Planto

“What the hell!?” Stan shouted, rolling his body away and taking some calming breath. “What are you, wanting to give me…?!”

“No, I don't want to give you a heart stroke, and luckily it shouldn't be it”, yet Ford was already reaching for Stan's wrist, holding one of his fingers over the pulse and keeping it there. “I beg your pardon”, he added with a mix of guilt and relief. “But one can never be too careful…”

“Right”, Stan lightly tapped his own chest where his heart still was beating a little too fast. “So, any reason you're back to watching me sleep? I didn't have any memory relapses, so…” he gasped with a sudden thought. “I mean I don't remember it, but that doesn't mean that didn't happen! Is that…?”

“No”, Ford shook his head and finally let go of Stan's wrist. “Your memory is fine. I just…” he looked away. “Actually, never mind. Forget I said anything”.

And that was Stan's cue to grab his glasses, put them on and observe his twin with extra attention. Immediately, he spotted all the warnings: ruffled hair was extra messy, eyebags were extra heavy. Despite all that being sort of usual for Ford who had lost any proper idea about sleep schedules (not like Stan was any better. But at least he managed to get to his bunk bed before falling asleep on the first vertical surface available, so that was a point to him and not Ford), today it looked much more prominent. There was this tenseness over the back and shoulders, and Ford's eyes lacked his recent excitement, but what was the most worrying? His fingers were still and curling tight on themselves. 

“Did you sleep at all?” Stan frowned. It didn't look like usual exhaustion, but he had to start somewhere. Ford didn't look hurt or fresh from fighting someone alone while Stan was still sleeping (they had talked about it, and Ford had promised to try and wake Stan next time). But without morning intake of coffee Stan's brain refused to provide more options.

“It doesn't matter,” Ford chuckled. “But because I know you'll just keep asking: I'm not hurt, Stan’o’War is in perfect condition and there's nothing for you to worry about.” He thought some more and groaned. “And of course saying that will make you worry.”

“You know me”, Stan grinned and started getting out of his bed. “If you won't tell me what's wrong, I'll just figure it out.”

It sounded like his twin wanted to say something else, but stopped himself at the last moment.

“I’ll make you breakfast”, he said instead.

That made Stan worry even more. Ford, remembering about breakfasts by himself? Now that was a big anomaly.

***

“That…!” Stan exclaimed while chewing, but was interrupted.

“Stop talking until you're done”, Ford hissed at him, ignoring his own mug filled with coffee. 

Stan nodded, not in mood to argue. He had much more important things to consider, mostly like an actually decent serving of eggs and bacon. Apparently, Stan's impression that Ford was a shitty cook was completely misplaced. Then again, the man had to survive somehow, not only for his fun and unfair interdimensional journey, but also while living in the Shack before that.

Unless he had found a magic tablecloth that could serve any food by a snap of fingers - knowing Ford it didn't sound impossible.

“That was good, thank you!” Stan finished with his plate and smiled. “Maybe I should delegate some cooking to you from now on?”

Ford sort of nodded, now actually paying attention to his coffee. “Maybe. We'll see”, he replied without much conviction in his voice.

Okay, maybe Ford just didn't like cooking. Whatever. Stan wouldn't offer it any time soon.

“So”, he offered a new conversation topic. “When are we arriving to Grundtown?”

“It's called Grundarfjörður and we're not going there today”, Ford took another gulp of coffee. “It can wait”.

Stan stared at his twin.

“Are you possessed?” after a minute of silence he tilted his head and frowned. Ford spat out his coffee in reply and started coughing.

“Not funny”, he groaned while punching his chest several times. “And I'm not possessed!”

“That's exactly what a possessed person would say”, Stan smirked, crossing his arms before him. “If you're really Sixer, prove it. What is the word we agreed on during our childhood to confirm it's really us?”

Ford rolled his eyes.

“There's none because we didn't think we'd need one”, he replied before heavily sighing. “That actually would've helped me so much. But maybe it wouldn't, not with a way he had a free reign in my mind”.

“Sorry”, Stan winced. He hated when they accidentally touched the demon topic, and at times it just was a complete accident that Sixer’s mind by association was leading him to his darkest memories.

But this time Stan probably should've thought before joking about possession. 

“Anyway”, he awkwardly laughed, watching Ford slowly shrugging off his somber recollection. “Yesterday you were all for us to hurry, and today you've changed your mind? Why so?”

Ford looked at his mug that was almost empty by now. “No reason. It can wait till tomorrow or after tomorrow or even never.”

“Right, and that doesn't sound suspicious”, Stan hummed. “Okay, so no Grundport, got it. What's for today in this case? Did you find another anomaly close by? Or did a miracle finally happen and you finally decided to catch on some sleep?”

To that Ford actually laughed and some of the tension left his posture.

“Maybe tomorrow”, he shook his head. “As for today - nothing. Just us, spending time together and resting. Not doing anything reckless or dangerous…”

“Then I'll check out the compressor if we have some free time…”

“No need”, Ford replied, slightly too sharper than Stan would've expected. “I’ll fix it myself. I already know what's ticking there. You… You should just rest. Read or maybe write that romance fiction you keep wanting to continue? Isn't it time for your Duchess to finally receive the long-awaited confession?”

“I shouldn't have told you that”, Stan groaned in irritation, ignoring for now how the idea sounded really tempting. “So, you really just… okay with us wasting a whole day with no research or exploring? Don't come running with complaints about how you suddenly got bored.”

Ford flinched but smiled. “Don't worry. Today is definitely not a day for me to get bored”.

“Now, what the hell does that mean?” Stan squinted in suspicion.

Ford laughed, but this time it sounded slightly hysterical. “Nothing, I'm just praying really hard to the Universe for us to finally have one calm day where nothing happens!”