What Polly Did Next: Winter (IV)
Summary: If Monstrous Regiment could be filed under “What Polly Did” this would fall under the remit of “What Polly Did Next” covering as it does the joys, trials and tribulations of our eponymous heroine, picking up sometime in the year following the final paragraph of MR. Polly/Mal
Disclaimer: Polly and Mal belong to Sir Terry Pratchett. Author makes no claims of ownership in any way. No profit is being made from this work.
Warnings: This chapter contains descriptions of a relationship between two women (yeah, I know, FINALLY). If that's not your thing please don't click below.
Previous Chapters: Summer, Autumn 1/3, Autumn 2/3, Autumn 3/3
As it was too long for one post (Still LJ? STILL?) this would be part four.
~X~
Hardly waiting for permission, Mal had already started to move and Polly had to hurry to keep up. Following as close as she could she hung on as the vampire pushed through the door and out into the cool and quiet of the outer hall. But despite the quiet without compared to the bustle within, the vestibule was full of couples, every alcove occupied and every small corner brimming with intent youths attempting to get some privacy. Mal kept going, sweeping across the tiled expanse to drag open one of the large doors to the courtyard. She halted on the threshold as the freezing air swept in.
“Bugger me!” Polly shivered violently. Folding her arms over her chest she swayed a little as the crisp air did something unpleasant to her ability to focus. She really shouldn't have had that last glance of punch.
Mal slammed the door shut again and swore under her breath as she turned back to the cluttered vestibule. It hadn't got any better since they last examined it.
“I'll get my coat.” Despite the dawning realisation that she was a little drunk, Polly realised this was one of the times that the vampire needed her quiet support and a definite lack of questions.
Mal kept step with her on that long silent walk along the quiet corridors to the supply office. It was a shame to cover up those long ago efforts in the field of high couture but Polly knew how cold the nights could be out here on the edge of the world and so didn't jibe in the face of scarf, hat and gloves. While she made sure she had gathered all the vital equipment Mal merely grabbed her own greatcoat from behind the door and slipped into it. But, though ready in seconds, the corporal waited patiently to help Polly with the more fiddly buttons.
Dragging open the main door for the second time the cold still struck a heavy blow but this time Polly just ducked her head and kept going. The quad was deserted, only a minimal number of guards were posted and the snow that had drifted back over the large flagstones during the dance was unmarked by any footprints. Mal who so far had seemed to know exactly where she was going suddenly stopped, uncertain. Left to her own devices the Polly craned her neck to pick out the guards on the outer walls. She let her head drop back and stunned by the number of stars visible she pointed vaguely upward as with only the slightest slur in her voice she murmured “pretty...”
Mal glanced over, saw what she was doing and followed the pointed finger up into the infinite sky. The view appeared to inspire her and she reached up to grab Polly's wavering hand, dragging her off in the direction of the central tower. As she followed willingly across the courtyard Polly looked up at their destination and noted that the usual sparks of light from the guards lanterns were missing.
“They're only on the outer walls tonight.” Mal had seen where she was looking and answered the unspoken question. “We'll have it to ourselves.”
She paused at the base of the tower, her hand on the door as though asking Polly permission to take this step. But it was only a tower and the stairs in this one were wide enough for the sergeant not to worry about navigating even in her slightly inebriated condition. Besides she wasn't drunk, just a little tipsy, Goldhawk's punch merely smoothing the edges of life and feeding the little voice inside that encouraged her to keep going and see where this ended up.
They climbed in silence, Polly following Mal's sure-footed ascent, and just when the sergeant was starting to get a little bit bored with stairs that went round and round but never seemed to get anywhere they emerged through the small door onto the lower roof. Up here the stars were almost close enough to touch and Polly, un-noticed behind Mal's back, reached out as though to grab at the bright sparks dangling overhead.
Having got Polly up here Mal seemed to have no plan for what to do next. As the sergeant wandered from side to side, murmuring quietly to herself at what she could see below Mal was satisfied to merely watch her perambulations while rolling the inevitable cigarette. Turning round Polly caught that gaze on her and smiled encouragingly, settling with her back against the low wall that prevented the unsteady from stumbling into the courtyard below. Whether it was the smile, or mere curiosity she couldn't say but the corporal pushed herself away from where she'd been leaning beside the door and wandered over the roof to take a place at her side. She lit the cigarette. They stood in silence, watching the guards on the Rimwards wall share a joke before moving off on their designated patrol routes.
The minute hand on the clock above the Great Hall swung ponderously up to the vertical and the noise from the dance rose to a new peak as the chimes rang out into the crisp air. It was midnight. Polly nudged the stiff shoulder next to hers.
“Happy Hogswatch, Mal.”
“Happy Hogswatch, Polly.”
Mal turned around and brushed away the snow on the parapet so she could lean more comfortably on her elbows, cigarette in hand. Voices drifted up from below, and turning round also and looking down Polly could see recognisable figures stumbling out into the snow, backlit from the bright hall. But her gaze was drawn out and up, to the mountains promising great things for the future. Buoyed up on a gentle fuzz of alcohol Polly found herself humming under her breath but recognising the tune she stopped short, the blush rising to her cheeks despite the cold air. Mal moved uncomfortably, elbows shifting on the wall. Suddenly it seemed she had come to a decision and she stood up bracing herself with locked arms on the parapet. She abruptly stubbed out the cigarette in the snow and turning to Polly asked, as though determined to get the words out before she changed her mind.
“Would you dance with me?”
It wasn’t the question Polly had anticipated, expecting some request perhaps to stop humming that infernal song. She stood open mouthed. Mal, gentleman to the last, reiterated the question with a greater degree of politeness.
“Would you do me the great honour of allowing me the pleasure of this dance?”
Polly smiled, as Mal unconsciously echoed Goldhawk's approach. Breeding did tell after-all. Even when standing in ankle deep snow. Yet even as she enjoyed the moment her corporal indicated with the most delicate bow that the aforementioned dancing partner was still waiting. Mal was the epitome of calm but for some reason the hand she held out trembled in the clear air. It was the uncertainty that caught Polly’s heart. Vampires weren’t meant to be unsure. They were cold and supercilious to the core, not vulnerable or hesitant, standing there hopeful but desperately afraid of rejection.
Polly thought about uncertainty, remembering a stolen glimpse of lonely eyes, a sheepish vampire hands in pockets hovering outside her half opened door waiting for her to finish her paperwork. A wrinkled nose produced when deep in thought, hair usually so pristine mussed in frustration and a mischievous grin that could break out at a minutes notice over a serious face. About disappointment shielded behind dry wit, an ever present coffee addiction, and a little smile without agenda that snuck out sometimes for Polly and Polly alone. Freely, without any anticipation of second thoughts, she placed her life in that outstretched hand.
Disappointingly the actual detail of the dance was uncomfortable and awkward. Bulked up in big coats they could only stumble like around in clumsy circles like great bears and Polly's heart ached desperately, knowing this couldn’t have been what Mal had wanted. But when the vampire halted suddenly causing Polly to bump into her she looked up into sparkling dark eyes that held just a hint of mischief. Mal, it appeared, had had an idea. The reassuring smile Polly remembered all too well from previous “great ideas” broke out over that mobile face as Mal uttered the fateful lines.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.” There had never been any resisting that.
Mal let go of her hands for a moment to shrug out of her greatcoat and Polly wondered again why the vampire never wore gloves or any of the other accoutrements necessary for warmth in this climate. But her train of thought was brought shuddering to a halt as Mal began to remove the glove from her left hand. It was 10 below up here on the tower and Polly naturally pulled back, wondering what trick this was. But Mal merely held on as the gloved hand jerked in hers and repeated the earlier challenge.
“Do you trust me?”
And of course she did. It was only a glove; her fingers wouldn’t fall off in the next five minutes, surely.
Bare hand in bare hand they stood there under the stars. Polly, her breath streaming out in visible evidence of the temperature stretched her fingers in the firm cool grasp, marvelling at the warmth flowing through them and up into her arm.
Mal removed the other glove, carefully maintaining at all times a connection of skin to skin. Reaching up to lift off that old contentious hat, the corporal must have forgotten she still had Polly’s hand captured safely in one hand as she trailed the back of the other down a cold cheek, her fingers sliding gently over the contours of her face. A light touch drifted up to her forehead and then back around her ear, tucking away the merest strand of hair.
“You should wear your hair down more often, it suits you.” Mal smiled and traced the line of her eyebrow before finally allowing her hand to drop away.
It must be to keep the magic working, reasoned Polly, finding a moment to think as Mal stood before her, both hands captured, a considering look on her face.
It was the scarf, Polly realised suddenly. It was going to need two hands and was thus creating a mild hiccup in the carefully thought out plan of action. Mal eventually solved the problem by releasing Polly's hands for a brief second to loosen the coils, before lifting it gently over her head with a spare hand.
After that, not even the difficult buttons on Polly’s overcoat could put up much resistance. Left handed (her other hand seemingly now permanently connected to Polly’s) Mal released them slowly, one by one, Polly’s breath catching as the last one refused to cooperate for a moment before falling to those dexterous fingers. She turned slowly, allowing the coat to be lifted away and then found herself, having reached the terminus of her slow spin, captured once again in those slim hands. Mal met her smile with a soft one of her own and whispering: “shall we?” led her once again into the simple steps.
It was easier this time. Without the coats between them Polly found she fit perfectly into her partner’s graceful hold and the music drifted up from below to guide their steps while the pinpricks of stars overhead twinkled brighter than the most expensive chandeliers. It was a moment out of time. Nothing existed but the cool hand in Polly's and the guiding pressure in the small of her back. They moved together, watched over only by the guarding mountains and Polly would never be able to say when exactly Mal brought her that last few inches closer, folding their clasped hands under her chin.
This was the only place in the world Polly wanted to be, pressed up against this young woman, nowhere not touching, as they swayed together under the stars. Her own hand slid without conscious decision to rest in the small of Mal’s back as she lowered her head onto a firm shoulder and inhaling the mingled scents of coffee and tobacco she wished she could capture the moment for ever. It was in this state of mind that she felt rather than saw Mal’s movement and instinctively lifted her head so that it was her lips that received the kiss rather than Mal’s intended target.
It was the merest smidgeon of contact, just a light brush of lips and as the connection broke Polly could feel the whipcord tension in the body pressed against hers. While her thoughts might be spinning in an attempt to clarify what exactly had just happened Mal seemed well in control of the situation and cautiously holding herself in check. A large part of Polly's mind screamed at her to ignore this, to concentrate instead on how good that had felt and what exactly one needed to do to induce it to happen again.
The solution was provided for her as Mal bent her head again and having already had one run at the experience Polly slipped urgent fingers up over those tense shoulders to twine them through those tempting strands of short dark hair as she had long wanted to do. Responding to this affront on her dignity with a distressed sound, the vampire's hands which were had been hovering in civilised manner at Polly's waist suddenly tightened, pulling the sergeant closer with unconscious need. There were parts of Mal colliding with parts of Polly in all sorts of interesting ways and she was afraid she may have moaned.
Mal froze.
Unafraid Polly waited, held close in those encircling arms. She was at the top of an exposed tower on a freezing hogswatch night but her forehead was resting quietly against Mal's neck and she couldn't think of anywhere else she'd rather be.
“Polly.” As Mal gently called her name, the soft tones couldn't help but remind Polly of the time she'd first heard them, rousing her from sleep in the pre-dawn light of that very first autumn patrol.
She had never told Mal that she'd heard her, or that she'd felt the gentle touch of chill fingers against her cheek. But the vague memory of that tender voice reaching down into her dreams had persisted despite all Polly's sensible intentions, cropping up every now and then to invade the drowsy drifting moments as she hung on the edge of sleep cocooned in enfolding blankets. At these times, when her ability to resist temptation was lowered by encroaching slumber, Polly would have to admit that occasionally she did allow her replaying of the situation to continue beyond the bounds of historical accuracy.
That whole patrol had been something out of the ordinary, the balmy autumn days providing a series of perfect moments one after another and Polly felt her lips curl into a smile against a protruding collarbone at the memory.
“Polly.” The call was repeated a little louder but again went ignored, Polly currently finding Mal's neck much more fascinating, clumsily exploring the smooth skin that lay cool under her warm lips.
True enough there were other areas of potential interest, but Polly wasn't fussy, especially when flying high on one too many glasses of punch. The neck was what she was offered so the neck was what she would take. Besides, if Mal was going to invade Polly's office and curl up on her hearth, head tilted to one side as she serenaded her precious gramophone then she couldn't blame Polly for taking the opportunity to investigate the area in question when such occasion arose. Her explorations passed unwittingly over a pulse point and she felt the explosion of heat as the vampire flushed and jerked under her touch.
“Polly.” Mal allowed a warning tone to slip into her voice.
Polly obediently stopped exploring and let herself just lean against that familiar chest. Mal was solidity to rest against in a whirling world, the encircling arms keeping her safe. The army had turned out all-right in the end but sometimes it was heaven to stop having to be everything Borogravia wanted from her, to step aside from being Sergeant Perks for a minute and just be. She blinked and lifted her head to see Mal's eyes darker than usual against the star pricked sky. It was funny, that face was so familiar, the planes and shadows as well known to her as the sword calluses on her own hands. It seemed idiotic that Polly hadn't been able to read the incredible truth hidden there until tonight.
It was while she was processing this that she saw the view. The tower lay all of ten feet below them, darkly silhouetted against the lights that were streaming out from the Great Hall in wide bars across the drifting snow.
Adrenaline is a great introducer of reality and the real world swung back into prominence as Polly grabbed on to Mal for an entirely different reason, her fear driving the need not to be separated from the tense body under her hands.
“If you drop me!”
But Mal didn’t produce the laugh Polly had expected, the vampire silent as she concentrated on guiding them down. Landing them both safely she took an immediate step back. Polly reached for her, smiling, but a second retreating step penetrated the fuzz of punch surrounding her brain and she stopped in confusion. The after effects of the drink were fuddling her thoughts and the wind struck cold now that Mal was no longer maintaining the contact between them. She shivered and reached out for that slim hand again, needing to reassure her companion that things were ok.
“Leave it Pol.”
Mal turned away, searching out and collecting up the various warm winter woollies they had discarded so heedlessly. Holding out the coat for Polly to put on she continued to refrain from smiling, silent still as she handed over the other accoutrements whilst managing to maintain a generous distance between them.
“Why?” The small voice was trying so hard not to show hurt and Mal paused, unable to meet Polly's eyes.
There was only the hat left to put on and as Mal stepped in and slipped the hat over blond curls she lightly kissed the forehead between her hands.
“You’re drunk. A gentleman never takes advantage of a lady not in full control of her actions. I couldn’t.”
Polly attempted to protest but Mal wasn’t paying attention, her eyes lifted to the guarding mountains that encircled them. Responding to Polly's hand on her sleeve she dragged her gaze back from the lofty peaks but still seemed unable to meet the sergeant's eyes. Staring at her feet instead she appeared to struggle to find the words she needed.
Polly waited and eventually Mal sighed and lifted her eyes. Forgiving blue met apologetic black and below them the clock struck the quarter. Mal waited for the mocking echoes to fade before she at last spoke.
“I should have said something before Pol, I'm sorry. But I thought I wouldn't have to, I thought we could avoid this whole embarrassing scenario. I swear to you, I never meant it to come to this.”
She straightened the links of Polly's scarf, tucking the ends in carefully to make sure not a single millimetre of skin was exposed to the cold. Nervous fingers flicked a piece of lint from Polly's shoulder before reaching down and capturing a willing hand in order to ensure there was no gap between cuff and woollen glove. It was displacement activity of the most obvious order, but it seemed to give Mal the courage to continue haltingly.
“You never knew, but I wanted you back then, back at the beginning. You were beautiful and smart and cheeky and young and so... so tempting and I know it sounds stupid but I was lost from the first moment I saw you. Well, maybe the second. But you weren't interested, you weren't that kind of girl and that was fair enough - I've never pushed.”
Polly opened her mouth to deny something, but Mal's up-flung hand stopped her.
“But I came to see there was more to Polly Perks than that cheeky over-cocky, over-clever brat with no idea of which fights weren't worth picking. You were confusing and real and not always right but able to work out a way through anyway and I decided that if you wouldn't have me, so be it, I’d put my hand up to it and Maladict would be the best damn friend a girl ever had.” She smiled weakly. “It was a steep learning curve at times, but I stuck to it.” Her voice dropped and became more introspective. “And as I got to know that Polly Perks I realised I'd do anything to keep her friendship. Anything.”
Mal paused and took a deliberate step back, freeing her hand from Polly's and watching it drop away with quiet sadness, unmasked now and vulnerable in her openness. She took a steadying breath, drawing back up her defences.
“So now, as a friend, I'm advising you not to do this. Let it go, chalk it up to a stupid misunderstanding between two people too drunk to know better and allow it to fade away. We’re called abominations for a reason”. She moved away. “You’d best go down and get warm.”
“Mal.” The figure paused, the heavy door latch under her hand. “Please, don't go.”
“I’m sorry.” She didn't turn round. “Happy Hogswatch Polly”
Left alone on the tower Polly swore. Not for long (she still didn’t know that many words) but long enough to build up enough rage to kick the parapet. It hurt, reminding her of Mal's sardonic comments on the quality (or lack of it) of her boots. She paced up and down the small square of roof for a short while; consigning Mal to a number of unpleasant situations mainly involving sharpened wooden implements (a ladle entertained her for a good few minutes). But eventually the cold began to bite and as the frustration wore off a low sort of depression crept in to replace the burning heat of her rage. It wasn't everyday a vampire turned down your advances and she was definitely owed a bit of moping. However, as she slumped miserably against the parapet where it had all started she began to think. Really think.
It wasn’t hard to find holes in Mal’s idiotic conclusions. Polly remembered a conversation quietly shared in the middle of the night that time they'd had their first real argument (about thrall of all things). Mal, for all her quick brain, did have this birdbrained tendency to jump to the wrong conclusions from time to time. This was obviously one of those occasions when she needed a more sensible person to make the decisions for her. Even if those decisions involved tying the blessed imbecile to a chair and batting her around the head with a length of iron bar until she came to her senses.
Polly dwelt on that image for a long and exceedingly satisfying moment.
Really, when you got down to it, the whole thing was very simple. You couldn't not do something you'd already done, no matter how much somebody advised you it wasn't a good idea. Mal could talk until the cows came home about making the right decision, but there was no decision here to make. Polly had already decided.
As she looked out over the peaceful town a song rose to her lips and she smiled.
“I couldn't say what made it so exciting...
Why all at once my heart took flight...
I only know when she
Began to dance with me
I could have...” [7]
However, Polly thought as she made her way carefully down the tower stairs, she might have to get a little sneaky in order to get Mal to agree.
[6] Let's Face The Music And Dance, Nat King Cole
[7] I could have danced all night, written by Frederick Loewe and lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner
~X~
“Corporal Maladict?” The vampire looked up to see Ganzfield hovering in the doorway. She put down her coffee grinder and at the signal of her attention her continued, “Sergeant Perks would like you to drop by the office at your earliest convenience.” He paused. “Is there an answer?”
“Tell her,” Mal paused, fighting the clammy sensation suddenly twisting in her belly. “Tell her I'll be over this afternoon.” It was apparently time. Mal wiped suddenly damp hands on her breeches and tried to focus on the usually calming process of brewing coffee.
Damn.
~X~
Ganzfield was making a neat and succinct note in one of the many files currently piled up on the Supply Clerk's desk so he didn't see Polly look up swiftly at the tentative knock at her door. As he didn't immediately allow the noise to interrupt his careful underlining of a salient point he also missed the smile that flashed over her face as she caught a glimpse of a vampire hovering in the corridor, shoulders hunched, hands thrust deep into her pockets. He did however notice that she dismissed him with some abruptness and almost didn't wait until he was out of the door before acknowledging her visitor.
“Come in!”
Ganzfield should have taken his armful of files and gone back to his desk to immerse himself in the minutiae of maintenance payments on kitchen utensils. But the vampire he had passed in the corridor had looked more on edge than usual and, as Ganzfield didn't want to have to train another new boss, he hovered nervously in his office doorway instead. Thus it was he saw the vampire slouch into the room and come to a halt in the centre of the rug. Corporal Maladict did not salute.
“At ease Corporal.” He heard Sergeant Perks push back her chair and she came into view as she rounded the desk to perch on the edge, legs extended, ankles crossed. Not until she was settled comfortably did she break the silence.
“I believe there is some unfinished business we need to address.”
Creeping forward down the corridor Ganzfield noticed that it looked like she was fighting some sort of facial twitch.
The pause so unkindly left languishing on the rug between the two occupants of the office lengthened until it became almost unbearable. Corporal Maladict seemed unable to lift his eyes from the pattern of the floor covering at his feet.
“I’ve not had a drink for three days.” Sergeant Perks hefted herself away from the desk, crossing her arms as she stepped forward, now within a foot of the vampire. “I think I would, by all methods of measurement, be considered sober.”
She glanced up and caught sight of Ganzfield as he stood ready to rush in and save her from insane undead vampire corporals. Frowning a detailed and threatening dismissal, she quickly crossed the floor and closed the door solidly in his face. With a sigh and a shake of the head, Ganzfield went back to his files.
~X~
Polly had returned to her desk and once again took up her perch.
“Now Corporal, I do believe there was a conversation that took place between us recently, where you alluded to a big decision I needed to mull over before making up my mind?”
“Yes Sergeant?”
Mal was employing the patented expressions for use when facing a superior officer with a grievance and Polly was forced to bite the inside of her cheek in order to keep her equanimity. She persevered.
“Yes, Corporal. Now, it is my well-considered opinion that three days is quite long enough to spend in consideration of something so important.” She leant back on her knuckles. “Don’t you agree?”
Mal took a minute to consider her options and settled on a shrug.
Polly was still talking. “It may interest you to know, Corporal, that I’ve come to my decision.”
Before her, Mal held her breath, praying for the strength to bear the words in dignified silence.
“You are an unmitigated ass!”
At that Mal did look up and blinking in confusion she was unprepared for what came next. Having dismounted from the desk Polly began to employ a series of painful pokes to the chest, each one a little more pointed to emphasise her statement.
“Corporal it is with great irritation that I have to inform you that you are a Dope! A Dufus! A veritable idiot of the first order!” Her sergeant drew breath.
At this point, Mal, employing that aggravating gift to dodge almost any attack took advantage of the second of warning to slip away and put a certain amount of distance (including the desk) between them. Reaching the sanctuary of the window she flicked a smidgeon of dust from her cuff.
~X~
Polly was still advancing. Mal, caught in a corner, began to seriously consider clambering out through the window and scaling the outside wall.
“Gods-dammit Mal!” Polly had rounded the desk and was coming on strong. “I’m a woman in the army for goodness sake! I don’t even exist! You think any of your stupid reasons (including the fact that I might wreck my career over this - yes, I saw it on the tip of your tongue) will prevent me, from making up my own mind about the most annoying, rascally and impertinent vampire I ever met?”
Mal swallowed. She had forgotten what she was going to say. In all truth she had quite possibly forgotten the sequence of muscle movements that led to the production of the spoken word by use of a voice box and larynx.
Polly waited.
There are times when a gentleman, or at least an abomination attempting to follow the rules of behaviour of the upper set, should stand up for themselves against the tyranny of an overbearing bully. There are times when any sane being knows that they should step up and do the right thing. But Mal, remembering that even the most exalted persons had allowed discretion to be the better part of valour decided that on this occasion, despite incredible provocation there was nothing she could do but humour the lunatic before her.
She shrugged.
Polly, boldly taking the gesture as a sign of submission, moved in with purpose and thus began the second attempt to completely corrupt Corporal Maladict against her will.
“Are you sure?” Mal found words at last, struggling to believe the reality of the woman now in her arms.
“No, you idiot.” Polly's attempt to soften her words with a smile were well received. “I'm not at all sure but I've wanted to for a long time and I've waited my three days and now I am going to kiss you.”
After a small period of exploration, during which Mal found her hands dropping from where they were defensively holding back Polly's upper arms to slide supportively around her waist, they settled out into a comfortable position with Sergeant Perks's head resting without fear on the shoulder of a dangerous vampire.
“Hmm.”
“Hmm?” Mal, tilting her head to bring that thoughtful face into view found Polly was touching her tongue to her bottom lip with a very odd expression on her face.
The vampire loosened her hold immediately. Damn. Why had she assumed that an attempt au natural would have been acceptable? Cursing herself for not using even the smallest drop of glamour, Mal racked her brain for a way, any way to ease out of the difficult moment. This was an unmitigated disaster. She would have to run away to sea and be a sailor. And she didn't even like boats...
“Teeth.” Polly explained.
“Oh.” Overcome with relief Mal managed to hold back the laugh but couldn't quite banish the dancing devils that drifted back into her eyes. “Were you not expecting them?”
“Shameful brat.” Polly blushed. “You may well laugh. It appears I hadn't quite thought through the mechanics of the thing.”
“Ah.” Mal settled herself more comfortably against the window embrasure ignoring the rough stone digging into her spine. A thought trickled into her mind that Polly could really look no better than at this very moment, peeping up through her lashes with the blush still lingering on her cheeks.
“Do they...?”
“Retract? Unfortunately, no.” Mal let the smile linger, canines unashamedly on show. It was amusing to watch as Polly attempted to apply logic to the problem. Of course, with her many years of experience Mal had any number of solutions to suggest but Sergeant Perks had got herself into this mess, let the sergeant get herself out.
“Hmm.” Polly lifted a hand to Mal's chin, turning the vampire's head this way and that as she examined her teeth for all as though she were a servant waiting in the market to be bought. Coming to a decision she nodded, a determined expression creeping over her face as she released her hold.
“Right” Polly ran a tongue over her lips and appeared to be preparing for another assault but Mal checked her momentarily, enquiring as to whether the sergeant was certain of her intent. Polly frowned.
“Of course I'm sure! Dammit Mal, apart from the minor teeth problem it's pretty damn well near exceeding expectations.”
“Oh.”
Blast Polly, the incorrigible darling had the gall to grin up at her and attempt a wink. Holding the advancing Polly back Mal took a brief second to thank her lucky stars for what she was about to willingly receive.
“In that case...” her own wicked grin peeked out. “It's much less of a problem if you rotate in from the left.”
Polly, still apparently pondering the mechanics of the matter, looked up in surprise and Mal, ever willing to make good use of an unexpected attack approved heartily of the position this left her in and took charge. It was a much better effort, Polly navigating around the obstructions as and when they cropped up and Mal doing her best to guide explorations away from potential problems. In fact the experience was only marred by the exceedingly unwelcome interruption of Ganzfield. His unexpected arrival caused the protagonists to spring apart and when he was far enough through the door to see anything he found Polly shuffling idly through the untidy heap of papers on her desk while Mal appeared to have found something of great interest outside the window.
“Oh.” He paused uncertainly. “Excuse me Ma'am. I didn't know you were still indisposed.”
Polly blushed and delightedly watching the sergeant's reflection in the window Mal admired the effect this had on her dimples, the little dips emphasised by the deepening colour. Pulling herself together, Polly managed to produce something that passed as an intelligent enquiry into Ganzfield's needs.
“It's just the coal order Ma'am. I'll come back later. Sorry to have disturbed you.”
“No, no Ganzfield.” Mal had never been able to resist temptation. “The life of the Border Blues must go on.” She smiled tenderly into the worried eyes that flashed up to hers and began to drift across the room in the direction of the door. “My conversation with the sergeant can just as easily be continued at some other time.” She forbore to wink, but Polly, worryingly easily able to read her mind blushed anyway. Again. Assuming correctly that the sergeant would be unable to find her voice in time Mal paused in the doorway and knowing she was out of sight behind Ganzfield had no problem with bowing gracefully and kissing her fingers to the dumbfounded Polly with a murmured “until later, m'dear”.
Sergeant Perks, dreamily tapping her teeth with her pencil while a vista of previously unimagined delights opened up before her, was brought back to a sense of her surroundings by the fifth enquiry from her clerk. Admonishing herself hurriedly Polly turned instead to the much more prosaic demands on her attention as summed up in the latest coal use figures.
~X~
Some time later, much later than Polly would have wished there came a soft knock at the door and a familiar untidy head appeared around the frame. Mal, slightly unsure of her welcome after prior events, was gifted with a smile that lit up the sergeant's whole face in the candle light and put aside all worries for the moment.
“Hey you.” A fatuous remark she knew, but her usually sharp brain had unaccountably turned to mush. Polly, however, obviously thought it acceptable as she replied with an equally soft “hey.”
For a moment it was enough just for each to gaze on the other, seeing the familiar lines of expression anew with fresh knowledge as to the emotion that was hidden beneath each quirky smile or raised eyebrow.
“Are you coming in?”
“May I?”
Polly pushed back her chair and crossing the room briskly she dragged the vampire in, shutting the door behind her firmly. Before Mal could speak she found herself pushed up against said door and welcomed in a most thorough fashion. Polly was obviously not one to be backward in coming forward. But even through the haze the prickles of Mal's conscience were still active.
“Polly...”
“What's worrying you, dearest?” The endearment flared along Mal's nerve endings unknotting the tension in her stomach, but she couldn't completely give in. Not yet. Not until she was sure. Putting Polly away from her she moved to her accustomed position on the hearth, adding an extra log to the fire as the sergeant took her place in the armchair, dragging it closer. Finally settled to her satisfaction, though with her gaze still sliding away from those penetrating blue eyes, Mal confessed her fears about subconscious thrall.
Polly laughed. She actually laughed!
“You really think that you’re that powerful? You can’t even make me get you a coffee refill and we know that that desire will always be stronger.” Leaning forward in the chair her hands cupped Mal's face, rocking the vampire from side to side gently. “C’mon Mal. We covered this. Look at me.”
Mal slowly lifted worried eyes and they were met by a reassuring smile. “This is not some society débutante chasing the debonair vampire Maladict. This is me, Polly. Who is for some idiotic reason best friend to Mal, a lowly corporal in the border guards, and most likely to stay that way despite all the advantages money can buy due to being somewhat of a snarky mischievous pain in the butt.”
She stroked back an unruly lock hair, tidying it away behind an ear where it belonged.
“Polly, a dumb sergeant who still wonders why it is this popular soldier puts time aside to teach her about the stars. Me, Mal. Polly Perks, Supply Clerk to the Army, whose day is repeatedly improved by the sight of a rascally vampire hanging around outside an office door in the vain hope of encouraging mischief.”
Polly, as she watched her words banish the fear from those expressive eyes couldn't help but think of the things left unsaid. Of the things that could not yet be said. Things like how special it felt to be the one who was lucky enough to catch the soft laughter Mal produced on rare occasion, so different from the more common sardonic bark. And how terrifying to find unexpectedly like a bolt from the blue that the way Mal smiled could melt a heart despite everything the vampire had tried over the past months to warn Polly away. She was out of her depth, lost in the woods, but damn it she was going to keep going anyway.
“You didn't make me want this, Mal. I decided it off my own bat in the face of not inconsiderable opposition. Now, are you going to keep on with this nonsensical degradation of your character or are you going to shut up and kiss me?”
Mal had to admit she presented a good argument.
Coda
Much, much later, after a respectable amount of time had elapsed[8], a small store-room in a hidden corner of the castle far up under the eaves (having recently acquired what looked like a hay mattress) gave host to an upstanding (if nervous) sergeant of the Border Blues and an exceedingly courteous vampire. Between them and the outside world lay a thick solid door (the key turned in the lock and checked and re checked by a certain sergeant with a perfectly understandable need for privacy). The host, reassuringly voluble as she led the way along maze like corridors, had vowed to lay down good money should anyone other than a insatiably curious vampire know that this room existed. Taking in the general air of cleanliness and the crackling fire in the small grate Mal looked around her at her handiwork and saw that it was good.
Polly, hovering by the door felt the tremors begin. Bluster was all very well and especially in the army could carry you far, but eventually one faced a situation where the metal - as it were - met the meat.
“Mal?”
The vampire turned to see a hesitant Polly, suddenly uncertain.
“Hey,” Mal walked back to her softly, her footsteps quiet in the empty room. Approaching slowly, as one might a rare and timid mammal, she reached out a hand and waited. Taking a deep breath Polly put hers in it. Grasping those trembling fingers lightly Mal drew the young woman toward her and capturing the final hand stood in patient silence until blue eyes lifted to black. Deep in those depths desire fought a confused battle with trepidation and won.
Hunting for reassurance Mal felt the words of a much wiser soul drop into her mind. Walking backwards as she towed Polly with her, she smiled.
“You are my little lad, and I will look after you.”
[8] The definition of a respectable amount of time is left open for enterprising folk to determine as they will. A well brought up author would never dare to presume as to the proximity of the mind of an average reader to the gutter.
~X~
ff.net permanent link
Disclaimer: Polly and Mal belong to Sir Terry Pratchett. Author makes no claims of ownership in any way. No profit is being made from this work.
Warnings: This chapter contains descriptions of a relationship between two women (yeah, I know, FINALLY). If that's not your thing please don't click below.
Previous Chapters: Summer, Autumn 1/3, Autumn 2/3, Autumn 3/3
As it was too long for one post (Still LJ? STILL?) this would be part four.
~X~
Hardly waiting for permission, Mal had already started to move and Polly had to hurry to keep up. Following as close as she could she hung on as the vampire pushed through the door and out into the cool and quiet of the outer hall. But despite the quiet without compared to the bustle within, the vestibule was full of couples, every alcove occupied and every small corner brimming with intent youths attempting to get some privacy. Mal kept going, sweeping across the tiled expanse to drag open one of the large doors to the courtyard. She halted on the threshold as the freezing air swept in.
“Bugger me!” Polly shivered violently. Folding her arms over her chest she swayed a little as the crisp air did something unpleasant to her ability to focus. She really shouldn't have had that last glance of punch.
Mal slammed the door shut again and swore under her breath as she turned back to the cluttered vestibule. It hadn't got any better since they last examined it.
“I'll get my coat.” Despite the dawning realisation that she was a little drunk, Polly realised this was one of the times that the vampire needed her quiet support and a definite lack of questions.
Mal kept step with her on that long silent walk along the quiet corridors to the supply office. It was a shame to cover up those long ago efforts in the field of high couture but Polly knew how cold the nights could be out here on the edge of the world and so didn't jibe in the face of scarf, hat and gloves. While she made sure she had gathered all the vital equipment Mal merely grabbed her own greatcoat from behind the door and slipped into it. But, though ready in seconds, the corporal waited patiently to help Polly with the more fiddly buttons.
Dragging open the main door for the second time the cold still struck a heavy blow but this time Polly just ducked her head and kept going. The quad was deserted, only a minimal number of guards were posted and the snow that had drifted back over the large flagstones during the dance was unmarked by any footprints. Mal who so far had seemed to know exactly where she was going suddenly stopped, uncertain. Left to her own devices the Polly craned her neck to pick out the guards on the outer walls. She let her head drop back and stunned by the number of stars visible she pointed vaguely upward as with only the slightest slur in her voice she murmured “pretty...”
Mal glanced over, saw what she was doing and followed the pointed finger up into the infinite sky. The view appeared to inspire her and she reached up to grab Polly's wavering hand, dragging her off in the direction of the central tower. As she followed willingly across the courtyard Polly looked up at their destination and noted that the usual sparks of light from the guards lanterns were missing.
“They're only on the outer walls tonight.” Mal had seen where she was looking and answered the unspoken question. “We'll have it to ourselves.”
She paused at the base of the tower, her hand on the door as though asking Polly permission to take this step. But it was only a tower and the stairs in this one were wide enough for the sergeant not to worry about navigating even in her slightly inebriated condition. Besides she wasn't drunk, just a little tipsy, Goldhawk's punch merely smoothing the edges of life and feeding the little voice inside that encouraged her to keep going and see where this ended up.
They climbed in silence, Polly following Mal's sure-footed ascent, and just when the sergeant was starting to get a little bit bored with stairs that went round and round but never seemed to get anywhere they emerged through the small door onto the lower roof. Up here the stars were almost close enough to touch and Polly, un-noticed behind Mal's back, reached out as though to grab at the bright sparks dangling overhead.
Having got Polly up here Mal seemed to have no plan for what to do next. As the sergeant wandered from side to side, murmuring quietly to herself at what she could see below Mal was satisfied to merely watch her perambulations while rolling the inevitable cigarette. Turning round Polly caught that gaze on her and smiled encouragingly, settling with her back against the low wall that prevented the unsteady from stumbling into the courtyard below. Whether it was the smile, or mere curiosity she couldn't say but the corporal pushed herself away from where she'd been leaning beside the door and wandered over the roof to take a place at her side. She lit the cigarette. They stood in silence, watching the guards on the Rimwards wall share a joke before moving off on their designated patrol routes.
The minute hand on the clock above the Great Hall swung ponderously up to the vertical and the noise from the dance rose to a new peak as the chimes rang out into the crisp air. It was midnight. Polly nudged the stiff shoulder next to hers.
“Happy Hogswatch, Mal.”
“Happy Hogswatch, Polly.”
Mal turned around and brushed away the snow on the parapet so she could lean more comfortably on her elbows, cigarette in hand. Voices drifted up from below, and turning round also and looking down Polly could see recognisable figures stumbling out into the snow, backlit from the bright hall. But her gaze was drawn out and up, to the mountains promising great things for the future. Buoyed up on a gentle fuzz of alcohol Polly found herself humming under her breath but recognising the tune she stopped short, the blush rising to her cheeks despite the cold air. Mal moved uncomfortably, elbows shifting on the wall. Suddenly it seemed she had come to a decision and she stood up bracing herself with locked arms on the parapet. She abruptly stubbed out the cigarette in the snow and turning to Polly asked, as though determined to get the words out before she changed her mind.
“Would you dance with me?”
It wasn’t the question Polly had anticipated, expecting some request perhaps to stop humming that infernal song. She stood open mouthed. Mal, gentleman to the last, reiterated the question with a greater degree of politeness.
“Would you do me the great honour of allowing me the pleasure of this dance?”
Polly smiled, as Mal unconsciously echoed Goldhawk's approach. Breeding did tell after-all. Even when standing in ankle deep snow. Yet even as she enjoyed the moment her corporal indicated with the most delicate bow that the aforementioned dancing partner was still waiting. Mal was the epitome of calm but for some reason the hand she held out trembled in the clear air. It was the uncertainty that caught Polly’s heart. Vampires weren’t meant to be unsure. They were cold and supercilious to the core, not vulnerable or hesitant, standing there hopeful but desperately afraid of rejection.
Polly thought about uncertainty, remembering a stolen glimpse of lonely eyes, a sheepish vampire hands in pockets hovering outside her half opened door waiting for her to finish her paperwork. A wrinkled nose produced when deep in thought, hair usually so pristine mussed in frustration and a mischievous grin that could break out at a minutes notice over a serious face. About disappointment shielded behind dry wit, an ever present coffee addiction, and a little smile without agenda that snuck out sometimes for Polly and Polly alone. Freely, without any anticipation of second thoughts, she placed her life in that outstretched hand.
Disappointingly the actual detail of the dance was uncomfortable and awkward. Bulked up in big coats they could only stumble like around in clumsy circles like great bears and Polly's heart ached desperately, knowing this couldn’t have been what Mal had wanted. But when the vampire halted suddenly causing Polly to bump into her she looked up into sparkling dark eyes that held just a hint of mischief. Mal, it appeared, had had an idea. The reassuring smile Polly remembered all too well from previous “great ideas” broke out over that mobile face as Mal uttered the fateful lines.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.” There had never been any resisting that.
Mal let go of her hands for a moment to shrug out of her greatcoat and Polly wondered again why the vampire never wore gloves or any of the other accoutrements necessary for warmth in this climate. But her train of thought was brought shuddering to a halt as Mal began to remove the glove from her left hand. It was 10 below up here on the tower and Polly naturally pulled back, wondering what trick this was. But Mal merely held on as the gloved hand jerked in hers and repeated the earlier challenge.
“Do you trust me?”
And of course she did. It was only a glove; her fingers wouldn’t fall off in the next five minutes, surely.
Bare hand in bare hand they stood there under the stars. Polly, her breath streaming out in visible evidence of the temperature stretched her fingers in the firm cool grasp, marvelling at the warmth flowing through them and up into her arm.
Mal removed the other glove, carefully maintaining at all times a connection of skin to skin. Reaching up to lift off that old contentious hat, the corporal must have forgotten she still had Polly’s hand captured safely in one hand as she trailed the back of the other down a cold cheek, her fingers sliding gently over the contours of her face. A light touch drifted up to her forehead and then back around her ear, tucking away the merest strand of hair.
“You should wear your hair down more often, it suits you.” Mal smiled and traced the line of her eyebrow before finally allowing her hand to drop away.
It must be to keep the magic working, reasoned Polly, finding a moment to think as Mal stood before her, both hands captured, a considering look on her face.
It was the scarf, Polly realised suddenly. It was going to need two hands and was thus creating a mild hiccup in the carefully thought out plan of action. Mal eventually solved the problem by releasing Polly's hands for a brief second to loosen the coils, before lifting it gently over her head with a spare hand.
After that, not even the difficult buttons on Polly’s overcoat could put up much resistance. Left handed (her other hand seemingly now permanently connected to Polly’s) Mal released them slowly, one by one, Polly’s breath catching as the last one refused to cooperate for a moment before falling to those dexterous fingers. She turned slowly, allowing the coat to be lifted away and then found herself, having reached the terminus of her slow spin, captured once again in those slim hands. Mal met her smile with a soft one of her own and whispering: “shall we?” led her once again into the simple steps.
It was easier this time. Without the coats between them Polly found she fit perfectly into her partner’s graceful hold and the music drifted up from below to guide their steps while the pinpricks of stars overhead twinkled brighter than the most expensive chandeliers. It was a moment out of time. Nothing existed but the cool hand in Polly's and the guiding pressure in the small of her back. They moved together, watched over only by the guarding mountains and Polly would never be able to say when exactly Mal brought her that last few inches closer, folding their clasped hands under her chin.
This was the only place in the world Polly wanted to be, pressed up against this young woman, nowhere not touching, as they swayed together under the stars. Her own hand slid without conscious decision to rest in the small of Mal’s back as she lowered her head onto a firm shoulder and inhaling the mingled scents of coffee and tobacco she wished she could capture the moment for ever. It was in this state of mind that she felt rather than saw Mal’s movement and instinctively lifted her head so that it was her lips that received the kiss rather than Mal’s intended target.
It was the merest smidgeon of contact, just a light brush of lips and as the connection broke Polly could feel the whipcord tension in the body pressed against hers. While her thoughts might be spinning in an attempt to clarify what exactly had just happened Mal seemed well in control of the situation and cautiously holding herself in check. A large part of Polly's mind screamed at her to ignore this, to concentrate instead on how good that had felt and what exactly one needed to do to induce it to happen again.
The solution was provided for her as Mal bent her head again and having already had one run at the experience Polly slipped urgent fingers up over those tense shoulders to twine them through those tempting strands of short dark hair as she had long wanted to do. Responding to this affront on her dignity with a distressed sound, the vampire's hands which were had been hovering in civilised manner at Polly's waist suddenly tightened, pulling the sergeant closer with unconscious need. There were parts of Mal colliding with parts of Polly in all sorts of interesting ways and she was afraid she may have moaned.
Mal froze.
Unafraid Polly waited, held close in those encircling arms. She was at the top of an exposed tower on a freezing hogswatch night but her forehead was resting quietly against Mal's neck and she couldn't think of anywhere else she'd rather be.
“Polly.” As Mal gently called her name, the soft tones couldn't help but remind Polly of the time she'd first heard them, rousing her from sleep in the pre-dawn light of that very first autumn patrol.
She had never told Mal that she'd heard her, or that she'd felt the gentle touch of chill fingers against her cheek. But the vague memory of that tender voice reaching down into her dreams had persisted despite all Polly's sensible intentions, cropping up every now and then to invade the drowsy drifting moments as she hung on the edge of sleep cocooned in enfolding blankets. At these times, when her ability to resist temptation was lowered by encroaching slumber, Polly would have to admit that occasionally she did allow her replaying of the situation to continue beyond the bounds of historical accuracy.
That whole patrol had been something out of the ordinary, the balmy autumn days providing a series of perfect moments one after another and Polly felt her lips curl into a smile against a protruding collarbone at the memory.
“Polly.” The call was repeated a little louder but again went ignored, Polly currently finding Mal's neck much more fascinating, clumsily exploring the smooth skin that lay cool under her warm lips.
True enough there were other areas of potential interest, but Polly wasn't fussy, especially when flying high on one too many glasses of punch. The neck was what she was offered so the neck was what she would take. Besides, if Mal was going to invade Polly's office and curl up on her hearth, head tilted to one side as she serenaded her precious gramophone then she couldn't blame Polly for taking the opportunity to investigate the area in question when such occasion arose. Her explorations passed unwittingly over a pulse point and she felt the explosion of heat as the vampire flushed and jerked under her touch.
“Polly.” Mal allowed a warning tone to slip into her voice.
Polly obediently stopped exploring and let herself just lean against that familiar chest. Mal was solidity to rest against in a whirling world, the encircling arms keeping her safe. The army had turned out all-right in the end but sometimes it was heaven to stop having to be everything Borogravia wanted from her, to step aside from being Sergeant Perks for a minute and just be. She blinked and lifted her head to see Mal's eyes darker than usual against the star pricked sky. It was funny, that face was so familiar, the planes and shadows as well known to her as the sword calluses on her own hands. It seemed idiotic that Polly hadn't been able to read the incredible truth hidden there until tonight.
It was while she was processing this that she saw the view. The tower lay all of ten feet below them, darkly silhouetted against the lights that were streaming out from the Great Hall in wide bars across the drifting snow.
Adrenaline is a great introducer of reality and the real world swung back into prominence as Polly grabbed on to Mal for an entirely different reason, her fear driving the need not to be separated from the tense body under her hands.
“If you drop me!”
But Mal didn’t produce the laugh Polly had expected, the vampire silent as she concentrated on guiding them down. Landing them both safely she took an immediate step back. Polly reached for her, smiling, but a second retreating step penetrated the fuzz of punch surrounding her brain and she stopped in confusion. The after effects of the drink were fuddling her thoughts and the wind struck cold now that Mal was no longer maintaining the contact between them. She shivered and reached out for that slim hand again, needing to reassure her companion that things were ok.
“Leave it Pol.”
Mal turned away, searching out and collecting up the various warm winter woollies they had discarded so heedlessly. Holding out the coat for Polly to put on she continued to refrain from smiling, silent still as she handed over the other accoutrements whilst managing to maintain a generous distance between them.
“Why?” The small voice was trying so hard not to show hurt and Mal paused, unable to meet Polly's eyes.
There was only the hat left to put on and as Mal stepped in and slipped the hat over blond curls she lightly kissed the forehead between her hands.
“You’re drunk. A gentleman never takes advantage of a lady not in full control of her actions. I couldn’t.”
Polly attempted to protest but Mal wasn’t paying attention, her eyes lifted to the guarding mountains that encircled them. Responding to Polly's hand on her sleeve she dragged her gaze back from the lofty peaks but still seemed unable to meet the sergeant's eyes. Staring at her feet instead she appeared to struggle to find the words she needed.
Polly waited and eventually Mal sighed and lifted her eyes. Forgiving blue met apologetic black and below them the clock struck the quarter. Mal waited for the mocking echoes to fade before she at last spoke.
“I should have said something before Pol, I'm sorry. But I thought I wouldn't have to, I thought we could avoid this whole embarrassing scenario. I swear to you, I never meant it to come to this.”
She straightened the links of Polly's scarf, tucking the ends in carefully to make sure not a single millimetre of skin was exposed to the cold. Nervous fingers flicked a piece of lint from Polly's shoulder before reaching down and capturing a willing hand in order to ensure there was no gap between cuff and woollen glove. It was displacement activity of the most obvious order, but it seemed to give Mal the courage to continue haltingly.
“You never knew, but I wanted you back then, back at the beginning. You were beautiful and smart and cheeky and young and so... so tempting and I know it sounds stupid but I was lost from the first moment I saw you. Well, maybe the second. But you weren't interested, you weren't that kind of girl and that was fair enough - I've never pushed.”
Polly opened her mouth to deny something, but Mal's up-flung hand stopped her.
“But I came to see there was more to Polly Perks than that cheeky over-cocky, over-clever brat with no idea of which fights weren't worth picking. You were confusing and real and not always right but able to work out a way through anyway and I decided that if you wouldn't have me, so be it, I’d put my hand up to it and Maladict would be the best damn friend a girl ever had.” She smiled weakly. “It was a steep learning curve at times, but I stuck to it.” Her voice dropped and became more introspective. “And as I got to know that Polly Perks I realised I'd do anything to keep her friendship. Anything.”
Mal paused and took a deliberate step back, freeing her hand from Polly's and watching it drop away with quiet sadness, unmasked now and vulnerable in her openness. She took a steadying breath, drawing back up her defences.
“So now, as a friend, I'm advising you not to do this. Let it go, chalk it up to a stupid misunderstanding between two people too drunk to know better and allow it to fade away. We’re called abominations for a reason”. She moved away. “You’d best go down and get warm.”
“Mal.” The figure paused, the heavy door latch under her hand. “Please, don't go.”
“I’m sorry.” She didn't turn round. “Happy Hogswatch Polly”
Left alone on the tower Polly swore. Not for long (she still didn’t know that many words) but long enough to build up enough rage to kick the parapet. It hurt, reminding her of Mal's sardonic comments on the quality (or lack of it) of her boots. She paced up and down the small square of roof for a short while; consigning Mal to a number of unpleasant situations mainly involving sharpened wooden implements (a ladle entertained her for a good few minutes). But eventually the cold began to bite and as the frustration wore off a low sort of depression crept in to replace the burning heat of her rage. It wasn't everyday a vampire turned down your advances and she was definitely owed a bit of moping. However, as she slumped miserably against the parapet where it had all started she began to think. Really think.
It wasn’t hard to find holes in Mal’s idiotic conclusions. Polly remembered a conversation quietly shared in the middle of the night that time they'd had their first real argument (about thrall of all things). Mal, for all her quick brain, did have this birdbrained tendency to jump to the wrong conclusions from time to time. This was obviously one of those occasions when she needed a more sensible person to make the decisions for her. Even if those decisions involved tying the blessed imbecile to a chair and batting her around the head with a length of iron bar until she came to her senses.
Polly dwelt on that image for a long and exceedingly satisfying moment.
Really, when you got down to it, the whole thing was very simple. You couldn't not do something you'd already done, no matter how much somebody advised you it wasn't a good idea. Mal could talk until the cows came home about making the right decision, but there was no decision here to make. Polly had already decided.
As she looked out over the peaceful town a song rose to her lips and she smiled.
“I couldn't say what made it so exciting...
Why all at once my heart took flight...
I only know when she
Began to dance with me
I could have...” [7]
However, Polly thought as she made her way carefully down the tower stairs, she might have to get a little sneaky in order to get Mal to agree.
[6] Let's Face The Music And Dance, Nat King Cole
[7] I could have danced all night, written by Frederick Loewe and lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner
~X~
“Corporal Maladict?” The vampire looked up to see Ganzfield hovering in the doorway. She put down her coffee grinder and at the signal of her attention her continued, “Sergeant Perks would like you to drop by the office at your earliest convenience.” He paused. “Is there an answer?”
“Tell her,” Mal paused, fighting the clammy sensation suddenly twisting in her belly. “Tell her I'll be over this afternoon.” It was apparently time. Mal wiped suddenly damp hands on her breeches and tried to focus on the usually calming process of brewing coffee.
Damn.
~X~
Ganzfield was making a neat and succinct note in one of the many files currently piled up on the Supply Clerk's desk so he didn't see Polly look up swiftly at the tentative knock at her door. As he didn't immediately allow the noise to interrupt his careful underlining of a salient point he also missed the smile that flashed over her face as she caught a glimpse of a vampire hovering in the corridor, shoulders hunched, hands thrust deep into her pockets. He did however notice that she dismissed him with some abruptness and almost didn't wait until he was out of the door before acknowledging her visitor.
“Come in!”
Ganzfield should have taken his armful of files and gone back to his desk to immerse himself in the minutiae of maintenance payments on kitchen utensils. But the vampire he had passed in the corridor had looked more on edge than usual and, as Ganzfield didn't want to have to train another new boss, he hovered nervously in his office doorway instead. Thus it was he saw the vampire slouch into the room and come to a halt in the centre of the rug. Corporal Maladict did not salute.
“At ease Corporal.” He heard Sergeant Perks push back her chair and she came into view as she rounded the desk to perch on the edge, legs extended, ankles crossed. Not until she was settled comfortably did she break the silence.
“I believe there is some unfinished business we need to address.”
Creeping forward down the corridor Ganzfield noticed that it looked like she was fighting some sort of facial twitch.
The pause so unkindly left languishing on the rug between the two occupants of the office lengthened until it became almost unbearable. Corporal Maladict seemed unable to lift his eyes from the pattern of the floor covering at his feet.
“I’ve not had a drink for three days.” Sergeant Perks hefted herself away from the desk, crossing her arms as she stepped forward, now within a foot of the vampire. “I think I would, by all methods of measurement, be considered sober.”
She glanced up and caught sight of Ganzfield as he stood ready to rush in and save her from insane undead vampire corporals. Frowning a detailed and threatening dismissal, she quickly crossed the floor and closed the door solidly in his face. With a sigh and a shake of the head, Ganzfield went back to his files.
~X~
Polly had returned to her desk and once again took up her perch.
“Now Corporal, I do believe there was a conversation that took place between us recently, where you alluded to a big decision I needed to mull over before making up my mind?”
“Yes Sergeant?”
Mal was employing the patented expressions for use when facing a superior officer with a grievance and Polly was forced to bite the inside of her cheek in order to keep her equanimity. She persevered.
“Yes, Corporal. Now, it is my well-considered opinion that three days is quite long enough to spend in consideration of something so important.” She leant back on her knuckles. “Don’t you agree?”
Mal took a minute to consider her options and settled on a shrug.
Polly was still talking. “It may interest you to know, Corporal, that I’ve come to my decision.”
Before her, Mal held her breath, praying for the strength to bear the words in dignified silence.
“You are an unmitigated ass!”
At that Mal did look up and blinking in confusion she was unprepared for what came next. Having dismounted from the desk Polly began to employ a series of painful pokes to the chest, each one a little more pointed to emphasise her statement.
“Corporal it is with great irritation that I have to inform you that you are a Dope! A Dufus! A veritable idiot of the first order!” Her sergeant drew breath.
At this point, Mal, employing that aggravating gift to dodge almost any attack took advantage of the second of warning to slip away and put a certain amount of distance (including the desk) between them. Reaching the sanctuary of the window she flicked a smidgeon of dust from her cuff.
~X~
Polly was still advancing. Mal, caught in a corner, began to seriously consider clambering out through the window and scaling the outside wall.
“Gods-dammit Mal!” Polly had rounded the desk and was coming on strong. “I’m a woman in the army for goodness sake! I don’t even exist! You think any of your stupid reasons (including the fact that I might wreck my career over this - yes, I saw it on the tip of your tongue) will prevent me, from making up my own mind about the most annoying, rascally and impertinent vampire I ever met?”
Mal swallowed. She had forgotten what she was going to say. In all truth she had quite possibly forgotten the sequence of muscle movements that led to the production of the spoken word by use of a voice box and larynx.
Polly waited.
There are times when a gentleman, or at least an abomination attempting to follow the rules of behaviour of the upper set, should stand up for themselves against the tyranny of an overbearing bully. There are times when any sane being knows that they should step up and do the right thing. But Mal, remembering that even the most exalted persons had allowed discretion to be the better part of valour decided that on this occasion, despite incredible provocation there was nothing she could do but humour the lunatic before her.
She shrugged.
Polly, boldly taking the gesture as a sign of submission, moved in with purpose and thus began the second attempt to completely corrupt Corporal Maladict against her will.
“Are you sure?” Mal found words at last, struggling to believe the reality of the woman now in her arms.
“No, you idiot.” Polly's attempt to soften her words with a smile were well received. “I'm not at all sure but I've wanted to for a long time and I've waited my three days and now I am going to kiss you.”
After a small period of exploration, during which Mal found her hands dropping from where they were defensively holding back Polly's upper arms to slide supportively around her waist, they settled out into a comfortable position with Sergeant Perks's head resting without fear on the shoulder of a dangerous vampire.
“Hmm.”
“Hmm?” Mal, tilting her head to bring that thoughtful face into view found Polly was touching her tongue to her bottom lip with a very odd expression on her face.
The vampire loosened her hold immediately. Damn. Why had she assumed that an attempt au natural would have been acceptable? Cursing herself for not using even the smallest drop of glamour, Mal racked her brain for a way, any way to ease out of the difficult moment. This was an unmitigated disaster. She would have to run away to sea and be a sailor. And she didn't even like boats...
“Teeth.” Polly explained.
“Oh.” Overcome with relief Mal managed to hold back the laugh but couldn't quite banish the dancing devils that drifted back into her eyes. “Were you not expecting them?”
“Shameful brat.” Polly blushed. “You may well laugh. It appears I hadn't quite thought through the mechanics of the thing.”
“Ah.” Mal settled herself more comfortably against the window embrasure ignoring the rough stone digging into her spine. A thought trickled into her mind that Polly could really look no better than at this very moment, peeping up through her lashes with the blush still lingering on her cheeks.
“Do they...?”
“Retract? Unfortunately, no.” Mal let the smile linger, canines unashamedly on show. It was amusing to watch as Polly attempted to apply logic to the problem. Of course, with her many years of experience Mal had any number of solutions to suggest but Sergeant Perks had got herself into this mess, let the sergeant get herself out.
“Hmm.” Polly lifted a hand to Mal's chin, turning the vampire's head this way and that as she examined her teeth for all as though she were a servant waiting in the market to be bought. Coming to a decision she nodded, a determined expression creeping over her face as she released her hold.
“Right” Polly ran a tongue over her lips and appeared to be preparing for another assault but Mal checked her momentarily, enquiring as to whether the sergeant was certain of her intent. Polly frowned.
“Of course I'm sure! Dammit Mal, apart from the minor teeth problem it's pretty damn well near exceeding expectations.”
“Oh.”
Blast Polly, the incorrigible darling had the gall to grin up at her and attempt a wink. Holding the advancing Polly back Mal took a brief second to thank her lucky stars for what she was about to willingly receive.
“In that case...” her own wicked grin peeked out. “It's much less of a problem if you rotate in from the left.”
Polly, still apparently pondering the mechanics of the matter, looked up in surprise and Mal, ever willing to make good use of an unexpected attack approved heartily of the position this left her in and took charge. It was a much better effort, Polly navigating around the obstructions as and when they cropped up and Mal doing her best to guide explorations away from potential problems. In fact the experience was only marred by the exceedingly unwelcome interruption of Ganzfield. His unexpected arrival caused the protagonists to spring apart and when he was far enough through the door to see anything he found Polly shuffling idly through the untidy heap of papers on her desk while Mal appeared to have found something of great interest outside the window.
“Oh.” He paused uncertainly. “Excuse me Ma'am. I didn't know you were still indisposed.”
Polly blushed and delightedly watching the sergeant's reflection in the window Mal admired the effect this had on her dimples, the little dips emphasised by the deepening colour. Pulling herself together, Polly managed to produce something that passed as an intelligent enquiry into Ganzfield's needs.
“It's just the coal order Ma'am. I'll come back later. Sorry to have disturbed you.”
“No, no Ganzfield.” Mal had never been able to resist temptation. “The life of the Border Blues must go on.” She smiled tenderly into the worried eyes that flashed up to hers and began to drift across the room in the direction of the door. “My conversation with the sergeant can just as easily be continued at some other time.” She forbore to wink, but Polly, worryingly easily able to read her mind blushed anyway. Again. Assuming correctly that the sergeant would be unable to find her voice in time Mal paused in the doorway and knowing she was out of sight behind Ganzfield had no problem with bowing gracefully and kissing her fingers to the dumbfounded Polly with a murmured “until later, m'dear”.
Sergeant Perks, dreamily tapping her teeth with her pencil while a vista of previously unimagined delights opened up before her, was brought back to a sense of her surroundings by the fifth enquiry from her clerk. Admonishing herself hurriedly Polly turned instead to the much more prosaic demands on her attention as summed up in the latest coal use figures.
~X~
Some time later, much later than Polly would have wished there came a soft knock at the door and a familiar untidy head appeared around the frame. Mal, slightly unsure of her welcome after prior events, was gifted with a smile that lit up the sergeant's whole face in the candle light and put aside all worries for the moment.
“Hey you.” A fatuous remark she knew, but her usually sharp brain had unaccountably turned to mush. Polly, however, obviously thought it acceptable as she replied with an equally soft “hey.”
For a moment it was enough just for each to gaze on the other, seeing the familiar lines of expression anew with fresh knowledge as to the emotion that was hidden beneath each quirky smile or raised eyebrow.
“Are you coming in?”
“May I?”
Polly pushed back her chair and crossing the room briskly she dragged the vampire in, shutting the door behind her firmly. Before Mal could speak she found herself pushed up against said door and welcomed in a most thorough fashion. Polly was obviously not one to be backward in coming forward. But even through the haze the prickles of Mal's conscience were still active.
“Polly...”
“What's worrying you, dearest?” The endearment flared along Mal's nerve endings unknotting the tension in her stomach, but she couldn't completely give in. Not yet. Not until she was sure. Putting Polly away from her she moved to her accustomed position on the hearth, adding an extra log to the fire as the sergeant took her place in the armchair, dragging it closer. Finally settled to her satisfaction, though with her gaze still sliding away from those penetrating blue eyes, Mal confessed her fears about subconscious thrall.
Polly laughed. She actually laughed!
“You really think that you’re that powerful? You can’t even make me get you a coffee refill and we know that that desire will always be stronger.” Leaning forward in the chair her hands cupped Mal's face, rocking the vampire from side to side gently. “C’mon Mal. We covered this. Look at me.”
Mal slowly lifted worried eyes and they were met by a reassuring smile. “This is not some society débutante chasing the debonair vampire Maladict. This is me, Polly. Who is for some idiotic reason best friend to Mal, a lowly corporal in the border guards, and most likely to stay that way despite all the advantages money can buy due to being somewhat of a snarky mischievous pain in the butt.”
She stroked back an unruly lock hair, tidying it away behind an ear where it belonged.
“Polly, a dumb sergeant who still wonders why it is this popular soldier puts time aside to teach her about the stars. Me, Mal. Polly Perks, Supply Clerk to the Army, whose day is repeatedly improved by the sight of a rascally vampire hanging around outside an office door in the vain hope of encouraging mischief.”
Polly, as she watched her words banish the fear from those expressive eyes couldn't help but think of the things left unsaid. Of the things that could not yet be said. Things like how special it felt to be the one who was lucky enough to catch the soft laughter Mal produced on rare occasion, so different from the more common sardonic bark. And how terrifying to find unexpectedly like a bolt from the blue that the way Mal smiled could melt a heart despite everything the vampire had tried over the past months to warn Polly away. She was out of her depth, lost in the woods, but damn it she was going to keep going anyway.
“You didn't make me want this, Mal. I decided it off my own bat in the face of not inconsiderable opposition. Now, are you going to keep on with this nonsensical degradation of your character or are you going to shut up and kiss me?”
Mal had to admit she presented a good argument.
Coda
Much, much later, after a respectable amount of time had elapsed[8], a small store-room in a hidden corner of the castle far up under the eaves (having recently acquired what looked like a hay mattress) gave host to an upstanding (if nervous) sergeant of the Border Blues and an exceedingly courteous vampire. Between them and the outside world lay a thick solid door (the key turned in the lock and checked and re checked by a certain sergeant with a perfectly understandable need for privacy). The host, reassuringly voluble as she led the way along maze like corridors, had vowed to lay down good money should anyone other than a insatiably curious vampire know that this room existed. Taking in the general air of cleanliness and the crackling fire in the small grate Mal looked around her at her handiwork and saw that it was good.
Polly, hovering by the door felt the tremors begin. Bluster was all very well and especially in the army could carry you far, but eventually one faced a situation where the metal - as it were - met the meat.
“Mal?”
The vampire turned to see a hesitant Polly, suddenly uncertain.
“Hey,” Mal walked back to her softly, her footsteps quiet in the empty room. Approaching slowly, as one might a rare and timid mammal, she reached out a hand and waited. Taking a deep breath Polly put hers in it. Grasping those trembling fingers lightly Mal drew the young woman toward her and capturing the final hand stood in patient silence until blue eyes lifted to black. Deep in those depths desire fought a confused battle with trepidation and won.
Hunting for reassurance Mal felt the words of a much wiser soul drop into her mind. Walking backwards as she towed Polly with her, she smiled.
“You are my little lad, and I will look after you.”
[8] The definition of a respectable amount of time is left open for enterprising folk to determine as they will. A well brought up author would never dare to presume as to the proximity of the mind of an average reader to the gutter.
~X~
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