Hello! Here's another little attempt at ficage from me which I was a bit weary on as the Origin was a bit of a fail but that's on hold for a while now. Instead I'm gonna be concentrating on this which I'm quite proud of with just this first part and the ideas I've got planned. This is kind of a sequel to the one-parter I did 'Here Is Gone' but you don't need to read that to understand this. Basically it's set a month after Party and...well, you can work out the rest by reading it :P

Disclaimer: Are these things really necessary? I DO NOT OWN VINCE OR HOWARD OR ANYTHING ELSE IN THE BOOSHIVERSE. Everything belongs to my beautiful obsessions known as Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding. I am just a fan, hence this being fanfiction - get it?

1. "Nathan"

"Look, mate, I'm not interested in your wife. We were just standing in a cupboard together."

"Just 'in the cupboard' with an extreme sports model - I don't think so!"

"Honestly! I'm not interested in your wife. I'm in love with someone already."

"The lies of a back-tracking worm!"

"I'm in love with Howard…"

Vince moved onto his side, dragging a fistful of duvet cover along with him. His eyes were sealed closed. His skinny body was curled up in a ball beneath the covers, with his knees drawn up to his chest. It was an unusual way for Vince to sleep. The King of the Mods usually liked to stretch himself out on his back, in the image of a relaxing Greek god (or goddess), fully contended even in his slumber. Nowadays, however, he was far from being content, even when asleep. Especially when asleep.

Though in reality his head lay swathed in a ray of sunlight streaming in from the bedroom window and onto his pillow, in Vince's mind he was sat on the roof of his apartment in the silver glow of the heavy full moon above him, with his best friend sitting to his right and in front of him a psychotic shaman with a sword in his hand - and murder in his eyes. Vince was petrified. The wrong word and he was about to be gutted like a fish at any second. His only hope of salvation was the depressed birthday boy beside him.

"Oh yeah…We're in love."

The shaman scoffs, unconvinced. "Prove it!"

Vince doesn't even take a second to think. Not that that's much of a difference to normal. Though this would be something he'd regret not thinking through before rushing in where the rest of the population would fear to tread. He's looking at Howard, whose grumpy frown is fixed out onto the rooftops of Dalston, miffed at having to pretend to be gay in order to save his idiot mate's life. If it wasn't bad enough the guy had to be outed as a 40 year old virgin at his own birthday party. Vince feels a pang of guilt at the pain he'd partly been responsible for causing.

'Well', thinks Vince, 'maybe this will cheer him up as well as save my life in the process'. Vince's hands shoot out to grab Howard's face and pull it to his. He presses Howard's lips to his. His mind prays to Howard's thoughts, in the faith of some telepathic link between them, that he just goes along with it for the sake of saving his life. Whether Howard hears him or not though, Vince realises it doesn't help much, as the guy's never kissed anyone before. Trying to lock tongues with his pal was just futile. So it was all down to Vince. His lips trailed sweet, delicate kisses around Howard's shocked mouth. His fingers caress his friend's cheek softly. Firstly to play up the act to the shaman, secondly to reassure Howard who was obviously taken by surprise and must have been embarrassed to death. At least that's what he thought at the time, when he felt Howard give a small tug at the flimsy sleeve of his dress. In the background he could hear the disgusted but confused groans of the Shaman watching. Vince wondered if that meant it was time to stop. Had that been enough to convince him? Maybe a bit longer…

'What? No, Vince, you jack o' clubs, what the fuck are you on about? This is bad enough already. Howard probably thinks you're a queer now for going long this much already. Get your lips off him.'

Almost done.

'No! NOW!'

Fine.

Eventually obeying his single brain cell, Vince prised himself off Howard and turned towards the Shaman.

"Huh?" he asks with his hands up. Surely that was enough.

The shaman doesn't even blink.

"…Gonna have to go away and re-think a few basic principles. BYE."

With that, the Shaman ducks back under the skylight and leaves the two friends on the roof, Vince waving him off casually as if nothing had happened. It was impossible for Vince Noir to hold a grudge. Well, it felt impossible for him to feel any sort of negativity in that moment. He laughs to himself as he turns towards Howard. Vince's face is almost at breaking point with the mega-watt grin stretched across it. Grinning not only with the relief of escaping death, but also for the heart-warming realisation that his best friend really would go that far to save his life, that made his heart bloom with gratitude.

"Haha…Thanks Howard." He smiles. Not a usual 'Vince Noir, Prince of Camden' that he'd shell out to any old fan or dollybird. A proper meaningful smile with his eyes glistening like sapphires.

And Howard is staring straight into them. Staring with a look on his face that starts to freak Vince out a bit. Howard isn't blinking. He isn't even doing his usual antagonistic frown. He's glowing. Since when did Howard Moon glow?

"Thank you…"

Vince reels his head back, "What d'you mean?"

"Thank you for the gift of love."

"It was just a kiss!" Vince implores.

"Oh no a light went on in my head then. You have flicked my switch, baby!"

Vince shakes his head. As always he can see straight through Howard. It was pretty much his job to see through the big Jazz-obsessed idiot whenever he went off on some irrational emotional-spurned craze. Normally it was just Vince having to calm his pomposity as it was the usual thing that got either Howard or both of them in trouble. Now, however, it was something much worse. The maverick actually thought he was in love with him. That the kiss had actually meant something. Sure, it had been nice…considering it was Howard's first. But it didn't matter how 'nice' or strangely comfortable it was. Vince knew this was just another one of Howard's 'trips'. So it was his mission, as always, as his best friend to bring him back down to earth before it went to far.

"Look, Howard, you've gotta stop falling for people when they give you the slightest bit of affection."

"Don't pretend you don't love me!"

"LOVE?"

"Oh yes!"

"Howard, you've gone mad…" Vince sighs. This is going to be more difficult then he thought.

"That's what this has all been about!"

"No, it isn't."

"Me and you!"

"What d'you mean 'me and you'?"

"The arguing, the bickering - it's all because of the sexual tension; the deep, molten, sexual tension that's been brewing up between us!" Howard rants, more passionate about anything Vince had ever seen him go on about. Even jazz. What the fuck was happening?

"I don't think so…" Vince laughs.

It's funny after all. The absolute rubbish that's spouting from his older friend's mouth. They didn't argue and bicker because of 'sexual tension'. They argued and bickered because Howard was a tall, moustached, jazz geek and he hated Vince's electro taste, as well as his differing fashion and preference of how to spend a Friday night - or one's birthday. They didn't love each other. Surely they didn't even like each other much considering how much they faught. But then…why did they stay together? Vince shivers. Was it possible that…? Could Howard be right for once?

No way. No way was this happening. Vince hears his own heart beating rapidly. It just didn't seem possible that, after ten years of a warped but close friendship, they was turning into….This?!

Howard is now grinning like a besotted school boy. He grips the chimney with one hand and begins to climb to his feet on the steep roof.

"You've shown me the way!" His ecstatic voice reaches just above a whisper.

Vince sees his friend's balance quiver just a bit and his disillusionment transforms to panic. He reaches out to try and steady his friend before he slips on the thin ruler of surface at the peak of the rooftop.

"You're gonna fall, Howard!"

Howard takes no notice, "You've given me the keys!"

"The keys to what?"

"The keys to a whole new kingdom. A whole new kingdom of gaydom!" Howard balanced himself with one hand on the chimney to his left, whilst he sang out his next words for all of London to hear, his left arm flailing about to the sky. "I'M A GAY! I'M A MASSIVE GAYIST! WHOO!"

Back on his bed, his eyes still shut tight, Vince let out a laugh in his sleep. He nuzzled his head deeper into his pillow, strands of jet black hair draping over his face, his neck also smothered beneath the duvet.

Vince stares up, open-mouthed, at his friend outing himself proudly to the whole of London. In a way it did make a lot of sense for Howard to be gay. That his whole proclaiming himself a Casanova, even though his attempts to flirt were barely laughable, was just his insecurities hiding the truth. He wasn't like Vince of course. He didn't have the confidence to just be himself. But wait…wasn't that the whole point of what was happening? There was Howard, standing above him, singing out who he was for everyone to hear - it was a wonder the Moon didn't turn around to make some inane commentary on the event - and Vince was the one just sitting there with his denials.

Denials? What denials? It was all the truth. Howard was just mad. The kiss had been nothing more than a get-out-of-decapitation-free card cleverly played. Now Howard was overplaying it. Even though it had been Vince who'd dragged it out longer than the Shaman needed, or wanted, to see. Oh God…this was all his fault. Now look at what he'd done.

He was looking up at Howard. A silver aura of moonlight enveloped him. It was then that, suddenly, a gasp became lost somewhere out of Vince's throat - and tears pricked in his eyes. His friend really did look, there was no other word for it, breathtaking. Even in his hideous outfit, it didn't seem to take anything away from the magnificence of his person. His strong arms. His legs - they really were worth their credit, his Northern pins. Vince's eyes fixed up on Howard's profile. The loose curls of his fine hair. The twinkle of his zealous brown eyes. And suddenly they turned themselves down on the electro boy. Vince didn't think it was possible for Howard's smile to go any wider and yet it did. The smile with the lips just moments ago he'd been pecking and sucking gently on. Lips that looked so full and edible. It was a wonder that Vince wasn't drooling.

Howard moved his hands up to grab Vince's face the way the mod had done to him before.

"Pucker up!"

And Vince does. He doesn't stop to understand why. All he understands is that his tall, handsome and infatuated friend is coming down towards him. He's going in for another kiss. A real kiss this time. No games. No lies. The heat sizzling in the night air is as real as the flames burning in Howard's eyes. And Vince can feel it all. He understands what Howard was getting at. All the strange buzzes whenever they playfully touched one another… All the confusing twinges when they'd share in a laughter together… All the unusual warm tension whenever he and Howard were alone together - it all suddenly made sense. The reason he'd come up onto this roof in the first place. After all he had hundreds of 'friends' in the flat below that could've helped him to hide. But he hadn't wanted them. He'd wanted Howard. Like a lost and frightened child searching for his parents. He'd wanted Howard to be the one to protect him. And of all the ways Vince had come up with for Howard to help him…he'd come up with THAT one. There had to be only one reason for it.

He feels Howard's hands grip the sides of his face. His hands fly up to meet them, absorbing the warmth of his touch, ready to hold them there for eternity. He tilts up his chin for his lips to meet Howard's as the older man bends down further to Vince's level. Half a second they spend just basking in the glow of each other's faces. Howard's deep chocolate brown eyes drinking in Vince's sparkling blues, and vice versa. Then comes the slip. Howard's ankle jolts to the side. His balance has left him. Vince feels his weight begin to drag him sideways. The electro boy and the jazz maverick both let out a cry as they begin to tumble off the roof and through the air.

Vince's hands grip Howard tight. The wind rustles up his dress as gravity takes the opposite route and pulls them down the ground. He can hear the beat of his friend's heart mirroring his own in the fear that enraptures them both as they plummet towards their death. But…wait a minute…? Vince's eyes open wide. He remembers the special present he got Howard for his birthday. If it's arrived and been placed in the proper place then they had nothing to fear. He turned his head - this fall seemed to be going for miles - and looked down at the hard concrete coming to meet his face.

Where the hell was the bouncy castle?

The bouncy castle was supposed to save them! WHERE WAS IT?

Fear returned, sharp as a dagger. They were going to fall onto solid concrete and break every bone in their bodies. Vince looked back to the man falling with him. He felt his heart stop as he realised that there wasn't anyone falling with him. The only thing gripped in his fists were the thin material of his own sleeves. Howard…Where was Howard? Vince continued to fall towards solid ground. He looked back up to the roof where him and his friend had been sitting before. Two figures had now taken their places. Vince squinted his eyes. He saw that Howard was still up on the roof. Only the person sitting next to him wasn't Vince - obviously, as Vince was slowly falling towards his death - and it wasn't even a bloke. Vince screamed for his friend's attention.

"HOWARD!"

The fiddler-on-the-roof didn't even hear him. He was too busy sucking faces with his partner beside the chimney. More so than he'd been doing with Vince. Even as the two reached further and further out Vince's line of vision, he could see Howard giving as much into the kiss as his friend - his girlfriend - was giving to him. And he was smiling. Vince's heart broke. His body finally hit the ground, and gasped aloud as he instead found himself falling - with an almighty splash - into a giant swimming pool, filled with icy water. His body creased and he opened his eyes-

Vince bolted up in his bed. The rush of sunlight hitting his eyes brought a few seconds of blindness. It didn't distract his other senses, however, from noticing that he was soaking wet. Blinking out the dazzling spots in his eyes, he turned his head to the side to be met with the large gorilla standing at his bedside - holding an empty bucket in his paws. Vince panted heavily, kicking the wet duvet off his legs and jumping to his feet. Drops continued to trickle off the edges of his fingers and nose to the carpet. His pyjama's clung tight to his small frame, though unknowingly to Vince, they had been that way before the bucket of water was thrown on him.

"Bollo, you knob-end, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Vince raged at his animal room-mate. "You shit-box! Don't ever do that to me again!"

The gorilla was taken aback slightly by the anger in his friend's eyes. Precious Vince was never really angry. Not at Bollo anyway. Even though Bollo knew Precious Vince was not a morning person, and loved his lie-ins, it was still a horrible experience to have Vince upset with him. What happened to his cheeky, care-free friend back at the zoo who'd always been one to enjoy games and pranks?

"Bollo under instructions to wake up Lazy Vince by any means necessary before lunchtime." grunted the ape.

"Who instructed you to?"

Stupid question, Noir.

"Harold tell Bollo to get Vince up and showered to work at Nabootique. So Bollo eat two banana's in one."

"Think you mean 'kill two birds with one stone.'" sighed Vince, rinsing out the edges of his pyjamas and ruffling his raven locks.

"Bollo no eat birds. Bollo on Apekins Diet." the gorilla watched the sulking human stomp towards the mirror and rub his face. "Bollo thought Vince would be pleased."

Vince huffed, gripping the roots of his hair, "Well do I look pleased, Bollo? Throwing a bucket of water on me does sod-all compared to a shower. It doesn't get my hair washed and prepared, does it? You might as well just prodded me awake like a normal mate. What a fucking stupid monkey!"

Grabbing a fresh towel from the radiator, Vince ran it roughly over his damp face. He moved towards his and Howard's en-suit bathroom - Naboo had had it magically installed after to many rows over the four flat mates sharing one bathroom - and opened the door. He dragged the towel with him into the bathroom. Behind him he could hear Bollo padding out of his & Howard's bedroom. Before he closed the door, he managed to catch the last of the ape's grunting;

"Vince no longer sunshine person. Vince sound like Harold."

Vince shut the door. He staggered back, the final words of Bollo's sentence slapping him in the face. If it hadn't been for the piece of wood now between them, he would've been tempted to run up and punch Bollo's head in. The hammy ape didn't have a clue what he was on about. Of course Vince was still a sunshine person. Sure he'd been a bit moody lately. He'd been more lazy than usual, strangely anti-social and a bit short-tempered the past month. But didn't he have every right to be, considering? He can't've been that bad though. Not as bad as…

Shaking his head, his strands of damp, jet black hair flailing around, Vince decided to take no notice of the furry DJ's words. He looked to the fish-shaped clock on the wall and saw it was half-eleven in the morning. Only fifteen minutes before his usual rousing time. Maybe he had been a little bit hard on Bollo. He'd only been following Howard's orders after all. Speaking of which, Vince realised with a start, he had to think of his excuse of the day for being late. It was pointless really, considering Howard obviously knew Vince was upstairs in bed, if he'd given Bollo those orders. Then again most of the wacky routines they did together was pointless. But it was one of the few last rituals they shared in together anymore. The Satsuma fights, the midnight crimping sessions, the Colobus the Crab marathons - they all seemed like faded dreams now. Vince bit the inside of his mouth. It was a pain distraction from the agonising knot in his stomach.

Stripping off his wet pyjamas, he stuffed them into the washing basket before turning on the shower. As the warm water pulsated out, Vince stepped in and let it cascade over his bony frame. With the water drenching his face in a much more pleasurable way than Bollo's alarm-clock techniques, he reached for the soap and began to scrub at his body whilst his lonely brain cell was put to work.

----x-----x-----x-----

Forty-five minutes later, Vince emerged from his bedroom; his skin cleansed and fresh with the smell of strawberries, make-up applied to his pointed face, his black mane neatly sorted and straightened, his body dressed in one of his many tight t-shirt, skinny jeans and cowboy hat outfits. He wasn't in the mood for his jumpsuit or mirror ball suit. He came out from his and Howard's bedroom to find the flat seemingly empty. He'd half expected, half hoped that one of the other guys - most likely Bollo, but hopefully Howard - had been around to make him breakfast. He was more than capable of making it himself but, this morning, with no one around to want him to eat, he didn't feel obliged to. So he passed the kitchen without a second glance, ignoring the pitiful whine of his stomach, and went down the stairs to the shop.

The first thing he heard was the ring of the shop till. Vince smiled without any real consent but just at knowing Howard would be the first person - the first human person - he saw today as usual. Especially after the torturous dream he'd had before being splashed as if he was the Wicked Witch of the East End. Not that he'd be able to talk to Howard about his dream though. His friend wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes again if Vince confessed to reliving the events of the previous month in his dreams. Instead Vince just prepared to give the excuse he'd come up with whilst in the shower. It was a real good one, and all! He was quite impressed with himself. Howard would be to. He might even be unable to hide his laughter this time like he tries to do at one of Vince's random word-jumbles. Vince hoped so. He'd missed making Howard laugh.

Bounding down the last couple of stairs, Vince turned towards the counter, hoping to see his friend at the till. His eyes widened.

"What d'you think you're doing?" asked Vince with a lame attempt at a firm intimidating tone.

The stranger standing behind the counter looked up at him. The kid opened his mouth in confusion, obviously not expecting anyone to disturb him, as his hand was deep in the open cash register. Vince glared at the boy; he was only a teenager, a college student presumably, with dark loose-fitting clothes and a mass of curly brown hair. A student who was stealing out of the shop. He was probably the least scary burglar Vince had ever laid eyes on - not that he'd seen a lot of burglars. He wasn't even making an attempt to run for it. Before he could, Vince bounded forward and jumped on the kid, pushing him to the ground behind the counter, before trying to move him onto his front. A wave of that familiar heroic invisibility took the electro boy again. The way it usually did if Howard had got himself in some almost laughable danger and needed Vince to help him out. It somehow made Vince feel able to take on the world to protect his friend. This was no different. He gripped the boy's curls and forced his head onto the ground. The boy let out a muffled yelp as his mouth was squished to the floor.

"Gerrof me! Gerrof me!" The kid writhed underneath Vince who was now sitting on him.

"Shut it! No one tries to steal from Vince Noir's shop - Got it?!"

Wafer-thin weak as he was, Vince was still somehow able to restrain the kid beneath his decade-older self. He looked around for a weapon to help him out in case the boy took him by surprise and attempted to escape before someone could appear to help him. Scanning the back of the counter, Vince found the closest possible thing to a gun and grabbed it, pressing it to the student's head. Even though he couldn't see around, the kid obviously got the sense that something was being pointed at him and stopped wriggling about. He deepened his breathing, scared and out of his depth. Vince felt a pang of sympathy - he was just a boy after all - but didn't give in to it.

"What d'you think you're playing at?" asked Vince forcefully.

The boy dared to pull his lips up from the floor, "Look…mate…You've got it wrong!" The kid tried to reason in a strong Irish accent. "I ain't a robber…"

"Then what are you doing behind the counter? And what've you done with Howard?"

"H-Howard…he-"

"What's going on?! Vince! Get off of him!"

The jazzy Northerners voice came a gift from heaven. Vince looked up, still keeping pressure on holding his captive as well as his weapon pointed, to see Howard having emerged from the store room cupboard. He was glaring at Vince without a hint of gratitude for the citizens arrest his co-worker was performing. He put the items he'd taken from the store room to one side and went up to where his electro friend was sitting on the quiet teenager's body.

"I caught this kid trying to rob us, Howard! He had his hands in the till." Vince looked up at him, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of pride at his capture but also pleading for some praise. "Get Naboo, Howard! He'll make him regret messing with us, ey-"

Howard stifled a spontaneous giggle.

"Relax! He's not a burglar."

Vince frowned, "He's not?" He looked down at his suspect, "You're not?"

The teenager shook his head. "Sorry mate."

"Oh." Vince looked slightly forlorn.

The rush of bravery quietly slinked away.

"You can put down the pricing gun now, Vince." said Howard with his arms folded.

"Right." replied the embarrassed mod. He put the harmless pricing gun back in it's spot underneath the counter and stood up to release the kid from the ground. Both of them got to their feet, with Vince hanging his head slightly whilst the other boy brushed himself off - otherwise looking as if nothing had just happened.

His little moment of amusement over, Howard realised it was time. "Vince, this is Nathan Byrnes. Nathan - Vince Noir."

After smoothing down his crumpled shirt, Nathan turned to hold out his hand to Vince. "Alright Vince? Nice to meet you."

The boy was smiling at Vince as if having forgotten being shoved onto the ground and accused of being a robber.

"Yeah, you too…" Vince hesitated, "Uh…sorry for that little…We get quite a lot of freaky people trying to rob us or murder us is all. Rarely ever other humans though."

Nathan just shook his head. "Completely understand. Uh, I think…"

Vince then became aware that he was still shaking Nathan's hand. He was about to pull away abruptly before noticing one of the genius looking ring on the kids right hand. It was a slightly gothic silver band holding a bright glistening green stone deeper than the finest emerald. The one ring made the few feeble pieces of tat on Vince's hands cringe in shame. He did manage to let go of Nathan's hand though.

"Cool ring! Didn't get it at Camden, did you?" asked Vince excitedly.

Nathan regarded the ring, "Nah. It's just a family heirloom thing my dad gave me for my eighteenth birthday. Mum got me a car - you can tell which parent I favour."

Of course Vince didn't understand the gist of what Nathan was getting at; with him valuing accessories and clothing above cars - which he didn't know to drive - any day.

"There you go, Vince, you're gonna enjoy working with Nathan as you get to stare mindlessly at his hand all day." commented Howard who was closing the till. "Will give the mirror a rest for a while."

Vince's head shot to him, "Working with?"

"Yeah, Naboo said I could hire someone to help me out while he's out on that Shaman Health-and-Safety course in Manchester."

"What d'you need to hire someone for?"

Howard blinked at him, "To…do…work." He said as if explaining why the sky is blue to a five year old.

"But you've got me. You don't need him, he doesn't know the system - no offence." Vince finished, with turning to the bashful Nathan.

"None taken."

"What are you on about, Vince?" asked Howard sternly. "What 'system'?"

"Our system! Mine and yours." Vince pressed.

"Oh. You mean the system where I get up early, go to the bank to get the takings, come back and open shop then continue single-handily until you wake up and come join me here at lunchtime. After which you spend the next five hours sitting in your chair reading NME or Dazed & Confused, graciously letting me to do all the work, before going upstairs and leaving me to close up whilst you get ready to go out and get pissed and I wait until I get a call at three in the morning asking me to pick you up from some nightclub in town. Is that the system you're on about, Vince?"

"….Sort of." he shrugged.

Vince went silent after that. He was usually able to take Howard's dead-pan jibes at his laziness but it felt different with someone else in the room observing. However, Nathan was looking far from unimpressed at his new cool workmate. He was actually grinning at Vince.

"Cool. This job sounds way better than Burger King." said Nathan cheekily.

Howard narrowed his eyes at the youngster. "You can get back to pricing up those sports calendars, college boy. There's two whole boxes in the store room."

Nathan gave Vince another friendly nod and smile before quietly obeying Howard. The boy took the pricing gun from under the counter and headed towards the store room. It was odd for Vince to see anyone else, especially a young person, take any notice of what Howard told them to do. Usually he, Vince, was the only one to do so and even he just took Howard's orders with a pinch of salt and only half a proper listen, which resulted in him barely doing half the job asked of him. He was Howard's apprentice after all. Or at least he had been, back at the zoo, when Howard had been his mentor and guide. Not just an over-powering work superior who would snap at him for the most pointless of things. It almost felt as if Nathan was Howard's 'new Vince'. The very idea made the mod feel sick. No one could be a 'new Vince'. Having Lance Dior try and replace him was bad enough. But it was something else that was niggling at Vince more. Had he really become so intolerable lately that Howard was replacing him? Maybe that's what this was about. Maybe Howard really had become sick of having him around at long last.

When Nathan had left them, Howard had moved to stand behind the counter, finishing the job that he'd originally given to his new employee. Vince watched him with weary eyes. He was almost waiting for his friend to just stand up and say he'd had enough and wanted Vince to leave. The emotional chasm between them had been expanding every day for the past month since Howard's birthday party. It was all down to three factors. Firstly, the kiss. Secondly, the aftermath of said kiss. And thirdly…well, Vince didn't want to taint the taste on his tongue with the mention of It's name so early in the day (his day anyway). Howard, as always, was carrying on as if Vince wasn't even in the room. It made the mod boy want to scream and cry at the same time. He rounded around the till and leaned on the green surface so he was facing Howard at eye level - if Howard hadn't been looking deliberately to the ground. Vince slapped the counter with his hand to get his friend's attention.

Howard looked up at Vince as if he was another generic customer, "What?"

That one single empty word spurned Vince's inner frustration further. He's now managed to annoy the older man simply by standing there. Forget even having to say or anything. Just Vince existing was enough to make Howard snap now. He gripped the edge of the counter tight.

"What's with hiring Nathan? You didn't even talk to me about it."

"Well if you hadn't been so far gone when you came home last night, you might have heard me mention something about it. And if you'd been up this morning Vince you would've been able to interview him with me-"

"Well you could've woken me! Without having to send Bollo to pour a bucket of cold water on me!"

Howard's lips raised into a smirk, "Is that how he woke you up?"

"Don't change the subject!" Vince sniped, though it took Howard a while to stop his sniggering at Vince's expense. "Why the hell don't you talk to me about how we run this place anymore? I thought we were a team!"

"Since when have you given a toss for anything that goes on in this shop, Vince?" The laughter had stopped as quick as it had started. Howard was just as serious as Vince now.

"I'm a dedicated shopkeeper, I'll have you know. Just ask Naboo. He says I'm much better at running this place than you - you hardly ever sell anything here!"

"Like I said, Vince, Naboo's the one who gave me permission to hire someone. And the way you've been lately I can't believe you're that surprised."

"Oh sod how I've been lately! I'm just having a few off-days, that's all, it's nothing."

Howard's face softened a little as he looked at the younger man, "…Maybe you should see a doctor."

"I don't need a doctor! I just need…" He went quiet as he stared at his friend. I just need us to be the way we were.

Howard's eyes looked right through him. He really didn't have a clue what was going on inside Vince. And the mod wasn't sure whether he preferred it that way or wanted everything to come out to his oblivious friend. Even the shimmer of concern in Howard's chocolate brown eyes was worth holding on to so as not to lose it with everything else. It was some lasting proof that Howard did still care about him. That he did take the time to notice how much skinny Vince was becoming, how hollow his cheeks were, not to mention the amount he was drinking lately on his nights out. Not that any of it meant anything. All that was important was that…Howard did still wish him well…even if they were no longer the inseparable pair they had been before.

"Look, Howard, it ain't like I've got a problem with Nathan or anything. I just don't get why you didn't even tell me about it. If you had then it would've stopped me acting like a tit just then with me thinking he was a tea leaf."

"Well it's hard to consult someone on something when they're either smashed outta their brains, asleep till noon or wrapped up in some article about the Elizabethan look coming back in fashion. I don't see why you're taking this so personal, Vince, it's not like you've ever taken any notice of me so why should I wait around till you've got a spare moment in your hectic life to tell you about something. Especially when I've got better things to do."

There. It hit Vince hard in the stomach. Howard had much 'better things' to do then to spend another moment with him. He'd always used this vague excuse of time in his life and, once upon a time, Vince would follow with a retort that showed Howard up as having nothing truly better to do other than listen to his jazz L.P's or watch one of those horrifying avant-garde films on BBC4 that always gave Vince nightmares. Now, however, Vince knew full well that Howard really did have something better to do. He winced and started down at his knuckles turning white, with a brush of green, on the edge of the glowing counter.

"Bet you told her about hiring Nathan." he muttered under his breath.

"Pardon?"

Vince shook his head, his jaw clenched. "Never mind."

"If you've got something to say Vince then just come straight out and say it." It wasn't an invitation for honesty. It was a demand.

Vince pushed himself away from the counter and turned his back on Howard. He did have a lot of things he wanted to say to him. So many, many things that he'd run over in his mind a thousand times as he sat in his chair pretending to read or as he lay in the bed just a metre away from Howard's every night. Most were words that needed to be screamed out in a fit of hysteria, whilst others were soft as custard, and needed to be whispered softly and sweetly through the flow of bittersweet tears, whilst enveloped protectively in a pair of strong Northern arms. He so wanted to tell Howard about his dreams. The same dream every night - with reliving the moment they shared on the roof, up until the falling when it would mould into something different. Something ugly. Something like what their friendship had become.

On some level, Howard must have known how Vince was still feeling. It wasn't as if either of them could forget the morning after the party, after Howard's successful de-flowering, where Vince had confronted him in the flat. Vince had made it clear, façade thrown aside, that he was far from happy with Howard chucking him as he'd done on the bouncy castle. He'd told Howard how he'd taken in every word the maverick had preached to the sky in his lovesick stupor, and agreed with every single syllable. Therefore Vince assumed he was just ignoring the issue for the sake of it, hoping that it just be forgotten, along with everything else that was disintegrating from their life lately. Vince wrapped his arms around his stomach and shut his eyes. If only he could turn back time. If only he could go back to that night and…change things…somehow, he wasn't sure how, but he would do something! There was no way the outcome could be worse than this. He hugged himself tighter as he bit down hard again on the inside of his mouth.

Behind him he heard the squeak of wheels as Howard got up from his chair. His footsteps began to move towards him and soon enough he placed his hands on Vince's shoulders and turned the electro boy around to face him. Vince kept his eye-level down at Howard's collar bone, refusing to meet his eyes. He cringed as Howard placed a hand to his cheek to wipe away the wetness he hadn't even noticed that had seeped from his eyes and down his cheekbone.

"Vince,"

"Howard, don't…" He pleaded gruffly.

Howard's hand remained on his face. His warm, healthy touch so foreign to Vince's cold, food-deprived person.

"C'mon, little man." The almost-forgotten endearment threatened to bring a sob from Vince. "You've gotta start talking to me again. Me and you, we used to always talk didn't we? We'd never let each other shut up before, remember?"

Of course Vince remembered. The care-free banter. The meaningless insults. The silly play-fighting. The crimping. Everything that had once made them who they were.

"You don't talk to me anymore though."

"Only 'cause you keep shutting me out. Making distractions. You act like you don't want me to talk to you so I don't. Look, I know things have changed lately, but me and you are the still the same. We're still a team."

"Are we?" Vince's tone dripped with irony.

"'Course we are."

Vince smirked a little at just how thick his friend really was. Howard really was so dense that he couldn't see just how much the two of them had changed lately. He bet he didn't even notice it had been weeks since they'd made up a crimp together. Howard probably couldn't even remember what a crimp was by now. How long would it be before the older man forgot about Vince all together? Another film of tears covered his blue eyes.

"Ey, now, let's not have anymore of that." Howard hushed, wiping away more of Vince's tears with the cuff of his Hawaiian shirt. He cupped Vince's face in his hands and tilted it up to look at him. Howard was smiling at him…and, to Vince's surprise, it wasn't just a dry meaningless smile like one would give to someone giving up their seat on the bus, it was a proper Howard Moon's heartfelt special. The sight made Vince's bottom lip tremor.

Howard sighed, searching his friend's eyes, "Where's my Vince gone, ey?"

Vince stared up at him. He felt a surge to grip the other man's face and scream aloud the words he was desperate to say. "I'M your Vince! I'm still here! I haven't gone anywhere, it's YOU whose left ME! It's YOU whose changed, you great Northern pillock! Where's MY Howard gone? Where is he?!" The younger man's mouth remained shut. He stopped crying and forced, despite the stinging in his jaw, his usual mega-watt grin that stretched across his face. It immediately brightened the smile on Howard's.

"That's more like it. Thought I was gonna have to get out the First Aid bag of raspberry bootlaces for a moment."

A semi-genuine laugh escaped from Vince. He was fully aware of Howard still holding his face and leant into his touch, cherishing it for all it was worth. They hadn't been like this in so long. It was a wonder they were just in the same room together for longer than a minute. Now they were laughing together like before. Vince had managed to recapture one of their old moments of closeness - and all he'd had to do was break for Howard to notice him. Which, he rationalised, was better than nothing.

"M'sorry, Howard." He hated apologizing. He never wanted it to come to this. "M'sorry for being a tit lately."

"Just forget about it." whispered Howard. Still holding his friend's head, he leant forward and gave a small peck on Vince's fringe. "I still love you, little man."

Vince's eyes rolled up. The tiny spot on his forehead was tingling. With as little thought as that night on the roof, Vince reached his hands up to grab Howard's face and pull him into another kiss like the one he'd been reliving in his dreams every night for the past twenty eight days - until Howard gripped his friend's wrists and held him back, looking at him as if he was insane.

"What you doing?" he asked, his voice rapt and shocked.

The confused Vince didn't reply. Surely he'd heard right. He hadn't mistaken what Howard had said before. The signs were all there. He'd been wanting him to kiss him. Why was he pulling away? It didn't make sense.

"You…said you-"

"Vince, I was only…"

He watched Howard stumble on his words as his feelings obviously became visible as graffiti on his face. Already Vince could feel his heart holding a threatening blade to it's arteries, ready slice and put him out of his misery. Howard was going to do it again. He was going to shove him back and reject him - again.

"Oh God, Vince, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

Before Vince's heart could truly break for a second time around, the tension was sliced by the sound of Howard's boring 'classic phone' ring-tone chiming from his mobile. Howard managed to tear his eyes away from Vince's crushed face to pull the phone from his pocket and flip it open, holding it to his ear and greeting his caller without sounding to exasperated from what had just happened. Vince felt his stomach tighten. Before Howard even spoke he knew full well who was calling him. An unearthly rage burned inside him.

"Hello?…Oh, hi babe. You alright?…Great…Yeah, I'm good, s'all systems well here…Yeah, Vince is fine too…." Howard may as well have been commenting on someone else. He didn't even regard Vince as he said his name. He just continued to talk, his voice having melted like warm nutella to the voice on the other end. "…Sure, I'd love to. Where abouts?….Ok, I'll see you then….See you later, alligator! Haha….Yeah bye."

Someone please hand me the fucking bucket, thought Vince, squirming. Howard closed the phone, a sudden light having reappeared in his face. He put the phone back in his pocket and looked up to Vince, seemingly having just remembered his friend was still in the shop. His smile wavered a little but his eyes no longer held the awkward confusion at the kiss-fail before. It obviously didn't even register on his mind anymore. The pitying look he gave him made the smaller man want to wretch even more.

"Uhmm, that was-"

"I know who it was." he snapped, coldly.

Howard cocked his head to the side, "Vince don't be like that. It's getting really old now, don't you think? Look, we'll just forget what happened there, I know you're upset and you ain't been feeling right lately. We'll leave it at that, alright? Alright?"

Vince flashed Howard another one of his grins, this one just as fake as the last. "Sure Howard."

"Brilliant. I've gotta go change, I'm meeting Sephy for lunch in twenty minutes. If I ain't back in time, I'm sure you and Nathan can cope, but call me if there's an emergency. Ok."

He didn't even wait for Vince's agreement this time. It wasn't needed.

Something struck Vince's mind from nowhere, "Howard, wait..."

"Mmm?" His friend turned around.

"...You didn't ask what my excuse for being late was today."

"Oh? Don't worry about it, Vince. S'not important."

And with that Howard turned around and was bounding up the stairs in a matter of seconds, the giddy spring in his step something that had once belonged to Vince's, in place of the invisible ball and chain that now replaced it. Something inside Vince broke at Howard's words. It wasn't important. He wasn't important.

Vince stepped backwards before collapsing into his familiar chair by the shop window. Maybe there had once been a time where Vince would've been proud of punch that his hopeless pal had finally snagged himself a girlfriend - a real human girlfriend as well, without gills or seaweed hair. He'd have been thrilled to see Howard so happy in his life for once. And, in truth, Vince had been for the first few weeks - after getting over the shock of Howard actually managed to keep the girl, and placing bets with Bollo and Naboo over how long it would last. Vince had even helped Howard get himself fixed up to go on his dates. He'd been tempted to lend his outfits but, after none of them would fit, it had been decided to let Howard go with his own style - but just improve it from being, well, crap. He'd taught him chat up lines and classic moves to romance Sephy - formerly known as Pencil Case Girl - without making her scream and run like the rest of the girls Howard came into contact with. And Howard had listened to Vince's every word. And, when the moves had worked, he'd come home from his dates and hugged Vince so tight the younger man could hear his ribs threatening to crack - and he'd loved it. All of a sudden he had become the mentor and he felt the same rush of affection and pride that he assumed Howard had felt in all those years of teaching him in the art of Zoo-keeping. Except, whereas that scenario lasted years before changing, this one barley made it past a week. Once Howard knew all he needed to know, Vince was no longer of any use to him - not now he had Sephy.

Whilst the eager Casanova's footsteps sounded on the floor above, Vince remained sitting in his chair, his head resting on his knuckles. Silently drowning in his own sea of regrets and self-pity. The door to the store room creaked open and out totted a weary Nathan. Vince could hear him creeping through the thick smog of bitterness still hanging in the shop. Had he been anyone else, Vince would have forced on his usual sparkling front and resumed his duties of bouncing around the shop without a single care. But, Nathan just being a student, and, from Vince's estimate, not a very cool one, he decided just to let it go. If the kid was gonna be working here then he was gonna see the whole story for himself anyway, whether Vince wanted him to or not.

Nathan cleared his throat, standing but a metre of safe-distance from Vince, "So…uh…coffee?"

He could've told the kid to fuck off. He could've just kept ignoring him. He could've done both. God knows he wanted to, as much as he wanted to chuck himself off the flat roof and fall to the death his dreams seemed to be predicting. That wouldn't have been fair to Nathan on his first day though, to leave him alone. Plus he'd already let one innicent bystander get in the way of the rath of his wayward emotions. Summoning back just a tenth of his classic smile, Vince turned to the boy and nodded gratefully. Though he now felt it probably would be necessary to get out the First Aid bag of raspberry bootlaces.

A/N: Yeah....I'm really sorry about the angst. If you want to make Vince happy though just press the review button :) He likes that. Go on, cheer him up. He'll love you for it.