Stan didn't know he was tense until he relaxes, but Stan's lucky again and the snicker that surprises its way out of his mouth helps him disguise his relief, lets him disguise the body language by leaning forward and nudging Ford's shoulder with his. "Okay, you definitely need some sleep."

And then, you know. Of course that dampens his spirits a little. Not a lot - not much could, now that he and Ford are - well, it'd be kind of stupid to jinx it by saying they're good, but now that they're something. Something better. But there's still the problem of Ford's dreams, the ones that drove him to do that whole... that whole head thing, that, in the first place and Stan goes right back to biting the inside of his lip, this time because he's thinking.

"Look, um, I might have something. I thought I uh-" And shit does he need some sleep too, because he was about half an inch from finishing that out with sold it all just now, "-used it up, but uh, if I did have something that'd make you sleep like a dead baby, would that work with the whole-"

He waggles his fingers around near the top of his own head. "-You know, extraterrestrial eating your brain while you sleep thing? Do prescriptions work on ancient evil? It'd at least give us time to think of something else."