Work Text:
"You forgot to carry over the derivative from three pages ago."
Ford sat up straight in his seat, the familiar voice flooding his brain. Over the shock, Ford felt relief, joy, excitement.
"Muse," Ford murmured aloud. "You startled me."
"I see that," Bill chuckled like a bell in his head. "You're too tired, Sixer, get some rest."
It had been almost a month since Bill had spoken with him, and Ford was staring to get worried that something had happened to his muse. The last conversation they had was surprisingly candid, personal, Bill had revealed more about his past than Ford had ever dared to ask. Ford had felt close to the mystical being, he had almost humanized himself. He missed his muse deeply.
Ford scribbled the reminder of the derivative in his notes and shut his book obediently. He leaned back in his chair, pulling his glasses off and rubbing his face.
"Will you be taking over my body?" Ford asked quietly in his head.
"Nah. I just wanted to see what you were up to. Calculating in circles, looks like. Amateur hour over here, huh?"
Ford chuckled. "In comparison to you, absolutely."
"Rookie mistake, but you're a quick learner, Sixer. You and I are destined to change history together."
Ford's heart soared at this, closing his eyes and trying to repress his smile. He split his lips and nodded. He didn't want to go to sleep right away, he had missed Bill too much.
"Is there anything you don't know?"
"Of course," Bill responded flippantly. "Nothing that could slow me down anyway."
"Care to share?"
Bill hesitated long enough that Ford thought he had disappeared. Ford kept his eyes closed and waited patiently.
"There might be something you could explain to me."
"Anything, muse," Ford vowed aloud. Bill allowed another obfuscating silence, as though a multidimensional, all-powerful being needed to collect his thoughts. Ford wondered what he could even begin to explain to Bill.
"I was mortal once, you know. Not for long, but. I had a stint."
"I wasn't aware of that," Ford murmured.
"I existed before the beginning of your known universe, one of the foundational dimensions… but it was destroyed, everyone but me."
"I remember," Ford says quietly, leaning over his desk, closing his eyes in something close to meditation.
"So… I get procreation, I was born with the instinct. But… attraction? That baffles me still."
Ford's eyes opened, his heart racing in his chest. He licked his lips. It was his turn to attempt to gather his thoughts. Of course, as a being with such a broad perspective, it might be fascinating to observe the cultural rituals of foreign mortals, especially one with vastly different norms…
"Sixer? Did I break you?" Bill laughed. Ford shook his head and leaned back in his chair again, throwing his head back.
"No, no, you…" Ford mumbled aloud. "I don't know how I didn't expect this from you. As a purely anthropological observation, I suppose our customs might seem… ornate."
"Ritualistic, even. Nonsensical. Especially when people pair without the expectation for procreation. I just don't see the point. I've been observing your dimension for millenia, so I understand the practice pretty well. But I'm still not sure I understand initial attraction at an individual level. Especially when it comes to homosexual interest."
Ford's cheeks flushed and he rubbed his face as he tried to gather himself. He swallowed roughly and tried to ignore the pulse in his neck.
"There are still many people in our society who don't understand… homosexual attraction. They see it as hedonistic or depravity for the pure act of pleasure. But I really don't think depravity is at the core of homosexual attraction."
"I might be able to understand it easier if that's what it was," Bill said thoughtfully. Ford tried to push his thoughts down, reorganize his brain and look at the situation objectively. Why was Bill asking about attraction? Had he never had this conversation with any other human before?
"Well… attraction is subjective. I think it comes down to a deeper level of partnership, where each individual party supports the other in becoming a fuller version of themselves. And I think that the act of procreation is a potential byproduct of that partnership, but not a necessary one. Humans are inherently communal by nature, so that attraction… can be…" Ford took a shuddering sigh and tried to shake his thoughts loose. The way he was describing this was too close for comfort.
"What are you attracted to, Fordsy?" Bill asked. Ford had been dreading this moment. Bill's voice, usually so shrill and goofy had softened to pure curiosity.
"Intelligence," Ford murmured aloud. "But I don't have… I don't have the best track record in the area of relationships, romantic or otherwise."
"I don't see why not. You meet the physical standards, you have a healthy streak of loyalty. And if someone is as attracted to intelligence as you are, wouldn't that be a good match?"
Ford laughed, completely blown over by the absurdity of the conversation. "I think it would be easier to build an inter-dimensional portal with an extraterrestrial being than to sort out why I'm unappealing as a mate. I have much better things to do with my time than to purchase flowers or worry what someone else wants for dinner."
Bill chuckled at this, and Ford smiled at making his muse chuckle. His heart was still racing, hoping that his subconscious thoughts would remain just out of Bill's perception. He didn't want to muddy up the relationship he had with his muse. It was enough that Ford's mind was devoted to him, he couldn't allow his body to distract from the bigger picture.
"Alright, alright. So attraction is an urge for a deeper partnership, one that seems to touch the… soul or whatever you mortals are calling it nowadays."
"Correct."
"So then, the physical urges follow that? Or do they precede it?"
Ford shifted in his rolling chair, staring hard at the scattered papers all over his oak desk, the yellow desk lamp casting heavy shadows on the walls around him. Ford tried not to think of Fiddleford, or the handful of women that he had been with during college. With his extra finger, Ford couldn't even count the number of sexual partners he'd had on one hand.
"Is that the question that breaks you?" Bill laughed. "Genius Stanford Pines can't answer a question about sexual attraction?"
"Again, I am not exactly practiced in—"
"So you haven't experienced—"
"I have!" Ford snapped at Bill, sitting up a little. "Oh… apologies, muse, I didn't mean to get short with you."
"I get that humans can be defensive about this kind of thing. Didn't take you to be so skittish about it."
Ford licked his lips and shifted again in his chair, his heart racing. He could feel himself reacting to the conversation, just having it with his muse at all was awakening dormant urges. Ford was so practiced at ignoring those physical feelings that he didn't have any mental defenses against them as they snuck up on him.
"I have physical urges, like any man. But… typically I'm able to clear it out of my system through an act of self-maintenance. I don't allow myself the distraction from my mind."
"I've seen people come undone through pleasure. It's almost a perfect harmony to seeing people coming undone through pain. I can understand why pain would undo someone, but I don't really understand how pleasure could cause such thoughtlessness and devotion."
Ford was breathing manually now, aware of the slight swelling below his belt. He hoped that Bill wouldn't notice, but a part of him, deep down, hoped that Bill would.
"Blood rushes from the head towards the genitals," Ford said quietly, even in his head. "So there's less blood to process coherent thought. I believe that humans shrink down to their basest urges when stimulated like this, the need to feel safe, the need to be connected, the need to release. I don't like to spend time at such a base level of humanity, I'd prefer to experience my highest self."
"But experiencing a greater level of connection is a byproduct of a sexual encounter," Bill said thoughtfully. "That can be useful to a higher self, can't it?"
"I suppose," Ford said, still breathing manually. He was trying his hardest to maintain a proper level of attraction. He felt strangely exposed. He shouldn't have these feelings towards his muse, it was like feeling inappropriate emotions towards a colleague, it was unprofessional. Still, Ford was trying to meditate his urges.
"I'm curious," Bill said after a long pause. "What pleasure at that level must feel like? Especially for someone like you, brainiac, so focused on your intellect."
Ford chewed on his lower lip and jammed his glasses back on his nose. He gathered his papers and haphazardly organized them, barely paying attention to which papers he shoved in what folders. The conversation didn't make him uncomfortable so much as it drew out a yearning in him. Over the past month, Bill had listened to him, offered him advice, called him brilliant, encouraged and inspired him. If he was human… Ford didn't know how he would respond to this level of attention. And the level of devotion Ford felt for his muse was unmatched within him. He understood why people worshiped gods now, why they erected shrines and statues. Hell, Ford doodled Bill in the corners of his journal like a teenage girl doodling the initials of her crush.
"Haha, where are you going, Sixer? Trying to get rid of me?"
"Not at all," Ford thought quietly, avoiding eye contact with his bedroom. He went into his bathroom and brushed his teeth, just for something to do with his hands.
"Have you experienced homosexual attraction, Ford?"
"Yes," Ford admitted immediately. His heart was racing in his lips as he spit out the toothpaste.
"Do you consider me a man?"
Ford held himself up on the edges of his sink, breathing heavily in his chest. Desire was assaulting him, the feeling shocking and sudden. When he had the occasional urge, his emotion didn't have a target. He could relieve himself quickly and free himself of the distraction. It was Bill's tone that caught Ford off guard. His voice was low, like he was speaking into Ford's ear. He was sultry though quiet, like he was unsure of his words to Ford as well. What was this?
"You're messing with me," Ford thought finally, wiping his mouth and shutting off the bathroom light. He headed to his bedroom without a second thought this time, just hoping that Bill would leave him alone to his shameful thoughts without embarrassing him further.
Bill chuckled and spoke in the same low voice, "I gotta admit, there's something appealing about seeing you squirm."
Fuck. Ford sat on his bed and shifted himself in his briefs, trying to relieve some of the pressure building up.
"What do you want from me, muse?" Ford asked finally. "Was this all an elaborate ploy to make me uncomfortable?"
"No," Bill said. "Those were all legitimate questions that I feel you answered pretty thoroughly. They were illuminating. What I can't understand is why you're hard right now. Is it just the mention of the topic? Or is it something else?"
Ford didn't respond, laying back down on his bed, his feet on the ground. He wanted to take off his pants and free himself, the arousal was worse than distracting now. He liked that Bill knew he was hard. He liked Bill talking about homosexual urges and attraction in relation to Ford. He couldn't downplay his feelings any longer and allowed himself to admit that he admired Bill as more than a colleague.
"Attraction as a deeper form of connection, to form a stronger partnership," Bill murmured. Ford closed his eyes and slid his hand up his chest. "Don't you think that could benefit us?"
"It's beneath you," Ford whispered aloud, his eyes closed. "I'm just a human."
"You're not just a human, Stanford. You're a genius. You're singular of your kind." Bill's voice was ambrosia, and Ford slid his glasses off of his nose again, wiping his face. "We should strengthen this partnership, don't you think?"
"How?" Ford asked before could form the thought to protest. Bill was silent for a little while.
"Here… like this…" Bill's voice surrounded the room, like it was coming out of the walls. Ford felt a thrill of terror, dipping down into desire yet again. Ford's head tilted back and he could feel Bill entering his body, but only halfway. Ford was still in his body, but he could feel Bill sharing him. Ford gasped as he realized how close Bill was to him.
"Fuck," Ford breathed, shocked at how intimate it felt.
"You don't usually cuss, do you, Sixer?" The voice in his head teased. "I think I already like this."
Bill had taken control of Ford's left hand, one of Ford's eyes had gone blind. His left hand was numb as Bill unbuckled his pants and Ford helped him by shifting out of his pants.
"I thought you couldn't feel anything while inhabiting my body—" Ford said, trembling with anticipation.
"It can be difficult, sure, but I'm tapped into the chemicals in your brain right now, I'm focusing on your nerve endings. I can only feel it because you're in here to feel it too."
Ford felt his hand cup his half-hard dick with surprising gentleness. Ford was breathing heavily, shocked into silence. He fell back against the pillows and just allowed Bill to explore, knowing that the pleasure he was feeling was being translated to Bill at the same time.
"Okay, I see the appeal," Bill said quietly, his voice breathy.
"It feels even better because you're doing it to me," Ford admitted. "There's a difference between… ahh—"
Bill slid Ford's underwear down and grabbed Ford's cock in his hand. Ford grabbed the sheet with his right hand, tilting his head back as Bill slowly began to pump him.
"Damn, Fordsy…" Bill teased. Ford felt desire flood him again and he couldn't repress a slight whine. He kept his pace on Ford's cock, Ford glancing down in ecstasy at the moment.
"Fuck, muse… muse…"
"I like that."
"Please…" Ford rarely spoke during his sexual encounters, but he didn't know how loose his mental tongue would become. He felt a sickly pleasure at how horny Bill was making him. "Do you like that?"
"I think I like your responses more than I like the feeling," Bill said softly. "Though it feels really good… I'm impressed."
Ford was achingly hard now, Bill's gentle strokes were more than Ford could handle. Ford watched his fingers circle around the leaking tip of his dick. Bill rubbed the slickness between his fingers and brought the fingers to Ford's mouth, touching his lips. God, it was like Bill was physical, like he was actually here—
Ford stuck out his tongue and accepted the fingers, tasting his own sweetness… sucking them gratefully. Ford was panting now as he lubricated his hand with his saliva, Bill gripping Ford's dick before slowly teasing him.
"Thank you," Ford breathed aloud. "Fuck…"
"Nice, nice…" Bill's voice struggling a little too. He could feel this pleasure too, he was borrowing Ford's desire. Ford unleashed it and Bill responded by picking up his pace. "How's that, Sixer? Do you like me?"
"Fuck, yes, yes, I do," Ford couldn't contain his thoughts. "I'm so grateful that it's you… please… ahh…"
Bill was keeping a good pace, sliding Ford's underwear completely off. Ford split his thighs open, feeling so beautifully exposed in the moment. He felt like a beetle beneath a spotlight, opened up and examined with fascination. He slid his right hand up his chest, grabbing his nipple beneath his shirt. Bill kept his pace, shocking Ford with a moan of his own. Ford was a vessel for him. Ford would sacrifice his dignity to ensure that Bill could feel the full berth of pleasure in this moment.
Bill was picking up his pace, his energy moving inside of Ford, surrounding him. "I'm so glad it's you, Sixer," Bill's voice was strained. It seemed impossible that Bill could actually be affected by Ford's fractured sexuality, but he was taking it on. "I've never met anyone like you."
Ford's emotions were encompassing, he couldn't believe that Bill felt so strongly towards Ford, but he chose to believe his muse in the moment. Ford unbuttoned his shirt and swirled his nipples, arching his back as Bill kept his pace.
"Fuck," Bill gasped, releasing Ford's dick. Ford whined and he fell back down to the bed. Ford wanted to fuck Bill so badly right now. It was all he could think about. "Your imagination is leaking…"
"I'm not practiced at controlling myself while I'm this turned on," Ford apologized, panting. Bill brought his fingers to Ford's lips again, slowly swirling the slick fingers around Ford's red lips. Ford kissed the tips of his fingers. Ford gripped his cock with his right hand, unable to contain his pleasure. Bill slipped his fingers into Ford's mouth again and Ford sucked as Bill thrust two fingers deep into his throat. Ford closed his eyes and sucked, moaning, gasping as he jerked himself.
"Oh… shit… I can still feel your dick, it's like you're touching me—"
"Fuck me," Ford begged, his tongue sticking out. Bill obliged, thrusting the fingers into Ford's throat again and again, Ford relaxing himself to take it. It was his muse, he could do it. Ford was jerking himself as Bill stroked Ford's face gently. His fingers were wet as he circled Ford's nipples with his left hand.
"Shit… I really get it, I really really get it now," Bill said weakly. "You're so pretty when you're slutty."
"I'm your slut," Ford vowed, his head back as Bill's hand pinched his nipples. Bill whined at this and Ford felt anointed in the sound. His left hand traveled further down and pressed against his swollen taint, rubbing circles around it. Ford lifted his knees and slowed his pace on his dick.
"Wait— muse, wait—"
"I want to see what it's like," Bill's voice was gruff.
"I'm not— I'm not practiced in—"
Bill's fingers were still slick from Ford's spit as he pushed his finger against Ford's hole. Ford gasped and tried to relax. He wanted it, but he doubted himself. Ford's heart was absolutely pounding in his chest, his breathing had picked up.
"I don't know if I can—"
"Please," Bill asked softly, circling around his entrance. Ford had never heard Bill ask so tentatively. Bill brought his hand up to Ford's face and Ford spit dutifully in his palm, wetting his fingers. Bill circled outside of Ford's hole and pushed an exploratory finger inside. Ford whimpered, torn with fantasies. Did he want to fuck or be fucked by Bill? He wanted Bill to drench his brain and remove all inhibitions from him. Bill whined, sweetening the moment, discovering Ford's prostate. Ford pulled his knees up to his chest as he pumped his cock and Bill fucked him with a single finger.
"Okay, I get this too," Bill said in a soft whine. Ford had never imagined that Bill was submissive in any form of the word, but Ford second guessed his thoughts in that moment. Bill's turned on voice was a gentle tenor, pitched up, breathy, gorgeous. Ford had made peace that he would bow to Bill's wishes with his body in any way. But Bill whined as he stretched Ford's hole, two fingers thick against Ford's prostate. Bill wanted to understand him, he wanted to share pleasure with him… Ford felt closer to him than he ever dreamed he could.
"Bill… Bill, you're… you're stretching me open…"
"I fucking love it," Bill said, quickening his pace with his two fingers. Ford moaned as he kept pumping his cock. "I love seeing you like this, Ford, I want to hold you close—"
Ford could cry hearing that. He rocked his hips into Bill's fingers and he released his cock, stroking his face, hoping that Bill felt it and knew it was for him. He felt unwound, he was blissfully horny and deeply in love. Bill was his everything.
"Shit... fuck...fuck me—" Ford whispered his beg, moaning low in his chest. Bill whimpered as he continued fucking Ford. Ford arched his back and dove into the feeling.
"Grab your dick—" Bill commanded. Ford obeyed. He stroked himself, just enough to keep himself high, but not enough to come. Ford finally understood why people held off coming so quickly. He never wanted this moment to end. He wanted to lay entwined in ecstasy with his muse forever.
"I'm so attracted to you, everything about you, I can't help it, I can't help it, I want you, I want you," Ford begged, his heart racing. "I want to be your slut, I want to be your dog, I'll give my life to you, Bill, I love you, I love you—"
"Shit," Bill's breath was desperate. Ford felt a spiritual pulse where their souls meshed within Ford. Ford whined. Ford kept his pace up on his dick as Bill continued to thrust against his prostate. "You're mine. You're mine," Bill hissed.
"I'm yours," Ford promised. His body warmed as he was coming up. "Oh fuck—"
"Fuck, it's too good, it's too good," Bill whined. "Shit we're—"
"You're gonna make me cum…" Ford moaned aloud. "I'm coming hard, oh God—"
It crept up on Ford like a speeding train, and Ford thrust cum over his hairy chest, over his face. Ford dribbled cum over his fingers. Ford winced as Bill's fingers dropped out of him.
"Goddamn," Bill's whine was shuddering. "What the fuck was that…"
Ford writhed a little, the adrenaline and oxytocin moving his muscles.
"Taste it," Bill's whisper was another command. Ford smiled weakly, exhausted.
"It's very astringent—" Ford thought, lifting his right hand to observe. Bill didn't respond right away. Ford closed his eyes and slipped his cum-dripping fingers into his mouth. He sucked the cum off of his fingers and felt Bill shudder at this. "Do you like that, muse?"
"I like seeing you suck on your fingers. I like feeling it through you. I'm shocked at how pure that pleasure feels," Bill said softly. "I understand what you mean by deeper connection now."
"I'm not sure that many people have an experience that deep. You shared my body."
"Your body is incredible. It might be the peak three-dimensional form. The pleasure is… it has to be instrumental in your advancement as a species, it was too… transcendent." Bill murmured. Bill stroked Ford's thigh gently as he spoke. Ford felt so connected.
"Thank you so much, muse," Ford whispered, his eyes fluttering as he felt exhaustion take over him.
"Thank you for enlightening me on the human body," Bill said quietly. "And thank you for letting me so close to you." Feeling slowly returned to Ford's left arm, the stroking slowed to a stop. Ford pulled his blanket over himself, sighing. Yearning replaced the space in his soul that Bill had inhabited. Ford drifted into a gentle sleep.
~*~
Ford was sitting at the edge of a beach, staring out over the ocean. He was staring at the sailboats enjoying the breeze off of Glass Shard Beach. He picked up handfuls of sand and dropped it to the ground. He wondered if Stan was out on any of those boats. He wondered what he was doing here.
"Hiya, smart guy."
Ford turned back towards the sunset, the familiar triangular form of Bill a few feet away. He had his top hat in his hands, and he was looking down at the beach nervously. Ford smiled shyly. "Hello, muse."
"Mind if I grab a patch of sand?"
"Not at all," Ford said, motioning to the sand next to him. Bill sat unceremoniously, still turning his top hat in his hands. Ford bent his knees, leaning against them as he stared out at the sailboats. "Is there a multidimensional equivalent to sailing?"
"I'd say it's more like spelunking," Bill said, glancing up at Ford. Ford nodded, still staring off at the boats. "Small spots, navigating pathways, that sort of thing." They sat there together in silence for a while, the sun slowly making its way down the sky behind them.
"I'm trying to fight off embarrassment," Ford said quietly. "I know you had several positive things to say about me afterwards, but… it's still difficult to be so vulnerable, especially to someone I respect so deeply."
"You don't have any reason to be embarrassed," Bill said, setting a reassuring hand on Ford's thigh. Ford glanced down at the triangle, chuckling.
"Yes I do," Ford said quietly. "I don't even know the extent of what I said to you while I was…" Ford shook his head. "I hope you still respect my intelligence."
"Of course I do, Sixer. If… if it helps… I want to show you something that I've been working on."
Ford sat up a little, leaning back. Bill was looking away from Ford, the sun finally dropping beneath the horizon. Ford felt his heart soften for Bill. The expanse of knowledge, the depth of perception that Bill held, was unbelievable. The fact that he had decided to share that with Ford… he was beyond grateful. Bill glanced up at Ford. He frowned.
"Look away! Hold on!"
Ford smiled a little, turning away. Something shifted behind him and Ford could feel a heavier presence.
"Okay." Bill's voice had shifted, just a little. Ford turned back around to a beautiful, brown-skinned man with long dark hair. He had one deep blue eye, the other socket was empty with a triangular shaped birthmark that split his eyebrow and gripped the curve of his cheek. He was wearing a simple yellow button-up shirt, black slacks, barefoot.
Ford felt his cheeks flush and Bill frowned a little, avoiding meeting Ford's eyes.
"I thought that this would… allow you to see me in a moment of weakness… that you wouldn't feel as embarrassed."
Ford stared at Bill's lips moving, his microexpressions… Ford had never been very good at reading people's expressions, but now he realized it was because he never stared at people's faces with so much focus. The man was gorgeous, especially with his imperfection. If Bill was hoping that this would put them on even footing, he was woefully mistaken. Ford could wrap his mind over his longing now, and Ford fell for him harder. Bill was still avoiding his eyes, glancing up nervously.
"This was a mistake."
"How?" Ford whispered.
Bill looked over at Ford, a slight fear, trepidation, cheeks flushed with heat somehow, split lips holding back words… He was beautiful. He was his muse… he was…
Bill relaxed a little, smiling at Ford. His smile was beautiful, Ford felt himself reach out, hesitating. He didn't want to cross a boundary with Bill. Bill had wanted to experience Ford's body, but that didn't mean… he didn't even know how to approach this. Bill looked out over at the ocean, crossing his legs beneath him.
"Nuclear fusion created so much of this universe. Gravity keeps bodies in motion around each other. Forces of attraction are a universal constant. It's a powerful thing to combine with someone else." Bill murmured. "Though fission… fission is powerful force too."
"I would never separate from you." Ford vowed softly. Bill looked over at Ford, a silent and inexplicable plea in Bill's eye. He pursed his lips and smiled again, shrugging. He turned back to the ocean.
"That remains to be seen. I could give you the universe, Stanford Pines. I'd have you sit beside me through it all. When it comes down to it, I hope you're still there. I hope you understand."
Ford slipped his hand into Bill's, pushing the boundary a little bit. Bill squeezed Ford's hand and leaned against his knees. He looked ancient in this moment, Ford could see Bill contemplating everything, like he was on some great precipice.
"I can't believe I've caused such conflict in you," Ford said quietly. Bill chuckled. He stared at Ford with the distant breadth of a god. Bill leaned forward and kissed Ford lightly on his lips.
Ford touched his lips in shock, looking at Bill with surprise. Bill smiled mischievously, shrugging.
"You've got so many stupid faces, Sixer."
Something about the kiss felt more explicit than the act of sharing Ford's body. Ford could look into Bill's face, see his expressions, his playful smile, his slight blush. Bill liked him back… Ford leaned in and captured Bill in another kiss, Bill melting beneath Ford's touch. Ford cupped Bill's face and kept the connection, deepening the kiss. It was so easy to sense Bill's emotions when he was in a human body, feel his chest rise and fall with excitement, his gentle moans as he clasped onto Ford's wrist.
Bill separated quickly.
"Okay—" Bill had shifted back to a triangle, floating out of Ford's grasp. "Okay, enough. That's enough."
Ford sat back up, worried. "My apologies, muse—"
"No, no, it's cool, it's whatever. It's—" Bill took a breath. "This was a fascinating glimpse into the human psyche. Thank you for the insight—"
"Anytime," Ford said gently. "I won't allow my human attractions distract from our goal. I promise."
Bill nodded. "Yeah. Eyes on the prize, Fordsy." He situated the hat back on top of his point. Bill avoided Ford's gaze as he straightened his bow tie. Ford believed that he was staring directly at the prize, overcome with connection. "I'll be back soon to go over our next steps. Don't forget to rewrite those calculations with the derivative in the right place, got it?"
"Got it."
Bill fizzled and disappeared from Ford's dream. The stars above him began to peek out of the deep blue night, the crash of the wave break bolstered him. Ford stared up into the memory of the night sky twinkling down on him. Ford stretched out on the cool sand and felt complete, the memory of his muse's lips lingering on his soul.