April 1982
It was getting late as I drove out of the main town and onto a quiet side road. Remembering what the young woman at the diner had said, I turned onto an even quieter dirt track that wound through the trees.
"I guess this it." I muttered, as the road ended in a rough clearing. Taking a good look at the wooden building in front of me, I tried to ignore my growing anxiety. This place looked empty and unlived in... Was this really where Stanford had been for the last 11 years?
Parking the car, I double checked the piece of paper with the address on.
Against all evidence, this seemed to be the right place. I happened to notice a sign outside the building with the words "Murder Hut" scrawled on it.
"Seems trustworthy." I mused as I grabbed my bag. Getting out of the car, I cast my mind back over the events that had led me here.
It had been an awful month. After receiving the awful news about Stanley Pines dying in a car accident, I'd realised that I'd never see either of the Pines boys again. Stanford and I hadn't spoken since we were 17, then I'd broken Stanley's heart in Virginia... It was like I'd lost both of them all over again in one foul swoop. I'd cried for days.
And then there was the strange phone call from Gina Pines not long after the memorial for Stanley.
"If Stanford ever contacts you... Don't ignore him Carla. He'll need you. I need you to promise me that you'll be there for him. Even if it means traveling across the country. Please Carla!" she'd all but begged me.
I'd agreed without really thinking. Stanford had been my best friend. And after so many years to reflect and think, I was more than ready to put our old arguments to one side. Especially after losing Stanley for the second time in my life.
If Stanford needed me now, I'd be willing to move heaven and earth to help him. Gina had thanked me tearfully and hung up.
Only a week later did I receive a letter from Stanford asking me to come to Gravity Falls, Oregon. It had seemed a very unlikely coincidence, but I'd made a promise. Not to mention that I wanted desperately to see Stanford again, to see such an old familiar face and make up for our lost friendship. And with that, I'd taken a short holiday break and packed up what I might need.
Now I was here.
It wasn't what I'd expected. The cheap signs and promises of murder and mystery were something I would have expected from Stanley, not Stanford. At the thought of Stanley, my heart skipped a beat painfully. I still couldn't believe Stanley was gone. I should never have let him walk away. Now I'd never get to see him again, to tell him how much I'd missed him, that I'd been wrong...
Shaking my head, I swallowed against the lump in my throat. Stepping up onto the porch, I avoided a broken board and rapped sharply on the door with my knuckles.
"No more tours today. Now buzz off!" A gruff voice called out. I smiled, despite the situation. He sounded so much more like his father, a comparison Stanford would no doubt hate
"You mean you don't have time for an old friend Stanford?" I asked loudly.
There was a muffled thump and cursing from inside.
"Hold on a moment!"
I rocked back and forth on my heels slightly. As I glanced around, I thought I saw a face draw back quickly from the window. The quiet anxiety I had been trying to quell since arriving began to flutter harder in my stomach. It suddenly seemed too quiet. Trying to ignore the sense of impending danger, I knocked on the door again.
"Come on Ford! This isn't funny. It's me, Carla. I know I didn't tell you I'd be arriving bu-"
The door opened, cutting me off.
Staring at the person on the other side, all words died in my throat.
Stanford Pines was watching me cautiously. I blinked rapidly and tried to think of something to say. He cleared his throat and gave me a small smile.
"Hi. It's nice to see you again Carla. It's been a while." Stanford said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Any emotion I was expecting to feel was immediately overshadowed by the relief that Stanford had in fact, opened the door.
"Hello Ford... it's been too long." I said as I eyed him up and down, risking a smile. A lump formed in my throat as I saw all the features I'd been so familiar with when we were younger.
"You better come in. It's still a bit cold out there." He stood to one side and gestured widely. As I entered the building, I smiled gratefully. Stanford closed the door behind us and I took a look round. We were standing in a long hallway decorated with some dusty shelves and random items. It didn't look like Ford spent much time in here.
"Uh, follow me..." Stanford turning and headed down the hallway. Following him slowly, I tried to remember how Ford had looked the last time I'd seen him. But since it had been 11 years (and we'd been yelling at each other), I could only draw vague ideas. I was sure that he looked more like Stanley now... but maybe that was just because of the recent tragedy. Or maybe I just wanted to see Stanley in Ford's features... like a sick sort of remembrance.
We walked across a large, open room before going up a short flight of stairs. I whistled under my breath as I found myself in another hallway.
"Geez Ford. How do you not get lost?" I joked as we turned yet another corner and entered a small lounge area.
"Heh, you kinda get used to it." He excused. I gave his back a wry smile. This small talk was a step in the right direction. We were actually talking like our friendship hadn't been torn to shreds.
"So do I get a hug or a high six from my long lost friend?" I asked. Stanford turned to me, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty on his face. I held my arms open in expectation. Stanford dithered for a while before embracing me quickly. I fought back tears as I squeezed him tightly before he drew away, grateful for the gesture from Ford.
"I'm so sorry Ford," I said quietly, "about Stan. I can only imagine how hard it must of been for you to hear about his death."
"Oh, yeah. Well I always knew he'd do something dumb and wind up killing himself." Stanford dismissed.
I stared at him, the happiness from reconnecting almost instantly being replaced by hurt.
"That's not fair Ford. It was a car crash." I was shocked by his flippant tone. Stanford shrugged.
"Look at his life Carla. One dumb mistake after stupid failure. If it hadn't been that car crash, he'd probably have ended up bleeding to death after a fight in some alle-"
I slapped him with all my strength, angry tears starting to fall.
"Don't you dare say that about him!" I snarled, anger throwing up memories of the last fight Stanford and I had. It had been about Stanley back then too. I guessed nothing had changed.
Stanford held his cheek in shock. I glared at him, chest heaving as I caught my breath.
Something was bothering me about Stanford. He seemed off, not the boy I remembered. Sure, the last time I'd seen him, we'd fought just like this. I'd even slapped him then too. But when had he gone from the quiet nerd who adored his brother to this stranger in front of me? I tried to focus on him.
Stanford had aged badly. He'd always been the leanest of the two twins, now he was definitely on the chubby side. And that mullet... what had he been thinking? He really did look like Stanley, more than he ever had before. I wondered again if it was just me seeing Stan in Ford's features, or whether Ford had begun to look like Stan after learning of his death... Almost like a subconscious decision made out of loss. No, Stanford was too rational to do that right? Everything here felt off, wrong and unsettling...
The physique, the bad attitude, even the signs for some sort of hokey tourist attraction... It just wasn't like Ford.
As Stanford lowered his hand, my brain suddenly screamed for my attention.
But it was exactly like Stan!
My heart thumped erratically as Stanford rubbed his jaw.
"Geez Carla, did ya have to hit me so hard? I think I'm seeing stars over here." He grumbled.
"Hands..." I whispered, not quite trusting myself.
"What?" Stanford looked at me nervously.
"Hands." I repeated louder. Stanford tucked his hands behind his back and shook his head.
"I don't know what you me-" He protested nervously.
"Dammit Pines! I'm still capable of kicking your ass. Now show me your goddamn hands!" I demanded, my own hands curling into fists to try and hide how badly I was shaking.
Stanford opened his mouth, but just sighed and held his hands out in defeat. Grabbing them roughly, I frantically counted and recounted.
"Ten. Only ten..." I stared up at him in shock as my brain finally put the pieces together. "Oh my god... Stanley?" I breathed. Before he could reply, I flung myself at him and hugged him tightly, my previous angry outburst forgotten.
"Oh my god. You're not dead! I'm so glad to see you Stanley!" I cried, tears forming in my eyes. Pulling away from him sharply, I stared. "Wait. If you're not dead, why are you pretending to be Ford? Where is Ford? What the hell is going on?" My mind was spinning.
Stanley chuckled nervously, though he didn't take his eyes off mine.
"Well I guess I'm rumbled... though I don't know if I can answer all of your questions." He said. I stepped away and raised an eyebrow at him.
"Try." I said matter-of-factly. Stanley sighed and gestured to a yellow recliner.
"Look, will ya sit down? This could take a while." He said. I sat reluctantly, torn between hearing him out or running. This still seemed very weird, and I was still feeling a little angry about this whole situation.
I settled in the chair as I realised that even if I ran, I wasn't sure I'd be able to find my way back out. So I gestured for Stanley to start talking.
"I know this looks pretty bad..." Stanley started, "but you have to believe me that it's not what it seems."
"So what is it Stanley? 'Cause right now all I'm seeing is someone who seems to have faked his own death, stolen his brother's identity and started a gimmicky business..." I groaned and covered my eyes. "This isn't tax fraud, is it?"
Stanley laughed.
"No It's not tax fraud... although..." He paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. I looked up and pinched the bridge of my nose with a sigh.
"Focus Stanley. Why did you fake your death?" I asked, trying to keep myself from yelling at him.
"I'll be honest, I can't answer that yet." Stanley admitted as he began to pace back and forth. I followed his movements with my eyes.
"Ok, I'll start smaller. This is Ford's house right?" I asked patiently.
"Yes."
"Right. So where is Ford?"
Stanley stopped his pacing and stared at the wall. I waited, a little perturbed by his silence about Ford.
"He's not here... he's missing." He said sadly.
"Missing? Missing how?" I asked, my mind reeling at the news Ford wasn't where everyone thought he was.
"Uhh... That's where it gets complicated." Stanley said, screwing his face up in a grimace.
"Jesus Stan! You need to give me a little information here!" I sighed in frustration, slouching in the chair. "If you're here, then you must know where Ford went or at least have a clue... Anything would be helpful." I paused and looked at him again. "And what does this have to do with you impersonating him."
"Ah, well... someone had to pay his mortgage. And my life really wasn't going well. I'd lost everything and then I get here and I lost Ford..." Stanley's voice wavered slightly. "I just figured I could make a new start while I worked out how to get Ford back. And it turned out that the locals were really curious about this place and were practically throwing money at me to see inside! So I started the whole tour thing." Stanley looked at me with a small smile. "And then you show up and I never thought I'd see you again."
I frowned, trying to understand what Stanley had just told me. I couldn't keep my thoughts or emotions settled for a second since I'd stepped into this house.
"When did you get here?" I asked, trying to organise my thoughts.
"Six or seven weeks ago. Why?" Stanley replied.
"And no one knows Ford is missing right?" I said, ignoring his question. Stanley nodded.
"Why haven't you told anyone?" I asked. Stanley sighed.
"That leads us back to complicated." Stanley seemed to be mulling something over. He made up his mind before I could even open my mouth again.
"Come on. I think I need to show you something." Stanley walked over to a door on the other side of the room. I got to my feet, head still spinning from the conversation. The door led into a large room that must have been a workroom. There were a couple of tables covered with papers and tools.
"I was thinking about turning this into a gift shop." Stanley chatted as he ran his hand along a section of wall. Glad for the distraction, I latched onto his inane chatter.
"A gift shop? Why? What would you be selling?" I asked as I watched Stanley's fingers catch a hidden groove in the wall. As he pulled his hand away, a concealed doorway opened in the wall. I felt like my brain had just short circuited, mouth falling open.
"I dunno yet. But if I want to make this place a legitimate tourist attraction..." he trailed off as he walked into the newly opened door. I looked around the edge of the door and saw Stanley begin to descend a darkened set of stairs.
"Oh no... no, no, no..." I whispered, my feet feeling rooted to the spot. This was all too much. Ford was missing... Stanley wasn't dead but pretending to be Ford... there was a secret passage way... what the hell is this place... gift shop... I grew dizzy as my thoughts spiraled.
"Hey, hey. Carla?" Stanley came back up the stairs and grabbed my arm just as I felt my knees go weak.
"Come on now, just take a couple of deep breaths. Guess I shoulda warned you." He said lightly as he rubbed a thumb over my hand in a familiar gesture.
"You think?" I muttered as I tried to clear my head. After a few moments, the dizziness passed and I pulled away from Stanley. He tucked his hands in his pockets and began to walk down the stairs again.
"Come on then."
"No, Stanley wait. This is insane." I said. Stanley looked back at me. "We're standing in a secret passage, in a house which is known as the Murder Hut, and you want me to follow you down to the basement to explain why your brother mysteriously disappeared. While you are impersonating said missing brother. Tell me you understand how bad that looks?" I pleaded, my brain desperately trying to make sense of everything.
Stanley held a hand out for me again.
"I swear, you're in no danger with me Carla." He said calmly. I laughed nervously, my laugh sounding breathy and shrill in the small space.
"You promise you're not going to murder me for discovering your secret then? 'Cause that would kinda suck." I joked anxiously as I followed him down the stairs. Stanley laughed and punched a code into a strange panel at the bottom of the stairs.
"Remember the promise I made to you all those years ago? That I'd never let you get hurt? I don't break my promises." Stanley reassured me as a set of elevator doors opened next to him. Stepping in, Stanley gave me a rakish grin. "You know, unless there's money involved... Or maybe revenge."
"That is not helping Stanley," I muttered as I joined him, "and neither is this elevator."
As the doors closed, I was really in two minds about the man next to me.
On one hand, I wanted to throttle him for faking his own death and being so secretive about how Ford went missing. But on the other hand, being only inches away from me after 10 years and his supposed death, all I wanted to do was grab him, kiss him, tell him I was wrong about what had happened all those years ago...
"Look, things are going to seem really crazy down here. But you need to trust me. I swear I'm telling you the truth." Stanley interrupted my thoughts as the elevator slowed to a stop. Stepping out, Stanley offered my his hand. "Do you still trust me?" he asked. I hesitated.
He's still your Stanley, he never lied to you, my brain piped up. But he faked his death, and he's been pretending to be Ford... Did he send the letter? My brain swam with conflicted thoughts about Stanley.
Screwing my face up, I took a deep breath and took Stanley's hand with a small flutter of butterflies.
"I still trust you." I said softly, knowing immediately that I truly did. Stanley gave me a grateful smile and we walked along a machinery-filled galley way. Stopping in a control room of some sort, I tried once again to wrap my head around everything. Suddenly I caught sight of something through a window into the next room that made my stomach drop.
It was a giant machine. It was shaped like an upside down triangle and had a circular opening in the middle. It seemed to be lurking there, watching us and I shivered, gripping Stan's hand tighter.
"Stan," I tried to keep my voice calm, "what the hell is all of this? And I want the truth."
"It's a portal of some sort." Stanley replied slowly. "Ford disappeared through it. That's why I couldn't tell anyone. Who'd believe me?"
I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths. Stan wasn't wrong about that. I couldn't believe it and I was standing in front of this portal thing.
"Ok. Start at the beginning. What happened?" I asked, opening my eyes slowly.
"Well, when I first got here, Ford was in a pretty crazy state. Real paranoid. Kept talking about being watched." Stanley sighed, "He told me I was his last resort. He brought me down here and gave me this book of his." Stanley reached out and picked up a leather bound book off the nearest counter. "He told me to take it as far away from here as possible. To the other end of the earth if necessary... I didn't handle it well." Stanley paused, swallowing back tears.
Despite the crazy situation going on, I squeezed his hand tightly. Stanley gave me a grateful look before continuing.
"I was so confused and upset Carla. I'd lost everything the night Dad kicked me out, not to mention when we..." Stan took a shaky breath and continued. "And then Ford gets in touch with me after all those years. It felt like things might get better, that I had a chance to make things right." Stanley sighed sadly. "Instead, Ford tells me to get as far away from him as I possibly could. It was like losing him all over again. So I got angry."
"Oh, Stan..." I groaned softly, knowing what would've happened next.
"Heh, yeah. We kinda fought. Ford even managed to get the drop on me... guess I was outta shape... still am I suppose..." Stanley paused, glancing down at himself.
"Anyway, while we were fighting, I tried to burn the damn book and Ford went nuts. We ended up in front of that thing," Stanley pointed through the window, "and in all the confusion, I guess it got turned on. Before I knew what was happening, Ford was pulled through it. He managed to throw me the book but – but..." Stanley's voice broke.
"God, he kept crying for me to help him but I didn't know, I couldn't..." Stanley started to cry and I didn't hesitate. I wrapped my arms around him and we sunk to the floor together. As we sat there, Stanley's words sunk in and I felt tears prick my eyes as well. How had Stanley been able to cope with this?
"I'm so sorry Stan." I managed to get out.
"I've been trying to get the stupid thing working, to get him back but I can't! It won't turn back on! He's never coming back and it's all my fault!" Stan sobbed helplessly against me. I stroked his back gently, trying to gather my thoughts. I couldn't think of anything useful to say, so I just tried to blindly comfort him.
"No. It's not your fault." I tried to reassure him. "You couldn't have known what would happen."
Stanley pulled back and stared at me, tears still falling.
"I didn't have to get angry at him... I'm such a screw up." He said sadly. I shook my head as I wiped his tears away gently, resting my hand against his cheek.
"You're not a screw up Stan." I whispered. "This goes beyond things anyone could know. Well, anyone except for Ford." I added. Stanley snorted and covered my hand with his. Leaning my forehead against his, I sighed. I still didn't understand any of this, but I certainly wasn't mad at Stan or Ford anymore.
"I guess this explains almost everything. I still don't fully understand what that machine even is... but that can wait." I climbed to my feet and offered my hand to Stanley. "I need to get outta here. And so do you."
Stanley stood without a word, still wiping away stray tears, and placed the book back on the counter carefully. As we silently left the room, I glanced back over my shoulder at the dark portal machine.
This whole thing seemed crazy... yet I believed everything Stan said. I'd never known him to lie about anything important.
And as for Ford, tears threatened to spill just thinking about him. God knows where he was at this moment, or if he was even alive. I didn't even know why he'd built that thing... What had he been up too?
X
Stanley placed the cup of coffee in front of me.
"Sorry it's not anything stronger." He apologised as he sat opposite me. I waved a hand dismissively.
"Coffee's fine." I said as I drummed my fingers on the table. The sound of my tapping filled the small kitchen we were sitting in. Stanley took a drink of his coffee.
"So what have you been doing with yourself?" he asked, attempting normality like we hadn't just been talking about some Stargate portal thing.
"Well I moved back to Glass Shard beach a few years ago." I smiled, glad of the idle chatter to distract us. "I took up a job as an account not far from the boardwalk." I stopped my tapping and wrapped my hands around the cup.
"You went back?" Stanley asked. "Why?"
"Oh right, you probably wouldn't have heard..." I bit my lip and stared at the table top. "My dad passed away suddenly. A brain aneurysm."
"Ah geez Carla. I'm so sorry. I really liked your dad." Stanley said softly. I gave him a sad smile.
"Thanks Stan. He always liked you too." I paused and took a drink of my coffee. Stan had remembered just the way I liked it, black and bitter.
"Anyway, I needed to sort out the sale of the gym and house... with one thing and another, I just wound up staying." I sighed. "It's not as much fun as I remember..."
Stanley sniffed quietly and we fell back into silence, drinking our coffee.
"So where were you before this?" I asked, trying to keep us talking.
"Uh, me? Oh you know, just bounced around..." Stanley seemed embarrassed.
"Stanley... How many states are you banned in now?" I asked with a smile. Stanley rolled his eyes.
"32. But some of them weren't my fault." He protested as I laughed.
"I guess it was just luck you weren't banned in Oregon huh?" I teased. Stanley pulled a face.
"I'm still not banned in Virginia either you know." He said with a little bit of pride. "They never figured out it was me who rolled that van into the ravine..." Stan trailed off as he realised what he'd said. I looked down at my cup again, remembering the events that led to that incident.
"I'm sorry about all that Carla." Stanley said softly. "I shouldn't of acted the way I did. I was a jerk."
"No, you were right." I said quickly. "You were right. It turned out Thistle Downes was hypnotising girls. I wasn't the only one." I admitted slowly. "I should've listened to you."
Stanley stared at me.
"Wait, really?" he asked. I nodded.
"But by the time I found out, you were gone and I had no idea how to find you again." I said sadly. Stanley finished his coffee.
"Yeah, well... I figured there was no point staying where I wasn't wanted."
I nodded, feeling the sting of his words.
"I deserve that. I wasn't too nice about things in the end." I admitted. I followed a swirl in the wooden table with my finger, my courage failing me as I thought about all the things I had wanted to tell Stan.
"Did you ever meet anyone else?" I asked quietly, not looking at him. Stanley cleared his throat nervously.
"Well I got married..."
I jerked my head up in shock.
"Only lasted 48 hours though." Stan laughed quietly. "Shoulda seen it coming really. No one else wanted to me, why would she have?"
My old instinct to comfort and bolster Stan took over.
"Stan, you're a good man. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life." I said softly.
Stanley refused to look at me. Rubbing the back of his neck, he cleared his throat.
"What about you? Was there anyone after that idiot Thistle?" he asked, changing the subject. I sat back, with a sigh.
"A couple... nothing really stuck... Though when I moved home, Benjamin Crampelter tried to win me over." I snorted. "Took great pleasure in turning him down."
Stanley chuckled.
"Wish I could've seen that." He murmured. I smiled.
"Nah, he got all weird about it. Sent me presents for about six months before he got the message... creep." I shifted in my seat and stretched. "Nope. There's only ever been one man for me Stan. And apparently he died last month." I jibed lightly. Stanley looked up at me.
"What?" he asked disbelievingly.
"You know... the whole fake death thing... it was a joke..." I stammered, taken back by the look on his face.
"No, you think I'm the only one for you?" Stanley asked, leaning forward. I bit my lip.
"Well yeah. I've only really been happy when we were together. Right up until the whole hypnotism thing." I shook my head, a lump forming in my throat. "Then the car crash... It almost killed me when I realised that I'd lost you for good..." I trailed off, tears starting to fall again. There was a scrape of chair legs on the floor and suddenly Stan had his arms around me.
"I thought I'd never see you again." I said tearfully. "I lost you all over again and..." I cried openly, burying my head into his chest. "I should never have left... I missed you so much Stanley!"
"Shhh. It's alright Carla. I'm here, I'm still here. Promise." Stanley stroked my back reassuringly. "I'm a cockroach, remember? I'm invincible." He added. I snorted and wiped my eyes.
"So we're good now then Pines?" I asked with a smile, daring to hope a little. Stanley grinned and kissed my forehead, a gesture that immediately took me back to Virginia.
"We're good Tiny." He replied. A frown briefly crossed his face. "Though I don't understand how we're even having this conversation... why did you come here? Not that I'm complaining." He hastily waved his hands.
I downed what was left of my cold coffee.
"What do you mean? You sent me a letter." I said. "Oh rather, you pretending to be Ford sent me a letter."
Stanley shook his head.
"How could I have sent you a letter? I didn't even know you'd moved back home until now." He said slowly. I frowned.
"Oh yeah... but then who..." I trailed off, remembering how weird getting that letter had been. "I got a letter a week ago asking me to come to Gravity Falls. It had Ford's name and signature on it."
Stanley looked worried.
"How the hell did you get a letter from Ford when he's been missing for a month and a half?" he asked. I shook my head.
"I don't, I don't know... I thought it was odd at the time. I hadn't heard from him in years... and to get that letter a few days after that phone call from your mom... I thought it was too much of a coincidence." I sighed as I had a sudden realisation about what had happened.
"What phone call?" Stanley asked, confusion clouding his face.
"Ever since I moved home, I've stayed in touch with your mom." I explained. "So when she rang about a week ago, I wasn't surprised... but she asked me to promise her that I'd help Ford if he ever got in touch with me."
"That's a bit suspicious." Stanley mused.
"I think she might have wrote that letter you know? And then made it seem like Ford sent it?" I suggested.
"But how would she know Ford was in trouble?" Stanley countered.
"Maybe she just wanted me and Ford to talk again." I suggested. "Especially after hearing the news of the car crash."
"I suppose it's possible. I've seen her do worse to get her way." Stanley said, raising his eyebrows. "And I guess it kinda worked. Ya are sitting here talking to a Stanford Pines." He joked.
"I was wondering about that... Are you legally Stanford Pines now? Would that even be possible? Or do you just call yourself Stanford and no one round here knows the difference?" I asked. Stanley shrugged with an easy grin.
"I change identities like other people change clothes. Once I had a fake license, no one knew the difference." He said matter-of-factly. I shook my head in disbelief.
"You're a hell of a piece of work you know that?" I said with a grin back, the old banter between us falling back into place like it had never been gone.
"Look at my parents... How could I not be a master of the con art?" Stanley grinned back. Shaking my head, I chuckled.
"I think I'll just stick to calling you Stan. It just feels wrong to call you Stanford."
Stanley sat back with a grin.
"Stan works fine. Just try not to call me Stanley. The last thing I need is to get ratted out by my ex-girlfriend."
I laughed and leaned across the table.
"Does that mean I need to leave? So I can't blow your cover?" I asked. Stan stared, mouth open.
"You were going to stay?" he asked.
"Of course. I thought an old friend was in trouble. I have at least a week before I need to go back home. Can I stay?" I asked, hardly daring to breathe.
"Of course!" Stan exulted. "Now that someone else knows about Ford and the portal, I don't have to pretend all the time!"
"So I can really stay? You don't mind?" I asked again, determined to hear him say it.
"Yes, you can stay. You can even have the bedroom, I'll sleep down here." Stan beamed at me. I smiled back, my mind flooded with happiness.
"Guess I might as well grab my stuff then. How do I get back outside from here? Or do I need a map?" I asked as I stood. Stan chuckled and stood with me.
"Come on, I'll show you the back way out of here." He said. We walked out to the stairs and Stan unlocked the back door. Emerging out on a back porch, I laughed as I saw the car parked nearby.
"You still have her?" I asked.
Stan chuckled.
"Yeah, she's the only thing I kept from Jersey. The ol' gal has seen a few dark days." He said as we walked today the car. Running a hand along the car's roof, I grinned.
"Remember our first date with her?" I asked coyly. Stan flushed and coughed awkwardly.
"I don't think I could forget... It was a hell of a night Carla." He murmured. I smiled at him, our reunion making me giddy and reckless.
"It was... though it was a good thing I was so flexible." I jibed shamelessly. Stan was silent, face glowing red. I laughed and nudged him.
"Geez Pines, relax! It's just a memory."
We continued to walk around the house to where I had parked my car. Opening the back door, I reached in and grabbed my two bags.
"You packed light huh?" Stan commented. I nodded, straightening up.
"I was only planning for a week's stay." I huffed, slinging one bag over my shoulder. Stan quickly reached for the other one.
"Thanks," I smiled. "Always the gentleman."
Stan turned away, cheeks still flushed, and we headed back to the back porch.
"So you can just use this door while you're here. The front is normally used by people who visit the murder hut." Stan explained.
"Gotcha." I nodded. We stopped inside the house at the foot of the stairs. Stanley placed my bag down.
"So I can show you the bedroom now... Let you get some rest." Stan offered.
"Are you sure you want to give up your room? I really don't mind sleeping on that recliner." I asked, feeling uncertain about that arrangement.
"Carla, I had to sleep in my car for years. I think I can handle the recliner for a week." Stan joked, turning toward the stairs. Chewing my lip, I followed him reluctantly.
Hearing that Stan had slept in the Diablo for years, he really shouldn't be forced to sleep in that recliner now... he deserved a bed. But he was insisting on me taking the bed and I knew better than anyone else that when Stan wanted you to have something, he really didn't give in until you agreed with him. As we traipsed up to the first floor landing, Stanley pushed open a door.
"I know it's not the Ritz... but it's clean... sorta." He excused, kicking a few clothes behind the door. I tried to hide my smile.
The room was spartan in terms of personality. But there was still traces of Ford in here. A desk was covered in clutter; books, paper, drawings and even an ink bottle.
Stan had simply moved in on top of Ford's stuff. His clothes were strewn over the floor and he even had his old boxing gloves thrown over the bed posts. I smiled when I saw the state of the bed. Ford had always been the one to make his bed with sharp, neat corners... Stan rarely made his bed, preferring to just climb under the blankets however they were arranged.
"It's fine Stan." I placed my bag on the floor as Stan waited for my reaction. Stan gently placed my bag on the floor and fidgeted with his hands. The silence deepened as we stood just inside the doorway, unspoken words and secrets filling the air. Stan broke the silence first.
"So I should get outta your hair and let you rest." Stan muttered as he moved to leave the room. I followed him back out onto the landing.
"Thanks for letting me stay Stan." I said quietly. Stan smiled to himself.
"Couldn't just kick you out... don't have it in me ta do that." He said. I reached out and touched his arm, getting him to look at me again. Stepping closer, I leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek. Stan stiffened in shock before gently placing an arm around me. Hugging him, I smiled into his shoulder.
"Heh, I'm glad you're here." Stan muttered before kissing the top of my head. We broke apart and he headed back down the stairs with one final glance back at me.
"Me too Stan." I whispered to myself before heading back into the bedroom.