(no subject)

"You mean, Miss Susan?" Angua said in surprise. "White hair with a black streak. Pale, thin, dresses in black. I see her in Biers sometimes. She's a teacher, I think. She drinks like one, anyway."

Vimes raised an eyebrow. "She goes to biers? You don't know why, do you?"

"For the alcohol, I assume." Angua sighed. "But you mean what. I don't know, exactly. Just that she terrifies the bogeymen."

~~~
"Your grace," Lord Rust said, bowing slightly.

"Miss Susan," she corrected him. "In this room, I am Miss Susan. Or Miss Sto Helit, if you'd prefer."

"Ah," Lord Rust said, temporarily thrown off track.

(no subject)

He tried to picture Aziraphale in a sexual situation. the image was awkward, to say the least, and only improved marginally when he took off the glasses and tweed. With some effort, he could imagine the angel politely lyingback and allowing the human to, well, have sex with him. Or flustered, but valiantly trying to help them with their task.

"Do you enjoy it?" He asked, giving up the image of the angel, mostly naked and asking the earnest young man if it helped if he knelt like this.

"Yes. It seems to put a damper on things if I don't," Aziraphale said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them. "I think they find it very hard to, to, throw themselves into it, as it were, if I'm not doing the same. And there's point doing things half-heartedly, after all."

"But surely you could just, well, fake it," Crowley said.

"You know how bad I am at lying," Aziraphale said. He put his glasses back on, and smiled.

(no subject)

When Harry Potter discovered girls and, shortly after, boys, the major news agencies of the wizardly world rubbed their hands (or paws, or claws, or in the case of Mr K'rak of the Star! magazine, tentacles) in anticipation of future page fillers. Any time there was a slow news day, they could waste a few pages with an interview with an ex. The more serious papers would, of course, write well-researched, although less creative, articles about the difficulty of making relationships in public life.

But, much to their disappointment, Mr H Potter was discrete to the point of disappearing. He was never caught kissing in a public place, or even a private one accessible by zoom lenses. When asked about the pretty young witch who caught his eye at the ball, he'd hide behind his glasses and say nothing that wasn't ambiguous.

And even in Hogwarts itself, it wasn't much better. Of course, everyone could make logical assumptions when Blaise, the pathologically ambiguous Slytherin was suddenly seen in the company of Mr Potter, or when the two disappeared for long periods of time, but Blaise said nothing definite, either.


Poll Drury, the Ravenclaw blushed when she said that yes, she and Harry were friends, and of course she liked him, who didn't? and never let a single detail pass her pretty, rose-bud lips.