Random little fic that came into my mind and refused to leave (even though I asked nicely) until I wrote it down. Hope you like!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Boosh or any of the characters. They are just my favourite play-things.

I walk into the flat and see him sat on the sofa in the dark.

"Howard? Why'd you leave early?"

"How could you do that to me, Vince?"

I pause. "Do what?"

"You know what. You humiliated me Vince."

"Come on, Howard, it was just a joke!"

"A joke? I didn't find it a joke." he stands up and starts to leave the room, trying to get away from me.

"Come on, Howard, don't be like that! I'm sorry!"

"That's not good enough anymore."

I blink, momentarily stunned. "What?"

"It's not enough Vince."

"W-what do you mean?" I'm thrown. This isn't how it works. One of us fucks up, they apologise, the other forgives them and everything goes back to normal.

"I can't do this anymore. The way you treat me in front of other people…I can't do this. I need to have more respect for myself."

"What're you on about; 'respect for yourself'? I'm not that bad, it's just joking around! Howard, we're mates…"

"But we're not, are we Vince?" He looks at me then, and his eyes look so…tired and dull. Like the light's been sucked out of them. "I don't know what we are, but we're not

mates. Haven't been for a long time."

"Course we have!" he turns and walks away from me into the bedroom. I follow, eyes widening as he takes out a case and starts putting stuff in it. "What're you doing?"


"Howard please don't do this. Please."

"And what would change if I stayed, hmm? Nothing. I can't go on being the fall guy for you, Vince."

"Yeah…well…you won't leave! You need me. You need me as much as I need you!"

He looks at me again, considering me. "That's the problem." He says softly. Then he picks up his bag and heads for the door.

"Go then! You'll be back; you won't last five minutes without me!"

He turns back then and I stare at him; waiting for some pathetic denial or witty retort. But all he does is shake his head at me before turning and disappearing into the night.


So that's what happened. Why I lost my best friend.

And you know what the worst part is? He never raised his voice. Throughout the whole exchange he never once shouted; just spoke in this weird defeated voice. He never yelled at me.

I think I might have felt better if he'd only yelled at me.


I jump as the voice penetrates my thoughts. "Yes sir?"

"Do I pay you to daydream?"

I turn back to my paperwork, face turning red.

"I said, do I pay you to daydream?!"

I sigh inwardly. Wanker. "No Mr Jefferson. Sorry, Mr. Jefferson."

"Ok. Don't let me catch you not working again, or you'll find yourself unemployed Noir."

I watch him as he walks away, biting back the urge to tell him he can stick his job where the sun don't shine. I need this job; no-where else will take me.

Mr Jefferson is my boss at the office I work in. Naboo re-located the Nabootique to Spain about 2 years ago, and I didn't want to leave. So I ended up here, in a job I hate with a boss who hates me. It really isn't fair; I never met anyone who didn't like me before. It seems like a shitty joke that when I do, they're the one in charge of signing my paycheque and giving me my workload.

"You ok, Vince?"

I smile at the woman in the cubical next to mine. "Yeah, genius."

She smiles back. "Don't worry about him. He couldn't really fire you."

"Sometimes I wish he would," I sigh.

"Why don't you just quit?"

"Nicole, I've got not even got any GCSEs. I only got this job coz my old boss did a favour for Jefferson's old man. If I don't have this job I'm screwed."

"You fancy coming out for a drink tonight? Seems like you need cheering up."

"Sorry, Nicole. Maybe some other time."

"Well, if you're sure." She looks slightly disappointed, but I can't help that.

Somehow I manage to make it through the rest of the day. I walk home in a daze, not really looking where I'm going so it almost comes as a shock to find myself outside my front door. I let myself in, hoping I'll be alone…

"Oi, Vince! That you mate?"

No such luck. "Yeah. Hi Andy."

"You coming out tonight? There's a couple of girls gonna be there; totally desperate slappers so it's a sure thing!"

"Nah. Not really in the mood."

I escape into my room and shut the door. Andy's great, but he's not exactly the best flat mate. I sometimes miss being able to come home and find Bollo in the kitchen making something for me; or Naboo looking for someone to test some sort of spell; or Howard…

But this is my life now. And I have to live with it.

I'm dreaming. I know I'm dreaming, because I recognise the church in front of me. I used to come here as a kid and I loved it, but the place has long since been torn down. It's been a long time since I had one of these dreams. It's an old recurring dream I used to have.

A dream about my funeral.

I never told anyone I had them, not sure if its normal to dream of your own funeral, seems a bit weird. It's always the same though; the crowds of people crying for me, anyone who's ever rejected me sobbing how they'd missed the love of their life…

Only this time when I enter the church it's different. It's over half empty to start with. And people aren't crying or grieving, they're yawning and looking bored; listening to their iPod or texting. A couple of people are even giggling about something.

"Can we get this over with already?" I hear one girl complain looking at her watch, "I'm getting my nails done at 4."

"I can't believe I'm missing the football for this!"

These people don't care. They're acting like my death is some big inconvenience…

I run out of the church unable to take any more. When did it change? I used to love this dream, hearing all the nice things people would say about me, (I know technically I would be the one thinking them, but who cares?).

Then I see someone standing at the gates, talking to what looks like the minister.

"You here for the funeral? I hear him ask.

"No. just came to drop these off." Says the man, holding up some cheap looking flowers.

"Did you know the deceased?"

"Yeah. Used to work with him."

The minister smiles, looking a little desperate. "Any chance you could say a few words? No-one else wants to."

The man checks his watch. "Sorry, no. I have places to be." He looks up. "Besides, I wouldn't have anything nice to say." He walks away from the church and the minster shrugs, heading back inside.

I wake up, face wet and my bed sheets twisted round my ankles, trying to slow my breathing which is coming out in choked little sobs.

They say you can't feel pain in dreams, but as I watched Howard walk away from the church I swear I felt my heart crack. And it hurt.

A week later and I'm stood outside a jazz club. The one where I know Howard works.

I don't know why I'm here, except that that dream I had the other day really scared me. I mean, who wants a funeral where no-one wants to be there? I feel a sudden rush of understanding about why Howard was angry about his piss-poor funeral back at the zoo.

A woman gives me a weird look as she walks out of the club. I stare after her confused, wondering whether my hair looks bad or something. Why did she look at me like that?

Then I realise; I was standing in this same spot about an hour ago when she first went in. Oops.

Why am I even here? This is stupid, it's been three years since I last saw Howard; why this sudden desire to talk to him? I turn to leave, but then a voice stops me in my tracks.

A familiar northern voice.


I turn. "Um…hey, Howard."

He doesn't look pleased to see me. I mean, he doesn't look annoyed or anything; just like he doesn't really care but still a bit surprised. The way you'd greet a neighbour you never speak to who suddenly turned up on your doorstep. "What're you doing here?"

"I was just…umm…passing through and I thought I'd look in on you."

"How do you know where I work?"

Oh. I know where he works because I've been keeping track of him since he left. Not in a stalker-ish way or anything, just…but I don't want him knowing that. "Leroy mentioned it." This is half true. He told me Howard worked in 'some jazz shit hole', but he never mentioned the name. Luckily Howard doesn't seem to question my explanation.


I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn't. "You look good." I tell him, then cringe inwardly as I realise that's the sort of thing you say when you meet an ex, not when you meet an old friend.

"Thanks." He looks awkward.

"So…do you want to grab a coffee or something?"

He checks his watch and glances back towards the club. I can tell he's trying to think of an excuse not to go with me.

It surprises me how much that hurts, actually.

"Of course, if you're busy now you can name a time you are free?" I see a cornered look come over his face. That's a trick I learned when I was younger and wanted to go out with someone. If you specify a date and time, people can claim to be busy. Tell them to name a time and they're forced to meet with you. I mean, no-one can claim to be busy forever can they?

"Sure. We can get one now." He says, then looks back at the jazz club as though hoping it's suddenly gonna fall down or catch fire or something. Anything that would mean he had to take a rain-check.


"So, how are you?" I ask five minutes later, once we're both sat at the café table with our drinks.


"You like working at the jazz club?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's…good."

"Exciting work is it?" I ask sarcastically, and am rewarded by a small chuckle.
"Compared to the Nabootique, I wouldn't call it exciting, no. but I do like it, I work with great people."

I don't like the way he implies he didn't work with 'great people' at the Nabootique.

"What about you, you still working there?"

I look up at him in surprise. "Naboo moved to Spain about 2 years ago!"

"Oh. Nice of him to mention it."

Oh shit, now he looks pissed off. "I'm working in an office now."

His eyebrows shoot up. "An office? You??"

"Why do you say it like that?"

"Oh, no reason." He takes a drink of his coffee, but I still catch the small smirk on his face. "So, do you like it?"

I pull a face. "No, I hate it. My boss is a total git, and it's boring as hell."

He smiles again. God, he's got such a nice smile.

"I miss you."

I only realise I've spoken out loud when Howard chokes on his coffee. Shit.

"I'm sorry?" Howard asks.

I take a deep breath. "I miss you. I miss the crimping and the banter and stuff. It hasn't been the same without you."

Howard looks at me for a long moment.

And that's the end of part 1! Don't want to make it too long or it might put people off reading

will be a two parter (or a three parter if I get more ideas.), but I still haven't decided whether I'm going to have a nice happy ending or an angsty one! What would people like to see?

Reviews are genius x