I don't own Buck Rogers. But I would like to borrow him for a while.
Originally written as a stocking stuffer for knightshade in the 2007 Yuletide Obscure Fandom Fanfiction Exchange.
Getting Leid in the 25th Century
by Jo Z. Pierce
Exhausted, Captain William "Buck" Rogers walked into his quarters. Colonel Wilma Deering was in tow.
"You know, it's not everyday that you get to save a whole planet, rescue your friends, and return to Earth in time for supper!"
Buck took off his shiny white pseudo-spandex fighter pilot jacket as he made his joke, and casually tossed it on the simple seats that reminded him of a couch.
"It isn't?"
The beautiful Colonel followed him inside, but she remained completely robed. She was a frequent visitor, and one of his dearest friends, but she still maintained a level of formality that he wished she would drop. It was, however, both a sign of the times, and a sign of her status. She was his commanding officer, after all, even if his position and rank was officially unofficial.
He pointed at the food replicator as she sat down next to the discards of his uniform. She nodded, knowing he was offering her a drink. He went over to the food replicator and requested two.
"You know, you're right, Wilma. The way that we have been working, it does seem like we're saving a planet or two everyday of the week."
"And we are all very grateful that you are here to help us, Buck." The colonel smiled at her friend. She was the most grateful of anyone.
Everyone in Earth Defense Directorate knew that Buck Rogers was probably the single most important, even if unofficial, fighter pilot they had. Whether it was outsmarting Princess Ardala and the Draconians, uncovering secret slavery rings, or even fighting space vampires, Captain Rogers had probably saved the planet nearly a hundred times since he was recovered from his ancient space vessel and revived from his centuries-long sleep.
"Boy, am I bushed," Buck said, fighting back a yawn.
"Bushed?" Wilma responded with her own yawn. Doctors in the 25th century found a cure for the common cold, but they never did figure out how to stop the spread of contagious yawning.
"Yeah. Bushed. Pooped."
"Pooped?" Wilma recoiled, unsure of what that silly sounding word meant either. "Are you joking?"
"Nah. I'm too exhausted for that. You know. Tired. Exhausted. Pooped!"
Wilma nodded her head, finally understanding the new phrases. She sipped at her drink as she mentally jotted down the words for future reference. Buck had gotten used to explaining 20th century lingo to his 25th century friends. Although he tried not to sound like he was teasing them too much, he secretly enjoyed playing with the words at his friends expense.
"Yeah... Boy, am I... pooped."
"Oh, Buck. I'm sorry. Do you want to go to sleep now?" Wilma looked worried. She imagined that her friend was tired, and she didn't understand his subtle hints. But it was ok, since she was also "pooped." Still, she tried not to let it show. She was a colonel, after all.
"Really, if you want to go to bed..."
Buck tried to hold back a smile. As much as he enjoyed wordplay, it was even better when his friends played with the meanings of 20th century speech, and didn't even know they were doing it.
"Nah. But I may take you up on that later. For now, I think I'm gonna get out my Hawaiian shirt and put in for two weeks vacation."
"Hawaiian shirt? Buck, you know I still don't seem to understand your sense of humor."
"What sense of humor?"
"That wasn't a joke?"
"No. I heard Hawaiian shirts are finally coming back into fashion after 500 years. I'm dying to break mine out of the old footlocker..."
"I don't understand."
"No. I guess you don't. Well, Hawaiian shirts were really comfortable shirts that people wore when going on vacation. Very lose fitting. With very bright patterns on them. Usually floral motifs."
"Why?"
"To remind people of... vacation!"
"Then why was it called a Hawaiian shirt?"
"It was a popular vacation spot, back in my day."
"You're kidding..."
"Well, that was before the Holocaust. Back then, Hawaii used to be an island paradise, you know."
"Oh, yes, I think I have heard that somewhere." Wilma smiled at Buck. "Probably from you."
"Probably."
"Well, then, how do I know you were not just... how do you say it again... I putting me in /I ?"
The captain chuckled. I "Putting you on," /I he corrected. Some plays with words weren't worth the effort.
"No. I'm serious. The shirts reminded people of flowers, the sun, and the sea. They reminded people of where they spent their vacations, or where they wanted to be. And Hawaii was very popular. Most tropical islands were."
"So, these shirts were beautiful?"
"Well, not exactly."
"But the flowers...?"
"Well... they were... too much."
"Too much, what?"
"Too loud." Buck tried to explain further, seeing the confused look on Wilma's face. "They were too colorful. Too outrageous."
"Then why did people wear them?"
"They made you feel good..."
"By looking outrageous?" Wilma shook her head. She wasn't sure if he was serious or not.
"Well, yeah! I guess so."
"And you owned one?"
"I had four."
"Why?"
"The wild patterns and bright colors helped me relax." Buck lifted his glass in a mocking toast, and finished the last of his drink.
"I never will understand you..."
"You know, I bet you would look great in a Hawaiian skirt."
"Oh? Are those really colorful, too?"
"No. Actually they are really very simple. The color of dried grass."
"Really?" Wilma tried to imagine what that would look like, and seemed to be happy with her mental results. "Well, I guess I could get used to that."
"So could I." The captain smiled widely, as he glanced playfully at the colonel. "Speaking of Hawaii... have I told you about the lei?"
"Is that another 20th century expression?"
"You betcha!" Not willing to miss this opportunity for verbal play, he pressed on. "You interested?"
Wilma looked across the room at her friend, considered it, and then responded eagerly.
"Well... sure! Why not?"