Oh, thank god Ford wasn't so sure he'd be able to dodge that bullet, but thankfully Stan doesn't press him for an actual answer. At least, not for now he doesn't - who knows if he'll bring the subject back up later on. If he does, well, that's a problem for Future Ford to deal with. For the time being, all he has to worry about is getting dressed and covering up any evidence of what happened the last time Bill decided to pay him a visit.
Or most of it, at least. He should have asked Stan to grab him a turtleneck, or something with a collar - unfortunately for them both, what Ford has in his hands is a t-shirt. One of the very few he owns. God, out of all the things Stan could have grabbed, how did he manage to find the one thing that doesn't cover his neck?
"I'm not a damsel in distress, Stan." There it is again, that fond, exasperated tone.
"And you're no knight in shining armor. More of a rogue, really. Probably the scoundrel subclass if we really want to get technical."
Why yes, yes that is a reference to DD&D, and no, Ford does not expect Stan to get it. He's just thinking out loud, trying to fill the silence with nonsense and filler because he just...doesn't like when things go quiet between them. It's intensely uncomfortable, listening to the silence whilst being painfully aware that there's countless things Stan wants to say to him, and vice versa.
Once dressed, Ford passes a towel over his damp hair one last time before tossing it carelessly into the hamper behind him. He doesn't bother trying to brush the mess on top of his head - he knows better than to even bother with it right now. It's not like there's anyone around he has to impress - he's fairly certain Stan's opinion of him can't sink much lower than it likely already has, considering everything that's happened.
"Also, for the record? I didn't faint."
Clearly this is a very important correction to make, which is why he punctuates the statement by lightly bopping Stan on the arm with the back of his hand.
no subject
Or most of it, at least. He should have asked Stan to grab him a turtleneck, or something with a collar - unfortunately for them both, what Ford has in his hands is a t-shirt. One of the very few he owns. God, out of all the things Stan could have grabbed, how did he manage to find the one thing that doesn't cover his neck?
"I'm not a damsel in distress, Stan." There it is again, that fond, exasperated tone.
"And you're no knight in shining armor. More of a rogue, really. Probably the scoundrel subclass if we really want to get technical."
Why yes, yes that is a reference to DD&D, and no, Ford does not expect Stan to get it. He's just thinking out loud, trying to fill the silence with nonsense and filler because he just...doesn't like when things go quiet between them. It's intensely uncomfortable, listening to the silence whilst being painfully aware that there's countless things Stan wants to say to him, and vice versa.
Once dressed, Ford passes a towel over his damp hair one last time before tossing it carelessly into the hamper behind him. He doesn't bother trying to brush the mess on top of his head - he knows better than to even bother with it right now. It's not like there's anyone around he has to impress - he's fairly certain Stan's opinion of him can't sink much lower than it likely already has, considering everything that's happened.
"Also, for the record? I didn't faint."
Clearly this is a very important correction to make, which is why he punctuates the statement by lightly bopping Stan on the arm with the back of his hand.