Well, this is it. Thank you to all who have read and those who have reviewed. The songs in this chapter are 'Happy' and 'You can't always get what you want' and you know which band by now. I should point out now that I do not own The Mighty Boosh or associated characters, nor do I lay claim on The Rolling Stones, or the story of Cinderella. This was just a labour of love and frustration. Ta. xx

It was, many said, the wedding of the year. Others claimed it was the event of the century and, while there were very few really top notch events to compete with it, the wedding was indeed an affair to behold.

They had waited a full three months, despite the moaning of the king, before tying the knot, because Howard insisted that he didn't want to rush into anything, especially an event that needed such thorough planning. He made lists, ran rehearsals, re-wrote lists, pretended he wasn't stressed whenever Vince asked, and even tried to consult his fiance on what music would be meaningful but not cause the less jazz-aware guests to break out in a rash.

"Pick what you like, Howard," Vince had beamed. "It's your wedding."

"It's our wedding," Howard had corrected him, fidgeting nervously in the face of Vince's smile. "And what if I-"

"It'll be fine, Howard, honestly," Vince interrupted. "As long as there's a nice love song to make me feel all sentimental and make the ladies cry, I'll be happy."

Howard had departed in deep thought and hadn't seen the loving look Vince wore as his eyes followed him out of the room.

Despite his usually impatient temperament Vince was happy to wait, and not just because he wanted everything to be just right. There was a niggling inside of him that kept whispering that Howard couldn't possibly love him, not as he was, and it wouldn't go away. Even when they were laughing and making up silly songs together. Even when they were kissing and Howard moaned into his mouth and whispered that he loved Vince more than anything. Even when they were snuggled up on one of the library's ridiculously comfortable love seats with a blanket over their knees, a fresh pot of tea and Howard was reading him a bedtime story. The feeling that he just wasn't good enough to marry a prince just wouldn't quit.

So he told everyone that he needed to wait until his injuries were healed, and his step-sisters moved into an appropriate cottage where they could be looked after and kept under watchful eye, and the chateau emptied, cleaned and sold, and the animals brought to the palace, and so the procrastination went on. Howard wasn't the only one adept in list making.

Until suddenly the wedding was planned, Vince's outfit was ready, his body was in complete physical health and there was nothing else to do but get married. Howard had been naught but loving every day for the last three months, and Vince didn't doubt that the man was both the love of his life and his best friend, but the horrible feeling was still there.

He looked down at his suit. Howard had gone on and on about how everyone needed to wear their best dress suits to the wedding and Vince hadn't had any idea what that meant. He'd been too scared to ask Howard and show just how ignorant he was and way too scared to ask the king, 'cos he was kind of shouty, so he'd asked one of the few members of staff who he actually knew by name.

"Your dress suit's the suit that's got the shiny round things on it, you know?" Bob Fossil had told him earnestly. "It shows your rank so everyone knows how important you are."

It had seemed obvious at the time but now Vince was starting to have second thoughts. Especially now that he was standing just outside the main throne room (where the wedding was to take place in a matter of minutes) and Bob Fossil was standing next to him in his regular pale blue uniform with a bottle cap hanging from the shirt pocket by a piece of dental floss. He looked down at the sequined bodysuit, even more beautiful and elaborate than the original, with it's multicoloured train-come-cape and the brand new white, rhinestone covered boots. When he'd put it on up in his room he'd thought he looked genius, now he worried that he just looked like a tit. Maybe he still had time to sneak up to his room and change?

At which point the doors swung open, the left hitting Fossil hard in the forehead so that he pinwheeled before falling to the ground dramatically. Vince didn't notice though, he was too busy looking at the rows and rows of royals and the social elite from every kingdom in the land, standing and watching him. And all dressed in what appeared to be plain, military suits. With medals. Vince wanted to kick himself. Fossil hadn't meant sequins. The shiny round things had been medals. Vince took a deep breath through his nose to stop the panic as it rose up his throat, and began the long walk down the aisle to the front of the throne room.

Not everyone was in military dress, he noted, as he stepped onto the red carpet. Some of the women were in demure dresses and some of the men were in dinner suits of muted colour, but no one was dressed in sequins. He took another step and jumped as a guitar began to play. It seemed vaguely familiar and, as he gazed up to the gallery, Vince saw that Howard had hired the same band that had played at the ball. The frontman leaned on the railing and grinned at him, his full lips parting in a smile that seemed eternally mischievous and gave Vince a knowing wink. Vince smiled back and turned to look out at the throne room once more.

"Well I never kept a dollar past sunset,

It was always burned a hole in my pants.

Never made a school mama happy,

Never blew a second chance, oh no.

I need a love to keep me happy,

I need a love to keep me happy.

Baby, baby keep me happy.

Baby, baby keep me happy."

It took him a moment to see him but once he did, Vince's eyes were fixed on Howard's. The taller man's uniform was a little rumpled but Vince knew it wasn't from inattention but simply the way all clothing seemed to hang off Howard's frame and Vince smiled when he realised that the suit, which should have been green according to Howard's royal position in the kingdom, was actually a very deep blue. Howard didn't wear blue often but the colour suited him, Vince thought. It made him seem less jumpy and tense. Howard had scoffed at the notion until Vince had said, in passing, that it also made him look slimmer.

Howard was standing as still as he could, his face serious and a little panicked but the closer Vince got the calmer Howard seemed to get.

"Always took candy from strangers,

Didn't wanna get me no trade.

Never want to be like papa,

Working for the boss ev'ry night and day.

I need a love to keep me happy,

I need a love to me happy.

Baby, won't ya keep me happy.

Baby, please keep me.

Never got a flash out of cocktails,

When I got some flesh off the bone.

Never got a lift out of Lear jets,

When I can fly way back home.

I need a love to keep me happy,

I need a love to keep me happy.

Baby, baby keep me happy.

Baby, baby keep me happy.

Happy, baby won't you keep me

Happy, baby won't you keep me

Happy, baby won't you keep me

Happy, baby won't you keep me

Happy, baby won't you keep me

Happy, baby won't you keep me

Happy, baby won't you keep me."

The song ended just as Vince reached the very front of the room and he could see the tears and worry in Howard's small eyes.

"Did you like the song," Howard whispered as they turned to stand across from one another. "Did it make you happy?"

Vince didn't think it was possible to smile any wider than he already was, but Howard's words made him want to amp it up at least another ten watts.

"You..." he let out a sigh that was almost a laugh. "Howard, you have the most literal mind, it's mental." Howard's eyes started to widen so he hurried to finish. "I loved it. It was perfect. You're perfect."

"I think you'll find that's my line, sir," Howard answered. "You look beautiful."

Vince blushed and looked down at his sequined wedding suit.

"You said wear a suit and I got it wrong," he whispered, but Howard leaned over and kissed his cheek softly.

"How can Vince Noir be wrong when it comes to being the beau of the ball? You look amazing. And I love you."

Vince had felt a bit dizzy after that and honestly hadn't heard much of what was said during the ceremony. Bainbridge had talked at length about how proud he was of them both, Vince'd pledged himself to Howard and Howard had made the same promises to him, and the band had played softly as people came forward to give their official congratulations. He couldn't remember any of the words said, even the ones that'd come out of his own mouth, but he knew that the feel of Howard's palm - lined and calloused and warm - against his own would stay with him forever. And, when the king declared them Prince and Prince-Consort, and Howard had leant in and kissed him with aching tenderness, Vince knew that that too was a feeling he would never forget.

Then there'd been food and music and dancing and laughing and kissing and all the things that can't be planned for but that a wedding is supposed to have. And hours passed until the guests began to make their quiet farewells and the footmen and maids began to tidy away the fallen streamers and empty champagne glasses. Vince and Howard barely noticed though, they were still dancing, because the band was still playing.

It wasn't the energetic hip swaying and bottom wiggling of earlier in the evening, when Vince had shown off his moves and everyone had decided he was the best possible Prince-Consort the kingdom could dream of having. This dancing was the slow sway of two people leaning against one another, arms tangled and feet shuffling in a tired, yet content way.

Vince pressed his ear to Howard's chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart, and realised that the achy feeling in his own heart had vanished. Howard loved him, he had been accepted by the royal court and by the king, he had a home where he was cared for and respected, his animal friends were safe and well fed and he was on his way to his very own happily ever after.

He heard, and felt, Howard give a relaxed sigh and snuggled closer against him.

"You alright there, Little Man?" he felt the voice rumble and nodded in reply. "Ready to call it a night?"

"Just one more dance?" Vince asked him, grinning sleepily, and it was Howard's turn to nod.

"I saw her today at the reception

A glass of wine in her hand

I knew she would meet her connection.

At her feet was a footloose man.

You can't always get what you want

No, you can't always get what you want

You can't always get what you want

But if you try sometimes you find

You get what you need.

I saw her today at the reception

In her glass was a bleeding man

She was practiced at the art of deception

Well I could tell by her blood-stained hands.

You can't always get what you want

You can't always get what you want

No, you can't always get what you want

But if you try sometimes you find

You just might find,

You get what you need."

Eh...

when you are the clock

there are some hours when you are...

I get lonely,

You get lonely and

and no one is around

for saying hello.

Like in the night times.

But then sometimes you get to see things

That no body else gets to see,

like mice having a party on the roof of a palace

and The Rolling Stones,

Mick Jagger from The Rolling Stones!

playing a private show to Vince and Howard,

in a fairy tale.

Imagine that, Mick Jagger in a fairy tale.

I'm da clock,

I'm gonna get his autograph after.

The End.