Alternate Scene

Just a little interlude between a damp and semi-naked Howard Moon and everyone’s favourite fishy bastard.

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Notes: Totally pointless, totally predictable, but it got stuck in my head and I just had to write it. Also, I though we should have an Old Gregg entry in this challenge.

I apologise if it doesn’t seem to fit in with the episode, I haven’t been able to watch Series Two for a while. Also, it kinda just jumps straight in…

Oh, and italics = Howard’s thoughts.

Criticism always welcome. : )


Alternate Scene by inigosolo

Howard stumbled backwards, away from the strange fish-man before him.

This Old Gregg character was way too fixated on him, it was making him decidedly uncomfortable.

Nobody got fixated with Howard Moon. No women, or men – nobody was ever interested.

Until now.

Until this freakish fishy bastard who was advancing on him.

These thoughts were so alarming and depressing that Howard didn’t notice the rock pool behind him until he was sat in it.

He blinked in surprise at suddenly being soaked, not to mention having a sore behind, and glared at the rock that had tripped him.

“Are you ok Howard?” Came that eerie voice.

Howard shivered and glared up at the fish-man.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He snapped. “Just a bit wet.”

“I can get you dry Howard. I can start a fire.”

“Fine, fine…” He tried to get to his feet, but the bottom of the pool was covered in some sort of green slime, and he slipped and splashed down into the water again. “Oww…”

“Here, let me help you Howard.” Old Gregg came forward and reached out one webbed hand to him. Howard sighed, and took it.

Old Gregg hauled him to his feet with surprising strength, and held both of his hands as he clambered back onto the dry rock.

Howard was strongly aware of the romantic implications of holding hands with the creature, and he broke the contact as soon as possible, shoving his hands into his pockets, and then regretting it as they met with a damp squelch.

“Urghh…”

“I’ll get you dry Howard, don’t worry!” Old Gregg said quickly, and set about building a fire in a dry circle of rock. He began to burn some dry seaweed, which gave off a strong, salty aroma and filled the cave with smoke.

Howard shifted uncomfortably in his wet clothes and sat on the ground close to the fire, but Old Gregg shook his head, and brought him a deck-chair.

“Take off your wet clothes Howard, or you’ll get sick.”

“No, no, I’m fine like this, Gregg,” He said hastily, then sneezed violently several times.

“Go on Howard, I don’t want you to get sick. I’ll get you a warm blanket.” Gregg said imploringly, wandering away into the depths of his cave.

After a moments indecision, Howard quickly removed his shoes and socks, then his jacket, and laid them close to the fire.

He hesitated over the rest of his clothes.

On the one hand, he was very uncomfortable, and he did want to get dry as soon as possible.

But, on the other hand, he didn’t much like the idea of fending off the advances of Old Gregg wearing nothing but a pair of underpants.

He thought for a moment.

I can probably handle him. He’s quite strong, but I’m much bigger and taller, and I’m a man of action…

He stripped down to his underwear and huddled close to the fire, trying to dry his trousers.

He jumped when he noticed Old Gregg some distance away, watching him keenly, holding a big furry blanket in one hand, and a mug in the other.

Howard stared sullenly into the fire as the merman brought him the blanket, and handed him the mug.

“It’s hot Baileys. It’ll warm you up.”

“Thanks.” Howard muttered, avoiding Gregg’s eyes at all costs.

The Baileys slid pleasingly down his throat and filled his belly with warmth.

To his relief, Old Gregg merely sat on his haunches next to him, and watched the fire.

They sat in silence for a while, until Howard finished his drink and put down the mug.

“D’you want more Baileys, Howard?”

“No thanks, Gregg.”

Gregg stared at him shyly. “I like the way you say my name, Howard.”

Howard silently cursed the romantic nature of the situation, and tried not to feel too much sympathy for the fish-man.

He realised too late that Gregg was drawing closer to him, and gasped as he felt a cold, scaly hand graze against his chest.

“Gregg, don’t do that.”

But Gregg’s fingers were now circling his nipple – already stiff from the cold – and it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sensation.

“Gregg, I’ve already told you, I don’t feel that way about you.”

Two cold-blooded hands on his chest now, making him shiver as the webbed fingers tweaked his nipples.

Howard’s stomach was clenching painfully. He couldn’t let this happen… Not without a fight… He shouldn’t be giving in so easily.

There would be trouble if he let this happen.

But I’m stuck here anyway…

He flinched as Gregg’s hands caressed the soft skin of his belly, and Gregg stopped abruptly, looking at his face.

“Your cheeks are all red, Howard.”

Howard scowled defensively. “So… You’re cheeks are all green. You don’t hear me making a song and dance about it.”

Gregg looked strangely pleased at this. “I think you do love me. You let me touch you, and I made your face turn red.”

“No Gregg! I don’t love you! I’m sorry, but there it is.” He could feel himself flush even more at the ridiculousness of the situation he’d landed himself in.

Now would be the right time to move away, to put his damp clothes back on, to try and get out of this cave…

Gregg put his hand between Howard’s legs, and Howard half jumped out of his skin. As his damp crotch was pressed firmly into Gregg’s palm, he noticed with a sinking feeling the beginnings of an erection.

Gregg kept his palm where it was, even as Howard tried to writhe away in alarm.

Howard felt a thick wave of embarrassment as his dick became harder, and Gregg looked at him with those big, questioning eyes…

“That’s not you… making me… You just took me by surprise… that’s all…”

Gregg said nothing, just kept on staring at him.

Then, slowly, he slid his hand inside Howard’s underpants.

“No! Gregg, don’t.” Howard scrambled backwards, his underpants twanging back against him as he pulled away from the webbed hand.

“Why not, Howard? You want me to.”

Howard breathed hard. “No, I don’t, Gregg…”

Gregg crawled after him, so Howard caught hold of his shoulders and held him still.

Gregg reciprocated the gesture, and with a sudden burst of strength, pushed Howard down onto his back on the cold rock, and rested on top of him lightly, holding him down by the shoulders.

Howard looked up at the fish-man.

He could struggle his way out of this, but then one of them would probably get hurt.

But Howard thought he was beginning to understand the way Old Gregg worked.

So instead, he lay still for a moment, trying not to get too excited by the way the fabric of Gregg’s tutu was brushing against his erection.

When Gregg brought his face down, Howard swiftly leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss against the merman’s fishy lips, determinedly ignoring any responses from other parts of his body.

Gregg was stunned for a moment, and Howard took the opportunity to slide out from under him.

“Too fast, Gregg…” He said gruffly, as he stood up and tried to somehow hide his erection under his hand.

Gregg didn’t look disheartened. If fact, he was gazing up at him with scarily adoring eyes.

Oh damn…

Why is it that the first person to show any interest in me in years has to be a psychotic green merman with gender issues?

“Get dry Howard.” Gregg ordered excitedly. “I’m gonna make you dinner. We can sit down and eat it together, nice and slow, really get to know each other…”

Gregg scampered off again, presumably to prepare some food, although what kind of food Howard dreaded to think.

Howard wrapped the blanket around himself tightly and sat in the deck chair, willing his trousers to dry, and trying not to think about how easy it would have been to let Gregg have his way.

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