The showers in the Watch House were the talk of the city. Vimes had paid for them himself, after Vetinari made an acidic comment about the cost. They were a bit primitive and were really no more than watering-can heads connected to a couple of water tanks on the next floor, but after a night in Ankh-Morpork's underworld the thought of being really clean was very attractive. Even so, Angua hesitated.

`This is wonderful,' said Sally, turning gently under a spray. `What's wrong?'

`Look, I'm dealing with it, all right?' snapped Angua, standing just beyond the shower. `It's full moon, okay? The wolf is a bit strong.'

Sally stopped scrubbing. `Oh, I see,' she said. `Is it the whole B.A.T.H. thing?'

`You just had to say that, didn't you?' said Angua, and forced herself to step on to the tiles.

`Well, what do you do normally?' said Sally, handing her the soap.

`Cold water, and pretend it's rain. Don't you dare laugh! Change of subject, right now!'

`All right. What did you think of Nobby's girlfriend?' said Sally. `Tawneee? Friendly. Good-looking. .

`Try perfect physical beauty? Astonishing proportions? A walking classic?'

`Well ... yes. Pretty much,' Angua conceded. `And all that is Nobby Nobbs's girlfriend?'

`She seems to think so.'

`You're not telling me she deserves Nobby?' said Sally.

`Look, Verity Pushpram doesn't deserve Nobby, and she's got a weird squint, arms like a stevedore and cooks shellfish for a living,' said Angua. `That's how things are.'

`Is she his old girlfriend?'

`He used to say so. As far as I know, the physical side of the relationship consists of her hitting him with a wet fish whenever he goes near her.'

Angua squeezed the last of the slime out of her hair. It was tough stuff to lose. As it was, some of it was fighting not to go down the plughole.

That was enough. She didn't like to spend too much time in the S.H.O.W.E.R. Another six or so sessions and the smell would have quite gone away. The important thing now was to remember to use a towel and not to shake herself dry.

`You think I went down there to impress Captain Carrot, don't you?' said Sally, behind her.

Angua stopped, her head wrapped in towelling. Oh well, it was going to happen sooner or later ...

`No,' she said.

`Your heartbeat says otherwise,' Sally said meekly. `Don't worry. I wouldn't have a chance. His heart beats faster every time he looks at you, and yours skips a beat every time you see him.'

Okay, then, this is it, said the wolf who was never far away, this is where we sort it out, claw against fang ... No! Don't listen to the wolf! But it would help, wouldn't it, if this stupid bitch stopped listening to the bat ...

`Stay out of people's hearts,' she growled.

`I can't. You can't switch off your nose, can you? Can you?'

The moment of the wolf had passed. Angua relaxed a little. His heart beat faster, did it?

'No' 'she said, `I can't.'

`Has he ever seen you without your uniform?'

Ye gods, thought Angua, and headed for her clothes.

`Well ... of course...' she mumbled.

`I meant wearing something else. Like - a dress?' Sally went on. `Come on. Every copper spends some time out of uniform. That's how you know you're off duty.'

`But it's pretty much a 24/8 job for us,' said Angua. `There's always-'

`You mean it is for him because he likes it that way, and so you go along with it?' said the vampire, and that one got through all Angua's defences.

`It's my life! Why should I listen to advice from a vampire?' `Because you're a werewolf,' said Sally. `Only a vampire would dare to give it, right? You don't have to be at his heel all the time.' `Look, I've been through all this, understand? It's a werewolf thing. We are what we are!'

`I'm not. You don't get the black ribbon just for signing the pledge, you know. And it doesn't mean you stop craving blood. You just don't do anything about it. At least you can go out at night and chase chickens.'

There was a stony silence. Then Angua said, `You know about the chickens?'

`Yes:

`I pay for them, you know.'

`I'm sure you do.'

`And it's not as though it's every night.'

`I'm sure it isn't. Look, do you know there are people out there who will volunteer to be a vampire's ... dinner companion? Providing it's all done with style? And we are considered weird?' She sniffed. `By the way, what did you wash your hair in?'

'Willard Brothers "Good Girl!" Flea Shampoo,' said Angua. `It brings up the gloss,' she added defensively. `Look, I want to get this clear, right? Just because we spent hours wading around under the city, and, okay, maybe saved each other's life once or twice, it does not mean we're friends, okay? We just happened to ... be there at the same time!'

`You do need some time off,' said Sally. `I was going to buy a drink for Tawneee anyway, to say thanks, and Cheery wants to tag along. How about it? We've been stood down for now. Time out for a little fun?'

Angua struggled with a seething snake's nest of emotions. Tawneee had been very kind, and far more helpful than you might expect from someone wearing six inches of heel and four square inches of clothing.

`Come on, 'said Sally encouragingly. `I don't know about you, but it's going to take a bit of effort to get the taste of that mud out of my mouth.'

`Oh, all right! But this doesn't mean we're bonding!'

`Fine. Fine.'

`I'm not a bondage kind of person,' added Angua.

`Yes, yes,' said Sally. `I can see that.'

Vimes sat and stared at his notebook. He'd got `talking cube' written down and circled.

Out of the corner of his ear he could hear the sounds of the City Watch rising from below: the bustle in the yard of the old lemonade factory, where the Specials were assembling again, just in case, the rattle of the hurry-up wagon, the general murmur of voices coming up through the floor ...

After some thinking, he wrote `old well' and circled that, too.

He'd scrumped plums in the gardens of Empirical Crescent with all the other kids. Half the houses were empty and no one cared much. Yes, there had been a well, but it had long been full up with garbage, even then. Grass was growing on the top. They only found the bricks because they looked for them.

So let's say that anything buried right at the bottom, where the dwarfs had headed, had been dumped, oh, more than fifty, sixty years ago ...

You seldom saw a dwarf in Ankh-Morpork even forty years ago, and they weren't anything like rich or powerful enough to own a cube. They were hard workers, seeking - just possibly - a better life. So what human would throw away a talking box worth a mountain of gold? He'd have to be bloody mad

Vimes sat rigidly staring at the scrawls on the page. In the distance, Detritus was barking a command at someone.

He felt like a man crossing a river on stepping stones. He was nearly halfway across, but the next stone was just a bit too far and could only be reached with serious groinal stress. Nevertheless, his foot was waving in the air and it was that or a ducking ...

He wrote: `Rascal. Then he circled the word several times, the pencil biting into the cheap paper.

Rascal must have been to Koom Valley. Let's say he found a cube there, who knows how. Just lying there? Anyway, he brings it home. He paints his picture and goes mad, but somewhere along the line the cube starts talking to him.

Vimes wrote `SPECIAL WORD?' He drew a circle round it so hard that his pencil broke.

Maybe he can't find the word for `stop talking'? Anyway, he chucks it down a well ...

He tried to write `Did Rascal ever live in Empirical Crescent?; and then gave up and tried to remember it.