Fic: Flying Lessons (12/12)
Flying Lessons (12/12)
by Me, doctorpancakes
Fandoms: Boosh/Barley crossover
Pairings: Dan/Jones and Howard/Vince
Rating: PG, this chapter
Word Count: 1479, this chapter (15037 so far)
Warnings: I'm lousy at ending things
Disclaimer: I own a jar of Nutella and a pair of ramslegs. Not the shows these characters belong to.
Author's Notes: This isn't even the ending. Is it spoiling the ending to tell you this? THIS IS ACTUALLY THE SECOND-LAST CHAPTER. And no, I'm not going to change all my numbering to reflect this. Where's the fun in that?
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
And so it came to pass, much to Howard’s relief, much to Vince’s disappointment, and much to the profound confusion of both Dan and Jones, that the gift of noise functioned in much the same manner as Cinderella’s magical fancy-dress outfit, inasmuch as it expired at midnight. That is to say, it expired at 3 in the morning, as the Spirit of Noise had just got back from a wicked good Xiu Xiu show in Portland, where his girlfriend was at art school, and was still on Pacific time.
Check-out time in hotels was always unrealistically early. They may as well have not bothered attempting to sleep. Nonetheless, all members of the little household of temporary expats were awake, if not lucid, by ten, and ordered breakfast: coffee and croissant for Dan, coffee and coffee for Jones, substandard American tea and bran muffin for Howard, and Greek yogurt with honey and a banana for Vince. Whether Vince ate so many bananas because they were a rich source of potassium and other nutrients, or because he was secretly aware of the effect seeing him eat bananas had on Howard, Howard had no idea. Dan and Jones seemed not to notice, and Howard was thankful for that.
“So, gentlemen,” he said, regaining his composure, “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a six-hour lecture on the indigenous rocks and mosses of this region, and perhaps we could even get in a little field research if time permits?”
Vince looked up from his banana, peeking through his fringe at Howard.
“Oh Howard, no,” he pleaded.
“We’ve... got to be at the airport at 1,” Jones smiled sadly. Dan shuffled his feet.
“Howard, I am not spending out last day in New York City listening to you drone on about rocks,” Vince rolled his eyes.
“Drone on? How dare you, sir,” protested Howard, crossing his arms defensively.
“Umm, we should all probably, you know, check out,” interjected Dan, feebly attempting to cut through the awkwardness.
There was nothing more uncomfortable than witnessing other people bickering. Nothing, except perhaps trying to alleviate the tension in the room. Howard crossed his arms and Vince pouted, as though they had become completely unaware that their two friends were still there, as bickering couples so often do. Dan shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Jones, who was bouncing slightly from one foot to the other, brow furrowed. Finally, he leapt into action.
“Stop!” he shouted, throwing his arms into the air and jumping between the two belligerent lovers. “You two are in love with each other, yeah?”
Howard and Vince blushed in unison.
“Yeah,” they said.
“How about the art museum, then?” offered Jones. “Howard, it’s educational. Vince, it has a gift shop. I’d say that satisfies everybody?”
“Yeah,” they agreed.
“That’s better,” he beamed. “Can we all just hug now?”
Jones stuck his arms out, beckoning Howard and Vince into his embrace. “You too, Dan,” he said. Dan reluctantly shuffled into the hug. Dan did not like group hugs. They were weird. He took the opportunity, however, to smell Jones’ hair. Jones’ hair smelled like ice cream. Howard, being squeamish about touching as many as one person at a time, was the first to wriggle out of the expatriate love-in, retrieving Vince’s mobile phone from the desk. Jones followed suit shortly thereafter, returning his attentions to packing up his equipment, and Dan and Vince, after a few seconds passed and they realized that they were the only two still hugging, extricated themselves quietly, and proceeded to move to opposite ends of the room.
“Vince, I’m just ringing Naboo to let him know our travel itinerary,” said Howard, mashing his powerful Northern fingers into the tiny telephone keypad. Several rings went by, then
click
“Nabootique, how Bollo help you today?” came the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Oh, hello Bollo, it’s Howard,” said Howard.
“Harold?” he replied.
“Howard,” grumbled Howard.
“Harold and Vince not here. They dead,” said Bollo.
“What!?” squinted Howard, with a look of Icelandic incredulity. “I am Howard, Bollo. Vince and I are flying back from New York today.”
“Precious Vince not dead?” asked Bollo, a sudden timbre of hope in his voice.
“No, he’s right here,” said Howard, shaking his head. “Vince, say hello.”
Howard handed the phone to Vince, who accepted it with mild confusion.
“All right, Bollo?” he said.
“Precious Vince!” exclaimed Bollo. There was some rustling and static on the other end of the line, before Naboo came on, decidedly unhappy.
“What the hell are you doing? You can’t just take off and leave the shop unattended like that, you ball bags! I thought you were dead,” he moaned.
“Naboo, we told you we needed to book a week off to go to New York. You pencilled it in on the kitchen calendar,” explained Vince.
“Oh yeah,” laughed Naboo, remembering. “Guess I better fire your replacement then.”
“Replacement? Gave up on us a bit quickly, don’t you think?” exclaimed Vince.
“Whatever. Oi, Leroy, you’re fired! And evicted!” shouted Naboo, away from the phone. “Do you reckon Costa might hire you back?”
“It’s all right Naboo,” came Leroy’s voice from elsewhere in the room, though Vince could barely hear him, “I told Sheila I needed to take a maternity leave. I’ll just spend the rest of the year hiding out round my mum’s.”
“Nice one,” said Naboo. There was some more shuffling and static, and then he was back, at full volume. “I fired Leroy, so you’d better be back tomorrow. But if you do actually die between now and then, I will have to fire you.”
“But we’ll be dead, so...” Vince was confused.
“Yeah,” replied Naboo. “Later, Vince.”
“See you, Naboo,” said Vince as he disconnected, shaking his head.
---
The same two women as were there at check-in - one blonde, one brunette - were there at check-out, seemingly doing nothing.
The four travelers approached the counter, laden with bags (save for Dan, who had apparently only packed two outfits and a toothbrush). The two women ignored them all until about the sixth time that Howard cleared his throat, when they finally looked up from their monitors with much annoyance.
“What,” they spoke in unison.
“We’d, uhh, like to check out,” said Howard.
The women sighed, and began to type what looked to be pantomime gibberish into their computers.
“Don’t suppose you caught our set at Shit Mountain last night?” asked Vince, all smiles, sliding their stack of key cards across the counter.
The brunette rolled her eyes. “Look,” she said. “We know some people think it’s cool to be able to say - “
“ - you liked a band before they were famous?” continued the blonde. “Well, Nintendo and I, we - ”
“ - only like bands before they even exist,” the brunette concluded.
“But... what’s the point?” replied Jones.
“You guys can go now,” said the blonde, glaring at them.
“Thanks,” mumbled the four, shuffling out of the lobby.
“Whatever,” said the two women, resuming their busy nothing.
And so the four gentlemen stood outside of Hotel., while Dan and Jones awaited a taxi to take them to the airport.
“So,” Howard began.
“Yep,” said Dan.
“This was a really good week,” said Jones, with a slightly melancholy smile.
“Yes sir, it was,” agreed Howard.
“I’m going to miss you two,” said Jones.
“Uhh, Jones?” said Dan.
“Yeah, babe?” replied Jones.
“We all live in the same city,” Dan continued. “I mean, we could all go to a pub or something tomorrow. You don’t have to miss anyone.”
“I know that,” he laughed quietly, “it’s just... this was a really good week.”
Jones hugged Vince, then Howard, and climbed into the back of the waiting taxi. Dan was about to follow suit, when Vince pulled him into a warm embrace.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered into Dan’s ear, careful to make sure the others did not notice.
“I... guess?” replied Dan.
Vince grinned, biting his lower lip slightly in that way he sometimes did when he was about to do something quite cheeky, and whispered to Dan.
“Shh, secret,” Vince finished with a mischievous wink.
Dan could not help but smile. “Vince, you’re incorrigible,” he said.
“If that means proper genius, then yeah,” nodded Vince. “We’ll text you or something when we’re back in London, yeah? And thanks.”
Everyone said their awkward byes, and Vince and Howard looked on as the taxi sped off into the bustling city traffic.
“Well, I guess it’s just you and me again, Little Man,” observed Howard.
“Howard, it’s always been you and me,” observed Vince, as they ventured, arm in arm, out into the city.
Chapter Thirteen
by Me, doctorpancakes
Fandoms: Boosh/Barley crossover
Pairings: Dan/Jones and Howard/Vince
Rating: PG, this chapter
Word Count: 1479, this chapter (15037 so far)
Warnings: I'm lousy at ending things
Disclaimer: I own a jar of Nutella and a pair of ramslegs. Not the shows these characters belong to.
Author's Notes: This isn't even the ending. Is it spoiling the ending to tell you this? THIS IS ACTUALLY THE SECOND-LAST CHAPTER. And no, I'm not going to change all my numbering to reflect this. Where's the fun in that?
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
And so it came to pass, much to Howard’s relief, much to Vince’s disappointment, and much to the profound confusion of both Dan and Jones, that the gift of noise functioned in much the same manner as Cinderella’s magical fancy-dress outfit, inasmuch as it expired at midnight. That is to say, it expired at 3 in the morning, as the Spirit of Noise had just got back from a wicked good Xiu Xiu show in Portland, where his girlfriend was at art school, and was still on Pacific time.
Check-out time in hotels was always unrealistically early. They may as well have not bothered attempting to sleep. Nonetheless, all members of the little household of temporary expats were awake, if not lucid, by ten, and ordered breakfast: coffee and croissant for Dan, coffee and coffee for Jones, substandard American tea and bran muffin for Howard, and Greek yogurt with honey and a banana for Vince. Whether Vince ate so many bananas because they were a rich source of potassium and other nutrients, or because he was secretly aware of the effect seeing him eat bananas had on Howard, Howard had no idea. Dan and Jones seemed not to notice, and Howard was thankful for that.
“So, gentlemen,” he said, regaining his composure, “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a six-hour lecture on the indigenous rocks and mosses of this region, and perhaps we could even get in a little field research if time permits?”
Vince looked up from his banana, peeking through his fringe at Howard.
“Oh Howard, no,” he pleaded.
“We’ve... got to be at the airport at 1,” Jones smiled sadly. Dan shuffled his feet.
“Howard, I am not spending out last day in New York City listening to you drone on about rocks,” Vince rolled his eyes.
“Drone on? How dare you, sir,” protested Howard, crossing his arms defensively.
“Umm, we should all probably, you know, check out,” interjected Dan, feebly attempting to cut through the awkwardness.
There was nothing more uncomfortable than witnessing other people bickering. Nothing, except perhaps trying to alleviate the tension in the room. Howard crossed his arms and Vince pouted, as though they had become completely unaware that their two friends were still there, as bickering couples so often do. Dan shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Jones, who was bouncing slightly from one foot to the other, brow furrowed. Finally, he leapt into action.
“Stop!” he shouted, throwing his arms into the air and jumping between the two belligerent lovers. “You two are in love with each other, yeah?”
Howard and Vince blushed in unison.
“Yeah,” they said.
“How about the art museum, then?” offered Jones. “Howard, it’s educational. Vince, it has a gift shop. I’d say that satisfies everybody?”
“Yeah,” they agreed.
“That’s better,” he beamed. “Can we all just hug now?”
Jones stuck his arms out, beckoning Howard and Vince into his embrace. “You too, Dan,” he said. Dan reluctantly shuffled into the hug. Dan did not like group hugs. They were weird. He took the opportunity, however, to smell Jones’ hair. Jones’ hair smelled like ice cream. Howard, being squeamish about touching as many as one person at a time, was the first to wriggle out of the expatriate love-in, retrieving Vince’s mobile phone from the desk. Jones followed suit shortly thereafter, returning his attentions to packing up his equipment, and Dan and Vince, after a few seconds passed and they realized that they were the only two still hugging, extricated themselves quietly, and proceeded to move to opposite ends of the room.
“Vince, I’m just ringing Naboo to let him know our travel itinerary,” said Howard, mashing his powerful Northern fingers into the tiny telephone keypad. Several rings went by, then
click
“Nabootique, how Bollo help you today?” came the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Oh, hello Bollo, it’s Howard,” said Howard.
“Harold?” he replied.
“Howard,” grumbled Howard.
“Harold and Vince not here. They dead,” said Bollo.
“What!?” squinted Howard, with a look of Icelandic incredulity. “I am Howard, Bollo. Vince and I are flying back from New York today.”
“Precious Vince not dead?” asked Bollo, a sudden timbre of hope in his voice.
“No, he’s right here,” said Howard, shaking his head. “Vince, say hello.”
Howard handed the phone to Vince, who accepted it with mild confusion.
“All right, Bollo?” he said.
“Precious Vince!” exclaimed Bollo. There was some rustling and static on the other end of the line, before Naboo came on, decidedly unhappy.
“What the hell are you doing? You can’t just take off and leave the shop unattended like that, you ball bags! I thought you were dead,” he moaned.
“Naboo, we told you we needed to book a week off to go to New York. You pencilled it in on the kitchen calendar,” explained Vince.
“Oh yeah,” laughed Naboo, remembering. “Guess I better fire your replacement then.”
“Replacement? Gave up on us a bit quickly, don’t you think?” exclaimed Vince.
“Whatever. Oi, Leroy, you’re fired! And evicted!” shouted Naboo, away from the phone. “Do you reckon Costa might hire you back?”
“It’s all right Naboo,” came Leroy’s voice from elsewhere in the room, though Vince could barely hear him, “I told Sheila I needed to take a maternity leave. I’ll just spend the rest of the year hiding out round my mum’s.”
“Nice one,” said Naboo. There was some more shuffling and static, and then he was back, at full volume. “I fired Leroy, so you’d better be back tomorrow. But if you do actually die between now and then, I will have to fire you.”
“But we’ll be dead, so...” Vince was confused.
“Yeah,” replied Naboo. “Later, Vince.”
“See you, Naboo,” said Vince as he disconnected, shaking his head.
---
The same two women as were there at check-in - one blonde, one brunette - were there at check-out, seemingly doing nothing.
The four travelers approached the counter, laden with bags (save for Dan, who had apparently only packed two outfits and a toothbrush). The two women ignored them all until about the sixth time that Howard cleared his throat, when they finally looked up from their monitors with much annoyance.
“What,” they spoke in unison.
“We’d, uhh, like to check out,” said Howard.
The women sighed, and began to type what looked to be pantomime gibberish into their computers.
“Don’t suppose you caught our set at Shit Mountain last night?” asked Vince, all smiles, sliding their stack of key cards across the counter.
The brunette rolled her eyes. “Look,” she said. “We know some people think it’s cool to be able to say - “
“ - you liked a band before they were famous?” continued the blonde. “Well, Nintendo and I, we - ”
“ - only like bands before they even exist,” the brunette concluded.
“But... what’s the point?” replied Jones.
“You guys can go now,” said the blonde, glaring at them.
“Thanks,” mumbled the four, shuffling out of the lobby.
“Whatever,” said the two women, resuming their busy nothing.
And so the four gentlemen stood outside of Hotel., while Dan and Jones awaited a taxi to take them to the airport.
“So,” Howard began.
“Yep,” said Dan.
“This was a really good week,” said Jones, with a slightly melancholy smile.
“Yes sir, it was,” agreed Howard.
“I’m going to miss you two,” said Jones.
“Uhh, Jones?” said Dan.
“Yeah, babe?” replied Jones.
“We all live in the same city,” Dan continued. “I mean, we could all go to a pub or something tomorrow. You don’t have to miss anyone.”
“I know that,” he laughed quietly, “it’s just... this was a really good week.”
Jones hugged Vince, then Howard, and climbed into the back of the waiting taxi. Dan was about to follow suit, when Vince pulled him into a warm embrace.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered into Dan’s ear, careful to make sure the others did not notice.
“I... guess?” replied Dan.
Vince grinned, biting his lower lip slightly in that way he sometimes did when he was about to do something quite cheeky, and whispered to Dan.
“Shh, secret,” Vince finished with a mischievous wink.
Dan could not help but smile. “Vince, you’re incorrigible,” he said.
“If that means proper genius, then yeah,” nodded Vince. “We’ll text you or something when we’re back in London, yeah? And thanks.”
Everyone said their awkward byes, and Vince and Howard looked on as the taxi sped off into the bustling city traffic.
“Well, I guess it’s just you and me again, Little Man,” observed Howard.
“Howard, it’s always been you and me,” observed Vince, as they ventured, arm in arm, out into the city.
Chapter Thirteen