Author's Note: Another chapter. Thanks for the reviews, I do hope this is going ok. It seems to be coming out quite quickly. Slow week at work in the basement.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh. I've got their DVDs and book but that's it.

Howard's first thoughts upon waking were something along the lines of: 'Help! Help! I'm being eaten by a duvet monster! Don't kill me, I've got so much to give!' Only slightly less coherent.

When he recovered and realised where he was he then started panicking about the fact that neither Blanche nor Vince was asleep beside him. He was alone. And where had the sheets gone?

Yesterday had been... strange. He'd gone from feeling hurt and lonely in a dusty junk shop in Dalston to emotionally overloaded in a giant bed in Paris with his best friend and his best friend's daughter. Who they'd only met that morning. It was enough to do any man of action's head in and part of him wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. The other part of his brain, however, needed to know where Blanche and Vince were. Had they left without him in the night? Abandoning him once more just when he thought things were going to turn out alright? No, Vince wouldn't run away from his own apartment. If he was going to abandon Howard he'd do it by kicking him out and never speaking to him again.

The thought made Howard shudder and he pushed it away. He couldn't let that happen.

Perhaps, he thought, Blanche had woken Vince up and he had taken her to get some breakfast. That made more sense, but still didn't explain the lack of bed sheets. Unless...

The faint smell of ammonia still lingered around the mattress and Howard frowned, realising what must have happened. How had Vince coped? How had he removed the sheets without waking him? And, most importantly, where were the pair now?

Knowing that he wasn't going to find anything out if he stayed in bed, Howard pulled himself up and stumbled across to the door. The clock by the bed told him it was just gone seven in the morning. Vince was not an early riser. They couldn't have gone far.

He crept down the quiet hallway toward the lounge area and heard the sound a squeaky voice speaking French and the sort of mindless music that he associated with Vince's favourite cartoons. Sure enough, when he entered the room the television was on, showing a bizarre cartoon of a cat being chased by a cockroach of all things, but it took him a moment longer to find Vince and Blanche.

They were tucked up on the sofa together, wrapped in a stylish throw and looking like a pair of angels. Blanche's hair was clean, he noticed, and looked like spun gold while Vince's was a ripple of midnight. They were both wearing t-shirts he knew well and he felt a pang in his chest at the memories those simple items of clothing held, and the fact that Vince had kept them, despite the fact that they probably weren't fashionable enough to wear out of doors.

Howard reached into his pocket and pulled out his camera phone, glad for once that Vince had insisted on such a fancy piece of technology for him. He snapped a photo (or two or three) of the sleeping pair and then tip toed out of the room, leaving the Noirs to their beauty sleep.

He discovered the sodden bedding in the laundry and piled it into the needlessly fancy washing machine and then went to shower, discovering that Vince's building was fancy enough that running the washer did not in fact impact on his hot water supply in the bathroom. That certainly made a change. He was fairly sure that Bollo actually waited until he was in the shower to turn on the washer back home. The ape just liked to hear him yelp whenever the water's temperature or pressure changed.

He took his time showering and dressing in the only outfit he'd had time to pack. He had thought that the clothes he'd thrown into the bag had been random but the trousers were a pair he liked because Vince had never insulted them and his blazer was one that Vince had actually complemented. Well, he'd said the cord was chunky and that it felt good to touch.

Back in the lounge room there were still two sleeping Noirs and Howard wondered how much of the night they'd spent awake. He headed into the kitchen, eventually finding a beaten up packet of instant pancake mix at the back of the pantry. It only required he add water and while he was sure it wouldn't be as good as the real thing he hoped it would entice both Blanche and Vince to emerge and eat enough to make their bones less prominent under their skin.

Sure enough, by the time the second pancake was beginning to sizzle he could hear two sets of bare feat thundering across the floorboards and a giggle that sounded like glitter.

He knew it was a ridiculous thing to liken a laugh to but the sound just reminded him of glitter, all light and colour and magic. It was the most wonderful laugh he'd ever heard.

Howard turned in time to see two stunning faces peek around the doorway. If anyone else tried that move it would look ridiculous, absurd. When Vince and Blanche did it, it was adorable.

"Howard? Howard? Howard. Howard!"

"H'ward?"

Howard jumped, coming out of his revery at the sound of Blanche saying his name.

"Yes, love?"

Vince gave a wicked grin.

"Pancake's burning. Love."

Howard span back to the fry pan and flipped the pancake awkwardly, feeling like it was his cheeks that were burning instead of the food. He heard Blanche's tinkling laugh again but it only made his blush worse. Vince had always been a flirt, pressing up against him, stripping his clothes off without a thought, dancing like a member of Destiny's Child and looking up at Howard through his long lashes when he wanted something he couldn't get for himself. Howard had never let it get to him. Not like this.

He tried to compose himself but didn't get a chance because all at once he was surrounded by arms, Vince's around his waist and Blanche's around his leg. They were both giggling now and Howard fought not to let the words out.

"Don't-"

He stopped himself just in time. He didn't want them to not touch him at all. He couldn't imagine telling little Blanche not to touch him. That would be like kicking a puppy made of candy floss. It just shouldn't be done.

"Don't what, Howard?" Vince purred in his ear.

"Don' wha, H'ward?" Blanche echoed and Howard started to chuckle despite himself.

"Don't... burn yourselves on the stove top?"

Vince gave a little laugh and let go. He picked up his daughter and placed her up on the counter top before bouncing up to sit next to her. They began to swing their legs in unison and sent identical cheeky grins in Howard's direction. He turned his attention back to the task of making breakfast, pouring out a third pancake and putting the first two on to separate small plates.

To think that twelve hours ago he'd been worried that Vince wouldn't be able deal with having a child in his life, or that Blanche would be afraid of her father. The two were like extensions of one another and seemed to share the quirks of personality and mannerism that made it obvious that they were related, if their almost-identical features weren't enough evidence of that fact. Thankfully Blanche's nose was small and delicate, though. Vince's beak, while full of character, would probably not have suited her.

They were perfect for each other and Howard began to worry again that they wouldn't need him at all.

Perhaps there was still something he could do.

"I hope you're hungry, you two," he said as he handed them each a plate, watching carefully for a reaction. He wasn't disappointed. Blanche's face was priceless. Her giant baby blues wide in delight at the sight of what was likely her first ever pancake. Vince's face, on the other hand, had gone pale. His eyes were just as wide as his daughter's but there was no delight. If anything he looked scared. Why in the name of the king of Xooberon was Vince afraid of a pancake?

"Wow, Howard," Vince stuttered. "That's... um..."

"Genius?" Blanche prompted innocently.

"Yeah," Vince squeaked. "Genius."

Howard pushed the plate into Vince's hands and folded his arms, ready to watch him eat the whole thing when his plan was suddenly and annoyingly interrupted by the shrill chime of the door bell.

"I'll get it!"

Vince just about ran from the room, thrusting the plate with the uneaten pancake back at Howard as he disappeared in a blur of black hair and green t-shirt.

"Just remember you're not wearing any trousers!" Howard called after him. "You remember what happened the last time you opened a door in only your pants? I don't want a repeat of the Leg Looter Incident, do you?"

He heard Vince give a short laugh as he ran back past the door trying to pull up a pair of electric blue drainpipes. It was echoed by a muffled laugh from Blanche who, Howard realised, had finished her own pancake and was halfway through Vince's.

Howard sighed.

At least one of them was eating.