A/N: First GTG fic... don't know the characters very well yet, so they're probably OOC
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Arthur's Regression
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Of all things in the Galaxy - things big, small and somewhere in relativeness to the middle - nothing could have prepared Ford Prefect for what Arthur Dent had said.
They were supposed to be friends. Friends were people who did not hate each other - otherwise they would not be very good friends. Friends, like Arthur for example, did not tell other friends, like Ford for example, that they hate them.
The words were still there, screaming in Ford's head. Words said uncharacteristicly by Arthur.
"I hate you."
Said with such heavy malice, Ford recalled why Arthur would say such a thing to a friend. Okay, so maybe it was Ford's fault that they had ended up hitchhiking onto a relatively bad ship that had a relatively bad captain. They had escaped, easily, onto another ship - one more welcome to them - but Ford remembered Arthur's words all too well.
No apology was said, no clue of an otherwise pleasant demenour from Arthur as the man had taken his leave to search for something to eat. Ford stayed behind, moving himself to a seat in the only place in which he could find solitude.
Ford, sitting upon an down-turned crate in a storage closet, clenched his face in his hands as he tried to think of what to say to Arthur in apology.
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Arthur Dent had, in fact, found something that resembled Earth food. Questionable as it was being of a glowing purple state in the shape of a banana with a thick array of tiny furs on the top end. Arthur held it at an arms length trying to decide whether or not to ask Ford if it was safe to eat. One never did know for certain.
"Where is Ford anyhow?" Arthur thought outloud. "I wonder if he thinks I'm still sour at him from before...? Although it was his fault and..."
Arthur continued on at that thought and, as he walked on, he got angrier and angrier. And all this anger unfortunately found itself directed at Ford.
By the time that Arthur found Ford in the storage closet, he was too busy yelling at Ford to notice the down-trodden depressed look on the face of the other man.
When Arthur halted his tirade and actually looked at Ford's face, he immedaitely regretted his words.
"I'm sorry," Ford said quietly. He lifted his eyes slowly, sorrowfully, and then jumped up in horror. "ARTHUR! NO!"
Ford snatched the furry purple banana away from the unexpected hands of Arthur Dent.
"Have you any idea," Ford asked in a fit of rage, "How dangerous these are!? The furry part is poisoness. If you touch the furry part, I would have all of 5 minutes to get you to a doctor so you do not die!"
"Ford..." Arthur muttered, he streched a hand out and pointed to the dangerous purple thing.
"Arthur, wha--" Ford fell forward then, his face slumping down against Arthur's chest as Arthur clapsed his hands to keep Ford from hitting the floor.
"Ford?" Aruthur said, easing the man to a lay down position on the floor. "There you are, sit up now..." Ford didn't move. "I say Ford, you are looking rather..."
To not say the words, as Arthur wished he rather thought them. Dying. Ford looked almost dead.
His face had paled quite quickly and his lips were blue. Ford's hands, as Arthur noted, were a glowing purple on the palms and had several of the bits of fur protruding from them.
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To Be Con't
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------------------------------
Arthur's Regression
------------------------------
Of all things in the Galaxy - things big, small and somewhere in relativeness to the middle - nothing could have prepared Ford Prefect for what Arthur Dent had said.
They were supposed to be friends. Friends were people who did not hate each other - otherwise they would not be very good friends. Friends, like Arthur for example, did not tell other friends, like Ford for example, that they hate them.
The words were still there, screaming in Ford's head. Words said uncharacteristicly by Arthur.
"I hate you."
Said with such heavy malice, Ford recalled why Arthur would say such a thing to a friend. Okay, so maybe it was Ford's fault that they had ended up hitchhiking onto a relatively bad ship that had a relatively bad captain. They had escaped, easily, onto another ship - one more welcome to them - but Ford remembered Arthur's words all too well.
No apology was said, no clue of an otherwise pleasant demenour from Arthur as the man had taken his leave to search for something to eat. Ford stayed behind, moving himself to a seat in the only place in which he could find solitude.
Ford, sitting upon an down-turned crate in a storage closet, clenched his face in his hands as he tried to think of what to say to Arthur in apology.
------------------------------
Arthur Dent had, in fact, found something that resembled Earth food. Questionable as it was being of a glowing purple state in the shape of a banana with a thick array of tiny furs on the top end. Arthur held it at an arms length trying to decide whether or not to ask Ford if it was safe to eat. One never did know for certain.
"Where is Ford anyhow?" Arthur thought outloud. "I wonder if he thinks I'm still sour at him from before...? Although it was his fault and..."
Arthur continued on at that thought and, as he walked on, he got angrier and angrier. And all this anger unfortunately found itself directed at Ford.
By the time that Arthur found Ford in the storage closet, he was too busy yelling at Ford to notice the down-trodden depressed look on the face of the other man.
When Arthur halted his tirade and actually looked at Ford's face, he immedaitely regretted his words.
"I'm sorry," Ford said quietly. He lifted his eyes slowly, sorrowfully, and then jumped up in horror. "ARTHUR! NO!"
Ford snatched the furry purple banana away from the unexpected hands of Arthur Dent.
"Have you any idea," Ford asked in a fit of rage, "How dangerous these are!? The furry part is poisoness. If you touch the furry part, I would have all of 5 minutes to get you to a doctor so you do not die!"
"Ford..." Arthur muttered, he streched a hand out and pointed to the dangerous purple thing.
"Arthur, wha--" Ford fell forward then, his face slumping down against Arthur's chest as Arthur clapsed his hands to keep Ford from hitting the floor.
"Ford?" Aruthur said, easing the man to a lay down position on the floor. "There you are, sit up now..." Ford didn't move. "I say Ford, you are looking rather..."
To not say the words, as Arthur wished he rather thought them. Dying. Ford looked almost dead.
His face had paled quite quickly and his lips were blue. Ford's hands, as Arthur noted, were a glowing purple on the palms and had several of the bits of fur protruding from them.
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To Be Con't
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