I'm sure there are plenty of versions of twinless Stans in the GF fandom, but I saw a few posts by Llors on tumblr and got inspired. The two posts in question can be found at:

notllorstel dot tumblr dot com slash post slash 136677100886 slash justin-f-pines-cause-lyingsaint

notllorstel dot tumblr dot com slash post slash 136635744906 slash stan-stany-stan-stan-no-duo-just-solo-two

Dimension 10
Glass Shard Beach, NJ
May 24, 1968

Stan shifts his weight from foot to foot as he waits in line. He doesn't go out to watch movies often, doesn't really like the theater with its crowds, sticky floors, and over-priced popcorn, but Carla had wanted to celebrate getting back to her previous straight-A's status. More specifically, Carla had asked him to go with her and he hadn't been able to refuse.

For a second, he'd thought she was asking him on a date, but no. This is a 'thank you' for tutoring her, like he hasn't been taking her money for the pleasure, as it is - was. The problem is getting her back up to straight-A's marks the end of her need for further tutoring and he's, well, he's grown fond of her in the short time he's known her. Maybe more than just fond, judging by the instant case of butterflies when he'd thought this was a date followed by a stupid amount of disappointment when he'd found out otherwise. He's not sure if it was just the novelty of getting asked out that caused such a reaction or not - he'd brushed off the disappointment easily enough, after all - but the dissatisfaction brought on by his realization that he's lost his reason to continue meeting with Carla keeps nagging at him.

Stan's left hand fists inside his pocket and he uses the right to push his glasses back up from where they've slipped too far down his nose.

Maybe he wants to date Carla and maybe he doesn't. He isn't sure. The thought is too new. He hasn't had time to analyze it properly yet. He is sure that he doesn't want to lose all contact with the girl, but that's what's going to happen unless he can come up with some reason to keep in touch.

Is there a way to ask a girl out on a not-a-date without closing off any chances of maybe dating later? If there is, Stan needs to figure out what it is in the next (five-to-ten minutes before the movie starts, approximately one-and-half hours run time, about fifteen minutes to walk Carla home if he sets a slow pace) two hours, because that's probably all the time he has to do so.

"My purse!"

Stan snaps out of his headspace and back into reality to see some skinny punk with his mitts on Carla's handbag. His left hand is out of his pocket and smashing into the creep's face almost before he knows what he's doing. Carla squeaks in surprise as the would-be thug collapses in front of her. Stan flushes under her stare (Not that she's the only one staring, but she's the only one that matters.) and stumbles over his own tongue as he says, "Uh... He was bothering you? Are, are you okay?"

Carla can be impulsive. He knows her well enough to know that much, but he still isn't prepared when the girl pounces on him, balancing up on tiptoe to help close the gap in height and wrapping her arms around his neck in an unexpected hug. "Whoa!" He wraps an arm around her waist without thought as he tries to refind his balance and keep them both from ending up sprawled out across the sidewalk.

His brain short-circuits when she kisses him.

Date. A date would be good, he decides. Very good. Once he remembers how to form words, he might even figure out how to ask for one. Hopefully with a goodnight kiss at the end.

There's a couple of wolf whistles from the other movie goers and Carla instantly releases him, face bright pink. "S-sorry! I, uh, th-that was a bit much, wasn't it?" she stutters, nervously playing with the strap of her purse, "I just - That was really something, Stan. Thank you."

Stan opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. Nothing comes out.

Screw it. He has just under two hours to relearn how to speak and ask a girl out on a date, but for now... For now, Stan grabs her hand and laces his left hand's six fingers around Carla's five. She blinks at him, gives her own fingers an experimental wiggle that causes Stan to loosen his grip, but ultimately returns his grasp and shifts to stand just a little closer than she had been.

Okay, then. This is... This is good. He could get used to this.

May 25, 1968

It's early. Crazy, ridiculous, why-aren't-I-still-sleeping early in Stan's book, but Sherman has always been a morning person and Stan's hoping that hasn't changed since his older brother moved out. Personally, he hadn't been able to sleep a wink last night. A hellish mix of anxiety and impatience had seen to that.

A light flickers on in what Stan knows is the small house's kitchen. "Finally," the teenager grumbles, hopping off the hood of Sherman's car. (He should probably start saving up for a car of his own if he's gonna take a real stab at the dating-thing, shouldn't he? That's a thought for later, though.) Stan does his best to ignore the dew-formed damp patches in his jeans as he knocks on the back door.

Seconds later, Shermie Pines' surprised face replaces the woodgrain his younger brother had been staring at. "Stan?" he asks, eyebrows making a slow climb up his forehead, "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Sherm," Stan returns, "Can I come in?"

"Of course," Sherman says even as he waves his brother in and closes the door behind him, "but what's going on? You're usually still in bed at this time of day."

The teen shrugs, dropping into one of the kitchen-cum-dining room table's chairs. "I need advice. Dad wouldn't be any help and Ma would be too much help, ya know?"

The older Pines squints at the other. "There's a very specific group of topics that fall in that category and nearly all of them deal with emotions and people," he states as he settles into his own chair.

Stan squirms. "Yeah, that kind of advice."

"Stan..." the man grins, "Are you here for relationship advice?"

He scowls up at his brother for a second but he's certain the flush he can feel covering his face ruins the desired effect. "Maybe?" he huffs. Honestly, the man doesn't need to look like he's halfway prepared to either choke him to death with affection or laugh in his face. (Or both. That's a real possibility with Shermie.) "I don't know! It's more like hopefully-there-might-be-a-relationship-later advice. I asked a girl out, but I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do after that."

Sherman's smile somehow stretches wider. "You take her on that date you promised her, Knucklehead."

"I know that much!" Stan glares at the beaming man, "C'mon, Sherm, stop teasing! I'm serious here! I need help!"

"Right, right," Shermie clears his throat and wipes the grin from his face. His eyes are still laughing, though, the overgrown toddler. "So," he says, "let's start with the basics. What's her name?"

"It's Carla."

"Is this the same Carla you're tutoring?" Sherman asks, smile returning, "I knew you liked her!"

"Was tutoring. She's caught up, now," Stan corrects before frowning and asking, "What do you mean you knew I liked her?"

"You talk about her. Specifically her," Sherman explains, "Everyone else is 'this idiot' or 'that ignoramus' or 'the moron is so dumb I'm tempted to tell him to cheat off the nearest house plant if it means I can stop tutoring him' but you actually call Carla by name, and I'm pretty sure you have from the start."

"Everyone else I tutor is just looking to avoid flunking out. Carla is actually interested in doing well. Of course I talk about her differently!"

"Uh-huh."

Stan fidgets under his brother's patient stare. "...Is it that obvious?"

"Oh, yes," the elder replies gleefully. Stan buries his face in his hands with a groan and Sherman laughs. "But probably only to someone who knows you well," he relents, "No insults about her intelligence. No grumbling about rude questions. Actually, I can't recall you saying a bad word about her; which is practically a glowing review on its own, coming from you. Also, your voice generally pitches a little higher when you start talking about her, like just thinking about her puts you in a better mood. That was a pretty good indicator, too."

Stan lifts his head enough to peek at Sherman over his fingers. "I didn't know until yesterday," he confesses quietly.

Shermie chuckles softly, rising to collect a pair of mugs from the cabinet and the coffee pot that just finished brewing. "So, now you know, and you've apparently already asked her out," the man sets a steaming cup in front of his younger brother before reclaiming his seat, "What do you need my advice for?"

"I don't know. Everything?" Stan stares into his coffee mug. "You and Leslie seem happy. How do I get from a first date to there?"

The older Pines chokes on his drink. Shermie slams his cup down on the table. "You mean married?" he sputters, taking a moment to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, "Stan, I think you're a bit young to be worried about that."

Stan shrugs. "So?" He blows the steam away from the surface of his coffee and takes a cautious sip. He doesn't know how Sherman drinks the stuff so quickly without scalding all the taste buds off his tongue. "I gotta learn sometime, don't I? And I'm not sayin' I'm gonna marry her, but, y'know, just in case..."

"This would be your first girlfriend, Baby Brother," Sherman reminds him, "Most guys aren't lucky enough to find their wife in the first girl they start dating."

"Yeah, but it's not impossible, either," he refutes easily. Stan looks at his brother with a wry expression. He waves his left hand in front of his own face and says, "I'm not exactly a stranger to long odds." Between the fully realized polydactyly in his left hand and the heterochromia of his eyes, he's quite the genetic anomaly.

Sherman rolls his eyes. "True enough," he agrees, just as he always does when Stan reminds him that 'improbable' is not outside the realm of all possibilities. "Alright, when is this date, anyway?"

"This afternoon."

"And where are you going?"

"The pier. They've got a carnival set up right now."

"Have you kissed her yet?"

Stan sputters. "I, uh, no, I haven't - Well, she kinda - I mean, I haven't kissed her but she, she kissed me. T-twice. A-and one a' those was just on the cheek, s-so 'm not sure i-if that even counts." He has to be red as a tomato right now.

Shermie cracks up. "Oh, Ma is going to have a field day when I tell her!"

"You can't tell Ma!" Stan objects, eyes wide behind his glasses, "She'll fuss!"

Sherman only laughs harder.

Read chapters sooner on Archive of Our Own: archiveofourown dot org slash works slash 13322247

Read the entire Travels and Journals series on Archive of Our Own: archiveofourown dot org slash series slash 543127