#dipper suggests great uncle Ford to finger dance

[kayiiin]

Might make more of them DANCE

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Reverse Falls fic request for @waldorkler

“C’mon Paz!  We’re gonna be late for the show!”  Gideon Gleeful was not known for his physical prowess.  He had always been the youngest in his grade, was short for his age, and he was the first to admit that he was a bit on the chubby side (it’s not his fault Miss Suzan made such good pie).  But, with the proper motivation, the ten-year-old boy could be surprisingly speedy.  Pacifica Northwest had known Gideon for years, and yet even she was mildly surprised as she tried to keep up with her friend.  One of his chubby hands was wrapped around her wrist, and together they sped down the gravel drive, the sound of their feet, one pair in light-up sneakers, and the other sliding in beaded sandals alerted every being with some type of ears within half a mile that they were there.

“Look!”  Pacifica gasped, skidding around a the corner, her sandals grabbing weakly at the ground  “The tent...is still open!”  The tent in question was a towering monstrosity of blue fabric that defied physics.  It was covered in more glitter than Pacifica knew existed in the whole world, and a huge neon sign the proclaimed “THE MYSTERY TWINS TENT ’O’ TELEPATHY” for the whole world to see.  The tent flap was open, light and noise pouring out of it and into the twilight, but even as the children watched, an old man in a straw hat and a loud pink hawaiian shirt came out and started fiddling with the ties.

“WAIT!”  Gideon hollered, making Pacifica wince as they pushed themselves into a final sprint.  The man turned towards the children, just in time to catch Pacifica as she finally lost the battle with her shoes and the gravel and nearly slid into the tent like a baseball player.

“Easy there kid!”  The man exclaims, setting the girl back on her feet.  His voice is gruff, but concerned, and his hands are large and wrinkled, but gentle.  “You don’t wanna take a spill out here.  Trust me, it ain’t fun.”  The man adjusts his hat as Pacifica tugs on her tank-top, stretching the tie-dyed peace sign briefly into an oval.

“Thank you.”  Pacifica says, straightening the flower crown she had made earlier in the day where it rested on her head.

“You two here to see the show?”  The old man asks, letting the two children slip in around him as he pulls the opening of the tent shut.

“Yessir!” Gideon squeaked, his Southern accent eliciting a smile from the man.  “We’re really excited for it!”  Next to him, Pacifica nodded a little, but she wasn't really listening to the two of them.  She was scanning the crowd, looking for an empty spot in the benches for her and her friend to sit.  The tent was packed close to bursting!

“Gid, I think I found some seats!”  Pacifica grabs her friends shoulder, and points to a small bench in the back.  A man was already sitting there, arms and legs crossed and one foot bouncing impatiently, but there was enough room on the bench for one more person.  Or two small people.

“You two better get settled then.  The show’s about to start!”  The man says with a smile before walking to the front of the tent.  

Gideon and Pacifica trot over to the empty bench and hop up onto it,  Pacifica on the edge and Gideon next to the strange man.  It was only after they both got comfortable that they realized a glaring problem

“Aww shoot!  I can’t see a thing back here!”  Gideon pouted to Pacifica.  She could only see the stage if she leaned into the aisle, so she could only imagine how much worse it must be for her shorter friend.  Pacifica was about to suggest they trade seats, give her friend the better way of seeing the show, when the man sitting next to them spoke.

“Why don’t you just stand on the bench?”  He says, gesturing with one hand.  “No ones behind us, and there are no rules against standing during the show.”

Pacifica turns towards the man, only to freeze in confusion.  Next to her, Gideon speaks, voicing her thoughts for her “Hey!  You look just like that other guy!”

The man that they were sitting next to bore an incredible resemblance to the man who had let them into the tent.  His hair was a little darker, and his glasses were different, and he was a bit trimmer than the other man, but the similarities outshone the differences.  Although the biggest difference was, of course, their clothing.  The new man was wearing simple slacks and dress shoes, a rumpled maroon button-down, and an old fraying suit coat with patches on the elbows that were there for function more than fashion.

“Hmm.  I’m going to assume you're talking about my brother.  We’re twins.”  The man said with a bored ease and practice.

“Twins?  That’s so amazing!  I’m Gideon by the way, pleasure to make your acquaintance sir!”  Gideon grabbed one of the man's hands and shook it with both of his own, startling the man.  “This here’s my friend Pacifica, but I call her Paz!”  Gideon then grabbed Pacificas hand and shoved it into the man's, forcing the two of them into a handshake.  Pacifica, used to her friends antics, took this in stride, until she felt something unusual about the handshake.  She looked down at the stranger's hand and felt his fingers tense up as she counter his fingers.  And then counted them again.

“Six fingers?  Wow, that’s far out!” She says,  looking up at the man and smiling as she dropped the handshake.  The tight look on his face melted into a mildly confused one at her words.  Pacifica was used to people being startled by the phrases she picked up from her parents and from the other hippies that she would meet when they stayed at communes over the winter before settling in Gravity Falls.  

“That is so cool!”  Gideon had grabbed the man's hand again and was experimentally bending the sixth finger back and forth.  The man looked at him with a mix of amusement and discomfort on his face.  He pulled his hand out of Gideon’s grasp and coughed nervously.

“Yes, well, I-erm, I’m Dr Stanford Pines.”  He hastily changed the topic, and Pacifica felt guilt twinge in her stomach.  She hadn’t meant to make him feel embarrassed.  She was just trying to do what her parents taught her: show love and tolerance for all.  She would have to try to apologize to him.  “But you children can call me Ford.”

Pacifica opened her mouth to offer an apology to Ford, when suddenly the lights dimmed and piano music starts to fill the tent.  Next to her Gideon squeaked and hastily clambered into a standing position, placing a hand on Pacifica's head and on Ford’s shoulder to do so.  Pacifica climbs up next to him as soon as she’s able, just in time for the curtains to part revealing two figures in blue standing on stage.

A boy and a girl, with curly hair and similar faces stood side-by-side in the spotlight.  The boy wore a simple light blue suit, and his bangs were combed and parted to perfectly show that a constellation was drawn on his forehead.

“Why does he have the Big Dipper drawn on his head?”  Gideon whispered to Pacifica

“It’s a birthmark.”  Ford answers.  He had stood up to see over the crowd too, and had taken out a notebook and a pen.  The end of the pen had teeth marks decorating the plastic casing.

“What?”  Pacifica and Gideon say together

‘“Well, he uses makeup to enhance it during the show, but really, it’s been there since he was born.  I believe Stanley has pictures if you would like to see after the show.”  He looked over at them, and seeing their confusion, added “We’re their great-uncles.”

A bright flash brought the three of them back to the stage, just in time to see the boy tuck a silver lighter into his pocket, as his sister waved a fat blue cigar around.  More smoke floated off of the lit end than seemed possible, and the smoke glittered and changed colors, eliciting a pleased round of ‘ooooh’s from the audience.

“Hello everybody!” The girl calls out, waving at the crowd.  Her outfit was extravagant, just as sparkly as the tent was, complete with a cape and a top hat.  “I’m Mabel, this is my brother Dipper.  Together we’re the Mystery Twins, and we would like to welcome you to our TENT ‘O’ TELEPATHY!”  The smoke trailing from her cigar coalesced over her and her brothers head before shattering outwards into a flock of glittering white doves.

The show did not disappoint.  Together, the Pines Twins performed what seemed like ten different shows rolled seamlessly into one.  They started the show with a lively musical number, dancing to light peppy piano music,  Following that was Mabel's impressive mind reading routine.  Gideon was a volunteer for that part of the show, to his delight and Fords chagrin.  

Together the twins pulled off a mind boggling magic show.  Rabbits were pulled out of hats, objects vanished and reappeared, the crowd cheered wildly. The smoke from Mabel's cigar had filled the tent by this point, and yet the acrid scent of it was oddly absent.  Instead of simply rising and filtering out of the top, the smoke swelled and surged almost with a mind of its own.  It seemed to collect more around whatever was being done up on the stage, but it never obscured the tricks.  Pacifica swore she once saw the smoke thicken around a prop that almost tipped over in the background and right it.

 Dipper performed an amazing sleight of hand routine with a group of audience volunteers, shocking and surprising them as he made wallets leave pockets, hats change heads, scarves leave shoulders. Then he was Mabels assistant as she ran a gamut of increasingly improbable escapes, fat blue cigar clenched tightly between her teeth..  All throughout the show, Ford grumbled, scribbling in his notebook and muttering to himself.

At last, it was time for the grande finale.  A second set of curtains at the very back of the stage opened, revealing…

“Is that a cannon?”  Pacifica squeaked

“Yes” Ford growled as his nephew climbed into the glittering blue monstrosity.

“Is that...safe?”

“That is an excellent question.”

Mabel reaches behind the cannon, lighting the fuse with her cigar before stepping back.  Smoke swirled around the cannon as the fuse burnt down.  A loud BOOM shook the tent as Dipper was launched out of the top.  Everybody, save for Mabel and Ford, jumped or screamed.  One patron fell off of his bench.

Dipper grew smaller as he soared through the sky, his outfit glowing in the moonlight.  As he disappeared with a twinkle, Mabel raised her voice above the crowd.  “And now, we watch my brother become one with his namesake, the Big Dipper!”

The crowd sat in shocked silence for a moment, before erupting into loud cheers.  Everyone got to their feet, giving a standing ovation.  Except for Ford, who just scribbled in his notebook more.

As Mabel bowed and the curtains closed, the crowd started to file out.  Gideon and Pacifica stayed on their bench, waiting for the crowd to die down before leaving.  They squealed about the show to each other, exhilarated by the spectacle they just witnessed.

“Did you see that chair levitate?”

“I can’t believe she was able to get out of that box in time!”

“It was like real magic!”

“That's because it is.”   Ford interjected, cutting off their excited ramblings.

“What”

“Really?”

Ford nodded, then started walking towards the exit, prompting the two children to follow him.  “Yes really.  I have watched every single show my niece and nephew have put on since the beginning of summer.  I didn’t want to believe it at first, but looking through my research-” he tapped his notebook with his pen “-it can only be one thing.”

“Real magic?”  Pacifica breathed in awe.  Her parents had taught her about chakra and other spiritualistic things, but she had never thought about real magic being real before.

“That is sooooo coooooool!” Gideon gushed, grabbing Pacificas arm.

“No, it is most certainly not ‘cool’”  Ford said, making air quotes  “It’s highly dangerous.  If my niece and nephew are working with what I think they’re working with, than the entire fate of the world could hang in the balance!”  Ford emphasized his speech with wild gesticulations, arms waving like a lopsided windmill  “And the worst part is, I can do nothing to stop them!  They think that everything is just some big game!  I can’t get them to tell me or Stanley anything!”

“Maybe we could help?”  Pacifica asks tentatively.  “If things are as bad as you say, it seems like you could use all the help you can get.”  She added with more confidence.

“Yeah!”  Gideon cheered, as enthusiastic as ever  “We can definitely help you out!”

“I appreciate the offer children,” Ford laughed at their antics, “but I have absolutely no idea what you could do to help me.  I’m sorry that I even told you both this honestly.  I guess I’ve just been so frustrated with everything this summer I dumped everything on the first pair of ears that I found to listen to me.”  He gives a small tight smile  “You children don't need to worry about my problems.”

“I think that the potential end of the world is everybody's problem.” Pacifica said

“Besides, we’re kids like them!”   Gideon said  “That’s gotta give us some advantage, right?”

“Hmm, I suppose you do have some valid points.  Tell you what,”  Ford bends down to the kids level “meet me at Greasy’s Diner tomorrow at seven thirty in the morning, and we’ll see what you two can do.”

“Really?!”  The children say together

“Yes really.”  Ford stands up and brushes off his knees, “Seven thirty, and not a minute later!”  He heads down a side path, and Pacifica and Gideon head off down the gravel drive together, talking in excited hushed whispers.  None of them notice that two sets of eyes were watching them from the opening of the tent.

“What did you want me to see Mabel?”  Dipper says to his sister, picking leaves and twigs out of his hair.

Mabel smiles, the smoke from her cigar spinning around her head in a dizzying halo.  Her eyes don’t leave the figure of white haired boy that's retreating down the path as she replied to her brother  “Something I want.”

[crossroadsdimension]

Lucky!Ford ch 4

Let it be known that this chapter really, really did not want to cooperate at first. It was as nervous as Ford seems to be at the idea of talking to Stanley, let’s put it that way.

And yet, it has come into existence and is now on my blog! Huzzah!

Talk Things Out

Knowing that he and Stanley had to talk was one thing. Actually getting around to talking to Stanley was something else entirely.

Mostly because Ford didn’t really know how to approach the subject of the rift that had formed between himself and his twin. Not to mention the fact that he had to get used to being back on Earth and there were a lot of things that he didn’t know about that was common knowledge for everyone else.

Ford’s brow furrowed at the computer screen and the newspaper that Dipper had found for him on the Internet, which was apparently this dimension’s version of a wireless information grid.

“Of course they turn out to be not everything that I had hoped they’d be.” He scowled at the news about WCT and how high their tuition was -- not to mention how they were apparently making their own students’ test scores appear higher than they actually were in order to keep themselves high up on the list for recommended engineering colleges -- before clicking back to a news article on Backupsmore.

It apparently now called itself “Underdog University,” which Ford found to be horribly ironic.

“Catchin’ up?”

Ford whirled at the sound of the gruff voice and blinked a couple times when he saw his brother standing behind him. He frowned. “What are you doing in the library? Don’t you have that...that attraction of yours to run?”

“Yeah, but I got a call about a double of me running around town an’ I figured I’d make sure people knew you weren’t me.” Stan shuffled his feet against the carpet.

Ford adjusted how he was sitting on the chair. “And how are you introducing me to them?”

“I-I’m just sayin’ that yer my brother from out of town. Do ya really think that I’m gonna say anythin’ else at this point?” Stan’s brow furrowed.

Ford frowned at the look on Stan’s face. Stan didn’t seem angered at his comment; he seemed...almost nervous.

It took a moment for Ford to consider even why Stan would even be nervous.

Ford sighed and turned to look back at the computer. “Is there anything else that you came here for?”

“Yeah. Mabel said ya...ya wanted ta talk.”

Ford’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to enter his next query into the electronic subconscious of this dimension. He didn’t move, didn’t turn his head.

“I...I know it’s prob’ly not the best time, since yer still gettin’ settled back in, but…” Stan trailed off. “Ya know what, forget it. Ya probably wouldn’t want ta talk ta me until ya kick me out of the house, anyway.”

He turned and stomped off, leaving Ford sitting alone in the library corner, hands still hovering over the keyboard.

He let them drop after a moment. “A sdkl” appeared in the search bar as he bowed his head a little and sighed.

“Great-Uncle Ford?”

Ford lifted his head and looked to his right, blinking a couple times when he saw Dipper standing next to him with a rather large package under his arm.

“I...I just saw Grunkle Stan. Have you--”

“Not yet,” Ford admitted, quietly. “It….” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Do you need a plan?” Dipper offered. “I-I could come up with something. Mabel says that I plan too much for everything, but maybe this time--”

“I appreciate the thought, Dipper, but I doubt that you would be able to help me as much as you would like.” Ford sighed again and shook his head.

“O-oh.” Dipper pulled back a little, putting a hand on the package. “Um…” He bit his lower lip. “I-I don’t know if you’d be up to it or not, but...I-I just got this today and I’ve been looking for people who would be willing to play with me.” He held the package out so that Ford could have a look at it. “Mabel doesn’t want to play because she doesn’t want to think about math, and Soos is more into--”

“Is that Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons?”

Dipper looked up at Ford’s question and saw that his great-uncle was staring at him with an agape expression. “Y-yeah! Do...do you play?”

“Do I play?” Ford gave a short laugh. “‘With pen and paper, shield and sword, our journey is our sweet reward!’ It’s been years since I’ve been able to sit down and play a proper game!” He frowned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Although, it would be rather difficult to play if we only have the two of us…”

“D-do you think Grunkle Stan could play with us, too?”

Ford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Stanley never saw much of a point in attempting to play, much less make sense of the game. When we were younger, he thought it ridiculous that charisma was something you had to roll for.”

“Oh.” Dipper’s hopeful expression fell, and he let out a sigh. “Sounds a lot like Mabel. She doesn’t want to think about math very much.”

Something shifted in the bookshelves near them, causing Ford’s and Dipper’s heads to turn sharply.

Ford’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the leg of a blue suit and part of a ridiculous hairstyle.

“Maybe we should be having this conversation elsewhere,” Dipper said carefully.

“Good idea.” Ford vacated his chair and gathered his notes before starting for the library’s entrance. Dipper followed on his heels, game under his arm.

If either one of them heard a child’s voice behind them, they didn’t say anything.

Dipper didn’t speak up again until they were out on the street.

“I-I know you don’t want a plan from me, but...have you figured out how you’re going to talk to Grunkle Stan yet?” Dipper pulled the bill of his cap down when Ford looked over at him. The pine tree symbol on his hat still sent chills down Ford’s spine, but at least he knew they wouldn’t have to make use of the Zodiac with the portal demolished and Bill still on the other side.

Ford sighed and moved his gaze away from his nephew. “I have seen countless dimensions and I’ve defeated many creatures. I will talk to Stanley; the time simply isn’t right for it yet.”

Dipper nodded a little. “Yeah, I know the feeling. But, uh...sometimes it’s just good to go for it, you know? I, uh, I tried to plan how to talk to a girl and how our conversation would go...but I found out that’s not how I should do things. Maybe you should just…” Dipper trailed off and played with his hat. “Just go for it?”

Ford watched Dipper turn his head away quickly again. His brow furrowed as he looked down the street as his thoughts started to turn.

Dipper was essentially suggesting that Ford “wing it.” Ford did not do very well with “winging it.”

At least, most Fords didn’t.

Ford still had his luck -- luck which had done more to help than harm him since he had returned to his dimension. As far as his journal and the way he had returned, at least. He still wasn’t sure about the Fiddleford or the information he was learning about the truth of things, but it sometimes appeared as though he was going to the right direction.

Ford knew it wasn’t a good idea to put complete trust in his unusual luck. People who tried ended up either dying or managing by the skin of their teeth.

He wasn’t going to trust his luck.

Not completely.

Time Break

It turned out that fate did not plan to simply let Ford go about his own way of talking to his brother.

Mabel came into the kitchen with Stan in tow as Ford and Dipper were starting to set up. “Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Stan’s got something he wants to say to you!”

Ford looked up from his dice and character sheet, blinking in surprise. He looked over at Stan, who rubbed the back of his head and averted his gaze from his brother.

“Well?” Ford raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Stan fidgeted, glanced at Ford, then looked away again quickly. “I, uh…” He sighed. “Mabel, I don’t think I can do this.”

“Yes, you can!” Mabel insisted. “Grunkle Stan, I could stab the tension in this house with my knitting needles. You gotta hug it out!”

“Kid, it ain’t that easy.” Stan shook his head.

Ford went back to his dice and looked at the numbers he’d rolled. He spun his pencil in between his fingers, then sighed and put the pencil down.

“Sure it is! Dipper and I do it all the time, right, Dipper?”

“Uh…” Dipper looked between Ford and Stan as Ford looked up from his dice again. “Mabel, I don’t think what works for us is going to work for them. There’s...there’s a lot of stuff that we don’t know about that they did, you know….” He trailed off and ducked his head as the looks he was getting from the rest of his family.

Ford glanced over at Stan and noticed that his brother was looking at him; the two of them quickly turned their gazes away from each other and focused elsewhere.

Ford found himself staring at his dice again, and at the lousy 1 he’d thrown among them for a possible character’s stats.

Critical miss on social interaction.

Ford sighed irritably. If this kept up, he and Stan were going to be dancing around the subject -- and each other -- for the rest of the summer. If they were going to get things settled now, one of them was going to have to open his mouth and say something.

But what?

Ford wracked his brain for something that he could say to get the conversation started, brow furrowing as he glared at the dice as though he could vaporize them just by looking at them.

“Y’know, Poindexter, I’m surprised ya haven’t started throwin’ blows like ya did when I got here thirty years ago.”

The comment threw Ford out of his thoughts abruptly that he looked up sharply from the dice and looked over at Stan with a befuddled expression.

“I mean, I stole yer name, I stole yer house, an’ I tried ta activate that thing in the basement. Ya...didn’t seem to happy about the fact I still had yer journal, either.”

Ford sighed. “No, I’m not. That information is dangerous -- I’d told you that it needed to be hidden.”

“And if it was so dangerous, why didn’t you just destroy it in the first place?”

“Because not all of it was dangerous.”

“Then you could have just gotten rid of the bits that were.” Stan folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow as Ford’s frown deepened. “Or did you not want to do that, either?”

Ford could see the truth in what Stan was saying, but that didn’t mean he was going to simply let Stan roll over him. “You weren’t in the position I was in, and I couldn’t destroy something that I’d worked so hard on! I spent six years gathering that data! If I had just destroyed it, then I would have had to go through my studies all over again!”

“Uh huh. Then why is it that you were muttering about going to see unicorns last night?”

“Unicorns?” Mabel’s eyes lit up instantly. “There are unicorns here?”

How had Stan heard that? “I require some of their hair to make a barrier around the house in order to keep the supernatural out. There are some things out in the woods that you don’t want to be allowed to rampage in here freely.”

Of course, Ford was mostly thinking of Bill, but he wasn’t about to tell them that.

“Unfortunately, they are incredibly annoying and will only let someone with a pure heart take anything from them.” Ford leaned back in his chair and sighed irritably.

“I’ll go! I’ll do it!” Mabel rushed up to Ford and gave him a wide-eyed, pleading stare. “I’m probably the most pure-hearted out of all of us!”

“She’s got a point there,” Dipper said, nodding in agreement.

“I could make it a girl’s day out and bring Candy, Grenda, and Wendy with me!” Mabel squealed. “CanIgocanIgo? Please please please?”

Ford hesitated, but Mabel’s eyes only seemed to get bigger and bigger and more and more pleading by the second. He sighed. “All right, all right.” He reached into his coat and pulled out his second journal. “You’re going to need this if you’re going to want to find them -- I’ve marked the pages that you’re going to need; only look at those, understand?”

“Okay, Grunkle Ford!” Mabel rushed out of the room before Ford could grab something else from inside his coat to help her defend herself. “Candy, Grenda, Wendy! Clear out your afternoons -- I’ve got something awesome planned!”

“After talking about how dangerous your research is, you just let her take off with one of your journals?” Stan demanded. “Ford, you--”

“I’ve given her something to do,” Ford replied shortly. “The second journal contains spells more than anything else, and they are all encoded to ensure that they won’t be read easily.”

“Gideon probably figured out how to read them,” Dipper muttered. He ducked his head when Ford looked over at him.

“...I highly doubt that Mabel will be making use of such things.” Ford looked back at Stan. He didn’t want to let it slip that he was partially trusting that some of his luck would rub off on Mabel and let her get the unicorn hair he needed.

“Not unless she runs into Gideon, which probably isn’t going to happen if they’re in the middle of the woods,” Dipper agreed. “I trust Mabel. She’ll be okay.”

A part of that statement made Ford want to flinch a little, but he managed to hold back from doing so.

“Besides, Mabel and I have faced all sorts of things so far this summer -- she’ll be fine,” Dipper added quickly.

“Kid, what are you--”

“Yes, I read the notes you added to my journal.” Ford didn’t look over at Stan as he felt his brother’s sharp gaze turn to him. “Although I admit that I am impressed with the fact that you managed to subdue a Gremgoblin, that was incredibly dangerous, especially at your age.”

Dipper ducked his head at that, hiding his face under his baseball cap.

“Grem -- ya know what, I don’t wanna know.” Stan shook his head. “Dipper, ya mind gettin’ out of here for a while? Keep an eye on Mabel or something.”

“Uh…” Dipper looked between Stan and Ford, then nodded and ran out of the kitchen without a word.

Stan stood for a moment, then walked over to where Dipper had been sitting across the table from Ford and sat down. He eyed the sheets and dice in front of him before carefully pushing it towards the center of the table, making sure the dice didn’t turn over.

“So.” Stan folded his hands and rest them on the table. “Ya still plannin’ on kickin’ me out at the end of the summer or not?”

Ford sighed and ran the fingers of one hand through his hair. “I want my house and my life back Stanley. But that doesn’t mean I want you out of either one, either.”

Stan blinked blankly. “Wait. Yer not kickin’ me out?”

“...I’ve seen what the people here think of you. You’ve made such a large mark here that my coming here has caused an uproar. And--” Ford stopped himself, then sighed and turned his gaze away from Stanley.

“...and I’m not sure if I should stay.”

The room was silent.

“Bullshit.”

Ford blinked when he heard Stan swear.

“I drifted for over ten years and I was still able to settle into this place. You really need to learn to take better care of houses, Ford; this place was starting to fall apart even before I started turning it into the Mystery Shack. I know yer keepin’ things to yourself, so I won’t push ya, but really, did you really think a portal was going to be able to help?”

Ford didn’t say anything, but he looked back at Stan. As soon as their eyes locked, something in Stan’s face shifted.

“All right, you don’t want to talk about that either; fine, then.” Stan folded his arms across his chest. “If you don’t want to talk about that, what do you?”

Ford let out an alien curse, causing Stan’s eyebrows to shoot up. “Stanley, do you really expect me to know? I’ve been in other dimensions for thirty years, I don’t know Earth etiquette as much as I used to, and in case you haven’t noticed--”

“Yer havin’ a hard time adjustin’ an’ that’s why yer thinkin’ of leavin’,” Stan finished. When Ford stared at him with a wide-eyed expression, Stan snorted. “Ya really think I haven’t noticed, Poindexter? You’ve jumped at the coffee machine turnin’ on every mornin’ like a shot’s gone off, ya’ve been stayin’ in the basement rather than sleepin’ anywhere else in the house, an’ ya definitely didn’t know not ta give kids weapons.”

“Mabel has a grappling hook, I simply made a logical progression from that to a crossbow!”

“Which was the same one you pointed at my face when I got here thirty years ago, if I remember correctly,” Stan replied shortly.

“Stanley--”

“Not right in the head, yeah, yeah, yeah. You don’t think I know? Ya kinda gave it away when you demanded if I’d come to steal yer eyes.” Stan pointed at his own. “Now, like I said, I won’t bug ya about whatever it is that got ya thinkin’ about makin’ a portal or what ya did on the other side, but--”

“There are other things to talk about,” Ford responded dully.

“Yeah. Starting with what the heck you were thinking when you decided to call me in only to send me off.” Stan slammed his hands down on the table, causing Dipper’s dice to bounce a little. “You wanna know what I thought? I thought we were gonna get back together and do what we always talked about when we were kids! And then you went about kicking me out again!”

“You did not know what I was going through at the time!” Ford snapped back. “I-I thought that the world was going to end if I didn’t do something.”

Stan jerked back a little. “Then why didn’t you tear it apart?”

“It was research.”

“Research schmesearch -- if I were you I would have torn the thing down because my life was more important! You nerds like your books more than your own lives!”

“It’s the one thing we can contribute to society; of course we consider it more important than our lives!”

Stan’s wide-eyed stare took a moment to sink in, as did the words Ford had just yelled across the table. His own eyes widened as he sat back in his chair and groaned, running a hand down his face and refusing to look at Stan.

Stan sighed. “We’re both screwed, aren’t we?”

Ford made a noise that sounded like a mix between a hum and a grumble. This was not how he had been expecting this conversation to --

Wait. Both?

Ford raised his head and looked at Stan oddly. Stan saw the look and raised his hands.

“Oh, no. We’re not goin’ inta that. I’m not buggin’ you, yer not buggin’ me.”

Ford eyed him for a moment longer, then dropped his head again and shook it slowly. He reached into his coat and pulled out a canteen, which he took a swig of.

“I mean, I wasn’ out there for thirty years, but...ya get the idea.” Stan paused. “What’s in that?”

“Something from another dimension.” Ford had honestly forgotten which one it was by now. “It’s strong; I don’t know if you’d be able to handle it.”

Stan rose from his chair and came over, motioning with one hand. “Try me.”

Ford hesitated, but when Stan persisted he reluctantly handed the canteen over.

Stan took a swig of the canteen’s contents and blinked rapidly. “Whoa. That’s strong stuff. How is it ya don’t look even buzzed?”

“When you travel through multiple worlds, you tend to learn quickly that you need an iron stomach.” Ford took the canteen back and hid it in his coat again.

“Geez. And I thought that eating out of garbage bins gave me an iron stomach.”

Ford snorted. “We’re both messed up, aren’t we?” This conversation was going better than he had been expecting it to; he’d thought that they would have gotten into a fist fight by now over one thing or another. The worst thing they’d done was raise their voices at each other.

Was this his luck coming into play? Or was it something else?

Stan didn’t say anything, simply standing near where Ford sat with a confused expression. “So, uh...are the kids gonna come back and see us blubbering like old men?”

Ford snorted at the mental image and shook his head. “I doubt it.”

Stan mimicked the snort. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Well, uh...I’m gonna go work on some exhibits. If, uh...if ya wanna talk, I’ll be around.” He started to move out of the kitchen.

“Stanley, wait.”

Stan paused in the doorway and looked back at Ford.

Ford hesitated, then shook his head. “There’s a safe trail through the woods that I used to walk in the mornings. I’m planning on starting to do that again early tomorrow. I’d…” He paused, bit his lower lip. “I’d appreciate some company.”

“I don’t do early,” Stan said, after a moment.

“Afternoon, then -- it only takes fifteen minutes, I swear.”

“I’ll, uh…” Stan drummed his fingers against the wall. “I’ll think about it.” And then he was out of the kitchen without another word.

When Dipper and Mabel came back in the early evening, one carrying a chest full of gold and gems and the other soaked in rainbow blood and with rainbow hair in her hands, they found the tension in the house less oppressive than it had been, but still present. That night, after the barrier was put up, Ford didn’t retreat into the basement to sleep, and instead disappeared into the room that had once had the electron carpet -- he noticed absently that the carpet had been removed, but he wasn’t about to go looking for it right at that moment.

He was honestly looking forward to getting some proper rest for once.

[crossroadsdimension]

GF Drabble

So, this is just a quick little entry for @forduary that I threw together. It’s based off the “Portal” theme for the first week of the month, but I threw a bit of an AU thing in there -- we’ve got @leukaraii‘s Evil!Stan (aka Fish) chasing a Ford, and Ford kiiiinda ends his portal travels a little earlier than I think Cipher would have liked. Heh heh; no rift in the basement here. :)

Also tagging @howtotrainyournana; @blankrslate07; and @happy-fazzbear-ponies2 because I think they’d like to read this little drabble of mine.

No title for this one yet, but a temporary one is “Feeling Lucky?”

Ford was abnormally lucky when compared to his counterparts -- the Ford from Dimension K-6297, at any rate. His near-impossible lucky streak had gotten him in and out of heists for parts and supplies, bounty hunter pursuits, and accidental run-ins with less-than-desirable characters more than most would be able to count. Even he’d stopped counting long after he’d ended up on the other side of the portal, which was a length of time that he’d long stopped trying to count, as well.

Even Jheselbraum had commented on his abnormally lucky state, saying that she was surprised he hadn’t managed to get back to his home dimension sooner.

Blaster fire danced at Ford’s feet behind him, and he quickly picked up the pace as he shook himself out of his thoughts.

“Get back here, Fordsy!” yelled a gravely voice from behind him. “I wanna see how lucky you really are!”

It wouldn’t do to let his thoughts wander, when he was being chased by the Fish for the fifth time in his life.

Ford turned sharply and scrambled down an alley as Fish cackled behind him. “I don’t think my luck is going to let you catch me, Stanley!” he yelled back.

That got him a low snarl and more blaster shots aimed at his behind; a few kicked over trash collectors took those shots instead of him. “We’ll see about that, Poindexter! Yer not gettin’ away from me this time!”

That’s what he always says. Ford grinned a little to himself at the thought of the last few times that the two of them had happened to run into each other.

He caught sight of a metal fence up ahead and leapt against a wall before somersaulting over and landing on the other side before bolting again and getting out into an open street flooded with aliens and creatures from all walks of life. Booths lined the sidewalks, filled with various foods, trinkets, and clothes, and the air was filled with chattering of multiple languages that filtered through the translator Ford was wearing.

A market. And a crowded market, no less.

Ford took no time in making his way into the crowd in an attempt to disappear, glancing over his shoulder for a moment to see if Fish was following after him.

He was. The man with Ford’s face and a silver mullet had just left the alley and was scanning the crowd with his still-human eye. Or, at least, visibly human eye -- Ford had heard rumors about how the other one looked like Bill’s, but he hadn’t ever seen it for himself.

Ford turned around quickly and wove deeper into the crowd, trying to keep any thoughts of Fish or other bounty hunters in the multiverse out of his head. He just had to get out of this dimension alive and continue to concentrate on finding a way back home, not worry about what could happen if Fish managed to catch him this time.

Or any other bounty hunter, for that matter. There had been rumors of a Ford joining their ranks recently….

Ford shook his head and nearly avoided bumping against a man with pointed ears and slightly green-tinged skin. I shouldn’t think about them now. I just need to buy me some time so that I can stay away from Fish for a little while longer.

He stepped out of the crowd at the other end of the street, looked around again, then caught sight of a boarded-up building and slipped in through the yawning, darkened entrance.

“Hello, Dr. Pines.”

Ford stiffened at the sound of a voice, and he quickly moved away from the entrance and reached under his coat for a weapon. His eyes scanned the darkness quickly, trying to catch sight of the source of the voice. “Who’s there? How do you know me?”

“Calm yourself, Dr. Pines; I’m only here to assist, not arrest.” There came the sound of something metallic clanking against the ground, and a figure stepped into the light streaming in from the open doorway: an adolescent in cobalt and green armor, the child himself with indigo-colored eyes and brown hair cut short.

Ford frowned. The figure looked so human, and yet… “Who are you?”

“Joshua Langstrom.” The young man held his arms out on either side of him, spreading his fingers in their white gloves wide. “I mean you no harm, I assure you.”

“Then how do you know me?” Ford glanced towards the open doorway. If Fish was able to figure out where he was through inhuman means, he doubted that he had much time before the monster that was his brother’s counterpart managed to find him. And fighting him inside a building would not produce the best of odds.

“Who doesn’t know about Stanford Pines and his counterparts?” Joshua responded. “I myself am from a dimension where you’re considered fictional, but that’s not the reason I’m here.”

Ford glanced over at Joshua at that, eyes narrowing. “Then what is?”

“I can offer you a ride to a dimension that is far closer to home than you are right now.”

That would be Ford’s luck kicking in again. “Is there a catch?”

“No catch. It’s just something that I do.”

“Then why is it that I haven’t heard of you?”

“Heeeerrrre, Fordsy Fordsy Fordsy,” came a crooning voice outside the building. “I know you’re hiding somewhere….”

“People like me tend to keep to the shadows and don’t reveal ourselves easily, especially with people like him looking for those who would be capable of forcing gates to open to specific dimensions,” Joshua replied seriously. “I’d rather not be found by that one’s master, and I doubt that you do, either. So.” He held out his right hand. “Are you willing to trust me?”

Ford hesitated. His instincts were screaming at him to not trust this child who claimed to have a way home for him, but there was something else that was telling him that this kid might be what it was that he needed in order to get back to where he needed to be.

Was that his desperate hope making itself known?

Or was that his luck?

“Come out, come out, wherever you are….”

Ford knew that he and his counterparts weren’t known for being cautious in the best of circumstances. “Fine.” He pulled his hand out from his coat and grabbed the kid’s hand.

Joshua’s indigo eyes sparked, and one end of his mouth quirked up slightly. “K-6297? I think I can do you better than getting you closer.” He slipped his hand out of Ford’s grip.

“What are you--”

Joshua snapped his fingers, cutting Ford off as a blue flash suddenly went off under his feet, and he fell through a portal with a yelp of surprise.

The next thing Ford knew, he was sitting on the wooden floor of what appeared to be a bedroom of some kind.

And there was a boy with a blue and white trucker cap with a pine tree symbol on it staring at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Hello, Dipper,” Joshua said casually, causing Ford’s eyes to shoot over to the boy who was standing calmly next to him.

Ford quickly rose to his feet, turning his attention to the other rather than the child who was staring at him. “Do you realize what you’ve just done?! You ripped a hole in space and time -- and not a natural one, at that! That should have created--”

“A rift, like what the machine that is in the basement of this very house is capable of?” Joshua finished casually. “This is your attic, after all.”

The boy -- Dipper, apparently -- squeaked. Loudly.

Ford stared at him, then turned his head sharply to look around the room. He saw two beds -- one covered in stuffed animals, the other being Dipper’s, more than likely -- and recognized none of it as his. Then he saw the triangular window, and the trees beyond it, and he knew.

But he had to be certain.

“You said you could do me one better than get me closer to home,” Ford hissed at Joshua.

“This is your home,” Joshua replied. “Dimension K-6297. You still carry its dimensional signature, you know -- it’s a wonderful tracking device for World Jumpers like myself. I’m glad that this one was actually one that I could reach; there have been a few that I’ve been barred from because of various obstacles.”

“World Jumper? Those are nothing more than myths! It’s impossible that people can create stable portals--”

“Just like the one we arrived here through?” Joshua raised an eyebrow as Ford found himself suddenly struck speechless. “The multiverse is far more vast than it seems to be at first glance, Dr. Pines. You are, in fact, home, and with no chance of your enemy of being able to follow us here. Now, I suggest you go downstairs and make sure that Stanley hasn’t activated your Rift Maker yet. And get to know your great-niece and nephew while you’re here? It wouldn’t do if they simply knew you as the strange man who lives in their basement and plans to kick out their other great-uncle at the end of the summer.”

With that said, Joshua snapped his fingers, and dropped through a perfectly circular blue portal that suddenly appeared in the floor before it closed up, leaving no sign of any sort of tear in space-time.

Ford stared at the place where Joshua had been standing for a moment. Lucky indeed. He turned his head to look over at Dipper, who was still staring at him with wide eyes.

The man held up a six-fingered hand and waved a little. “Ah...greetings?”

The resulting excited shriek from the boy caused the window to shatter.