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sissyTitle: A Little Less Dance
Fandom: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Characters: Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent
Prompt: 049. Club
Word Count: 1482
Rating:PG-13
Summary: Trillian plays matchmaker.
Table
It shouldn’t take an astrophysicist to figure it out.
For some reason though, Trillian seemed to be the only one who could see how completely, ridiculously in love Ford and Arthur are. They’re so head over heels in love that if the Magrathean’s accepted affection as a form of currency they’d be able to buy a whole galaxy of planets and then some.
But neither of them seemed to realize it. They acted as if it’s perfectly normal for best-friends to share sleeping quarters despite an abundance of rooms. They acted like two male friends curling up together on the sofa was the most expected thing for them to do. The fact that the only things they argued about were the same kind of things old married couples squabbled over went completely over their heads. They were already great together and Trillian knew that if they took just one more step they’d be perfect.
Unfortunately, not everyone has the observation skills of Trillian . They’d once again docked on some random planet and, once again, everyone would go out to have a good time except Arthur. Ford would get drunk and dance with girls, Arthur would stay on the ship and mope. This, Trillian had decided, was a big crimp in the way things should be.
“Arthur.” She told him sharply,” Arthur, dressed. You’re going out.”
Arthur blinked at her with a sort of owlish looking surprise. “But, I’m not--”
“Yes, you are.” Trillian interrupted him. “Now go change into some real clothes and hurry, because we’ll be there soon.” She smiled when Arthur stumbled away in a daze to do as she said.
The earth women was waiting by the exit when Ford and Zaphod turned into the hallway, engaged in a heated argument that Trillian was certain she had no interest in. It had only ever come to blows between them once before (during a fierce argument about the best tie color, no less), but it’d been…very nasty, so Trillian intervened. “You two can go on ahead, I’m going to wait for Arthur.”
This side-tracked them easily. “The monkey’s going out?” Zaphod laughed. Ford opened his mouth to speak , but caught sight of something and snapped it shut. Trillian turned to see Arthur shuffling toward them. She resisted the urge to make the same surprised sound as Zaphod.
She’d only seen Arthur in anything other than disheveled hair and his dressing gown once, at that party, and he’d looked ridiculous. But this Arthur-in those nice new clothes and relatively neater hair was…rather handsome, if you went for the kind who were perpetually dazed and mostly dull.
Ford moved between them and Arthur, effectively cutting off whatever smart remark Zaphod was about to make. “Hey Arthur, you’re actually coming out? Great!”
“Yeah, great.” Zaphod repeated, his tone dry. Trillian swatted at his closest head and ushered them all into the transporter.
Since it was a work-night, the bar wasn’t overflowing. It was still packed, but apparently enough people had the sense to get a good sleep once in a while that there was actually breathing space every few yards. “Shame for them,” Zaphod quipped, and hurried off to the bar.
Ford, for once, wasn’t right on his tail. He hung back by the door, where Arthur was fidgeting nervously. Trillian took pride in the fact that the earthman’s new clothes were getting appreciative looks from Ford, as well as some other bar-goers. After all, she’d been thinking of sensibility rather than eye-catching when she’d picked them out.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Arthur was saying. “The last party I went to didn’t go so well and-”
“But this isn’t a party, Arthur.” Trillian cut in before Ford could, earning her a half-affronted look from the Betelgeusian ,which she completely ignored. ‘It’s just a bar, so relax and have some fun.”
Then she straightened out and smiled at Ford, teeth gleaming,” You can run along, Ford. I’ll get Arthur settled in. Didn’t you have some bet with Zaphod?…”
Well no, actually, he didn’t. But there was always a chance that he just didn’t remember (a big chance, really, since it was easy not to listen when Zaphod spoke.) and losing to his semi-cousin wasn’t the kind of losing Ford was interested in. He looked between the bar and Arthur, gave Trillian a faintly suspicious glance ,and gave in. “Uh, yeah. Have fun, Arthur.” and he disappeared into the crowd.
Trillian redirected her too-wide smile at Arthur, who just looked a bit lost. She directed his attention to a table at the other end of the room. A few humanoids were lounging near some railing by it, occasionally looking over to watch the two earthlings. “There’s a free seat, Arthur. Let’s sit for a bit?”
Arthur seemed to like the idea. A lot. He nodded eagerly and Trillian almost felt bad about what she was planning. She continued to smile as she pushed him forward, toward the table. And when he was in front of her, moving on his own, she turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Throwing him to the sharks was a bit excessive, maybe. But it wasn’t as if she wasn’t going to keep an eye on him every so often. Just let him flounder about a bit before his polite English charm made him acknowledge someone’s advances (and there would be advances, for sure. Some of the people were so drunk they flirted with chairs. And not the sentient kind.) and let him have some fun. And then!
Then her plan took on more of a chancy feel. Maybe she’d been watching too many of those space soap-operas that Eddie was fond of flipping too. Ford would get jealous, definitely, if he saw. But Ford was with Zaphod ,with alcohol, and that meant he could already be too drunk to really see anything.
Trillian stood on her tip-toes long enough to watch the panicked Arthur flit around the table awkwardly before crossing her fingers and heading to the bar.
It wasn’t until a while later that Ford stretched from his seat, cheeks slightly red from the effort of drinking so much of whatever it was that he was drinking. Zaphod was still throwing back shots of something with the determined look of a man who had no fear of hangovers. That was the point in which Trillian knew her plan was going to work. It was like some perfect movie-moment, when the crowd parted just right and Ford looked in just the right direction. Arthur wasn’t dancing, more like just swaying, but the other girl/guy-ish looking thing was holding him fairly close.
She couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly against her glass each time she spotted Ford shooting looks around his current dance partner in Arthur’s direction. Jealous looks. Trillian wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or annoyed by his self-control , because Zaphod had taught her the concept that Betelgeusians hated being jealous. It was apparently an attachment that came with the huge genetic ego.
But nonetheless, she was so happy with the way things were working out that she didn’t even protest when Zaphod’s third arm made some inappropriate moves during the only slow dance of the night. After a few more songs, she caught Ford’s arm when he passed by and they both had their eyes on Arthur. “It’s great that he’s having a good time, isn’t it?”
Ford just gave her an appalled look.
It really did look like Arthur was enjoying himself though. Humanoids were always a hit at parties, even ones as consistently lost as Arthur. He’d already danced with several partners, no doubt fulfilling his alien close-encounters limit for the day, and was pulling himself away from a new one to make his way toward them.
“Ford! Trill!” Arthur wiped his brow, smiling at them tiredly, “This was fun.”
“I told you you’d like it.” Trillian chimed, followed closely by Ford’s, “But you’re ready to go now, right?”
“Well yes, “Arthur nodded,” it’s fun, but I’d rather like a cup of tea and a nice sit down before bed.” neither of which could be found in this particular bar.
“Oh, well-me and you should head out now, then.”
Arthur glanced at Ford strangely. The ginger haired man rarely left bars before they closed, and that was only after massive amounts of alcohol (which Ford had yet to consume) and extreme coercion. ‘Are you feeling alright, Ford?”
Nodding, Ford nudged Arthur with one hand and waved at Trillian with the other,” Yes, yes, let’s just go-we need to have a chat.”
“A chat?” Arthur intoned, allowing himself to be pushed.
Trillian crossed her arms and smirked smugly, satisfied as she watched Ford lead Arthur though the crowd, catching just a bit more of their conversations.
“Yes, a chat about you, me ,and all the people you shouldn’t be dancing with…”
Fandom: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Characters: Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent
Prompt: 049. Club
Word Count: 1482
Rating:PG-13
Summary: Trillian plays matchmaker.
Table
It shouldn’t take an astrophysicist to figure it out.
For some reason though, Trillian seemed to be the only one who could see how completely, ridiculously in love Ford and Arthur are. They’re so head over heels in love that if the Magrathean’s accepted affection as a form of currency they’d be able to buy a whole galaxy of planets and then some.
But neither of them seemed to realize it. They acted as if it’s perfectly normal for best-friends to share sleeping quarters despite an abundance of rooms. They acted like two male friends curling up together on the sofa was the most expected thing for them to do. The fact that the only things they argued about were the same kind of things old married couples squabbled over went completely over their heads. They were already great together and Trillian knew that if they took just one more step they’d be perfect.
Unfortunately, not everyone has the observation skills of Trillian . They’d once again docked on some random planet and, once again, everyone would go out to have a good time except Arthur. Ford would get drunk and dance with girls, Arthur would stay on the ship and mope. This, Trillian had decided, was a big crimp in the way things should be.
“Arthur.” She told him sharply,” Arthur, dressed. You’re going out.”
Arthur blinked at her with a sort of owlish looking surprise. “But, I’m not--”
“Yes, you are.” Trillian interrupted him. “Now go change into some real clothes and hurry, because we’ll be there soon.” She smiled when Arthur stumbled away in a daze to do as she said.
The earth women was waiting by the exit when Ford and Zaphod turned into the hallway, engaged in a heated argument that Trillian was certain she had no interest in. It had only ever come to blows between them once before (during a fierce argument about the best tie color, no less), but it’d been…very nasty, so Trillian intervened. “You two can go on ahead, I’m going to wait for Arthur.”
This side-tracked them easily. “The monkey’s going out?” Zaphod laughed. Ford opened his mouth to speak , but caught sight of something and snapped it shut. Trillian turned to see Arthur shuffling toward them. She resisted the urge to make the same surprised sound as Zaphod.
She’d only seen Arthur in anything other than disheveled hair and his dressing gown once, at that party, and he’d looked ridiculous. But this Arthur-in those nice new clothes and relatively neater hair was…rather handsome, if you went for the kind who were perpetually dazed and mostly dull.
Ford moved between them and Arthur, effectively cutting off whatever smart remark Zaphod was about to make. “Hey Arthur, you’re actually coming out? Great!”
“Yeah, great.” Zaphod repeated, his tone dry. Trillian swatted at his closest head and ushered them all into the transporter.
Since it was a work-night, the bar wasn’t overflowing. It was still packed, but apparently enough people had the sense to get a good sleep once in a while that there was actually breathing space every few yards. “Shame for them,” Zaphod quipped, and hurried off to the bar.
Ford, for once, wasn’t right on his tail. He hung back by the door, where Arthur was fidgeting nervously. Trillian took pride in the fact that the earthman’s new clothes were getting appreciative looks from Ford, as well as some other bar-goers. After all, she’d been thinking of sensibility rather than eye-catching when she’d picked them out.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Arthur was saying. “The last party I went to didn’t go so well and-”
“But this isn’t a party, Arthur.” Trillian cut in before Ford could, earning her a half-affronted look from the Betelgeusian ,which she completely ignored. ‘It’s just a bar, so relax and have some fun.”
Then she straightened out and smiled at Ford, teeth gleaming,” You can run along, Ford. I’ll get Arthur settled in. Didn’t you have some bet with Zaphod?…”
Well no, actually, he didn’t. But there was always a chance that he just didn’t remember (a big chance, really, since it was easy not to listen when Zaphod spoke.) and losing to his semi-cousin wasn’t the kind of losing Ford was interested in. He looked between the bar and Arthur, gave Trillian a faintly suspicious glance ,and gave in. “Uh, yeah. Have fun, Arthur.” and he disappeared into the crowd.
Trillian redirected her too-wide smile at Arthur, who just looked a bit lost. She directed his attention to a table at the other end of the room. A few humanoids were lounging near some railing by it, occasionally looking over to watch the two earthlings. “There’s a free seat, Arthur. Let’s sit for a bit?”
Arthur seemed to like the idea. A lot. He nodded eagerly and Trillian almost felt bad about what she was planning. She continued to smile as she pushed him forward, toward the table. And when he was in front of her, moving on his own, she turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Throwing him to the sharks was a bit excessive, maybe. But it wasn’t as if she wasn’t going to keep an eye on him every so often. Just let him flounder about a bit before his polite English charm made him acknowledge someone’s advances (and there would be advances, for sure. Some of the people were so drunk they flirted with chairs. And not the sentient kind.) and let him have some fun. And then!
Then her plan took on more of a chancy feel. Maybe she’d been watching too many of those space soap-operas that Eddie was fond of flipping too. Ford would get jealous, definitely, if he saw. But Ford was with Zaphod ,with alcohol, and that meant he could already be too drunk to really see anything.
Trillian stood on her tip-toes long enough to watch the panicked Arthur flit around the table awkwardly before crossing her fingers and heading to the bar.
It wasn’t until a while later that Ford stretched from his seat, cheeks slightly red from the effort of drinking so much of whatever it was that he was drinking. Zaphod was still throwing back shots of something with the determined look of a man who had no fear of hangovers. That was the point in which Trillian knew her plan was going to work. It was like some perfect movie-moment, when the crowd parted just right and Ford looked in just the right direction. Arthur wasn’t dancing, more like just swaying, but the other girl/guy-ish looking thing was holding him fairly close.
She couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly against her glass each time she spotted Ford shooting looks around his current dance partner in Arthur’s direction. Jealous looks. Trillian wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or annoyed by his self-control , because Zaphod had taught her the concept that Betelgeusians hated being jealous. It was apparently an attachment that came with the huge genetic ego.
But nonetheless, she was so happy with the way things were working out that she didn’t even protest when Zaphod’s third arm made some inappropriate moves during the only slow dance of the night. After a few more songs, she caught Ford’s arm when he passed by and they both had their eyes on Arthur. “It’s great that he’s having a good time, isn’t it?”
Ford just gave her an appalled look.
It really did look like Arthur was enjoying himself though. Humanoids were always a hit at parties, even ones as consistently lost as Arthur. He’d already danced with several partners, no doubt fulfilling his alien close-encounters limit for the day, and was pulling himself away from a new one to make his way toward them.
“Ford! Trill!” Arthur wiped his brow, smiling at them tiredly, “This was fun.”
“I told you you’d like it.” Trillian chimed, followed closely by Ford’s, “But you’re ready to go now, right?”
“Well yes, “Arthur nodded,” it’s fun, but I’d rather like a cup of tea and a nice sit down before bed.” neither of which could be found in this particular bar.
“Oh, well-me and you should head out now, then.”
Arthur glanced at Ford strangely. The ginger haired man rarely left bars before they closed, and that was only after massive amounts of alcohol (which Ford had yet to consume) and extreme coercion. ‘Are you feeling alright, Ford?”
Nodding, Ford nudged Arthur with one hand and waved at Trillian with the other,” Yes, yes, let’s just go-we need to have a chat.”
“A chat?” Arthur intoned, allowing himself to be pushed.
Trillian crossed her arms and smirked smugly, satisfied as she watched Ford lead Arthur though the crowd, catching just a bit more of their conversations.
“Yes, a chat about you, me ,and all the people you shouldn’t be dancing with…”