Hi, I know there's still a chapter to go on my other fic but this is what I've been working on recently and I was too excited to hold off from posting it. A Mint Royale Fic.

Disclaimer - I do not own the Mighty Boosh or the Mint Royale music video to the Blue Song

Definitions (accessory)

noun: a supplementary component that improves capability
noun: clothing that is worn or carried, but not part of your main clothing
noun: someone who helps another person commit a crime
adjective: relating to something that is added but is not essential

Howard stood rigidly, feeling the heat of the body pressed against the length of his front, his arm gripped tightly around the boy's neck. The boy's long black hair tickled his nose and the scent of it – shampoo and hairspray – distracted him for a moment. The last thing he needed at the moment was another distraction. The alarm blaring out its repetitive, persistent siren was one, Jim lying on the floor, great gouts of blood pouring from his stomach was another. The security guard had got him – he was a real old school type, looked about two weeks from retirement, but he had challenged them anyway. Howard had almost pitied him when he saw how his hand shook on the gun. He doubted that he had ever had to use it before. He hadn't wanted to shoot Jim; he had tried to talk them out of violence but Jim had shot him in the leg and he had fired a round off in retaliation. Howard saw the look of horror spread over his face, mirroring the blood that blossomed over Jim's shirt as he clasped his guts and crumpled to the floor. It hadn't stayed there for long – the security guard's face that is. Jackie had seen to that, almost blowing his head clean off with a sawn off shot gun at point blank range. Howard didn't want to look to his right, at the security guard's body. Instead he edged the boy forward, nudging him with a knee in the back of the leg,

"Move," he growled before calling back over his shoulder to Jackie who was currently crouching at the door of a vault, desperately trying to open it,

"Come on, we've got to get out of here. The police will be here any minute,"

"Just a sec. We've got to get the diamonds. There's probably only about two mil in that bag," Jackie nodded his head to the bag in Howard's free hand, the hand that wasn't pressing a gun to the boy's temple.

"I said come on! This has all gone to shit and we have to get out of here now. You can have Jim's share,"

"Fuck you - " there was an explosion and Jackie fell backwards with a cry. The safe's defences had obviously been triggered. Without looking back, Howard marched the boy out the door.

The police cars were just starting to turn up, their tyres squealing and sirens blazing as they pulled up outside the bank. As men in bulletproof vests started to pour out of the vehicles, their weapons trained on him, Howard retreated to the car that was waiting on the road. If the situation hadn't been quite so perilous he would've laughed at the sight of the small square of paper tucked under the wiper – a parking ticket. He threw open the passenger door and shoved the boy in the direction of the seat. He caught his boot on the lip of the door and stumbled slightly, his head momentarily breaking contact with the gun. Howard grabbed his arm roughly and thrust the barrel back into his temple. Praying that his voice wouldn't waver, he called out to the waiting policemen,

"You listen, if anyone follows me I'll shoot this guy. I'm just going to drive away from here and you're all going to let me," glancing down he noticed the red spot of a sniper rifle trained over his heart and swallowed deeply, "and if anyone tries any funny business, this bag is full of explosives, enough to take out about a 500 metre range. The trigger's in my hand as well so if I let go of it for any reason, like BEING SHOT in the fucking chest, we're all dead. So I suggest you don't,"

A man in a suit stepped forwards from the crowd of policemen and shouted back to him,

"Put down your weapon,"

Howard zoned him out and glanced down to the boy in the passenger seat who was just staring ahead blankly out the windscreen. Howard could see he had a problem. He couldn't walk round to the driver's side without taking the gun away from his head and he didn't fancy testing whether the police believed his claim about the explosives. He cursed Jim again for wanting to come inside instead of waiting in the car as they'd agreed.

"Climb over to the driver's side," he ordered. The boy looked up at him questioningly, before shifting his body awkwardly over the car and into the driver's seat without a word. Howard kept the gun as close to his head as he could as his eyes flicked between the boy and the cops. Holding the bag up in the air, he slid into the passenger seat and addressed the boy again,

"Now start the car, the keys are in the ignition,"

Again the boy looked at him with wide curious eyes but did as he was told. Howard was glad to see that the police weren't getting into their cars. Yet.

"Drive,"

"Where?" the boy asked. Howard was surprised to hear him speak, realising it was the first sound he had made ever since he had grabbed him and forced him to open the safe with the cash in. Howard didn't have an extensive knowledge of hostage taking but in his experience he would've at least expected a few sobs, a plea for his life. He didn't even sound that scared.

"Turn the car around then go straight ahead, and make it snappy,"

Obligingly, the boy turned over the engine and pulled away in a manouver that Howard couldn't fault. For a split second he imagined that this was some kind of fucked up driving test and he was the instructor. He fought the urge to giggle. He chanced a look behind them and let out a shaky breath of relief to see that no one was following them. Was it possible that he might get out of this?

After a few minutes, Howard directed the boy,

"Turn left here,"

They turned down a quiet side street and under a railway viaduct. Howard could hear the hum of the police helicopter in the distance. He didn't have long. He instructed him to pull up onto the kerb behind a white transit van. Howard jumped out of the car and ran to the van, snatching the key from under the wheel arch. He threw the bag of cash and the gun into the back and stuck the key into the ignition but as he pressed his foot down on the accelerator he was startled by a noise next to him. The boy from the car, the hostage, had opened the passenger side door and climbed in, the same blank, calm expression on his face. Howard's jaw dropped open. He was about to kick him right back out the door when he heard a police siren somewhere not too far away and decided it was best to just drive. After all, the boy might come in useful later.

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