"Don't you want to kiss me again, Howard?"

Howard's shoulders flung themselves up around his ears, and his eyes squeezed shut briefly. Needless to say, he did not respond. He didn't even entertain the notion of responding. Not even to that particular subdued note in Vince's voice.

"You look like Fossil turned the heat off again, catching you all cold and vulnerable in the staff showers. Remember that? And then he made you clean out the porpoise tank. Made you do it naked, that's what Joey said. Got you scrubbing at the sides with an extendable squeegee."

"Vince."

"Those kids never came back to the Zooniverse, Howard."

"Vince!"

"It was well inappropriate. Wish I'd seen it, but I was too busy feeding crisps to the marmots–"

"They were obese, those marmots."

"Showed me more affection than you."

"Don't want to talk about it now," Howard hissed through his teeth.

"But you didn't want to talk about it yesterday. You said later, and now's later, isn't it?"

Howard suppressed a heaving sigh and handed the cashier a fiver, deliberately avoiding his eyes. "Can you wait till we're out of the shop, Vince? You said you were thirsty."

"You said you loved me."

Howard cringed even further within himself, shirt all creasing up the front like an accordion.

"Here's your change," the cashier muttered, looking entirely nonplussed at the exchange taking place before him. "Have a nice day."

"Cheers," said Vince, twisting around Howard and grabbing the glass bottle of fizzy pink from the counter. His fringed sleeve brushed tauntingly across the erect hairs on Howard's arm, and Howard jerked back reflexively. With one smug eyebrow raised, Vince turned around and left the shop before Howard could even clear his throat awkwardly.

"Er, right," muttered Howard in the vague direction of the cashier, and hurriedly followed the retreating cowboy hat. Vince half-skipped down the busy street, pointy elbows narrowly missing old ladies and pushers and small children, and Howard's eyes grew larger as he waited for the collision that never quite came. All other pedestrian traffic seemed to flow smoothly around the electro ponce, never quite touching him. Jostling crowds at the Zooniverse had never been a worry for Vince. While he only half-noticed his surroundings – too busy trapped in technicolour tales of bubblegum heroes and mink martyrs – he was universally observed.

It was with some relief that Howard finally caught up to Vince, puffing a bit with the exertion of trying to appear like he wasn't puffing at all.

"Oi, where are you off to, you muppet?" he grumbled, arms propped outwards, hands pressing into his sides.

"I'm trying to spy out an empty bench, but they're all taken," said Vince, peering up and down the length of the street.

Howard, breathing heavily, decided to get along with it. "Leave it to me," he said grimly, striding over to the nearest bench, which bore an intriguing cross-section of society. Perching on the very edge of the bench, Howard nodded to a sceptical Vince and waited. Sure enough, next minute, the seat was deserted.

"Didn't think that hobo was going to vacate the premises," said Howard proudly, "but I've still got that old threat seated deep within me, yes sir."

"Let nobody say you're not talented, you jazzy freak," Vince said with a roll of his eyes, but he was grinning widely. He sprawled out along the bench, propping his boots on the metal arm at one end, and resting his head on Howard's thigh. Howard, feeling with intensity the lack of a 'don't touch me' on the tip of his tongue, smiled as Vince pulled his hat over his eyes.

It had been a strange week(end). It had been a house of cards of strange, with every little crazy card fluttering down around his ears and settling in his lap on a park bench on a Saturday afternoon.

The hand that Fate had dealt him in the past week was truly outrageously bizarre, and yet Howard didn't mind. He had the ace in his hand, as it were. He was no longer the joker. He was really quite awful at card games, and yet, he had finally won.

He had kissed his best friend – nothing more, but it was a hell of a nothing less. Howard T J Moon had finally managed to do what he should have done back in those classic days at the Zooniverse. Vince had snuffled off to sleep in his arms, for heaven's sake – in his bed, no less. And Howard hadn't slept at all. He had been too busy feeling.

He let himself feel love. He let love touch him, break through the defensive wall. He let himself be happy.

And he made himself remember the truth. That this wouldn't last. It couldn't. It couldn't last longer than a couple of happy days, because ultimately, Howard had no right to this Vince. He had no business taking a nostalgic love dive when the Real Vince would soon be returning.

And so he hadn't slept. He'd been too busy watching Vince's peaceful face, so innocent and carefree and endearingly drowned in drool. He'd been too busy pressing his lips against that skinny arm strung possessively about his neck. He'd been too busy drinking a cocktail of joy and despair, tasting only love and sadness.

And yes, he spent long hours wondering whether this brief sojourn into the past could possibly affect the Real Vince. To tell the truth, Howard would have almost preferred the hair spilling out across his pillow to be black. Although his insides were all tight and warm with happiness, his heart couldn't be complete without a complete Vince, could it?

"Howard?"

Howard smiled, wide and strong, at the sound reverberating through his legs, and felt his heart clench with almost-complete happiness. "Yes, little man?"

"Why did the Zooniverse close, anyway?"

Howard's smile dropped. "There were complications with the management, Vince. Nothing we could do. All that matters is that everyone escaped alive." He hesitated. "Well, everyone except for Bainbridge, but he was piloting the hot air balloon at the time, so it wasn't entirely surprising."

"Naboo said it was your fault."

Howard cringed. "Fossil had me shooting pigeons for the Christmas display – Turkeys of the Thames, and all that. The police let me off with a warning, alright?"

"Bet that was my doing."

"Shut up and drink your lemonade."

Pushing the hat back onto his head, Vince swivelled up into a cross-legged sitting position facing Howard. Without saying anything, he brought the bottle up near his mouth and curled his tongue around the straw. Howard, whose eyes were solidly captured in knowing blue, was powerless to look away as Vince's cheeks hollowed, sucking steadily at the lemonade.

Howard was rather red and flustered by the time Vince paused for breath.

"How'd you like that, Howard?" he asked, eyes coyly averted. Suddenly, he looked right back up and into Howard's stunned eyes, beaming. "That's how elephants drink! Genius, yeah?"

"Twat," Howard muttered, shaking his head. He cleared his throat a couple of times, then held his hand out for the drink.

Vince's grin fell away as he clutched the bottle to his chest possessively. "No way, Howard! The bottle's already half-empty!"

"It's half-full, you monkey," said Howard, snatching the bottle from Vince's fingers and taking a swig (narrowly avoiding death by straw in the esophagus). "Nothing's empty anymore, is it?" He took a moment to choke on the excess of bubbles, and then, after calming, felt the sugar begin to gnaw at his teeth. "Except maybe the holes in my molars."

Vince grabbed at Howard's hand before it could make its way into his mouth to check for premature cavities.

"You know I love you back, yeah, Howard? Only I don't think I told you last night."

"I know." And he did. And he felt almost complete. Almost.

"And I didn't laugh this time, see?"

"Yeah, I know."

Vince looked right into Howard's eyes and seemed to see the hollow that remained within, despite all the words and lemonade and love spectacles. "And I will love you come Monday, alright? And Tuesday, and Wednesday, and maybe even Thursday, if you kiss me right about now."

And so Howard kissed Vince right there on the park bench, hands tangling desperately in that feathered brown hair with the blonde highlights.

And then it started to rain, and Vince decided that he needed to put his cowboy hat right back on. Howard removed his hands from the soft hair with much regret, and looked at the sky with a fair degree of malice.

"Don't worry; Bollo gave me an umbrella before we headed out this morning," said Vince, digging in his jacket pocket. He promptly removed an extremely small travel-sized umbrella, which he propped up immediately. Howard, whose eyes had still been fixed malevolently on the sky, squealed and batted at his corneas.

"He remembered!" laughed Vince, who didn't seem to realise that Howard was experiencing extreme ocular pain. "Full of glitter! Genius. We had some good times, me and Bollo."

Howard didn't answer (though he might have had something to say on the subject of Bollo's thoughtfulness). He was too busy removing specks of plastic from his eyeballs. He gave it up when a small arm crept about his back and pulled in tight.

"You'll get wet, silly; come under here with me."

"Has it stopped raining glitter?"

Vince only laughed, and kissed him.

A/N: Penultimate chapter! (apart from a potential epilogue). Please review and distract me from a very hideous politics essay.

xx Froody