Things have been... awkward with Stan, but they could be worse.
They could always be worse.
But they're still not great. Ford isn't a fan of that fact, but he's also not entirely sure to how to go about fixing it. As much as he loathes to admit to it, he doesn't know Stan right now. Not like he did when they were children, and not like he'd come to know Stan's older self in Deerington and Trench. Even in the case of the latter, the way Ford sees it is that the process of repairing their relationship had happened not because of any particular noteworthy effort on his part, but because Stan had wanted it to be repaired. His own contributions to the process had been, in his mind, minimal.
But he's at least aware that that particular way of thinking isn't helpful. Even if his best efforts still aren't very good, his family deserves them - because their own best efforts are what they always give him. It's with that thought in mind that he not only throws himself into his latest project, he also throws himself into the idea of seeking out Stan first thing when he wakes up on the 15th.
He does not, however, throw himself into the task of thinking of a proper greeting before hand, however. So when he runs into Stan he doesn't open up with anything like, say, 'Happy Birthday'. Instead he jumps right in with:
Stan is past the point of flinching and freezing like a deer in headlights when this happens suddenly, but getting used to the kids has still been easier than adjusting to Old Man Ford. And it doesn’t even really bother him anymore that he looks so much like Pa in really bad lighting. Totally nothing to do with that. It’s just weird.
It’s still weird. Also he doesn’t really know what day it is. Birthdays are something he hasn’t celebrated for awhile. In his brain it’s still winter in Fucksville, Oregon.
He smiles awkwardly. Standing in the hall.
“I’m uh. I’m cool. I’m good. How’s it hanging? Working on your…magicy-science stuff?”
Okay. Okay, the conversation is off to a good start! They're not immediately fighting (not that they have fought since Stan arrived) and neither of them has tried to bolt from the conversation. Stan even asks about Ford's work, which is enough to make Ford perk up in response. He's not sure what it means that Stan asks, but the fact that he does at all strikes him as a good thing.
"I have been, actually! I finished this just yesterday, in fact."
He dips a hand into his pocket and withdraws a little wooden box, then steps forward and offers it to Stan.
"Here."
If Stan opens it, he'll find what seems to be a gold compass inside, though there's no directions marked on the dial and the needle isn't pointing north. Ford doesn't bother to explain it yet - and he doesn't tell Stan why he made it.
( june ) for stan
They could always be worse.
But they're still not great. Ford isn't a fan of that fact, but he's also not entirely sure to how to go about fixing it. As much as he loathes to admit to it, he doesn't know Stan right now. Not like he did when they were children, and not like he'd come to know Stan's older self in Deerington and Trench. Even in the case of the latter, the way Ford sees it is that the process of repairing their relationship had happened not because of any particular noteworthy effort on his part, but because Stan had wanted it to be repaired. His own contributions to the process had been, in his mind, minimal.
But he's at least aware that that particular way of thinking isn't helpful. Even if his best efforts still aren't very good, his family deserves them - because their own best efforts are what they always give him. It's with that thought in mind that he not only throws himself into his latest project, he also throws himself into the idea of seeking out Stan first thing when he wakes up on the 15th.
He does not, however, throw himself into the task of thinking of a proper greeting before hand, however. So when he runs into Stan he doesn't open up with anything like, say, 'Happy Birthday'. Instead he jumps right in with:
"Stanley! How are you?"
no subject
It’s still weird. Also he doesn’t really know what day it is. Birthdays are something he hasn’t celebrated for awhile. In his brain it’s still winter in Fucksville, Oregon.
He smiles awkwardly. Standing in the hall.
“I’m uh. I’m cool. I’m good. How’s it hanging? Working on your…magicy-science stuff?”
no subject
"I have been, actually! I finished this just yesterday, in fact."
He dips a hand into his pocket and withdraws a little wooden box, then steps forward and offers it to Stan.
"Here."
If Stan opens it, he'll find what seems to be a gold compass inside, though there's no directions marked on the dial and the needle isn't pointing north. Ford doesn't bother to explain it yet - and he doesn't tell Stan why he made it.