Fanfic100-Home/How
Mar. 28th, 2007 05:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sissyTitle: Shoes and All
Fandom: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Characters: Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent
Prompt: 090. Home
Word Count: 421
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Right where the heart is.
Table
When Arthur wakes up at about midnight to Ford climbing through the bedroom window, second story, he doesn’t find it all that odd. They’ve been friends for about seven years, gotten completely off-their-arse drunk more times than they could count, and had grand adventures saving the universe together. These days it takes more than strange behavior like that to really surprise Arthur.
Of course, he can’t stop himself from sitting up and demanding answers. It’s a habit he’s really been trying to break, since he’d discovered answers are usually more trouble than they’re worth.’
“Ford! What are you doing?”
Said Betelgeusian flopped down next to the human and told him, a bit like a scolding mother, “You locked everything downstairs, Arthur. Even the front door.”
Of course Arthur locked the front door. The universe was a dangerous place and Arthur tried to dissuade any of that danger from getting into his house. Actually, he’d prefer for it to stay out of his yard as well, but if the spontaneous Crookian rhinos who’d fought each other to death in his garden just last week were anything to judge from, that was a bit much to ask for.
“I gave you a key.” Arthur reminded Ford. His friend just smiled lazily, arms tucked behind his head.
“I lost it.”
Which also didn’t surprise Arthur. But the lack of surprise had little to do with his experiences in the universe and a lot to do with his experiences around Ford. So Arthur just sighed, settled back down against his pillow, and tried to sleep. Sometimes things like that worked, usually they didn’t.
Ford grinned, mostly to himself. “This is a lot like your house in Cottington. Except it’s taller and there’s no conveniently placed tree for me to climb up.”
Arthur turned his face and grumbled into his pillow.
“And...” Ford continued,” There’s no guest bedroom.”
Cracking an eye open just a bit, Arthur told Ford,” The house in Cottington didn’t have a guest bedroom.”
“But you had a nice couch.”
Arthur thought, with his sleepy, human mind, about the new furniture in his new house. He thought about the ugly, stone-like couch sitting in his living room. “The couch I have now isn’t very nice.”
He could see Ford’s teeth glint in the light from the window.
“Exactly.”
Ford wiggled around a bit. Then he did it a bit more. Then a bit more. Arthur rolled his eyes, “Oh all right” and pulled the covers up just enough for Ford to slide under.
Title: Voila
Fandom: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Characters: Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent
Prompt: 081. How?
Word Count: 343
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The truth isn’t nearly as exciting.
Table
Now, despite the story Ford liked to tell people, Arthur and Ford did not meet at a sexy London bar, they did not play pin-the-tail-on-the-stripper, and Arthur did not dance around in something silky.
Actually, they met in a bookstore. A quaint little east London bookstore located between a flower shop and a woman’s clothes boutique. The meeting went a little something like this:
Arthur was enjoying his day off. He’s just left a lovely little café after having a nice lunch and cup of tea and he was looking for something to read while he lounged around the house.
Ford was not having such a great time. He’d woken up somewhere very awkward, even for him, and was looking for a new hangover cure since the milk and egg mix had not helped.
They collided in the used sci-fi section. Ford was flailing and groaning and Arthur was flat on his back with a book spread on his face. Arthur tasted the character’s angst and pushed himself up. “I’m so so sorry. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going! Are you alright?”
Ford eyed the human groggily. “Do you know where the hangover cure recipes are?”
“Err…I’m not sure…do they have books for that?” Arthur thought about the different sections in the bookstore. That’d be a cookbook, wouldn’t it? Or maybe lifestyle. “Well, cheese toast and milk tea always work good for me.”
Arthur fidgeted. The ginger haired man was staring at him intently. Arthur blinked several times. Ford stared.
It all seemed very strange to Arthur. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. Then, a slow, toothy smile broke out across Ford’s face and Arthur had to suppress the urge to cover his neck.
“Make me some.”
Arthur didn’t say anything. It seemed like the right thing to do.
“Make me some and I’ll keep you from buying this rubbish.” Ford said, plucking the book from Arthur’s hands.
And that’s what happened. The whole “sexy bar-stripper game-dancing Arthur” ordeal didn’t take place for several more months.
Fandom: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Characters: Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent
Prompt: 090. Home
Word Count: 421
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Right where the heart is.
Table
When Arthur wakes up at about midnight to Ford climbing through the bedroom window, second story, he doesn’t find it all that odd. They’ve been friends for about seven years, gotten completely off-their-arse drunk more times than they could count, and had grand adventures saving the universe together. These days it takes more than strange behavior like that to really surprise Arthur.
Of course, he can’t stop himself from sitting up and demanding answers. It’s a habit he’s really been trying to break, since he’d discovered answers are usually more trouble than they’re worth.’
“Ford! What are you doing?”
Said Betelgeusian flopped down next to the human and told him, a bit like a scolding mother, “You locked everything downstairs, Arthur. Even the front door.”
Of course Arthur locked the front door. The universe was a dangerous place and Arthur tried to dissuade any of that danger from getting into his house. Actually, he’d prefer for it to stay out of his yard as well, but if the spontaneous Crookian rhinos who’d fought each other to death in his garden just last week were anything to judge from, that was a bit much to ask for.
“I gave you a key.” Arthur reminded Ford. His friend just smiled lazily, arms tucked behind his head.
“I lost it.”
Which also didn’t surprise Arthur. But the lack of surprise had little to do with his experiences in the universe and a lot to do with his experiences around Ford. So Arthur just sighed, settled back down against his pillow, and tried to sleep. Sometimes things like that worked, usually they didn’t.
Ford grinned, mostly to himself. “This is a lot like your house in Cottington. Except it’s taller and there’s no conveniently placed tree for me to climb up.”
Arthur turned his face and grumbled into his pillow.
“And...” Ford continued,” There’s no guest bedroom.”
Cracking an eye open just a bit, Arthur told Ford,” The house in Cottington didn’t have a guest bedroom.”
“But you had a nice couch.”
Arthur thought, with his sleepy, human mind, about the new furniture in his new house. He thought about the ugly, stone-like couch sitting in his living room. “The couch I have now isn’t very nice.”
He could see Ford’s teeth glint in the light from the window.
“Exactly.”
Ford wiggled around a bit. Then he did it a bit more. Then a bit more. Arthur rolled his eyes, “Oh all right” and pulled the covers up just enough for Ford to slide under.
Title: Voila
Fandom: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Characters: Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent
Prompt: 081. How?
Word Count: 343
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The truth isn’t nearly as exciting.
Table
Now, despite the story Ford liked to tell people, Arthur and Ford did not meet at a sexy London bar, they did not play pin-the-tail-on-the-stripper, and Arthur did not dance around in something silky.
Actually, they met in a bookstore. A quaint little east London bookstore located between a flower shop and a woman’s clothes boutique. The meeting went a little something like this:
Arthur was enjoying his day off. He’s just left a lovely little café after having a nice lunch and cup of tea and he was looking for something to read while he lounged around the house.
Ford was not having such a great time. He’d woken up somewhere very awkward, even for him, and was looking for a new hangover cure since the milk and egg mix had not helped.
They collided in the used sci-fi section. Ford was flailing and groaning and Arthur was flat on his back with a book spread on his face. Arthur tasted the character’s angst and pushed himself up. “I’m so so sorry. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going! Are you alright?”
Ford eyed the human groggily. “Do you know where the hangover cure recipes are?”
“Err…I’m not sure…do they have books for that?” Arthur thought about the different sections in the bookstore. That’d be a cookbook, wouldn’t it? Or maybe lifestyle. “Well, cheese toast and milk tea always work good for me.”
Arthur fidgeted. The ginger haired man was staring at him intently. Arthur blinked several times. Ford stared.
It all seemed very strange to Arthur. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. Then, a slow, toothy smile broke out across Ford’s face and Arthur had to suppress the urge to cover his neck.
“Make me some.”
Arthur didn’t say anything. It seemed like the right thing to do.
“Make me some and I’ll keep you from buying this rubbish.” Ford said, plucking the book from Arthur’s hands.
And that’s what happened. The whole “sexy bar-stripper game-dancing Arthur” ordeal didn’t take place for several more months.