We'll Be Better Off Apart

Author's Note: Hey all. So this is my second fic, and I warn you it's angsty from the very beginning. Not sure how long it'll end up being, it depends on any feedback (hint, hint!)

Warning: Strong language and mild violence

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A very small man in long flowing robes and a turban and a gorilla who was significantly larger, opened the front door of a shop somewhere in London. If this unlikely pair looked unusual, it was nothing to the contents of the shop. Peculiar knick-knacks adorned the shelves, there was a clock in the shape of a monkey head, on one side was a rack of brightly coloured, sparkly clothes, on the other was a stand of old Jazz LPs and what looked like a village made entirely out of stationary.

As the duo entered, the gorilla shuffled across to the miniature village and deliberately plucked a paperclip out of it, and hid it behind some dusty bottles on the nearest shelf. The small man tutted.

"Don't do that Bollo, you ballbag, Howard'll go mental. He'll think Vince did it – and you know they're fighting more than usual anyway."

The gorilla shrugged. "Howard already going mental. Don't need help from Bollo." The turbaned man nodded in agreement, and, as one, both of them raised their eyes to the ceiling. A series of crashes and bangs were thundering from upstairs, accompanied by loud yells. Someone was clearly having a massive fight, and by the look that the man and gorilla exchanged, it wasn't the first time.

Tentatively they climbed the stairs, the man going first. Upstairs was a living room, with a brightly coloured sofa in the middle, facing an old-fashioned television set. To the right was a small kitchen area and two doors that led to the man and gorilla's bedrooms. Straight ahead was another door, slightly ajar, that was clearly the bathroom. To the left were two doors, the nearest one of which was open a little.

The man and gorilla both sat down on the sofa, arms folded, waiting it out.

"You've gone wrong, Howard! For the last time I 'aven't taken it!" This voice belonged to a man, but from the high-pitched tone you'd be forgiven for thinking it was a girl. The accent was distinctly cockney. A much lower voice with a Northern twang bellowed in response.

"Oh don't make me laugh, Vince! I know you took it, you know how much it annoys me. You'll just do anything to make me angry won't you? Give it back!"

"I haven't taken it, you jazzy freak! Why would I want a stupid paperclip?"

"I don't know, don't ask me to figure out the crazed workings of your simpleton mind. I've been in there once, I have no wish to go again, sir! Now give me the paperclip! They've been going missing on a regular basis, who else would take them?"

The gorilla shifted on the sofa, looking distinctly uncomfortable. The turbaned man turned and glared at him with a look that clearly said, 'I told you so.'

"I dunno, how about, the paperclip stealers?"

The other voice, belonging to the man Howard, sounded weary now.

"For the last time Vince, there's no such thing as paperclip stealers."

"'Course there are. Ain't you never seen 'The Borrowers'? They nab all kinds of stuff. They probably been taking your bits of paper with chat up lines written on 'em. That's why you ain't been able to get a girl." Vince's voice was taunting, and from the bellow of rage that emerged from the bedroom, he'd gone too far. There was a crashing and thumping noise, as if someone had just been slammed against a wall. The man and Bollo leapt to their feet, looking anxiously towards the door. There was a choked gurgle.

"H-Howard, get off. Please Howard, I c-can't breathe..." With one look at the gorilla, the turbaned man rushed into the room. The first thing someone would notice at another time would be the colour. In this room, everything was colourful. The walls were painted a sparkly purple and pink, the duvet was a satiny, silky bright blue. On one side of the room was a huge wardrobe that took up the entire wall, with clothes bursting out of it, all colours of the rainbow. Hats, belts, badges, scarves and shoes littered the floor and hung draped from a hat stand in the corner. There was a dresser with an enormous mirror propped up on it, and an array of beauty products in bottles. A pair of straighteners lay next to it on the floor. It was clearly a room for someone obsessed by their own appearance. But the man and gorilla didn't pay attention to any of it. Instead, their eyes were drawn to the tableau by the wall next to the bed. A tall, brown-haired man, in bottle-green cordoroys and a beige sweater was standing with his back to them. One large hand was stretched out, and clasped around the throat of a smaller man, who was being crushed against the wall. This man was clearly the owner of the room. He had fluffy, long dark hair with an edgy, choppy fringe that fell halfway over his eyes, which were large and blue – and at the moment – dilated with fear. He appeared to be wearing make-up, some eyeshadow and eyeliner that made his eyes seem bigger than they already were. His clothes were obviously the height of fashion, red skinny jeans with black cowboy boots, and a tight black t-shirt with a silver lightning flash picked out across the front in sequins.

He was choking and gasping, the other man seemed to be frozen in place, and wasn't letting him go. The small man clicked his fingers at Bollo, and the gorilla leapt forward, prising the bigger man's hand away from the other's throat.

The younger man, whose name was Vince, took a heaving breath and started massaging his throat. The other, Howard, stared at him for a moment, some unfathomable emotion flickering in his dark brown eyes, then he turned and strode from the room without another word.

Bollo the gorilla took Vince by a slender arm, and led him through to the living room where he sat him on the sofa, and started making him a cup of tea. After a while the man with the turban, who was a Shaman by the name of Naboo, wandered in and sat next to Vince on the sofa. Neither of them said a word.

"What was it this time?" Naboo eventually broke the silence. Vince continued rubbing his throat, where angry red marks were starting to bloom.

"'Is stupid stationary village. 'E's convinced that I took a paperclip just to annoy 'im. 'E's so anal Naboo, it's unreal."

"I'll have a word," Naboo said, his face blank of emotion. He wasn't surprised by the afternoon's events. Things had gone from bad to worse in the relationship between his two lodgers who also worked downstairs at his shop, the Nabootique. About a month ago Howard had come back from an ill-advised trip to Denmark, where he was supposed to have got his big acting break. Instead he'd come back, humiliated and angry, to find that Naboo had already replaced him, hiring a guy called Adam. Adam had been fired, and Howard reinstated, but since then Howard had become different to the man he'd been before. He'd withdrawn into himself even more than usual, become aloof and distant, barely talking even to Vince, his best friend. Vince had noticed this change, and from Naboo's point of view, had tried to draw Howard out, but with no success. So recently Vince had taken to provoking Howard's temper, just to get a reaction out of him other than blank indifference. Unfortunately, as had just been proved by the incident in Vince's bedroom, this strategy was having no visible success.

Naboo turned his head, and glanced at Vince. He was lying back against the sofa cushions, his eyes closed, his breathing still slightly laboured. Naboo sighed, heaved himself off the sofa and padded off down the hallway towards Howard's room.

The door was closed, but Naboo could hear strains of Jazz leaking through into the hall. He knocked on the door.

"Come in." Howard's voice was soft, Naboo could barely hear it. He pushed the door open slowly. Howard was sitting on his bed, head in his hands.

"Howard?"

The man looked up, tears welling in his small eyes. "Hey Naboo."

Naboo went and sat down on the bed next to him. "Howard, it's not Vince who's been taking your paperclips. Bollo takes them, he thinks it's funny." Howard stared at him, and then his head fell back into his hands.

"Oh God."

Naboo reached over and awkwardly patted Howard's shoulder for a few seconds. "Vince is just trying to get through to you, Howard. He's worried about you."

"It's not just that, though, is it Naboo?" Howard's voice was low and bitter. "The paperclip thing was just the last straw. We've been rowing more and more and I just, I just almost strangled him. I hurt him. That's not supposed to happen with us. We're different people to how we were in the Zoo. We've both changed, and I'm not sure for the better. If things don't improve then... then..." He stopped. Naboo was worried, this was very unlike Howard.

"Then what?" he prompted.

Howard shook his head. "I don't know. Even though it kills me to say it I'm just starting to think that maybe... maybe we'll be better off apart."

Please let me know what you think. I just wanted to explore the idea of how they'd cope going it alone, and knowing me there'll be Howince later on. Reviews are love.