A/N: Yet another little story for you! Little, because it will only be in two parts. It's AU, because I enjoyed writing that so much last time. Expect fluff and romance, and hopefully you shouldn't be disappointed!

To everyone waiting for an update of The Others. I promise I will get it done soon, I've just hit a bit of a block!

Disclaimer: What? No, it's not.

xxxx

In the big city, people were pretty much faceless, buzzing around and rushing from one place to another, never stopping to look around them, no one ever really noticing each other. Today seemed to be slightly different. It was a chilly autumn day, but the sun was shining brightly and the clouds had parted to reveal a brilliant blue sky. Leaves, golden brown, red and rusty fell gently from the trees, twirling through the air and littering the ground. Howard Moon noticed it as soon as he left the park he'd been walking through and attempted to cross the busy road. There was something, a slight change, a tingle, something slightly magical. Then, just as he was about to step out, a cry sounded from behind him. Normally, Howard might have ignored it, but the cry sounded startled, desperate, and he spun round, facing back in the direction of the park. Over to the left, by a large oak tree, he saw the back of a young women, who had fallen to the ground, obviously just pushed over by the two men who were now legging it away through the trees, one of them carrying a bag. Howard ran back through the gates and hurried across the grass towards the woman, dropping down beside her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, worriedly, putting a hand out to support her as she tried to get to her feet.

"Yeah, I think so," she said, voice trembling slightly from shock as she wiped her hands on her trousers.

Howard's eyebrows nearly shot up into his hair as he realised his mistake. The woman wasn't a woman at all, but a man. He was suddenly glad he hadn't addressed him as 'miss'.

"Are you sure? That was quite a fall you took."

The young man stood up straight and pushed his hat back from where it fallen over his face. He smiled up at Howard, whose eyes were wide and staring, as if he'd seen something he wasn't expecting. The man put a hand up to his face, concerned. "What, have I got mud on my face? Have I cut myself?" he said, feeling around for a possible injury.

Howard opened his mouth, closed it, then somehow managed to force a few words through his lips. "N-no, you're fine. Just fine." Well, he could hardly tell him that the moment he'd seen his face, he'd had his breath taken away. He was stunning, big, blue eyes set against china doll skin, cheeks pink from the cold, glossy black hair framing his face. He looked so delicate, but at the same time, completely, devastatingly beautiful.

The man smiled again. "Oh, good. Well, thanks."

"No problem. Do you want me to go to the police station with you?"

"Oh, there's no point. I didn't really see them, I doubt they'll catch them."

Howard thought quickly. Something to get him to stay, just that little bit longer. "What did you have in your bag? Phone? Insurance company will need a crime reference number from the police before they'll replace it."

"It wasn't insured," the man said, with a small laugh. Then, he sighed. "Story of my life. I'll just get it blocked so they don't take the numbers, then buy a new one. Guess I'd better go to the bank as well and cancel my cards. They didn't get much out of it, really. A blocked phone and the fiver I had in my wallet. Loved that bag, though. It was vintage."

His face fell, and Howard smiled at him sympathetically. "How about I buy you a coffee or something? You look like you could use it. And we'll pop to the bank on the way."

The man looked at him, as if trying to figure out if Howard was a genuinely decent man, or if he was after something. True, Howard was captivated by him, but it was also true that he was a decent man. Then, he grinned.

"Yeah, that'd be nice, thanks. I'm Vince," he said, holding out his hand.

Howard took it, Vince's grasp dainty. "Howard."

Vince beamed. "Nice to meet you, Howard."

xxxx

"So, Howard, what do you do?" Vince said, taking a small sip of his hot chocolate.

Howard put his mug down. "I'm a session musician."

Vince looked impressed. "Wow. So you go and play music for films and stuff like that?"

"Sometimes," Howard said, smiling. "Sometimes it's for adverts, or for someone's album. Sometimes I play in clubs. It varies quite a lot."

"What sort of clubs?"

"Jazz, mostly."

Vince wrinkled his nose a little, making Howard chuckle.

"Not your sort of thing, I take it?"

"Nah, not really. Sorry."

Looking at him, Howard couldn't really think any different. Vince was rather flamboyant, in his tight black jeans, gold boots, black trilby and thigh length, leopard print coat. Howard felt distinctly under-dressed next to him, in his navy trousers, burgundy roll-neck, sensible boots and his duffle coat.

"So, what music do you like, then?"

Vince licked some whipped cream from his finger, having no idea that the tiny action had Howard mesmerised. "Mmm. Well, electro and rock, mostly. I love the Stones, but I also love Gary Numan and the Human League."

Now it was Howard's turn to pull a face. "Never been keen on electro, but rock's okay."

Vince laughed. "That's something, I suppose."

Howard smiled. "What do you do, then?"

"I'm an artist. Actually, I've got an exhibition opening tomorrow night. Just a small thing, but it's a start. Do you know Café de Minuit on Rose Lane?"

"God, yeah, their pastries are to die for."

"Oh, I know," Vince said appreciatively, leaning back in his chair. "It's at eight, upstairs, if you, you know, wanna come along. Don't feel like you have too, or anything," he finished quickly, picking up his mug and hiding behind it.

Howard thought it was sweet how coy he'd suddenly become. Vince certainly didn't look like someone who lacked confidence. It was rather endearing. "I'd love to."

Vince smiled widely, his whole face lighting up. "Great."

They continued to chat amiably, Howard talking more about his job as Vince fired hundreds of questions at him, genuinely interested in what he did and how he'd ended up in London. Howard felt more comfortable than he had in ages. It usually took him a while to get used to new people, but Vince had a way about him that drew him in and left him feeling warm and glowing and content. He'd almost forgotten what that was like, and before he knew it, two hours had passed and it was beginning to get dark.

"Well," Vince said, as they stepped out of the coffee shop and onto the pavement, wrapping his coat around him as a cold breeze blew down the street.

"Well," Howard said, smiling.

"Thank you, again, for being my knight in shining armour."

Howard snorted, not unkindly. "Hardly. All I did was help you up."

"...and make sure I was okay, and buy me drinks and listen to me talk endlessly. Seriously, thank you."

"You're welcome." Howard looked down at his shoes awkwardly, then back up into Vince's smiling face, his eyes sparkling under the street light.

"Hey, listen, um..." Vince pulled out a receipt from his pocket. "Got a pen?"

Howard patted down his pockets. "No, sorry."

"Phone?"

Howard handed over his mobile, and Vince tapped a number into it.

"Save that. It's my home number, in case you can't make it tomorrow and you'd like to meet up some other time."

"Done," Howard said, saving the number and putting the phone back in his pocket. "But, I'll be there. Which way are you going?"

Vince gestured with his thumb behind him. "Just live round the corner, luckily. Fingers crossed my flatmate will be home. I don't fancy shimmying up the drainpipe."

Howard laughed and buttoned up his coat, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Vince bit his bottom lip and smiled. "Looking forward to it," he said, beginning to walk backwards. Then he gave Howard a little wave, turned round, and disappeared into the throng of people still bustling along the city streets.

Howard stood for a moment, staring at the spot where he'd last seen him, then smiled to himself and walked in the opposite direction, a distinct bounce in his step as he headed towards home.

xxxx

Vince sat on his bed, looking out of the window. His let his eyes gaze over the rooftops for a moment before turning them to the sky, the pale silver moon sitting brightly amongst the parted clouds, lighting up the edges of them and making the whole scene look like a painting. Vince admired it for a while, studying the colours, how the silver seeped into the blue-black and gave it a tinge of purple. However, he couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering back to the man he'd met in the park, who'd gallantly come to his aid when no one else had even batted an eyelid in his direction.

He was nice, Howard. Had a certain charm to him. He'd seemed slightly awkward at first, but genuine, and he had lovely, twinkly brown eyes, that crinkled slightly in the corners when he smiled or laughed, and a voice with a soft northern lilt that was like velvet. He was handsome, strong looking, but completely oblivious to it, Vince could tell. It was sweet, and even though Howard wasn't typically his type, there was something about him that was already making his stomach flip, and he found he was looking forward to his exhibition opening more for seeing Howard again than actually getting his paintings seen.

Vince stood up and wandered over to his wardrobe, opening the doors and examining its contents. He'd need something pretty special for tomorrow night...

He sighed and closed the doors back up. What was he thinking? He hardly knew the guy. But he'd invited him to his opening and given him his number. He wouldn't have done that with just anyone.

Vince plonked himself on his bed and lay down, staring up at the ceiling. Howard had been so easy to talk to, and was genuinely interested in what he had to say. He'd never really had that before. His life was constantly about parties and clothes and immaculately styled hair. But he was more intelligent than he made out, and while people were fawning over his latest outfit, he often found himself longing for more stimulating conversation. Howard had given him that; he'd never assumed Vince was just an air-head whose conversational skills wouldn't stretch beyond fashion or the latest electro band. It was refreshing, and he longed for more of it.

Maybe Howard was just what he was looking for.