Categories > Books > Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Aerial
2 ReviewsArthur/Fenchurch. This is their version of an afterglow.
Aerial
a giftfic & 15minuteficlets presentation
by Rue (rue@twoflower.net)
The air was lovely. There was just something about it -- the way one could throw yourself at the ground and miss, and it just felt perfect. Being Up There In It All, as opposed to Down There On The Ground and unaware of what was going on. A savory experience that simply meant the world to them.
There were so many things to learn from the sky. Arthur Dent had made friends with quite a few birds, and though they never had anything much to really talk about except what they'd eaten and the weather and the thermals they caught, the first two reminded him of his friends on the ground in the first place, and the last one he could relate to, having recently learned the joy of thermals.
However, there was another new joy Arthur had learned, and this one was not an it but a she, and her name was Fenchurch. Fenny. Teaching her to fly had been the best thing he'd ever done.
"Have fun, then?" asked Arthur, running a finger through the blonde curls that were Fenchurch's hair, her head on his shoulder, basking in the afterglow ... of flying.
Fenchurch giggled. "It was amazing - it always is, you know."
She wriggled her toes. Fenchurch never wore shoes, it was a habit she had picked up when she first became a ditzy hippie -- which is when she was very young, of course -- and remained that way.
"Sometime," said Fenchurch, after a while, "we should fly by Heathrow, and land in the hangar, and just stay there and cuddle and kiss and talk and just be us ...and see who looks. See if anyone's confused."
By people landing in a hangar, Arthur wondered? Who wouldn't be?
But then again, the universe was confusing. And Fenchurch was confusing.
And there were many amazing things in the universe.
One of Arthur's favourites was definitely flying.
The other was Fenchurch.
a giftfic & 15minuteficlets presentation
by Rue (rue@twoflower.net)
The air was lovely. There was just something about it -- the way one could throw yourself at the ground and miss, and it just felt perfect. Being Up There In It All, as opposed to Down There On The Ground and unaware of what was going on. A savory experience that simply meant the world to them.
There were so many things to learn from the sky. Arthur Dent had made friends with quite a few birds, and though they never had anything much to really talk about except what they'd eaten and the weather and the thermals they caught, the first two reminded him of his friends on the ground in the first place, and the last one he could relate to, having recently learned the joy of thermals.
However, there was another new joy Arthur had learned, and this one was not an it but a she, and her name was Fenchurch. Fenny. Teaching her to fly had been the best thing he'd ever done.
"Have fun, then?" asked Arthur, running a finger through the blonde curls that were Fenchurch's hair, her head on his shoulder, basking in the afterglow ... of flying.
Fenchurch giggled. "It was amazing - it always is, you know."
She wriggled her toes. Fenchurch never wore shoes, it was a habit she had picked up when she first became a ditzy hippie -- which is when she was very young, of course -- and remained that way.
"Sometime," said Fenchurch, after a while, "we should fly by Heathrow, and land in the hangar, and just stay there and cuddle and kiss and talk and just be us ...and see who looks. See if anyone's confused."
By people landing in a hangar, Arthur wondered? Who wouldn't be?
But then again, the universe was confusing. And Fenchurch was confusing.
And there were many amazing things in the universe.
One of Arthur's favourites was definitely flying.
The other was Fenchurch.
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