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"Just... Just this one more equation, I assure you," Ford had said. Yet as the time ticked by, Bill was getting more and more impatient. It wasn't just the inherent promise of Ford getting himself into bed and dreaming the night away at Bill's mercy, though that certainly didn't hurt. No, it was... He couldn't have his pet IQ making some grave mistake. That's what it was, not some kind of attachment. And here he was, clearly on the brink of some such mistake. He could hardly keep his eyes open! His hands were trembling as he grumbled, scratching away, only to erase it all again. It had become clear: Nothing was going to stop Ford in a state like this, nothing except for Bill himself.
"Alright, Sixer, I think it's time you give it up," Bill spoke, jolting Ford's attention into his mindscape. Shifting his attention just for a moment never hurt - looking between the mindscape, the "meatscape", and back again was more like looking from the background to the foreground than anything, eyes shifting focus while still retaining a sense of both - but it was times like this Bill could so easily slip in and just--
Ford became aware of himself stretching - in answer, a plea left his mouth. "Wait, I wasn't done!" He didn't want to fight his Muse, but he could feel he was getting so close to the solution... And that he couldn't possibly rest until he managed it. He just needed a little more time! He steeled himself, putting his all into wresting control of his arms back, preemptively begging for forgiveness. It was tough, getting the pencil back in his hand, but before he could celebrate, he had seized his own wrist. Or, well, Bill had seized his wrist, using his other hand.
"Come on, Fordsy," Bill sing-songed through his mouth, "There's always tomorrow! Let's just be a good boy, why don't we? We both know just how much you love that!" As Ford was preoccupied trying to free his wrist, Bill stood up on shaky legs. He laughed, "Wow, you're really doing a number on yourself here!"
Ford winced, shaking his head, "I promise- I'm so close--"
"--I haven't even touched you yet!"
The remark flustered him, but more importantly, sent Bill into a fit of hysterics. He might have had the upper hand, but did he have... the lower foot? As one foot fell forward, the other shifted, sending Bill - and Ford as well - tumbling. His glasses skittered across the floor with the impact, but it was okay, he could just- he could... Why couldn't he reach out for them...? Trying to move his arms earned him an equal force pushing back, fighting against the current of Bill's immense energy. All he wanted was to stay in his Muse's good graces... or maybe a little deeper than that, to work dutifully for one of the few he considered a true friend.
"Quit acting like a child!" Bill scolded him, bracing himself to get up, "Just think, how much easier this will be in the morning!"
He huffed in answer, trying instead to inch a little closer to his abandoned glasses, "I am not acting like a child! I am trying to- to-"
"You're not getting there tonight! Be honest here, you're practically keeling over!" Bill shook his head, another intense effort from Ford seeming to knock his wrists out from under him. He was so close to reaching... his...
He fell lax, barely able to focus on the image in his bleary eyes. The most he could get out of his body now was a slight twitch in his fingers - and Bill found much the same. A shameful regret washed over Ford as he looked toward Bill in his mindscape. Maybe he really had been acting like a child...
"Look what you've done," Bill tutted, both a little amused and a little annoyed. "This could have been easy. Now you're gonna be falling asleep on the floor!"
Ford sighed, "I'm sorry, my Muse..."
"It isn't me you should be apologising to! Just don't complain to me when your back hurts in the morning."
Sleep had come sooner than even Bill had expected, chastising Ford for letting it get this bad. Yet his reward was sweeter than ever - as if a promise of what he would continue to receive, and a reminder of what he would miss out on if he staved off sleep. A bliss so pure and so deep, the very colours of the world encapsulating him and bringing him to heights he'd never seen before... Even as morning came and he shook sleep from his mind, the bed beneath him felt so soft, threatening to pull him even deeper down, promising... Wait, bed?
"Bill," he slurred in his mindscape, words hardly coming to him through what might as well be thick, sticky honey, "Yuh- you...?"
"Yes, yes," he waved a hand, "This time, anyway. Wouldn't help us much if something as silly as pain threw a wrench in the works of that brilliant mind, would it? You humans can be so fragile!" He turned to face Ford, tone slightly lower in warning, "Just don't do it again."
Ford nodded, speechless. This was... To have such a being looking out for him like this? True, perhaps sometimes his methods were a bit unorthodox, teetering on the edge of cruelty - at times crossing, really speaking - but he couldn't fault Bill, could he? The triangle operated on a whole different level - the struggle to understand one another went both ways, yet they were trying their best. Not merely muse and scientist, but... friends, when they got right down to it.
"Good!" Bill closed his eye in smile, "Now, up and at 'em, Fordsy!"