Had it been any other time, Ford would have meant that as a compliment. He would have spoken those words with fondness and amusement instead of snapping like an intimidated dog masking its fear with aggression. He might have sounded a little proud, even, proud of his morally-dubious yet undeniably talented brother who could probably break into Fort Knox with nothing but a pair of bolt cutters and a mouthful of liquid courage.
God, what Ford wouldn't give for a drink himself right about now.
Shaking his head, Ford roughs a hand through his hair and tries to banish that thought from his mind before it can take root. He's not a young thirty-something anymore; he can't afford to keep putting his liver through the wringer, and if he falls off the wagon again God only knows when he'll be able to climb back on it.
"...I'm going to check the charter." He says belatedly, his hand resting heavy on the handle of the cabin door. "If we don't get back on course, we won't make it to the next port until midnight."
It's a horrible excuse. The scrape with the Kraken didn't last long enough to cause any significant delay, and Stan knows it. Ford knows he knows it, but maybe if he gets real damn lucky his brother will take the obvious hint for what it is and just let it go.
Yeah. Ford doesn't need to be a genius to know the probability of that happening is abysmal.
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Had it been any other time, Ford would have meant that as a compliment. He would have spoken those words with fondness and amusement instead of snapping like an intimidated dog masking its fear with aggression. He might have sounded a little proud, even, proud of his morally-dubious yet undeniably talented brother who could probably break into Fort Knox with nothing but a pair of bolt cutters and a mouthful of liquid courage.
God, what Ford wouldn't give for a drink himself right about now.
Shaking his head, Ford roughs a hand through his hair and tries to banish that thought from his mind before it can take root. He's not a young thirty-something anymore; he can't afford to keep putting his liver through the wringer, and if he falls off the wagon again God only knows when he'll be able to climb back on it.
"...I'm going to check the charter." He says belatedly, his hand resting heavy on the handle of the cabin door. "If we don't get back on course, we won't make it to the next port until midnight."
It's a horrible excuse. The scrape with the Kraken didn't last long enough to cause any significant delay, and Stan knows it. Ford knows he knows it, but maybe if he gets real damn lucky his brother will take the obvious hint for what it is and just let it go.
Yeah. Ford doesn't need to be a genius to know the probability of that happening is abysmal.