The Night Before Gothmas (two part fic)
Category: The Mighty Boosh, Real Person Fic
Characters: Howard Moon, Julian Barratt, Noel Fielding, Vince Noir
Pairing: Howard Moon/Vince Noir, Noel Fielding/Julian Barratt
Genre: Holiday - Christmas
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Unspecified Warning
Status: Complete
Length: 10-20k words
Chapter 2
Contents
Chapter 2
Author’s Notes: Warnings: Contined festive irreverence, m/m sex, mentioned of het, swearing and general cheekiness.
Author’s Notes: Betaed by avon_09
“Watch it,” Vince said, unable to control himself. “This kimono’s real silk you know.”
The Angel strode over to Vince.
“I have clothes for you to wear,” the Angel said, his eyes shining like deep red roses blooming in the snow. “You won’t need any others.”
“Then I go home and I can wear my own stuff again?” Vince asked, looking up at the Angel, dressed in black.
“You will not see your home again,” the Evil Angel said, his voice unchanging in tone or speed. He spoke in a beautiful but dangerous English accent, like Christopher Lee reading Shakespeare.
“You’re going to move me to a nice, little house in the country?” Vince suggested. “I do have hayfever though, so….”
“You will not need a cottage,” The Angel stooped and pulled Vince up by the collar of his dressing-gown.
“A flat?”
“No, you will not need an abode.”
Vince’s feet left the floor, his legs dangling like ropes.
“Am I going to be an angel too? I could really brighten up that outfit with some…”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the Angel said, his voice changing to become quicker, higher, more… common. “I’m tryin to tell ya that you’re going to die, you dopey nonce. How do you expect me to be full-on evil if you’re going to be such an idiot.”
“I am not an idiot,” Vince said, kicking the Angel in the kneecap. He turned around and began running towards the barn. “I’m just really, really shallow!”
“You will pay, pathetic human,” the Angel said, his voice melodiously dark once more, as he rubbed his knee. A clod of mud landed on the side of his head. “You sneaky little bastard!”
Julian blinked. He hadn’t even made it to sleep this time before the dreams began crowding in. He was, allegedly, adding extra decoration to a Black Forest gateau. So far, this involved extra cream and almost drowning it in Kirsch. The gateau was what he and Noel had decided should substitute for all other Christmas puddings on their Gothmas day. This was mostly due to the fact that it had black in the title. He looked over his shoulder to Noel, who was supposed to be grating chocolate. Instead, Noel was looking at him.
“You’re worried about Vince, aren’t you?” Noel said, a strange little smile quirking at the edges of his mouth.
“Aren’t you?” Julian asked, wondering why he was as worried as he was.
“I’m more worried about Howard,” Noel said, shaking his bowlful of chocolate curls. “He must be pacing the walls right now.”
“The walls?”
“Whatever.”
“It all seems really real though, doesn’t it?” Julian said, putting his spatula down. “The dreams and you and I having them and doing this and…”
“Vince’ll be okay, Ju,” Noel said, walking to put his arm around Julian’s shoulder. “He’s resilient. Like a cat; he always lands on his feet. And the Angel won’t keep Bollo and Naboo at bay for long.”
“I hope so,” Julian replied. He rested his head against Noel’s shoulder.
“I know so.”
Howard was on the phone. He was cradling the receiver as if it was made of paper-thin bone china.
“Naboo, something happens, it’s all gone wrong!” he said down the receiver. “Vince is gone.”
“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Naboo’s voice didn’t even hint at panic.
“He’s been taken, he was about to open presents and now he’s gone,” Howard said, rubbing his eyes.
“We’ve got to him Howard, we’ve changed the Angel’s plans,” Naboo said matter-of-factly. “You made sure Vince was drinking the potion all night?”
“Put it in a pink cocktail,” Howard told him. “Worked like a charm. I drank the evil, black drinks all night.”
“Nice one, Howard,” Naboo sounded surprised. “That was good thinking. Did anything else happen?”
“I woke up naked and tied to the bed with a gladioli up my arse,” Howard blushed, despite the fact that Naboo wasn’t with him.
“I don’t want to know about your sex life, Howard,” Naboo said. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I can’t remember it, Vince can and he was the one who tied me up,” Howard felt like crying. “I think.”
“Weird,” Naboo sounded thoughtful.
“Do you think it’s a clue?”
“Nah, I just thought Vince had better taste,” Naboo said lightly. “Listen, I’ll send reinforcements. Me and Bollo will stay here just in case he turns up. Expect a knock in the window in five and take the rest of the potion and the… thing we mentioned with you.”
The line went dead.
Someone knocked at the window.
“Did Naboo mean five seconds?’ Howard thought as he made his way to the window and opened it up. A flying carpet hovered outside the window, its occupants well-known to Howard.
“Are you Harold?”
“Howard, yes, that’s me,” Howard said. “Hang on.”
Howard collected his coat and made a silent prayer that they would reach Vince in time. He picked up the potion and a strange, woollen lump. He paused for a moment, remembering the jollity of the night before. Remembering that he’d not told Vince of the danger. He could hear the two Shamen arguing outside the window.
“If you can’t even remember the man’s name, Tony, what are you going to do when we get to the crunch?” Saboo said in his rather nasal tones.
“Leave it out,” Tony Harrison replied. “You didn’t know his name either. And besides, I’ve got things on my mind. Mrs Harrison was very annoyed by me coming out on Christmas Eve. Normally, this is when we decorate our tree…”
“Let me guess, you sit on the top and pretend to be the Christmas fairy,” Saboo suggested.
“It’s an outrage!”
Howard sighed, then climbed out of the window and joined Tony Harrison and Saboo to go and find Vince.
Julian was laying upside down on the sofa looking at Noel. His head was hanging off the side of the seat, though his deerstalker hat (his present from Noel) remained in place. Noel was sat on the stairs outside the door talking to Dee and telling her about Gothmas. He was wearing the black, net blouse Julian had bought him. He looked like Penelope Keith gone goth.
“Me and Jules are having a dream about Vince & Howard too,” Noel told Dee. He knew his voice always got louder when he was excited. Julian was looking straight at him. “We’re having it in stages, like we’re writing an episode in our sleep. It’s well weird.”
“We spend too much time with each other,” Julian said in a strangled upside-down sort of voice.
Noel smiled. Dee had just said the same thing. “Julian’s all worried that Vince is in danger.”
“What happened, did someone nick his hair straighteners?” Dee said, a smile in her voice. “Which reminds me…”
“ I did notice that you took them, yes,” Noel told his girlfriend. “I look a complete fright. Vince has been kidnapped by the Evil Angel.”
“Has he got funky black wings?” Dee asked.
Noel bit his lip. “No, not really.”
“Well that’s disappointing,” Dee told him. “Naboo to the rescue?”
“Yeah. I knew Naboo would have a plan,” he told Dee looking at Julian who shrugged. The unspoken worry that something sinister was afoot was clearly in Julian’s mind. The whole thing was creeping Noel out too, but where would they be if they both panicked?
“I knew Howard would too,” Julian grinned.
“Yeah,” Noel said. “Howard and Naboo have been working together. I don’t really know whether they’re using Vince as bait..”
“They SO wouldn’t do that,” Dee said sharply. “It’d be like using a puppy to catch an alligator.”
Noel looked at Julian who was shaking his head.
“Might have been,” Noel pouted. “Anyway, I suppose Jules and I ought to start on Gothmas dinner.”
“You two worry me,” Dee told him. “Have fun, love you.”
“Love you too,” Noel said softly, blushing. Julian was grinned at him.
“Aw,” he said. “You’re so cute.”
“Shut up.” Noel stood up and wandered into the living room. “Come and help me cook, you lazy git.”
Julian threw a bit of broccoli at Noel.
“So are we working on the principle that if we have Gothmas,” he said, “that it’ll stop us having this dream then?”
“Nah,” Noel said, playing keepie-uppies with the broccoli. “That’s just for fun. We’ve just been writing too long. It’s started to send us mad. Any minute now, I’m going to start wearing a souffle as a hat and you’ll sit in the corner drooling and reciting Pam Ayres poetry.”
“I’ll get right on that,” Julian nodded and went back to disemboweling vegetables.
“I tell you what would be annoying,” Noel told him, checking how aesthetically pleasing his stuffed pepper was before it was cooked. “If we couldn’t write in any other way but through dreams. We’d have to sleep together all the time so we could get writing as soon as we woke up.”
“I’m sure Dee and Julia would absolutely love that,” Julian told him. “Well…”
“They’d be alright as long as the bed held all four of us, and you know it!” Noel had clearly decided that his pepper was a work of genius and began carving carrots into pumpkin heads.
“Stop!” Julian said with a grin. Rather irritatingly, Noel did have a point. “Can we actually stop preparing and cook something soon?”
“You’re such a lightweight,” Noel replied, waving a tomato with a face carved in it in Julian’s face. “Go and make us a cup of tea and we’ll have a biscuit.” Noel pointed to the plate of rich tea biscuits that he had iced skeleton heads onto. They might have been scarier if they didn’t have beards made with hundreds and thousands and little silver balls for eyes.
Julian put the kettle on and sat down at the kitchen table. It occurred to him as his head drooped that he had started seeing the story from Vince’s side. That was weird too, right? Then he realised that none of this made sense. His head lolled. He wasn’t sleeping… no, he was just resting his eyes.
“What do you want with me?” Vince howled. He was a tormented man. He was wearing the clothes the Angel had decided he should wear and they were not good. He was, in effect, a goth elf. He had funny Naboo booties, which were alright. For Naboo. He had tights on. TIGHTS! If they had been black opaque, that might have been okay. They were black and patterned with funny little skeleton heads with beards. Since Vince had hairy legs, the effect was that he was wearing moth-eaten mohair leggings. In addition to that, the black jerkin and leather shorts had a slight tinge of lederhosen-like severity mixed with Blackadder. If Blackadder was a goth and also a bit of a mentalist. Come to think of it…
The little hat with bells on that Vince was also wearing… Well, actually Vince rather liked that. It was like the first known iPod and it pleased him to think that this was probably what people did in the 50’s before Walkmans were invented. Not that he remembered Walkmans. No. Far too young.
“You will help me deliver my presents,” the Evil Angel told him. “Everyone knows that Santa only goes to people who are good. Few people know that I am what happens to those who are bad.”
Vince shivered. He’d seen the presents and it was clear that the Angel had seen ‘The Godfather’ and taken the horse head in the bed as inspiration. He had expanded though. Not all the heads had belonged to horses. Vince assumed that the goldfish head was for people who had only done something a little bit naughty. The elephant head on the other hand…
“I’m not sure I’m the right person for the job, Mr Evil Angel,” Vince told him, tying a bow around a hamster head. “Your bike makes me feel a bit dizzy.”
“I could tell,” the Angel said. “It was nice.” The Angel shook his head. “But, Mr Noir, you seem to think you have a choice in this matter. You do not. You will help or your head will be one of the presents I give out tonight. Perhaps to your friend, Howard?”
“No!” Vince shouted. “You can’t do that to Howard. I’ve got hat hair, it’ll look really bad.”
“You do not persuade me, human,” the angel said. “Oh, and by the way, call me Kevin.”
Noel was putting the finishing touches to the gateau. He was trying to make the cherries on top look like blood and guts. Oddly enough, it wasn’t that hard.
He could sort of feel Vince’s fear somehow. Julian’s dream had crept into his subconscious and the feeling of fight or flight was running through him. He decided that this was something he should take advantage of and, leaving his handiwork for a moment, went and ran up and down stairs. Julian stuck his head out of the living room door.
“Is this like Rocky?” Julian asked as his eyes followed Noel up and down. “Should I come up with some training montage music?”
“You’re awake!” Noel said loudly and ran downstairs and promptly bounced on Julian. He was impressed with Julian’s reactions. He was caught and bundled into the living room before being dumped unceremoniously on the sofa. Julian wobbled and fell on top of him, so Noel decided that he may as well have a snog since they were so close. “Had a bit of a mad energy rush,” he said when he pulled his lips from Julian’s. He tasted like sugar and cigarettes. “Want to fuck you.”
“I’ve got to be bounced on then?” Julian asked, beginning to get up.
“Don’t… can’t we just..?” Noel was trying to cling on to Julian’s shirt and keep him where he was.
“I thought you wanted to bounce on me?” Julian said with a smile, flopping onto the floor. “I would have been impressed though if you could have managed that from being flattened into the sofa.”
Noel grinned and clambered off the settee. He stood for a moment, stripping off his clothes, watching Julian wriggle around on the floor whilt also trying to disrobe.
“Wait,” he whispered, running into the kitchen. He grabbed the butter from off the counter and ran back to Julian, dropping it onto the floor by his side.
“Very ‘Last Tango in Paris’,” Julian commented, digging his fingers into the butter. Noel clambered onto the floor and astride Julian’s chest, facing his legs. He closed his eyes when Julian’s finger entered him, wriggling his backside. Julian’s erection grew more pronounced as another finger entered alongside the first and Noel couldn’t resist but lean forward and take the tip into his mouth. He sucked the head, grinning inwardly as Julian groaned. By the time Julian had a third finger inside him, Noel couldn’t take it anymore. After scraping his fingers in the butter, he slicked-up Julian’s cock. Then, he climbed over Julian so that he was facing him and grabbed his dick, guiding it inside him. The thick stretch and burn as he was entered made him inhale sharply, hissing between his teeth. He liked the feeling; the tightness, the fullness. Julian was gulping in lungfuls of air as he reached up blindly. Noel reached out and grabbed his hands, squeezing his fingers.
“Fucking hell,” Noel whispered. Braced, he fucked himself on Julian’s cock. The slick sounds of their bodies coming together made him groan. He loved everything about this and he started a fast pace and didn’t slow down. Julian grabbed Noel’s cock and stroked it in time to Noel’s movements. “Yes, touch me, make me fucking come all over you,” he moaned. He knew he wouldn’t last long and knew Julian wouldn’t either. This was about adrenalin and need and only a quick, hard fuck would do. He shivered, picturing himself fucking his best friend in the middle of the living room floor in the middle of the morning. He loved that he could do this. “Fuck, I needed this. Love you inside me, feels fucking filthy. Love fucking you. Want you to come in me Jules, no time, just need to fucking come, want to feel you so fucking much.”
Noel threw his head back, his skin felt sensitive, hot and cold all at the same time, and his blood pounded in his ears. He clamped his teeth together, so fucking close. He felt Julian below him, tightening and arching like a bow as he came inside him in hot spurts. Noel wrapped his hand around Julian’s on his own cock, pumping faster until the sensation blocked out everything from the carpet burns on his knees to the cramp building in his thighs. He whimpered, feeling the warm moisture of his release spray then ooze between his fingers. He rocked on his knees breathing heavily until Julian reached up and held him by the waist. When he opened his eyes, Julian was looking at him carefully.
“Good?” Julian asked. He smiled and ran his fingers along the sweat running down Noel’s chest.
“Good,” Noel confirmed, shifting himself so he could fall and lay by Julian’s side. He watched Julian trail his sweaty fingers trail through the mess on his belly and then Noel closed his eyes.
Howard was on the verge of tears. He was worried about Vince sure, but what was making him cry was the ridiculous speed of whipping through the air on one of Persia’s finest. He could barely breath. There was also the fact that Tony Harrison and Saboo could barely shut up for a second.
“There!” shouted Tony Harrison at the top of his lungs. Below them, the patchwork effect of fields and hedges stretched out, cut by farms and roads. As they swooped lower, in the direction of Tony’s flailing tentacle, a barn came into focus. It was hazy to Howard, something on the edge of seeing. What he could see was a small speck of black running around a motorbike. Howard assumed he was being chased and, every now and then he would see something that might have been a shape. A shape pursuing Vince. Then he would blink and the shape would disappear. What was clear was the fact that Saboo and Tony could see it.
“Get him, Saboo,” Tony Harrison screeched.
“We’re heading for the Crunch Tony, stop telling me what to do,” Saboo said, leaning forward as the carpet sped downwards. “This is my department.”
“The crunch department?” Tony Harrison asked. “What is this? Debenhams?”
“Shut it, you testicle,” Saboo shouted. “I’ve had enough. Welcome to the crunch.”
Poor Tony Harrison was booted off the side of the carpet, falling, with quite an impressive turn of speed, to the ground. Except that as Howard watched, it seemed as if Tony hit something before the ground and, as they were only 8 or so feet above the earth, he could hear a muffled “Oooof!” And suddenly, Howard could see the Angel. Though the Angel had fallen, he was conscious. He kicked Tony Harrison out the way and pointed at Vince.
“Speak your last!” the Angel commanded.
“Howard!” Vince shouted. “Help!”
With less thought than Howard would normally put into such things, he jumped from the carpet and flattened Vince to the floor. A beam of power screamed through the air and Howard could feel it pulling at his clothes. He rolled Vince over and over again until the motorbike was between the Angel and them.
“How are you feeling?” Howard asked, searching Vince’s blue eyes. He didn’t like what he saw.
“What do you mean, how am I feeling?” Vince sobbed. “I’m bloody terrified!”
“Drink this, Vince,” Howard said, pulling the bottle of Naboo’s potion from his pocket. “It’ll help, I promise.”
Vince took the bottle and smelled it warily.
“This isn’t the time for cocktails! Are you off your nougat?”
“It’s one of Naboo’s potions, Vince. I need you to drink this because you can stop the Angel. You Vince! You can stop him. Drink the potion!”
Vince blinked, nodded and upended the bottle, drinking its contents in one go.
“Good lad,” Howard said, peeking over the side of the motorcycle. “A few seconds more and we’ll be ready.”
“Ready for what, Howard?” Vince was poking over the edge too. Saboo appeared to be wrestling the Angel. Howard never realised Shamen work was so hands on.
“Anytime you’re ready, Howard…” Saboo shouted.
“Is it the crunch?” the feeble voice of Tony Harrison called from the near distance.
“How do you feel?” Howard asked Vince. He could feel the glow from his friend’s smile without looking.
“Good,” Vince said. “Have you noticed that fella in black’s got ferrets on his jacket? Bet that’s a boring job. I don’t know how they stick it. Mind you, they don’t look very happy do they?”
“They look miserable Vince,” Howard said with a broad grin. “Why don’t you go and have a chat?”
The mink were pissed. One minute they were scampering around doing what mink do, the next, some bloke with brake-lights for eyes was tying them to his coat. The mink had all heard Mummy mink’s stories that people would turn them into a fur coat if they strayed too far from the burrow, but none of them expected it to be like this.
Vince had chatted to the mink whilst Saboo attempted to stop the Evil Angel from throttling him. The Angel was angry at Vince, he could tell. Naboo’s potion had made Vince feel all glowy again, like he’d eaten Ready Brek and then swallowed an energiser battery. Howard’s words hadn’t hurt either. Vince could do this. He could stop Kevin.
Ginger the mink was coughing politely in Vince’s direction.
“Awright Ginger, what’s up?” Vince leaned his head down close to listen to the mink. The Angel screeched, trying to grab Vince. Saboo began to mutter a strange incantation and turned the Angel’s hands into sponge cake.
“Nice plan, Ginger,” Vince said nodding at the mink’s words. “Really? I know just the man. Give me a squeak when you’re ready.”
Vince crawled over to Howard.
“Me and the mink have got a plan, Howard,” Vince told his friend. “We need your help though. You wouldn’t be able to whip some jazz up from somewhere would you?”
“It’s a good job I bought this with me,” Howard said, reaching behind him and confronting Vince with the strange woollen object he’d been carrying.
“Jazz, Howard. Not knitting.”
Howard didn’t reply, he just fought with the woollen thing a bit until he managed to produce a gleaming trumpet from its fluffy depths.
“Genius!” Vince turned round and gave the thumbs up to Ginger.
With a squeak, Ginger began to wriggle and bite the Angel. His other mink buddies did the same. One of them managed to bite the Angel’s hands off, leaving Saboo to charge the Angel and knock him to the floor. Once he was there, the mink pinned him to the floor by his clothes, refusing to let him move. Ginger squeaked again.
“Now Howard!” Vince shouted before jamming his fingers in his ears. He could still hear the jazzy notes fly from Howard’s trumpet. The Angel writhed.
“No!” the Angel yelled struggling to block his own ears from the sound. “NO!”
The mink held on tightly to the Angel as he began to smoke. The Angel may have been pure evil, but not even he could withstand the dark power of jazz. As the waterfall of notes fell upon him, the Angel began to burn and crumble.
“Is this the only way?” Tony Harrison asked, sidling up to Saboo.
“We have crossed over, Tony,” Saboo said solemnly. “We are in the land beyond the Crunch.”
“Why isn’t Naboo here to deal with this shit?” Tony Harrison asked as the Angel became a pile of dust.
“Because the Angel only has one place to go,” Saboo watched as the dust began to rise and head again towards London. “And Naboo will be there waiting.”
Julian was stirring gravy, watching the tale unfold in the dark brown depths. Trust Vince to get help from a bunch of jumped-up ferrets, he thought.
Cooking wasn’t one of Julian’s normal activities. Normally, if he reached for a saucepan, Julia would remind him that fire brigade was on speed-dial. Noel however, was more relaxed. He was shuffling around, his hair still damp from the shower. It felt quite cosy the two of them pottering around.
“Good old Ginger,” Noel said, squeezing Julian’s arse as he walked past.
“It’s all down to the power of jazz, and you know it,” Julian huffed. “That’s why the Evil Angel drink couldn’t touch Howard. He’s infused with jazz.”
“Whatever,” Noel said, standing on tiptoe to brush his lips against Julian’s cheek. “Howard was awesome.”
Julian shivered involuntarily. There was a whisper of a draft and an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. There was a pattering sound, like raindrops against the window. Both he and Noel looked towards the kitchen window. The pane was covered in ash.
“That can’t be good,” Noel said, wide-eyed.
The doorbell rang.
Julian looked at Noel and he looked right back.
“It can’t be?” They both said. The ash at the window reversed and slammed itself against the pane, swarming around the edges, trying to find a way in.
Julian ran towards the door.
“Mike?” Noel said, looking out from behind Julian.
“Not today,” came the reply and Naboo the enigma (dressed as Mike Fielding) walked into the flat. “This place isn’t nearly as nice as mine,” he told Noel as he walked towards the kitchen.
Julian followed Naboo and, before Noel could shut the front door, Dave walked in. Noel couldn’t help but notice that he was walking like Bollo. He was also holding a bucket of green slime. A single, large, white polo mint floated on the surface.
Bollo nodded at Noel. “Vince’s dressing-gown nicer,” he said before following Naboo and Julian into the kitchen. Noel was trying not to think about Bollo wearing a Dave-suit and not the other way around. However, it seemed that there was little to do but follow so that was what he did.
The ashes were circling Naboo’s head. Noel knew it was the Evil Angel, no matter how impossible it might have seemed. The small Shaman lifted his hands. Bollo held out his bucket. Naboo spoke.
“Stop your evil, Angel dust
The story’s done and so are you
Stop your evil, that’s a must
Melt the ash and turn to goo.”
The Angel ash fizzled angrily before turning to black, oily liquid which spun around the room for a moment then poured itself into the bucket. The green goo turned to a horrible muddy colour, then it rose to the top and the polo popped onto the surface with a hiss.
“Was that the Hitcher?” Noel said, pointing into the bucket.
“Yeah,” Naboo said, dropping his hands. “Well, Kevin and the Hitcher are they’re old mates, so they might as well share.”
“Also,” Bollo added. “Less storage room needed.”
Noel nodded. Julian caught his eye and Noel knew they were both thinking the same thing.
“Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“Howard was the key really,” Naboo said after his fifth glass of claret. Julian wasn’t sure how he managed to imbibe that much alcohol, but then he’d wondered the same about Mike. Not that Mike drank claret. That was something he’d never known about Naboo. He was an enigma indeed. “Julian was right, the jazz kept him safe. No matter how much of the Evil Angel’s poison he drank, the swing in his blood and the bee-bop in his soul kept him real.”
Bollo nodded sagely. Well, actually, Julian was fairly sure that Bollo was asleep. He’d eaten as many of the over-cooked vegetables as Julian and Noel had put in front of him. Now, apart from the flatulence, he was quiet.
“But surely Vince is fluffy and happy enough not to fall for the evil?” Noel said. He looked slightly peeved at this point. Julian felt that he should step in.
“Vince is the sunshine kid,” Julian told Naboo.
“But Vince loves Goth,” Naboo said. “He has a touch of evil in his soul. It was open for the Angel to step in. The potion just kept him happy, like liquid Abba. Nothing can touch it. Without it, the story could have ended very differently.”
“Well, I’m grateful that you took control, Naboo,” Julian said and raised his glass. The three men clinked glasses. Bollo slept on.
“No more dreams then,” Noel said a little sadly. “Bit of a shame really.”
“Think positive,” Naboo told him, trying to rest his elbow on the table. He missed by a few inches. “The Angel went for Vince and Howard, not you. We didn’t have to give you two any potion at all, you’re strong enough without it. Plus, they don’t know it yet, but Howard and Vince are going to have the mother of all hangovers tomorrow.”
“Hm.” Bollo grunted awake with a start. “I’ve got a bad feeling about that.”
“You’ve always got a bad feeling,” Naboo said yawning. “I’m pretty tired now.”
“We better get home before other two wake up,” Bollo said as he reached out to pull the small Shaman to his feet. “I drive,” Bollo said to Naboo. “You take bucket.”
“It’s my carpet,” Naboo whinged.
“You been drinking. Bollo drive,” Bollo said.
Julian walked them to the door. “How did you and he…?”
Bollo turned round and looked at him. “If Mike or Dave call,” he said rolling his eyes as if the answer was obvious. “Tell them go back to sleep. Tell Dave not to take gorilla suit off.”
Julian nodded. He was still nodding long after the flying carpet, carrying an inebriated shamen and a great ape who looked like a man, had gone. He didn’t hear Noel walk up behind him, but felt his arms slip around his waist.
“I vote we don’t tell the girls about this bit,” Noel said quietly.
“Good idea,” Julian said, holding Noel’s hands around him. “Can we eat the gateau now?”
Howard had insisted on driving the Angel’s motorbike back home.
“Finders keepers,” he told Vince, settling himself on the seat. “Jump aboard, little man.”
Vince climbed on, trying to hide the fact that he’d shoved Ginger under his kimono. He’d pulled his elf clothing off so fast after the Angel disappeared, that Tony Harrison was still telling Saboo that it wasn’t fair to enforce such a thing on him after he’d been drop kicked into the crunch. Saboo was too busy looking at Vince’s arse.
“Where’s Naboo and Bollo anyway?” Vince asked, looking back at the bickering Shamen as they drove up the rutted farm track back the motorway. Their pace was much more sedate than it had been when the angel was driving.
“Some sort of alternate universe-y thing,” Howard said, revving the motorbike’s engine. There was funny little button on the right side of the handlebar. It had flames on it.
“Thank you for saving me, Howard,” Vince told his friend, holding onto him tighter. He had a feeling that Howard was about to do something all action-mannish. Normally he would laugh, but today..? Today he didn’t mind so much. “I was really scared.”
“Me too,” Howard replied before choking. He’d forgotten that opening your mouth when riding a motorbike in the countryside, was fraught with the possibility of inhaling your own body weight in insects. “Hold tight, Vince. Let’s see what this baby can do.”
Vince clung onto Howard and closed his eyes. He heard the roar of acceleration and felt the speed rush over him, ruffling his kimono in the wind. He wasn’t scared this time though. He was with Howard.
End Notes: Finished!
