Clarification of Regulations

Summary: A lazy summer afternoon with a bored vampire leads to a new insight into Military protocols. (Polly/Mal, Femslash warning. Relax I don't write flesh - I'm British.)

Disclaimer: Terry Pratchett owns the characters and the world they live on. I am grateful for all the brilliant books and make no claims of ownership in any way.


"This is a damn silly way to spend an afternoon off." Mal turned away from the clash of mallets and thunder of horses and scowled at her Captain.

Polly was miles away, arms folded under her chin on the chest high rail and chewing dreamily on the grass seed dangling from her lip. Mal nudged her gently.

"I said: this is a daft way to spend an afternoon off."

"Hmm?" Polly shifted the grass seed from one side of her mouth to the other and lazily watched a captain gallop past at full tilt, halloo-ing after the ball. However, Mal had reached the limit of her admittedly short attention span and nudged again. Polly sighed, and giving up on her quest for peace, returned to the present.

"Give it up Mal. I think it's nice to see the Ruperts getting exercise for once. They get so bored and tetchy if kept indoors for too long."

"Hmph." Mal once again proved that no-one could look more disdainful than a vampire on her day. "I for one could think of 100 better things to be doing"

"Oh really?" Polly's raised eyebrow spoke volumes and Mal realised suddenly that though they had chosen this hidden spot for the shade from the strong afternoon sun, it had other benefits as yet untested.

They were up to 24 when they were abruptly interrupted.

"Here! I Say! You There! Stop That This Minute!"

Mal's dancing eyes met Polly's shocked gaze for a moment and then slid up further to the trooper astride a horse that impossibly was even more chinless than him. Holding back the wicked grin bubbling up from the depths she enquired with all seriousness as to the nature of the problem.

"You Can't Do That Here. It's Against Regulations!"

Determinedly ignoring Polly's muffled snorts of laughter; Mal produced her most supercilious expression and emphasising her lieutenant's bar and stripes, took control of the situation.

"I think you'll find Sergeant, that according to Section 8, subsection C paragraph 2b it is in fact positively recommended."

"Er. Yes Sir!" The trooper saluted. "But, erm. sir? "He swallowed, uncomfortably. "Could you, er… could you do it elsewhere? You're scaring the horses."

Mal nodded pompously in her best Rupert imitation and having discretely kicked Polly out of the giggles, escorted her away at a decorous sedate pace.

Later, when they were lying relaxed and sated in the disorderly sheets of the inns second best guest room, Polly lifted her head to ask: "what does it actually say?"

"What does what say?" Mal murmured, continuing to caress the white shoulder under her hand.

"The regulation. Section 8, subsection thingamy."

"Oh that." Mal grinned into the golden hair. "It says that An Officer of the Army, Shall Give, When Occasion Demands, Succour to a Lady in Distress, Such as She Desires".

Polly thought for a second.

"Succour eh?"

Mal nodded, resting her cheek against the head on her shoulder

"As the Occasion Demands?"

"Indeed"

"And Such as She Desires?"

Polly rolled over and propped up her head in order to grin deliciously at her companion.

"Remind me, Lieutenant, to make a note of your Attention to Duty. You are certainly…" The pause was accompanied by a beautiful giggle, "…inventive, in your methods!"