There's Just Something About You
[One Year Later...]One Year Later.
When Howard woke up that morning the light was leaking through the curtains, casting elaborate patterns on the bedroom floor. The duvet around him was soft and warm, and there was an arm slung unceremoniously around his middle. Howard sighed, closed his eyes again and buried his head further into the pillow as Vince hummed contentedly and shifted his weight to the other end of the bed.
“Howard?” he murmured, voice thickened with sleep. “Howard? Howard? Hey, Howard. Howard. Howard!”
“This better be good.”
“Happy Christmas.”
“You too, Little Man.”
For a moment, all was still and warm and hazy around the edges. Then Howard heaved a sigh and threw the covers off. “Cup of tea?”
“Yeah…” Vince’s eyes were still shut. “That’d be genius.”
Howard pulled on his dressing gown and wandered into the kitchen to put the kettle on. The flat was completely silent, and he whistled a tune to himself as he sorted out the sugar and teabags. It was only when he reached the song’s chorus that he realised that tune he’d chosen was My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean, and the realisation sent a rapid shiver through his bones. Even after all this time, the strands of his other lives that sometimes crept in managed to shock him. “Side effects,” Naboo had called them. “That’s the trouble with this difficult spells. They leave marks.”
As the kettle began whistling, Howard leant against the counter and drummed his fingers rhythmically against the top. Most of the time, he was able to push his afterlife into the back of his mind - he’d had to, especially in the first weeks of his resurrection, in order to help Vince. He didn’t have time to worry about himself when Vince woke in the early hours of the morning, white as snow from devastating nightmares, or when he could barely let Howard out of his sight for a minute for fear that he would vanish again. Howard had dealt with his problems in his own way, namely by pushing them away and refusing to acknowledge them as anything more than one of his and Vince’s usual scrapes. But, inevitably, the false memories would occasionally sneak up on him when he was least expecting them, and it always unnerved him.
He shook the feeling away, and poured out the two mugs of tea, then set them on a tray. When he shuffled back into the bedroom, Vince was sitting up, propped up against the mountain of neon pillows he slept on and rubbing the sleep dust away from his eyes with the heel of his palm.
“Cheers, Howard,” he said, gratefully accepting the mug of tea.
“Sleep well?”
“Yeah. C’mere…”
Howard bent down and Vince looped an arm around his neck, drawing him into a lazy kiss. Howard eagerly responded. He’d dreamed of this, once, though always with people who were nameless and faceless. As it turned out, the real thing was infinitely better.
Vince wound a finger in Howard’s hair and sighed against his mouth. “Alright?”
“Fantastic. I’ll bring you tea in bed more often if this is how you react.”
Vince laughed. “It’s Christmas. I’m feeling generous.”
“It’ll be the usual resentment and bitterness for the rest of the year, then?”
“Pretty much.”
“Right. Better make the most of it while I can, in that case.”
He kissed Vince again, and he felt himself softening in his partner’s arms. Last Christmas, Vince hadn’t had the energy to do anything except sit in his pyjamas and watch A Colobos Christmas Carol on ITV4. This was most definitely an improvement.
“We should’ve done this ages ago,” Vince mumbled against Howard’s jaw. “This is brilliant. Think of all the Christmases we missed.”
“We’ve got plenty of time to make up for it, sir.”
“S’pose so.” Vince slid his hand underneath Howard’s collar and rubbed at his shoulders. “Even if it did take you dying and me questing throughout time and space for us to reach this point.”
“Well, nobody can say we’re not original.”
“Howard?” Vince bit the corner of his lip. “D’you remember all the Christmases when you were…y’know.”
“Er…” Howard thought for a moment. Hadn’t Jeremy once got him bladdered on Harvey Wallbangers at the staff Christmas party one year? Hadn’t Lana once bought him a moustache-patterned pencil case and then died of laughter when he’d unwrapped it. “Bits and pieces. It’s all a bit vague, really. Why?”
“No reason. S’just…sometimes I think about you, stuck in there on your own.”
“They weren’t real though,” Howard said quietly. “Like Naboo said, they’re false memories. They never really happened, yeah?”
“I know. I know. I just wish I could’ve been there.”
Howard sighed and took Vince’s hand. “Me too. And I wish you hadn’t gone through it for my sake. No one else would, you know. Not a boring old git like me.”
“I’d do it again.”
“Please don’t.”
Vince laughed, and his teeth were showing and his eyes glistened and he was incandescent.
“But we’ve got today, and next year, and the year after that,” Howard said. “That’s what matters, yeah?”
“Yeah. That and Jean-Claude Jacquettis new hairdryer.”
“You bloody peacock!” Howard grinned. “I’m pouring my heart out and all you can think about are your hair accessories.”
“I’m a bit of a simple man.” Vince said. “But I love you.”
“I love you too.”
And then Howard kissed Vince again, and somewhere in the very depths of his subconscious, the white corridor finally crumbled away.
The End.
***
Credits: This fic was inspired largely by the song 'Snowed In At Wheeler Street' by Kate Bush, as well elements of Kate's Atkinson's 'Life After Life' and a few bits and pieces of Doctor Who (what can I say?) Thanks to Noel and Julian for letting me (ok not really but they're not suing so hey) play around with their characters. Huge thanks to ideserveyou and the rest of the WriSoMiFu community for actually forcing me to write this down. Thanks to Veronika and Rosie for creating beautiful art to accompany this piece. Massive thanks to Cai for reading this fic in its infancy and telling me that it was ok, as well as to Bluey, Emmelie, Connie, Castie, and the rest of the BFC for support and encouragement. And finally, thanks to everyone who read, reviews, reblogged and recommended this fic. I know who you are, you know who you are, and I'll be messaging each and every one of you in due course. Without you I'd have given up, and I love you all. Happy Christmas!
When Howard woke up that morning the light was leaking through the curtains, casting elaborate patterns on the bedroom floor. The duvet around him was soft and warm, and there was an arm slung unceremoniously around his middle. Howard sighed, closed his eyes again and buried his head further into the pillow as Vince hummed contentedly and shifted his weight to the other end of the bed.
“Howard?” he murmured, voice thickened with sleep. “Howard? Howard? Hey, Howard. Howard. Howard!”
“This better be good.”
“Happy Christmas.”
“You too, Little Man.”
For a moment, all was still and warm and hazy around the edges. Then Howard heaved a sigh and threw the covers off. “Cup of tea?”
“Yeah…” Vince’s eyes were still shut. “That’d be genius.”
Howard pulled on his dressing gown and wandered into the kitchen to put the kettle on. The flat was completely silent, and he whistled a tune to himself as he sorted out the sugar and teabags. It was only when he reached the song’s chorus that he realised that tune he’d chosen was My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean, and the realisation sent a rapid shiver through his bones. Even after all this time, the strands of his other lives that sometimes crept in managed to shock him. “Side effects,” Naboo had called them. “That’s the trouble with this difficult spells. They leave marks.”
As the kettle began whistling, Howard leant against the counter and drummed his fingers rhythmically against the top. Most of the time, he was able to push his afterlife into the back of his mind - he’d had to, especially in the first weeks of his resurrection, in order to help Vince. He didn’t have time to worry about himself when Vince woke in the early hours of the morning, white as snow from devastating nightmares, or when he could barely let Howard out of his sight for a minute for fear that he would vanish again. Howard had dealt with his problems in his own way, namely by pushing them away and refusing to acknowledge them as anything more than one of his and Vince’s usual scrapes. But, inevitably, the false memories would occasionally sneak up on him when he was least expecting them, and it always unnerved him.
He shook the feeling away, and poured out the two mugs of tea, then set them on a tray. When he shuffled back into the bedroom, Vince was sitting up, propped up against the mountain of neon pillows he slept on and rubbing the sleep dust away from his eyes with the heel of his palm.
“Cheers, Howard,” he said, gratefully accepting the mug of tea.
“Sleep well?”
“Yeah. C’mere…”
Howard bent down and Vince looped an arm around his neck, drawing him into a lazy kiss. Howard eagerly responded. He’d dreamed of this, once, though always with people who were nameless and faceless. As it turned out, the real thing was infinitely better.
Vince wound a finger in Howard’s hair and sighed against his mouth. “Alright?”
“Fantastic. I’ll bring you tea in bed more often if this is how you react.”
Vince laughed. “It’s Christmas. I’m feeling generous.”
“It’ll be the usual resentment and bitterness for the rest of the year, then?”
“Pretty much.”
“Right. Better make the most of it while I can, in that case.”
He kissed Vince again, and he felt himself softening in his partner’s arms. Last Christmas, Vince hadn’t had the energy to do anything except sit in his pyjamas and watch A Colobos Christmas Carol on ITV4. This was most definitely an improvement.
“We should’ve done this ages ago,” Vince mumbled against Howard’s jaw. “This is brilliant. Think of all the Christmases we missed.”
“We’ve got plenty of time to make up for it, sir.”
“S’pose so.” Vince slid his hand underneath Howard’s collar and rubbed at his shoulders. “Even if it did take you dying and me questing throughout time and space for us to reach this point.”
“Well, nobody can say we’re not original.”
“Howard?” Vince bit the corner of his lip. “D’you remember all the Christmases when you were…y’know.”
“Er…” Howard thought for a moment. Hadn’t Jeremy once got him bladdered on Harvey Wallbangers at the staff Christmas party one year? Hadn’t Lana once bought him a moustache-patterned pencil case and then died of laughter when he’d unwrapped it. “Bits and pieces. It’s all a bit vague, really. Why?”
“No reason. S’just…sometimes I think about you, stuck in there on your own.”
“They weren’t real though,” Howard said quietly. “Like Naboo said, they’re false memories. They never really happened, yeah?”
“I know. I know. I just wish I could’ve been there.”
Howard sighed and took Vince’s hand. “Me too. And I wish you hadn’t gone through it for my sake. No one else would, you know. Not a boring old git like me.”
“I’d do it again.”
“Please don’t.”
Vince laughed, and his teeth were showing and his eyes glistened and he was incandescent.
“But we’ve got today, and next year, and the year after that,” Howard said. “That’s what matters, yeah?”
“Yeah. That and Jean-Claude Jacquettis new hairdryer.”
“You bloody peacock!” Howard grinned. “I’m pouring my heart out and all you can think about are your hair accessories.”
“I’m a bit of a simple man.” Vince said. “But I love you.”
“I love you too.”
And then Howard kissed Vince again, and somewhere in the very depths of his subconscious, the white corridor finally crumbled away.
The End.
***
Credits: This fic was inspired largely by the song 'Snowed In At Wheeler Street' by Kate Bush, as well elements of Kate's Atkinson's 'Life After Life' and a few bits and pieces of Doctor Who (what can I say?) Thanks to Noel and Julian for letting me (ok not really but they're not suing so hey) play around with their characters. Huge thanks to ideserveyou and the rest of the WriSoMiFu community for actually forcing me to write this down. Thanks to Veronika and Rosie for creating beautiful art to accompany this piece. Massive thanks to Cai for reading this fic in its infancy and telling me that it was ok, as well as to Bluey, Emmelie, Connie, Castie, and the rest of the BFC for support and encouragement. And finally, thanks to everyone who read, reviews, reblogged and recommended this fic. I know who you are, you know who you are, and I'll be messaging each and every one of you in due course. Without you I'd have given up, and I love you all. Happy Christmas!