Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. It's just for fun and to develop my own writing skills.

Who and Why--A Hitchhiker's fic

The starship Heart of Gold lurched eloquently from the Infinite Improbability Drive into some sort of vague normality in open space, all inconsistencies aboard ironing themselves out with as much grace as inconsistencies could.

Arthur Dent sighed. For some odd reason he couldn't stand to look at the stars. Perhaps it was the even inconvenient mixture of vertigo and homesickness, but he just wasn't feeling it. So he sat rather dejectedly in a corner of the ship's hallway with a cup of Nutri-Matic slush that wasn't quite unlike dry leaves in boiling water but was one hundred percent disgusting.

"Arthur!" Ford suddenly shouted as he popped into existence, Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster in hand.

"Hello, Ford," Arthur said quietly, not really looking up.

"I just wanted to let you know that Trillian wanted me to let you know that I should let you know that Zaphod's thrown a party on the bridge. Just to let you know. If you wanted to go."

"No, thanks," Arthur rolled his eyes and put a little more effort into looking pathetic. "I'd rather not."

"Suit yourself," Ford said, hovering about a bit. "Would'ja like some?" he proffered the Gargle Blaster at Arthur, who was being very successful at looking pathetic already. He shook his head.

"You're not going?" he asked of the Betelgeusian, who was finishing off his drink.

"No, I don't think so, not today…" he drawled. "Y'see, Zaphod's parties aren't really worth much, considering he hogs all the drinks. Hold on a second, Arthur."

He disappeared. Arthur sighed, and shook around the cup of un-liquid. He considered pouring it all over the floor, but realized that if he was the last of his kind, he might as well uphold the manners he had been brought up with in order to at lease preserve his culture.

Ford suddenly skidded back into view once again, this time with two Gargle Blasters.

"There you go, Arthur," he said cheerily as he presented him with one. "It'll do you some good."

"No, actually, I don't really think it's such a good idea…"

"That's the problem with you, Arthur," Ford said as he sat next to him on the hallway floor. "You think too much. And it's rather counterproductive, since you never have the proper thoughts as it is. Drink."

Arthur looked at him skeptically for a moment. Ford smiled. Arthur decided it would be better to do what he said, and took the drink.

"Cheers," Ford said, clinking glasses with Arthur and taking a delicate sip.

Arthur looked apprehensively at his glass for a moment before doing the same. He yelped.

Ford grinned, and effortlessly tossed back the rest of his own drink. After putting his breathing back to normal and making sure he could see straight, Arthur took a bold risk and finished it.

In a moment, his head was between his knees, the glass was on the floor, and the Nutri-Matic cup he had placed adjacent to him a few moments earlier had emptied its contents all over the floor regardless of any say Arthur had previously had in the matter.

Ford began to giggle, realized it was unbecoming, and then tried to stop. He then realized that he couldn't, giggled some more, finally guffawed a bit, then stopped. The hallway was quiet. There wasn't even a blissful sigh of servitude from a Sirius Cybernetics door.

After a few moments, Arthur spoke.

"Ford?"

"Yeah, Arthur?"

"…Why did you do it? Why didn't you just leave me there to get vaporized by the Vogons like the rest of the Earth? It's not as though you like having me around out here, is it?"

Ford was quiet for a long moment, suddenly serious. Arthur had given up on a reply by the time he spoke again.

"To tell you the truth, Arthur, I really don't have the slightest idea why I brought you with me. But I think it's best not to think of it. I mean, it's the same way with life in general. No use getting all bogged down in it, since it's just the way it is. We've got this whole universe, and maybe we can explain a little how it happened and what it's made of and we even know when it'll end, but we don't know why we're or who was sick enough in the brain to decide that. So no, I don't know why I bothered. But we might as well accept it."

Arthur wiped a misplaced droplet of water form his cheek and inhaled deeply before turning back to look at Ford. Ford clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Buck up there, Arthur," he said, and stood. "I need another drink."

He disappeared again, leaving Arthur wondering intently about the who and the why.

A/N: This might perhaps be in a series of one-shots about my other OTPs and sort of the basis of their 'ships…I'm trying desperately to keep them in character. Check out my profile for a longer rant on that if you'd care to do so, and some of my original characters and stories and fanart on my DeviantART account (of which there is a link on my profile). Thanks for reading; reviews are real constructive too…