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

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?”

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