Little China Doll

A/N: A kind of strange, slightly depressing fic that I wrote at 4:00 AM.

Disclaimer: It's four in the morning, I dunno what's right and wrong anymore, all I know is that I don't own the Boosh.

Warnings: Little bit o' language.

I'm 'is little china doll, en' I?

'E treats me like one of his mint records.

I pretend that I'm drunker than I actually am.

Yeah, for attention.

It's just, if I don't pretend I'm well out of it 'e goes all mardy and starts sayin' things like "it's your own fault, Vince" an' stuff that makes my 'ead ache.

I pretend quite a bit now, cos it's easier to pretend I'm trippin' over me heels an' to make out I'm puking in the bathroom than it is to come in fine and stand around listenin' to 'im goin' on about 'ow 'e worries about me.

I know he worries about me.

I wish he didn't.

I'm just waitin' now.

Waitin' for him to say it again like 'e did all that time ago in the Tundra.

Thing is, I'm not gonna laugh this time cos it's not gonna surprise me.

... So what am I gonna do...?

What is it 'e wants me to do?

Why as he gone an' started all this?

I don't like coming home at two in the morning or whatever an' finding 'im fast asleep at the counter cos 'e's sat down there waitin' for me.

It is quite sweet though.

One time, 'e fell asleep on one of his magazines an' all the words were printed on 'is face.

Genius...

Anyway, that night I pretended I was well drunk.

I weren't goin' to at first but I tripped up outside an' smacked my head on the door, an' 'e came runnin' out an' picked me up in his arms without a word, like he was already expecting me to be off me tits.

I was gonna start yellin' at him that I was fine an' to put me down cos it was weird; 'e was carrying me up the stairs to the flat like I was the Corpse Bride or somethin', but e went:

"I wish you wouldn't do this. I wish you wouldn't leave me sitting around the flat all by myself, worrying myself silly about you."

It was better to pretend I was proper drunk than to go:

"Oh, hey Howard, actually, erm, I don't really like sittin' alone in the flat with you anymore cos I think you love me,"

It's true, I don't though. I used to love it, we'd sit on the sofa an' watch telly, but now it gets a bit weird.

I always end up on 'im, lyin' on his chest or somethin' an 'e starts touchin' my hair, which is definitely not allowed- not even people I'm goin' out with get to touch my Hair- but I let him, and we don't say a word.

It makes me feel all uncomfortable, an' I'm not sure why.

So 'e carried me up the stairs and put me down on my bed, an' I started rollin' about the place an' pretendin' I felt ill, an' then 'e went:

"Shh"

An' he started touching my hair again.

It's not that I don't like it, it's just...

Well, I just hope he don't love me in that way.

Please, anyone but me.

He needs a nice, sensible jazz lady.

Not a futuristic prostitute.

I don't think I'd be any good at it.

I wouldn't know how to comfort him when he's sad, or talk about jazz and stuff like he wants.

It's weird when he gets all touchy feely after he always freaks out if I even put my hand on his shoulder.

I started cryin' like the idiot I am, cos I thought, fuck, what if he kisses me?

I'm scared.

Not of him, but...

If he kisses me, it'll be a disaster.

I know he thinks about it, cos I can tell- I'm Vince Noir, I know when someone's wantin' to kiss me.

I just wanted 'im to get away from me.

I couldn't deal with that, an' what's worse...

Well I'm not sure if I'd stop him, and I know it'd ruin everything.

I'd ruin everything.

He didn't kiss me though.

He wiped my tears away, and that's when I felt like a little china doll.

I don't know why I asked him to sleep on my bed.

I think it's cos 'e makes me feel safe, maybe.

If he tells me, I'm gonna pretend again.

I'm gonna pretend that I don't care.

Can't have him falling in love with a china doll, can I?

Love him too much for that.