Stan places a fry next to one of Ford's and then Ford asks that question and the fort will have to fend for itself for a while. Susan - because she really is a doll, Ford was right, Stan likes her - doesn't push it when Stan tells her he doesn't want any coffee, although he kind of does want some, a little. She just backs off with a little wink at them and goes to do whatever it is she's doing back there.
Then Stan sits back, rubbing his palms up and down over his knees. He could pretend, with that interruption, that Ford never asked, and he does think about it. He looks up at Ford, takes a breath, and looks back down. He could say yeah, too, and he really fuckin' wants to.
He doesn't know what to say, how to decide, so he doesn't. He just opens his mouth and lets whatever comes out come out.
"I missed you so damn bad, you know that? And I kept thinkin' about your, your degrees and your fancy college and your grant money and whatever kinda' place you set yourself up in, even when it got bad and I needed to hear your voice for just half a second, even then I kept thinkin' about it, and all that time you-" Stan finally looks up at Ford when he waves at him, gesturing to his face, the back of his head, pretty much at all of him. "You needed me even more than I needed you."
"Ha," he murmurs, eyes sliding right off of Ford and onto his plate. He takes a fry and stabs it into one corner of their little fort, knocking it half over. "All that time, it was on me. Wouldn't you fuckin' know it."
"But I'm here now." That dark, low tone gone as suddenly as it came, replaced by the look on his face as he looks up at Ford again, a look a little something like hope, or maybe fear. "I'm here and you're here and we're, ya' know, we're here together. So, I mean, yeah. A-aren't they? Don't you- I mean, ain't this- This is how you want things to, to be, right?"
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Then Stan sits back, rubbing his palms up and down over his knees. He could pretend, with that interruption, that Ford never asked, and he does think about it. He looks up at Ford, takes a breath, and looks back down. He could say yeah, too, and he really fuckin' wants to.
He doesn't know what to say, how to decide, so he doesn't. He just opens his mouth and lets whatever comes out come out.
"I missed you so damn bad, you know that? And I kept thinkin' about your, your degrees and your fancy college and your grant money and whatever kinda' place you set yourself up in, even when it got bad and I needed to hear your voice for just half a second, even then I kept thinkin' about it, and all that time you-" Stan finally looks up at Ford when he waves at him, gesturing to his face, the back of his head, pretty much at all of him. "You needed me even more than I needed you."
"Ha," he murmurs, eyes sliding right off of Ford and onto his plate. He takes a fry and stabs it into one corner of their little fort, knocking it half over. "All that time, it was on me. Wouldn't you fuckin' know it."
"But I'm here now." That dark, low tone gone as suddenly as it came, replaced by the look on his face as he looks up at Ford again, a look a little something like hope, or maybe fear. "I'm here and you're here and we're, ya' know, we're here together. So, I mean, yeah. A-aren't they? Don't you- I mean, ain't this- This is how you want things to, to be, right?"