Laughter wasn't at all the appropriate response to Ford's latest faux pas, but it was something of a relief nonetheless. If Lestrange had just stared at him, Ford really wouldn't have known what to say next. And, of course, there was always the possibility that Cash would have broken down entirely. Laughter, while inappropriate, was at least easier to respond to.
His initial surprise at the response transformed to a sheepish smile. "Well," he said after a moment. "That magazine did say that about you. Morbid sense of humor."
And wouldn't it have been nice to have just left it at that? To not care that it was inappropriate or worry about what else was going on behind the scenes in Cash's brain? For a few seconds during this conversation they'd seemed to hit their old stride again, like when they were at the haunted house in Londonderry and they'd both been having fun and Ford hadn't known to worry yet. He wanted to recreate it, to remind both of them that they were still friends, not — Ministry official and troubled youth, or healer and patient, or whatever these roles were they'd assumed. He didn't know quite how to do it, though, at least while they were sitting at the table with that last comment hanging in the air.
"Finish your curry," Ford suggested, putting his toe out to gently nudge Lestrange's foot under the table. "Let's go for another walk."
His initial surprise at the response transformed to a sheepish smile. "Well," he said after a moment. "That magazine did say that about you. Morbid sense of humor."
And wouldn't it have been nice to have just left it at that? To not care that it was inappropriate or worry about what else was going on behind the scenes in Cash's brain? For a few seconds during this conversation they'd seemed to hit their old stride again, like when they were at the haunted house in Londonderry and they'd both been having fun and Ford hadn't known to worry yet. He wanted to recreate it, to remind both of them that they were still friends, not — Ministry official and troubled youth, or healer and patient, or whatever these roles were they'd assumed. He didn't know quite how to do it, though, at least while they were sitting at the table with that last comment hanging in the air.
"Finish your curry," Ford suggested, putting his toe out to gently nudge Lestrange's foot under the table. "Let's go for another walk."
Set by Lady!