Author's Note: I think I'm actually starting to get the hang of this, but a review would be lovely all the same.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Howard could only stare, open mouthed, as the tiny child blinked up at him, struggling to make sense of its surroundings through its sleep muddled brain.
"Don't worry little one, I'm here now," he whispered. "My name's Howard. You're safe here."
Those eyes blinked up at him again and Howard felt the air being pulled from his lungs with such force he actually felt dizzy. Those eyes. Giant and clear and blue and achingly familiar. He fumbled for the phone.
"This is definitely your child, Vince. I mean... wow."
He let the phone fall from his hand again as the tiny lip began to tremble.
"It's alright little one," he murmured. "I'm here to look after you. Do you understand?"
The tiny child nodded and Howard nodded back. Good, they were communicating, getting somewhere. No matter what else happened, Howard knew, even if Vince couldn't accept fatherhood, he would look after this child.
He noticed Naboo, shuffling from foot to foot, looking lost in his own home, and had a thought. Turning to the child he gave a little child didn't smile back but didn't burst into tears either, which Howard took as a good sign.
"You know what? I'm quite hungry. I fancy something to eat." He took a deep breath, hoping silently that this plan would work.
"Are you hungry, too? Would you like something to eat?"
The giant blue eyes widened, Howard wasn't even sure how it was possible, until they seemed to fill half the tiny, round cheeked face. It looked like a bush baby, which made Howard smile again. Our little bush baby, he thought. Our boosh baby.
As no answer seemed to be forthcoming Howard turned to Naboo who almost lost his turban, he jumped so violently when Howard said his name.
"Naboo, do you think you could make us some cheese toasties? We're starved."
Recovering himself, Naboo nodded, gave Howard a grateful look, and headed into the kitchen area to prepare the food. This way he could still hear what was being said without it seeming like he was just standing around, listening in.
Turning back to the child, Howard wondered where he should start. What was most important? How could he ask the questions that needed asking without scaring the kid and causing more tears? He had no previous experience in this field but he was a man of action, so he kept telling people, and he felt that that required him to at least make an effort.
Looking into those eyes though, Howard realised that he wasn't entirely without experience after all. Those eyes, blue and wide and a bit wild, they were a mirror image of Vince's eyes when they'd met all those years ago. Back then he'd simply gone with what felt natural. It seemed like good advice.
"So," he said, trying not to seem intimidating. "My name's Howard. What's yours?"
The blue eyes wavered for a minute before Howard saw the lips move to form what may have been a name. His forehead creased and, for once, the thought of crows-feet and wrinkles didn't even cross Howard's mind.
"What was that, sweetheart?" he asked as gently as he could. He could see the tiny body starting to shake beneath the cheap blanket.
"I's Blanche," came a tiny, croaky voice.
Howard gave a reassuring nod. "Thank you, Blanche," he said, trying to appear calm whilst his brain pelted along at a hundred miles a second.
Blanche was a girl's name, as far as he was aware, which at least gave them an answer to the question of gender. But something was bothering him about the name. It was french, wasn't it? They'd studied French at school, he and Vince, but he'd never been any good at it. Vince had been surprisingly profficient, at least when it came yo learning to speak the language. He'd struggled enough with reading and writing English so had never been able to read French but he'd learnt the language none the less, which was coming handy now, living in Paris and socialising with the French elite. He'd know what a name like Blanche was supposed to mean. Maybe it was a clue as to where the girl had come from.
Thinking of Vince made Howard realise that he could hear Vince's voice and he remembered the phone he'd dropped on to the sofa when Blanche had woken. Vince's faint voice could be heard yelling down the line, calling his name.
At that moment Naboo approached with two plates of cheese toasties. He handed one to Howard and one to Blanche who looked at the food with an expression of wonder before attacking it like a half-starved puppy which, in a sense, she was.
With the little girl completely absorbed in her meal, Howard retrieved the phone and held it up, immediately regretting doing so when Vince yelled in his ear.
"Howard! Howard!"
"I'm here, Vince, you don't have to yell."
"Sorry," Vince sounded a little hoarse and Howard felt a little bad. The poor man had obviously been yelling for some time, desperately trying to get Howard's attention.
"Sorry, Howard but, did I hear right? Is her name Blanche? Cos if it is, well, I think I know who the mum might be."
Howard was a little surprised at this. How could Vince narrow down the possibilities so quickly.
"How can you tell, Vince? Just from Blanche's name? Was that the mother's name too?"
Vince's voice suddenly sounded very small through the phone and Howard could feel himself getting anxious.
"No," he whispered. "Her name's Madeline. She- she was a punk girl, back when I was just getting into the scene." Vince took a shuddery breath, remembering that not-so-pleasant episode of their lives. Howard frowned at the memory as well. It hadn't been pleasant for anyone, except for Lester, maybe.
"She was well rough," Vince continued in a voice almost devoid of emotion. "But she seemed kind of nice at first. Was well impressed when I told her that her name was French, like my name, and that I could talk French at her. Laughed when I said Noir means black. Said I was about as black as a snowflake, and as hard as one too." He laughed then, but there was no humour in it and it made Howard feel uncomfortable. It didn't sound like his Vince at all.
"She showed me 'round, took me to a heaving punk club and bought me a ton of drinks. She told me she could get me into a band, did get me into a band. But... she wanted something in return."
Howard heard Vince shudder but at first he didn't understand what his friend was implying.
"I don't-" He frowned in confusion.
"Oh, Jeez, Howard!" Vince cried, his voice going so high it cracked. "She promised to get me in the band if I... if I got off with her."
The silence that followed the confession was so oppressive that for a few moments Howard didn't think he could draw breath.
"Do you mean...?"
"Yeah, Howard. Sex. That's the normal way babies get started, ain't it? Even you know that, surely."
The bitterness in Vince's voice was almost physically painful and cut Howard deeply. There was no savlon for the mind and Vince had always had a talent for hurting his best mate. But, despite the pain the insult caused him, Howard got the feeling that saying all of this aloud was hurting Vince a lot more than him.
"I'm sorry, Howard," came a voice that sounded ridiculously young to be coming from a fully grown man. "I know you think I'm a right slag who'll get off with anyone but I, I don't, I'd never... never like that, and it..."
Vince's voice petered out and Howard felt swamped by the emotions that seemed to be pouring through the phone receiver. He thought about Vince's behaviour in the days leading up to his gig with the punk band. How volatile he'd been, how keen to pick a fight, how easily he'd caved to the peer pressure and bullying of his band mates. How vulnerable and unsure of himself he'd been in the weeks after the incident.
He didn't know what to say. The conversation had drifted into territory he just didn't know how to deal with and he needed to find something safe to distract Vince as well as himself.
He looked at the tiny girl-child next to him on the sofa. She had finished her own toasties and was eyeing his hungrily. He quickly slid them onto her plate and she pounced on them.
"So Blanche is a French name, then?"
It seemed a redundant question really but he needed to do something to stop the sound of Vince's uneven breathing in his ear.
"Yeah, it is," Vince answered. "And if she's my daughter, which I'm guessing she is, then her name is her mother's idea of a joke."
Howard frowned.
"A joke? How so?"
"It means White, Howard."
He was still a little confused until finally the pieces slotted into place.
"So her name is, um, Blanche Noir, then?'
Vince gave another little, humorless laugh which ended in a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob.
"Yeah. Her name's Blanche Noir. White Black. Weak joke, huh? But more than I would have expected from that woman. She had less brain cells than me and I've only got one! Maybe she had help. Still, I bet she knew it'd annoy me. Oh God, I'm a dad!"
The last sentence was said with a squeak that Mickey Mouse would have been jealous of and made Howard smile. Maybe there was hope for this little family yet. Perhaps there was hope for him and Vince...
"Vince, you have to come home. You can see that now, can't you? Your daughter needs you." I need you.
The silence lasted so long that Howard began to worry that the call had dropped out before Vince finally spoke again.
"But I can't, Howard."
The anger exploded inside of Howard. He had truly thought that knowing he had a child might make Vince take a little responsibility, grow up a bit, but no. He was as selfish and vain as ever.
"How can you say that?" he asked through clenched teeth, trying to contain his rage so as not to frighten Blanche.
"How can modeling be more important than this?"
"It's not that, Howard, and anyway-"
"Save it, Vince. Save your excuses for your shallow, glittery-"
"Howard, shut up!"
Vince didn't really shout that often, not in anger, and so the outburst caught Howard off guard but as he mentally regrouped he thought he could hear Vince grinning through the phone. It was a smile that could be felt all the way from Paris.
"I can't leave right now, Howard, it's complicated," he told him in a much calmer voice. "But there's no reason you guys can't come to me now is there?"
Howard was stunned and before he could stutter a reply Vince continued.
"I'll get my PA to organise it today and give you call. Her names's Ami, she's great, she'll sort everything. I have to go now, Howard. My hair needs serious attention, but I'll see you soon, yeah?"
"Um, yeah," Howard nodded.
"Oh, and Howard?" Vince asked, his voice sounding warmer than he had heard it in a long time. "Take good care of my daughter, alright? And tell her that her daddy can't wait to meet her?"