"Hi, my name is Sam and I'm a really suspicious bastard." - Vimes isn't the only one who could introduce himself that way at Coppers Anonymous.
I always say that the difference between an AU and In Name Only is whether a reader could tell the characters from someone else in a different fandom with the same first name. Pure crack to put my money where my mouth is. See if you can spot all seven.
"There's something queer goin' on and no mistake, if you don't mind me saying so," the shortest figure said, eyes straying back to the corners of the room.
There was a paper sign hanging from the ceiling, and its movement could be down to a draft, but it was inconsistent enough that Vimes was put more in mind of Carrot or Angua not quite deliberately knocking into something to make some rustle and put people at ease rather than sneak up on them. The issue was that there wasn't anyone there to be put at ease about.
The third man - young, chubby, and much taller than the nonhuman - was equally open with his distress, but quicker to back up the dwarf(? - Vimes didn't know any full grown clean-shaven dwarfs besides Carrot, but he didn't keep up with the latest fashions) when someone was quick to take point on this bizarre investigation. "It's certainly not where I expected to be today. Warm, at least," he offered with a weak laugh. "I'm Sam, by the way. Samwell Tarley, of the Night's Watch," he introduced himself, uncertainly gesturing to his black fur and leathers before sketching a hasty bow.
The dwarf (with pointy ears?) was quick to return it, deeper than Tarley, as if any copper would rank higher than him. Tarley wasn't part of the same Night Watch Vimes had come up from, but theirs didn't look much better equipped. "Samwise Gamgee, at your service and your family's."
Vimes just nodded, arms crossed in front of his chest, since they were doing courtly manners today, apparently. He wanted a cigar. "Vimes. Ankh Morpork Watch. How'd you get here?"
"I was just going about my business, walked in from the garden - I'm no Shirrif, myself, had enough adventuring before we got back to find Big Folk had taken over the Shire; no offense, sirs, I don't even rightly know where we've gotten to, but it's been wild enough at home even with the borders closed and - what was that?"
The bunting moved again, and the flow of unnecessary words stopped as Vimes saw the world ripple out of the corner of his eye. It was only for a second, but the little fellow was already on alert, reaching for a trowel long enough to count as a sword at his height, and the kid's instincts weren't too far behind, covering Gamgee's flank with just good enough posture to make Vimes think that he'd learned actual fighting under the guise of fancy useless fencing lessons and their implicit excuse for bullying. Good. If they did have something to fight here, Vimes could trust them both not to get too heroic.
"Can't be Gollum," Gamgee muttered, as if trying to convince himself. "He fell in, Ring and all. Saw him do it. Show yourself, if you're no coward!"
To Vimes's surprise, (and likely the other Sams' as well) that actually worked. Like a heat haze burning out in the sun, a figure in the darkest, shiniest, most full-body-covering armor Vimes had seen shimmered out of nowhere. The green-accented black wasn't any metal Vimes was familiar with, but the plates were as meticulously polished as Carrot or any of the Watch's drill sergeants might desire. The phantom kept hands to its sides, confidence and discipline radiating from the posture even with wary hands on sheathed blades standing against it.
The long, unfamiliar projectile stock on the newcomer's back could have something to do with it, even if Vimes had no idea how one was supposed to see through that face plate with no holes or glass, or fire a crossbow without the width of the bow. It reminded him uncomfortably of the broken gonne. Vimes didn't trust much more complicated weaponry than a good Burleigh and Stronginthearm, but the strange handle over the stranger's shoulder was as sleek and alien as the armor to him.
"Not looking for a fight," a deep voice intoned. "Quicker to make it home alone." And with that, the figure disappeared as completely as he came.
"You're not wearing anything cursed by a Maia and plannin' on conquering the world, are you?" Gamgee asked the thin air, because that was a reasonable follow-up question today.
He was only met with a disembodied hoarse chuckle. Vimes worried that the ersatz dwarf was thinking too small.
"I don't want a fight, either. No call to hurt someone who could be a friend." Gamgee slowly and theatrically took his hand off his improvised pommel, and Tarley followed suit. "Just have to make sure there's no poison you can't take care of on your own."
"There is. Not your problem." Vimes was used to imps and the Watch-house speaking tubes, but it still disconcerted him to hear the voice coming from thin air. If he really squinted, he might see a distortion in the light, but it took all his concentration.
Maybe that's why he didn't immediately recognize his own protest above Gamgee and Tarley offering their own help. "Of course it's our problem. Every time somebody gets their life put at risk in my city, it turns into the Watch's godsdamn problem, so we'd better fix this while you're still occasionally visible." Vimes stretched forth a hand, trying to capture that ripple and missed entirety.
"Not a symptom." Wasn't exactly preventing whatever was wrong, as fast as he fled from anyone that offered a hand. Sure, those hands had been flailing, but no invisible man, no invisible man search protocol. The Watch had drills for the most efficient flailing, in case of magical or alchemical accidents. "I'm the risk to life."
"Way I knew that turned people invisible, it weighed something awful on their minds, but it didn't make them bad people at heart. Even the one I thought was gonna end us all was the one to finish the quest in the end. It'd driven him mad, but Mister Frodo drew some good left out of him." Gamgee seemed like he'd been trying to convince himself of this, but it was an old argument that he'd picked a side on, all doubts firmly pushed down beneath the earth.
"Can't tame a rabid dog."
"I've seen rabid animals," Tarley answered the thin air. "They don't run from people trying to help them."
There was still no verbal response, but something small and square hit the ground in a flash, and the ripple in the air disappeared completely.
"How in the seven hells did he do that?" Tarley asked, like they knew.
Vimes attempted to reassure the boy anyway. "The wizards have spells that might. Don't see 'em actually do much magic, but not my department. Easier to investigate when they stick to not breaking reality, anyway." Angua had a trusted source on the street that owed much to wizardly waste products, but that one was probably smart enough to make himself understood by a werewolf even without magical side effects.
"I definitely need to study that part of the library," Tarley sighed, "if I can get back there."
Well… wizards, libraries… Gaspode and Nobby weren't the only furry associates of the Watch. The room did have a wall to wall floor to ceiling shelf packed tight enough that the invisible figure rustled no pages in passing. "I think I have an idea."
Falcon entered with a bowl of chips to find the room utterly deserted, not even a heat signature in sight. "Strange? Where'd everybody go?"
"For a first group therapy session, I think it went well," the doctor replied from the portal behind him. "No injuries, at least."
The Sams Anonymous banner fluttered as the portal shut again. Maybe next time they could get around the demon trap and the falling ladder.