Expelliarmus, that was the bloody word. It occurred to him too late, though, because now he'd ducked behind another cabinet full of assorted herbology things and his line of sight to Darrow was broken. He wasn't going to go back towards him and potentially put himself in harm's way just to maybe fire off a disarming spell before Darrow could send something at his way. He didn't trust his reflexes — he might lose, and then he'd be... well, he didn't know what. Dead, maybe. Darrow said he had no intention of hurting Ford, but for a myriad of reasons Ford was finding that rather difficult to believe.

He wished he knew a spell to turn himself invisible. He'd slowed down when he got out of sight, to the point where he could hear Darrow following him, closing in. He wasn't going to be able to hide forever and he wasn't sure how he might go about signaling for help. Fight or flight, but Darrow had made it clear he had no intention of letting Ford leave... so really just fight.

This was not the sort of moment where Ford excelled. He was not a fighter. He did not want to be here.

"What do you want?" Ford asked, moving to a new row in case Darrow hearing his voice would have given away his location. He stood by the question, though, because Ford was not at all above bargaining with a madman if necessary. It wasn't like he was attached to anything in Mr. Brownhill's home, so maybe if he made it clear that he wasn't going to stop Darrow from... doing whatever it was he wanted to do, he would leave him alone?

Unless Darrow was here to murder someone, he supposed. He probably couldn't just stand by and watch that. Of course, if Darrow was here to murder someone he might as well just murder Ford, too, so it probably wouldn't matter much whether or not Ford offered to forgive and forget.