Drunk

Author's Note: Don't worry, I haven't gone fanfic posting crazy, this is just a little story I wrote a while ago to help shift the writer's block. Enjoy! :D

Disclaimer: Come with us now on a journey through time and space, to the world of the Mighty Boosh- that is not owned by me. Sorry, that wasn't a very poetic and interesting disclaimer, was it? (It's 2:04am; comedy has tucked itself up in its sleeping bag for the night)

Howard yawned and looked up at the clock on the wall with tired eyes. It was two o'clock in the morning.

Christy.

What was Vince going to have done this time? Or perhaps he wouldn't present him with the truth but a beautiful, sculpted, fantastical and utterly ridiculous lie; perhaps he had been carried off by unicorns with golden wings, or maybe a monkey wearing a hat had stolen his jacket, no, even better, perhaps he'd stopped for a chat with a talking hexagon.

Howard dragged himself out of his thoughts and yawned again, looking at his emergency mobile waiting patiently on the table in front of him in the living room. He'd had more than enough. By the time Vince came home from his night out with the trendy elite, there'd be no point in going to bed because he'd have to get back up again and open the shop.

He knew he shouldn't have been surprised that Vince was late, and he wasn't really, but before vanishing out the door into a crowd of people, he'd told him he'd be back by one, because they had an early start tomorrow, and it was now two o'clock- eight minutes past that now too, in fact.

He waited for another thirty minutes before he decided to give up and go to bed. He had contemplated sending him a message, but his phone would be off no doubt or he wouldn't even hear it ring over the sound of rowdy drunken singing on his way to the next club, or perhaps he would already be in a club and not hear it over the low, heavy, heart-yanking beat of the music.

Just as he was planning to leave the room, he heard the ring of the shop's bell. At last.

Still angry he headed down into the shop, wondering what state the glitter bug of Kentish Town would be in; perhaps the drunken one-man cockney rabble? Or maybe the flirty, giggling girl-boy after too many flirtini's who laughed like Sunflash?

He stood and watched his drunken friend try to figure out how to shut the door again, folding his arms across his chest and shivering as the icy wind from outside blew in, glad that he was in a warm jumper and trousers and not Vince's get-up; a pair of tight fitting black jeans and a flimsy top with what seemed like far too many deliberate rips and tears in, revealing his pale skin underneath.

Vince stumbled against the door, letting out a high-pitched and rather Sunflash-like laugh, tripping over his heels.

'Vince...' Howard sighed, as Vince fell into things, 'V- Vince! Be careful, be careful, mind Stationery Village sir!' he lunged forward, guiding Vince swiftly away from precious Stationery Village in one sweep.

Vince, in his arms, giggled again, 'Howard... yer big strong Northern arms...'

'Yeah...' Howard sighed, as Vince threw his head back to look into Howard's eyes with his own drowsy, watery blue ones, his onyx hair falling onto his prominent cheekbones, 'you er, have a good night, did you?'

Vince replied by smiling up at him, but then his smile turned into a frown, 'No...' he said, 'No... cos... someone... they pulled my hair, an' that's not allowed to happen, ever... no one's allowed to touch my hair... Howard...'

'Have you been in a fight, Little Man...?' Howard asked, his anger going out the window with the 'don't touch me' rule.

The 'don't touch me' rule always went out of the window every time Vince came back from a night out. It would be impossible to get him up the stairs and out of harm's way otherwise.

Vince giggled again in response, as Howard held him at arm's length and looked over him, 'Think so... a bit...'

'Well, you look okay,' Howard told him, yawning involuntarily, 'I wish you wouldn't do this to yourself Little Man,' he forgot to tell Vince that he was going to let go of him and the younger man fell on his arse, looking up at him with blue puppy-dog eyes.

'Why, Howard?' he asked, as Howard took hold of his hands and pulled him up again.

'Because I care about you, don't I sir?' Howard sighed in response, 'You know that, don't you?'

Vince nodded, leaning against Howard, his arms up around his neck, 'you shouldn't...' he whispered, 'M' not... m' not very nice to you...'

'Hey now, don't be silly Little Man,' Howard replied, surprised to her Vince say such a thing, 'I know you don't mean the things you say...'

Vince nodded in reply, 'I love ya really... I pretend like I don't sometimes... but I do...'

Howard smiled, 'Yeah, I love you too, Vince,'

There was the sudden quiet sound of a small shaman clearing his throat pointedly, in the doorway,

'That's really touching but d'you think you ballbags might go to sleep now?'

That's it,

Da story's done,

It's... over now...

Go way...

I gotta be everywhere at once, and I got a shootin' star in one eye and da space dust in the other,

I can't see!

Way you go!

Or did you already go way...?

If you've went away, then...

...

...

Ehh...

I'm da moon...