Fic: One, Two, Many [Ford/Arthur]

[gildedmuse]

Ha! I bet you all thought I'd abondon this group! But I didn't. Well, okay, maybe for a bit - but I'm back now. And I brought fanfiction! That's right, I'm bribing you to forgive me (never said I was above anything of the sort)!

Author: Stephanie AKA Gildedmuse
Title: One, Two, Many...
Canon: My own little canon, where Arthur acts like book Arthur but likes like Martin Freedman. Okay, so bookverse, disregarding the last two. They're not really part of the trilogy anyway.
Rating: PG. Nothing more than a kiss or two.
Summary: Arthur and Ford wake up in jail (again) for crimes Arthur is very sure he didn't commit. No matter how much he had to drink, he's rather sure he wouldn't kiss Ford in public.


The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is a wholly remarkable book used by many of the more relaxed civilizations on the Outer Eastern Rim of the Galaxy as the standard repository of all knowledge and wisdom because even if it is not as correct as the prestigious Encyclopedia Galactica it is far more entertaining and, occasionally, has useful facts hidden in its notes. It has entries ranging from the best place to view the absolutely stunning twin moonsets on Klipos to the bars most visited by Eccentrica Gallumbits, the triple-breasted whore of Eroticon Six. It talks at great length about both the performing people of Vrolijic who, by law, must be dancing and/or singing (or at least have a certain bounce to their steps as they hum) at all times and the quite deadly vegetation on Fearnora that feeds off lost travelers.

The guide has entries that, due to disturbances in the space/time continuums and, more likely, lazy editors, no longer make any sense nor serve any purpose to hitchhikers. For example, a warning about the sex drive or a Lisobid of Limekagon V, a race that had since grow to be asexual, leaving many a confused and frustrated hitchhiker in its wake. The guide is the number one resource of not only hitchhikers, but explores, adventurers, entrepreneurs, swash-bucklers, buccaneers, space captains, and bar tenders alike.

Even without this remarkable book, Arthur Dent, an ape decedent life form with an affinity for tea, had a strong feeling that today was Thursday. He could never get the hang of Thursdays.

The earthman pushed himself to sit up using his elbows. He tried to remember drinking something, since he certainly felt hung over. Actually, he felt a lot like one who had just consumed a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, the effect of which is like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick

He squinted his eyes, hoping this would help clear his vision or at least force the room to stop swimming. It didn’t.

“Ford?” Arthur asked, looking over to the other man who was lying next to him in a similar state. “Ford, where the hell are we?”

Ford was shaking his head, still a few steps behind Arthur and trying to remember what he had to drink last night. This part was taking much longer for him, since Ford had consumed multiple drinks of questionable and straight out illegal origin and was having quite the time trying to name them all.

Ford looked over at Arthur, a bit annoyed that he’d been interrupted right in the middle of his list and didn’t see how knowing where the hell they were, especially if they were someplace they couldn’t get out of, was going to help the situation much.

The two men were lying on the floor of a room that was entirely white, eerily clean, and not the sort of place Ford Prefect would usually hang out. They also seemed to be surrounded by rather large, solid-looking glass walls.

“I’m not sure,” Ford said after a long pause.  “But I think it might be a Kathari cell.”

“What!” Arthur asked, his voice going dangerously high as it usually did when Ford made an announcement about their current predicament, which always seemed, in Arthur’s opinion, to involve some sort of weapon, jail, death-defying situation, or a bar.

“Or possible,” Ford added, standing up to get a batter look around. “One of their hotels. It’s very difficult to tell with these guys.”

The Kathari were one of the two sects of people that lived on the planet of Elizarr and where known for being diligent workers with high moral standards and such obsession with cleanliness that the president of Sterile-Starworks, the galaxies leading producer of cleaning supplies, was once quoted as calling the entire nation “A bunch of neurotic asshats”.

“What,” Arthur twisted around to see Ford taping on the huge, clear walls that were boxing them in. “do you mean by cell.”

“Well, it’s a lot like jail,” Ford said, taking a few steps to the left and knocking on another spot of the wall in much the same way he had done before. “Only-“

“I know what a cell is,” Arthur snapped. “Why are we here, Ford?”

“Ah,” Ford didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Well… Lot’s of reasons, I’m sure. You don’t happen to have a sledge hammer on you at the moment, do you?”

“What - No! Ford-“ Arthur was about to continue protesting about their situation when they were interrupted by a polite sounding cough.

Actually, the coughing had been polite the first two or three times. By the time Ford and Arthur actually noticed it, the polite cough had turned into more of a loud hacking noise. Both men turned around, surprised to find they had company.

The creature, who looked almost normal by Arthur’s very restricted standards (save for the fact that she appeared to have a veil growing out of her head instead of hair and her skin was a light shade of blue), was standing a few feet from the glass cage and handling something that almost resembled a gun and looked as if its creator had wanted a weapon but not necessarily one that “kill, injury, or insulted in any way”. This happened to be exactly what the creator was thinking.

The Katharis, being rather obsessed with moral values and proper etiquette, had little use for powerful or lethal weapons of any kind. However, they would still get the occasional hitchhikers with poor landing skills, and since hitchhikers could be expected to be the kinds of people who didn’t adhere to the formal regulation very well it was decided they needed some way of enforcing their culture on others. Thus the invention of the Tap Gun, a politely named firearm which effects were limited to fainting, minor and temporary memory loss, and something reassembling a hang over.

“I am Russa Yulick-Melin-Ous-Prann-Siema,” The girl said, holding the gun in both hands like one might hold a baby but certainly not a weapon they were planning on using. Being a relatively new to this job as official holding cell unit five-D guard, and seeing as she had never actually had to deal with hitchhiker’s before, and also that the gun she was holding wasn’t even considered a weapon in most major star systems, the girl was about as competent as a Vogon was at advanced astrophysics, which is to say not at all. “Daughter of Leevlad Yulick-Ojintop-Travack-“

“Wait a second,” Ford said, interrupting what would have ended up being a list of all five of Russa’s parental units, her original clan leaders, the name of her spouses and their parents, the names of the top ten governmental officials currently in power, and the last person she spoke to before them. It is estimated the Kathari spend, on average, more time introducing themselves than most races spend on the evolution process. “Why exactly are we here?”

“I was getting to that,” The guard said. “You’ve been placed in a holding cell by the Kathari government for the following crimes,”

“Oh, God,” Arthur moaned, burying his head and his hands.

“First charge: inappropriate dress in a public place. Second charge: obscene language in a public place. Third charge: displaying of inappropriate affection in a public place. Fourth charge: engaging in premarital sexual acts with one or more persons.”

That managed to get Arthur’s attention. “EXCUSE ME!” Arthur howled.

The Kathari emitted a sound from that sounded rather like a swarm of bees and was the equivalent to an earthling sighing in annoyance of dealing with someone like Arthur. “I am afraid I have no right to do that, sir. Fourth charge: engaging in premarital sexual acts with one or more persons.”

“EXCUSE ME!” Arthur squeaked again.

“You already said that, sir,” The guard pointed out. “I do not see how I am suppose to excuse you, as I have no power to do so. You must face a committee. I’m just here to read the charges.”

“What exactly,” Ford had wondered over from the wall he’d been prodding at to Arthur’s side. “Do you mean by sexual acts?”

The guard blushed. At least, it looked to Arthur like she blushed. At any rate her forehead turned a much darker shade of blue. “You were spotted not far from your vehicle…. kissing,” She said as quickly as she could.

“Ah,” Ford said. “Is that all?”

“According to eye witnesses,” The guard continued. “It was very suggestive.”

“I need to sit down,” A very ill looking Arthur announced, although neither Ford nor Russa caught this statement, which was probably just as well because they would have pointed out to Arthur that he was already sitting down and would have missed out on the meaning of it altogether. Still, Arthur wished at least someone would notice that he was very close to yet another mental breakdown. He seemed to get those a lot more often now then he did when he was on Earth. Especially when Ford was involved.

“Well, that doesn’t seem too bad,” said Ford. “What were the other ones again?”

“Inappropriate dress, obscene language, and inappropriate affection all in a public domain,” The guard repeated. “Fifth charge-”

“There are more?” Ford asked, wrinkling his forehead in mild concern.

“Yes.”

“Excuse me,” At this point Arthur regained enough of his composure to at least make a stab at defending himself. “Did you say kiss?”

“Yes… In a suggestive manner.”

“Kissing?”

“Yes sir. Kissing. Each other. In public.”

Arthur’s jaw hung slightly open while his brain desperately tried to process this information. Unfortunately, this did very little but make him look like a complete and utter idiot. “As in kissing? Do we have the same definition of kissing? You mean his mouth on mine and that sort of thing?”

The guard made the angry hive sound again. “I am only required to reading the charges,” She repeated in tone meant to convey just how little she thought of Arthur’s intelligence. “If you wish to protest-“

“I do!”

“You must do it in front of the committee.”

“But I didn’t kiss this man,” Arthur whined, pointing at Ford who seemed only slightly amused by all of this and was in no way helping the situation, in Arthur’s opinion.

“According to eye witnesses-“

“Bugger the eye witnesses!” Arthur yelled, his face turning the most hideous shade of red the poor Kathari has never seen, mainly do to the fact that red is one of the many colors banned by the Kathari people for reasons that the hitchhiker’s guide never goes into. Mainly, it admits, because they are both boring and complicated and no researcher really felt up to the task. In fact, the guide doesn’t say very much on the Kathari at all. This is because most of the research are much more interested in the opposing nation of Oisn, which got it’s name form the fact that the Elizarr characters’ for Oisn can easily be jotted down while drunk, thus allowing elected officials to sign papers without having to ever leave a nearby pub.

“I most certainly didn’t kiss Ford! I think I would have remembered having some bloke’s tongue down my throat! Or... Or drinking anything that might result in anything even possibly remotely like that! Now I demand-”

The guard had stopped listening to Arthur’s rant and was again turning about five shades of darker blue than when she had first appeared. “Sir!” She shouted equally loud, cutting Arthur off as he started in on his rights as a citizen of the crown. “I do not believe such foul language is necessary in this discussion. You have forced me to resort to… umm…uh… Force!” She said, as if it had only now occurred to her that the gun in her hands could be used for something other than show.

The guard press down on the trigger and immediately managed to knock herself out. It is nearly impossible to tell the friendly end of a Tap Gun from the slightly less friendly, but still good-humored end of a Tap Gun.

Ford looked at the collapsed body of their capture, then back to Arthur was still gibbering somewhat to himself, then back to the guard. “That went well.”

Arthur looked back to Ford with his mouth hanging open. “Excuse me!” He stuttered, baffled by Ford’s calm reactions. “Did you not hear her?”

“What, about the charges things? I wouldn’t worry. Kathari courts are a joke. Officials are some of the easier bribed in the galaxy, you know. Well, okay, not as easy as the Oisn but imagine spending all this time in a place so filled with nothing fun. You’d accept a few bribes here and there, too.”

Arthur opened and closed his mouth a few times and after a while gave up and went to the back corner to sit down. In the meantime Ford started knocking on the glass walls again. After a few minutes in which Arthur’s brain slowly started stopped denying that any of this was happening or, indeed, that there was even a remote chance that it could happen since it was much more likely he was locked away in an asylum on a still-surviving Earth safe from poetry that can mane and aliens with stricter regulations than most airports, Arthur began blathering in attempt to keep himself from coming to terms whole “the Earth has been destroyed and I’ve been traveling around the universe with a man whom I was apparently seen kissing and now in jail with” predicament.

“I can’t believe,” He muttered. “That she would…. How the hell did we end up… Kiss? Ford! Kiss!” Which probably wasn’t the best thing to say because Ford, having been inching closer to Arthur as he kept with his rhythmic wall beating, seemed to take this as a command rather than an earthman’s frantic attempt to stop his brain from properly wrapping around the idea.

After a few seconds of sitting very still with Ford’s lips pressed against his in what Arthur perceived to be a very awkward way the alien opened his eyes. He looked at Arthur, who stared right back in much the same way a deer might before realizing that the lights heading towards it where attached to a rather large truck that was not slowing down.

Ford very coolly pulled away and began searching the walls again.

Arthur remained perfectly still as he tried to come to grips with what just happened and his brain, having experienced way too much in the last twenty-four hours, was utterly against this whole idea and was flatly refusing to corporate.

“Ford?”

Ford made a muttered sound that might have been “What?” or possibly him just clearing his throat. Arthur took it to mean the former.

“What was that?”

Ford sighed, his forehead coming to rest against the cool glass paneling boxing the two men inside the cell. “It was a kiss Arthur,” He sounded very frustrated. Arthur furrowed his brow, trying to wrap his mind around this. His mind remained in staunch denial and still holding out that any moment now Arthur would give up and it wouldn’t have to think of these things.

“Was it?” Arthur asked.

“Yes,” Ford replied.

“Ah.” Arthur bit his lower lip, trying to think of something else to say while his brain continued not thinking about kissing Ford. “Did you like it?”

Ford spun around so fast he amazed even himself by not falling. It was very rare that Arthur said something that could catch Ford off guard but he had managed to right then.

Ford stared at Arthur, who looked back with a confused look plastered across his face. At least, Ford thought it was confusion. It was rather difficult to tell, considering that Arthur had that look on his face almost all the time. Ford was going with confused.

Ford blinked, which seemed to surprise Arthur. Good, now he wasn’t the only one feeling shocked.

“I guess”. The alien shrugged. “Why, did you?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Arthur confessed, his forehead crinkling up even more as he tried to ask his brain if he enjoyed it or not. His brain replied that it was temporality unavailable for comment, and would get back to him the moment everything in his life returned to normal, which meant never.

A feral grin spread across Ford’s lips. Even in his dazed state Arthur had the good sense to shiver and press himself closer to the wall. “Why don’t I help you,” Ford punctuated each one of his words by taking a step towards Arthur, whose eyes were fixed on Ford in the way one might fix their gaze on an approaching and obviously starved lion.

Ford certainly looked hungry.

“Help with -“ Too late. Ford had already descend, his smile vanishing as he kissed Arthur for the second time in the last few minutes.

It probably had something to do with the fact that any reasonable intelligible thought had long since vanished, but despite the fact that Ford Prefect was absolutely mad and had gotten Arthur in more life or death situations than he cared to recall and was the only reason, more or less, that they were currently locked up in a cell on a planet of Puritans, the kissing bit actually felt rather good.

Another shiver passed through the Earthling’s spine, this time brought on by Ford’s teeth nipping his bottom lip, tongue tracing around his mouth. What the hell, his mind relented before returning to its hibernation, much to the joy of some of Arthur’s other body parts.

Arthur whimpered, arms wrapping around Ford’s shoulders as the kiss deepened and he could feel the other man smile against his skin as he lowered to his knees, hands falling to Arthur’s hips.

“Oh! Gusaba!”

Arthur jerked back, or at least tried to and ended up hitting his head against the wall of his cell. Ford looked over his shoulder, surprised to see the young guard was awake again and staring at the two men with a horrified look on her face.

“Do you mind?” Ford asked, narrowing his eyes as she continued to stare, jaw drooped and eyes wide.

The girl shook her head.

“Well, could we get some privacy then?”

The guard looked down at the weapon clenched loosely in her hand, aimed it at her side. Seconds later she fainted again.

“Thank you,” Ford said when the guard hit the ground. He was back on his feet, walking over towards the front wall.

Arthur, who was struggling to remember how to breathe which was incredibly difficult under the circumstances, only managed a strangled, “What an odd girl,” as all this happened.

Ford shrugged, knocking on the glass panel one more time before bright smile broke out on his face. He turned back to Arthur. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Arthur stood up, brushing off his dress robe as he continued to watch the girl, expecting her to wake up at any moment. “We can’t just leave. We’re-“

Ford hit the glass wall again and it swung open.

“Come on,” He stepped out of the cell, signaling for Arthur to follow. “I want to get off this blasted planet and over to Oisn before all the bars close.”

“Before the bars in Oisn close” is a common saying through out the more frivolous part of the galaxies and is much like the Earth saying “before I die”, although you are much more likely find a dying Earthling than a closed bar in Oisn.

“How did you do that?” Arthur followed Ford out of the cell, looking in amazement at the door.

“All Kathari cells have these built in,” Ford replied. “They don’t like people feeling insulted by the idea of being in a cage.”

“Ah,” Arthur said. “That’s nice of them.”

“Bit daft, if you ask me,” Ford said with a shrug. He lead the way out of the building and Arthur was a bit surprised when no one even tried to stop them.

It took Arthur a while before he realized that Ford was walking rather fast, and every time he managed to catch up Ford would just speed up a little more, avoiding looking over at the other man. Had his brain been functioning, he would have worried about this behavior. It was almost as if Ford was embarrassed or shy.

He dismissed the thought rather quickly. Embarrassed or shy, along with rational, responsible, dependable, and somber where not words Arthur would apply to the alien under any circumstance.

“Ford?” Arthur asked after the other man almost jogged away from him by the time Arthur was able to catch up again.

Ford made a noncommittal sort of noise.

“Is everything alright?”

“Of course,” Ford answered in a flippant manner that was anything but.

A few more moments of silence while Arthur tried to think this over and catch up with Ford again.

“Arthur?”

“Yes?”

“…. Did you enjoy it?”

“Enjoy what?”

Ford coughed. “The… Um… Kissing part.”

“The kissing part?”

“Yes.”

Arthur paused. What did he think about the kissing part? He was trying not to, his sensible side reminded him. Yes, but other than that. Well, it had been a nice kiss as far as kisses go. It been a while sense he’d had one, so it was hard to compare. He remembered his last kiss had been with a girl named Susan and had been, by all recollections, quite unpleasant. Her lips had been squishy and sticky with too much lipstick and she had tasted like cream of mushroom soup. Ford had the sharp taste of alcohol and a few other unrecognizable things but it hadn’t left Arthur feeling queasy and, as far as he had been able to tell, the other man hadn’t been wearing any make up.

Honestly, Ford was a good kisser and it had been nice to have someone kiss him or show any interest, really, and the other man had certainly been warm to touch. It had been a while sense Arthur’s been able to touch like that, either, even if it was just a sort of hug.

“Nice,” He decided after chewing over the details.

“What?” Ford was quite shocked and a little confused. He came to a halt, turning around to look at Arthur as if he’d grown an extra head, which really wouldn’t have shocked him half as much. He knew many lovely people with two heads.

“I mean… I enjoyed it.”

The grin that broke out on Ford’s face caused Arthur to give a rather unmanly squeak and take a step back.

“Really?” Ford asked, that dangerous quality back in his voice. He took a step towards Arthur, who did an unconscious look for an escape route. “Because I can think of plenty other enjoyable-“

“Hold it right there,” Both men looked up, barely having time to register two Kathari officers pointing rather unimpressive Tap Guns at them before passing out on top of each other.

The first officer lowered his gun, walking over to the two men’s unmoving bodies. “This is the fourth time we’ve taking these two in,” He observed.

The other officer looked at the sleeping aliens and sighed. “You think they would have learned to keep the kissing until they got on the ship.”

“Maybe we should stop hitting them with the Tap Gun,” The boy pointed out, looking down at his weapon. He knew it had the effect of temporary memory loss but he never heard of the effects being quite so bad before. There had to be some denial in there for such potent effects.

The older officer shook her head, leaning down to pick Ford off of Arthur and hoisting him up on his shoulder. “Some people never learn. Another day in the cell for them, then.”

The End

Random Question: If someone wrote a smutty, light BDSM Arthur/Ford piece would anyone read it or would you just assume  that I... Er.. I mean, that "someone" was a freak and kick her out of the club.