#fidds definitely had to fix ford's computer

[a-mad-scientist-approaches]

Multiverse is a Curse Word (3)

Here it is, another chapter. I have about half of this fic already all written out, so updates will be pretty close together and regular for a while. 

Adeline Marks is @hntrgurl13‘s OC, and the Dimension Jumper and Drifting Dimensions AUs that are, I dunno, crossovers for this fic also belong to her.

The Adrift AU was made by @the-subpar-ghost, but the accompanying Drifting Stars fic is not the origin story for this one.

Addiford has, yet again, not arrived, but you might be able to see it as a speck in the distance now. The ship is from @scipunk63.

Gravity Falls is amazing, Alex Hirsch is a genius.

@deadpool-demon-diva and @thejesterlyfictionista, your contributions are the unfailing encouragement you give me.

AO3  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11

Chapter 3: Stanford Pines, Guardian of the Year

When Ford awoke, he was content. Not simply as the default state of waking up unhurt and momentarily safe, but really, truly happy. The last time he had felt so good he had had a home, a family, and a future.

He heard Mabel laugh and turned his head toward the sound. It filled him up with warmth and light.

She was sitting with her legs crossed on a recovery bed, talking animatedly to a green octopus-like person wearing a black medical band on one of their appendages. They had no visible mouth, but their voice emanated from somewhere under their main body, so Ford assumed they had a beak like many cephalopods on Earth. The room all three of them were in was unmistakeably a small hospital ward, with barely enough room for two patients. A two-way mirror encompassed one wall, the reflective side facing him and Mabel. This did not bother him as much as it normally would have.

“Wow, your tentacles are amazing! They’re so much handier than hands!”

The being chuckled and affectionately ruffled Mabel’s hair. “They’re pretty useful. I can do all sorts of things with them.” To prove their point, they curled three around to spell out “Kot.”

“That’s your name! Can you do mine?” The girl asked eagerly.

“Sure.” Five tentacles twirled around until “Mabel” was written out in neat cursive.

“That is the coolest thing I have ever seen in my entire life,” Mabel gasped enthusiastically.

“Hey, looks like my other patient is awake.” Kot noticed suddenly, moving over to Ford’s bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Placid,” he answered honestly. He wondered if it was normal that everything seemed slowed down, so much less urgent than before.

“That’s the sedative. It should wear off soon.” The doctor explained. Ford tried not to feel disappointed.

“While you were both out I vaccinated you against the virus you picked up; it’s particularly nasty, originally a bioweapon manufactured by Wikert Expansion Enterprises. Only their scientists know how to counteract it, so you are very lucky I defected, and even more lucky I was here when you arrived,” Kot stared meaningfully at Ford, but the impact of their words was lost on him. The most he could do was try to nod seriously.

“I also had to synthesise Mabel’s blood and perform a transfusion to keep it from advancing into the third stage. I assumed that would be okay as you do seem to care for her well-being, although this was a bit of a toss-up seeing as you tried to attack me when I was getting her help,” Again, the barbed comment did little to disrupt Ford’s complacency.

“A thank you would be nice,” Kot said sharply.

“Thank you,” Ford said, channelling as much gratitude as he could into the words.

“You’re welcome.” With that, the doctor spun around and headed through the exit. “Whenever you like, Mabel. Feel free to take your time.”

Mabel smiled her acknowledgement of the cryptic message and hopped off her bed to approach Ford.

“You look really happy.” she said conversationally. “It’s weird. Usually you’re a big frowny-face.”

Ford laughed. “I expect I’ll be back to being grumpy soon, never fear.” It was strange how soft everything felt. He stretched out a hand and tucked a lock of hair behind his niece’s ear. “That was clever thinking, with the resistance signal. I would not have remembered it, especially if I had been as sick as you. You’re a smart person, Mabel.”

When she beamed at the praise it was as though the Sun had come out.

“Friendship is the best weapon to fight with!” she said wisely. “Metaphorically, I mean. Literally, it’s probably those cannons we saw on Tetrax 4.”

Despite the sedative’s uncannily effective soothing power, the reality of how close they had both come to the doors of death was starting to sink in. Still not removing his hand from cupping the back of her head, Ford felt a surge of affection for his niece.

“Mabel, I love you so much, and I am so glad you’re safe,”

“Awww, I love you too,” she gave him a warm hug, grinning broadly. Ford was pretty sure she was laughing at his ridiculously lucid state, however this same state kept him from being bothered.

“The resistance people want to talk to you.” Mabel said, pulling back.

“Okay.” Ford nodded, sitting up.

“But you gotta promise you’re not gonna freak out and go all paranoid. Kot said they know that’s a running thing with you.” Mabel gave him a stern look. Bemused, Ford promised.

“YOU CAN COME IN NOW!” Mabel yelled at the two-way mirror.

The door swung open and Adeline Marks stepped through. The first thing she did was walk over and swat Ford’s shoulder.

⃝

Beyond the mirror was a small room with a station that monitored the health of the patients. This was where Adeline took him to berate him for running off and almost dying. By the time she had finished he was sure the sedative was wearing off, as he was no longer in as good a mood as previously. He wondered why she cared.

Adeline was not wearing her overcoat.

“Where’s your necklace?” He asked, tendrils of suspicion starting to creep back into his mind.

“I took it off so you wouldn’t get the wrong idea again,”

After a slight hesitation, she pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to him. It was a plain gold triangle, no decorations of any kind. Most significantly, it did not even have the barest hint of a circle in the middle to act as an eye. There was no way Cipher was watching through this.

“Alright,” he relented, giving it back. “I apologise. However, you can’t blame me for reacting the way I did. Why do you have something like that?”

“It’s the only thing I have left from home.” Adeline said simply. “I’ve had it for over thirty years, ever since I fell through the portal. I’m not giving it up now.”

Ford nodded in understanding. After a few quiet seconds, Adeline ventured, “So … when you built your portal, I wasn’t there?”

“No, only Fidds,” he winced.

“Did you come through on purpose?” It was impossible to miss the hopeless pleading in her question, the idea that there might be a way home hovering just out of reach.

“I’m sorry, no. It … was an accident,” That did not stop him from being angry.

As though she had read his thoughts, Adeline said sympathetically, “I was angry for a while too. Even though it was an accident, and I’d managed to tell you what Bill was planning, what was on the other side … I still wanted you to open that portal back up and come find me. Which was selfish, I know,” she sighed, “and I’m glad you didn’t. Fate of the world and all.”

Unsure how to respond, Ford kept quiet. Relative strangers unloading their issues onto him as though he was some interdimensional travelling therapist was not a frequent occurrence in his life.

They were shaken out of their thoughts by Mabel’s laugh from inside the recovery room. Kot was entertaining her with more tentacle tricks.

“Is she yours?” Adeline smiled, tilting her head towards the scene.

“No, no.” Ford said quickly. “My brother’s, sort of, I mean, she’s my great-niece.”

“Oh. Sorry. She’s a sweet kid. I was just wondering how she ended up out here,”

“Another accident with the portal,” Ford said darkly. “She doesn’t like to talk about it, but apparently something went wrong when Stanley, my other brother, turned it on trying to get me back. So, she ended up here – in this hellscape called the multiverse.”

Seemingly unperturbed by the grim atmosphere the room had adopted, Adeline nudged him light-heartedly.

“She’ll be fine. She has you to look out for her,”

“Well you’ve seen how good I’ve been at that: participated in morally questionable money-making scheme, attacked by gambler, infected with deadly bioweapon,” he checked off.

“Occupied the attention of said gambler so she could escape, leaped into action the second you thought you were no longer safe, had to be sedated before you stopped trying to protect her.” Adeline countered. “You deserve a ‘Guardian of the Year’ medal.”

He had to smile at that, and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Ford had not really thought about it before, but it had been far longer than three decades since he had felt as though he was wanted around, much less needed. He’d missed that feeling.

Ford jerked his head up to look at Adeline in horror. Shit, I didn’t say that out loud did I?

Adeline was obviously biting back another smile.

“That sedative sure is strong, huh?” she suggested.

“Yes,” he said gratefully, clearing his throat and feeling the last of it trickle away. Even without it, he felt completely at ease in her company now.

⃝

Half an hour later, Addi decided to take them to the guy who ran the place. She watched happily as Stanford and Mabel walked with her through the structure, quite impressed. It was nothing special, other than its size - all grey concrete and rectangular corridors and square rooms – however, there was not a vast number of people situated there for a building of its enormity: only about a hundred. It seemed practically deserted.

“Is this some kind of castle?” asked Mabel in awe as Addi led them into a wide, open space. “I bet this was the throne room. Kinda bland though. I can see why the monarchy crumbled.”

“No, this was a military installation of a corporation called Wikert Expansion Enterprises. A resistance cell took it back a few years ago, and it’s become a headquarters for them,”

There were groups of chairs strewn around tables, several crates full of messes of machinery, and a couple huddles of people playing card games here and there.

“Quite the operation you have here,” Stanford said dryly, looking around at the absence of activity.

“Well it is only the afternoon. It’ll fill up later tonight.” The man looked at her. “Alright, not by much.” She admitted.

“Yeah Grunkle Ford, they’re all on secret missions to fight injustice! How can we help?” Mabel enthused.

“No.” Stanford said sharply. “We will not be getting involved with these people any more than we have to.”

“In that case, hopefully you will soon be on your way,” a new voice said.

Addi smiled at her friend, who shook hands with Stanford and Mabel. He looked like an upright polar bear, but with four arms and a face more human than snoutish. His appearance obviously delighted Mabel, who took the opportunity to stroke his fur during their handshake.

“Creepy.” He noted, slightly taken aback. “I am in charge of this resistance cell. My name is-” he made a growling, barking sound.

Stanford stared. Stanford looked at Addi expressionlessly.

“I call him Wesley,” she deadpanned.

“I do like that name.” Wesley nodded.

“Can I still call you-” Mabel replicated the sound exactly.

“You may,”

“Cool,”

Amazed at the girl’s vocal skills, Addi pulled out a chair at nearby table, gesturing for the others to join her.

“I of course have no wish to force you into our ranks. I know that not every resistance can be pleasant to get along with, as you have mentioned to Marks here. There are always a few that are keen to go to extremes,”

“Thank you for understanding.” Stanford said slowly. “I’m sure you have good intentions, but it’s not something I want to involve a child in.”

“Reasonable. We have room for you here, if you wish to stay – for however long you please. I will require a small favour in return, though.” Before Ford could reply, Wesley continued. “The technological floor of this building has many secrets that are sealed off from us. We have had some issues dismantling security protocols, and although Marks here has managed to get us most of the way, we seem to have hit a wall.”

“I mentioned that you’re a physicist, and you did a lot of coding in university.” Addi supplied, slightly apologetically. “I don’t know if you kept it up?”

“Yes, actually, I have a doctorate in it now,”

Stanford’s voice was casual, but Addi could practically see the smugness radiating from him.

Oh yes, I earnt a doctorate in technology and coding while travelling through dimensions, no biggie, in your face Fiddleford, I can fix my own computer now …

She had to fight to hold in her laughter.

“Grunkle Ford’s, like, the biggest nerd ever, even bigger than my brother, and that’s saying something let me tell you.” Mabel told Wesley earnestly. “Grunkle Ford, if you don’t unlock this resistance’s lab, your nerd card will be revoked. Revoked I say!”

“I’ll do my best,” Stanford half-laughed.

“That is all I can ask.” Said Wesley fairly. “The main system is right here …” he waved a hand and the table sprouted a hologram. Mabel whoooaaaaed at the sudden light show, and Stanford sat forward, examining the lines of code intently. After a moment he nodded and brought up a keyboard.

⃝

Mabel was starting to fidget. Addi watched as she swivelled around in her chair to look at the rest of the so-called “wreck-room”, then went back to staring at the colours in the hologram, then played with the edge of her uncle’s coat, then asked Wesley about his beaded necklace, then about the animal his boots were made of, and so on. To be honest, Adeline was getting bored too. Stanford clearly did not need any help.

“Hey Mabel, want to do something cool?” she asked impulsively.

“Do I?!” Mabel answered in relief. “Yes. Yes I do. Very much. Please.”

“Come on then.” Addi got up and nodded to a space a little way away.

“Stay close,” Stanford said absently, still absorbed in typing commands into the system.

When they got to the space she had indicated, Mabel asked eagerly, “So what are we doing?”

“Well, I thought you might want to learn some sword-fighting.” Addi grinned and drew Big Bertha. Its razor-sharp curved edge glinted, and an elliptical section cut out of it especially drew the eye. The girl was entranced.

“She’s beautiful …” breathed Mabel, eyes wide. “You’re like a pirate! Do you swashbuckle often?”

“Um … I wouldn’t know how to,”

“She looks sharp. Do you want me to hold her? I mean, sure, I could have some hidden sword-fighting ability we’re about to unlock-”

“No, no, let’s stick to the safer method.” Addi said hastily. “There’s a couple levers in that box behind you we’ll use. And it might be best if you take off your coat. You’re going to get pretty warm.”

⃝

“Nooooooo! You’ve defeated me! Curse your hour and a half of training!” Addi wasn’t quite sure when their lesson had evolved into a pirate-themed play-date, but she did not regret it.

“Arrrrrgh! I hereby claim your treasure and your ship, and cast your crewmates overboard to be eaten by sharks!”

“Dude,”

“Sorry. Nevermind! I cast your crewmates overboard onto dry land, where they can set up a nice restaurant and be forced to earn their booty through legal means!”

With that, Mabel flopped down on the ground beside Addi, both of them breathing hard. There had been some intensive play-acting.

Stanford and Wesley, who had left sometime previously, returned in triumph.

“Finished! There was a hidden firewall which activated some armed robots and almost set off an explosion, but I got to it in the nick of time. Anyway, how’d you two go?”

“Good. Addi taught me how to thrust, swing, block, and jump across pirate ships with a barrel of treasure in my arms,” recounted Mabel.

“She’s a natural, your niece.” Addi grinned up at Stanford. “Want some food?”

At their fervent replies, she motioned for Stanford to help her up.

“Cantina’s that way,” she said as he pulled her to her feet.

Another half hour later, Mabel finished her third bowl of soup and nudged Addi, who was sitting to her left on an extremely old couch. Stanford was on Mabel’s other side, warming his hands on a large can with a fire in it.

“Are they more resisters?” she was pointing at a group who had entered and were giving them curious looks.

“Yeah. Do me a favour and keep away from them. I’ll make sure they do the same for you,”

“Don’t you trust them? You’re involved with their movement,” Stanford frowned.

“I trust Wesley, and I think he has a good cause. But some of his methods can be questionable, and the people he gets involved … well, I don’t stick around for a reason. They’re … really not nice,” She had to keep herself from saying “fucking psychopaths” in the presence of a twelve-year-old. Fortunately, Stanford seemed to get the message.

“Mercenaries?” he switched to another language.

“Some,” she replied grimly.

“Hey! Include me,” demanded Mabel, nudging her uncle in his ribs. Her eyes widened as he jolted away, a small laugh escaping him.

“Are you ticklish?”

“… No,” the man said warily.

“Don’t listen to him Mabel, he’s the most ticklish person I’ve ever met.”

Before Stanford could open his mouth to form the word “traitor”, Mabel was on him, unleashing a battle cry of “I can’t believe I never knew!”

Addi covered her face with her hands, snorting at the panic emanating from the opposite end of the couch. After a few minutes of torture, Stanford managed to catch his niece’s hands amidst his involuntary spasming and restrain her enough to regain his breath and wipe his eyes clear of tears.

“I think I might have to get the security footage for this room.” Addi teased. “I’ll watch it whenever I’m sad and it’ll put me in a good mood for days.”

“Surrender!” cackled Mabel.

Stanford grinned and gave her a look. “You first,” was all the warning Mabel got before she was squealing and writhing around in turn, Stanford’s extra fingers doing a number on her.

“Help!” Mabel begged Addi.

“Uh, I’m sorry, a lack of treasure and pirate crewmates prevents me from performing any daring rescues,”

With that, Mabel was only released when she threatened to pee herself. Weakly, she retreated to the safety of Adeline’s end of the couch and sprawled across her, still gasping and giggling occasionally.

Definitely going to have to grab that security tape, Addi thought, wrapping an arm around the girl and laughing herself.

⃝

“You can stay in here tonight. All your equipment’s in the corner.” Addi directed as Mabel walked into the door-less room and collapsed on the bed. “You’ll have to share, sorry.”

“No, this is actually preferable.” Stanford said, glancing at the opening.

“All the old offices are like this.” Apologised Addi. “See you in the morning then.”

“Goodnight,”

She made it halfway down the corridor towards her own room before she heard the footsteps. Then she turned and hurried back the way she came.

Reaching her friends’ room, she seized the creature peering inside and shoved him against the opposite wall.

“Get. Away. From. Them,” she hissed.

“Aww, come on Marks, I just wanted a little look,”

“Well unfortunately you got it. Now scram!”

“But they’re humans! They only human I ever see around here is you, and you’re no fun anymore,” Dek wheedled.

Pushing down the sick feeling in her stomach, she sent his spindly form stumbling down the corridor with a well-aimed punch.

“I’m only going to tell you once: back off!” said Addi in a low voice. She reinforced the warning by flicking the switch on Big Bertha. The electric field it generated to disrupt and deflect lasers also worked as a deterrent against some species, thankfully. Snarling, he retreated, seeing that the only thing he would be getting for staying was trouble.

Adeline stationed herself outside Stanford and Mabel’s room.

Looks like another sleepless night on watch.

Regrettably, she doubted Dek was the worst visitor she would encounter that night.

[a-mad-scientist-approaches]

The Cipher Conspiracy (1)

Another fic! What is this! 

I had a massive brainwave some time ago, and this is what happened. A Gravity Falls Spy AU. 

I don’t know if the Spy AU in general belongs to anyone, let me know if it does, but this was kickstarted by @hntrgurl13‘s version (with a few changes, sorry, sorry) and that one story anon. My imagination was CAPTURED, I tell you.

Adeline Marks is @hntrgurl13‘s marvellous OC, and the Addiford ship belongs to @scipunk63.

AO3  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14

Chapter 1: Numero Uno

Sacramento, California (USA)    ∆

Stanley Pines knocked briefly on the office door before making his way inside and sitting familiarly in a chair. Not the comfy swivel chair behind the desk. That hadn’t been appreciated when he’d tried it.

“I’m finished for the day,” he said, stretching his arms out behind his head.

“Must be nice,” huffed Senior Special Agent Carla McCorkle of the FBI from over at her filing cabinet.

Oh. One of those days.

“Case not going well?”

“It would be, if one of these idiots could get me the right information, and not lead me on a wild goose chase TO THE PIZZA PARLOUR!” she finished in a shout, turning to direct it across the hall at the office opposite hers. A muffled (and maybe English-accented?) yell answered her, but the words couldn’t be discerned. Although Stan was pretty sure they weren’t polite.

He frowned. “You need me to teach that guy a lesson?”

“Believe me, I already did,” Carla flashed a malevolent grin and walked past him back to her desk.

“That’s my girl!” He took the opportunity to pat her butt. Instantly, she whipped around and gave him a death glare that made him quail. “Okay! Okay! Sorry!”

Not the time. Got it.

A tower of files was dumped on the desk, enough to obscure Carla when she sat down in the coveted swivel chair. Not for the first time, Stan was immensely glad that he had never completed the FBI training course. Best to leave the paperwork to people who actually had the patience to get through it, like Carla, or Fo-

“Y’know, we were getting so close. What the hell happened? Suddenly we can’t gain an inch on these guys!”

“These guys being the-” Stan stood up and looked at the name on the topmost file – “Cipher Wheel?”

“Yep. Whoever’s running the show goes by Bill Cipher, according to rumour. We don’t have anything concrete to back that up, though,”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Stan said easily. Carla grunted unhappily.

Time to break out the big guns, he decided.

He stepped between Carla and the desk, the chair rolling backwards. She didn’t look happy to have her work interrupted, but Stan was confident that that would change soon.

“I have a present for you,” he told her, putting his hands on the chair’s armrests.

“Pines,” she warned.

“You’ll enjoy it, I promise,”

“We’re at the FBI!”

He leaned closer. Before she could threaten to eject him from the building, he shoved a hand in his jacket pocket and brought out a white-petalled flower. While she stared at it, he tried to keep the smugness off his face.

“You lost your other one,” he shrugged, by way of explanation.

For the first time since she’d gotten to work, Carla laughed slightly.

Mission accomplished.

She took the flower and kissed him gently. “See you back home?”

“You know it, babe,”

As he was leaving, Stan gave a mock salute and said, “Until tomorrow, Special Agent McCorkle,”

“That’s Senior Special Agent McCorkle, Mr Pines,”

When Carla made it back to their apartment (a full three hours later than himself), she had the flower tucked behind her ear.

Manhattan, New York (USA)    ∆

“Fidds, what the hell happened?” Agent Adeline Marks stared in shock at her partner, who was covered from head to toe in muck. His normally green suit was completely brown and black.

With as much dignity as he could muster, Agent Fiddleford McGucket took off his glasses and wiped them clean, then placed them back on his long nose. “I’ve just crawled through five hundred heckin’ metres of basement to fix our gosh-darn processin’ system, and I don’t think it was worth it,”

Addi stared at him pityingly for a moment. “You could have waited for the clean-up crew to get rid of the mess down there,”

“I was getting frustrated, and I wasn’t sure they weren’t goin’ to reschedule again.” He sighed. “They wouldn’t keep doin’ that if they knew what our building was a cover for.”

Addi nodded, and Fiddleford knew she was wistfully reminiscing of the prioritisation they had had before their branch was supposedly shut down.

“Well anyway, you know we’ve got a meeting now? I think it’s a new assignment,” she said.

Fiddleford groaned as he looked down at himself, and then back at the mud trail he had left coming through the elevator doors. It had definitely not been worth it. A passing agent slipped in the tracks, papers flying everywhere.

“Alrighty, let’s get this over with,” Quickly, so I can have a shower.

They headed up to their boss’s floor.

Sacramento, California (USA)    ∆

“Hope you like fish! It’s all we had,” called Stan from the stove as Carla dumped her bag on the couch.

“Smells great,” she said in relief, wrapping her arms around him from behind and burying her head in the crook of his neck.

“Geez, you really need a holiday,” said Stan, knowing what the answer would be.

“Not until the case is done,” she mumbled.

“And then you gotta promise you’ll give it a rest for a while,”

“You betcha. I am so sick of these hours,”

They stayed like that for a little while, until Stan noticed the fish was burning. As he hurriedly took it off the heat and waved away the smoke, Carla sat down at the kitchen table and examined their mail.

“Bills, neighbours having a party tomorrow, more bills – huh. A postcard,”

“Well, I don’t have any friends – any who want to contact me anyway – and all yours live around here. So who’s it from?” Stan set a plate down in front of her.

“Doesn’t say, exactly.” She looked up at him curiously. “Take a look.” She passed it over as he sat down on the opposite side of the table.

The postcard showed a forest and a cliff-face with a waterfall running down it. In big orange and green block letters, the words ‘Gravity Falls’ were emblazoned across it.

“Never heard of it,” said Stan, and turned it over. He almost dropped it in shock. As Carla had said, there was no address, no message, not even a name. There was a drawing. A hand. A six-fingered hand.

He looked up at Carla. “Ford?”

“It looks like it,” she nodded, clasping her hands in front of her face. “It’s been, what, five years?”

Stan took a deep breath. “I – I’ve gotta-” He stood up and ran his hands through his hair, staring between her and the postcard helplessly.

“Yeah I know! Go!” Carla said, smiling widely and standing up as well. “Come on, you have to pack!”

Stan laughed incredulously as they raced to the bedroom. He was feeling simultaneously scared and overjoyed. Before Carla could extract his suitcase, he pulled her in for a hard kiss and hugged her tightly.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,”

“No, it’s okay, take your time. I think you’ll need to. He wouldn’t have contacted you unless he needed something,”

Well, that hurt. But she was right. It wasn’t Ford’s fault, not really, and truth be told they hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms. He should be glad he was getting to see his brother at all.

“I should probably bring some cereal,”

“Good idea,”

Manhattan, New York (USA)    ∆

The Oracle Division had been created for the sole purpose of finding and eliminating the worldwide threat posed by an organisation known as the Cipher Wheel. The only problem was, as they soon found, no one had ever knowingly encountered an agent of this organisation. No one had ever admitted to having dealings with the organisation, even through a middle-man. There wasn’t even any evidence to back up the rumour that the head of the organisation’s name was Bill Cipher. So far, the only thing that the agency had managed to collect was a wide variety of symbols that the criminal underground had used in connection with the Cipher Wheel. Of course, they had so far led nowhere. Still, the government maintained that it existed.

So, due to the extreme lack of work available for the Oracle Division, it was a very small agency, and until anything to do with the Cipher Wheel was brought to their attention it was assigned other cases for efficiency purposes. Furthermore, as the Oracle Division was classified in an ultra-top-secret manner, it had to be hidden. Thus, why it had recently been relocated to a tiny five-storey building in Manhattan.

Adeline reflected on this as Fiddleford knocked on their director’s door. It was still surreal knowing they were the only field operatives in the whole agency.

“Come in,”

They entered.

“Well, agents, I’m sure you know – Fiddleford, are you okay?”

Fiddleford dripped onto the carpet. “Sorry ma’am, I was seein’ to the processing system,”

“Well, you have my thanks. It really did need something done for it. You’ll be hailed as a hero tomorrow.” The director smiled. “I’ll make this quick so you can go clean yourself up.”

“Thank you,” Fiddleford sighed.

“As I was saying, I’m sure you’ve guessed why you’re here,”

“You have a mission for us,” Addi said.

“Correct.” The tall, dark-skinned woman stood up from behind her desk and turned on a projector. An image of a bemused-looking woman appeared on the blank stretch of wall.

“This is Dr Jane Hansen. She is a chemist who has developed a new material with extraordinary refractive, reflective, and focal properties, called shimmern. This could be used to revolutionise the technological industry, for instance providing greater laser capabilities, enhancing computer operations, and creating a far cheaper way to manufacture stealth products.” The director nodded approvingly at Addi and Fiddleford’s raised eyebrows.

“Dr Hansen, however, is a very gentle soul who has insisted on using the only existing sample to create a fabulous piece of jewellery for her wife, which made our superiors rather frustrated,��� the director said with a small smile.

The image changed to show a photo of Dr Hansen in her house, presenting a glittery, tear-shaped pendant on a silver chain to another woman. The picture was taken through the leaves of a bush.

“Aww,” said Addi. It was a very sweet scene, captured forever in an ethically questionable manner. “So, you want us to obtain that necklace?” she asked, switching back to professionalism.

“Of course. As well as the method she used to create it. We’ve been asked to hold onto it until our superiors have had a chance to study, and presumably replicate, it – as Dr Hansen has made it clear she has no interest allowing it to be used for weapons or stealth technology,” the director said with only the vaguest hint of approval.

“I assume the plans’re all stored electronically?” asked Fiddleford.

“Yes, Agent McGucket,”

“Then it’ll be an easy workday, ma’am,”

“Good to hear. Dr Hansen is planning on unveiling her creation at the Centro Congressi Giovanni XXIII Convention Centre in Italy five days from now. It will be a very classy event, so, Agent Marks, I assume you have some very classy clothes?”

Addi grinned at the director. She was looking forward to this assignment. “Of course, Jheselbraum,”

Gravity Falls, Oregon (USA)    ∆

Stan walked cautiously up the stairs to the porch of 618 Gopher Road. It was a very isolated house, nestled in a forest, and yet Stan couldn’t help but feel watched. Like there were eyes pointed at him from all directions. Considering this was apparently where Ford lived, though, that wasn’t exactly surprising. He’d probably been scanned no less than eighteen times since stepping out of the car.

Trying to convince himself that everything was fine, is fine, would be fine, he knocked on the door. It was flung open instantly, and he looked down the barrel of a gun.

His hand was coming up almost as soon as the door started opening. Stan slapped it away from his face and into his other hand where he flipped it around and caught it in a two-handed grip pointing at his opponent.

Ford beamed and said, “Well done, Stanley. It’s good to see you haven’t lost your skills.” Then he stood aside as though it was perfectly normal to brandish weapons at your family members.

“I’m fine, by the way.” Stan muttered as he stepped inside. “Might’ve pissed myself, but I’m fine.”

“I assume you found my message?” asked Ford, holding out his hand for the gun, which Stan wasn’t exactly eager to return.

“You mean the one written in invisible ink on the mysterious postcard with a cryptic drawing?”

“Yes, that one,”

“Yeah Ford, I found it. Been doing that since we were kids.” Stan rolled his eyes. “But an address and ‘Please come’? You had me worried, bro.”

“I’m sorry, but there wasn’t much else I could say. I didn’t want to risk it falling into the wrong hands. By the way, you burnt that, didn’t you?”

Stan nodded. As they spoke, his eyes roamed around, taking in everything they could. Ford didn’t look like he was in any trouble. He seemed completely normal, if a bit manic, but he had been that way forever. At least he wasn’t in some deep danger like Stan had been had been fearing. Five years of silence, and then ‘Please come’? Worried was an understatement: he had almost had a heart failure.

The large room they were standing in was absolutely covered in things with Ford written all over them. Maybe even literally, if he had been indulging in the invisible ink. Technology, gadgets, weird substances in science beakers, it was all there.

Ford was looking at him oddly, with an awkward half-grin on his face like he wasn’t sure what else to say. Guess it was up to Stan to make the next move.

Crap.

He didn’t know what to do either. It was getting weird now. Should he try for a hug? No, that would make it even worse. Ford was still standing there, and now they were staring at each other. Just when Stan was on the verge of yelling “NON-SPECIFIC EXCUSE!” and making a break for it, his brother spoke up.

“So . . . you’re working for the FBI now?”

“Oh, er, you know about that?” Of course he does, it’s Ford. “And it’s more like with, not for. I’ve got connections and such, I know people. Useful for them, and I get paid when they need me, so I’m not complaining,”

Ford nodded, like this was exactly what he had wanted to hear. This is getting stranger by the minute.

“How did that happen?” This time, the question was genuinely curious, not prying for information, or confirmation, or whatever.

“Heh, well, remember Carla, from back in Glass Shard Beach? She works for ‘em now. Found me in California about four years ago, arrested me on a case, I put the moves on her,” he waggled his eyebrows and Ford snorted disbelievingly, “she couldn’t resist, and the rest is history.” Not exactly true. He’d completely fallen for her all over again as soon as she had laughed in recognition while handcuffing him. Then he’d bargained for a job and sold out his co-conspirators.

“It was surprising to learn you went back into law enforcement, or some semblance of it,” said Ford.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I just never would have expected it of you, especially after the way you gave up your training when we were both at the FBI,”

Stan frowned. “The way I gave it up?”

Ford tilted his head. “Well you didn’t exactly quit in a regular fashion,”

“I didn’t quit, they ran me off the property!”

“Yes, because you were idiot enough to accept a drunken bet and try to steal secure files! That practically sealed your life as a criminal!”

“Well let me remind you why I was off getting drunk that night. A certain high-paying job offer from a shady government agency ring a bell?”

“Stanley, we have had this conversation before. They offered you the exact same deal!”

“Which you were all too eager to accept! A deal, by the way, which included completely cutting off all ties with family and friends,”

They were glaring at each other now, and were unconsciously tensing for a fight. Things had gotten heated even more rapidly than Stan had expected.

“That was not a permanent arrangement, Stanley, as is clear from your presence here right now,”

“It’s the principle of the thing that matters, Ford! You just upped and ditched me, like you couldn’t wait to get rid of me!”

“You’re talking to me about principles and ditching? The last time I saw you was five years ago, when you led the FBI to my apartment after attempting to steal from them, broke in, yelled at me while grabbing all my cereal, and then climbed out the window! I am assuming that was all deliberate, as when the FBI kicked down my door they thought I was you and arrested me!”

“Well, in your words, that wasn’t a ‘permanent arrangement’ and they sorted it out eventually,”

They lapsed into silence, the air between them practically sizzling. Stan had said enough, had had enough. He’d come here to help Ford if he could, and he’d hoped to maybe patch things up, but it didn’t look as though Ford was all that inclined t-

“I didn’t mean to abandon you, Stan,” Ford admitted, frowning angrily at him. Stan blinked. Carla’s words immediately came to him: he wouldn’t have contacted you unless he needed something. However, if this was a ploy to get his help, it was pretty sincere.

“Although your actions didn’t make it easy to apologise. Furthermore, taking my cereal was incredibly petty.” Ford waited, looking closely at him, seeing how he would respond. Stan was tempted to start up another argument over Ford’s hypocrisy in calling him petty – he wasn’t the one still sore about cereal. Instead, he was reminded forcefully of his brother as a kid, and what one of his first thoughts had been to do when he thought he’d gotten a chance to see Ford again. He’d been half-convinced he never would, what with the super-secret job Ford had taken.

Stan pulled a box of cereal out of his bag and handed it mutely to his brother, who stared.

And stared some more.

And laughed. And pulled him into a hug.

“It’s good to see you again,”

“Yeah, you too bro,”

Well that was easy.

Ford gave him a tour of the house. As he memorised the layout of it, Stan noticed that Ford didn’t seem able to confine his inventions to the main workroom – and they were Ford’s inventions. Stan guessed his brother’s brain was the main reason he had attracted attention from the government.

“Ford, not that I’m complaining, but why am I really here?”

Ford grinned and stepped back into the workroom. He picked a thick, red-bound book off a bench. “For this,”

Stan took the book. It had a gold, six-fingered hand emblazoned on it, similar to the one on the post-card. He opened it to where it was bookmarked.

All the words were in code, but it was a code he and Ford had used since they were kids. It was like a second language to Stan, and he read it easily.

“What’s shimmern?” he asked, looking at a hand-drawn picture of a pendant on a chain.

“A new kind of material.” Ford had an excited look in his eyes. “There’s only one sample in existence, in fact. My assignment is to appropriate, and eventually replicate, it. You’re here because I want your help,”

Stan noticed with some elation that Ford had specifically said “want” not “need”.

“This would be much easier with you, Stan. Like you already said, you have contacts. You’re good with people, not to mention you haven’t lost the skills you had five years ago,”

“I’m in,” said Stan without hesitation. “but don’t you have a partner to help you out? Pretty sure that’s what’s supposed to happen when you work for the government.”

Ford cleared his throat. “That’s not how we do things. Our missions are carried out entirely without assistance from other agents. There’s less chance of a leak that way,”

No matter what his brother’s test scores said, to Stan, Ford was as easy to read as a child’s book.

“Ford . . . you do work for the government, don’t you?”

His brother shifted now, not even attempting to lie under Stan’s scrutiny. “You don’t have to worry, we aren’t working against anyone. We’re primarily research-based,”

“What kind of research needs highly-trained field agents with no connections?”

“I’ve told you all I can,” Ford said firmly, with a hint of apology.

Ever since he and Ford had both been made an offer during the training course for the FBI, Stan had assumed it had been some sort of government branch, the CIA or something. However, the more he thought about, there was absolutely nothing to support this assumption. In short, Ford had him worried. Again.

Even more reason to stick close to him then.

“Okay, I’m still on board. How do we get this thing?”

“Italy, five days from now. We have a party to attend,” Ford said mischievously, and again Stan was reminded of the plans they’d come up with as kids, specifically the more notorious ones.

“I’m gonna need my fake IDs again,”

∆

“Hey Fordsy, how’d it go?” Bill Cipher said, sitting ramrod straight in Ford’s desk chair and swivelling around in it as the elevator doors opened to the basement.

“Good,” Ford replied. “We’re ready for the assignment. Or we will be soon. Stan has to sort a few things out first,”

When he’d first met his employer, Ford had been slightly disturbed by his too-wide smile, eyes that blinked less than a person’s normally would, and far more familiar demeanour than befitted the director of a shadow organisation. Now, he knew it was just one of Bill’s quirks.

“I hope you understand how lenient I’m being, letting your brother in on this. Not that I have anything against him, swell guy I’m sure, but of all the people to choose . . . I mean, really? Didn’t he used to be a bit – what’s the word? Oh yeah. Impulsive. Reckless. Untrustworthy. Take your pick. From what I’ve seen, smart guy, you are far more capable on your own. I don’t want him dragging you down or anything, numero uno,”

“Stan was just angry before. I promise that he will be more focused on this, and he will be a valuable asset,” Ford assured him quickly. It had taken over a year for Bill to come around to the idea of letting Stan meet up with him, and Ford was sure he had only agreed because he knew how ridiculously stubborn Ford could be.

Or because it was affecting your work.

The thought was immediately brushed away. Bill was right to be concerned about Stan. The organisation he had built was founded on levels of secrecy unlike any Ford had previously encountered. Any breach of that could bring it all crashing down. So yes, allowing Ford to bring someone in was a risk, he understood that. And so what if Bill had only agreed because their argument five years ago was eating away at Ford enough to disturb his performance in the field and the lab? That just proved how much Bill trusted, valued,and even cared, about him.

“Alright Sixer, we’ll try this your way. Just keep the objective in sight, you know what I mean?”

If there was one thing Ford was certain about in his line of work, it was that Bill Cipher was a good guy.

“Yes sir,”