Moonstone Cowboy

Category: The Mighty Boosh

Characters: Bob Fossil, Dixon Bainbridge, Howard Moon, Naboo, Vince Noir

Pairing: Howard Moon/Vince Noir

Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, AU (Alternate Universe), Drama, Hurt/Comfort

Rating: NC-17

Warning: BDSM, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Murder, Smut (graphic sex scenes), Violence - Heavy, Unspecified Warning

Status: Complete

Length: 100-150k words

Notes: Back in 2015 I was given the idea by a fellow Booshlr on Tumblr to write a cowboy/western based Boosh fanfic. On the 8th June 2021 I finally finished. A lots happened in those years, but my love for Noel and Julian and the world of The Mighty Boosh has never ebbed. It’s to the Boosh I always turn when life gets a bit hard.

So my fic is very long, it’s very angsty, it’s a bit naughty and it’s a pretty silly, but I hope it offers something for everybody.

Over on the Moonstone Cowboy Tumblr there are some lovely sepia pics to get you in the mood for this western romp.

Thank you so much for stopping by. Love to you all. Worriedeye Xx

Word Count: 140,293

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[nextpage title=”Sheriff”]

Sheriff

Chapter Summary: Introducing Howard ‘The Buzzard’ Moon and Vince ‘The Electro-Kid’ Noir.

Vince arrives in the town by accident after a drunken night in the company of Cam and Den – the gender bending lead singers of the Wild West’s first steam punk band ‘Clockwork Guns’. After falling asleep in the back of a mail wagon Vince awakes to finds himself alone and penniless in the town of Moonstone. Wandering the street, looking for a friendly face, he suddenly spots Howard Moon.

It is here that their story starts…

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Vince cannot believe that the unkempt man sitting outside the saloon is his idol Howard ‘The Buzzard’ Moon. Not only does he look badly in need of a brush and shave, Howard also seems to be fighting a few internal demons. Vince watches for a while wondering if Howard will ever blink, but then his eyes are so small it’s hard to tell if they’re even properly open. How can this tiny-eyed man be such a dead-shot?

Eventually Vince decides he needs to introduce himself and so casually makes his way over and coolly slides onto the end of the bench. He takes a quick sideways glance at his hero, but Howard seems not to have even noticed him. This momentarily confuses Vince as he’s not used to going unnoticed anywhere. He decides to strike up some conversation, after all maybe Howard is just in some sort of cowboy music boot scooting bluesy trance.

“Hey Mister… Mister Moon… Mister Moon… Mister… Hey mister… Mister… Mister… can you hear me? Mister… Mister Moon… Mister… Mister… Oi Buzzard!!”

Howard’s head snaps around suddenly in response to his once beloved pseudonym, only to find himself staring into the largest blue eyes he’s ever seen. He shakes his head trying to awake from his daze, to make sense of what’s happening.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Vince. Vince Noir.” Vince stands and facing Howard puts his hands loosely on his hips. “They call me The Electro-Kid.”

A couple of seconds pass, Vince just standing there looking deep into Howard’s eyes, resting on one hip, heeled white boots turned slightly inwards and the suggestion of a pout on his lips. Howard shakes his head again. Is this a man? Howard’s not sure he’s ever seen a more beautiful creature.

A couple more seconds pass.

“And you’re Mister Moon right?” Vince breaks the silence. “Howard ‘The Buzzard’ Moon! I knew it as soon as I saw you. Man, you are one massive hero of mine. I know all your stories. How you foiled that bank robbery with a candlestick and some corn fritters. And how you stopped that runaway horse with a reworked verse of a lullaby. I know them all. You’re amazing!”

“Whoa there! Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want, but that’s not who I am anymore.”

“I said, I’m Vince Noir.”

“Yes, you said that, but where did you come from?”

“I came from the back of that mail wagon.”

“Mail wagon?”

“Look it doesn’t matter who I am, you’re Howard Moon. Blimey, I can’t believe I’m talking to The Buzzard.”

“Stop saying that!”

“What?”

“The B word. Stop saying that.”

“Blimey?”

“No Buzzard.”

“Buzzard?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because that’s not me anymore. I’m just Howard now. And I’ll kindly ask you to leave me in peace. I’ve got to go. It’s been nice and all, but I’ve places to be. I’ll bid you a good day Sir!”

Howard stands and moves to pass, but Vince puts his hand out to stop him. As their fingers accidentally make contact an unexpected surge of sparkling, tingling, pulsating energy stops Howard in his tracks. He impulsively turns once more to reconnect with the brilliant blue gaze. And it is clear that Vince is feeling something too. Howard notices the young man’s pupils dilating and a playful smile spreading across his face.

“I did tell you they call me The Electro-Kid.”

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know Howard, but I think I’d better come with you, that is to wherever it is you are going.”

Howard takes a deep breath and nods slightly before turning away and descending the steps back to street level.

With an agile leap and bound Vince is there right beside him.

Howard doesn’t really know what he is doing. He is heading home he supposes, but somehow he seems to have picked up a stray. A very exuberant and very talkative stray who is starting to give him a bit of a headache. Yet still, there is something rather magical about this stray, something, something…

“So whatchya think Howard? Just for a bit like, until I get back on my feet. Well it’s not that I’m off my feet, just that I fancy hangin’ around a bit. It’s not every day you meet a real life gunslinger. And I’m pretty good too you know. I’ve got a lot to offer. I just need a starting point is all. I think it would be genius. What do you reckon?”

Vince’s one hundred mile per hour patter suddenly breaks Howard’s train of thought.

“What?”

“Erghh, you weren’t listening were you? You drifted off. I can see you do that a lot. Maybe I’m good for you see. Maybe I could help you with that.”

“What are you talking about?”

Vince jumps in front of Howard putting a stop to his long-legged gait. Placing a hand on each of Howard’s shoulders, and on tiptoes, Vince’s face suddenly seems far too close to the bigger man’s.

“Ahh! Get off me. What’re you doing?”

“Howard, just listen a sec right. I’m trying to ask if I can stay with you for a bit. Me and you. Howard and Vince. What do you think?”

“I think you should get off me. People are staring.”

Vince looks around him. The street is deserted.

“There’s no-one staring. And anyway I’m just asking you a question. My goodness, you’re a jumpy one aren’t you.”

“Just don’t touch me okay. Never touch me!”

“Okay! Sorry!”

Vince takes a step backwards but remains in front of Howard. His head is down and suddenly he becomes, in Howard’s mind, like a hurt, scolded child. It is making Howard’s chest flutter. It is making him soften. It is making him feel protective and vulnerable all at the same time. Who the hell is this kid?

Vince risks looking up at Howard from beneath the brim of his hat. Huge, innocent pools of blue. Blue that’s pulling at every heart string in Howard’s body. Blue that’s making him go slightly giddy. Blue that he could dive into, deeper, deeper, deeper…

SLAP!

“What the…?”

SLAP! SLAP! “Howard. Howard.” SLAP! “Howard! Snap out of it you freak. What’s the matter with you?”

“Vince, stop. Stop! I’m fine. I’m fine!”

“You weren’t fine.”

“I know. Sometimes…I kind of…”

“You were looking at me well odd.”

“Sorry.”

“I felt like I was about to be eaten.”

Howard gives a wry smile.

“It’s not funny. I felt like a piece of meat Howard. You were staring at me. It was weird. I think you do need help. You’re not right in the mind-tank you. I reckon I might be that help Howard, but no funny staring thing, okay?”

“It’s just…”

“What?”

“You’re strange to me.”

“Thanks a lot. That makes me feel so much better.”

“No. I mean strange in a good way. I don’t know Vince. You’re hurting my brain, and yet, I can’t…you know…it’s so…”

“Please Howard try and string a sentence together.”

“You don’t know me. I’m dark Vince. I’m not always a good person to be around.”

“You’re darkness, I get it. You’ve got a past, fine. We’ve all got a few skeletons in our trunks ain’t we? If we’re being honest here Howard I can’t remember a bloody thing about last Tuesday. Neither can the girl. Or her friend. Or the blacksmith’s son. And there was this goat…”

“I don’t just mean regrettable one-night stands and liquor consumption Vince. I’m talking big, bad shit. Shit that rocks you to your very core, which wakes you screaming in the night. Shit that burns you up inside, makes you cry like a baby, makes you beg for mercy.”

“Sounds like when I ate some ten day old refried chili beans. Woah momma! Had me in a tricky way for a week.”

“I don’t mean the shits Vince. If you’re just going to be flippant.”

“I’m sorry Howard. It’s just if you’re darkness then think of me as a little bit of light, a little bit of sunshine here to brighten your day.”

Howard can’t help smiling again, but this time it’s less wry and more, well, happy. Maybe this kid is the answer he’s looking for. Maybe he is just what he needs, a distraction from his past and a stepping stone into his future. And there is definitely something about him. It felt like he already knew Vince somehow.

Howard takes a deep breath. In the space of roughly twenty minutes it seems he has somehow made a new friend. That hadn’t happened since Tommy……NO! Howard doesn’t want to think about Tommy. Not now. He wants to think about Vince and his offer of help. About his dazzling smile and forever eyes and childlike energy. He wants to think about how he can offer to fix him a bed for the night, get some food into him, give him a change of clothes. He wants to think of Vince and think of nothing else.

“So then little man, do you fancy kipping at mine tonight?”

“I thought you’d never ask Howard.”

“Here we are then.”

“Where?”

“Here. My home.”

“Howard, why does your home have jail written on it?”

“Well because it’s the jail obviously.”

“And the Sheriff doesn’t mind you living in the jail?”

“I am the Sheriff Vince.”

“What?”

“I am the Sheriff, at least technically. I never officially retired.”

“You’re the Sheriff?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Vince. The one and only.”

“Where’s your badge?”

“I don’t wear it anymore.”

“What? You can’t be a Sheriff without wearing a badge. That’s like saying you’re a horse without having hooves.”

“I don’t deserve to wear it Vince. The town deserves better.”

“What d’ya mean Howard?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. Why would you say something like that? You’re a big time hero. This town must be proud to have you as its Sheriff.”

“I was a hero, but that was a long time ago. Things change. People change. People forget.”

“But growing up all I wanted was to be you Howard. All I ever wanted was to be a hotshot like you.”

“We can all dream of being hotshots Vince, but can we really be hotshots?”

“What?”

“We can dream but what are dreams when there’s reality?”

“I don’t really know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about reality Vince. Dirty stinking reality. Reality, where bad stuff happens and people get hurt. Where good stuff happens and people still get hurt. Reality sucks.”

“Howard, I don’t really follow what you’re trying to say, but I do know one thing. Reality has brought me here somehow. It’s put me right slap bang in front of the one man I’ve always wanted to meet. It might get bad, who knows, but right now it’s pretty good, and as far as I’m concerned you’re the Sheriff of this town.”

“Vince you don’t understand…”

“You keep saying that, so help me understand. Get your miserable reality-bitten arse inside, pour me a drink and tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Vince I…”

“Now Howard!”

The two men enter the jailhouse, Howard first, Vince eagerly on his coattails. “Wow Howard, I like what you’ve done with the place.”

There is more than a tone of sarcasm in Vince’s voice.

The jailhouse is essentially exactly that, a jailhouse. There’s a desk, a couple of chairs, a hat-stand, a clock, a lamp or two, a mirror, a worn couch in the corner near a stove. And of course at the back of the place the standard two cell set-up. One empty save for a cot-bed and a bucket. The other crammed full of what looks like clothes and bottles, chests and blankets, skins and barrels, a wheel, a saddle, rope, a battered old piano. Just stuff. Lots and lots of stuff. And practically buried in the stuff Vince can just about make out another cot-bed. He points at the shambles of a cell.

“Is that where you sleep Howard?”

“Yep.”

“And what’s all that in there with you?”

“Lost property. Contraband. Deceased estate. You know.”

“Why don’t you sleep in the other cell?”

“In case I need it for a prisoner.”

“And when was the last time you had a prisoner in here?”

“About eight months ago. Amos, the town drunk. I caught him pissing against a cow.”

“Howard…”

“Yeah I know. It’s not exactly homely, but it is home. If you don’t want to stay then…”

“No Howard, I was gonna say thanks for letting me in. You’ve not much room here and I appreciate it. I can kip on the sofa over there. Keep that cell free yeah, just in case Amos turns up.”

“Sure. That’s fine. Great. I’ll grab some blankets. Get some grub on the go. Brilliant.”

“It’s alright. No need to fuss yeah. Now you got anything to drink in this place? I’m parched.”

Vince is already flopping onto the couch, strewing his arm lazily across the back, his expression relaxed and boyish. He looks totally comfortable in these surroundings, but then again Vince Noir always looks comfortable in his surroundings. One could say he wears his surroundings.

Howard watches as the younger man bows his head slightly and cocks it to the side. Vince closes his eyes and turns to meet a solitary ray of sunshine which is diffusing into the room through the smudged glass of the window. As the light hits him his whole face glows, playful golden shards dance across his dark hair and high cheekbones, and across the smile that’s settling on his lips. Howard’s breath catches in his throat as he steadies himself against the desk.

“Shit,’ he thinks to himself, ‘I need to get these feelings under control or this kid’s gonna run a mile.”

Still he can’t help watching.

Vince opens his eyes and catches Howard looking, but instead of reprimanding the Sheriff for breaking his ‘no staring’ promise so soon he steadily meets his gaze. He fixes Howard with it, rooting the bigger man to the spot. And in the unblinking of an eye Vince sees it. In those dark, intelligent, lacquered brown eyes he sees it so clearly. A deep-set longing. A longing for conversation maybe. A longing for friendship, for companionship.

A longing for affection.

Feeling suddenly a little disconcerted, and realising his face is starting to flush, Vince breaks eye contact first and motions instead towards a bottle he spots on a shelf.

“So?” he says, swallowing dryly, “How about that drink?”

“Drink. Yep. Absolutely. Good idea. Coming right up.”

Howard pivots on the spot. Deeply embarrassed and flustered he reaches across the desk. After much fumbling he manages to retrieve a glass and a mug from the top drawer. He goes to grab the bottle from the shelf then stops, looking awkward and too big for the small room.

“You gonna bring it here then?”

Howard takes down the bottle and turns to stand in front of Vince and the couch.

“You can sit down you know. I won’t bite.”

Howard lets out a nervous sounding ‘Hah’.

“I’ll squidge up.”

Vince moves along and pats the empty spot to the right of him. Howard sits quickly and focuses his attention on opening the bottle. He’s never felt so uneasy in his own house. He pours a good measure into the glass for Vince. He pours an even bigger measure for himself.

Vince turns and smiles at him. “You alright Howard?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah, I’m peachy.”

Both sit in silence for a bit, staring at the far wall. Vince tucks a stray strand of hair back up into his hat. Howard downs his drink.

Vince turns to look at him.

“You’re not alright really are you?”

Howard pours himself another.

“Howard. You can talk to me you know. I’m not much of an expert on stuff but I’m happy to listen. “

Howard downs his second.

“You know sometimes a problem shared is a problem halved. You wanna tell me why you’re not playing Sheriff properly anymore?”

Howard starts to pour himself a third, his hand shaking a little making the bottle clink against the rim of his mug. Vince reaches over and puts his hand across the top of the mug stopping the noise and halting Howard’s progress.

“Please Howard.”

Howard looks at Vince’s hand. He looks at the bottle. “I wasn’t really the Sheriff, I was the Deputy. I became the Sheriff by default when the first one died.”

Howard taps the bottle against Vince’s hand encouraging him to move it out the way. Vince does and Howard pours himself the third.

“Have you a best friend Vince?”

“I have mates yeah, of course.”

“I don’t mean just mates, I mean a real friend. Someone you tell everything to. Someone who you look up to and admire, and who admires you in return. Someone who can finish your sentences, watch your back, who’d give you everything they own if you needed it?”

Vince screws his face up in thought.

“Nah. I don’t really have someone like that. Maybe when I was younger, there was this kid James. His Dad was a great carpenter and he used to make James these really cool toys. We didn’t really have any money and I think James felt a bit sorry for me like, so one day he left one of his toys outside my house for me. Just outside of my window. It was a little wooden snake. His Dad had polished and smoothed it and painted it brown with yellow eyes. It had a little wooden tongue painted red. I accidentally snapped the tongue off one day and I was really upset. James just told me that it was okay, that it just meant the snake liked me and wasn’t hissing at me anymore. His family moved away in the end, but I’ve still got that snake. It’s one of the best things I’ve ever owned.”

Vince drops his head as he finishes talking. His shoulders sag slightly. Howard reaches for Vince’s empty glass and tops it back up. He pours himself a fourth.

“I’m sorry Vince.”

Vince looks up at him. “Why?”

“For you having no toys. For your mate moving away.”

“It’s alright Howard. It was a long time ago. Anyway, we’re not talking about me are we? Who’s this friend of yours then?”

Howard takes a long sip.

“Tommy the Cheese.”

“Tommy the Cheese?” Vince can’t help a smirk.

“Yeah, I know, it’s a stupid nickname.”

“It’s pretty stupid yeah. What, was he kinda yellow looking or something?”

“No. He just really liked cheese.”

“Oh right.”

“He was my best friend Vince. We did everything together. We practically made this town together. Him the Sheriff and I his Deputy. We were the best Vince, the best!”

“Of course, Sheriff Thomas Nookah. I’ve heard of him from the stories too. I’d forgotten, sorry.”

“I can never forget.”

Howard pauses to finish his drink. He considers pouring a fifth but his head is already feeling foggy. Instead he passes the bottle to Vince, successfully avoiding contact with the blue eyes he knows are boring into the side of his head.

“I used to be a man of action Vince, everyone’s go-to guy and a maverick. I used to swagger around this place with a gun on each hip and a contented grin on my face. I loved my job, I loved my Moonstone, I loved its people, but most of all, I loved Tommy.”

“You were in love with him?”

“No, not in love with him. I loved him, like a brother, like a comrade.”

“Like two soldiers missing their wives?”

“Yeah, if you want. Like two soldiers.”

“What happened Howard?”

“What happened is that Dixon Bainbridge came to town.”

“Dixon Bainbridge? Never heard of him. Who’s he?”

“He, Vince, is an evil bastard.”

Howard forcefully grabs the bottle back from Vince and takes a huge swig directly from it. “He’s an evil, pig-stinking, tummy-churning, son-of-a-bitch bastard and if I ever…if I can ever…so help me god if I ever…”

Howard slumps suddenly forward off the couch and onto his knees. Bottle still in his hand he looks at it momentarily before downing the last dregs and tossing it angrily across the floor. It scoots, it spins, it meets the wall, but it doesn’t smash.

“See what use am I? I can’t even break a stupid bottle. How am I ever gonna break Bainbridge?”

Howard shoves his face into his hands and goes still. Vince leans forward and gingerly puts a hand on Howard’s shoulder. The big man flinches but lets it rest there.

“Howard. C’mon. You’re doing great. Please sit back up here and tell me what this Bainbridge did.”

Vince knew he was pushing Howard a bit, but he also knew that with this much whiskey inside the Sheriff it was an opportunity to get him to open up. And boy did he need to open up.

Howard slowly reverses backward up onto the edge of the sofa. Keeping his head in his hands he starts to speak, quite flatly, quite matter-of-factually.

“Bainbridge arrived in town and we knew he was gonna be trouble as soon as we saw him. There wasn’t really anything we could do about him. It wasn’t like he was an obvious criminal, it’s just that he had a way about him. He set himself up in the rooms above the saloon, said he was in the prospecting business. Prospecting for what we didn’t know. Anyway, about two months after he arrived other bad blood started turning up too. Rough and tough sorts. They all seemed to be living in the saloon, or at least around there. A few things happened, some theft, some vandalism, and some missing underwear. Then one day a couple of his thugs walked into the bank, nice as you like, and robbed the place. Just went straight up to the counter and asked for the money. Poor Minnie Tinkler didn’t know what to do so she just handed it over.”

“What, they didn’t even have guns out?”

“No Vince, they just strolled up and asked for it.”

“Is that even robbery?”

“I’m not sure, but it can’t be right can it? Anyway me and Tommy, well we were a bit out of practice like. It had been five years since we’d run anyone out of town, and I hadn’t had to fire my gun even then. I knew these guys were going to be a big problem. I said to Tommy, I told him, we needed back-up and we needed a good plan. But Tommy was a proud man, a brave man. That night he just went and stood outside the saloon and shouted for Bainbridge to come out and meet with him. He said he wouldn’t leave until Bainbridge came outside, alone, to talk. But instead Bainbridge came to the upstairs window and invited Tommy in.”

“Did he go?”

“Oh yeah, he went alright. I was yelling at him not to be so reckless, but he just winked at me and walked straight in.”

“Did he come out again Howard?”

“He did Vince, but he came out a different man.”

“Whatchya mean? Did he come out with a make-over? I’ve seen that before. There’s this travelling stylist guy, he takes you behind a big screen and when you come back out he’s completely remodelled you. New hair, new clothes, the works. He’s a genius.”

“No Vince I don’t mean a new look. I mean he came back out with a different personality. He was broken, quiet, suppressed. I kept asking him what had happened but he wouldn’t tell me. He just kept saying that we were to leave Dixon Bainbridge alone, that he wasn’t really hurting anyone, and that Minnie Tinkler was the real culprit.”

“Did he arrest her?”

“No, but he sent her away and before I knew it one of Bainbridge’s cohorts was running the bank. An absolute idiot of a man called Bobby Fossil.”

“And Tommy never told you what happened in there?”

“No Vince, but Bainbridge must have blackmailed him or threatened him or something.”

“So what did you do Howard?”

“Something stupid Vince. I did something really stupid.”

Vince is unsure whether to ask again, but his curiosity is peaked and Howard clearly needs to confide in somebody. “Howard. What did you do?”

Howard moves back from the edge of the seat and turns to look at Vince. He looks directly into Vince’s eyes, this time a solid look. A deep, penetrating look. He has to know if he can trust this kid.

And Vince meets his inquisition front and square. Those blue orbs stare right back at him. There’s a slight frown of worry on his forehead, a slight parting of the lips as if a word is ready to leap from them, but there’s no judgement, no mocking, no pity. Just genuine concern. Howard feels a wonderful warmth move throughout his body. Of course it could just be the whiskey.

“Tommy began drinking Vince. And I let him. I was so angry at the situation, at Bainbridge and at Tommy for not telling me what had happened. I didn’t really care that he was getting sloshed every night. I was too caught up in my own frustrations. I moved into this place. I hardly slept, I hardly ate. Every moment I spent racking my brain trying to formulate a plan, trying to work out what Tommy must have agreed to. It was crazy Vince.”

“Sounds like you only were acting the same as any man would Howard.”

“Yeah, maybe, but I didn’t notice what was happening to my friend. As I say he started drinking morning, noon and night. At first he’d still come here, mooch about the place, and try to be nice to me. But I was so angry with him I pushed him away. Said I couldn’t stand it when he was drunk. Told him not to come in ‘til he’d sobered up. Well he didn’t sober up. He just drank more and more. In the end he spent all his days in the saloon. Within a month of that fateful night he’d become a joke. A drunkard dullard joke at the mercy of Bainbridge and his boys.”

“Their mercy?”

“They were cruel to him. They pushed him around, teased him, shot at his feet to make him dance. You know, bully antics. They’d taken a great man Vince, a great figure of a man and reduced him to shit.”

“Sounds awful Howard.”

“It was. By the time I realised that I’d let my friend down it seemed such an impossible task to rescue him from their clutches. I couldn’t find anything to pin on Bainbridge. I was at a loss Vince. I was completely out of ideas.”

Pausing Howard looks away. He needs a second or two. Vince gives it to him.

Howard reaches into the top pocket of his jacket and pulls something out carefully. He makes a fist around it and brings that fist up to his chin, closing his eyes as he does so.

Vince waits.

Howard takes a breath inwards and exhales slowly, eyes still closed. “One night I couldn’t take it anymore Vince. One night, sitting right where I am now, I decided I couldn’t take it anymore. My beloved town was falling apart and my best friend was a shambles. Nothing made sense.”

“Go on.”

“I grabbed a gun. I felt justified Vince. What Bainbridge was doing to Tommy amounted to nothing more than a slow murder in my book. I was the Deputy. I could make a murder charge stick, I could make anything stick. People liked me. It would be my word against his. I didn’t care, Vince. I downed a couple of shots, grabbed my gun and charged up to that saloon full of violence and righteousness and self-vindication.”

“Howard that’s…”

“It’s not Vince. It’s not understandable. It’s not excusable. It’s not justifiable. And it was utterly idiotic. I stormed into the saloon, gun in my hands, shouting for Bainbridge, demanding Bainbridge. Baying for his blood. He came of course. He came down the stairs, cool as ice, polished as glass he came. “Deputy,” he said, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Howard’s eyes open suddenly.

“He walked across the floor. I had my gun trained on him the whole time, but he just walked across the floor like he owned the place. Well he did own the place, but you know what I mean. He asked if I wanted a drink. I didn’t answer. He walked over next to Tommy who was half seated on a stool at the bar. Tommy had gone white as a sheet and was staring at me like I was a mad man. I was a mad man, but I was in control of my gun and I had it aimed right at Bainbridge’s chest. The arse asked me again if I wanted a drink, said it was his round and that I was welcome to join him. I was so angry Vince. He was making me so angry, walking around talking like he was mister big shot. I could feel my finger tightening on the trigger. Could feel myself tensing ready to take the shot. He started pouring himself a drink, he poured one out for Tommy. He was so arrogant, so full of himself. My finger tightened some more. I was seeing red. Bainbridge walked right up to Tommy and you know what he did? Can you guess what he did Vince? He walked right up to Tommy and said “You’ll join me won’t you Sheriff” and he tipped the drink right over Tommy’s head. Bainbridge’s goons were all laughing. Bainbridge was laughing. Tommy just sat there with the liquid dripping off his hair and down his face. He didn’t move, he didn’t blink, and he didn’t say anything. He just sat there, my best friend, humiliated and mocked like he was nothing. And I was livid. I took two steps towards Bainbridge, gun primed. To the right I saw his men go to their holsters but I didn’t care. I only had eyes for Bainbridge. I squeezed the trigger Vince, still walking forward, I squeezed that trigger with utter conviction.”

Howard had brought his hands up and out in front of him, mimicking taking aim, his hand still balled around the item from his pocket.

“I squeezed the trigger and in that same moment of the bullet leaving the barrel I suddenly met Tommy’s eye. I met Tommy’s eye because Tommy was no longer seated. He’d leapt up! He’d leapt up from his stool to jump in front of Bainbridge the moment that I had taken those steps forward. He’d leapt up as I’d pulled the trigger, before I pulled it. He’d leapt up Vince.”

Howard jerks his hands as if firing a pistol.

“Bang!”

Vince was holding his breath, not daring to make a sound.

“I was Howard ‘The Buzzard’ Moon, Vince, and The Buzzard never missed.”

Vince looks at the back of Howard’s head and takes a moment to absorb what he’s just been told. The Sheriff is still slumped forward on the edge of his seat, head in his hands, rocking ever so gently. Vince gets a sudden urge to give the big man a hug but thinks better of it. Probably not the right time.

If truth be told he could do with a hug himself. It had turned out to be a very peculiar day for him.

“Howard.” Vince speaks very gently. “If you need some space I don’t mind going out for a bit.”

Howard remains quiet.

“I don’t want you thinking I’m bailing because I’m not. I promise I’m here for you now. We can work this out together. Just figured you might want to be on your own for a bit, you know.”

Still nothing.

Vince shuffles forward on his seat and makes to stand.

“I might visit this saloon myself.”

Howard spins suddenly and grabs Vince’s chin forcing him to meet his gaze. Vince’s hat goes flying and Vince lets out an audible squeak, surprised as he is by the Sheriff’s sudden show of force. His blue eyes are huge and Howard sees a flash of fear race across them. He loosens his hold slightly, but keeps enough pressure to stop Vince from looking away.

“I’m going to say this once Vince, and once only. You stay away from the saloon you hear? You stay right away from that place. If I so much as catch you as even looking at it then, so help me, I’ll…

Vince is still staring at him with the most ridiculously innocent and wide-eyed expression. Howard drops his hand.

“I’m sorry Vince, but you’ve got to promise me you won’t ever go near the place.”

“But Howard I only…”

“Vince, goddammit I’m not kidding. You promise me, here and now, that you won’t go near the saloon.”

The two men stare at each other. Howard’s face is set in grim determination, his jaw locked in a sort of controlled anger. Vince still looks somewhat abashed.

“Vince, I mean it. Promise me.”

“Okay Howard.”

“Promise.”

“Okay, I promise. I won’t go near the saloon.”

“Seriously Vince, Dixon Bainbridge should not be messed with. If you go in there I’ve no idea what he might do to you.”

“I can look after myself Howard. I’m not a child.”

“They’d eat you alive.”

Both men finally look away from each other. Vince, rubbing his chin, retrieves his hat from the floor.

Howard, feeling now altogether sober and somewhat stronger from both his confession and his outburst, lifts his still fisted hand up in front of him and turns back to Vince. He has the young man’s attention.

“After I fired and Tommy fell to the ground I froze Vince. Bainbridge and his men surrounded me within seconds. Truth was I probably could have taken them all out, but I choked. I couldn’t take my eyes off my friend, couldn’t speak, and couldn’t move. Bainbridge and the others disarmed me and manhandled me out of the saloon. Then they threw Tommy out after me. The street was crowded. Word had got around that I’d entered the saloon, and then people had heard the shot. But as we were turfed out not one person came to help us. They were all so scared. Dixon Bainbridge walked forward, he stood at the top of the steps, pointed directly at me and he said, in front of everybody, “You’re my flunky now Deputy.” Then he turned on his heel and went back inside.”

“What a dick.”

“Yeah Vince, he is. Anyway I was still pretty much in shock, you know, but I crawled over to Tommy. I grabbed his head and begged him not to die. His eyes were still open but the light was fading fast. I could see he was going, but he grabbed my hand and with his last ounce of strength he pulled me closer to him.”

Howard finally opens his fist and pulls from it a long thread of what looks like wire.

“He pulled me towards him, pushed this into my hands, and with his dying breath said just three words to me.”

Vince notices Howard’s eyes welling up with the memory. He can’t help welling up a little himself.

“He said “I forgive you.”

Howard has given Vince chills. “Wow.”

“He was an incredible man Vince.” The Sheriff wipes his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“And what is that Howard? It looks like a cheese-wire.”

Howard glares intently at the piece of wire, shakes it a little, and then balls it back up and returns it to his top pocket.

“It is Vince. It was Tommy’s favourite possession. He went everywhere with it. He always said he felt naked without it, that he never wanted to be ill-equipped in the face of a good Gouda or Queso del Tietar.”

“And you carry it now for cheese too?”

“No Vince. I carry it now as a reminder.”

There is silence again following Howard’s remark. Vince simply does not know what to say or how to make any of it better. He desperately wants to offer some words of comfort, some extraordinary and ground-breaking words of wisdom. Unfortunately he just isn’t that kind of guy. His words of wisdom don’t reach much beyond what type of gun-belt to best match with a sombrero, or how to tackle a corset in the dark. He just hopes that being a good listener is enough.

It is Howard who breaks the silence first. Rising to his feet he turns sheepishly to Vince.

“You hungry little man? Thought I might fix up some food.”

Vince stands too and gives Howard his biggest, most reassuring smile.

“Sure Howard. Want a hand? I can’t really cook or anything, but I can stir.”

“No, I’m fine. I tell you what though, you’re probably wanting a change of clothes aren’t you? I haven’t got much to offer but you’re welcome to go through those chests back there.”

Howard points to his bedroom cell. “There may be something in there that’ll fit you.”

“Brilliant. If you’re sure then thanks. I do feel a little bit ‘yesterday’.”

Vince makes his way to the cell. He’s almost nervous to enter knowing it’s Howard’s bedroom. It feels a bit wrong. Still he really could do with a change of shirt.

He begins with the nearest trunk and reads the engraved plaque on the lid. ‘PROPERTY OF MONTGOMERY FLANGE – MOONSTONE PLAYERS THEATRE COMPANY’. “Cool. An actor’s chest.”

Vince opens the lid and starts rummaging through. He holds up a shirt, then a second, then a jacket.

“Nice cut. Turned cuffs. Missing a button, but wonderful sequinship.”

He holds up some trousers to his own waist and looks down at himself.

“Sweet. My size. How lucky’s that?”

He pulls out a hat, a belt, and some boots.

“It’s like everything was made for me. Wow. Thanks Montgomery.”

Vince tucks into a corner to change. He can hear Howard whistling some nondescript tune on the other side of the jailhouse and can’t help but smile to himself.

“Maybe I did make a difference after all.”

Howard stops whistling. “What’s that?”

“Nothing Howard. I was just saying these clothes aren’t bad at all.”

“You found something then?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Vince notices a mirror buried under a stack of ponchos and pulls it out. “Holy smoke,” he murmurs to himself, turning this way and that in front of his reflection, “I totally rock this look.”

Vince spots another trunk covered in a large velvet drape.

“Ooh, I wonder what’s in this one.”

Unlike the first, this trunk has no plaque. Vince opens it quickly hoping for another treasure find.

The trunk is full of clothes, but they belong to no actor. Vince pulls out a long, black shawl-like cloak and matching felt hat. Interestingly there seems to be a couple of bullet holes in the cloak. He puts them aside and pulls out a tasseled suede jacket, some brown strides and matching brown hat, a pair of two-toned boots, and a beautifully embroidered crisp white shirt that’s been lovingly pressed and folded. And finally, right at the bottom of the trunk, next to a worn leather gun holster, is a small wooden box. Vince opens it and inside are two rather dull-metallic star-shaped badges.

“Shit, this is Howard’s stuff.”

Vince hurriedly puts everything back as best he can remember finding it and closes the lid. He looks out through the bars to see if Howard has noticed, but Howard is busy taste-testing whatever’s on the boil. Vince goes to move away from the trunk, but then he has a second thought. He delves back to the bottom and finds the small box again. He opens it and studies the contents a little closer. One badge is slightly bigger than the other, is of a golden hue and says Sheriff. The other is more silver in colour and says Deputy Sheriff. Vince lifts out the Sheriff’s badge and closing the box pops it back into the trunk beneath the clothes. He holds the badge gently in the palm of his hand and affectionately runs his finger across the embossed wording. He takes the corner of the velvet drape and gives the badge a little polish before replacing the material across the trunk. He looks at Howard once more to make sure he’s going unseen, and then secretly stows the badge into the inner pocket of his jacket.

“So then Howard, what’s cooking?” Vince makes his way across the room and leans up against a post. “It smells pretty good whatever it is.”

“Just a little something my Mama taught me.”

Howard turns with a rather large pot in his hand, sees Vince, gapes, momentarily forgets how to stand, juggles the pot then slams it rather violently onto the table.

“Sorry Howard, did I make you jump?”

“Yes, no, it’s, you just…”

There’s a glint in Vince’s eye. He knows he looks good, but he didn’t quite expect this reaction. He feels slightly naughty teasing Howard this way, but he can’t help himself. He just can’t get enough of being admired. It’s like a drug to him. Strange he’s allowing it from an older man with no dress sense and some serious personal issues, but, ever since catching Howard’s eye earlier, and now that some of the serious doo-doo had been lifted from Howard’s rather broad chest, Vince thinks it’s time to have a little fun. He’s not sure he wants Howard. He definitely likes him, and he’s never been averse to sometimes messing around with his mates from time to time, but Howard is nowhere near his usual type. Still, no harm in a small dose of flirting. It will probably do Howard some good anyway.

“Where did you find those clothes?”

Howard’s voice comes out a little high and he quickly turns away to clear his throat. When he looks back he sees Vince is smiling at him.

“What?”

“Nothing Howard, you just seem a little tense is all.”

“Do I? Well I’m not. You just caught me off guard. I didn’t know an outfit like that was back there.”

“Do you like it?” Vince swings his hips, his tongue poking out from between his lips. “Fits me pretty well doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, sure, where was it from exactly?”

“An actor’s chest. Said Montgomery Flange.”

“Oh.”

“Is that a problem Howard?”

“No, no,” Howard picks up a cloth and starts frantically wiping up some invisible spillages. “He still lives in Moonstone is all.”

“Do you think he’ll mind? I can go ask him if you reckon that’s best. But then hang-on, if he’s still here what are you doing with his clothes? Is he a criminal or something?”

“No, nothing like that. Don’t worry he’ll be fine. It’s fine. I’ll sort it, he may not, might not…it’ll be fine.”

“Howard, you’ve gone a bit weird on me again. I can take the clothes off if you’d rather.”

“No! It’s okay, really it is. Like I say it was just a bit of a surprise seeing you spruced up like that. Monty won’t mind, I don’t mind. It’s all cool.”

“Shall we eat then?”

“Yeah. Sit yourself down.”

“You got anything else to drink?”

“What, oh umm, no.”

“That’s okay, I’ll just pop out and get some from somewhere.” Vince starts towards the door.

“No Vince, you can’t go out there.”

“What?”

“You can’t go out, not tonight, not yet. Wait until tomorrow yeah.”

“Howard, first you tell me I can’t go to the saloon, now you won’t let me go out on my own. Is Moonstone really that scary a place?”

“I don’t want you getting into any trouble.”

“I’ll keep my head down.”

“Somehow I think you’ll get noticed…” Howard points to Vince’s hat, to his body, to his legs. “Besides, the saloon is the only place you can get a bottle so…”

“That’s bullshit Howard, I saw liquor in that general store. Look I’ll take off the hat and coat.”

“Vince, that won’t help. It won’t help because you’re…” Howard pauses. He looks down at his feet.

“I’m what Howard?”

Howard looks up again and for what feels like the hundredth time that day finds those breathtakingly bright blue eyes. Howard finds himself smiling back at Vince.

“Because you’re new Vince. You’re bright and beautiful and brand-spanking new, and I’m not sure if Moonstone’s ready for you yet.”

“You’re having me on Howard?”

“A touch yeah, but mostly no.”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Others out there will.”

“But do you Howard?”

Howard’s smile wanes. In its place a nervous twitch forms at the side of his mouth. Vince notices it and in response starts to bite gently on his own bottom lip. Howard unconsciously licks his. Neither man looks away from the other. Vince is thoroughly enjoying the obvious reactions he’s causing in the Sheriff.

Howard’s palms are sweating and he goes to wipe them on his trousers, thinks better of it and balls them into fists instead. Vince runs a hand up the side of his own neck around to the nape. He sticks his chest out a little and gives his neck a little rub. Howard unfurls his right hand and runs the back of it across his forehead, then through his hair making it stick up slightly at the crown. Vince moves his hand back around his neck, across to his chin where he rests the side of his forefinger on his lips. He tilts his chin down towards his chest so he’s looking at Howard from beneath his brows. He’s still smiling playfully.

Howard crosses his arms and visibly clenches his entire body as if trying desperately to stop any involuntary body reflexes. He looks anything but comfortable, yet still he’s meeting Vince’s gaze. Vince decides to move this on one more notch and slowly turns his forefinger around until its tip is just between his lips.

Howard’s mouth opens as does Vince’s as slowly he pushes his finger into his own mouth, just up to the first knuckle. A bead of sweat forms on Howard’s temple and his neck is pinking. He uncrosses his arms, crosses them again, and then crosses his feet. Vince pulls his finger back out of his mouth with a small ‘pop’. Time to put Howard out of his misery.

“So, what are we gonna do about a drink then?”

Howard isn’t sure if he can move just yet.

“Howard?”

“I’ll go.”

“You sure. I honestly don’t mind.”

Howard pivots on the spot untangling his legs as he does so, happy to be out from under Vince’s gaze for the moment. He’s all too aware of the bulge at his crotch and hopes to god Vince didn’t notice.

“No, I’ll go. Besides I could do with some fresh air.” In one sudden stumbling swoop Howard is out of the door.

“Well that was interesting,” says Vince to himself as he replaces the pot onto the stove top. “Seems the Electro-Kid hasn’t lost his touch.”

Vince sits on one of the wooden stools and removes the Sheriff’s badge from his pocket. He holds it out in front of him and looks at it admiringly for a moment. He smiles again at the memory of what just happened between them, and flushes as he realises how aroused he is feeling because of it. He slips the badge back into his pocket and pats it fondly.

“O Howard Moon. What am I going to do with you?”

Howard isn’t breathing properly. He’d stumbled out of the jailhouse and, like some sort of beast, had half ran, half lumbered up the street. Now he’s tucked away along the side of Jean Claud & Jack T’s Barber Shop, both of his hands flat against the wall, his head lower than his shoulders, his body trying to steady his breathing, to stop his heart from racing, to tame the quivering. His eyes are screwed shut like he’s in pain. He is in pain.

“What the hell was that?” He mutters through gritted teeth, “What the hell?”

Howard opens his eyes, straightens and turns to put his back against the wall. The heaving in his chest slows. He takes a deep breath.

“Could he have been…?”

Howard shakes his head. He tips it back and looks up at the sky. His mouth falls open and his eyes are rolling back and forth as he replays what just occurred through his mind.

“Did that just happen? I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading into it. But he just stood there. He definitely did something with his mouth, with his finger. He did, didn’t he?”

He palms his forehead with his right hand, gives his brow a rub.

“I dunno, I dunno, I dunno. He’s just a kid. Or is he? It’s hard to tell. Maybe he’s not as young as he looks. Fuck. I dunno.”

Howard pushes himself off of the wall. His legs still feel a bit wobbly, but he’s mostly back to full composure. That is aside from the fairly indecent images running through his brain.

Howard knows he can’t stay away all night, but he needs a nerve calmer. He looks across the street at the saloon, The Salty Bullet. The warm glow at the windows beckons him. He pulls his shoulders back, takes one more deep breath and strides towards it, up the steps and through the swinging doors. A quick scan tells him there’s no sign of Bainbridge and for that he can at least be thankful. Not that Bainbridge tends to frequent the bar itself, preferring to have drinks delivered to his rooms. Howard does spot two of Bainbridge’s heavies playing cards at a table though. They make eye contact but the men carry on with their game without interest. They’re used to seeing the Sheriff in here.

Howard approaches the bar and greets Chalky, the proprietor of The Salty Bullet. Also at the bar is Monty Flange, the ex-actor whose clothes Vince is now sporting back at the jailhouse. The image of Vince leaning up against the post in that outfit, lightly licking his lips and staring at him with those blue…Howard shakes his head again.

“Are you okay my boy? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”

“Oh, I’m fine Monty.”

“Really?”

“You do look rather pale Howard,” adds Chalky placing a glass in front of his friend, “Something happened?”

“Not happened as such. I’m fine Chalky, really. Thanks.”

Chalky pours Howard a good measure, adds a tot to Monty’s glass and then moves away to serve another patron.

Monty puts a hand on Howard’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re alright? You can tell me you know.”

“I’m not really, no. Let’s move to a table yeah. Chalky’s great but…”

“I know Howard. He’s not like us.”

The men move to the far side of the saloon, as far away from any prying ears as possible. They lean-in across the table.

“I’ve kind of met someone.”

“Met someone? In Moonstone? Who’s there to meet here? You know everyone.”

“Someone new. I don’t really understand how he arrived, something to do with the mail wagon, but he’s here Monty, he’s real and he’s here and he’s all kinds of perfect.”

“You feeling the hots boy?”

Howard smiles. “Yeah, I guess, but it’s more than that. I feel like I know him, like I’ve met him before or something. I dunno. We touched earlier by accident and it was like this shock went through us. It was weird, weird and wonderful and frightening as fuck.”

“I’d like to meet him. He sounds delicious.”

“He is. He’s been in my life no more than a couple of hours and yet he suddenly feels like the most important person in it.”

“Love at first sight?”

“Don’t be stupid Monty.”

“Why’s that stupid?”

“Because I don’t believe in that. Besides with him being a man and me being a man, well, it’s not right.”

“It’s right if it feels right Howard.”

“He probably doesn’t think so.”

“That shouldn’t stop you being able to fantasize though should it?” Monty gives his most devilish grin and wiggles his eyebrows. “He doesn’t need to know what’s going on inside that filthy mind of yours.”

Howard blushes.

“See, you have been having naughty thoughts. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Not for now anyway. Just wait and see. Like you say you’ve only just met him.”

“That’s the trouble, I think he already knows.”

“You never were a very good liar.”

“Nope. And now I’ve probably scared the kid half-way across the plains.”

“You gonna tell me his name then?”

“Vince. Vince Noir.”

“Noir? No, can’t say as I’ve met any Noirs. Did you say he was a kid?”

“No. Yes. Well not really. He’s just kind of…innocent. Actually I’ve a favour to ask. Vince hasn’t got any clothes with him and he found your chest and got himself dressed in one of your old stage costumes. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is, as long as he doesn’t look better than I do in it.”

“I can’t promise that’s the case.”

“Really?”

“Sorry.”

“Oh well. I will get to meet him though won’t I? You’re not going to keep him all to yourself?”

“If I haven’t frightened him off then of course.”

“What you gonna do about Bainbridge though?”

At the mention of his adversary’s name Howard stiffens. He downs his drink and stares into the empty glass for a moment.

“Bainbridge is going to find out Howard. He’ll find out and he won’t like it. You realise no-one ever comes to town without Bainbridge’s permission.”

“I know Monty, I know. For the moment I’ve got Vince holed up at the jailhouse. I’ve told him never to set foot in here. Asked him not to leave the house tonight. I can’t keep him locked away indefinitely though can I?”

“As much as you’d like to.”

Howard blushes again. “That’s not helping.”

“Apologies, my boy.”

“How should I deal with Bainbridge though? What if they want to try and hurt him or kick him out of town? What then?”

“I think you should deal with that particular bridge when it pops up Howard. No doubt something will happen, but tonight at least go back to that jailhouse of yours and try to relax. Deal with Dixon Bainbridge tomorrow. And if there’s anything I can do…”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Well you can show me some of that appreciation by introducing me to this Vince Noir in the morning can’t you. I’ll be at the barbers around ten. You bring him along.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Bainbridge will happen sooner or later so it might as well be sooner. Get it out the way. Plus you’re still the Sheriff. Maybe it’s time you reclaimed that title.”

“Funny, Vince was saying something similar.”

“There you go then. It’s one way for you to impress this kid.”

“I’m not looking to impress him. Right now I’m just happy for the company. Plus I want to keep him safe.”

“Keeping him safe is cute, but of course you want to impress him. Now get your butt back there and start doing so.”

Howard blushes for a third time. “Okay, cheers Monty.”

The Sheriff rises from the table and returns to the bar.

“Can I get a bottle to go please Chalky?”

“Sure.”

The barman hands one over and they share a goodbye.

Howard walks out the door with a ‘so long’ to Monty. He’s back down the steps and heading towards the jailhouse before he knows it. His heart-rate has increased again, a heady mix of nerves and excitement and trepidation. Trepidation of all that’s been said, of whether Vince will still be there, of how he’s going to deal with Bainbridge in the morning, but mostly the trepidation of seeing Vince in that outfit again and being back in the presence of his glow.

The Sheriff falters as he reaches the jailhouse. He looks towards the window but apart from the soft gold of the interior lights there’s nothing to suggest anyone’s inside. He reaches for the doorknob and murmurs to himself ‘please, please’ before slowly pushing it open.

He lets out his breath and grins. There he is, Vince Noir, laid back in a chair, feet up on the table, arms crossed, hat pulled down over his face. Howard notices the steady rhythm of Vince’s chest rising and falling, and can hear the gentle sounds of his slumber.

Howard also notices the bubbling pot and crosses to the stove to remove it. He touches the handle. “Ouch!”

Vince jolts awake, leaps up and starts straightening his clothes.

“Shit Howard you made me jump.”

“Sorry, I burnt myself. Bugger that hurts.”

“Where? Let me see.” Vince crosses to the stove and reaches for Howard’s hand. Howard flinches away.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Don’t be a dumbass. Here, let me take a look.”

“It’s fine, honestly.”

“Howard, for goodness sake.” Vince reaches again, this time successfully grabbing Howard’s sleeve. He turns the hand over and spots an angry red welt at the base of Howard’s thumb. “Ooh, that looks painful. No skin off though.”

Vince grabs a clean cloth from the sideboard and rinses it in the water jug. He moves back to Howard and gently wraps the cloth around the Sheriff’s hand. Howard winces.

“C’mon you big lummox. It’s not that bad.”

They stand there for a second or two, Howard’s hand still resting in Vince’s smaller one. Vince doesn’t look up. He can feel Howard staring at the top of his head. Somehow too he can sense Howard’s quickening pulse and he imagines the blood running through the Sheriff’s wrist and out to those fingers, those fast-as-lightning fingers. With the lightest of touches he sweeps his own thumb across Howard’s bandaged palm. Howard lets out a near silent sigh. Near silent! Vince lets go of his hand and moves back to the table.

“So, you got that drink then?”

The Sheriff’s staring at his own hand.

“Howard? The drink.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Here.”

Howard passes Vince the bottle and turns back to the stove.

“Careful, don’t damage the other one.”

Howard smirks and serves two portions into bowls. Vince pours a couple of measures and both men sit opposite each other at the table.

“This is good, really good.” Vince is hungrily gulping down the meal. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday I just realised. Can I grab some more?”

“Yeah of course.”

Vince moves to the stove. With his back to Howard he serves up a second helping.

“Howard?”

“Mmmm?” Howard’s mouth is too full to reply properly.

“I was wondering. How do you feel about wearing your Sheriff’s badge again?”

Howard stops chewing. He looks up but Vince hasn’t dared turn around yet.

“I just thought, that with me here to help, you might want to retake up the mantle so to speak.”

Howard doesn’t answer so Vince turns to look at him. The big man is frowning, but not at him, more at the idea. Vince decides to keep going. He walks back to the table with his bowl, his free hand reaching into his inner pocket.

“I didn’t mean to pry, but when I was looking through the clothes earlier I came across this.”

Vince pushes the freshly polished Sheriff’s badge across the table. He keeps his fingers on top of it as if ready to whip it back away from Howard if need be.

Howard frowns at it, looks up, frowns at Vince, then looks back at the badge.

“I took it from the box Howard. I’m sorry if that was wrong. It’s just I really wanted to clean it up for you, and in all honesty I’d really like to see you wear it again.”

Vince still has his fingers on top of the badge. In one sudden quick move Howard grabs Vince’s hand, and consequently the badge too, and he drags it closer to his side of the table. Vince is at full stretch but he doesn’t pull back or squirm. He doesn’t quite find any words either.

Howard tucks his own fingers under the cuff of Vince’s jacket and then pulls back, delicately running his finger-tips down Vince’s lower forearm, wrist and hand causing Vince’s arm hair to partially stand on end. He continues the trail across Vince’s knuckles and then slides down each of Vince’s fingers to the tips of his nails. He makes a series of small circles across the nail of Vince’s middle finger which produces a tiny shudder in the smaller man. Then impulsively Howard reaches across the table and puts his hand softly against Vince’s cheek. He looks the young man directly in the eyes and says simply,

“Thank you Vince.”

Howard retrieves the badge from under Vince’s grip and stands.

“And now if you don’t mind I could do with a little time alone, just to have a bit of a think. Is that okay?”

Vince can only manage a whisper in reply, “Of course it is Howard.”

Howard moves to his cell and pulls across a makeshift curtain that Vince hadn’t noticed before. The noise of springs give away Howard’s laying down upon his cot-bed.

Vince remains seated for a couple of minutes, eyes closed, rubbing the spot on his cheek where Howard touched him. Eventually he too stands, puts the bowls to the side and gathers up the bottle. He moves to the couch, reclines with a full glass and says to himself with a bemused smile,

“Reckon I’m going to have to drink a few of these to get any sleep tonight.”

---

[nextpage title=”Proximity”]

Proximity

Howard is standing at the foot of the couch. He’d gotten up early and had planned to go out and get some food for them both before Vince woke, but his journey to the front door had been impeded by the sight that lay before him now.

Vince is deep in slumber, his head propped up slightly on an array of cushions. His feet are bootless and crossed at the ankles. His arms are at his side, shirt sleeves rolled up, and hands lightly resting on his hip bones. The flashy white jacket Vince was adorning yesterday has been discarded onto the floor, along with the now empty bottle of whiskey. The black bejewelled shirt he is wearing contrasts with the beautiful pallor of his skin. Howard can’t help but run his eyes across Vince’s exposed chest and semi-exposed stomach where buttons have been left undone. There is a soft patch of chest hair nestled into the dip of Vince’s sternum, and an even more enticing trail of hair running from his belly-button down to the waistband of his trousers. Howard involuntarily licks his lips. He puts his hand out before him and with his fingers strokes the air as he visualises touching this trail. He imagines placing the lightest of kisses along it.

Vince’s hat is hanging off one of the cushions to his right. His head is also inclining to the right, his brow smooth as he lies in a state of absolute peace. His mouth, having fallen open ever so slightly, reveals a fullness to his lips that Howard’s not noticed previously, and his subtle cupid’s bow is highlighted by a shadow of facial hair across his philtrum and upper lip. The strangely angular nose and high cheekbones are softened in the morning light. It gives Vince an ethereal quality which makes something in Howard’s stomach quiver.

Vince’s hair has fallen away from the side of his face, exposing to Howard strong, dark sideburns, quite a masculine frame to the angelic pale-skinned features. The hair has also dropped away from Vince’s long, slender neck. It takes all of Howard’s strength to fight the urge to rush over and suck at the delicate spot beneath his ear, to nuzzle at the downy hairline of his nape.

Howard can hear Vince’s light breaths, the only thing audible in the silence of the room save for the sound of his own quickened pulse vibrating in his ear. Vince’s breaths are easy and steady and uncompromised, his chest rising and falling gently in unison. Every so often Vince’s long, dark eyelashes flutter and Howard wonders what dreams fill this handsome head.

Howard stands there feeling a little guilty for this invasion of Vince’s privacy, but he can’t seem to tear himself away. He wonders if there’s a name for people who get aroused by seeing others sleep. He remembers the story of Little Briar Rose and the sleeping princess, and he thinks that the Brothers Grimm may once have found themselves in a similar real-life situation before they penned their version of it. Howard can see why such experiences lead to the creation of the most valuable pieces of art and literature. To successfully capture the essence and innocence and beauty of someone like Vince Noir in repose could only end in a masterpiece.

As Howard’s mind plays and swirls around these ideas of expression and aesthetics a gentle moan leaves Vince’s lips. Howard is lifted out of his musings and he holds his breath, scared that he might be caught in his near illicit spying, but nevertheless immobilised.

But Vince doesn’t wake up. Instead he softly sighs and the edges of his mouth lift into a dreamy half-smile. His eyelashes flutter again, the smile widens and a chuckle escapes his throat.

The Sheriff makes out one word through Vince’s husky laugh and has to mentally pinch himself.

“Howard.”

Vince wakes to the sound of humming. He rolls onto his side and opens his eyes just a crack. It takes his mind a moment to remember where he is, and then a moment longer to remember the nearly full bottle of liquor he consumed the night before. He winces aloud.

“Ah you’re awake. Good. Here.”

Howard is suddenly at his side with a mug in his hand. Vince sits up gingerly and takes it from Howard’s grasp.

“Thanks.”

Vince blinks and squints several times to get his eyes to focus, then yawns and then takes a sip of his coffee. Howard sees him and chuckles.

“You kept going I see.” Howard nods towards the bottle that is now sitting empty on the table.

“Yeah, I guess. I needed a little help getting to sleep.”

“Well get that coffee down you and come and have a bite to eat. I’ll soon have you back up and running.”

It’s only now that Vince realises he can smell warm bread. It gives the jailhouse an almost homely ambience. He stands slowly and makes his way to the table.

“Thanks for looking after me. You’re quite the cook aren’t you?”

“I’ve had to look after myself for many years. It’s nice to have someone else to do it for though.”

Howard puts a plate in front of Vince and tops up the younger man’s coffee mug.

“You’d make a great dad Howard.”

Howard stops what he’s doing and frowns to himself. He turns to reply but luckily Vince is already tucking into his meal. Howard doesn’t really want Vince seeing him as a father figure. That would make it less likely he’d ever see him as a…

“You’re wearing your badge!”

Vince breaks Howard’s train of thought. He’s looking at the Sheriff with the biggest grin Howard has ever seen, and those amazing blue eyes are sparkling with what can only be perceived as genuine happiness. Howard can’t help but grin back.

“Yeah. You kinda got me thinking last night. Well you and Monty.”

“Monty?”

“Montgomery Flange, the one whose clothes you are wearing.”

“Oh yeah. When did you see him?”

“Last night when I went out. I bumped into him in The Salty Bullet. We had a bit of a chat about you actually. I said I’d introduce you to him this morning.”

“Yeah cool, if you’re sure he doesn’t mind about the clothes. What were you doing in the saloon though, I thought you said we shouldn’t go in there?”

“No, I said you should never go in there.”

“Hang on a minute…”

“Look Vince, there’s something I need to tell you.”

All of a sudden Howard’s voice has taken on a very serious tone. Vince’s eyes widen making him look even more innocent. Howard shakes his head and wonders how he’s going to keep this young man out of trouble.

“Vince, I told you about Bainbridge, but I don’t think I made it fully clear how much power he wields in this town. A little time after Tommy died Bainbridge got himself elected mayor of Moonstone. Not that it was a proper election of course. There wasn’t even a position of mayor going, he just made it up. It means he pretty much controls everything though, and that includes who comes and who goes in this town. If you want to reside here then you have to have a meeting with Bainbridge first and agree to his terms and his taxes. If you want to leave you have to ‘pay out.’ You, Vince, are not authorised to be here.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh indeed.”

The two men sit in silence. Howard has his hands around his mug, watching Vince push food around his plate. The younger man looks up at Howard after a minute, his eyes still wide.

“Is that why you’ve never left?”

Howard sighs. “Sort of yeah, but it’s more than that. If I leave then I can never avenge Tommy. Plus I do what I can to help protect the citizens of Moonstone. There are still many good people here.”

“What do you think he’ll do when he finds me here? Will he boot me out?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I think maybe we need a cover story for you. That’s the reason I’m taking you to see Monty this morning. He’s an actor, he might be able to help create something for you. Make up a back story, you know. That’s if you do definitely want to stay for a bit.”

Howard looks away after this last line, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed.

“Of course I want to stay. I’ve only just got here. Besides me and you’ve got a whole lot of things to do.”

“Things to do?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a shoddy mayor to bring to justice.”

“Okay Vince. The coast looks fairly clear.”

Howard is peeking out of the door of the jailhouse. Vince is standing ready behind him. Howard had tried to insist he wear something less conspicuous and had offered a pair of woollen trousers and shabby old duster coat. Vince had flatly refused saying that he’d rather be dead than be spotted wearing them. Consequently he is still dressed in most of Montgomery’s costume.

“So stick close to the buildings and stay behind me alright. If I stop you stop. Don’t talk to anyone, don’t make eye contact with anyone, and don’t touch anything. Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for ten minutes. Can we just go?”

“I’m just trying…”

“…to protect me. Yes I know Howard, you’ve told me that twenty times already. Now can we go please?”

With one last look in all directions Howard is out the door gesticulating to Vince to follow suit. Vince calmly strolls out the door shutting it behind him. It would be incorrect to assume Vince isn’t nervous because he is. He is determined not to let Howard see those nerves though. The Sheriff is tautly strung enough.

“Okay then, the barbers is at the other end of the street across from the saloon. Let’s move.”

Howard and Vince stride quickly and purposefully along to the barber’s, keeping tucked into the shadows as much as possible. They arrive quickly and without incident. In fact the whole street is pretty quiet and seemingly devoid of any of Bainbridge’s gang. Howard takes a peep through the barber’s window and spots Monty seated in an overstuffed leather armchair at the rear of the shop. One of the barbers, Jean Claude is also inside, busy sharpening his razor. As Howard enters Jean Claude nods a hello and departs the room.

“Where’s he going?” asks Howard of Monty.

“I told him we needed to speak in private. Jean Claude understands.”

That is true. As two of Moonstone’s original residents Jean Claude and his brother Jack were no more in support of Bainbridge than Howard, it’s just that they’d rather not get involved.

Howard cautiously moves further into the room. As he does so Vince steps out from behind him. He moves towards Monty, his trademark grin on his face and hand out in greeting. Monty’s jaw drops, but Vince doesn’t seem to notice. Howard does though and smiles to himself. He’d clearly not been exaggerating the force of Vince’s ‘impact’.

“Alright. You must be Mr. Flange. Nice to meet you. I’m Vince, Vince Noir. Thanks for letting me borrow your threads.”

“That’s absolutely fine my boy. And my goodness how well you wear them. Now do I a favour would you lad and just go lock the door there? Pull that shutter across a little too.”

As Vince turns towards the door Monty makes eye contact with Howard and mouths a “wow” at the Sheriff. Howard replies with a “told you.”

Howard pulls up a couple of chairs and he and Vince join Monty. The Sheriff perches apprehensively whilst Vince drops into his and immediately curls his legs up under him.

Howard starts, “Monty. I’ve told Vince about Bainbridge, about his rules on visitors. He’s said he wants to stay a while and I’d like to help him out with that. What we need therefore is a backstory, and I thought with your knowledge of books and plays you might be able to concoct one.”

Monty looks at Vince and finds himself drawn into the lad’s eyes. He can definitely see how Howard’s been so easily hooked.

“You really want to stick around boy?”

Vince nods eagerly. “Yeah, for a bit at least.”

“You don’t have a home to be getting back to?”

“Not exactly no. I tend to wander, picking up work where I can.”

“No wife then?”

Vince grins sheepishly. “I don’t think I’m really the marrying type Sir. I don’t really know what husbands are supposed to do.”

Monty looks at Howard.

“You’re wearing your Sheriff’s badge I see. Better late than never Howard.”

“For much good it will do me.”

“Well Howard, it’s given me a thought.”

“What?”

“It needs fleshing out a bit, but what if you make Vince here your Deputy?”

Silence.

Vince looks at Howard. He raises his eyebrows in question. “Howard?”

“Wouldn’t that just be putting Vince further into the line of fire?”

“Better hidden in plain sight. Plus Bainbridge might be a twisted bastard but he’s not stupid, he’ll not act out unless he feels really threatened.”

“I dunno, it still doesn’t explain how he got here though does it? How did I find him?”

Howard and Monty both look at the floor in thought, the former rubbing his chin, the latter rotating his cane by its silver tipped handle.

“Can I say something?”

Vince uncrosses his legs and stands. He moves to a mirror, removes his hat and fluffs his hair before replacing the hat and coming back to lean over the top of the chair.

“I reckon I should still say I came on the mail wagon ‘cause that’s what I did. I didn’t know about Bainbridge’s rules, I just bummed a ride. A wannabe Deputy Sheriff looking for a job”

Monty responds.

“Why Moonstone?”

“Because Howard Moon lives here. Lots of peeps my age have heard of Howard Moon. He’s sorta famous.”

Monty looks at Howard.

“Kid’s got something there Howard. You did have quite a reputation back in the day. It isn’t an unlikely story that someone like Vince could want to meet you and be schooled by you.”

Vince nods in agreement.

“That’s right. In fact it’s all absolutely true, besides me ending up here by accident of course. That was just pure luck. If I’d have known that wagon was destined for Moonstone though I’d have jumped on it anyway.”

“Well not lying at all would be the easiest thing I suppose.” Howard scratches at his stubbled cheek. He’s not yet convinced. “How do I explain to Bainbridge that I need a Deputy?”

“You say this kid came knocking at your door asking for a job and you’re giving him a trial because you feel a bit sorry for him.”

“Yeah. We can say I turned up here with no clothes, no money, and no food, just like I did. Say you took pity on me just like you did.”

“Tell him that this kid isn’t very bright really. Play down Vince’s intelligence. Tell him he’s a harmless innocent soul and that he’ll be no bother to anyone. That you’ll get him doing some of the shit jobs like repainting signs and chopping firewood.”

“I can do that for you anyway. I’m pretty handy with a paintbrush.”

Howard turns to Vince who’s still leaning over the back of the chair. “Come and sit down again.”

Vince does. He can see Howard has something serious to add. Howard looks at Monty and then directly at the young cowboy.

“If we do this Vince I want you to promise me one thing.”

Vince nods. “I’ll try, what is it?”

“If anything starts to go wrong, if you feel you’re in danger of any sort, you take my horse and you get the hell out of here.”

“Sure.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“And you still stay away from The Salty Bullet as much as possible. If we go in then we go in together.”

“Sure. We go in together.”

“Monty.”

“Yes Sheriff?”

“We never had this chat. I’ve only introduced you today because I’m asking if Vince can borrow some of your clothes. This makes sense as Bainbridge knows we are mates, and clearly you’re more Vince’s size than I am.”

“Sure. It’s hardly a lie at all. I’ll be acting out fact not fiction. Easy.”

“Well then I reckon we need to get this show on the road. You ready to go meet Bainbridge Vince?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be I guess.”

“Okay then. Next stop the saloon.”

“Oi Moon!”

The booming voice comes from behind them.

“Shit!”

“Howard?”

“Shit, shit, shit!”

“Howard, is that him?”

“Moon!” the voice booms again, “Where are you going Moon?”

Howard and Vince have already stopped in their tracks in the middle of the street.

“Just turn around slowly Vince, follow my lead and stay behind me.”

They turn back to face where they had just come from, and immediately spot Bainbridge standing on the veranda of the grain store located next to the barbers. Vince tucks himself in behind Howard’s shoulder as Bainbridge descends the few steps to street level. He walks aggressively towards them, finger pointing directly at the Sheriff.

“I asked you a question.”

“I was just on my way to see you Bainbridge. How the devil are you?”

If Howard was nervous then there was not a hint of it in his voice. Vince is impressed that he can’t pick up even the slightest waver in Howard’s tone. He himself is feeling a little queasy. However he can’t stay hidden behind Howard the whole time, which would be ridiculous. And anyway, surely Bainbridge has already seen there were two of them. Vince takes a deep breath and steps from out behind Howard’s tall frame.

“What the..?”

Bainbridge takes a step backwards in surprise..”.Who the hell are you?”

Vince swallows. “I’m Vince Sir, Vince Noir. Some call me the Elec…”

“I don’t give a toss what some call you. What the hell are you doing in my town?”

Howard puts his arm protectively in front of Vince, keeping him back.

“Bainbridge, that’s what I, well we, were coming to see you about. Vince here arrived on the mail wagon late yesterday evening. Came looking for me as it turns out. Seems I have a fan. I thought I’d give the lad a job. This kid’s looking to learn the ropes as a Deputy Sheriff. I was just coming to clear it with you. I’m not trying anything underhand here.”

“What the hell is he wearing? I thought it was that flouncing actor friend of yours.”

“They are Monty’s clothes yes. It seems Vince here arrived on a bit of a whim and forgot to pack a case.”

Vince pushes Howard’s arm away and steps forward again. He puts on a wide-eyed look and goes for the most slow-witted sounding voice he can think to muster up.

“Mr. Mayor Sir. I’ve always wanted to be a Deputy Sir, and when I realised there was a wagon coming to Moonstone I just had to come and meet Mr. Moon here. My daddy used to tell me stories about him and I just wanted to meet him so bad. I didn’t even think about clothes sir, I just jumped straight onto that wagon without a care.”

Bainbridge looks back at Howard frowning. Howard takes a step or two towards the Mayor.

“Can I have a quick word in your ear Bainbridge?”

The two men walk slightly away from Vince.

“Look, this kid just turned up at my door. I didn’t plan it. Neither did he by the sound of it. I don’t think he’s got any family, and he’s harmless enough. I don’t want any trouble with you okay. I’m going to make him my Deputy, just as an honorary thing like, to make the kid feel good about himself. Then I’ll get him doing some manual labour, take care of my horse, keep house, that kind of stuff.”

“You know what, it’s about time you found yourself a wife.”

“That’s not it at all Bainbridge, how dare you.”

“Oh get over yourself Moon. Remember, I know your dirty little secrets. Are you trying to tell me you’ve just taken pity on this Vince? Bullshit. And look at you in your badge. How long’s it been since you last wore that? Trying to impress him are you Sheriff? Bet you got him to polish it for you too.”

Howard flushes slightly at the near accuracy of Bainbridge’s reproach.

“You know what Moon, you are pathetic. You make me sick. Go ahead, have your little stable boy fun. Why do I care? If it keeps you out of my way then all the better.”

With that Bainbridge brushes past Howard and walks directly over to Vince. He stands right in front of him and stares directly into his eyes. Vince tries to make his expression as innocent and gormless as possible.

“I’m watching you lad, you understand? You put so much as hair out of line…”

They stare at each other for a few seconds more before Vince finally drops his gaze. With that Bainbridge pushes him to the side and strides into the saloon, the swing doors nearly jumping off their struts as he forcefully pushes them open. Howard walks back over to Vince.

“Come on little man. Let’s just go.”

“So did that work Howard?”

“For now yeah, I think so.”

The two men start back towards the jailhouse.

“What did he say to you Howard?”

“Nothing really. He just seemed to buy it that you’re a bit, sort of, unthreatening.”

“I thought I acted that quite well actually.”

“Yeah, well if you will go around wearing sequin shirts and a silly grin I guess you’re going to fool a lot of people.”

“Never judge a book.”

“I try not to Vince.”

The men walk silently for a bit, both pondering the morning’s events. As they reach the door of the jailhouse Howard turns to Vince,

“So I guess I should say welcome to Moonstone then.”

“Thanks Howard.”

“And I also guess we need to be thinking about living arrangements, seeing as you’re going to be around a while longer.”

“Are you suggesting we rearrange and redecorate the jailhouse because if you are then I am well and truly your man?”

“Well, no, I didn’t quite mean….”

But it was too late. Vince was already through the door and babbling loudly about throws and rugs and splashes of yellow.

Howard follows him in shaking his head but with a soft smile on his face.

“Okay Vince. Tell me what I can do.”

Howard stands in the middle of his beloved jailhouse not quite believing what he is seeing. It looks entirely different. Nothing is where it was. Everything familiar has been primped, fluffed or re-utilised as something else. Most of the contents of his cell have been pulled out and distributed around the walls, over the furniture, across the ceiling. And once he’d let on to Vince that he played piano then the battered old one he’d been holding on to was dragged out and given pride of place next to the fire.

The room looks incredible. Full of life, full of colour and full of warmth.

“Ouch!”

“Vince, you alright?” Howard’s attention is pulled back to the cell where he’d left Vince hanging a variety of throws from the overhead beams.

“Yeah, just stabbed myself with something.”

Howard enters the cell. Even in such a small space it takes a second to spot Vince among all the material hanging down and over the floor. He’s sitting on the end of Howard’s cot bed, his finger in his mouth and frowning.

“You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just a small cut.”

Howard looks around him again, amazed at the transformation he’s witnessing.

“This looks great. Really, really great.”

“Well I wanted to finish it off properly for you so I thought I’d divide the cell up into three areas, one for you to sleep, one for me to sleep, and a dressing area. I just cut my finger a little on this metal gate.”

“What are you gonna do with that?”

“Well I’m giving you a bedhead. It’s the perfect width. Can you help me lift it in place please Howard?”

The two men position the gate at the head of Howard’s cot and sure enough it sits perfectly. Vince then grabs some blankets and a couple of cushions, and makes the bed finishing the whole thing off with a large fluffy throw. Howard reaches down to stroke it.

“Wow that’s really soft. I’d no idea that was in here.”

“Nice isn’t it. It’s my piece de resistance.”

Howard sits himself down on the end of the bed as Vince finishes picking up the last few bits from the floor. He distributes them around the room and into perfect spots.

“There, all done!”

“Seriously, I love this.”

“Cheers Howard. I’m pretty pleased with it myself.”

“Where do you get all your ideas from?”

“I don’t really know. It just seems to come naturally.”

“Monty would love you as a set designer. That’s if he still had a theatre company.”

“Yeah shame about that. That would be a great job. Speaking of Monty I need to get out of these clothes and into some new ones. You think he’d mind if I borrowed a few more things?”

“No Vince, he’s fine with it. Help yourself.”

Vince moves between the drapes and into the ‘dressing room’. Howard removes his jacket and slides backwards up the bed. He rests against his new bedhead, enjoying the spongy feel of all the blankets beneath him. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, letting an easy peace flow through him. As he reopens them he notices movement and realises there’s a gap in the drapes. He can see Vince but the angles are all odd. It takes him a moment to realise it’s the mirror he can see, and Vince reflected into it. Howard swallows.

“So now all this is done I thought we could do something about the outside too.”

Howard’s not sure when Vince started talking.

“It could do with a lick of paint don’t you think? But not just any old boring colour though.”

Howard is holding his breath. Vince has his back to the mirror and is pulling the black shirt out from the waistband. He starts to undo the belt.

“Red could work. Red’s a really powerful colour. It would set you apart from the other buildings.”

Vince puts one hand against the wall and with the other pulls off a boot. Then the other boot followed by his socks.

“Or blue. Now blue’s a nice calming colour.”

With his back still to the mirror Vince begins unbuttoning the shirt. Howard can hear the gentle jangling sound of the belt hanging open on Vince’s hips.

“There’s the veranda too. Now that’s just crying out for a pair of rocking chairs don’t you think?”

Vince undoes the final button and slides the shirt of his shoulders to reveal a slender back as porcelain as it is flawless. Muscles ripple slightly under the skin as he pulls the belt through the runners of his trousers.

“It would be well cool, us two sharing a drink on the veranda and watching the world go by.”

Vince’s arms are far more muscular than Howard would have guessed, and as if on cue his right bicep peaks as he reaches to hang the belt over a bar.

“And we can invite Monty over. I bet he’s got some stories. Between the two of you I won’t have to read a book again.”

Vince turns now, his hands holding on to the top of his trousers ready to pull them down. As he turns he looks into the mirror and catches Howard’s eye. Both men freeze.

“Shit Vince, shit, stupid shit, I’m sorry. I just, I dunno, I’m really sorry.”

Howard starts to scoot off the side of his bed. Vince charges quickly through the drapes and stands at the foot of it.

“Howard stop!”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. It’s like I can’t help myself. It’s so wrong, I’m so sorry.”

“I said stop!”

Howard having stood dares to look up into Vince’s face. He winces slightly as he sees the seriousness of Vince’s expression. He hangs his head.

“I’m sorry!”

The Sheriff plonks himself back down on the bed ashamed to look anywhere but at the ground.

“Have you finished apologising?”

Howard nods his head uncomfortably.

“Can we talk about this then please?”

Vince walks around the side of the bed and sits on the far end of it. He sits fully on, legs crossed beneath him, his chest still bare.

“Howard please look at me.”

Howard complies and turns to face the younger man. With difficulty he manages to keep his eyes from Vince’s naked torso.

“I keep catching you staring at me.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I just…”

“Please don’t start apologising again. It’s fine you know.”

“What?”

“It’s fine. In fact I kind of like it. You don’t have to keep saying sorry.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Well it is a little bit pervy, but, to be honest, it’s very flattering too.”

“But you don’t mind that I’m, you know…”

“What?”

“A man?”

“Ha, no! Why would I care that you’re a man? Each to their own Howard.”

“I just thought it might scare you off if you found out that I was, you know…”

“You have trouble saying what you mean sometimes don’t you? Are you trying to tell me you’re into men?”

“Vince, I’m really sorry. This wasn’t meant to happen. I really didn’t think you’d be staying this long, and now you’re here, and I’ve made it all weird.”

“Are you into men?”

Howard looks away and at the floor again.

“Will you leave if I say yes?”

There’s a sudden silence between the two of them. Howard scrunches his eyes shut. It’s out there now, right out there in the open, hanging between them. He feels the mattress move as Vince shifts his weight. He assumes Vince is getting up off the bed, but instead he suddenly feels a hand upon his shoulder. He jumps in surprise.

“Howard, can you look at me again please?”

Howard sheepishly does as he is asked. The seriousness in Vince’s expression is still present, but he realises that there’s no anger in the eyes. If anything they are sparkling.

Vince pushes against Howard’s shoulder in order to get the larger man to shuffle around a bit. Now facing each other properly Vince lowers his hand and puts it instead on Howard’s knee.

“I want to tell you something Howard and I want you to listen properly and understand it okay?”

Howard nods slowly as if hypnotised. He’s placated by the hand on his knee, by the proximity of Vince’s body, by the rich gentle tone of his voice.

Vince removes his hand and settles back slightly. He’s sitting on the side of the bed now, mirroring Howard, one bare foot on the floor, the other tucked beneath him. He’s not broken eye contact once.

“I’m not really into men myself…”

Howard grimaces but before he can close his eyes in shame Vince’s hand is on his knee again.

“No Howard, just listen. I said I’m not really into men. That doesn’t mean I haven’t had a bit of fun with a couple now and again.”

“What? You’ve been with a man?”

“No, I’ve not been with a man, if you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about. I’ve kissed a couple though when I was really drunk. An old mate of mine called Rusty used to try it on a bit now and again. He’d pinch my arse, squeeze my thigh, that kind of thing.”

“But you’re not into men like I’m into men are you?”

“No, you’re right, I’m not. I’d be lying if I said I was. But I’m also saying that I’m not bothered that you are.”

There’s silence again as Vince lets these words sink in. “Howard?”

“It’s not as simple as that though is it Vince?”

“What’s not?”

“Us.”

“I’ve only known you a day Howard.”

“Yeah I know, but you’re, well you’re, you’re…”

“I’m turning you on?”

“Do you have to be so blunt?”

“Well someone has to be. It would take you an hour to spit it out.”

“Okay, yes, you’re turning me on.”

Vince can’t help but giggle.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No, of course not. It’s just, as I say, we’ve only known each other a day and look at us. You’ve already spilled your soul to me, we’ve moved in together, and now I’m sitting half-naked on your bed with you confessing your love to me. It is kinda funny.”

“Is it really?”

“It is a bit yeah. Oh come on Howard, I’m not taking the piss, I promise I’m not. I feel it too, you know. Something special between us. I felt it from the moment we first touched yesterday. Can’t say I’ve ever had that reaction to a bloke before. Scared me a bit to be honest.”

“Scared the shit out of me too.”

Vince chuckles again but this time Howard joins him. Howard looks at Vince and is rewarded with a smile.

“You are very beautiful though Vince.”

Howard can’t believe he just let those words out of his mouth. His eyes widen in astonishment at his own frankness. Vince’s eyes widen too, but he’s smiling.

“You can touch me if you want to Howard.”

The Sheriff is still staring wide-eyed at Vince. He’s not sure if he’s heard correctly. “What?”

“I said you can touch me if you want. I think I’d quite like that.”

Howard’s still not quite sure he’s heard right.

Without breaking eye contact Vince reaches forward and takes Howard’s hand into his. He clutches Howard’s hand in both of his and slowly brings it up to meet his lips, kisses it softly and holds it there against his cheek.

“I’m giving you permission to touch me. Nothing more though. I’m not sure if I can handle any you know what. Let’s just take it slowly yeah and see what happens.”

Howard is finding it hard to speak. Vince’s stubble is grazing his knuckles. He rubs his thumb across Vince’s cheek and finds the prickly softness of his sideburn. Vince leans his head into the touch.

“But you’re not into men Vince.”

“I know Howard, but I might be into you. I’m not sure yet. Can we just try a couple of little things tonight yeah, just to test the water so to speak?”

Howard can hardly believe what he’s hearing. He feels a little detached from himself and wonders how they got here, this wonderful creature on his bed offering himself to him. Things like this didn’t happen to Howard Moon, well not anymore. He’s not sure if he deserves it really but he damn well isn’t going to pass on this opportunity. He’s sick of being the underdog, the meek and mild Howard Moon, the apologetic and penitent Howard Moon. He used to be so full of guile and energy, he used to be so sure of himself, of his actions, of his words. He used to be brave. Well for tonight he was going to be brave again.

Howard, still rubbing the side of Vince’s face, frees the rest of his fingers from the younger man’s hands and reaches around to the side of Vince’s neck. He runs his fingertips through the soft hairline behind the ear and moves his thumb from the sideburn to Vince’s earlobe. He gently runs the pad of his thumb across it and then up around the outer ear. Vince shivers and closes his eyes. Howard moves his hand further to the back of Vince’s head and gently but firmly pulls Vince’s face towards his own. He leans in and plants a tiny kiss on each of Vince’s closed eyes, pausing longer on the second to lip-nibble at his eyebrow, before moving his kisses down the side of Vince’s face. He finds himself again at Vince’s sideburn and kisses and nips down to its tip. He keeps going until he rests his mouth just to the side of Vince’s lips.

Howard pulls back. “You still okay Vince?”

Howard’s voice though a whisper is full of concern. Vince feels his heart melt. He opens his eyes to look at his admirer.

“Yeah Howard. It’s really nice.”

“You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like won’t you?”

“I will. Don’t worry, I trust you.”

Howard runs his thumb across the side of Vince’s face again. “Would you mind lying down for me then?”

Vince smiles and climbs fully onto the bed. He lays back against the cushions and wiggles against the softness of the throw beneath his back.

“I knew this was a good choice.”

Howard laughs and turns to face Vince. The men look at each other for a while, both starting to breathe heavily in anticipation. Eventually Howard reaches out and puts his hand on Vince’s sternum. Vince doesn’t move, just continues to hold Howard’s lustful gaze with his own.

Howard starts tracing patterns into Vince’s chest hair with his forefinger. He traces out letters. E. L. E. C. T. R. O. making Vince giggle and close his eyes. Howard flattens his hand into a palm and rubs upwards across Vince’s chest, along his shoulder, and down to the bicep that he’d been so avidly admiring early. He squeezes it gently encouraging Vince to flex it for him. He caresses back across the shoulder, and to the chest where he starts making circles around Vince’s right nipple. He gets closer and closer, watching fascinated as it begins to harden. He looks at Vince’s face but the young man is making no move to stop him. He circles once more and then lightly takes the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Vince bucks slightly but keeps his eyes closed. Howard starts delicately rubbing the nipple until it’s fully hard. He then leans forward and takes it in his mouth, moving his hand across to the other nipple to work both together.

A groan escapes Vince’s lips. Howard doesn’t think he’s ever heard a more beautiful sound and decides right there and then that making Vince moan may be his true purpose in life.

Howard kisses across to that delicious patch of chest hair and then moves beyond to the other nipple. A second groan makes Howard’s very being disappear into itself. He feels his own penis growing in response but tries to compartmentalise that. This isn’t about him tonight, this is about Vince, about making this man feel at ease under his touch, and about showing him that already he means so much to him. About making him moan like again.

Howard licks the left nipple and then blows across it. Vince squirms. Howard pushes himself away from Vince and pulls his shirt off over his head. Vince opens his eyes.

“Do you mind? It’s just that I’m getting rather hot.”

“It’s fine Howard, I just wondered where you’d gone.”

Howard kicks off his boots and socks so both men are now only in their trousers. Howard gets onto the bed and lies on his side next to Vince, head propped up on his left hand. His right he returns to the middle of Vince’s chest to play with the hair.

“You can kiss me if you want to Howard.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want that.”

“I know. I wasn’t sure myself but I’d like to try it now.”

“Okay. Sit up then.”

“Sit up?”

“Yeah, it will be better if you sit up.”

Both shuffle to a seated position. “Why sit up?”

“Because I can’t do this when you’re lying down.”

Howard places a hand on either side of Vince’s face and leans in. Vince closes his eyes again and suddenly there they are, Howard Moon’s lips against his own. Vince’s instant response is to want to push Howard away, but that’s only a reaction to the ticklishness of the Sheriff’s moustache. It doesn’t feel right at first. The lips kissing him should be soft and delicate, not prickly and firm. Howard realises that Vince has become slightly unresponsive and quickly moves away from his lips, instead cupping Vince’s chin and kissing his way up his jawline. He whispers something indecipherable into Vince’s ear that makes the smaller man shudder, and then he nibbles at his earlobe finally putting the tip of his tongue out to lick the ridges. Vince groans some more. Howard can sense the younger man relinquish himself with every lick and nip, with every touch. The Sheriff slowly kisses his way back to Vince’s mouth and this time finds the lips moist and slightly parted. He takes Vince’s bottom lip between his own and sucks at it gently, putting out his tongue every so often to taste the younger man. Vince yields and begins to kiss back, angling his head into it. Howard puts his tongue out again and this time Vince catches it between his lips, encouraging Howard to enter further. The Sheriff needs no second invite. He cups his hand behind Vince’s head and pulls him into a stronger, more urgent kiss. Vince opens himself completely and their tongues clash into each other as if dueling.

Howard wonders if the other man will dare to touch him back at any point. That’s okay though, he wouldn’t change this for the world. He moves his right hand downwards, over Vince’s shoulder and down his back, feeling for the first time the tiny bumps and ridges of Vince’s spine. Resting his hand against the small of Vince’s back he pulls him firmly toward him. Vince murmurs something appreciative but then breaks the kiss, breathless and red cheeked.

“You still okay little man?”

“Yeah Howard, but a part of me is not so little anymore.”

“I had noticed Vince. Did you want me to help with that?”

“Umm, yeah, I reckon.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Howard strokes Vince face affectionately before pulling him back into a kiss and pushing gently against the smaller man to make him lie down again. He softens his kisses, teasing Vince by staying slightly out of reach and then pecking chastely at his lips. And Vince responds by finally reaching out and grabbing Howard’s head, pulling him down into a kiss so deep Howard nearly forgets to breathe. In the midst of this kiss Howard trails his fingers down the centre of Vince’s chest, back through the chest hair that has become his new favourite place, and further down to Vince’s belly button. He circles around this and finds the silky trail of hair beneath. He doesn’t need to look, he knows exactly where it is having seen it only this morning as Vince lay sleeping. It has been in his mind ever since. Vince whimpers below him and he knows he has permission to keep going. He follows the trail down to the loose waistband of Vince’s trousers and edges his way beneath. He keeps going down, and just before he grabs Vince’s cock he pulls out of the kiss, determined to see the younger man’s reaction. He’s not disappointed.

Vince bucks almost violently and grabs at the makeshift metal bed-head behind him. His head goes back too revealing an oh-so slim neck that’s glistening with moisture. Howard’s insides flip at the sight, and he tugs at Vince’s trousers, demanding better access. Vince opens his eyes but not in protest. Instead he raises his hips and allows Howard to free him. Howard doesn’t look away from Vince. He doesn’t look down although he desperately wants to. He’s aware of how exposed Vince will be feeling right now and doesn’t want to do anything that might jeopardise Vince’s pleasure.

Howard readjusts his grip around Vince’s penis and starts steadily pumping. Vince immediately shuts his eyes and throws his head back again. Howard can’t resist sucking at the exposed neck and jawline. Vince pulls him into another kiss, moaning desperately into Howard’s mouth as the Sheriff’s pace quickens below. Howard runs his thumb across the tip of the head and then down the underside of Vince’s member right to the base. Beneath him Vince has become shiny with sweat. He’s going to orgasm, Howard knows it as sure as he knows how to fire a gun. And he definitely wants to be watching Vince’s face when it happens. So he pulls out of the kiss and moves to work on Vince’s nipples, nibbling and sucking at them, keeping his rhythm at top in line with whatever he is doing down below.

Vince reaches for Howard’s head and runs his fingers through the fine hair. He’s close to the climax and very surprised at how quickly he got here. Howard’s clearly had quite a bit of practice giving hand-jobs. He wonders about that for a second, a second that is until Howard suddenly moves to below his testicles and starts massaging the area there. Vince feels like he’s on fire. His nervous system is in overload. Howard moves back to his cock and pumps faster now, squeezing harder, pulling longer, circling the head and then back to the base. Vince tenses. Howard can feel the heat radiating off of him and lifts himself higher up on his arm so he can see Vince’s expression. This beautiful man below him is literally glowing. His skin has become sleek and his fringe is sticking slightly to his forehead. His lips look fuller where they have reddened from kissing, and he is mouthing unheard words. Howard circles underneath the testicles again until Vince’s breaths becomes shallower and shallower and shallower. Howard waits a minute, two minutes until suddenly he’s pulling on Vince’s cock quicker and quicker until Vince throws his head back one more time, knuckles white where he’s gripping the bed-head, and orgasms with a ferocity that’s anything but innocent. He cries out in a kind of victorious gasp and bucks into Howard’s hand, before laying spent beneath him, chest rising and falling, heart hammering, head dizzy and swirling. His body jolts a couple more times. Howard falls flat to the bed beside Vince. He lies staring at Vince again, equally short of breath and very happy.

Vince eventually rolls over onto his side to face Howard, his eyes open but glazed. He smiles languidly and moves his hand to stroke the side of Howard’s face before leaning in to give him a peck on the lips.

“Wow.”

“That okay then?”

“Yeah Howard that was more than okay.”

Vince shuts his eyes and Howard watches him as he drifts off to sleep. He plants a kiss on Vince’s forehead and gently raises himself off the bed. He pulls a throw across the young man’s body and moves quietly out the room to both clean himself up and fix himself a stiff drink.

---

[nextpage title=”Fence”]

Fence

Howard Moon, having spent the night on his sofa, had gotten up and left the jailhouse early. Vince was still asleep. He was fast getting the impression that The Electro-Kid liked his lie-ins.

It is fair to say that Howard isn’t a man who found fun easily, and the events of the night before were now swarming around his head like a plague of locusts. The anxieties and doubts that he’d been so successful in holding at bay during the previous evening’s antics had all stormed back into his thoughts in the cold light of the morning.

It wasn’t really about Vince though. Well at least it wasn’t a fear regarding how Vince would react when he woke. Somehow Howard knew that Vince would be cool with it, would take it in his stride like he seemed to take everything. Hell, he even thought there was a good chance Vince would let him do it again. Howard blushed a little at that prospect.

No, that wasn’t it at all. The main problem with Howard is Howard. How could he have been so foolish in letting his desires get the better of him like that? It was no way for a Sheriff to act, especially one that was meant to be looking out for Vince. Talk about abusing a position of power.

And what about Tommy? Wasn’t that why he was still in Moonstone? He was meant to be seeking Vince’s help in bringing Dixon Bainbridge to justice, not seeking Vince’s…well…you know what.

Everything he had done last night was a gobful of spit flung into the face of Tommy’s memory.

Howard, having walked aimlessly around the town for half an hour, had finally headed in the direction of his beloved old friend, that is to say the town cemetery. As he reaches it an anger swells inside him, an anger that exists every time he comes here. Even this most sacred of places has been violated by Bainbridge. A large wooden fence runs all the way around its perimeter, and access to the cemetery can only be gained via a toll-gate manned night and day by one of his cronies. The people of Moonstone can’t even visit their deceased loved ones without paying a price. It always makes Howard feel physically sick.

The Sheriff strolls over to a specific part of the fence and peers through a hole. From this spot he can just about make out Tommy’s grave. He can’t read the inscription on the headstone, but he doesn’t need to. He knows it off-by-heart.

“Here lies Thomas ‘Tommy the Cheese’ Nookah, Father of Moonstone and dear friend to all. Rest forever in peace and happiness.”

Howard notices that someone has put a small yellow flower on his headstone. He smiles to himself. No doubt one of the visiting widows distributing a few floral tributes across multiple graves. There are still some kind people living in this town. It gives Howard hope.

“Hi Tommy.”

It had been a long time since Howard was here last.

“Sorry, I’ve been neglecting you, old pal.” Howard runs his hand through his hair. “I, err, well, I haven’t really made any headway since I was last here. There doesn’t seem to be anywhere else to look. I’ve been back through every possible file and newspaper clipping we have on Bainbridge but nothing new has come to light. It’s like I’ve hit a massive brick wall Tommy, and I don’t know where to dig to make it crumble.”

Howard isn’t hearing the footsteps coming up behind him.

“What would really help is if I could get out of here and go visit a few nearby towns. Ask around a bit you know, see if anyone’s heard of him elsewhere. He must have done similar stuff before. A slime ball like him doesn’t just come into existence overnight. He’s got to have a family somewhere, a history, a past.”

The footsteps stop just as Howard does. The Sheriff is still unaware that someone’s listening to him.

“I promise though Tommy, I really do, that one of these days I’m gonna make that evil son-of-a-bitch Bainbridge pay for what he’s done to us!”

“Are you really Moon? Well that’s not very neighbourly now is it?”

Howard starts to turn as the booming voice of Dixon Bainbridge startles him out of his monologue, but he isn’t quite quick enough. Bainbridge hits out with some sort of cosh and connects with the side of Howard’s head, sending the Sheriff flying to the ground. Howard grunts heavily as he lands, dazed and in pain. Bainbridge moves forward and kicks the wind out of him for good measure.

“What was that you were saying Moon? You gonna make me pay are you? You and who’s cavalry? You and that pretty little Deputy of yours? Don’t make me laugh. You’re nothing but a washed-up wannabe lawman Moon, and the sooner you come to accept that the better.”

Howard, clutching his stomach, rolls onto his back and tries to focus. His head is swimming with colours and he blinks furiously trying to clear the rainbow fog that’s clouding his vision.

Bainbridge laughs in that big hearty way of his.

“Look at you. Why I almost feel sorry for you. I know the man you once were and it makes me sad to see you now like this, rolling around in the dirt.”

Howard’s vision finally stops waltzing and he squints up at the Mayor. “I will get you Bainbridge, I swear on all that is sacred that this will never be over, not until I’ve…”

“Hush now Sheriff. Don’t get yourself worked up into a tizzy. What you think you’ll do, or what you want to do is of no consequence to me. You can’t touch me Moon, you can’t lay a damn thing on me and you know it. It’s really not worth getting all emotional now is it?”

Howard suddenly kicks his leg out trying to make contact with Bainbridge’s kneecap, but Dixon simply steps backwards out of reach.

“Tsk tsk, now that’s no way to treat your Mayor is it? Someone needs to teach you some manners.”

Quick as you like Bainbridge jumps forward and brings the cosh down again on the side of Howard’s head. The force of it knocks Howard back onto his side and renders him unconscious.

Bainbridge stands over him for a while checking that he’s still breathing. Teaching him a lesson is one thing, but he certainly doesn’t want Howard dead. No, he wants him to be submissive and obedient. He wants him to stop digging around. Not that he’s particularly worried, he doesn’t think Howard could ever find anything on him. But Bainbridge is smart enough to know that it’s almost impossible to cover every track. He’d rather Howard Moon simply stop looking all together.

Howard moans and his eyes start to roll under their lids. Bainbridge smiles and kneels down next to the Sheriff. He leans over and puts his mouth right up against Howard’s ear.

“This was a warning. There won’t be another. Stay out of my business and I’ll stay out of yours. Comprende?”

Howard’s eyes flicker open and he moans again.

“I asked you a question Moon. Do you understand?”

“Fuck you Bainbridge!” Howard manages to spit out the words before closing his eyes and drifting back into unconsciousness.

Bainbridge stands and gives him one more kick to the stomach before dusting himself off and smoothing his moustache into place.

“You’re a brave man, I give you that Sheriff Moon, but you’re somewhat stupid too if you think you can outwit me.”

Bainbridge turns away from the unresponsive lawman and beckons to one of his lackeys who’s been lurking behind a tree. The man comes running over and hands Bainbridge his jacket. He looks down at Howard.

“Should I get a couple of the boys to come and fetch him boss?”

A small rivulet of blood has edged past Howard’s hairline to begin its journey across his forehead.

“No, just leave him. He’ll come around soon enough.”

The two men turn away and descend the hill back to town.

Vince’s eyes flicker open slowly. He rolls onto his back and stretches his arms and spine out, flexing his toes and fingers. There is something utterly satisfying about a morning stretch, even more so when it is the morning after a very enjoyable night before.

Vince cocks his head upwards from the pillow and listens. He can’t see past the drapes into the rest of the jailhouse, but the hollow silence of the place tells him that Howard isn’t home. He can sense it.

Ruffling his fingers through his hair he sits up, looking around for his discarded trousers. He smiles to himself as the memory of Howard easing them off comes back to him, and he finds them on the floor at the end of the bed. He puts them on and makes his way, barefooted and bare chested, through to the main area of the jailhouse. He sees a screwed up blanket on the couch and realises that Howard must have slept out here. Vince feels a little guilty for having kicked the Sheriff out of his own bed, especially as he himself had slept so well. Of course Vince wouldn’t have minded if Howard had stayed with him all night, but he knew, realistically, that was too much too soon for the both of them.

Now though Vince starts to feel concerned. Something in his gut is niggling at him. He can’t quite place it, something seems a bit off.

He puts a pot of water on the boil, knowing a good wash will wake him up fully. As it heats he returns to the bedroom area to pick out some new clothes for the day. He smiles again as he remembers why he didn’t get to pick them out the evening before.

Vince rifles through Monty’s chest and finds a pair of slacks and a striped shirt that he assumes must have been part of a pirate costume at one time. He gathers a few more bits and makes his way back to the stove for that wash.

He dresses slowly, his eyes always on the door to the jailhouse. His stomach rumbles. Maybe Howard’s gone out for food he thinks to himself. Still, he’s been gone a fair while. He looks around the place for a clue, a sign, anything that could suggest where Howard might be. There’s nothing obvious.

He sits down at the table and cuts himself a hunk of bread, chewing and swallowing it in a very deliberate fashion. Still he can’t pull his gaze away from the door. Something is gnawing inside of him, like that tummy churning you get when you’ve forgotten an important detail, or when you suddenly remember you should be somewhere else.

Vince frowns and lightly chews at the nail on his thumb. Is he being paranoid? Howard probably needed a walk. Or maybe he is doing his rounds as Sheriff. Lawman duties and the like. Maybe someone required his help, and he was out there now rounding up hens or fixing some child’s rocking horse.

Yet inside Vince the apprehensiveness refuses to back down. It’s hot and it’s slightly nauseating. It’s sticky and heavy. Vince sucks on his upper lip. He looks back at the door. No, it’s more than apprehension. It’s darker and deeper than that. It is a portent, a foreboding. He knows it in his bones, in the recesses of his mind, in his soul. He frowns again and roughly scrunches his hair. He strokes his upper arm. He chews at the inside of his mouth. He pushes his hands outwards across the tabletop, as wide as he can, and drums his fingers on the wooden surface. Five minutes pass. Ten. He sits there, fiddling with a splinter sticking out from the underside of the table. He pulls it free and flicks it across the room. His hand is back into his hair, pulling a strand straight and twirling it round and around and around his finger like a child. He fidgets, he finger drums, he strokes his arm, back to the finger drumming. Fifteen minutes. He gets up. He sits back down. He cuts more bread and pokes holes in it with his forefinger. He tears some off and rolls it between his palms making a small doughy ball. He pushes it back and forth across the table quicker and quicker until he misjudges and it goes flying off the end. He chews his lip again. Twenty minutes.

Suddenly Vince stands, charges into the bedroom, grabs his hat and the first poncho he sees, and then all but runs out of the jailhouse, slamming the door behind him.

He has to find Howard.

Vince jumps down the steps and runs to the main street. There’s far more people out and about than there had been yesterday and he suddenly realises that many eyes are on him. He slows to a walk and then stops altogether near a goods store, looking around him unsure of which direction to take. He thinks maybe he should ask around, see if anyone has spoken to the Sheriff that morning. He starts to enter the store just as three young women exit. They stare at him in amazement before one with flaming red hair flutters her eyelashes and playfully says “hello there handsome.” Vince responds with a tip of his hat, a huge smile and a greeting of “good morning ladies,” which sends the three of them into a sort of giggling meltdown. They scurry away, heads pressed together, whispering and throwing kittenish glances in Vince’s direction. He winks at them cheekily which causes another round of manic giggling, before he takes the steps up into the store.

The elderly fellow behind the counter gawps at Vince as he enters. It makes the young cowboy feel a bit uncomfortable.

“Hey there. I was just wondering if you’d happened across Sheriff Moon this morning.”

The store owner doesn’t say anything. He just stares at Vince and slowly shakes his head from side to side.

“Okay then,” says Vince bemused, “thanks for your help.”

He retreats out of the shop and stands again in the street. Across on the other side a group has gathered in front of what looks to be a dressmaker’s. They are all watching him.

Vince takes a deep breath and strolls over.

“Hi,” he says as cheerily as possible, “I’m Vince. Vince Noir. I’m new in town and I was wondering if any of you had seen the Sheriff this morning?”

The group, which consists of two men and two women, all gape at him until eventually one woman steps forward.

“Excuse our manners Mr. Noir, but we’re a little unaccustomed to seeing new faces around these parts. My name’s Eleanor Hopkins and this is my husband Lucien.”

Lucien shakes Vince’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you sir.”

Eleanor continues, “And this is Neville Bamshoot, our town’s physician.”

The Doctor nods.

“And this is Miss Susan Glister, owner of this store.”

Eleanor gently pushes the other woman forward towards Vince, but Miss Glister drops her head in modesty and squeaks a barely audible ‘hello’.

Vince grins again at the group.

“I’m truly honoured to meet you all. Thank you.”

Eleanor puts her arm around Susan’s shoulders.

“Don’t mind our Susie here, she’s terribly shy. Now what the devil are you doing in Moonstone Mr. Noir? Looking for Howard Moon did you say?”

“Yes. I arrived the other day. I’m a Deputy Sheriff in training, except I seem to have lost my teacher.”

“A Deputy Sheriff,” Lucien stammers. “Well I’ll be damned.”

“Why that’s wonderful news,” adds Eleanor, “Simply wonderful. It will be great for Moonstone to have two lawmen again, what after poor Tommy and all those rumours…”

Eleanor’s voice trails off as Lucien nudges her in the arm as a warning.

Vince looks at her quizzically but doesn’t ask her to elaborate. Instead he repeats his question regarding Howard’s whereabouts. Neville replies,

“Apologies Mr. Noir but I can’t say as I have.”

The rest of the group shake their heads.

“Have you tried the cemetery?”

From behind Vince the booming and now instantly recognisable voice of Dixon Bainbridge makes the whole group collectively jump. Vince spins on his heels to face the Mayor as Eleanor and company automatically huddle a smidgen closer together.

Vince is determined to hold his nerve.

“Mayor Bainbridge, good morning Sir. No I haven’t tried the cemetery. Have you seen Sheriff Moon there today?”

“No, but it’s just the sort of place you’ll likely find him moping about and crying for his ex-girlfriend Tommy the Jerk-Off.”

Vince feels a hot rush of anger rise inside of him. ‘This guy really is a dick’ he thinks. He tries to control his voice, remembering before he speaks that he’s meant to be acting a bit feeble minded.

“Sheriff Moon wouldn’t cry Mayor Bainbridge, Sir. Sheriff Moon’s a hero.”

Vince can’t help but feel embarrassed for putting on his dopey act in front of others. Still, Howard had made him promise to play it safe, and this was his best shot at being allowed to remain in Moonstone.

Bainbridge glares at Vince with a frightening ferocity. He raises the corner of his upper lip in an almost evil smirk.

“Howard Moon is the most deplorable, puny, repulsive, second-rate joke of a sheriff I’ve ever had the misfortune to come across. The sooner you get that into your thick skull boy, the better.”

Vince can’t help himself and he makes to take a step forward, finger raised in a point. Eleanor quickly reaches out and puts a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“Easy Deputy.”

Vince drops his hand but glares back at Bainbridge with a steely-blue determination.

“You eye-fucking me pretty boy?” Bainbridge takes two large strides towards Vince, closing the gap to less than a foot. He leans right into Vince forcing the young man to lean back slightly. “You try and eye-fuck me again and you’ll be wearing your face on the other side of your head.”

Bainbridge lifts his right hand and balls it into a tight fist. Vince closes his eyes and waits but nothing happens. After a few seconds he risks opening one, but Bainbridge is already walking away from him laughing.

The group, still standing behind him, audibly relaxes too. Vince turns back to face them and smiles weakly.

“Can any of you tell me where the cemetery is please?”

Eleanor returns the smile and puts her hand reassuringly on Vince’s arm. “Sure pet. It’s just on the edge of town at the top of the hill. Keep going to the end of the main street and there’s a trail up to it.”

Vince murmurs his thanks and a hasty goodbye. “Great!” he says quietly to himself, “Now all the town’s going to think I’m a simpleton and a pushover.”

He puts his head down quickening his pace towards the graveyard.

Having easily found the main path up to the cemetery Vince reaches the top of the climb and looks around him. The trail seems to end at a wooden gate in front of which sits a weasely-looking man behind a couple of large crates. Vince looks to the left and the right of him, his eyes tracing what appears to be a fence in both directions. Behind the fence he can make out headstones. It’s very confusing to him.

Vince makes his way cautiously towards the man. He notices as he nears that the man appears to be whittling something.

“Excuse me.”

“Yup?” The man doesn’t look up.

“Umm, I was wondering, can you tell me if Sheriff Moon’s visited the cemetery today?”

The man still doesn’t look up, but a slight pause in his carving alerts Vince to the fact that this man knows something.

“Nope.”

Vince decides to try a different tact.

“Are you sure because Mayor Bainbridge just told me that he was up here.”

The man finally looks up at the mention of the Mayor’s name, and then does a sort of double-take as he absorbs the sight of Vince.

“The Mayor told you?”

“Well yeah, at least he told me to look up here.”

“Oh right.”

Vince notices the man keeps looking shiftily at one of the crates.

“So?”

“Umm. Well you might want to go that way maybe.” The man points to his left.

“Not sure if he’s there or not. Might be. Sometimes he is, sometimes he ain’t.”

“Cheers. I’ll take a look.”

Vince sees the man again glance at the crate, but he’s not got time to worry about that now. All he wants to do is find Howard and get back to the much better plan of having a good breakfast.

He walks in the direction suggested. What on earth the fence is about is anyone’s guess. Seems you have to pay to enter the cemetery. Vince shakes his head. ‘That can’t be right can it?’ he thinks to himself.

He walks quite a way lost in his own thoughts. He doesn’t hear his name being called at first.

“Vince.”

Vince stops. He looks around but can’t see the source of the voice. “Howard. Is that you?”

“Vince. Help.”

“Howard where are you? I can’t see you.”

“Here.”

“Where?” Vince suddenly spots him lying half in and half out of a particularly large patch of tall grass. “Howard, shit, what happened?”

Vince dives to Howard’s side as the Sheriff starts to sit up.

“Whoa there big guy. Take it easy yeah. Shit Howard, can you hear me alright? Just lay still for a minute, let me take a look at you.”

Howard pushes Vince’s hands away but his head is lolling about and his gaze is unsteady. Vince grabs both of his shoulders in a firm grip and pushes against him in order to get Howard to lie back down.

“Please, stay put will you.”

“I’m alright Vince, I’m alright.”

“You’re not alright. You’ve got a nasty cut on your head and your eyes are all over the place.”

Vince takes off his poncho and folds it into a makeshift pillow which he tucks beneath Howard’s head.

“I’m okay. Don’t fuss.”

“Howard please, I’m not fussing. Lie still for a bit yeah. I won’t touch you. I’ll just sit here with you until you feel a bit better.”

A couple of minutes pass in quiet, Howard with his eyes closed trying to take control of his spinning head, Vince sat right next to him desperately worried and wanting to take a closer look at that cut.

Howard opens his eyes. “Thanks Vince.”

“It’s okay. Somebody’s done a right number on your noggin’ ain’t they? Can I have a quick look?”

Howard gives a tiny nod of the head and Vince gently searches through his hair till he finds the gash.

“Someone clocked you alright. Looks like it’s stopped bleeding though. Who did this?”

Howard closes his eyes again. “Bainbridge.”

“Bainbridge? What, with his own hands?”

“Yes.”

“Well let’s go and arrest him then.”

“We can’t. We’ve got no proof.”

“But you’re the Sheriff. Surely your word is proof.”

“Not against a Mayor who can get half of this town to be his alibi and force the other half to keep quiet.”

“This is ridiculous Howard. He can’t get away with beating you up. This is just stupid.”

“I told you he was dangerous didn’t I.” Howard starts to sit up but winces as a sharp pain floods through him. He wraps his own arm around his midsection.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, took a couple to the guts too.”

“Do you reckon you’ll be able to walk? I’d really like to get you home and cleaned up.”

“There’s a trail down behind us here. There’s a few paths snaking down this hill. It’s pretty steep though.”

“I think we should walk back around to the main path. It’ll probably be easier going in the long run.”

“If you don’t mind me using you as a crutch I might just manage it.”

Howard makes to stand but promptly falls back on his rear as the dizziness overpowers him. “Shit.”

“Nice and slow yeah Howard.”

Howard raises himself again, this time allowing Vince to support him and prop him up. He gets to his feet, bent over double and leaning heavily across Vince’s shoulders.

Vince sets himself below Howard’s weight, wrapping one arm as far as he can around his waist and grabbing Howard’s hand with the other. He gives it an affectionate squeeze.

“You ready then? One foot in front of the other. Little by little. If you need to stop we stop.”

“Yeah I’m ready little man.”

They walk back towards the gate and the path to town. Vince keeps glancing up at Howard, trying to ascertain just how much pain he’s in and trying to preempt any difficulty. After thirty or so metres Howard starts to move a little easier. The dizziness passes and the muscles in his stomach settle to the rhythm of their steps. He tries to straighten slightly, wanting to lift some of his weight off of Vince’s shoulders, but the younger man simply pulls him back down with a stern “No!”

For a few more paces they continue in silence, Howard concentrating on his breathing, Vince concentrating on not stumbling.

A dozen more steps.

“Howard.”

“Mmmm?”

“Do you mind if I ask you another quick question?”

“Sure.”

Vince hesitates and then asks, “Where are your clothes?”

Howard stops walking and looks down at himself. He can’t believe he hadn’t even noticed. Where are his trousers? He pulls at the vest he is wearing and it dawns on him that he’s only in his underwear. Pants and vest. Oh and boots. Pants, vest and boots.

“What the hell?”

“You’ve only just realised?”

“Where are my clothes?”

“I dunno. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“But, Bainbridge…surely not?”

“Why would he strip you?”

“He wouldn’t. It’s not his style.”

The men look at each other for a moment, frowning. Suddenly Howard starts patting at his chest just above his heart.

“No! No! No! No! No! No! No!”

“Howard, what is it? What?”

Howard roars and lurches forward as if to start running down the slope. Vince flings his arms tightly around him and puts his shoulder into Howard’s in an effort to stop him from running anywhere. The Sheriff’s arms are flailing and he knocks Vince’s hat off. Vince has to duck to keep from being whacked in the face.

“Howard stop! Please, stop, stop!”

“Tommy’s cheese-wire Vince. They’ve taken Tommy’s wire.”

Howard lunges forward again, and again Vince uses all his strength to stop him.

“Please Howard. You’re gonna hurt yourself some more. We’ll get it back I promise. I’ll get it back.”

“Why have I got no clothes on?” Howard practically screams this into Vince’s face. Vince starts to shake his head when suddenly he remembers the weasel man.

“The crate!”

“What?”

“The crate. The geezer at the gate to the graveyard was well shifty. I knew something was off about him. There was this crate…quick Howard. Can you move a little faster?”

“Damn straight I can.” Howard moves surprisingly fast for a big man, especially a big man that’s just had the shit kicked out of him, but it’s no surprise that it’s Vince that reaches the gate first. He skids to a stop in front of the now empty chair where the weasel-man had previously been sitting, and throws his hands in the air.

“He’s gone!”

Howard catches up to Vince and stands alongside him, hands on knees and panting heavily.

Vince walks over to the table and picks up an object lying there. It’s the whittled wood the man was crafting earlier. Vince can’t tell what it’s meant to be. He repeats,

“He’s gone.”

Howard reaches out and takes the piece of wood from Vince’s hands. He turns it over.

“Lance Parrot.”

“Who?”

“Lance Parrot. He’s a kind of nobody. Lived here for years but pretty much works for Bainbridge now. It’s not his fault really, he’s got a squillion kids to feed. Probably stole my clothes to make new ones for them.”

“Well we’ve obviously scared him off.”

“Yeah, although I can’t imagine Bainbridge will be best pleased he’s left his post.”

Vince shrugs and walks over to the three crates. He bends to look inside the first. Nothing. He pulls at the lid of the second and peers in.

“Howard!”

The Sheriff raises his head. Vince is practically diving into the crate and Howard stifles a chuckle. His Deputy looks decidedly comical as he teeters on the edge, legs lifted off the ground, head and shoulders completely inside the box. Then Howard remembers his own appearance.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ve got it Howard.”

“Got what?”

Vince pushes himself back out of the crate and trots towards Howard. Tommy’s cheese-wire is dangling from his fingers. Howard stares at him for a moment and then grabs Vince’s face with both his hands, planting a huge smacker of a kiss on the smaller man’s mouth. He pulls back staring into those precious blue eyes, Vince’s face still between his palms.

“You Vince are my good-luck charm.”

The Electro-Kid grins. “And you Howard are clearly concussed. We need to get you home, now.”

Howard lets go of Vince’s face and nods. They begin the descent down the hill.

Neither say anything for a while, but they keep throwing sideways glances at each other and smiling to themselves. Each man suddenly seems a little shy in the other’s company. It’s Vince who eventually speaks first.

“You know, you should go about in your undergarments more often. That’s quite a look on you.”

“Like what you see do you Sir?”

Howard playfully flexes both arms, showing his muscles, then winces as the pain from his bruised stomach swells. Vince puts his hand on Howard’s forearm.

“Steady Strongman. You’ll do yourself some permanent damage if you’re not careful.”

His hand dwells on Howard’s arm. He gives it a friendly rub. “Were you alright this morning Howard, when you woke up I mean?”

Howard slows his pace. “Sure. What makes you think…?”

His sentence dwindles off. He remembers that he wasn’t quite right no. “It’s just I felt a bit guilty is all. Felt like I’d taken advantage of you a little last night.”

“Advantage of me? You didn’t force me.”

“Yeah, I know that. It’s just…” He falters again. Vince rubs his arm some more.

“It’s okay, we’ll get you home. We don’t need to talk about it now.”

“Cheers. Thanks.”

They reach the bottom of the hill and stand for a moment behind some outhouses so Howard can get his breath back.

“You know how you said I was your good-luck charm though Howard.”

“Yep.”

“Well you’re in luck again big fella.” Vince reaches inside the back of his jacket and pulls from the waistband of his trousers the poncho that he’d quickly stuffed down there earlier. He shakes it out and holds it up for Howard to see. “One size fits all.”

Howard glares at him but there’s a playfulness in his eyes.

“Do you mean to tell me that you’ve had that the whole time I’ve been running around in my jocks?”

Vince’s face cracks into a massive smile. “Sorry. I completely forgot about it until five minutes ago. Still it’s nice to give your body a full airing once in a while.”

They both laugh.

“If it wasn’t for the fact you came and rescued me, and found Tommy’s wire, I’d teach you a damn good lesson Vince Noir.”

Still giggling they turn to face each other. Vince helps Howard put the poncho over his head. They stand, Vince’s hands still holding on to the front of the garment. He smooths it out across Howard’s chest and pauses above his heart.

“Your badge? Please don’t tell me Lance took your badge too.”

“No. I left it at the jailhouse this morning. I’d have felt funny wearing it to visit Tommy. He’s the real Sheriff after all.”

“I don’t think he’d mind, in fact I think you’d make him proud.”

Vince fondly strokes Howard’s chest again before stepping backwards out of reach. He swallows down a nervous chuckle.

“Do you think me and Tommy would have got on?”

Howard squints quizzically at the younger man before stepping forward and re-closing the gap between them. He takes a hand of Vince’s in each of his.

“Firstly Vince I can’t imagine a soul in the world not getting on with you…”

Vince drops his gaze to the ground, flattered but embarrassed. Howard lets go of his hand to lift Vince’s chin back up again. He smiles tenderly as he notices the blush that’s coloured Vince’s cheeks. He runs his thumb across one.

“…and secondly yes, I reckon you and Tommy would have gotten on tremendously. In fact I reckon Tommy’s looking down on us now pleased as punch that you’ve come into my life.”

“Do you?”

“I do. I really believe that.”

Howard leans down and gently places his lips onto Vince’s. This time it’s sweeter and gentler than the one at the top of the hill. It’s not a reaction. It’s not greedy or hot or aching. It’s soft, loving and deeply intense. Howard moves his lips against Vince’s delicately encouraging the younger man to kiss him back.

Vince initially stalls as he had the night before, but the feel of the moustache is more familiar to him now and he quickly parts his lips allowing Howard to taste him. He glides his hands up the side of Howard’s neck and runs his fingers through the fine hair that covers his nape. Howard sighs into his mouth and Vince’s knees weaken. He puts his hands onto Howard’s broad shoulders to stabilize himself, but Howard has already read the situation. Without breaking the kiss his arms snake around Vince’s back and waist, steadying the younger man and improving the angle. Their tongues meet, velvety and warm and electrifyingly fervent as they coil around each other. The kiss deepens again as every nugget of desire and lust in Howard bursts directly into his tongue, and although still gentle, he nudges, pulls and journeys through every part of Vince’s mouth. The younger man can barely stand. It’s like the oxygen is being sucked out of him. He’s feeling giddy and euphoric, and as he wraps his arms around Howard’s neck he fleetingly wonders if this is what it’s like to drown.

They stay like that, kissing and inhaling each other as if they were the last two men on Earth until, bereft of breath, they part.

Vince wobbles as his lungs take in a big gulp of air and Howard reaches out to steady him again. He slips his palms under Vince’s elbows. Both men are gasping heavily.

Howard places a hand on the top of Vince’s head in a cherishing gesture.

“Bloody hell!”

Vince’s chest is still heavily rising and falling as his lungs try to take back control.

Howard raises his eyebrows and shakes his head in wonderment. “You’re incredible Vince.”

“I’m incredible? My god Howard, where did you learn to kiss like that?”

“I wasn’t the only one kissing.”

“No but…” Vince looks away. “Bloody hell.”

“You said that already.”

Vince loosens his grip on Howard’s arms as the strength in his legs returns. He looks up at the Sheriff once more.

“I don’t know what’s happening here.”

“Neither do I Vince. It’s like you’re the missing piece of me.”

“I know, I feel it too. Like this has been waiting to happen for a very long time. Like I was always meant to be here, with you.”

The two of them pause. They look away from each other, both minds whirling with words they want to say but can’t seem to find.

Vince clears his throat. “So do you still think Tommy is watching us from the great beyond?”

“I do.”

“Well we’ve sure given him a show so far haven’t we?”

Howard snorts. “Yeah. He’d have enjoyed that I reckon.”

Another silence is eventually broken by Howard. “Actually mentioning Tommy has reminded me of something important I need to do today. Something I need to do for you.”

“What?”

“Oh, you’ll see, little man. It’s kind of a surprise.”

“Okay, but it had better not take too long. I’m not very patient with surprises.”

“Well get me home then yeah, help find me some new clothes, and then I’ll tell you.”

“Cool!”

Vince grabs Howard’s hand and practically drags him towards the main street and the jailhouse.

Vince is still leading Howard by the hand as they hit the main street. He’s also still reeling from the kiss and a part of him knows he wants more. He’s really not sure how this whole thing with Howard is going to pan out, and he’s definitely not sure if he’s comfortable taking it too much further, but boy oh boy can the Sheriff snog. Vince is very curious about Howard’s past sexual encounters. He wonders if maybe Monty’s in the mix somehow, but he just can’t really imagine it. Monty’s well old! Tommy maybe? But Howard seemed pretty adamant that he’d just been a friend. That didn’t really leave many other obvious options.

Vince is still musing when he is suddenly jerked to a stop.

“Howard?”

“I’m about to walk through a crowded street wearing just a poncho Vince. I don’t want to provide the added spectacle of being pulled along by you.”

Vince smiles. “Sorry. But don’t dally okay.”

As the two of them start down the street the red-haired girl from earlier comes skipping in front of them.

“Hello again cowboy,” she says before rejoining her two giggling friends.

Vince turns to the three of them and doffs his hat. “Howdy ladies.”

More giggling.

Howard taps him on the shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Just being friendly.”

“Being flirty more like.”

“What? No! Definitely not! They’re like sixteen or something.”

Howard makes a deep ‘humph’ kind of sound. Vince laughs.

“Are you jealous Sheriff?”

Howard ‘humphs’ again but doesn’t reply. He just picks up his speed, anxious to get home as quickly as possible before anybody else spots his near nakedness.

Too late!

“Vince! Vince sweetie.”

“O hello again Mrs. Hopkins.”

“And Sheriff Moon. I see you two found each other then.”

Eleanor Hopkins runs her gaze up and down Howard’s body, a confused expression on her face.

“Good morning Mrs. Hopkins. Quite a balmy day isn’t it.”

“If you say so Sheriff.”

Eleanor looks at Howard’s bare legs and then at Vince. There’s an awkward silence between the three of them. Howard coughs. Eleanor speaks first.

“Well I should be running along. I don’t want to keep Vince here from his training.”

“Training?”

“His training to become a Deputy.”

“Oh yes, of course.”

“And Vince.”

“Yes Mrs. Hopkins?”

“Susan Glister is unmarried you know.” With that and a wink Eleanor continues along the street.

Howard looks at Vince, his head on an angle, a questioning frown on his face.

“What?”

“Vince, exactly how did you meet Mrs. Hopkins? And how do you know Miss Glister?”

“I met them looking for you this morning.”

“You were asking around about me?”

“Yeah of course I was. How do you think I found you at the cemetery?”

“I was gonna ask about that.”

Vince pauses and looks at the ground. “Actually it was Bainbridge that told me to check there.”

“What?”

“Well he didn’t tell me as such. More suggested it through a volley of insults and threats.”

Howard shakes his head. “The audacity of that man.”

Vince nods in agreement. “We’ve gotta get him. We just got to.”

The pair arrive at the jailhouse.

“Yeah, well maybe we will now I’ve you alongside me.”

“That’s sweet. I really hope I can help.”

They enter and Howard quickly walks across to his desk.

“Well I can certainly do something now that will make this quest for justice a little more official.”

Howard opens the drawer and pulls out his badge. He pins it to the front of his poncho.

Vince smirks. “Well it’s a look of sorts Howard.”

Howard reaches again into the drawer and pulls out the silver deputy’s badge. He nestles it in his palm as if it were fragile.

Vince stands quietly, blue eyes wide and sparkling, his belly doing excited little forward rolls. Howard walks to him.

“Vince, I can’t really put into words how special this badge is to me. It’s seen so much and means so much. It embodies all that I was and all that I strived to be. It represents a way of life that I once lived, and a life that was snatched away from me. It’s seen some bad things, but by god has it seen some good things too.”

“Howard, I…”

“It’s okay little man. I’m not sad. In fact I’m happy because I never thought this badge would be worn by anyone again. It deserves to be worn by someone with spirit and gumption and colour, not by some grumpy old twerp like me. I can’t imagine anyone more fitting to wear this than you Vince. You represent every value that Tommy built Moonstone on, the values of courage and compassion and community. So for everything you’ve already done, and for everything I know you will do, I’d like to have the honour of deputising you.”

With these final words Howard moves closer to Vince and pins the badge to the young man’s breast. He rests his hand over the top of the badge, and Vince places his hand on top of Howard’s.

“Repeat after me…”I, Vincent Noir, do solemnly swear…”

“It’s just Vince.”

Howard smiles. “Okay. I, Vince Noir, do solemnly swear…”

“I, Vince Noir, swear…”

“..that I will faithfully and lawfully…”

“..that I will faithfully and lawfully…”

“..perform the duties of Deputy Sheriff…”

“..perform the duties of Deputy Sheriff. And maybe some other duties too…”

“Vince!”

“Sorry.”

“Perform the duties of Deputy Sheriff in this, the town of Moonstone.”

“Perform the duties of Deputy Sheriff in this town of Moonstone.”

Howard looks deeply into Vince’s eyes and smiles widely. “I, Sheriff Howard Moon, by the power vested in me by the occupants of Moonstone, declare you the new Deputy Sheriff. Congratulations Deputy Vince Noir.”

Vince smiles widely back. He curls his fingers into Howard’s and squeezes gently.

“You’ve just made a young man very happy Sheriff Moon.”

“Yeah, about that. How old are you exactly?”

Vince grins mischievously. “As the Deputy in this town Howard I am making it a new law that you never ask me that question again.”

“But…”

“No buts. Now then, less than a couple of hours ago you were lying unconscious up a hill. What say we clean you up and get that cut treated?”

Howard nods. “Alright, whatever you say.”

“And I reckon me and you need a new look to match our new partnership. I’ve got the perfect something in mind for you Howard.”

“You have?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then get that poncho off.”

Howard sits and removes the Sheriff’s badge from his chest. He pulls the poncho off over his head and looks down at himself. His once white vest is now grimy with dirt. Across his arms and the exposed areas of leg lie crisscross scratches from the tall grass he’d been rolling in. He touches his head feeling how matted his hair is. He winces as his fingers brush the cut and notes how tight the skin on his face feels from the blood and sweat that’s dried there. He’s bruised and filthy and stinking and exposed, and yet somehow he can’t stop smiling.

Vince kissed him back.

Okay, so it was only a kiss. They’d been up to a bit more than that the night before. They’d kissed then hadn’t they? Christ, he’d wanked Vince off, pretty successfully as it happened.

But no. This was something more. This was different. Last night was a bit of fun, an experiment. Although he was in no doubt that Vince had quite enjoyed it, he felt as if, just maybe, Vince had offered himself as a sort of thank you gift.

No, the kiss then was in a whole other ball park. That was no ‘thank you’ kiss, oh no sir.

Howard was trying exceedingly hard not to jump a hundred steps ahead of himself here. It was only a kiss, albeit a fucking amazing kiss, but it was only a kiss.

He wonders what would happen if he kissed Vince again.

The Sheriff had to admit it to himself, he’s pretty scared. He’d never been in this situation before, never thought he’d get the opportunity. Was Monty right? Was this love at first sight? Love? Even the word sounded so exotic and foreign to Howard. Surely he was just besotted. Bedazzled by Vince, in awe of him even. Surely not love.

Then why did his heart feel in one breath as light as a feather and in the next as heavy as bullion? Why was Vince’s voice on repeat in his head, not actual words but the sound of his voice, a constant silvery tone, a melody at once both soothing and stimulating? And why could he not stop smiling?

Vince had kissed him back. Fully, honestly and completely, Vince had kissed him back!

“What are you smiling at Howard?”

As if on cue Vince strolls back into the room, arms full of clothes and other apparel which he promptly drops onto the table top. He has changed out of the stripy pirate shirt and into a dark shimmering number that Howard thinks might be meant for a girl. It looks great. Vince stands in front of the Sheriff and puts his hands on his hips, a gesture Howard has grown especially fond of.

“I’m smiling because of you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Anything in particular?” Vince is smiling too.

“A man shouldn’t give up his thoughts too easily Vince. Some things private should remain so.”

Vince narrows his eyes and takes a step towards Howard. “But haven’t I the right to know, if they’re about me that is.”

“No, not even then.”

Vince goes to take another step forward, but then changes his mind. Instead he grabs the water jug, a pot and a cloth from the sideboard. He puts these on the table top too, pours some water into the pot, soaks and wrings the cloth. He turns back.

“Well whatever your thoughts I’m glad they’re making you smile.”

Howard grins wider and reaches for Vince’s hand. “I’ve much to be smiling about.”

Vince untangles his hand from Howard’s and instead reaches for the bottom of the Sheriff’s vest. He starts to lift it up and away from Howard’s body, and in response Howard lifts his arms above his head. Vince pulls the item off revealing a large red bruise right in the centre of Howard’s abdomen. There’s another smaller yet more scarlet bruise across his right rib cage. Vince sucks in his breath at the sight.

“Ouch! Surely that’s not something to smile about?”

“Yeah,” says Howard grimacing, “He got me with his pointy toe on that one.”

Vince turns his attention to the gash on Howard’s head and gently dabs at it with the damp cloth. Howard winces again. Vince rinses the cloth two, three, four times, carefully and methodically washing away the worst of the blood.

“You’ll have to wash your hair properly, but right now that should do.”

Vince rinses the cloth once more and lifts Howard’s chin in a move very reminiscent of the one Howard put on him less than an hour ago. Vince smiles at the memory as he starts to wash the blood away from Howard’s forehead.

“What are you smiling at Vince?”

“Just a memory.”

“Care to share?”

“Well I don’t know, a man’s thoughts and all that.”

Vince rinses the cloth again, taking the water in the pot to a darker shade of pink. He rubs at a spot above Howard’s eyebrow and then to the side of Howard’s eye. The Sheriff closes them. Vince rinses again and cleans Howard’s cheek and jaw. He stops as he nears Howard’s mouth. Howard opens his eyes and looks up at Vince.

“You know those thoughts I was having Vince?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I’m having them again.”

“Are you?”

Vince slowly moves the wet cloth across to Howard’s moustache. Although there is no blood here he makes a very delicate yet deliberate point of smoothing it. He runs the cloth downwards, every so softly, across Howard’s lips. He’s not looking Howard in the eye. He can’t. He’s suddenly feeling a little bashful. Timorous even. He continues running the cloth along Howard’s lower lip. So gentle is he that he can barely feel the contact.

Howard, in contrast, cannot stop staring at Vince. He watches as a myriad of expressions cross the young cowboy’s face. Worried lines across the flawless forehead, the tongue poking out in concentration, the look of concern in those huge blue eyes, the pinkish tinge of a blush spreading across those soaring cheekbones. As the cloth tickles at his lips he parts them slightly. He dares to reach out and place a hand on Vince’s hipbone, and he hears Vince take a sharp intake of breath in response.

“Vince?”

Howard whispers his name so softly at first he thinks he’s imagined it. He finally risks looking at the Sheriff, the cloth still in his hand resting passive against the corner of Howard’s mouth. He’s met by those deep brown eyes, and feels his chest tighten as he interprets the look of desire that lies in them.

Howard doesn’t move. He’s transfixed by Vince. He doesn’t want to break the spell.

Vince lifts the cloth from Howard’s face and lets it drop to the floor. Instead he puts his forefinger where the cloth was and runs it across Howard’s lips, first the top and then along the bottom. Howard tightens his grip on Vince’s hip, and closes his lips around the exploring finger. He puts his tongue against the tip of it and runs his top lip down its nail.

Both men are suddenly still, immersed in each other’s gaze.

Vince removes his finger from Howard’s mouth and slowly leans down towards him. He stops, his own mouth millimetres from the Sheriff’s. He can feel the warmth of Howard’s breath against his skin.

Howard still doesn’t move. His insides catch on fire and he desperately, urgently wants to close that tiny gap and take Vince full force into a kiss, but he doesn’t. He holds his nerve. Eyes still open, breath quickening, he waits.

Vince hovers a moment longer before planting the tiniest of kisses on Howard’s parted lips. He kisses again and then, like the cloth and finger before, runs his own lips across Howard’s. While Howard’s eyes remain open, Vince’s are tightly closed now as he savours the smooth yet feathery sensation. He takes Howard’s face into his hands and kisses again, nibbling at Howard, his tongue edging out to moisten both their lips.

Howard’s mind is screaming at him. ‘Vince is kissing you! Vince is kissing you!’ Why just ten minutes ago he was happy Vince had kissed him back and now ‘Vince is kissing me!”

No longer able to restrain himself Howard starts to return the kiss. He takes Vince’s other hip and tugs lightly at them both, coaxing the younger man even further forward. As their knees knock together and their tongues corkscrew around each other, Vince parts his legs and straddles Howard’s lap. Howard runs his hands from Vince’s hips, across his waist and underneath his top, reaching all the way up the slender back.

Vince breaks this kiss and stands over Howard, eyes narrowed and darkly violaceous. He’s panting a bit, mouth partially agape. He reaches out and strokes the side of Howard’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. He tucks a stray hair behind the Sheriff’s ear.

Howard, in turn, reaches up and does the same to Vince’s cheek. He smiles and runs his hand up through Vince’s hair and around to the back of his neck. He rubs the nape for a second or two before curling his fingers around the base of Vince’s skull and guiding him back down into a kiss. As their lips meet again Howard continues to massage the back of Vince’s head, gently pulling and coaxing Vince into a sitting position. Finally, face to face, heights the same, the kiss intensifies again, each man grabbing at the others face, fingers in hair, lips kissing lips and chins and cheeks and jawlines, tongues licking, swirling, lashing at each other, retreating and repeating. Vince stops for a second, but only to whip off his top, and as he crushes his mouth back against Howard’s their individual silhouettes can no longer be defined. They melt into each other, grinding, panting, groaning and wanton, Vince’s hair becoming a thick dark bird’s nest as Howard continually tussles and grasps at it. Chests and groins grind together, low guttural sounds come from both men.

Howard returns his hands to Vince’s hips and pulls downwards on them, forcing Vince’s crotch hard onto his own. The kiss breaks as both men cry out, Howard an inarticulate husky expletive, Vince a higher pitched but no less husky gasp. Following Howard’s lead Vince pounds into Howard again, and keeps doing so as he dives back into the kiss. The moaning increases. Howard runs his hands up the inside of both of Vince’s thighs, digging his thumbs in just enough to get Vince’s attention, before moving swiftly to rub at Vince’s now hardened member. It elicits such a heavy, heaving sigh from Vince that Howard almost climaxes right there and then. With his free hand he pulls to the side his own underpants which frees his own penis, and he begins rubbing himself. At the same time he finds the knot in the drawstring of Vince’s trousers and loosens the waistband. He feeds his hand inside and clasps his fingers around Vince’s shaft, dragging out of the young man yet another carnal rasp. He starts pumping which causes Vince to pause the kiss again. He places his forehead against the Sheriff’s and rests there, breathless and quivering. Howard stops fondling himself and instead reaches for Vince’s hand. He guides it back down with him and closes Vince’s fingers fully around his own slick cock. Keeping his hand over the top of the younger man’s he encourages Vince to rub. Vince complies fully, and still forehead to forehead each man teases and jerks and strokes each other until Howard finally releases with an almost animalistic wail, bucking into Vince’s hand and making the younger man follow suit with an erotic cry.

Vince drops his head into the crook of Howard’s neck and wraps his arms around the Sheriff. Howard responds by pulling Vince into a firm and encompassing embrace, thoroughly enjoying the feel of them pressed so tight together. Through their chests each can feel the other’s heart hammering away. Howard runs his fingers through the back of Vince’s hair kissing him softly on the top of his head. Vince turns his head upon Howard’s shoulder and looks up. His hair is everywhere, his lips are bright red, his cheeks flushed and his eyes are a glassy electric blue. His voice when he finally speaks is croaky and dreamy.

“All I said was for you to take your poncho off Howard.”

Many minutes pass as the two men continue to hold each other tight. Howard still has his left arm wrapped as far around Vince as possible, and with his right he is gently stroking and massaging Vince’s hair and scalp. The younger man is nestled into him, apparently dozing. Howard can feel his soft breaths against his neck. The Sheriff’s legs are starting to go numb, and his spine is complaining about the hard wooden back of the chair, but he doesn’t want this to end. He closes his own eyes, lays his cheek gently against the top of Vince’s head, and falls into a peaceful doze himself.

“Howard! Howard!”

Howard stirs slightly. Someone, he thinks, is calling his name.

“Howard, you in there? For goodness sake, you’re going to make me climb these goddamn steps aren’t you?”

Howard opens his eyes. He is aware of a hollow ‘thunking’ noise. It seems to be coming nearer. Footsteps maybe?

“Howard!”

Outside the door?

“Howard!”

Suddenly Howard jolts fully awake at the exact same moment the door to the jailhouse is flung open and Monty steps in.

“Howard, will you answer me when I…” Monty’s words break off as he takes in the scene before him. He stands, resting heavily on his cane, mouth about as wide as it will go.

Howard in response jumps up, throwing the sleeping Vince to the floor as he does so. Vince yelps as he makes contact with the ground arse first, and hisses a string of expletives as a sharp pain shoots right through his coccyx.

“What the hell?”

Vince realises Howard isn’t looking at him and in following his gaze finds instead Monty’s astounded expression.

“Shit!”

Vince raises himself off the floor and dusts himself down, readjusting his trousers in the process. He looks again at Howard who still hasn’t moved, then back at Monty. He smiles cheekily and then shrugs at the ageing actor.

Monty stares at him for a second longer before his face lights up with a warm smile. Vince sees Howard’s shoulders relax.

“I am really sorry to disturb you boys, and clearly I have disturbed you, but this is the jailhouse and I’ve some rather upsetting news to report.”

Monty turns to Howard. “News that urgently requires the attention of our Sheriff.”

“News?”

Howard moves to stand behind the chair, putting something, anything between Monty and his exposed body.

“Yes news. No point trying to hide yourself now Howard, I’ve seen quite enough already. Instead you need to get some clothes on and come with me.”

Monty looks back to Vince.

“And you my boy! The Sheriff’s going to need his Deputy on this one.”

“What’s happened Monty?”

Montgomery, forever the actor, dramatically pauses making sure he’s got both men’s undivided attention, and then flamboyantly announces to the room.

“Lance Parrot has been murdered!”

Now it’s Howard’s turn to gape. “What?”

“Lance Parrot. He’s dead Howard. A couple of kids found him by the railroad.”

“Lance Parrot? Howard, is that the whittling guy from the cemetery?”

“Yeah. Shit!”

Vince moves towards the table. “Here Howard. Get dressed yeah. I picked a few bits out for you. I’d better change too.”

Vince nods at Monty and moves into the back cell to sort out his appearance.

Monty rummages through the items on the tabletop, and finding the trousers hands them to Howard who takes them with a thanks and starts getting dressed.

“So how do you know it is murder Monty? Could he not have been hit by a train?”

“His throat’s been cut.”

“Oh good god.”

Monty passes Howard socks and boots.

“Does his wife know?”

“Someone’s gone to see her. I came to get you.”

Howard walks to the table and picks up the shirt. Momentarily distracted he runs his thumbs over the embroidery. It has suddenly dawned on him just what outfit Vince has chosen. He smiles, then remembers where he is, and concentrates instead on dressing.

“Anyone found the weapon?”

“I don’t think so.”

The Sheriff grabs the gun-belt, running it around his waist, and tightening it. He slips on the suede jacket and attaches his Sheriff’s badge. He moves to the drawers of the desk, retrieves his gun and holsters it.

“Howard?”

Monty’s looking at him, the corner of his mouth crinkled as if he’s trying not to laugh.

“Not now Monty, okay?”

“Did you and Vince, you know?”

“I said not now.” Howard tucks his hair behind his ears and pops the hat on his head. He looks at Monty from beneath the brim and smiles broadly, “But the short answer is yes. Kind of.”

Monty smiles broadly back and rapidly claps his fingertips together. “Oh that’s fantastic. Fantastic!”

“Shhh, keep it down.”

“What? I am pretty sure Vince knows I saw.”

“I don’t want to embarrass him.”

“Are you sure it’s not you who’s embarrassed?”

“Monty please. This isn’t the time.”

“No I suppose not.”

Vince emerges again looking for all the world like he’s just stepped out of a beauty parlour. His hair is restyled beneath the white Stetson and he’s wearing a matching jacket with a dark shirt. Howard and Monty’s eyes widen as they take in his appearance, but it’s Vince who looks the most in awe as he sees Howard. He walks across and strokes the collar of the Howard’s shirt before standing on tiptoes and placing an affectionate kiss on his cheek.

“You look very handsome Sheriff.”

“As do you Vince.”

Howard bends over to retrieve Vince’s discarded shirt from the floor. He removes from it the Deputy’s badge which he clips instead to the lapel of Vince’s blazer. “There. Perfection.”

“Thanks.”

They get caught up in each other’s gaze for a moment.

“When you two are quite finished there’s the little thing of a murder to solve.”

Monty exits through the door mumbling something about Vince clearly not being embarrassed. Howard doesn’t hear him though as he bends again, this time to whisper into Vince’s ear.

“Thank you for earlier, little man, and I’m sorry I chucked you to the ground.”

Vince whispers back.

“It’s alright, you didn’t do it on purpose. We might need to start locking that door though right?”

Howard laughs, but stops suddenly.

“Vince, you sure you’re okay with this? We’re about to go out there and deal with a dead body.”

“And a grieving family. You said he had a lot of kids.”

“Shit, yeah he does.”

“I can help Howard. I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Together we’ve got this yeah.”

“Yeah, we’ve got this. Come on then, we’d best get over there.”

A small crowd is already gathered by the time Howard, Vince and Monty arrive at the scene. Howard backs them all up so he and Vince can make a private examination of the body. Lance’s throat has indeed been cut, but there is nothing else about him that suggests more. No bruises or torn clothing. His gun is still holstered on his hip. Next to him lies a cloth bag which probably dropped to the ground as he did.

As Howard begins to look closer at the wound Vince pales slightly. “You alright Deputy?”

“Yeah, I’m cool. Just close his eyes would you please.”

Howard gently pulls down the lids. “Well it’s definitely a murder. Two people at least.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well I’d say one to distract him and one to cut him from behind. Look at all this blood. He was definitely killed here. He was probably talking to someone, maybe meeting up with someone. Nothing’s stolen. He might have been led down here and then wham!”

“Wow. You got all that from this Howard? That’s pretty impressive.”

“It’s been a while, but I have had some practice in this kind of thing.”

Vince picks up the cloth bag and opens it. He pulls out a pair of trousers and a crinkled up shirt. Right at the bottom is a leather coin purse. There’s no mistaking them.

“Howard, these are yours.”

“Poor bugger didn’t even get a chance to take them home.”

“Well it mustn’t have been more than three hours ago that I saw him. If he came back to town as soon as I left him he must have met up with someone straight away.”

“That or he came down here for another reason and ran into somebody.”

“Someone he knew?”

“That doesn’t narrow it down Vince, everybody knows everybody in this town.”

“Oh yeah.”

Howard stands and addresses the onlookers. “Did anyone see anything at all? Did anyone see Lance alive within the last couple of hours?”

There’s lots of shaking of heads.

“Does anyone know where Doctor Bamshoot is?”

Lucien Hopkins steps forward. “Sheriff, he’s gone with my wife to tell Mrs. Parrot.”

“Thanks Lucien, and who found the body?”

A woman puts her hand aloft, a young boy attached to each of her legs.

“It was my two Sheriff Moon. They sometimes walk this longer way home from the school house. When they came running to me yelling and shouting about a dead body I came to investigate and saw Mr. Parrot here. I went up to the street and found Mr. Flange talking to Doctor Bamshoot. We came back down and I have been here ever since.”

Howard takes a step towards the boys who in turn take a step backwards from the big man. Vince puts his hand on Howard’s arm.

“It’s alright, let me yeah.”

Vince moves in front of Howard and puts his hand out to shake the woman’s. “Hi. My name’s Vince, Vince Noir, and I’m the new Deputy Sheriff.”

The woman takes his hand and smiles sweetly back. “Ruby Dalston and this here is Daniel and Albert. Pleasure to make your acquaintance Deputy.”

Vince drops to his knees in front of the children.

“Hi there. Now which one of you is Albert?

A small hand is raised.

“Well how do you do Albert? And that means you must be Daniel. I was hoping you could both do me a big favour. I’m new in town and don’t know my way around anywhere. I don’t know where anything is at all.”

Vince leans in a little closer and whispers, “I don’t even know where my own hat is!”

The two boys giggle and point at Vince’s hat.

“It’s on your head silly.”

“Is it? So it is. Well I clear forgot. You boys are going to be a great help to me I can see. Would you mind helping me with something else?”

Two pairs of huge brown eyes stare back at Vince, but they both nod.

“Really? That’s great. Would you show your Mother and me where the schoolhouse is and where you walked today? Do you think you can do that for me?”

The boys nod again and start to lead their Mother away from the crowd.

Vince stands and turns to Howard. “I’ll walk them back to the school house and then home. These kids don’t need to see any more. I’ll try and get them talking, find out if they know anything. Plus I’ll keep my eyes peeled for any evidence on the route.”

“Sure, that’s great thanks. We’ll have to get this body moved pretty soon. We’ll likely take it to the Doctor’s house. He is the one next to the bank.”

“Okay Howard.”

Vince winks covertly at the Sheriff before turning on his heels and jogging to catch up with the Dalston family.

Howard turns back to the gatherers. “Well, there’s no lying to you. You’ve all seen it. Lance here’s been murdered.”

“But by who Sheriff?”

Lucien speaks up again. “Lance hung around with a bad lot, was a bit of a gambler and drinker, but he was no threat to anyone really.”

“Well he must have upset someone and I guess it’s my job to try and find out.”

The small crowd responds with furrowed brows and slightly confused muttering. Howard puts both his hands up to shush them.

“I know, I know. I’ve not exactly been the best Sheriff to you all.”

Monty walks up to him and shakes his head. “No, that’s just not true. You’ve been the best Sheriff you could be under the circumstances.”

“Not sure if it’s been good enough though.”

Lucien also moves towards him. “Monty’s right Sheriff. We’re all in support of you here, it’s just, well, we haven’t seen you like this in a while.”

“Yeah, I realised it was time to start taking my job seriously again. I can’t make you all any promises though. I can only do so much.”

“We understand Sheriff, we really do. But at least you have some help now too.” Lucien nods his head in the direction Vince took with Mrs. Dalston. “Deputy Noir seems like a good guy.”

Howard smiles.

“He is yes, he’s a really good guy. And I hope you all make him feel very welcome here. And help him find his feet and that. He’s a little…inexperienced.”

Monty suppresses a chuckle, but Lucien doesn’t notice. Instead he puts his hand on Howard’s shoulder and answers, “Of course, goes without saying.” He gives the shoulder a friendly slap. “Good to see you back Sheriff.”

The small crowd nods and expresses agreement.

“Thank you. I appreciate it. As I say I’ll do my best, but we all know what I’m up against. In the case of poor Mr. Parrot here I think the best thing to do now is to get his body up to Doctor Bamshoot’s place. Would you be able to give me a hand with that?”

Various people step forward.

Monty takes Howard’s arm and pulls him off to one side. He smiles warmly.

“See how well liked you are?”

Howard smiles modestly back. “You’re a sweet guy Monty, but shut up yeah.”

“I mean it Howard. Look at these people. They’d do anything for you. They don’t expect you to change their world and they know how tough you’ve had it, but they still respect you. Please tell me you see that now.”

“But they don’t know the half of it do they? And neither does Vince. Do you think they’d all still respect me then?”

“Howard, you’ve got to stop beating yourself up about the past. Move on, for god’s sake, move on and make sure you take that beautiful young man with you.”

“But if he knew though.”

“You want my advice? I reckon if you tell him he won’t care. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“What?”

“The way he looks at you Howard. Surely you’ve seen it too.”

Howard stares at Monty for a moment or two before turning away and walking back towards the body.

Monty shakes his head after him and says quietly to himself. “Oh Howard Moon, when will you allow yourself to find happiness again?”

---

[nextpage title=”Window”]

Window

Having seen Mrs. Dalston and her boys safely home Vince decides to make his way back along the railroad rather than via the main street. He figures Howard will be busy with the Doctor and the body, and quite honestly he just needs a little time to himself.

Vince isn’t one for long sessions of self-analysis. He survives on his instincts and lives life fairly spontaneously. It is difficult for him then to ponder over everything that has happened in the last seventy-two hours. No matter how many times he tells himself to ‘go with the flow’ a part of him knows that it’s not as simple as that. These feelings that are fizzing and popping inside of him are feelings he’s never experienced before. He has no idea how to handle them really. He only knows that, for whatever reason, his body is telling him to get close to Howard. Even now, as he ambles along the narrow footpath, his desire to be next to the Sheriff burns strong inside of him. Vince wonders if it’s a manifestation of hero worship.

But then the memories flood back. Of the taste of Howard’s mouth, of Howard’s fingers weaving through his hair, of the scent of Howard’s skin, of the sound of Howard gasping and shuddering beneath his touch.

Vince smiles and shakes his head.

No, the way Howard is affecting him is well more complicated than hero worship. And he knows that he is affecting Howard in the same way.

This wasn’t altogether unusual. Vince is aware of his gift for attracting attention, and he’d been with older lovers before. But Howard didn’t exactly fit with his usual type of admirer. For a start his lovers had always been women. In itself this wasn’t bothering Vince. Yes, he was totally inexperienced in this area, but he was certainly finding being stimulated by another male enjoyable. He also found Howard’s wavering between awkwardness and confidence very arousing, not to mention those intelligent brown eyes, those strong yet gentle hands, and a chest so broad he felt sure he could curl himself up upon it.

If anything is concerning Vince here it is more the fear of commitment. In some ways it was a little late to start questioning this as already things have gone quite far. Still he can’t help but worry that he is rushing into decisions. They barely know each other do they? He’d hardly come to town expecting to land a job and a suitor. He hadn’t planned to come to town at all. And what about his mates? Soon Cam and Den would be wondering where the hell he’d gotten to. They were used to him disappearing from time to time, heck once they’d found him accidentally working in a hat shop, but more than three or four days was kind of pushing it. He’d have to find out about sending them a telegram and maybe getting his stuff sent on.

There you see, he’s doing it again. Making little plans about staying put in Moonstone. He re-shakes his head. Is Vince Noir actually ready for a relationship?

Mid thought Vince notices that the path has broadened, and looking up sees he’s nearing the murder scene. He stops walking for a moment, taking a pause to refocus. These personal issues will have to wait. He has a responsibility to the town now to help catch a murderer. A responsibility to Mrs. Parrot and to Howard. A responsibility to himself even, to prove that he has what it takes to be a lawman.

He kicks absent-mindedly at a loose stone and then immediately regrets that he might have scuffed his boot in doing so. As he bends forward to study his toe his catches sight of something glinting to the left of him. He squints and then moves towards it, stepping warily as if his subconscious already knows what it is before his consciousness catches up.

A knife.

Vince reaches to pick it up and then stops himself. He gets a vivid impression race through his mind of a dark figure standing behind Lance Parrot, this knife in hand, slicing through soft skin.

He turns away from the object and dry heaves. Swallowing down the bile he takes a couple of long, deep breaths before turning back.

It’s quite an ordinary looking knife. Not particularly ornate, not particularly large, but it does look exceedingly sharp. Vince is grateful that the blade appears relatively clean and guesses that it’s been wiped on a trouser leg or kerchief. ‘That might be something to look out for,’ he thinks to himself, ‘someone with blood on their clothes.’ He pulls from his pocket a pair of dress gloves that he’s stowed there earlier and carefully picks the knife up between the tips of his fingers. He can’t bear to touch it with his naked hands. It carries too much evil on its hilt.

The Deputy removes a glove and places the knife inside of it, acknowledging that he can never wear these items again. He wraps the second glove around the first, and puts the whole thing back into his pocket. He then takes the time to scan the ground around him, checking for anything else that might have been dropped or any marks in the dirt. He continues walking, eyes sweeping from side to side across the path, trying to pick out anything that might be suspicious.

Nothing!

Still Vince has to hand it to himself, finding the knife was a brilliant turn up. Maybe Howard was right, maybe he was a bringer of good fortune. Although he doubted Lance Parrot would think so. Vince’s mood immediately turns dour. On reflection, since he’d arrived, Howard had been beaten up, he’d been threatened and a man had been murdered. That could hardly be construed as fortuitous now could it?

Vince feels a bit sad at this thought. The need to be with Howard swarms through him again, a sudden urgent need to feel appreciated and reassured and somewhat validated. It’s already like a part of him is lost without Howard by his side.

The Deputy quickly finds the path back to the main street. After looking left and right he finds the bank, and the sound of a bawling woman tells him when he’s correctly identified the Doctor’s house. Mrs. Parrot no doubt. He opens the door quietly.

He enters a small reception room. Vince closes the door behind him and puts his back up against it, not sure how to proceed. Eleanor Hopkins is seated on one side, an arm wrapped around the shoulders of the crying woman. Vince catches Eleanor’s eye and smiles sympathetically. Eleanor smiles and nods in return. On the other side of the room Lucien Hopkins is talking to a man Vince doesn’t recognise. Lucien spots him.

“Ah Deputy. Very good, very good. The Sheriff is out the back. He said for me to take you straight through.”

“Thank you Mr. Hopkins.”

Vince follows Lucien out of the room and along a small corridor to a closed door. He knocks.

“Who is it?”

Howard’s voice.

“It’s Lucien. I have Deputy Noir with me.”

The door flies open and Howard springs out. He reaches for Vince’s wrist and drags the younger man into the room with great urgency and a hasty “Thank you Lucien.”

He kicks the door shut and spins Vince around to face him.

“Howard, easy, what’s up?”

Howard places a hand on each of Vince’s shoulders and looks him straight in the eye. “Nothing’s up, just glad to see you is all. Where on earth have you been?”

“I took Mrs. Dalston home as I said and then went for a bit of a walk.”

“Bit of a walk? Vince, a man has been murdered. It might not be safe.”

“I’m okay aren’t I? Besides don’t you think Lance was killed for a specific reason?”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Sorry. I’m just a bit jumpy. This thing’s got my head spinning around.”

“It’s alright. It’s sweet you worry.”

Vince stands on his tiptoes in order to plant a kiss on Howard’s cheek, but in suddenly being able to see over Howard’s shoulder realises that they are not alone in the room. Bent over a table, luckily with his back to the pair, is Doctor Bamshoot.

Vince quickly drops back down to his heels and mouths’ a ‘sorry’ to Howard. Howard raises an eyebrow and turns away from Vince.

“Doctor. Let me introduce you to my new Deputy, Vince Noir.”

The Doctor raises his head and Vince sees that it’s the body of Lance Parrot he’s been leaning over. No surprise there really.

“Yes, we’ve already met briefly.”

“Good afternoon Doctor Bamshoot.”

“Excuse me for a moment longer won’t you gentlemen. I’ve nearly finished my examinations.” The Doctor returns to the body.

Vince grabs Howard’s arm. “Can I talk to you? Somewhere private?”

Howard frowns with curiosity. “Of course. This way.”

The two men pass through a small utility room and yet another door that leads back outside. Vince tucks himself up against the wall and beckons Howard to do the same.

“I don’t know who to trust yet Howard so I thought I should only show this to you.”

Vince pulls from his pocket the bundle of gloves and carefully unwraps the knife. He holds it up.

“I think I found the murder weapon.”

Howard backs up a little in alarm, hands raised in astonishment. “Where the hell..?”

“Down by the tracks, not far from where the body was found actually.”

“And you picked it up?”

“Well yeah, I couldn’t exactly leave it lying around now could I?”

Howard reaches out and takes the implement gingerly between his thumb and forefinger. He holds it up to the light and studies it closely.

“Well it’s definitely sharp enough to do the job.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“There’s not much else to suggest the owner though is there?”

“Not really Howard. It’s not new though is it? That hilt looks fairly worn.”

“Sure is. Someone will miss this. We just need to figure out who.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Not sure exactly. I’ve asked the Doctor to check Lance over fully, to make sure there’s no other signs of injury. I’ll talk to his wife when she’s a little more responsive and see if she knows why someone might want to kill her husband. Other than that I guess I’ll have to try and interview everyone in town.”

“And the knife?”

“Well there’s no point stashing it away. I’ll show it around a few people, see if anyone recognises it.”

Howard re-wraps the blade in the gloves.

“Anything else Vince? Did you get anything more out of the Dalston boys?”

“No. They were having a race, they stumbled across the body and then they ran home to fetch their mother.”

“Where’s Mr. Dalston?”

“Out of town for a couple more days. He works for the railroad as an engineer. She said he’s in the next town over.”

“Yeah, that sounds genuine enough. Mr. Dalston always struck me as a decent sort. Well then, let’s get back inside and see what the Doctor has found.”

As they turn to go back in the Doctor unexpectedly appears at the door, wiping his hands.

“Sorry gentlemen but there’s nothing to add I’m afraid. Lance Parrot was killed by a knife slicing through his throat and nothing else. Other than the odd minor cut and bruise there’s nothing to suggest he’s been beaten or bound or anything such thing. If there’s any consolation in this I’d say he died very quickly, probably before he even realised what was happening.”

“Thanks Doctor.”

“What about Mrs. Parrot?” Vince’s eyes have widened in concern, “She seems very distressed.”

“I’ll go to her now. Maybe give her a drop of laudanum to help calm her. Are you happy for her to see her husband now Sheriff?”

“Yes of course Doctor.”

“Well I’ll bid you good day then gentlemen. I believe I’ve Corky Hamilton waiting outside too. Ready to measure Lance up I should imagine.”

The Doctor returns back inside.

“Corky Hamilton?”

“Town carpenter. He makes all the coffins, not that there’s a regular demand for them.”

“Of course.”

The two men are quiet for a moment. When they both look back at each other it’s uncannily at the same time.

Vince smiles. “So what now then?”

Howard smiles back. “Well I don’t believe we’ve had a meal yet today have we?”

“How can you think of food at a time like this?”

“A man can’t work on an empty stomach. Besides I really want to get home and finish cleaning myself up.”

“You reckon you might need some help with that again?”

Howard laughs. “I reckon I’m going to need to scrub my mind with all the dirty images you’re putting in there.”

“I can’t stop thinking of that too. I mean it’s not like I want to, well not right now when we’re trying to be all serious and professional.”

Howard nods in agreement.

“You’re right. We’ve got to stay focused and we’ve got to be more careful. We can trust Monty but I don’t want word to get out.”

“No problem.”

They look fondly at each other again still smiling.

“What goes on behind closed doors is nobody’s business though is it Vince?”

“Closed and locked doors?”

“Yeah, locked is probably a good idea.”

“Well then no Howard, that’s nobody’s business but ours.”

Again they hold each other’s gaze before Howard suddenly darts around the corner of the building with Vince in hot pursuit.

“Howard, stop a sec. Come help me with this.”

Howard pulls up just before he rounds the last corner. He turns to look back at Vince who’s standing pointing at a large metal tub leaning up against the back of the jailhouse.

“Seriously Vince?”

“Look, you’re filthy and I’m not getting any cleaner what with, well, you know, sex and murder and all.”

Howard hushes him. “Vince.”

“C’mon Howard. You’ll love it. Think how good you’ll feel after.”

“But it’s going to take ages to fill it.”

“It’ll be worth it though.”

Howard stands still for a moment, staring at Vince. Eventually though he smiles and moves towards the tub. He lifts it above his head in one fluid motion. Vince looks impressed.

“I got this Vince. You’d better get some water then. There’s a pail or two out here. I’ll get the stove on. I’ll start some food too.”

“Nice one.”

It must have taken over an hour to heat the amount of water required, but as Howard stands in front of the large metal tub, now naked under his cloak, he knows in one short step he’s going to feel utterly content.

“You sure you don’t want to hop in first Vince?”

Vince is standing by the stove, another large pan on the boil. “As tempting as that sounds this is all yours.”

Howard puts one foot into the water. The warmth of it travels up his leg. He lifts the bottom of his cloak and steps in with his other foot. He turns to face Vince, the steam rising to surround him. He starts to lift the cloak higher but then hesitates as he realises that Vince has moved and is now sitting on the top end of the sofa. His arms are crossed and he’s staring at him with a cute, lopsided grin on his face.

Howard hugs himself. “Turn around then.”
Vince grins wider. “No way”

Howard shifts a little uncomfortably under Vince’s gaze. The water laps at the side of the tub.

“Vince please.”

“I said no way! I’ve worked hard for this, collecting water back and forth, clearing the furniture away to make room. And anyway you’re one to talk considering the amount of times I’ve caught you looking at me.”

“I said I was sorry about that.”

“Yeah, you did. But I’m still not turning around.”

“Vince…”

“Look Howard, do you remember when I first met you and you told me never to touch you.”

“Yeah.” Howard pulls the cloak tighter around himself.

“Well you touched me first remember, and then I touched you. We’ve really touched each other now and it’s good isn’t it.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“So you were wrong to not want me to touch you.”

“Vince, I know, but…”

“It’s alright Howard. I’m not trying to trip you up. What I’m trying to say is what if we go that route again.”

“Hmm?”

“Well you don’t want me to look at you, so how about you look at me first, then I look at you, and then, well, it’ll all be good too.”

“I’m not sure if I understand what you’re…oh…”

Vince is already up from the arm of the sofa and undoing the buttons on his shirt. Not that there are many to undo being that Vince has a habit of only buttoning a couple anyway.

His shirt falls open.

“God you’re beautiful,”

It is Vince’s turn to hesitate. “What?”

“You’re beautiful Vince. You can stand there and do that because you’re beautiful. I can’t do that. What am I?” Howard looks down at himself, “I can’t offer you that. I’m just an ageing old gunslinger, way past my prime. You don’t want to look at me. But you Vince, you’re like a work of goddamn art. Look at you! You’ve got skin like fuckin’ silk and a body that looks brand new, and eyes like…”

“Howard, stop it!”

“..eyes like…”

“Please stop it. Howard, you can’t mean that.”

“Of course I mean it.”

“I’ve been called a lot of things in my time, but beautiful just ain’t one of them.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Yeah, of course. All the bloody time, trying my damndest to do something amazing with this shambles of a body of mine. I know I dress well and I like my hair. Actually I really like my hair, but that’s it really. Look at me properly. I’m bony and pale. There’s nothing of me, not like you. You’ve got muscles Howard. You’re tall and strong and bronzed. And my stupid face. What’s going on there? Too much that’s what! But your face is kind and welcoming. Your eyes are warm and intelligent. I think mine scare people.”

“Your eyes don’t scare people Vince, they dazzle people. They’re incredible. Mine! Well where are mine? When I haven’t shaved it’s hard to tell one side of my head from the other. And as for muscles I don’t think so. I’ve a pot belly if that’s what you mean. My legs are okay, I don’t mind my legs, but as to what is resting on top of them the less said the better.”

Both men cease talking. They stare, as has become their way, directly into each other’s eyes. Grins start to appear in the corners of their mouths and suddenly both of them are laughing heartily.

“Should we just agree to disagree then that we’re both gorgeous?”

Vince re-fastens the two centre buttons on his shirt still laughing. “Yeah I guess. Let’s just agree to that. Now for goodness sake get your kit off and sit down before the water goes cold.”

Vince turns around, his back to the Sheriff.

Howard quickly unties the cloak and lowers himself into the water, sighing as he does so. He lies back, submerging as much of himself as he can. The tub is big, but Howard is too.

“Can I turn around now?”

“Sure. Thanks for that. It’s just, you know…”

“Yeah, I know. Still, I’m going to have to see a bit if you want the water topped up.”

“That’s fine actually. I feel more comfortable about it now I’m actually in.”

“That makes no sense.”

“I think maybe it’s that I’m less on display.”

Vince walks towards him with the pot in his hands. “I wasn’t lying though Howard. You’ve really nothing to be ashamed of.”

Howard opens one eye and smiles at him. “And neither have you Vince.”

Vince pours the hot water into the bath taking care not to hit Howard directly with any. “It’s not burning you is it?”

“No that’s lovely.”

Howard settles even further back.

Vince places the pot on the floor and sits down next to the side of the bath. He crosses both his arms along the edge of it and pillows his head on them.

“You look tired little man.”

Howard takes his arm out of the water and places it around Vince’s shoulders. He gently strokes Vince’s hair.

Vince closes his eyes, enjoying the sensation. “I am a bit. It’s been quite the day.”

“Yep, sure has.”

Vince opens his eyes again. “Howard, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can?”

“Do you think Bainbridge has something to do with Lance Parrot’s death?”

Howard sighs. ‘I don’t doubt it Vince. I know I shouldn’t jump to that conclusion, but who else could it be?”

“He wouldn’t have done it himself though would he?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“I wonder what it’s all about.”

“Money probably. Money or betrayal. I don’t know exactly, but it’s my opportunity Vince. If I can prove he had something to do with Lance’s murder, or even if I can finally charge some of those men of his, well that’ll be a happy day.”

Vince closes his eyes. He exhales and allows himself to fully enjoy the pleasure given by Howard stroking his hair. He’s never allowed anyone to show his bonce this much attention before. He thinks there’s probably something in that fact, something quite significant.

“Vince I need to tell you something.”

Vince murmurs an ‘mmm’ in return. He feels so perfectly sleepy and he doesn’t want Howard to stop massaging his head. He knows that scrunched up on the floor leaning over a metal bath and lying on your own arms is less than the ideal way to take a kip, but for now he can’t imagine a more perfect place. He feels so content.

“Vince.”

Vince manages a “yeah?”

Howard stops stroking his head and instead shakes him lightly on the shoulder. “I’m sorry but I have to tell you.”

Vince opens one eye and focuses blearily on Howard. Seeing the anguish in Howard’s face he forces open the second.

“Howard, what is it?”

It hits him that Howard looks more than just anguished. He looks downright petrified. Vince sits up in sudden concern.

“What?”

He reaches out to put a hand against Howard’s face but the Sheriff turns away from him. Vince is left hanging for a moment before he decides to lay his hand on Howard’s arm instead.

“What’s going on?”

Still turned away Howard starts speaking. His voice is flat in tone, a sign that Vince now knows means he’s about to say something serious or difficult. The young man mentally prepares himself.

“Me and you Vince. Have we got something here?”

Vince takes a deep breath. “Um, I think, maybe…”

“If we analyse it too much it might not work anymore though. We might fuck it up.”

Vince frowns. “Well let’s not analyse it then.”

“But I need to tell you something and that might mean analysing it a bit, and if we analyse it I think I might scare you off.”

“Do you actually believe that?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh okay”

Vince pats Howard on the arm and goes to stand, but Howard quickly turns back and grabs his wrist.

“Please Vince hear me out.”

“I was just going to get you some more water.”

“Please.” Howard loosens his grip on Vince’s wrist and cups his cheek instead. “I haven’t exactly told you everything.”

Vince nods and puts his hand on top of Howard’s. He kisses the Sheriff’s palm lightly.

“You know nothing you tell me is going to change anything right?”

Howard softly rubs the spot where Vince’s side-burn meets his hairline.

“I dunno. It might change something. I think you’ve a right to know everything though.”

“Have I? Look, you don’t have to keep looking backwards all the time and worrying about everything I may or may not think. You can relax with me you know.”

“But still I feel I should tell you everything.”

“Howard, I really like you. Nothing you tell me will change that, but please don’t tell me anything if you don’t want to. You don’t have to keep torturing yourself this way. We can just have fun can’t we?”

“That’s just it Vince. I don’t think I can have fun until you know the whole story. Maybe then, once I know that you have all the facts, maybe then I can relax too.”

“So you do want to analyse this.”

“I don’t but I do. I’m scared of telling you stuff and I’m scared of not telling you stuff.”

Vince kisses Howard’s hand once more and pushes himself up onto his knees. “Sleep with me.”

Howard’s features show utter confusion.

“Excuse me? What? What do you mean?”

Vince leans in closer to Howard’s face. “You want to tell me this thing that’s so big and awful that you think it might change us. Well I want to curl up next to you while you tell me, so sleep with me tonight.”

“Where?” Howard falters slightly.

“What do you mean where?”

“Well the beds are small.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“But why?”

“Howard, stop questioning everything. I want you to hold me. Is that so difficult to understand? I want to be in your arms when you tell me this big, bad thing. I want you to see that I’m not going to run away or judge you or get upset.”

“But you might judge me.”

“Right, that’s it.”

Vince leans over and grabs Howard’s head firmly. He launches his lips onto the Sheriff’s, kissing roughly and urgently, forcing his tongue into Howard’s mouth.

Howard startles at first but then he grabs Vince back. Their teeth clash together but he doesn’t care. They guzzle each other greedily, the water sloshing and spilling over the side of the bath as they frantically devour each other. With a brutish strength Howard suddenly yanks Vince forward and half onto him. Vince mentally curses as he feels the water soak through his shirt and part of his trousers, but he tries to ignore it. Instead he focuses back on Howard who is sucking the life out of his tongue.

The Sheriff is thinking about Vince’s clothes too, but not for the same reasons. He just wants to feel skin and hurriedly searches Vince’s chest area for the buttons. It’s awkward as Vince is lying on top of him and he just can’t seem to manoeuvre his fingers properly underneath. “Oh fuck it” he says suddenly before grabbing a piece of the shirt between each fist and pulling forcefully. The buttons pop off.

“Howard!”

“I don’t care.”

“But I do, I like this shirt.”

“Shut up Vince.”

Howard grabs Vince’s head and pulls him into another breath-stealing kiss before the young man can argue more. With his free hand he works the shirt off of Vince’s arms and flings it across the room. He runs his hands down Vince’s back and begins to massage and squeeze the soft flesh. He works one hand around to the front of Vince’s trousers and tugs at the fastening. Vince gasps against him.

“Take them off!”

Howard stops kissing Vince and bites gently at his neck instead. Vince gasps again.

“I said take them off.”

Vince pushes himself away and stands up shakily. He clutches at the front of his trousers ready to wrench them down.

“Slower!”

Vince hesitates, catches his breath and then slowly starts to undo the drawstring.

“No wait!”

Vince stops as Howard lays back and submerges himself fully under the water. He watches as Howard rubs his hair and face, washing away some of the day’s grime, before reemerging dripping and glistening. Howard’s wet lashes highlight the sparkle in his deep brown eyes. Vince swallows.

“Okay I’m ready, now take them off.”

“Hmm?” Vince is more than a little distracted, especially as Howard has grasped hold of himself and is moving his fist slowly up and down his own length.

“I said strip.”

Vince returns his attention to his trousers and using both his hands coaxes the drawstring undone. He pushes the trousers down but stops at the precise point where his V lines disappear into the dark mass of his pubic hair.

Howard speeds up his pace.

Vince continues to lower his pants, bending with them as they fall softly around his ankles. He kicks them away and then straightens back up. He’s never felt at the same time so exposed and yet so lusted after. He stands there, like a pale Adonis, nothing moving save for the rise and fall of his chest and the twitching of his own penis as he savours the sight of Howard touching himself because of him.

Howard’s eyes have widened significantly, quite a feat considering their dimensions.

“Come here.”

Vince moves towards the tub. He kneels down and meets Howard’s lips with his own, the kiss this time slower. Howard kisses him back but as his breath becomes more jagged he has to pull away. Vince licks upwards towards his ear and whispers into it,

“Would you like some help?”

Howard nods and moves his hand out of the way allowing Vince to grasp his cock. He shudders. He’s already so close from his own ministrations it takes but a few strokes from Vince, along with the fact the Vince is nibbling at his ear, for Howard to climax.

Vince trails back to Howard’s mouth and the two men share a long, deep kiss before Howard breaks free. He grabs Vince’s face between his hands and stares directly into the blue whirlpools.

“Your turn little man,” he growls sexily.

Vince trembles slightly under his touch. “Howard, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Howard holds his face for a few seconds more before suddenly rising up out of the bath, water cascading off of him and onto the floor around the tub. He steps out and grabs Vince in a full body clinch, kissing and embracing as much of Vince as he can, before lifting the smaller man off of his feet and throwing him roughly onto the couch.

“I said your turn.” Howard dives on top of him.

“..Oomph…”

“It’s time to find out exactly what you like Deputy.”

“Honestly Howard you don’t have to.”

“Do you not want me to?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just…”

“What about this?”

“…Oheurrghhfuck Howard!” Vince grabs at Howard’s head, simultaneously clutching at and stroking the soft curls. “Christ that feels good. Uhh. Uhh… hhuuhha… ahhuuh haahhuuhhaahhuu… kay Howard… I think it’s safe to say I like that… huh ha huh ha.”

“It gets better.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna make it even better. Ready?”

“I dunno. What you gonna… Erghh nnnn… Hhuhhahhuhhahhuhha… ashithhuuhha… Howard Huuha…”

Vince arches his back away from the couch, his eyes screwed tight shut and mouth wide open.

“OhchristHoward. How the fuck? Oh shit… i’mgonnahhahuu… hhahujhahuhajjjhh… shhihahhh… gonna…… fuckhhow.”

“What’s that Vince? You want me to stop?”

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

“So just here then?”

“…eeeryggghuh ah uh ah uh ah uh-Ah-uh-Ah-uh-Ahh…”

“God you look beautiful.”

“Howard shut… up…uhh-hhhhhaa… – fuck I’m close, uhh I’m so fuckin’ close, uhhenn, fuck… uh-haaaaaa-uhh-hhhhhaaaa-hhhhhhuuuuuu-haa-ennnn..”

“Come on Vince.”

“Howard, goddammit…Uhhhhhhh….aaaaaaahhhh…”

“Come on.”

“Huuuhhhh… hhhhahh… huhh… haa… Howard… hah… hhah… huh… hhuuh… hhhu… fuck… fuck… fuck… hhhhuu… I’m… I’m… hhhhhmm fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!!

“Jesus Christ Vince!”

Howard kisses his way up Vince’s stomach and chest before placing the softest of pecks on Vince’s cheek. He then flops heavily onto his back, wrapping his arm behind Vince’s neck as he does so and pulling the younger man into a strong embrace against him. Vince, still panting, kisses Howard’s shoulder before snuggling into it and closing his eyes. Howard entwines his fingers through Vince’s hair and pushes his nose into it breathing Vince in.

“You are always new.”

Vince opens one eye. “Umm? What’s that?”

“You are always new. The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.”

“Did you write that Howard?”

“No, John Keats did.”

“It’s lovely.”

“Seems fitting.”

Vince recloses his eye. “Go on then.”

“What?”

“Recite some more.”

“I can’t remember it properly. It was a letter I think. This bit’s my favourite though…”

Howard clears his throat. “My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it. I never felt my mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment, upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of the window. You always concentrate my whole senses.”

Vince nestles further into Howard. “That’s well nice.”

“It’s true though Vince, those words. It’s how I feel about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and that’s why I need to tell you that thing now.”

Vince opens his eyes and raises himself up enough to look directly into Howard’s.

“I actually want you to tell me now Howard.”

Howard cocks one eyebrow. “Vince, this isn’t a joke.”

“Damn right this isn’t a joke!” Look, I’m here, I’m really here. I’m lying naked and spent in your arms. If you don’t tell me now then I’m…

“I used to be a whore.”

“..gonna get up and…what?”

Howard sighs deeply. “I used to be a whore Vince, a pinchcock, a rich man’s dock.”

“When?”

Howard sighs again. “Years ago, when I was not much more than a kid. I was born in England you see, in Leeds. My father was a cloth merchant but I always wanted a better life for myself than that. I heard so many stories about America from the men my father would buy and sell to. It sounded so exciting.”

“I’ve always thought London sounded exciting. I’d love to go there.”

“London never really interested me to be honest, but America! Well as soon as I was old enough I packed a bag, said goodbye to my family and talked myself on to a canal boat heading south to Liverpool. I soon found myself wandering the port. I didn’t know what I was doing. I thought I’d be able to find a ship and get a position on it. I didn’t care what I did, deckhand, cook’s skivvy, anything. I just wanted to go to The New World. But all I found instead were gangs and whores and rich and poor living side-by-side.”

“So you were just walking around on your own?”

“Yeah, so stupid now when I think of it. Eventually I came across a pub that looked safe enough. I went in and asked if anyone knew of any ship’s sailing to America. Some bloke came over and offered me a beer. He got me some food, and was really friendly. I didn’t think anything of it. He said he could give me a bed for the night and I followed him. Stupid, naive, innocent me.”

“Were there others?”

“Yeah, a whole house of us. Maybe ten or twelve.”

“All boys?”

“Yep.”

“Shit!”

“I know.”

“How long were you there for?”

“I dunno Vince. A couple of years, maybe a bit less. It’s all quite a blur to be honest.”

“But who, you know, who did you…?”

“Anyone who asked for it, but we had regulars. Some were really nice actually. They’d feed me, let me take a bath, mend my clothes. Others weren’t quite so amiable.”

Howard points to his shoulder area and a patch of scarring.

“I had noticed that Howard but I didn’t want to ask.”

“It’s a burn. One got a bit mad at me when I answered him back. Chucked a scalding pot of broth at me and then made me eat it off the floor.”

“Oh Howard.”

“There was this one guy though. Thank the lord for this one guy. He told me his name was Stephen but I always thought that was an alias. I had an appointment with him the day after the broth incident and so he saw my burns. He got things in motion straight away. I’d always told him about my dreams to go to America and do you know what he did? He made it happen. I still don’t know to this day how or why he did it, but that very night I found myself in new clothes with a new identity bound for the New World on a ship laden with god only knows what.”

“And eventually to Moonstone?”

“Yeah, Moonstone the long way around, via Boston first. I fell back into the whoring for a bit there to make some easy money, but then I realised that America was not England. I could be whoever I wanted to be here. I spent my money on a gun and practiced shooting it day and night. I learnt how to ride a horse. I hitched rides, and eventually began offering my services as protection to convoys heading west. I was big and strong and folks seemed to trust me. One day I met Tommy who was coming out here to set up a town as Sheriff. He saw some potential in me, or some such thing, and that was that.”

“Wow, you’ve done a lot.”

“Sure have.”

“I must seem so boring to you.”

“What? No! Of course not. You’ve brought me back to life Vince is what you’ve done. For years I’ve been trapped in my own self-loathing. You’ve opened my eyes again.”

“I can hardly tell.”

“Oi!”

Howard pokes Vince in the ribs. They fall silent for a bit. Vince settles back down against Howard’s chest.

“So you’re not bothered then Vince?”

“I don’t think so Howard. It was ages ago wasn’t it. I’m hardly gonna hold that against you.”

Howard strokes Vince’s hair again.

“I appreciate your acceptance Vince, but it doesn’t quite end there.”

Vince turns his head to look up at the Sheriff through his dark lashes. A lump forms in the back of Howard’s throat as he struggles to meet the gaze.

“What else?”

Howard looks away. “Well the last time it happened wasn’t quite that long ago.”

“How long’s not that long?”

“About two years.”

Vince tries not to react. Instead he puts his face back against Howard’s chest, listening to the Sheriff’s heartbeat banging out a rapid rhythm that echoes through his ear canal.

Howard’s waiting for a reaction. Nothing. He continues, “Give or take six months.”

Howard looks down at the top of Vince’s head, wishing for all the world he could read the younger man’s thoughts right now. Then again if he did, and he didn’t like what he heard, then he’d only have himself to blame.

“It’s alright Howard, go on.”

Howard jumps slightly, surprised by Vince’s sudden words rumbling through him. Instead of continuing though he pushes himself out from underneath Vince and spins into a seated position. He puts his head in his hands. Vince sits upright too and moves in close beside Howard. He wraps his arms as best he can around the big man’s shoulders and rests his cheek against his back.

“I’m still here lawman. I’m not going anywhere.”

Howard leans towards Vince allowing himself to be pulled into a hug. It’s his turn to rest his head against Vince’s chest. Vince embraces Howard’s head tight to him and kisses the top of it tenderly. He rocks Howard gently back and forth, trying to offer comfort as best he knows how. He whispers into those wispy curls,

“I’m here.”

Vince reaches behind him and grabs a throw from the back of the couch. He pulls it around his own left shoulder and wraps the rest of it around the both of them. He continues to hold the Sheriff this way, waiting patiently for Howard’s courage to return.

Howard feels numb. He knows it’s ridiculous to have come this far and then stop so suddenly, but this is it, the last great reveal. He cannot believe how much he has already confided in this man, this man whose arms he now lies enclosed within, emotionally and literally naked. He closes his eyes and takes the time to enjoy the feeling of being held. It’s been so long for him, so very long.

Eventually Howard raises his head from Vince’s chest and turns to face him. Vince’s eyes widen in expectation and unadulterated compassion. Howard sighs and shakes his head in disbelief.

“You really are still here.”

Vince nods.

Howard leans forward and plants a kiss on Vince lips. He then rises from the couch, retrieves his trousers from the floor and slips them on. Vince wraps the throw tighter around himself, still quiet, still patient, watching Howard’s every move with that quizzical look on his face.

Howard glances at him and offers a weak smile. Vince smiles back.

“Do you want your pants?”

“I’m not going anywhere Howard.”

Howard bends down and picks them off the floor. He turns and offers them to Vince. “Still, you might feel more comfortable.”

Vince thinks about slapping Howard’s hand away. He is starting to feel frustrated with the waiting. Instead though he takes the offered trousers and places them next to him on the couch.

“Thanks Howard but they’re still wet.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. It was worth it.”

Howard stands awkwardly looking Vince in the eye for a second or two before turning away. “I could make us some more food.”

“Not hungry.”

“A drink then. I could go get us another bottle.”

“I’m fine Howard.”

Howard points to the metal tub. “Might see about getting this shifted though. Bit of a nuisance isn’t it really.”

“It can wait.”

“Still, it would be easier to move around without it here wouldn’t it.”

“Howard.”

“We’re going to have to empty a bit out first though. It’s way too heavy to lift as it is.”

“Howard.”

“Shame I haven’t got any flowers or anything to tip it out on. Seems a bit of a waste to just ditch it onto the dirt.”

“Howard!”

Howard finally looks back at Vince. “I’m sorry little man.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve dragged you into this mess.”

“It’s not a mess from where I’m sitting.”

“What? Of course it is. Murder and prostitution and secrets.”

“Well it’s a bit of a mess then, but that’s not what I’m interested in right now.”

“I want to tell you, really I do.”

“Then do.”

“But you might…”

“I won’t.”

“But you might.”

“Oh for god’s sake Howard…”

Vince stands abruptly, the throw falling away from his body. He points at the Sheriff,

“…just tell me already.”

Howard is momentarily stunned by the sight of a fractionally angry, slim, pale, naked man shaking a finger at him. Stunned that is until the force of Vince’s beauty jolts him back awake. In one stride he is again in front of Vince, hands clasped to either side of the young man’s face, kissing him with a new found vigour.

It’s Vince’s turn to be stunned, but he kisses back just as eagerly, allowing Howard to suck every ounce of anger out of his body. As the last drop of it leaves him he pulls backwards.

“Please Howard.”

Howard opens his eyes, his lips still pursed. He relaxes them. “Do you still want to sleep with me tonight?”

“Yes.”

There’s no hesitation.

Howard takes a breath. “About two years ago I…” Howard stops and cocks his head.

“You what..?”

“Can you hear that Vince?”

“What did you do Howard?”

“Ssshhhhh!”

“What?”

“That!”

Howard spins suddenly away from Vince and moves quickly toward the door, successfully navigating the metal tub as he does so. “Shhh” he hisses again and he puts his ear up against it.

Vince grabs his still damp pants and tugs them on as quickly as he can. He can hear it now too, voices, and quite a few of them by the sounds of it.

“Quick, chuck me my shirt will you.”

Vince does so in one graceful movement at the same time collecting up his own. He puts his arms through the holes before remembering it is now button-less. “Shit” he mumbles before whipping it back off and running out toward the bedroom area.

Howard finishes buttoning his and steps across to the window. Looking out he can’t see anything clearly, the sun having already set an hour before, but he can definitely hear the sound of voices approaching.

“Vince, what are you doing?”

“Trying to find a shirt.”

“Hurry up.”

“Alright, it’s your fault I’ve not got one isn’t it.”

The voices are nearer now and Howard can make out the odd word.

“..obvious…”

“..I don’t think…”

“..no-one else…”

Nearer and nearer. He risks a look through the window again and can make out a small mass of bodies in the gloom. They are making their way purposefully towards the office. Howard ducks out of sight but as quick as a flash there’s a pounding on the wood.

“Moon, open this door!”

Howard pauses briefly before replying.

“What do you want Bainbridge?”

As Howard responds Vince re-enters the room, fully dressed in clean trousers, shirt and a new poncho. His deputy’s badge is pinned to his breast. He mouths a “what’s happening?” to the Sheriff but gets a shrug as an answer.

“Moon, open this door now or by golly I’ll break the fucker down.”

“Now why the hell would I want to talk to you Bainbridge?”

“Howard, it’s Monty. I’m sorry, but we do need to talk to you.”

“Monty?”

“There’s a few of us here Howard. Can you come out for a bit and chat with us please.”

Howard pauses, not sure how to answer his friend. He looks at Vince who simply nods at him.

“Okay, I’ll come out, but cool your engines Bainbridge.”

Howard tucks his shirt into the waistband of his trousers and fastens his gun belt around his hips, checking as he does so that there’s bullets in his firearm. He pulls on his boots and straightens his badge before turning to the door.

“Howard, should I come too?”

“Not for the moment. Let me find out what’s going on first.”

Vince nervously bites at his bottom lip.

“Be careful alright.”

“It’s fine. Monty’s out there, and I think I saw Chalky and Doctor Bamshoot too.”

“Alright, but I’m just here yeah.”

“I know, you’re not going anywhere!”

The two men share a smile before Howard ducks out of the room. Vince goes to the door and puts his ear up against it in order to hear what’s going on.

Howard squints at each member of the group in turn and nods a hello at all of them before finally giving Dixon Bainbridge his full attention.

“Now then, what seems to be the trouble?”

Bainbridge growls in response.

“Where’s that stable boy of yours Sheriff?”

On the other side of the door Vince frowns at the obvious reference to himself.

“If you mean Deputy Noir well then he’s inside. Why?”

“Because he killed Lance Parrot.”

Vince does more than just frown at that. He feels his knees buckle slightly.

Howard too feels like he’s just received a blow to the stomach. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Well who else could it have been Moon? You tell me the kid turns up in town penniless and without work. He probably killed Lance for money.”

Howard looks at the others. “Monty, surely you don’t believe this crap do you?”

“Of course not, but there are one or two questions people want to ask the lad.”

“Like what for pity’s sake?”

Doctor Bamshoot steps towards Howard.

“Like why he took so long coming back to my house after leaving you at the murder scene this morning.”

“You know why. He was escorting Mrs. Dalston home.”

“But we’ve spoken to her Sheriff and he didn’t stay there that long.”

“And he did go to the cemetery this morning didn’t he.” It was Lucien Hopkin’s turn to speak up.

“Well yes, but that was only to find me.”

“But that was the last place anyone saw Lance alive.”

“And the last known whereabouts of your Deputy before the body was found.”

Howard looks from face to face in utter astonishment. He looks back to Mr. Hopkins.

“But your wife saw us Lucien, in the street this morning.”

“Yes, and she said you were both acting very peculiarly. She said that you were wearing a mantle thing?!”

“Umm, I was. A poncho to be precise, but that’s not the point.”

Bainbridge takes a step towards him, a twinkle in his eye. “But where had you been Sheriff? Why the funny clothes?”

Howard looks warily around the group again and then back at Dixon. “I thought you knew Bainbridge. I had a fall this morning. Quite a bad one actually. Knocked me out for a bit. Luckily Vince found me and helped me back to town. My trousers were, umm, ripped, so he lent me his poncho.”

Bainbridge grins widely. “So you were unconscious were you Sheriff?”

“Yes.”

“Impossible then isn’t it for you to know the activities of your Deputy during this time?”

Howard’s shoulders sag as he realises his mistake. “You can’t actually think that Deputy Noir had anything to do with this?”

He looks again at the group.

“Monty please.”

“It’s not me Howard. I’m here to support you.”

“Chalky?”

“I don’t even know the lad. I haven’t met him yet.”

“Doctor Bamshoot? You met Vince this morning, surely you can’t think him capable of this?”

“He is a stranger in this town and I do think he could help answer a few questions for us.”

Howard’s shoulders slump again but he realises that resistance is useless. Instead he nods a few times. “Okay, I’ll get him. But please mind your manners alright, go easy on him.”

Howard turns to Bainbridge and adds, “And if you so much as touch a hair on his head…”

But Dixon steps around him and storms up to the door. “Back off Sheriff, we just want answers.”

He grabs the handle and charges inside yelling “Oi Pretty Boy!” taking in the scene of the bathtub and the wet floor and the wall hangings in one swoop.

“What the..?”

Howard pushes past him. “Vince, it’s alright, they just want to ask you a few questions. Vince!”

Lucien and Doctor Bamshoot go to move inside too but Monty stops them.

“Let the Sheriff get him. The kid’s probably scared.”

They all shuffle backwards onto the veranda.

Howard and Dixon however just stand in the Sheriff’s office staring at each other.

“Where is he Moon?”

“Don’t give me this bullshit Bainbridge. You know full well he had nothing to do with Lance’s murder. You’re just trying to frame him.”

Bainbridge smiles cruelly. “Well if that’s the case Sheriff then where the hell is he?”

Howard glances around the room again and calls “Vince” one more time already knowing that they’ll be no answer, knowing that in that back bedroom cell is a small window, knowing that only last year he’d finally gotten around to removing the bars that made him feel so claustrophobic, knowing that someone as skinny and agile as Vince would have no problem at all in slipping through it. And to top it all he knows, with absolute certainty, that somewhere in Moonstone his beautiful electro-kid is hiding in fear, selflessly putting himself in danger in order to take the burden of compromise off of Howard.

It is at this precise moment, in the middle of all these accusations and foolish choices, and at the end of a very bruising and tiring day, that Howard Moon suddenly realises he’s in love.

Vince looks up at the moon. It is massive tonight, bigger than he’s seen it in ages.

“Well that’s bloody typical,” he directs at it, “when I could do with some darkness there you are lighting up every nook and cranny.”

Vince flattens himself along the side of a building and edges towards the corner. He peeks out cautiously. At one end of the street he spots three figures and from their guffawing he guesses that they’re recent patrons of The Salty Bullet. He looks up at the Moon again.

“Well you could at least stop looking like you’re laughing at me.”

The Moon doesn’t respond.

“I could be imprisoned for this you know, or worse. That Bainbridge is an evil son of a bitch.”

The Moon remains unresponsive.

“I don’t know what to do. For once I genuinely don’t know what to do. Should I stay or should I go?”

The Moon keeps schtum.

“Fat lot of use you are.”

Vince peers out again. The men are still there but not really looking in his direction.

“If I can get to the other side of the street then at least I can reach the railroad, maybe find an empty boxcar to hide out in for a bit.”

Suddenly, as if on cue, a cloud begins to pass across The Moon. The sky immediately darkens and the town is covered in a gloomy blanket. Vince smiles widely before quickly scuttling across the street and darting into another narrow gap. He drops to a crouch and looks up at the Moon once more.

“Sorry mate, I take it all back. You’ve been great.”

The Moon winks at him.

Vince does a double-take then shakes the idea out of his head. “Must be the stress of the situation,” he thinks before raising himself back to standing and slowly sliding his body along the wall. “Honestly, how the hell did I get myself here?”

He reaches the end of the building and crouches again. Before him is a small path that leads in between a large bunch of lean-tos. Somewhere amongst them he can hear a low snuffling noise and figures it’s likely pigs. He considers for a split second sneaking into the sty but then thinks better of it. He might be on the run but he still has his dignity to uphold.

Vince looks in every possible direction again, listening intently the whole time. When nothing seems to move or make a sound other than the pigs he decides to risk the path. He jogs across to the first hut and presses himself against it. Still nothing. He slowly takes a step, then another, then another, until he has rounded the first hut and is comfortably hidden between the second and third. He stops to take a breather, trying to settle his nerves and steady his heartbeat. Somewhere to the right of him he hears the pigs snort at each other.

The distance to the fourth, fifth and sixth hut isn’t huge, but he is obstructed somewhat by a large woodpile. He also can’t really see around the buildings anymore to check the path. He listens hard again. Still just the pigs.

He moves forward towards the heap of wood and carefully, so as not to make a crunch underfoot, starts to step around it.

He’s nearly half way when suddenly he stops dead, every fibre of his body tense, his head turned slightly upward, and his eyes huge.

“…if we don’t find it Christ only knows what he’ll do to us so just get a move on will ya.”

“I’m going as fast as I can. I didn’t have time to fasten my shoes.”

“Which way?”

“I can’t think, it smells too bad.”

“Smells bad! You’re such a fool. Let’s go this way.”

Unable to stay where he is Vince risks the noise of running around the rest of the wood pile. He notices a gap beneath one of the huts and launches himself into it, slamming his left shoulder into a heavy strut in the process. He manages to suppress an expletive.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“I thought I heard something up ahead.”

“Heard what you imbecile?”

“I dunno, something. They say these sheds are haunted, you know.”

“Who says?”

“Everyone.”

“Why would ghosts want to haunt a few mouldy old huts and some pigs?”

“I dunno Joey. Maybe it’s a ghost pig.”

“Shut up you fool.”

“Or maybe it’s Lance Parrot.”

“I said shut up.”

“Do you believe in ghosts Joey?”

“No, but if you don’t shut up I’ll be trying to turn you into one very soon.”

Vince makes himself as small as possible beneath the shed and watches as two sets of feet pass by his hiding place.

“So, where do we start Bobby?”

“I think it was somewhere by some boxes or a bucket or something.”

“Are you serious?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“Near a box or a bucket. Is this the best you can remember?”

“I dunno Joey. I panicked didn’t I? There was blood on my hands and I panicked.”

“But you didn’t have to chuck the knife away did ya you cretin?”

Beneath the hut Vince’s ears prick up even further. He quietly crawls out from under it, trying to ignore the discomfort in his arm, and at a fast tiptoe pace begins to follow the two men along the path. He is careful to stay out of sight.

“Left or right then?”

“Ummm, right. No left.”

“You sure?”

“Left, I think.”

Vince squats down behind a barrel and contemplates his next move. It’s clearly evident that the two men ahead of him are looking for the knife that he’d found himself only a few hours earlier, the knife which was now hidden down the inside of his left boot. He’d grabbed it just before he’d squeezed out of the cell window. It wasn’t an overly considered action, it was more an instinctual thing. Partly he’d felt the need to arm himself in case Bainbridge caught him running away, but mostly he didn’t want Howard to be found with such evidence. He didn’t want Howard to have to defend him, to make excuses for him. But whatever his motives Vince knew two things for absolute sure, running away made him look guilty as hell and having the knife made him look guilty as hell. He definitely looked guilty as hell. He couldn’t drag Howard into this with him though, couldn’t expect the Sheriff to put everything on the line for him. He briefly considers, as he squats there, whether Howard will even believe his innocence. This thought makes him shudder. It scares him even more than the thought of a death sentence.

As he hears the men move on Vince stands. Pain sears through his shoulder and he’s forced to take some deep breaths before edging around the barrel and following the voices.

Soon Bobby and Joey come to the end of the outhouses and step out onto the wider path that runs alongside the railroad.

“I still don’t understand why you ended up with the knife anyway?”

“Because he gave it to me.”

“What after he, you know, did the deed?”

“Yeah, he just said ‘here’ and strolled off wiping his hands.”

“And you’re still not gonna tell me who he is?”

“I can’t… I mustn’t.”

“But he’s still in town?”

“I think so Joey. I don’t get told everything you know.”

“Pull the other one Bobby, you’re the Mayor’s little pet and you know it.”

“Yeah but… look here!”

“Yeah but look here what?”

“No here. I think this is it. Look, I said boxes and buckets didn’t I.”

“Did you put it in a bucket or a box?”

“No, I dropped it.”

“Why wouldn’t you put it in one you idiot?”

“I said, I panicked.”

“For fucks sake.”

Vince manages to find himself a spot in the shadow of the last outhouse. He risks sneaking a look out and sees a smallish man with long light-coloured hair kicking half-heartedly at the grass. On his hands and knees, frantically patting the ground and turning over boxes, is the second man. Vince pulls his head back in and continues to listen.

“It’s not here Joey, it’s not here, oh my god, it’s not here.”

“Calm down you buffoon. Are you even sure this is the right place?”

“I’m sure, I swear it is. Over there is where, you know, it was done, and then I walked over here, dropped the knife and ducked up along the path between the pig sheds.”

“And you’re positive no-one saw you?”

“There wasn’t anybody about.”

“What about those kids that found Lance?”

“No Joey, that was later. There was nobody around when I was here.”

“Do you think he came back to get the knife?”

“I don’t think he even knew which way I went, let alone that I dropped it. He was long gone.”

“Shit!”

“What are we gonna do?”

“What are you gonna do more like? Ain’t nothing to do with me is it?”

“You gotta help me though Joey. It’s your knife after all, and Bainbridge will kill me if he knows I lost it.”

“But he doesn’t know you lost it yet does he?”

“No, but it’s only a matter of time before he asks what I’ve done with it.”

“Why the hell did you have to use my knife anyway? I lent it to you so you’d help me out with that money. I didn’t think for one moment you’d use it to kill a guy.”

“I didn’t know that either Joey, I promise. Bainbridge told me to get a sharp knife so I did.”

“Does he know it’s mine?”

“No, of course not.”

“Well then I want nothing more to do with this.”

“But Joey please.”

“I’m sorry Bobby, I can’t. You want my advice, tell him you dropped it down a well or something, but don’t bring my name into it you hear. I want no further part.”

Joey turns and walks away from Bobby, luckily for Vince along the railroad and not back towards him.

Bobby Fossil stays perfectly still, facing in the direction Joey’s walking. He’s on his knees, hands clenched together, looking for all the world like he’s praying. Perhaps he is.

Suddenly a light bulb comes on in Vince’s head. It’s not an especially bright one, but still it gives Vince an idea. He quietly lies down on his front and begins to crawl snake-like out from the shadow of the building. It’s awkward with the use of only one arm, and the urge to hurry before he’s seen duels with the necessity to move slowly to lessen the pain. But Bobby Fossil still has his back to him. When he feels that he’s close enough, but not too close, Vince takes the knife from his boot. He then reaches out as far as he can and places the item in a patch of short grass just to the side of the first bucket. He gingerly inches himself backwards.

Bob Fossil isn’t a brave man. He isn’t a clever man. He is a man if you want to be technical, but he didn’t always feel like a man. Tonight is one of those times. If he was a little braver, if he was a little cleverer then maybe, just maybe, he could come up with a great story and convince his boss that the knife was not going to be a problem. But he isn’t either and so as he kneels there, under the light of a particularly bright moon, as the realisation slowly dawns on him that the only kind of man he was ever likely to be was a dead man. The history between him and Bainbridge was probably not going to be enough this time.

Vince slithers back into the shadows, stands up, breathing hard from the exertion, and sneaks a peek around the corner. He can make out the knife glinting in the moonlight and can see Fossil still kneeling on the path. He actually appears to be rocking slightly, and Vince can hear him mumbling to himself. The Deputy frowns. The sight is fairly pitiful really, and given other circumstances he might even allow himself to feel sorry for this man, but Lance Parrot is dead, a murderer is running free, and Vince’s own life is in danger. There really isn’t another option.

Vince retreats quietly back up the path about twenty metres or so before turning back around. He adjusts his bad arm into a comfortable(ish) position before he starts whistling tunefully, walking back towards Fossil and making his footfall deliberately noisy. He wants Fossil to hear him.

And hear him he does. In fact Bobby Fossil very nearly wets himself. He jumps to his feet and turns as Vince rounds the corner and comes into view. Both men stop and stare at each other, Bobby in genuine surprise, Vince using all the acting skills he can muster.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Deputy Vince Noir, and you are?”

“Deputy?”

Vince pulls out the badge that he’s been keeping in his pocket and holds it up for Fossil to see.

“I didn’t know that Sheriff Moon had a new Deputy.”

“Well you do now.”

Vince glances down subtly to double-check where the knife is lying, and then takes a step towards it.

“So then, you haven’t told me your name.”

“Oh yeah, I’m Bob Fossil, but folks call me Bobby. I run the bank.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

Vince holds out his hand but doesn’t move, encouraging Fossil to come closer in order to shake it. The bank manager does just that.

“So you do know there was a murder here earlier today don’t you?”

“I did hear that Deputy.”

“And you don’t think that it’s maybe a little dangerous for you to be walking around in these parts.”

“It probably is yes. I was on my way home though.”

“Okay, good.”

Vince stares at Fossil in an attempt to make him feel uncomfortable under his glare. His shoulder is really throbbing now but he resists the urge to rub it. His stance and steely gaze has the desired effect as Fossil begins shuffling his feet and wringing his hands.

Vince twirls his deputy’s badge between his fingers feigning a sort of impatient deliberation. Fossil shuffles some more.

“Should I be going then Deputy?”

Vince stays quiet still twirling the badge.

“Like you say, it could be dangerous out here. I should probably get going.”

Vince twirls the badge a little harder and lets it drop from his fingers.

“Oops.”

“Here let me get that for you Deputy.”

As Bobby Fossil bends down to retrieve Vince’s badge he catches sight of the knife. Vince knows he’s caught sight of it because he pauses briefly before straightening back up, and his eyes show only fear when they finally meet again with his own.

Fossil passes the badge over to Vince, his hand noticeably shaking.

Vince stares at him a second longer before letting a smile warm his features. He nods.

“Thank you. That’s very decent of you. I’ll be getting back to the jailhouse myself now. I’m sure Sheriff Moon could do with my help in solving this crime. I’ll bid you goodnight.”

Bob Fossil’s voice is a little shaky as it leaves him. “Ye…yes, goodnight Mr. Deputy Sir, and…and nice to meet you too.”

Vince turns away from Fossil, his smile widening as he does so. He walks back to the outhouses knowing that the bank manager is going to pick up that knife as soon as he rounds the corner.

As he finds himself back by the wood pile Vince stops to feel his shoulder. “Crap!” He can feel a bit of a lump and is struggling to move his arm at all. Crawling around on it hasn’t helped. His plan with Bobby just might work if only he can get back to Howard quickly, fix his arm and avoid Bainbridge and company in the process.

And he prays that Howard will believe he’s innocent.

---

[nextpage title=”Caught”]

Caught

“Howard?”

Howard turns as he hears Monty call his name from the door. He then turns back to face Bainbridge.

“Get out!”

Dixon Bainbridge looks momentarily startled before responding with his usual bristle.

“I asked you where the hell he is Moon.”

“And I told you to get out!” Howard takes an aggressive step towards the Mayor, his fists balled and jaw set. Monty rushes forward to stand between the two of them.

“Now gentlemen, it’s all alright.”

“It’s not alright. That murdering little shit has done a runner.”

Howard takes another step forward, forcefully pushing against Monty in the process. A deep growl escapes from him.

Monty pushes firmly back. “Howard please. He’s just trying to wind you up.”

“I’m doing nothing of the sort Flange. That Noir kid has made good his escape. What more proof of guilt do you need, the filthy lowlife?”

“Vince didn’t do this Bainbridge! HE DID NOT DO THIS!”

Howard’s raised voice brings the other men into the office from outside.

“What’s going on?”

“Where is he?”

Bainbridge squares his shoulders and stares directly into Howard’s eyes. “If by ‘he’ you mean the delinquent Deputy that the good Sheriff here has decided to not only allow into this town but probably also into his pants, well then he’s fucked off.”

“Why you…!” Howard pushes Monty to the side and throws a punch at the Mayor, making good solid contact with the side of his chin. Howard tries to follow up the first punch with a second but Monty and Chalky have already grabbed an arm each.

“Stop Howard. Stop it. It’s not worth it for god’s sake.”

Howard struggles against both of them, animalistic snarls still coming from deep within his throat.

Bainbridge turns back to look at him, massaging his jaw, a small trickle of blood running from his slightly split lip.

“That was a big mistake Moon.”

“I said get out Bainbridge!”

“I swear you will live to regret that punch.”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Monty and Chalky pull on Howard as he tries to reach towards the Mayor again.

Bainbridge, relishing that his work here is done, walks slowly to the door. Before he passes through he turns once more to Howard.

“Okay Moon I’m leaving, but know this. I’m going back to The Bullet, I’m going to get a group of men together and we’re going to rip this town apart looking for that pretty jailbait trash of yours.”

With an arrogant flourish Bainbridge turns back on his heels and exits the room.

Howard shakes his friends off of his arms and walks out after him. The other men follow suit. They stand on the porch watching the Mayor descend the steps and cross the street.

“You shouldn’t have hit him Howard.”

“He deserved it.”

“He’ll do it you know. He’ll go and round up a posse.”

“I know.”

“Have you any idea where Vince could have gone?”

Howard shakes his head.

“He isn’t doing himself any favours here Sheriff.”

Lucien looks guiltily away as Howard glares at him for that comment. The Doctor nods.

“I’m sorry Sheriff but Lucien’s right. Deputy Noir is not helping himself by hiding. Are you sure you don’t know where he could have run to?”

Howard softens his glare and shakes his head again. “I don’t. But I need to find him before they do.”

Howard moves off to the side and leans over the rail of the veranda. He removes his hat, closes his eyes and runs his hands through his hair. Monty follows him and softly places a hand on his shoulder. He gives it a squeeze.

Howard opens his eyes and jumps as he suddenly catches sight of a pair of piercing blue ones staring right back at him from below. Vince smiles weakly up at him.

Howard grabs Monty’s wrist from his shoulder and subtly pulls him forward so he too can see. Monty keeps his face expressionless but a twinkle runs through his eyes. He spins to face the rest of the men.

“I’ve an idea. I think we should all go and join Bainbridge’s posse.”

Lucien looks confused but the Doctor fills in the blanks.

“That’s not a bad idea Montgomery. We being there might help keep things a little calmer.”

Chalky runs his hands over his apron. “Well I’ve got to be getting back to The Bullet anyway. If I can be of use I will.”

Lucien shrugs. “Sure, if you think it might help. But Sheriff…”

Howard looks back over his shoulder at him.

“…I don’t mean to offend you or question your judgement or anything, but are you absolutely sure Deputy Noir has nothing to do with this.”

Howard turns back to look again into Vince’s eyes.

“Lucien, I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life.”

“Well okay then Sheriff.”

Howard shakes hands with each of them and watches as they leave his veranda and disappear around the corner. They are completely out of sight before he dares to speak.

“Vince, you alright?”

“Yeah, sorta Howard. I could do with some help though and I really need to tell you something. Is the coast clear?”

Howard walks to either end of the veranda checking in multiple directions for any unknown observers. When he’s satisfied that all is fine he descends the steps and makes his way around to the side of the building.

“Vince, oh my god what happened?”

The Deputy is still half in shadow but Howard can see he’s standing a little awkwardly, one arm wrapped around himself. His fringe is only partially successful in concealing his pained expression.

“Is it safe for me to come back inside? I could do with a change of clothes.”

Howard nods and puts his arm around Vince’s shoulder ready to guide him into the jailhouse. Vince sharply winces as he does so.

“Vince?”

“Sorry, just got a bit of a knock to my arm here. Seems to be getting more painful.”

Howard gives Vince a gentle rub between the shoulder blades.

“Okay well we’ll need to take a look at that in some proper light. Can you walk?”

“Yeah, it’s just my arm. Are you sure there’s no-one around to see us?”

Howard double-checks before laying a palm in the small of Vince’s back and pushing him forward.

“Quick, go!”

Howard and Vince scamper as fast as they can back up the steps and into the jailhouse. Howard locks the door behind them and leads Vince into the back cell. He sits the smaller man down onto his bed and gestures to Vince’s shirt.

“Can I?”

Vince nods but bites his bottom lip as Howard undoes the remaining buttons, (again there’s only a couple done up), and lifts the material away from the shoulder. The Deputy winces.

“You might have popped it out Vince.”

“Nah, it’ll be alright.”

Vince looks much paler than usual. He bites extra hard on his lip as Howard softly probes the area.

“You’ve definitely dislocated it.”

“That’s bad is it?”

“Well it’s not good.”

“Can you fix it?”

“Me?”

“Well I can’t trust anyone else to do it, and it’s really starting to hurt now.”

“Umm, well can you hold your arm out in front of you at all? Can you bend it?”

Vince slowly lifts his arm away from his side but only gets so far before an excruciatingly painful spasm swells through his shoulder muscle.

“Aargh.”

“Vince, it’s okay, stop.”

“I feel faint.”

Vince’s eyes roll slightly in his head and his skin pales to near translucent. He flails towards Howard with his good hand and grabs the Sheriff’s shirt front in a sweaty vice grip. Howard leans in to steady him.

“Here lie down.”

Vince twists Howard’s shirt front even tighter between his fingers and clenches his jaw.

“Unnnhhh.”

“Please, you have to lie down.”

Howard wraps his strong arms behind Vince and gently pushes him backwards.

“Shit, this well hurts.”

“I know little man. Just breathe deep okay”

“What are you doing?”

Howard is carefully wrapping his thumb around its counterpart on the hand of Vince’s bad arm. He firmly grips Vince’s slim wrist with both of his large palms.

“Put your head back and keep breathing.”

“Howard? Aargh!”

“Head back! Try to relax.”

“I can’t, what’re you doing?”

“I need to straighten your arm out so it’s over the side of the bed.”

“What? Why?”

“So I can pull on it.”

“Howard, no.”

“But you asked me to help.”

“Well I’ve changed my mind.”

“Vince, it isn’t going to get any better on its own.”

Another spasm hits Vince making him yelp.

“Okay, but be quick about it.”

“I’m trying to be quick about it. You just need to relax.”

Howard finally has Vince’s arm fully extended. He starts pulling slowly and steadily away from Vince’s body. Vince grits his teeth and clenches his eyes.

“Ugh…shit.”

“I know, I know. Hang on.”

Howard reaches down and removes the boot from his left foot. He then puts his foot up against the side of Vince’s torso giving himself a little extra leverage and pulls again. Vince tries to muffle his distress into the crook of his right arm.

All of a sudden, and accompanied by a long string of swear words from the Deputy, the joint pops back into place.

Howard rushes out the room and returns moments later with a couple of cool wet cloths. He lightly lays one across the swollen shoulder, the other he folds and lays across Vince’s forehead. This pulls a smile from the younger man.

“Thank you.”

“What the hell happened?”

Vince moves to sit upright but Howard lays a hand on his chest.

“I think you should stay down. You still look a bit peaky.”

“But Howard, you need to go and arrest Bobby Fossil now.”

“What?”

“Bobby Fossil.”

“I know who he is. Why do I need to arrest him?”

“Bobby Fossil has the knife and he knows who murdered Lance. You’ve got to go and get him.”

“But how do you…”

“I heard him talking about it to someone else.”

“Who?”

“Err, Joey someone or other.”

“Joey the Moose?”

“I dunno for sure, but it’s Joey’s knife. Bobby borrowed it from him but it was used to kill Lance. Then Bobby got told to get rid of it, but I guess he screwed up because I found it didn’t I?”

“Yeah, so hang on, who has it now?”

“Bobby.”

“And how does he have it? I thought it was here.”

“It was. I took it.”

“But now Bobby has it?”

“Yeah, look Howard, I know it sounds really confusing, and I will explain properly later, but you’ve got no time to listen to it all. You’ve got to go and arrest Bobby before Bainbridge speaks to him.”

“Bainbridge? How does he fit into this?”

“He knew about the knife.”

“Oh, blooming heck.”

“I know but please Howard, go!”

“Vince, it’s okay, I don’t think Bainbridge is rushing to go and talk to Fossil tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s too busy raising a posse to find you that’s why.”

“What?”

“You remember when you ran off?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that Howard. I didn’t want it to get difficult for you. I guess I screwed that up, didn’t I?”

“Well let’s just say it probably wasn’t your best move.”

“But if I hadn’t run off I wouldn’t have overheard Fossil talking about the knife would I?”

“No, I guess not.”

Vince makes to sit up again and this time Howard helps him.

“You’ve got to go Howard.”

“I can’t leave you here. You need my help.”

“I’m fine now. Well a bit sore, but the shoulder feels much better now it’s back in place. This is too important. Go be the Sheriff!”

“You promise you’ll stay here?”

“I promise.”

“And you’ll lock the door behind me?”

“Alright, yeah.”

“And you’ll lie back down and try to rest until I’m back.”

Vince grins at Howard, his eyes sparkling with affection.

“What are you smiling at?”

“You.”

“Me?”

Vince smiles wider. “You know for a moment out there I scared myself into thinking you may not believe me.”

“Believe you? Vince, what do you mean?”

“I thought maybe you’d start having doubts about me. Start thinking that I might be involved in this murder.”

Howard chuckles. “You know the thought never crossed my mind.”

“Get lost, it must have done. I do appear pretty guilty now don’t I?”

“Look, I’m an experienced Sheriff. I can tell the face of a guilty man when I see it. You simply are not capable of such a thing.”

“What ya mean?”

“Well you’re hardly the murdering type Vince.”

“Are you saying I’m soft?”

“No. Well yes, sort of. Not soft though, more breezy.”

“Breezy?”

“Yeah.”

“Breezy? Really?”

“Well, yeah, kind of.”

“I’m not sure how to take that. Is that even a compliment?”

“Okay, it’s maybe not quite the right word. You’re… light.”

“Light? What, like a feather?”

“Ha, no, more like warm light.”

“Howard, I don’t think that even makes sense.”

“It makes every sense to me little man.”

Howard leans in towards Vince, and pauses an inch from the Deputy’s face. He whispers, “You are sunshine,” before resting his lips against the younger man’s mouth.

The kiss is slow.

It’s slow and it’s deep and it’s agonisingly affectionate.

An outsider would say it’s the kiss of two people devoted to each other, two people who really love each other, two people who complete each other. One wouldn’t guess that these men hardly know each other, that they’ve only recently met, that up until twenty-four hours ago neither thought they had the capacity to feel such a thing as devotion.

If ever there is an irrefutable example of total and utter mutual respect it’s this kiss. If ever there is an allegory of desire and allegiance and sentiment it’s this kiss. If ever there is a kiss to be celebrated, illustrated, discussed and acclaimed it’s this kiss.

Howard and Vince part reluctantly. They rest forehead to forehead for a moment, each savouring the sweet after-taste of the other, before Howard puts his boot back on and raises himself from the bed. Vince stands too, wobbles a bit, and holds onto Howard’s arm.

“Hey careful now.”

“I’m just a little dizzy.”

“You’ll come and lie back down when I’m gone won’t you?”

“Yes Howard.”

“Good.”

The two of them turn into each other and embrace. Vince rests his cheek against Howard’s chest. Howard runs his fingers up and down Vince’s naked back and nuzzles into the top of his hair.

“I kind of don’t want you to go now Howard. This is nice.”

“And you make me almost forget all the shit that’s going on Vince. I don’t want to leave either, but…”

“But it might be your only opportunity. Please go and arrest Fossil.”

Howard kisses the top of Vince’s head and moves away. Vince follows.

“Don’t do anything too rash or heroic now though will you Sheriff?”

Howard opens the door. “I won’t. I don’t think Fossil is the kind to put up a fight anyway.”

Howard steps through. “Remember to lock it Vince.”

“I will.”

Howard starts to pull the door shut, but Vince suddenly grabs hold of it and keeps it ajar.

“Howard.”

“Yeah?”

Vince straightens Howard’s collar before running his finger lovingly across the Sheriff’s badge.

“They say you should never meet your hero right, but, regardless of what happens next, I’m really glad I met you.”

“Vince, it will be alright you know. We’ll work this out and solve this thing.”

“I dunno, I wanna believe that’s true but I’ve just got a bit of a bad feeling…”

Howard takes Vince’s hand in both of his. “Go and lie down little man, I’ll be back soon.”

Vince nods and closes the door. Howard waits until he hears the sound of the key being turned in the lock before descending the steps and heading in the direction of Bobby Fossil’s house behind the bank.

From the opposite corner, the pale green eyes of a young red-haired girl track his every move.

Vince locks the door and looks at the tub of cold water. He considers how much he’d love to have a hot bath to help soothe his aching shoulder, but as things currently stand it’s completely out of the question. He’d have to go outside to get more water for a start. Being seen wasn’t the only issue, he doubted he’d even be able to lift a bucket. Instead he starts to make his way back to the bedroom area figuring if he can’t soak then he can at least try lying down. He is far too worried about Howard to attempt sleep. Really, what he wants more than anything is to be out there with him.

Just as he reaches the cell there’s a light knock at the door. Vince freezes. The knock is repeated.

Vince tiptoes back toward the front of the jailhouse. He gets the urge to look through the window but resists, knowing he’ll be spotted straight away if he does. He decides instead to stay quiet and pretend no-one’s home.

“Deputy Noir.”

Vince frowns. The voice sounds quite young.

“Deputy Noir please. I know you’re in there. I saw you.”

Vince puts his ear right up against the door. Could this be a trick? Could there be a posse of men outside ready to grab him? He focuses on listening but can hear nothing. The knock comes again.

“Please Deputy Noir. I really need your help. Please, I can’t go anywhere else.”

Vince is in two minds. But if this is a trap and they know he’s inside why would they lure him out this way? Surely they’d break the windows or something. His soft heart makes the decision for him.

“Umm, hi. Who is it please?”

“It’s me, Lillian White.”

“Lillian White?”

“We met this morning Deputy Noir. Please can I come in, I have to talk to you.”

“Are you alright Miss White?”

“Not really Deputy. Please?”

Vince hesitates slightly before turning the key in the lock. He’s trying to remember Lillian White but can’t seem to place her. Can’t that is until he opens the door to reveal the flaming red-haired girl that had casually flirted with him on the street only hours before. Vince blinks at her a couple of times. His mind flitters across the memories of how much has happened to him since then, and he can’t help but take a guilty glance at the tub. Lillian notices.

“I’m sorry Deputy, are you about to take a dip?”

“What, no, I…”

His voice trails off as he remembers he’s also topless. There’s a twinkle in Lillian’s eye as she registers and happily appreciates this fact.

“No, I wasn’t actually and you’re not disturbing me. I might just go and grab a shirt though.”

“If you must.”

Vince hears but pretends he doesn’t. He walks into the back cell to retrieve his shirt from the bed.

“So Miss White, what seems to be the trouble?”

“Hmmm?”

“You said you needed some help.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“If you’d rather speak to the Sheriff I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Vince has the shirt on one arm, but as he attempts to put his left into the sleeve a hot pain shoots through his shoulder. He is unable to suppress a wince.

“You okay Deputy?”

Vince spins around to find Lillian leaning against the entrance to the bedroom(s). He winces again as his shoulder complains.

“You’re in pain.”

“I’m fine.” Vince tries again to put his arm into the sleeve but has to stop before he clears his elbow.

He looks at Lillian who’s watching him intently.

“I’m fine, really. Just a little shoulder injury.”

Lillian takes a couple of steps towards him. Vince edges backwards until his legs hit the side of the bed.

“Miss White?”

“I can help.”

Lillian gently takes hold of the lapel and the shirt front and slowly guides it over Vince’s bicep and shoulder. She straightens the collar leaving her hand resting there briefly before running her fingers downwards along the button holes. She begins to do up the fastenings starting from the bottom. Vince puts his hand on hers to stop her.

“Miss White please. I can manage.”

Lillian pushes his hand away. “Don’t be silly Deputy, and you can call me Lillian if you like.” Her little finger tickles his skin as she moves up his button line.

“Miss White, um Lillian, you said you needed me for something.”

Lillian pauses as she reaches the very centre of Vince’s breastbone. Her finger catches slightly in his chest hair and her cheeks pink in response. She looks up at him coquettishly and risks rubbing her finger against him with a little more intent.

“I am in a sort of trouble yes Deputy. There’s this man you see.”

Vince swallows. Lillian watches, fascinated by the soft bounce of his Adam’s apple.

“Man?”

“Yes a man.”

“Has he hurt you Lillian?”

“No, but he might.” Lillian moves her hand fully inside Vince’s shirt and places her palm flat against his chest. “At least I’ve been told the first time hurts a little.”

Vince grabs her wrist. “Miss White, what are you doing?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you Deputy. Not since the first time I saw you this morning.”

“Miss White I…”

Lillian removes her hand from his grip and instead puts a finger up to his mouth. At the same time she raises her knee and rubs her leg against his inner thigh.

“No, Miss White, please…”

Lillian lifts her leg higher, pressing herself brazenly against his crotch. As Vince tries to move the back of his knees bend against the bed and instead he finds himself suddenly seated. Lillian quickly responds, straddling his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I want you Deputy. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

“No, please, get off me.”

Before Vince can even attempt to stand Lillian pushes herself against him. His weak shoulder gives out and he’s on his back, Lillian’s lips pressed to his, her hand grabbing at him through the front of his trousers.

“Aargh…gggettouuffmmmee.”

Lillian’s tongue is invading his mouth before he knows it, one hand busy re-undoing the buttons on his shirt, the other trying to work itself beneath his waistband. Vince has to stop this, he has to stop this now.

“I said no!”

Finally finding his strength Vince grabs Lillian’s shoulders and forces them both back into a sitting position. He then pushes her away from him and to the side giving himself room to stand. His shoulder is yelling at him like crazy, but he’s choosing to ignore it as he re-adjusts his trousers and hastily re-buttons his shirt.

Lillian’s lying on the bed, her eyes watery as tears begin to well. She glares at Vince, a mixture of hatred and fear and misunderstanding in her expression. Vince glares back, but then eases as he realises how upset she looks.

“I’m sorry Lillian but I said no.”

Lillian too stands and smooths down the front of her dress. “Am I not beautiful enough for you?”

Vince goes to put a comforting hand on her arm but then thinks better of it. “You’re very beautiful Lillian.”

“Then why?”

Vince runs his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know you.”

“Has that stopped you before?”

“Well I…” Vince starts to protest but then pauses. Lying wouldn’t help the situation. “You’re very young.”

“I’m not that young.”

“Well you’re a lot younger than me.”

“How old are you?”

“I…” Vince falters again.

“You’re making excuses. What was all that this morning then if you aren’t interested in me?”

“I don’t know what you mean Lillian.”

“This morning when you winked at me.”

“Did I? I don’t know. I was being friendly.”

“I thought you fancied me.”

Vince shakes his head slowly. “I’m sorry Lillian.”

“Is that it then? Is that all you’re going to say? You make me think you like me and then you throw me to the dirt.”

“I, honestly, I, I…”

“You piece of shit.” Lillian’s eyes well up again as she shoves past Vince and out of the cell area. Vince turns after her.

“Miss White please.”

“Oh it’s back to Miss White again now is it? You men are all the same, winking and flirting and leading us on. I’m just an object to you is that it? Just something to be ogled at.”

“I think you might be overreacting here a little.”

“Overreacting. How dare you!”

“Miss White I didn’t expect any of this to happen. What could I have done? You said you were in trouble. I’m a lawman, it’s my job to help. I didn’t know you felt this way.”

Lillian reaches for the door, tears on her cheeks and red hot anger evident in her eyes.

“Please Miss White…Lillian. Please stay here until you’ve calmed down. I can make you some coffee.”

“Calmed down! Coffee! Why, you are an absolute arsehole!”

Lillian grabs the handle and flings the door wide open. She charges out onto the veranda. Vince follows, forgetting in the moment about his own personal safety. As she reaches the steps Lillian reels back around towards him. “I thought you were different, different at least to all the men my father hangs around with. Drunkard dullard idiots the lot of them, spending all hours at the Bullet, gambling and fighting and chasing whores.”

“Miss White…”

“Save it Deputy. You’ve not much time now so save it.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re looking for you, you know. Mayor Bainbridge was at the Bullet earlier rounding up groups of men. My Father’s one of them.”

“Your Father…?”

“Always been loyal to the Mayor my Dad.”

“But if you knew they were looking for me why did you come here?”

“God you’re dumb. Because I like you and I thought you liked me. Because I fancied a shag and you’re a good looking guy.”

“You were going to give me your virginity Lillian. That’s not someone simply wanting a shag.”

“I thought you’d be gentle.”

“Oh Lillian.” Vince takes a step towards her, eyes full of compassion. Lillian looks at him for a second and briefly softens before the anger returns. She takes one step down.

“Please, you can’t go.”

“Why? Are you scared of what I’ll do next?”

“What will you do next?”

“Well Dad’s always wanted to get further into Mayor Bainbridge’s good books. He’s due a promotion. Seems I can help him out there can’t I?”

“Please Lillian, you can’t tell him.”

“But he’s my Father, I tell him everything.”

“Please!”

“You gonna beg me?”

“No, but I…”

“Lillian, is that you?” Both Vince and Lillian’s heads spin around at the sound of the male voice behind them.

“Daddy?”

“Lillian?”

“Shit!”

A rather tall flame-haired man starts walking towards the jailhouse. “Lillian sweetheart, come down the steps and walk slowly towards me.”

Vince edges back toward the door.

“Dad, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Come down the steps Lillian love.”

“Mr. White, I’m not going to hurt your daughter.”

“Are you him?”

“Who?”

“Are you the Deputy, this Vince Noir fella?”

Vince edges backwards some more.

“Why are you with my daughter?”

“Mr. White I can assure you that there’s nothing inappropriate going on here.”

“Daddy, I’m fine. Vince hasn’t done anything.”

“So you are him.”

The three of them pause a moment, each looking nervously to the other.

“If you’ve so much as touched a hair on my daughter’s head.”

“I promise you Mr. White I haven’t touched your daughter. I wouldn’t knowingly hurt anyone. I’m the Deputy Sheriff for goodness sake.”

“Then why’s the whole town looking for you then? I heard you murdered Lance Parrot.”

“Well I didn’t.”

“That’s not what folks are saying.”

“Well, those folk are wrong.”

“No smoke without fire.”

Vince sighs deeply. “Mr. White it’s a long story. I’m happy to tell you if you want to come inside.”

Mr. White takes a step forward. “Nah, you’re alright thanks. Think I’d rather you tell it to Mayor Bainbridge instead.”

“What?”

“Oi! You lot! Over here! I’ve only bloody found him.”

Vince looks on in horror as a group of three men rush around the corner. One he recognises as Joey the Moose, the original owner of the knife. The other two aren’t familiar to him though, and there’s nothing about their appearance that would make Vince want to change that fact.

“Shit, the Piper Twins!”

Vince looks to Lillian and sees terror in her features as she identifies the two men. He starts to feel a similar terror move inside himself.

Lillian turns towards him. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright Lillian. I forgive you.”

“No, I’m not sorry for what I did you twerp. I’m sorry for you.”

“Me?”

“That’s The Piper Twins, Charlie and Eddie Piper.”

“And I take it that’s not good.”

“You’ll be lucky to make it to Bainbridge alive.”

“Oh right. Thanks for that.”

“I should go before, you know…”

“Yeah.”

“You should probably run.”

“Probably.”

“I mean definitely, you should definitely run.”

“I’ve nowhere to go.”

Lillian looks at him sadly. Tears well in her pale green eyes again. “Bye then.”

“Bye.”

Lillian rushes down the last two steps and into her father’s arms. Mr. White looks up at the Deputy and sneers before pushing his daughter slightly away from him and holding her face in his hands.

“Are you alright my precious?”

“Yes Father.”

“He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“No Father.”

“Well I want you to get home now you hear. Get straight home to your Mother and no dallying.”

“I will Father.”

With one final glance up at Vince Lillian runs away from the group and out of sight towards home.

Vince takes another step backwards towards the door.

“Don’t be thinking you can get away this time Deputy.”

“Look gentlemen, I don’t want any trouble.”

The Piper Twins look at each other. “You hear that brother?”

“He doesn’t want any trouble.”

“I can’t see how he’s gonna avoid that though.”

“Nope. I can’t see that at all. Trouble’s the one thing he’s certainly in for.”

“Please, listen to me.”

“Awhh, the pretty man wants us to listen to him.”

“But we ain’t gonna do that are we brother?”

“Nah, the only thing I wanna hear coming from his mouth is pleading for mercy while I grind his head into the dirt.”

“Well, you first then brother.”

“No, I insist, after you brother.”

“Oh for goodness sake you two.” Mr. White moves forward. “Joey, with me. Let’s just get this over with.”

As the two men dart towards the steps Vince flings himself into the jailhouse and slams the door behind him. He wrestles with the key in the lock as the pounding starts. The lock clicks.

Vince steps through the room, looking about him manically for anything that he can use. He picks up random objects; a mug, a cushion, a hat, before heading to Howard’s desk drawer. He rifles through it hoping to find a spare gun but there’s nothing in them apart from paper and ink. He scours the shelves and spots an empty liquor bottle. He grabs it by the neck and feels the weight of it in his hand.

The pounding on the door becomes rhythmic. Clearly each of the men outside are taking it in turns to shoulder charge the door. The mere thought of it sends a shooting pain through Vince’s damaged joint.

“Deputy open up. You’ve nowhere to go and we’ll get through it eventually.”

“I’d rather not if it’s all the same to you Mr. White.”

“You’re not making this any easier on yourself. Why don’t you just come on out and we can go and see Mayor Bainbridge like civilized men.”

“I don’t think I’m the one that needs civilizing here Mr. White. Those Piper chimps out there are the ones that could do with calming down don’t you think?”

“Is he calling us monkeys brother?”

“I believe he is.”

“Well I think he might live to regret that.”

Vince bends down next to the metal bathtub and tries to push it. It moves half an inch before stopping. He tries again, another half an inch. If he could just get it in front of the door it would be a bit of a barrier at least. He pushes one more time, grimacing through the pain of a thousand lightning bolts striking his shoulder muscle. It’s no good, he just can’t shift it.

Suddenly the pounding stops.

“Deputy Noir, are you still in there?

“Where else would I be Mr. White?”

“You know we could set fire to the place. We could smoke you out.”

“And risk me dying before taking me back to Bainbridge. I don’t think so.”

“You’re right of course. Fire is out of the question. What do you say to something a little simpler? Something like an axe?”

The manic laughter of The Piper Twins reverberates off of the jailhouse walls as the first swing of the axe connects with the door. There’s another ‘swoosh’ and the axe hits the same spot, the wood already starting to shred and send splinters to the ground.

Vince feels a panic rise within his throat. He looks down at the bottle in his hand knowing how useless it will be against four men. He considers breaking it so it’s at least sharp. More likely to just cut himself though doing that.

The axe connects again and makes a small hole. An eye appears at it and finds him.

“Deputy.”

“Mr. White.”

“Only a matter of time now Deputy.”

Vince tries to still his shaking hand around the bottle neck.

The eye disappears from the hole and is replaced by the glistening silver sharp wedge of the axe head. It lodges itself into the door and Vince can hear the curses as Mr. White tries to wrestle it free.

Taking the opportunity Vince darts into the cell area so he’s out of view. He still has the bottle in his hand, but searches around for anything else he can use. The hanging throws and drapes impede his movements and he angrily tugs at one of them pulling it to the floor. He jumps over to Monty’s chests and starts emptying them out. Item upon item litters the ground around him, yet still nothing he can use as a weapon.

At the front door there’s an almighty crunching sound as the axe is finally dislodged.

“Where did you go to Deputy? You know there’s really no point in hiding.”

Vince sits on top of a chest and takes a deep breath. Maybe he should give up. Mr. White’s right. There is no use in hiding. He stands and puts a tentative foot forward, undecided whether he should leave the cell or not. It’s then he looks up at the small window. Well it worked once before.

Vince drops the bottle, jumps up onto the bed and heaves himself up level with the window. Of course he didn’t have an injured shoulder when he did this earlier, and the pain coursing through it now is nearly enough to make him drop back down to the mattress. He doesn’t though, he manages to cling on and pull himself further through the gap.

The axe hits the door once, twice more. The noise of breaking, splintering wood spurs Vince on. He heaves himself forward again, getting himself nearly halfway through when his belt buckle catches on the ledge.

“Goddamn it.”

Behind him he the splintering noise has stopped. Vince can feel the eye looking into the room, seeking him out. He squirms, trying desperately to free his buckle. If only he could give himself a bit more leverage.

Vince’s ears pick out a soft jangling sound. It dawns on him slowly. The key! Mr. White must have gotten his arm through the door and is trying to turn the key.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Vince squirms harder, shuffling and twisting as best he can until all of a sudden the buckle gives. He pulls himself further through the window until he’s perfectly counterbalanced on the sill. He hears the click of the lock and the frightening sound of the door bursting open. He stretches upwards, trying to reach an overhanging beam so to pull himself the rest of the way out.

“Playing hide and seek are you Deputy? Well I’m coming if you’re ready or not.”

Vince stretches again, but just as his fingertips touch the wood he feels two arms grab a hold of his legs.

“Going somewhere Deputy?”

Vince kicks and struggles and somehow manages to connect his boot with what he assumes is Mr. White’s nose. He assumes because of the whelp that comes out of Mr. White and because his legs are suddenly free.

With all the strength and energy he can muster Vince once again reaches for the beam. Those ferocious lightning bolts strike his shoulder muscle over and over, but through gritted teeth he manages to grab onto the joist and yank himself up and out.

As he drops to the ground Mr. White’s head appears at the window, blood streaming out of both nostrils. He wipes the back of his hand across his upper lip, smearing scarlet and sweat across his face and fingers.

“You get that one for free Deputy.”

“I didn’t mean it Mr. White.” Vince struggles to his feet, clutching his shoulder, and breathing heavily from the exertion.

“I know you didn’t mean it, which is why, as I said, you get that one for free. These two however have other ideas I think.”

Mr. White nods and points behind Vince, a wicked smile creeping across his face. Vince turns just in time to see a Piper Twin launch a fist in his direction. He ducks and parries and throws his back up against the wall of the jailhouse.

“Ooh, he’s quick this one brother.”

“He certainly is.”

Vince scours the ground and spots a few stones. He reaches down quickly to grab them and chucks them at the slightly smaller attacker.

This twin throws his hands up to his face but then brings them down laughing, a little blood speckling his forehead but nothing more.

“The Deputy wants to play hard.”

“But we can play harder can’t we brother.”

Above his head Vince hears Mr. White chuckle.

Vince has never considered himself a violent man. He is a lover not a fighter, preferring to use words not fists, charm not brawn, wit and not weapons.

But Vince isn’t a coward.

As he re-backs up against the wall of the jailhouse, The Piper Twins circling in front of him, he settles on the only option he can see. He has to try and fight his way out, or at least keep them at bay until Howard comes back.

Vince turns side-on to his opponents and raises his fists in front of him, keeping his fingers loose and ready to grab. He’s no idea if these brothers have any weapons, but he doesn’t doubt for one second that they’ll fight dirty. All he can do is try to preempt them and use his speed.

“Would you look at this brother?”

“We’d better watch out.”

Above him Mr. White sniggers again. “Well I’ll say this for you Deputy, you’re a brave man going up against these two.”

“And you’re going to stay up there and watch are you Mr. White?”

“Some people pay good money to see bouts like these, although realistically I’m not sure it’s going to last all that long. I’m sorry to say it but my money’s on the twins.”

“What about supporting the underdog?”

“Yeah, you’re right, a part of me is rooting for you. I tell you what, as a matter of good faith and gentlemanly conduct I’ll give you a piece of advice Deputy.”

“What’s that?”

“They fight as one.”

As the last word leaves Mr. White’s mouth the twins rush forward, each with fists raised and snarls upon their lips. Vince instinctively ducks and pushes himself off the wall, successfully slipping in-between and past the two men. He spins on his heels in readiness for another onslaught.

The twins rush Vince again. Once more he manages to swerve out of their way, but this time he half loses his footing so rather than spinning out of the attack he stumbles. Consequently he’s not ready for the third assault.

A flying fist catches Vince on the chin. It doesn’t connect properly, and doesn’t do much damage, but it’s enough to keep him off balance.

He cannot avoid the blow to his stomach.

Vince doubles-over, the wind temporarily knocked out of him. He looks up in time to see the elbow before it meets with the side of his face. He drops to one knee, sparks flying through his temple. He shakes his head trying to clear his vision.

“I think we should let him up.”

“But we can finish him off brother?”

“No way, not yet. I want some sport!”

The twins take a few steps back and begin to walk around their prey in opposite directions to each other. Vince tries to blink away the fogginess. He tracks the twins as they circle him feeling much like a fallen antelope being surrounded by a pack of hyenas.

Vince sees the smaller twin momentarily look aside and takes his chance. He pushes up from the ground and shoulder charges directly into the man’s gut. The twin grunts aloud and topples backwards with Vince on top of him. The Deputy manages to get in one, two, three punches before the other twin grabs him from behind and throws him to the side. Vince rolls away and springs back to his feet.

The larger twin pulls the other up off the ground. “You alright brother?”

“Oh god yes, I feel great!”

Vince swallows dryly as he sees the smaller twin’s eyes sparkle with glee. He knows only a massive stroke of luck can help him now. He doesn’t stand a chance. Aside from the fact that these two are enjoying themselves far too much he has a dodgy shoulder and the noise of a thousand horses stampeding through his brain. No, he doesn’t have a hope in hell.

Yet still the Deputy stands tall and raises his fists.

The first punch fills his mouth with blood. The second splits his eyebrow. Vince grabs a shirt front, an ear, some hair. Limbs are everywhere, fists pummeling his stomach, pounding against his ribs again and again and again. He starts to topple but he’s pulled up straight and his arms yanked behind his back. He yells out in agony as his left shoulder is wrenched and contorted. The pounding starts again in near perfect symmetry, left stomach, right stomach, left rib, right rib, a quick slap to the face to keep him conscious. Vince’s legs buckle. He gulps, chokes, coughs. Heat sears through his rib cage and lungs. He drops knees first to the ground, falls forward onto hands, and looks upon his own grazed palms, his own shredded knuckles. Blood runs into his eye. He splutters, spits, tries to roll over and stand but is kicked in the kidneys, then in the ribs. A boot to his spine flattens him out. He can hear high pitched manic laughter but nothing else. His ears are ringing. His eyes close themselves. He tries to move but is flipped instead onto his back. There’s something heavy on his chest, someone. He gasps, breath ragged and shallow. Another slap to the face then a hand at his throat. He gargles and paws uselessly at the fingers digging themselves into his neck. Sudden release. He guzzles down air, blood, dirt. The weight disappears. Hands clutch his ankles, pulling him, dragging him, his arms flail behind him as he tries to grab onto anything. Faster, faster, the ground a vicious rasp clawing and tearing at his skin. He hollers and twists. His legs are unceremoniously dropped. He rolls back to his stomach and crawls away, tucking himself into a ball as he reaches the side of the jailhouse, his arms protecting his head as a new volley of punches land. He falls sideways so the twins plant more kicks to his shoulders, his shins, to his buttocks and his back. The last he remembers is one to his head. Silently pleading for Howard’s help Vince finally blacks out.

The first thing Howard notices is the door. He stops ten paces from the veranda steps. Many emotions free-wheel across his face.

“Looks like you’ve been robbed Sheriff.”

Howard slowly turns to the idiot of a man on his right, his mouth slightly agape. He feels the burning acidity of fear rise in his throat.

“They didn’t mess around did they? Must have wanted to get in really badly. I mean you’ve hardly any door left there have you?”

Howard looks back again at the jailhouse and slowly draws his gun from his holster. He grabs a handful of Bobby Fossil’s shirt.

“Now listen to me Fossil, we’re going to go in nice and easy you hear. No funny business.”

“You serious?”

“Yes I’m serious now move.”

“No way, I’m not going first. What if they’re still in there?”

“Well you’d just better hope they’re not.”

Howard pushes Bobby ahead of him and towards the steps. They both climb them together, Howard the whole time with his gun in one hand and the other locked around Bobby’s arm. As they reach the window Howard risks taking a look in but can make out nothing in the dark. They reach the door. Well it was a door. Most of it now is pieces of wood on the floor. Again pushing Bobby ahead, the men enter.

“Vince.”

No answer. Howard picks up a still burning oil lamp and holds it up in front of him. “Vince!”

“That’s the Deputy’s name isn’t it? Quite a nice chap your Deputy.”

Howard ignores him, but he can’t ignore the panic that’s making the pulse in his neck throb and his heart race. “Vince, please.”

“I don’t think he’s here Sheriff.”

Howard shoves Bobby forward and points to the empty jail cell. “Get in there.”

“What?”

“I said get in there.”

“But surely you’re not still worried about little old me are you?”

“Fossil I’m giving you one warning. Move!”

“Okay, okay. Be gentle with me though won’t ya?”

Bobby Fossil steps inside the cell and Howard closes the door on him. He locks it and pockets the key.

“Vince, for Christ’s sake answer me.”

“He’s clearly not…”

“Shut the fuck up Fossil!”

“Okay, sorry.” Bobby backs down and sits on the edge of the cot bed.

Howard, gun still in hand, makes his way into the other cell area. He absorbs the bedroom scene in one quick sweep. Ripped drapes, clothes and trinkets all over the floor. A discarded empty liquor bottle. He moves further into the room, spies the Deputy’s badge lying where Vince left it less than an hour ago. He picks it up and holds it tight in his hands as if willing it to bring Vince to him. It’s then that he spots the blood splatter on the wall below the window. He moves closer. No, not just the wall, there’s droplets all over Vince’s beautiful fur throw. He climbs up onto the bed and touches one of the spots. Still tacky. He wipes the blood from his finger and straightens to look out of the window.

He turns pale.

Howard jumps off the bed and bolts out of the room. Fossil’s yelling after him but he can’t hear what he’s saying. He doesn’t care. He flies out of the front door and leaps over the veranda rail, swoops around the side of the jailhouse and skids to a stop out the back.

He’s never learnt to track properly, but even with only the light of the moon and his oil lamp it’s all too clear to him what’s happened here. He can make out at least three sets of footprints, one of which he just knows belongs to his Deputy. It’s the other marks and furrows that scare him the most, not to mention the sight of dark scarlet splashes in every direction. Howard drops to one knee. His breath catches as he spots the indentation of a bloody hand-print in the soft dirt.

“Oh God Vince, where the hell are you?”

He spins to look around him. It’s obvious that a fight has taken place here and he can see more footprints on the outskirts. He scoots over to study these more closely. One set is far bigger than the rest. There’s another set just to the left of them.

“Shit, shit, shit. That makes at least four. SHIT!”

Howard stands too quickly and the blood rushes to his head making him feel dizzy. He puts his hand against the jailhouse wall to steady himself. He feels sick. He wants to vomit. He wants to scream. Why the fuck did he leave him? How goddamn stupid could he be? Of course they’d come back to the jail to look for him. Of course they would. He feels tears of anguish and frustration start to well in his eyes. He wipes them away with the back of his hand, and sucks in a big gulp of air.

“Shit Vince, shit!”

He rubs his eyes again and turns away from the sight before him. He has to find Vince. Has to! God knows what they’re doing to him already, what they might have already done.

“Arghhhhhhhhh!” Howard cannot hold down the yell that spews out of him like the hunting call of a wild warrior. He spins on the spot not knowing which direction to take. Thoughts and ideas bounce around his brain at a hundred miles per hour. Technicolour nightmarish images of the man he loves lying bloodied, beaten, bound and gagged, dead in a ditch, gunned down, begging for mercy, throat cut. “Oh god no, no! Not that last image please!” Somewhere in his brain other words to cling on to, ‘take your gun’, ‘go to The Bullet’, ‘find Monty’, ‘find Bainbridge’, ‘find Vince’, ‘find Vince’, ‘FIND VINCE!”

“Sheriff Moon.”

Howard wheels around at the sound of his name. “Vince!”

“No Sheriff it’s me, Lillian White.”

“Lillian, what are you doing here?”

“It’s Deputy Noir, Sir.”

“Yes, yes, do you know where he is?”

“I think so Sir. Down by the railroad if I’m not mistaken.”

“Really?”

“I think so Sir, yes.”

“Oh thank you Lillian, thank you.” Howard drops the lamp, re-holsters his pistol and starts to run but Lillian calls out to him.

“Sheriff Moon!”

Howard slows and turns back, “Yes Lillian?”

“I heard my Father say something about a lynching.”

Howard can’t remember the last time he’d ran this fast. He reckons it may have been four years ago when he’d thought he’d seen a bobcat under his house. This time is different though. This time he is running towards the danger not away from it.

He’s already halfway along the main street before his brain switches back on and starts trying to give him advice. Well not advice as such. It’s more a mantra that goes something like ‘save Vince and try not to kill anyone’, ‘save Vince and try not to kill anyone’, ‘save Vince and try not to kill anyone’.

Howard slows as he reaches the first of two possible routes down to the railroad. He refuses it, not particularly wanting to negotiate the pigsties and maze of paths in the dark. He punts instead for the more direct route which will take him alongside the saloon and straight down the hill. He picks his speed back up.

The Salty Bullet is eerily quiet. The Sheriff doesn’t remember ever seeing it so empty. As he passes he notices a couple of women leaning out of a top window.

“You’d better hurry Sheriff.”

“Think they’ve probably started without you.”

Howard tries to ignore their laughter and instead forces his legs to move even quicker. He rounds the side of the building, nearly slipping as his boots hit loose grit rather than compacted dirt. He doesn’t slow down though. If anything he just pounds the ground harder. He hurdles a broken stool and narrowly avoids getting tangled in a mass of tumble weed before he breaks free from the cover of the building. Reaching the top of the main embankment he slides to a stop.

Below him is a rather large and very noisy gathering of people. Most are holding aloft torches and lamps, but he can barely make out their faces. They’re just a mass of bodies, squirming below him like mice in a bucket. Howard scans the crowd and settles his gaze towards the centre. The crowd is thinner here as if they’re all holding themselves back from something fascinating yet horrific. And right in the centre there’s even fewer. Three or four people maybe. Identifying them is impossible. Howard squints and tries to focus but it’s difficult as the shadows keep shifting and hazing his vision. There’s no mistaking the booming voice that comes out of one of them though. Dixon Bainbridge!

Howard draws his gun and fires twice into the air.

The effect is immediate. There’s a couple of squeals of fright before the whole crowd goes silent and shifts to face him. He thinks about firing once more for good measure, but Bainbridge speaks first.

“Sheriff Moon!”

“Where is he Bainbridge?”

“What, not even time for pleasantries? Manners are free you know.”

“Cut the crap, where is he?”

“I take it you mean your precious Deputy. Why, he’s here.”

Bainbridge steps backwards and does a theatrical sweep of his arm towards the small cluster of figures behind him. Howard squints again trying to fathom the detail. The figures separate slightly and all of a sudden the detail becomes startlingly clear. He can’t help his utterance.

“Vince!”

Bainbridge points his cane at the shape lying motionless on the ground. “Punishment must be served Sheriff. Justice must always be swift.”

Howard’s still staring at the body.

“It’s a dirty job, a harrowing job, but as Mayor it’s a job I’m willing to accept.”

Howard feels the nausea return, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the inert form. He feels himself wobble slightly.

“Howard. Howard!”

There’s a blur in front of him, a face cloudy and vague only inches from his own. He tries to peer around it, tries to look again at the figure of his lifeless lover.

“Howard. He’s not dead Howard. Howard!”

“Chalky?”

“Yes Howard. For Christ sake man snap out of it. He’s not dead.”

“What?”

“He’s not dead.”

Howard puts his hand on his friend’s shoulder and gives it an affectionate squeeze. He takes a breath. “He’s not dead?”

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. He’s been badly beaten up and he’s pretty out of it, but he’s not dead.”

“Oh thank god.”

“You two having a private conversation up there or can anyone join in?”

The crowd parts slightly as Bainbridge moves towards the bottom of the embankment. “Haven’t you got a saloon to run McGrue?”

“Yes Mayor but everyone’s here.”

“Well everyone won’t be here when we’ve finished will they? Everyone will be wanting a drink I should reckon. How about you get yourself back to that bar and start fixing up a round on me?”

A small cheer goes up amongst the gatherers.

Howard steps forward right to the very edge of the hillock. “Nobody is finishing anything here Bainbridge. Everyone’s going to make their way back to their homes and their families, and I’m going to take my Deputy back to the jailhouse.”

The Mayor shakes his head multiple times. “No, no, no Sheriff Moon. These people want to see a hanging so a hanging’s what they’ll get.”

Bainbridge clicks his fingers and the shadowy figures standing near to Vince start darting about the place. Howard finally recognises them as The Piper Twins. If they had anything to do with the fight that occurred out the back of the jailhouse no wonder Vince is in such a bad way.

He looks on as Charlie Piper grabs a length of rope and tosses it over the horizontal beam of the railroad milepost. Eddie runs forward and grabs the already looped and knotted end that’s now swinging midair. He pulls the loop downwards, strides purposefully across to the still inanimate body of Vince and grabs a fistful of the Deputy’s hair. Yanking his head upwards he slips the noose around Vince’s neck, and then lets his head drop back to the ground. Bainbridge moves to stand next to Vince too.

“Murder must be punished Deputy.”

Howard finally remembers he has legs and charges down the embankment towards the clearing, the crowd quickly creating a path for his flying form.

He runs straight into the centre of the space, just metres away from Vince, and trains his gun on the Mayor. Memories of doing this before, of Tommy, and of that fateful night start flooding into his brain but he manages to sweep them aside. He can’t allow that now. Not now! One glance at Vince is enough to keep him strong.

He cocks his gun. “Step away from him all of you.”

“What, you gonna shoot me now Sheriff? In front of all these people? Are you going to kill me in cold blood for doing what’s right?”

Murmurs start going up in the crowd. Howard decides to change tack. He keeps his gun trained on the Mayor though.

“Everybody listen and listen well. I know most of you have not yet met Deputy Noir, but he is not your murderer. He did not kill Lance Parrot! If you allow him to hang tonight then you are hanging an innocent man.”

“Listen to what he’s saying people.” From out of the crowd steps Montgomery Flange. He stands at Howard’s side. “The Sheriff is right. Vince didn’t kill Parrot. You’ve no evidence to say he did. You’re just allowing yourselves to believe the lie because you want answers.” Monty points at Vince. “This is not your answer!”

A voice yells out, “So why did he run away?”

“Wouldn’t you if you were being accused of something as serious as murder?”

Another voice, “He’s guilty, he’s got to be guilty!”

“He’s as innocent as a newborn lamb I tell you.”

As the murmuring starts up again Howard raises his hand to shush them. “As The Sheriff of this town I’m telling you all, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Deputy is innocent.”

Howard pauses to allow his words to sink in before he continues. “But even if he isn’t…” he shouts louder, “…even if he isn’t, this hanging is illegal. This is not justice. There’s been no trial, no evidence and no motive presented. If you allow this to happen then it is you, all of you, which are committing the heinous crime of murder!”

The crowd goes deathly quiet. Not just silent, but totally still. No-one so much as shuffles a foot. Howard keeps staring down the barrel of his gun directly into Bainbridge’s eyes. The Mayor holds the stare.

A soft groan.

It barely registers it’s so soft. In fact it’s Monty who hears it first. He lays a hand on Howard’s arm and nods in Vince’s direction.

“Howard, I think he’s coming around.”

Vince groans again.

Howard waggles his gun at The Mayor. “Move away from him Bainbridge.”

“I don’t think so Moon. This isn’t over, not by a long shot.”

“It’s over, now move away!”

Behind Bainbridge Eddie Piper has joined his brother at the base of the milepost. They both have a piece of the rope in their hands.

Howard clenches his jaw. He can feel the hot red flames of anger licking around his head. He glances at Vince. The Deputy is moving ever so slightly. His fingers twitch, a spasm jerks his shoulder and arm. Another moan.

The crowd has all but disappeared from Howard’s awareness so quiet are they now. He pays them no heed. His full focus is on Vince and on Bainbridge and on the rope that’s held taut between The Piper Twins’ fingers.

Howard shakes his gun once more. Through gritted teeth and with a voice struggling to remain calm he repeats his instruction, “Move away from him Bainbridge now!”

Bainbridge doesn’t answer. Instead he puts up one hand and points to the sky. The Piper Twins pull on the rope.

Vince is wrenched upward by his neck, his head about a foot from the floor. His hands instinctively fly to the noose as he makes a noise somewhere between a cough and a gargle. Howard steps forward, his face a depiction of pure rage.

“For fucks sake Bainbridge he’s barely conscious.”

“Oh he’s conscious enough. Shall we see?” Bainbridge lifts his finger again, and again the twins yank the rope. This time though they pull harder and Vince is dragged to his feet. They pull more and he’s on tiptoes. Beneath the dark sweaty mass of his fringe his eyes fly open, his mouth gapes, and his fingers claw at the rope around his neck as he dances around on the balls of his feet.

“I SAID ENOUGH BAINBRIDGE!”

Howard shoots once, severing the rope and dropping Vince to the floor. Bainbridge dives to the side the moment he sees Howard squeeze the trigger, thinking in that second that the bullet is meant for him. The twins dive too, both on top of Bainbridge, covering their boss with their bodies to protect him from further gunfire. At any other time this would look comical, but with Vince rolling around on the floor, desperately grasping at the noose still tight around his neck, it is anything but.

Howard and Monty race forward and hold Vince still to remove the rope. As the life-giving air reflates his lungs and the tinge of blue leaves his lips Howard frantically brushes Vince’s hair from his face.

“Vince, you’re alright. I got you Vince, I got you. You’re gonna be alright.”

Doctor Bamshoot rushes from the crowd and to Howard’s side. “Here, let me see. Deputy can you hear me? Can you breathe deeply for me? Good, that’s it. Nice deep breaths. There you go.”

Howard stands and retrains his gun on Bainbridge who’s returned to his feet having managed to push the twins aside. The Mayor dusts himself down with what remaining dignity he can muster. He’s more aware than ever of the hundreds of eyes staring at him.

“Nice shooting Sheriff. I had no idea you still had the skill.”

“I should arrest you for this.”

“Arrest me, on what grounds? Holding a suspect captive and trying to make him talk?”

“That’s not what happened here. Everybody saw what you did.” Howard turns to the crowd. “You did, you all saw this. You’re all witnesses. Mayor Bainbridge was going to kill this man after I declared it illegal. He doesn’t live by the law, he uses it, manipulates it, twists it and shapes it to be whatever he wants it to be. Well not anymore! I’m the Sheriff of Moonstone and I am the only law here you understand. I am, not him, me!”

“It doesn’t matter Moon, you still can’t hold me. You might be the law but I know the law and the law says any citizen has the right to hold prisoner any man that he deems to have committed a felony. Now I may have roughed him up a little, and I may have threatened his life, but at the end of the day I’m just as traumatised by Lance Parrot’s death as these people are. I’m just doing what I can to find the murderer.”

Doctor Bamshoot gets up from Vince’s side and turns to Howard.

“We need to get Deputy Noir to a bed Sheriff. He needs medical attention and rest.”

Howard nods. “Yeah okay. The jailhouse though not your place.”

“Are you sure? Mines nearer.”

“No, I want him at mine. And anyway I need to get back to the jail for other reasons.”

“Why?”

Howard takes a step towards Dixon Bainbridge and looks him square in the eyes. “Because I have one Bobby Fossil in my cell under arrest, and it’s only a matter of time before he starts talking.”

The Sheriff feels an internal joy as he sees a wave of fear pass across Bainbridge’s features.

Howard turns back to Vince, kneeling beside him and putting an arm gently around the smaller man’s shoulders. He notes how much Vince is shivering despite the mild weather. Shock he supposes. He wipes Vince’s fringe to the side again, and finally gets the younger man to look at him. He can hardly believe it when Vince offers him a small smile.

“Hi there little man.”

Vince croaks a tiny “hi” in response.

“You’re going to be alright Vince. It’s over now. We’re taking you back to the jailhouse.”

Vince nods.

“Can you stand?”

Vince doesn’t talk. Instead he grabs a hand of Howard’s and a hand of Monty’s and pulls himself onto his haunches. Monty wraps Vince’s arm around his shoulders and his own around Vince’s waist as support. He slowly helps the Deputy to his feet. Howard stands in front of Vince and cups the young man’s face to study him more closely. There’s a deep cut above his eyebrow, and the now dried blood that must have spilled from it has left a dark red trail down his cheek. Howard can also see bruising on his chin and jaw, but miraculously Vince’s features are fairly unscathed. His eyes though say otherwise. Howard looks deeply into them and tries to give Vince a reassuring smile. He affectionately runs his thumb across Vince’s cheek bone.

“I’m here for you Vince. Whatever you need.”

Vince tries to speak but suddenly the colour drains from his face and his eyes roll to their whites. He collapses forward onto Howard’s chest and it’s only because Monty’s still holding him that he doesn’t spill to the ground like a rag doll.

Howard quickly wraps one arm around Vince’s back and sweeps the Deputy’s legs up so he’s holding him like a sleeping child. He pulls Vince as close as he can against his breast, looks around at the stunned faces watching, and without saying another word silently carries Vince away from them all.

He makes it all the way up to in front of the dressmakers before the dead weight of Vince finally becomes too heavy for him. He drops to one knee in the street, muscles burning and legs weak, but he doesn’t let go. Instead he allows himself to look down at the unconscious man in his arms. His heart swells at the sight.

Vince’s face, though bloodied and pale and bruised, is utterly beautiful to him. He can’t think of another way to phrase it in his mind. He puts the back of his fingers to Vince’s cheek and lovingly runs them upwards and around his brow, pausing to yet again sweep aside the fringe before resting his palm on the other side of the Deputy’s jaw. He closes his eyes and his chest heaves as it battles to swallow down all the emotion that’s willfully trying to ascend his throat. He pulls Vince closer to him and rocks him ever so gently.

“C’mon Vince, wake up now please.”

Howard jumps as he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks up into the kindly features of Monty. “Would you like us to carry him for you Howard?”

Howard frowns then takes a look back over his shoulder. Behind him is a group of about a dozen folk. Eleanor and Lucien, Sally Glister, Jean Claude and Jack Tucker, and Doctor Bamshoot. Surprisingly there’s also a few Salty Bullet regulars including Lillian’s Father Ralfe White.

He looks back to his friend. “No, you’re alright Monty, I’ve got this.”

“The little fella didn’t stand a chance you know, but I heard he put up a fight to try and save himself. You’d have been proud of him.”

“I am proud, Monty thank you.” Howard flicks his head towards the group. “You can send everyone home now though. They don’t need to put themselves in any further danger by trailing after me.”

“I think they want to help Howard. I think they want to stick around tonight and make sure nothing else happens to you both.”

Howard looks at the group again.

“And what about Mr. White and co?”

“Not sure about all of them, but it was Mr. White who came back from yours with The Piper Twins once they’d found Vince.”

Howard nods.

“Okay Monty, but just you and the Doctor in the jailhouse alright, I don’t want Vince to go through any more stress. Plus I’ve got Bobby Fossil in there.”

“Yeah, I heard you say that to Bainbridge. What’s that about?”

Howard leans into Monty and says quietly, “He knows who killed Parrot.”

Monty’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Wow! Well leave it to me to sort this lot out. You get yourself inside and see to young Vince here. I’ll be there in a minute or two.”

“Thanks for everything Monty.”

Howard pulls himself back to his feet and readjusts his grip around Vince, careful not to jolt him too much.

Vince suddenly opens his eyes. “Howard?”

“Vince!”

Howard can’t help but give the Deputy a little squeeze.

“Hey not so tight.” Vince’s voice sounds tiny and weak.

“Sorry Vince, but oh my god. Are you alright? How are you feeling?”

“It hurts.”

“I know little man, I know. We’re almost home now. I’ll get you into bed yeah.”

“I’m not up for that yet Howard.”

“What?”

“You know, ‘that’!” Vince gives a cheeky grin before a coughing fit racks his body.

“Steady Vince.”

Howard stops walking and holds the Deputy closer to him until the fit subsides. When Vince talks again it’s even croakier than before, more like a hoarse whisper.

“Are you carrying me Howard?”

Howard starts walking again. The jailhouse is ahead and even in its sorry looking state with the door destroyed Howard takes comfort in seeing it. “Yeah, and you’re heavier than you look you know.”

Vince puts his arm around Howard’s neck and gives his nape an affectionate rub. “You saved me.”

Howard makes a little embarrassed grunting noise in the back of his throat.

“You saved me like a damsel in distress and now you’re carrying me across your threshold like we’re newly wedded.”

Howard cannot help but laugh out loud as he climbs the steps to his front veranda. “How can you joke at a time like this?”

“Because you’re my hero Sheriff, and I think I love you.”

Howard beams from ear to ear as he steps across the splintered remains of his threshold. “And I think I love you too Vince.”

Vince smiles widely in reply before closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift back into oblivion.

---

[nextpage title=”Wounds”]

Wounds

Bobby Fossil is standing at his cell door grasping onto the bars as Howard walks in carrying Vince. He starts to yell at the Sheriff for leaving him locked up until a stern look from the lawman silences him.

Howard carries Vince over to the couch and lays him down. He knows a bed would be best, but with the mess that’s in the bedroom area he judges the sofa to be the only option. It also means he can question Fossil later without disturbing Vince. He doesn’t want to worry the Deputy any further with talk of murder and weapons, at least not tonight.

He props Vince’s head up on a cushion and arranges his hair so it’s away from his face. He then makes himself busy by grabbing extra oil lamps from around the jailhouse. He’s just lighting the last one as Doctor Bamshoot walks through the door accompanied by Monty.

Fossil, who’s still standing at his cell door, starts to whine again until he realises who the visitors are. On recognising the two men he quickly puts his head down and retreats to the safety of his cot bed.

The Doctor and Monty cross to Howard’s side. “How’s he looking Sheriff?”

“I don’t know Doctor. He did come around for a moment, but all he said was that everything hurt.”

Well that wasn’t all Vince had said, but he wasn’t going to share that with the town physician now was he?

“Hmm? He probably took a few hits to his head. Plus his air supply was cut off for a while from the noose. He’s going to have a bit of trouble speaking for the next couple of days.”

“His voice did sound really croaky, and he had a coughing fit.”

“Well it’s not surprising really. Look at that rope mark around his neck!” The Doctor pulls aside Vince’s shirt collar to better show Howard and Monty the rope burns. Both men wince.

“He dislocated his arm earlier today too. I put it back into place myself but you should probably check it.”

“My god he’s in the wars isn’t he. Well I think we should definitely take a look at the rest of him. Gentlemen, would you help me to remove some of his clothes. As carefully as possible though. We don’t know if he’s broken anything yet.”

Howard gives himself the task of loosening Vince’s trousers. Monty slips off Vince’s boots and the Doctor undoes his shirt. Working together they manage to coax and peel Vince’s clothes off of him without too much trouble. Before they resettle the Deputy though Monty winces again.

“Look at this Doctor.”

Vince’s back is covered in scratches, and there’s at least two of significant depths. They’d certainly sting, and they looked awful, but the Doctor assures them that nothing is life threatening. Instead he insists they lay Vince back down so he can check the front of him.

The Doctor begins his routine examination of Vince’s body for injury. Howard watches fascinated as he runs his fingers across the bright red areas of Vince’s torso and stomach, applying pressure to various spots and apparently examining the differences in bruise colour. He watches him take Vince’s pulse and peer into his mouth. He checks through Vince’s hair, presumably looking for cuts or bumps, and then pats all the way down his arms and legs. Finally he lifts Vince’s eyelids and scrutinizes his eyes before grabbing the blanket from the arm of the sofa and laying it across the Deputy’s lower body.

The Doctor stands to address the patiently waiting Howard and Monty.

“Well I’d say he’s been terrifically lucky. There doesn’t appear to be any broken bones, and from what I can tell most of the bruising is superficial. He doesn’t have a head wound, but I do think he’s received a few punches to it. That’s not to say he won’t be in a fair amount of pain when he wakes up. The bruising is spread across multiple areas of his body.”

“And his shoulder?”

“His shoulder looks fine. I think you did a good job there.”

“So why’s he unconscious?”

“Our bodies find amazing ways to deal with trauma Sheriff. I think young Mr. Noir here probably needs to shut down for a while. He’s not so much unconscious as in a type of deep sleep. It’s quite common in cases like these.”

“He’ll wake up soon then?”

“Within the hour I’d imagine.”

“And you’re sure nothing’s seriously injured?”

“Well as sure as I can be. I’ll know more when he’s awake. He’ll be able to tell me which parts of him are the tenderest. For now though I’ll say it’s safe for us to clean the wounds on his back and face without the risk of causing him further damage. I’ll need some warm water and some cloth and perhaps a little more light. Whilst you sort that out I’m just going to pop home to get some things.”

“Right you are Doctor.”

As soon as Doctor Bamshoot leaves the jailhouse Howard perches on the edge of the couch and grabs Vince’s hand. He brings it up to his face and kisses it tenderly. Monty moves alongside him and places a hand on the Sheriff’s back.

“That’s good news Howard. Really good news.”

“The best. I honestly don’t know what I’d have done if the Doctor had said otherwise.”

Monty pats his friend’s shoulder. “Right then you stay here in case he wakes up. I’m going to go and speak to the folks outside. We’ll get this bath tub shifted, and sort out some hot water and extra light. I’m sure Sally will have some scraps of cloth we can use for dressings, and I’ll get one of the chaps to go see if Corky can do something about your front door. I’m sure he’s finished with Lance’s coffin by now.”

At the mention of Lance Parrot Howard’s thoughts turn back to the bank manager in his lock up. He moves closer to Monty and lowers his voice to a whisper.

“I’m going to have to question Fossil sooner rather than later too Monty. Are you able to stay the night so I can get to that? I don’t want Vince to have a minute alone once the Doctor has finished with him.”

“I wasn’t planning to go anywhere Howard, and you know discretion is my middle name. Besides it’s not like I don’t have a few clothes over here.”

“That’s true, although I’d say most of them are scattered all over the floor right now.”

“Did Vince ever ask why they are over here?”

“Sort of, but no, not really. Vince seems to take things as he finds them. I’ve a feeling that as a lawman most of his results will come from pure luck rather than deep investigative work.”

Monty chuckles lightly at that. “Well there’s still a fair amount of investigative work for you to be doing right now Howard. I’m sure Vince will be keen to learn what he can from you when he’s feeling better.”

“I hope so.”

Howard kisses Vince’s hand again before tucking it away under the blanket. He stands and stares adoringly at the peaceful face of the younger man. It seems like weeks since he’d done this for the first time, watching Vince in slumber as the light played with his features. He could hardly believe that it was only yesterday morning.

Monty makes a noise behind him and Howard pulls himself out of his thoughts. The old actor looks affectionately at his friend. “Be careful Howard. There are eyes everywhere you know.”

He nods towards Bobby Fossil who is still sitting quietly on his cot bed.

“I know Monty. It’s just, well I…”

“You don’t have to say it, I can see it in your eyes. Be wary though yeah.”

“Thanks, I will.”

“Good. I’ll go and get things moving then. You put some water on the heat and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Monty walks out of the door, but then pops his head back around the door-frame. “Oh and Howard.”

“Yeah?”

“Try to stop looking so worried. Vince is going to be alright.”

“I know, but I feel I’m responsible for all of this.”

“Well yes, in part and in a very roundabout way you are, but that’s no excuse for you getting all morose about it. Vince will need you stronger than ever when he wakes up. His physical scars may heal but you’ve no idea what this might have done to his mind. He almost died tonight, and in a really horrific way. He’s going to need you to be fully functioning if he’s to cope with all this.”

“I hear what you’re saying, honestly I do. I’ll be alright, and I won’t let him down. It will really help if I can get to the bottom of this crime though, and get Dixon Bainbridge out of Moonstone once and for all.”

“You will Howard. I have faith in you. One way or another I know you’ll get your man.”

He winks at Howard and leaves. The Sheriff looks bemused for a second before blushing at the double-meaning in Monty’s words.

Within fifteen minutes the jailhouse has become a hive of activity. Monty certainly knows how to get people to respond. Years of being an actor meant he is a man to be listened to. As Howard had watched him delegate and motivate he couldn’t help but feel a little sad that Monty never got the chance to direct a play. He hoped that one day he could give his friend back the Moonstone he so dearly loved, and maybe attract some new wannabe actors and stagehands into the town.

At the thought of stagehands, and in particular set designing, Howard’s mind jumps back to Vince. He looks over at the young man still inert on the sofa. Doctor Bamshoot and Sally are busying themselves with the Deputy’s cuts by cleaning and dressing the worst. Howard’s chest tightens at the sight and he has to turn away. Instead he settles his gaze on his bedroom area where Eleanor and Monty are currently picking up the clothes and cleaning the blood from the wall. He wanders across to them, catching them mid conversation.

“…beautiful stitching. You had this made specially did you?”

“No, it was given to me by a very old friend of mine. Somebody long deceased now. I’d forgotten I had it actually.”

“Well you’re very kind to lend the Deputy your clothes like this. I would check to see if Lucien’s anything spare, but somehow I don’t think his wardrobe would suit the Deputy’s stylish sensibilities.”

Both stop chatting as they notice Howard standing in the doorway.

“How is he? Woken up yet?”

Howard shakes his head. “No Mrs. Hopkins. He’s really scaring me now if I have to be honest.”

“But he’s in the best hands. You mustn’t worry yourself so. Deputy Noir strikes me as a very life-embracing young man. He’ll not let go of his easily.”

Howard smiles. “Yes, he is that Mrs. Hopkins, and I know Doctor Bamshoot is doing everything right. I feel a bit useless I guess.”

Eleanor chucks a shirt at him. “Well make yourself un-useless then and fold this.”

The trio are quiet for a spell as they continue putting things away. Howard rehangs the drapes between his and Vince’s cot beds to keep up the impression of separation, an action not missed by Monty who nods in understanding. Not that Howard has had the opportunity to be intimate with Vince in bed yet aside from that first time. He feels a twinge in his groin at the idea of being able to hold Vince close to him for a whole night, to kiss his mouth and to feel the weight of him upon his chest. He catches Monty looking at him and rapidly pushes away the thought. Not really the time and place for day-dreamings of an erotic nature.

Howard hands a pair of trousers back to Eleanor. “I might just go check on Mr. Fossil.”

“Yes, we’ve all been wondering about that Sheriff.”

Eleanor stops what she is doing to study Howard. Monty keeps his head down.

“Yeah, I know Mrs. Hopkins, but you do realise I can’t tell you anything?”

“It’s because of Mr. Parrot isn’t it?”

Howard raises his eyebrows at her but says nothing.

“Oh I’m sorry Sheriff, but it’s just been such an awful day hasn’t it? First Lance Parrot and then poor Deputy Noir and now Mr. Fossil locked up. I’m not sure my nerves can take much more of this.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t divulge anything right now. I don’t want to endanger anyone further.”

“I understand, but whatever the situation Sheriff go easy on Mr. Fossil won’t you. He’s a bit of a simpleton really. Very naive, not unlike your Deputy there?”

Howard bristles, “Vince isn’t a simpleton!”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean to say…it’s just…when I met him…oh ignore me running my mouth off.”

From behind Eleanor’s head Monty gives Howard a sly wink, and the Sheriff suddenly remembers Vince’s act of playing it a bit dumb in order to keep Bainbridge’s suspicions at bay. He clears his throat.

“Sorry, no, you’re right Mrs. Hopkins, Vince does have a sort of innocence about him. That’s what makes all this even more contemptible.”

“Yes, Mayor Bainbridge was very wrong to do what he did. We all agree with you.”

“Thank you. I see that you do and it’s nice to know, but like I said earlier I don’t want to put anyone else at risk while I try and sort this mess out.”

“Sheriff go do what you need to do. Monty and I are fine here.”

Eleanor ushers him backwards out of the cell and turns to Monty. “So, you were saying, a friend gave you that shirt…”

Howard smiles. With all that had happened, he was very lucky to have these people band around him like this. He was also very aware that Bainbridge was not going to be too chuffed to see it. He frowns to himself. Thinking of Bainbridge what on earth was the deal with Ralfe White’s presence? He had assumed Bainbridge had sent him along to spy on proceedings, but then Mr. White was one of the first to offer a hand in carrying out the metal bathtub. He pokes his head back into the cell.

“Monty, is Ralfe White still here do you know?”

“Yeah, he’s outside. I told him we didn’t need to take up any more of his time but he insisted on staying.”

“Right, thanks.”

Howard frowns again. Fossil can wait a while longer. This had gotten him curious.

He passes through the half mended door of his jailhouse, stopping briefly to backslap Corky in thanks before stepping out onto the veranda. He squints and makes out Mr. White lurking in the gloom about fifteen metres in front. He moves down the steps and approaches him cautiously.

“Mr. White?”

“Sheriff Moon.”

The two men stand face to face matching each other in height.

“Thank you for your help Mr. White but we’re all good here now.”

“I know that Sheriff, but I’d rather stay if it’s all the same to you.”

Howard pauses briefly, his mind running through a series of possibilities before he asks simply, “Why?”

Even in the dark Howard can see Ralfe White squirm. “I owe it to the young man inside to see that he’s kept safe tonight.”

“You owe it to him?”

Mr. White looks off to the side. “I made a mistake Sheriff, one I’m not proud of. This is my way of correcting that mistake.”

He looks back to Howard. The Sheriff feels his body stiffen as he senses what’s about to fall from the other man’s lips.

“This was my fault. I found the Deputy here and I broke down the door. I let the Piper Twins beat him to a pulp. I helped drag him back to Bainbridge. I threw the water on him to rouse him and then held him up as the Mayor accused him of murder in front of everybody. I held him as he shouted his innocence and I held him as Charlie Piper threw the punch that returned him to unconsciousness.”

Howard digs his nails into his palms. His eyes harden and he takes a small step forward. Ralfe White takes a small step back.

“There’s nothing I can say to excuse it other than I thought he was guilty. That and I found him here with my daughter and immediately assumed…” Ralfe White’s voice trails off.

Howard loosens his fists. His tone when he speaks though is full of suppressed rage. “Your daughter? She came here to tell me where to find Vince. Why is she a part of this?”

“From what I understand she came here to talk to the Deputy, I’m not sure why. When I spotted them together I thought he was trying it on, you know, trying to have his way with her. Turns out not to be the case but I flipped a little. I called the twins over and the rest, well…” He falters again, looking down at his feet as the last words leave him.

Howard doesn’t feel any sympathy for this man, he can’t. All he feels is anger. “I don’t think I want you here Mr. White, and I’m damn sure you’ll be the last person my Deputy will want to see when he wakes up.”

“Please Sheriff, let me stand out here tonight. I’ll stay in the shadows. The Deputy doesn’t need to know. I don’t think there’ll be any further trouble for the moment, but just in case. I’m more worried about those demented twins than anything else.”

Howard sucks on his moustache in thought. “Okay then, but as soon as it gets light you go.”

“Agreed, but I will be back tomorrow night, and the next, and the next until I know this thing is settled.”

Howard doesn’t answer. He just turns his back on the man and retreats to the jailhouse. Ralfe calls after him, “I’m sorry Sheriff!”

There’s a pause in Howard’s stride before he places his foot onto the bottom step, but he doesn’t look around. Instead he re-enters his jailhouse with the thick swill of distaste in his stomach.

He takes a quick glance over towards the sofa but cannot see much as the Doctor is leaning right over Vince. Sally is collecting up wet bloodied rags from the floor. She meets Howard’s gaze and smiles awkwardly before scuttling towards the fire to burn them. The Sheriff feels his stomach swirl again as the ache of anxiety for Vince mixes with the sharp smart of rage that’s already sitting there. He looks instead towards Bobby Fossil and takes a deep breath.

The bank manager has not moved a muscle or said a word for the best part of an hour. This concerns Howard and remembering Eleanor’s words he fills a mug with water, unlocks the cell door and enters. He holds out the mug to Bobby.

“Here, drink this.”

Fossil looks up at him, his eyes fogged as if he’s just been woken. He takes the mug and guzzles the water.

Howard sits alongside him on the bed and asks quietly, “Are you okay?”

Fossil looks at Howard from over the top of the mug but doesn’t stop drinking.

“If you’re not then you need to tell me Fossil. I can’t help you unless I know what’s wrong.”

Bobby lowers the mug to his lap and sits staring at it.

“You know I’m going to have to ask you some questions soon, questions that may be hard for you to answer, but I need to know the truth.”

The bank manager fidgets but keeps quiet.

“I want you to know that it’s not you I’m after. Quite frankly I don’t care what role you play in all of this. It’s Bainbridge that I need to stop.”

Howard notices Fossil jolt at the sound of his boss’ name. He leans right over and speaks firmly but quietly into Bobby’s ear. “That young man out there nearly died tonight because of Dixon Bainbridge and I know he’s tied in with Lance Parrot’s death. I also know that you have the murder weapon and that you know who did it. I will not be letting you go until you’ve told me everything, is that clear?”

Bobby is physically shaking, the remnants of the water sloshing about in the bottom of his mug. He lifts it up to his mouth to down the last, the rim clinking against his teeth.

Howard backs away. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you Fossil.”

Bobby looks up at him again, his face drained and eyes wide. He finally speaks. “I don’t feel too good Sheriff.”

Howard nods slowly. “What, you feel head pains, nausea?”

Fossil shrugs.

“Well I’ll send the Doctor over to check on you when he’s finished with Vince.”

“No!” He grabs Howard’s arm and the Sheriff looks at him in surprise,

“What do you mean no?”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

Fossil shakes his head. Howard can see he’s scared but the bank manager takes a deep breath. “Sorry, I don’t mean no, I mean, yeah, okay then yes. I do feel quite ill.”

Howard pulls his arm from Bobby’s grasp and stands. “I’ll get you some more water. Maybe you should lie down for a bit and I’ll send the Doctor over. Be warned though this isn’t going to get you out of answering my questions.”

Bobby shrugs again.

“I mean it Fossil.”

The two men are interrupted by a call from the front of the jailhouse,

“Sheriff Moon, are you here?”

The Doctor’s voice.

“Yeah I’m up the back Doc.”

The Doctor approaches quickly, wiping his hands on a cloth. He stops outside the cell. “He’s awake Sheriff and he’s asking for you.”

Howard’s heart almost leaps from his chest. “He’s awake?”

“Yes, and in surprisingly good spirits considering.”

“O thank god!” Howard takes the mug from Bobby’s still shaking hands. “Would you mind having a look at Mr. Fossil? He says he’s not feeling too good.”

The Doctor steps into the cell and stands in front of the bank manager.

“Of course I will Sheriff.”

Howard nods his thanks and manages to somehow walk not sprint to the sofa. Sally starts to move away as he approaches, but he puts his hand out to stop her,

“Thank you Miss Glister.”

Sally reddens and drops her head shyly before mumbling a ‘no trouble’ and hurrying out of the jailhouse door.

Howard finally looks at Vince.

In the moment that their eyes meet it’s as if all the noise is sucked out of the room. The chatter of voices, the banging of Corky’s hammer, and the soft sound of the fire’s flames all disappear as an invisible wall of silence surrounds them. Howard steps forward slowly never once pulling his gaze away from the burnished blue-gray magnets of his Deputy.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You’re awake then.”

“Seems so.” Vince’s harsh croaky voice sounds so wrong coming from him. It doesn’t suit him.

Howard points to the side of the couch. “May I?”

Vince nods and Howard seats himself alongside Vince’s hipbone. “I’m so sorry.”

Vince doesn’t respond but Howard can see a tear forming in the corner of his eye. Vince blinks it away quickly. “Not your fault.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m still sorry.”

Vince nods again at this and then shifts his gaze to the other side of the room. Howard follows it and looks back over his shoulder.

Corky’s standing inside with the newly mended door shut. He gestures to Howard as he finishes polishing the latch. “All done Sheriff. I’ve put a new lock on it for you too.”

“Thank you so much Corky, I really appreciate you sorting it out for me. I’ll come and pay you tomorrow.”

“No rush, I know you’re good for it. I’ll bid you good evening then Sheriff, and you too Deputy. Glad to see you’re still alive.”

Vince smiles in return, but is shocked somewhat at the frankness of the carpenter’s words. He must have come pretty close to dying tonight.

Vince looks back at Howard and yes, he can see everything so vividly reflected back at him. The pure anguish in the Sheriff’s features, the redness to his eyes and messiness of his hair are enough to tell him how close his call had been. He reaches over and lays a hand on Howard’s arm. “You alright?”

Howard’s expression changes to one of bemusement. “Am I alright? You’re asking if I’m alright.”

“Yeah.”

Howard sighs. “I almost lost you.”

“You saved me.”

“I nearly didn’t. That was too much. I don’t think you should stay here anymore. I think you should leave and not come back until this is all over.”

“No Howard.”

“Vince…”

“No!” Vince coughs as the force of his exclamation scrapes his throat. Howard puts a reassuring hand on Vince’s chest until the cough subsides. When their eyes meet again Vince’s are all watery, but the determination within them is set. “Not going.”

“I don’t want you to die.”

“Not going anywhere.”

They stare at each other, both men unable to think of anything else to say for the moment. Howard lifts his hand away from Vince’s chest and instead runs it through his own hair and the day’s growth on his cheeks. He notices too that the bruise on Vince’s jaw is already less prominent as it lies within dark stubble. The Sheriff actually thinks Vince looks pretty good with it. It ages him slightly, makes him look a little more mature. Howard wonders again what age Vince might actually be.

“We need a shave. I’ll get Jean Claude or Jack to pay us a visit tomorrow and sort us out.”

“Not me.” Vince puts his fingers to the burn around his neck and Howard mentally kicks himself for suggesting something so stupid.

“No, of course, not you.”

The two men are quiet again.

There’s a rustling sound behind them and this time Doctor Bamshoot, Eleanor and Monty are there.

“I’ll be leaving you to your own devices now Sheriff. Your bedrooms are all finished.”

“Thank you Mrs. Hopkins, and please thank Mr. Hopkins too.”

“I will.” Eleanor leans around Howard to smile sweetly at Vince. “You look after yourself sweetheart. No doing anything too strenuous for a little while. And you make sure the Sheriff here takes good care of you.”

“I will.”

“I’ll pop back tomorrow with some food. In the meantime all of you get some sleep. You look shattered.”

Mrs. Hopkins opens the door and Doctor Bamshoot follows.

“I’ll be going too now gentlemen. Make sure Deputy Noir keeps sipping water but no food for the moment. I’ve left some ointment on the table here that you can start applying to his burns and grazes from tomorrow. I’ll be back in the morning to check up on you all but in the meantime follow Mrs. Hopkin’s advice and get some sleep.”

“And what about Mr. Fossil. Is he alright?”

“Nothing the matter with him as far as I can tell. Maybe a little sleep deprived too. It’s not my usual recommendation but I’m going to be pouring myself a stiff drink when I get home. Maybe you could all do with partaking in the same.”

Monty reaches into his jacket that strewn across the back of a chair and lifts a bottle from the inner pocket. “Already thought of that Doctor.”

“Well it won’t do any harm. If the Deputy has any though make sure it’s watered down. Well goodnight again and I’ll see you all in the morning.”

“Goodnight Doctor and thank you so very much.”

“It’s my job Sheriff, just as catching criminals is yours.”

“Yes, but thank you all the same.”

Monty locks the door behind them. “You still want me to stay Howard?”

“Of course Monty, but only if you crack that bottle open. And give one to Fossil back there too. Might help the poor sod get some sleep. Can you lock the cell door why you’re at it too please?”

“I will, but I thought you wanted to question him tonight.”

Howard looks back at Vince lovingly before reaching for his hand. Vince gives it willingly, their fingers stroking each other in gentle circles.

“I did but I’m too tired. Let’s all have a drink instead yeah.”

“You needn’t ask me twice.”

As Monty fishes around for mugs and glasses and water Vince squeezes Howard’s hand to get his attention.

“I’ll sleep here.”

“Yeah, I thought so. I don’t want to risk moving you yet.”

“You sleep here too?”

Howard looks at the length of the couch and then down at the length of his own body. He checks himself. Why the hell was he questioning the practicalities of it? He’d damn well make it work somehow.

He gives Vince’s hand a delicate squeeze back. “You try stopping me. I’m not leaving your side for one second tonight.”

Howard wraps his arms a little tighter around Vince as the Deputy shudders hard against his chest. He’s very careful not to wake him. As fitful as Vince’s sleep is it’s still sleep.

Howard himself is exhausted, but his brain is too wired to find the sandman. Instead he just lies there alone with his thoughts, willing the monsters to leave Vince’s abused body alone and sighing quietly into the younger man’s hair.

Monty had retired to Vince’s cot bed over an hour ago, filled with whiskey and barely able to keep his eyes open. That had been ten minutes after the sound of Bobby Fossil’s snoring had reached them from the back cell. Vince had succumbed to sleep long before that and Howard hadn’t left his side the entire night, well save to piss once as quickly as he could possibly manage.

It had been nice actually, sitting at the end of the sofa with Vince’s legs over his lap, a drink in one hand and the Deputy’s fingers nestled loosely into the other. Nice that he could share this moment with Monty, chatting in soft voices, sharing his hopes and concerns, acknowledging his feelings to his best friend. He only wishes it were under better circumstances.

After Monty had withdrawn, Howard had slid himself up the lounge to lie behind Vince, wrapping one arm under Vince’s neck and the other protectively across his bruised and battered chest. Vince had started to stir but Howard had whispered him back to sleep. He’d placed delicate kisses onto the distressed left shoulder, whilst all the while rubbing soothing circles onto Vince’s palm. The young man had settled back against him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

But fifteen minutes ago Vince had started jolting in his sleep.

Howard tried not to think about what nightmares were plaguing Vince’s brain, but he couldn’t help it. He wondered if each jerk was another punch being remembered or another kick to the stomach. Or maybe worse, maybe the exact moment of being hoisted out of semi-consciousness by a rope tightening around his neck. The Sheriff feels the all too familiar whirl of nausea expand within him.

Vince is mumbling now. Howard’s sure he can make out a ‘no’. He presses his torso firmer against Vince’s back hoping that somehow Vince will sense him through the dream. He squeezes Vince’s hand and restarts the circles.

“No I…” Vince flies awake and attempts to sit upright, but pain charges through him and he drops back down to the couch. “Shit! Ow shit.”

“Vince, it’s alright, come here.”

“Howard?”

“Come here.”

Vince rolls himself over so he’s facing Howard and buries himself into the bigger man’s chest. “Fuck I was having a bad dream.”

“Yeah I know.”

The damage in Vince’s voice is shocking. He’d temporarily forgotten how bad it sounded. Howard holds Vince firmly against him.

“Was I talking?”

“Not really, just shuddering a lot.”

“I dreamt you and Bainbridge were fighting, like proper fighting yeah, like a boxing match, and I was just lying on the floor between you.”

“You should try not to talk too much.”

“I know, but I was trying to get you to stop fighting but you wouldn’t. You couldn’t hear me, and couldn’t see me. I couldn’t move either and you kept stepping on me to reach each other. I wanted to grab your leg to get your attention but my arm was stuck to the ground. And you kept pounding each other and both your blood was falling onto my face and I couldn’t move to shake it off. God, it was horrible.”

Howard doesn’t know what to say in response so he kisses the top of Vince’s head and clutches him a little tighter. There’s a very pregnant silence as both men take some precious time to cling to each other.

“Howard?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you finish what you were wanting to tell me earlier, you know, after the bath?”

Vince feels Howard shake his head. “I can’t, not now.”

“Please.”

Howard’s quiet.

“I really need you to Howard.”

“Why?”

“Because of this. Because I need to know you’re with me one hundred percent now, and for that to happen you have to finish your story.”

“I still think you should go. I think you should get out of Moonstone.”

“I can’t leave you. I don’t want to leave you. And I can never go back to ranch work, not now.”

“Even so.”

“Are you telling me to go Howard?” Vince pulls away enough to look up into the Sheriff’s face, but it’s in heavy shadow and he can’t make out Howard’s features. Instead he returns his cheek to Howard’s breastbone. “Surely you don’t really want me to go?”

Howard closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “No, I don’t really want that. What I really want is this, every single night and in my bed. But I can’t watch you go through something like this again. If you leave at least I know you’ll be safe.”

“Safe? Don’t be ridiculous. You can only know I’m truly safe if I’m right here next to you. And what about me, living in another town, having to deal with thoughts of what might be happening to you? Why do you think that’s fair on me?”

Howard’s quiet again.

“Please, tell me the whole thing then we can move on to the next chapter. You know the bit where you bring Bainbridge to justice and take back control of the town, and we get to sit on the veranda in rocking chairs watching sunsets.”

“You can’t see the sunset from the veranda.”

“Just tell me.”

“Alright, alright. It’s really hard to find the words.”

“Imagine you’re reading them, like you’ve written a letter and you’re reading it aloud to me.”

“What? You mean like ‘Dear Vince’?”

“If you like. Might help.”

“Okay, but you’ve got to promise to stop talking for a bit. You’re going to really damage your throat.”

“I’m…”

“Vince!”

Vince nods against him and then rolls carefully onto his back to give Howard room to speak. The wounds across his spine smart but he doesn’t care. He runs his fingers down Howard’s jaw to encourage the Sheriff to start.

Howard swallows.

“You’ve probably noticed this town doesn’t have a preacher. Well it used to, he died this year. His name was Red O’Reilly and he was a hard-nosed bastard. Got his kicks scaring folks along to his sermons. He turned up sometime after Bainbridge and immediately seemed to be in his pocket. I dunno if he was even a proper preacher. Seems to me any old bloke can pick up a bible and wave it in the air. If someone shouts loud enough people normally listen.”

Howard reaches for Vince’s hand and pulls it to his heart, grasping onto it tightly.

“O’Reilly didn’t turn up on his own. He had a handful of young men with him, I dunno, maybe five of them. I’m guessing they were about your age, although as I don’t know how old that is…”

“And you don’t need to know.”

“Huh. Anyway he came with these lads. Wherever he went there was always one or two of them with him. It seemed odd but then church matters aren’t something the law can easily get involved in. Tommy and I didn’t worry about it.”

Howard pauses.

“Go on, s’alright.”

“It was not quite two years ago. I’d been up to visit Tommy’s grave and needed somewhere quiet to sit. I found myself pulled towards the church. I don’t know why, but for some reason it seemed like the thing to do. I hadn’t been inside the church since Tommy’s funeral, since the day I had to hear words spouting from a man I disliked about a man I loved. Maybe that’s why I needed to go there then, to help heal the memory of that day. I dunno, it just felt right, to be there rather than here at the jailhouse. I felt nearer to Tommy somehow. I was grateful that the church was empty, it was very peaceful. I prayed a bit but mostly I sat there with my thoughts. Well at some point one of O’Reilly’s young men appeared and handed me a cup of water. It was such a simple caring gesture I’m embarrassed to say it made me cry. I sat there sobbing until out of the blue this lad says to me, “you must have loved the Sheriff very much.” I’ve still no idea what made him say that. Anyway he sat down next to me and told me his name was Gregory and that he also knew what it meant to love. We chatted for a while. I told him how Tommy had hired me and how we’d built Moonstone from scratch. He told me that O’Reilly had found him pick-pocketing before introducing him to God. We were both agreeing that we’d each been saved from ourselves when suddenly he leant in and kissed me.”

Vince manages to remain quiet.

“And Vince, I don’t know what came over me but I returned the kiss. It was like all my pent up anger and grief and frustration came rushing out of me and I lunged on the poor fellow. That’s not to say he didn’t kiss me back with equal vigour, but it was my fault Vince. I could have stopped it, should have, but I didn’t. Before I knew it we had our shirts off and were fondling each other like randy teenagers. It was lust, pure and sinful and releasing. I hardly even remember what he looked like, and at that moment I didn’t care. I needed him.”

Howard stops again. He tips his head back and squeezes his eyes shut in an effort to both forget and remember.

“Thing is I’d lost track of time. I was too caught up in myself… O’Reilly and Bainbridge walked in.”

“Fuck no!”

Vince can’t help himself. Howard opens his eyes and looks down at his Deputy. Even in the darkness of the room he can still see Vince’s blue eyes sparkling up at him, like two bright beacons in the night directing him to safety.

“Obviously I jumped up in alarm. The lad did too. I’m not sure which one of us looked more scared. I’m not sure which one of O’Reilly or Bainbridge looked more shocked. Bainbridge started laughing. “Oh my god,” he shouted, “Well this is priceless.” I couldn’t say anything, I was mortified. Bainbridge carried on, “I never knew our Sheriff was a mandrake. And having it off with an altar boy, how very seedy. This truly is a most interesting development.”

Howard lets go of Vince’s hand and rubs at his eyes and forehead.

“So what did Bainbridge do Howard?”

“Actually he’s never actually done anything, aside from making constant reference to it. He holds it over me though. That and Tommy’s death. Moonstone’s greatest sex and murder scandal! It’s his way of trying to keep me in line I guess, like a silent threat.”

“And Gregory?”

“I’m ashamed to say I’ve no idea what happened to him. Immediately after the incident I ran back here and stayed holed up for the next few days and pretty much drank the world away. That was until there came a knock at my door one night, and Monty was outside with a bottle in one hand and a plate of bacon and beans in the other. Said he’d heard a few rumours floating around the saloon, and that although he didn’t want to pry that perhaps I needed a friend to confide in. One that would understand. I’d never seen him before in my life, but somehow I immediately trusted him. He’s been my rock ever since.”

“So Monty’s into men too. I did wonder.”

“I’m not sure if Monty’s ever been into anything physically though Vince. He doesn’t seem attracted to men that way. For him it’s more of a romantic thing. Whenever I’ve asked him about his fantasies he always ends up describing a scene from a play or quoting a piece of poetry. It was he who taught me that Keats letter. He really is a remarkable man.”

“I’m glad you’ve had a friend all this time Howard.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what I’d have done without Monty.”

“So where does he normally live?”

“When he arrived in town he rented the old theatre. It’s only small, quite rundown and it hasn’t seen a play put on in years, but I think Monty feels most alive when he’s in there.

“And his clothes?”

“Hmmm?”

“His clothes. Why are they here?”

“I wondered when you’d ask that. It’s nothing really, just a contingency plan in case we ever have to make a quick getaway. We figured he should hide some of his things in that cell with my mess. He keeps his horse right alongside mine too.”

“I’d like to see your horses soon. I’m good with animals.”

“You’re not too shoddy with people either Vince.” Howard’s hit by a flash of white as Vince smiles widely at that.

“Thank you, for telling me that is.”

“Thank you for listening and not leaving.”

Vince smiles again. “Not that I could leave even if I wanted to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well I’m hardly in a fit state to do a runner now am I?”

For a fleeting second Howard thinks he’s being serious until he’s dazzled for a third time by Vince’s smile.

“Do you feel better for telling me?”

“Yeah, I do actually, although it hasn’t really sunk in properly yet. Maybe it never will, but I’m glad I told you.”

“And you don’t regret us like you do Gregory do you?”

Howard’s eyes go wide in surprise. “Oh my god of course not. This is nothing like that. No, no. This is something, I dunno, something…”

“Unfathomable?”

“Ha, yeah, unfathomable is about right.”

“So you’re glad you told me and you don’t regret us and you don’t want me to leave?”

“All that Vince, yes.”

“So will you kiss me now please?”

“Oh.” Howard props himself up on one elbow and lightly strokes Vince’s stubbled cheek. He has no idea what he’s done to deserve this man lying beside him, a man that through a tonne of angst and near death still wants nothing more than to be kissed by him. Unfathomable is the perfect word.

Still stroking Vince’s cheek Howard bends across and places his lips delicately against the Deputy’s own. He rests there for a second and allows his brain to catch up before he gently sucks. Below him Vince moans lightly and Howard pulls away.

“Did I hurt you? Shit, did I lean on something?”

Vince pulls Howard’s head back towards his mouth. “You haven’t hurt me Howard. You make me ache but you haven’t hurt me at all.”

Vince pulls harder until their mouths are joined again.

It’s a sleepy sort of kiss, effortless in its tenderness and plump with passion. Both men have their eyes closed, sharing the moment as one, their tongues dancing a slow waltz. They sigh into each other, they breathe each other. Through touch and taste they align themselves. With each sip and suckle and swallow they announce their commitment to each other. They lace their fingers and feet and lips and nerves and hearts. They wash away bad memories with their mouths and fill each other with promise. They drink each other until their bellies are full, and then greedily feast again. They billow with love.

Eventually Howard feels the younger man slacken and Vince’s lips stop moving beneath his. He pulls away smiling to himself. He’s not sure if he should feel this content, but he does. Howard lies back down, his long arms encompassing his Deputy like an armoured shroud, and finally he allows himself to follow Vince into sleep.

---

[nextpage title=”Running”]

Running

Howard opens one eye groggily. He closes it, takes a long breath, and then opens both. Sunlight is streaming into the jailhouse. He vaguely wonders what time it is. He sighs happily before rolling onto his back and stretching his spine. Ahh, it feels good. He stretches his arms out above his head, and then, hang on, he pauses mid-stretch, something’s not right…

Howard bolts upright. “Vince! Vince! Where are you?”

“Back here Howard.”

Monty’s voice. Thank god. Howard sighs in relief and raises himself from the couch, bones creaking as he does so. He stretches again before making his way to the cells.

He looks in on Bobby Fossil who’s sitting at the pillow end of his cot bed, his back against the wall and gently humming to himself. Bobby raises his head as the Sheriff approaches.

“I’ll get you some food soon Fossil and then we can have that little talk.”

Fossil doesn’t stop humming, he just stares blankly back at Howard. The Sheriff frowns. He’s beginning to worry that maybe arresting Bobby wasn’t the best idea. Still it’s done now.

Laughter from the other cell redirects his attention and he walks to the doorway of his bedroom. In the light of day he can see more clearly how well Monty and Eleanor have tidied the place up. He’s silently thankful for it, there’s no blood evident anywhere.

But he’s more thankful for the other sight that transfixes him now.

Vince and Monty are standing facing the mirror, smiles beaming across their faces. Monty is lightly supporting Vince under his elbow, but the younger man looks incredibly well considering. He’s posing, hand on one hip, dressed and booted and a scarlet scarf curling around his slender neck. Howard notices an assortment of other scarves laying across Monty’s arm.

“You two having fun?”

Vince grins even wider at him in via the mirror, but the sparkle of his blue eyes is unable to fully mask a layer of pain beneath. Howard gives him a concerned smile back.

“You look better for getting some sleep Howard. Vince and I didn’t want to wake you so we thought we’d check out these clothes properly. I’d forgotten what was here to be honest, and christy knows if I can still fit into half of it. I think the Deputy might be getting some of these things for keeps.”

Vince is still smiling at Howard. “Do you like the scarf?”

That croak in his voice startles Howard yet again, although perhaps it sounds a bit softer than it did last night. He nods a little sadly at Vince, knowing the reason behind the garment and therefore unable to say much else. Vince eyes water slightly at the Sheriff’s reaction and he looks quickly away. Howard mentally kicks himself.

“Monty, do you mind if…?”

Monty’s already passing the scarves to Howard. “Of course not my boy, of course not. I think it’s time for coffee and eggs anyway don’t you? My stomach thinks my throat’s…” he falters, realising where that sentence is going, “…well no maybe not that, anyway, don’t mind me.”

Howard pulls the hanging drapes tightly across the door and bars as Monty leaves and turns back to Vince. The Deputy’s still got his back to him, but he’s no longer looking in the mirror. Instead he’s standing with his head bowed, one hand clinging to the mirror’s frame, the red scarf dangling from the fingers of his other.

Howard drops the scarves he’s holding across the lid of a chest and moves up behind Vince. He very gently wraps his long arms around the younger man’s body and places his mouth to Vince’s ear.

“Should you really be upright?”

He feels Vince shrug beneath him.

Howard moves his arms away and takes Vince’s hand, leading him through the hanging throws and to his bed. Vince winces as Howard lowers him to a seated position but he doesn’t say anything. Howard grabs a chair from the corner of the room, sits himself down in front of Vince and begins to undo the buttons on the Deputy’s shirt.

Vince sits quietly, his head slightly turned away and down, his gaze fixed to a point on the floor.

“I need to see Vince.”

Vince nods.

“I need to see in the light. I need to know how bad.”

Vince nods again but this time looks up at Howard. His eyes are still a little watery but Howard can see he’s refusing to let himself cry.

“Monty told me what you did. He told me exactly what you did to save me.”

It’s Howard’s turn to nod.

“Thank you. It was very brave.”

“You’d have done the same for me.”

“Not sure I’d have been able to carry you all the way back here though.”

Howard’s grins weakly at the image.

He peels Vince’s now opened shirt slowly away from his body and off his arms. With his torso suddenly exposed Vince feels peculiarly vulnerable and he instinctively wraps his arms across himself. Howard takes his wrists.

“Please, I need to see.”

Vince allows his arms to be moved away. He stares at Howard, searching the Sheriff’s expressions for any sign of distaste or aversion. He sees nothing of the sort.

Howard runs his fingers gently along Vince’s collarbone and across the red welts that circle his neck. Vince shudders slightly but not in pain. It feels nice and soothing, cooling almost. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to take pleasure in Howard’s touch.

The Sheriff doesn’t stroke the bruised areas of Vince’s ribcage or stomach. He can’t bear to out of fear he might hurt him, but he draws an outline around them and commits each mark and reddened patch to memory. He wants to keep a proper eye on them to make sure they all heal as they should.

“Can you stand up for me?”

Vince opens his eyes and raises himself to his feet. Howard stands with him, pushing the chair backwards out the way. “You alright?”

“Yeah.”

“I just want to check your legs too. That’s okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

Howard undoes Vince’s trousers, lowers them to get a look at Vince’s bruised thighs, and then raises them again. Finally he spins Vince to study his bandaged up back. A little blood has seeped through one of the dressings but most of the scratches look far less angry than they had the day before.

Satisfied he’s seen all he needs to Howard sits Vince back down on the bed and pulling the shirt around the Deputy’s shoulders. He sits down next to him and takes Vince’s hand in his.

“So this is what’s going to happen today. We’re going to get ourselves some breakfast, then I expect Doctor Bamshoot will be around shortly, and I also expect we’ll have a few other guests throughout the day. If at any point it’s all too much you tell me and I’ll get rid of them.”

“Okay. What about Bobby Fossil though? Have you asked him about the knife yet?”

“Not yet no. I will do straight after breakfast though.”

“We can do it together.”

“I don’t think you’re up to it.”

“Let me be the judge of that. I know you’re worried about me, but really I’m alright. Yes most of me hurts and my throat feels like I’ve swallowed a cactus, but I was there remember, with Fossil and Joey and the knife. It might be better coming from me.”

“We’ll see.”

“Howard…”

“Look, get some food inside you first. We’ll go from there.”

“I promise to take things easy, but please don’t block me out in some effort to protect me. That’s not going to help.”

Howard laughs lightly. “Do you know how hard it is for me not to order you straight to bed now? I don’t even think you should be up and dressed.”

“I refuse to be anyone’s burden.”

“You’re not a burden Vince, you’re my…” Howard pauses not quite sure what analogy to use, “…you’re my…”

Vince leans forward and pecks him on the cheek. “Your mine too, and it’s nice to feel protected and cared for by you, but don’t keep me in the dark and don’t smother me. It’s not so nice to feel smothered.”

“Yeah you’re right, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, you haven’t done any of that. I’m just warning you not to leave me out of the investigation okay?”

Howard strokes Vince’s cheek. “Okay little man.”

“Though you can kiss me better anytime you want to.”

Howard smiles and kisses Vince’s forehead before placing a lingering kiss on the Deputy’s lips.

“Yeah, you can do that anytime.”

“You know, you’re right about Fossil, we should talk to him together. And seeing you in this state might help get him to open up. It sort of proves to him why we need to stop Bainbridge.”

“Exactly.”

“Just don’t go straining yourself.”

“We need to catch the murderer. That’s what’s important.”

“Yes, but it’s important to get you well again too.”

Vince removes his hand from Howard’s and brushes the Sheriff’s hair away from his face. “And what about you lawman? It’s less than twenty-four hours since I found you lying semi-conscious at the top of a hill. How’s your head?”

“I’ve not had time to worry about it really, but it’s fine I think. A little tender, but there’s hardly even a bump. Feel.” Howard takes Vince’s fingers and guides them through his hair so he can feel for himself the tiny lump on the top of his scalp.

Vince continues to stroke Howard’s head after Howard has let go. “Your hair is so soft.”

“Hah.”

“It is. It’s softer than rabbit pelt.”

“I think I take after my mother that way. She had beautiful dark brown curls.”

“She’d have to be beautiful to bear someone like you.”

“Don’t be daft.”

Vince pulls his hand from Howard’s hair and instead strokes the inside of the Sheriff’s arm. “I’m not being daft. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

“Vince, come off it.”

“Stop correcting me Howard. I know what I’m saying and what I mean. You ARE the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

Howard leans in to kiss Vince again, warm embers floating through him as Vince quietly moans against his mouth.

“You two ready for food?!”

Howard and Vince pull apart, both slightly flushed.

“You’d best do my shirt up for me, it looks like we’ve been up to no good.”

Howard buttons Vince back up, all the way including the collar. He realises why Vince has chosen this particular item. Like the scarf it covers every mark on his neck. It’s only Vince’s cut eyebrow that suggests anything of the day before. Howard shakes his head.

“What?”

“If I’m beautiful then I don’t know which word to use about you.”

The Sheriff ruffles Vince’s hair.

“Oi, not the barnet.”

Howard laughs. “You alright to finish getting ready on your own?”

“Yeah, I’ll go slowly.”

“Good. I need to check those eggs. Monty tries hard but cooking really isn’t his forte.”

“As we discussed then yeah?”

“Sure Howard, I’ll go up the street for some supplies. Leave you both to it for a bit.”

“Vince?”

“Yeah, I’m cool.”

“Okay. Here Monty, hand me that plate.”

Howard loads it with eggs and bread, and pours out a coffee. “C’mon then Vince.”

Monty leaves the jailhouse and closes the door behind him as Howard and Vince make their way up to Bobby Fossil’s cell. Vince opens it and they both enter.

“Here, food as promised.”

Bobby looks at Howard suspiciously for a second before grabbing the plate and greedily guzzling down the contents.

“You gonna eat the plate too Fossil?”

Vince takes the mug of coffee from Howard and moves forward. “It’s Bobby isn’t it?”

Bobby stops chewing to look up into Vince’s face.

“Hi, I’m Vince. We met yesterday down by the railroad, do you remember?”

“Yeah, you’re the new Deputy.”

“That’s right. Here…” Vince holds out the mug. “Slow down a bit yeah, you’re gonna choke.”

“Mm, I get hungry when I’m nervous.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about Bobby. The Sheriff needs to ask you a few questions.”

Howard exits the cell and then returns with a chair which he drags up close to the side of the bed. Vince backs away to give him room and to lean up against the bars.

Bobby slurps on his coffee.

“Well I’ve given you all night to think about things Fossil so it’s time you give me some answers now. Do you understand?”

Fossil just stares at him from over the rim of his mug.

“Playing dumb’s not gonna cut it this time. Who killed Lance Parrot?”

“I…I…please, I.”

“For fuck’s sake man, grow some balls won’t you. I know you know.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I can’t. He’ll kill me too.

“So you do know.”

“I…no, I can’t.”

“Then you’re happy to hang for him are you?”

Howard internally cringes at having to bring the H word up in front of Vince. He hears the Deputy shuffle slightly behind him. It has to be done though.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you didn’t kill Parrot, but you have the knife so in the eyes of the law all the evidence points at you.”

“The knife?” Bobby’s eyes are huge.

“Yeah the knife. The long, thin sharp one.”

“But…”

“You know the one. It belongs to Joey, but you borrowed it from him.”

“But…”

“You can’t deny it Fossil. The Deputy saw you pick it up. He heard you talking about it.”

“But…”

“Lance’s blood was all over it.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Wasn’t what?”

“It wasn’t all over it. It was clean.”

Howard pauses, allowing Bobby time to realise his mistake. Bobby starts to tremble.

“Sheriff please!”

Howard shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but if you don’t tell me then you will hang for this.”

“I can’t. He knows I’m here and he’ll get me. Somehow he’ll get me.”

“You’re dead anyway.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Oh I think I do, but let me elaborate a little more. Do you know what it feels like to die by hanging Fossil? Do you have any idea?”

Howard tries not to let the image of Vince being pulled upright by the rope invade his thoughts. He keeps his glare cold, swallowing down any emotion as best he can. “Would you like to see?” Howard beckons Vince forward. “Show him Deputy.”

Vince takes a breath and undoes the top of his shirt. He flicks his hair out of the way and stretches his neck, exposing to Bobby the rope burn marks that spiral around it.

“What? How?”

“Vince here nearly died last night Fossil. He nearly died because folks thought he murdered Lance. They strung him up and nearly killed him for a murder he did not commit. Tell him Deputy.”

“The Sheriff’s telling the truth Bobby.”

“But, you didn’t kill Mr. Parrot.”

“No I didn’t, and neither did you, but it doesn’t matter does it? You look guiltier than I did. This will happen to you too, except I don’t think you’ll be as lucky as me to survive it. I at least have the law on my side. All you have is the knife.”

Vince does his shirt back up and returns to leaning on the bars. Fossil stares after him.

Howard pokes him in the chest. “Fossil. Who killed Lance Parrot?”

“I don’t want to hang.”

“And I don’t want to hang you, now who killed Lance Parrot?”

“Really Sheriff, please.”

“Should I go get Joey? Maybe he can tell me?”

“No, he doesn’t know anything.”

“But he knows his knife was used.”

“Yes, no, he’ll…”

“He’ll hang too most likely.”

“But you can’t!”

“Yes I can! I am the Sheriff.”

“Not Joey. He’s got nothing to do with this.”

“You’re gonna have to give me a little more than that.”

“I can’t. Mayor Bainbridge will…”

“Mayor Bainbridge will what?”

“He’ll know. I can’t please Sheriff. You know what he’s like.”

“What’s he like?”

“Please!”

“Fossil for fuck’s sake! What’s Bainbridge like?”

“He’ll kill me.”

“He’ll kill you like he killed Parrot?”

“No, he didn’t, I…”

“Did he kill Parrot?”

“I. No, please stop.”

“Fossil tell me!

“I can’t! I CAN’T!!”

“Tell me goddamn you!” Howard springs forward and slaps the mug out of Bobby’s hands sending it crashing to the floor. Hot coffee splatters across the bed and across Bobby’s arms.

“Aargh! Ow!”

Vince steps forward and lays a hand on Howard’s shoulder. “Sheriff, maybe you’d best step out for a minute or two.”

Howard glares at the bank manager before turning on his heel and walking quickly out of both the cell and the front door.

Vince turns back to Bobby. “You okay?”

“He burnt me.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Vince points to the end of the bed. “May I sit?”

Bobby nods.

“Look, I know you’re scared, Mayor Bainbridge is a scary man, but you’ve got to tell the Sheriff what you know. He’s not lying. You will hang for this.”

“But if I tell him I’ll still die.”

“If you tell him then we can protect you. If you tell him then we can arrest the real murderer instead and you’ll be free to go.”

“But Bainbridge will still be around.”

“Maybe we’ll arrest him too.”

“For what?”

“You tell me. What can we arrest him for?”

Bobby shrugs. “He’s my friend.”

Vince looks at him with both pity and pride. Loyalty to another man is always admirable, even in the most dismal of circumstances.

“He’s not your friend Bobby. Men like the Mayor don’t have friends.”

“But he looks after me.”

“He treats you like a dog and you know it. When was the last time he had a drink with you, shared a meal, or told you a joke?”

“He’s not like that.”

“But that’s what real friends do.”

Bobby nods towards the door. “Are you and the Sheriff friends?”

“Yes, yes we are.”

“He rescued you last night didn’t he?”

“Yes he did.”

“Risked his life for you?”

“I think so Bobby yeah, but I was in pretty bad shape. I don’t really remember much.”

“I saw him carry you in.”

“Yep.”

“I’m not sure if the Mayor would do the same for me.”

Vince feels a sudden empathy for the bank manager. He is, after all, watching the man’s life come crashing down. The Deputy moves a little further up the bed towards Bobby and puts a comforting hand on his leg. “I tell you what, why don’t I have a word with the Sheriff, see if I can’t get him to do a deal with you.”

“A deal?”

“Well what say you give us some snippet of information, some little nugget of truth that will help us pin something on Mayor Bainbridge?”

“He didn’t kill Parrot.”

“But did he know about it?”

Bobby lowers his head.

“Did he order the kill Bobby?”

There’s a pregnant pause before Bobby nods ever so slowly. Vince’s heart skips a beat. His brain is cheering but he keeps his voice steady, even through its hoarseness.

“And the murderer is still in town too?”

Bobby nods again.

“Look, we need to get Bainbridge off the street and out of office. We need to get the murderer too, but I actually think the Mayor’s the more dangerous at the moment. You’re the only one that can help us Bobby. You must have something you can tell us.”

“How big is something?”

“I dunno. Something that allows us to arrest him, or at least get him out of town.”

“He won’t like that.”

“No I don’t imagine he will, but it’s your best hope isn’t it?”

“Can I go free?”

“Do you want to? We can protect you better if you stay here.”

“I want to go home.”

“Well I’ll have to check with the Sheriff, but I don’t see why not. At least for the time being. You’ve got to give us something solid though.”

“The knife. I’ll give you the knife.”

“That’s good, but we already know you have that. We need something else. A secret maybe. Something that Bainbridge has hidden away or buried in his past.”

Bobby closes his eyes in thought. He keeps them shut as he starts to speak, as if by not looking then he’s not really doing what he’s doing.

“There’s a man who lives in a cave. A magic man.”

Vince frowns. This isn’t exactly what he’s been expecting. Even so he encourages Bobby to continue.

“The magic man knows a lot. He senses things and sees things. The Mayor has visited him a few times.”

“And what exactly does this magic man do for the Mayor?”

Bobby opens his eyes. “He seems to make him happier.”

“What?”

“He helps the Mayor feel better.”

Vince is utterly thrown. He hoped Bobby would tell him about some misappropriated property or the site of a buried body. This stuff about a magic man is plain weird.

“I’m not sure if I follow you Bobby. I’m not sure I can believe all that.”

“It’s true, I swear, and I can prove it.”

“How?”

“I can take you to see him. I know where the cave is.”

Vince looks at him skeptically.

“I do. He took me with him once. He made me wait outside, but I know where it is.”

Vince sighs deeply. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell the Sheriff. You can take him to see your magic man.”

“No! It has to be you.”

“What?”

“I trust you. And if you’re with me then the Sheriff won’t do anything rash.”

Vince raises an eyebrow. Maybe Bobby wasn’t always as slow witted as he appeared.

The Deputy puts out a hand as an offer to shake. Bobby stares at it for a second before grasping it firmly.

“Okay, you have yourself a deal. You tell the Sheriff where the knife is and you take me to meet this magic man, and I’ll make sure you don’t hang for Lance Parrot’s murder. Agreed?”

“Yeah, agreed.”

The two men shake.

“But Bobby you still need to tell us who murdered Lance.”

Bobby looks Vince square in the eye and gives him a thin smile. “No, because once you meet with the magic man I won’t need to tell you anything.”

“So did that work?”

“Yeah kinda.”

“Kind of?”

“Well he admitted that Dixon Bainbridge ordered the murder.”

“He did? Wow, that’s huge.”

“Yeah!”

“And the murderer?”

Vince shakes his head. “Sorry Howard, he wouldn’t say. He’s going to give us the knife though.”

“Right, good. Why won’t he tell us the murderer though? He must be scared of something. But then why tell us about Bainbridge? I don’t get that?”

Vince shrugs.

“I dunno. Maybe he’s waiting to see if we come good on our bargain before he tells us.”

“What bargain?”

“Err, yeah, I sort of told him he could go free.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“Was that wise?”

“He knows the risks.”

Howard rubs his temple. “Okay I guess. If that’s what he wants. And he didn’t say anything else? Nothing about why Lance was killed?”

Vince looks Howard straight in the eyes and shakes his head again. He hates lying to him, but he can’t tell him about Fossil’s magic man. Not yet. For a start there is no way Howard will let him go with Bobby to the cave, not in his condition. And Vince has no idea whether this magic man is a fake, a phony or just a figment of Fossil’s imagination. He wants to check it out before involving Howard in a goose chase. The Sheriff has enough to contend with already.

But aside from all that Vince wants to prove himself. Prove he’s fit to work and prove his worth. He can’t help feeling a little guilty that he’d managed to get himself caught by Bainbridge’s men so easily. That bloody Lillian White girl. If only he hadn’t let her in. How stupid a move was that?

Yes, he has to prove, not just to Howard, but to everyone that he is capable of looking after himself. Bruises and cuts aside, he has to do this.

Howard’s looking back at Vince slightly quizzically and the Deputy feels himself start to redden. Does Howard know something’s amiss?

“So how’d it go boys?”

Vince turns away from Howard at the welcome sound of Monty’s voice. “Alright we think.”

Howard pulls his gaze away from his deputy. He senses something unusual in Vince’s body language but decides to dismiss it for now. “Yes Monty, we’ve had some luck. Don’t want to tell you too much though you understand.”

“And I don’t want to hear it Sheriff. I’m quite happy being kept in the dark until you need me to know.”

“What you got there Mr. Flange?”

The actor reaches the steps to the veranda, dragging behind him a huge Hessian sack. Howard helps him up with it.

“Actually it’s a few more bits and bobs for you my lad. There’s some more shirts with high collars, a couple of hats, a holster.”

“Holster?”

Monty reaches into the sack and pulls out a black holster belt adorned with shining nickel stud work and a beautifully engraved buckle. He hands it to Vince.

“I can think of no-one more suited to wear this.”

Vince takes the belt almost fearfully and runs his fingers across the finery of the etched leather. He puts a finger through one of the bullet loops.

“Well if you’re going to be the Deputy Vince then you’ll definitely be needing a gun. It goes with the job I’m afraid.”

Vince looks up at Howard. “I can shoot you know.”

“You can?”

“Yes Howard. I’m quite good as a matter of fact.”

“Oh, right, sorry, I just assumed…”

Vince smiles. “It’s okay, I’m not offended. I don’t carry a gun because I’ve never felt the need to. Plus I don’t like them very much.”

Vince looks back at the belt and starts to wrap it around his hips, but he jerks to a stop as the muscles in his shoulder burn.

Monty steps forward. “Here, let me.”

“Thanks Monty. This is a beautiful holster. Are you sure you’re happy to part with it?”

“Oh yes my boy. My shooting days are far behind me. Besides, with things being as they are and with all that’s happened, you need to be able to defend yourself properly.”

“I’ll go sort you out a short barrel today Vince. I want you to be armed as quickly as possible.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll pick up a couple of extras too. And a rifle.”

“You don’t need to overdo it Howard.”

“On the contrary I think I do. One way or another things are going to come to a head with Bainbridge. We can’t be too careful, or too defended.”

Monty finishes doing up the holster and steps back. Howard takes a sharp intake of breath.

“Wow!”

“Do I look alright?”

“You look more than alright Vince.”

The only thing sparkling brighter than the silver studs are Vince’s eyes. He stands with a huge smile on his face, hair lapping at his cheeks in the soft breeze, his thumbs hooked through the belt. His left foot is turned slightly inward in a manner somewhere between innocent and mischievous. What Monty wouldn’t give to see Vince up on a stage under lights. Why the lad would break hearts!

Monty looks at Howard who has a smile on his face bigger than Vince’s. The two men are looking at each other with eyes so full of devotion it’s a natural reaction for Monty to start smiling too.

Smiles all around until Vince suddenly keels forward. “Aargh!”

“Vince!”

Howard and Monty both rush forward to grab him before he sinks to the ground.

“I’m alright. I’m alright.”

“Christ, you’re not alright.”

“I am, it’s…aargh!”

“Vince?”

“Yeah, ow, yeah. I’m fine, a spasm. Shit, that hurt. I’m okay. Just need to…argh…go indoors maybe?”

“Can you walk?”

“Yep.”

“I knew you were straining yourself.”

“I’ll go and get Doctor Bamshoot.”

“Thanks Monty, do you mind? I don’t want to leave him.”

“Stop fussing, I said I’m good.”

“Vince shut up and lean on me for goodness sake. And yes Monty, the Doctor please.”

“I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Monty leaves the sack on the veranda and scurries away towards the main street as quickly as his ageing legs can take him.

“Right you, inside now!”

Howard clamps his arm around Vince’s waist and practically carries the younger man back into the jailhouse and toward the bedroom cell. Bobby Fossil jumps up to his bars as they pass.

“What’s wrong with him? Is he alright?”

“No Fossil he’s not. He’s had two tonne of shit kicked out of him and was nearly lynched in front of an angry mob. Of course he’s not fucking alright!”

Vince squeezes the Sheriff’s arm. “Howard, go easy yeah. It’s not Bobby’s fault.”

“Of course it’s his fault. It’s all their fault.”

“Sheriff I’m sorry.”

“It’s a little late for apologies don’t you think. You try saying that to the corpse of Lance Parrot, see what he thinks of your fucking ‘sorry’…”

“Please Howard, leave him alone.”

“…you make me sick, all of you, thinking you can behave however you goddamn like. Well I won’t put up with it any more Fossil…”

“I need to lie down.”

“…this is it, the line in the sand. From now on I’m not taking yours or Bainbridge’s or anybody’s crap anymore you hear!”

“Ugghh.” Vince slumps heavily against Howard’s side causing the Sheriff to quickly refocus his attention.

“Shit!”

Howard scoops Vince up and rushes him through to his bed, laying him down gently. He hurriedly undoes the gun holster, pulls off Vince’s boots and loosens his shirt and pants. He scours Vince’s torso looking for any sign of change amongst the rainbow of bruises.

Vince puts a hand on his head. “Relax.”

“Where does it hurt? Tell me. Is it your chest? Can you breathe? Is it your stomach? Can you feel pain in your stomach?”

“It hurts just because it hurts. Nothing’s changed. I’m alright. Please calm down a bit yeah.”

“You will keep scaring me Vince.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“And you’re sure there’s no new pain.”

“I promise there’s no new pain. I think I was standing up too long. I’m fine now. I got a little woozy.”

“Christ sake”

“I know, I’m a bit of a shambles aren’t I?”

Howard kneels down beside the bed and strokes Vince’s hair affectionately. “Yeah you are, you’re a right goddamn mess, but at least you’re my mess.”

“Your mess. Is that right?”

“Don’t you want to be?”

Vince closes his eyes, Howard’s strokes suddenly making him feel sleepy. “Sheriff Moon, there is nothing in this world I want to be more.”

Howard’s not used to worrying so deeply about another individual. He paces back and forth along the veranda like an expectant father.

“Howard please come and sit down. You’re making me dizzy.”

Monty’s pitching back and forth in a rocking chair, one of two that had suddenly appeared among a flurry of visitors during the last couple of hours. At least Howard wouldn’t have to worry about preparing food for the next few days, Eleanor had seen to that. His cupboard is laden with bread and dried meat and liquor and fresh water. Sally Glister had been kind enough to make a few repairs to both his and Vince’s torn clothing, and Jack Tucker had dropped in some of the finest shaving soap this side of the Mississippi. Howard should be feeling more at ease than he is, but whilst Doctor Bamshoot is attending to Vince, and whilst he is banished to outside because of his constant fussing, he cannot rest.

“You’re going to wear away the wood you know.”

“I can’t help it. Why’s the Doctor taking so long? I’m going back inside to check.”

“No, leave him.”

“But what’s he doing?”

“A thorough examination I’d say.”

“Why so thorough? Do you think something’s wrong? I knew it, I knew Vince was hiding something earlier. There’s something he wasn’t telling me. He must have been in more pain than he was letting on. Oh god what if he’s seriously injured inside his body? What if it’s untreatable? I would never forgive myself.”

“For goodness sake man, calm yourself down. You spoke to Vince didn’t you? It’s not like he was unconscious was it?”

“No but…”

“No buts about it. The Doctor will be out soon enough. Now sit down!”

Howard shakes his head as he lowers himself into the chair beside his friend.

“Howard, talk to me. Why are you so uptight again?”

“I dunno. I thought I was alright but then…” Howard shrugs, “…I feel very anxious, the truth be told. It’s like the calm before the storm. Well if you can call what’s happening to Vince calm. Something’s going to happen. You know it and I know it. Oh to be a fly on the wall of Bainbridge’s offices right now.”

“Mmmm, unfortunately I have to agree with you. Dixon Bainbridge will not let this lie, especially if he starts seeing the townsfolk siding with you.”

“That’s what I’m most scared of, repercussions toward Jack and Jean Claude, or Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins, or, God help me, you and Vince.”

“You’ll worry yourself into an early grave Howard. We’re all grown-ups you know, capable of making our own decisions.”

“But most people don’t have the threat of The Piper Twins looming over their decision making do they?”

Monty lets out a sigh. “I don’t think there’s any easy answer, but only you can decide whether to sit back and wait or to be proactive. This may be about whoever makes the first move.”

“Or who doesn’t.”

“Exactly. But you’ve Vince to help you make that decision. And me of course.”

“Yeah I know. And I’m thankful for it. Still, I’ve been wondering whether I should get an outsider involved. Get in touch with a circuit court judge perhaps.”

“Have you enough evidence to present yet?”

Howard rubs his eyes. “Enough to convict Bainbridge? Nowhere near.”

“So what’s the point in contacting the court?”

“Advice.”

“Advice at the risk of jeopardising a trial later? I’m not sure about that Howard. You get a judge out here you might be opening yourself up to scrutiny too.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I just wish I knew a bit more about the law. I feel a bit out of my depth.”

“You’re the Sheriff, that’s all the law you need.”

“That’s how it used to be back in the old days. My badge was all it took then. There were none of these lies and manipulations. You warned a guy and if he took no notice it was either jail or a gunfight. Now it’s all papers and permissions and certifications. Back then you wanted a fella out of town you shot him out.”

“It may still come to that.”

“Don’t even joke about that Monty.”

“Well it’s you who wants to go off and buy half the town’s guns.”

The two men fall into a heavy silence. Howard stands and starts pacing again. He’s about to turn to Monty with a further question when suddenly the sound of the town bell peals out across Moonstone.

Monty stands too.

“What the hell?”

“I dunno.”

“When was the last time the bell was used?”

“Outside of celebration I couldn’t even tell you.”

Monty begins to descend the steps from the veranda. “I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”

As Monty’s foot touches the dirt a young boy comes racing around the corner from the direction of the main street.

“Mr. Flange, Sheriff Moon, come quick. Fire! There’s a fire!”

Monty rushes forward and stops the boy in his tracks. He grasps the lad’s shoulders. “Where’s the fire son? Where?”

Monty knows the answer before it leaves the boy’s lips.

“The theatre Mr. Flange. It’s your theatre.”

Monty straightens up and turns back to Howard, his face completely drained of colour. Howard rushes down the steps and grabs the boy’s shirt front.

“Are you sure it’s the theatre?”

The young lad looks up fearfully into the Sheriff’s eyes. “Yes Sheriff Sir. It’s the theatre alright. I saw the flames myself.”

Howard loosens his grip on the boy’s shirt and instead puts his hand on Monty’s shoulder.

“O Christ. Monty I’m so sorry.”

“We need to go Howard, we need to go now. We can put it out. We must put it out, but we must go now.” Monty shakes off Howard’s hand and starts running towards his home, the boy running alongside him.

Howard pauses for a moment to look back at the jailhouse. Is this some sort of ruse? A trap? A way to split them all up? He looks back to Monty as his friend rounds the corner and disappears from view. He looks back again to the jailhouse.

“Vince.”

He says his Deputy’s name out loud as if somehow Vince might hear him and give him permission to go. He has to go, he knows that. Monty needs him. And Vince is with the Doctor, he’s hardly alone. One might say he is in the best possible hands. But still Howard senses something not quite right with the whole thing. His nerves coil inside his stomach.

“I’ll be back soon Vince,” he says to nobody as he turns and runs after Monty. He really has no choice.

Howard and Monty can smell the blaze before they see it. Halfway along the street their noses pick up the smell and it quickens their pace.

Fire. The one thing guaranteed to assault all five senses at once. But sight in particular, oh the sight that now presents itself to Monty as he struggles breathlessly around the final bend. His precious theatre is literally glowing orange as flames try to make good their escape through windows and the weaker parts of the roof. Monty pushes through the crowd of people, through the buckets and the hands and the sloshing of water and makes straight for the front door, but Howard grabs him just in time.

“No Monty!”

“But my theatre!”

“You can’t go in there. You won’t come out.”

Howard tries to pull Monty back from the doorway, but the actor shows a surprising amount of strength and pushes him away. He’s bright red from the exertion of running, and there are huge tears running down his cheeks leaving marks in the soot that’s already forming there. His wispy grey hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat. But instead of charging through the door Monty drops to his knees where he stands, his cane slipping from his hands in the process. From his mouth comes a desperate wail. The Sheriff grabs the actor again, firmer this time.

“Please Monty. You have to come away.”

From somewhere in the crowd Lucien Hopkins arrives at Howard’s side and both men manage to drag Monty to his feet and away from the heat of the blaze. Eleanor joins them and takes Monty by the arm.

“Here pet, step back. The men will put it out you’ll see. Come over here with me.”

Monty allows himself to be led, silent now and clearly in shock. Howard swallows down a sob of his own and turns his hands instead to joining the bucket bearers who are relentlessly throwing water onto the flames. From somewhere inside comes a loud crash as timber gives way. Logically Howard knows there’s little hope for the old building, but maybe, just maybe he can save some of Monty’s possessions.

He jumps out of the line and sprints down the side of the building. He can hear Lucien yelling after him but he ignores it. At the far end of the side wall he knows there’s another door. Howard puts his hand upon it and, when feeling no heat from inside, he slowly pushes it open and steps in. He’s entering what used to be a reception room before Monty cleared it out. It’s empty now save for a couple of old billboards advertising plays long since forgotten. From this room there’s a short corridor which leads to the old dressing rooms, rooms which have since become Monty’s private quarters. He hurries along to the first room and looks about him. Nothing valuable here. Howard knows he needs to go right to the back of the building, to Monty’s bedroom, in order to save anything of importance.

Another loud crack and bang reverberates around the building and the faint smell of smoke drifts to Howard’s nostrils. The fire must be making its way to the back of the building also.

Spurred on Howard dashes to the end of the corridor and turns right at a bend that leads directly to the door of Monty’s bedroom. He takes half a second to smile at the ‘Star’ sign still painted on the outside before he opens it and rushes in. He looks around him again, this time overwhelmed by how much stuff Monty has managed to pack into the relatively small space. He has no time to be too choosy.

The Sheriff picks up what looks like a juggler’s baton from the side dresser and smashes out Monty’s bedroom window before grabbing handfuls of clothes and books and jewellery and ornaments and whatever else his hands meet with, and chucking them unceremoniously through the opening. He hears some things smash but he’s not time to worry about that now, the smell of smoke has reached him again. The fire must be licking at the door that separates the reception room from the main auditorium. He grabs more clothing, a framed picture, a harmonica, a pile of banded papers, a parasol, literally anything he can put his fingers around, and he keeps on throwing them outside.

A sudden roar and Howard concludes that the fire is through the door. The building will not be saved now.

The Sheriff spins on the spot trying to work out if there’s anything more of value when his eyes settle on a small silver jewellery box on a side-table. He grabs it but something makes him pause before he lobs it out of the window. He shakes it and there’s a responding soft jangle. His curiosity peaking he lifts the lid.

A key. Quite an ordinary looking key by all accounts, fairly small and without adornment. Howard picks it out of the box and turns it in his fingers. Why would Monty have a key kept in a velvet lined silver box? He frowns, returns the key, closes the lid and pockets it. Something tells him it’s too important to throw out of the window with the other paraphernalia.

Howard looks around himself once more as smoke starts to appear from along the corridor. His eyes start to water immediately and he rushes forward to close the door against it. He grabs one final handful of items from the desk drawer, pulls a chair up to the window and jumps through, narrowly avoiding landing on top of a Chinese vase, but managing to keep his balance. Now outside he begins to push everything away from the building, loosely sorting the items into corresponding piles as he goes.

“Sheriff! Sheriff!”

Lucien’s voice. Howard suddenly realises they must think him inside. He pushes all the items an extra couple of metres away from the back of the theatre and circles around the flank, keeping as far away from the wall as he can. He can feel the heat radiating off of it and he knows that once the back rooms submit to the flames then the roof will collapse also. He does not want to be alongside the theatre when that happens.

“Sheriff!”

“Here Lucien.”

“Sheriff!”

“Here, I’m here.” Howard springs out from the side of the building as an enormous crash sends everybody fleeing backwards. Flames shoot upwards through the gulping crater that now sits in the middle of the theatre, a crater so large it’s as if hell itself has opened its front gate.

Lucien trots over to Howard’s side. “Sheriff are you okay?”

“Yes I’m fine. Where’s Monty?”

“He’s still with my wife Sheriff, over by the station. He’s pretty quiet but Doctor Bamshoot is with him now so…”

“Doctor Bamshoot?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the Doctor doing here?”

“Well he’s…um he’s….what do you mean?”

“The Doctor, what the hell’s he doing here Lucien?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Howard grasps Lucien’s shoulders and shakes the startled man, “He’s not supposed to be here! Why is he here?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure. I…”

But Howard doesn’t wait for Lucien to answer. Instead he shoves his way through the still thick crowd and sprints full pelt back along the main street.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

Howard flies around the turn to the jailhouse. The door is closed. He lengthens his gait and takes the steps in one bound, skids along the veranda and bursts into the room.

“Vince!”

Howard darts to the back. The door to Bobby Fossil’s cell is wide open, the cell itself clearly unoccupied. With adrenaline coursing through him Howard rips through the drape covering his own bedroom cell doorway and collapses against the side of his cot bed.

It’s empty.

“Oh god. Oh god. Please no, please Vince no.”

Howard pulls back the dividing curtain but Vince is not in the other bed either. He turns back to his own. The sheet is rumpled where Vince had lain. Howard puts his palm upon it. Still warm. He grabs the pillow and holds it to his face, tears threatening to stream forth as the adrenalin racing around his body is replaced by dread and despair. He starts rocking, his face buried in the pillow, the smell of Vince edging out the remaining stench of the fire.

“No Vince, don’t you dare do this to me again. Don’t you dare. DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!”

The first thing Vince becomes aware of is the smell. It’s all at once musty and metallic and old. Yes, the smell of age. But there are traces of other things, the comforting smell of spices, an aroma akin to boiling rice and something else. Something familiar, and although slightly fetid not altogether unpleasant. It’s something that reminds him of being a happy child.

Vince’s eyelashes flutter as he tries to drag himself into full consciousness. His body feels stiff and achy and he wonders briefly if he’s fainted. But no, this definitely isn’t the jailhouse, and he’s pretty sure he’s standing up. He takes a deep breath and then forces his eyes properly open. Wherever he is it’s dimly lit. He looks about himself, willing the shapes in the room to take form for him. He notices a huge pot hanging above an open flame in a nearby nook. He can make out the smoke spiraling upwards to a hole in the ceiling. No, not a hole, a gap, a crack. And not a ceiling, more like smooth rock. Rock? He squints downwards and can make out the greyish stone appearance of the floor. He tries to press his toes against the hard surface and suddenly realises he can’t. He squirms again but something’s keeping his feet pinned to the spot. Is that rope around his ankles? His brain jolts to alert and a slight panic starts to rise inside of him. Is he tied up? He tries to take a step forward but he cannot move at all. Instead he is met with the jangling sound of chains. He looks upwards only to see that his arms are pulled above his head, his wrists encased in two heavy iron cuffs. He tugs against the chains but they hold firm. The panic burns his throat.

As he looks around him the lines and shades slowly start to make some sort of sense. A barrel, a table, a bench, a bed, a small horse. He shakes his head in surprise. Of course, that smell, the unmistakable smell of horse. The nag looks up at him, feigns some level of interest and then returns to its bucket to munch noisily on whatever’s inside. Vince blinks multiple times. Where the hell is he? He tugs again at the chains, harder still, pulling and twisting and grunting with effort.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you. You’ll chafe your skin.”

Vince freezes, his huge blue eyes projecting his anxiety. He manages a “Whaaat?”

“I said you’ll chafe your skin.”

Vince screws his eyes trying to focus on the area from where the voice is carrying. There’s a hint of a shape at the outer reaches of the shadow. Vince swallows his fear. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my home.”

The voice that answers is anything but threatening, and Vince feels his trepidation ease slightly. In fact he thinks the voice is soft and quite calming. Although he cannot pinpoint the dialect he can detect a hint of a lisp, a slight impediment that only adds to the voice’s enfolding quality.

As Vince continues to stare into the gloom a small figure slowly comes towards him. He thinks at first it must be a child, but a child doesn’t marry with the voice. And what’s wrong with their head? It seems misshapen and huge. Vince mentally prepares himself to come face to face with some sort of hideous monstrosity, but when the figure finally steps into a patch of light revealed is a relatively small, pale-skinned man with a large gathering of cloth upon his crown. He’s dressed in robes of the most exotic style Vince has ever seen. The man stands still, a pottery pipe in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. He looks Vince up and down before smiling weakly at the Deputy, taking a puff on his pipe and stepping back out of the light again.

“But who are you?”

Vince loses sight of the figure in the darkness. He listens really hard but cannot make out any sign of movement. He asks again, “Who are you?” and then jumps when the figure suddenly appears right alongside him and says matter-of-factly,

“I’m Naboo, that’s who.”

Running. Was he ever going to stop running? He’d been running from his conscience for what seemed an eternity, running from his responsibilities, his guilt, and his memories. And just four days ago his life had been transformed into something more complete and he’d allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could stop running now.

But it seems to give up the running of the restless mind one must take up true physical running in the actual world. Proper, real ground-pounding running, the soggy-armpits, slick hair, red-faced and lungs bursting through chest kind of running. Running into danger, running out of it, running to catch and now desperately running to find what he had so foolishly lost.

Vince!

Howard had already checked in at Bobby Fossil’s living quarters behind the bank but there was nothing to suggest either man had been there. So instead he was running again now, back along the main street, past the smoldering theatre, and heading down towards the small train station and hopefully towards Monty and Doctor Bamshoot.

He spots Eleanor first and then Monty seated on a bench with the Doctor crouching in front of him. There seems to be a fairly heated exchange going on between the three of them but Howard can’t make out the full gist of it. As he nears the trio and slows he tries to calm his brain a little. In his urgency to find Vince he mustn’t forget that his best friend has also lost something he loves.

“Sheriff Moon, my goodness where have you been? We’ve all been worried sick about you. Lucien said you’d been inside the building but that you’d then run off like a thing possessed.”

Howard takes a moment before replying, keen to level out his breathing.

“I’m sorry if I worried you Mrs. Hopkins.”

“Well you should see the state of yourself Sheriff. You look like you’ve rolled around in a coal bucket.”

Howard gives her a forced smile and moves towards the two men. The Doctor stands as the Sheriff approaches.

“Mister Flange has had quite a shock Sheriff, but he’s a little recovered now.”

Howard puts a hand on Monty’s shoulder and gives it an affectionate squeeze before turning back to the Doctor. “Where’s Vince?”

Doctor Bamshoot raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Deputy Noir isn’t in the jailhouse. Neither is Mr. Fossil. You were the last one with them Doctor. In fact I left you with them. So where are they?”

The Doctor takes a step towards Howard with his palms raised.

“I promise you Sheriff I left Deputy Noir dozing on the bed. As to Mr. Fossil I’ve no idea, I didn’t look in on him. I’d heard the town bell start up at least ten minutes before I left the jailhouse so I knew something bad must be happening. I came straight here and Eleanor rushed me over to help with Mr. Flange.”

Howard stares directly into the Doctor’s eyes.

“Are you telling me the truth Doctor?”

The Doctor stares right back. “Quite frankly Sheriff I am more than a little mortified that you would question me so. I’ve known you for many years. I thought we had a decent amount of mutual respect between us, and equally thought of us both as men of our word.”

Howard nods and softens his stare.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, but Vince isn’t in his bed now.”

The Doctor nods back. “Deputy Noir was in a fair amount of pain when I attended him, but he is in no way bed-bound Sheriff. Maybe he simply stepped out for some reason.”

“No, that isn’t it. I’d have seen him by now and as I say Bobby Fossil’s missing too.”

Monty puts his hand on Howard’s arm. “Howard, do you think Bainbridge has him?”

Howard looks down at his friend and then back at the faces of Mrs. Hopkins and the Doctor. “Apologies but would you two mind if I have a private conversation with Monty here?”

Eleanor gathers up her shawl and bag. “Of course not Sheriff.”

She puts her hand on top of Monty’s. “The offer still stands Mr. Flange. You are welcome to come and stay with me and Lucien for a bit, until, well you know love…”

Monty taps her hand back. “Thank you Mrs. Hopkins. I’m touched by your generosity and will certainly take you up on that offer of a good meal later. Thank you.”

The Doctor steps away alongside Eleanor. “Nothing strenuous Mr. Flange you hear. I’m going back up to the theatre to see if I can help in any way. You probably need to come along when you’re ready.”

Monty nods. “Thank you Doctor and yes, I’ll be along shortly.”

Howard sits down beside his friend. “What were you three discussing when I arrived?”

“Oh they’re just worried about me I guess. I think they reckon this old man isn’t up to hanging about with the likes of you and Vince.”

“They were warning you to distance yourself from all this.”

“In so many words.”

“They’re right you know.”

“Yes, they probably are, but what’s right and what’s required aren’t always the same thing.”

Howard pats Monty on the leg. “I’m sorry about your theatre.”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe he did that to you.”

“Who Bainbridge?”

“Yeah.”

“There won’t be any proof will there?”

“I doubt it but we’ll go through there with a fine tooth-comb Monty. If there’s evidence to be found I’ll find it.”

“But you have more important things to do Howard. You’ve got to find Vince.”

Howard looks down at his hands. “I already did that once? I found him and I rescued him. How the hell could I have been so stupid to have let him go again?”

“Don’t be melodramatic Howard, that’s my job.”

Howard smiles feebly. “I keep on letting him down.”

“You’ve not let him down.”

“I’ve let you down.”

“You’ve done nothing of the sort, and Lucien told me how you risked the flames to save some of my things. Hardly the actions of a weak man Howard.”

“If I’d had acted earlier though…”

“Then I suspect the outcome would have been the same, or worse. What if I’d been sleeping in there?”

“Doesn’t bear thinking about.”

“Exactly.”

“But I don’t know where to start looking for him.”

“You start in the Salty Bullet that’s where. You go and get Bainbridge and you ask him.”

“I can’t storm in there. And anyway he’ll just deny it.”

Monty pulls at Howard to get the bigger man to face him. He puts his hands on Howard’s arms and forces the Sheriff to look him in the eyes. Howard notices for the first time the deep lines that dissect the ageing actor’s face and it suddenly hits home just how mentally and physically exhausted Monty must be.

“The Sheriff Moon I know is a man of action Howard, not a man of indecision and doubt. There is no discussion to be had, you’ve got to go in there and ask your questions. You’ve simply got to in order to get him back.”

“But what if he’s already…” Howard can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Are you going to ask me ‘what if he’s already dead’? Was that what you were going to say?”

“Well what am I supposed to think?”

“Not that!”

“If it was only Vince gone then maybe… but Fossil’s gone too and… it looks bad Monty, really bad.”

Howard starts to turn away, but Monty grabs his chin and pulls him back to face him.

“Do you feel that he’s dead?”

“What?”

“Do you feel it, inside of you, here?” Monty puts his forefinger to Howard’s heart. The Sheriff shivers a little at the touch.

“I want to believe he’s alive, really I do.”

“I’m not asking what you believe Howard, I’m asking what you feel.”

“Well then no Monty, I don’t feel that he’s dead.”

“Good, you cling to that then and you go get him. Go now whilst you’ve still time.”

“Who?”

“Naboo.”

“Naboo!”

“What is it about humans that they must repeat everything that’s said to them?”

“Humans?”

Naboo sighs loudly and scuffles off back into the darkness.

“Hang on a minute where you going? Why’ve you got me strung up like this?”

“It’s for your own good.”

“What?”

“To keep you safe.”

“How’s tying me to your wall by my wrists and ankles keeping me safe?”

“You’ll see.”

Naboo comes back into the light this time carrying a bowl. He is stirring it slowly with the wooden spoon. He moves to about a metre in front of Vince and stands there, stirring and staring and staring and stirring.

Vince is becoming irritated. “Let me down”

“No.”

“Let me down goddamn it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I need to feed you this.” Naboo holds up the bowl.

“Like hell you are!”

Naboo tuts and moves again out of the light. Vince struggles at his bonds. If he can get one hand free.

“I told you not to do that.”

“What do you care?” Vince carries on struggling.

“I care more than you realise Vince Noir.”

Vince stops moving. “You know my name?”

“Of course.”

“How?”

“I know many things. Your name is one of them.”

“Are you a mind reader?”

“No, I saw your band Clockwork Guns recently. You were very good.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Vince furrows his brow. “You’re Bobby Fossil’s magic man aren’t you?”

“I’m nobody’s man, but yes, I am magic. I’m a Shaman actually, a Shaman simply passing through this world on the way to the next, riding upon the crests of dreams and unfulfilled promises.”

“That’s a bit enigmatic don’t you think?”

“I am a shaman, it’s my job to be enigmatic.”

“Ahuh, right.”

“I am.”

“A shaman! Really?”

“Yes. Why do you doubt me?”

“I dunno, you don’t actually exist do you?”

“Of course we do.”

“So if you’re a shaman and you’re all magical and stuff what are you doing hanging around Moonstone? And why live here in what I can only assume is a cave.”

“I told you this is my home.”

“It’s still a cave.”

“I happen to like it here.”

Vince frowns again. This is getting him nowhere. “Look, I’m going to make an assessment. You’re a magic man living in a cave in the desert. And for some unknown reason you’re caught up with Dixon Bainbridge who’s got you keeping me here prisoner until he decides what to do with me. I don’t know how he snatched me from the jailhouse but clearly he did, and now he’s got you playing at being my prison guard and feeding me gruel so I don’t die on you both. Is that right?”

Naboo keeps stirring. “No.”

“You telling me you don’t work for Bainbridge?”

“Of course I don’t work for Mayor Bainbridge. I already told you I’m nobody’s man.”

“Well then what the hell is going on here because I’ll be damned if I can make head or tail of it?”

Naboo drags a small stool over to in front of Vince. He sits himself down upon it still moving the spoon in large circles around the dish.

Vince glares at him waiting for an answer.

“You humans are so needy. You’re always looking for answers. Always wanting more. You think you’re different Vince Noir but you’re not. You need the same as anybody.”

“Did I say I was different?”

“No, but you think you are. You think of yourself as invincible, as untouchable, but you’re not. You’re as fallible as anyone.”

“I do what I think I should do. I do what I think is the right thing to do.”

“Like loving Howard Moon?”

Vince gapes in astonishment. “What? How do you know about that?”

“I told you I know many things.”

“But you can’t know that. No-one knows that.”

“It’s written all over your heart Vince.”

Vince takes a glance down towards his chest glad to see that his shirt is still done up. He’s never felt more confused. “Since when is loving someone wrong?”

“It’s not, it never is, but it’s going to get you killed.”

“What? I’m sorry but I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. Are you saying that I have to stop loving Howard because it’s going to get me killed?”

“That love will both save you and kill you.”

“No way. No bloody way! I don’t believe in fate.”

“You think ending up on that mail wagon was anything else?”

“But how do you know about..?” Naboo arches an eyebrow. “That was dumb luck is all. It wasn’t fate.”

“You were always meant to be here Vince. You were always meant to meet Howard. Didn’t you feel it as soon as you saw him, as soon as you spoke to him, as soon as you touched?”

Vince recalls with a flash the lightning bolt that passed through them the first time his hand had accidentally brushed against Howard’s.

“I dunno, I…”

“Admit it, you know there’s something deeper going on here. But knowing it and accepting it are not going to help you save yourself.”

“So what are my options then? Leave? Should I leave?”

“You can’t, you are destined to be here I told you.”

“So I should make Howard leave?”

“That won’t work either.”

“So what then?”

Naboo holds up the bowl. “First you need to eat this.”

---

[nextpage title=”Away”]

Away

Howard splashes his face with water. “Just go in and ask the question. You’re The Sheriff, you’ve every right to go in and ask the question.” He splashes his face again. “Keep it simple and brief. There’s no need to get angry, not yet. Yes, keep it simple.”

Howard straightens up and adjusts his shirt collar in the dirty mirror in the station rest room. He combs his wet fingers through his hair flattening down the few curls that always insist on raising themselves up from behind his ears. He fiddles with his badge.

“Bainbridge, where’s Vince?” No, too accusatory. “Mayor Bainbridge, please where is Vince?” No, too apologetic. “Bainbridge, Vince is missing. Do you know where he is?”

“I take it your Deputy is missing.”

Howard instinctively puts his hand to his gun as the all too familiar voice booms out from behind him.

“First tell me how I got here.”

“I brought you here.”

“How?”

“On my carpet.”

Vince shakes his head in misunderstanding. “Your carpet?”

Naboo points to a rolled up rug leaning up against his bed. “It flies.”

“Pull the other one.”

Naboo shrugs his shoulders. “Believe what you like.”

“But why bring me here?”

“You were about to die Vince but it’s not your time yet. I had no choice.”

Vince shakes his head even more. “Please, you have to explain it better than that.”

Naboo fidgets a little on his stool before putting the bowl on the ground. He puts his hands out in front of him.

“Imagine this is you.” He shakes his left fist, “And this is Howard,” he shakes his right.

“Okay.”

Naboo links his fingers together. “And this is you now.”

Vince blushes slightly at the analogy.

With fingers still linked together Naboo raises a digit and drops it back. He raises another one and drops that back. “You and Howard are the constant but there are all these things pulling at you to try and tear you apart. Other people, other events, your own misgivings.”

“But that could be said of any partnership.”

“No Vince, you and Howard are different.”

“How?”

“Because you are spiritually pure and eternally bound soul-mates. You are meant to be together for always and forever. When outer forces try and separate you the consequences are greater than with others. The universe feels the rift.”

“But we’ve only known each other for four days.”

“No Vince, think about it. You’ve known about Howard Moon much of your life. All those stories you heard.”

“But he didn’t know about me.”

“Again that’s incorrect Vince. In the depth of Howard’s soul, in the well of his heart and the inner workings of his mind Howard Moon has been waiting for you this entire time.”

Vince closes his eyes in disbelief.

Naboo continues. “Recently though the natural order of things has been off kilter. The balance of the spiritual cosmos has been tipping slightly to the left. That’s why I’m here. The Board of Shamen worked out that it was you Vince, well you and Howard. For some reason your predestination has started to unravel. We couldn’t work out why and we still don’t know, so I’ve been sent to Moonstone by the Board to help steer you, to help guide your choices and present you with opportunity. To help protect you and put you back on the correct path.”

Vince reopens his eyes.

“So we’re puppets to you is that it? What, are you a god as well as a shaman?”

“Anything but. Unlike a god I make no rules and demand no worship. Neither can I intervene completely, I can only suggest.”

“And is it working this intervention of yours? Is the balance coming back?”

“Not exactly no. I thought it was but there’s something I’m still missing. Something that still keeps tripping us all up.”

“Is that why I’m here then?”

“Yes. Something went astray today, something I hadn’t foreseen. I had to step in because to not do so would mean your untimely death.”

“By whose hand?”

Naboo shuffles his stool a little closer to Vince. “Tell me Deputy, have you worked out who killed Lance Parrot yet?”

“Bainbridge.”

“Moon.”

“I was about to come and find you.”

“To ask if I had anything to do with the disappearance of your Deputy it seems.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Not at all?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Howard breathes in deeply through his nose before exhaling noisily.

“What about Fossil?”

“You’ve lost him too Moon? How very careless of you.”

“Have you taken Bobby Fossil?”

“Fossil works for me.”

“No, Fossil works for the bank.”

“And the bank works for me.”

“It’s meant to work for the town.”

“Semantics.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“Have you taken him?”

“If you mean Fossil then he’s quite safe.”

“You took him from the jail cell?”

“Actually no, he wasn’t in the cell.”

“But you were at my jail. Why were you at my jail?”

“I came to see how my friend was faring. I really didn’t think he would be doing too well under lock and key and it seems I was right. When I got there he was wandering about your veranda like a lost puppy. I merely guided him home.”

“He wasn’t at his home.”

“My home.”

“Where you can keep an eye on him.”

“Where I can look after him. Bobby’s gone through quite a traumatic time you know, what with being arrested and falsely accused of murder and such. He needs my support.”

“He needs nothing less.”

“So cynical Sheriff.”

“I’d like to see him.”

“Who?”

“Fossil.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible right now. Bobby’s, how should I say, otherwise engaged.”

“Bainbridge if you’ve…”

“If I’ve what? If I’ve murdered him, slaughtered him, cut his throat and left him to die by the railroad. Is that what you were going to say? You’re so goddamn predictable Moon.”

“That’s because you’re so goddamn malicious you son-of-a-bitch.”

“Sticks and stones Sheriff.”

Howard shakes with anger. “I swear Bainbridge, if you’ve harmed Vince or done anything to Bobby!”

“There you go again, always swearing this, that and the other. I told you Bobby is fine and as for your precious Deputy, well I haven’t seen him or his stupid hair since yesterday. When I got to the jailhouse it was empty, aside from Fossil meandering about outside. I assumed you were both helping fight that terrible fire that broke out at the theatre. What a shame that is.”

Howard grunts. The glint in the Mayor’s eye tells him that he knows all about ‘that terrible fire’, but the bit about Vince, about him not knowing where he is, Howard actually believes him about that. Bainbridge wouldn’t come out and say the jailhouse was empty to cover his tracks. No, if he’d taken Vince then he’d play with Howard, drop him clues and vindictive asides. It wasn’t his style to be so blunt.

Howard turns back around to face the mirror. “Okay.”

“Okay. Is that it?”

“Bainbridge if you say you don’t have Vince then I guess you don’t have Vince. I dunno, maybe he skipped town.”

“Hmm maybe.”

Howard catches Dixon’s eyes in the mirror. “What do you mean maybe?”

“Oh nothing.”

The men glare at each other before the Mayor finally takes a step backwards. “Well if I can be of any further assistance you know where to find me Sheriff.”

“I certainly do Mayor, and don’t you worry, if I need to I will definitely come get you.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

“Good day Sheriff.” The Mayor sweeps out of the restroom.

Howard stands in front of the mirror for a good few minutes staring at his reflection, hands gripping the sides of the cabinet below, knuckles white and eyes glazed cold as the adrenalin starts to ebb and his fears start to return.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Dixon Bainbridge’s rooms above The Salty Bullet are a confusing maze of boudoirs and offices and adjoining doors designed to make any visitor feel uncomfortable and disoriented. They are also a very effective means of hiding secrets and other things away from prying lawmens’ eyes. It is to one of these things the Mayor hurries now, brushing aside the attentions of a scantily clad woman on the way, a woman he vaguely remembers is called Candy or Sandy or Brandy. It didn’t really matter, these women are a dime-a-dozen to him.

He walks through his office and into a less formal, richly embellished room, a place where meetings are conducted with a quality brandy and a cigar. He continues over to the corner and folds aside a red velvet drape to reveal yet another door. Reaching into his pocket he removes a small bunch of keys and slips one of them into the keyhole.

The room he enters is of stark contrast to its neighbour. For a start there’s no window, just a metal gridded hole in the roof that lets in light but little air. As a result the room is stuffy and rather unpleasant on the nose.

In the centre of the room is a wooden table about the length of a man and not much wider. Four leather straps are nailed to each corner and reddish-brown stains scar the surface like something from the history books on Tudor torture techniques. Bainbridge did think that King Henry the Eighth was one of the greatest men to have ever lived, a man who took no shit and demanded the respect and loyalty of everyone around him. Nobody messed with Henry, nobody dared.

There are more straps on the far wall, but they’re currently unoccupied too. The bench on the right hand side however houses a very sorry looking Bobby Fossil. The bank manager leaps to his feet as soon as Dixon enters.

“Mayor Bainbridge sir, please sir, I didn’t tell them anything, well only that I had the knife but they knew that already, but they don’t have it, I haven’t given it to them yet, I can deny saying it, I’ll give it to you, please Mayor Bainbridge, please, I’ll take it to you…”

Bainbridge knees Bobby once in the privates and he drops like a bag of stones, writhing about on the floor. The Mayor leans over him and grabs his collar, hoisting him back to standing and pulling his face an inch away from his own.

“Now you listen to me you sniveling sack of shit, I couldn’t give a toss about the knife. All that proves is that you’re a fucking imbecile. You will tell me where you’ve hidden it, but right now I want you to tell me something else. I want you to tell me what happened at the jailhouse before I found you.”

“I told you I didn’t say anything.”

“Not what you said fool, what happened. Why weren’t you in a cell?”

“The Deputy let me out.”

“Of your cell.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Bobby hesitates before answering. “He wanted me to take him somewhere.”

“Where?”

“To see your magic man.”

“My magic man? What the fuck? How the hell does he know about my magic man?”

Bainbridge twists Fossil’s shirt collar tighter. “He made me tell him. He said he’d let me go if I told him. I’m sorry Mr. Bainbridge, I didn’t know what to do. He kept asking who killed Mr. Parrot and I panicked because I didn’t want to tell him that. I knew you’d be cross at that so I told him something else instead.”

“You fucking idiot.”

Bainbridge raises his fist as if to pound it into Fossil’s face, but he stops himself. As much as he wants to smash something he doesn’t want Fossil unconscious. He lowers his fist and shakes the bank manager hard instead.

“What happened to the Deputy?”

“I dunno.”

“Think man.”

“Really I dunno. One minute he was undoing the cell door, the next there’s a swooshing sound and a strange smell and a bright light. And then I woke up outside.”

“A smell, what kind of smell?”

“Umm like flowers, or like how the ground smells when it rains.”

“Anything else?”

“A sound. A tune I think. Pipes, a tune on pipes. A little melody. It went like this ‘ooh-la-la-la-le-la-le-la-le’. It was kind of pretty actually.”

Bainbridge smiles. “Definitely pipes you say?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t see the Deputy again after that?”

“No Mayor Bainbridge sir.”

“What about Sheriff Moon? Does he know about the magic man too?”

Fossil shakes his head. “No. The Deputy was very clear on that. He didn’t want me to tell him.”

“Didn’t he now?”

The smile on Bainbridge’s face spreads into an evil looking grin.

“Well that’s interesting isn’t it? I wonder why that is?”

“I’m not sure if he really believed me.”

“Well believing you is hard at the best of times Fossil.”

Dixon lets go of his hold on Fossil’s collar and starts pacing the room. Bobby waits, nervously wringing the front of his shirt.

“Do you remember Fossil the first time we saw the magic man out in the desert?”

“Yes, we thought he’d got lost from a circus the way he was dressed. He was picking the flowers off a cactus and I tried to help him but got a thorn lodged in my ear flappy bit.”

“Yes, yes, and he helped you pull it out but you were in a right state, all panicking and rolling about.”

“It hurt. I thought my ear had come off.”

“Do you remember what he did Fossil?”

“He played me a song and I felt all happy and calm and sleepy.”

“A song on his…”

“On his little wooden pipes and he… oh…”

The men look directly at each other as the coin finally drops in Bobby’s brain.

“That’s right, a little set of wooden pipes that lulled you into a sleep so that I could get you on the damn horse and back here.”

“So the magic man was at the jailhouse. But why?”

“I’ve no idea, but I’ve got a feeling that if I find the magic man then I’ll find our missing Deputy too.”

“And then what Mister Mayor Sir?”

“Then Fossil I get rid of the meddlesome Sheriff and his fancy-boy sidekick once and for all.”

Vince is slumping against his chains. “Whatzinthaa?”

Naboo lowers the pipe from Vince’s mouth. “Just an herb to make you relax a bit.”

“Izvereegood.”

“Yeah. Are you ready?”

Vince gives Naboo a big sloppy sort of grin.

“Yessssiirr”

“Well you better be ‘cause this is going to hurt. Now open your mouth.”

Vince opens his mouth as wide as he can, giggling the whole time.

“For pity’s sake stop laughing or else you’ll choke.”

Vince snaps his mouth shut again and looks at Naboo with all the innocence he can muster. “Soz. Meisrightnow.”

“Concentrate Vince and remember what I told you. You got to try not to fight it yeah. Your body will want to but you’ve got to let it in, you’ve got to let it do its thing.”

“I will try, will I, I…”

“Open your mouth then.”

“Nabuuuu.”

“Yeah?”

“Franks.”

Naboo smiles at Vince and puts a large dollop of a greenish-grey goo onto the end of the spoon before raising it to the Deputy’s lips. “You won’t be thanking me in a minute Vince.”

Sheriff Moon doesn’t really have a plan so he decides to watch the comings and goings at The Salty Bullet for a bit. He knows Bainbridge has Fossil holed up inside somewhere but knowing isn’t enough. Never has he felt more impotent.

He’d already been back to the jailhouse and scoured every inch of the floor and wall and ceiling for any clue as to what had happened, but the only thing he’d found was a slight powdery substance near the cells. It looked a little like gunpowder, but it was finer and had no taste. There was also a faint lingering smell, something almost floral, but Howard assumed that had been something the Doctor had used on Vince’s injuries. Other than that he’d drawn a blank.

So Howard is sitting now outside the barber shop watching the front of the saloon. If anything he feels sort of numb. Vince is missing and there is absolutely nothing he can do about it. Well he can try raiding every home to see if someone has him, but he can’t see that being a plausible solution to the mystery. And he doesn’t believe for one minute that Vince has run out on him, not with the argument the young man had put up for staying. Besides the train isn’t due until the next morning and all horses are accounted for. Bainbridge doesn’t have him, he is sure of that, and nobody in town remembers seeing Vince after the hanging incident. Even then most hadn’t seen him properly, what with it being dark and him spending most of the time on the ground unconscious. In asking around though Howard had quickly realised that Vince had become the most spoken name on people’s lips. He was a person they felt they knew but had never met. Eleanor and Lucien had told him that they were being bombarded with questions all the time like “Who is he?,” “Where does he come from?” and “Is he the murdering type?” And once Eleanor gave a resounding “No, definitely not!” as an answer to that one the next question the women tended to ask is “So, is he married?”

But all in all none of this was helping Howard establish the whereabouts of Vince.

Jean Claude steps out of the barbers and hands Howard a glass.

“Here Sheriff, to take the edge off.”

“Thanks JC.”

“No problem. You know I don’t mind you sitting here but it’ll be dark soon. Are you going to stay here all night?”

“I don’t know where else to go.”

“Where’s Monty?”

“With Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins. They’re spoiling him a little I think.”

“Good, he’s had quite a shock.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ve still no idea where Deputy Noir might be?”

“None at all.”

“But you think the Mayor does?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure. Maybe not.”

“I wish I could help more.”

Howard raises his glass. “This is help, thanks.”

“Well there’s more of that so if you fancy coming in at any point.”

“Cheers.”

As Jean Claude re-enters the barbers the tall flame-haired figure of Mr. White exits the saloon. He turns to go right but then stops, shakes his head as if reprimanding himself and instead turns left.

Howard doesn’t call out to him. Instead he backs up into the shadows and watches. Mr. White walks past with his head down and doesn’t see him. He walks right to the end of the street and then turns as if approaching the jailhouse.

Suddenly Howard has an idea.

It takes exactly two minutes and thirty-eight seconds for Naboo’s special goop to start working its way through Vince’s system and exactly two minutes and thirty-nine seconds before Vince starts screaming.

Naboo had only seen the effects of Babolisk Oil once before on his home planet of Xooberon. That had been when the King’s daughter had fallen from her balcony and the King had instructed the shamen to use any means possible to heal her. It had been Kirk who’d suggested the oil and Dennis who’d mixed it into the Princess’ soup. It hadn’t been a pretty sight back then either, and the King and Dennis had nearly gotten into a sword-fight over it. But it had worked and that’s what had mattered in the end.

Still seeing it at work again now Naboo thought maybe he should have just let Vince’s body be. It would have healed itself eventually, there was after all no major damage. But Naboo had chosen the oil because he simply didn’t have the time. Vince was never meant to have gotten himself so damaged in the first place, and being as injured as he was made him too vulnerable and too slow. Plus it made Howard an over-protective jumble of nerves. No, the time of reckoning was close, and if Naboo was going to fix things he at least needed both his main players in top-notch working order.

Vince screams again and strains against the chains. His eyes are screwed up tight in agony and he’s foaming slightly at the mouth, around the cloth Naboo had placed there to stop him from biting his tongue. Sweat is pouring off of him and there’s a funny sort of tinge to his skin. As awful as the sight of Vince is though Naboo smiles. The oil is working.

Howard spots Ralfe White moving alongside the jailhouse and quickly follows him into the shadows. He loses sight of him for a second before he’s suddenly thrown up against the side of the building with a hand around his neck.

“No Mr. White, it’s me, Sheriff Moon.”

Ralfe quickly lets go. “Shit, sorry Sheriff. I didn’t realise.”

Howard smooths himself down. “It’s okay. No harm done. But then I’m not as easy a target as others, am I?”

Ralfe drops his head at the obvious reference to Vince. “That’s why I’m here now Sheriff.”

“To help protect him, I know. Well you’re a little late this time Mr. White. Vince isn’t here.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s missing.”

“What?”

“You didn’t know?”

“No, I, well I’ve been keeping a low profile.”

“I was hoping you could tell me where he might be.”

“Sorry.”

“So you had nothing to do with the fire at the theatre either then?”

“No. God no! I swear I know nothing about that or where Deputy Noir is.”

Howard puts his hand up. “It’s okay, I believe you.

“You really don’t know where the Deputy is then?”

“Not a clue. But there is someone who might be able to help me find him.”

“Who?”

“Mr. White, if Mayor Bainbridge was keeping a person under lock and key just where might he stow them?”

“Easy, in his room.”

“His room, what above the Bullet?”

“Yeah, he has this special little room. He calls it the roasting room. He uses it to force information out of folks if you know what I mean.”

“Right, and how would I get to this roasting room?”

“It’s not that well-hidden, but you need a key to get in.”

“And the key is..?”

“On a steel loop the Mayor keeps on him at all times.”

“In his pocket?”

“Yeah.”

Howard puts his hand on Ralfe’s shoulder. “And tell me Mr. White, realistically speaking, how hard would it be to get a hold of these keys when, say, the Mayor was sleeping?”

Ralfe White nods in understanding. “Is this really going to help you find the Deputy?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Well then getting those keys will be no problem at all.”

Vince has finally stopped screaming and thrashing about. In fact he’s hanging limp now and muttering to himself, his eyes rolling back and forth behind his closed lids. Naboo decides it’s probably safe to unchain him.

He places a load of blankets and cushions below Vince and unfastens his ankles. Then using the little stool he reaches up and uncuffs the young man’s wrists. The Deputy drops like a rag-doll and although Naboo manages to partially catch him the blankets play their part. The little Shaman rearranges Vince into a comfortable position on the floor, grabbing more pillows and furs to further cushion his body from the hard ground. By the time he’s done he’s breathing hard. It’s about time he got himself a familiar he thinks. Something strong that can help him with the heavy lifting. Physical work just isn’t his forte.

He turns Vince onto his side and lays his hand on the Deputy’s forehead. The skin feels icy cold now, and Vince is shivering hard, his teeth rattling against each other. Naboo folds more blankets around him and backs away knowing that this is the last of the Babolisk Oil’s side-effects. He pulls up the little stool and produces from his pocket his pipe. He packs it with some strong smelling leaves, lights it and settles himself for the night, watching over Vince like some sort of gnome-like guardian angel.

Howard waits a good two hours after closing time before he arms himself with a couple of guns and makes his way to the back of The Salty Bullet. The saloon is in darkness. With a little difficulty he manages to squeeze himself beneath a set of stairs to await the success or failure of Ralfe White.

He’s semi-dozing when the soft pad of footsteps on the stairs brings him to his senses. His hand hovers above his holster.

“Sheriff?” Ralfe White whispers into the gloom and Howard slowly emerges from his hiding place, his eyes the whole time focused on the upstairs balcony to make sure they are alone.

“Over here.”

Ralfe joins Howard and holds up a set of keys.

“Piece of cake.”

“And he definitely didn’t see you? I don’t want to be walking into a trap.”

Howard knows that keys or no keys the threat of a trap is very real. If Ralfe has told Bainbridge earlier, has double-crossed him or has been caught with the keys, well then the Mayor will be there waiting, no doubt about it. He could shoot him as a trespasser or burglar. It would be oh so simple to explain away. In his head he could hear Bainbridge now – “I had no idea it was the Sheriff, Mr. Judge Sir, it was dark and I saw a figure in my room. I thought I was in danger so I shot first…” Yes, that trap would be so easy to spring.

Yet for some reason Howard trusts Ralfe White. Oh he still can’t find it in himself to forgive, after all the man is partly responsible for the near death of Vince, but strangely enough he does trust him. Ralfe really seems keen to make amends and Howard sees nothing in the man’s eyes to suggest otherwise. Plus the only thing Howard can put his faith into right now is his gut instinct. With no clues as to Vince’s whereabouts, and no easy access to Bobby Fossil, gut instinct and trust in Ralfe are all he has to rely on.

“You okay Sheriff?”

Howard realises he must have zoned out for a few seconds. “Yeah, I’m fine. So where is Bainbridge now?”

“Dead to the world in his bedroom. One of the girls is in his bed with him. He won’t be up until the morning.”

“The Piper Twins?”

“Same, except they’ve got about four girls with them. They’re downstairs though so they won’t even know you’re up there.”

“And Fossil’s definitely in that far room?”

“The roasting room? Yes he is. The Mayor has absolutely no idea I’ve been helping you that’s for sure because he was telling me about grabbing him from the jailhouse. Besides I got caught in the middle of the Twins arguing about which was going to fetch him his dinner, and I heard when Bainbridge went to check on him to make sure the twerp hadn’t done anything stupid.”

“Anything stupid?”

Ralfe nods. “Fossil has a habit of freaking out when he’s stressed, hitting his head against the wall, running around naked, insane dancing, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, right.” Howard frowns at this new snippet of information.

“Don’t worry Sheriff he’s fine right now, completely compos mentis. Well as much as Fossil is ever really sane.”

“And I go right through to a red curtain?”

“Yep, like I said earlier, it’s not that well-hidden.” Ralfe holds up one key from the set. “This is the one that’ll get you in.”

Howard takes the keys. “And where should I put them when I’m done?”

“I left The Mayor’s bedroom door ajar. There’s a chair just inside and I put his pants across it. Simply reach through and drop the keys there. Don’t push the door though else it will creak.”

“Won’t he notice that his pants and keys aren’t where he left them?”

“He was drunk and sated to sleep by sex. He won’t remember a thing.”

Howard puts his hand out towards Ralfe as a peace offering and a gesture of thanks. Ralfe takes it firmly.

“You’ve done very well Mr. White. I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Thank you Sheriff, but remember please that I have a family to protect. If it gets out that I helped you with this…”

“It won’t come from me Mr. White. If he catches me inside I’ll say that I broke in and stole the keys myself. I promise your name will not come up.”

Ralfe gives Howard’s hand one more shake before moving swiftly away into the shadows. It dawns on Howard then that the trust between them is very much a two-way thing.

Every creak, every groan makes Howard freeze and hold his breath. He’s already passed Dixon Bainbridge’s bedroom and risked a quick peek through the door. The snoring of both occupants had helped him further marshal his courage, but he wasn’t going to hurry along to the roasting room regardless. Instead he creeps furtively on, placing one foot gingerly in front of the other until he finally reaches the red curtain situated exactly where Ralfe White had said it would be. Now all he hopes is that he and Fossil can talk without the bank manager freaking out.

Howard turns the key until the lock softly clicks, and pushes the door slowly open. There’s a little light coming from above and he can make out the form of Bobby Fossil curled up asleep on a cot by the right-hand wall. The room is empty except for a table in the centre. Howard closes the door behind him and creeps across to Bobby’s side. He kneels down and clamps his hand to Bobby’s mouth immediately making the bank manager shoot awake in alarm, eyes madly wide with fear and fingers scratching at Howard’s arms.

“Ssshhhh Fossil. It’s me, Sheriff Moon.”

Bobby continues to struggle so Howard leans further against him, completely overpowering him with his size. “Calm down man, it’s me, the Sheriff.”

Bobby suddenly stills. He gazes up at Howard no longer in fear but in pure amazement.

“I’m going to take my hand away now Fossil. You’re not going to shout out or anything are you?”

Beneath Howard’s palm Bobby shakes his head from side to side.

“Do you promise because I’d hate for you to make a noise. I won’t be responsible for my actions if you yell or scream.”

Bobby shakes his head again and Howard cautiously removes his hand. He helps Bobby sit up.

“What are you doing here? Did Mayor Bainbridge put you in here too?”

“No, I’ve come to talk to you. The Mayor doesn’t know I’m here.”

“But he’ll kill you if he finds you.”

“I’m hoping that won’t happen.”

“Are you here to arrest me again?”

Howard puts his hand on Bobby’s arm. Bobby flinches at the touch, clearly still very scared of the larger man. Howard needs to get him onside, and fast.

He thinks back to the interactions at the jailhouse and quick as a flash it comes to him. Fossil’s concern about Vince has been evident from the beginning. The bank manager has obviously taken a liking to his Deputy. Howard can understand why, it was hard not to. Actually, come to think of it, all of his friends and acquaintances had taken to his Deputy in a similar manner. Vince certainly had an understated charisma about him. In fact it was this charisma that had already helped save the young man’s life. Howard knew he could use it again here.

“Foss…err…Bobby, I need to ask you about Vince.”

“Is he still missing?”

“You know about that?”

“Mayor Bainbridge asked me about it.”

“Did he?”

“He wanted to know what happened.”

“And what did happen Bobby?” Howard tenses on the edge of the bed, wanting and yet not wanting to hear Bobby’s story.

Bobby tenses too, unsure of how to proceed. Eventually he speaks. “If I tell you then you’ll save Vince won’t you.”

It’s a statement, not a question. Bobby continues, “I mean you saved him from the Mayor last time so you can do it again.”

Howard feels the pulse in his neck throb but he fights to remain calm. “Is Vince in danger?”

“Not yet, but he will be in the morning.”

“Why the morning?”

“Because Mr. Bainbridge knows where he is now and he’s going to go and get him and I don’t think he’s going to let him live this time.”

Howard fingers twist the edge of a blanket. “Bobby, I can save Vince. I can go now and get him and save him from Bainbridge but you’ve got to tell me where he is.”

Bobby turns to look at Howard. “I’ll take you.”

“What? No, you can’t. You have to stay here. It’s more dangerous if you leave.”

Bobby’s expression turns grave. “Mister Sheriff Moon, I know I’m not a smart man, but I’m smart enough to realise that the Mayor is only keeping me alive whilst I’m useful to him. I thought he was my friend but Vince showed me that friends don’t treat each other like this.”

Howard smiles sadly. “Well Vince is right. Bainbridge doesn’t treat you like a friend. He never has.”

“So I can come with you then? We can leave straight away. I know where Vince is and I think I know how to find it.”

“You think you know! Bobby, where the hell is he? Just tell me already.”

“He’s in a cave in the desert.”

“A cave. Did Bainbridge put him there?”

“No, like I said Bainbridge didn’t know where he was until this evening either, but he worked it out.”

“So what’s Vince doing in the desert? Who’s with him?”

“He’s with the magic man.”

Howard just stares at Bobby. He doesn’t respond. He just stares.

“Sheriff?”

Howard eventually shakes his head. He’d made a terrible misjudgment thinking Bobby could help him. The bank manager had clearly lost his mind. Howard shakes his head again.

“Sheriff, are you okay?”

“Tell me again Bobby, and tell me the truth. Where is Vince?”

“I told you, he’s with the magic man in a cave in the desert.”

Howard looks to the ground and rubs his eyes. He suddenly feels so much older than his years. All the running around, the stress, the fatigue and now this, sitting in a megalomaniac’s torture chamber questioning a man who’s clearly deranged about the whereabouts of someone it’s taken him less than four days to fall in love with. Exactly how had he gotten here?

Howard stands and starts to walk towards the door, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Bobby jumps up too and places himself between the Sheriff and the exit. “I know you don’t believe me.”

Howard sighs. “Whatever gave you that idea Bobby?”

He goes to push Bobby aside but the smaller man holds his ground.

“No, you can’t go, I swear I’m telling you the truth. I told Vince too. That’s why he let me out of the cell before he was taken.”

Howard looks up, interest slightly re-piqued. “Explain yourself.”

“I told Vince about the magic man and he didn’t really believe me either, but he agreed to let me take him.”

“Vince would have told me.”

“No, he didn’t want to until he knew it was real. After the Doctor left he let me out of the cell. He wanted to hurry before you came back. He was going to leave you a note or something, but then there was a bright light and I fell asleep and when I woke up Vince was gone and the Mayor was at the jailhouse with the Piper Twins.”

Howard puts his hands on Bobby’s shoulders and gives him a little shake. “How the hell can I possibly believe any of that?”

“Because it’s true and because I’ve no reason to lie and because I can show you.”

Howard stares at Bobby again. His mind had already been over every possible scenario involving what could have happened to Vince, but for some reason being abducted by a magic man and taken to a cave in the desert hadn’t been one of them.

He shakes Bobby again, but Bobby smiles at him. “I promise Sheriff I’m not lying. Mister Bainbridge knows about the magic man too. He’s visited him a few times now. I don’t know why but the Mayor seems a bit scared of him actually. I suspect that’s because of the magic though.”

“When you say magic do you mean card tricks and such?”

“No, I mean real magic, like a wizard or something.”

Howard closes his eyes. He has one choice to make, he walks out and heads back to the jailhouse, or he walks out with Fossil and goes on a crazy quest into the desert to find a magic man in the dead of the night.

“How far away is the cave?”

“Not far, but we’ll need horses.”

“And you can find it in the dark?”

“It’s quite easy, follow the railroad until the lake then follow the stream until the cactus clump.”

“And then?”

“Then I’ll show you.”

Howard bites his lip before finally nodding. “Okay then Bobby, you’re on. We’ve got to get out of here first though, nice and quiet yeah.”

“I’ll be like a mouse.”

“And you promise to take me straight to Vince?”

“As quickly as I can.”

Howard nods again before ushering Bobby out of the room and relocking the door behind him.

It takes Vince’s brain a good couple of minutes to remember where he is before it manages to tell his eyes to open. He rolls over onto his side and blinks away the last veils of sleep. He is surprised to see Naboo sitting quietly by his side on the little wooden stool.

“How are you feeling?”

Vince runs his tongue around his mouth. It feels sticky and dry as if he’d been yelling all night at one of his band’s performances. He scrapes his hair away from his face and wipes his forehead on his sleeve.

“How should I be feeling?”

“Well right now you’re probably in need of some food and water, but give it a little while, and a good wash, and you should feel brand new.”

“How long was I out?”

“Not too long. The sun’s just come up.”

Naboo stands and shuffles away into the corner.

Vince rolls onto his back and stretches his muscles. He waits for the stabbing twinge to pass through his stomach and ribs but there’s nothing. He rubs his back into the pelts below him and again feels nothing. Slowly he gathers up the edges of his shirt and lifts the material away from himself. There’s not a bruise to be seen.

“Wow.”

Naboo shuffles back to Vince’s side and hands him a bowl. “Here, you must get your strength back.”

“But the bruises, they’re all gone.”

“That is what I said would happen. Now eat.” Naboo shakes the bowl but Vince is still staring at his perfectly pale and unblemished midriff.

“I can’t believe it. It’s a bloody miracle. I can’t believe it.”

“It’s not a miracle, it’s Babolisk Oil. Eat!”

“But you could sell this Naboo. You’d make a fortune. A cure for everything. Does it do deep wounds too like when a bull gets you right through with his horns? Or what about broken bones? Or bullet holes?”

Vince looks up at Naboo, his bright eyes wide in exuberance. “What about knife slashes?”

Naboo meets Vince’s eyes. There’s a rakish gleam sparkling in the blue, a gleam that makes the Shaman feel both paternally protective and soft and squidgy in his centre. The kid oozes both charm and vulnerability. It’s a near exquisite combination.

Naboo shakes the dish at Vince again. “Eat!”

Vince takes the bowl from Naboo’s hand and starts tucking into the contents. “Honestly though you could sell the stuff. What did you call it? B something Oil? It would be worth way more than any gold. You could become rich overnight. Heck you could do anything you liked. Buy a town, two towns. By a saloon. That would be genius. Me and my mates could play in the band every night. We could put flyers up everywhere. And it wouldn’t be a scuzzy saloon like the Bullet, it would be proper with decent beer and friendly faces and we could showcase new bands and Monty could do some acting and Howard could help with security and, cuch, and, cuuchhcucch, and….”

Naboo pats Vince on the back. “Calm down, you’ll choke yourself.”

Vince’s eyes are watering but he smiles at Naboo regardless. “You could do anything and yet you live in a cave.”

“I’m not here to get rich, I’m here to help you and Howard.”

“Maybe getting rich is how you help me and Howard.”

Naboo frowns at the thought. Could it be… no! That would be wrong somehow. “I don’t think that would work.”

“Why not? We’d all be happy and we’d all be together. You could stay on Earth forever. We could all live in the saloon. It would be great.”

“I don’t think so.”

“But why not?”

“Because you have to…” Naboo stops himself before he says anymore.

“Because I have to, what?”

“Just eat your food.”

“I have to know, what Naboo?”

Naboo turns his back and walks away.

“What were you going to say? What do I have to do? Naboo?!”

Vince is about to stand and chase Naboo into the darkness when from outside there’s the sudden sound of hooves, the shouts of ‘whoa’ and the distinct crunch of boots hitting the ground as riders dismount. Naboo comes rushing back out of the shadows to stand at Vince’s side.

“Bollocks!”

“Who is it?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know, I’m here with you.”

“I thought you knew loads of stuff.”

“I do know stuff but not this stuff.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“Umm, hide.”

“Hide? Haven’t you got like a spell or something?”

“No I haven’t got like a spell or something.”

“Crap.” Both men start spinning around on the spot looking for somewhere, anywhere to conceal themselves when,

“Vince! Vince! Are you in there Vince?”

“Shhh, you don’t want to upset the magic man Sheriff.”

“I don’t care about the magic man, I’m here for Vince. VINCE! Are you here Vince?”

All of a sudden Vince comes flying out of the cave mouth, launching himself at Howard and wrapping his arms tightly around his middle. The Sheriff freezes somewhat in shock before returning the embrace as tightly as it is given.

“Howard!”

“Vince, oh thank god. I’ve been worried sick little man. What the hell are you doing all the way out here?”

Vince lifts his head, his eyes shining bright with glee. “You’re never going to believe it but I was brought out here by a Shaman. And he’s fixed me Howard, look!”

Vince lifts the front of his shirt for Howard to see. The Sheriff is as much astonished by the unbruised nature of Vince’s body as he is aroused by the reunion and the dark trail of hair leading to the waistband of Vince’s trousers. He grabs Vince’s face suddenly between his large hands and places his mouth forcefully onto the Deputy’s. Vince squeals in surprise before softening beneath Howard’s lips and returning the kiss with vigour. Naboo, standing at the entrance to his cave, shakes his head and looks away. Bobby Fossil just stares, his chin nearly on the floor.

Howard and Vince separate and look around themselves, embarrassed somewhat by the force of their passion. Vince smiles coyly. “Hi Bobby.”

Bobby remembers to breathe and clamps his mouth shut. Howard walks over to him.

“I’m sorry if we shocked you there Bobby. Umm, it’s just, well we, umm…”

Vince joins them. “What Howard is trying to say Bobby is that we’re a little more than friends.”

Bobby stares at Vince and then Howard and then Vince. Vince speaks again, “Bobby, did you help Howard to find me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then thank you for that.”

“Yeah.”

“And are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I understand that this must be a bit startling for you.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

Vince and Howard look at each other before taking hold of Bobby’s arms and walking him towards the cave and Naboo.

Howard nods a greeting towards the small turbaned figure. “You must be Bobby’s magic man.”

“I am Naboo. I am nobody’s man. I am a shaman.”

“A shaman? Aren’t they made-up make-believe characters from books?”

Naboo tuts and walks back inside his cave.

Howard frowns in confusion and looks at Vince. “Is he actually a shaman?”

“I think so Howard yes. He really did cure me you know. And he knows some stuff about us.”

“What about us?”

Vince goes to speak but then bites at his bottom lip instead.

“Vince?”

“I’m not sure Howard. It’s all a bit weird really. I think maybe Naboo would be better telling you himself.”

“But you believe him?”

“I dunno, but he didn’t only cure me Howard, I think he saved my life.”

“When?”

“Back at the jailhouse. He said I was about to be killed and that he had to swoop in and save me before that happened. He said he brought me here on a flying carpet. Imagine that, a carpet that flies.”

Howard screws his features up. “He could have totally made that up.”

“I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous doesn’t it, but there’s something about him. Something that makes sense about him in all this madness. And there’s another thing.”

“What?”

“I think he knows a bit about our future, but he doesn’t want to say too much.”

“Good, because I don’t want to know.”

“You don’t?”

“No!”

“But what if it’s important to know? What if it saves our lives?”

“Why would us knowing do that? I’m too young to die and so are you. We’ve years in us Vince. We’ve so much more to give.”

“But what if something were to happen?”

Howard lets go of Bobby’s arm for a moment to put his hand on Vince’s shoulder instead. He squeezes it. “I promise this is the last time I will lose you. We’re going straight back to Moonstone, we’re going to pack a bag and we’re getting out of this town. I’m through with it. All this has made me realise what’s important, and what’s important is you now. I can’t risk you getting hurt because of some foolish quest of mine. Let Bainbridge rot at the Bullet, I don’t care. If I never see his pig-stinking face again it will be too soon.”

Vince eyes widen with amazement. “But what about Monty?”

“The theatre’s been burnt down Vince.”

“What?”

“Bainbridge, he burnt it down.”

“Is Monty alright?”

“Yes, but there’s nothing left for him in Moonstone now. He’ll come with us I’m sure.”

“But what about Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins and Sally Glister and Chalky?”

“They can come too.”

“We can’t all go.”

“Of course we can. What’s Bainbridge gonna do? What can he possibly do? Bar our way? Force us back into our homes? I don’t think so. We can just rally up and all walk out of Moonstone together. It’ll be perfect actually. Fitting.”

“Walk out?”

“Walk out Vince.”

“All of us?”

“Yep. We can jump on the next train.”

“And if they won’t come?”

“We give them the opportunity. If they don’t take it then I can do no more. We go anyway.”

“But what about avenging Tommy and catching the murderer?”

“I don’t care anymore Vince. I really don’t care.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“But I do. I’m sorry, but if giving up means keeping you then it’s worth it.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, just come with me now. We can be out of town within twenty-four hours.”

“Alright Howard, but first hear Naboo out yeah. I dunno, but I’ve got a feeling that it’s not going to be as easy as leaving Moonstone.”

“Have faith little man.”

“I have faith in you Howard, it’s everyone else I doubt.”

Howard gives Vince’s shoulder another squeeze before readjusting his grip on Bobby’s arm. “Lead the way. Now I’m here I might as well listen to what this magic man has to say. If nothing else I want to find out how he knows Bainbridge.”

“Shaman Howard, he’s a shaman, and yes, I haven’t asked him about Bainbridge yet.”

“Well okay then. Let’s go and find out.”

“Owl beaks.”

“What the hell are owl beaks for?”

“Um, well they give the Mayor a certain vigour.”

“Vigour?” There’s a very puzzled expression on Howard’s face, but Vince smiles in understanding.

“Oh you mean…vigour!”

“Yes.”

“I still don’t get it.”

Vince makes a gesture at Howard with his hand and laughs as a blush hits the Sheriff’s cheeks. The Sheriff laughs too though. “Well that’s certainly some information I’ll happily take from this town. I might not be able to bring him to justice, but I’ll always know that.”

Naboo puts his hand up to shush Howard. “What do you mean by take from this town?”

“I’m leaving. Well we’re leaving actually. Today if we can, but tomorrow’s more realistic.”

Vince is nodding enthusiastically by Howard’s side. “We’re going to try and take the whole town with us Naboo. It’ll be brilliant. Can you imagine Bainbridge’s face when we all stroll on out.”

“You can never leave!”

“What?”

“You can never leave, Moonstone that is. You can try but you’ll always end up back here.”

Vince looks at Howard, a worried expression on his face. Howard shakes his head. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course we can leave. We’ll get on a train.”

“I tell you, you can get on a train, a horse, an aeroplane it will make no difference, you can’t leave.”

“An air – o – what?”

“Plane. Look trust me on this, you’d be wasting your efforts.”

Howard stares hard at the Shaman before turning to Vince for a second opinion.

“I told you it wasn’t gonna be that easy Howard.”

“Hang on a minute Vince, what makes you think he’s right?”

“Why have you got any reason to doubt him? He healed me and he saved my life and why else would the Shaman council have sent him to help us.”

“You believe that too?”

“Yeah Howard, I do.”

Howard turns back to Naboo. “We’re still going to try.”

Naboo shrugs.

“We are!”

Naboo stares calmly back at him, his lips puckered around the stem of his pipe.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Howard stands and strides towards the mouth of the cave. He steps outside and puts his hand and forehead against the warm stone. Vince rushes after him. He moves up close to his side, gives Howard’s back a firm rub and rests his chin on the Sheriff’s shoulder.

“Come on Howard, it’s alright. We can still give it a go. Look, even if Naboo’s right it’s gotta be worth trying if only to get everyone else out. If we can’t do it for ourselves we’ll do it for Monty yeah?”

Howard opens his eyes and looks sideways at his Deputy. He feels the familiar rush of warmth through his body as he makes eye contact, and gently reaches across to lay a fingertip on Vince lips. Vince kisses it instinctively before pulling Howard into a hug, resting his cheek against the Sheriff’s chest. Howard wraps his arms tightly around him.

“I was really worried you know Vince.”

“When you couldn’t find me?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault little man, and I’m really glad Naboo did bring you here, but I wish he’d have left me a note or something.”

“I was going to leave you a note.”

“I know, Bobby told me.”

“Do you think Bobby’s going to be alright Howard?”

“Not sure. He seems pretty shocked by the whole thing. Maybe everything’s finally caught up with him.”

“Has it caught up with you yet?”

“I dunno Vince. I hardly feel like me anymore.”

Vince nods in agreement.

The two of them stand holding each other in silence for a bit, rocking each other ever so slightly. Vince nuzzles further into Howard’s shirt and closes his eyes.

Howard can’t relax so easily. He stares across the top of Vince’s head out to the horizon, a deep frown set on his brow. How is he supposed to accept everything Naboo has told him? Everything about it is preposterous in the extreme. He is a simple man, a god-fearing and fairly law abiding man. He’s never questioned his life, well not really. He’s been dealt a tough hand sure, but he’s never thought himself particularly special. So how is he supposed to accept that the whole universe (he is still getting his head around that one) is being affected by his actions? When exactly had things become so goddamn mystically complicated? All this talk about soul mates and other planets and shaman councils and predestined futures, it didn’t make the slightest bit of sense.

Howard feels Vince sigh deeply against him and he kisses the top of the shorter man’s head. “Are you scared Vince?”

“Of what?”

“Of what Naboo said about our love putting us both at risk.”

“Well we’ve already been through a fair amount already and we’ve survived haven’t we?”

“Yes, but what if it gets worse?”

“Well I don’t think our love will be easily accepted by many people Howard. Two men isn’t exactly the norm now is it whatever town we live in? I think we’ll always be a bit at risk.”

“But Naboo meant something more than that didn’t he? This thing about the universe needing us to be together.”

“Else it will explode or something?”

“Yeah that stuff, and the bit about someone or something trying to keep us apart.”

“Why would someone want to do that? Why does someone want to hurt everyone and everything everywhere?”

“Why do people do anything horrible Vince? Why did The Piper Twins beat you up? Why did Bainbridge burn Monty’s theatre down? Why did someone kill Lance Parrot?”

Vince shrugs and looks up at Howard. “But Naboo said we had to be together though didn’t he, that we had to stay together whatever happens. And that even the universe itself is trying everything to help keep us together and that we’d best not argue with it.”

“I don’t like the idea that we’re being controlled, either positively or negatively.”

“Neither do I, but you’ve got to admit there’s something special between us.”

“That I do not deny Vince.”

“And that whether we’re being a bit controlled or not, that nothing feels as right as when you kiss me.”

“Is that true?”

“It’s my truth Howard.”

“Well I guess we’d better go along with the universe for the moment then hadn’t we?”

Howard bends, tilting Vince’s head as he does so and gaining himself full access to Vince’s neck. He notes the perfectly pale skin, stubbled but unmarked now by rope burns, and he hungrily applies his lips to Vince’s pulse point. Vince tips his head back further and plunges his hands into Howard’s hair, pulling them tighter together and screwing his eyes shut in pleasure. His pulse quickens and Howard, feeling it beneath his mouth, responds by spinning them both around and pushing Vince up against the outer wall of the cave. He jams his thigh forcefully between Vince’s legs and pushes upward enough so that Vince has no choice but to straddle it. It makes the smaller man sag against him in need and grab at Howard’s clothing. The Sheriff moves his thigh upward again and Vince groans so loud he forces Howard to quickly quieten him with a deep kiss, muffling the Deputy’s desire with his own heavy breathing and talented tongue. Vince grabs at the back of Howard’s neck and shoulders, pulling him even closer, and grinding himself roughly against Howard’s upper leg, his arousal clearly evident. Howard can feel himself growing rapidly too, and as much as he wants to have his way with Vince right there he’s very aware that it is hardly the time or the place.

Reluctantly Howard pulls back.

“Fuck!”

“Fuck is right. I’m hard as this rock Howard.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I got a bit carried away.”

“Shit.”

Howard’s enthralled by the rapid rise and fall of Vince’s chest, of the bulge in his trousers, of his mouth hanging open and by his reddened lips. ‘I did that’ he thinks to himself, and he feels the tingle rush again to his groin. He almost cedes to his longing to re-kiss Vince, and to the image of pushing him back against the wall and tearing his clothes off, but somehow he manages to close his eyes and take a few long breaths instead. When he opens then he sees Vince is doing the same.

“You gonna be alright?”

Vince opens his eyes, the blue of them dazzling Howard more than the desert sun. “By alright do you mean can I calm myself and my privates down and successfully walk back inside as if nothing has happened?”

“Um yeah.”

“I think so Howard, but you’ve got to promise to do that again to me later.”

Howard smiles. “Okay then, it’s a deal. We should think about heading back to town anyway. We need to talk to everybody about leaving tomorrow. We need to hear what they think about it.”

“What about Bobby?”

“Maybe it’s best if he stays here for tonight. We could get Naboo to bring him to the station tomorrow. I don’t want to leave Moonstone without him, and then if Naboo wants to he can come too.”

“And what do we tell Mrs. Parrot?”

Howard stalls. He hadn’t really thought about her. “That can’t be helped I’m afraid Vince. She can certainly come if she likes, but somehow I doubt she will. When we get out of here we can put the case as it stands to a judge, let the law decide how it wants to proceed.”

“But Bobby still knows the killer Howard. Maybe we should force him to tell us now.”

“You can’t.” Naboo’s voice from the entrance makes them both jump.

“What? Why not?”

“He’s, how should I put this? Well he’s a bit vague on that period.”

“Vague?”

“He’s forgotten.”

“But how? And how do you know?”

“Because whilst you two were out here fondling each other I was trying to get to the bottom of this mystery.”

Naboo smiles directly at Vince. “I see you won’t be needing owl beaks any time soon then.”

Vince whips his hat from his head and holds it in front of him. Howard looks guiltily at the ground.

Naboo grins a sort of lopsided toothy grin at both of them. “No need to be embarrassed gentleman, that’s exactly what the universe needs.”

Howard clears his throat, keen to change the subject. “You were talking about Bobby?”

“Oh yeah, well he seems to have lost his memory.”

“How?”

“You two kissing probably didn’t help. I don’t know. I think it’s probably some sort of post-traumatic stress amnesia. Well that, or the fact I gave him a puff on my pipe. It might have been a bit strong, it’s hard to judge with you humans. Either way he seems to have forgotten everything since last week.”

“Shit, you’re kidding!” Howard slaps the wall in frustration.

“Naboo, do you really not know who killed Lance?”

“No, I told you Vince it was never meant to happen. Some event or someone triggered it.”

“Well Bainbridge organised it. We know that.”

“No, Bainbridge organised the knife. We don’t know if he meant for him to be murdered.”

“What? But surely…” Howard stumbles as the idea takes root in his mind, “…well I suppose that could be the case. But then why threaten Lance at all?”

“Why ever threaten someone?”

“To keep them in line.”

Vince pipes up. “It’s like what you said Howard, he was probably murdered because of money or power. Lance stole from you for his family. Maybe he stole from Bainbridge too.”

“And Bainbridge wanted to punish him, to teach him a lesson.”

“But it went wrong and Lance was killed instead.”

“And so Bainbridge knows who killed him, but for whatever reason hasn’t turned him over to us.”

“Which means it’s either someone who works for him anyway or…”

“..It’s someone who Bainbridge can now blackmail.”

“Or maybe someone is blackmailing him. Maybe the murderer is leveraging Bainbridge somehow.”

Howard and Vince look at each other passionately as they feel the thrill of thinking as one pass through them. Naboo nods his head in appreciation.

“I’m not sure if you two are star-crossed or not, but you’re definitely meant to be together, that’s for sure.”

Both men look at the little shaman before Howard throws his arm loosely around Vince’s shoulders.

“And we’d like to stay together if we could please Naboo. So apart from telling us that we can never leave and destroying the brains of my key witness with whatever it is you’re smoking in there, would you kindly give us some advice on how we can help ourselves. I mean the only person I can see that’s trying to keep us apart is Bainbridge. Are you sure he’s not the one you’re looking for.”

“Don’t be soft Howard. Bainbridge is a mere mortal. He’s not got the skills or the strength to go up against the will of the cosmos. Besides he’s not trying to keep you two apart as such, he’s trying to kill Vince.”

“But why kill me?”

“Who knows, he’s an egomaniac. He doesn’t like Howard and he’s got psychopathic tendencies. His reasons for wanting you dead Vince will be simple ones. I can assure you he’s acting out his own personal grievances.”

“So how else are we being kept apart? I don’t see it.”

“That’s because you’re only thinking of the time you’ve been in each other’s company, the last few days if you will. What you’re failing to realise is that you were meant to meet a while ago.”

“When?”

“Exactly when is not important. In fact with all the turbulence it’s impossible to pinpoint, yet believe me it should have happened already. That’s why the pull is so strong between you now. It’s like having finally managed to get you together the universe is making up for lost time. The energy between you, well it’s tangible. It’s both beautiful and almost savage.”

Howard swallows hard. “Naboo, if I’m to believe any of this surely you must understand that I’m going to need some sort of proof. I can’t take your word on something as crazy sounding as that.”

“And even if it were true we’re together now right. Whatever it was has failed. The universe won and we’re here.”

“The proof is standing right next to you and nestled in the chambers of your heart Howard. And Vince yes, I too thought that it was all fixed now, but as I told you yesterday something’s still askew. Whatever it is, it’s still hanging about, and I’ve a feeling that when it finally shows itself it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

Vince leans forward. “Earlier you said I had to do something, you said it as if that something might finish all this and save everyone. What did you mean Naboo, did you mean I had to something dangerous?”

Naboo takes a big puff on his pipe. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve already said too much.”

“No, you can’t pull that one on me now. I’ve already nearly died twice so I’ve a right to know if it’s third time and lights out for me.”

“What’s Vince talking about Naboo?” Howard’s turned pale.

Naboo turns his back on them for a moment, fiddling with something he’s pulled from his pocket. A small purple light shoots upwards above his head. Howard and Vince watch it rise until it hits the roof of the cave and vanishes.

Naboo spins back around to face them. “I’ve sent a message to the Board of Shamen asking for help, but it may not come. They’re not the best at time management or multi-tasking.”

“That in no way answers my question!”

“Vince, I’m not saying that it will happen, but yes, there is a chance that you, and Howard, may need to sacrifice yourselves for the sake of the cosmos and every being in it.”

Howard stiffens. “So let me get this straight magic man. Vince and I are fated to be together, so much so that if we’re not then time, space or whatever is put into some sort of peril. We can’t leave Moonstone to help ourselves, but chances are if we stay Bainbridge or one of his lackeys is going to try and murder Vince. Annoying as that is it’s nowhere near as dangerous as the something that’s coming to really try and rip us apart. We don’t know what it is or how it will manifest itself, but when it comes the universe will try and keep the balance, and we’ll be slap bang in the centre of it all barely keeping our footing. And then, to top it all off, we may both have to die regardless.”

“That’s it in a nutshell, yeah. If Bainbridge succeeds in killing Vince and you survive Howard then the universe is effectively screwed and I will have failed in my mission. That’s why I saved him at the jailhouse. But if you can stay alive long enough Vince then the big, unknown enemy will come looking for one of you himself. It doesn’t want you to be together, that’s for sure. Why is still unclear. Clout maybe, greed, boredom. Powerful beings do get bored easily. Or maybe it’s just a massive arsehole!”

“But you’ll be here to help us won’t you Naboo?”

The Shaman looks up into the wide pleading pools of Vince eyes. He sees the fear but sees too the brave determination set within them. The same is present in Howard’s dark glare.

“I promise I will do absolutely everything to keep you safe whilst helping the universe, yes.”

“So you’ll support us then in trying to get us and some of our friends out of Moonstone once and for all.”

Naboo sighs and straightens his turban. “Okay. As much as I think it’s a wasted effort, there is a chance, a small chance that some of the residents will be able to pull clear. I’m not sure which so don’t bother asking me. I also cannot predict what Dixon Bainbridge will do or how he will react, but I suspect that he won’t take it too kindly. For that reason I am happy to keep Bobby for today and tonight, and will see he’s at the station tomorrow morning by eleven.”

Howard gapes.

“But how did you know…”

Vince puts his hand on Howard’s arm. “I find it best not to question it. Let’s do as he says and get back to town.”

“But how can you know so much and yet so little Naboo?”

“I know only what is already written along the predetermined timeline of your lives. These external unknown things that are affecting it mean there are now big black holes where there should be facts.”

“And how far ahead is the next black hole Naboo?”

Naboo looks from one to the other. “Oh, sometime before eleven tomorrow morning.”

---

[nextpage title=”Control”]

Control

There are many things that Dixon Bainbridge dislikes. He dislikes being woken by the soft kisses of whores, he dislikes the sharp jarring pain in his neck which means he’s slept on a bosom instead of a pillow, he dislikes the throbbing in his temples which remind him of those extra few whiskeys, but most of all he dislikes opening doors to supposedly secret rooms to find the contents of said room gone.

Dixon snatches his keys back out of the lock of the roasting room and races out to the top landing that overlooks the saloon. He peers over the banister. Chalky is already behind the bar, up a ladder and polishing a large decorative mirror. Scattered across tables and four overstuffed easy chairs that surround the saloon’s only hearth are some of his men. He spots both of the Piper Twins sound asleep and blanketed beneath the layers of skirts worn by the women who straddle their laps.

To say Dixon is furious is an understatement, and the roar that leaves his throat near shakes the foundations of The Salty Bullet.

Chalky descends his ladder quicker than prairie dog descends into its burrow at the sight of a hawk, and dives into the small store room behind the bar, eager to be out of sight.

The Piper Twins and company don’t have such a bolt hole. They rush to their feet in a rather humorous fashion; limbs akimbo, hats and jackets hurriedly replaced, shirts smoothed, underwear realigned. The women are quickly dismissed by their consorts and they flurry away as noiselessly as possible. The men are left standing, some swaying, under the harsh scrutiny of their boss, as yet unaware of what riles him.

They soon find out.

“Where is he?!”

The men look around at each other before returning their gaze cautiously upwards.

“Boss?”

“Fossil! Where the fuck is he?”

“Who Boss?”

“Fossil you brain dead piece of shit. He’s not in the roasting room. He’s not anywhere in the goddamn place. So tell me, where the fuck is he?”

Charlie Piper takes a brave step forward. “Boss, what me brother is trying to say here is that we don’t know nothing about Fossil.” He rubs the back of his head and looks around him. “We were here Boss, all night. We ain’t seen nothing suspicious.”

“You didn’t see anyone, you didn’t hear anyone?”

“No Boss.”

“How the fuck can that be possible huh? How the fuck can an imbecile like Bobby Fossil manage to sneak out of here? How the fuck can he get out of a locked room?”

“I dunno Boss. Someone helped him maybe?”

Dixon descends the stairs, his face bright red in anger. He charges right up to Charlie Piper and puts his face in close to the twin’s. “He had some help you think?”

“Yes Boss.”

“You think?”

“Boss?”

“Of course he had some help you bloody idiot.” Dixon spins on his heel and charges across to the bar. “Chalky, where the fuck are you?”

Chalky steps out of the stockroom, a distinctly white pallor to his skin. “Mayor Bainbridge?”

“What time did you get here this morning?”

“About thirty minutes ago Sir.”

“The door was locked?”

“Yes Sir.”

“And the keys were with you all night?”

Chalky swallows. “Yes Sir.”

Quick as a flash Dixon leans across the bar, grabs Chalky’s shirt-front and yanks the landlord across the wooden top. “You’d better not be lying to me McGrue.”

“I’m not Sir, I swear. My keys didn’t leave my pocket until I got here.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I just… I know Sir.”

“What about Moon?”

“Sheriff Moon?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know what you mean Sir.”

“You and he are quite pally aren’t you?”

Chalky swallows again as Bainbridge’s hold on him tightens. “I… we’re… well we’ve known each other for a long time.”

“Lend him your keys did you?”

“No Sir, I swear, I didn’t do that Sir.”

“If you’re lying to me McGrue…”

“I swear on my Mother’s grave Mister Bainbridge Sir, God rest her soul, I haven’t seen the Sheriff, not since, you know, not since you and he and the Deputy and the hanging thing.”

Dixon stares at Chalky hard before grunting and releasing the poor barman. He turns back to the rest of the room. “Who of you have keys?”

Charlie raises his hand. “But only to the front, back and main office Boss.”

“So who has keys to the roasting room?”

Charlie shakes his head, as do the other men. Bainbridge turns back to Chalky who also quickly shakes his head in denial.

Eddie Piper steps out to join his brother. “I think only you have a key to that room Boss.”

“What?” Dixon charges forward again and stands nose to nose with the smaller twin.

The waver in Eddie’s voice is very noticeable, but he summons up some bravery to reply. “I think there’s only one key to that room Boss. I remember you saying at the time that only you were to have a key.”

Eddie and Charlie both take a hesitant step backwards, awaiting the onslaught they believe to be coming next. But Bainbridge doesn’t yell and screech. Instead he closes his eyes and chuckles. The twins look at each other in confusion. Bainbridge chuckles louder.

“Boss?”

Dixon snaps his eyes open and the twins jump in response.

“Are you okay Boss?”

Dixon’s still laughing. “Oh yes, don’t you see, of course. How does a man disappear from a locked room?”

The twins shrug as Bainbridge walks towards them and plants a hand on each of their shoulders. “As if by magic of course.”

The twins still look confused as do the rest of the men, although a definite tension has lifted in response to the Mayor’s sudden change in mood.

Dixon wraps an arm around each of the twin’s necks and guides them to the window. “Have I ever told you boys about the magic man that lives in a cave in the desert?”

“No boss.”

“Magic man boss?”

“Yes, goes but the name of Naboo the Enigma. Strange little fellow. Quiet. Bit of a hermit. Seems to keep himself amused out there though.”

“Never met him Boss.”

Dixon looks at Charlie with a frown before reaching out to raise the shutter that’s covering the window. The twins groan as the light hits their eyes, but they dare not move backwards out of the glare. Instead they stand stock still as the Mayor spins back to face them, a curious expression on his face. He seems distracted by his own thoughts.

Eddie breaks them. “So d’ya reckon this magic Naboo bloke’s got Fossil then?”

Dixon’s returning smile is more frightening than reassuring. “Where’s Mr. White?”

“Huh?”

“Ralfe White, where is he?”

“With his wife and kid.”

“More sense than you lot then. Go and bring him here.”

Charlie Piper quickly dismisses someone.

“What about us Boss? And what about Fossil?”

Dixon strides back to the bar and grabs the coffee that Chalky’s placed there for him. He takes a gulp. “You two go and get me the Sheriff. I need to report a break-in.”

“You gonna tell him about the roasting room?”

Dixon downs his drink and slams his mug onto the bar’s surface. “Of course not you dull witted oaf. I want to look him in the eyes, see if I can’t detect something in them. See if he maybe knows a little something about this already.”

“What shall we tell him to get him here then?”

“Tell him the Mayor requires his assistance as he’s had some property stolen.”

Charlie opens the door about to step out, his brother right behind him. “Uhh Boss!”

“Mm!”

“You wanna speak to the Sheriff yeah, well happens he’s at the end of the street. And he’s got the Deputy with him.”

“What?”

Dixon barrels through them and out onto the veranda. Sure enough the Sheriff and Deputy, each mounted on a horse, are about a hundred metres away at the start of the street. They suddenly stop, obviously as a result of spotting Bainbridge.

“Where the hell did the Deputy come from? I thought he was missing.”

Charlie and Eddie join the Mayor on the porch. “Was he Boss?”

“He most definitely was. Something’s amiss here boys, something I can’t quite see or put my finger on, and you know how I don’t like not seeing or putting my fingers on things don’t you boys.”

“Yes Boss.”

“So you won’t mind in the least if I ask you both to give our lawmen a convincing reason to stop, will you?”

Charlie and Eddie smiley widely at each other before vaulting enthusiastically down from the porch and standing in the street, hands on the holsters of their guns and barring any passage. Dixon calls for a few more of his men to join then.

The Mayor grins to himself. “Your move Moon.”

“Oh Shit Howard.”

“I know Little Man.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“We’re going to sit tight a minute.”

Howard and Vince watch as the Piper Twins leap from the front of The Salty Bullet and stand facing them in the street. They are quickly joined by three or four others from the saloon.

“Howard?”

“Yes?”

“If something happens here and now…”

“Vince, don’t say that. We’re going to be fine. You heard Naboo, we’ve got until at least eleven-ish tomorrow morning.”

“Is that meant to reassure me?”

“Well…”

“No but Howard please, if something happens either now, or tomorrow, then thanks yeah.”

Howard turns to look at his young partner. “Vince you don’t need…”

“Howard, thank you.”

Howard smiles. “And thank you Vince.”

Vince smiles back. “You know, I really hope nothing happens right now because you’re on a promise.”

Howard smiles a little wider. “I hadn’t forgotten.”

“And if we get through this I want at least one pain-free uninterrupted night with you tonight okay?”

“You won’t hear any argument from me.”

“So you’d better have a plan ‘cause I really don’t want to die here today.”

“Don’t say that!”

Vince nods towards Bainbridge. “What, you think he won’t do it?”

“He won’t shoot me in the street Vince.”

“Would he shoot me though?”

Howard bites at the inside of his cheek.

“Oh fuck.”

“You’ve got your gun loaded haven’t you?”

Vince’s fingertips stroke against the holster of the gun given to him by Howard earlier. It had to be said that Howard had picked him out a beauty, but an attractive gun was still a gun, and Vince could never bring himself to feel good about having to own one. “I’ve never shot a man.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to start today.”

Howard takes a deep breath. “If anyone points their weapon towards you Vince I will kill them.”

Vince nods. “I know you will, and I think that scares me more than anything.”

Howard looks at him with an almost sad expression on his face. “I can’t let them hurt you.”

“I know.”

Howard takes another breath and looks back towards the group of men before them. “I found you in the desert.”

“What?”

“When Bainbridge asks, which he inevitably will, I’ll tell him I found you in the desert, wandering around on your horse lost.”

“Right..?”

“I’ll say you drank too much whiskey and what with your injuries and medicine you must have had a funny turn. You got confused and were out here trying to find me.”

“Not sure if I like being made out to be such an idiot Howard.”

Howard ignores him. “You’ll have to feign your injuries still too, pretend you’ve not healed. Lift your collar up a bit more yeah, like you’re hiding the marks. Pull your hat a bit further down across your face.”

Vince complies.

“Good, that’s good. Now hold your hand across your stomach a bit yeah, your left not your right, you still need to be able to grab your gun quickly should you need.”

“Howard…”

“And don’t talk. They’ll expect your throat to be screwed up so we can get away with that. If you say anything go extra croaky.”

“Howard…”

“Nothing’s going to happen. I will not let anything happen.”

“Howard…”

“I promise Little Man. Nothing will happen.”

“I love you Howard.”

Howard goes to say something more but is thrown into silence. Vince repeats himself. “I love you. I don’t know how or why. I don’t care if it’s fate or magic or just good luck, but I love you and I need you to know that it’s me saying that, really me, here and now, telling you I love you.”

Howard quickly looks to the side as tears pool. He blinks them away before turning back to Vince, his eyes glistening but his features composed.

“I love you too Vince, totally, utterly and completely.”

Vince smiles. “Okay then Sheriff. Get me home.”

Howard takes one more deep breath before kicking lightly at the flanks of his horse and moving the two of them forward towards the saloon and the welcoming party of Bainbridge and his Boys.

“What’s all this Mayor? Rolling out the red carpet for me? You shouldn’t have!” Howard steers his horse to a stop sideways on and a few metres in front of The Piper Twins and co. Vince follows suits but keeps his head low, his arm wrapped in pretence around his midriff.

Dixon moves to the top of the steps. “You been away overnight Sheriff? Anywhere interesting?”

“If you call going on a search and rescue mission interesting then I suppose so.”

“Yes, I see you’ve found your missing Deputy. You’re looking a bit worse for wear over there son!”

Howard edges his horse a little further in front of Vince’s and answers on his behalf. “No thanks to you Bainbridge.”

Dixon points at Vince.

“Whatever happened to him was due to his own failure to comply. I cannot be held responsible for acting upon the evidence before me.”

“Evidence that you construed out of nothing at all.”

“Tsh now, innocent men don’t run.”

“All men run sometimes Bainbridge.”

Howard stares hard at the Mayor before nodding towards his men. “So why the show of force? I’d like to be getting along home and the Deputy needs rest.”

“If your Deputy needs rest so much how come he was out and about on his own since yesterday.”

“Not that it’s any of your business but Deputy Noir had a, how should I put it, a reaction to the medication and the whiskey in his system. I was lucky to find him at all actually.”

Dixon frowns and cocks his head, closely analysing Howard and Vince’s faces. Well only Howard’s really as he can hardly make out the Deputy’s at all.

“That sounds almost too good to be true Moon.”

“Almost!”

Dixon snorts but continues to stare at Howard before The Sheriff eventually turns away and tightens his reigns.

“Well if that’ll be all.”

“No Sheriff, that’s not quite all.”

From the corner of his eye Howard can see Eddie Piper’s fingers lightly tapping the handle of his gun. He notes too how Eddie could easily get a shot away and hit Vince. He eases his horse forward a couple more steps to block the possibility of this happening before re-engaging with Dixon.

“What is it Bainbridge?”

Another of the men is stepping restlessly from foot to foot before a glare from Charlie stops him. Howard rests his right hand at the very top of his thigh. He doesn’t risk taking a glance at Vince. He doesn’t risk looking away for a second.

“Well as the lawman of this town Moon I thought you should know that I’ve had something very valuable taken from me.”

“Taken?”

“Stolen actually.”

“For something to be stolen Bainbridge it has to be yours, so was this something yours?”

“In a manner of speaking. At least it is more mine than anyone else’s.”

“And when did this theft occur exactly?”

“Last night.”

“Last night, I see. Late was it?”

“Late yes. You didn’t happen to see anything, did you Sheriff, being that you were also up and about in the early hours?”

“Can’t say that I did Mayor, although I was nowhere near here of course.”

“Yes, of course.”

Howard’s feeling more and more uncomfortable with the turn the conversation is taking, not so much because of the ‘I know that you know that I know’ aspect of it, but more because he can’t work out why Bainbridge would want to play these games so publicly. In fact a movement in Howard’s peripheries tells him that their little conversation has not gone unnoticed. How could it really? The residents were getting curious.

On the opposite porch Jean Claude and Jack along with a couple of their customers were grouped outside the door. Behind the line of Bainbridge’s Boys, a good many metres back and in the shadows, stood a larger group. And behind them near the goods store a larger group again. Howard tries to identify faces but the sun is too bright.

Instead he squints back at Dixon. “So then, this item, valuable was it?”

Howard thinks that to keep talking is best at present.

“To me it is invaluable.”

“I didn’t think there was anything in your life you held that dear Bainbridge, except maybe money.”

Bainbridge huffs. “Now Sheriff, no need for any of that. As it so happens this item is something I’ve had for many years. It’s not so much dear to me as strange when it’s not around. It may not have much of a function, but I like it when it’s near me. It helps to keep me…um…stress-free.”

“Really?”

“Really! So, can you help me find it Sheriff or am I going to have to locate it on my own?”

Howard frowns. Where was Bainbridge taking this?

The crowd of people in front of the store has doubled now, and in fact they seem to be making their way slowly forward, eager perhaps to hear as well as see the exchange. Word spreads so quickly in a small town, and with the recent goings on between their Sheriff and their Mayor absolutely no-one wants to miss out on anything. More voices reach Howard from behind but he still doesn’t want to take his eyes off of the gang.

Howard raises his voice a little so that everyone can hear him better. “So what does this item look like? I mean I’m going to struggle to help you find it unless I know what it is, aren’t I?”

Dixon however is no longer looking at him. Instead he’s looking past him towards the end of the street. Howard continues to resist turning around, that is until the unmistakable tones of Montgomery Flange and Eleanor Hopkins reaches his ears.

“Mr. Flange, come back here. Why do you need to go interfering all the time?”

“I’m not interfering Mrs. Hopkins. I’m just going to find out what’s happening. Please let go of my arm.”

“Well if you’re going then I’m going.”

Lucien’s voice now. “Eleanor no. I won’t allow it!”

“Lucien Hopkins, since when I have taken orders from you?”

“Eleanor please.”

Howard finally turns around to see Monty and Eleanor striding purposefully towards them, Lucien scurrying along behind. There’s more people gathered at the end of the street too, some of which also start to move forward. Howard puts up his hand. “Monty, Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins, good morning.”

The group stops in their tracks, still a small distance away but close enough to be easily heard.

Monty speaks first. “Howard, are you okay?”

“Fine Monty, I’m fine thank you.”

“And young Vince?”

Howard sneaks a look at Vince who is still slumped over in his saddle, his hat casting a dark shadow across most of his face. He catches it though, a glimpse of sparkling blue and the suggestion of a smile upon his lips.

“He’s not so good at the moment Monty, but I’m taking him home now. He’ll be okay.”

Monty nods and takes two steps closer. The crowd follow him. Jean Claude and Jack have also come to the rail of their veranda, and the goods store group has moved up level with the bank. Howard judges that everyone must now be in earshot. He turns back to Bainbridge. “I’m sorry Mayor, you were saying?”

Bainbridge has gone a shade redder and his men are looking far less cocky. Howard’s all too aware though that nervousness is as dangerous as anger amongst a group of armed men. He’s about to change the subject when another face walks through the crowd.

Ralfe White surveys the scene before passing between The Piper Twins and stopping halfway between Dixon and Howard.

“Mister Mayor Sir, and Sheriff.” Ralfe doffs his hat at both of them before standing square-on before Dixon. “I was told you needed to see me Sir.”

Bainbridge looks as pleased at the distraction as Howard does.

“Ah Mr. White, how good of you to join us. Yes, there’s a small matter I need your help with. Would you be so kind as to join me inside?” Dixon waves his hand towards the door of The Bullet.

Ralfe nods. “Of course Sir. And what about here?”

“Here? Oh there’s nothing happening here. We were just giving each other some advice weren’t we Sheriff.”

“Well I believe you were telling me how you were robbed last night.”

“Yes, well yes that’s the gist of it. The Sheriff can’t do too much about that at the moment though, what with an injured Deputy to take care of. Still I’m sure Mr. White that you can offer me some assistance in the matter.”

If Ralfe White is feeling nervous regarding his knowledge of how Bob Fossil disappeared from a locked room then he wasn’t showing it. Howard was unexpectedly impressed. In another life he would like to be good friends with Mr. White.

“Whatever I can do to help Mayor Bainbridge Sir.”

“Good, good. Well then Sheriff I shan’t keep you any longer. Maybe I’ll come see you when you’re slightly less… preoccupied.”

A quick nod to Charlie Piper and the men lining the street move back up the steps and inside the tavern. Ralfe White follows suit.

Bainbridge pauses for a minute looking left and right and across to the various faces amongst the gathered residents. He can read a myriad of expressions on each and every one; fear, anticipation, excitement, worry, anger, confusion, but if there’s one thing in particular that concerns him it’s the expression of steely determination set into the small yet remarkably arresting eyes of Sheriff Moon.

There’s a small waver in his voice as he speaks. “Good day then Sheriff. I shall see you again soon, no doubt.”

“Not if I see you first Mayor.”

Dixon Bainbridge purses his lips before turning on his heel and walking inside after his men.

Monty joins Howard as the rest of the onlookers disperse. “What the hell was all that about?”

Howard shakes his head. “I’m not entirely sure Monty. I think maybe he just wanted to remind me that he has muscle and firepower at his beck and call. Either that or he didn’t count on you lot coming out of your houses.”

“Do you think you narrowly avoided a shoot-out?”

Howard lets out a deep breath. “I dunno. I don’t think so but I couldn’t say for sure. It was getting a bit twitchy there before you turned up.”

Monty smiles widely. “See, I told you I was an asset.”

“I never said you weren’t, old friend. I don’t know why I’ve never deputised you really.”

“Get away with yourself Howard, I couldn’t think of anything worse. Besides I hate fighting.”

“I think you’re showing plenty of fight Monty. How are you by the way?

“Terrible. I haven’t slept a wink. Still I’m alive and that’s a blessing considering.”

“So you’re staying with the Hopkins?”

“Correct, at least for the time being. Mrs. Hopkins is quite remarkable you know, but I’m only going to be able to take so much of her nursing techniques. I mean the woman won’t stop feeding me.”

Howard notes that Eleanor is already fussing around Vince, patting his leg and trying to reach up to brush his fringe from his eyes. He can’t suppress a giggle.

Monty frowns. “It’s not funny Howard. I’m a bachelor, I’m not used to being nagged.”

“It’s not you I’m laughing at Monty, it’s Vince. It looks like he might be suffering the same fate. I’d best get him out of here.”

Howard moves closer to Vince and greets Eleanor again in order to distract her from a very flustered looking Deputy. “Thank you so much for everything Mrs. Hopkins. I hear you’ve been doing a grand job in looking after Monty.”

Eleanor turns and smiles warmly at Howard. “Why thank you Sheriff, I do my best. The Deputy here looks terrible though. Would you like me to come and help put him to bed?”

Howard sees Vince’s eyes widen in fright but manages to swallow down the laugh bubbling in his throat. “No, that’s fine thank you Eleanor, I’m quite capable of helping the Deputy myself. Although Monty, would you mind coming along with me to take the horses back to their stable?”

“Yes, I was going to ask if I’d given you permission to take my horse Howard.”

Howard grins sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry, but I didn’t have time to consult you.”

“It’s not a problem, and yes I’ll come back with you.”

Eleanor starts to say something but Monty hushes her. “I’m fine Mrs. Hopkins. I want to go with Howard now. I’ll be along later for a spot of that fine stew you promised me though. Thank you.”

“Okay then Mr. Flange, if you’re sure.”

She turns back to Vince and rubs him on the leg once more. “And you pet. If you want anything you ask and I’ll be there.”

Vince nods and pats at his throat.

“Oh your poor dear, I forgot you can’t speak. Don’t exert yourself. Get on home now and lay that pretty head of yours down. I’ll save some of that stew for you as well. Lucien eats far too much as it is.” With this she walks away, dragging a rather dumbfounded husband along with her.

Howard dismounts and takes Monty by the elbow, leading him in close alongside Vince. The Deputy lifts his hat away from his face and gives the old actor his biggest smile yet.

The look of shock that settles on Monty’s face makes Howard laugh again, as does the string of monosyllabic words which follow. “But… you… not… hurt… how… when?”

Howard pats his friend on the shoulder. “Let’s get back to the jailhouse Monty and we’ll tell you everything. Plus I need your help in something too.”

Monty nods and like Eleanor before him gives Vince a pat on the leg.

“Okay boys, but let’s grab ourselves a bottle on the way yeah. I’ve a feeling I’m going to need a drink.”

An hour or so later and Monty is completely up to speed on everything. Howard misses nothing out, even the reasons behind having Bob Fossil locked up in the first place and everything they know regarding Lance Parrot’s murder, including all the details of what happened outside the cemetery. They even tell Monty about Bainbridge’s need for owl beaks which leads to a fit of the giggles lasting a full five minutes.

However when they tell Monty about the mysterious force guiding their timelines, about fate poking its nose in and messing with their heads, about the impending deadline of around eleven o’clock the following morning, well that’s the point at which the atmosphere in the jailhouse changes significantly.

“So what do you reckon Monty?”

“Well it’s difficult to come to any kind of conclusion. I’ve always considered myself a fairly spiritual man, but my God is fairly quiet most of the time. All this talk of a force greater than ourselves getting involved with our lives and directing us to do specific things, well I’m not sure if I can believe that.”

“I’m not sure if it’s as black and white as that, although to be honest I’m not entirely sure I understand it properly. The details are a little vague.”

Vince nods in agreement. “I can’t decide what is fact and what is fiction either, but I do know that Naboo is real, he does exist, and he seems to know a great deal about us all. Plus he healed me. I mean look at me! I’m fully recovered! No herb or medicine has the power to do that alone. It was magic pure and powerful. And I felt it! No, I didn’t feel it, I lived it, for a good long moment, before I blacked out I guess. It was like nothing else I swear. It was at once burning hot and freezing cold, it was immense and yet so tiny, so specific, so centred. It knew what it wanted and it knew how to have it. I’m not sure if I believe in everything, but I do believe in that magic and I know that we should trust Naboo.”

Howard gives Vince a wink. “You’re absolutely right. We’ve no reason to mistrust Naboo’s intentions for us even if his reasoning is so hard to comprehend. And besides he’s now looking after Bobby. If that doesn’t show he’s on our side I don’t know what does. I mean, would you want to volunteer time with Fossil without good cause?”

This breaks the tension a little, as the three men share another chuckle.

“So then back to the plan. You want me to round up the troops, right?”

“Not sure I’d put it like that Monty but yeah. If you could spread the word around that would be great. And the more the merrier. I know there’s not long for people to plan but we at least give them the option to join us yeah. There’s a train nearly every day out of here, but if we all leave together it will be so much harder for Bainbridge to stop us.”

“I’ll certainly tell all I possibly can Howard. I’ll try to reach everyone. I don’t expect there’ll be a whole lot of interest though as it’s such short notice, but I’ll tell them all the same.”

“We can’t wait Monty.”

“I know and I understand. And you can bet your bottom nugget that I’ll be there ready to leave right alongside you. But for those with property, with children, with livestock and with businesses, I don’t think they can afford to leave so quickly.”

“If they don’t leave now they risk losing it all to Bainbridge in the long run.”

“Yes, and I’ll remind them of this, but don’t expect a mass exodus. I’ve a feeling it’ll just be the three of us.” Monty leans forward and pats the Sheriff on the knee. “Don’t be disheartened by that though Howard. It’s the thought that counts.”

“I’d feel forever guilty if I didn’t at least try Monty.”

“I know you would, and that’s why I’ll make sure that everyone hears about it.” Monty downs the rest of his drink and stands. “In fact I think I’ll start straight away.”

Howard and Vince stand too.

“You don’t have to go yet if you don’t want to? Stay and have another drink.”

Monty looks at each of them and smiles. “Oh my dear boys, although your offer is so very appealing, I cannot take up another moment of your precious time.”

“Monty, you’re not intruding.”

Monty smiles again. “Such beautiful stupidity in two men that really should be showing far more intelligence.” He puts on his coat.

“Did you just call us stupid?”

Monty finishes with his buttons before leaning up to place a kiss on each of Howard’s cheeks. He then turns to Vince and gently runs the pads of his fingers down the side of the younger man’s face before leaning in and kissing each cheek the same.

“Monty?”

Monty walks to the door but Howard races after him and puts his hand against it to stop him. “Monty, answer me.”

Montgomery looks up into the eyes of his best friend before gesturing to Vince. “Howard Moon, you have standing there a young man in the fullness of health and the prime of life, a young man whom, if I’m not mistaken, is in love with you as much as you are with him. Now, if I was told, true or not, that I might die within a few hours, I think I might like to spend those hours utterly and completely in the company of that man I love. That is to say in his company and his company alone.”

Howard’s eyes well up ever so slightly as Monty’s words flood a warmth through him. He pulls the actor into a tight embrace and kisses the top of his head affectionately.

“I love you Monty.”

“I love you too Howard. Now get off me you berk and go tend to your Deputy. He loves you more.”

Monty opens the door and disappears into the sparkling sunlight of the afternoon. Howard closes it behind him and locks it tight before turning back to Vince.

The two men stand, almost awkwardly, at either side of the room. Howard fiddles with his shirt collar as Vince bites unconsciously at his bottom lip. They both look down to the ground before looking up again at the same time. Vince breaks the silence.

“He’s right you know.”

“About us being stupid?”

“No, well yes that, but no. About me being in love with you.”

Howard swallows. “Yes, he’s right about a lot of things is Monty.”

There’s a pause again. Howard speaks first this time. “So we’re alone at last.”

“It would appear so.”

“And this may be our last few hours alive.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m horny as hell!”

“Yep…what?”

“I’m horny as hell. Aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, but Howard, if this is it, I mean really it, I want it to be something more than. I dunno. But something more yeah.”

“It’s alright, I get you. I know what you mean.”

“I knew you would. But I still don’t really know what I’m doing. I want everything to be as good for you as it is for me. I’m worried I can’t give you that.”

“You love me Vince, there’s not much else you can give me.”

“You know what I mean. Physically I want to please you and stuff but I’m not sure how.”

“Everything we’ve done so far has been perfect, and besides when you kiss me I feel like I’m on fire. No-one has ever done that to me before. You couldn’t be inadequate if you tried Vince. The mere taste of your lips against mine, the feel of your skin, your breath against my chest, the sounds you make when I touch you, all of these are enough to satisfy me. Anything you do beyond that is simply, well erotic extras.”

It is unlikely that Vince could blush anymore if he tried, and he blushes more as he realises that this too is a new thing for him. Vince had never felt embarrassed about any aspect of sex before, had never been shy in coming forward or asking for certain sexual favours. But with Howard everything is different. He supposes it’s because this sex means something. Regardless of the added weight of a doomsday deadline the idea of sex with Howard resonates within him deeper than it had ever resonated before. He didn’t ever want it to be a quick shag or a once around the garden, but especially not this afternoon. Oh no, he wants total immersion and equal pleasure. The trouble is, never had Vince been so aware of his lover’s experience. In fact more often was the case that he was the more experienced of the two, or three. But Howard is not only accomplished, he’s older and wiser, and, it has to be said, very good at it. Vince blushes again at the memory of where Howard had already put his tongue. Maybe one day he’d be able to give as good as he got, but one afternoon wasn’t a huge amount of time to learn some new tricks. Vince looks down and worries his bottom lip again.

Howard is in front of him and wrapping him up in his huge strong arms before Vince even realises he’s moved from the door. He closes his eyes and lets his cheek fall against Howard’s chest, willing himself to relax into the embrace. Howard, sensing the tension in his Deputy, moves one of his hands up behind Vince’s neck, cradling the smaller man’s head and circling his thumb against the side of Vince’s nape behind his ear. The other hand he runs up and down Vince’s back, hard enough not to tickle, but soft enough to soothe. He nuzzles his nose into Vince’s hair and speaks softly into it.

“I love you Vince Noir. I thought I’d lost you again and it was hell. But there is a good to come out of it. It’s that losing you made me realise how much I need you, how much I want you. It made me think about the emptiness, the nothingness that was my life before you came along. If there’s one thing that I do know is true about all of this then it’s all that soulmate business. We are meant to be together Vince, that is a fact, and I know that with you by my side and in my arms today, that whatever tomorrow holds for us, well then I can face it. You are my strength and my reason for living.”

“Are you scared about tomorrow Howard?”

“Yes.”

“So am I.”

“I think it would be weird if we weren’t. Naboo’s sure freaked us out.”

The two men are quiet again for a bit. Howard continues to rub Vince’s back until Vince starts to lean more heavily into him. “Hey, you’re not falling asleep there are you?”

“Ha, no Howard. It’s nice though, makes me feel all dreamy.”

“You are dreamy.”

“Shut up you big dope.”

“Hey!”

Howard lightens his touch and runs his fingers to either side of Vince’s waist, tickling and gently prodding. Vince giggles and tries to slap Howard’s hands away, but they’re persistent. “Howard…no…Stop it…Please…stop it…you’re gonna make me pee myself.”

Howard tickles some more before pulling Vince back into his arms. “Take it back then.”

“No.”

“Take it back!”

“No. I won’t be taking that back Howard. I’ll be leaving it out there. You’re a big dope, a big soppy dope and you know it.”

“I’m not a dope, I’m a man of action Vince. I’m sharp and edgy. I’m powerful.”

“Prove it.”

“I will.”

“Go on then.”

“When?”

“I think I’m ready now Howard.”

“Okay then little man, you asked for it!”

Vince giggles and pushes himself away from Howard’s chest. He turns quickly and runs around the table placing it between himself and Howard. His eyes are sparkling with mischief.

Howard reaches across to try and seize Vince but misses. He places both palms flat on the surface.

“Come here.”

“No way. You’re well scary when you’re horny.”

“I’m not chasing you.”

“What, the big, bad Sheriff doesn’t want to play?” Vince folds his bottom lip in a mock gesture of dejection. Howard tries not to smile.

“If you give up now Vince I’ll go easy on you. You’re only making this harder on yourself by trying to get away.”

Vince’s eyes widen before his whole face becomes a grin. He wiggles his eyebrows. “You still have to catch me first Sheriff.”

Vince feigns to the left making Howard move the same way before darting to the right and running towards the back of the jailhouse. He thinks about diving into the bedroom but opts instead for the empty cell. He yanks the door closed behind him and pulls against it.

“O you little shit!” Howard charges after Vince, his boots pounding against the wooden floor. He reaches the cell door and grabs at the bars just above where Vince’s fists are clutching at it.

“Is this your big escape plan?”

“I didn’t have time to think it through.”

“I could lock you in and leave you to pine away.”

“What makes you think I’d pine?” Vince’s eyes are sparkling again.

“You know all I have to do is push right.” Howard gives the door a little rattle to prove his point.

“I’m stronger than I look.”

“Yeah right”

“I might win Howard.”

“You won’t!”

Vince moves his right hand upwards and places it on top of Howard’s. He strokes the Sheriff’s knuckles with his thumb. “But I’m quicker than you old man.”

Howard does an exaggerated intake of breath before reaching through to grab at Vince’s arm. He catches the sleeve of Vince’s jacket but the Deputy simply swivels away leaving Howard with only the garment in his hand.

Vince grins cheekily. “See, too slow!”

Howard pulls his arms and the jacket back through the bars.

“Hey don’t rumple it!”

Howard cowls his brown eyes beneath his brows. He pins Vince down with his glare, and with a sly smile he shapes the jacket into a fabric ball and tosses it to the side.

“Oi!”

Howard very deliberately, very slowly pushes the cell door open, allowing it to squeak in menace. He stands at the opening, half in and half out of shadow and raises his hand in front of him, palm upwards. Still deliberately, still slowly, he makes a fist, lifts his forefinger and gestures Vince toward him with it.

“Come here!”

Vince shakes his head and takes a step or two backwards. He can feel the end of the cot-bed behind his calves. His pulse is racing.

Howard takes one step inside the cell and repeats the action. “I said come here.”

Vince edges further away, but makes the last second error of looking down at the floor so as not to trip. Howard is on him in a flash making him accidentally squeal. Howard can’t help laughing out loud before slipping back into character.

“You’ve got a smart mouth, but you’re not so smart.”

“Sheriff I only…”

“Shut-up and stay still.”

The younger man shivers in anticipation as Howard brings his hand up to Vince’s head. He runs it gently through the dark mane, twisting the ends. He rubs his fingertips firmer against the side of Vince’s scalp. Vince closes his eyes and mews quietly.

Howard allows himself a moment to really look at the younger man’s face, the face that’s literally lying in the palm of his hand. Vince’s cheeks are glowing a very soft pink, and his eyelashes are fluttering a little. He moves his hand to the back of Vince’s head and massages here, his eyes full of wonder as Vince rewards him with a slight parting of his lips and a delicate whimper. Howard’s heart floods with warmth, as does his groin.

Vince opens his eyes and finds Howard staring at him adoringly. As his mouth parts even more Howard envelops it with his own, his lips pulling, his tongue licking and spiraling and willing Vince to reciprocate. But Vince doesn’t, Vince pulls away.

Howard is left hanging.

“Oh no. You don’t get me that easily Sheriff.”

“I told you not to move.”

Vince’s arse hits the wall. “Yes well you can’t have it all your own way can you?” His eyes gleam in glee.

Howard kinks an eyebrow. “I won’t ask you again Vince.”

“Ooh you’re so masterly.”

“Are you going to come back here or not?”

Vince bites his top lip and cocks his head. “Not!”

Two steps.

Just two steps with Howard’s huge gait.

But then the Sheriff stops. His face and eyes soften and he pulls one of Vince’s hands into his own. Vince frowns slightly in confusion.

“Howard?”

“Is this okay Vince?”

Vince shakes his head at him not understanding.

“You’ve had a rough few days. If any of this gets too much…”

“I want to have sex with you Howard.”

“No, I don’t mean that, I mean me, chasing you around here. Is it, you know, bringing back bad memories?”

Vince’s heart melts and he wraps his other hand around Howard’s huge one. “It’s not. It’s rewriting bad ones with good. I love you Howard.”

“You’ll tell me though right, if I go too far I mean?”

Vince nods. “Just don’t put anything around my neck yeah.”

Howard nods glumly back. “Of course not.”

The Sheriff now looks a little bashful, as if breaking the mood has suddenly affected his confidence. Vince smiles and kisses Howard’s fingers.

“Hey, don’t worry. I trust you. Now back to it lawman. I was getting well turned on by you.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah, and don’t pretend you weren’t too. I’m not blind you know.” Vince runs his hand down the front of Howard’s body pausing only briefly before firmly cupping the Sheriff’s crotch. Howard sucks air through his teeth. “So old man, you still gonna punish me or what?”

Howard grinds a couple of times against Vince’s palm before growling low and grabbing Vince’s shoulder. He spins him around until he’s facing the wall. He takes both of Vince’s wrists, pulling one arm above the younger man’s head whilst keeping a tight grip on the other by his side. He leans in against Vince’s back, slightly squashing him, overpowering him, and puts his mouth right up to Vince’s ear.

“You’re a fucking tease do you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Really? Like what?” Howard flicks his tongue out to lick the edge of Vince’s earlobe.

“Slut.”

“Well that’s not a surprise. What else?” Howard moves in closer and licks all the way around the rim.

“Tart.”

“Well you are a tart. What else?” He licks back down and takes Vince’s lobe gently between his teeth. Vince’s breath hitches.

“Chicken.”

Howard stops licking in order to snigger. “Chicken?”

“Yes.”

“Who called you chicken?”

“A girl.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh it does matter.”

“It doesn’t. I shouldn’t have said it.”

Howard sniggers again. “You are so telling me about this later.”

“Fuck off and get back to the licking thing yeah.”

Howard lets go of Vince’s wrist to brush the dark strands away from his slim neck. He feathers his fingertips across the pale skin before replacing them with his mouth. Vince quivers and murmurs, the vibrations from his throat sending mini pulses of pleasure through Howard’s lips.

With his newly freed hand Vince reaches behind him and pulls Howard closer. He can feel Howard’s erection pressing into the small of his back and feels his own clambering for space between the material of his trousers and the wall. He wonders briefly if he’s going to be able to last very long before orgasaming. Once Howard finally gets around to touching him well he might…

..his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a belt buckle jangling.

Howard’s once again up by his ear.

“I love you Vince.”

“I love you too Howard.”

Both men’s voices are breathy and luscious with lust.

“I want to try something, is that okay?”

Vince turns his head as far as he can to meet Howard’s gaze. “Will I like it?”

“I hope so.”

“Will you like it?”

Howard grins. “Most definitely.”

Vince squirms beneath Howard’s grip and manages to turn himself around so he’s facing the Sheriff. Looking down he notices Howard’s holding his belt in his hand. As he looks back up Howard catches his mouth in a kiss. There’s no backing away this time.

Vince allows Howard’s lips to ravish him. They’re everywhere and nowhere at once, on his mouth, on his forehead, on his cheeks, around his ears, and his eyes and his nose. Vince lets his head fall back against the wall and Howard seeks his Adam’s apple, the notch in his neck, his pulse point. Vince mutters Howard’s name and the Sheriff is spurred on. He makes quick work of Vince’s shirt buttons and exposes his torso, all the time sucking and licking and tickling the soft skin with his moustache. He nuzzles at his favourite patch of chest hair before diving upon Vince’s left nipple, rolling it lightly between his tongue and teeth. A dark heavy moan rises up from Vince’s depths. Howard’s clever fingers find their way to Vince’s belt.

Vince jams his fingers into Howard’s curls as the Sheriff moves to the other nipple. “Not too fast Howard.”

Howard undoes Vince’s buckle and pulls the leather through the loops. “Oh, this is going to be anything but fast.”

“What?” Vince’s voice goes an octave higher as Howard raises himself back to full height and thrusts his thigh between Vince’s legs.

“I said this isn’t going to be fast.”

Howard, both belts still in hand, grabs Vince’s waist and lifts him easily into his arms. Vince instinctively wraps his legs around him, moaning again as his groin makes contact with Howard’s stomach. Howard grins before carrying Vince from the cell.

Vince assumes he’s being carried to the bedroom, but Howard stops before he gets through the bedroom door. Instead he gently places Vince back on his feet and cups the Deputy’s chin in his hand.

“Remember what I said Vince. If anything becomes too much.”

Vince nods. His eyes are huge and beautifully blue. Howard can’t resist placing the lightest of kisses above each one before taking Vince’s wrist and again pulling it above his head. Using his belt he fastens it to one of the bedroom cell bars, tight enough to restrict but loose enough not to chafe. The blue eyes grow wider.

“This still okay?”

Howard pauses waiting for permission, Vince’s left wrist now in his hand. Vince nods again and leans forward to kiss Howard on the nose.

Howard attaches Vince’s other hand to the bars in the same fashion, amidst a quick request from Vince not to crack the leather, and stands back to admire his work.

Vince looks delectable. Howard’s not sure if it’s right or proper to feel this turned on by seeing your lover tied to bars, shirt hanging open, trousers half undone, cock bulging and chest heaving. He looks wanton and innocent all at once, shameless yet shy, aroused and yet abashed. His eyes, well how many other words for blue are there? And the colour in his lips alone make Howard’s dick twitch.

And then Vince smiles, a sexy yet genuine smile that lights up the room as much as his face. Howard’s hunger peaks.

He moves to stand in front of Vince but he doesn’t touch him. Vince, now desperate for contact, tries to move forward, but of course to no avail. This is what Howard is counting on, that the belts hold. He’s also relying on his own will power to hold as fast. It’s been a long time since he played a game like this, and back then it had been he who was tied-up. He hoped he could get this right and resist his urges, for Vince’s sake as much as his own.

“Howard, please.”

Howard pulls in a breath as Vince’s appeal shudders through him, but instead he walks away, over to the shelves near the table. He grabs a glass and the bottle of whiskey that Monty had left behind. He pulls himself a large tot and returns to standing in front of Vince.

Vince watches as Howard takes a large swig, watches his slight grimace as the alcohol hits the back of his throat, watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, watches him lick the bitter-sweet wetness from his lips. It’s such a simple thing and yet somehow so seductive. Vince’s licks his own lips in response.

“You thirsty Vince?”

“I’m pretty dry yeah.”

Howard takes another small sip before moving closer. He lifts the glass to Vince’s lips and tips it slowly, not wanting to choke the younger man. Vince swirls the amber brown liquid around his mouth to lessen the burn before he swallows. He licks his lips again.

Howard eyes him fondly before taking another sip himself. He doesn’t swallow it all this time. Instead he moves even closer and covers Vince’s mouth with his own. As his tongue seeks entrance into the younger man so a little stream of whiskey follows, sweetening and souring every nerve ending and dribbling onto their chins. Howard doesn’t touch Vince at all, he’s holding instead the bars either side of him, not one part of them in contact apart from their mouths. And they kiss like that for an age, deep and strong, hot and heavy, slurping whiskey from each other’s chins, until the need for air parts them.

Howard steps back again, but not before quickly rubbing the palm of his hand against Vince’s bulge. Vince’s head lolls against his own shoulder as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Fuck Howard.”

Howard takes another sip before putting the glass down and removing his jacket. He leans on the table and removes one boot and sock, then the other. Vince cannot tear his eyes away. Howard strolls forward again, unbuttoning his own shirt as he does so and rolling up the sleeves. He undoes the top button of his trousers but goes no further.

When Howard leans against Vince to kiss him this time he presses their naked chests together. Both men groan appreciatively and Howard pulls Vince even tighter against him, wrapping both of his large hands into the back of Vince’s hair and roughly ruffling it as the kiss intensifies. The bars dig into Vince spine but he doesn’t care. The thing Howard is doing to his body is worth any bruise.

Howard breaks the kiss and starts moving down Vince’s body again, tucking his nose beneath the folds of Vince’s open shirt and kissing his sides. Vince squirms as the expert lips find tickly spots and tender spots and downright thrilling spots, and he squirms even harder as Howard returns to a nipple. Howard takes the other between his fingers and toys with both, harder then softer, harder then softer. Vince kisses the top of Howard’s head, the only part of Howard he can sort of reach, and Howard allows it. He likes feeling Vince gasp and sigh into his hair, his breath hot against his scalp, his moans vibrating against his skull. He keeps on until he sees Vince start to circle his hips, trying desperately to cause some friction, any friction against his cock. Howard reaches down and pulls Vince’s trousers unceremoniously to his ankles in order to stop Vince even finding the smallest pleasure on his own. Vince scrunches his eyes shut and bangs his head backwards against the bars as he’s freed. He continues to circle his hips but now there’s nothing on which to rub.

“Oh fuck. Fuck!”

Howard takes a step back and picks up his glass.

Vince stops the rotation but his stomach muscles are still rippling. He tries to kick his trousers away, but as his boots are on this doesn’t work. He looks down at himself, exposed and at full mast, his nipples hard and glistening with saliva, before slamming his eyes shut again and whimpering.

“Howard please.”

Howard continues to sip at his drink, rubbing himself slowly through his own trousers as he takes in the sight before him.

Vince eventually looks up into his eyes, his fringe slightly damp now as his body heat rises. In fact Howard notices a sheen covering all of him, a sheen that adds to his youthful glow. Howard can feel sweat prickling at his own hairline and skin too. He’s not sure that it looks quite so fetching on him.

The Sheriff makes a stop at a low cupboard before coming forward again, refilled glass in hand. He gives Vince a chaste kiss upon his cheek before crouching in front of him and putting the glass on the floor.

A slight pause before he gives Vince’s cock one long lick from base to tip. Vince nearly crashes his body backwards through the bars.

Howard holds his hips still and kisses Vince’s stomach.

“Christ Howard, you wanna warn me before doing something like that?”

Howard looks up at him and shakes his head.

“What so you’re not speaking to me now is that it?”

Howard nods this time and starts to kiss along Vince’s hipbones and outer thighs.

“And this is my punishment is it? The teaser becomes the teased.”

Howard kisses around the backs of Vince’s legs at the same time lifting Vince’s foot so he can remove a boot and a trouser leg. He frees the other in a similar manner but then has a change of heart and puts the boots back on. He smiles up at Vince impishly.

“Oh yes, very nice Howard. Whatever turns you on.”

Howard goes back to kissing Vince’s legs who widens them in response. He comes inside, kissing and sucking Vince’s inner thighs, always threatening to relick his penis but then changing direction. Vince grunts in frustration and tries to move his hips, but Howard has them pinned tight. His knees weaken as Howard comes the closest yet, licking right inside the crease of his left leg and groin, the soft rasping sound of moustache meeting pubic hair the only noise to accompany Vince’s throaty gasps. Vince bucks against Howard’s hands, waiting to feel Howard’s mouth engulf him, but Howard suddenly stops and grabs Vince’s ankles. He pushes Vince’s feet backwards and wraps a length of cord around each and a rail. He pulls tight and the left boot slams ‘clonk’ against the metal. The right gives some resistance, but soon Vince is secure, spread eagled and keen, his groaning now intensifying. Howard stays on his knees between Vince’s legs and picks up his drink. He looks pretty pleased with himself, the cat that got the cream.

Vince glares down at him, desperate desire dripping from every pore. “You bastard!”

Howard shrugs and takes a drink.

“You wait ‘til I’m free. I swear Howard Moon I’m gonna…”

Howard takes another sip and then suddenly his mouth is around Vince’s cock, the whiskey slightly cooling his tongue and giving Vince the biggest jolt of pleasure so far. Howard’s ready for him this time though and holding his hips still he takes all of Vince at once. Vince yelps, and pulls at his wrist bindings before managing to calm himself a little and relax back against the bars. There’s nothing relaxed about his pulse rate though and Howard can feel it pounding through him like a train. Howard smiles around him and hardens his tongue, running it firmly from root to tip.

“Oh god!”

Howard repeats before laying one arm across Vince’s midriff and taking hold of the base in the fist of his right. He doesn’t move, just holds it firm, waiting for Vince’s shivers to subside a little. He looks up. Vince’s head has fallen against his chest, his hair hanging around it a little wetter than before, his mouth open as he takes shallow breaths, his cobalt eyes still dazzling although a little less focused. Without looking away Howard puts his tongue out and gently licks the opening at the tip. Vince shudders. He does it again, a little harder, and circles his tongue once, twice around the head. Vince’s clamps his teeth into his bottom lip. Howard starts to move his fist, still circling the tip with his tongue, slowly at first but then faster and firmer. His fist plays out a steady rhythm, double the speed of Vince’s breaths. His tongue caresses and careers the whole of the tip. Vince can no longer keep his eyes open. He throws his head back again as Howard takes him fully once more, his hand still pumping at the base. He lets go of Vince’s hip and massages his testicles and below his cock. He finds every spot, every stretch of skin, every nerve, and he plays them like a musical instrument, a long note here, a half note there. Above him Vince bucks and buckles and begs Howard not to stop.

Howard allows Vince to thrust a little against his tongue, taking pleasure in the fact that Vince is giving himself so completely to him, feeling empowered by it and flattered by it. Above him Vince’s sounds change again. They increase in pitch and ferocity, and Vince his saying his name like a mantra.

“Howard, oh my god Howard, Howard, Howard, fuck don’t stop, please Howard, yes, don’t stop, goddammit it Howard, I’m gonna, please I’m gonna…”

Howard pulls back as abruptly and Vince yells out,

“No, no, no, what you doing? No, no, no, no, oh fuck no, fuck no, you bastard, you fucking bastard, I was there, fuck no.”

Vince shakes and thrusts his groin forward trying to find contact with something, anything that will give him release and stop the ache. Howard giggles and stands, taking another sip of whiskey as he does so. He brushes the hair away from Vince’s eyes and cups his face between his hands. He places a soft kiss on his lips and runs his tongue along the bottom one, coating it with liquor before forcing his tongue through and sucking the remaining breath from Vince’s lungs. He kisses until he feels Vince melt entirely against him, and then he stops to stroke Vince’s face some more.

Vince stares at him for a few long seconds as his breathing evens out and his chest calms. Eventually he smiles at Howard. “You’re still a bastard though.”

Howard smiles back. He gives Vince another sip from his glass before putting it down and undoing his own trouser buttons. He steps out of them as they pool at his feet, and can’t help but sigh as his own erection is finally freed.

“What now, you gonna rub yourself in front of me. Make yourself orgasm why I watch?”

Howard shakes his head and moves in close again. Howard’s height advantage is lessened slightly by the heel of Vince’s boots but Howard wants him taller. He looks around him and spots one of Monty’s small wooden boxes inside the cell. Well Monty wouldn’t mind would he? Why he’d probably encourage it!

Howard quickly unties Vince’s ankles and places the box in front of him helping the Deputy onto it. When he straightens up now the height is perfect. Lips lock against lips, chest against chest, stomach against stomach and of course cock against cock. Both men groan as the heat from their bodies sets their blood streams ablaze. They kiss hungrily, messily and uncoordinated as their groins grind against each other. Howard, one hand back in Vince’s hair, wraps his other arm tight behind Vince’s back and pulls them even closer together. The sound that comes out of the Deputy is near divine and Howard can’t help but thrust against Vince as he hears it. Vince thrusts back, eager and ready.

Howard separates enough so that he can get his hand in between. He lines each cock up against the other and wraps his huge palm around them. Vince lays his head upon Howard’s shoulder and watches as the Sheriff’s hand moves up and down, up and down along their shafts. The movement joins them together like never before, each one of them trembling and jerking against the other as Howard’s fingers massage and manipulate. Vince places a soft kiss against the side of Howard’s neck and whispers “that feels great” into his ear. Howard turns his mouth once more to Vince’s for a kiss before they rest their foreheads on each other’s shoulders, watching Howard’s hand move, faster and faster, and a little tighter.

Vince feels the pressure in his body rise. The pang in his groin grows again, but with more force this time having been denied already. His limbs tighten, every muscle yelling at him. Howard feels Vince tense, feels his legs straighten and his jaw harden against his shoulder. He hears his moans pitch up and turns his lips towards him, kissing the side of his head and allowing Vince to have his build-up. Vince’s heart is pumping furiously and Howard sucks at his pulse point, increasing the rate even more so. Vince tenses some more, takes a stuttery breath inward and then…

..Howard backs away.

“AHHHH! No, no, no. You can’t do that. You fucking can’t do that. Fuck Howard. Jeezus fuck! No.”

Vince near sobs into his own chest as his body struggles to cope with another near climax. His cock twitches, rock hard and red with wanting. He kicks the box away and finds the real floor, his leg muscles taut and aching. Eventually he lifts his chin, his hair a tangled sweaty mess around his face, his eyes unfocused and lips full and velvety.

Howard is having a hard time controlling his breathing too as he looks upon his lover. He’s continuing to stroke himself, giving himself plenty of pleasure as he takes in the full picture of what he’s reduced Vince too. He knows right now Vince hates him more than anyone in the world, but it’ll be a short lived thing. In a minute or two Vince will be thanking him.

“Please I can’t take any more.”

Concern suddenly changes Howard’s expression. He stops touching himself and rushes forward, lifting Vince’s face and brushing away the hair.

“Vince, are you alright? I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

Vince closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the Sheriff’s shoulder blade. “No I mean I can’t take waiting anymore Howard. I need to come. Please Howard, let me come.”

“Oh.” Howard rubs the back of Vince’s neck. “What say we move this to the bed then Little Man.? Next time I promise I’ll let you come.”

“Please yes.”

“And you’re not gonna run away again are you?”

Vince laughs. “Howard, I can barely stand.”

Howard laughs too and unbuckles each wrist, catching Vince as he slumps against him. He rubs each arm to encourage Vince’s circulation before gathering the younger man up into his arms and walking through to the bedroom.

“I think you’ve got a thing about carrying me Howard.”

“Well at least you’re conscious enough to remember it this time.”

“Cruel!”

“True!”

Howard lies Vince carefully down before kneeling on the bed at his feet to remove the young cowboy’s boots.

“Finally! If my toes curled any more inside of them I don’t think I’d ever be able to take them off again.”

Howard gives Vince’s feet a quick rub too before running his hands up Vince’s legs and stopping near his thighs. Vince watches him curiously.

“Howard?”

“I’m just thinking Vince, there is something else we can try.”

Vince cock twitches and makes them both laugh again. “Well he seems to like the idea.”

“It might be a bit weird for you.”

“A lot of weird stuff has happened to me this week Howard.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this.”

“Try me.”

Howard takes a breath before continuing. “Do you know much about a man’s pleasure zone Vince?”

“Pleasure zone. What sexual pleasure zone?”

“Yeah.”

“Well didn’t I nearly hit it twice out there.”

“No Vince, I don’t mean an orgasm. I mean a pleasure spot. A place on your body.”

“Well I’ve heard talk, but isn’t it meant to be, you know…isn’t it…up your jacksy?”

“Yes.”

“Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know for sure?”

Howard pauses again before replying. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

Both men are quiet for a second before Vince speaks. “Do you know how to do whatever it is you have to do?

“Yeah, I was taught.”

“And does it hurt?”

“Not really.”

Another pause before Vince speaks,

“I’m not sure I want your cock up inside me Howard. And I’m not sure I want mine up inside yours.”

“Oh god no! I wasn’t thinking that. No, no, that takes some time to prepare Vince, and a bit of skill. I was thinking, perhaps, that you might like to experience it though, say if I used my finger.”

Vince nods as he processes Howard’s suggestion. “And it will feel good yeah?”

“It feels fucking amazing Vince, especially if I do this at the same time.” Howard reaches forward and takes Vince’s penis in his hand again. He starts to move up and down ever so slowly.

Vince smiles at him and rests his head back against the pillow. “Can I do you at the same time?”

“Do you really want to?”

“Well I want you to have the best too Howard.”

Howard gives Vince a kiss on the knee. “Well yes, that’s nice and all, but you don’t have to worry about me.”

Vince wriggles and relaxes as Howard’s grip tightens around his length. “I’m not worried Howard, but I want to give you as much pleasure as you’re giving me.”

“Honestly Vince I’m happy enough watching you. Let me do this for you yeah.”

“Okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I should try and experience as much as possible before I die shouldn’t I.”

“Don’t say that Vince.”

“Come on Howard, I was only joking. Mmmm, that feels good. C’mon, let’s do the thing before I change my mind.”

Howard slides his body to the side of Vince, still stroking him languorously. “Right well it’s all about relaxing really. Lift your leg up like this.”

“This?”

“Yeah, well hitch it over my shoulder actually, that might be easier.”

“Okay.”

Both men look at each other before breaking out in laughter. “Oh for goodness sake Howard, what do we look like?”

“It’ll be worth it I promise you.”

“It better bloody be. You’ve teased me quite enough today don’t you think.”

“Right, keep your leg there. Good, now see I can still stroke you too.”

“Fuck that feels so good when you do that.”

“Well you’ll like this then.”

Howard continues to rub back and forth but he starts putting little twists in, extra pressure here, less force there. He uses his thumb almost independently, running it at every time across his tip. It’s not long before Vince is panting heavily again.

“I’m going to move back a bit now Vince to give me room. You still okay?”

“I dunno, yeah I guess. I feel like I’m unravelling.”

“That’s good, you need to relax as much as you can. It will feel really odd at first.”

Vince watches as Howard moves between his legs. With one hand he’s still pumping Vince’s cock and his other is in his own mouth. Well at least his forefinger is. He licks it thoroughly allowing saliva to dribble from his mouth before also gathering on it some of the liquid leaking from the end of Vince’s penis. He leans forward and spits, and Vince feels the warm splat of it against his rectum. The Deputy decides that maybe he doesn’t want to actually watch anymore.

He tips his head back, concentrating instead on trying to relax. He focuses on Howard’s hand, the now familiar pull and tug on his cock taking him ever closer to ecstasy.

Howard’s finger-tip starts to trace tiny circles around his opening and he can’t help but tense. Howard kisses his inside thigh.

“It’s okay Vince, just relax. Focus on my mouth and your cock and imagine that in a second my mouth is going to be around your cock, around you beautiful cock, licking and tasting and warm and firm.”

Vince finds Howard’s head and runs his fingers through the mess of curls, every tiny kiss and suck on his thigh sending bursts of fire through him. Howard keeps circling his hole with his finger, stopping every so often to add more spit, or more of Vince’s ‘stuff’. He feels as Howard’s finger pad starts to push ever so gently, feels as his body reacts on his own accord to say ‘no’, but then suddenly ‘yes’, he feels Howard stop inside waiting for him to relax some more, for his body to stop spasming, for his breathing to calm a little, and then wham!

Vince bucks upwards and Howard has to push his body back down to the mattress with force as much to stop himself losing a digit as anything. Howard brushes the spot again and Vince’s chest leaves the bed. His eyes fly open and his fingers twist tighter into Howard’s hair.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Your language has become quite appalling Deputy.”

Vince cries out as Howard moves his finger again.

“A lawman can’t be seen to be swearing all the time. It’s not good for our reputation.”

“FUCK!”

The Sheriff laughs and keeps his promise, engulfing Vince’s now inflamed member with his mouth and sucking hard.

Howard knows that he can keep Vince like this for as long as he wants, edging him and teasing him, making him think he’s close before stilling his finger and seeing Vince hit the floor over and over. He considers it, carrying this on for the rest of the day and all night, keeping Vince in a constant state of bliss until they are both exhausted, learning every one of Vince’s moans and sighs, his tells. Watching the man buck like that time and time and time again. He could, nothing was really stopping him.

Except for maybe guilt. Guilt and trepidation.

He was leaving town tomorrow. Saying goodbye to Moonstone for the first and last time. Hell if it wasn’t on a train then it was likely going to be in a coffin. The thought made him shiver, but not as much as the thought of seeing Vince inside one.

Howard removes his lips and looks up at the writhing form of Vince beneath him. It was time for him to take Vince over the edge. As much as he wanted to stay like this forever they had other preparations to make.

Howard moves Vince’s leg from his shoulder and shuffles himself further up the bed. Vince opens his eyes and sits himself up slightly to meet him, enjoying how the sensation of Howard’s finger inside him changes when he does so. Howard rubs the spot a little more forcefully and Vince barely manages to stay upright. He flings his arm around Howard’s shoulder to steady himself, turning further into him as he does so, and grabbing Howard’s penis in his own free hand. It’s Howard’s turn to buck.

They lock mouths again. Hard, wet, desperate kisses, moaning constantly into each other, sweat coating them, hair everywhere. Vince moves closer still. He’s almost sitting on Howard’s finger now, and Howard taps and rubs the spot again and again as Vince moves his hips with him, thrusting his cock against Howard’s thigh as he gallops along with these sensations, sensations the likes of which he’s never experienced before.

Howard ends up exploding first, the site of Vince in a total state of ecstasy with the younger man’s fingers wrapped around his cock enough to bring him home. He plants tiny kisses across Vince’s face urging the man to follow him.

“That’s it Vince. C’mon. So close, you’re so, so close.”

Vince buries his face into the side of Howard’s neck, his words reduced to just ‘fuck’ and ‘Howard’ between the gasps.

Howard put his lips right up against Vince ear and whispers, “I love you.”

And that’s enough. Vince hits his orgasm with the force of a buffalo stampede. He clings to Howard, sweat pouring off him, body all at once sharp and tingly yet numb. Howard wraps his arms tight around the love of his life, absorbing every sensation that charges through Vince’s body, committing every second to memory.

Vince and Howard come down slowly, holding each other tight, and breathing each other more than the air around them. Howard stretches out on his bed, every part of himself feeling brand new. Vince curls fully into him, draping his leg across Howard’s legs, his arm across Howard’s torso, his face still buried into Howard’s neck.

They lie in complete silence for minutes, each listening to the others breaths and their own heart beats hammering inside of them.

Eventually Vince sighs and plants a tiny kiss on Howard’s jaw. “That was fucking incredible.”

Howard chuckles. “Yes it was.”

“I can’t believe you know how to do that. I mean all of it. The bit earlier, that bit then, all of it.”

“I’m glad I’ve got you to practice on.”

Vince kisses him again and nestles further into Howard’s neck, suddenly overcome with tiredness. “I might have a little sleep Howard.”

“You go right ahead Vince. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Don’t worry I’ll stay with you until the end Vince. Until the very end, whenever that might be!”

---

[nextpage title=”Enclaves”]

Enclaves

Howard shoots awake and starts to fret before remembering where he is and identifying the weight against his chest.

Vince.

Howard breathes deeply and pulls his deputy tighter against him. Vince sighs in his sleep but does not stir so Howard risks placing a kiss on the top of the younger man’s head before raising his gaze upwards to the ceiling.

After so much pleasure and this much contentment the last thing Howard wants to do is to get on with the rest of the day, or early evening going by the light in the room. He wonders if he can get away with another ten minutes. Heck another twenty. Another hour? Exactly how long does it take to pack up a life anyway?

Vince sighs again and Howard softly strokes his hair to lull him. He knows Vince must be exhausted and doesn’t want him roused yet. The Sheriff smiles to himself. He can’t help it, he feels quite proud. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d find someone that would allow him to do what he’d done earlier to Vince. That he’d be able to successfully please another man like that! His smile grows broader as he allows images of Vince in the thrall of passion to sweep across his mind. There is nothing in the world that can take those memories from him, and nothing that could ever stop him from wanting to do it all again. Nothing, he supposes, except death.

He shivers despite the heat being emitted from the smaller body beside him. He doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to go there, but he is Howard Moon. He is an expert at wallowing in dark thoughts. Vince might have brought a huge chunk of the sun into his life, but beneath it all Howard is still a troubled and guilt-ridden soul. He knows the truth of himself, he’s not ignorant of it. And if he somehow manages to put Vince into danger again, well… Howard screws his eyes shut and pulls Vince closer… well he knows he would never be able to live with that.

Howard reopens his eyes and looks down at Vince. The Deputy’s eyelashes are fluttering, but aside from that he looks to be at peace. Howard smiles weakly and looks back to the ceiling. He thinks over what Naboo had told them that morning. It is so incredible a story, so outside of anything he’d ever experienced or could ever fully comprehend that he is scared to try and unravel it. But unravel it he must if he has any hope of regaining some control over the situation. Besides it is not just his own life in the balance here.

So exactly what had Naboo told him that he could understand? That he and Vince are fated to be together? Well, okay then. That their love is not love in the normal sense, but that it is important and necessary to the smooth running of everything that had gone before and is still to come? Howard isn’t so sure about that part. That their love is an intrinsic part of the Universe’s grand design? Honestly, he still isn’t quite sure he understands fully what the universe is. Oh he gets the stars and the moon and stuff, but other worlds with people like him on them! The whole thing sounds so ridiculous, so utterly absurd in his head.

But Howard, Sheriff Howard, is determined to keep going with his deductions.

Someone or something has been messing with the Universe, and is, for some reason, wanting to tip everything off kilter. And it was using him and Vince to do so. Keeping them apart for so many years had stirred up all sorts of problems in the cosmos and had eventually led to the Board of Shamen sending Naboo to help tidy the mess. The Universe along with its little ‘magic man’ had fought back, and he and Vince had finally found each other.

Trouble is this thing, this crazy something, had not simply given up and gone home. Oh no! It is still out there somewhere and as determined as ever to screw everything up for everyone else.

This is what Howard currently knows of the situation. But where does this crazy something start and end, and where does Bainbridge and Lance Parrot’s murder and the whole of Moonstone fit in?

Howard exhales slowly. Surely, as a lawman, and a pretty good one at that, the murder is the one thing he can actually solve in all this. If he can work that out then maybe it would go some way to helping him protect Vince. Howard forces his thoughts in this direction. Yes, if he can somehow sort the facts from the fiction, the nonsensical from the rational then it would certainly quell the foaming tide of trepidation within him. He thinks back over the events of the last few days. He starts to reassess the information in his head and map it all out.

He feels like it had all started when he’d gone to the cemetery to visit Tommy. Vince had been quick to track him down, but not before Bainbridge had beaten him to oblivion and Lance had stolen his clothes. But why had Lance stolen his clothes? Was it really for his family? Howard frowns. Probably. There wasn’t another explanation that made sense. He doubted Bainbridge had instructed it. But Bainbridge must have told Lance to meet someone at the railroad, why else would Lance go? But was the meeting Bainbridge’s idea or the murderer’s?

Howard feels a tightening in his gut, something that always happens when he’s on the brink of knocking pieces into place. To be fair it had been a while since he’d had this feeling, yet it returns to him now like a long lost friend. He takes another deep breath and shuffles carefully up the bed into a more seated posture, cradling Vince’s head as he does so and resettling it on his thigh when he’s comfortable. Vince murmurs, nuzzles his cheek against Howard’s skin and wraps his arm across the Sheriff’s lap before sinking back into slumber. Howard watches him quietly, his large hand resting softly and protectively against Vince’s nape. As Vince re-drifts away Howard moves it to the Deputy’s arm and softly strokes the lower part of Vince’s shoulder with his thumb, the gesture as much to soothe himself as anything.

“Right then,” Howard whispers aloud but very much to himself. He often found vocalising his thoughts helped to sort them. “Let’s run this through. Bainbridge had wanted Lance to meet someone at the railroad. I’m going to call this someone Cutthroat. Why though? Because Bainbridge was going to scare him or run him out of town? Why? Maybe he thought Lance had stolen from him, or maybe it was the murderer’s idea. Had the murderer wanted Lance dead and told Bainbridge to set up the meet. That is more likely than it being Bainbridge’s idea. Why would Bainbridge use such convoluted tactics, he’d just beat Lance into submission or man-handle him onto a train and out of Moonstone. So if Cutthroat set it up the reason behind it could be anything. Maybe Lance knew something he shouldn’t. That would make sense if someone was trying to hide his true self, or his true motives. Okay, so Bobby had also been there with a knife. He’d given the knife to Cutthroat as instructed to by Bainbridge. Fossil, purposely or accidentally, had distracted Lance as Cutthroat had come up behind him and, well, cut his throat.”

Howard pauses as he realises that this means that Bainbridge had organised the knife well before his run in with Howard at the cemetery. “He’d planned it all, way before he knew about Vince. That’s probably why he was at the cemetery the same time as me, he’d gone to tell Lance to be at the railroad. We thought Lance had abandoned his post, but Bainbridge had instructed him to leave. But did Bainbridge know that Lance was going to be murdered?” Howard didn’t think so. Naboo had said as much when he commented that Lance’s death wasn’t supposed to happen. Which meant that Bainbridge was probably as surprised to hear about it as Fossil was to witness it. And if he and Vince were right, if this Cutthroat had some sort of hold over Bainbridge, then no wonder the Mayor was keeping schtum. Not to mention he’d only be implicating himself in the whole affair. Bainbridge must have been smiling really wide when he’d heard about Vince and realised he had an alternative person to pin the killing on, especially after Vince had ran off. Of course he’d neglected to take into account Vince’s instant popularity and the fact that Howard loved him, but for a moment Bainbridge had succeeded in deflecting attention away from himself and from the real Cutthroat.

So Howard understood Bobby Fossil’s part, and could guess at some of Bainbridge’s, but who was Cutthroat, and why did killing Lance help to keep him and Vince apart? But of course it had, from the moment the body had been discovered actually, when Vince had offered to walk Ruby Dalston home. From that moment on it had been a constant struggle for him and Vince to stay in the same room as one another. They had become the unwitting rope in a tug-of-war between fate and foe!

Howard shakes his head. “But this Cutthroat, this cold-blooded murderer, are he and the foe one and the same, or is Cutthroat simply another person being directed?” As of yesterday Howard thought he was looking for a human killer. Today he isn’t so sure. But whether the killer is a manipulated human or a powerful monster with a human face he almost certainly lived amongst them in Moonstone. This meant that he could be identified.

As hard as it is the Sheriff lets his thoughts wander across the faces of the townsfolk. Who is not what they seem? The idea that it is a friend fills him with horror. He wants more than anything for it to be the callous actions of one of Bainbridge’s Boys but no, that doesn’t feel right to him. This type of killing is far from the Piper Twins style, plus being two of them they wouldn’t have needed Bobby’s help. Howard didn’t think Ralfe White had it in him and the rest of Bainbridge’s men seem too coarse to murder so neatly. No burning down theatres and fist fights were more their thing. He couldn’t rule it out completely of course, after all he hardly knew most of them, but something was telling him to look elsewhere.

Howard replays his and Vince’s conversation with Naboo through his head. “And so Bainbridge knows who killed Lance, but for whatever reason hasn’t turned him over to us. Which means it’s either someone who works for him or…it’s someone who Bainbridge can now blackmail.”

But there’s that third ‘or’… “Or it’s someone who scares Bainbridge.”

Someone who scares Bainbridge?

Howard strokes Vince’s cheek. A part of him wishes it is he that is able to scare Bainbridge but he knows that this could never be true. It is far too late for that. Besides he figures as murder suspects go he is the most unlikely candidate being that, you know, he didn’t do it and all. Who else can he rule out? Vince of course. And Monty. Well he reckons the actor scares Bainbridge a little, but a killer, never!

Howard rolls the names of the other townsfolk through his head. Chalky. No, he is too meek. Eleanor and Lucien? Eleanor definitely not, and Lucien seems too indecisive. The Tucker Brothers? Well both are handy with a razor, but this was a knife. He didn’t like it but they are possibilities? Miss Glister? Corky Hamilton? Ruby Dalston? Amos? All of them are totally implausible.

There is one name though, a name that creates in Howard a kind of heavy sinking feeling, a feeling which very much stems from the tightening of his oh so overactive gut instinct.

Doctor Neville Bamshoot!

Howard takes another deep breath and closes his eyes to help remember the Doctor’s involvement in the various incidences of the last four days.

He had been part of the mob that had come to talk to Vince before he ran, but then so had Lucien Hopkins. He had been part of the crowd that had gathered to watch Vince hang, but then so had Chalky. When Ruby Dalston had ran to the street to seek help after finding Lance’s body it was the Doctor she had come across first, but then the Doctor had been chatting with Monty. He was always there, but in a small town that was hardly surprising. Plus he had done a lot to help Vince and Monty. Well at least seemingly. Howard still thought it weird that the Doctor had left Vince alone during the theatre fire saga. That had really annoyed him at the time, yet the Sheriff knows he can’t convict a man on annoyance alone. He had absolutely no evidence what-so-ever that pointed to the town medic except…the Doctor seemed more, well, doctorish of late. Howard felt, that in the recent times, the Doctor had been a little absent. A bit like himself stepping back from sheriffing duties after his trauma the Doctor too had seemed less approachable, less professional, less together. Yet more recently he’d seen a change in the Doctor. He stood up straight again, had his medical swagger back. Howard, like his friends, had noticed, but figured it was none of their business. But…

“Is he whom he seems?”

Beside him Vince murmurs something unintelligible before stretching and slowly opening one eye. Howard smiles down at him and brushes away his fringe. Vince smiles sleepily back.

“You’ve let me nap for far too long Howard.”

“You needed it.”

“And you?”

“I’m okay.”

Vince rolls over onto his front and rests his chin on Howard’s leg. “What are you thinking about?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well I was thinking about Lance’s murder and what we said about it being someone who maybe scares or has power over Bainbridge.”

“It makes a sort of sense doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, but who scares Bainbridge in this town?”

Vince shrugs before pulling himself up the bed to sit next to Howard, pulling the Sheriff’s left arm around his shoulders as he does so and grabbing Howard’s right hand in both of his own. He plays with Howard’s fingers for a few seconds.

“Maybe it’s someone that knows something about Bainbridge, a secret maybe, something from the Mayor’s past.”

Howard brings Vince’s hands up to his lips and plants a small kiss on each before lowering them back to his lap.

“That’s what I’m thinking Vince. If someone was threatening him physically he’d just set the Piper Twins onto them. No, it’s someone with a stronger hold over him than that.”

“Have you any idea Howard?”

The Sheriff turns to look Vince in the eye. “What are your impressions of Doctor Bamshoot?”

“The Doctor?!”

“Hmm.”

“I don’t like him very much.”

“You don’t? Why not?”

“I dunno, there’s something a bit creepy about him I guess.”

“Is there?”

“Yeah, you know, something… offish.”

“Right.” Howard’s brow wrinkles in thought.

“So why do you ask Howard? Do you think it might be him? Do you think he might be our murderer?”

Howard clicks his tongue before responding. “I have no solid reason to suspect him. I’ve known the Doctor for years and have seen him work wonders on the sick. I’ve spent many an hour in his company and discussed many a topic. He’s a respected man in this town, respected and admired and trusted, and yet…”

“Yet…?”

“And yet Vince I, like yourself, feel something’s off.”

Vince nods. “There’s something about him.”

“Yes, there is.”

“Do you remember when we were at the Doctor’s house Howard, when we were outside and I was showing you the knife?”

“Yes.”

“Well do you recall the Doctor just appearing in the doorway? You know, I always had the distinct impression that he’d been eavesdropping on us. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now you’ve brought him up.”

“I hadn’t thought of that but you’re right. He was all of a sudden there wasn’t he?”

“It was a bit odd.”

“And Vince, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Before you were taken by Naboo back to his cave, do you remember what you were doing? Do you remember the Doctor being with you at all?”

“Sure.”

“And did anything strike you as weird about how he dealt with you?”

“Hmm, well he did seem like he was in a bit of a hurry?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, not before the town bell rang but definitely after it. He tried to get me to drink from his hip-flask, said it would help me sleep, but I could smell laudanum in it so I only pretended to take a swig. Again at the time I thought nothing of it, I figured he was rushing so he could go help with whatever emergency was happening. Plus I was too busy willing him to go so I could get Fossil and sneak away.”

“Laudanum though Vince! That’s pretty suspicious. And why do it secretly?”

“Dunno. Maybe it’s his way of administering it so it doesn’t taste so bad.”

“Or his way of making you easy to kill.”

“You think?”

“Well Bainbridge and company paid you a visit soon after, you know that don’t you?”

“Naboo said he saved my life, I assumed it was from the Mayor.”

“My god Vince.”

“But Howard, it’s all still theory. We can’t prove Doctor Bamshoot did anything wrong.”

“No, and hopefully we’ll be gone from here without having to ask him directly, but for the next few hours let’s keep our eyes on the Doctor shall we. Let’s prepare ourselves against any possible ‘interference’ from him.”

“Will do Howard. So what are the plans now?”

“Well now we get up and pack some stuff. Anything we can’t take we’ll arrange to have collected later or sold. We need to get some food into you too and then we go find Monty.”

“Should we tell him of our suspicions?”

“Nah, not yet. No point in worrying him.”

“Okay, but Howard?”

“Yep?”

“Have I got time to tell you that you’re brilliant?”

“Ha! Yeah, there’s always time to tell me that little man.”

“Really though, I mean it. You’re brilliant you are.”

“And you’re not bad yourself Vince.”

“Cool, then you’d better give me another kiss to show your appreciation.”

Howard smiles and leans in.

Dixon Bainbridge is pacing.

He’s pacing and scowling and sucking the life out of his cigar.

To the side of the room Charlie and Eddie Piper watch on, Charlie scrunching his hat between his hands, both men as nervous and they are tense.

Dixon stops suddenly and takes a long steadying breath before turning and pinning the twins against the wall with his gaze.

“Where?”

“The Hopkins’ House boss.”

Dixon clenches his jaw. “That meddlesome woman. Why aren’t I surprised?”

He takes another drag of his cigar, looking almost demonic as his eyes glisten dark and hooded through the heavy cloud of grey-brown smoke surrounding his head.

“Is the Sheriff there?”

“No boss, not that we saw.”

“Hmm, that seems odd. Although he’s probably playing nursemaid to his Deputy.”

“We ain’t seen either of them leave the jailhouse boss.”

“Still this reeks of Moon. He’s behind whatever this is.” Dixon moves to a side buffet and removes the stopper from a full decanter, but he pauses before pouring. “You said the Hopkins house?”

“Yes boss.”

“Who’s our smallest man?”

“Boss?”

Dixon turns and glares at Eddie. “Our smallest man, who is it?”

“Umm, Duke maybe.”

Charlie shakes his head. “Nah, Duke’s thin as a rake but Nutter’s the smallest. He looks like a fucking child.”

Bainbridge claps his hands together making the twins jump. “Nutter! Perfect! Eddie, go get him and send him under that house. I want to know what’s happening inside there. Tell him to clean his ears and find out as much as he can. That Eleanor woman has a voice that can uproot trees and Mr. Flange still thinks he’s on a stage most of the time. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Sure thing Boss. Anything else?”

“Yeah. Find out if Doctor Bamshoot is in there, quick as you can.”

“On it Boss!”

Eddie rushes out the door, eager to be free from Bainbridge’s attentions.

Charlie puts his now heavily creased hat back on his head. “What about me boss?”

“Get Mr. White. He can keep an eye on things here. Me, you and your brother are going for a ride.”

“Where to?”

Bainbridge crushes his cigar stub into the ashtray hard. “It’s about time we paid a little visit to a Shaman.”

Naboo is pacing.

He’s pacing and scowling and sucking the life out of his pipe.

Bobby Fossil is sitting crossed legged on the floor, his eyes shut.

“So you have the knife in your hand?”

“Yes.”

“Held out in front of you?”

“No, hidden inside my coat.”

“Okay, so you’re down by the railroad.”

“Yes.”

“And the knife is under your coat?”

“Yes.”

“Can you see anyone?”

“No, I’m alone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, wait! No! There’s someone here.”

“Where?”

“In the shadows.”

“Who is it?”

“He’s wearing a hat.”

“But can you see his face?”

“No.”

“What’s he doing?”

“He’s moving now.”

“Towards you?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing?”

“Walking towards him.”

“With the knife.”

“Yes.”

“Does he say anything?”

“No.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“What do you say?”

“I say the code words.”

“What are the code words?”

“Drum and Fife.”

“What? Really?”

“I don’t know what it means.”

“Well it means…never mind Bobby, what next?”

“He’s putting his hand out.”

“For you to shake?”

“No. He wants the knife.”

“And you give it to him?”

“Yes. Carefully. Handle-first.”

Naboo stops and crouches down in front of Bobby, laying a hand on each of the bank manager’s shoulders. “And can you see his face now?”

“I dunno.”

“Why don’t you know?”

“I…I don’t want to look up.”

“But you must, you must look up.”

“I can’t. I mustn’t.”

“Why?”

“He’ll hurt me.”

“Nothing can hurt you, you’re safe here. Look up Bobby, look up.”

“It’s too dangerous. I want to go now.”

“No Bobby, you must help me. You must help the Sheriff. You must help Vince.”

“Vince?”

“Yes.”

“I like him. He’s kind to me.”

“Yes, so can you help him?”

“I want to help.”

“So do it Bobby, help him now, help him by telling me who you gave the knife to.”

Bobby is rocking, his arms wrapped around himself, his eyes moving rapidly behind closed lids.

“I can’t, I mustn’t, I don’t know, I don’t know, please.”

“You can Bobby, you can do this. You can help Vince. Look up. Look now, look at his face. Who is it Bobby. Who is it?”

“It’s…”

“Yes?”

“It’s…”

“Yes?”

Bobby slowly raises his head, his eyes still screwed shut. “It’s…oh god why? Why you? Why is it you?”

“Bobby?”

“It’s him.”

“Who?”

“Him.”

“BOBBY?!”

“The Doctor!”

“What?”

“It’s the Doctor. Oh christy, it’s Doctor Bamshoot!”

Howard is pacing.

He’s pacing and scowling and sucking the life out of the end of a quill.

Vince is lying upon the couch, arms crossed behind his head and a soft smile upon his lips. “This is the third list you’ve written Howard.”

“It pays to be organised.”

“You’re making me giddy.”

“I need to get this right. I need to be able to convince them. I need to get it all down.”

“They already know most of it Howard. And you can’t convince them all.”

“But if I can show them, if I can remind them of every incident, every wrong that Bainbridge has done, then maybe they’ll agree to leave.”

“And maybe they won’t, but that won’t be your fault.”

“But I must try. I’m the Sheriff and it was my job to protect them. But I failed time and time and time again. This is my chance to reach them, to make it up to them, to help. I’ve got to get through. I owe it to them, to every single one of them.”

Vince jumps to his feet and rushes to stand in front of the Sheriff.

“Please, stop a minute. You’re chasing your brain around your head. Pause, take a moment.”

“There’s too much to do. There’s so many people, and some I haven’t even spoken to properly for ages, and so many must see me as a failure, and I don’t know how to change their minds, I don’t know if I can, but if I show them, if I can take the facts to them…”

Vince grabs Howard’s face between his hands and pulls it down towards his own. “Howard.”

“But Vince I…”

“Howard stop!” Vince continues to hold Howard’s face until the bigger man’s eyes properly meet with his own. Then he smiles and circles his thumbs around Howard’s cheeks. “Please stop.”

“I hate this Vince. I feel so useless.”

“I know, but you’re not. And they’ve seen that in the last few days, they’ve seen their Sheriff return to them. Have some faith in them, and have a little in yourself.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“That’s because you don’t see what I see.”

“What do you see?”

“I see a good man, a remarkable man, a man who would give his life for this town.”

“I don’t know if they see that.”

“They see it, I’m sure they do. I think you’re right though, for a while you did neglect them, but they neglected you too Howard. They let you disappear on them. But now you’re back and it’s made them realise what they’ve been missing for so long. And they’re happy about it. They’re happy to see you, the real you, again. Don’t underestimate how much they need you, and more importantly don’t underestimate how much they like you.”

Howard closes his eyes. “I’m so tired.”

“Well you haven’t slept properly in days.”

“No, I mean I’m tired of feeling this way, feeling so guilty and so ineffectual, but I’m not sure if I can change.”

“Come here.” Vince takes Howard’s hand and leads him to the couch. He sits him down and kneels before him, his forearms resting on Howard’s knees.

“I can’t click my fingers and make all the crap go away, but I’m here for you okay. We’re here for each other. I’m the one you can share your emotions with now. You don’t have to bottle everything up or suffer in silence. I’ll never not want to hear you. I’ll never turn my ear away, never my shoulder. Everything you feel, you experience, you fear, it’s all important to me. Nothing matters in my life as much as you do. What affects you affects me. We’re side by side. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

A single tear rolls down Howard’s cheek and gently Vince brushes it away.

“I mean it Howard. We’re a partnership now. Our future may be a little uncertain, but it’s a future we’ll face together.”

Howard nods and cups Vince’s face in his hand. “Together forever?”

“Absolutely! No question! Moon and Noir against the world!”

Howard nods again. “I’m sorry Vince.”

“It’s okay. I love you.”

“And I you.”

The men’s lips meet but they’re still, content to quietly breathe against each other rather than kiss. Vince eventually moves upwards from his knees, climbs into Howard’s lap and wraps him in his arms. Howard rests his head against his chest, Vince’s heartbeat calming him. The Deputy pulls him closer.

“I do agree with you though Howard. You should present the facts as you know them to everyone. You should try and convince as many as you can. But you’ve got to accept that change is hard and it’s scary and that many of them will not come with you.”

“I know.”

“And you’ve got to remember that Monty has already done his part to encourage them.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay then. So what’s left to pack up here? The quicker we finish the quicker we can get around there.”

“Should you come?”

“What choice do I have?”

“I don’t know. I certainly don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“And I don’t want to be here alone.”

“But how are we going to explain your health?”

Vince leans backwards so he can look at Howard properly. “I think I’ll pretend for now. I’ll wrap myself up, sit in the shadows, stay quiet I guess. You and Monty will have to keep Mrs. Hopkins away from me though.”

“Goodness, I’d hate for her or any of them to work out we’re lying. That wouldn’t help with the trust issues.”

“No, that wouldn’t be good, but we can’t tell them about Naboo can we?”

“I don’t know, maybe we should. Maybe we should tell them everything.”

“I don’t think they’ll understand Howard.”

“No, you’re probably right. Maybe we’ll tell them tomorrow when we’re on the train.”

“Yeah, well hopefully they’ll have met him for themselves by then.”

“So is Doctor Bamshoot there?”

“I think so.”

“You think so…THINK so!”

“Well I…”

“And what else?”

“Else Mayor Bainbridge?”

“Yes, what else. You’ve been under there for thirty minutes man so what else?”

“I dunno Mayor. Umm, I think they’re eating.”

“Eating!?”

“Yeah, and someone in there has a harmonica.”

Nutter doesn’t see the punch coming. He’s out cold before he hits the floor.

“Fucking useless piece of shit!” Dixon Bainbridge flexes the fingers of his right hand as he coldly eyes the rest of the men in the room. All edge ever so slightly backward towards the wall. He points at the smallest man.

“You!”

“Me Mayor,” stammers the man.

“Yes you. Step forward.”

The man takes a tiny step.

“You’re Duke is that correct?”

“Yes Mayor.”

“You got ears Duke?”

“Yes Mayor.”

“And a brain?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing standing here? Go get yourself under the Hopkins’ house and find out what the hell everyone’s doing in there.”

“Yes Mayor.”

“Oh and Duke.”

“Mayor?”

“Disappoint me and it’s more than a punch you’ll receive.”

Duke swallows. “Yes Mister Mayor Sir.”

“Good, now fuck off!”

Duke rushes out the door.

Dixon turns to Ralfe White who’s been leaning the whole time against the door jamb.

“You okay to look after this bunch of idiots?”

“Sure Mayor. I’ll scatter them around the place a bit, see if we can’t pick up on a little gossip elsewhere. We’ll secure a few extra weapons too and lay off the drink tonight.”

“Good thinking. If only everyone was like you White. Now me and the twins should be back in a few hours. There’s a good chance we’ll have a couple of friends in tow. Can I trust you to prepare the guest room, if you catch my drift?”

“Certainly. I will need the keys though.”

Dixon chucks Ralfe the set. “And make sure that Duke is ready with a full report when I get back. No excuses!”

“Sure thing.”

“Charlie, go bring the horses around. And Eddie grab a couple of extra rifles. We’re going to go catch ourselves a magic man.”

“Are you sure Bobby? The Doctor yeah?”

Bobby, now roused from his hypnotic trance, is deathly pale and rocking back on forth on the floor of Naboo’s cave. “Yes. It was him. It was horrible. No-one told me he was gonna kill Lance. If I had known that…”

“I believe you Bobby, and so will the Sheriff. But tell me, why did the Mayor use the Doctor? Why get him involved? Surely he’s enough men to use for something like that. Do you think the Mayor knew that Lance was to be killed?”

“All he told me was to get a knife and go to the railroad where I’d meet a man. He told me I had to say the code words which seemed weird but I was too nervous to fret on that much. The Mayor said he wanted to shake Lance up a bit. Reckoned fists wouldn’t be enough and that we needed to threaten his life. The Mayor suspected that Lance was stealing from him, but he couldn’t prove it. He told me to get hold of a knife so that we could give him a right proper scare. He knew that Lance would either admit to it, or that he’d deny it but then later move his stash. He told me to follow him if this happened. But it didn’t happen, none of it did. Doctor Bamshoot didn’t even ask him anything. He just got me to distract Lance and then he came right up behind him and he…” Bobby rocks harder, “…and he sliced his throat.”

“What did he do next? Did he speak to you?”

“No. He dropped the knife at my feet and walked away like nothing had happened.”

“But why did he kill him Bobby? Why risk angering Mayor Bainbridge?”

“I don’t know, I really don’t know. But you got that wrong Naboo.”

“Wrong?”

“Yeah, Mayor Bainbridge isn’t angry with the Doctor.”

“No?”

“No. He’s petrified of him.”

Naboo frowns in thought before crouching in front of Bobby and offering him a bowl.

“Here, have some of this.”

“What is it?”

“A little something to make you feel better.”

Bobby nods his thanks and brings the bowl to his lips, but before he takes a sip he softly states, “We’ve got to go straight to Moonstone now haven’t we? We’ve got to go warn the Sheriff and the Deputy.”

Naboo smiles feebly. “Yes. The Doctor is an unknown. He’s unpredictable and he’s clever. If he chooses to, well, he could cause a lot of damage very quickly.”

“I don’t want Deputy Noir to get hurt anymore.”

“Well we don’t want anyone getting hurt do we? The trouble is we’ve a bit of a hurdle to get around first.”

“What’s that?”

“My carpet’s recharging and won’t be ready for another three hours so.,” Naboo points towards his tiny horse, “…we’ll both have to ride Bollo together.”

“Was that a knock at the door?”

Howard sticks his head out of the bedroom cell. “Was it? I couldn’t hear.”

“I think so Howard yeah. Shall I…”

“No, just hang back a bit Vince.” Howard removes his gun from its holster and speaks through the door.

“Hello, who is it?”

No answer.

“I’m going to open it. Take your gun out and cover me yeah.”

Vince has his gun trained before Howard has finished his sentence. “Be careful.”

Howard quietly turns the key in the lock and edges the door ajar keeping himself well hidden behind it.

There’s no-one there.

Vince takes a couple of steps forward, his gun cocked and ready, as Howard pulls the door fully open and takes aim at the empty space on his threshold.

“Are you sure you heard a knock?”

“Yeah I’m sure.”

Howard takes half a step, then another, then another.

“Howard please don’t go out there.”

The Sheriff suddenly catches a glimpse of bright red hair ducking around the side of the jailhouse. “It’s alright little man, it’s just Lillian White.”

“Lillian! What the hell is she doing here?” Vince unintentionally clenches his jaw.

“Not sure. I’ll go find out.”

“Hang on a sec, I’m coming with you.” Vince picks up his jacket.

“You don’t have to.”

“Howard, I am not leaving your side for a goddamn minute you understand, not one minute.” Vince strides through the door, his boots resonating through the wooden floor. Howard follows.

Lillian White looks at the ground sheepishly as the two men approach her. Howard gently lifts her chin.

“It’s okay Miss White. We’re not that frightening, honest.”

Vince tuts loudly and receives a warning look from Howard. Lillian though unexpectedly reaches for the Deputy’s hand.

“I’m sorry.”

Vince thinks about snatching his hand away, but something about the look in the girl’s eyes stops him. Instead he moves his hand to her shoulder.

“As long as you’ve learnt something from it then I forgive you.”

Lillian nods vigorously. “I have. I’m so sorry. I didn’t. I never meant.”

Howard puts his hand on her other shoulder. “Calm down, it’s fine. Just take a deep breath and tell us why you’re here. Did your father send you?”

Lillian closes her eyes briefly before speaking again. “Yes. He told me to be very cautious and to make sure I wasn’t followed. And I wasn’t followed, I’m sure of that.”

“Good, great, that’s brilliant.”

“Yes, and he told me to tell you that the Mayor has made a move.”

“What move? Where?”

“He said to say that the Mayor and the twins have gone looking for a man in the desert, and he also told me to say that the Mayor has a spy hiding underneath the Hopkins’ house.”

Howard and Vince exchange worried glances.

“Shit Howard.”

“Yeah, shit!”

“We can’t let Bainbridge get to Naboo, or Bobby. Definitely not Bobby! He’ll kill him!”

“I know, but we can’t let that spy learn our plans either. Christ knows what he’s heard already. We’ve got to get over there now Vince.”

“What and grab the spy?”

Howard bites nervously at his bottom lip. “No, but we’ll certainly feed him some lies.”

“Oh yeah. Good thinking Howard. But what about Naboo?”

“For the moment we keep everything crossed that out little shaman friend can look after himself.”

Naboo pulls Bollo to a stop. “Someone’s coming.”

“Who’s coming? I can’t see anyone?” Bob Fossil grabs the little man’s waist that bit tighter and squints towards the horizon.

The Shaman closes his eyes before nodding to himself. “It’s the Mayor. He’s coming this way.”

“WHAT? No, no, no. That can’t be. He’ll kill me. What we gonna do Naboo? You gotta hide me please.”

Fossil slides himself ungracefully down Bollo’s rump to the ground. The horse snorts his disapproval. Fossil tries to conceal himself behind a skinny cactus.

“Well there’s not much I can do. There’s only one track and if we head back to the cave he’ll catch up with us before we get there.”

“Haven’t you got a trick or something? Please, I’ll give you anything. Anything!”

Naboo raises an eyebrow as if mulling over this offer before grinning widely.

“Come here Bobby, I’m going to make you dead.”

Lucien Hopkins is not surprised to open the door of his home to Howard Moon. “Good evening Sheriff, we’ve been expecting you,” and he invites the lawman in.

Howard declines a seat electing instead to stand before his closest friends and confidants. Well friends except for maybe Doctor Bamshoot who is sitting in the corner. Now that Howard has cultivated the idea that the Doctor may have something to do with the murder he’s finding it difficult to make eye contact with the man. He internally scolds himself though. The last thing he wants to do is alert the Doctor to his suspicions.

So Howard clears his throat and offers a smile to each of them.

“Thank you all for gathering here tonight. Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins for allowing us to use your home.”

Eleanor rises from her chair.

“You’re welcome Sheriff, but please what’s all this about? Mr. Flange is being rather vague on the details.”

“Yes, apologies for the secrecy but I’ve come here to explain everything to you. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and believe there’s only one course of action I can now take in order to keep everyone in this town safe.” Howard raises his voice. “Tomorrow I will arrest Mayor Bainbridge for the murder of Lance Parrot.”

Monty stands, his expression one of total surprise. “Since when did you decide this Howard?”

The Doctor speaks next. “Don’t be ridiculous man, on what evidence?”

“I have it.”

“You do? Are you sure?”

“Yes. I have Bobby Fossil.”

There a few murmurs around the room and Jean Claude stands. “Um Sheriff, if I may be so bold, I think it is a dangerous idea.”

Jack stands next to his brother. “Very dangerous. I think you’re going to get yourself killed by the Mayor’s men.”

“It’s a risk I’m prepared to take, but I promise to protect myself and Vince and Bobby as best I can. No-one else will be directly involved, and that means none of you.”

Monty shakes his head, “This is crazy talk.”

Eleanor puts her hand on Howard’s arm. “And you’re not a judge Howard, what sentence can you possibly pass?”

Howard hesitates in replying and Eleanor anxiously puts her hand to her heart. “Oh my goodness, are you are going to execute him without a trial?”

“No, no Mrs. Hopkins, I am not going to hang him. I will keep him locked up in a cell until a judge can arrive. Deputy Noir and I will guard the jailhouse against the likes of the Piper Twins for as long as it takes. But if the Mayor tries to escape then maximum force may be necessary.”

“But the Deputy’s hardly in a fit state to help you is he Sheriff?” The Doctor edges forward in his chair. “Plus I’m intrigued about this proof you claim to have. I hardly think Bob Fossil can be considered a reliable source. What is it you think you know?”

The two men stare intently at each other for a moment, the Sheriff determined not to give anything away but needing to read the Doctor’s expressions. The Doctor, it seems, is trying to read Howard too.

Howard looks away and at each of the other faces in turn.

“As I say I don’t wish to involve any of you so I will not share my evidence. But I’ve made my decision. Tomorrow morning I’m walking into The Bullet, I’m grabbing the Mayor, and I’m going to try and end his crap once and for all.”

Lucien stands to join his wife and puts his hand out towards Howard. “Sheriff Moon, you’re one crazy son-of-a-gun but you have my full support.” Howard shakes the outstretched hand. “Thank you Lucien.”

Eleanor sighs but then extends herself to full height to plant a kiss on Howard’s cheek. “I worry this will have terrible consequences, but if you think it’s what needs to be done then so be it.”

Jean Claude and Jack also extend their hands. “We don’t like it but we trust your judgement Sheriff. Godspeed.”

Monty looks into Howard’s eyes. “It’s bloody stupid, but you know I’ll always back you.”

“Thank you. Thank you all.”

The Doctor is the only person still seated. He slowly pulls himself out of his chair and stands tall, chin jutting somewhat.

“I’m sorry Sheriff Moon but I cannot agree. Mayor Bainbridge may have his faults but sometimes the devil you know is better than the alternative option. If you do this I will not interfere but neither will I condone. And in my learned opinion Bob Fossil is not fully sane. If I am ever asked that question by a judge I will be obliged to answer thus.” The Doctor puts on his hat and coat. “I must now leave as I wish to have no further part in these discussions. I bid you all goodnight.”

He strides from the room and out into the night.

The remaining occupants are a little shell-shocked. They stand in silence looking at the door as if unable to grasp quite what just happened. Only Howard is smiling. Lucien eventually notices the lawman’s strange expression and frowns at him.

“Is this some kind of a joke Sheriff because I’m failing to see the funny side?”

All the faces turn now to Howard. He puts his finger to his lips to indicate everyone to be quiet then whispers, “I’m sorry Lucien, I’m sorry all of you, but if you wait a moment or so all will become clearer.”

“Clearer?” Eleanor whispers too. When one person whispers it makes everyone else whisper too. She takes a step backwards to better study Howard’s countenance. “What’s going on Howard?”

“Please everyone take a seat. I ask for you to be patient only a minute or two more. Monty, maybe a round of drinks if you’d be so kind.”

“What you up to Howard?” He tops up everyone’s glass.

All retake their seats but remain staring at the Sheriff who finally takes a seat himself.

“Sheriff please. Why are you grinning?”

Howard raises a finger to hush the room again and tilts his ear to the left. The room holds its collective breath in nervous anticipation of the unknown noise to come.

A sharp tap, tap, tap at the window. Everyone jumps in their seats.

Howard smiles widely at his friends. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” He stands and exits through the door to the outside.

“Over here.” Vince beckons from the heavily shadowed area at the back of the house. Howard tiptoes across to him.

“You okay Vince?”

“Yeah fine. It worked a treat. You could hear every word you said clear as a bell, and the spy left straight after the Doctor.”

“Heading towards The Bullet?”

“Yep. And the Doctor headed to his house.”

“You weren’t seen?”

Vince rolls his eyes. “Of course not.”

“Good, that’s good.”

“So what now? I take it the Doctor’s lack of support told you something about whether he’s involved in all this.”

“Oh yes, there’s definitely a secret or two hidden there. I can see it so clearly now. But whether he’s our murderer I’ve yet to ascertain.”

“He was certainly in a big rush to get home. I still think I should have followed him though Howard. He may be up to something dodgy right now.”

“No way, it’s far too unsafe and we agreed not to split up again didn’t we? Besides right now it’s all about diversion. We need to get them all looking one way so we can rally and get out of town without incident.”

“I pray it’s that easy.”

“Probably not but it’s our best shot.”

“You going back in then?”

“Yeah. Time to put them out of their misery and explain the real plan of us leaving tomorrow. I hope they don’t think me a coward when I tell them I’m going to run rather than fight.”

“From what I heard I think it might come as a relief to them.”

“That would be nice. And I also hope they seriously consider joining us. But if not I’ll have to accept it. You and Monty are my main concerns.”

Vince gives Howard a quick kiss. “Okay then Sheriff hop to it. I’ll be out here hiding in an uncomfortable crouch position so please don’t be long.”

Howard winks. “It’s alright little man, I’ll massage those knots out of you later if you like.”

---

[nextpage title=”Unlocked”]

Unlocked

“Mayor, this is a very fortunate meeting I must say.” Naboo walks Bollo to a stop in front of Dixon Bainbridge and his two Piper muscle men. “This I believe belongs to you.” Naboo points to Bob Fossil who’s lying inert across the saddle.

The Mayor dismounts and passes his rein to Eddie Piper. He strides across to Naboo’s horse and lifts Bobby’s head by the hair, studying his face intently. He turns to Naboo.

“What happened to him?”

“I don’t know. I found him like this.”

“Where?”

“Outside my cave. I think he’d walked there as there’s no other horse.”

“When?”

Naboo doesn’t answer, he just starts to undo the straps that are keeping Bobby in place. Bainbridge is quick to stop him.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing?

“Giving him back to you. I don’t want him littering my doorstep.”

“Are you mad man?”

“No, I’m shaman.”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious about how he wound up dead?”

Naboo answers without expression. “No.”

“Not at all?”

“No.”

“Are you curious why I’m here?”

Naboo smiles, “I assume you’re after more owl beaks.”

Bainbridge flaps his hand in front of Naboo’s mouth. “Shush man, not so loud. That’s private business and not at all why I’ve come.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it’s all working down there for you now.”

“What, no it isn’t, I mean it is, no, what I mean is that’s not why I came to see you. I came looking for this man.”

“The dead one?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then, here he is, I’ll be on my way.”

Naboo turns as if to continue unstrapping Bobby’s bindings. Bainbridge has to stop him again.

“No, I mean I was hoping to find him alive not dead. He disappeared last night and I suspected that he might be with you.”

Naboo raises one eyebrow. “Well you’re half right aren’t you? He’s kind of with me.”

Bainbridge feels the frustration building inside of him. “Look here you tiny mystical freak, I want some answers and I want them now. How did Fossil escape my room, what’s he doing out here with you, and how is Sheriff Moon involved?”

Naboo is again unresponsive.

“Arghhhh, that’s it! Right you and you,” Dixon points at each of the Piper Twins, “Get Fossil down off that ridiculously small nag and strap him to the back of one of yours. And you,” he turns and points a firm finger straight into Naboo’s face, “You are coming with us.”

Naboo shrugs nonchalantly. “Sure, why not, I haven’t got much on anyway.”

Howard and Vince share a brief hug in the recess at the back of the Hopkins’ house before Vince asks, “So, how did it go?”

“Yeah, fine actually. Like you said I think they were mostly relieved.”

“I figured they’d rather not see you put yourself in harm’s way.”

“Guess not. Mrs. Hopkins started crying.”

“Oh.”

“As did Jean Claude.”

“That’s nice.”

“Is it? I feel quite guilty now.”

Vince gives Howard’s arm a comforting rub. “So what now lawman, back to the jailhouse?”

“No, I want to quickly check on my horse first.”

“You planning on taking it with you?”

“Maybe yeah, if the train has a suitable carriage.”

“I never asked, what’s he called your horse?”

“She, and she’s called Gideon.”

“Cool name.”

“C’mon I’ll introduce you properly. You didn’t get a chance earlier.”

The men discreetly make their way to the stables which are located at the back of Susan Glister’s dressmakers, a stone’s throw from the jailhouse. Howard sticks his head in first to make sure no-one’s present before urging Vince quickly inside and pushing the smaller man up against the wall. Before he knows quite which way he is facing Vince feels the familiar tickle of Howard’s moustache against his throat.

“Ha-ha, Howard stop-it. For Christ sake man you’re insatiable. We’re here for Gideon remember.”

Howard nuzzles below Vince’s ear. “I can’t help it. You’ve turned me into one huge randy mess.”

Vince cups Howard’s crotch. “Huge is about right.” He tilts his head back in a moan as Howard finds his pulse point. “And if you keep doing that then a mess is all that will become of me.” He grabs Howard’s head and forces him to look him in the eye. “Gideon first and then…” he looks around him and spots a wooden ladder leading up to a loft space. He looks back at Howard,”…then what say we test the softness of that hay up there.”

Howard raises one eyebrow. “Well to coin one of your phrases I’d say that was genius.”

Vince, smiling, kisses him on the lips. A horse in a stall to the left of them snorts and Howard laughs.

“That there would be Gideon. Reckon she might be a bit jealous.”

Vince stands on tiptoes to see over Howard’s shoulder but it’s too dark to make out much. He can see the outline of a horse’s head peering at them over the stall door though.

“She is, she’s staring at us. Ha-ha, that’s well funny. Didn’t realise horses got jealous.”

“Well we’ve been pals for a long time.” Howard turns and walks towards his horse. Gideon lowers her head to meet him and is rewarded with a loving tickle between her ears. “We’ve been through a lot her and I.”

“Maybe she’s not jealous then Howard, maybe she’s just protective,” Vince, having followed Howard to the stall, puts his hand out for Gideon to smell. “Hello there girl. You’re a beauty aren’t you? Thank you for looking after my man for so many years.” He strokes Gideon’s neck. “And thank you for helping him to find me today. I hope we can become good friends too.”

“She’s loyal Vince but I doubt she’s understands actual words.”

“Sure she does Howard. All animals do in their own way. You just gotta learn their lingo is all.”

“Their lingo?”

“Yeah, you know, their patter. Horses have a certain patter, as do lizards and dogs and sheep and bears.”

“When have you spoken to a bear?”

“Well I haven’t actually spoken to one yet, but I reckon I could if I were to meet one. Reckon we might click.”

“What?! Bullcrap! Now I know you’re pulling my leg. You don’t get on with bears Vince.”

“I might. I seem to have a way with animals.”

Howard looks at how Gideon is happily allowing Vince to plait her mane. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll leave you two in conversation then as I gather together her tack.” But Vince doesn’t reply. He’s too busy telling Gideon all about his steam punk band Clockwork Guns. Howard smiles. “Is there anyone he can’t charm?” he thinks to himself. But then his smile drops as he remembers the look in Dixon Bainbridge’s eyes as he instructed the Piper Twins to lynch Vince. There’s a man definitely immune to his lover’s charisma.

Howard hurries his pace along. “We’ve gotta get out of this place,” he says to himself, “Out, and as far away as possible.”

There’s a satisfying creak as Ralfe White leans back in Dixon Bainbridge’s office chair and puts his feet up onto Dixon Bainbridge’s office desk. He swirls Dixon Bainbridge’s whiskey in one of Dixon Bainbridge’s best glasses before taking a long sip. He audibly smacks his lips. Ralfe could get used to this.

On the desk in front of him sits a bunch of keys, the very same he’d smuggled out to Sheriff Moon. He picks them up and separates a long one from the rest. It’s the key to Dixon Bainbridge’s safe.

Ralfe White had spent a good thirty minutes, since the thought first popped into his head, contemplating the pros and cons of having a look inside the safe. And it isn’t the fear of getting caught delaying him now. He figures he’d hear Bainbridge long before he came anywhere near his office. No, he is fearful of where his opening the safe may lead. He is sure to find something incriminating in there, after all the Mayor was undoubtedly a criminal. What he has to figure out is if he has the courage to do something with whatever it is he’ll find, and the wits to do it without endangering himself and the lives of his family. He thinks of his daughter, his pride and joy.

But something is nagging him to do it. Guilt he thinks. As much as he puts on the big bad tough man act it is just that, an act. One might say that Mr. White had accidentally fallen in with the wrong crowd. Truth be known he’d always fancied himself as a lawman. Maybe if he can find a way to dissolve the Mayor’s influence over the town then he can help the Sheriff to run it right. That would make him happy.

So Ralfe stands and walks over to the safe. He kneels in front of it and without further hesitation turns the key inside its lock. He pulls the door fully open and peers in.

He sees the gun first. It’s an early little deringer with nice metal work and a very polished finish. Clearly the Mayor has an affection for it. In fact Ralfe suspects it’s never been used. Closer inspection reveals a small letter T and N crudely engraved on one side of the handle. Seems rather a shame that someone would ruin the look of the piece by roughly engraving their initials. At least that’s what Ralfe assumes the letters represent although, of course, they’re not the Mayor’s.

Ralfe puts the gun to one side as well as the stack of banknotes that he pulls out next. Then he grabs a bunch of papers. He unfolds the first. Something about the ownership of a gold mine. The second and third are about mines too. They look a bit too perfect to be real documents and Ralfe suspects they’re fraudulent. He puts them on the floor, refolded as they were and upside down so he can create a pile that when righted will be neat and in the exact same order as he found it. He studies the next pieces. There’s a bit more general paperwork and invoices, and a handwritten receipt for a hat and boots. The following iems however are rather more interesting, a short letter addressed to somebody called Dorothy, and a couple of photographs all wrapped loosely together with a red silk ribbon.

“To My Dear Dorothy. In another place, another time, things may have been different for us, but you know I could never be the husband you deserve, nor the father the boy deserves. I have to go. I have to keep moving. I have to follow my dreams. There’s a town out there, somewhere, which I know I can make my own. You’ve always been too good for me Dorothy, and I am doing you a favour in leaving. Now you can truly be with Peterson. I know you’ve always loved him more than me. Please don’t feel guilty, I understand. I think we both know that our hearts lie elsewhere, yours with him and mine to an open road and all the cheese tasting the world has to offer. May peace and happiness be yours forever and always. Faithfully and true. Thomas. Xx”

Ralfe studies the first photograph. It’s old, at least thirty-five to forty years and a typical example from that period of a mother and young male child. Strange though, the child seems to be sporting the beginnings of dark facial hair, specifically across his upper lip. “My god,” thinks Ralfe, “that looks exactly like a mini Bainbridge.” The second photograph is of the same mother and child but there’s a man in the picture too. It’s been taken in front of a heavily laden table and there’s a sign above their heads which reads ‘Bedfordshire Cheese Society’. The definition isn’t as precise as the other photo, but there’s no mistaking the stance of the man, the tilt of his hat and the glint in his eye. “Well if that ain’t Tommy the Cheese.” He picks up the gun and once more looks at those etched initials in the handle. Obvious now, T.N. – Thomas Nookah. “Well, well, well,” says Mr. White aloud. “Not the revelation I was expecting but interesting all the same.”

Ralfe tucks the last photograph into his inside pocket and after writing down the names of the three mines he places everything back into the safe as he found it. He’s just in time because as he’s clicking the lock shut there’s a voice from the outside hallway.

“Excuse me Mr. White, may I approach?”

Ralfe double-checks that the photo and list of names is hidden from view. “Yes Duke, come on in.”

The man sent by the Mayor to spy under the Hopkins’ house cautiously enters.

“It’s okay Duke, the Mayor’s out. He said you were to report to me.”

Duke visibly relaxes. “Yes, and report I must Mr. White. There’s bad news to tell. The Sheriff is planning to arrest the Mayor tomorrow morning for the murder of Lance Parrott. He says he has the bank manager Mr. Fossil as proof.”

“What proof?”

“He didn’t say precisely, he just said he had something.”

Ralfe frowns. Seems like a fairly rash course of action for the Sheriff to be taking, but then maybe Bobby has provided him with something so serious that Howard has no choice but to act. Then again maybe the Sheriff has a bigger plan. Whichever the case Ralfe has little choice but to play along until he can speak to the Sheriff directly. Meantime he’ll have to pass on the report to the Mayor once he returns. Of course he will. What else can he do?

“Any other detail Duke?”

“Yeah, the Doc didn’t like the idea much and he left in quite ill-tempered spirits.”

“Doctor Bamshoot?”

“Yeah.”

“And who else was there?”

“The Sheriff’s usual lot. Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins obviously, Mr. Flange and the barber brothers. Maybe a couple more but that’s all I heard speak. They didn’t sound too happy with the Sheriff’s idea, but they all said they’d support him, well aside for the Doc as I said.”

“How about the new Deputy?”

“Err, no actually, I didn’t see or hear the Deputy at all, but then ain’t he a little messed up. Probably he’s off mending somewhere.”

“That’s likely it Duke yeah, and thanks, I’ll pass it all onto the Mayor. You get yourself downstairs now, grab Sammy and keep an eye on the backdoor area. Tell Curly and Mickey to watch the front and tell the girls to remain in their rooms unless they hear otherwise. And tell everyone to keep their heads down when the Mayor arrives back. He won’t be best pleased when he hears this news.”

“Sure Mr. White.”

Duke scuttles away and Ralfe says to himself, “No you won’t be pleased with the news Mr. Mayor but I doubt a murder charge will stick. Fraud and corruption however,” he pats his breast pocket, “now that might be exactly what the Sheriff requires to do his job.”

“Howard,” whispers Vince, but Howard is too distracted with kissing the younger man’s now naked stomach and hips and chest. Vince pulls the Sheriff’s face up and towards him, but Howard simply takes this as a request to kiss him full on the mouth. He does so eagerly and without pause and the Deputy can’t help but to return the kiss with as much passion, that is until he remembers why he was trying to get Howard’s attention in the first place. He pushes the big man away from him. “Howard, stop, I think someone’s coming.”

Howard raises himself to his elbows, smiling as he catches sight of the many little spikes of golden grass that have attached themselves to Vince’s hair. He doubts Vince will find it as amusing.

“Hmm?”

“I said there’s someone coming.”

Howard rolls himself off of Vince and both men crawl quietly towards the edge of the hayloft. The peer over in unison.

At first Vince thinks he must have imagined it, but then a figure appears in the stable doorway, carrying a lantern low to the ground and looking left and right before entering slowly. It’s a man judging by the silhouette. He keeps to the shadows before reaching Gideon’s stall. It is here he lifts the lantern higher to peer around him and in doing so reveals his identity to the Sheriff and Deputy. The lawmen look at each other and smile. It’s only Monty.

But something about the furtiveness of Monty stops Howard from shouting out to his friend immediately. Vince gives the Sheriff a quizzical look and the Sheriff answers by putting his finger against his lips to silence him before he speaks aloud. Vince shrugs and pulls himself quietly closer to the edge, ignoring the sharp bits of hay that are pricking his still bare midriff.

Monty has moved past Gideon to the next stall, the one that houses his own horse Sunflash. Howard had explained to Vince earlier that the actor had done this ironically as the horse was old and slow, and if they did need to depart Moonstone in a hurry it would hardly be in a ‘sunflash’. Vince had laughed and said it would make a great nickname for himself. Instead of ‘The Electro-Kid’ he could be ‘The Sunflash Kid’. Howard had said he’d thought up many a new nickname for Vince but wouldn’t reveal any of them without ‘payment’. That’s where the foreplay and subsequent trip to the hayloft had started.

Monty, after giving Sunflash a reassuring pat, kneels and puts the lantern on the ground. He then lifts up a floorboard, takes something out and studies it closely before saying “damn.” He then puts it back away and leaves as covertly as he entered.

“That was weird.”

“Yes, really weird.”

“I feel bad watching him like that though. It’s obviously something private.”

“Yeah but Howard, we could hardly have spoken out once we’d let him come in. We’d have scared the poor fellow to death.”

“I guess.”

Vince retrieves his shirt and boots from the corner. “Are we going to take a look then?”

“We can’t, can we?”

“Well we are lawman and it was a bit suspicious.”

“But Monty’s a friend.”

Vince is already down the ladder. “Just a quick look.”

“Vince, I don’t know, what if it’s something awful?”

“It won’t be something awful, it’s Monty. If anything we might be able to help him, he looked pretty downcast when he left.” Vince drops to the ground near the spot Monty had been.

“Hang on Vince.” He descends the ladder in two long steps.

Vince is already removing the floorboard and lifting out a palm sized black onyx chest. It has strange markings along one side, almost as if another language. He holds it above his head to show Howard. “It’s locked. Maybe he’s lost the key or something.”

A light goes on in Howard’s brain. “The key! Of course, he’s lost his key. He doesn’t know I have it and I’ve completely forgotten to give it him back. Shit, how stupid of me.”

“I’m lost too now Howard.”

“I found a key in his room when I helped out with the fire at his theatre. Here look.” Howard removes from his inner pocket the small silver jewellery box he’d saved from the fire. He hands it to Vince who opens it and removes the key. He inspects it as Howard had already done.

“Shall we see if it fits?”

“See if it fits yes, but don’t open it. It’s not our business.”

He turns it around in his hands and gives it a slight shake before popping the key into the lock. He turns it to the right and the lock clicks open. Vince looks at Howard but the Sheriff shakes his head so he turns the key back again relocking the little chest.

“O Howard, I know curiosity killed the cat and all but what harm in a peek?”

Howard sighs. “You look, I shouldn’t.”

Vince doesn’t need telling twice. He rotates the key again and lifts the lid. Inside the chest is a small vial of bluish-green liquid. He pulls the stopper and has a whiff. No smell.

“What is it then?” Howard, somewhat stealthily, has moved behind Vince, “Is it, perfume?”

“Couldn’t help yourself either could you?”

Howard ignores Vince, takes the bottle and sniffs it himself. “Medicine maybe.” He gives the vial back to Vince who rehouses it in its box. “Couldn’t begin to guess Howard, but it seems more akin to Naboo than Monty. I wonder why the secrecy though. Have you known Monty to ever keep something from you?”

“No, I don’t think so. Clearly this is a very private matter for him. As a friend I shouldn’t pry any further.”

“But he seemed to be needing that key with some sense of urgency so without prying maybe you should give it back to him, and then maybe, without prying, ask him what it’s all about.”

“Nosy much?”

“Just lawman concern Howard?”

“Ha, lawman! Look at you.”

“Hey, I’ve done more law-manning in the last few days than most Deputy’s do in a year. Reckon I’m a natural.”

“Do you now?”

“Yes, and my lawman instincts tell me that we’ll find Monty at the remains of the theatre.”

“What makes you say that Vince?”

“Well he’s looking for they key ain’t he? That’s where I’d look.”

Howard kisses Vince on the bridge of his nose. “I take it back Vince. You’re a pretty fine lawman.”

“Someone get me a drink!” Bainbridge charges into the centre of his saloon and looks about. He spots Mickey standing by the window. “You! Pull these two tables together.”

The Piper Twins bustle in behind carrying the inert form of Bobby Fossil between them. Naboo follows quietly.

Bainbridge points to the tables. “Put him there for now.”

Upstairs Mr. White has heard his boss’ return. Making sure the photograph is still safely stashed in his pocket he walks to the top of the stairs and looks over the rail. He frowns in confusion as he spots the body of Bobby being laid out by the twins, and even more so when he sees the strange little man with a purple turban on his head. He looks like a character from one of the story books he read to Lilian years ago. He sees Curly pass the Mayor a full glass of whiskey, leave the bottle close by and wisely scuttle off into the shadows.

“Where’s White?” Bainbridge booms.

“Here,” replies Mr. White as he descends the stairs.

Bainbridge sees him glance at Fossil. “He’s dead!”

“Oh.” Mr. White doesn’t think it wise to question how or why. Instead he faces the Mayor front on. “I have news. It was worrying news, but now that Fossil is dead maybe not.”

Bainbridge downs his drink and pours another. “Let’s hear it!”

“Sheriff Moon plans to arrest you tomorrow for the murder of Lance. That’s what the meeting at the Hopkins’ house was about. He was telling his closest allies, running the idea past them.”

Bainbridge screws his nose up in distaste, anger thinning his lips and raging in his eyes.

Mr. White continues. “Everyone there agreed to support the Sheriff, especially when he said that he had Fossil as proof of your guilt. I guess that proof may not exist now.” Ralfe thinks of the names of the dodgy gold mines keeping the photograph company in his jacket. The Sheriff may really need those items now.

“So the Sheriff doesn’t know that Fossil is dead. Anything else?”

“Duke said the Doctor was there, but he left in a pretty bad mood. Seems he doesn’t think arresting you is a good idea, but Duke doesn’t know why.”

Bainbridge sucks hard at his moustache before finishing his drink a second time and slamming the glass down onto the bar. Surprisingly it remains intact.

“Does he really think he can come in here and put me in chains?”

“I don’t know Mayor Bainbridge, it does seem odd, but Duke was clear the Sheriff said it was happening tomorrow.”

“Goddamn him and his pride. It’s ever since that glamour puss Deputy arrived. He’s showing off like a peacock. ‘Look at me, the brave heroic Sheriff of Moonstone! Look at me and my newly found fucking confidence!’ God, it almost gives me cause to laugh.”

“What will you do?”

“Nothing! If Moon wants me he can come try and get me. I’m not going anywhere until he tells me why he can pin the murder on me.”

Bainbridge gathers the few men he has on site together. He gives them a brief overview of the situation, tells them that if any of them fuck up then they’ll be joining Bobby in the afterlife, and sends them off to various windows to keep look-out.

“And what do you want us to do with Mr. Fossil?” Charlie Piper, in an out of character act of compassion, has covered the ex-bank manager with a blanket.

“Give me a moment to think about that. There’s got to be a way to use him somehow. In the meantime show Mr. Naboo here to the closest quarters.”

The Mayor turns to his right, towards where Naboo was standing. He turns to his left. He spins three hundred and sixty degrees.

“Where the hell is he?”

“We were gonna ask you the same Mr. Bainbridge, sir. He’s not where he was.”

“Well where did he go?”

Charlie shrugs. Eddie looks under the table. “He’s not here boss.”

“I can see that you imbecile!”

“He’s pretty small ain’t he? Maybe he’s…” Eddie can’t think of where to suggest.

“For fuck’s sake. What is it about people disappearing on me in the last few days? How the fuck does it keep happening?”

“You want us to go out and look for him?”

Bainbridge rubs his brow. “No, to hell with it. We probably couldn’t keep him here if we tried. You both stay put until I can think of what I want done with Fossil. And arrange me some food would ya, I’m fucking famished.”

On the other side of the street there’s yet another angry man, but this one is quite alone. The Doctor, back from the Hopkins’ house, is furiously pounding around his own home, letting out his frustrations by ranting at the air, gesticulating at the walls and imploring the ceiling. He’s a figure far removed from the resigned rather aloof character known to the townsfolk of Moonstone. His voice carries around his rooms.

“I cannot keep this up any longer. It’s demeaning having to be so polite to people, having to listen to their petty ailments day in day out, bathing their wounds and festering sores, administering potions for belly aches and headaches and Old Dot’s hemorrhoids. Having to look interested when they list their complaints and afflictions. Trying to better others so as to hide myself amongst them. It’s exhausting. And what do I get in return? A coin here and there, food sometimes, whiskey. But it’s small offerings compared to what I give them. I give them their bloody lives back. I’m far too talented to keep playing Doctor. It’s time for me to have myself a career change.”

The Doctor begins removing the outer layers of his clothing, his overcoat, his hat, and his boots.

“It used to be so easy. You didn’t need to be so subtle. If I wanted to fuck with things I’d just pop-up, whisper temptations into the ears of kings, sweep away a few do-gooders and be on my way. Greed and ego did the rest. But it only bloody turns out that love is the most powerful force in the universe. Goddamn love! All this time encouraging man to kill man, thinking that was the best way, not paying heed to the fact that it was love and love-making and falling in love that’s been keeping everything in check all along.”

He removes his jacket, neck tie and waistcoat, rifles through a drawer in the reception room dresser for a moment before removing a couple of alternative garments. He hangs them onto a nearby coat stand before returning to the drawer and pulling out a long dark coat.

“So I’ve been searching for years for an opportunity to rip apart one of the big love stories. Shakespeare gave me the idea. What better way to create tragedy than by severing soul mates. So I made it my personal quest. I’ve been scouring the world through time and space for star-crossed lovers just so I can fuck them up. But try as I might to keep them apart they always seem to find a way to each other. Mary and Percy, Gertrude and Alice, John and Abigail, Hadrian and Antinous, Wallis and Edward, Grace and Prince Rainier, Mildred and Richard, Shah Johan and Mumtaz Muhal. And even if I successfully orchestrated one death they seemed to find a way to die together like Nicholas and Alexandra, Bonnie and Clyde, Marc Anthony and Cleopatra.”

He puts on the coat and raises the collar. He pulls a pair of gloves from the pockets and puts them on too.

“I’ve been lying in wait so long for this one. Patience has been my middle name. I’ve bided my time. Never have I worked so hard to keep two people apart, never have I employed such tact. And it worked for a while. Howard didn’t even realise he was meant to be in love, and Vince thought he’d fallen in love every other night with some groupie or bar worker or stable hand. Neither knew a thing until that bloody mail cart brought Vince to town. Someone somewhere made that happen. I don’t know how or whom, but my guess would be those fucking shamans.”

He opens his battered doctor’s bag and removes an amputation knife.

“Yep, it’s time for me to act alright. The Mayor won’t be much use to me if he’s arrested, and even if he’s not he’ll be weakened. I need to get myself a new couple of lackeys. One or two morons to do all the heavy lifting. I’m not as young as I used to be, although I can’t really remember when that was.”

“Told you.” Vince points to the silhouette they can both see standing in the middle of the cindered shell of the theatre.

“How does he expect to find anything in the dark?”

“Guess he’s desperate.”

Howard looks at the small jewellery box. “Yes, well hopefully we can help him out there. Although we don’t push him okay Vince. If he doesn’t want to tell us what this is then we leave it alone. It’s his prerogative.”

“Of course.”

The men make their way over to Monty.

“Hi old friend. Are you okay?”

Monty turns around. “Howard, Vince, what are you doing out?”

“Looking for you. I’ve something I need to give you.” Howard holds out his hands, the black chest in one and the silver jewellery box holding the key in the other. “I’m sorry, we were in the stables. We saw you and I remembered that I had pocketed the box with the key when I helped with the fire. It had slipped my mind.”

Monty reaches out to take each. “Thank you.”

“We are sorry Monty,” Vince steps forward and puts his hand on Monty’s elbow. “We were, well I was, in a state of undress in the stables and we didn’t make ourselves known. We probably should have. We weren’t intentionally spying, not really.”

Monty nods. “It’s okay. Kind of glad you saw me actually. I’ve been wondering if, with everything else going on, I should tell you about this.” He holds up the bigger box. “Did you look inside?”

Both Howard and Vince hang their heads.

“That’s what happens when you’ve lawmen for friends, they can’t help but investigate.” Monty smiles. “Come on you two, don’t feel guilty, I’m not angry.”

“You don’t have to divulge anything Monty. It’s none of our business.”

“Well it kind of is actually and I think now’s the time to come clean.”

Monty picks up his cane that’s leaning against a blackened heap of wood and looks around him, sadness etched across his face. “I’ve quite a bit to tell you both, but I guess it is back to yours as mine isn’t as welcoming as it once was.”

Naboo, tucked up against the side of the Salty Bullet, sees Howard, Vince and Monty walk past him towards the jailhouse. He keeps to the shadows not wanting them to spot him. He’s work to do first.

Howard welcomes Monty into his home as he has done hundreds of times before, but this time feels very different. He lets Monty sit on the couch, himself pulling up a wooden stool. Vince places himself against the window sill, sensing perhaps that Monty’s story was more for Howard than for him.

“Would you like a drink Monty?”

Monty chuckles, “No my boy. The only thing I need to drink is this.” He unlocks the black chest and removes the vial. Pulling out the stopper he smiles at them both sheepishly before taking a large swig. “It will work in a moment.” He puts the vial, now empty, back into its receptacle.

“What will work?” Howard’s face shows both worry and concern, until that is, it shows surprise. Right there, in front of him, Monty’s face seems to be ageing. There’s suddenly extra wrinkles around his eyes, aside his mouth and across his forehead. His eyelids droop a little more, the skin under his chin seems to sag, and sun spots appear on his right temple.

“What the…?” Vince too cannot believe what he is seeing. “Monty, what the hell’s happening to you?”

Monty runs his hands across his face as if to check everything important is still in its place. “I’m staying old Vince.”

“Staying?” Howard pulls his stool right in front of Monty and grabs his friend’s hands. “What is going on?”

Monty squeezes Howard’s palms. “I haven’t been completely honest with you my boy, but if you’d do me the courtesy of listening to my tale then it will help things become clearer.”

Howard nods.

“A while ago I too met a magic man, a shaman, except mine wasn’t as you’ve described yours. Mine was tall and slim with dark skin and curly black hair. He was gorgeous actually. Very exotic. And like Vince was rescued by your shaman, I was rescued by mine. I was rescued from an attempted murder carried out by none other than our mayor and the old preacher Red O’Reilly.”

“What are you saying Monty, that Bainbridge tried to kill you? When? And why have you never said?”

“I couldn’t say. You see, it was not me they were trying to murder. At least not me in my present form. It’s hard to explain, and I’m not sure I should given the current relationship between you and Vince.”

“Monty!”

Monty sighs, “Do you remember Gregory, Howard?”

Howard sits upright. “Yes, of course, the young man at the church. I told you about him. I’ve told Vince too.”

“Well Howard, you needn’t have told me about him because I already know everything. I am Gregory.”

Back inside the Bullet Ralfe White is eager to get away from the saloon and hand the items in his pocket over to the Sheriff. “You want me to go and round up some more men?”

“That sure wouldn’t hurt.”

“Well okay then.” Ralfe White strides to the door and quickly exits, breathing a sigh of relief as he does so. He pauses for a moment to make sure the Mayor isn’t yelling after him, but all is quiet so he dashes away.

Doctor Bamshoot’s house is along from the Bullet on the same side of the street so Naboo’s able to stay in the cover of the buildings as he makes his way to it. He pauses next to a water barrel besides the Doctor’s porch and ducks down. Even from outside he can make out the Doctor talking. He assumes, at first, that someone is in there with him, but quickly realises there’s only one person he can hear. Quite the monologue by the sounds of it. Naboo rolls his eyes, typical of a psychopath, loves the sound of his own voice.

As he hides he sees Mr. White heading towards the jailhouse.

Bainbridge calls the Piper Twins over to him. “I have an idea. It’s not up to my usual standards, but if the Sheriff and co turn up here tomorrow Fossil has to be nowhere in sight. I want you two to dump him somewhere.”

“Where boss?”

The Mayor sneers. “I first thought of that meddling Mrs. Hopkin’s dwelling. Would love to freak her and her pathetic husband out. Imagine the smell wafting through the place and then them discovering Fossil under their house. Hah! That would be satisfying.”

“Will he fit under there boss? He’s larger than Duke or Nutter.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’ve changed my mind. We need to get rid of Fossil completely. And do you know the best way to get rid of a body, boys?”

“Boss?”

“Feed it to the pigs.”

“Eurgh! Really?”

“Yep. It’s the only answer. Take him, the both of you, strip him and dump him in the sty of those two huge hogs that Curly owns. Then burn his clothes.”

Charlie looks across at the table where Fossil lays beneath the blanket.

“Just the two of us? He’s pretty heavy boss.”

“The fewer who know the better. Now get on with it and stop your whining. Anyone would think I’d asked you to do something completely unreasonable.”

Bainbridge charges away from them and bounds up the stairs. “Have it done within the hour. I need you back here pronto.”

Charlie and Eddie look at each other and shrug.

“Guess we go feed the swine then”

“Out the back way brother and along the railroad. No one will be down there where Lance was killed.”

“Okay, we’ll carry him in the blanket then burn that too.”

In the jailhouse Howard’s mouth has dropped open. “You’re Gregory?!”

“After that day in the church O’Reilly beat me something rotten. He locked me in a trunk he kept in his sacristy and I felt I would suffocate. He wanted rid of me, saw me as tainted, and could no longer bear the sight of me. Bainbridge visited and I could hear them talking about me, about how a dead body would affect their holy wine business and how they didn’t want the law snooping around.”

“Holy wine business?”

“Yeah, Red and Bainbridge had some scam going there, not to mention a blatant misappropriation of church donations.”

“Gone on with your story, please Monty.”

“So Red and Bainbridge hatched a plan to dump me in the lake. They bound and gagged me and put me back in the trunk and loaded it onto a cart. I bounced around in there for a while, eventually felt the trunk being heaved to the ground and dragged along the floor. And then, before I knew it, water started seeping through the floor and the sides. Thank goodness it was well made, its finish kept the water at bay for some time and long enough for me to be rescued.”

“My god Monty. Or should I call you Gregory?”

“Monty it must be nowadays Howard. Gregory died that day in the trunk.”

Vince seats himself at the other end of the couch, hanging on Monty’s every word. “But you didn’t die.”

“Not as such. My shaman saved me. He must have been hanging around and I think he saw everything. To this day I don’t know how he pulled the trunk from the lake. I was a bit of a mess as you can imagine. He lit a fire and gave me some clothes which didn’t fit me at all but they kept me warm. He was kind although a little sullen. Mostly though he was annoyed.”

“Annoyed at Bainbridge and Red?”

“No. That was the weird thing. The attempted murder didn’t seem to interest him at all. It was as if saving me was just another of life’s daily occurrences to him. No, he was annoyed about being sent on a ridiculous mission with a ballbag and a deranged party boy. I had no idea what he was talking about, I still don’t, but when I brought up the issue of where I was going to go, as I couldn’t return to Moonstone and risk being seen, it was like an idea planted itself in his head. Then and there he handed me this vial and told me to drink it. My head fogged up in a dark green mist and when I came to I had grey hair, broken blood vessels and a posh English accent. I was Monty.”

“And the Shaman?”

“He gave me the very precise instruction to return to Moonstone, take up residence somewhere, and look after you Howard until my dying day. He gave me quite a bit of money, some food and this magic potion. Told me to hide the vial somewhere other than where I lived. So that’s what I did. I set myself up in the theatre as an aging actor, and a few days later came knocking on your door.”

“With the whiskey and bacon and beans. Howard’s told me that story. I can’t believe what you’ve been through though Monty. How have you coped? You lost all those years in the blink of an eye.”

“Better than drowning in the lake. And I’ve made the best of friends out of it.” He smiles at Howard.

Howard shakes his head. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe your Gregory.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry I’ve not told you sooner, but I was sworn to secrecy.”

“And because of that you’ve never been able to bring justice to Red and Dixon.”

“Well old Red died pretty soon after. And as for Bainbridge, I’ve always had faith you’d get him in the end Howard.”

“And Bainbridge never suspected anything about you?”

“No. I paid him rent for the lease of the theatre, bought whiskey at his bar, became one of the townsfolk. He’s never questioned it.”

“What happens if you don’t take the potion?”

“I’m not exactly sure on that one, but if I’m late having any then I can feel my features sort of fading away. The Shaman told me to never stop so I haven’t. And I like being Monty anyway.”

“How often do you have to drink and where do you get more from?”

“About once a month and it replenishes itself when I’m not looking. Incredible stuff. Comes from somewhere called the Well of Antiquity I was told.”

“It does explain why these recent events aren’t phasing you at all.”

“Once you’ve seen what a shaman can do then it’s hard to be surprised by anything else really. It’s certainly not surprising to hear about this Babolisk Oil that fixed Vince.”

A sudden knock at the door makes them all jump.

Finally the light in the front room of the Doctor’s house is extinguished and the physician exits his front door carrying his medical bag. Naboo quickly whips off his turban so he’s not seen peeking over the top of the barrel. The Doctor seems unsure which way to head. He leans over the front of his porch rail and looks left and right a few times. He sniffs the air.

“Weirdo,” whispers Naboo to himself.

From nowhere comes the sound of voices. Their origin seems to be behind them somewhere, at the back of and beyond Doctor Bamshoot’s house. It’s as if they’ve been carried on the wind.

“Result!” The Doctor grins, leaps off of his porch and is around the side of his home in a flash. Naboo thinks about following, but it’s too good an opportunity for a quick search of the Doctor’s house. He pricks his ears but there’s no sign of the Doctor returning so he replaces his turban and makes quick work of the locked door.

Once inside he starts to head right to the back. Evil goings on are rarely conducted in the front reception rooms. He does however notice and few items of clothing chucked onto the bench where a bereaved Mrs. Parrot had sat not long ago with Mrs. Hopkins. There’s also a coat stand behind the door that interests him. It only holds two garments, a black silk top hat and red woollen scarf. Naboo touches the scarf and nods. He then looks in to what he assumes is the Doctor’s surgery. Nothing untoward there. But at the end of the corridor on the right is another door leading into sleeping quarters, and it is here that Naboo spots and large black trunk. It seems out of place, positioned as it is right in the centre of the floor. He opens the lid slowly and a bright red light fills the room. He can just about make out a short set of stairs descending into the crimson murk.

“Here goes nothing,” he mutters to himself as he climbs down into the trunk. “Things I won’t do to save everyone.”

Howard, Vince and Monty all stare at the door as if it will open itself. The knock comes again.

“Shit, who’s that now?” Vince makes towards it.

“Hang on Vince, I should go.”

“Howard, I think I can open a door. It’s probably Mr. Hopkins or someone.”

Howard pushes Vince out if the way and puts his hand on the handle. “Who is it?”

“It’s Ralfe White. Can I come in?”

“Not a great time Mr. White.”

“It’s important. And I don’t want to be seen here on your doorstep.”

Howard looks at Vince. “Do you want him inside?”

Vince swallows. “Can we trust him?”

“I’m pretty sure, yes. I’m sorry, I know what he did to you, but I think we should let him in.”

Vince nods and turns away. Monty stands and puts his hand on Vince’s shoulder in support.

“Please Sheriff, I’ve a bit to tell you.”

Howard opens the door. “Come on in then.”

Ralf crosses the threshold, looking about as meek and humble as a man can look.

Vince turns to face him and breathes out heavily. “Mr. White.”

“Deputy.”

Monty looks at each of them, “Have you not seen each other since…?” His words ebb away.

Vince and Ralfe shake their heads.

“Oh. Maybe I should go then.”

“But Monty, we haven’t finished have we? There’s so much more to discuss.”

“Yes Howard but not now. This needs to happen now,” he gestures towards Mr. White, “And besides Mrs. Hopkins is expecting me back.”

“But Monty…”

“Howard, please.” Monty goes up to Howard and draws him into a hug. The bigger man succumbs and they two embrace.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow no doubt.” Monty winks at Vince. “All the best lad.”

Vince gives a weak smile as Howard sees his friend to the door. “I’ll be around in the morning then Monty to give you a hand with whatever it is you have.”

“Sadly not that much anymore Howard. He signals towards Vince. “He’ll be okay do you think?”

“Hope so.”

“Okay, good, well until tomorrow then.” He gives Howards arm one more squeeze before leaving in the direction of Mr. and Mrs. Hopkin’s house.

Howard sighs and turns back to his other visitor. “Won’t you take a seat Mr. White?”

Ralfe nods and sits himself down on the couch. Vince, still standing, takes a step back. Ralfe notices. He removes his hat and looks Vince in the eye. Vince notices the bruising around the bridge of Ralfe’s nose, remembers it’s he that caused it. He thinks of the Babolisk Oil that has cured him and wonders what Ralfe is thinking, seeing him standing in good health before him.

Ralfe is certainly thinking that the Deputy looks remarkably well considering. “I am so sorry Deputy Noir. I’ll never forgive myself.”

Vince keeps his gaze steady. “I’ll find it hard to forgive you too, but I know there were mitigating circumstances.”

Ralfe nods, “My daughter being one of them, but that’s just an excuse. I acted atrociously and you could have died because of me.”

Vince rubs his eyes. He inhales then exhales loudly. “I’ve nothing more to say on the matter. Honestly, I’d prefer not to relive it.” Vince grabs the wooden stool and seats himself up against the far wall. “Howard says I should trust you and so I will. Why are you here?”

Ralfe nods again in understanding and pulls the photo and paper from his inside pocket. “A couple of things.” Howard seats himself at the other end of the couch as Ralfe passes him the items. “I got these from the Mayor’s safe whilst I was minding the Bullet earlier.”

“He gave you his keys?”

“Ironic right! The same set I stole for you, he just handed them over. He depends on me a lot of late.”

“Anything else in the safe but for these?”

“Yeah, the usual cash, documents, a gun. The gun is significant actually, it relates to this.” He plucks the photo from Howard’s hands to show him properly and points to Tommy. “See who it is?”

Howard squints, “That’s Tommy!”

Vince reaches out his hand and Howard passes him the photo, “As in Sheriff Tommy, your old friend?” Vince studies the image and passes it back to Howard. “Who’s the woman and kid?”

“Pretty sure that’s Mayor Bainbridge with his mother…and father.”

Howard grabs the photo again and scrutinises it closely. “Why do you say that?”

“There were letters in the safe too, letters from Tommy to some woman called Dorothy. They spoke of their child, a boy. And Tommy also spoke of Dorothy having another man in her life, someone she could be happy with. There was another photograph too, a better image of the same mother and child, and the child looks exactly like Dixon Bainbridge.”

“And the gun? You said it had significance.”

“The Mayor has it hidden in his safe like a keepsake. It has the initial TN carved into the handle.”

“Thomas Nookah.”

“That’s what I thought, yes.”

Howard views the photo again. “Tommy never mentioned anyone called Dorothy, but that’s definitely Tommy.”

“So Tommy was Bainbridge’s father?” Vince looks at Howard and sees his significant other trying to hold it together. “Howard, look at me.”

Howard looks up.

“You okay?”

Howard takes a breath. “I dunno. It’s a bit of a shock.”

“What else you got there?”

Howard unfolds the piece of paper with the three mine names written on it. “What’s this?”

“Extra ammunition for you should you want to investigate the Mayor’s business dealings. There were deeds and claims to a few mines and land, but these three names looked particularly crooked. Their paperwork didn’t seem legitimate.”

“There’s a lot here Mr. White, a lot for us to get our heads around.” Howard stands as if to call the conversation to a close.

Ralfe stands too, “I’m sorry Sheriff, but that’s not the end of it. There’s something else. I’m not quite sure how to tell you.”

Vince stands to join them. “Spit it out Mr. White.”

Ralfe puffs his cheeks. “It’s Bob Fossil. I’m afraid to tell you he’s dead.”

Charlie and Eddie Piper are struggling to carry the body of the aforementioned Bob Fossil at the very moment Mr. White says his name in the jailhouse. They’re arguing over who has the heaviest end.

They do not notice a figure watching them from the shadows.

“What do you mean? How?”

“I’ve no idea. The Mayor and the twins carried his body into The Bullet earlier. The Mayor didn’t say what had happened and I didn’t ask. There was a strange little fellow with them too, but he disappeared.”

“Naboo?”

“Sounds right, yeah. Think one of them called him that.”

Howard picks up his gun and slips it into his holster. He starts to pull on his coat.

“What you doin’ Howard?” Vince grabs Howard’s empty coat sleeve. “You’re not going over there?”

Howard tugs the sleeve from Vince’s grasp. “Damn right I’m going over there. They’ve murdered Fossil. I’ve got to go, it’s my job.”

Ralfe steps in front of the jailhouse door, effectively blocking the way, “I never said the Mayor murdered him Sheriff. I’m pretty sure he didn’t in actual fact.”

“But how then?” Howard’s voice has escalated in pitch. “Fossil was in perfect health but hours ago. How?”

“Did Naboo say anything Mr. White?”

“Nope, don’t remember him saying a word.”

“And Fossil’s in The Bullet now?”

“Laid out on a table but I doubt he’ll be there long. The Mayor will move him somewhere, especially as he knows you’re going to try and arrest him tomorrow. Although are you, now that your key witness is dead?”

Howard removes his coat, “Shit, you’re right, Fossil was my witness. Not that I was really going to arrest Bainbridge.”

“You’re not?”

“No, that was just a bullshit lie. We knew there was a spy under Mr. and Mrs. Hopkin’s house. We made that up to cover the fact that a load of us are going to try and leave Moonstone in the morning. Howard gestures to some bags and a crate behind him, ‘See, all packed.”

“You’re escaping?”

“Escaping, moving on, surviving, running away. Call it what you will.”

“Right, I see. So you don’t have anything on the Mayor then?”

“Well I was hoping to take Fossil with us and have him testify to a judge on the murder of Lance Parrot, but now…” Howard turns to his deputy, “Fuck Vince, you don’t think Bobby did away with himself do you? You don’t think fear drove him to suicide?”

“Dunno Howard. Is that possible Mr. White?”

Mr. White shrugs, “I guess so, but it could just as easily have been his heart or something. Maybe Doctor Bamshoot will shed some light on it.”

At the mention of the Doctor’s name Howard asks, “Was he at The Bullet tonight at all?”

“Who, the Doctor? Not that I saw. Why?”

“Oh. No reason. Just wondered?”

“Duke said he left the Hopkin’s place in a hurry earlier. You lot had a falling out?”

“Difference of opinion is all. Well that, and he’s acting a bit suspiciously.”

“He’s a bit creepy isn’t he?”

Howard frowns, “What makes you say that Mr. White?”

“The way he hovers around. And I’ve seen him in corners with the Mayor a couple of times. All very hush-hush, you know.”

“Recently?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Before Lance was killed?”

“That very morning I believe, before the Mayor went to the cemetery.”

“Why did he go to the cemetery?”

“I assumed to see Lance about something.”

“Immediately after speaking to the Doctor?”

“Shortly after, yeah. It was quite early in the morning.”

“Did you know that the Mayor attacked the Sheriff outside the cemetery on that same morning?” Vince can’t help the anger in his voice.

“I did hear that.”

“Do you know why?”

Ralfe shakes his head.

“Do you know why Lance stole Howard’s clothes?”

“Nope, I didn’t know he had.”

“Do you think Bainbridge knew? Do you think he instructed it?”

“No, not at all! Why would he get Lance to steal your clothes? But the Mayor did think that Lance was stealing from him.”

“Did he? Why did he think that?”

“Pretty sure the Doctor had mentioned something. I don’t know any details, the Mayor told me he thought as much. That’s what I figured he was going to confront Lance about, especially because he took Sammy with him. Sounds like they beat you instead though Sheriff. Sounds like you might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Howard, was Bainbridge coming from the cemetery entrance when he came across you?”

“Not sure, he hit me from behind. It’s possible.”

“Makes sense. He had words with Lance, but couldn’t release his anger onto him as he needed him to meet with someone down by the railroad. He took it out on you instead.”

“Hmm. Maybe.”

Mr. White puts his hand on the door handle. “Think it’s time I make myself scarce gentlemen, I’ve already been in here too long.”

“Where are you going now?”

“I told the Mayor I was rounding up some extra men for him, but as you’re not actually storming into the place tomorrow I think I’ll just head home and spend some time with my wife.”

“Do you want to leave Moonstone with us?” Vince’s question surprises both Ralf and Howard.

“Umm, let me sleep on that. Thanks for asking though.”

Vince nods. “It’ll be a fresh start for many. I think you, more than most, would benefit from a do over.”

Ralfe absorbs this statement before opening the door. “Goodnight the both of you. I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Goodnight Mr. White, and thank you for your information.” Howard locks the door after him and walks to Vince, pulling the smaller man into a big hug. “Man oh man, what a night of revelations.”

“Poor Bobby!”

“I know, it’s awful.”

“And I wonder where Naboo is. Do you reckon he’s alright?”

You could say Naboo is alright, if by alright you mean ‘Naboo is currently staring at the skeleton of a man lying in the corner of a cage which itself is hidden inside a magic clothes trunk’. Yeah, Naboo is fine!

“Not totally unexpected. The real Doctor Bamshoot I’m guessing.” Naboo studies the remains more closely, “Definitely an adult male and the few strands of hair left on the skull I’d say are the right colouring.”

The Shaman spots a table to the left laden with various fancy trinkets, potions and herbs. There’s a big leather bound book laying open on pages titled ‘Transformative Demonic Possession: The pros and cons of a life as a body double.’ He lifts up the book to check out the title but there’s nothing on the front except a large red pentagram.

As he places the book back down he spots a piece of paper being used as a bookmark. Being careful not to lose the page it was opened to he turns to the spot. The spell flagged has an ominous title; ‘The Swirling Black Hole of Cosmic Terror and other diabolical ways to ruin everyone’s day.’ “Bollocks, that’s not good.”

Naboo notices the bookmark itself is a torn page from a sketchbook folded in two. He straightens and flattens it out on the table top. It’s hard to understand at first, it seems the pretend doctor’s handwriting is as bad as the real one’s probably was, but he can see it’s a sketch of Moonstone with buildings like The Salty Bullet, the jailhouse and the theatre all present. Curiously the lake is also drawn and next to it is a crude picture of a tree with a door in its trunk. “The Shaman Portal!” says Naboo aloud.

He traces around the map with his forefinger until tapping it a few times on one specific area, “X marks the spot!” He lifts his finger to reveal a small cross right in the middle of the cemetery, and next to it, in tiny cursive scrawl, the words ‘kill one here’.

Naboo refolds and replaces the map. Even he, the most unshakable of men, looks deeply worried. “Yep” he says as he makes his way out of the magic trunk, “it’s as I suspected. Baboo Yagu’s in Moonstone!”

The little shaman exits the Doctor’s house, locking the door behind him. Bollo is waiting patiently outside.

“Well done boy, you came.”

Naboo climbs into the saddle and urges the pony forward. “To the cemetery we go.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Moonstone’s favourite dynamic duo.”

Charlie and Eddie, the first standing at Bob Fossil’s head and the second at his feet, jump in unison at the sound of the physician’s voice. They both take a step back from the bank manager’s body.

“I was just saying, wasn’t I Charlie, how much of a misfortune it is to stumble across Mr. Fossil out here by these pig houses?”

“And I was just saying, wasn’t I Eddie, that poor Mr. Fossil here could do with a doctor and lo, one appears?”

“Tis both a misfortune and a stroke of luck brother.”

“Although, one fears, it is too late for Mr. Fossil.”

“Much too late.”

“So you didn’t just carry him from The Bullet?”

“What, us Doctor? Oh no, sir. Carry him? Oh no, not we, we…”

“We did not do that at all, sir. He is, he was…”

“Was far too heavy for that. Yes, too heavy and too difficult for us what with, umm, with…

“With my back sir, far too difficult for my back. I can barely carry myself these days.”

“And my legs, well, as you can see, I limp with every step, sir.” To demonstrate Eddie feigns hobbling and comes to a stop beside his brother. They await a response.

The Doctor’s double nudges Bob Fossil’s body with his foot.

“He’s dead?”

“Yes Doctor.”

“Never mind, it’s you two I need.”

The twins look at each other. “You need us?”

“For what?”

“I need to show you both something. I need your opinion.”

“Us sir? Really?”

“Yes. Come closer. I need you to see what I have here.” The fake doctor puts his closed fist out before him. “Quickly, come see before it fades.” A soft glow is radiating from between his fingers.

Charlie and Eddie shuffle forward, Eddie’s limp now forgotten.

“What is it?”

“It’s special and it’s rare and it’s meant only for us.”

The twins take a last step and lean in towards the Doctor’s hand.

“Show us please.”

They lean in further when a sudden volley of slashes and swishes and stabs and slices whoosh down upon them. They don’t even have time to scream.

The mystery doctor wipes the blood from his amputation knife with the blanket lying next to Bob Fossil. He studies his ghastly work.

“Yep! Still got it!”

He kneels down, takes a small bottle out of his pocket and collects the blood spilling from a deep gash in Charlie’s chest. He stoppers it tightly, removes another bottle and fills it with blood from a hole in Eddie’s midriff. He looks across to Bobby’s body, considers his options and then shakes his head. “Two’s enough.”

He pops both bottles into his bag and removes a couple of chunky, white, minty smelling circles. He places one on the right eye of Charlie, and one on the left eye of Eddie. He returns to his bag and takes out a large jar, the dark contents of which are wriggling and squirming against the glass. His flicks open the lid and yanks free a jet black eel which he guides into the trouser leg of Charlie. He watches it slither beneath the material. He pulls out a second and does the same to Eddie, prodding the eel once when it pauses near Eddie’s thigh.

Picking up his bag he stands, dusting off his knees as he does so. “Right then you horrible lot, now for part two.” Laughing to himself the phony doctor heads back to his lodgings.

---

[nextpage title=”Allegiances”]

Allegiances

Howard pulls Vince into his chest.

“I can’t breathe Howard.”

“Oh, sorry little man.” Howard eases up.

“Think you forget how tall you are sometimes.” Vince gives the Sheriff a playful swat on the arm. “So we all done then?”

Howard looks around them. “Everything important is by the door, everything else is over there or in the empty cell. Yep, I think we’re done.”

“Good ‘cause I need a drink and we need to finish talking about Bainbridge.”

“Out here or in bed?”

The Deputy’s eyes gleam. “Ooh, in bed, warm and cosy. I’ll make us those drinks, you fix the sheets.” He kisses Howard on the cheek and begins rummaging in a crate for a couple of tumblers.

Howard moves to the bigger of the two cots and plumps the pillow. “I still can’t believe Tommy is Bainbridge’s father. If Bainbridge knew that all this time I wonder if he ever told Tommy.”

Vince appears holding the drinks. He puts them onto a shelf and starts to remove his boots. “Well if he was told towards the end it may explain Tommy’s sudden change, his drinking, and his hanging around The Bullet all the time.”

“It fits doesn’t it?”

“And it explains why he never told you. He knew how much you hated Bainbridge.” Vince removes his trousers.

“And it explains why he jumped in front of Bainbridge to protect him when I pulled the trigger. Jesus, it explains everything.”

Vince peels off his shirt. “I think so Howard. Sad that Tommy never mentioned to you about leaving a family behind, but it would seem that his ex-wife was in love with someone else. I doubt he thought his son would ever try to find him.” Vince slips between the covers and pats the mattress, “You coming in?”

“Yeah sure.” Howard quickly undresses and, passing a drink to Vince, gets into bed too.

Vince leans back against Howard’s chest and shoulder, fidgeting a bit to get himself comfortable. Howard positions the pillow properly behind his back and pulls the sheet high across their laps.

They both pause conversation, sipping their drinks and enjoying the moment.

Howard kisses the top of Vince’s head. “This is nice.”

“Hmm.” Vince fondly rubs Howard’s leg beneath the covers. “You cold?”

“No, I’m fine. You?”

“No, I’ve you keeping me warm.”

“How’s your head? How’s the lump?”

“Okay I think.’ Howard feels for the bump on his scalp. “It’s gone down a lot now.”

“I should have got Naboo to give you some of that oil and fixed you up one hundred percent.”

“Ha yeah. Didn’t think of that.”

…

“So your shoulder and everything are completely fine?”

“Completely, like nothing ever happened.”

“That’s incredible.”

“Yeah.”

…

…

“You thinking about tomorrow Howard?”

“Hard not to.”

“Do you think we’ll be alright?”

“Not really no, I think we may face our greatest challenge yet and that we have much pitted against us. But we’ll do our best Vince, and, above all else, we’ll do our best for each other.”

Vince turns to face Howard. “Shit, I’m a bit anxious.”

“Yeah, me too. But we’ll be brave as well as anxious.”

Vince pulls Howard’s face towards his own and plants a soft kiss on the Sheriff’s lips. “Come what may we’ll always have this.”

Howard takes Vince’s now empty glass and, along with his own, puts them onto the floor. He then turns back to his Deputy and strokes the hair away from the side of Vince’s cheek. “Yes, my love, we’ll always have this.”

Back at the Doctor’s house the pretend physician looks around furtively before dashing across his porch and entering. He closes the front door and leans back against, eyes closed, catching his breath. He hugs his bag close to his chest.

He suddenly opens one eye wide.

He opens the second.

He sniffs deeply.

He creeps forward, hunched over slightly and still tightly clutching the bag. He scans the front room, keeps moving, looks into his surgery, and makes his way to his back room.

He stands completely still, ear cocked and sniffs again.

He waits.

He can hear nothing.

“Is my nose deceiving me? I’m sure I can smell something unfavorable in the air.”

He tiptoes across to his magic trunk and runs his hand across the lid. Nothing feels wrong or out of place.

“Hmm? Maybe me old brain is playing tricks on me.”

He opens the lid of the trunk and descends below.

Like the Doctor’s front door Naboo has made short work of picking the lock on the gate of the cemetery. He thinks it weird that the whole area has been fenced and gated. Surely this means others know of a danger or a secret too, the most likely person being the Mayor. He makes the rules for the town after all.

Naboo follows a path that seems to run through the centre. Ahead of him there’s a small hillock to the right and a greenish glow is being emitted from it.

“Bingo!”

As he gets nearer he can hear a slight plopping and fizzing sound, and there’s a strange smell in the air, much like a store cupboard in a high school chemistry lab. Naboo wrinkles his nose. Spells made for bad reasons always smell awful just as ones made for good reasons always smell nice. This one is definitely bad juju.

As he gets to the top of the hillock he first sees a gravestone. It says ‘Here lieth Rev. Red O’Reilly. May God keep his soul’. Naboo peers down into the large, newly dug open grave. Bubbling away below is a nasty looking mixture of green goop. It stinks and looks disgusting. “Sorry Reverend but I don’t think your soul is with God. I’d say it’s been extracted and used as a diabolical bath soak for the Universe’s most fiendish demon. In fact I’d go as far as to say you’re well and truly in hell mister. To get this treatment you must have been one very repugnant human.”

Mayor Bainbridge kicks hard the foot of the dozing Sammy who’s snoozing against the glass of the window by the front door of The Salty Bullet. The man jolts awake.

“Any sign of those twins?”

Trying to suppress a yawn Sammy answers, “No Sir.”

“Stay alert!”

“Yes Sir.” Sammy adjusts his posture.

“That includes all of you,” the Mayor barks. “Stay fucking alert!”

Dixon wanders over to the bar and pours himself another drink. He knows he’s already had a few too many, but his nerves are beginning to jangle. He downs it in one.

He heads to the back of the hotel and presses his face up against a rear window looking out towards the path the Piper Twins took with Bob Fossil, the path that leads along the train track and to the pigs. “It’s been nearly two hours for fucks sake. Where the hell are they?”

“You talking to me Sir?” Duke is cowered into the corner behind a small table, rifle laying on the bench beside him.

The Mayor stares at him hard. “Are you really one of the best I’ve got?”

Duke flinches as if expecting a slap.

Dixon looks back out of the window. “My life, as it’s always been, is filled with pathetic deadbeats who find it impossible to follow simple instruction. It seems even Mr. White has been unable to fulfil his promise to me tonight. I will never understand why it is that I surround myself with such intolerable losers.”

Duke picks up his rifle, slips out from behind the table and stands awkwardly behind The Mayor. “I should check out the other rooms Sir.” He skittles away.

Dixon Bainbridge sighs. “If you want something done right then you have to do it yourself.”

He checks that both the Colts holstered on his hips are fully loaded, opens the back door and departs into the night.

The dodgy doctor has opened the contents of his bag onto the table alongside his big black book. “Right then where’s that spell?” He flicks through the pages until he stops on one titled ‘All Good Demons Need Back-Up: How to Build Yourself a Small Army.’ “Here it is.” His finger runs across the lines of the spell as he mumbles the instructions to himself, committing them to memory. He rubs his hands together. “Perfect! It’s almost too easy.”

He grabs a pestle and mortar from a shelf then back at the table grinds together a variety of foul smelling herbs. He then spits into the mortar bowl adding enough saliva for the herbs to become a gross kind of brown paste. “Now, where’s my soul concentrate? Ah, here it is” From below the table he retrieves a large glass vessel full of green goop similar in appearance to that at the bottom of Red O’Reilly’s grave. He takes out the bung and then there’s no mistaking the odour, it’s the very same swill that’s currently bubbling away in the cemetery. “Lovely.” He pours some into a beaker and adds the herby paste. “Finally my secret ingredient.” He pulls the stopper from the small bottle holding Charlie Piper’s blood and tips it into the beaker. He does the same with Eddie’s.

In the corner of the table is a candle stick with a small stub of a candle atop. “Just about enough there.” He pulls it towards himself and lights it with a click of his fingers. He then holds the beaker above the flame and starts muttering some indecipherable nonsense about eels and wasps and slap bass and crab sticks and Lambeth and Trevor Robinson. Suddenly there’s a discernible ‘whoosh’ and the Piper Twins are standing in the corner of the room, each sporting a huge white circle over an eye and bearing a greenish hue to their skin.

“Where are we brother?”

“No idea brother.”

“Shut it you two! Now, what’s your names?”

“I’m Charlie and this is Eddie.”

“Charlie and Eddie. Ha, who are ya, a soul duo from the 1990s?”

The twins look confused.

“Nah, what’s you be needing is a couple of good oil’ fashioned Cockney names. That’s right, some proper English names. From now on you’re Jim and you’re Jackie.”

“I don’t wanna be Jackie.”

“Shut your noise boy, you’re Jackie. Now your surname’s Piper right?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good. Jim and Jackie Piper, I like it.” He chucks a recorder to each twin. “Here, learn to play these. Can kinda be your calling card.”

“But Doctor Bamshoot, what are we doing here?”

The phoney doctor touches his face and hair. “Oh yeah, I right nearly forgot.” And as quick as a flash the face before them morphs into something grotesque, a face dark green and waxy framed by long, grey hair with a chin and nose like the beak of a macaw. There’s also two cold blue eyes, one of which is staring out from beneath a giant round circle, just like theirs.

“I ain’t the Doctor boys, I’m a peppermint nightmare. They call me The ‘Itcher!”

“The itcher? You got a rash or something?”

“It’s The Hitcher not itcher you ballbag. With an ‘haych’. I’m a cockney geezer ain’t I? Now shut it and come with me both of ya.”

“Where to?”

The Hitcher sniffs the air as he had done earlier. He catches again the ever so faint whiff of something other. “We’re going to the lake. We’ve got ourselves a suspicion to investigate.”

Bobby Fossil has a banging headache. He rolls over onto his side and pushes himself up into a seated position. He rubs his temples and the back of his neck, and looks around. It’s dark, but he can make out a short wooden fence to the left and a pile of rotting vegetables to the right. But it’s not what he can see that gives away his location, it’s the smell of shit and the soft snuffled snorting of the animals. “What the heck am I doing here?”

Bobby stands quickly, then leans against the fence to steady himself. His memories flood back, the trip from the cave, The Mayor approaching, Naboo’s magic words, and then…nothing. It’s a blank.

He pats himself down but other than the headache and a few bruises he seems in good health. Whatever Naboo did must have worked. Unless, he looks around again. “These pigsties are haunted, I know so. Maybe I’m really dead. Maybe I’m a ghost.” He pinches himself and yes, he can feel it. “Can ghosts pinch themselves?”

He takes a few steps. “I can feel my feet.” He takes some more. “Should I be panicking?” Do ghosts panic? Do ghosts know they’re ghosts?”

He vomits, gags a couple of times, and then wipes his mouth with his sleeve.

“Is that ghost sick? How will I know? What if I’m invisible?” He rubs his temples again. “Who can help me?” He thinks of Naboo, thinks about heading back to the cave, “Too far away”. But he has an idea, “The Sheriff and Deputy. They’ll be able to tell me if I’m a ghost. That’s if they can see me.”

Looking rather unsure of himself Bobby takes the path that leads in the direction of the jailhouse.

The residents of Moonstone always refer to the lake as simply ‘the lake’, but its full name is Black Lake. The residents don’t refer to it as such for one reason only, it sounds sinister. People don’t generally like the idea of having a scary lake nearby. Maybe if they knew its history though, knew of the attempted murder that took place there, and knew of the magical secrets concealed in the trees that surround it, then they’d call it Black Lake to ward of anyone from wanting to visit.

The Hitcher isn’t someone that scares easily though. It’s normally him doing the scaring in fact. And he knows exactly where he is going, he’s visited here before.

On the southern edge of the lake is a large black willow tree, its branches over-hanging the water’s edge. The Hitcher makes his way towards it, the Piper Twins following in his footsteps.

“Here it is chaps.” The Hitcher reaches the tree and ducks beneath the leaves to view the trunk.

The Piper’s stick their heads through the foliage.

“Here’s what?”

“I can’t see a thing.”

The Hitcher ignores them and instead runs his hands around the truck. There’s a sharp click and a hiss. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?”

The Hitcher pulls his hands back and is now holding, by a chain, an odd shaped golden object with a glowing green jewel at its centre.

“This gentlemen is a key to another world. It’s a magical amulet, and it means a shaman is here.”

The Piper’s look at each other. “Do you mean Naboo?”

The Hitcher bursts out from beneath the leaves and grabs Jackie’s collar. “What did you say?”

Jackie cowers, “Naboo, the magic man. Is it him you’re talking about?”

“You know him?”

Jim replies, “Yeah, of course, we travelled with him and The Mayor earlier.”

“Where to?”

“To Moonstone.”

“He’s there now?”

Jim shrugs, “I guess.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me earlier you imbeciles?

“Err…”

“Never mind, fill me in now. And I want to know everything!”

Dixon Bainbridge reaches the pigsties just after Bobby has left it. Consequently there’s nothing for him to see there.

“Damn it, where are those twins?”

The Mayor lights a match but there’s no sign of them or any indication of what happened to Bob Fossil. He blows out the match and discards it. He taps the handles of his guns as if to check they’re still there. He smooths down his moustache.

“The Sheriff. If anyone’s behind their disappearance I bet it’s him. He’s probably got them locked up in a cell.”

Just as Bobby had done minutes before the Mayor takes the path to the jailhouse.

Howard gently lifts Vince’s arm from off of his chest and slides out of bed. “Bloody bladder,” he whispers.

“Whazat?” Vince mumbles as his half opens one eye.

“Nothing, go back to sleep.” Howard pulls the cover up and over Vince’s shoulder before leaning down and giving him a peck on the cheek. “I’m just going for a piss.”

Vince rolls over and snuggles into the pillow. “‘kay, be quick.”

Bobby runs across the street and ducks into the shadow of Sally Glister’s Dressmaker’s Shop. He’s panting hard and shaking, certain he heard somebody behind him, somebody following him. He inhales deeply, trying to steady his nerves, when sure enough he sees a figure appear on the other side. He folds himself further into the dark and watches.

Dixon Bainbridge reaches the street. To the right it leads back to his hotel, left towards the jailhouse. He creeps along the left to the corner goods store and thus gives himself a vantage point to suss out the Sheriff’s abode. He can’t believe his luck when he spies the Sheriff exiting his front door and making his way to the outhouse. He unholsters a gun and creeps across.

On the other side of the street Bobby follows.

“So it sounds like the meddling Shaman Council have sent another one in to help protect the cosmos. I knew I could smell one in my home. The last ones that came through accidentally locked me in this world. A pink geezer that looked like an enlarged bladder, and a kid who I think fucked off to Vegas or some nonsense. I followed them through to sneak a peek at what they were doing but got myself trapped didn’t I. The pink one got rescued by that Dennis fella and they shut the door before I could pass back through. But by that time I’d found out all about our local soul mates and realised I could have me a little fun. It had been so long since I’d found some proper star-crossed lovers that I didn’t even realise any still existed. And I’m so close to getting away with everything too. I can’t believe there’s another shaman here. Something must have tipped them off, some cosmic divination no doubt. Pathetic bunch of do-gooders! And now I’ve got to presume he knows about me and probably my plans. And if he knows about them he’s probably gonna poke his bugle in ain’t he? Still, I have the amulet so he’s not going very far. He don’t know that I know that he’s here, not yet anyways.”

“Are you talking to us Doc, er, I mean Mr. Hitcher? Just we haven’t a clue what you’re rattling on about.”

“You don’t need to understand, that ain’t your job. Your job is to listen when I want to have myself a little rant, and to do what I tell you to do when I want you to do it.”

“And have you anything you want us to do now then?”

“Sure do boys. I need the Sheriff or the Deputy. I need you to capture one of those lawmen lovers and bring him to me. And I need him this morning.”

“Who? Sheriff Moon and the new Deputy? Are they, you know, doing stuff together then?”

“I don’t care what they’re doing together? Love is the only issue here, gross, icky, higher-matched love, and I mean to use it to blackmail the very thing that created it, the Universe. I’m going to open me an evil eddy the likes of which has never been seen before, and with that evil under my control I will be the most powerful being across all time.”

“And you’re doing all this today?”

“Before breakfast or after?”

“Actually I am a bit peckish. You got any malt loaf on ya?”

The twins shake their heads. “What’s that?”

“It’s healthy innit. Never mind, just get us a lawman instead.”

“Which one?”

“Don’t care, but the pretty one will be easier to hold down.”

“Well the Sheriff’s planning to arrest the Mayor. Maybe we can ambush one of them then.”

“Okay, that could work. Good thinking boys. We’ll head back to The Salty Bullet, formulate a plan, and have a nice cup of tea.”

Jim and Jackie Piper look more baffled than ever.

“Standing around with your dick in your hand Sheriff? Seems very apt for you.”

Howard tucks himself in and wheels around to face Dixon Bainbridge and the barrel of a Colt 45. “Well at least mine still works.”

“What’s that? What do you mean by that?”

“Oh nothing Bainbridge, don’t get emotional.”

Dixon waves the gun. “Well don’t fuck with me then.”

Howard takes a step forward. “What the hell do you want Bainbridge, it’s too early for this nonsense?”

“Oh no you don’t Moon, you stay right there.”

“What do you want?”

“Where are they?”

“Who?”

“The Piper Twins? You got them locked up in there?”

“What? No!”

“Show me.”

“I’m not taking you in there, Vince is asleep. And why the hell would I arrest the twins?”

“I heard you were planning to arrest me. Is that true? Maybe you’ve taken out my some of my defence.”

Howard doesn’t answer.

“If you’re really planning on bringing me in Moon you’d best get yourself some back up. Wouldn’t want you and Vincey boy caught in any crossfire.”

Howard remains silent.

“You know you’re outmanned and outgunned even if I don’t have the Pipers. And if you think they’ll testify against me then think again.”

“I don’t have the Piper’s Bainbridge.”

Both men stare at each other for a long time.

“So what do you have, on me I mean?”

Howard takes a moment to consider his next move. The Mayor is opening a door for him here, giving him an opportunity to ask questions. Should he? It would be nice to get some answers before he leaves Moonstone in a few hours’ time. And it seems as if Bainbridge is in the mood for talking.

“I know you arranged the murder of Lance Parrot.”

Dixon smiles. “You still going on about that. I didn’t kill Parrot.”

“No, but you told Lance to meet someone down by the tracks, and you got Bob Fossil to find a knife. You’re implicated.”

“Why would I do all that? What did I have to gain?”

“You thought Lance was stealing from you, and maybe he was, but the whole thing wasn’t your idea. You just made it happen for someone else. You made it happen for Doctor Bamshoot.”

Bainbridge swallows hard. He raises his gun higher. “There’s things you don’t comprehend.”

“Well enlighten me then. Why are you so scared of the Doctor?”

“Who said I’m scared?”

“Why else would you be covering for him like this? Why else would you do what he asks or suggests?”

Bainbridge shakes his head. “It’s not as simple as that. There’s more going on in Moonstone than you know.”

“Like?”

“Mystical stuff.”

“Naboo?”

“How do you know about him? But yes, like Naboo.”

“I’ve met him, and I know he knows you. But what’s that got to do with Doctor Bamshoot?”

The Mayor looks embarrassed at the mention of the Shaman, but he continues, “The Doctor isn’t a normal man either.”

“A shaman too?”

“No, not exactly. More of a witch or evil spirit or something. I don’t think he’s even the real doctor anymore. Hasn’t been for some time. Haven’t you noticed that he smells funny?”

“And how did you find all this out?”

“I saw him, the Doctor I mean, dead as a doornail in his surgery. I assumed he’d overdosed on Laudanum or something, but then the next day he appeared in the Bullet, alive and well. Freaked me right out. Then Lance had said he’d seen him dancing naked in the cemetery a couple of evenings before, performing some ritual or something. He knew that I’d seen him dead and has been forcing me to do stuff ever since.”

“Such as?”

“Fencing the cemetery. Getting him a knife. Arranging for Lance to meet him. I didn’t know he was going to kill him though.”

“So he killed Lance because Lance had seen him dancing? But instead of killing you he’s been using you.”

“Probably, and pretty much. Or maybe The Doctor just needed to kill Lance for another reason.”

“And Monty’s theatre. Was that him or you?”

The Mayor grins. “I’ve nothing to say on that matter. I don’t know anything about it.”

“Bullshit.”

“Change the subject.”

“Okay then. You didn’t murder Lance, but what about Gregory?”

“Who? I don’t know a Gregory.”

“Gregory was one of Red O’Reilly’s boys. Ring a bell now?”

Bainbridge takes a step backwards. He lowers the gun slightly. “How do you…who said…?”

“So it’s true. O’Reilly beat the kid up and you helped dump him into the lake.”

“Where did you get that from?”

“It doesn’t matter, I can’t prove it. But I can see in your eyes that it’s true you piece of shit.”

Bainbridge raises the gun again. “Remember who’s got the weapon trained on who Moon. You don’t want to piss me off.”

“And what about you pissing me off? Why the fuck are you here Bainbridge? You’ve already kicked the crap out of me, burned down Monty’s pride and joy and tried to kill Vince once, maybe twice. What the fuck is it you want now? You coming crying to me about your Daddy issues, is that it? You jealous of me because of my relationship with Tommy? Is that what everything comes down to? You’re just an envious sack of shit that never got any love from Papa?”

Bainbridge looks both ready to burst with anger and shrivel in distress. “What the fuck do you know about Tommy you arrogant arsehole? Who the hell told you he was my father?”

“So that’s true too. How did such a good man spawn a devil like you?”

“Fucking watch your mouth Moon. You don’t know a fucking thing about it.”

“Pretty sure you emotionally blackmailed Tommy to an early grave. Couldn’t wait to get your comeuppance on him once you arrived here could you? Revenge for Daddy leaving you behind?”

“I did come to Moonstone to find my Father, but instead I found Tommy had got himself a new son, you! Tommy tried to make it up to me but it was too little too late. And he started drowning his sorrows, hanging around the Bullet all the time apologising and trying to make amends. At least I could admire him as the Sheriff, but there was nothing to admire about him as a drunk. Stopping your bullet going in to me was the only decent thing he ever did in his life.”

“Sure. He saved the life of his criminal son. What an amazing deed.” Howard’s sarcasm isn’t subtle, “Look how happy the whole of Moonstone are to have you here. Don’t they really love you as their Mayor? Look how many friends you have.”

“Friends and family mean nothing. Power and money are the only solid things in life, the only things you can trust.”

“It really is sad you think that way Bainbridge. You’ve never truly looked around you have you, never looked for a different way to live? Take Bob Fossil. He always saw you as a friend, but you treat him like shit. He doesn’t deserve that. He’s defended you time and time again.”

“Fossil was an imbecile.”

“Was?”

“Don’t you know? Fossil’s dead. And before you suggest it, no, I had nothing to do with it. Why would I waste my time killing that dumbass bag of good for nothing brains. Fossil has always been a weight around my neck. Mother insisted I befriend him as a child and he’s been hanging onto my coat tails ever since. It’s almost embarrassing the way he fawns over me. I should have ditched him long ago, he barely has his uses. He couldn’t even get rid of the knife properly. He was fucking hopeless!”

“Do you really mean that?” Bob Fossil steps out of the gloom where he’d been hiding and listening the whole time.

Both Howard and Dixon jump out of their skins.

“What the living fuck?!”

“Bloody hell, we thought you were dead.”

Bobby takes a step forward. “You can see me then?”

“Of course we can see you. But you were stone cold dead. I saw you myself.”

“Thank goodness. I thought I might have been a ghost.”

“Fuck me, you really are stupid.”

“I heard you say that already. But I don’t care anymore Mr. Bainbridge. I couldn’t give a rat’s arse. Deputy Vince has helped me realise that I don’t need you in my life, that what I thought was your friendship was just you bullying me. And now I’ve heard you say it for yourself. You’ve never liked me, not really. We’ve never had anything close to a friendship. But Vince likes me I think, and the Sheriff here has looked out for me, and Naboo has been really kind so I don’t think I need you anymore.”

“Naboo, ah so he’s behind all this. Of course! He made you appear dead. Clever clogs!”

“Did he Bobby? Did Naboo help you out?

“I think so. I woke up amongst the pigsties though. I don’t know where he is?”

“Amongst the pigsties?” Howard scowls at Dixon. “You have anything to do with that Mayor?”

“Pfff!”

Howard puts a hand on Bobby’s shoulder, “Are you okay then? You’re not hurt?”

“Step away from each other. You still seem to be forgetting that I have the gun around here.”

“Give it a rest Bainbridge. What you gonna do, shoot us both here where we stand?”

“And you’re not the only one with a gun!” Vince’s voice travels down from the jailhouse veranda. They can’t see him but they hear the click of a hammer being cocked.

“Like you’re any good with a gun. You’re just some fancy pants ladyman.”

BANG!

“What the..!” Dixon Bainbridge whips the hat from off of his head to study the bullet hole that’s been left through the exact centre of the crown. “Why you little shit! That was a new hat!” Bainbridge aims his gun towards the dark of the veranda.

He doesn’t see the punch that Bobby Fossil launches, “Leave Vince alone!”

Bainbridge feels the punch though. “Ow, fuck!” He tries to raise the gun in Bobby’s direction instead, but Howard has already grabbed him from behind and pinned his arms to his sides. “Give it up Bainbridge.”

The Mayor struggles but realises he’s no match for the three of them. “Okay, okay. Let me go. I’m not gonna shoot anyone.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Here, look.” He awkwardly, beneath Howard’s grip, manages to slip the Colt back into its holster. “The gun’s gone. See. We’re all good.”

Vince makes his way down the steps. “What the fuck is going on? You all woke me up.”

Howard slowly lets the Mayor go. “Well this one jumped me, waving his gun around asking where I’d hidden the Piper Twins.”

“But we don’t have the twins.”

“So I told him. Then Bobby here turned up back from the dead. Seems Naboo pretended to kill him.”

Vince pats Bobby on the back. “It’s nice to see you’re okay. We were gutted when we thought you’d carked it.”

Bobby smiles coyly.

“You gonna fuck off now then Bainbridge?”

“You’ve not heard the last of me Moon.”

“Well we live down the street from each other, and you do have a rather loud voice so no, I doubt that we have heard the last of each other.”

The Mayor points a finger at Vince. “I should have strung you up when I had the chance.”

Bobby takes a step towards him. “You need to go now Mr. Bainbridge.”

With a “humph” Dixon Bainbridge turns his back on the three of them and strides away.

“Well that was fun.”

“You said you were only going for a piss.” Vince rubs Howard’s arm. “You just can’t keep out of trouble can you.”

“Seems not.” Howard rubs his eyes. “Doubt we’ll get any more sleep now.”

“And the sun’s nearly up anyway.”

“I’m just glad I’m not a ghost.”

Vince laughs, “What you on about Bobby?”

“I woke up on my own down by the pigsties, thought I might be dead, and thought I might be a ghost.”

“Ha-ha. Well we’re glad you’re not a ghost either. You really helped us out here, thanks for that.”

“We’re planning on leaving Moonstone today, me and Vince and Mr. Flange and anyone else that wants to come. Will you leave with us Bobby? We’re all packed up ready. If you can grab your things and meet at the station before the eleven o’clock train then we’d love for you to come.”

“Yeah, do come. Get away from here. You’re not safe and you can start all over again. Maybe become a proper bank manager somewhere else.”

“Really? After all I’ve done?”

“Well I don’t think you played that big a part in crime, not really. Besides friends look out for each other, and you’re with us now.” Vince winks and gives him one of his biggest smiles.

“Yes! Yes! I say yes! I will come. I’ll go pack now. This might be the happiest I’ve ever been. I’ll see you later. Bye!” And with that Bob Fossil dashes from view in the direction of his home at the rear of the bank.

Howard smiles too. “Think we made his day.”

“Yeah, think so.”

Howard puts his arm around Vince’s shoulder. “Well that was eventful.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. It was weird though, Bainbridge daring to approach me like that. I think he may be running a bit scared at the moment and willing to take risks.”

“Which probably makes him more dangerous.”

“Maybe. He confirmed that Doctor Bamshoot killed Lance though.”

“He did, what just then?”

“Mm. He said it’s not really the Doctor though, that it’s some dark spirit man or something.”

“He’s Baboo Yagu’s.” It’s Naboo’s turn to surprise them from the dark.

“Jeez Naboo, you nearly gave me a heartache here.” Howard puts his hand over his heart. “What’s with people jumping out on me tonight?”

Vince looks startled too. “Naboo! Where have you been? We’ve just been talking to Bobby and it seems that you saved his life, by killing him.”

Naboo nods. “Yes, I saw him leave. Thought I should wait until showing myself. Things have taken a bit of a turn and you two need to be prepared.”

“For what?”

“As I said, the Doctor is Baboo Yagu. C’mon, let’s talk inside.”

Dixon Bainbridge pauses before he opens the back door to The Salty Bullet. He can hear a raised voice. He pulls on the handle, opening the door as slowly and quietly as he can, and edges inside. The voice is clearer now.

“Right then, I’ll set myself up over here. You two see to fixing me up that cuppa.”

“Cuppa?”

“I forgot you septic tanks don’t know about the world’s finest invention. Bread and cheese then, and a pint of whatever decent ale you have to wash it down.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, you can tell Mayor Bainbridge to come out of his hiding place.”

The Mayor steps out from the shadows looking white as a sheet. In front of him sits the most hideous looking creature he has ever seen. He has the general look of a man but with a face so green and grotesque he can barely dare to look at him. He’s sporting a tall black hat and a huge white monocle. Standing either side are the perverted figures of the Piper Twins, each equally horrible with their green skin and what looks like red whiskers. It’s indeed a sight to behold.

The twin’s response to the Mayor is one of happiness though.

“Boss, look at us. We’re demons.”

“We’re undead boss. We’re proper bad guys now.”

The Hitcher stands and whacks each twin around the head with his cane. “I’m your boss now not him. Now go get me that grub. Go on, be off with ya before I do you both a mischief. And you”, he points the cane towards the Mayor, “Grab a seat and make yourself comfy. Best we get acquainted.”

Dixon makes his way forward, stepping through a few bodies lying around and about on the floor. He spots Duke and Sammy amongst them. “What happened to my men?”

“Don’t worry about them. I didn’t want any fuss or bother so I put them to sleep.”

“They’re alive?”

“Of course they’re alive, what d’ya take me for, a monster?”

“The women upstairs?”

“The same.”

The Mayor pulls up a seat a little ways away from The Hitcher. “Are you Doctor Bamshoot? I mean what Doctor Bamshoot really looks like?”

“Your Doctor is dead, as you well know. I just used his skin for a bit.”

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

“I want much the same as you actually Mayor. In fact we’ve always been on the same page me and you. I want and will do what you’ve failed to do.”

“Which is?”

“I want to kill Howard Moon or Vince Noir. I want one of them to die by my hand.”

The Mayor leans forward in his seat. “Now you’ve got me interested. But why just kill one?”

“It’s all I need. Just one star-crossed lover to set things in motion.”

“Star what lover?”

“Star crossed. You know, like Shakespeare. Heard of him? Old Shakiepoos we used to call him. Top bloke. Could write a love story that one.”

“You knew him?”

“Knew him, I’m practically wrote that whole scene with Lady Macbeth and the daggers. She slashed one way, she slashed the other, and she made a pretty mess of the king.”

“Not quite how I remember it.”

“Well it’s not Macbeth we’re hoping to achieve, it’s more Romeo and Juliet ain’t it. And we need to get our hands on the leading man, or lady. I reckon the lady will be easier though don’t you?”

“The Deputy?”

“The very same.”

“Moon and Vince are like Romeo and Juliet? Are you having me on?”

“Well neither are quite so pretty, or young, but the basics are the same. Two people destined to be with each other against all odds.”

“How together?”

“Together, you know. Vero amore. Amor verdadero. L’amour varix. True love kind of together.”

“I knew it! I knew they were shagging.”

“It’s a bit deeper than that, but okay yes, they’re shagging.”

“Brilliant.” The Mayor rises from his seat. “This is gold. If you kill Vince then you’ll be committing Howard to a life of misery. It’s perfect. I don’t care why you’re doing what you’re doing, I just want to see Howard Moon a broken man again. Even more broken than he was before if possible.” He rubs his palms together with glee.

The Hitcher puts up his hands. “If that’s a bi-product of what I do and that makes you happy so be it. I’m glad to be of service.”

The Piper Twins arrive with a plate of food and a glass of frothy beer. The Hitcher takes of huge swig of the drink and wipes the foam from his top lip. “Cheers boys. That hits the spot. Now I want you two to get across to the Doctor’s house and bring back here the black trunk. Quick as you can, no dilly dallying okay?”

“Yes boss.”

The Piper Twins scuttle out the front door together singing something about apples and pears.

The Mayor pulls his chair a little closer to The Hitcher. “So, you need Howard or Vince dead. Let’s say Vince. Well I can do that for you”. He taps the top of his guns. “I could have done it earlier if I’d have known. I was with them both only a while ago and could have shot either one.”

“I don’t want one dead straight away, I need to capture one. I need one for my final plan.”

“Which is?” The Mayor has gone from fearful to cheerful in a matter of minutes.

“I need to feed one to the Swirling Black Hole of Cosmic Terror.”

“Oh, right.” Dixon shifts in his seat. “Sounds…ominous. But great, when do we start?”

The Hitcher takes another sip of beer. “No time like the present me boy, no time like the bloomin’ present.”

“Sit down Naboo, can I get you anything to eat or drink?”

“No, thanks.” Naboo plonks himself in the middle of the couch, crossing his legs up beneath himself. He pulls out his pipe and sucks on the end without lighting it.

Howard and Vince seat themselves before him. “So then, what’s come to light?”

“Who is The Doctor really?”

“His name is Baboo Yagu, better known as The Hitcher, a demon centuries old and a real pain in the arse. I thought he was imprisoned in a castle on Xooberon but turns out he’s here.”

“A demon from hell?”

“No from London. East End to be precise.”

“Do you know why he’s here?”

“Well it’s definitely him trying to screw things up.”

“Is there a reason for it all?”

“Doubt it. He’s just a demon. He’ll be doing it all for kicks and trying to win himself a pocket of power somehow. All demons ever want is power and a foothold in reality. The thing they fear most is not being feared. When they’re forgotten about or ignored they’re at their weakest, so they force themselves into worlds set on causing as much wrongdoing as possible. And most have their favoured transgressions. The Hitcher has a few. His hobbies include hunting down evil animals, hanging out with London’s most famous heroes and villains and spying on us shamen. Seems he’s added stuffing up soul mates to his list.”

“And that puts us in danger?”

“I found his spell book. I think he’s trying to create a special kind of black hole, a particularly nasty one that at its worst will sever every true love story across the whole of time.”

“And that’s bad because?”

“Well love holds everything together doesn’t it, especially true love? Without it there’ll be chaos, and there’s nothing a demon loves more than chaos. And that chaos will give him bargaining chip. That’ll be what he’s really after, the power to switch chaos on or off as a threat. He’ll intimidate the Universe, threaten to destroy history’s greatest love stories one by one if he doesn’t get whatever he demands in the moment. If he wins then we’re all fucked.”

“So where do we come in? I know you said when it comes to lovers we’re special, that we’re soul mates as you put it. Does he need us to make this black hole thing work?”

“Yes, you are star-crossed. One of you is all he needs. Everything else is set to go.”

“One of us?”

“Yes.”

“Which one?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What will he do to us?”

Naboo fiddles with his pipe. “That I cannot say, but I don’t imagine it’ll be nice.”

“Fuck!” Howard gets out of his chair and starts pacing. “This is fucking nuts!”

Vince runs his hand through his hair. “Is there a way to stop him?”

“Only one that I know of.”

“How?”

“Self-sacrifice.”

“Who’s self?”

“Yours. Well yours and Howard’s.”

“We have to kill ourselves?!” Vince stands too. “So one of us dies and the Universe goes to shit, or both of us have to die to save it?”

“I didn’t say death, I said sacrifice. What that sacrifice looks like I cannot say.”

“Howard, are you hearing this?”

Howard takes Vince’s hand. “Okay, I’ll go along with this to a point Naboo. I’ll go along with it in that I’ll never leave Vince’s side. If this Hitcher wants one of us he’ll have to fight the other for them because we’re not letting each other out of our sight.”

Vince squeezes Howard’s hand, “They’ll have to literally tear us apart.”

Naboo nods, “Good. That’ll help. Plus I’ll be trying my best to foil his plans too. It would be easier if the Shaman Council sent some help like I asked but so far I’ve not heard from them.”

Howard and Vince sit back down. “Speaking of other shaman we’ve something to tell you. Did you know one of your lot has visited us before?”

“No, what do you mean?”

“It’s a long story but our friend, Monty Flange, was rescued by one a while back. He described him as tall and exotic looking. Quite handsome by the sound of it.”

“Saboo, and he’s not that handsome.”

“Naboo and Saboo! Really? Do all shaman names end in ‘oo’?”

“No.”

“Oh right. So anyway, this Saboo saved our friend from near death.”

“When? Where?”

“A while back and at the lake. Though he wasn’t actually here to save Monty, seems he was here on some mission. He told Monty as much. He then instructed Monty to return to Moonstone to look after Howard. He gave him some aging potion so he could disguise himself.”

“Saboo does like his aging potions.”

“Do you get what that was all about?”

“I can hazard a guess. I bet they did get my call for help but ended up coming though into the wrong time period. There’s a door to Xooberon by the lake, it’s how I got here. But they’re bloody hopeless at time reading, especially if Tony Harrison had anything to do with it.”

“Tony Harrison?”

“Another shaman from Xooberon. He’s a complete fool.”

“Well if they hadn’t got the timing wrong then Saboo would never have rescued Monty, so it was lucky in a way.”

“For Monty yes, but it also explains how The Hitcher got here too. I bet they’ve been through the doorway a few times looking for me and The Hitcher followed them through. Kirk’s always off his head so he wouldn’t have noticed, and as I said Tony Harrison’s a dunce. And Saboo thinks he’s mister perfect and would never accept that he’s made a mistake. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s how The Hitcher found out about you two. Bet he overheard them discussing stuff. Honestly they’re all a bunch of twats. I’m better off on my own.”

“Well I for one am happy Saboo rescued Monty from that clothes trunk. He would have drowned real slowly if not.”

“A clothes trunk, that’s interesting. Did Monty say what happened to it Howard?”

“No.”

“Bet The Hitcher found it by the lake too, discarded after the rescue. A trunk like that, holding a dying man’s fear and trepidation, is the perfect conduit for his diabolical lair.”

“What lair?”

“The Hitcher uses a big black trunk as a kind of bubble in time. It’s not that big a bubble as he hasn’t as much magic on Earth as he has on Xooberon, but it’s enough for him to create a safe space in which to work his evil.”

“What happens if we destroy the trunk?”

“Not much now, most of his preparations are done, but it does give me an idea.”

“Naboo?”

“We need to trap him in his own box.”

Back at the Salty Bullet the Piper Twins are manoeuvring the Hitcher’s trunk through the main doors.

“It’s not has heavy as it looks is it brother?”

“Certainly not as heavy as Bob Fossil.” Both twins burst out laughing.

“Over here you two. Pop it down near this wall.”

“What’s this for?” Dixon Bainbridge reaches out to touch it, but the Hitcher slaps his hand away.

“Not for the likes of you, that’s what it is. Now I want no-one to open this, you hear me? You keep an eye on it, but you don’t go near it.”

Dixon returns to his seat. “We need a plan, and it needs to be a good one if we’re going to nab the Deputy. You got any ideas?”

“I was hoping you could help me with that matter. Aren’t they coming to arrest you soon?”

“That’s what I heard, but I’m not so sure now. They don’t have much on me to arrest me, and I doubt they want a gunfight.”

“Shame, I’d prefer they came to us. I like it here, it’s comfortable. I always feel at home in a pub. So how do we lure one in?”

Dixon nibbles at the end of his moustache. “One might come if they thought they were rescuing the other, or someone else they care about.”

“Who do they care about?”

“The most? That actor friend of theirs.”

“Montgomery Flange?”

“Yeah. The Sheriff would come for him for sure.”

“Okay. We might be able to work with that. We snatch Montgomery, tie him up here and wait for the rescue.”

“But they’d both come wouldn’t they? Or just Moon, and I’d really prefer it if we got the Deputy. Plus how do we get Monty? We’d have to grab him somehow and bring him here. If we do that then we might as well try and grab the Deputy directly. “

“You’re right, it’s too fussy. I knew you’d help me plan. It’s good to have someone to bounce ideas off of.”

“Same. You’ve no idea how refreshing it is stategise crime with a fellow expert.”

“I think I’m a little out of your league being that I’m, you know, a cockney demon an all.”

“Well I’m happy to help if it means finally destroying Howard Moon. Damn it, the amount of times they’ve been separated in the last few days, if only I knew of your plans for them earlier I’d have kept the Deputy aside for you.”

“No, it’s all been perfect so far. You’ve done well. Their constant parting has only strengthened their love for each other. It’s helped cement their bond.”

“It makes me feel sick. Howard Moon and his ugly wife. Yuck!”

“The Universe doesn’t think so. The Universe loves love, especially a love like theirs that’s pure and complete. That’s why I need one, I need to harness some of that for my own purpose.”

The Mayor stands again. “If only we knew what they are scheming, whether they’re still going to attempt an arrest, or whether they’ll keep their heads down for a bit. If we knew we’d be able to jump the Deputy I’m sure.”

The Hitcher slaps the table. “I might have just the very thing to help.” He scoots across to the trunk, opens the lid and disappears inside.

The Mayor stands, mouth agape, until two minutes later the Hitcher returns holding a large orb.

“Where’d you go?”

“Downstairs. But no matter about that, take a look at this. It’s me crystal ball. I nearly forgot I had it, haven’t used it in donkeys.” The Hitcher wipes it over with a pocket handkerchief.”

“What does it do?”

“It lets me spy on peeps without them knowing. We could check out what our lawmen are up to right now. Only trouble is, I need something from one of them to make it work. It helps zone in on them.”

“Like what?”

“Oh anything really. Something they’ve touched in recent times. Something they’ve worn is usually best.”

The Mayor snaps his fingers, “Would a belt do?”

“Whose?”

“The Deputy’s. Think it’s lying around here somewhere. Mr. White used it to tie his hands at some point, but we untied him before taking him down to the lynching post. I’m sure it’s here. Give me a moment.” The Mayor goes racing off into a back room before rushing back holding a black belt. “Here.”

“That should work a treat.” The Hitcher takes in his left hand whilst moving his right around and across the crystal ball, muttering an incantation under his breath. He stops at one point, gives the ball a shake and curses the reception in Moonstone before resuming. All of a sudden the seated images of Howard and Vince quiver into view.

“There! There they are.” Dixon Bainbridge can barely control his excitement. “You got them. Can we hear what they’re saying too?”

“Hang on a sec, let me turn the volume up.” Slowly but surely Howard and Vince’s voices can be heard.

“So you know how you said a force was keeping us apart for all this time, and we said that it was mostly the Mayor doing that recently…”

“Ooh, they’re talking about me.” The Mayor whispers whilst pulling his chair in closer.

“…does that mean the Hitcher has been controlling the Mayor completely?”

“Damn it, they do know about me. The Shaman must be with them. Here, I’ll zoom out a bit.”

“There he is, Naboo the Enigma.”

“More of an enema if you ask me. Now shhh, I want to hear how much he knows about me.”

“…before how the Mayor is acting independently, but The Hitcher is just giving him a little push here and there. It’s the same with me and you two, I just steer you around a little bit.”

“You’ve said that before, but like when?”

“Like when I saved Vince before the Mayor got to him. And like I helped him onto the mail cart that got him here.”

“You what? How did you do that?”

“I told you, I came to watch Clockwork Guns, to see you for myself. You got pissed and I took the opportunity to put you on a direct path to Moonstone. The Shaman Council would think it was too much interference but it was getting on my nerves waiting for you to arrive, watching Howard mope about the place.”

“I forgot you’d said you’d seen my band.”

“And when did you see me moping? I’d never laid eyes on you before the other day.”

“Well I just knew you were.”

“It’s so fucked up thinking we’ve been maneuvered around.”

“Sorry, but that’s what it means to be star-crossed.”

The reception drops out and the image goes fuzzy in the crystal ball. “Hells bells, we’re losing them. Hang on a minute, if I just tip it this way a jot. Yep, here we go.”

“…so there really is no point.”

“But we’ve told everyone now. They all think we’re doing it.”

“Doing what? C’mon tell us.”

“It’s a waste of time.”

“So what else do we do, just sit around here waiting for the Hitcher to come? No, we said we’d try to leave and that’s what we’ll do, if not for us then for everyone else. We’ll head to the station as planned before the morning train arrives.”

The image fades to black.

The Hitcher shakes the ball again. “Damn it, I think it needs charging. I really should invest in a newer model one of these days.”

“Well that’s a bummer, they’re planning on running away on the next train. How we going to fuck them up if they’re not here?”

“Didn’t you hear what Naboo said, it’s a waste of time. They’re not going anywhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“They can’t leave. It’s their fate to stay here in Moonstone, at least until I get involved.”

“None of this makes any sense. You’re all bonkers.”

“I might be bonkers, but I can spot an opportunity when I see one.”

“An opportunity? Where?”

“They’re heading to the station, and the station is right near us, yes?”

“Yes. So?”

“And they said they’d told everyone. By everyone I would think that means they’ll be at least a small crowd there. And we can add to that crowd by sending your men and women in too.”

“Keep going.”

“In a crowd it’s easier to fashion a situation, to carve an outcome. In a crowd you can choose to be seen or to be invisible.”

“Okay, okay, I get you. We create a diversion. We have everyone looking one way…”

“…and when they’re all looking that way…”

“… we grab the Deputy and run…”

“…all the way to the cemetery.”

“The cemetery? Why there?”

“Because that’s where The Swirling Black Hole of Cosmic Terror is ain’t it?”

“Is it?”

“Of course. And the sooner we grab the Deputy, or the other one…”

“I’d prefer the Deputy.”

“…okay, the Deputy. As soon as we grab him then the sooner we can get my final show on the road.”

“So how we going to go about it then? Grabbing Vince I mean?”

The Hitcher turns in his chair. “Oi, you two twins, get over here.”

“Boss?”

“You know where you can get your hands on a horse and cart?”

“Sure. Chalky’s got one out back for deliveries.”

“Nice one. Now all these men”, he signals to Bainbridge’s men asleep around him, “and the women upstairs. Go and turn each of them so they’re all facing upwards towards the sky, then come tell me when you’re done. It’s time to bring them all out of their reveries.”

Naboo steps onto the veranda of the jailhouse and looks at the sun. It’s a couple of hours or so before everything kicks off. “I’m going out for a bit.”

Howard sticks his head around the door frame. “Going where?”

“Out. Got a few things to do. I’ll see you later.”

“When later? At the station?”

“Let’s just say you’ll see me when you need to.”

“Do you ever give a straight answer?”

Naboo climbs onto Bollo who’s appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Be smart Howard, and be brave. I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Howard moves to the top of the steps, “But Naboo, how will I…”

“Bye Howard.” Naboo rides off down the street.

“For goodness sake, cryptic much?”

Vince appears at the door. “Where’s he going?”

“No idea. He said he’d see us later.”

“I hope not too much later.”

Howard shrugs, “I suppose we carry on doing what we planned to do. Gather our things and meet everyone at the station. We can call on Monty and see if he’s ready.”

“Sure, I guess. We might as well get going. There’s nothing else to do here.”

“Well, we might have time for a little something.”

Vince grins. “Naughty, naughty.”

“Nothing to lose, all to gain.”

“Get in here Sheriff.”

As Howard heads back inside Vince hauls him across the threshold, quickly locks the door and pushes Howard against the wall.

“Easy Deputy.”

“Shut up.”

Vince rubs Howard’s cock through his pants and the bigger man moans. “Fuck.”

Vince continues massaging him through the material whilst lowering himself to his knees. “Undo your trousers.”

Howard does as he’s told, and Vince hastily tugs down the pants and releases him. He gently pulls the foreskin back and licks the tip, his right hand stroking beneath. He wraps his lips around the end of Howard’s prick and swirls his tongue. Howard leans his head back against the wall and runs his fingers through Vince’s mane of hair. He can feel himself losing it already. He steadies.

Vince strokes Howard’s shaft, rubbing his thumb across the frenulum whilst continuing to lick and suck Howard’s head. He’s lightly massaging Howard’s balls now too, speeding everything up and then slowing everything down, in tune with Howard’s sighs and murmurs and hip movements. He hums a little, sending teeny vibrations through Howard’s manhood. The Sheriff trembles.

And then Vince looks up.

As their eyes meet it’s like a seismic wave passes through Howard. He cups the side of Vince’s head in his palm, watching his penis enter in and out of the Deputy’s mouth, watching glistening lips and flushed cheeks and fluttering eyelashes and the bobble of Vince’s Adam’s apple as he purrs and swallows. “I’m gonna come.”

Vince nods but doesn’t take his mouth away as the Sheriff expects him to. Instead Vince keeps sucking, eyes locked on his lover’s, bright blue and sparkling, full of passion and love and admiration and trust.

Howard blows him a kiss and then comes, quivering and softly thrusting into Vince’s mouth. A small trickle of semen dribbles down Vince’s chin. He wipes it away in a sensual fashion before tucking Howard back into his trousers.

Howard, still breathing heavily, clutches Vince’s shoulders and lifts him to his feet before grabbing the Deputy’s face between his hands and pulling him into a deep, languid kiss. He can taste himself, but he doesn’t care. He turns them so Vince’s back is against the wall and plunges his hand down the front of Vince’s pants. He clutches Vince’s dick, and deepening the kiss even more, rubs up and down.

It doesn’t take long for Vince to crescendo across the line. With the sound of his moans and gasps smothered by Howard’s mouth he orgasms hard, shaking from head to toe and clinging to Howard with all his strength.

Howard puts his head on Vince’s shoulder and strokes the nape of the smaller man’s neck. “I love you.”

Vince kisses Howard’s jawline and whispers, “I love you too”, into his ear.

---

[nextpage title=”Sacrifice”]

Sacrifice

As each of the men and women in The Salty Bullet start returning to consciousness the Mayor issues them instructions. For the women it’s an order to stay in their rooms until they’re called. The men are told to hang about outside or down along the path, “But you all listen out for further direction you hear?” His men nod or mutter words of agreement before leaving though various doors. “Not you Sammy, I need you for something else.”

“Yes boss.” Sammy stays put, his hat in his hands.

The Mayor does a lap of his henchman. Sammy stays surprising calm.

“Can I trust you Sammy?”

“Of course boss.”

The Mayor stops in front of him. “You used to work a gold mine further out west didn’t you?”

“Sure did.”

“And you’ve worked on railroads.”

“A while back, yeah.”

“Therefore you have experience with dynamite?”

“Yep.”

The Mayor smiles. “I have a job for you. It’s risky and a bit dangerous, but I’ll pay you well if you do it.”

Sammy nods.

“Good. I’ll call you when I need you. Don’t go far.”

Sammy replaces his hat. “I’ll be just outside boss.”

The Mayor waits for him to leave before saying aloud, “All’s clear, you can come out now.”

The Hitcher and the Piper Twins emerge from behind the bar.

“Nice work Mayor. And sounds like we’ve an ass to do our donkey work.”

“Sammy’s okay. He’ll get it done.”

Suddenly there’s a movement at the front door and Nutter sticks his head in. The Hitcher and twins duck into the shadows just in time. “Boss, there seems to be a crowd gathering.”

“Where?”

“The station I think. There’s people passing and heading down the hill in that direction.”

“Go with them Nutter and wander about. Tell everyone but Sammy to do the same. Mingle. Chat. Keep tabs on what’s happening. If I need you I’ll holler.”

“Will do.”

“Girls! GIRLS! Come out here.”

Four women appear, bleary eyed from lack of proper sleep and pale from lack of sun.

“God look at you all, you look half dead. Get yourselves outside and stay there until you hear otherwise.”

The woman scuttle off through the doors together, eager to be out in the fresh air as quickly as they can in case the Mayor changes his mind.

The Hitcher reappears. “Sounds like the residents of Moonstone are arriving. Any sign of our lawmen yet?”

“Not that I know of.”

“And we won’t know stuck in here will we? Time I consulted me crystal ball again.”

“It’s working now?”

“It will be very soon.”

“Shall we go then?”

Howard nods. “I’ll be out in a sec.”

Vince gives him a quick hug from behind before leaving the Sheriff to his own devices.

Howard runs his hand along a shelf, stopping momentarily to touch an empty whiskey bottle, the one he’d drank from when he first told Vince about Tommy. He plumps a cushion on the couch, the very couch on which he’d laid with Vince all night after the hanging attempt. He tucks a chair under the table, the table where he’d fed Vince his first meal, where Vince had asked him to wear his Sheriff’s badge again, that he’d ran around in a game of chase with the man he now considers his world.

He looks into his bedroom cell. It’s free of all the drapery and decoration, but still houses the bedhead Vince had created for him. He spots the mirror that he’d so lustful watched Vince get changed in front of. He looks at the other cell and thinks of Bob Fossil, of the murder of Lance Parrot, of Doctor Bamshoot, but then he quickly thinks of Vince bound to the bars, a hot, sweaty mess of a man, both wanton and innocent and waiting for Howard to satisfy him. He remembers that last image with a contented smile.

A last look around, then Howard places the key on its hook and closes the door to the jailhouse.

Vince is waiting at the bottom of the steps. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. This feels right.”

Vince hands him a bag, linking their little fingers together as he does so, a small gesture of love and understanding. Howard smiles. “Honestly, I’m fine. Thanks though.”

Vince picks up a bag of his own. “Where first, the Hopkin’s house?”

“Sure.”

They walk in silence for a bit, each absorbed in their own thoughts until Howard says, “Maybe I should give myself up to this Hitcher fellow. I could just get it over and done with and offer myself to him.”

“What you talking about Howard? You can’t do that.”

“I dunno, just thinking aloud I guess. But Naboo’s last instruction to me was to be smart and brave. I’m trying to think how I can be both.”

“Well that doesn’t sound too smart to me, your giving yourself to him. He’s going to kill you if you do that.”

“Maybe surrender is the smart thing. Maybe that leads to something like, oh I don’t know, an opportunity or a piece of good fortune.”

“No way, it’s too dangerous. Why put yourself right into his hands? And besides, if anyone’s going to give themselves to him it should be me.”

“Why you?”

“Because I’m, well, not as important as you. You know way more about stuff than I do.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m more important. That’s crazy.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway as neither of us are going to do that.”

“I suppose not.”

They reach the Hopkin’s front door. “Seriously Howard, get the idea out of your head.”

Howard raps on the wood. “It just feels a bit like we’re jumping feet first into a fire without even realising it’s been lit. I hate that we have no control.”

“We have some control, don’t we?”

The door swings open and they’re greeted by Monty’s huge grin. “My boys, my boys, come on in.”

“My dear Monty. How the devil are you?”

“Fine now the gang’s back together again. I’m all packed ready. Mr. and Mrs. Hopkin’s are too. Sally Glister is with Mrs. Hopkin’s out the back. She’s coming, but in all honesty I don’t think Mrs. Hopkins gave her a choice. And our horses are tethered around the side Howard. Gideon wasn’t happy to have me tugging at her reins, but she seemed okay when she realised Sunflash was coming too.”

“That’s brilliant, thanks Monty.”

There’s another knock at the door and this time Monty opens it to Jack Tucker. “Good morning Mr. Flange. Just letting you know we’ve a wagon out here if you’ve things you want to put on it.”

“Oh good gracious that’s perfect. Mrs. Hopkins has about five bags. I’ve no idea what’s in them as I told her to only pack the essentials. Mine is over here if you’d be so kind as to put that on. I think we’ll all be out in a minute.”

Jack takes the bag outside. “No problem, there’s plenty of room.”

Monty takes Howard’s sleeve and leads him and Vince to the far wall and out of Mrs. Hopkin’s immediate range. “I’m so glad you haven’t changed your mind. I was worried you might think again this morning. I take it you two had a pleasant night.”

Vince saves Howard’s blushes. “It was nice Monty, thank you, but it was also rather eventful. Quite a lot happened after you left us.”

“I’d rather not hear all the seedy details.”

Vince giggles, “No, not that. I’m mean town related stuff. We’ve learnt quite a lot.”

“From who?”

“From various people. From Naboo, from Mr. White and from Bainbridge himself. Howard got a very early morning visit from our Mayor.”

“You did? You’re not hurt are you?”

“No we’re fine Monty. It was all threats and chest beating in the main.”

“I can’t wait to hear all about it all on the train, but speaking of being hurt, Vince you’re going to have to explain yourself very soon. Everyone will be asking how it is you look so well.”

“We did think of that Monty, and we figured we’d just tell everyone about Naboo and his special knack for healing the sick. I can’t pretend I’m still injured, and I hate lying to everyone anyway. For that reason I’m going to drop the playing dumb act too. I can explain that away with the truth about wanting to fool Bainbridge. Plus I’m pretty sure everyone will be meeting Naboo soon as he said he’d join us at some point. We just won’t specifically mention the Babolisk Oil. From now on he’s just a skilled medicine man.”

“And speaking of medicine Monty, have you seen the Doctor since he left here yesterday?”

“No, not at all. Why?”

“Again, we’ll explain later, but please stay clear of him if you can. Just between us we’re now certain that it was he that killed Lance Parrot.”

“What? Really?”

“Really. Both Bainbridge and Naboo said as much.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Can’t believe what Mr. Flange?” Mrs. Hopkins, dressed in all her finest clothes, appears from the back along with Sally Glister and her husband. They wait for an answer.

“Umm, Deputy Noir here was telling me how he’s perfectly healed and I was saying that I can’t believe it. And neither will you Mrs. Hopkins. It’s practically a miracle.”

“How?” Mrs. Hopkins rushes over to Vince’s side, grabs Vince’s face and turning it from left to right in a search of bruises repeats, “How?”

Vince respectfully removes Mrs. Hopkins’ hands and takes a step backwards. “Well, it’s all down to the work of this amazing medicine man we found. Please, let’s pack our things onto the wagon outside and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Time for a gander.” The Hitcher gathers Vince’s belt into his hand and repeats the same incantation as before. The image of Vince slowly develops. It looks like the Deputy is walking. The Hitcher pans out and sure enough Vince is striding down the main street, Howard, Montgomery Flange and a few others at his side. Each is carrying a bag or wheeling a chest. The barber brothers are pulling a wagon and Howard is leading two horses.

The Mayor stands by the Hitcher’s side. “They’re on their way to the station alright. No sign of Naboo though.”

“This ball will find him. I just need to ramp up the power a bit.”

“But how will you find him if he’s not with the Deputy and you don’t have anything that belongs to him?”

The Hitcher removes the golden amulet from his inner coat pocket. “That’s where you’re wrong as I have this. Before I got me evil mitts on it Naboo was the last one to touch it.”

“What is it?”

“Ultimately it’s leverage my lad, but right now it’s my lucky charm.”

The green demon starts chanting a new spell.

Eleanor Hopkins links her arm through Vince’s. “It’s wonderful, truly wonderful to see you so well healed. Your story is incredible, about tricking the Mayor and happening across the miracle man?”

“It is quite incredible isn’t it?” Vince decides to dial up his charm offensive in an effort to stop too many more questions, “But the most incredible thing that’s happened to me in the last few days is meeting wonderful people like you and Mr. Hopkins, and Howard and Monty. I feel like I’m suddenly part of a loving family.”

“Awhh my sweet boy. And we are very happy you’re here with us. It’s like you’ve breathed life into the Sheriff again, and look at us all, off on a journey into the unknown. I thought my adventuring days were long over. The most excitement I have is when Lester gets in a new type of soap flake.”

“Who’s Lester?”

“Lester Corncrake. He runs the shop.”

“Oh him. I met him very briefly.”

“Speak of the devil there he is now.” Mrs. Hopkin’s waves her arms. “Mr. Corncrake, Mr. Corncrake, how are you? How’s your eyes?” She leaves Vince to go chat with the storeowner.

Howard wanders up to Vince’s side. “Here’s The Bullet. Looks quiet.”

“I wonder if Bainbridge is in there. I wonder if he’s watching us. “

“It’s likely I’d say, he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go.”

The little group rounds the bend and onto the path that leads downhill to the station. They stop in their tracks.

Below them quite a crowd has gathered. Some have bags and cases, others are clearly there out of curiosity. It seems as if word really does travel fast in a small town.

“Wow, there’s lots of people Howard.”

But Howard isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking down and across in the direction of the railroad milepost. Vince takes a deep breath as he spots it too.

Monty joins them at the top of the hill. “Not a pretty sight that post is it?”

Howard shakes his head. “It makes me feel sick.” He turns to Vince. “Can you handle going down there? I didn’t even think.”

Vince offers a faint smile. “I don’t remember very much to be honest, I was barely conscious.”

Monty puts his hand on Vince’s shoulder. “You were badly beaten up lad. It’s a wonder you’re still with us.”

Vince pats Monty’s hand. “I know, and I have you both to thank for being alive today.”

Howard still looks ashen. “I’m sorry we have to be back here, but it’s the only easy route.”

“It’s not your fault Howard. Come on, let’s head down. I think all these people will be glad to see you’ve arrived.”

The Hitcher looks deep into his crystal ball. “Where are you? Where are you?” He recites a few more magic words, waves the amulet above the orb and demands. “Show yourself shaman!”

The image of Naboo suddenly bursts forth. “Aha! It worked.”

“Does he know you can see him?” The Mayor is alongside the Hitcher again, still in awe of the clever ball.

“Shouldn’t think so, but you never can tell with these shaman folk. They’re crafty buggers. Well at least this one is. Their leader’s more brawn than brain. It’s how I escaped the castle on Xooberon in the first place, tricked him into thinking the King’s Guards were all having it off with his missus. He ran his sword through the lot of them and left me free to sneak away.”

Dixon scratches his head. “I can barely keep up with you and your stories.”

“Well let’s focus on the here and now then. Where is Naboo located and what’s he doing?”

“He seems to be having a smoke. In fact he seems quite relaxed.”

Sure enough Naboo is sitting with his feet up, puffing away on his pipe.

“Where though?” The Hitcher fiddles with the air to the right of the ball and the image pans out to show a veranda. He pans out again. It’s the veranda at the front of the barber shop. They can see the barber sign swinging above Naboo’s head. The Hitcher smiles, “I knew a fella who owned a barbers once. Sweeney Todd was his name. Outstanding chap.”

The Mayor ignores him, “Naboo’s a sitting duck.”

The Hitcher’s not quite so sure. “He looks like he’s waiting for something to happen? Still, time to play my next hand me thinks. Are you ready Mayor?”

The Mayor picks up a couple of sticks of dynamite and holds them up with a grin. “Absolutely, we’re all ready to rumble.”

The Sheriff and Mr. White cordially shake hands half way down the path. Vince can’t quite bring himself to, but he nods a polite hello.

“No bags Mr. White? I take it that means you’re staying put.”

“I thought about it, discussed it with my wife, but I’ve decided to remain here, yes.”

“Are you sure? It won’t be easy being around the Mayor after we all leave.”

“I think my services can be better employed here by keeping the Mayor in check if I can.”

“Well you may be needing this then.” Howard unpins his sheriff’s badge from his jacket lapel and holds it out to Ralfe.

Vince grabs his arm, “What are you doing?”

But Howard shakes off Vince and reaches his hand out further. “I’m giving this to you Mr. White in the hope that you might wear it one day. Here, please take it.”

Ralfe lifts the badge from Howard’s palm and holds it gingerly between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that any time soon, but I promise I’ll look after it, and if, in the future, I get to wear it then I’ll do it with pride.”

“But Howard, how can you give up your badge so easily?” Vince looks perplexed.

“I only just realised, standing here right now Vince, that I’m not going to be Moonstone’s sheriff anymore. As soon as I get on that train it’s over. And who better to eventually replace me than Mr. White?”

Vince fondly strokes his own deputy’s badge before also removing it. “You’re right, of course.” He thinks about handing his over to Ralfe too but has second thoughts, “Do you mind if I keep mine though?”

“You can keep it Vince. I’m sure if Mr. White ever gets himself a deputy then he can have another one made.”

Vince pops his badge into his pocket.

Howard leads Ralfe and Vince and the horses to the side of the path, making way for Jack and Jean Claude’s wagon to pass. “Before we continue down can I ask, have you seen the Mayor today?”

Ralfe White responds in the negative, “No, I’ve not been anywhere near The Bullet. I’m staying clear for the moment, trying to think of a good excuse for staying away last night. Some of the Mayor’s men are here though.”

“The Pipers?”

“No, I haven’t seen them since yesterday either.”

“It’s unsettling not knowing where they are. Which of his men are here then?”

Mr. White points, “Down there, Duke and Nutter. A couple of others there.”

“They’re probably just curious to see what’s going on.”

“Some of the Bullet ladies are here too. Oh, and there’s Chalky. I might just go and have a word with him, ask if he knows where the Mayor is. See you later Sheriff.”

“Thanks Mr. White, oh and by the way, before you go, Bob Fossil’s not dead.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it was all a misunderstanding. He’s very much alive and well.”

“Well I’ll be damned, that’s good news. All the best then Sheriff, and Deputy.” Ralfe doffs his hat.

“It’s just Howard and Vince now.”

Ralfe smiles, “I guess it is, but you’ll always be Sheriff to me. Bye for now.”

Howard and Vince continue down the path, passing as they go four women from The Bullet all laughing together, bosoms half exposed and their underskirts showing.

“I wonder if any will get on the train when it comes.”

“I would if I was them. It can’t be nice working for Bainbridge. I’m sure there’s better pimps around.”

“Really?”

Howard frowns, “No, probably not, but I still hope they leave here if they can. I mean, would you want to screw the same motley bunch of blokes every night, week in week out. It’s not like Moonstone gets many visitors to give them a change.”

Vince smiles, “I don’t mind screwing the same bloke week in week out, but then mine’s not a brutish Piper Twin is he?” The men stop as the path flattens out to a large patch of compacted dirt behind the station. The crowd is heavier here and there’s carts and wagons and all sizes of cases at people’s feet. They’re both very conscious of the milepost a few metres to the left of them, but neither look in its direction. Instead Vince cups Howard’s elbow, “I can’t wait for this to be over, for us and hopefully for everyone.”

“Same here little man.”

Vince spots Mr. Hopkins trying to stack a couple of barrels. “I should go and help.”

“Stay in sight!”

“You too.”

“I want to kiss you. I want the memory of seeing you here in pain to be replaced by the memory of me snogging you here.”

Vince chuckles, “As appealing as that is Howard you can’t. Now give me the horses and you go over there and see Monty. He’s sitting on his own.”

The Mayor darts back in the saloon area of The Bullet, his hands now empty of the dynamite.

“All done. Sammy’s on his way down now with strict instructions to wait twenty minutes.”

The Piper Twins also appear, both wearing bandanas across their faces and large Stetsons.

The Hitcher nods his approval. “Good job boys, you’ll blend in fine. Now do me a favour and hide The Mayor in a cupboard or somewhere similar.”

The Pipers stall. “Boss?”

The Mayor puffs his chest, ‘What the hell do you mean, hide me in a cupboard. I’m not hiding in a cupboard, I’m coming with you.”

“Wrong!” The Hitcher, with a speed of much younger man, jumps up and thwacks Dixon across the side of the head with his cane immediately rendering the Mayor unconscious. “Now, as I said hide him in a cupboard. I’ve no need for him but I like his style so he lives, at least for now. Hurry up, we haven’t much time.”

The Pipers hop to it, half carrying and half dragging the stout Mayor behind the bar and into the storeroom. They hurry back and stand side-by-side in front of their new master, ready and waiting for orders.”

“Take the trunk and strap it to the cart outside. Move the cart so the horse is facing uphill, ready for a quick getaway. Then find the Deputy. Stand as close to him as you can without being spotted. As soon as…what’s his name?”

“Sammy, boss.”

“As soon Sammy blows the track you grab the Deputy, you chuck him in the cart, you tie him up and you bring him to me at the front of the barber shop. Got it?”

“Trunk, cart, deputy, bang, deputy, cart, barbers. Yes boss, we got it.”

“Ooh it’s so exciting ain’t it boys? It’s go time! Now get lost, I need to see a shaman. And boys…”

“Boss?”

“Don’t you dare fuck up.”

Monty clears a spot on the wall so Howard can sit down next to him. “There’s quite a few here Howard. Most don’t have bags or anything, but still, it’s nice to see such support.”

“I didn’t expect it, that’s for sure.”

“You and Vince okay? There’s no sign of the Mayor or the Doctor.”

“It’s a bit worrying, but I’m not sure what we can do about it.”

“And no magic man yet?”

“No.”

“There’s one more packed and ready to leave though. Would you look at that?”

Bob Fossil is running down the hill with a bag in both hands. He trips near the bottom, falls, rolls twice, pushes himself back to his feet and keeps running. He makes a beeline for Vince shouting. “Deputy, Deputy, am I late?”

Howard and Monty watch as Vince helps slow the bank manager down, helps dust him off and helps him add his bags to the pile. They share a laugh.

“He’s a good lad your Vince.”

Howard beams with pride, “He’s wonderful Monty.” His smile lessens, “But now I know that you’re really Gregory, I can’t help but think that you’re probably about Vince’s age. I’m not sure as I don’t know how old Vince actually is, but it sounds sort of funny nowadays, you calling him a lad.”

“I suppose it does, but it’s kind of a habit I guess. I know I act the part of an old man, but I think the aging potion also makes me think like one a bit. It doesn’t only age me physically.”

“Are you going to keep using it? You can ask Naboo, I’m sure he’ll know whether it’s safe to stop or not.”

“Yes, I’ll ask him and then make my decision. I do like who I am as Monty, but it sure would be nice to have a young man’s energy again.” They watch as Vince hauls a couple of water barrels off the Tucker’s wagon and carries them into the shade. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

“Vince definitely fits the ‘never judge a book by its cover’ expression. He’s actually got some muscle on those arms.”

“Well you would know.”

“Monty! If you were a younger man you wouldn’t get away with giving me cheek like that.”

“Get over yourself. I’ll always talk to you like that whether I stay Monty or turn back to Gregory. Making you blush is one of my guilty pleasures.”

Both men laugh again.

From beside the wagon Vince is beckoning Howard to come join him.

“Seems I’m being called Monty.” Howard pats Monty’s knee. “You stay here old man, I’ll be back soon.”

“Hey, less of the ageist abuse!”

“You know you love me!” Howard winks at Monty before jogging over to Vince and the Tucker brothers. “Need my help?”

“Yeah, well more that we said we’d stay together. Jack and Jean Claude have a few more bags and some horse grain to collect from about half-way up. I said we’d give them a hand.”

“Sure.”

Howard and Vince head back up the path, the Tucker’s pulling the now empty wagon behind them.

“Monty alright?”

“Yeah, he seems fine. We were just chatting as to whether he’d become Gregory again, if he can do so. He said he’d ask Naboo about it.”

“Did you see Bobby roll down the hill?”

“I did, it was hilarious. Where did he go?”

“I left him with Mr. Hopkin’s. They’re on the platform with the horses.”

They reach the sacks of feed and stop, waiting for the Tucker’s to catch them up. The Bullet women are still hanging around. They’re being chatted up by a couple of young men that Howard identifies as Lester Corncrake’s eldest sons. There’s other residents milling around too, some kids playing chase in the long grass on the left, three old timers chewing tobacco in the shade of the building. What they don’t notice though, as they start to load the sacks onto the back of the wagon, are the disguised figures of the Piper Twins ducking down low in the back of their cart mere metres from where Howard and Vince stand.

“Hello shaman.”

Naboo sucks at the end of his pipe once more before covering the bowl with his hand to extinguish it and putting it away into an unseen pocket. “Hello demon.”

“How’ve you been? Having yourself a good day?”

“Pleasantries? Really?”

“To the point, I like it!” The Hitcher swings the amulet back and forth in front of him. “I have your key.”

“I can see that.”

“Without it you’re stuck here.”

“That too is true.”

“Want to deal?”

“I’m listening.”

“I’ll give you back the amulet and you fuck off out of here.”

“That’s it?”

“No. You seal the portal shut and none of you bunch of mystical twerps come through again. I’ll know ‘cause I’ll be watching.” He holds up the crystal ball.

“And what will you do Baboo Yagu?”

BOOM!!

The Hitcher jerks his thumb in the direction of the station. “That there, I did that. And what I will be doing next should be appearing any minute now.”

In the aftermath of the railroad explosion there is absolute peace, a gluey silence that descends on every person, a noiseless void full of shocked, terrified faces. There’s a sweet tang in the air and a plume of white smoke ascending from in front of the station.

Then someone screams and everyone decides the best course of action is to run up the hill and away from the detonation point.

Howard, a lawman’s blood still coursing through his veins, decides he should run towards the explosion. Monty’s down there, and Bobby and Mr. Hopkins. His beloved Gideon is down there. He doesn’t think, he heads down the hill, pushing through the tide of people running up and against him.

“Howard wait. Howard!’ Vince jumps down from the back of the wagon, straight into the arms of Jim Piper, the demon who once was Charlie.

“Hello Deputy, long time no see.”

“What the fuck? Get off me!”

Jackie appears at Jim’s side and each of them clutch onto a piece of Vince, forcefully manhandling the smaller man to their awaiting horse and cart. Vince struggles and squirms, shouting for Howard, but his partner is already out of earshot. In the middle of the chaos nobody notices.

“He’s still a feisty one ain’t he brother?”

“Sure is. Quick, push him into the back and grab his hands, I’ll wrap this rope around them.”

The demons Pipers make easy work of shoving Vince into the back of the cart. Jim pins him down whilst Jackie wraps the rope around Vince’s wrists and ankles, effectively hogtieing the Deputy and completely restricting his movements. Vince yells out again but Jim shoves a dirty rag into his mouth and pulls a sack over his head. Jackie sits ready in the driver’s seat, reins in hand.

“Go brother, we got him, go!”

Jackie swishes the reins and the horse and cart take off, uphill and out onto the main street.

Naboo sees the cart shoot out from the side of The Bullet and turn a hard left straight towards them. As it gets closer he makes out what looks like Bainbridge’s bodyguards, The Piper Twins, but they look different somehow. As they near him he can see that they’ve been fully demonised. What worries him more though is the struggling figure, hooded by a hessian bag, who’s sandwiched between them.

The cart pulls up to a stop in front of the barbers.

“Shaman meet the Deputy. Oh no wait, you two’ve met already ain’t ya? You’ve already meddled with him.”

Naboo rises and takes a couple of steps towards the cart. “Where are you taking him?”

“Loverboy and me have a date in the cemetery, but I think you knew that already.”

Vince mumbles his opposition to this suggestion, but his mouth’s clearly been stuffed with something. Naboo can also see the rope binding him. There’s no rescuing him in this moment. He also notices the black clothes trunk half covered by a blanket. He decides to keep talking. “If I take your deal how do I know that you won’t try destroy the Shaman Council too?”

The Hitcher laughs, “Because once I’m finished here then I’ll have no reason to worry about you lot. Besides, gentlemen don’t go back on their word.” The Hitcher climbs into the back of the cart.

Naboo offers a wry smile. “You’re a demon, not a gentleman.”

“I have standards. I have a code.”

“You have bad breath and a penchant for mayhem. I’ve no reason to trust you.”

The Hitcher snarls, “Look, fucking go or don’t go, what do I care? It makes no difference.”

Naboo takes another step forward. “Can I come then?”

“What?”

“If it makes no difference can I come with you?”

“What you planning Shaman?”

“Nothing, but I can’t go home a failure, and I can’t sit here all day, so can I come with you?”

“How do I know you want try to foil my plans?”

“With what? You hold all the cards. You’ve the amulet, you’ve Vince, you’ve demon bouncers and I’m pretty sure you’re concealing a rather sharp weapon. Honestly, I’m bored here. What you’re planning sounds far more interesting than Xooberon, and far more exciting than watching Moonstone go by.”

The Hitcher thinks it over before nodding. “Okay then g’vnor, climb aboard, but no funny business else it’s curtains for you.” He reveals the knife he’s carrying beneath his coat. “The time is nigh. You can come witness the birth of a super-demon.”

“I definitely wouldn’t want to miss that.”

But before he jumps on the cart he gives Bollo a pat and whispers to him “Go find Howard.”

Bollo watches the cart pull away and with a soft snort trots in the direction of the station.

As Howard reaches the base of the path Monty appears, coughing a little.

“You’re okay, thank god. What happened?”

Monty points to the station. “I don’t know but it’s the other side of there.”

“Stay here.” Howard dashes through the thinning smoke and out to the platform. “Mr. Hopkins! Mr. Fossil! Can you hear me?”

“Here Sheriff, we’re over here.”

Howard spins in the direction of the voice and spots both men, along with the horses, tucked behind the end of the station room. He hurries over to them and helps lead them all back to where Monty is still standing.

“Everyone okay?”

Bobby rubs his temples. “My ears are ringing.”

Mr. Hopkins rubs his leg, “And I got kicked by Sunflash when the bang happened but luckily he’s old and doesn’t pack too much of a wallop. Thank goodness they were tied up else they would have bolted.”

“I’m so sorry Mr. Hopkins”, Monty strokes Sunflash between his ears instantly calming the horse. “They must have been so scared.”

Howard pats Gideon too. “Shh, shh, good girl.”

As they stand there shushing their horses Mr. White suddenly appears. “Everyone alive?”

Howard nods, “We’re all okay. Do you know what happened?”

“Sammy Crabbock I think it was. I saw him heading down this way and tried to follow but then ‘boom’. Dynamite would be my guess. It’s blown a piece of the track clear off though. Sorry folks but you won’t be getting on a train today. I’ve sent a couple of lads out on horses to go and turn the train back.”

“The Mayor will be behind it.”

“That would be my guess.”

“Fuck!” Howard can’t help but think of Naboo’s words ‘You can never leave, Moonstone that is. You can try but you’ll always end up back here’.

Everyone looks at each other, faces showing despondency at the news about the track, and yet clear relief that they’re all unhurt. It’s a small moment of respite, a moment that’s destroyed by Monty’s next words;

“Howard, where’s Vince?”

Naboo is sitting quietly in the back of The Hitcher’s commandeered horse and cart, listening to the demon go on and on about his accomplishments and conquests.

“I couldn’t believe it really. It was I who suggested that Cleopatra, or Cleo as I liked to call her, should get word to Anthony that she was dead, knowing that the daft general would kill himself and I’d have a body of a true love to use, but then she only went and killed herself too didn’t she. I thought she was stronger than that. I mean, what was I supposed to do with two dead sweethearts? So I left them, found myself a wannabe novelist called Emily Bronte and got her to write an epic love story. It was my way of letting off steam. Heathcliff was all my idea you know. And her pen name, Ellis Bell, that was my dear ol’ second cousin twice removed on my sister’s side’s name. Might try me hand at that again someday, find an average writer and have a few words in their ear. Or maybe a screenwriter. I could be in the movies!”

Naboo tries to block out the cockney’s rasping voice. It’s gnawing away at his patience. Plus he desperately needs to think of a way to lock the Hitcher in his own trunk without endangering either himself or Vince. He’s set the stage somewhat, but there’s things he hasn’t worked out yet. He thinks of Bollo and hopes Howard understands his signal. If Howard comes to the cemetery too then that could put not a spanner, but certainly a small Allen key into the Hitcher’s works.

The Hitcher’s still talking, “At the end of the day it’s what I have to do. It’s how I’m put together ain’t it? And if I see a fella, or a lady, with a knife I have to get involved. It’s my area of expertise after all. Back in the Iron Age I taught them how to…”

Naboo sighs a deep sigh and, wrongly or rightly, wishes they’d arrive at their destination already.

Beneath the scratchy bag covering his head Vince too is trying to ignore the Hitcher. The demon’s never ending monologue is making him feel nauseous, as is the disgusting rag that’s been filling his mouth since the Piper’s put it there. Try as he might he can’t seem to dislodge it with his tongue. The bumpy uphill journey isn’t helping, and neither’s the million butterflies swirling around his insides.

This, he realises with absolute conviction, are likely his last moments alive.

The only thing that’s stopping him from having an all-out panic attack is the knowledge that Naboo’s is in the cart with him. He hasn’t heard a word from the shaman since they set off together, but he can feel that he’s close. For a second Vince considers if Naboo can read minds and he tries to send out a mental message. Non-surprisingly it doesn’t seem to work.

Vince thinks of Howard and wonders what he’s doing, whether the explosion has hurt anybody, whether Howard’s noticed that he isn’t where he should be yet. He feels so guilty having separated from him again, having been so stupid as to get captured after they swore they’d not leave each other’s sides. He knows how anxious, how scared, how angry Howard will be once he discovers Vince is missing.

But whatever Vince is imaging Howard’s going through is an underestimation. Howard is in full meltdown mode. As Monty’s words sink in, and as a quick look around him confirms Vince didn’t follow him down, Howard’s pulse rate escalates. He’s halfway up the hill in seconds, flinging items out of the wagon and yelling at the Tucker Brothers, asking if they’d seen where Vince went. They shrug and shake their heads. Distress builds and builds in Howard. He’s yelling Vince’s name at the top of his lungs, running up to everybody and spinning them around to check.

The Tucker brothers start yelling Vince’s name too, and by the time the rest of their friends arrive up from the station there’s a whole chorus of voices shouting for the Deputy.

Howard sees Duke knocking on the back door of The Bullet and screams over to him. “Is Vince in there? Who’s in there? Do you know who’s in there?”

Duke flings himself out the way as Howard shoulder charges the door once, twice, three times before Mrs. Hopkins and Sally Glister manage to grab him saying ‘Stop it’ and ‘Please no, you’ll hurt yourself’.

Howard escapes their grip and readies himself for another charge when the commotion and noise is interrupted by a deafening squeal from the top of the path. It’s so loud that it stops and quiets everybody immediately.

Even Howard ceases. He looks to see a little horse rearing up, kicking the air with its two front feet and whinnying with much deliberation.

Bob Fossil, very out of breath from running half-way up the hill, points and shouts, “Howard, it’s Bollo. It’s Naboo’s horse.”

“It is! But where’s Naboo?” Howard stops trying to break into The Bullet and sprints the rest of the way up the embankment. Bollo whinnies again as Howard reaches him, turns and then points his hindquarters in the Sheriff’s direction.

Only Jack Tucker and Mr. White were able to keep up with Howard as he ran and it’s Mr. White who comments now, “It looks like it’s asking you to get on.”

Jack nods in agreement adding, “But whose horse is it? And how are you going to ride something so small?”

Howards doesn’t waste any time answering Jack’s questions though. In one leap and bound he’s seated on Bollo’s back, his feet scraping the floor. There’s no chance of them fitting into the tiny stirrups, and the saddle is digging into his crotch, but he grabs the reins regardless.

As the rest of his friends and other residents finally reach the main street he’s got himself balanced enough to ride. He gives Monty a special smile before addressing the crowd. “I have to go the graveyard. Something really, really bad is about to happen and I have to be there. I haven’t time to explain, but please know, if I never see you again, that’s it’s been an honour and a privilege to serve as your Sheriff. If any of you can still leave today, even if it’s not by train, then I ask you to do so. I hope this isn’t goodbye, but if it is then thank you, all of you, for your support, your kindness and your trust. So long friends!”

Howards guides Bollo to face the other direction and with a ‘giddy up’ encourages the horse to move forward. There’s a five second pause and mass silence as everybody holds their breath in anticipation, waiting to see if the little nag can carry its tall occupant. But after a puff of his nostrils and a stomp of a front hoof Bollo is suddenly at full gallop heading towards the cemetery, and ultimately his shaman master.

The smell from Red O’Reilly’s grave is even worse than Naboo remembers. Vince is dry retching beneath his hood, and even the Piper twins look a little greener around the gills. Only the Hitcher is unaffected.

“Right you two, hand him over to me and get my trunk off the back. Put it there on that flat bit.” The flat bit is a neighboring burial plot.

The Pipers untie Vince’s feet and lead him off the cart. They push him towards the Hitcher who, in one motion, snatches the sack from Vince’s head and holds his sharp, slender blade under Vince’s throat. “Don’t even think about causing me grief pretty boy else I’ll have your ear, or your tongue. You understand?”

Vince gives a slight nod in response.

“What’s that, I can’t hear ya? Here, let me help.” He wrenches the rag from Vince’s mouth and throws it aside. Vince spits and coughs and gags again, the relief from having the cloth removed quickly replaced by the overwhelming smell coming from the pit. His eyes water.

The Hitcher grabs his collar and pulls him to the side of the grave. “Kneel down.”

Vince digs his heels in and holds his position. “No way! What are you going to do to me?”

“I said get down!” The Hitcher kicks at the back of Vince’s knees forcing the Deputy to literally bend to his will.

Before he knows it Vince is kneeling exactly where the Hitcher wants him which is far too close to the edge of the grave and, with his hands still tied together, very vulnerable to attack from behind. Fear and dread start to overtake Vince. He can feel himself trembling and the smell is making him giddy. He entertains the idea that he might be better off fainting. He closes his eyes and wills his mind to travel elsewhere.

Naboo watches Vince closely, sees how pale he’s become, how he’s shuddering and taking sharp breaths. He has to try and delay the Hitcher, has to give Vince time to calm down, give Howard time to reach them, and give himself enough time to iron out the kinks in the plan that’s formulated in his shaman brain. He climbs down from the cart. “So explain to me demon, exactly what is it you are going to do?”

The Hitcher swirls the knife around his own head in an overly dramatic fashion. “Well I’m going to add my final ingredient, the Deputy’s blood, to the eddy below thus creating the Universe’s first ever Swirling Black Hole of Cosmic Terror. I would have thought that was bleedin’ obvious.”

“Yes, yes, I know all that. What I meant was what are you going to do about the Babolisk Oil?”

“Babolisk Oil? What Babolisk Oil?”

“The Babolisk Oil that’s currently flowing around Vince’s veins. He’s chocked right full to the brim with the stuff.”

Vince has opened his eyes. Naboo can see the tiniest glimmer of hope sparkle in them.

The Hitcher points his knife at Naboo. “What the fuck you talking about?”

“Has your changing back into the form of Baboo Yagu wiped your memories of your days as the doctor? You treated Vince yourself didn’t you? You saw how battered he was after being hung from the neck, how black and blue his body was. How is it you think he looks so good now? Babolisk Oil, that’s how, administered by yours truly.”

From the look on the Hitcher’s face it’s obvious he’d forgotten all about treating Vince for the multiple cuts and bruises only a couple of days ago. He grabs Vince’s hair and pulls backwards, exposing the neck so he can see for himself the lack of rope burns. “You gave him fucking Babolisk Oil. Why the hell would you do that?”

“As you’ve already said I like to meddle. It’s more fun having a healthy plaything than an unhealthy one.”

The Hitcher pushes Vince back to the ground. “But Babolisk Oil may not affect anything I’m doing.”

“That’s true, it may do nothing at all to ruin your plans. But just maybe it will. Who knows? With its superior healing properties it impossible to say what Babolisk Oil can achieve? But it would be such a shame to have done all this work only to find it’s wrecked because you chose the wrong star-crossed lover.”

“The other one is oil free?”

“The other is one hundred percent human blood only.”

“Fuck.”

As the Hitcher turns away in angry thought Vince mouths to Naboo ‘don’t get Howard hurt’, but Naboo winks at him in a way that says ‘trust me’ and continues, “What does the book say?”

The Hitcher spins back around. “You’re a nosey bugger shaman, but you’re right. There’s bound to be a mention of Babolisk Oil if not for this spell then in relation to another. There might be a way of sucking it all out of him before I dice him up and feed him to my body-sized melting pot. Oi, boys, come here.”

The Piper Twins take a step forward.

“Listen, we have a problem, the Deputy here might not work out right so we need the other one. You go and get him for me, as quickly as possible. Where’s me crystal ball, it’ll help you locate him. Hang on a tick.”

The Hitcher grabs the ball from his seat in the cart before realising his error. “Shit, I can’t, I’ve nothing of his to hold. Unless…” he looks at Vince, “I guess he’s touched you a lot recently ain’t he.”

Vince tries to back off, but can’t avoid the Hitcher’s boney hand from being placed on his head, the long blackened nails digging into his scalp. He tries to shake off the grip but the Hitcher simply digs in deeper, “Keep still you little twerp.”

In the ball a very fuzzy image starts to grow as the Hitcher mutters his words. At first it’s hard to make out anything, but the image improves as Vince gives up struggling. It’s not great, it’s all static and white lines, but amidst the interference they can just about make out Howard. It’s not clear exactly where he is at first until suddenly, there, just over Howard’s right shoulder, they spot the top of a gravestone. The picture dies.

“Jim. Jackie. Now’s your chance to really prove yourself to me. Me noggin’s got to thinking our Sheriff’s quite close by. How’s about you two give this whole place the once over and shake loose our lawman. Go on then, off you pop. But remember I need him alive.”

The Pipers head out amongst the graves, Jim towards the left and Jackie to the right, in search of Howard.

“As for you pretty boy, let’s see if we can’t get that Babolisk crap out of you. If the Pipers miss the Sheriff I need a contingency plan. One of you is going in that fucking pit or so help me..!”

With gritted yellow teeth The Hitcher pulls Vince to his feet, opens the lid of his trunk and forces the Deputy in. Vince can’t believe what he’s seeing as he steps onto the top of a short set of stairs leading down into a room. This must be what Naboo meant by the Hitcher’s ‘bubble in time’. It’s a nice show of magic. Still he’d rather not be entering into it.

“I’ll just wait here then, you won’t be long will you?” Naboo takes out his pipe as he leans against the side of the cart.

“Nope, won’t be long. But if those twins turn back up with Howard Moon give me a holler won’t ya.”

“Sure thing.” Naboo feigns nonchalance as the Hitcher enters his trunk and closes the lid, but as soon as the demon is out of sight he scuttles over to a nearby tree and digs at its roots. Shallowly hidden in the dirt is a box containing a selection of shaman type things which he’d buried there a couple of hours earlier. Quickly he opens a jar containing what looks like animal hair. It’s thick and long and brown. It’s clearly from Bollo’s mane. He adds to the jar some dark green herbs, a bluish coloured odourless liquid and a teaspoon of salt. He shakes it up, mutters a few words and then pours the whole lot over a banana.

“Time to trade in my familiar.”

Howard’s ducking low behind the tombstone of Tommy the Cheese. He’d not been this close to Tommy’s grave in a long time, and he’d taken the chance to say a quick hello before using it as a hiding spot. He didn’t mention to Tommy that he knew about Dixon being his son. He probably never would.

Howard had arrived at the cemetery gates in record time, had dismounted Bollo quickly and made his way along the fence line to Tommy’s grave. He can see a green glow radiating from the top of the cemetery but as yet has spotted no one else. He thinks that they’re probably all up there though, and he also assumes that Vince must still be alive or else things would have already taken a nasty turn for the worse. Trouble is he’s no idea how long he has left to mount some kind of rescue.

He’d left Bollo at the entrance expecting the little horse to stay put or wander off to eat some grass nearby. What he didn’t expect was for Bollo to transform into a gorilla.

“Hello Howard.”

Howard shrieks when he turns to see the large black ape standing behind him. “Oh my god, oh my god, please don’t hurt me.”

“Howard it’s me, Bollo. Me not hurt you, me here to help.”

“What?”

“Naboo fix me up. Me ape now, not horse.”

“What?”

“Snap out of it Howard.”

From the flanks of the cemetery both Jim and Jackie Piper had heard Howard’s shriek and have now met back up in the middle. They make their way down the centre towards Howard and, unbeknownst to them, Howard’s new friend.

The Hitcher sits Vince down on a stool with a ‘stay there’ and flicks to the back of his big black book of spells. He finds the index and searches the B’s looking for Babolisk Oil, “Babadook summoning, ‘Baba ghanoush poisonings, Babes in the Woods, Babbling Brooks, ah, here we go, Babolisk Oil, pages 1968 and 1973. He looks up at Vince, “I’ll have you sorted in no time.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What you say boy, you daring to ask me a question?”

“Yeah, I asked why you were doing this. I mean why really? Surely it can’t just be for power and boredom’s sake. Why do you want to screw up everybody else’s love lives so much? Have you never been in love? Is it because you’re lonely? There’s meant to be somebody out there for everybody you know.”

The Hitcher puts his hand on his heart. “There was someone once, but it was a very long time ago.”

“Really? Who?” Vince rises from his stool.

“Why the fuck would I tell you about it?”

“Because I’m asking. Because I’m interested. When was the last time you just had a chat with someone?”

“You what?”

“Well you seem to me like somebody who has a lot to get off his chest. A lot of baggage so to speak. Go one, tell me, who were you in love with?” He takes a few steps towards the table.

The Hitcher doesn’t notice Vince moving, or he doesn’t care. “Elsie Eel.”

“Elsie. That’s a nice name. And how did you meet Elsie?”

“She used to feed me eels. Owned a pie and mash shop in old London town.”

“Eels huh. Sounds delicious.” Vince makes a face of distaste. He’s standing on the other side of the table now and can see for himself the book from which the Hitcher is reading. In fact he can see all kinds of things littering the table top.

“Don’t you be knocking eels boy. Good for you they are. How do you think I’ve kept me youthful figure over the years? Eels!”

“So this Elsie, did you two break up or something?”

“Not exactly. I tricked her into thinking I was a real bloke and invited her to a dance. But once a demon always a demon and things got a bit out of hand. Needless to say Elsie didn’t leave the dance alive. Always regretted that one.”

“Oh dear god.”

“Still the past is the past and I’ve the future to think of. So shut your hole for a bit so I can get to reading.” He turns to page 1968 which is a spell on curing jet lag for time travellers. “Might come in handy one day, but not what I need.” He turns to 1973. “Hang on, this could be it.” The spell is called ‘The Highs and Lows of Babolisk: How to keep it real when you’re on the oil.’ He skim reads the page until he gets to the last paragraph which says, quite simply, ‘to rid yourself of Babolisk Oil shave your head’. “Is that it? All I have to do is butcher your barnet. Well I’ll be damned, which, of course, I am.” The Hitcher opens a drawer and removes a pair of scissors and a cut-throat razor.

Vince starts backing away to the stairs. “Oh no you don’t. No-one touches my hair without invitation, not ever, get it? There’s no way you’re cutting it off.”

“I don’t sees how you have a choice me boy. It’s just me and you, and in case you’ve forgotten from my little Elsie flashback, I’m a flamin’ demon.”

Howard spots Jim Piper just before he spots Jackie. Neither twin are trying to stay out of sight as the walk towards his hiding spot. Becoming demon slaves has made them even cockier.

Howard looks across at Bollo who’s found himself a tree trunk thick enough to conceal his large hairy body. Howard can’t help but smile. The twins have no idea what’s about to be unleashed onto them. As the Pipers get within range Howard pops up from behind the headstone and starts shooting.

In the Hitcher’s underground room the shots can’t be heard, but Naboo hears them loud and clear. The Piper’s must have found Howard. He hopes his Bollo spell has worked.

Before he can help Howard and Bollo though he needs to perform one last trick.

Naboo removes, from the bottom of the box, the very same Babolisk Oil he’d used on Vince. His motive for making the Hitcher focus on the oil in Vince was to get the demon into the chest and looking for a solution, thus giving Naboo the alone time and space to use the oil in a different way, to pour it straight into the grave.

He walks calmly to the side of the pit and tips every last drop into the bubbling vortex below. The sludge immediately stops popping and boiling. It starts thinning and turning a light shade of pink. Within seconds the foul smelling green goop has become a rather pleasant smelling pink liquid not that dissimilar in appearance to strawberry milkshake.

“There we go, that’s better. Now it’s time for Howard and Bollo to make an appearance.”

And, right on cue, Howard and Bollo come strolling up between the graves, Bollo dragging both of the Piper Twins behind him.

Naboo puts his fingers to his lips, stopping either of them from shouting out before they reach him. He beckons them over to the side of the cart.

“Well done”, whispers Naboo. He checks to make sure the twins will be out for a while before telling Bollo, “tie them up tight and put them in the back. And put the blanket over to hide them.”

Howard grabs Naboo’s shoulder. “Where’s Vince?”

“He’s alright, he’s in the trunk with the Hitcher. We’ll rescue him now. Here take this.” Naboo hands Howard a padlock. “Once Vince is out of the trunk and the Hitcher is in it you lock that chest as quick as you can. You see the opportunity you pounce. You’ll only have one shot.”

Howard nods. “Just tell me where to stand.”

“Stand behind the trunk so that if he lifts the lid he doesn’t see you. If you need to then duck behind it. One shot though Howard. Be ready.”

Bollo finishes tying up the Pipers. “What me do?”

“Stay with me. I’m going to call the Hitcher out. If he comes up first then we’ll need to let him out in order to let Vince out too. Your job is to then push him in somehow, as best as you can. If he lets Vince out first then we may be able to close the lid on him. Whatever you both do though try to grab the gold thing hanging from his neck. It’s my amulet. I need it so I can return to Xooberon. It’s important to me.”

“It all sounds a bit risky Naboo. Is it the only way?”

“I’ve stopped him from performing his cosmic terror spell, but unless we trap him he’ll not stop coming for you both. Or he’ll pick on someone else. And he’s a murderer. We have to try.”

“Okay. Lead the way Naboo.”

They all walk over to the trunk and get into position.

“Ready?”

Howard and Bollo nod.

Naboo lifts the lid of the trunk. He immediately sees Vince awkwardly backing up the stairs. It takes him a second to work out that he’s backing away from the Hitcher who seems to be armed with both a pair of scissors and a razor.

“Naboo, help me, he wants to cut off my hair.”

Vince turns and starts running upwards, but the Hitcher pounces and grabs Vince’s foot. Vince slips a couple of steps, banging his chin as he’s unable to break his fall properly with his hands tied. He kicks out at the Hitcher but the demon has a strong hold on the Deputy’s boot.

“Not so fast pretty boy. I need that hair.”

“Get off me you green jerk.” Vince kicks out again and manages to grab hold of the step above his head. He pulls himself a little closer to the exit. “Let me go!”

Back up top Naboo yells at Bollo, “Grab Vince, get him out of there.”

Bollo peers over the edge.

Both Vince and the Hitcher squeal as a huge hairy face blocks the light coming in. The Hitcher’s startled just enough to break his hold on Vince’s foot. Vince springs forward, up and into Bollo’s arms who uses all his monkey strength to yank him free of the trunk.

“Now Howard!” Naboo cries out to Howard as he slams the trunk lid down. Howard springs out from behind the trunk and fits the padlock in place. He pushes it closed with a satisfying click.

Two men, a shaman and a great ape all fall the ground, chests pounding from the sudden exertion. Vince has ended up on top of Bollo, Naboo is sitting against the side of the trunk and Howard is laying on his back.

They all take a moment.

Howard rolls over to find Vince as Vince rolls off of Bollo to find Howard. Their eyes meet and they crawl towards each other. They stand as they meet and Howard grabs Vince, kissing him over and over on the lips and face. He then pulls the shorter man into a huge hug.

“I thought I’d be too late. Thank goodness I wasn’t.”

Vince puts his cheek against Howard’s breastbone. He can hear Howard’s heart pounding away. “I thought I was dead. I’m not sure what’s worse, being fed to this pit or having my hair cut off.”

Howard kisses Vince’s head. “I’d definitely miss your hair. Here, let me untie you.”

Vince raises his hands so that Howard can undo the knots. He gently rubs Vince’s wrists, getting the blood flowing again.

Naboo and Bollo wander over.

“Me Bollo.”

Vince smiles at the ape. “So I gathered. Thank you for your help.”

Bollo looks sheepishly at the ground. “No problem. Me help friends.”

“And thank you Naboo. You saved us. You saved everybody!”

Naboo takes out his pipe and lights it. “Yeah, well I’m Naboo. It’s kind of what I do.”

“Was that true, what you told the Hitcher about the oil running through me still?”

“No, that would be long out of your system by now. But I was counting on the fact that he wouldn’t know that. Demons don’t tend to work with potions that help people, only with those that hurt. I know it meant putting you at risk a little, but I had to get him away from the grave so I could pour Babolisk Oil into it. And it worked a treat, look.”

They all take a peek into the hole.

“Sure smells better than it did.”

“So is it safe?”

“Well right now it’s changed its makeup. It was a vortex ready to be unleashed. At the Hitcher’s command it would have sought out and destroyed pure love wherever it found it by pulling that love into its empty centre. Now it’s a vortex with a purpose. Its centre is no longer empty. Exactly what exists depends on a variety of factors, but we do not know but it’ll be a more of a world and less of a nothingness. If we fill the grave in then no-one will ever know it’s here.”

“And is the Hitcher really trapped?”

Naboo taps the lid of the trunk. “He won’t get out for a very long time.”

“So we’re safe?”

“For now. I wish we’d been able to grab the amulet though. He could make some use of that.”

Vince holds up the gold ornament still hanging from its chain. “What, do you mean this?”

Naboo takes it from Vince’s hand. “How did you get it?

“I pocketed it when the Hitcher wasn’t looking. He removed it to study that big book down there. I thought it looked kind of fancy so I grabbed it.”

“Brilliant. That’s saved me all kinds of trouble.”

“And me save Vincey from bad demon.”

“Yes, Bollo you did alright.”

“Me hero.”

“Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Naboo turns to the cart. “I suppose I should sort the Piper Twins out then. Not sure if I’ll be able to undemonise them but I’ll give it a go. Bollo, come help to get them out.”

“Right.” Bollo ambles over to his master.

Howard smiles at Vince. “Not the most romantic of places to tell you that I love you.”

Vince grins back. “Aside from the near ending of the Universe it was all pretty exhilarating though wasn’t it? And you were brilliant, as usual.”

“You did you fair share too.”

“Well what are lawmen for if not for saving the day?”

Howard laughs. “It’s quite an introduction to sheriffing you’ve had.”

“Ain’t it just?”

“Still, I’m officially retired now.”

Vince smiles, “You still want out?”

Howard nods. “I’m done. Mr. White kept my badge and that makes me happy.”

“Was anyone hurt after that explosion? What was it?”

“Everyone’s fine. Someone blew the track with a stick or two of dynamite.”

“So no one got on a train then?”

“No, not today, but the track will be fixed in no time. You still happy to leave Moonstone Vince?”

“If you don’t want to stay then neither do I.”

“I know it sounds odd after fighting so hard for this town but I need a clean start.”

“Too many memories?”

“Yeah, I think so. Time to make new ones.”

“With me?”

Howard nods again, “If you fancy it, yeah.”

Vince puts his hand out towards Howard and wiggles his fingers. The Sheriff takes the Deputy’s hand into his own and squeezes. “Together?”

“Together!”

They turn towards Naboo and Bollo to see if they can help when, without warning, the air is suddenly full of the sound of gunfire and a roaring voice.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

“I’ll get you all, you fucking sons of bitches.”

Pop! Pop! Pop! Click!

They all spin towards the sound, and to the view of Mayor Bainbridge charging towards them, a pistol in each hand.

Pop! Pop!

“Die motherfuckers!”

Pop!

“Hit the deck!” The Sheriff yells above the noise whilst simultaneously unholstering his own gun.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Howard sees Naboo and Bollo dive to the floor. “Down! Stay down!” He falls to his own stomach, arms outstretched and taking aim at the Mayor. He looks up at Vince. “Fucking get down!!”

But the Deputy’s standing stock still.

“Vince!”

Bainbridge has sprinted to a halt about ten metres from them all. He’s still firing but his guns are empty. He falls to his knees. “You bastards!”

Bollo, realising the danger has passed, charges over and sits down heavily on the Mayor.

“Ooof.”

“Bollo stop crazy man.”

“Vince!” Howard’s eyes widen. Vince looks down at his shirt as a red stain starts to spread across the white linen. He puts his hand over the spot, watching as blood, bright and glistening, leaks between his fingers.

“Vince?”

The Deputy looks back at the Sheriff, his face white. “Howard, I…” He wobbles before taking a step backwards and letting his legs fold beneath him.

“VINCE!!” Howard half stumbles and half crawls over to his partner. “You’re alright little man, you’re gonna be alright.” He tears open Vince’s shirt exposing a perfect hole just below Vince’s heart. Blood is oozing out too quickly. “Naboo! Help me!” But Naboo is already at Howard’s side, whipping off his turban and pressing it against Vince’s wound.

“Help him Naboo.”

Naboo presses harder, “Shit, this is bad.” His turban is already changing from purple to maroon. He bundles the material up tighter, packing the wound as best as he can. “Talk to him Howard.”

“What?” Howard is visibly scared shitless, “Give him some of that oil man. For fuck’s sake, fix him.”

Naboo shakes his head. “I can’t, it’s all gone into the eddy. I’m really sorry Howard.”

“You have to help him. You’re a fucking shaman aren’t you? Shaman something up, do something! Naboo please!”

Naboo looks at Vince’s face. The Deputy’s eyes are open but they’re clearly having trouble focusing.

“Howard listen”, snaps Naboo, “I’m doing this”, he motions to his hands and the turban, “I’m giving you time. Use it wisely and talk to him.”

Tears burst aggressively from Howard’s eyes, but he swallows down his sobs and cradles Vince’s head in his hands.

“Vince, look at me. Come on little man, look at me.”

Vince blinks twice before finding Howard’s face. “Howard?”

“I’m here.”

“It’s not good is it?”

“You’re fine Vince. Come on now, you’re going to be fine. It’s just a flesh wound.”

Vince tries to smile but his body shudders and he wheezes instead. “I’m dying.”

“Vince please, save your breath a moment. You need your strength.”

“I can feel it, like a cold chill spreading through my body, death’s icy fingers.” Vince coughs and a small trickle of blood appears at the corner of his mouth.

Howard quickly wipes it away. “No Vince, you’re not dying, I won’t let you.” He wipes the fringe from Vince’s forehead. “Just focus on me yeah.”

“Are you crying?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Fuck, it is bad then.”

Howard kisses Vince’s hand. “Just relax.”

Vince closes his eyes. “I’ll never get to hear you play piano for me now. I so wanted to hear you. And I’m a great front man Howard. We could have toured.”

“Shhh!”

“He got me proper didn’t he, the Mayor I mean? I can’t believe he’s finally killed me.”

“You’re not dead. I love you Vince. What will you wear tomorrow do you think?”

“You’re trying to change the subject Howard, but I know I’m going. I can feel it. But I love you too and thanks for everything.”

“Vince, stop!”

“No Howard, I’ve not got long. I have to tell you that I understand now.”

“What?”

“That I’m supposed to die Howard. I get it. I can sense it.”

“Don’t say this. I love you. Stay with me.”

“I can’t, not now. Don’t you see Howard, Naboo said as much. We can’t be together, not here, not like this. We…us…we’re too much, we’re too big, too consuming. We have to part. To win we must lose.”

“Vince”, Howard’s tears are dripping off his chin, “You know I’m not sure about all this fate and destiny and soul mate stuff. I just want you. Nothing else matters. Please, you’ve got to stay with me.”

Vince opens his eyes and Howard is yet again hit by the flash of blue. Vince tugs on Howard’s arm encouraging the bigger man to lean in, “Kiss me Howard, before it’s too late.”

“I’m not saying goodbye”, Howard wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, “I’m not saying fucking goodbye”. He grabs Naboo’s hand, “Please Naboo, make him okay.”

“He’s not got long. I’m sorry.”

“No Naboo, stop it.”

“Howard. Howard!” Vince reaches for Howard again and pulls as hard as he can, “Come here.”

“I can’t”.

“Please, I love you, please. Please!” Vince pulls again. “Kiss me.”

“I can’t.”

“I thought it would hurt, death I mean. I thought it would really hurt, but I can’t feel anything. I’m not in pain. But I do feel a bit scared. Please, kiss me. I don’t want to be scared. I need you. Please hold me and kiss me.”

“I love you.”

“I know. Hold me.”

Howard lifts the top half of Vince into his lap, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s neck and chest in a warm embrace. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I regret nothing. I love you.”

“I love you too, with all I am and all I have to give. I love you Vince.”

Howard bends into Vince, placing his lips upon those of his true love.

Vince kisses back…

…until he doesn’t.

…

…

…

Naboo squeezes Howard’s arm. “Leave him be Sheriff.”

Howard pulls Vince even tighter to his chest and rocks him, tears streaming down his face. “What the fuck Naboo? How can this be fair?”

“It’s not.”

“What did Vince ever do to anybody? He doesn’t deserve to go out like this.”

“No.”

Howard kisses Vince’s head before carefully laying him to the ground. He strokes the Deputy’s face, runs his finger across Vince’s lips. His tears keep flowing. “All he’s had since he met me is danger and violence. This beautiful man, I ruined him and I’ve killed him.”

“No Howard, this isn’t on you. And he’s not dead yet. Not quite yet anyway. We’ve still a little time. Make your peace.”

“What do you mean?”

“Vince is right, this is how it should be.”

“You expect me to believe this was meant to happen?” You expect me to accept that Vince was due this horrible death in order to save the Universe? Well fuck the universe and fuck you. It makes no fucking sense.”

“Howard please. I know you’re angry but yes, I think this was always going to happen.”

“Angry doesn’t come close. Fucking Bainbridge!” Howard picks his gun up off the ground and storms over to where Bollo is still sitting on the Mayor. “You piece of evil shit.” He points the gun at the Mayor’s head. “You killed him, you rotten scum, you killed the only thing I’ve ever truly loved. Why?” Howard shakes his gun. “I asked why?”

Dixon shields his face with his arm. “Because I hate you”.

Howard kneels down right in front of the Mayor and pulls the arm away. “You shot Vince because you hate me. Is that it, really? Petty hate.” He cocks his gun and puts the barrel against Dixon’s forehead. “I should kill you, right here and right now.”

“Go on then, or are you chicken?”

Howard’s finger twitches over the trigger, fury and grief racing through him, yelling at him to pull the trigger and end this nightmare once and for all.

“No Howard.” Naboo rests his hand on Howard’s shoulder. “He’s not worth it, and it’ll destroy you. Besides you need to come with me now if you want to save Vince.”

Howard takes a breath and de-cocks the hammer. He walks back to Vince and sits down next to his partner, taking the Deputy’s hand into his own. “He looks like he’s sleeping.”

Naboo sits cross legged, across from Howard. “Are you ready to hear what you have to do?”

“Will it bring Vince back to me?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Howard looks up into Naboo’s eyes. “Don’t bullshit me shaman.”

“I’m not. Vince is dying, he’s got mere minutes left, but there’s a way for him to live again.”

“I don’t understand. How?”

“Magic, a little bit of luck, and the sacrifice we talked about earlier.”

“Vince has been shot, isn’t that sacrifice enough?” He holds Vince’s hand against his cheek. “I don’t know if I can take much more.”

“Just a little more Howard, you just need to take a little more.”

“I do love him Naboo.”

“I know you do, and for a few glorious days that love shined brighter than any star. It closed rifts and healed wounds from one side of the cosmos to the other. And here, today, your love helped save the whole Universe. But love can manifest itself in a hundred different ways, even true love. It doesn’t have to be like this, full of physical passion and intense desire. It can be a love between friends. Mates too can be star-crossed, destined to meet and live a full and happy life together. It’s this that I offer to you and Vince today. I’m offering you a world of friendship to save Vince’s life. The sacrifice is you’ll no longer see each other as physical partners. Well you might a bit, but not really. Basically you’ll be sacrificing one type of love for another.”

Naboo stops speaking. He studies Howard’s face.

The Sheriff doesn’t really know how to answer or what to ask. He kisses Vince’s hand. “I don’t want Vince to die.”

“Then this is your only option.”

Howard nods and lays Vince’s hand down. “What do I have to do?”

Naboo stands up. “Good. It’s the right call Howard. And it’s simple really. The pit is full of Babolisk Oil. Step through it and Vince will be cured. You too will find every bit of damage to your body disappears. But if you step through you’ll end up in another world somewhere through time and space. I know not where, I just know that when you emerge through the other side you will no longer see Vince as your lover you’ll see him as your best friend, and all your memories of here, of Moonstone, of everything, will have disappeared and been replaced with a mash-up of random memories selected for you by the vortex.”

“Can’t we just sort of wallow in the pit, cure ourselves and remain here.”

“No, it’s a vortex. It’ll suck you straight through. Once you’re in that’s it.”

“So it’s no more Monty, no more Bob Fossil, and no more Bainbridge?”

“I don’t think so, but who knows what’s on the other side, or how your new world will evolve around you.”

“Evolve around us? Do you mean it’s created for us?”

“Sort of, it’s more like it’s created from you. The Vortex will set you up somewhere, using what it gains from your brains and your bodies as you pass through. The world then continues to grow from your collective experience, yours and Vince’s. How you respond to situations, your emotions, your choices, everything will come into play. Some of your traits will be exaggerated, some will be downplayed. You’ll still be you, but it’ll be a different version of you”. Naboo bends down and presses his fingers to the side of Vince’s neck. “I’m sorry Howard but his pulse is fading fast. You have to decide for sure, it’s now or never.”

“Yes, now, I’ll do it now before I change my mind. How do we get in there?”

Naboo gestures to Vince. “You’ve carried him before haven’t you? Pick him up and step in.”

“Into the pit?”

“Yes. It won’t hurt, I promise.”

Howard leans down next to Vince and strokes the Deputy’s face one last time. He scoops him up in his arms, memories of having done this before flooding back, memories that are about to be extinguished forever. He kisses Vince’s forehead and once more Vince’s lips before moving to the side of the pit.

“Naboo, I’m not sure how much of a part you played in everything, how much the Universe did, or how much was Vince and me acting alone, but I want to thank you for helping to give me the happiest few days of my life. I hope I see you again one day.”

Naboo takes a small bow. “Goodbye Howard Moon and goodbye Vince Noir. It’s been my pleasure.”

Howard steps forward and into the vortex.

---

[nextpage title=”Come With Us To…”]

Come With Us To…

There’s a low screech of brakes as Dennis, head of the shaman council, pulls his carpet up next to Naboo.

“We’ve been looking for you Naboo. We got your message asking for help. I did send Kirk but he hasn’t come back yet. Then Tony Harrison said he couldn’t reach the door handles and Saboo said he’d sorted it. But the Universe said you were still in trouble so I decided to come and see for myself. What can I do?”

“Nothing, you’re too late.”

“But it’s only lunchtime.”

“I told you to get here by 11am. Can’t you buy a watch?”

“I have no need for a watch, I travel by the sun and the moon and the stars.”

“Well clearly you need some lessons in navigation because it’s all over red rover. I saved everyone myself, with a bit of help from the humans. Baboo Yagu is trapped in his own trunk, and Howard and Vince have stepped through the vortex into a new world.”

“And this is your familiar now?”

“Yes, this is Bollo.”

“Hello”, greets Bollo, still seated on top of Dixon Bainbridge.

“Charmed I’m sure, but you can’t let them go through the vortex on the own Naboo, they’re still going to need guidance. They can’t be trusted on their own, especially with the forces of the cosmos still fluctuating around them.”

“What are you saying? Do you expect me to follow them through? No way! I’m knackered! And I’ve a whole series of Grand Designs to catch up on. This was only meant to be a temporary assignment.”

“Yes, but you’re so good at what you do. And you’ve grown to like Howard and Vince haven’t you?”

“I’ve grown to like THIS Howard and Vince. Who knows what they’ll be like on the other side? They could be a right pair of ballbags.”

“Well I’ve made my decision. You have to go.”

Naboo does not look happy, but he has little choice in the matter. The shaman council’s ruling is final. If he doesn’t do as he’s asked then his powers can be stripped immediately.

“Okay, but on a couple of conditions.”

“Speak them.”

“One; Bollo comes.”

“Granted.”

“And two, I take this with me.” He holds up the amulet. “It was given to me by the King of Xooberon many moons ago. I need access to Xooberon in case I want to, you know, clear my head for a bit.”

Dennis ponders this request and then agrees. “But no visiting the Fountain of Youth.”

“Okay. See you around then Dennis.”

“Bye for now Naboo. And good luck.”

“Bollo, leave him and come over here, we’re moving towns.”

“Where to?”

“I’ve no idea, but it’s got to beat living in a cave.”

Naboo pushes Bollo into the pit and then jumps in after him.

Howard opens one eye and then the other. He smacks his lips, his mouth is dry for some reason. He rolls to his side and sees Vince lying next to him, flat on his back and dead to the world.

He sits up and rubs his eyes. How did he get here, in the ocelot enclosure? How did Vince? They both know better than to fall asleep with a wild animal.

He shakes Vince. “Wake up, wake up.”

Vince murmurs something about falling.

“Yes Vince, you have fallen, fallen asleep on the job. Now wake up.”

“What’s that?” Vince sits bolt upright, sprung out of his slumber, “what’s happening?”

“I don’t know, we seem to have crashed out in here.”

“Why?”

“I said, I don’t know.”

“Well we’d better get out before Mr. Fossil sees us.”

They drag each other to their feet and brush of the hay and sawdust. A quick look arounds tell them the ocelot is up in a tree and they race out of the enclosure before she can either jump on their heads.

“Phew, that was close.”

“What were we doing in their Howard? Did somebody put us there? I don’t even remember feeling tired.”

“Me neither. How’s about we get ourselves a nice cup of tea to settle our nerves. I think we could do with one.”

“Sounds great, and I might have a packet of Frazzles.”

“Frazzles? That’s hardly a working man’s food. What you need is something substantial like I eat, something healthy, something like this trail mix.”

“Trail mix. Eurgh! Looks like you’ve grabbed that out of the parrot cage.”

“Well parrots do have a lot of energy don’t they.”

“If you’re so full of energy why did you fall asleep?”

“You always have to be knocking me don’t you Vince. Always making fun of my ways.”

“I’m not knocking you, I just hate trail mix is all. Come on, I’ll make you that cuppa.”

As Howard and Vince reach the zoo keeper’s hut Vince suddenly exclaims, “What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

“This.” From his pocket Vince pulls out a small star-shaped silver badge. On its front it’s says Deputy Sheriff.

“Looks like yet another trinket to add to your ever growing pile.”

“Cool. I don’t know where it came from but I like it.” Vince pins it to his jacket, right above where he’d painted Noir in Tippex. “Ha-ha, look Howard. I’m a Sheriff.”

“No you’re a Deputy. If anyone’s Sheriff around here it’s me.”

“Well where’s your badge then?”

“It’s coming. It’s in the post.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Howard pushes Vince inside the door of the keeper’s hut. “Shut up and put the kettle on.”

He closes the door behind them.

Over on the other side of the zoo the shutter to a kiosk is slowly raised to reveal Naboo standing behind the counter and looking less than impressed.

THE END Xx

---

Afterword

Disclaimer: The Mighty Boosh and all related characters of course belong to Noel and Julian, Dave and Rich and Mike. I love them and I hope they don’t mind me messing with them in some very peculiar ways. No money is being made from this effort.