storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2012-01-20 01:42 pm
storypaint) wrote2012-01-20 01:42 pm
[Discworld] all roads lead home (Carrot/Angua)
Title: all roads lead home
Fandom: Discworld
Length: 568 words
Prompt: Christmas card fic!
Pairing: Carrot/Angua
Other: n/a
Excerpt: Angua hates Hogswatchnight shopping. She hates the whole Hogswatchnight season, in fact. Something about the artificial snow and artificial boars and artificial cheer strikes her as... fake.
Angua hates Hogswatchnight shopping. She hates the whole Hogswatchnight season, in fact. Something about the artificial snow and artificial boars and artificial cheer strikes her as... fake.
But of course Carrot loves it. Hogswatch is his season, just as spring is his season, and summer, and fall. His face gets ruddy in the cold, but remains good-natured, and shopkeepers fall over themselves to offer him hot chocolate (without rum of course, which would be the only way to make the sludge tolerable in Angua's opinion).
She tries to like the season for Carrot's sake. She buys lipstick for Cheery and donates to Sybil's dragon fund in Vimes's name, which is one of her few traditions (his dumbfounded look when he receives the thank-you card is totally worth it). But she always seems to end up out at the shops days before the holiday, trying to choose a present for Carrot.
The problem is that he needs nothing and seems not to want, either. When he wants to purchase something, he says nothing about it and saves his check (without skimping out on the amount he sends back home, never) and then he buys it, without a word to anyone beforehand. Angua has been considering buying him socks, for goodness sake. But then she came into work today and there was a pair of knobbly purple ones on her desk. Apparently Sybil had knitted a pair for all of the sergeants, so of course Carrot was wearing his, and so that gift idea fell through.
The second problem is that no matter what Angua gives Carrot, he'll like it. She could give him a used handkerchief and he'd praise it. But she really doesn't want to do that.
She stares into shop windows, shielding her eyes with a hand, and when she sees the man slipping things into his pockets, she's inside with her hand on his arm in what feels like one smooth motion. She bares her teeth. The man's fingers go limp. He can't meet her eyes, his gaze caught below her nose. She growls just a little. His pockets empty as if by magic.
The shopkeeper is thankful, and she's marched the unlicensed thief all the way back to the watchhouse before she realizes that she still doesn't have a present for Carrot. She swallows a curse and hands the thief off to Colon. Carrot is at his desk, painstakingly writing a report. He's biting his tongue as he spells something long and adds a comment. There's a half-forgotten cup of cocoa congealing on his desk. Angua feels a sudden fondness for him, a sort of deep pleasant feeling that warms her down to her toes. She thinks that maybe this is what Hogswatchnight spirit is supposed to feel like -- not the deep chilling cold of the dark nights, not the irritation from an increase in shoplifting, but this. Love. Unfaked.
She'll worry about the gift tomorrow. Carrot looks up from his report and smiles for a moment before returning to his work. She kind of wants to curl up under his desk and take a nap on his feet. Maybe later, when there's no one around to snicker.
Hogswatch is really just one day out of the year, after all. The rest count too.
Fandom: Discworld
Length: 568 words
Prompt: Christmas card fic!
Pairing: Carrot/Angua
Other: n/a
Excerpt: Angua hates Hogswatchnight shopping. She hates the whole Hogswatchnight season, in fact. Something about the artificial snow and artificial boars and artificial cheer strikes her as... fake.
Angua hates Hogswatchnight shopping. She hates the whole Hogswatchnight season, in fact. Something about the artificial snow and artificial boars and artificial cheer strikes her as... fake.
But of course Carrot loves it. Hogswatch is his season, just as spring is his season, and summer, and fall. His face gets ruddy in the cold, but remains good-natured, and shopkeepers fall over themselves to offer him hot chocolate (without rum of course, which would be the only way to make the sludge tolerable in Angua's opinion).
She tries to like the season for Carrot's sake. She buys lipstick for Cheery and donates to Sybil's dragon fund in Vimes's name, which is one of her few traditions (his dumbfounded look when he receives the thank-you card is totally worth it). But she always seems to end up out at the shops days before the holiday, trying to choose a present for Carrot.
The problem is that he needs nothing and seems not to want, either. When he wants to purchase something, he says nothing about it and saves his check (without skimping out on the amount he sends back home, never) and then he buys it, without a word to anyone beforehand. Angua has been considering buying him socks, for goodness sake. But then she came into work today and there was a pair of knobbly purple ones on her desk. Apparently Sybil had knitted a pair for all of the sergeants, so of course Carrot was wearing his, and so that gift idea fell through.
The second problem is that no matter what Angua gives Carrot, he'll like it. She could give him a used handkerchief and he'd praise it. But she really doesn't want to do that.
She stares into shop windows, shielding her eyes with a hand, and when she sees the man slipping things into his pockets, she's inside with her hand on his arm in what feels like one smooth motion. She bares her teeth. The man's fingers go limp. He can't meet her eyes, his gaze caught below her nose. She growls just a little. His pockets empty as if by magic.
The shopkeeper is thankful, and she's marched the unlicensed thief all the way back to the watchhouse before she realizes that she still doesn't have a present for Carrot. She swallows a curse and hands the thief off to Colon. Carrot is at his desk, painstakingly writing a report. He's biting his tongue as he spells something long and adds a comment. There's a half-forgotten cup of cocoa congealing on his desk. Angua feels a sudden fondness for him, a sort of deep pleasant feeling that warms her down to her toes. She thinks that maybe this is what Hogswatchnight spirit is supposed to feel like -- not the deep chilling cold of the dark nights, not the irritation from an increase in shoplifting, but this. Love. Unfaked.
She'll worry about the gift tomorrow. Carrot looks up from his report and smiles for a moment before returning to his work. She kind of wants to curl up under his desk and take a nap on his feet. Maybe later, when there's no one around to snicker.
Hogswatch is really just one day out of the year, after all. The rest count too.