NOTETHENOTES: Uploaded now cause I doubt I'll have internet next week :/

Chapter 17

The cold winter air greeted Howard as he rose to consciousness. He pulled the duvet tighter around him and gave himself a minute's peace and relaxation before finally forcing himself up and out of bed. He'd finally gotten used to ducking his head as he rose, after striking it harshly on the bed above him every morning for the past week.

He and Vince had traded off sleeping on the couch for the first weeks of Vince's moving in. When their monthly cheques finally arrived, Howard had planned on pulling their money together and buying a bunk bed. That way he was sure to have plenty left over to spend on groceries and the like.

Those plans were tied up in a sack and tossed out to sea when Vince disappeared soon after receiving his cheque, only to be discovered hours later in the hut, surrounded by candy. Howard had stared down at the teenager sitting cross-legged on the floor, strawberry bootlace hanging from his mouth in mid-chew.

Howard closed the door as well as his eyes, sighing.

"Did you just spend your entire wage on confections?"

Vince's brow dropped slightly, and he reached behind him and held up a small glass container of nailpaint for Howard to see.

"No! I also got this. It's the perfect shade!"

Howard glared at the tiny bottle of pale purple, and then past it to the blue eyes belonging to the bane of his existence. Vince lowered the nailpaint, looking suddenly ashamed. He glanced about him at the piles of wrappers and bags of sweets, and then up at Howard, utterly morose expression in place.

"I might've gone overboard... I didn't mean to! It's just...I never got to have, y'know, sweets when I was younger. Only a little every now an' then, like when a kid in class offered it, which was practically never! I only meant to buy a bit, honest! I just got caught up in wantin' to try everythin', and..."

Vince trailed off with a helpless shrug, eyes wide at Howard, who's anger had melted long-since Vince gave him those puppy eyes. Still, this put him in a rough patch, and he was determined to at least make the kid think he was in hot water.

The man huffed and walked into the kitchen, putting the kettle on and leaning against the counter, observing the boy as he gathered all the opened wrappers and foils together in his arms. Hell, the kid was already over halfway through his pile, and there was a lot of candy around him. Vince silently stuffed the rubbish into the kitchen bin, and then gathered the remaining candy and stacked it all nicely on one of the small tables.

'Well, the kid must really be feeling guilty, if he's cleaning up this well after himself.'

Suddenly Vince's posture went funny, and he froze where he stood, halfway to the sofa. Before Howard could go to him, the kid was racing to the toilet with a hand clamped over his mouth. Howard could only stand in the doorway as Vince was sick, sympathetic but at the same time knowing that it served the little brat right for downing that much sugar in one go. Yes sir, he definitely wouldn't be blowing his cheques like that again, Howard was sure of it.

Sunday morning, the very next day, Howard left Vince fast asleep on the couch and went out to purchase a bunk bed. He later reflected that he could've planned better. Just how exactly does one get a bunk bed to their house without some kind of vehicle?

Luckily for Howard the bed came in pieces, and the owner of the small shop took pity on him once he'd realised his predicament. Howard guessed the guy thought he was a single father with no car, trying to get his kids a bed. Howard didn't bother to correct him. For just £10 extra the man agreed to drive Howard and his purchases to his home. He did give Howard quite a strange look when they pulled up outside the zoo gates, but at least he lent a hand with removing the bed pieces in their wooden boxes from the car before driving off with a few mutters under his breath.

There were three large boxes, quite heavy even for Howard, who was proud to say he had acquired a healthy amount of strength from nearly eight years as a zookeeper. He'd have to make three trips; three very arduous trips. Howard sighed as he flashed his pass at Graham, knowing he'd have to do that twice more before the day was up, and began struggling toward the hut with his arms full of scratchy, heavy wood.

After a long trip filled with sweat, panting, and readjusting his grip, Howard set the box down heavily to open the Lodge door. He didn't want to risk scratching the floor by pushing the box along, so with a deep breath he lifted it once more, feeling sweat gather annoyingly on his upper lip.

He didn't notice that Vince was awake until he set the box down in the centre of the room and turned to the couch. The kid was tangled in the duvet, arm dangling to the floor, eyes bleary but focused on Howard.

"Wha's that?"

He twitched his hanging hand and looked down at the box, other hand emerging from under the duvet to rub at his eyes.

"It's our new bunk bed. I got it cheap at that old second-hand shop down the road. It's old but it's sturdy, and this way I've managed to save just enough money to afford plenty to eat this month.

There was that guilty look again. Howard hadn't told Vince his previous plan of pulling their cash together, but the boy seemed to have figured it out on his own. Seems the kid wasn't as thick as he let on. Howard told him that there were still two more crates, and that he would be back in a few minutes, before heading out the door. Vince rose tiredly from the couch, clad only in his vest and pants, and followed Howard out.

Despite Howard's protests that Vince go back to the Lodge, the boy just followed him silently all the way back to the gates. Howard kept looking back at him and cringing; the boy had to be cold, what with the morning winter air nipping at Howard through his jacket. But if the kid had any complaint, he kept it to himself. Well fine, if the nuisance wanted to freeze and trail after Howard for two trips, that was his choice. Howard wasn't his father.

Bracing himself for the heavy load, Howard paused with his hands on the second box, watching in surprise as Vince walked over to the last box and studied the hulking thing as if he were actually considering picking it up. Howard nearly laughed out loud; the thing weighed more than the kid! Howard also didn't want Vince hurting himself by trying to carry such a heavy crate, so he raised his hand in the air, calling out the teen's name.

"Vince, hey, why don't you leave that to me, yeah? I'll just get it on my next trip out, alright?"

Vince favoured him with a scowl, copying Howard's stance and putting his hands on the third box.

"I ain't weak!"

With a look of determination, Vince bent down and hefted up the box. Howard could pinpoint the exact moment the kid realised this was a bad idea, and couldn't keep the grin off his face as the boy staggered and quickly dropped the box, hopping back to avoid it landing on his bare toes. He sent a glare Howard's way before huffing and staring at the ground.

Howard then lifted up his own box, feeling very powerful indeed, only to deflate when Graham let them back in without needing to see their passes, sending a friendly wave to Vince and a suspicious glance at Howard.

Vince led the way, clearly sulking, and Howard had the grace to erase his smug expression by the time they were back in the hut. Vince resolutely followed Howard back out for the third trip, even though he simply stood at the gate with his arms crossed, observing in silence. Howard was honestly surprised at how put off the boy seemed by his lack of physical strength, and yet didn't seem to care at all that he was prancing about in little blue pants for all to see.

Howard would never figure this boy out.

Sitting on the floor beside the boy and staring silently at the gathered parts of their new bed lying in a great big pile was getting Howard nowhere. There was a manual, but great help those always were...

Vince sighed into his cup of tea, clearly bored and still sulky about before. Howard gave a sigh of his own, this one of resolve, and knee-walked over to the heap of wood. Grabbing up the manual, he looked about the room for a good space to put the bed. They couldn't very well have it in the corner to the right of the front door; that was the kitchen. And the back walls held animal food and various supplies, as well as Howard and Vinces' dressers.

So the left wall it was, then. Howard only had to move the small table with the phone into the corner, dragging the phone cord behind. Soon Howard had the base of the bottom bed frame situated nicely. Picking up the little screwdriver he had had the mind to purchase, Howard got to work assembling the beds, and in just under an hour he stood before his new bed, feeling very proud of himself.

Sending a quick glance down at Vince, who had sat mutely on the sofa the entire time with his cold cup of tea. Howard supposed the boy refused to help out of some misplaced sense of spite. Really, it wasn't Howard's fault the kid was practically a toothpick!

Turning to face the boy, Howard let a wide grin overcome his features, but before he could open his mouth, Vince spoke in a quick monotone, face blank.

"Where's the mattresses?"

Howard's mouth closed with a clack.

"And the sheets."

Holy hell; could he have actually forgotten to buy some goddamn mattresses?

"And pillows."

Howard rested his face in his hands. In all his excitement as well as minding how much he spent, Howard had bought a bunk bed frame, but failed to purchase all the rest that came with it.

'Fuck's sake, Moon.'

Howard kicked the screwdriver, sending it skittering across the floor. If Vince was smirking, and Howard had a good inkling he was, he hid it well behind his cup.

Needless to say, the two had to spend one last night without the beds. Howard relinquished the sofa to Vince despite it being his turn, since he blamed himself for their lack of beds. Vince had been reluctant, first claiming that he liked the floor just fine, and then suggesting he and Howard share the couch. Like hell that was happening. Howard had curled up in the sleeping bag immediately, cutting off further argument.

Howard stretched his arms high above his head, mentally shaking the final pulls of sleep off and turned to look up at the mound of blankets that was the kid. He would never understand how someone could be so comfortable in such a position; curled in a ball on his side, Vince was tightly cucooned with only the top of his head showing. Howard much preferred sleeping on his back with feet hanging out of his duvet.

Howard sighed and reached up to lightly push against the blue fabric, calling softly the boy's name. On his fourth go, Vince finally began to stir, a low groan coming from the pile. After about five minutes of continuous nudging by Howard, the kid finally turned over to peek blearily down at the older man.

"Come on, Vince, you should be used to our hours by now. Get up."

"Why the bloody hell do we have to get up at the friggin' crack o' dawn. The animals can wait."

Howard just gave the duvet one more pat and moved into the kitchen to start some coffee. He agreed completely with the boy, but one of them had to be the adult.

Vince groaned and muttered as he slithered feet first off the top bunk like a snake, not bothering to jump down like a normal person. He walked to the other end of the room with his eyes plastered shut, and began fumbling around in the second dresser.

Here was the part where Howard stood facing the coffee pot, not daring to turn around. Vince never bothered to go into the bathroom to get dressed like Howard, he simply began peeling off his threadbare Bowie shirt and pants and slipped into clean clothes that he always doused with perfume after he washed them. The boy didn't have many clothes, but he took amazingly good care of the ones he did own, which surprised Howard, what with how reckless the boy behaved on a daily basis.

Howard knew it was safe to turn around when he saw the boy from the corner of his vision as Vince headed toward the door to pull on his Keeper jacket and put on his favorite pair of boots.

The two spent a few minutes downing hot cups of coffee (Howard had been reticent to let Vince drink the stuff, but it was the only thing that truly woke the kid up), then Howard gathered together his own clothes for the day and slipped into the bathroom. When he came out soon after, raking his fingers through his hair, which seemed shorter than Howard remembered it just a few days ago, Howard observed yet another daily ritual he had grown accustomed to. Vince stood facing the small oval mirror standing on top of his dresser. Howard had never braved the small drawers to find out just what lay in their depths, but they seemed endless.

The kid was currently combing his hair, trying to get the short ends at the top to stand slightly up. He seemed to be growing it out, the black and red now spilling over the back of his neck. Howard would never understand it. If Tommy were here, he'd think Vince were a witch, or a woman.

Wow. That was the first time Howard had thought of Nooka in months.

"Alright, Howard?"

The man realised he had been staring off into space, or rather, at the kid, who was done beautifying himself it seemed.

"Yeah."

That was all Howard offered, and it was all Vince needed as the boy grinned and nodded his head, coming to stand beside the older man as he put on his own green jacket, and the two of them set out into the brightening morning, breathing deeply the sharp winter air.

(boring chapter, I know, but it does serve a few purposes.

Hey, guess what, the review box is directly below this sentence. Think about that.)