yay final part of the ultimate accessory
so i finally finished it.
it's twice as long as every other part cos i just wanted to finish it.
a/n: i used flickety knife instead of flick knife because noel uses it and it's amusing, and i used the german spelling of hello which is hallo because i'm cool like that.
Howard and Vince sat in the bin men’s truck.
Vince was smirking at Howard and Howard was awkwardly playing with his hands. “You’ll never guess what happened to me the other day.”
“Oh yeah? Get kidnapped by a scarecrow and taken on skis around Camden?”
Vince pouted. “‘Ow’d you know?” His face brightened. “But I bet you didn’t know this bit! We got on so well that he gave me number and when I called him the next day to say how nice a time I’d had, guess who picked up the phone?”
“Who, Vince?”
“Nawh, come one. Guess!”
Howard sighed inwardly. When Vince was in a mood like this, all happy and bouncy bubbly, there was nothing to do but go with it.
“Ummm, Pete Neon?” he said, drawing on the first name that had popped into his head.
“No, he’s old now. As soon as everyone that he was actually just a midget on stilts from Brixton everyone got bored. Have another guess.”
“Ummm... I don’t know Vince, just tell me.”
“It was Chris Martin.” Vince grinned even more broadly.
“Haha, very funny Vince. Like a scarecrow would have Chris Martin’s number.”
“He did! I swear! And you know what I said to him? I said: Your music is SHITE. And hung up. Only, only, get this right? I forgot they have Caller ID, and he calls me back!”
Howard gaped open mouthed at Vince.
Vince guffawed at Howard’s face and gripped his sides as he laughed.
“I’m only joking! It wasn’t actually Chris Martin at all! It was Russell Brand and he told me to watch out for that scarecrow ‘cause he’s a bit of a practical joker, and I shouldn’t believe everything he tells me.”
“He the same scarecrow that makes you late for work every morning little man?” A small smile played over Howard’s lips.
“He only comes in the evenings, says the skis work better then. Mostly it’s just the miniature army of Joan Jett’s that tie me up most mornings with bits of gaffer tape they pull out of their ears that make me late. Usually they just want to put on a fashion show for me. Figure I’m their best client so I should see the new gear first.”
The look of utter seriousness of Vince’s face confounded Howard for a second. Later he would swear that he was attempting to understand how Vince could possibly even begin to think he would believe such an unlikely story.
Actually he was just getting a little lost in the wide blue eyes staring at him.
“Howard?” Vince clapped his hands in front of Howard’s face.
Howard started.
“As a man of reason and intellect, sir, I, Howard T.J. Moon cannot believe an army of Joan Jett’s tied you up with gaffer tape they pulled out of their ears.”
‘It’s true!” Vince’s voice rose in astonishment. “You wouldn’t believe the crazy things that happen to me!”
“That’s right Vince, I don’t believe them.”
Far from being annoyed Vince just grinned again and looked out the window. Howard sulked.
“Hey Howard!”
“...”
“Howard.”
“...”
“Howard. Howard. Howard. Howard. Howard. Howard.” Vince turned Howard’s name into a little sing song. “Howard. Howard. Howard. Howa-...”
“What?”
“Look it’s an elephant!”
“Vince- elephants don’t live in the land of the bin men. They live in Africa. Or Asia.”
“If you hadn’t been so busy sulking...”
“I wasn’t sulking.”
“You were.”
“Shut up.”
“You would have noticed we’re not in the land of the bin men anymore. We’re in Dalston.”
“Elephants don’t live in Dalston either. Not your normal self-respecting African elephant, no sir.”
“This one does! Let’s go and say hallo!”
The truck stopped and Vince jumped out, mirror ball suit glittering in the sun.
“Hey Mr Elephant! What brings you to Dalston?”
The elephant trumpeted a reply and Vince laughed, throwing his head back.
Howard had a sneaking suspicion they were talking about him.
“That is well genius!”
The elephant blew softly as though whispering.
“Yeah, alright!” Vince turned to Howard. “See ya, Howard!”
“Where are you going?”
“Gerald asked if I’d like to go to visit the Bus God with him. He’s an alligator with pink teeth and a limp. An’ he’s got a toy monkey that bashes your head into the ground and rifles your pockets for spare change if you don’t pay your fare. It sounds genius!”
“No sir. I don’t think so!”
“What?”
“You can’t do this to me! You can’t lead me on and ambush me in the middle of the night and confuse me with your soft touches and sweet words,” though on reflection the few words Vince had uttered had been rather more filthy than sweet. “And then go and leave me for an alligator with a pink monkey! That’s not the way Howard Moon rolls, sir.”
‘Aww, Howard, c’mere!” Vince reached out for a cuddle.
“Don’t touch me! Not ever again!”
Howard crossed his arms across his chest and turned away from Vince to stop him from seeing the tears stinging his eyes.
Vince took a step back, hurt by the venom in his friend’s voice.
“I thought you’d think it would be fun. I wasn’t really going to leave you behind, you berk, but if you feel that way.” He turned back to the elephant.
“It’s okay, Gerald. You can visit the Bus God without me.” He gave the elephant an affectionate pat behind the ear.
It trundled off, somewhat dejectedly.
Vince walked slowly around Howard until he was facing him again.
Howard’s small eyes darted around, looking everywhere but at Vince.
Slowly Vince leaned forward until their faces were barely a few centimetres apart. When Howard didn’t move he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Howard’s mouth, before turning around and going inside.
Howard stood outside the shop for five minutes more out of principle than any real hard feeling.
He almost ran through the shop.
“Vince? Vince!”
He took the stairs two at a time and stopped dead. He could hear the shower running. Vince had showered that morning, and although he usually did shower twice a day it was still suspiciously early for him to be showering again. And that could only mean one thing. He was upset.
Howard cursed himself under his breath and tried to resist giving himself Chinese burns. He thought of Vince’s sleepily mumbled words, probably so sleepy he hadn’t even realised he’d said them or heard Howard’s in reply and gave in. His fingers curled around his arm and twisted tightly.
In the bathroom Vince could hear Howard calling his name. Sod him, he thought, I can’t believe he thought I’d go and leave him behind! What does he think I am?
He angrily tugged his gogo boots off and tossed them into the corner of the bathroom. They were quickly followed by his mirror ball suit.
Turning the water on full blast he stepped under and revelled in the feeling of the pounding water washing over him. He didn’t actually need to wash, so he just stood. Eventually he heard the sound of Howard’s footsteps moving away from the bathroom door.
He turned the shower off and began to towel dry his hair. Wrapped in his peach coloured robe, his fingers lovingly caressed his blowdryer, and he set about making himself even more stunning than usual, just to get one over Howard.
Howard paced the shop and was surprised when it began to pour. Thunder cracked overhead and the door to the shop swung open menacingly. Howard got a disconcerting sense of déjà vu as a silhouette blocks out the now meagre light coming from outside. Some filtered in around him and made visible for a second green skin. Then as though the atmosphere of the shop was too much for it, the light faded away again.
“Hallo there boy.”
Howard stood up straighter. He felt ridiculous last time, cowering behind Vince, he was supposed to be a man of action. He was just so put out by the idea of a tail.
“We’ve got your map, sir.”
“Good...” the Hitcher drawled. “‘Cause if you hadn’t I woulda had to cut you boy.”
Howard dug around in his pocket for the map. He checked his other pocket. He checked his back pockets.
“Ahhahh, we appear to have left it in the truck.” Howard tried to grin. His face kind of contorted into a grimace instead, his eyes shrinking back into his skull.
“Oh yeah, boy?” The Hitcher pulled a flickety knife from his pocket, and sliced it through the air. “I’m gonna have to slash you up boy. Which is a shame because you’re such a pretty one.”
“I don’t think so, sir.” Howard tail curled out from behind him, quick as a flash and grabbed the flickety knife from the Hitcher.
“Owhhh,” the Hitcher patted down his pockets, as though he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
“Now if you wouldn’t mind leaving, sir, you’re putting the other customers off.” Howard chose to ignore the fact that there weren’t in fact any other customers.
The Hitcher still puzzling over what exactly had happened, shuffled out of the shop.
Howard put his hands on his hips and nodded to himself. He was distracted from congratulating himself by a small noise from the stairs.
“Vince?”
Vince sheepishly tiptoed down the stairs. Still wrapped in his robe he had heard, and partly seen the whole thing.
Advancing across the shop slowly Vince stopped in front of Howard. He looked up from under his fringe, and not for the first time noticed how kindly Howard’s admittedly small eyes were.
He smiled at Howard. “That was well James Bond, Howard!”
Vince was surprised by the look of relief in Howard’s eyes.
“That’s right, sir. Howard Moon, Man of Action. See you never believed I could do it did you?”
Vince’s reply to this was to slide his arms slowly around Howard’s middle. He could feel Howard tense up at the unaccustomed contact, before relaxing into the hug. Vince turned his face into Howard’s neck, smelling trumpet oil and old books.
And mumbled quietly into Howard’s neck, “It was pink teeth
it's twice as long as every other part cos i just wanted to finish it.
a/n: i used flickety knife instead of flick knife because noel uses it and it's amusing, and i used the german spelling of hello which is hallo because i'm cool like that.
Howard and Vince sat in the bin men’s truck.
Vince was smirking at Howard and Howard was awkwardly playing with his hands. “You’ll never guess what happened to me the other day.”
“Oh yeah? Get kidnapped by a scarecrow and taken on skis around Camden?”
Vince pouted. “‘Ow’d you know?” His face brightened. “But I bet you didn’t know this bit! We got on so well that he gave me number and when I called him the next day to say how nice a time I’d had, guess who picked up the phone?”
“Who, Vince?”
“Nawh, come one. Guess!”
Howard sighed inwardly. When Vince was in a mood like this, all happy and bouncy bubbly, there was nothing to do but go with it.
“Ummm, Pete Neon?” he said, drawing on the first name that had popped into his head.
“No, he’s old now. As soon as everyone that he was actually just a midget on stilts from Brixton everyone got bored. Have another guess.”
“Ummm... I don’t know Vince, just tell me.”
“It was Chris Martin.” Vince grinned even more broadly.
“Haha, very funny Vince. Like a scarecrow would have Chris Martin’s number.”
“He did! I swear! And you know what I said to him? I said: Your music is SHITE. And hung up. Only, only, get this right? I forgot they have Caller ID, and he calls me back!”
Howard gaped open mouthed at Vince.
Vince guffawed at Howard’s face and gripped his sides as he laughed.
“I’m only joking! It wasn’t actually Chris Martin at all! It was Russell Brand and he told me to watch out for that scarecrow ‘cause he’s a bit of a practical joker, and I shouldn’t believe everything he tells me.”
“He the same scarecrow that makes you late for work every morning little man?” A small smile played over Howard’s lips.
“He only comes in the evenings, says the skis work better then. Mostly it’s just the miniature army of Joan Jett’s that tie me up most mornings with bits of gaffer tape they pull out of their ears that make me late. Usually they just want to put on a fashion show for me. Figure I’m their best client so I should see the new gear first.”
The look of utter seriousness of Vince’s face confounded Howard for a second. Later he would swear that he was attempting to understand how Vince could possibly even begin to think he would believe such an unlikely story.
Actually he was just getting a little lost in the wide blue eyes staring at him.
“Howard?” Vince clapped his hands in front of Howard’s face.
Howard started.
“As a man of reason and intellect, sir, I, Howard T.J. Moon cannot believe an army of Joan Jett’s tied you up with gaffer tape they pulled out of their ears.”
‘It’s true!” Vince’s voice rose in astonishment. “You wouldn’t believe the crazy things that happen to me!”
“That’s right Vince, I don’t believe them.”
Far from being annoyed Vince just grinned again and looked out the window. Howard sulked.
“Hey Howard!”
“...”
“Howard.”
“...”
“Howard. Howard. Howard. Howard. Howard. Howard.” Vince turned Howard’s name into a little sing song. “Howard. Howard. Howard. Howa-...”
“What?”
“Look it’s an elephant!”
“Vince- elephants don’t live in the land of the bin men. They live in Africa. Or Asia.”
“If you hadn’t been so busy sulking...”
“I wasn’t sulking.”
“You were.”
“Shut up.”
“You would have noticed we’re not in the land of the bin men anymore. We’re in Dalston.”
“Elephants don’t live in Dalston either. Not your normal self-respecting African elephant, no sir.”
“This one does! Let’s go and say hallo!”
The truck stopped and Vince jumped out, mirror ball suit glittering in the sun.
“Hey Mr Elephant! What brings you to Dalston?”
The elephant trumpeted a reply and Vince laughed, throwing his head back.
Howard had a sneaking suspicion they were talking about him.
“That is well genius!”
The elephant blew softly as though whispering.
“Yeah, alright!” Vince turned to Howard. “See ya, Howard!”
“Where are you going?”
“Gerald asked if I’d like to go to visit the Bus God with him. He’s an alligator with pink teeth and a limp. An’ he’s got a toy monkey that bashes your head into the ground and rifles your pockets for spare change if you don’t pay your fare. It sounds genius!”
“No sir. I don’t think so!”
“What?”
“You can’t do this to me! You can’t lead me on and ambush me in the middle of the night and confuse me with your soft touches and sweet words,” though on reflection the few words Vince had uttered had been rather more filthy than sweet. “And then go and leave me for an alligator with a pink monkey! That’s not the way Howard Moon rolls, sir.”
‘Aww, Howard, c’mere!” Vince reached out for a cuddle.
“Don’t touch me! Not ever again!”
Howard crossed his arms across his chest and turned away from Vince to stop him from seeing the tears stinging his eyes.
Vince took a step back, hurt by the venom in his friend’s voice.
“I thought you’d think it would be fun. I wasn’t really going to leave you behind, you berk, but if you feel that way.” He turned back to the elephant.
“It’s okay, Gerald. You can visit the Bus God without me.” He gave the elephant an affectionate pat behind the ear.
It trundled off, somewhat dejectedly.
Vince walked slowly around Howard until he was facing him again.
Howard’s small eyes darted around, looking everywhere but at Vince.
Slowly Vince leaned forward until their faces were barely a few centimetres apart. When Howard didn’t move he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Howard’s mouth, before turning around and going inside.
Howard stood outside the shop for five minutes more out of principle than any real hard feeling.
He almost ran through the shop.
“Vince? Vince!”
He took the stairs two at a time and stopped dead. He could hear the shower running. Vince had showered that morning, and although he usually did shower twice a day it was still suspiciously early for him to be showering again. And that could only mean one thing. He was upset.
Howard cursed himself under his breath and tried to resist giving himself Chinese burns. He thought of Vince’s sleepily mumbled words, probably so sleepy he hadn’t even realised he’d said them or heard Howard’s in reply and gave in. His fingers curled around his arm and twisted tightly.
In the bathroom Vince could hear Howard calling his name. Sod him, he thought, I can’t believe he thought I’d go and leave him behind! What does he think I am?
He angrily tugged his gogo boots off and tossed them into the corner of the bathroom. They were quickly followed by his mirror ball suit.
Turning the water on full blast he stepped under and revelled in the feeling of the pounding water washing over him. He didn’t actually need to wash, so he just stood. Eventually he heard the sound of Howard’s footsteps moving away from the bathroom door.
He turned the shower off and began to towel dry his hair. Wrapped in his peach coloured robe, his fingers lovingly caressed his blowdryer, and he set about making himself even more stunning than usual, just to get one over Howard.
Howard paced the shop and was surprised when it began to pour. Thunder cracked overhead and the door to the shop swung open menacingly. Howard got a disconcerting sense of déjà vu as a silhouette blocks out the now meagre light coming from outside. Some filtered in around him and made visible for a second green skin. Then as though the atmosphere of the shop was too much for it, the light faded away again.
“Hallo there boy.”
Howard stood up straighter. He felt ridiculous last time, cowering behind Vince, he was supposed to be a man of action. He was just so put out by the idea of a tail.
“We’ve got your map, sir.”
“Good...” the Hitcher drawled. “‘Cause if you hadn’t I woulda had to cut you boy.”
Howard dug around in his pocket for the map. He checked his other pocket. He checked his back pockets.
“Ahhahh, we appear to have left it in the truck.” Howard tried to grin. His face kind of contorted into a grimace instead, his eyes shrinking back into his skull.
“Oh yeah, boy?” The Hitcher pulled a flickety knife from his pocket, and sliced it through the air. “I’m gonna have to slash you up boy. Which is a shame because you’re such a pretty one.”
“I don’t think so, sir.” Howard tail curled out from behind him, quick as a flash and grabbed the flickety knife from the Hitcher.
“Owhhh,” the Hitcher patted down his pockets, as though he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
“Now if you wouldn’t mind leaving, sir, you’re putting the other customers off.” Howard chose to ignore the fact that there weren’t in fact any other customers.
The Hitcher still puzzling over what exactly had happened, shuffled out of the shop.
Howard put his hands on his hips and nodded to himself. He was distracted from congratulating himself by a small noise from the stairs.
“Vince?”
Vince sheepishly tiptoed down the stairs. Still wrapped in his robe he had heard, and partly seen the whole thing.
Advancing across the shop slowly Vince stopped in front of Howard. He looked up from under his fringe, and not for the first time noticed how kindly Howard’s admittedly small eyes were.
He smiled at Howard. “That was well James Bond, Howard!”
Vince was surprised by the look of relief in Howard’s eyes.
“That’s right, sir. Howard Moon, Man of Action. See you never believed I could do it did you?”
Vince’s reply to this was to slide his arms slowly around Howard’s middle. He could feel Howard tense up at the unaccustomed contact, before relaxing into the hug. Vince turned his face into Howard’s neck, smelling trumpet oil and old books.
And mumbled quietly into Howard’s neck, “It was pink teeth