Sorry that this part is mostly waffle and yet longer than the adventure, fast-paced part before. Turns out my only real skill is at waffle. Just be thankful it's a bit less angsty here.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

The Arbiter put his skeletal hands to the barrier and peered through to the occupants on the other side. Particularly, it seemed, on Naboo; "…Xooberish!" he hissed with disdain.

"Aradian." Naboo regarded. "How's it going on your planet now, apart from the global drought and famine. Still bitter that we beat you at cricket last century?"

"Your filthy Wizard kind cheats as it always does. The Xooberish never have any respect for laws and basic rules of society. You're creatures of the dark arts, black magic, gambling and, apparently, hiding hostages and stealing."

"At least we ain't sore losers. Or killers. Those were my two tenants you just murdered in cold blood - they still owe me this months rent, you gonna pay that for them? And I ain't stolen anything. I just brought these essences back to their home." Naboo explained faultless, patting one of his tiny pockets.

"My arrows converted them, their energy is rightfully mine!" the Arbiter spat; "And as for those two worms you have hiding in there with you, their wasted lives are bound to me, sentenced by a fair trial."

"Pull the other one, oh great Arbiter, I've heard too well how 'fair' your trials are. The only way these two berks would've had a chance would be by bribing the entire jury."

"There weren't even any jury!" Howard spoke up; "And even if there was, Howard Moon does not stoop to pay twelve men and women to get him off, sir."

Vince couldn't resist a chuckle. He whispered his private thoughts to Bollo who joined in on the laugh.

Howard rolled his eyes. Nope, the joking at his expense would never stop, no matter how serious the circumstance.

"Laugh it up, you human scum." the Arbiter said, sounding almost amused, "But this pathetic shaman magic trick won't last forever. And just because it appears that you've sealed me out here doesn't mean that you're safe. You still have a piece of me in there with you. And as soon as you falter, this barrier will break. Then you'll all be mine. The only thing I have to do - is wait."

"Right. Well, hope you don't get too bored with that." Naboo then slammed the front door, sealing every lock for good purpose.

A small cloud of the tension was lifted from the flat. For now they could all at least fool themselves that they were safe and it was another late Friday night.

Howard took a deep sigh of relief; "Naboo…Thank you. But what did he mean that we have a piece of him in here with us?"

Behind him, Vince groaned uncomfortably; "Urgh…Howard-"

"Yes, Vince, I'm sure the new joke you've just come up with is very funny, I'll hear it in a minute." Howard said, lazily, over his shoulder.

"No…Howard, my foot…Argh!" the mod cried out, flopping down and sitting on his crumpled legs.

Howard span around; "Vince!" He was at his side in a heartbeat, even though Bollo's hands were already on him, holding him together like a crumbling statue. "Vince, what's a matter?"

"My ankle, Howard….it's been a pain since it got hit but…now it's…oh, fuck, it really hurts." He grimaced, clutching tighter to Bollo who fussed more and more over his dead flat-mate's double.

Howard looked down at Vince's silver boot, expecting to see the arrow still impaled through his heel from their earlier close encounter with the Arbiter. Now the arrow was gone. There was merely a small tear in the fabric of his boot. Thinking back, Howard couldn't remember seeing the arrow after they'd arrived at the Nabootique, even if he hadn't been paying attention to Vince's wound as he should've been doing. The arrow must have fallen out while he was giving Vince a piggy back.

Naboo stepped forward, glancing down at Vince's boot quickly before looking at his familiar; "Bollo, get him upstairs and put him on the sofa. Take his boots off and just put some frozen peas on his ankle for now, I'll see to it in a sec."

Bollo nodded obediently and slid his arms under Vince to lift him up, holding the skinny man as if he weighed no more than a large bundle of clothes ready for the wash. He turned and was about to make their way up the stairs when Vince looked back and reached back out to his friend.

"Howard…" he cried back, needily, flexing his fingers. His eyes glistened with a fresh sheen of worry.

Touched, merely by the simple fact that he was wanted, Howard stepped forward and clutched Vince's hand in his own, giving him a comforting smile.

"It's alright, little man. You heard Naboo, we'll be up in a sec, promise. Just let Bollo look after you until then, ok. Can you do that for me?" Howard soothed, gripping Vince's shaking hand tight.

Vince nodded, able to form a reassured smile and slowly slipping his fingers from Howard's hand and putting it around Bollo's neck as the ape proceeded to carry him up the stairs. Vince didn't stop looking back at Howard until they were at the stop the stairs, as if he were afraid that the Arbiter would storm through and kill his friend if he dared to look away.

His heart hammering against his chest, Howard turned to Naboo who was watching him curiously; "…So. You're gonna help us now, yeah?"

"'Spose I ain't got a choice now Bollo's attached himself to your mate. Can't have a sulking familiar on my hands, his aura will interfere with my spell work." Naboo explained dryly.

"You could always get that upgrade." Howard raised an eyebrow.

"Too much hassle. Forms and the like. Anyway, yeah, I'll help you both. I'd seen enough of the two other guys, it's about time I had some new tenants."

Howard smiled, thankfully, then shook his head; "It doesn't make sense, Naboo. In our…parallel universe or whatever, me and Vince lived and worked here and Lance and Harold were only the way they were 'cause they copied us. How could they have replaced us?"

"Not sure," Naboo shrugged, pulling out the bottle with the spirits wafting mindlessly around inside to study them, "I did once ask Lance why he was so determined to be this great Rock n' Roll whore or whatever it was. He said it all came to him in a dream when he was little and that it was his destiny. Same must have been true for Harold." he put the bottle back in his robes and looked up at Howard just as curiously; "Which must mean that some of yours and your friends essences still had a presence in this world. Like a footprint from another universe. But you must have had pretty powerful and lively spirits to make an imprint like that across time - which doesn't make any sense if the Arbiter thinks you're unworthy of being alive."

"So…" Howard pondered, considering Naboo's words; "You think he might be wrong? Me and Vince do deserve a second chance if we're that significant?"

"Maybe. Or it could just be one big cosmic fuck up."

* * *

After Howard had explained most of the night's events to Naboo in as brief detail as possible, from his trial to their escape - to Leroy's death and Vince being shot, Naboo had made him go and fetch some supplies from his room whilst Naboo studied one of his many . As eager as Howard was to be of use, it begrudged him a bit to be made to carry shaman tools when he'd much prefer to be at Vince's side, making sure he was ok. Especially after he'd seen in his friend's face just how much he'd wanted him beside him.

But Vince had Bollo with him. And, anyway, Vince was a grown man. He shouldn't worry so much, Howard told himself. He shouldn't feel so desperate to indulge Vince's need to cling to him, even if it was an innocent quality of the younger man that he'd shamefully missed in recent months.

When Naboo had finished reading up on all he needed, he began walking into the living room, beckoning Howard to follow.

On the sofa, Bollo had carefully settled Vince down and removed his boots as ordered, as well as fluffed up the pillows beneath Vince's head and made him a banana smoothie. He was now pressing a fist full of frozen peas against the electro boy's ankle.

Naboo sighed; "Bollo - I meant peas still in the packet."

The ape grunted guiltily and shuffled back, the cluster of two dozen peas still in his hairy hand as Naboo stepped forward and knelt down to examine Vince's bare foot.

Placing the shaman supplies on the coffee table, Howard knelt down beside Vince's head, watching as he sucked calmly on the straw of his drink. Howard could nearly believe that it was just another lazy Saturday for his little friend.

He gently brushed back his fringe from his forehead; "Hey. How's my wounded soldier doing?"

Vince smiled around his straw, detaching it from his lips; "'M more like a crippled ballerina. It ain't so bad now though, can't really feel it. Think it was just the shock of everythin', y'know."

"Maybe. We're safe now though and Naboo's gonna fix you up, good as new. Won't you, Naboolio?…Naboo?"

Howard and Vince both looked to Naboo who was frowning at Vince's ankle, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Worry quickly rising, Howard shuffled along to get a look at what was making the shaman look so despaired. He spotted it straight away. In Vince's ankle was an angry yet closed sphere of red-raw flesh, no larger than a grape. Yet, from that tiny hole, a thin, silver line beneath Vince's skin had spread up to a quarter way up his thigh.

"What is that?" Howard asked, never having seen anything like it before, and praying that Bollo would confess to doodling on Vince if he'd slipped out of consciousness for a second. "Is it…Anti-essence?"

Naboo nodded gravely; "He told you about this stuff then."

"Actually my…Uhm, yeah, I was told about it." Howard said, clearing his throat; "Is that's what's inside him now?"

"Yeah. And it's slowly making his way towards his heart." Naboo replied, not taking his concerned eyes off the silver line.

Howard gulped, part of him sensing that the next question was pointless to ask; "…And when it reaches his heart?"

Naboo looked up; "…Well. You saw what 'appened to the other two yeah? Only they were shot in the chest or near to so the poison spread quickly."

"Poison?!" Vince sat up slightly, his eyes wide; "I've been poisoned?!"

Howard gripped his hand again.

"Pretty much, yeah." said Naboo. "That's what this is, poison for your soul. Similar thing happened to Lance, recently, when he ate one of Harold's jazz lps and was infected with a jazz virus and we had to inject-"

"Yeah, yeah, been there, done that, got the scuba suit." Howard cut him off.

His mind was unwillingly cast back to the image of Vince lying on the counter, drenched with fever, dying, calling out to Howard for help in a voice that only he could understand. It had been the worst moment of his life until tonight.

Vince shuddered into his pillows; "…Am I gonna die?"

Howard felt his heart shatter. He clutched Vince's hand even tighter in his own.

Naboo looked his patient in the eyes; "I won't lie to you, Vince, this is bad ju ju. And there's no real known cure for Anti-Essense….But. There is a theory. It's never had a chance to be tested before but as far as I can see it makes sense. If I can gather the strengths of enough souls - or ghosts - into one vial then it should be able to combat the Anti-Essence in you the same way that the jazz cell was defeated. There's more than enough lost spirits in London for me to summon - it's just a matter of calling them all together in time and brewing the potion, and how long we've got before the Anti-Essence reaches your heart."

"How long is that?" Howard asked tentatively.

"I can't say, exactly. Judging by how far it's spread so far then…a few hours. Maybe more. It's working its way incredibly slowly which means that Vince's spirit must be putting up a good fight. The more optimistic he is, the more centred, then the more time you'll have."

"And how long will it take you to brew the potion?"

Naboo clicked his tongue; "…Six hours."

Vince gasped; "B-but you said I only had a few hours to go!"

"No! I said that's how long, based on how far it's travelled so far. If you just try and stay positive, put your minds off everything for a moment, enjoy yourselves if you can - then, with any luck, your spirit could easily hold back the Anti-essence and keep it below your waist for at least eight or nine hours tops."

Vince breathed a heavy sigh, relieved a little and closing his eyes to try and regain some of his usual sunshiney thoughts. Howard rubbed his shoulder supportively; "C'mon, Vince, focus. Just think of Mick n' Keith. Gary Numan. Ice cream in the park. Sales at Topshop."

"Mmmm," a contented smile began to worm it's way along his face; "90% off. Ah, that feels a bit better."

"Good lad." Howard said, stroking his hair back. He looked to Naboo again; "What about the Arbiter? He's gonna keep trying to get in to kill us both. And you two as well probably."

"Let him try. The hordes of Hell's warriors couldn't get through that barrier - and believe me, they've tried. Never try and cheat at a game of Go Fish against Satan." Naboo explained, proudly.

"But he's still out there, Naboo. We're gonna have to go outside eventually."

"I've got something planned, alright? Trust me. Head Shaman's been saying how he's sick of moonlighting for that guy. He'll help us sort him out, don't worry."

Vince resumed drinking the last of his smoothie. Howard merely decided to take those last two words as good advice and trust in Naboo. He'd always come through for them before. Most of the time. He prayed that the same good fortune applied in this altered reality.

"Anything I can do to help?" he asked before letting out a small yawn that appeared from god knows where.

"Yes. Rest. Sleep for a bit, if you can, you too Howard." Naboo said sharply. "You both look half-dead."

* * *

Bollo had clearly taken a bit of offense when Vince had said that he wanted Howard to half-walk, half-carry his limping form into their bedroom. Well, Lance and Harold's bedroom, which was more or less identical to their own. Vince had sat on the edge of Lance's bed, rummaging through his CD-rack and commenting distastefully on all his double's choices.

"Ugh, look at this rubbish!" the mod had cringed; "AC/DC, Adam Ant, The Cure, Human League!"

Howard had frowned; "Vince, you love all those artists."

"Yeah but at least I 'ave the original cassette tapes like a proper fan. Such an amateur. And 'ave you seen your copy cat's attempt at Stationary Village? Even the paperclips look eager to skip town. You should take them to your promised land, Sheriff."

"Might just do that. They can call me the Pencil Pimpernel."

Vince smirked cheekily; "Well the first syllable after 'Pencil' would be enough."

After a few more moments of light-hearted banter, Vince had begun to yawn wide and loud like a cat and Howard helped settle him down on Lance's bed. In order to keep an eye on the silver line, Howard had convinced Vince to change and remove his jeans. He'd handed him his favourite over-sized Stones t-shirt to wear but the mod had rejected it, scowling at the sight of the garment for obvious reasons of it's previous owner.

"Doesn't even feel as soft as my one." Vince had muttered before eyeing up Howard; "Your shirt looks comfier than that."

"Would you prefer my shirt?"

"…Yeah ok."

Howard's eyebrows had nearly shot clean off his face. He'd only suggested it as a joke. But the sickly smaller man now seemed determined. Sighing, Howard undid the buttons and detached himself from the shirt, handing it to his companion who slipped it over his half-naked body. Howard smiled at the sight. The shirt drowned Vince, making him look even smaller than usual. It was quite an adorable sight, he thought strangely to himself.

After doing up most of the buttons, Vince beamed at Howard gratefully and lay back down onto the sequin duvet whilst Howard put on a leaf green jumper from one of Harold's draws, not having quite the same level of revulsion for their deceased rivals as Vince did. He sat on his double's bed, against the headboard, knowing full well that Vince was still watching him.

"H'ward?" Vince finally broke the tired silence creeping upon them.

"Mmm?"

"Everything's gonna be alright, yeah? Naboo's gonna make the potion and cure me and then him or his shaman mates will take care of creepy cloaks for us. Right?"

Howard looked across the small gap in their room. He could've given his usual brutally honest answer. But this was a special case and Vince needed to be kept in blind optimism; "…That's right, little man. You just have a little sleepy and when you wake up, everything will be sorted."

"Genius." Vince yawned again.

Another pause.

"Howard?"

"Yes, Vince?"

"…I hate this bed. Can I…y'know?"

Howard had seen this request coming a mile off. Which meant he'd had time to prepare himself.

He shuffled up against the wall and patted the spot.

Soon enough, Vince had limped over the small gap and flopped down on Harold Boon's mattress, nestling down beside Howard and grinning sleepily up at him; "Thanks. You ain't so bad, are ya."

"Shut up and go to sleep, you." Howard chided softly, pulling Vince's side of the duvet up and over him, tucking him in slightly where he lay on his side.

Vince yawned for the final time; "Mmm'kay." He closed his eyes. Howard settled down beside him, watching intently as his breathing evened out into slumber. He kept stroking his hair in soft, slow motions, staring at the placated smile remaining on Vince's face, even in his sleep. He lay looking so angelically blissful, despite the frightfully sore marks on his foot, neck and face - he didn't let any of them affect his ever-resilient spirit. Howard thought he was incredible.

He tried not to listen to anything other than the sound of Vince's peaceful breathing. Not to try and hear the Arbiter pacing like a starving wolf on the hunt outside their sanctuary. Not to listen to his own erratic heart-beat affected by the knowledge that there was something, once again, inside Vince and slowly killing him - something that he was useless to defeating.

Howard didn't want to go to sleep. He wanted to stay wide awake and make sure that Vince's smile never fell from his face. But the night's traumatic events quickly caught up with him, pulling him into a reluctant slumber, the troubled universe descending into vague darkness in his mind's eye.

He wasn't even aware that he'd fallen asleep with his arm draped around his best friend.

Again, sorry for the grammer/spelling, if any I've missed, I'll check through again tomorrow. Feedback would be love, ta.