Imagines and Preferences: Book 1

Lazy Day | Dirk Gently

This is hecka short oops

Summary: A lazy day with holistic detective Dirk Gently.

QOTP: What do you do on a lazy day?

Word Count: 499

It's your day off.

You're not sure about Dirk, though; he doesn't have a day off until he has no more cases to solve. Usually, though, he's got a whole pile. Too much do.

It's not that you never see him; you help out whenever you can (and it can get a bit crazy). And, sometimes you have to push him up just to get him up. He can't be bothered.

This is the reason you start to scold him when he doesn't get out of bed after his alarm goes off.

"Actually," he interrupts you, hitting the snooze button, "I don't have any cases."

Your eyes practically light up; you look like a kid on Christmas morning. "Really?"

"Yes, really," he replies, chuckling and pulling you closer. You bury your face in his shirt as he sighs contentedly.

For the next hour you lay in each other's arms, enjoying the warmth and the feeling of having nothing to do. It's relatively silent, save the outside noises and the time Dirk mumbled "I love you" into your hair.

Finally, your stomachs start rumbling and you have to get up.

////

You sit on the couch, watching morning cartoons with a bowl of cereal in your lap. Dirk sits a mug of tea on the coffee table in front of you, his own cup in his hands as he sits down.

You watch cartoons for the better part of an hour when suddenly, you whine, "I'm bored." This effectively scared Dirk, causing you to chuckle.

"Well, what do you want to do?" he asks.

You huff, your head on his chest and his arms around you. "I don't know." It's silent for a few minutes, then, you jump up. "I have an idea!" Immediately, you run down the hallway towards your shared bedroom.

Dirk waits for you to come back to the lounge, and when you do, you've got his banana-colored jacket on over your pajamas and you're leaning against the doorframe in a standing draw-me-like-one-of-your-french-girls pose.

He laughs, "What are you doing?"

"I'm you," you reply, waddling over to him. Before he can say anything, though, you gasp. "Wait! Wait! I have to complete the look!" you shout, running down the hallway to the bedroom.

When you come back a few minutes later, you're holding his tie out in front of you, waving it around. "I can't tie this," you say, your voice an octave higher. He chuckles, taking it from you and tying it around your neck.

"Are there... Are there tiny ice cream cones printed on this?" you ask, inspecting the aforementioned tie.

He brushes the shoulders of your (his) jacket, much like in a chic flick when the woman puts on the man's tie. "Yes," he says, matter-o-factly. "Yes, there are."