This is a Hitchhiker's Guide/Hornblower crossover, written by two slashers. The authors are Les Lapins Mauvais and Demus.

Thank you to reviewers: Spirals, Captain Oz, KentouKurige and LadyBush

You are all very kind.

Captain Pellew was eventually revived by the judicious application of seawater and rum, and came round, spluttering and cursing.

"I will see those two men in my cabin immediately!" He shouted, so that even though the new arrivals were below decks getting a tour from Horatio and Archie, a messenger to convey the order was unnecessary. They soon stood before the Captain, trying not to cower before his wrath. Horatio and Archie were also there, because of a requirement in their film contracts that they had to be involved in every major scene. Captain Pellew demanded to know the strangers' names.

"I'm Ford Prefect," the shorter one said.

"Er, I'm Arthur Dent, um, sir," the other added, sounding far more uncertain. "Where are we?"

"On board His Majesty's Frigate Indefatigable," Horatio supplied, grateful as always to have got through the name without tripping over the syllables, especially with the distraction of Archie's elbow brushing against his as they stood at attention.

"So we're on Earth? The planet Earth?" Arthur asked eagerly, receiving very odd looks from everyone in the room besides Ford.

"No, we're on the moon," Archie quipped, only to be crushed by Pellew's roar of, "SILENCE!"

Arthur's face fell, but Pellew said, "Of course we're on the Earth, man, where else d'ye think we'd be?"

Arthur tried to draw Ford's attention to the fact that he had been right, but Ford was already talking.

"Well, do you think you could give us a hand with our binary thrusters? We just need a couple of spare parts, and the Improbability Drive's gone wonky. Trust Zaphod to steal a ship that doesn't even work properly! But if we can get to the Hastromil system, I have a friend around there who'll give us a free refit. Though what he'll think of a hitchhiker actually owning his own ship-- well, having stolen it from his semi-cousin, who stole it from--"

Ford became aware of the way everyone, including Arthur, was staring at him, and he trailed off into the deafening silence. The three naval officers started to back away slowly, while Arthur tried to reason with him.

"Ford, this is the Earth. They don't have that sort of technology, remember? They don't know what you're talking about. Actually, this doesn't even look like how I remembered it. Excuse me-" He turned to the young man with the blond hair, who seemed the least threatening of the strangers, "-but could you tell me what year it is?"

"1799," Archie replied, edging closer to Horatio for protection from the lunatics. Horatio heroically resisted the urge to hug him tightly.

"1799?" Ford and Arthur both echoed in horror.

"I'm stuck on this bloody zarking primitive planet for the third time! How zarking improbable is that!" Ford yelled.

"I won't be able to go back to my house or find any tea or anything!" Arthur yelled.

Captain Pellew stormed over to them. "Gentlemen," he growled threateningly, "if you do not tell me who you are and what you are doing here I will have you flogged, keel-hauled, and thrown off the ship."

"Well, you see, our spaceship crashed into the ocean here, and--" Ford started, but Arthur cut him off.

"We're both English," he said, recognising that everyone else on this ship seemed to be and that it would probably be good to point this out, "Ford here is from Guildford. And our, erm, ship- boat- thing isn't working properly. So we were wondering if you could possibly help us fix it, or, failing that, maybe let us go without hurting us too painfully?"

"Oh. At least one of you seems to be sane." Pellew said, assuming a slightly less imposing aspect. "We will take a look at your ship tomorrow, but for tonight, you will be our guests on board the Indefatigable." It was less of a request than an order, but they were grateful that the death threats had ended.

"Is there any tea on this, er, ship?" Arthur asked hesitantly.

"I'm afraid the rats ate it all a few months ago," Archie said sympathetically.

"We have lots of rum. And wine. And port. And whiskey." Horatio added, trying to be helpful. Ford looked interested, but noticed Arthur's downcast expression.

"It's okay, honey," he said, giving him a sympathetic hug, "I'm sure we'll find some tea for you somewhere."

They broke apart awkwardly when they realised they were being stared at again.

"Ford," Arthur whispered, "I don't think they did that back then."

Horatio just stared, aghast. These two strangers were so...free and open with their affection. Did they not fear the noose? Sodomy was a hanging offence! He glanced at Archie and burned with jealousy. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fair!

Archie caught Horatio's glare and quirked a quick grin- he wondered if Horatio knew that he pouted when he was annoyed. The blond acting-lieutenant made a few speedy calculations in his head and turned slightly, so his back faced Horatio, before leaning forwards to address the Captain. "Sir, shall I take our guests to their berths?" He felt the burning glare transfer to his backside.

"Yes, Mr Kennedy. See that they are comfortable," Pellew replied absently, his scrutiny fixed suspiciously on the newcomers, who were furiously avoiding anyone's eyes. Which was difficult when half the ship was watching them, peering in through the windows of the Captain's cabin.

Archie straightened and ripped off a salute, making a few more calculations in his head. He smirked inwardly- it was a good plan, and Horatio was so cute when he was jealous and couldn't do anything about it. The acting-lieutenant reached out to touch Arthur's arm. The taller man flinched and pirouetted so they were face to face. Archie smiled reassuringly "This way, Mr Dent," he said, acting as the conscientious host, occasionally touching a hand to the taller man's arm as he guided him out the cabin.

Ford frowned as he followed. Being helpful was all very well, but the exceedingly attractive and charming blondie was getting a little too friendly. 'Mr Kennedy' was touching, smiling and chatting, and being ever so delightfully engaging. Grrrrr. The Betelgeusian, feeling that attacking him without direct provocation might be a little rash, settled for a frosty silence and unfriendly glare. He repressed the urge to hiss 'Mine!'

What didn't help matters was the awkward presence of the gangly dark-haired lieutenant, who was keeping a bit close for Ford's liking. The Betelgeusian noted the slight pout and tense fidgety air- it seemed he wasn't the only one who was jealous. Ford sighed as they made their way to whatever accommodation was being provided for he and Arthur- people might not have 'done this back then', but that didn't stop them all being as gay as Maypoles.