Chapter Text
Ford is seated at his desk, and for the past two or threee hours he's been quietly reading through an old leather bound book, one of many in his vast collection, occasionally pulling away to note something down into the stack of loose papers he calls his research.
You are seated on your own chair, just a little bit left of him, bored with your own work and currently resisting the urge to fiddle with the chunky buttons on the blinking machinery. Most of the machines don't actually do anything anymore, they just flicker funky colours and show some readings, but Ford is adamant no one mess with them.
Normally, you'd have no problem just sitting around, enjoying his silent company while you both get on your work, but being stuck in a basement's gotten on your nerves today, and you're kinda hoping to take Ford out to eat.
You try to get his attention by calling his name, and then by claiming that you're messing with his equipment, but both attempts are met with non-commital grunts and more furious scribbling, and so you end up standing from your chair and resort to smacking him on the head. Lightly, of course.
That pulled him out of his trance, effectively too. Stanford immediately turned around to look at you, or well, glare at you.
,,Why would do that?" he wrinkles his nose in confusion, reaching up to rub the sore spot at the back of his head.
,,Get up, we're going out," you've already walked back to the chair you just spent two hours swirling in, and pulled the coat off the backrest.
Ford frowns ,,You don't need to hit me to tell me that,"
,,I said your name like ten times, didn't work,"
,,Yeesh. I'm sorry," Ford says, still a bit sharp, but his frustration at your bold approach is dissolving by now ,,I'm busy,"
,,Not anymore. I'm taking you out to eat,"
Ford huffs, and for a while you're worried you might have to do some convincing to tear him away from his work, but thankfully, he doesn't put up a fight ,,Well, I am pretty hungry,"
,,No shit," you turn back to your desk and start to hastily organize your work into a few messy piles as you speak ,,Do you feel like hitting the diner, or something different? More fancy, maybe?"
Ford makes this long 'uhhhh' sound to indicate that he's giving it a thought, but after a while he simply shrugs ,,I don't mind either. You choose,"
,,Fine. There's this mexican place just at the edge of town,"
,,There is?" Ford raises an eyebrow.
,,Yeah. I've never been there before but your brother said the food's great,"
,,I don't know if I'd take Stan's food preferences into consideration when pocking a restaurant. I once watched him happily eat a six day old fish pie," Ford wrinkled his nose, but stood up nonetheless, glancing back at his notes and briefly wondering if he should take them along. He decides to grab the most recent page and folds it into the notepad he carries in his coat's pocket.
,,Don't act all high and mighty. I once watched you take a bite of a piece of chalk, and was horrified to watch you chew it up and swallow,"
Ford adjusts his glasses, and gets a little too defensive; ,,That was - okay, I was conducting an experiment,"
,,Sure, man, sure," you give him a dismissive wave, fairly sure there never was any experiment involving eating chalk, not that it would excuse the action if there were. You turn on your heel ,,Let's go, I'll drive,"
Ford follows you into the cage elevator, cringing when it rattles upon starting. His eyes quickly run across the beat-down interior, and he rests one hand on the wooden doorway, rubbing his thumb over the peeling paint ,,I need to fix this up someday,"
,,You say that, like, every single time we use the elevator, you know,"
,,I like to think that one day I'll actually mean it," Ford says, and right afterwards the elevator rattles at its last stop. He pulls back the caged doors and steps out into the stairwell.
,,Do you even know how to fix elevators?"
,,Of course I know how to fix elevators. I spend a significant amount of time practicing that skill in the elevator dimension," Ford scoffs like it's obvious, taking two stairs at once.
You never know if he's serious when he says stuff like that.
,,Yeah?" a smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you imagine Ford struggling with some heavy, difficult machinery ,,That's kinda sexy,"
Ford hums, a grin splitting his face ,,Really?"
You smack him on the shoulder ,,Don't let it get into your head,"
In the gift shop, Ford pulls out the house keys out of his pocket, shaking them a couple of times until he finds the right key. The gift shop is dark and eerie after closing, the sound of the bell ringing as the door opens far too loud for your liking.
You skip off the porch and get to your car, sitting down behind the wheel while Ford contentedly lowered himself into the passanger's seat. He still hasn't gotten quite the hang of Earth vehicles, the lack of certain buttons and the existance of others confusing his mind, which has been set to mega-complicated space crafts for the past few decades. But he's pretty content being given rides.
Pulling out of the make-shift parking lot, the back lights of your car blink out a couple of times before they come back on. Ford claims that's the magnetic interference from the crashed space ship, which would be more preferable to the truth you believe in, which is that your car's just a little busted.
,,Wanna choose the music?" you ask once you're gaining speed on the dirt road.
,,For such a short drive?"
,,Then just turn the radio on,"
,,Fine..." Ford pushes the nearest large button in an attempt to turn the radio on, but ends up ejecting the CD slot by accident. He looks at you, and concludes that since you haven't looked, you must have not noticed his mistake, and so he discreetly pushes it back inside, and rather tries the button on the right side, which makes the car errupt with radio static.
You groan, unpleasantly surprised ,,Ugh, the signal's real bad out here. Try to fiddle with it a couple of times, it usually finds a station after a couple of turns,"
Ford starts to switch through radio stations in an attempt to find a working one, fiddling with the buttons just as you told him to, but all that comes out is either static or disembodied words that are definitely not coming from any real station ,,I don't think you're catching anything,"
,,Eh, just turn it off. There's some stuff in the glove box you can play,"
Ford gladly shuts down the static, washing the car in silence, and opens up the flimsy glove department. Out spill some miscellaneous papers and envelopes, but Ford pushes the mess aside to reach for the CD's, most of which are dutifully stored inside of clear cases, for protection's sake.
,,There should be some oldies in there. Stuff you should know,"
,,Oldies," Ford repeats mockingly ,,I'm not as out of touch as you think I am, you know. I am aware of modern music,"
,,Yeah? Name one modern artist,"
,,Uh," Ford blinks in thought ,,That one boy band that lives in the woods,"
You laugh, turning your head to look at him, just briefly, to see whether he's actually serious ,,Man, what the hell are you talking about?"
,,There is a group of genetically engineered boy band members living in the woods around the house," Ford explains casually ,,Sometimes they try to eat our trash. I think they're called... Several Times?"
,,There is a band called Sev'ral Timez, sure, but last time I heard they're not living off the grid in the woods. I think they have a Europe tour this summer, actually,"
,,I said they're genetically engineered. The ones in Europe are most like the newest batch of clones,"
,,Well, that's insane, and... probably true," you tap the steering wheel with your finger, glancing at the CD Ford was examining currently. You are about halfway there, but it wouldn't hurt to get two minutes of music ,,Did you choose anything to play?"
Ford pushes up his glasses and flips around the flimsy case in his hand, trying to find out where it opens ,,I can try this one,"
,,What's it say?"
Ford puts it into the CD slot first, and answers later; ,,It's unmarked,"
The old radio whirs a couple of times, and then a techno song starts to play quietly. You recognize it, but only as something you've heard before, unable to remember the name but confident that you could get close enough with a guess. It's probably something stupid, either something named to 'galaxy of the eye' or alternatively 'party into the night' - there's not really a middle ground with these kinds of songs.
,,Oh, that's not so bad," Ford leans back into his seat, scooping up the CD cases he picked out and placing them back into the glove box.
,,You have weird taste in music, man,"
Ford rolls his eyes, with very little heat behind the action, and as he closes up the glove box, he sighs and reminisces; ,,It reminds me of a band I liked in dimension 9DK,"
,,Which dimension was that?"
,,The one that had perfect jello,"
You laugh, taking a turn out of town - the light is a bit lower out here, so you slow down a bit as well ,,I never know if you're serious when you say stuff like that,"
,,I mean it. Perfect jello," Ford grins ,,The consistency was carefully curated through several natural chemical processes. They really had it figured out,"
It might be because he was already hungry, but the memory of that soft, squishy, colour changing jello is making his mouth water already.
,,Techno music and jello? Must have been one happy dimension,"
You lean in a bit, not that it would help you to see better through the windshield but you like to pretend it does, and your attention is quickly grabbed by the building down the road ,,Look - that's the place,"
In short distance, a large sign in the shape of a sombrero towered over a small building perched on top of a fairly steep, almost cliff-like hill. A strange place for a small mexican restaurant, but by now you're pretty used to the strangeness of the locals and their life choices.
Ford pushes up his glasses, and also leans forwards to see better ,,Huh, I didn't realize they made this building a mexican restaurant. It used to be a sled shop back in the 80s. Or was that the building on the other end of the town?"
Ford is thrown back gently against his seat as you abruptly pull into the small lot in front and slide into one of the many parking spots.
You both reach for the off switch on the radio, hands brushing suggestively, and even though neither of you acknowledge it, it still sends a little sparkle down your spine. Ford ends up being the one who gets to switch the radio off.
,,Did you see that?" you grin at him as you get out, giving him a little eye-brow wiggle over the roof of the car ,,That was romantic. Two lovers, brushing hands,"
,,Hm, I didn't know you were such an airhead," Ford's tone is light-hearted and joke-y.
,,I'm a romantic, Ford," you skip onto the curb and meet Ford near the front of the car ,,You should try it, sometimes,"
,,I can be romantic," Ford bumps his shoulder into yours and tightly grabs your hand.
,,See?" he lifts your intertwined hands up to the level of your shoulder ,,Romantic,"
You give his hand a squeeze, delighted in the way his finegers fit besides yours, eloping them completely. You smirk at Ford ,,It's a good start,"
,,A start?" Ford feigns outrage ,,You're so difficult sometimes,"
Ford doesn't let go of your hand as he leads you over to the restaurant, holding onto it as he pushes open the glass doors. He winces subtly at the loud sound of the bell above ringing in response, but doesn't give any other reaction.
The restaurant is not very well lit but each table has its own electric candle that helps the dim situation, and there aren't that many people, just one waitress and as of customers, there was a man that looked too much like a trucker to not be one, and a pair of college-age kids tucked in the corner, gathering their strength to continue whatever roadtrip their on.
You and Ford settle behind one of the tables next to a window, fairly far from the other customers and close enough to the kitchen.
,,It's very quiet in here," Ford remarks once you're seated opposite each other, his eyes flicking carefully across the room. An old habit.
,,Yeah," you agree, also looking around, but without the sharpness that Ford has ,,But that's good, right? You hate noisy places,"
,,Yes. I just hope the food is good,"
,,You've pumped yourself up with the perfect jello talk?"
,,Yes, indeed. This better the best mexican restaurant in the multiverse,"
,,Hm, that might be a little too pumped, to be honest,"