Good Together (Discworld, Carrot/Angua)
Title: Good Together
Author: Cadence
Fandom: Discworld
Pairing: Carrott/Angua
Rating: PG
Prompt: Carrot/Angua - "Could we forget about the dwarf bread for a minute?"
A/N: Two days late. >_< Apologies!
Angua had to keep reminding herself that she wasn't on duty.
The immediate differences were small. She was with Carrot, walking in step as they proceeded around the city. He had already stopped once to sternly warn off potential crimes in progress, and much more than that had jumped and looked guilty when they saw him coming. You never really stopped being a watchman, of course. Commander Vimes was right about that.
She was in street clothes, though. She had patted herself a few times already to remind herself of that. That meant she wasn't on duty. And there weren't actually any actively pressing cases at the moment, which means she wasn't likely to need to be back on duty suddenly.
Also, Carrot was talking cheerfully and distractedly about something other than Watch business, which rarely happened when they were actually patrolling. Carrot took focus on duty very seriously. Unfortunately...
"And so I get to oversee the oven re-sculpting this afternoon!" He was saying cheerfully, oblivious to the way her mind was wandering.
It wasn't really that he didn't listen to her opinions. He was excellent about that, listening attentively to her whenever she spoke up. It was almost irritating.
"It should be very exciting. The last loaf comes out soon, and then they just have to let it cool first."
It was that, because he was so calm about everything, you couldn't really say some things to him without feeling horrible about it. With most people, they were wrong occasionally, you had fights, you could yell at each other and say nasty things and it would all be okay.
"Did you know there's a very deep mystique around the first and last loaves out of an oven? Lots of people prefer one or the other. New ovens don't have all the buildup from years of baking, you see, so they turn out very differently," Carrot continued happily.
With Carrot, there was just no way to turn to him and say, "I think your hobby is as boring as rocks, which, by the way, also bore me out of my mind."
"But if it goes too far the bread starts coming out uneven, so you have to clean out the inside of the oven every few decades. It's so exciting that it's happening now! There's even an expert oven-chiseler in town!"
"Great." Angua said with something less than enthusiasm. Carrot continued grinning, oblivious. Eventually she steeled herself and tried, "Hey, could we forget about the dwarf bread for a minute?"
Carrot's brow furrowed. "Why?" He looked around worriedly, as if seeking out some impending disaster that could possibly overshadow the importance of chiseling out old bread residue.
"It's just-" Angua changed her mind halfway into the thought. "I was wondering if we could go out tonight."
Carrot relaxed but still looked confused. "But we're out now."
"No, I mean... to a bar or something. I don't know. We hardly ever do anything." Other than patrol, of course, and somehow Angua still had the nagging conception that that wasn't enough for a relationship.
"We go to The Bucket all the time," Carrot said slowly, as if Angua was acting very strangely. "But if you want-"
There were always watchmen in The Bucket. It was hardly the place for... whatever it was that she wanted. Though, now that Angua considered it, there weren't really taverns other than The Bucket or Biers that particularly appealed. Still, if Carrot picked, it would be a dwarf bar-
"I'll think of a new place." Angua said firmly. "Can we?"
"Of course," said Carrot.
Feeling vaguely appeased, Angua smiled. "Good." They continued along the street in silence for a while.
"I should head over to the museum," Carrot said eventually, pulling to a stop. "The loaf will be done soon. Do you want to come?"
"Er," said Angua. "No, thank you." Carrot's face fell. "Not that it doesn't sound thrilling," she found herself saying. She couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but she knew Carrot wouldn't catch it anyway. "But I, um, have some important errands to run."
"That's too bad," Carrot responded. He looked disappointed, but didn't inquire into Angua's errands, to her annoyance. "I'll see you later, then. Meet you at Mrs. Cake's tonight?"
Angua nodded, and Carrot jogged away.
Now she just had to decide what they were doing tonight. That was almost like running errands.
***
It was pitch dark when she walked outside to meet Carrot. It was close to the new moon, which was nice, but since the street lamps outside the house were perpetually doused (much better for those who needed to enter a bit covertly, which included Angua a few days a month) it meant it was terribly hard to see. Not a problem for her, of course, but...
"Angua?" Carrot turned in the darkness at the sound of the door, ending up staring intently several feet to her right.
"I'm here." She touched his arm and guided him away from the pool of darkness.
"You know, this place is terribly unsafe to have the lights out like this," Carrot said earnestly. "It encourages crime."
Angua stared at him, but it was probably still too dim for him to really make out her expression.
"I think I'll be fine."
"If you say so." Carrot dropped the subject cheerfully. "So where are we going?"
"There's a show in a bar near here," said Angua. "Some new kind of music called 'alchemica.' It's supposed to be pretty good," she said dubiously. "They make music through alchemy and clockwork and things."
"Sounds dangerous." said Carrot. "Are you quite sure that's allowed by the building codes?"
I don't actually care right now, Angua thought. She was saved from having to lie, though, by their arrival at their destination. The troll splatter at the door looked them over.
"Two drink minimum, don't make trouble," he said eventually.
"Fine," said Angua, and pulled Carrot inside. The room was only partially filled, and the band on stage seemed to be less than enthusiastic. The sounds that filled the room were of whistling steam, grinding gears and twanging rubber. She supposed it was almost like music. It was rhythmic, anyway. At least when the troll on the steam pipe managed to lift his fingers at the right times.
They approached the bar and got attention immediately. "Captain Carrot! Nice to see you here! What'll you have?"
"Milk would be great, thanks, Tomas."
"Ah. I'm sorry, we don't actually-"
"He'll just have water." Angua interrupted. "And beer for me, thanks."
The bartender-Tomas, apparently-blinked. "But there is the minimum-no, never mind, it's fine." Carrot, predictably, looked stricken. Angua sighed.
"I'll drink his drinks for him. But you better make it good beer, in that case." Tomas looked gratified and moved away. By the time that he returned with her stein she was already developing a headache, and she massaged her temples before downing half of her drink in one go.
Carrot sipped his water. "It's very interesting," he said, and Angua realized he'd actually being paying attention to the band and waiting for their song to break. "It makes you wonder-what is a musical instrument, really?"
Angua drank the rest of her beer.
Then there was a scream-a real I'm-in-trouble scream-from somewhere outside, and both she and Carrot snapped to focus. An exchanged glance and he was headed back out past the splatter. Angua vaulted the bar and headed for the back door.
She reached outside, turned, scented-ah, probably the attacker had run south. Carrot would be chasing him, which meant a few turns and she'd be there to cut him off.
She grinned and let the sense of warm satisfaction through, for a moment. She and Carrot were good together.
Author: Cadence
Fandom: Discworld
Pairing: Carrott/Angua
Rating: PG
Prompt: Carrot/Angua - "Could we forget about the dwarf bread for a minute?"
A/N: Two days late. >_< Apologies!
Angua had to keep reminding herself that she wasn't on duty.
The immediate differences were small. She was with Carrot, walking in step as they proceeded around the city. He had already stopped once to sternly warn off potential crimes in progress, and much more than that had jumped and looked guilty when they saw him coming. You never really stopped being a watchman, of course. Commander Vimes was right about that.
She was in street clothes, though. She had patted herself a few times already to remind herself of that. That meant she wasn't on duty. And there weren't actually any actively pressing cases at the moment, which means she wasn't likely to need to be back on duty suddenly.
Also, Carrot was talking cheerfully and distractedly about something other than Watch business, which rarely happened when they were actually patrolling. Carrot took focus on duty very seriously. Unfortunately...
"And so I get to oversee the oven re-sculpting this afternoon!" He was saying cheerfully, oblivious to the way her mind was wandering.
It wasn't really that he didn't listen to her opinions. He was excellent about that, listening attentively to her whenever she spoke up. It was almost irritating.
"It should be very exciting. The last loaf comes out soon, and then they just have to let it cool first."
It was that, because he was so calm about everything, you couldn't really say some things to him without feeling horrible about it. With most people, they were wrong occasionally, you had fights, you could yell at each other and say nasty things and it would all be okay.
"Did you know there's a very deep mystique around the first and last loaves out of an oven? Lots of people prefer one or the other. New ovens don't have all the buildup from years of baking, you see, so they turn out very differently," Carrot continued happily.
With Carrot, there was just no way to turn to him and say, "I think your hobby is as boring as rocks, which, by the way, also bore me out of my mind."
"But if it goes too far the bread starts coming out uneven, so you have to clean out the inside of the oven every few decades. It's so exciting that it's happening now! There's even an expert oven-chiseler in town!"
"Great." Angua said with something less than enthusiasm. Carrot continued grinning, oblivious. Eventually she steeled herself and tried, "Hey, could we forget about the dwarf bread for a minute?"
Carrot's brow furrowed. "Why?" He looked around worriedly, as if seeking out some impending disaster that could possibly overshadow the importance of chiseling out old bread residue.
"It's just-" Angua changed her mind halfway into the thought. "I was wondering if we could go out tonight."
Carrot relaxed but still looked confused. "But we're out now."
"No, I mean... to a bar or something. I don't know. We hardly ever do anything." Other than patrol, of course, and somehow Angua still had the nagging conception that that wasn't enough for a relationship.
"We go to The Bucket all the time," Carrot said slowly, as if Angua was acting very strangely. "But if you want-"
There were always watchmen in The Bucket. It was hardly the place for... whatever it was that she wanted. Though, now that Angua considered it, there weren't really taverns other than The Bucket or Biers that particularly appealed. Still, if Carrot picked, it would be a dwarf bar-
"I'll think of a new place." Angua said firmly. "Can we?"
"Of course," said Carrot.
Feeling vaguely appeased, Angua smiled. "Good." They continued along the street in silence for a while.
"I should head over to the museum," Carrot said eventually, pulling to a stop. "The loaf will be done soon. Do you want to come?"
"Er," said Angua. "No, thank you." Carrot's face fell. "Not that it doesn't sound thrilling," she found herself saying. She couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but she knew Carrot wouldn't catch it anyway. "But I, um, have some important errands to run."
"That's too bad," Carrot responded. He looked disappointed, but didn't inquire into Angua's errands, to her annoyance. "I'll see you later, then. Meet you at Mrs. Cake's tonight?"
Angua nodded, and Carrot jogged away.
Now she just had to decide what they were doing tonight. That was almost like running errands.
***
It was pitch dark when she walked outside to meet Carrot. It was close to the new moon, which was nice, but since the street lamps outside the house were perpetually doused (much better for those who needed to enter a bit covertly, which included Angua a few days a month) it meant it was terribly hard to see. Not a problem for her, of course, but...
"Angua?" Carrot turned in the darkness at the sound of the door, ending up staring intently several feet to her right.
"I'm here." She touched his arm and guided him away from the pool of darkness.
"You know, this place is terribly unsafe to have the lights out like this," Carrot said earnestly. "It encourages crime."
Angua stared at him, but it was probably still too dim for him to really make out her expression.
"I think I'll be fine."
"If you say so." Carrot dropped the subject cheerfully. "So where are we going?"
"There's a show in a bar near here," said Angua. "Some new kind of music called 'alchemica.' It's supposed to be pretty good," she said dubiously. "They make music through alchemy and clockwork and things."
"Sounds dangerous." said Carrot. "Are you quite sure that's allowed by the building codes?"
I don't actually care right now, Angua thought. She was saved from having to lie, though, by their arrival at their destination. The troll splatter at the door looked them over.
"Two drink minimum, don't make trouble," he said eventually.
"Fine," said Angua, and pulled Carrot inside. The room was only partially filled, and the band on stage seemed to be less than enthusiastic. The sounds that filled the room were of whistling steam, grinding gears and twanging rubber. She supposed it was almost like music. It was rhythmic, anyway. At least when the troll on the steam pipe managed to lift his fingers at the right times.
They approached the bar and got attention immediately. "Captain Carrot! Nice to see you here! What'll you have?"
"Milk would be great, thanks, Tomas."
"Ah. I'm sorry, we don't actually-"
"He'll just have water." Angua interrupted. "And beer for me, thanks."
The bartender-Tomas, apparently-blinked. "But there is the minimum-no, never mind, it's fine." Carrot, predictably, looked stricken. Angua sighed.
"I'll drink his drinks for him. But you better make it good beer, in that case." Tomas looked gratified and moved away. By the time that he returned with her stein she was already developing a headache, and she massaged her temples before downing half of her drink in one go.
Carrot sipped his water. "It's very interesting," he said, and Angua realized he'd actually being paying attention to the band and waiting for their song to break. "It makes you wonder-what is a musical instrument, really?"
Angua drank the rest of her beer.
Then there was a scream-a real I'm-in-trouble scream-from somewhere outside, and both she and Carrot snapped to focus. An exchanged glance and he was headed back out past the splatter. Angua vaulted the bar and headed for the back door.
She reached outside, turned, scented-ah, probably the attacker had run south. Carrot would be chasing him, which meant a few turns and she'd be there to cut him off.
She grinned and let the sense of warm satisfaction through, for a moment. She and Carrot were good together.