Because I ship BillFord like crazy and I have no shame. Deal with it.

(Cover art from an unknown Tumblr source. Let me know if you find it so I can give credit.)


Protective or Possessive

Despite his natural intelligence concerning most things, Ford couldn't put his finger on this one. He knew Bill was prone to occasional mood swings, being unable to take problems lightly, but becoming angry and distant for no reason was another matter entirely.

He noticed it while writing in his journal one night, everything quiet in his study as he pored over his notes. Being accustomed to Bill coming and going whenever he pleased, he wasn't deterred when a yellow shape slowly materialized on the edge of his desk. The demon usually hovered above his shoulder, trying to get a look at his research and offering advice that wasn't needed (despite Bill insisting it was), but this time his Muse remained silent, his eye noticeably avoiding Ford's gaze, and his legs dangling like a toddler's. After a while, it felt too strange for them not to be conversing, so Ford broke the silence with a hearty cough.

"So I... I must have fallen asleep then?" He laughed quietly. "I don't remember that. I'd planned on staying awake this evening."

It took a considerable amount of time for Bill to reply, his eye strongly fixed on the wall opposite. "Huh, well worked out, genius. You should get a prize."

Ford raised his eyebrows. He was used to Bill responding with zealousness and jokes, but today his voice sounded so... lifeless. And that was totally unlike him. For the moment, he attempted to brush it off. "Well, you do have a point there," he said, forcing humour. "I suppose I've been on my own for so long I couldn't help myself this time."

"On your own?"

Ford felt an anxious rush as he met Bill's questioning eye. He was unfamiliar with his tone of voice, and his almost harsh glare as he watched him. Had he said something wrong?

"Aside from the mindscape, yes. I have been extremely secluded. Nothing far from the norm, I admit, but I've even distanced myself from Fiddleford recently. I hope he's not offended, but the work on the portal's becoming more and more important and-"

He was suddenly left utterly confused as Bill interrupted him with a laugh. He wasn't sure if it was out of amusement or sarcasm, but either way, it sent nervous chills up his spine. "Ford, seriously," Bill chuckled, his expression a little brighter. "You don't have to take me for an idiot and start talking for so long you'll think you'll divert my attention. You say you've been on your own, but I'm pretty sure you're lying. Unless, you know, the all-seeing eye is in the wrong for the first time in, um, forever?"

The sarcasm was undoubtedly there, and it made Ford uneasy. Racking his brains, he tried to think what Bill could be getting at – what he could have possibly lied about. But nothing came to him. He only felt bewilderment at Bill's intense gaze as his black fingers tapped almost impatiently on the desk.

"If you think I'm hiding something from you, I have to tell you you're mistaken, Bill. Just this once," he added quickly. He kept his voice polite and honest, for that's all he thought he was being. But even more anxiety crept into his stomach as he noticed Bill's characteristic yellow fade slightly into a dark, almost red colour.

"No. I don't make mistakes, Sixer. Thought you'd picked up on that from day one."

"But..."

"You know what? It's fine. You don't want to tell me because it's your business, and I get that. But the bottom line is that we're in a partnership. A guy as smart as you should know the definition of that, but you've chosen to ignore it. Just this once."

Ford suddenly decided he would very much like to wake up. He felt like this was building up to something, and he didn't want to find out what it would be.

"I've told you nothing but the truth."

"You've got a funny idea of the truth. Keeping things from me doesn't count as not lying. Maybe you should think on it for a while, IQ. That's what you do best, right? Thinking?"

He wanted to ask more questions – to get to the bottom of an anger he couldn't understand. But as he was about to, he felt his body becoming lighter; more conscious. And that was when everything melted way and his eyes opened. He sat up at his desk. The light was almost fully faded outside, the sky mixed with glowing oranges and midnight purples. The only light in the room came from the dying flame of the lantern he'd lit hours ago.

Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand. The confusion and anxiety in his lungs hadn't quite left him, even after waking up. Maybe his Muse had taken his all-seeing powers too far this time. He'd obviously seen something inaccurate, and become bitter because of it. But Ford knew he was guiltless. He would never do anything to betray Bill, knowing the feeling was mutual on both sides. This would blow over in no time. He was sure of it.


Some time earlier...

"So, what brought you to Gravity Falls, Mr. Pines?"

"Please, just call me Stanford," Ford said with a polite smile. "And honestly, that's a long story. I don't know if I want to bore you with it.

"I can assure you I won't be bored by it."

"Seriously? Where does she get her lines from? The Society of The Fake and Shallow?"

"Regardless, it's too much to give you in one go. I'm afraid we'd be here for hours."

"I'm okay with that."

"Urgh, lady, you're going to make me throw up."

"Well, if you must know, I'm here doing research. It's a long process, and a lot of it I can't reveal to you just yet. But it''s the pinnacle of my life's work so far."

"Sounds amazing! I'd love to hear more about it some time."

"Ford, this is why you never go outside and talk to flesh-sacks."

"Hm. Well, I don't see why you shouldn't."

"Oh, come ON!" Bill threw up his arms in outrage and disbelief. From his place in the mindscape, he couldn't be heard by the mortals he observed, but part of him wished he could. "You're better than this, Sixer! Who taught you to stand there and accept flirting? Not me," he added, with something akin to a shudder.

Turning away from the image in the bubble, his put his hands behind his back in thought. He was confused over why such anger was being conjured within him, and such... anxiety. He felt as though someone was about to rip the air out of his lungs without warning, and it made him extremely on edge. He just hovered there for a moment: thinking; trying to convince himself he was calm when he definitely wasn't.

"Got better company, huh, Stanford Pines?" he muttered, his eye growing intense with fury. "You have more fun with mortals who are all over you for one moment and ditch you the next? Good choice, Ford. Reeeeeal good choice."

Feeling the anger almost take over entirely, Bill stopped and took a deep breath. He decided to retire and keep his eye off Ford temporarily. Just until they spoke face-to-face again - then he would give the good-for-nothing author a piece of advice.

When you bind yourself to me, no one gets in the way. No-one.


Jealous Bill is best Bill.

Woooo, I FINALLY finished this damn thing! I just had to write a BillFord story at some point. It turned from a guilty pleasure into one of my ultimate OTPs, because I find their dynamic and history so interesting to work with. I think we can all agree this pairing may have been canon at some point. ;)

Please leave reviews, I love reading them. I don't mind constructive criticism either so feel free to offer advice on my writing if it's needed. :)

(And yes, the title is a lyric taken from the song 'Jealous' by Nick Jonas. It just fits.)