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Arthur was marginally horrified by the building Ford wanted to go into. He was hungry and wanted lunch and Ford had promised that lunch could be purchased in the building, but it reminded Arthur of nothing more than the sort of building where harassed, unpleasant people told you that it was your own bloody fault that you were unemployed and the government had decided that you were too well nourished, seeing as you had the energy to drag yourself in and had, accordingly, decided to cut your benefits. Except more so. He wasn't really sure he wanted to wanted to eat anything produced in such a monstrosity. He stood back as a girl came out of the building and swayed her way past them.
Arthur stared disbelievingly at the expression on Ford's face as he looked at the girl strolling down the street. He knew exactly what that expression was because it was the same one he'd been carefully keeping off his face. The girl had a very pretty face and - other parts, and the view from the back wasn't half bad either, but Arthur had certain rather firmly held ideas about loyalty and he was rather annoyed that Ford appeared to be intent on doing the opposite to just about everything Arthur thought right.
"Ford!" he said, scandalised.
"Yes?" Ford said, leaning out dangerously far to get a better view of the retreating girl, and narrowly avoiding having his head taken off by a speeding hover car. Arthur pulled him to safety by his satchel's strap.
"You're looking at that girl!"
"Yes."
"You're looking at her!"
Ford stopped looking at the girl, and looked at Arthur blankly instead. Arthur waved a hand around in a manner designed to illustrate his feelings on the matter.
"I thought that we - er, we -"
Ford continued looking at him blankly. Arthur gave up and stopped waving his hand around. Ford looked at him a while longer. The blank look began to fade. Arthur quickly looked into the middle distance and began to whistle tunelessly in a carefree manner. What fascinating architecture this planet had. Yes, really quite magnificent. Clearly he had nothing on his mind other than an aesthetic appreciation of civic design. Why even the galactic dole-office-restaurant was better on a second viewing. He sneaked a look back. Ford had a distinctly calculating expression on his face.
"Arthur."
Arthur pretended he hadn't heard and began to whistle tunes from films. He stopped when he realised he was halfway through Do not Forsake Me, Oh My Darling.
"Arthur."
"Hmm?" Arthur said, inwardly dismayed that the calculating expression had been replaced by a smirk.
"You're jealous."
"Don't be silly."
"You're jealous," Ford repeated, grinning like a madman.
"No," Arthur said firmly.
Ford grinned some more.
"I just thought that we, er, were friends," Arthur said.
"We are. Don't be jealous - let's go ask her out."
"Ford!" Arthur gasped. "I - no. Let's not."
A confused look flitted across Ford's face. He frowned in irritation, then his face suddenly cleared and he grinned again.
"You really are jealous. You're emotionally attached to me, aren't you?"
Arthur stared back into the middle distance. He rather wished the girl was still in view.
"You are," Ford said. "You want flowers and chocolates and stylised images of internal organs and monogamy, don't you?"
"I'm not in love with you, if that's what you're saying," Arthur snapped.
"That's the English phrase. Yes, you're in love with me," Ford said cheerfully.
Arthur wished with all his heart for a nice cup of tea. And the Earth back. And a time when as far as he knew all his friends were human.
"Yes, well. I'll thank you not to make fun of me, just this once," he said finally.
"All right," Ford said. "I like you too, you know. I'll try to find some chocolate."
He gave Arthur a more lunatic smile than usual.
"My culture isn't much on monogamy, though. But flowers, I can do flowers. And we can go out to a concert if you like."
Arthur gaped at him.
"Are you asking me to go on a date? Why? We're already sleeping together."
"I'm being nice," Ford said. "I'm being romantic. That's what you want, right?"
Arthur paused, then nodded. Ford smirked up at him as if he'd just worked out everything there was to know about Arthur, and elbowed him hard.
"I like you," he said, laughing.
Arthur looked at him in sudden dawning suspicion.
"What language are you speaking right this minute?" he asked.
"Praxibetel, why?" Ford said carelessly.
"These bloody babelfish give a literal translation, don't they?"
"Very literal. Why?"
"They don't give you cultural shades of meaning then, do they?"
Ford stopped smirking. Arthur pressed the advantage, glad to see there seemed to be an advantage to press.
"Say that in English, Ford."
"Er," Ford said, and stared into the middle distance.
Arthur tried a smirk of his own. While he was at it he grinned widely in an irritating manner at Ford, who began to go a colour that clashed rather badly with his hair.
"Stop staring at me," Ford snapped. "You know it makes me nervous."
"All right," Arthur said in a kind and condescending tone that he was sure would drive Ford crazy. "Was there a particular concert you wanted me to go to with you? And what kind of chocolates do you like?"
He put a proprietary arm around Ford's shoulders and patted him on the head for good measure.
Ford gave him a look that promised he'd pay for this later, but Arthur decided he was for once having too good a time to care.