Stormy Weather

This is set after my Tundra fic, Hula Hoops, which puts them in a relationship with each other, and also Post Charlie. Now, like Hula Hoops, this is mostly dialogue.


Characters: ,


Genre: , ,



Length: words

Notes: I wrote this during my study period at college today. I was sitting there with my pen and paper, thinking of something to write, when this annoying girl who I don’t really know, but for some reason she has latched onto me kept talking to me and distracting me, and this is what turned out. WARNING: This is not as funny as hula hoops, while there are some comic moments (I hope) it will take a turn for the angsty side.

Extra Notes: For those unfamiliar with Yop! It is a yogurt drink.

Stormy Weather by cailenbraern



“What are you doing?”

Howard sighs

“What do you think I’m doing? Hmm? Ice-skating with Madame Bovary? I’m writing a novel. Yeah? It’s very difficult when you keep pestering me.”

“A novel?”

“That’s right, Junior.”

“Not again…”

“Look, I’m a writer Vince, I keep on creating one masterpiece after another.”

“As if! You write one sentence, send it off to McFarnaby, get depressed when he doesn’t return your calls and wander around the flat naked, drinking cocktails of beer and Yop!”

“Why doesn’t he return my calls, eh? I didn’t hit him!”

“He thinks you’re a freak!”




“You knocked Mrs. Gideon’s lights out!”

“Whatever, alright? Just pipe down will you? I’m trying to create.”

The wind howls outside the hut.


“It’s not me!”

“I’m not falling for it again!”

“It’s not me! Look!”

Howard turns round to look at Vince, who is staring out of the window behind Howard.

“Well none of the windows are open…”

“Howard, look!”

Vince points to the window, where the litter contents of the zoo can be seen swirling around in the fierce wind. A loud clap of thunder sounds outside their hut and torrents of rain begin to fall.

“Oh I don’t believe this! It’s closing in five minutes.”

“We can’t go out in that, Vince!”

“What, we’re stuck here?”

“Hey, it’ll be alright! Yeah? We’ve camped in here before on many an occasion.”

“We did that once!”

“We had a good time, didn’t we?”

Vince nods reluctantly

“Right, ok. What we need to do is go out there, get any of the public under shelter…”


“…you take the Reptile house and the Monkey enclosure…”


“I’ll take the…what?”

“There’s no one here.”

“What do you mean?”

“No one stays ‘til closing.”

“…Oh yeah.”

Vince folds up his magazine and drops it to the floor, wrapping his scarf tighter and shivering slightly.

“I’m just going to check those windows again.”

“They’re all shut, Howard. D’you think we should ask Fossil for central heating in ‘ere?”

“I think you’d have to get your own hut for him to give you central heating.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you suggest anything to Fossil that has any chance of making my life here a bit more comfortable, he ain’t gonna buy it.”

“Is he still bossing you around?”

“He doesn’t…look, he doesn’t like me, I don’t like him, it’s a mutual relationship.”

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for stuff we can burn. Paper, pencils, ah!”

Howard picks up Vince’s discarded magazine

“You can’t burn that!”

“You’re not reading it Vince.”

“Not at the moment, but what if I want to plan my wardrobe. I need to know what’s in and what’s out.”

“Vince, we’re stuck in here all night, fashion’s the least of your problems.”

“Well, burn your novel then!”


“You’ve got loads of papers on your desk.”

“We’re not burning those.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re important to me, Vince. Yeah? I’ve poured my heart and soul into my novel, I’m not burning it.”

“But you’re gonna burn my stuff?”

“One silly magazine, Vince. It doesn’t equal my hard work and effort!”

“Give me that!”

Vince makes a grab for the magazine, but Howard whips his hand back so Vince grabs hold of his wrist instead.

“You’re not cold.”

“What? Course I am! Brr, freezing! Come on then, let’s get this fire on then!”

Howard wriggles out of Vince’s grasp and walks over to the fireplace, stuffing it with the various paraphernalia he’s gathered.



“Are you doing this for me?”

Howard turns from the fireplace to look at Vince, an annoyed look on his face

“Well yeah, I am Vince. Is there something wrong with that?”

Vince smiles, wrapping his arms tight across his chest.

“No. No, there isn’t. Thanks, Howard.”

Howard finds himself smiling back at Vince.

“No problem, little man.”

“Last time we stayed here, we were just friends.”

“We’re still friends Vince, along with the obvious.”

“There might be some beer in the fridge. Perhaps you’ll get naked and walk around like you do at home.””

“There’s no Yop! No nakedness without Yop, Vince!”

Vince pouts in pretend hurt.

“Fancy a cuppa?”

“Do we still have power?”

“Lights are on.”

“Yeah, alright. That’d be lovely. Chuck us the matches on the table.”

“Here you go”


Howard starts to light the fire while Vince puts the kettle on and takes a look in the fridge.

“We’ve got milk!”


“Well it’s like Yop!”

“Nobody gets naked for milk, Vince.”

“What about cream?”

“Just make the brew, would you? No, sit down, I’ll do it.”

“I can manage the tea, Howard!”

“Just shoosh your lips up and sit down, alright?”

“Are you sure you haven’t been drinking?”

“What are you on about?”

“Well…you’re being nice!”

“Is it really that shocking?”


“Well it’s different now.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Us, we’re…think of another word for lovers and that’s us.”

“What’s wrong with lovers?”

“It just sounds weird to describe our relationship in that way.”

“We are though, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we are. Either that or I’ve been having very realistic dreams.”

“That’s the Yop, its like cheese.”

“Look, shut up about the Yop, yeah? Here, four sugars, right?”

“Ahh, cheers Howard.”

“You still cold?”

“No, it’s nice in here.”

“Well it’s not going to last.”


“The fire’s dying down already. We need something else to burn.”

“There’s nothing left.”

“There’s the wardrobe.”

“No way!”

“Vince, there’s nothing in there! I don’t even know why we keep it.”

“You can’t burn a wardrobe! That’s like, blasphemy or something.”

“Blasphemy? Vince, it’s a wardrobe, not the Holy Grail.”

“It’s a symbol!”

“A symbol? What, of moths?”

“Of fashion!”

“Do you ever think about anything else?”

“I’m a simple man! And one of us has to look good!”

“How dare you.”

“Look, I didn’t mean-”

“You think I look bad?”

“No! I-”

“You look at my face, there’s nothing there? Just a pink balloon on a stick.”

“I used to think that!”

“Oh? What now then? A peach balloon?”


“Forget it, alright? Just, drink your tea.”

Howard gets up and picks up the fork hanging off the wall. He swings it at the wardrobe, splitting the wood for the fire. Vince clutches his mug tightly, wincing as each blow strikes loudly and forcibly. He can see Howard is tense, like a brandy snap, and hates himself for putting his foot in his mouth again. He contemplates apologising, but knows that Howard is in one of his moods, and will not listen until he’s calmed down.

Having mutilated the wardrobe enough, Howard gathers up as much wood as he can carry in his arms, and takes it over to the fireplace, placing each bit in, one at a time. Vince puts his mug down on the floor and creeps over to Howard’s desk, leafing through the sheaves of paper. He spots his name on one of them and picks it up, reading it with intrigue.


“Shut up! I’m not talking to you.”

“I wake up most mornings feeling worthless and rejected, with no sense of purpose in life, and feel utter hatred towards myself for being so useless at everything, except Jazz, which incidentally he hates.”

Howard looks up sharply from the fireplace, horror splashed across his face.

“No, no, no, no! Put that down, Vince!”

Vince ignores him and carries on reading.

“I still feel like that when I wake up in the mornings, but when I look over, and see him, sleeping so peacefully and content, I can never remember the reason why I felt so awful, because seeing him sleeping next to me, in my bed, just makes me feel proud of myself, that I’ve made something of my life.”

Howard, still kneeling besides the fire as if frozen and unable to move, looks up at Vince, his eyes pleading. When he speaks, it is with a quiet and timid voice.

“Please stop.”

Vince looks down at him, unused to hearing him beg, and seeing something in his eyes that made him want to stop reading and just hug him, but his curiosity was too great.

“No way! You’ve written stuff about me, that is so cool!”


“But even as I’m writing this now, with him in the room, making me smile with his inane comments and childlike behaviour, I’m counting down the days before it all ends.”

Vince stops reading and stares at Howard, anger rising within him.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“What? No, you idiot!”

Vince looks back down at the piece of paper and keeps reading

“I’ve never been in a serious relationship before, if ours is a serious relationship that is. Vince is so great; He’s young, free, no cares, and no worries in the world. I don’t deserve him. Sooner or later, he’ll see me for the fake that I am. He’ll see the real me. The old, boring, useless spanner. He’s too good to waste his time with me, and I count down the days until he realises this.”

“Times like these that make you wish there wasn’t a storm outside so you could storm out dramatically.”

Vince walks over to Howard by the fire and kneels down. Before Howard knows what is happening, he throws the piece of paper in the fire.

“What are you doing?!”

“Burning it.”

“You can’t…that’s my thoughts, my personal thoughts and feelings. You don’t have the right to burn it!”

“I do, because it’s rubbish.”


“It’s rubbish. I know you’re a useless spanner.”

“Nice to see you’re being subtle with the broken man, Vince.”

“I never believed a word you said to me. Do you really think I did?”

“Well, yeah.”

“It was rubbish, like that note. I know you, Howard, I know what you’re like, what makes you happy, what pisses you off. I’ve known you for 10 years, I know everything you’ve told me that’s true, and I know everything you’ve lied about. Although I never realised how insecure you are.”

“I’m not insecure!”

Vince glares at him.

“Ok, maybe I am a little.”

“The point is, I love you. And I’m not going anywhere fast.”

“Well it’s still raining out.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. Thanks Vince, that means a lot.”

“No problem. Oh, by the way…”


I think you’re very sexy!”


“Definitely. In fact, now that we’ve got a proper fire going, and we’re all clear about the state of our relationship, I’ve got a little present for you.”

“It’s not a wig, is it?”

“No. Here.”

Vince takes out a small bottle from his jacket and tosses it to Howard, who smiles sheepishly.


“That’s right, small eyes. Strip for Vincey!”

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