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Drumknott was polite. That was something Angua had always appreciated about him. He didn't comment on her pacing, or the way she had requested an appointment with the Patrician at the very last available time of day, or even the way her eyes often wandered when she was forced to join Vimes in reporting to his lordship.
Angua knew he noticed. He worked for Lord Vetinari, he was going to notice. But he never commented on it. When he waved her in before leaving for the day, his ‘good evening, sergeant’ sounded somewhere near a ‘good luck’.
Lord Vetinari looked up at her, curious. “Sergeant Von Uberwald.”
“Lord Vetinari.” Angua narrowed her eyes, she didn't want to play this game. “Havelock.”
Havelock went still in his chair, or stiller than usual, and raised an eyebrow. It wasn't quite intimidating, as she remembered the way he shoved his head sleepily into her hand, the unhappy noise when her fingers stopped moving against his scalp. She leaned forwards, hands settling on the desk.
“Can I help you in any way, Sergeant?” Havelock emphasised her title, tilting his head to the side. She stamped down on a growl, breathing hard and attempting to ignore the stress and pain and sleep deprivation that coated his pleasant scent like a clinging oil.
“Talk to me. Something. Gods above, anything but pretending it didn't happen.”
“It seemed prudent to pretend that it didn't happen, Sergeant-”
Angua couldn't fight it this time and growled. “Call me by my name, Havelock.”
Havelock drew back, in fact he seemed to draw in on himself before forcing himself into proper posture. “That wouldn't be- appropriate.”
She bared her teeth. Angua hadn't known, in Uberwald, that he was Ankh-Morporks Patrician, only that Lady Margolotta had said it was a pity he hadn't gone into a more physical line of work. Tailoring, for example.
It hadn't mattered to her, they were getting physical enough at the time.
And then she came to Ankh-Morpork and he ignored her. It stung Angua's pride, until she caught the scent of miserable desire when he looked at her and realised he was denying them both for nothing. For propriety. Whatever.
“It's just the two of us, how could that possibly be inappropriate?” Angua prodded. She'd waited long enough for him to say something, however this ended, she was putting them both out of their misery. “It’s my name.”
“As your superior-”
“Stop being so damn noble and just admit you feel it, too!” Angua lashed out, grabbing his hands and dragging him closer, forcing him to lean against the desk for balance.
Breathless, Havelock spoke. “As your superior, it would be inappropriate of me to initiate anything unprofessional. The balance of power is quite firmly in my favour.”
“... Just initiate, though?” Angua blinked, watching his face as a soft blush crept across his high cheekbones. The anger seemed far away already. “I called you Havelock and asked you to use my name, that counts as me initiating?”
“I- Yes, I suppose it does. If that is what you want, I will of course oblige. There are certain considerations of our positions, there's no guarantee that I couldn’t, purposefully or not, pressure you into something you didn't truly want.”
She let him sit back in his chair. They stared at each other.
“I've got a way to guarantee that.” Angua said eventually, tapping the desk in thought.
“... Oh?” Havelock tilted his head again, which did nothing but strengthen Angua's urge to get her hands in his hair again. “You have a way to guarantee I not take advantage of not only our sizable age gap, but my position of power over you?”
“Yeah.” She smiled… Well, wolfishly, at his dry tone. “Just let me be in charge when we're off duty. I can take advantage of you instead.”
He covered the lower half of his face with the back of his hand, that faint blush turning somewhat vivid. Leaning back in his chair, Havelock avoided her gaze, instead looking at the clock. It was late, past office hours certainly. “I am never off duty, Angua.”
Angua waved a hand. “You're out of office, and I’m off duty. Good enough?”
Havelock hummed in tentative agreement, turning back to face her. His eyes went wide when her armour was dumped in the chair behind her, and wider still when she practically vaulted the desk in order to kiss him. It was soft, despite the urgency.
Havelock pulled away. “Now?”
“You're out of office, my shift ended two hours ago.” Angua finally got a hand in his hair, something like a contented purr rumbling in her chest as she tightened her grip on the soft strands. “Show me the secret passage to your room and it can be now.”
“My bed isn't big enough for-”
“Neither was the carriage.” Angua watched with no small amount of pleasure as he closed his mouth immediately. A moment later and he was opening part of the wall, leading her through the passages, and letting her finally get him back to that sweet sleepy state she had him in after their first meeting in Uberwald.