Heh... I have a lot planned for the next few chapters and I'm honestly really excited to write them. Lots will be heating up in this chapter since it's so long.

Anyway, here is chapter 29 of "Welcome Home"!

It was about 8:00 at night. Stan and Ford were in the living room, standing up and chatting. Stan had a Pitt cola in hand, and Ford was fidgeting with a pen. He had recently put on his lab coat after foolishly leaving it on the couch that morning. It was mostly small talk, as they didn't have anything super-important to talk about.

"So," Stan began. "What happened while I was gone?" He asked, smirking in a way that made Ford suspicious.

"What?" Ford asked, confused.

"You know, what'd you and Bill do while I was gone earlier?" Stan asked.

Ford bit his lip. Does he know? Is it obvious? How am I supposed to respond to this? Ford didn't really know what to say. He was concerned that his brother knew about the kiss. What if that's not what he means? He asked himself. Maybe Stan was just asking in general? He's always been better at bluffing than I have...

Ford fidgeted with the pen a bit more before looking at Stan. "Could you give a bit more of an explanation?" He hoped.

Stan rolled his eyes and groaned obnoxiously. "What's up with you, Sixer? It's a simple question. Did ya' keep decorating cookies while I was gone, or play a board game or somethin'? Yeesh, you're acting as if there's somethin' to be worried about. It's not like you and him kissed or anything." He said sarcastically with an eye roll.

Ford chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. "Heh...yeah..." He muttered, looking down at his feet.

"Anyway," Stan continued. "I saw Tad at the store."

"Who?" Ford asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Tad strange?" Stan began, "He's the most normal guy in Gravity Falls. You've never heard of him?"

Stanford shook his head at the question. "No, I haven't." He responded. The way that his brother had explained it, he felt a bit unintelligent for not knowing the man. However, he hadn't been in public much since he had come out of the portal. "Have you spoken to the twins lately?" He asked.

"Who?" Stan asked, mockingly.

Ford rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "The twins, Stanley. Dipper and Mabel?"

"Actually," Stan began. "I was thinkin' about it, but then Bill suggested it'd be better if you spoke to them first. Ya' know, now that you're awake and all." He said, shrugging.

Ford hummed in consideration. "That's a nice idea." He said with a smile.

"Yeah, thank the demon." Stan said, taking a sip of his soda.

"Stan, he's not a demon." Ford stated. Well, he is, but... Stanford just sighed. "Not in that particular context."

Stan shrugged innocently. "What? I was bein' serious, pointdexter. It wasn't meant as an insult this time." He stated. "So are you gonna' call 'em or not?" He asked, putting a hand on his hip as he took another sip of his soda.

"I suppose so," Ford said with a shrug. With that, he walked over to the table and picked up the phone. He put his hand out to dial the number, but stopped himself. He didn't know the number that he was calling. "Do you know the-?" He began, but before he could finish his sentence, his brother understood.

"Yeah, yeah. Hold on." Stan said, walking over. He dialed the number quick for the other and the phone began to ring. Stan leaned on the stone wall beside him as Ford tapped his fingers on the table.

The phone only rang a few times before he heard a voice on the other line. "Hello?" Ford heard. It was the voice of a young girl which he could tell was Mabel's voice.

"Hello, Mabel." Ford said with a smile. He didn't need to say any more before he heard the girl squealing in joy.

"Oh my gosh, Grunkle Ford?" She asked, beaming in glee. She took the phone away from her face and covered the microphone, yelling, "Dipper! Come down here, quick!"

Ford just chuckled and said, "How are you?"

"I'm great!" Mabel responded with a smile. "The better question is, how are you?"

Stan couldn't help but smile. "Told ya' it'd be better if you spoke first." He muttered to his brother.

Ford nodded in agreement to Stan's statement before responding to the girl. "I'm doing much better, thank you. I've been quite surprised lately, apparently I was unconcious for quite a long time." He said with a small sigh.

Mabel nodded. "Yeah... we had to come back to California before saying goodbye. I'm sorry, Grunkle Ford." She apologized with a frown.

"There's no need to apologize, Mabel." Ford began, "There wasn't much you could have done, it was for the best." He assured.

There wasn't a voice on the other line for a moment except for a few mutters. Mabel was likely talking to someone else. It wasn't long before Stanford heard a large gasp on the other line. Dipper had come downstairs and Mabel had informed him who was on the phone. Dipper snatched the phone and exclaimed, "Great uncle Ford?"

Ford chuckled. "Dipper, my boy, how are you?" He asked with a smile.

"Uh, I-I'm good!" He said with a grin. "How are you awake? When did you wake up?" He asked.

Stanford answered his questions before his nephew could ask more. "I'm not sure how I woke up, exactly. And It wasn't too long ago that I had woken up."

"Did you find out what Bill did to you?" Dipper asked.

"What?" Ford asked, confused. "Bill didn't do anything to harm me, Dipper. If anything, he did everything he could to help." He stated.

"That can't be true," Dipper said, "Grunkle Stan tried to force the answers out of him with violence, but Bill wouldn't admit to anything he did."

"He did what?" Ford asked, his hands grip on the phone tightening.

"I know! Bill wouldn't admit to what he did to you, and-" Dipper continued, but was stopped when he heard Ford speaking.

"No, no, no. That's not what I'm talking about. What exactly did Stan do?" Ford asked his nephew, shooting a glare at Stan. Stanley tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

What're they talkin' about? Stan asked himself. I know that look, Ford looks pretty pissed.

Dipper raised an eyebrow, but shrugged. "Um, all he did was grab him by the sweater and slam his back against the wall a few times. Some other fighting methods throughout, like punching and...well, punching." He said, scratching the back of his neck before continuing. "Kinda brutal, but nothing that Bill didn't deserve." Dipper stated with a nod of his head.

Ford bit his lip and cringed. "Well, Dipper, I hope you're doing well in California. I'll be sure to call again sometime." He said, hoping to end the phone call.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Dipper began, "There aren't many abnormal things in California other than weird rock shapes and strange wood carvings, but I got a journal of my own to write about my findings!"

"It's pink!" Mabel exclaimed from across the living room. Ford heard the comment and Dipper chuckled awkwardly.

"I- Yeah, It's pink, but it's pretty cool!" Dipper pointed out.

"And I'll be thrilled to hear about it soon, Dipper. But for right now, I must go." Ford stated.

"Oh," Dipper muttered. "Well, o-okay then!" He said with a smile.

"Bye!" Mabel shouted from across their living room.

Ford chuckled and ended the call saying, "Goodbye." He set the home phone down back onto it's stand and looked at Stanley. He cleared his throat before putting his hands on Stan's shoulders forcefully. "What were you hurting Bill for, you knucklehead?" He asked, a clear glare on his face.

"Woah, woah! Relax, pointdexter!" Stan said, raising his arms up slightly in an innocent manner. "I thought he did somethin' to hurt you, so I was lookin' for answers!" He admitted. "I thought he was lyin' at first, but I was wrong." Stan said, trying to shrug.

"Your dam right!" Ford shouted, his glare clear as his grip on his brother's shoulders got tighter.

"Hey, what's your deal?" Stan asked, glaring back. "Everyone makes mistakes!"

"Well, I'm sure you would know!" Ford exclaimed, referencing the past.

Stan's eyes widened at the comment. Within a few seconds, there was a look of hurt on his face, the room silent. Ford noticed the look and instantly regretted his words that he had used against his brother. Ford shook his head slowly and regretfully, showing a look of remorse. He took a step back from Stan and took his hands off his shoulders, however keeping them in front of him. "Stan, I-" He tried, but stopped when Stan put a hand up in front of his face.

"Forget it." Stan muttered, his fists clenched. "I don't blame ya' for keepin' a grudge." He said before walking out of the living room with a frown.

Ford bit his lip and sighed, face palming. How could I be so senseless? So inconsiderate? He asked himself. Before he could go to apologize, Fiddleford walked into the living room.

"Heya, Stanford." McGucket greeted with a smile.

"Hello." Ford muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"You said somethin' earlier about being 'gone' for 30 years. What were ya' doing?" McGucket asked.

Ford shrugged. "Well, it's a really long story." He said. A story I would rather not get into right now.

"I'm not goin' anywhere." McGucket said, sitting down on the couch. Fiddleford patted his hand on the couch, motioning for Ford to sit down. Ford was about to sit down, but saw Bill's head poking out the side of the living room doorframe. Ford looked at Bill and raised an eyebrow. Bill looked back at Ford and jerked his head to his left in a quick motion, hoping that Stanford would come.

Ford sighed and looked at McGucket. "Maybe later." He said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Before McGucket had a chance to answer, Ford spun around and headed out of the living room, walking out of the door frame sight and leaning against the wall beside it. "Mind explaining what it is you need?" He asked Bill.

"How long is he staying here?" Bill asked, folding his arms.

"I'm not sure, exactly." Ford admitted. "For a few more hours, I would assume."

"Hours?" Bill repeated, his hands dangling down by his knees as he tilted his head. "What am I supposed to do until then?" He asked.

Stanford shrugged. "Well," He began, "It's never too early to get to know him better, you're welcome to-"

"Get to know him?" Bill asked, scoffing. "He hates me, I could care less about befriending someone like him." He stated with a small glare.

Ford just rolled his eyes. "He's not so bad of a person. Right now, I think you both need to realize that." He said, folding his arms. "I'm hoping to rebuild what I broke with him all those years ago."

Hmph, so does he. Bill thought to himself. What a positive sign, I'm sure Fidds'll be thrilled when you tell him that.

Ford ran a hand through his hair and sighed, "Look, Bill. I'm not forcing you to do anything you don't want to. But it might be a good idea to at least talk to Fiddleford a bit." He said with a shrug.

"Oh, I think I've spoken with him enough, thank you." Bill stated with a sarcastic laugh.

Ford shook his head. "I'm talking about when I'm not around? If I'm in a different room, for example?"

"My point exactly." Bill said, rolling his eyes.

Stanford raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment. "I'll be in here if you need me-" Ford said, walking backwards a bit. But before he could leave, Bill grabbed his wrist and pulled him back over. Ford rolled his eyes and asked, "Yes?" With his arms folded.

"Your pal fiddlesticks over there is watching tv, can't we go work on something?" Bill asked, hopefully.

"What? He's not watching-" Ford began, turning around to look over at the doorframe. To his surprise, Fiddleford had taken the remote and turned the tv channel to a program. Ford hummed and turned back around, looking at Bill as the other man gave him an I-told-you-so type of look. "I stand corrected." Ford muttered.

Bill smirked. "Cool! What're we working on then, Fordsy?" He asked with a large grin on his face.

Ford put a hand out. "Don't start jumping to conclusions. What I had in mind for earlier was nothing exciting." He pointed out.

"Does this look like the face of a person who would care whether or not the activity was exciting?" Bill asked, pointing to his face.

"It does." Ford stated. "Remember when you first got here? You complained about anything and everything, always making it clear that you were bored." He said.

"What? I never complained-" Bill began, but stopped himself when he though back on the past few months. He looked away, thinking for a few moments as the room was silent, other than the tv in the background. Bill hummed and looked back at Ford, seeing him mocking the past I-told-you-so look that he had given him moments ago. Bill rolled his eyes at the facial expression. "Don't you mock me, Sixer!" He commanded, narrowing his eyes.

Ford chuckled, and put his hands behind his back. "Well, If you desperately wish to work on something, I wouldn't mind doing a few quick tests on the emotion reader." He said.

"What kind of tests can you do on a broken gadget?" Bill asked, raising an eyebrow. "Wasn't it broken this morning?"

"I find time to work on my inventions." Ford said with a shrug. Bill tilted his head, admittedly impressed. "Now, follow me. We can pass through the gift shop to get into the lab." He said.

"But through the living room is less of a walk." Bill pointed out.

Ford looked behind him, tilting his head to look into the living room. He noticed McGucket still at the couch watching tv and laughing hysterically. Ford turned around and shrugged. "He seems to be quite in depth with what he's watching. I wouldn't want to disturb." He said.

"I wouldn't mind disturbing." Bill said with an innocent shrug.

"Bill." Ford warned.

Bill just rolled his eyes. "Fine, we'll go the long way." He said, waving his hand dismissively. With that, the two walked over to the house's front door, leaving the house and heading outside. Bill looked around to see the snow on the ground melting. He got down on his knees, collecting a handful of snow. He glanced over slightly at Stanford, considering if he should throw a snowball. He shaped the snowball into a circle, and looked down at it. He considered throwing it until the shape got to him.

Round.

A circle. No triangle in sight. Just a circle.

He sighed and stood up, the snowball still in his hands. It was half melted and felt like slushie in his hands. He glared down at the snowball and threw it down on the ground and stepping on it brutally with his foot. His fists were clenched and he looked down at the now scattered ice-snow before him. His eyes squinted down at it when he noticed a strange black item crushed on the ground with a few small wires poking out of it. He bent down and grabbed it, picking it up. The item gave his fingers a slight shock of electricity. He flinched at the sudden pain but didn't fail to cherish it.

He looked closer at the broken device. It wasn't just a small, broken, black box, it was...

A camera?

What's a tiny camera doing in the yard? Bill asked himself. Has it always been here, or is someone watching?

Ford turned around to see that Bill had stopped moving. "Are you coming?" He asked from a short distance.

"Huh?" Bill asked, looking over at Ford. It didn't take long for him to remember what the plan was. "Oh, right." He muttered. Bill dropped the tiny camera back onto the ground, next to some tiny grey pebbles before catching up to Stanford.


Soos and Melody drove home from the doctor's office. When they got back to Angelita's house, Soos showed her the photos of their baby that they had gotten from the clinic while his girlfriend went to take a shower.

Abuelita and Soos were in the kitchen, speaking about the visit to the clinic. Abuelita held the photos with a smile on her face. "Yes, it is a beautiful baby." She said. "You will be a good father." She added, hanging one of the photos on the kitchen fridge and giving the other back to her grandson.

"Thanks, Abuelita." Soos said, chuckling. "Do you think think it's too early?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

"It is never too early," Abuelita assured, "Besides, I want nothing more but to see my Soos begin a family before my time comes." She added.

"Aw, don't talk like that about yourself, Abuelita." Soos began, "I'm sure you have plenty of time left!" He tried.

Abuelita just shrugged at the statement. "How is work going? Have you finally proven yourself for the Mr. Misery job?" She asked.

"Mr. Mystery," Soos corrected. "Stan still says I have a lot to learn about telling lies- er, I mean, stories about the items for sale in the gift shop. He also said I correct myself a lot when I explain stuff, and he says it makes the stories look fake. Do I, Abuelita?" He asked.

Abuelita was quiet for a moment, deciding what to say. She didn't want to hurt her grandson's feelings, but Soos really did correct himself often whenever he would bring up his job in a conversation. She just shrugged at the question. "I'll go vacuum the windows." She informed, before walking away into the living room.

Soos sighed and facepalmed. Man, I have got to work on my lying- er, my story telling.


"Jeez, Sixer. You really fixed this puppy up!" Bill praised, holding the emotion-reader in his hands. "It'll work for sure!"

Ford grinned at the compliment, but thought reasonably. "Let's not jinx it." He said.

Bill rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Anything new on the gizmo?" He asked.

"Not much," Ford admitted. "I still haven't decided a name for it. I'm sure one will come to mind in the future, but for now it's name is unknown. Other than the name, the device turned on correctly this morning, but I didn't use it on anyone." He informed.

"Well, here I am!" Bill said, extending his arms out by his sides, as if he were ready to be scanned at any moment.

"Are you sure you want to jump right into this? What if something goes wrong?" Ford questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Eh, I don't really care if I get a minor injury." Bill said with a shrug.

"Bill, side effects could go as far as neurotoxins being signaled to your brain." Ford warned. "We need to be careful with this."

"Brain sh'maine!" Bill said, waving his hand dismissively. "Hit me with your best shot!" He said with a grin.

Ford sighed, looking at the gadget. He's acting so unconcerned... I can't do this. Not yet. If he ends up being injured, I'll never forgive myself. Stanford looked up at Bill and set the gadget on his desk. "Maybe we should do this later." Ford said.

"Why?" Bill complained, folding his arms.

Ford thought for a moment, and said that, "There must be... errors in the system. It doesn't give an alert buzz when it starts up. That signal is, uh... is essential." He said, nodding his head in hopes of convincing Bill of his clear lie.

Bill rolled his eyes and walked up to Stanford with his hands on his hips. "Stanford Pines, you are skilled at many things. Lying is not one of them." He stated.

Ford rubbed the back of his neck and nodded with a small frown on his face. "I know..." He muttered.

Bill snickered at the behavior. "Aw, you're so cute when you admit that I'm right. You should really do it more often." He said with a smirk.

"Oh, believe me, I knew that I wasn't good at lying for a long time. I'm sorry to break it to you, but you aren't the first other person to discover that flaw." Ford stated.

Bill huffed. "Once, Sixer!" He began. Ford raised an eyebrow as he continued, "Just once you could have let me feel as if I-" He continued, but he stopped in his sentence when the elevator door opened. Ford turned around as Bill looked at the open door, and when Bill saw the man that had come down, he rolled his eyes. McGucket's not gone yet? Bill thought to himself

"You're not gone yet?" Bill asked, speaking his thoughts aloud and rolling his eyes.

"Bill," Ford warned, turning his head to look at him for a moment before looking back at the man in the elevator. "I'm sorry for leaving you downstairs, Fiddleford. You seemed quite amused with the program on tv, I didn't want to be the one to disturb." He said, shrugging.

"No need to apologize!" McGucket said with a laugh. "I had forgotten about the weekly episode of my favorite program, and I'm glad I didn't miss it." He said, walking out of the elevator.

Bill took a step forward. "Great! Would you like a ride home now?" He asked cheerfully, hoping the man would just leave.

Ford shot a quick glare at Bill, then turned back to look at McGucket. "You're free to stay as long as you'd like, Fiddleford. If you ever want to go home, just let me know." He said with a smile.

Bill's mouth hung open. Oh, come on! You're seriously gonna let this idiot stay here, Sixer? I might be able to put up with him for a bit, but I'm not letting him get all your attention after today!


Three months.

Three long, boring, months.

For the past three months, Fiddleford had been visiting the shack almost every day. It was unamusing at first for Bill, but it quickly began to tick him off. Bill feared for his sanity, and he didn't know how much longer he could stand Ford's old friend visiting. Over the past three months, McGucket and Stanford had begun to bond, getting closer and closer, and becoming very close friends once again.

Whenever Bill looked at McGucket, he could tell that the old man was looking at Stanford in adulation and admiration. Ford's attention seemed to be something to fight for between the two. Fiddleford was unaware that Bill had developed a minor crush on his former lover, but Bill was sure that when he did find out, things wouldn't end well.

Stan and Ford hadn't been talking much at first, either. The days were spent away from each other for nearly a month, until Stan decided to forgive his brother's actions after all of the apologies that Ford had given. After that, the two spoke again, but not often with the so called "visitor" around.

He might as well move right in. Bill thought to himself. If Sixer keeps bringing him back every day, maybe Fiddlesticks should just take my place! It's not like I'm needed anymore.

And, it seemed like Fiddleford had. And that's what upset Bill the most.

"Sixer!" Bill exclaimed, rushing into the living room where Ford and McGucket were sitting on the couch. He looked at Ford and saw that one leg was crossed over his other in a rather relaxed state.

Ford turned to look at Bill and tilted his head. "Yes?" He questioned.

"Can we work on the device now?" Bill asked, hopefully.

Ford sighed. "Bill, we worked on that last..." He began, but came to a stop when he couldn't remember when the last time had been. He held out a hand in front of him, looking down and counting on his fingers. "One week, two, three..," He muttered. Ford set his hand down and cleared his throat. "Well, it was fairly recent, wasn't it?" He said with a shrug.

Bill folded his arms. "Four weeks." He corrected. "That's almost an entire month!" He practically scolded.

Stanford had a small look of guilt on his face, but Bill didn't seem to identify it. "Look Bill, we can work on it a bit later. I'm quite gripped by this conversation with-"

"With Fiddlesticks." Bill muttered, rolling his eyes and walking out of the living room and into the gift shop, not bothering to say another word.

He pushed the door open, and saw Stan counting his money by the register, leaning on the counter with his elbows. He had his usual work uniform on, even though there were no customers at the moment. Bill wore a frown as he walked towards the door that would lead outside as Stanley put some of the money back into the cash register.

Stan looked up a bit and saw the demons glum facial expression. "Hey, what's the big idea?" He asked.

"I didn't steal anything this time, I promise." Bill stated, not giving eye contact as he continued to walk.

"That's not what I'm askin'." Stan said, rolling his eyes.

Bill stopped in his tracks, and turned to face Stan's direction by the door. "Then what?" He asked.

"You've been lookin' pretty upset lately. Did somethin' happen?" Stan questioned.

Bill shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. "I dunno. There's this weird thing going on with me recently, and-" He began, but was stopped when Stan gave a small look of horror.

"Oh jeez, you're not goin' through some sort of man-puberty, are you?" Stan asked, extending his arms out slightly and turning his head away.

"Wha- h-huh? No!" Bill exclaimed, giving a look of disgust. "It's about Sixer. He's really distant lately. And it's really starting to piss me off." He admitted, clenching his fists slightly.

"Yeah, he does that a lot," Stan said with a shrug. "You get used to it after a while."

"I can't get used to him ignoring me!" Bill exclaimed.

Stan shrugged and looked at the demon, setting the money down on the counter. "Well, what else are ya' supposed to do?" He questioned.

"I dunno," Bill muttered. "But I want Fiddlesticks out!" He exclaimed, pointing his index finger at the door and glaring. "I'm sick and tired of him getting all the attention from Fordsy!"

"Wait, wait," Stan began. "This is about McGucket?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah!" Bill exclaimed, glaring.

"Well I'm with ya' on that." Stan admitted with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Oh, don't you take that tone with me, Fe-" Bill began, until he realized what the other man had said. "Wait, what?"

"What? He's overstayed his welcome in my book, and as far as I'm concerned, He should go back to livin' at his house." Stan stated truthfully. "I didn't say anything about it because, well, i'm not the one who runs the house anymore." He continued, muttering the last bit.

"So," Bill began, folding his arms, "You want him out, and I want him out?" He questioned.

"Yup." Stan muttered with a small shrug. "Too bad we can't do anything about it."

Bill hummed for a moment, looking around the gift shop. "Maybe..," He began, "Maybe we can do something about it." He mused with a smirk.

"I'd do anything if it means gettin' Fidds out of the shack." Stan stated, folding his arms.

Bill looked at the man with a smirk. "Anything?" He repeated.

Stan put his hands up in front of him when he remembered just who he was speaking to. "Alright, alright. Almost anything." He corrected, rolling his eyes.

Bill snickered. "Relax, Fez. I'm only joking." He stated.

Stan narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sure if I should trust that." He said. Bill just ignored the comment before Stan said, "Whatddya' got?"

"Well," Bill began. "Sixer and McGucket spend a lot of time together, right?"

"Mhm." Stan said, leaning over the counter a bit to listen.

"Sixer says I should 'spend some more time' with Fiddlesticks. So, I'll tell him that I'm willing to spend some time with McGucket, and before he can protest, you come in and tell dear ol' Fordsy that you want to go somewhere with him." Bill said with a grin.

"Huh," Stan muttered. "That just might work." He said. "But how does that get Fiddleford outta' the shack?" He asked.

"Aha!" Bill said with a smirk, walking over to the counter and looking Stan in the eyes, narrowing his eyes with his smirk still easy to see. "Double hates!"

"Double whats?" Stan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Double hates!" Bill exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. "It's like a double date, but with the person you hate! Me with Fiddlesticks, and you with Sixer!" He said with a grin.

Stan rolled his eyes. "I don't hate my brother." He stated.

"And your customers don't hate your high prices." Bill said.

"They're customers for a reason, aren't they?" Stan defended, shrugging his shoulders innocently.

"Whatever, do we have a plan or not? You drive wherever we go, and drop him off at his house when we're going back to the shack." Bill said. "Oh! And make sure that Fiddlesticks is in the passengers seat, I want to get some payback on Ford for all the times he's let that guy sit in the passengers seat and not me." He added, folding his arms and looking away with a small frown on his face.

Stan raised an eyebrow. "You do realize that if I'm drivin' and McGucket's up in front, you and Ford'll be in the back together."

Bill shrugged unbothered by the condition, but Stan continued. "I mean, literally together. I've got some stuff I've gotta' drop off, and it's gonna take up a seat." He said. "Well, I could just put the bags in-between the seat and separate the two of ya'-"

"No!" Bill exclaimed, which grabbed Stan's attention in a confused way. Bill chuckled slightly at his immediate reaction. "Uh, you don't have to do that. I-I hate the seats by the windows. The sun always gets in my eyes." He lied, squinting his eyes for show.

Stan narrowed his eyes, but shrugged. "Whatever." He muttered, "I guess this thing's worth a try. But whatever we're doin' is coming out of your paycheck."

"I don't work at the gift shop." Bill reminded.

"Ya' do now." Stan stated, putting a familiar blue and white hat on top of his head.

Bill took the hat off his head and chucked it across the room, scoffing. "Ugh, that's one of those stupid hats that pine tree wears. I refuse to wear that to work." He stated, folding his arms and glaring at Stan.

"Aha! So you accept the job!" Stan said with a wide grin. "Work starts tomorrow."

Bill felt the urge to protest, but decided against it, as he would probably still be expected to work at the shack anyway. "Sure, Fez," He muttered. "Let's go talk to Sixer and Fidds." He said, and the two walked into the living room.

When they walked back into the living room, Stanford and McGucket were still speaking, but they were standing up rather than sitting on the couch. Bill walked up to Ford as Stan pretended to mind his own business.

"Hey, Fordsy!" Bill said with a grin. As if he had been completely ignored and not noticed, Ford and McGucket continued conversation as if they hadn't been interrupted. Bill raised an eyebrow, and snapped his fingers in front of Ford's face. The other man didn't notice the behavior. He didn't even flinch. Instead, he just chuckled at something Fiddleford had said, and began to speak about something science-related.

"Sixer?" Bill questioned, snapping his fingers in the other man's face again.

And again.

And again.

Bill was jumping in front of Ford's face, clapping and snapping his hands in front of the man to get his attention, but nothing worked. It was as if Bill wasn't even there. As if he were a ghost that Stanford and Fiddleford were unable to see.

Stan noticed the situation and glared. "Hey, pointdexter!" He shouted, clenching his fists.

Ford turned to face Stan, raising an eyebrow. "What is it, Stanley?" He asked with a small smile.

"You're not listenin' to Bill." Stan stated, putting his hands on his hips.

"Huh? Ford asked, and looked to the side of him, flinching and exclaiming in surprise when Bill was standing right beside him. "Oh!" He exclaimed. "I'm so sorry. What is it, Bill?" He questioned, remorse on his face.

"I wanna talk to Fiddlesticks for a while." Bill said with a shrug. "I've been thinking about you said for, oh, three months now, and I've decided that I want to talk to him alone for a bit. That cool?" He asked with a grin.

Ford shrugged and sighed. "I don't know, Bill. Maybe you and Stan could bond while we talk for a little while longer-"

"No need!" Stan exclaimed with a grin plastered along his face, seeing his place in the plan beginning. "How's about we take some time out doing brotherly-bonding type stuff? Ya' know, go and eat at the diner or somethin'!" He said, resting his elbow on Ford's shoulder and leaning against it gently.

"Stan, not right-" Ford began, but was interrupted by his brother.

"What, you're gonna spend more time with the same guy you've been talkin' to every damn day for three months rather than spendin' some time with your own brother?" Stan asked, acting offended.

Bill nodded at Stan's statement. "Gotta say, that's pretty cold hearted of you, Stanford!" He said, shaking his head in shame to guilt trip the man.

Ford sighed. "Well, I suppose I wouldn't mind a bit of-"

"Perfect!" Stan said, putting his hand on Ford's back and guiding him out of the living room. "Let's go talk for a while, then we could all go!"

"My, what a lovely idea, Fez!" Bill agreed suspiciously with a smile.

Fiddleford raised an eyebrow. "What just happened?" He asked.

Bill shrugged innocently. "I call it separation. But you can call it something else if you'd like."

"What?" McGucket asked.

Bill looked over to make sure Stan had taken Ford somewhere else before glaring at McGucket. "Alright, Fiddlesticks. Consider this a warning. You're around Ford a lot. And he hardly realizes that it's been three months!" Bill stated.

"Well," Fiddleford tried, but Bill put his hand out, signaling that he wasn't finished speaking.

"Now, I can understand your little...crush on Sixer, because-" Bill continued, but stopped himself before giving certain information away. "Because I know you two were good friends in the past. But things have changed around here, Fidds, and I'm not letting you replace me." Bill said, glaring with his hands on his hips.

"I don't really like getting into arguments," Fiddleford began, "But I know that you don't have control over me or where I stand with Stanford." He said.

Bill narrowed his eyes. "We'll see about that." He stated, leaving the room to head over to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Stan and Ford were sitting at the table, speaking. Bill pointed behind him with his thumb, signaling that it would be best to head into to town before it got too late. Stan nodded, understanding, and pretended to listen to whatever Stanford had been babbling about.

Ford looked over at the doorframe and saw Bill standing there. He got up out of his seat and gave a remorseful smile. "Are you okay?" He asked, even though he was sure he knew the answer.

Bill shrugged as if there was nothing bothering him. "Yeah." He said, looking away.

Ford sighed and put a hand on Bill's shoulder. "Look Bill, I'm sorry for not spending much time with you recently. In fact, I'm positive I owe you more than an apology." He said, muttering the last bit.

Bill shrugged once more and leaned against the wall. "Don't worry about it, Sixer. It was only three months." He said in a manner that really guilt tripped Stanford, again.

Ford looked down at the ground in shame at how easily he had let time slip by so fast. How has it been three months already? How do I make up for something like this? I completely ignored him, as if he wasn't there.

"Heh, you must feel like a real jerk, huh pointdexter?" Stan asked, walking up to Ford and patting him on the back rather roughly before leaving the kitchen. Ford gave Stan a glare as his brother left the room, even though Ford knew he deserved it.

"We'll spend some time at the diner," Ford assured Bill. "I promise."

Bill looked into the other man's eyes and nodded. They looked at each other for a moment, and Bill got some sort of feeling that humans were supposed to kiss at times like these. He shut his eyes and leaned in by Ford's face, but Stanford gave him a pat on the shoulder and left the kitchen before he got the chance.

"Alright, pointdexter," Stan began as soon as he saw Ford leave the kitchen. Stan and McGucket were standing next to each other by the door, waiting for the others. "You ready to go?" He asked.

Ford nodded. "Yes, I'm ready. Fiddleford?" He asked, looking at the man mentioned.

"Ready!" McGucket exclaimed with a grin.

"You sure you're not forgettin' any of your stuff?" Stan asked Fiddleford.

"Nope!" Fiddleford responded as Bill left the kitchen, meeting the other three by the door.

Stan shrugged, and the four headed out the front door. Bill narrowed his eyes when McGucket walked beside Ford, but didn't make a big deal out of it. Stan went to the drivers seat before his brother could take it. Ford walked over to the passengers seat, but when he opened the car door, Stan put his hand out on the seat. "You're not sittin' up here, Ford." Stan stated.

Ford raised an eyebrow. "Mind explaining why not?" He asked.

"McGucket's sittin' up front." Stan informed.

Fiddleford exclaimed in joy and hopped into the passengers seat. Ford rolled his eyes and went to the back seat. He chose to sit on the left side of the car by the window.

Just as Bill had been told, there were some bags taking up the other window seat which were handy, as he could use it as an excuse in case he needed one. He ended up sitting in the middle of the back seat, which he didn't complain about. In a matter of minutes, the car was on the road.

"So," Stan began. "Are you and Fidds back together yet?" He asked, looking at Ford through the mirror up front before looking back on the road.

Fords eyes widened at the question and he was quick to shake his head. "What?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "No, why would you think that?" He asked.

Stan shrugged. "Well, he was cuddlin' against ya' the other day when the two of you were watchin' tv, so I thought you got back together or somethin'." Stan said with a shrug.

Bill shot a glare towards Fiddleford, but the man it was directed to didn't notice the look that was given. Ford, however, saw the look on Bill's face and felt a wave of guilt pass by him. He just hoped Bill understood that it wasn't a romantic type of gesture of any kind.

"I can assure you, Stanley," Ford began, his voice firm. "We're not in a relationship."

Not yet. Bill thought to himself.

Not yet. Fiddleford thought to himself.

"Not yet!" Stan said, laughing hysterically at his statement. Ford rolled his eyes at his brother, and Bill glared out the window, folding his arms and turning away from the man sitting beside him.

Stanford looked at Bill and saw him looking away, clearing upset. He gently rested his hand on Bill's shoulder, which Bill only jerked away.

Stanley could notice the silence in the car other than his laughter, and he sighed. "Look, sorry pointdexter. You know I've gotta' make a joke outta' what I got, ya' know?" He said with a shrug, still smiling.

"Yes, you've said that your entire life, Stanley." Ford muttered.

Fiddleford looked over at Stan and said, "What about you, Stan? Do you have a love interest?"

Stan looked forward, shrugging and saying, "I'm not gonna answer that."

"So you do?" Fiddleford questioned.

"Oh, look! We're at the diner!" Stan exclaimed frantically, making a sudden turn and driving through a rather large bush to get to the diner faster. The branches in the bush hit against the car roughly as he drove faster.

Fiddleford smiled wide, throwing his arms up in the air and exclaiming "Whee!" during the moment.

Fords eyes widened and he grunted at his brother's stupidity. "Stan, what the hell are you doing?" He exclaimed, giving a confused gesture.

Bill looked up front at the windshield and smirked, pushing his frustration aside and laughing. "Drive faster, Fez!" He exclaimed, leaning over in his seat to look closer at the windshield. "Yeesh, this bush is huge!"

"Don't go faster, slow down!" Ford exclaimed, putting his hands in his hair. "You're gonna scratch up the paint on the car!"

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy, Sixer!" Bill scolded, glaring at him for a moment before smiling again and laughing.

Ford groaned and tilted his head back, annoyed at how badly the car would be damaged after this.

"Woohoo!" Fiddleford exclaimed, laughing along hysterically.

Stan squinted his eyes and said, "The driveway's up ahead, hold onto somethin' if you don't want a concussion!" He exclaimed. Bill and McGucket did as told, and Ford ducked his head under his arms as he hung onto the shoulders of the passengers seat. There was a large ramp at the end of the bush, and when Stan drove out of the bush, he didn't have time to realize the ramp was there until the car was being shot up at least 8 feet in the air.

Bills eyes widened and he leaned over by Ford to look through his window. He looked out the window and grinned when he saw that the car was off the ground. "Woah!" He exclaimed.

Ford looked up and out his window as well, looking down and glaring. "Stanley!" He shouted, glaring at his brother.

"We're goin' down, brace yourselves!" Stan exclaimed as the car began to fall. Bill laughed a viscous laugh as the vehicle came down, and Fiddleford exclaimed in alarm.

"We're gonna die!" McGucket shouted, afraid.

"Oh, don't be such a baby!" Stan shot at Fiddleford.

"At least we're gonna die doing something awesome!" Bill said with a grin, not opposed to the situation one bit...

...until he noticed how fast the car was really falling.

Okay, okay, maybe this isn't such a good thing after all... Bill thought to himself. "Stan, maybe you should listen to Sixer and slow the car down now!" He exclaimed, his hands suddenly shaking frantically.

Ford desperately wanted to make a 'Wouldn't be the first time I'm correct' type of comment, but he looked over and noticed Bills hands shaking. Ford raised an eyebrow. His hands were shaking like this back at the police station. Maybe this is how his fear is presented. Ford didn't know, but he saw Bills frightened look on his face beginning to show as well.

"How am I supposed to slow this car down? And anyways, we're landin'!" Stan exclaimed.

Bill's hands continued to shake in his lap, and Ford could tell by his facial expression that he was truly afraid. In the heat of the moment, Ford wrapped his arms around Bill and pulled him close, embracing him in a protective manner. Bill grabbed onto Ford's sweater desperately and rested his head on his chest, squinting his eyes shut and shaking as the car hit the ground.

CRASH!

There was dust surrounding the car windows. There were multiple groans of pain from inside the car, however no one was terribly injured save a few forming bruises here and there. Fiddleford pinched himself on the arm to make sure he was still living. "We're alive!" Fiddleford exclaimed, smiling thankfully.

As if Bill had never been scared, he pulled away from Stanford and threw his arms up in the air, exclaiming, "That was awesome!"

Ford rolled his eyes at Bill's statement, and Stan laughed hysterically. "You said it, Cipher!" Stan encouraged with a nod of his head. Stan, Bill, and Ford were quick to get out of the vehicle, Stanford looking at the damage inflicted on the car. When the other three got out of the car, Fiddleford looked around while he was still inside the car to make sure no one was watching him. He slipped a small microphone out of his pocket and placed it under one of the seats in the car before getting out as well.

"Ha!" Stan exclaimed. "We're all in one piec-!" He exclaimed, put was stopped in his sentence when Ford gave him a harsh punch to the face. Stan held onto his face, raising an eyebrow at his brother. "Hey, what was that for?" He asked.

"You could have gotten us all killed!" Stanford shouted, clenching his fists and glaring. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that stunt was?" He asked.

"Hey, it was just a little harmless fun, pointdexter." Stan defended.

"Harmless? Harmless?" Ford repeated, his glare growing. "Are you kidding me? Look at the car!"

Stan looked over at the car and chuckled. "It looks just like the old one now! I don't know what you're complainin' about." He said with a shrug.

"Hey, you're right!" Bill commented, folding his arms. "It looks a lot like the old one."

"See?" Stan said, extending his arms and pointing them towards Bill. "Even the terrorist agrees with me!" He said, putting his hands on his hips.

Ford narrowed his eyes at the words spoken and clenched his teeth together. "Call him a terrorist again, Stanley." He dared, clenching his fists.

"Stan?" A strange yet familiar voice called out. Stan raised an eyebrow and looked around him, not seeing anyone. He looked by the entrance of the diner and saw Susan Wentworth standing by the door.

Stan's eyes widened and he adjusted his hat, clearing his throat. "Susan?"

The woman nodded. "How was your fishing trip with your twin brother?"

"Uhh," Stan muttered, scratching the back of his neck and looking away. "Plans changed." He responded.

"Well, let's talk about it!" Lazy Susan said with a smile. "Come on in!" She encouraged, holding the door open.

With that, the four entered the diner. Stan and Ford sat next to each other on one side, Bill and Fiddleford sitting beside each other on the other side. Bill and McGucket looked at each other for a moment and narrowed their eyes. Susan sat beside Stan. Stanley moved over for her to have room, and the side of Ford's face was pressed against the window. Stanford rolled his eyes, but decided not to speak.

"So what did you end up doing when you didn't go fishing?" Lazy Susan asked.

Stan shrugged. "Well, I got some side effects from stuff, and got some amnesia once and a while. Still get it from time to time, but it's nothin' serious." He informed, taking a sip from the water glass in front of him.

"Side effects?" Susan questioned. "From what?"

"Uhh," Stan muttered, tapping his fingers on the table for a moment. "Hit my head on somethin'. My nerdy brother said it was 'nurro-lock-pick-all amnesia'." Stan said, making a quote-unquote gesture with his fingers.

"Neurological amnesia." Ford corrected.

"Potato Tomato." Stan said, waving his hand dismissively.

Ford raised an eyebrow and looked at his brother. "That doesn't make sense, Stanley." He muttered.

"Who's Stanley?" Lazy Susan repeated, confused. Clearly she hadn't been informed about Stan's false name from the past. "Stanford, what's your brother talking about?"

Ford ran a hand through his hair nervously, not used to being addressed by people he didn't know well. "Some days I don't know what he's talking about...-" Ford muttered, until he realized that Susan wasn't intentionally addressing him. "Wait- Stan, you didn't tell her?" He asked, surprised and annoyed.

"You expected me to?" Stan asked, looking at his brother.

"I told you by the end of the summer that I would get my house back, get rid of your whole 'Mystery Shack' setup, and that I would get my name back!" Ford stated, looking at Stan.

"Well, you let me stay in your house, and the Mystery Shack is still up and runnin', I didn't think the whole name change thing needed to be addressed to everyone in Gravity Falls!" Stan said, folding his arms. "I figured if you wanted everyone to know that you're the real Stanford, you'd just tell em' yourself!"

Ford grunted at his brothers statement. "You know I'm an introvert, Stanley..!" He pointed out, slouching down in his seat slightly.

"Still?" McGucket asked, raising an eyebrow before taking a drink from his water glass.

Bill rolled his eyes at Fiddleford. "It's not like it's some sort of thing that wares off, Fiddlesticks." He said, glaring.

"As confused as I am right now, I'll go get you all some of my famous blackberry pie!" Lazy Susan said, walking away from the booth without saying another word. Ford pushed Stan away to the other side of the seat to get some more room.

Bill cleared his throat after watching the lady leave, and turned to look at Ford. "Have you ever met her, Sixer?" He asked, confused.

Ford shook his head slightly. "Not that I can remember." He responded.

"Yea' you have, Stanford." Fiddleford said. "Remember that night at the karaoke bar?"

Ford hummed in thought, not recalling the exact night that Fiddleford was talking about. "Which time?" He asked.

"That night when Susan first got together with her boyfriend, and when we first got together that same night. Then we did that karaoke contest against each other. Ya' know, couple against couple?" Fiddleford said, shrugging.

Stanford nearly choked on the water that he had been drinking as Fiddleford explained. He was quick to swallow the water in his mouth down his throat before the water could go down into his lungs. He coughed and hacked, clenching a fist and placing it on the table as he pounded his chest to stop the coughing. Stanley grunted and slapped his brother on the back, causing his cough to slow.

Ford looked around him and noticed half the people in the diner looking at him. He cleared his throat and tapped his fingers on the booth table awkwardly, trying to ignore the people staring. "Thanks, Stanley." He muttered, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "Yes, I remember that that night quite well." He confirmed to the man who had explained the night.

"And then after the night we-" McGucket continued, but was stopped when Ford nodded frantically.

"Yes." Ford confirmed with a quick nod of his head. "Yes, yes. I remember-"

"Went home and-" Fiddleford continued.

"I remember-" Ford stated, his voice firm.

The booth was silent for a moment, and the only things audible around them were the other people in the diner having their own separate conversations. As the booth was silent, Fiddleford finally said, "...canoodled!"

Stan let out a loud "Hah!" And grinned ear to ear at his brother. "Canoodled! What else did ya' do with him Sixer, swive?" He asked, raising his eyebrows up and down a couple times at Ford in a jokingly manner.

"How did you know?" Fiddleford asked, laughing along with Stan.

Ford groaned and hid his face behind one of his hands, shaking his head slowly. Why?

"If I'm bein' honest," Fiddleford continued, "I kinda miss the ol' days." He admitted with a shrug. Bill clenched his fists under the table, fighting the urge to inflict violent gestures to the man sitting beside him.

Stan looked over at his brother and raised an eyebrow, a wide smirk on his face. "Woah-ho-hooa! Whatddya' gonna say to that, pointdexter?" He questioned.

"Uhm..," Ford muttered, looking down at the table and avoiding eye contact with anyone at the booth.

"What's that I see?" Stanley began with a smirk. "Hey, it might just be my ancient eyes, but it looks like you're blushin' over there, bro!" Stan joked, snickering and smacking his brother on the back playfully. Ford grunted and glared at his brother before looking back at the table in humiliation.

McGucket stood up and took a step back away from the booth "I'll be right back." He informed, and walked away to the restroom.

Bill watched him leave and narrowed his eyes, finding this as a good time to confront the man. He looked back at Stan and said, "Yeah, me too." before standing up.

Stan shrugged, and Bill left the booth to go speak to Fiddleford privately. Stanley looked at his brother and sighed. "Look Ford, as your twin brother i'm required by sibling law to joke about ya' whenever an opportunity comes."

"I can tell." Ford muttered, running a hand through his hair and sighing.

Bill narrowed his eyes as he walked directly behind and pushed open the door to the restroom, seeing the man he was going to confront. He took McGucket by the wrists in his right hand, and pushed him up against the wall with force. Fiddleford tried to shout in fear at the sudden gestures as he looked into the demons eyes, but Bill put his hand over the others mouth.

"Alright Fiddlesticks, listen here and listen good," Bill began, glaring at McGucket in a serious manner. "I've heard enough of your lovey-dovey past with Sixer, it's getting annoying as hell. In fact, the only person actually finding it amusing besides yourself is Stanley!" He said, the glare still clear on his face.

Fiddleford tried to squirm away, but Bill made sure that he stayed in place until his rant was finished. "Oh, who am I kidding? Stan's only making a joke out of it to humiliate his brother. So congratulations on getting laid by Ford in the past, but that was over 30 years ago. If you haven't noticed, I don't think he's still into you. He's moved on, Fidds! I think it's time you do the same."

"Mu dnft nuwh thrt." Fiddleford responded, narrowing his eyes.

Bill rolled his eyes. "You should really speak a bit more clearly." He stated.

Fiddleford looked down at the hand that was being forced over his mouth, and looked back at Bill, unamused by his statement.

"Do us all a favor, Fiddlesticks." Bill continued, "Do your own thing, Mind your own life, and back off my Sixer!" He spat, narrowing his eyes and glaring.

McGucket raised an eyebrow. "Yfr Simzr?" He repeated, confused.

"My Sixer." Bill confirmed in a whisper. He let go of Fiddlefords shoulders and took a step back, folding his arms and glaring.

McGucket rubbed one of his shoulders at the pain, and looked at Bill. "I-I'm not afraid of you, Cipher." He said.

Bill chuckled mockingly and rolled his eyes. "Your trembling knees tell me otherwise." He said. "I'm finished ranting. Next time won't be a warning. You got it?" He asked, pointing a finger at him.

As much as Fiddleford wanted to argue with the rant, he decided to just agree with the demon in hopes of him leaving. The last thing he wanted was to get hurt and then have to explain why. So, he just nodded at the question. "Ye', I-I got it." He said, backing up slightly and putting his hands out in front of him.

"Good." Bill said, and opened the door to head back to the booth. McGucket sighed in relief when the man left. I'd say I have competition, but I'm really not too worried about this. I already know Stanford wouldn't have any feelings for that demon in his right mind.

Bill unclenched his fists when he walked back to the booth, and when he did he noticed that Stanley and Stanford were arguing over if stones or rocks skipped better in water when you threw one.

"Small stones, such as pebbles, have more of a flat surface on the bottom making it easier for it to skip across the water!" Ford stated, running a hand through his hair and clenching his fist on the tabletop.

"Large rocks are more threatening to the water, so the ocean'll just give up and let the rocks travel on top of it!" Stan shot back, slamming his fist down on the table in protest.

Bill rolled his eyes at the conversation. "Is this the kind of stuff you old folk argue about when your lives get boring?" He questioned.

Stan shook his head and shrugged. "Nah, I would talk about me commiting donut theft the other day, but I don't think pointdexter wants to hear about more stuff that's goin' on his law record." He said, adjusting his fez hat.

Ford groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Stan, will you ever give up your obvious enjoyment of crime?" He asked, folding his arms.

"Hmm," Stan hummed, acting as if he was deciding an answer. He grinned ear to ear as his eyes separated away from each other. "Nope!" He exclaimed, hands on his hips.

Bill snickered and looked at Stan's brother, who was looking out the window as a cat ran past. Bill looked back at Stan, saying, "So, what's the plan with Fiddlesticks, fez?" He asked.

Stan raised an eyebrow, unsure of what the man was asking. Bill rolled his eyes and kicked Stan's ankle from under the table, glaring with his eyes wide open. Stan grunted and he realized what was going on. "Oh, right." Stan muttered, "Uh, McGucket told me he wants to go home instead of doin' this." He said with a shrug.

"When did he say that?" Stanford asked, turning to look at his brother and suddenly engaging in the conversation.

Stan just smirked at the question. "He told me when you were over in the back seat screamin' your head off at me." He said with a shrug. Bill snickered and looked out the window.

"You're exaggerating on that last bit." Ford stated, pointing a finger at Stanley. "And it's likely he was speaking about the current situation at that time, not-"

"Nope!" Stan exclaimed again. "I know what I heard, pointdexter." He stated, with a nod of his head. "Didn't ya' hear him say that too, Bill?" He asked.

Bill raised an eyebrow, looking back at Stan in a confused manner. Stanley rolled his eyes and kicked Bill from under the table in the same manner that the demon had done to him. Bill flinched suddenly and was quick to nod. "Oh, right!" He exclaimed, smiling innocently. "Yeah, I heard him say that." He confirmed.

Ford hummed in suspicion, but didn't have time to say anything about it when Fiddleford showed up at the booth. Stan stood up quickly and said. "Well, the other one's back. Time to head back to the car!" He exclaimed. With that, Stan and Bill rushed over to the door. Bill held the door open as Stan left the diner. Fiddleford raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"What're we doin'?" McGucket questioned, walking over to the door.

"We're leaving!" Bill said with a grin. "Just like you wanted." He said.

Ford headed out the door to get back to the car, and Fiddleford shook his head. "W-wait, I never said I wanted to lea-" He stated, but was cut off when Bill balanced his arm over McGuckets shoulder, covering the smaller man's mouth with his hand.

"Yeah you did, Fidds!" Stan argued. "Remember?"

Fiddleford shook his head slowly as Bill took his hand away from his mouth so that he could speak again. McGucket just shrugged. "N-no, I don't." He admitted.

"Hm," Stan hummed for a moment as he opened his car door. "Must be some sorta' side effect from all the times you erased your memory with that memory gun of yours." He assumed.

"You knew 'bout that?" Fiddleford questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Stan nodded and got into the drivers seat of his car. "Of course I knew, the twins tell me more than you'd think they would." He informed.

"I still don't know if there would be any side effects..." Fiddleford muttered to himself as he opened the door to the passengers seat.

Stanford opened the back seat's door, and Bill stepped inside. Ford sat down beside him and shut the door as Stan started up the car.

"Radio?" Stan asked, looking at McGucket and the others behind him.

Fiddleford and Stanford shrugged, and Bill nodded. "Sure." He said, leaning back and folding his arms.

Stan pressed the radio button after getting on the road, and the last radio station that had been playing came on. The station was playing a synthesized pop song with electric instruments easy to hear. Bill cringed at the specific type of music and clasped his hands over his ears, squinting his eyes and kicking his legs frantically. "Ah! Turn it off!" He exclaimed in agony.

Ford looked over in concern and raised an eyebrow. "Bill, what's going on?" He asked, putting a hand on the frantic man's shoulder to give a bit of reassurance.

Bill just groaned in response, shaking his head. "The synthesized music! It-it's terrible!" He exclaimed, still shaking his head.

Stan rolled his eyes. "All ya' had to do was ask for a different song, yeesh." He stated, turning the car radio's dial to something more pleasant.

Bill didn't trust that the music was switched, so he kept his hands on his ears, all he actually did was open his eyes. Ford looked at him and said, "The music is off, you can take your hands off your ears now." He assured.

Bill shook his head, not trusting the statement. Stanford rolled his eyes and grabbed one of Bill's wrists gently, pulling the arm away from his head. Bill cringed and squinted his eyes, assuming that the music was still playing. To his surprise, he heard a soft guitar song playing on the radio rather than the terrible music that had been playing before. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. "...Oh." He muttered.

Fiddleford laughed from the front seat, amused by the reaction. Bill glared over at the man and clenched his fists by his sides. "Can it, Fiddlesticks!" He demanded.

"Sorry, sorry," Fiddleford said, still chuckling between his words. "I just- you act so fearless and then act like a child when you don't like a certain type of music." He said, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face and facepalming, still laughing.

Bill growled and extended his fist up in front of him, unbuckling his seatbelt. There was a look on Bill's face that told Ford he was going for violence. Bill moved forward in a quick motion to get up to the front seat to strangle Fiddleford, but was stopped halfway when Ford grabbed onto Bill's waist to stop him from moving; and to stop the behavior planned. Stanford pulled him back over to the back seat, rolling his eyes.

Bill sat back down and folded his arms, narrowing his eyes at Ford. "He deserves it!" He stated innocently.

"Violence in a moving vehicle is a bit much, isn't it?" Ford pointed out.

"Not if it's for the greater good." Bill muttered.

Stan smirked, but nodded in agreement with his brother. "Yeah, you don't wanna mess the car up more than you already did, do ya'?" He said with a shrug.

"You were driving!" Bill and Ford stated in unison. Stan just rolled his eyes, deciding not to make a comment back.

The car drive continued for a couple minutes with not much talking, as everyone seemed to be occupied with something. With Stan driving, Fiddleford looking out his window, Bill plotting his revenge on McGucket, and Stanford writing down a few notes on a notepad that he kept in his lab coat, no one had much to say. The car took a turn to the right to head up the mountain that Fiddleford's house was up on.

McGucket noticed the mountain and raised an eyebrow, looking at Stan. "Why're we goin' here?" He asked, confused.

"I got some stuff I gotta' drop off." Stan informed.

Bill smirked, surprised Stan was actually going with his plan. He never realized how Stan could be if you got on his good- well, not bad side. Bill knew that Stan still held a grudge against him, but Bill didn't expect otherwise.

The car got to the top of the hill, and the car was parked in front of the gates of McGucket's house.

"W-wait," Fiddleford began, even more confused now. "Why are we here?" He asked.

Ford raised an eyebrow, also confused. "Stanley told me that you wanted to go back home, did you not?" He asked. While he asked McGucket the question, Bill reached over Ford and extended his arm as far as he could reach, just barely grabbing hold of Fiddleford's car door handle. He put force into it, the pain in his arm stinging slightly at the massive stretch, and Fiddleford's car door opened as much as it could possibly go.

"I never said I wanted to go home." Fiddleford told Ford, both of them confused.

"You didn't?" Bill asked, acting as if he was concerned. When Bill gave that comment, Fiddleford instantly realized that it was Bill who had set this all up.

"N-no.., I didn't." Fiddleford stated, turning around and narrowing his eyes at Bill. Ford noticed the look on Fidds face and looked at Bill with an eyebrow raised. Bill looked back at Ford and just shrugged innocently. Stanley reached over and unbuckled Fiddleford's seatbelt, unbuckling his own as well.

McGucket shook his head, still confused. "I thought I was goin' back to the Mystery Shack with the rest of ye'-"

Fiddleford continued but was stopped when Stanley leaned against his car door, grabbing onto the wheel for support and, quite literally, kicked Fiddleford out of the car with both his feet, pushing him out of the car and exclaiming, "Nope!" with a wide grin.

Fiddleford hit the ground and rubbed his head, groaning slightly. Stan leaned over to look at Fiddleford, making sure he didn't 'break the old guy's hip'.

Ford's eyes shot open and he looked over at McGucket. "Dammit, Stanley!" He exclaimed, smacking Stan at the back of his head. "Are you okay, Fiddlefo-?" He tried, but was stopped when Stan grinned over at Fiddleford.

"See ya'!" Stanley exclaimed, grabbing the passenger seat door and slamming it. He adjusted his hat and buckled his seatbelt before pulling out of the driveway. When Fiddleford stood up, he had a clear view of Bill looking at him with a smirk, waving slowly and mockingly. He responded to the gesture with a glare as McGucket clenched his fists.

"Yeesh," Stan began as they drove down the mountain. "That was one hell of a stunt, huh? Coulda' broken somethin', or pulled...what were they called? Hamperings?"

"Gotta admit, fez. That was pretty badass!" Bill praised with a nod of his head.

Ford was glaring down at the ground, clearly enraged. "Seriously?" He exclaimed, looking at Bill with a glare.

Bill tilted his head, confused. "Seriously.., what?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're going to praise this behavior?" Ford asked Bill. He then looked at his brother. "You could have badly injured him, Stanley!" He exclaimed, still glaring.

"Hey, don't go yellin' at me, pointdexter!" Stan shot back. "You're the one who's been wastin' all your time with him! It's getting annoying losing every game of poker to Bill." He stated.

"Yeah," Bill agreed. "I really need some better competition." He noted aloud to himself. Stanley glared after hearing the comment, but decided not to say anything about it since Bill was proceeding to speak. "Have we gotten too boring for you, Sixer?" He asked.

"No!" Ford exclaimed. "Fiddleford and I have really needed this time to catch up. I'll admit, I didn't may as much attention to how much time went by. I'm sorry." He said, truth in his voice.

Stan hummed for a moment. "Yeah, time flies when you're canoodlin' with your ex." He stated. He snickered to himself silently. "Oh boy, I should really start sayin' that word more often. Canoodling, hah!"

"Please don't." Bill muttered, anamused.

"It's very displeasing." Ford agreed, shaking his head.

"Seriously though," Stan continued. "Are you and Fidds back together? I mean, the two of ya' really seem to admire each other-"

"Stop!" Bill and Ford exclaimed in unison. The two men looked at each other for a split second. Bill grunted and folded his arms, looking out his window and avoiding eye contact with Stanford. Ford exhaled silently and looked out his window with a small frown on his face.

Oh my gosh, I think this is the longest chapter I've ever written. 12k words in ONE chapter? I feel like that might be a little extreme, and I'm so sorry if the length was bothersome. I had a LOT that I needed to cram into this chapter in order for the next chapter to play out how I've planned. Again, I apologize if the word count of this chapter was annoying.

I had to rewrite the very end of this chapter so many times... there was this weird thing going on with the website and it wouldn't let me log out, log in, save my work, anything like that. So anything past Stan saying how 'losing every poker game to Bill was getting annoying' I had to rewrite about ten times. It was worth it, though! I'm just glad to have finished the chapter.

What do you think Fiddleford will think of Stanley literally kicking him out of the car and ditching him like that? I suppose you'll just have to wait and see :3