Faithful Chapter 1
Vince felt like a god, propped up on his pillows with a nearly-naked Howard standing before him in chains. With the snap of his fingers, he could have anything he wanted.
Well, not anything. They didn’t have very good food on Xooberon. Or very good music. Or very good paintings. In fact, Xooberon was pretty rubbish, for a planet that had come up with Naboo. Naboo was genius.
Despite the desolate landscape and awful tunes, Xooberon was a planet where Vince was recognized for the star he’d always been. On Earth, he’d been waiting years for the people around him to wake up and notice he was a VIP. On Xooberon, he was immediately identified as the Chosen One and given his due. Only Howard resisted the power of Vince’s hand-sewn outfit and Root Boosted hair, and that was just because he was being a dick.
It hadn’t been Vince’s idea to put Howard in a loincloth and chains; the little blue guy had done that on his own. Vince was getting the feeling the little blue man was a bit pervy.
If it were up to Vince, he’d have put Howard in a nice shift-type gown. He’d looked good in a simple white robe while they were getting ready to be gangbanged by horny Yetis. Howard tended towards busy patterns, thinking they would add character to his ordinary face, but he needed to go the opposite route. He needed clothes that didn’t overshadow his features. A simple white robe, a pair of utility swim trunks: those were looks that made Howard noticeable.
He was pretty noticeable in the loincloth, but it was making Vince a bit uncomfortable. It was hard to keep in the Bowie-meets-Caligula character he was going for when Howard looked ready to film an eighties porn. Everything Vince said came out sounding more sexual than he’d intended. Even the bit with the ostrich feather was coming off differently from how he’d imagined it. Maybe it was because he could never really be threatening with Howard. Maybe it was because he kept looking at Howard’s legs.
Whatever was going on, Vince was grateful when Naboo appeared out of nowhere and said, “Let’s go, you great ballbags. I’m sick of changing nappies.”
Xxx
Naboo was feeling chuffed with himself as he entered his Dalston home with his two fully grown (able to wipe their own arses) flatmates. He’d been a bit muddled about how to deal with babies Vince and Howard, but then he’d remembered the time traveling amulet he’d won from Dennis in a game of bong pong. He’d gone back in time to before Vince and Howard had chugged the Fountain of Youth Juice like it was a lager - apparently to a time when they were shooting a porn - and brought them to the present. What could be easier? A pencil-pushing prude like Saboo would never come up with such a clever solution. He’d have wasted all his time worrying about the integrity of the space time continuum while Naboo was taking care of business.
Naboo called out to Bollo to put a kettle on as they walked through the door.
Then he heard a baby cry.
“Uh-oh,” Naboo said quietly to himself.
“What’s wrong?” Howard asked, apparently trying to adjust his loincloth into a more conservative position. It was a hopeless task. Vince and Howard were some dirty freaks, but Naboo did not judge human sexuality - no matter how stomach-turning it could be.
“I always forget,” Naboo admitted. “Is Earth time linear or non-linear?”
“What’s that even mean?” Vince asked. “And why is there a baby in the flat?”
“Does time always go forward on Earth, or can you exist in multiple points of time?” Naboo asked, wishing he’d paid closer attention in his Earth studies courses. Much of the information he’d managed to retain about Earth - like the invention of the Spinning Jenny and the mass of the Higgs-Boson Particle - had turned out to be useless when he’d actually moved to the planet, but he could have used more of an understanding of the basics. He was still a little shaky on how gravity worked, and apparently he hadn’t fully grasped the structure of time.
“Of course time is linear,” Howard snapped. “All time is linear.”
Bollo poked his head out of the kitchen, a bottle in one hand and Baby Howard in the other. He looked at Naboo and the adult humans and said, “I got a bad feeling about this.”
Xxx
Baby Vince was a treat. He was a happy baby who loved shiny things, music, and cuddles. Vince had no desire to get rid of his tinier self.
“Why does he have a mustache?” Howard asked as he tried to calm his baby self. “I didn’t have a mustache as a baby.”
“You couldn’t grow a mustache until you were twenty-five,” Vince reminded him. “And even that wasn’t as full and bushy as that baby’s.”
“I was twenty-three, and that’s not the point now, is it, sir? The point is, this baby has a mustache.”
“The Fountain of Youth regenerates your cells. You stay the same as you are, you just get younger,” Naboo explained. “If I gave a swig to Madonna, she wouldn’t end up wearing lace gloves. She’d still have greasy-looking hair and be using a fake English accent.”
Vince looked at his own baby self. Instead of the straw blond hair of his childhood, Baby Vince’s hair was black and styled into a mullet. He was a definite improvement over the real baby Vince, who had been nothing to write home about.
“Don’t feed Baby Vince candy!” Howard snapped, causing Vince to give a startled jump. He pulled the strawberry bootlace away from the baby, who began to cry. Vince quickly distracted him with one of Naboo’s shiniest bongs.
“Do I really have to tell you not to give the baby a bong?” Howard sighed. “This Vince is going to turn out even worse than you, and that’s saying something.”
Vince frowned and looked at his tiny self. He’d rather assumed baby Vince would turn out exactly like grown-up Vince. He’d also rather assumed his parents had given him candy to eat and shiny things to play with when he was an infant.
“Is that true, Naboo?” Vince asked. “Will these babies turn out differently because they’re being raised differently? Won’t they just be like us?”
Naboo stroked his chin thoughtfully and explained that the babies had the structural brain changes that had occurred to Vince and Howard's brains as a product of their lives, but on the other hand, “Who the fuck knows? No one has ever been dumb enough to overdose from the fountain before.”
“Isn’t there someone you can ask? Someone who isn’t so…” Howard trailed off, clearly realizing there was no polite ending to that line of thought.
“We’re having an emergency meeting of the council tonight. The two - well the four of you… Or is it two, really, since you’re doubles?”
Vince sensed that Naboo was getting trapped in a logistical loop and helped him out.
“You want us there with the babies,” he offered, already itching to hit the sewing machine to make new and matching outfits.
“Yes. Tonight at 8 sharp,” Naboo announced solemnly.
“Don’t kill babies in meantime,” Bollo added, shooting them both stern looks.
Vince noticed Howard holding baby Howard protectively to his chest and smiled. Howard would make a good dad, as long as he had the right mum to help him out. Vince shuddered to think of the dull, practical, and jazz-filled life of a baby raised entirely by Howard.
Xxx
Howard was pleased when he realized that Baby Howard was instantly soothed by the smooth sounds of Weather Report. Unfortunately, in true baby fashion, he insisted on hearing the same song over and over again. Howard had never thought he would grow tired of hearing “Birdland,” but the moment “A Remark You Made” began to play, baby Howard went from smiling and happy to tears of anger and betrayal. He wouldn’t allow any versions other than the original album, no matter how amazing the solos were in the live recording. The only substitute for the album that was allowed was humming. Fortunately, the entire house was constantly humming the tune anyway, as they had been hearing it for four hours straight. Even Vince hummed along as he worked at his sewing machine. He’d already created his own version of a Baby Bjorn for the Howards. It was made of a sturdy, wide-gauge corduroy and had pockets for a bottle, a rubber comforter, and an mp3 player with self-amplified speakers, so “Birdland” never had to stop. Ever.
For the Vinces, Vince was making some type of complicated dress out of metallic blue material. He’d already made Baby Vince a little sack type outfit to match, and the baby cheerfully stared at the ever-changing color of the material as Vince worked. They were both blissfully happy until Baby Vince squeezed up his face and the room was suddenly filled with a horrid stench. Both Vinces looked ready to cry, so Howard jumped in. He kept Baby Howard in the carrier strapped to his chest and scooped up Baby Vince. As soon as they were in reach of each other, the two babies started touching each other’s faces and hair. Baby Howard seemed unconcerned by the stench coming from Baby Vince’s diaper; he was just happy to see his playmate. If ever a love were unconditional, it was the love of a baby, because Howard’s eyes were watering.
Baby Vince kicked his feet and laughed as the music played. It did not elude Howard that Baby Vince should have hated jazz, but he clearly did not. Perhaps the time spent with Howard had done Vince some good, or perhaps Baby Vince simply didn’t have “adult” (applying the term very loosely) Vince’s fear of the complicated. Dropped into a disaster, Vince could handle just about anything, but he had a panic attack at the sight of a Sudoku puzzle. Sometimes Howard wondered if Vince focused so much on the outside of his head because he had so little faith in what was inside it.
Watching the babies interact, Howard couldn’t help but smile. Their love for one another was sweet and uncomplicated. Occasionally, Baby Howard pulled Baby Vince’s hair, or Baby Vince tugged too hard at Baby Howard’s mustache, but they always made it up quickly. They had the comfort of a long-standing friendship without any of the complications. Even cleaning Baby Vince’s vile-smelling nappy (Vince seemed to have his younger self on a diet of raw onions and petrol), Howard felt warm and fuzzy towards his friend. Vince had been such a child when he and Howard had met. He’d loved chewing gum and MTV, and he’d broken out in hives if anyone mentioned politics.
Some things never changed.
Baby Vince reminded Howard of that long ago and simpler time, when Vince had been his protégé and everything had been easy. It was a Vince who had never undermined or mocked Howard, a Vince who had never been on the receiving end of Howard’s brittle ego and temper.
A Vince who hadn’t held Howard the day they’d quit the Zooniverse to follow their dream of having a mildly successful local band. He hadn’t wrapped his arms around Howard’s waist and held him tight before looking up with tears in his eyes and promising never to leave.
Howard remembered how Vince had felt that day, a mixture of bony and soft. He’d been so sweet and clingy, it had seemed natural for Howard to close his eyes and tilt his head. He’d felt Vince’s breath on his lips… and then nothing. Vince had walked away and they’d never spoken of it again. Howard had tried to hide his embarrassment and hurt, but things were never the same. He’d made a leap and it could not be undone.
Howard picked up Baby Vince and kissed his chubby cheek while Baby Howard howled with inexplicable laughter. He held Baby Vince close to Baby Howard, so they could play their beloved game of trying to touch each other’s eyeballs. He’d asked Vince to whip up a double baby carrier so he have them both strapped to his chest at once, but Vince had been worried that Howard would be too top heavy for his skinny legs. Although he was not ready to ‘topple over like a baby giraffe on a freshly waxed floor,’ he was aware of the change in his center of gravity when he held both babies.
Vince was waiting right outside the door, eager to take back his tiny doppelganger.
“Cheers, Howard,” he said, pressing his nose to Baby Vince’s hair. “How can babies smell so good and produce something so foul? Reminds me of the Crack Fox.” Vince looked sternly at Baby Vince. “Have you been eating shampoo?”
Baby Vince giggled as he tried to shove his entire hand in Vince’s mouth. Howard watched fondly, stroking Baby Howard’s hair. It was nice having the babies.
An ear-piercing scream shattered the tender atmosphere. Howard desperately grabbed for the mp3 player. He’d let the battery run out.
Vince began humming “Birdland” with no sign of distress or fear, until Baby Howard calmed down.
It was nice having babies in the flat, even if it was just for a little while.
Well, not anything. They didn’t have very good food on Xooberon. Or very good music. Or very good paintings. In fact, Xooberon was pretty rubbish, for a planet that had come up with Naboo. Naboo was genius.
Despite the desolate landscape and awful tunes, Xooberon was a planet where Vince was recognized for the star he’d always been. On Earth, he’d been waiting years for the people around him to wake up and notice he was a VIP. On Xooberon, he was immediately identified as the Chosen One and given his due. Only Howard resisted the power of Vince’s hand-sewn outfit and Root Boosted hair, and that was just because he was being a dick.
It hadn’t been Vince’s idea to put Howard in a loincloth and chains; the little blue guy had done that on his own. Vince was getting the feeling the little blue man was a bit pervy.
If it were up to Vince, he’d have put Howard in a nice shift-type gown. He’d looked good in a simple white robe while they were getting ready to be gangbanged by horny Yetis. Howard tended towards busy patterns, thinking they would add character to his ordinary face, but he needed to go the opposite route. He needed clothes that didn’t overshadow his features. A simple white robe, a pair of utility swim trunks: those were looks that made Howard noticeable.
He was pretty noticeable in the loincloth, but it was making Vince a bit uncomfortable. It was hard to keep in the Bowie-meets-Caligula character he was going for when Howard looked ready to film an eighties porn. Everything Vince said came out sounding more sexual than he’d intended. Even the bit with the ostrich feather was coming off differently from how he’d imagined it. Maybe it was because he could never really be threatening with Howard. Maybe it was because he kept looking at Howard’s legs.
Whatever was going on, Vince was grateful when Naboo appeared out of nowhere and said, “Let’s go, you great ballbags. I’m sick of changing nappies.”
Xxx
Naboo was feeling chuffed with himself as he entered his Dalston home with his two fully grown (able to wipe their own arses) flatmates. He’d been a bit muddled about how to deal with babies Vince and Howard, but then he’d remembered the time traveling amulet he’d won from Dennis in a game of bong pong. He’d gone back in time to before Vince and Howard had chugged the Fountain of Youth Juice like it was a lager - apparently to a time when they were shooting a porn - and brought them to the present. What could be easier? A pencil-pushing prude like Saboo would never come up with such a clever solution. He’d have wasted all his time worrying about the integrity of the space time continuum while Naboo was taking care of business.
Naboo called out to Bollo to put a kettle on as they walked through the door.
Then he heard a baby cry.
“Uh-oh,” Naboo said quietly to himself.
“What’s wrong?” Howard asked, apparently trying to adjust his loincloth into a more conservative position. It was a hopeless task. Vince and Howard were some dirty freaks, but Naboo did not judge human sexuality - no matter how stomach-turning it could be.
“I always forget,” Naboo admitted. “Is Earth time linear or non-linear?”
“What’s that even mean?” Vince asked. “And why is there a baby in the flat?”
“Does time always go forward on Earth, or can you exist in multiple points of time?” Naboo asked, wishing he’d paid closer attention in his Earth studies courses. Much of the information he’d managed to retain about Earth - like the invention of the Spinning Jenny and the mass of the Higgs-Boson Particle - had turned out to be useless when he’d actually moved to the planet, but he could have used more of an understanding of the basics. He was still a little shaky on how gravity worked, and apparently he hadn’t fully grasped the structure of time.
“Of course time is linear,” Howard snapped. “All time is linear.”
Bollo poked his head out of the kitchen, a bottle in one hand and Baby Howard in the other. He looked at Naboo and the adult humans and said, “I got a bad feeling about this.”
Xxx
Baby Vince was a treat. He was a happy baby who loved shiny things, music, and cuddles. Vince had no desire to get rid of his tinier self.
“Why does he have a mustache?” Howard asked as he tried to calm his baby self. “I didn’t have a mustache as a baby.”
“You couldn’t grow a mustache until you were twenty-five,” Vince reminded him. “And even that wasn’t as full and bushy as that baby’s.”
“I was twenty-three, and that’s not the point now, is it, sir? The point is, this baby has a mustache.”
“The Fountain of Youth regenerates your cells. You stay the same as you are, you just get younger,” Naboo explained. “If I gave a swig to Madonna, she wouldn’t end up wearing lace gloves. She’d still have greasy-looking hair and be using a fake English accent.”
Vince looked at his own baby self. Instead of the straw blond hair of his childhood, Baby Vince’s hair was black and styled into a mullet. He was a definite improvement over the real baby Vince, who had been nothing to write home about.
“Don’t feed Baby Vince candy!” Howard snapped, causing Vince to give a startled jump. He pulled the strawberry bootlace away from the baby, who began to cry. Vince quickly distracted him with one of Naboo’s shiniest bongs.
“Do I really have to tell you not to give the baby a bong?” Howard sighed. “This Vince is going to turn out even worse than you, and that’s saying something.”
Vince frowned and looked at his tiny self. He’d rather assumed baby Vince would turn out exactly like grown-up Vince. He’d also rather assumed his parents had given him candy to eat and shiny things to play with when he was an infant.
“Is that true, Naboo?” Vince asked. “Will these babies turn out differently because they’re being raised differently? Won’t they just be like us?”
Naboo stroked his chin thoughtfully and explained that the babies had the structural brain changes that had occurred to Vince and Howard's brains as a product of their lives, but on the other hand, “Who the fuck knows? No one has ever been dumb enough to overdose from the fountain before.”
“Isn’t there someone you can ask? Someone who isn’t so…” Howard trailed off, clearly realizing there was no polite ending to that line of thought.
“We’re having an emergency meeting of the council tonight. The two - well the four of you… Or is it two, really, since you’re doubles?”
Vince sensed that Naboo was getting trapped in a logistical loop and helped him out.
“You want us there with the babies,” he offered, already itching to hit the sewing machine to make new and matching outfits.
“Yes. Tonight at 8 sharp,” Naboo announced solemnly.
“Don’t kill babies in meantime,” Bollo added, shooting them both stern looks.
Vince noticed Howard holding baby Howard protectively to his chest and smiled. Howard would make a good dad, as long as he had the right mum to help him out. Vince shuddered to think of the dull, practical, and jazz-filled life of a baby raised entirely by Howard.
Xxx
Howard was pleased when he realized that Baby Howard was instantly soothed by the smooth sounds of Weather Report. Unfortunately, in true baby fashion, he insisted on hearing the same song over and over again. Howard had never thought he would grow tired of hearing “Birdland,” but the moment “A Remark You Made” began to play, baby Howard went from smiling and happy to tears of anger and betrayal. He wouldn’t allow any versions other than the original album, no matter how amazing the solos were in the live recording. The only substitute for the album that was allowed was humming. Fortunately, the entire house was constantly humming the tune anyway, as they had been hearing it for four hours straight. Even Vince hummed along as he worked at his sewing machine. He’d already created his own version of a Baby Bjorn for the Howards. It was made of a sturdy, wide-gauge corduroy and had pockets for a bottle, a rubber comforter, and an mp3 player with self-amplified speakers, so “Birdland” never had to stop. Ever.
For the Vinces, Vince was making some type of complicated dress out of metallic blue material. He’d already made Baby Vince a little sack type outfit to match, and the baby cheerfully stared at the ever-changing color of the material as Vince worked. They were both blissfully happy until Baby Vince squeezed up his face and the room was suddenly filled with a horrid stench. Both Vinces looked ready to cry, so Howard jumped in. He kept Baby Howard in the carrier strapped to his chest and scooped up Baby Vince. As soon as they were in reach of each other, the two babies started touching each other’s faces and hair. Baby Howard seemed unconcerned by the stench coming from Baby Vince’s diaper; he was just happy to see his playmate. If ever a love were unconditional, it was the love of a baby, because Howard’s eyes were watering.
Baby Vince kicked his feet and laughed as the music played. It did not elude Howard that Baby Vince should have hated jazz, but he clearly did not. Perhaps the time spent with Howard had done Vince some good, or perhaps Baby Vince simply didn’t have “adult” (applying the term very loosely) Vince’s fear of the complicated. Dropped into a disaster, Vince could handle just about anything, but he had a panic attack at the sight of a Sudoku puzzle. Sometimes Howard wondered if Vince focused so much on the outside of his head because he had so little faith in what was inside it.
Watching the babies interact, Howard couldn’t help but smile. Their love for one another was sweet and uncomplicated. Occasionally, Baby Howard pulled Baby Vince’s hair, or Baby Vince tugged too hard at Baby Howard’s mustache, but they always made it up quickly. They had the comfort of a long-standing friendship without any of the complications. Even cleaning Baby Vince’s vile-smelling nappy (Vince seemed to have his younger self on a diet of raw onions and petrol), Howard felt warm and fuzzy towards his friend. Vince had been such a child when he and Howard had met. He’d loved chewing gum and MTV, and he’d broken out in hives if anyone mentioned politics.
Some things never changed.
Baby Vince reminded Howard of that long ago and simpler time, when Vince had been his protégé and everything had been easy. It was a Vince who had never undermined or mocked Howard, a Vince who had never been on the receiving end of Howard’s brittle ego and temper.
A Vince who hadn’t held Howard the day they’d quit the Zooniverse to follow their dream of having a mildly successful local band. He hadn’t wrapped his arms around Howard’s waist and held him tight before looking up with tears in his eyes and promising never to leave.
Howard remembered how Vince had felt that day, a mixture of bony and soft. He’d been so sweet and clingy, it had seemed natural for Howard to close his eyes and tilt his head. He’d felt Vince’s breath on his lips… and then nothing. Vince had walked away and they’d never spoken of it again. Howard had tried to hide his embarrassment and hurt, but things were never the same. He’d made a leap and it could not be undone.
Howard picked up Baby Vince and kissed his chubby cheek while Baby Howard howled with inexplicable laughter. He held Baby Vince close to Baby Howard, so they could play their beloved game of trying to touch each other’s eyeballs. He’d asked Vince to whip up a double baby carrier so he have them both strapped to his chest at once, but Vince had been worried that Howard would be too top heavy for his skinny legs. Although he was not ready to ‘topple over like a baby giraffe on a freshly waxed floor,’ he was aware of the change in his center of gravity when he held both babies.
Vince was waiting right outside the door, eager to take back his tiny doppelganger.
“Cheers, Howard,” he said, pressing his nose to Baby Vince’s hair. “How can babies smell so good and produce something so foul? Reminds me of the Crack Fox.” Vince looked sternly at Baby Vince. “Have you been eating shampoo?”
Baby Vince giggled as he tried to shove his entire hand in Vince’s mouth. Howard watched fondly, stroking Baby Howard’s hair. It was nice having the babies.
An ear-piercing scream shattered the tender atmosphere. Howard desperately grabbed for the mp3 player. He’d let the battery run out.
Vince began humming “Birdland” with no sign of distress or fear, until Baby Howard calmed down.
It was nice having babies in the flat, even if it was just for a little while.