Something Nice Happens to Arthur

"So… what is a cation then?" said Phred.

"And you call yourself a rebel scientist," scoffed Ford.

"So?"

"Isn't it a…" began Phelix.

"Sshh," said Ford. He was in a bad mood and felt like he needed to prove himself. Phoebe had left him after seeing the humiliating F on his forehead and he currently lacked a girlfriend. Andema wouldn't talk to him except to stop, point at him and say "HA!" Clap kept up a steady stream of mildly harmful pranks. Malea seemed to be interested in Phred for unknown reasons. And he'd insulted Phonebooth after forgetting whom he was talking to and asking her to please pass the salt. Now she thought he was dangerously insane and was staying a long way away.

"A cation," said Ford, "Is a positive metal cat."

"Er, I don't think that's quite right," said Phelix.

"Well, why don't YOU tell him then?" said Ford.

"I tried to," said Phelix, "but you wouldn't let me." Ford threw up his hands in disgust, and left.

Arthur was staring morosely at his Babel fish, which he had removed from his ear and placed in his dolphin-bowl. He couldn't see what use it was recently. Everyone he felt like talking to spoke English, or something remotely like it. Besides, he had recently lost faith in his fish after trying to hold a conversation with Phonebooth.

"When you put that back in, you should put these in also," said Ford, holding out a plate of chips that smelt strongly of vinegar.

"What, in my ear?"

"Yes. It will make it translate better."

"I'm not shoving a plate of chips in my ear!"

"Not the plate," Ford said patiently, "Just the chips."

"That's disgusting!" said Arthur. He thoughtfully dropped a chip into the fish bowl. The fish continued to swim, unperturbed.

"Well," said Ford, "I've run out of things to do." Arthur clutched his fishbowl in anticipation.

"You know," said Ford conversationally, "You have nice…"

"Thanksbye," said Arthur, running into his room and locking the door. Ford sighed, and added Arthur to his list of People He Couldn't Ask To Be His Girl(ph)riend/Boy(ph)riend.

Meanwhile, somewhere else, Malea saw what Clap was wearing, and stared.

"I don't get it." Clap looked down, then up again.

"What's not to get?" Clap was wearing a black lacy tank-top thing over a royal blue T-shirt.

"Your clothing," said Malea, then hesitantly, "It's…interesting." Clap looked down and up. Down and up. Down and up. Smiled. Pulled out a gun and carefully shot Malea in the foot.

"Ow," said Malea, tipping over. She said this with quite a lot more expression than is allowed for on paper. "But it is…interesting."

"Why are you pausing?" said Clap suspiciously.

"Er…"said Malea, "…I'm going to the sickbay." She left, very, very slowly.

Clap looked down and up.

"Well I like it!"

Zaphod sat in the room with the sullen teenaged girl that he was in no way related, or beholden to. Trillian was operating the ship for the first time in a week, and had somehow managed to give him the task of babysitting Random. She had apparently chosen him because Andema had guilted her into not giving Arthur the job.

Damn Arthur. If he weren't Random's dad, Zaphod would have no trouble coming onto her. As is, he didn't even really want to speak to her. It would count as a point in monkey-man's favour.

Anyhow, he could at least outsulk her. He coolly stared off into the distance, pacifying himself with Trillian's promised sex. She had done so rather impatiently and anxiously, trying to get Random off of her hands.

"My mum would probably sell me if the price was high enough," said Random suddenly (or Randomly).

"Yeah, probably," said Zaphod, trying to shut her down. It didn't work.

"Aren't you going to defend her? She's YOUR girlfriend," said Random.

"True," said Zaphod.

"'True' what?" said Random, "'True' she's your girlfriend? 'True' you'll defend her?"

"Yes," said Zaphod, putting on a pair of his peril-sensitive sunglasses. He was surprised the lenses weren't black. This situation seemed pretty perilous to him.

"'Yes' what?" said Random.

"'Yes' I would like a drink right about now," said Zaphod, "Now will you prasc it?"

"Shut up yourself," said Random, equally as rudely.

"Listen, kid," said Zaphod, looking over the top of his sunglasses, even though one of his heads wasn't wearing any sunglasses and could see her perfectly well.

"I'm not a kid," said Random.

"Listen, not-a-kid," said Zaphod, "I'm in charge here, okay? So you have to shut up because you're starting to give me headaches."

"What, is this a dictatorship?" said Random.

"Yes," said Zaphod, pleased that she'd grasped it so quickly. He wouldn't have expected it from a kid of Arthur's.

"What happened to all your speeches on peace and free love?" said Random.

"They only apply to me, baby."

"The speeches, or the…"

"Prasc it!"

Only HE was allowed to question everything, Zaphod thought angrily. Then along comes this girl who thinks her generation is better than his.

"I used to idolise you," said Random, "But now I can see you're just a hypocrite."

"You know what?" said Zaphod angrily, "You're totally uncool."

"Ditto," said Random.

"Right, that's it!" said Zaphod. He stomped over to the door, opened it, stomped out, and slammed the door.

"Hey Clap," he shouted, "Clap!" Clap ran up.

"What? Need me to kill someone again?"

"Not exactly. I…hey, nice shirts."

"Thanks."

"Yeah, so, I need you to do the same thing you're doing to Ford, to Random."

"Okay, awesome."

"Oh, and don't tell Trillian."

"It's a deal," said Clap. She pressed herself beside the doorway to wait until Random came out. Zaphod ran away, suppressing his urge to giggle in case any hot girls were around. Ford walked past.

"Oh, hey Clap," he said, "Are you sure you won't go out with me?"

"It's a lot more fun playing pranks on you," said Clap.

"Oh well," said Ford. He was asking all of his prospective partners over again, just in case they'd changed their minds. He walked until he came to Andema's room, then walked in, as the door was open.

"What do you mean by eraser?" said Andema.

"Eraser bounces down the road," said Phonebooth, pointing at a pylon. She seemed to have entirely figured out the phrase 'what do you mean' in English. People certainly said it to her enough.

"Hi," said Ford.

"Ahhhhh!" screamed Phonebooth, "Fishing is not allowed!"

"The pencil takes a ride on the bicycle," said Ford reasonably, "There are no eggs."

"Free fish," said Phonebooth. She didn't seem to believe him.

"Andema," said Ford, "Will you…"

"No," said Andema, "If you go out with rebel scientist trash, you get boycotted. So…HA!" She turned away from Ford and returned to trying to understand Jubanese. Ford sighed again.

"Will you at least tell me where Malea is?" he said.

"Sick bay," said Andema.

"At least tell free food for Malea?" said Phonebooth in shock.

"Oh damn," said Ford, and left, for the sick bay.

Malea was using a pair of tweezers to work the bullet out of her foot. It was a painful process.

"Hello," said Ford, "Want to be my girlphriend again?"

"No," said Malea. She finally managed to remove the bullet, and placed it beside her.

"Why not?"

"Well, because Phred is adorable."

"I know that," said Ford, "but…" He trailed off, seemed to think of something, then left. Malea shrugged, then began to cover her foot in regeneration cream.

Arthur fed his fish another chip. Ford was right, it did seem to enjoy them. He suddenly decided that now would be a good time to visit Trillian. Carefully unlocking his door, he walked out.

Several people tackled him, pinning him to the floor.

"Ow," said Arthur, "That was random."

"Not just me," said Random, "Way to accuse me."

"But you were one of the people…" said Arthur.

"Please, don't give me crap," said Random, "I had a perfectly valid reason."

"Which was…?"

"I don't want to talk about it, it's too personal."

"But how do I know it's valid, then?"

"I asked you not to give me crap," said Random moodily.

"Okay…" said Arthur, "Who else jumped on me? Tell me why while I find out if anything's broken."

"I thought you were Ford," said Clap, sitting cross-legged beside him.

"Why would Ford be in my locked room," said Arthur, and instantly regretted asking.

"You never know," said Clap.

"Arthur with gum on paper," said Phonebooth, then slowly puzzled out a phrase in English, "I was saving you from Ford." She grinned, snakelike.

"Why?" said Arthur.

"Panicked squirrel!" said Phonebooth, forgetting to speak in English in her distress, "Ford bounces off sticky walls!"

"I do not!" said Ford.

"Dancing pigeons," said Phonebooth firmly, "Orange bug makes 'Please pass the salt'."

"That's it!" said Ford, finally offended, "These trousers are too small!" Phonebooth gasped, insulted, and stormed off.

"I understood little of that," said Arthur, "What about you Ford?"

"I speak Jubanese," said Ford.

"No, I know that," said Arthur, "I want to know why you tackled me."

"I just wanted a hug."

"Oh…"

"See?" said Clap, "My theory holds out."

"I asked Phred out, but he apparently likes Malea," said Ford, "Go figure."

"I have to get back to work," said Clap, and pied Ford and Random in the face.

"I think I'll go now…" said Arthur, standing up, "Clap, would you consider tackling others when they try to tackle me?"

"I'll consider it," said Clap, obviously not considering it at all. Arthur walked away, up to the control room.

"Improbability of 31,165,431 to 1 and rising," said Trillian.

"How are you doing?" said Arthur.

"Fine," said Trillian, "Improbability of 68,166,548 to 1."

"Isn't it dangerous to run the Improbability Drive when everyone isn't in the Improbability-proof control cabin?" said Arthur.

"It hasn't bothered me before," said Trillian.

"That's not what I meant, really," said Arthur.

"Nobody's died, have they," said Trillian, "It's totally harmless. Improbability of 94, 287,252 to 1 and rising."

"Not exactly," said Arthur, then decided to give up the argument. "So, is this boring?" he said, hoping to generate a conversation.

"It's mostly calming," said Trillian, "It cuts down on stress. Improbability of 4,481,986,789 to one and rising."

"Um, Trillian," said Arthur, "If Zaphod hadn't come to that party, would you have gone with me?"

"Maybe," said Trillian, "There's an enormous improbability in your room. You'd better check it out."

"Oh…" said Arthur, "I was just wondering, because, you see…"

"Or it might evolve into something worse," said Trillian.

"Yes, right…" said Arthur, sighing, and left for his room.

When he got to it, and tried to enter, he found that the door was locked. Arthur kicked the door in disgust.

"I used to be part of Frankie's entourage," said a passing dead man.

"Gah," said Arthur, pummelling the door to little effect.

"Do you want i…Arthur!" said Fenchurch, opening the door.

"Fenchurch!" said Arthur, "Why…what…?"

"I don't know," said Fenchurch. A few minutes went by.

"Fenchurch!" said Arthur.

"Do you want to come in?" said Fenchurch.

"Well, it is actually my roo…I mea…I…yes."

Arthur went in.

"Are you tired?" said Ford. Clap pied him again.

"No, damnit! My eyes are cold blue slits! It's supposed to be menacing!"

"Because you look tired."

"I'm being actiony! You're really annoying me."

"Maybe you should get more rest," said Ford.

"Ahh! You're making me angry enough to squeeze your chicken."

"I don't have any chickens."

"Angry enough to squeeze your chickens if you had any," Clap amended.

"Not the chickens!"

"You know, Ford, it's times like these I'm reminded of my boot potting shed at home."

"It's only natural."

"What's a boot potting shed?" asked Random, still mopping pie off of her face.

"A shed where you pot boots," said Ford.

"And what does that have to do with squeezing chickens?"

"If you don't know, you'll never know," said Clap.

"I think you're insane," said Random.

"I had a bad experience as a teenager," said Clap, "So bad that I can't remember anything that happened before it."

"Ford?" came Trillian's voice over the intercom, "Can you check on Arthur? I sent him out to investigate a large improbability in his room, and he hasn't reported back. He won't even answer when I try to call him."

"I'll do it!" said Clap. She walked over to Arthur's room, opened the door, and looked in. Then, she closed the door and walked over to the speaker.

"It's fine," she said, "He's just having sex."

"Oh…" said Trillian.

"Woo!" said Ford, "Way to go Arthur! I almost thought he didn't have a sex life at all! He sure proved me wrong. I'd go and watch, except that he'd probably kick me out. Earth people are so weird."

"You're so… weirder," said Random.

"Your dad's having sex," said Ford matter-of-factly.

"Gggross," said Random. She ate some pie.

In some secluded room, Zaphod turned on his communicationary vid-screen.

"Hey baby," he said. The girl looking back was impressed by the amount of graham crackers he'd managed to shove up his noses.

Then Random happened. She turned it off.

"You stole my random event at the end of every story!" yelled Zaphod.

"You mean Random event," said Random.

"Arrrrgh!" said Zaphod.

He was not very happy.

THE END

Look up a cation. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.

Ford putting fish with vinegar and chips in Arthur's ear came from the BBC HitchHiker's Guide website. There's a quiz, and one question says something like: What are Babel fish for? And Penny read two of the answers that said: "It goes well with chips and vinegar" and, "It translates languages", and she thought it said, "It translates well with chips and vinegar. Thus was born the mutated ideal for the Babel fish.

Also, Penny was actually wearing that tank-top thing, same as Clap, and I said basically what Malea said. Except that I felt bad after, so I let her shoot me in the story.

Random, when she pounces on Arthur, is a parody of one of my friends. Um, sorry one-of-my-friends. But you'll probably never read this anyway, so, neh. You really got on my nerves when you said that, and I think you deserve this lampooning, for it.

So, here begins the series of stories where I thought emphasising Ford as bisexual was funny. You can read my thoughts on the subject in my LiveJournal, if you like. But, otherwise, all of you Ford/Arthur slashers can have fun, I guess. I don't agree with you, but I think Ford does.

Penny, thank you forever for inventing the Jubanese. They're a licence to be wacky. Also, gggross either belongs to Penny, or her ex-boyfriend. Or he stole it from someone, I dunno.

By the way, communicationary is SO a word, damn it!

Saith Rayse: I DID use the hints and I STILL can't beat it! And Ford was embarrassed because his group of rebels doesn't accept 'F's, only 'PH's. And the F was drawn with a large black marker, not an eggbeater. I hate to think how Clap would draw an F on his forehead with an eggbeater. Eugh. Ooh, are you actually going to Scotland? If so, you lucky duck! I've never even been out of North America. Meaning, I've only been around Canada, and a few trips to Disney World. Heck, I haven't even been to New York.

Cap'n Scoff: Isn't having a werewolf as an alter ego sort of awkward? Don't angry villagers ever show up as your door with pitchforks, torches, and guns with silver bullets in them? Not to mention holy water. Canada IS a wonderful place. Why, only the other day, I was talking to Colin Mocherie AND Mike Myers, and we all agreed with you. Now if I can just get the Barenaked Ladies to stop inviting me to their crazy parties…Feel free to be a rebel scientist. Just be careful when you spraypaint SULPHUR on the walls. And for Murphy's sake, don't pour water on potassium blocks in crowded areas.

Kyre-JMK-Storm Dragon: Wicked! I could never get my teacher to do it, because it was summer, or something. She did it for her previous class… Bah. I never really got to see fiery explosions.

Guardian Demon: You rock my socks. Seriously. You know about Howl, and now Firefly! And…I probably couldn't do that crossover, no matter how much I love crossovers. I could NEVER get the Firefly crew to be in character. However, if I can do it as a role-play with Marion…I'll see. Marion is like the world's foremost expert on Firefly. By the way, have you seen Serenity?

Jimmy the Gothic Egg: Thanks muchly. You are very cool also.

BeatlesLover: Fab, huh? Phab… The Phab Phour. Snerk. Wow, the fun. Um…None of them have F's in their names, so I can't have any more fun in that direction. And, yeah, the Mitsubishi Guts is real. It was off some website. That said, I have no idea how Arthur knows about it. And…wait… Does \m/ stand for devil-fingers, or whatever you call it? Well, I agree totally. These stories are definitely, um, the incarnation of Satan on the internet. Hooray for Murdoc!

DarkLightedAngel: Oh, THE BEGINNING. Such a funny way to end stories.

nasamuffin: I agree with everything that you said, except for one thing. Believe, me, you are not the only Firefly geek in the world. Just read the review…page.

LandUnderWave: Several reasons why you are awesome. 1. Your name DOES come from the Wee Free Men series by Terry Pratchett. 2. You like HitchHiker's Guide as evidenced by you reading fanfiction from it. 3. You like Tamora Pierce. 4. You listen to The Beatles. I can't believe I'm the first person to figure it out. I feel special. Thanks, Lily Wave.

Lily Knotwise: I agree. And, yes! Woo! Coldplay concert! Yay! Maybe I'll have to make the Guide Gang go to one, just to recount the experience, I don't know. Yay, Coldplay!

MaidM: Oh, Jayne. And of course you can still quote Firefly. It's your job. You can also quote Buffy, Angel, Farscape, Lost, Doctor Who, and everything else you've memorised. I assume that means that I can also still name songs and the artist who performs them instantaneously. We all have our little skills we never lose. Yours is kinda more useful than mine is, though.

Fellowship of the Band Geeks: I'm stuck after the Improbability Drive screws everything up, or something, and Arthur gets stuck in the dark, and then I can't figure out what to do.

The best Christmas gift of all this year will be getting to see the first episode of the new season of Doctor Who.

Doctor Who is like my HitchHiker's Guide replacement. I desperately want to find out which episodes were written by Douglas Adams.

And, even though the new doctor will probably have a new catch phrase…

Fantastic!