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Pairing: Polly/Mal
Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with Terry Pratchett or Discworld.
First Snowfall
Polly woke suddenly. Something was different. Excitement coursed through her veins as she realised the room was filled with that special kind of light that means either it’s snowed in the night or someone’s installed floodlights in the street for nefarious purposes. Reaching over she poked Mal excitedly. “Wake up!” Mal’s only reply was a muffled “Mrrrmm?” and a tightening of the arm currently resting across Polly’s waist. Polly, whilst accepting that it was a nice response, indicated with further pokes that it was not really the one she had been looking for. Whereupon Mal gave voice to an explanatory “mMMmm” and, snuggling further in to steal the last iota of warmth, set herself to recapturing sleep. “Mal, it’s snowing!” Mal, groaning, managed to open one eye despaired at the world in general and mornings in particular and closed it again. Reaching out without looking she captured the poking hand in order to prevent any further attacks on her person. “It snows every year around this time. You humans are weird.” Sitting up as best she could Polly tugged at the captured hand, wordlessly requesting freedom. But Mal was insistent that hands were for holding not poking and would not be moved. Giving up for the moment Polly instead brought the other hand to bear, nudging heartily in her attempts to get a positive response to her exciting news. “It’s the ‘First Snow’ Mal!” The capital letters waved their permission slip and slid into place. “It’s probably pitched and everything!” Her companion merely grunted, rejecting the morning as a whole and withdrew her arm from where it had slipped to rest comfortingly on Polly’s hip. Curling up against the chill air now invading their cosy nest she drew the blankets in around her and grumbled extensively about excitable short-lives. Polly, persistent to the last, continued to employ nudging as her main attack and Mal was forced to think up a way to distract her. “Why don’t you go somewhere that isn’t here and check whether it’s laying?” It worked. Polly bounced out of bed and racing to the window squealed in a tone of glee mingled with shock at the chilly air. “Yay! It’s pitching! C’mon Mal!” She turned to see Mal had drawn the blanket over her head and retreated down the bed to escape all the cheerfulness. The cold struck up through the floor and jumping from foot to foot as she struggled into her breeches Polly put aside a second to bless all circumstances that had given her practice at dressing quickly. Hurriedly she donned undershirt, shirt, jacket, and scrabbled around for socks, all the time babbling to Mal about how she and Paul used to run out into the first snowfall at home and how there had been snowmen and snow forts and the huge battle between the Duchess and the inferior pub at the other end of the village. Finally dressed, she bounced on the bed, astride the heap that was vampire. “C’mon Mal! Up you get! You’re awake now, you might as well.” Though she wished her roommate miles away Mal had to acknowledge there was truth in her statement. Even the most dogged seeker of sleep had to admit defeat in the face of a poinging Polly. Her sleep ruffled head emerged reluctantly from the depths of the covers. “You go play with your frozen precipitation. I shall go and get coffee, a civilised drink for civilised people. I may then come and watch your folly.” The pleading expression Polly had been deploying broke into a wide grin. Bounding forward excitedly she pressed a quick kiss on that sleepy face before bouncing off again and rushing out of the room like a whirlwind, slamming the door behind her. ~X~ Half an hour later Polly turned from the pitched battle going on in the yard behind the kitchens to see Mal lounging against the back door, teeny coffee cup in hand. She was watching the kerfuffle with a raised eyebrow of interest. Holding up a hand to halt the barrage Polly sidled over to get her opinion on the jollities. It wasn’t complimentary. “Do tell me, Polly, the purpose of this behaviour? You are acting like unto children. All of you.” She swayed a millimetre to the left as a snowball splattered into the door beside her head and added coolly, nose in the air, “Children with very bad aim.” Unfortunately the snowball-thrower overheard her remarks and declared he considered them fighting words. Mal protested at length but to no avail. Before long before the battle was underway again, Polly’s mixed group of ragamuffins attempting to storm the ground held with great determination by the remnants of the Night Watch. Why Polly should want to lay claim to a heap of empty boxes and some broken crockery Mal couldn’t understand, but apparently the enemy consisted of similarly insane people who found their little corner of the yard with the bins of rotting cabbages most desirable and worthy of repeated attacks. Polly had claimed command and was busy ordering people around with a lot of shouting and extreme gestures. However, tactically they were being outclassed by the boys of the Night Watch and their sneaky use of superior numbers and ability to throw straight. After a particularly vicious attack, Mal took Polly to one side as they were cowering beneath the delivery cart and expressed her doubts. “I hate to bring this to your attention at this busy time, Pol, but we’re losing.” “Well, if you won’t attack them properly…” Mal sighed as the snowballs thumped into the ground around them. “I am not going to leap on them screaming ‘DEATH FALLS FROM ABOVE!’ It wouldn’t be seemly.” “Oh go on. Just once. It would be fantastic.” “No!” Polly may have employed her best begging expression, but Mal was too busy monitoring the actions of the enemy to have noticed. “You are a cruel and ungrateful vampire.” Polly wiggled out backward, scooping up more ammunition as she went. “It wouldn’t surprise me if someone charged you with conduct unbecoming!” “Later Polly, later. They’re attacking again” and Mal whistled the alarm as the snow covered figures began to charge. One vicious bout of close hand-to-hand fighting later Polly, plastered in snow from head to foot, turned to her vampiric comrade-in-arms in confusion. She knew Mal had been fighting beside her, knew the girl had borne the forefront of some intensive volleys. And yet… “Tell me, Mal, why are you not even slightly snowy?” Mal smiled disdainfully, brushing some light specks of snow from her shoulders. “I am skilled at avoiding things.” She was going to go on and explain the concept of moving away from flying snow rather than inserting one's face into it as Polly seemed apt to do when she was tackled by the object of her discourse and flung into a snowdrift. Polly, taking advantage of her stunned surprise, quickly grabbed two handfuls of snow and introduced them to the neck of Mal’s collar. In the ensuing wrestling match Polly never quite knew how she managed to rub the vampires face in the snow. She was perched on her chest, laughing triumphantly when she noticed the look on Mal’s face. Desperately scrambling to her feet, slipping and sliding in the snow, she began to run. Mal flipped onto her feet and leapt into the air from a standing start, kicking off the cart before rebounding off the wall for extra height. Polly, stumbling across the yard looked back at the sound of rushing air to see a monster of clawed hands, protruding teeth and flying cape dropping on her at speed. Screaming in a decidedly un-military nature she tripped over her own feet and fell flat on her back, the breath completely knocked out of her. Mal arched over her, cloak billowing, teeth very much present and prompted by adrenaline fuelled instinct Polly’s shoulder blades attempted to dig their way into the cobblestones of the yard. Mal leant in closer, hovering over Polly’s exposed neck. Turning her head as though to get a better angle of attack she lunged in, stopping at the last minute to whisper “DEATH… from above,” before rolling away and gracefully climbing to her feet. Ever magnanimous in victory she held out a hand to the quivering wreck at her feet. ~X~ After this little display both sides unanimously decided that the battle was over and everyone trooped inside to warm up. The snow had melted into slush by lunchtime and Polly looking out of her window as a welcome distraction from the minutiae of military reports watched a private clearing paths through the chaos of their fighting arena. Shifting uncomfortably as she felt the bruise now developing on her hip she withdrew her attention from the world outside and concentrated it on her sergeant sitting decorously on the hearth stone as close to the fire as was physically possibly. Aware of her gaze, Mal looked up. “I’m not sorry, Pol.” She drew her knees up closer. “A vampire’s person is sacred. Snow should not be introduced to our nether garments.” The silence stretched on a little more than was necessary. “Anyway! You said yourself it would be fantastic, and it was!” Further silence. “Alright, alright.” Mal sighed grudgingly. “I’ll kiss it better later, ok?” |