Chapter Text
Vimes stood to attention, cold sweat streaming down his forehead. He'd fucked up. He'd fucked up, and if he were lucky, he might just leave the room in one piece, but it didn't seem likely.
"Tell me, Sir Samuel..." The slender form of the Patrician slowly walked out from behind his desk and turned to directly face the commander. "... do you think about me often?"
The man swallowed, trying not to meet Vetinari's piercing gaze; instead he fixed his eyes on the wall to his left as he often did.
"As much as I've got to, sir. What with the bloody constant attempts on your life. Sir."
Lord Vetinari raised an eyebrow, and Vimes began praying with all he had. Then the corners of his mouth just barely quirked up, and Vimes realized the gods couldn't help him out with this one. He kept very, very still as the taller man took a step closer.
"I don't think that was what I asked, Your Grace."
"Sir?" His Grace suddenly had a great interest in looking god damn anywhere other than those eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm not picking up--"
Vetinari raised his hand slightly, and he paused.
"I believe you understand me very well, Sir Samuel." He watched out for and was pleased to see the man's breaths hitch. His Lordship began very slowly circling Sam Vimes, who was still in the exact same stance, staring at the same spot.
"Do you, my dear Vimes," Vetinari breathed in his ear, "think about me often?"
Vimes blinked. The Patrician took a moment to turn back and face him. There was silence.
"Sir," Vimes choked out.
"Was that a Yes, sir, or a No, sir; Vimes?" Both eyebrows ever-so-slightly raised up. The Commander could barely think. He knew, he knew what the sir meant. They both did. He was just playing with him, because of course he was.
Vimes gritted his teeth.
"I think you know damn well which sir it was, sir."
The Patrician looked amused for a moment, letting Vimes's mind supply him all the possible escape routes. But against all instinct, he pointed his sharp glare into Vetinari's pale eyes.
The distance between them got suddenly closer, and Vimes found himself regretting every choice he'd taken in his life that had brought him here.
"I do think, in fact, that I do. And you'd be doing yourself a favor if you remembered it." Vimes could feel the Patrician's breaths as he spoke. "And you yourself occupy quite a bit of my time, if you'd like to know."
Huh? Hold on, what did that-- Vimes staggered back, nearly hitting a wall.
"I'm a bit busy, at the moment," Lord Vetinari continued like nothing had happened, "but I'd be quite pleased if you considered it and let me know. As for now, you are free to go."
Without even a moment's hesitation, Vimes turned around, wordlessly left, and very carefully closed the door behind him. No stomping around, no pacing; even a good old-fashioned punch to the plaster would've been fine, but alas. Vetinari felt like he should be worried.