Disclaimer - I don't own Noel Fielding's Luxury Comedy, The Mighty Boosh or any characters involved. Copyright to Noel Fielding/Julian Barratt.

I'm really sorry I haven't updated all week, but I've just gone back to uni. But then, I'll actually be finished with my classes in only another couple of weeks. Anyway, this chapter's kind of short, but its feels-y. It's so close to the end now. Enjoy~


Chapter 27

"Evenin'." The Hitcher greeted him with what was probably an attempt at a friendly smile. Noel approached him a bit nervously, muttering a quiet "Alright?" in response. He still had to remind himself of the old man's desire to turn over a new leaf (again), especially with the menacing aura he gave off by waiting outside the Nabootique like that.

The Hitcher nodded towards the shop.

"Looks like you're home again, my boy," he mused, "I suppose this means you'll be going back now. Little Vincey's got to get back, eh?"

"Well…"

"Well what?" he took a step closer to Noel. A little too close, "You better not have forgotten our little talk, lad. I'm still expecting that 'appy ending."

"You'll get it, you will, it's just…" Noel held up his hands and backed off, "I don't exactly know how to go back. I could walk in there and just be Vince again, and all this could disappear, or it could do absolutely nothing. An' anyway, I need to say goodbye to this place first. All this does mean something, I know it does. I'll be going back there soon enough. But not quite yet. I am still Noel. Vince is here, yeah, but not all of him."

There was a pause while the Hitcher looked at him, his expression unreadable.

"Alright," he said eventually, bringing his cane dangerously close to Noel's neck, "But don't you be going back on your word, mate, or there'll be trouble."

Noel only nodded and went to turn away but then he stopped, looking back at the Hitcher.

"Thanks, by the way."

"What for?" there was a hint of suspicion in the old man's tone.

"For the warning. For telling me about Vince."

The Hitcher smiled, more genuinely this time, and gave him a short nod.

He knew things were really starting to come together now. That night, his dreams weren't filled with broken and jarring memories, but clear, peaceful and happy ones.

And he saw him.

This is difficult for me, but I feel as though I should say this. I love you, Vince.

He hadn't believed him when he said it back, but at least he'd said anyway.

Calm a llama down, calm a llama deep down in the ocean blue, like a barnacle.

You really can't crimp on your own. What's the point?

You're the least dark person I've ever met. You're like candy floss.

You cut me open, I'm made of black jacks.

You're fruit salad, Vince, everyone knows that.

The Sunshine Kid.

Only with him.

Without conversation, the mind withers, Vince.

What about me?

He'd been jealous of a coconut, for Christ's sake…

Eggs, milk and flour, pancake power, look at its milky yellow sunshine face.

It was those times, the little simple things when they were just together, that Vince remembered. That he remembered.

I went to the doctor's.

Oh, Christ…

He's confirmed the worst.

Hey, I'm here for you.

You mean that, Howard?

Of course I do.

It had been a nice moment. Howard's hand on his shoulder, and his hand on Howard's. Their eyes locked.

I'm in love with someone already!

When he woke up the next morning, he felt strangely calm. Everything was there, in his head, but it felt clear for the first time in what seemed like forever.