Pointdexter: A Swooning Over Stan-fiction

Chapter Fifty-Two: Whoever It Is Can Wait

The most glorious thing about Alice's apartment was the shower pressure, so much so, that she regretted letting Ford take it first.

After months on a ship with one shower and two men who used most of the hot water, Alice was glad to be home. She wiped the tears, the scars, and the exhaustion from her face with hot water, her hair pasted to the back of her neck.

"Oh my god," She groaned, her eyes closed as the shower pattered against her face like rain. "I'm dead. This has to be heaven."

"Dead?" She heard Ford call from somewhere in the apartment. "Just from a shower?"

She ignored his teasing, rinsing the soap from her hair and shutting off the water. It was blissful, but there were things to do around the apartment, she couldn't spend hours under the water. Alice reached out the curtain, grabbed her towel, and wrapped it around her torso.

After wringing out her hair and adjusting to the AC in her apartment, Alice stepped out of the bathroom door.

"That," She sighed, feeling refreshed for the first time in months. "Was blissful."

"It seemed so," Ford chuckled, and Alice found him settled on the couch, an open book in his lap, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. "You stayed in there for almost an hour, you know."

"I think deserved it after spending months on the boat with you and Stan," Alice commented, holding her towel with one hand and sweeping her hair over her shoulder with the other. Ford chuckled, his eyes locked on her as he gestured to the couch beside him.

"Come here," He said, patting the seat next to him.

Alice raised a brow at him, placing her free hand on her hip and shaking her head.

"That couch did nothing to deserve getting soaked," She smiled at him, turning down the hall and starting toward her room.

Slipping into her room, Alice shed her towel and grabbed her robe from off the bed, shrugging it off and neatly tying it in front of her. She draped her hair over her back, the robe thick enough to keep her from feeling the sudden cool on her back.

She heard the light sound of knuckles rapping on wood, and she turned, finding Ford standing there.

"I was wondering," Ford began, leaning on the door frame and grinning. "If you had a moment to spare..."

"For?" Alice asked, crossing her arms playfully over her chest. Ford pushed himself off the doorframe, stepping closer until he was within arm's length of her. He mimicked her stance, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at her.

"Me," He replied, his tone teasing yet soft. "I've been rather neglected lately, you know, and I was hoping you had a moment to fix that..."

"Neglected," Alice repeated, stepping forward and reaching out, her finger brushing along his neck. "Have they faded already?"

She felt a shiver run over him, his chin tilting and allowing her to touch easily. The collections of love bites and hickeys he'd collected during their time aboard the ship had faded over time, their colors fading into an almost imperceptive shade of pale yellow on his skin.

"I'm afraid so," He admitted in a quiet voice, his hands dropping to his side.

"That's a shame," Alice mused, drawing her hand back. "They looked good on you."

Ford chuckled, a blush creeping across his face.

"You don't have any marks," He retorted, his eyes tracing along her neck as if hoping to catch a glimpse.