A/N: I will *try* and continue this but I know I'm terrible at starting fics and never finishing them. I also know all I've written so far is angst. So this is a fun, sweet, fluffy seasonal fic for the Xmas season. Dedi to Verity for her gorgeous fic she just started which gave me the boost of inspiration to do this. Reviews are advent calander chocolate Love!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mighty Boosh or any of the characters used. They belong to the gorgeous, fuzzy man-peach known as Julian Barratt and the beautiful, charming, hilareous imp that is Noel Fielding. I also don't own Christmas either; God, Jesus, Mary, Santa, Coca Cola and whoever else do. (Just in case).

Vince,

Been called away on urgent Occult business. Tony Harrison is hosting the annual Shaman Board Christmas party at his bungalow in Kent this year. Staying for the weekend and taking Bollo with me (mainly for protection, as Mrs. Harrison always gets a bit violently lary on the sherries). Mentioned it to Howard in passing but you were asleep when we left at 11 a.m.

I'm leaving you in charge of course, ignore what Howard says. Feel free to close the shop early today and don't bother opening tomorrow, but you better be open Boxing Day, which we should be back by that night. Make sure no punks or green man-witches mess up the place again. And DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING from my cabinet. I mean that. Also, if I come back and find out you and Howard have got yourself into another ridiculous mess, then you'll both be fired.

Lastly - and this is mainly why I've written this just for your eyes - if you're gonna go anywhere with Chandra then BE EXTRA CAREFUL and remember to take good care of her. Don't take her to far either.

Have a good Xmas (Well, try. sorry it's just you and him. Shaman's only, you know),

See you Boxing Day,

N.

From Bollo - Precious Vince keep warm and eat good Xmas meal. Don't let Idiot bore you.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

This is genius!

Good old Naboo. He's such a diamond. Always comes through for you, even when he don't realise it. 'Course he don't realise a lot of things, a lot of the time, the amount of 'stuff' he takes. Me and Howard have took turns on his 'stash' a couple of times. Just a whiff from his pipe. I was able to take it like a normal man. Felt a bit dizzy, had to sit down, talked to a purple seahorse who was on his way to a Bon Jovi concert, all that rubbish. Howard on the other hand…Well, let's just say YouTube obviously enjoyed the outcome, I'm assuming from 1,045,400 hits. I'm a bit of a technophobe but Leroy said that's impressive. Maybe Howard's related to that light-weight head-shaman. Y'know, the one who wanted to chop my head off last year? Yeah, him. Nice fellah. He does look similar to Howard.

I'm doing it again, aren't I? Sorry. I always get easily distracted. Don't see why people think that's such a strange habit though. There are so many wonderful things in life; how your poor little brain cell can just stay focused on ONE, is way beyond me. You'd have to have loads of the funky little people in your mind tank.

What I was meant to be talking about was…oh yeah - Naboo! He's gone away for the weekend. This weekend also happening to be Christmas weekend. Shit, I just LOVE Christmas! I love the songs, the decorations, the snow, the costumes, the shopping. I mean if you know me then you'd know how much I love shopping any other day - but Christmas shopping! It's sommat else, it really is. I've gotta get something extra special for Naboo seeing as he's done me this little treat this year. He likes Fleetwood Mac, don't he? I'll see if I can ring them up, via one of my 'contacts' and see if they wouldn't mind paying Naboo a visit at Tony Harrison's place. Never met them but I'm always able to persuade people, just by the use of my voice. I know - it's amazing, ain't it? Maybe I was a witch in another life.

Feeling the chill, I wrap my thick leopard skin coat around myself, stuffing my hands in the plush pockets. Not real leopard skin at all. I do have my morals. I was a zookeeper once after all, I'll have you know. I look around now and I notice how Camden ain't that much different from a zoo. Strangely, it's more chaotic (a word Howard taught me). Just as wild as my old home in the forest was too. Everyone's rushing around to buy their last minute shopping. Cheesy old Christmas hits are booming out onto the street. A fake Santa Clause is holding a bucket for a charity collection at the corner of the street. Yes, I know he's a fake Santa! I'm not as dumb as people like Howard and Naboo think I am. Christy. I know perfectly well Santa is busy working his big red arse off in Greenland preparing for his big job tonight. Cor, imagine only having to work one night a year, as well as getting handed mince pies and beer to you on the way? Unbelievable.

Still, as I pass his imposter, I toss in about five euros. He gives me a jolly smile beneath his fake beard. His old eyes twinkle thankfully at me.

"Bless ya, ma'am. Merry Christmas!" He booms. He does a good Santa voice, I'll give him that.

"Merry Christmas, mate." I grin back. I then continue my stroll, shopping bags swinging to the rhythm of the season from my arm.

Could I add the real Santa to 'The List'? Nah, he wouldn't be home, would he? Duh, Vince. Anyway, it's meant to be me on his list. Hopefully I'm on the right one this time. I've tried to be a lot less of a tit this year then I was last. Not just because the only presents I got last year were a single glitzy glove from Howard, a banana from Bollo and a note reading 'Not Good Enough. From S.C' under the tree. (Ouch!) Mainly, to the point, 'cause it hit me how much of a self-absorbed prat I'd been that year. Especially to Howard. That whole incident with the Black Tubes and Sammy the Crab was just what I needed to bring me back down to Earth. Since then I've tried extra hard to make it up to him. I mean, he's my best friend, ain't he? He's always been there beside me. Ever since I left the forest. Yeah, he's still as much a vein, boring, deluded, Jazz-obsessed, walking corduroy nightmare as ever. But that's just Howard for you. And that's the way I love him.

What? Don't give me that look! Yeah - I said I love him. That really such a shock to you, is it? We've been best friends for ten years, 'course I love him. Come on, why else would I hang around him for? The pencil case stories? Well, ok, they are slightly more intriguing then I let it show. Joke! I just love having him to talk to me. Properly. Not nagging me to do stock-taking or sort out the shelves or throw out the bin-bags. Not taking the micky out of the music I put on the stereo. Not having a go 'cause I might be a bit slow or dim a times. Just talking to me like he cares what I think, like what I have to say matters, which means he respects me. That's where the real change has happened this year though. All that bickering is still there, when we're at work, and it's probably worse than it was before. All my mates who come in to see me witness me and Howard going at each other, then ask me why I even hang around him if he gets on my wick so much. There lies the secret! Because once sweet 5:30 p.m comes round and the shop is closed, we go upstairs - and we may as well step into two different people. We don't take that bitterness from the long, hard day with us. Not like we sometimes used to. I've helped make sure of that. Now we go upstairs, one of us collapses on the sofa whilst the other makes a cup of nice warm tea, then we both put our feet up, one of us says something light-hearted about the day, we laugh - and all is good, my friend. It's more than good. It's…sorry, I ain't got one of those thesaurus things on me at the moment. Ask me later.

That's why I'm so happy about this Christmas. It's just gonna be me and Howard. Like it used to be back in the zoo, when we'd have the most pathetic decorations in our little shack and the flimsiest Christmas tree that was more like a rotting bush - but it didn't matter. We'd open our presents without even leaving our sleeping bags. Then we'd go to Naboo's kiosk for Christmas dinner, have a walk around the zoo, before going back to the hut and curling up on the sofa together, a beer in each of our hands, in front of some good old cheesy Christmas telly. Most of the time we'd get so drowsy and tipsy, we'd just end up giggling like plebs until we fell asleep on each other. To think, it's gonna be like those old times again. Not that I don't love Naboo and Bollo to bits. But it's a bit hard to enjoy the rush and fun of Christmas when you've got the fumes of a hookah stuffing up the flat. Not to mention Bollo's not a big fan of Christmas. I think the story behind this was something along the lines of: "Chinco keep asking for golden ball-bearings for Xmas tree. But my Father say we only able to afford silver ball-bearings 'cause of Credit Crunch. But Chinco say 'Please Bollo. Please can we get golden ball-bearings'. Over and over and over. So, finally, one day, I chopped his-" Yeah, I don't really need to finish that, do I. That's probably the one thing he and Howard have in common though; lack of Christmas spirit.

I'm now coming over towards Camden Lock. The water's frozen solid and kids and couples are out ice-skating on it. I stand on the bridge and just take a moment to watch them all. There's a man in thick black parka on there just below me. He's twirling around his two little kids, a son and a daughter, their smiles almost stretching off the sides of their bright little faces. Their laughter rises up to me and traps me in a whirlwind of innocent wonder. They seem the happiest ones on there from my view. I'm being a proper spectator here. Others on the water seem more nervous, worried or seem to have been dragged on their against their will. Then I notice some other people shining from the crowd. A young couple - mid-twenties? - a girl with long red hair under a pretty last-week but comfy blue, woolen, snow hat, gripping the hands of her tall dark-haired boyfriend, pulling her towards him whilst their skates slide elegantly along the ice.

Now I don't normally envy people. I'm usually on the receive end of that emotion. What I would give though to go down onto that ice… I could always rent some skates - I've bought some stickers and badges so I could customise them well before using them for the two hours. It's not the point though. They're not smiling just because they're skating, though it does look pretty genius on it's own. It's something else. Something I'm missing that can't just be grabbed from the near-by shops.

I suppose I could always add that to the list. Right? Nah, he'd never wanna go. He'd think it was gay. Bit ironic, considering it should be fitting for a former 'Massive Gayest!'.

Pushing my hand down inside the pocket of my skinnies, I drag out the slightly crumbled piece of paper I ripped from the shop notepad this morning. I then pulled out a biro I'd nicked from Howard's 'Stationary Village' set and, leaning the paper on the bridge rail, I added another bullet point to the four already written.

Oh well, there'd be no harm in just asking him, would there? Hopefully he'll be a bit tipsy by then, or at least I'll be, and he'll be able to indulge me. Just flash the old dazzling Noir eyes. That's not right is it? My eyes are blue. Doesn't Noir mean 'black'? Ok, now I see why Bryan always told me to pay attention in French class. It's not entirely my fault though - Howard, for all his anal ways, wasn't exactly always the attentive kid in school. No more so than I was. I lost count the amount of times we ended up in detention 'cause we were discovered at the back of the class coming up with our very first crimps or new adventures we could make up once school finished.

I've always loved our adventures. We never mean for them to turn out as wildly as they do, weirdly enough. And sometimes, yeah, they can be a bit 'Aaaaargh!' you know. Especially the ones where we almost die. It always turns out ok in the end though. Usually thanks to Naboo. Or, failing that, my own never-ending strokes of luck - helped by whatever hair products I have on me.

Tonight was gonna be a different story though. There wasn't gonna be any pointless mission for lost treasures that didn't belong to us. There wasn't gonna be any travelling into lands with retarded kings or leaders that would want to either kill us or rape us (yeah, it's usually me for the latter. Though there was the time with Howard and that merman…). Nah. Tonight was gonna be special. I've been preparing for it for months. Naboo's been helping me. He doesn't know how much or why. And Howard has no idea why I've been passing nights off with him to spend time with Naboo. Gee, I hope he doesn't think I've been avoiding him because I just didn't wanna spend time with him. That would defeat the whole point of all this effort really.

He won't think that after tonight though, if he does. He'll be, if all goes to plan, happy. Not that he hasn't been happier lately with me and him being better than we were. It's just he doesn't smile the way he used to. He doesn't have the same eagerness, excitement or zest to be a great Man of Action or superstar that used to get me so ambitious when we were younger. He just looks so bored. Tired. Except when we're together though and we're joking about the days events or tossing satsuma's at each other - then he smiles like the Howard I remember, if only for a minute or two. I'm hoping that tonight's events will leave him smiling for weeks on end.

Honestly, I know this is the ultimate seasonal jinx, but - it's gonna be the best Christmas ever!

And just as I'm stuffing the list back in my pocket, a snow-ball whacks me hard in the jaw.

"Got 'im, Dad!" A squeaky voice from below me chirps.

I wipe the icy slush off my face, peering through my slightly smudged kohl-rimmed eyelids to see the one of the two kids - the little boy - down on the ice, now grinning victoriously up at me. I'm not mad though. I'm not even annoyed. I'm just filled with that same burst of hot envy like I was before. Even more so when the kid's old man skates towards him and scoops him up into his arms, quietly rebuking the boy. The dad turns his head to look up at me.

"Sorry about that!" He calls up.

I just smile and shake my head; "It's nothing, don't worry. 'E was just havin' fun."

"Say sorry, Jake." The man tells the now blushing boy he's holding. Jake looks up to me.

"Sorry, Mister." He squeaks. Cor, now I feel guilty, how does that work?

"S'alright Jake. Don't worry, I won't tell Santa!" I can't help but laugh at the coy look on his little face. He's got the same eyes on him that I use when someone - usually Howard - yells a me for doing something stupid, yet all I have to do is flash those eyes and Howard's face sinks with regret at having been harsh on me. Then, to make it up to me, he sometimes gives me a present or lets me open Gary's cupboard for a bit. Pure magic!

I wish the kid and his dad a 'Merry Christmas' before turning to leave. I'd promised Howard I'd only be gone a couple of hours. I still needed some more bits to get, as much as a part of me would've loved to have just stayed at that spot on the bridge and watch the folks skating some more. Then I remember something I heard in a film once. "Life's not a spectator's sport; if you're gonna spend your whole life watching - then you're gonna watch your whole life fly right past you." Just as that thought goes through my mind, a flash of red hair and laughter whizzes past me, almost spinning me around in it's wake. The couple that I'd watched on the ice earlier are now running before me, chasing each other with the energy and buzz of a couple of school kids, on their own personal plane absent from the cars and shoppers around them. The boyfriend - whose being chased - pauses behind a lamppost and catches his girl just as she speeds up to him. He swings her around in the same whimsical movement he did on the frozen water before bringing her in for a snog. Some passing kids wolf-whistle, while a group of old ladies by the bus-stop scoff, though I think they're the same ones who blindingly joined in the Nanageddon revolt. The couple takes no notice, wrapped tight and snug in their embrace, their eyes closed contently. They really are in their own private world.

I just watch them with a twitching grin. Then I remember the time on my watch and force my stiff feet to continue walking down the street. Dunno why my grin is twitching or why my feet are stiff. It is really cold. I'm wrapped up in furriest, most-fashionable winter gear I could find, though if I'd listened to Howard's whining I'd be looking like one of those parka-people from the Arctic. At least it's not just because I know he hates winter and, even more weirdly, hates Christmas (Always has. Don't ask me why. I've never figured it out). He worries about me. I like that.

No worries tonight though. I'm ready. Naboo thinks I'm ready so that's good enough. Just you wait, Howard. I'm gonna restore your Christmas spirit, by taking you for the ride of your life.

Oh My God!

Sale on at Topshop. Gotta go.

A/N2: Just a quick start to get you all juiced up. More of a prologue really, a weak one at that. Soz if I've made mistakes. Just...lower your expectations. There you go! Oh look, nice review button. Why don't you press it? You might get a sweet :) xx