Pairing: Polly/Mal
Characters: Polly, Shufti
Rating: A

Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with Terry Pratchett or Discworld.

Dish
by Amazon Syren

Betty and Polly were in the Inn's enormous kitchen, putting away the last of the dishes from the evening rush. Outside the window, the stars were coming out above the mountains.

"Someone's preoccupied," said Betty, watching as Polly washed the same dish for the third time.

"What? Oh. Just... Thinking, is all."

Betty shifted a stack of plates, and looked at Polly expectantly.

"About the others, I mean." Polly put down the dish and leaned against the counter. "Are we ever going to see them again, do you think?"

"Well," said Betty, considering, "I'm damn— darn sure we won't be seeing Lofty and Tonker for a while."

Polly smiled. "I wonder if Wazzer— Alice, I mean, and Igorina ever see each other? They're both in the capital, after all."

She was folding and re-folding the dish-rag, and didn't appear to know that she was doing it. Betty had never fooled herself into thinking she was clever, but she knew perfectly well that she wasn't stupid.

"We never did find out where Mal went," she said innocently, setting the stack of plates on their shelf.

"No..." said Polly, quietly. "We never did."

Betty, who had watched Maladict follow Polly around like a lost puppy and, because of that, had half-expected every stage coach for the last six months to disgorge a love-sick vampire, couldn't help feeling a little bad for Polly. "You two were getting quite close by the end there, weren't you?" she ventured, gently.

"What? No. Not really. Mal just needed a friend, I guess, and I got the luck of the draw."

Betty raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You're telling me that all that sneaking off to whisper in corners was, was... buddy stuff?"

Polly looked at her for a moment, and then began to laugh. "You didn't— we- I— You don't seriously think I want to go walking out with Maladict, do you??"

"If the clog fits, my girl..."

"No!" she protested. "I can't do that. Mal's... Mal's a—" a girl, um, "a vampire for gods' sakes. We'd have to... date in the dark, or something."

"Best place for it," said Betty with a grin. "Take it from me."

"Shufti!" Polly glared. "It just wouldn't, it... no. No. Mal's Mal. That'd just be... strange."

Betty suppressed a smile as she lifted another stack of dishes.

But you've been thinking about it, haven't you.