Young Gregg ficcage
Title: Trouble
Word count: 600
Pairing: Implied past Howard/Old Gregg
Warnings: Nothing - clean clean fun!
Summary: Young Gregg fears he might get into trouble so Vince covers for him.
Disclaimer: The Mighty Boosh and all affiliates belong to Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding and Young Gregg belongs to the awesome ftw302
A/N: Huh wow never posted anything here before. I'm not happy with this but I'll post anyway.
Young Gregg cried. This was definitely worse than that time when he and Vince broke on of Howard’s records playing Frisbee. Stationary village was destroyed.
Gregg sat on the floor, the remains of the village strewn around him in a pencil top and paperclip carnage. His salty tears fell onto the fleeing villagers and all he could do was whimper apologetic sobs, he did care for stationary, it was one of his fathers few passions that they shared but now he feared his father wouldn’t let his little webbed fingers touch another biro. He stifled a sniff and got up, where was the dustpan and brush when you needed it?
“Hey, littl’en what’re you doing down there?” Vince shouted from upstairs, Young Gregg gasped he needed to keep this a secret.
“I’m eating solid Ribena with the page numbers from Harry Potter.”
“Gregg, I used that excuse the other day. You were the one I told it to remember, I’m coming down there.” Vince replied. Young Gregg was scared; he could hear the footsteps creaking above him.
“Seriously kid, if you need excuses I have loads of books upstairs. You could learn a few thi- oh Gregg what have you done mate?” Vince gasped, Gregg wailed.
“Aw hey, don’t cry!” Vince sighed, scooping Young Gregg up into his arms, “It’s okay yeah.”
“I - d-didn’t m-mean to, I was r-reaching to get my c-crayons and m-m-my jacket c-caught on the s-selotape tree and the whole thing f-fell d-down. D-Daddy’s going to be s-so mad!” He sniffed, snuggling into the lapel of Vince’s jacket. Vince stroked his back and smiled.
“Accidents happen yeah? I’ll just tell Howard I knocked it over, he wont be mad at you then.”
“But I don’t want you to be in trouble!” Gregg cried, trying to bury himself further, Vince shook his head and carried Gregg up to his room. “Why don’t you have a nap and sleep your upset away and I’ll make it all better? Okay?”
“But…” Gregg started; Vince just shook his head and tucked him into bed.
“Have a little sleepy, don’t worry it’ll be okay.”
“Okay, sleepy.” Young Gregg mumbled, before snuggling into bed and eventually falling asleep.
Vince sighed and looked around the room, great he’d really dropped himself in it now. He shuffled out the room and sat back down on the sofa, waiting for the inevitable as Howard would be returning from Jazzercise any minute now.
Ten minutes later
“VINCE!” Howard hollered from the bottom of the stairs, his bag discarded and replaced with a spool of tape and a stapler.
“What. Oh, uh… oh my god what happened?” Vince asked, feigning ignorance and pretending to care about the mess.
“What happened? What happened? I’ll tell you what happened. YOU happened that’s what happened.” Howard fumed, “I don’t go into your wardrobe and mess up the only organized thing you have do I?”
“Woah, Howard. I don’t know how this happened; perhaps it was a mutant pigeon with a hatred for office supplies?”
Howard sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just go and make me some tea. I’ll speak to you about this later. Wait, where’s Gregg?”
“Oh, he’s napping. I should wake him up really.” Vince smiled, darting up the stairs to the bedroom.
“Gregg, wake up.” Vince whispered, gently shaking the little boy-girl. Gregg mumbled, and rubbed his eyes.
“Wha-huh?”
“Howard’s okay with the stationary thing.”
“So you’re not in trouble?” Gregg asked, slightly relieved that he hadn’t gotten his guardian in trouble.
“Nope, I told him a pigeon did it.”
Word count: 600
Pairing: Implied past Howard/Old Gregg
Warnings: Nothing - clean clean fun!
Summary: Young Gregg fears he might get into trouble so Vince covers for him.
Disclaimer: The Mighty Boosh and all affiliates belong to Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding and Young Gregg belongs to the awesome ftw302
A/N: Huh wow never posted anything here before. I'm not happy with this but I'll post anyway.
Young Gregg cried. This was definitely worse than that time when he and Vince broke on of Howard’s records playing Frisbee. Stationary village was destroyed.
Gregg sat on the floor, the remains of the village strewn around him in a pencil top and paperclip carnage. His salty tears fell onto the fleeing villagers and all he could do was whimper apologetic sobs, he did care for stationary, it was one of his fathers few passions that they shared but now he feared his father wouldn’t let his little webbed fingers touch another biro. He stifled a sniff and got up, where was the dustpan and brush when you needed it?
“Hey, littl’en what’re you doing down there?” Vince shouted from upstairs, Young Gregg gasped he needed to keep this a secret.
“I’m eating solid Ribena with the page numbers from Harry Potter.”
“Gregg, I used that excuse the other day. You were the one I told it to remember, I’m coming down there.” Vince replied. Young Gregg was scared; he could hear the footsteps creaking above him.
“Seriously kid, if you need excuses I have loads of books upstairs. You could learn a few thi- oh Gregg what have you done mate?” Vince gasped, Gregg wailed.
“Aw hey, don’t cry!” Vince sighed, scooping Young Gregg up into his arms, “It’s okay yeah.”
“I - d-didn’t m-mean to, I was r-reaching to get my c-crayons and m-m-my jacket c-caught on the s-selotape tree and the whole thing f-fell d-down. D-Daddy’s going to be s-so mad!” He sniffed, snuggling into the lapel of Vince’s jacket. Vince stroked his back and smiled.
“Accidents happen yeah? I’ll just tell Howard I knocked it over, he wont be mad at you then.”
“But I don’t want you to be in trouble!” Gregg cried, trying to bury himself further, Vince shook his head and carried Gregg up to his room. “Why don’t you have a nap and sleep your upset away and I’ll make it all better? Okay?”
“But…” Gregg started; Vince just shook his head and tucked him into bed.
“Have a little sleepy, don’t worry it’ll be okay.”
“Okay, sleepy.” Young Gregg mumbled, before snuggling into bed and eventually falling asleep.
Vince sighed and looked around the room, great he’d really dropped himself in it now. He shuffled out the room and sat back down on the sofa, waiting for the inevitable as Howard would be returning from Jazzercise any minute now.
Ten minutes later
“VINCE!” Howard hollered from the bottom of the stairs, his bag discarded and replaced with a spool of tape and a stapler.
“What. Oh, uh… oh my god what happened?” Vince asked, feigning ignorance and pretending to care about the mess.
“What happened? What happened? I’ll tell you what happened. YOU happened that’s what happened.” Howard fumed, “I don’t go into your wardrobe and mess up the only organized thing you have do I?”
“Woah, Howard. I don’t know how this happened; perhaps it was a mutant pigeon with a hatred for office supplies?”
Howard sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just go and make me some tea. I’ll speak to you about this later. Wait, where’s Gregg?”
“Oh, he’s napping. I should wake him up really.” Vince smiled, darting up the stairs to the bedroom.
“Gregg, wake up.” Vince whispered, gently shaking the little boy-girl. Gregg mumbled, and rubbed his eyes.
“Wha-huh?”
“Howard’s okay with the stationary thing.”
“So you’re not in trouble?” Gregg asked, slightly relieved that he hadn’t gotten his guardian in trouble.
“Nope, I told him a pigeon did it.”