I can't seem to let these two go. Lol. I just wanted to write a little bit about them in Scotland, I think mainly to give me closure, which is tragic really - lol. So, here's the epilogue!
Dedicated to Anyone who's read this far!
Howard stirred sleepily and pulled the thick duvet around his shoulders. He reached out an arm to pull Vince closer. He flapped around but he couldn't feel anyone. Howard opened one heavy lid and was greeted by an empty room. This wasn't really that surprising; Vince never had a lie in. The younger man seemed to have some half-baked idea that if you stayed in bed past about eight o'clock you missed the best bit of the day. Howard still maintained that the evening was the best bit of the day, he liked curling up with a book or with Vince and just relaxing.
He got up slowly and padded over to the large double windows. Opening the curtains, he revealed the most magnificent view. He never got tired of it and every morning it took his breath away. In the distance, there were looming mountains and dancing between the crevices was a youthful stream, which flowed all the way down to the small Scottish village that they now called home. Directly below him, he could see Vince and Naboo chasing butterflies in the garden. Howard shook his head fondly, no one would ever believe that Vince was thirty next week, not that they were allowed to talk about that.
("So, the big three, zero."
"Shut up!"
"How d'you think I feel? I'm forty."
"Two."
"Alright, I'm forty-two."
"Yeah, but it's okay for you. You're old! You look old. I'm still young!"
"Hell you are!". They'd both sulked like stroppy teenagers after that, maybe they weren't so old after all.)
The garden itself was all beautiful flowers, garden seats and ponds with giant goldfish (giant goldfish whose main purpose in life seemed to be to annoy the hell out of Naboo). It seemed to stretch for miles and Howard wouldn't bother with it but an old woman, named Mrs White, had taken and uncanny shine to Vince and insisted she'd come and weed, plant, cut and what ever else she did every Wednesday morning to keep it in this Hallmark greeting card state. The vast lawn in the centre was beautifully kept as well, mainly because Vince liked riding the tractor-cum-lawnmower around to cut the grass, usually in patterns. At the moment, it was a delicate spiral, twirling gracefully until it peaked at the pond in the middle. Howard had laughed when Vince had shown off his handy work. Vince had sulked and eventually Howard had had to admit it was quite good because Vince was refusing to let him back in the house. All in all, the garden had become an integral part of their new lives, so Howard's suggestion a few months ago to 'just tarmac the whole thing' had gone down very badly.
Just then, Vince looked up and spotted Howard in the window. He waved manically. Howard raised his hand in acknowledgement and wondered whether Vince really was enthusiastic about everything.
"It's the Scottish air." Vince had claimed a while ago, "I think it makes everyone happy." And he had a point. Everyone in the village always had a cheerful smile on their face.
When they'd first moved in, Howard would never have believed they would have fitted in as well as they did. It helped, he supposed, that Vince had the ability to befriend everyone he met. Howard had laughed in his face when the younger man had suggested he was a 'people person' but annoyingly it turned out to be mostly true. Villagers were always dropping in to say 'hello' and he did seem to get on with everyone. Although Howard remembered fondly the day Vince had sworn at the vicar when he had asked if they wanted to join his parish.
"You're going to hell now." Howard had muttered in his ear as they started to walk away.
"As though killing and thieving ain't enough to condemn me to eternal damnation."
"You know," The vicar had called after them, "God loves all his children and accepts them readily if they repent."
"What's repent mean?"
"Regret." Howard had supplied.
"Nah." Vince had grinned up at Howard, "I don't regret nothing I've done."
He'd tried to hold Howard's hand then but, just like all those years ago, Howard shook him off. Howard didn't want them to be known as the two gay blokes at number 6. Though he needn't have worried, it seemed most people in the village knew them as "That nice Vince Noir and his grumpy boyfriend."
"It's pretty accurate really." Vince had beamed one evening when he'd told Howard.
"No it's not. I'm not a boy, I'm forty-two. And I'm not grumpy."
"You are, compared to everyone else here you're as miserable as the Grinch… and the Nazis. You're a Nazi Grinch."
"Thanks."
"I reckon I know why though." Vince had concluded, settling down on the sofa, his head in Howard's lap.
"Why?" The older man had asked as he'd patiently brushed his fingers through Vince's long hair. Well, he'd only moan if he didn't.
"You miss it, don't you? The thrill, the danger, the rush of adrenaline. You miss being a mysterious villain."
"Do you?"
Vince thought for a second and then said; "No. I don't. Not even one bit."
"Me neither."
And he didn't, not all the time. Now and again, when Vince was off cutting some old biddy's hair and Howard was left alone with nothing to do but think, he would miss the tension of always having to look over your shoulder, the buzz of nearly being caught and the intensity of the old life but he was happy enough. He certainly didn't miss it enough to risk losing everything he'd built up for himself here. And Vince loved it here, that much was obvious. He loved the fact that he could walk around freely and not have to think about where his next meal was coming from, or where the best place would be to mug someone. Howard supposed it was because Vince and Howard got into crime for different reasons. For Howard, it was the lure of the thrill and highlife, the big payouts for minimal work. For Vince, it was a necessity to stay alive, to keep his home and eat regularly. Howard had been greedy, whereas Vince had been desperate.
"Hey!" Vince beamed, when Howard finally stepped into the garden, dashed with warm august sun. "You've been sleeping for ages."
"Mmm." was all Howard had chance to say before Vince had attacked his mouth with his own.
"So," the younger man smiled, as he drew away for some much needed air, arms still firmly wrapped around Howard's waist "what are we going to do today?"
There were so many possibilities each of which was sickeningly sweeter than the last. "I don't know."
"Because I was thinking we could have a barbeque and invite the village."
"You think we should invite everyone in the village into our house."
"No, into our garden."
"Right, wait. You think we should cook for everyone in the village?"
"No."
"Good."
"I think you should cook for everyone in the village."
"What?"
"Well, I'm not going near that barbeque again. I singed my hair last time." Vince whined, inspecting the ends of his hair as though just the memory of the incident would have caused damage to his precious locks.
"Only because you used an entire bottle of lighter fluid." Howard chuckled fondly.
"You didn't tell me how much I needed."
"I might have known it'd be my fault."
"Yup."
"Well, I don't know if I want to barbeque lots of burgers and stuff."
"Tough, you are."
"What?"
"I've already invited everyone."
"You've what!? When?"
"This morning, I was going to ask you but you were asleep."
Typical, Howard groaned internally as he made a mental note to wake up earlier in future.
"Anyway," Vince continued, "Meat's in the fridge and I've moved the barbeque from under the trees because Mrs White said we'd set fire to them."
"That would be a shame." Howard muttered sarcastically, earning himself a hard thump on the shoulder.
"Don't be so ungrateful, Rosemary does a brilliant job here."
"Rosemary? Is that her name?" scoffed Howard.
"Yeah, I know and she's into plants… I get it. It's unfortunate. It'd be like calling you… Revolver coz you're into guns."
"Well, no, not quite, because naming a child Revolver would probably be classed as child abuse."
"Whatever." Vince sighed, manoeuvring himself and Howard's arm so that he could see the older man's watch. "Damn. I'm going to be late."
"For what?"
"I've entered Naboo for 'Best Cat In Show'"
"You're kidding."
"I'm not. Reckon he's gonna win too."
"He's got no fur!"
"Well… no, but he's obedient and stuff."
"He looks like a dog ate him and then spat him back out again because he tasted of shit."
"Howard!" Vince looked indignant and punched Howard on the shoulder again.
"Will you stop doing that?" Howard growled, pinning Vince's arms at his side.
"Ooo." Vince giggled girlishly, "Mr Moon, you are sexy when you're angry."
"Yeah?" smirked Howard, pulling Vince closer forcefully.
Vince nodded, eyes wide and innocent, nibbling sexily on his bottom lip. Howard just smiled and closed the minuscule gap between them. He was amazed that kissing Vince never got boring. It still gave him butterflies, it still felt amazing, it still felt like that very first time in the attic. Howard deepened the kiss and felt a small surge of pride as Vince groaned into his mouth. They fell awkwardly to the floor, hands started to roam, mouths started to explore. Howard was just considering whether there was enough protection from the road to just go for it right here on the lawn when a loud cough stopped them in their tracks.
They both looked up.
"Alright Nick." Vince grinned, giving Howard one last peck on the cheek before pushing himself to his feet and straightening his attire.
"Are you ready?" the man called Nick asked as he lifted up a scrawny, greyish-brown, patchy cat with dead black eyes and one ear.
"What the hell is that?" Howard hissed in Vince's ear as he refastened his belt quickly.
"That," Vince grinned, calling Naboo to stand at his ankles, "is the only other entrant in the cat show."
"It's hideous."
"Told you Naboo was going to win." Vince beamed, "You ready Nick?" he asked, returning his attention to the blushing man by the gate.
"Yeah."
"Cool." He smiled at Howard, kissing his cheek again. "I'll see you later."
"Right. Erm, good luck I guess."
"Awwww. You're so soft sometimes."
"Shut up." Now it was Howard's turn to blush.
"Don't forget to barbeque."
"I won't." He sighed as he watched Vince positively skip down the road followed by Nick, Naboo and another equally disgusting cat.
He groaned as he heaved hundreds of burgers, hotdogs and chicken legs from the fridge to the barbeque. He swore loudly when he burnt his hand on the side of the barbeque and was all ready to kill Vince for organising this stupid bloody barbeque when he got home. But, when Vince and Naboo actually returned with a blue ribbon, a bottle of Champagne and £500, all thoughts of murder were wiped from his mind. And, maybe it was the Scottish air, but when they started doing a 'victory dance' around the garden, Howard couldn't help but sing and dance along with them.
Yes, Howard missed the old life but this new one was so much better.