"Do you want a hug?"

"No! I almost died just now, didn't I!"

"Ah, well, yes. But 'almost' really is the operative word here, isn't it? So come here, you."

"I don't want a hug, Ford."

"You never want a hug!"

"No. So stop asking."

"But if I don't ask, I'll never know if you change your mind. And you'll go hugless! Or worse – someone else will get my hug! I reserve your hugs, do you hear me?"

"I hear you! I hear you! Calm down, would you?"

"Alright, fine. I'm calm, Arthur."

"Right. Good."

"… Hey, Arthur?"

"What now?"

"Do you want a hug?"

"Take us home, Ford. Focus on the…. well, driving."

"This is a spaceship, we aren't going to hit anything."

"What's that these guys keep calling you? Eeks?"

"Ix; it's a sort of nickname, you see. My father back on Betelgeuse gave it to me."

"What's it mean, then?"

"Just 'boy'. He wasn't a particularly creative man."

"I see that. Would you like I call you Ix?"

"You can call me Im."

"Im?"

"Yes."

"What does that mean?"

"If I tell you, you won't call me it."

"Why not?"

"You're not very affectionate, you know."

"What, does it mean 'friend' or something? Best bud?"

"Think… a little more affectionate than that."

"Ah, I see."

"Your face is red."

"Im, huh?"

"Yep."

"Stop it with those big eyes, you idiot. I might call you that. Maybe. Unless Zaphod picks it up."

"He knows what it means. He is my semi-cousin brother type thing."

"Certainly not, then."

"He also knows."

"That big mouthed, egotistical president knows knows? God. I need tea."

"If it helps, I didn't tell him. But it's not like we're on Earth – no one cares."

"I care, Ford. I care. I'm not some homosexual xenophile. And… Ford, let go of me… Ford."

"Your planet sure is mean."

"Let go."

"You're hugging back, Im."

"Shut up."

"What do you do for fun around here?"

"I'm doing it right now."

"What do the /non/journalists do, then?"

"I'm not a- Okay. Well, Zaphod watches himself on Tv and Trillian… I don't actually know what Trillian does."

"Tv? That's- That's good, actually. Very good. What about that screen in my room; does it get Tv?"

"Sure. I'll help you turn it on."

"I think I can turn it on myself."

"Probably. Hey, wait for me!"

"You don't need to- Why are you- Ford… There's nothing I can say that will stop you from following me, is there."

"Not likely, my friend."

"I'm drunk."

"You don't drink."

"My room's a mess."

"It always is."

"I watch bad Tv."

"I do too."

"You're persistent. Come in, then."

"You weren't kidding about the messy room."

"No. No I was not."

"Give me a second to just… and there you are. Pick a channel."

"Okay then. Let's see."

"Your concentrating face is cute."

"The controls are a bit tricky. I am most certainly /not/ cute. Blimey. I'm a grown man, Im!"

"Did you just call me…?"

"No. Absolutely not. Well, a bit. A slip of the tongue, I assure you. It's nothing. No, not /nothing/. I didn't mean that, necessarily. I just didn't say it."

"Yes you did."

"No I- Let go, Ford. At least loosen up a bit."

"You smell nice."

"I'm not a sodding scratch and sniff!"

"I'm not scratching, I'm nuzzling. And was that the hint of a giggle, I heard?"

"I don't giggle."

"No, of course you don't."

"Quit with that grin of yours."

"What grin?"

"/That/ one. Like you… you…"

"I what? Want to kiss you?"

"That's… accurate, I suppose."

"I think I'm going to."

"Are you, now?"

"Yes. I've properly made up my mind."

"What makes you think I'll let you?"

"You called me, Im."

"Does that mean so much to you?"

"From you, Yes."