Danny was pretty sure that Dipper was avoiding him throughout the rest of the day, but he couldn't be certain. After all, their paths didn't cross often, and the only class they had together was gym. He did recall, though, that Mabel had mentioned that she and Danny had the same lunch break today, and he looked for her in the cafeteria and was unable to find her. He would have expect her to wave to him like she had at breakfast yesterday.

It wasn't as though he had been planning to sit with her or anything, of course. He plunked his tray down across from Sam and Tucker at their usual table, and the two of them looked at him expectantly.

"So," Tucker said the moment Danny's tray touched the surface of the table. "You gonna tell me what was going on with you at the end of gym class?"

"He knows," Danny answered. No hesitation, no emotion in his voice. Just a simple statement of fact.

Sam and Tucker sat stunned for a moment, staring at him, probably waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn't, Sam asked, "Who knows?"

"Who do you think?"

"And how did you find – "

"Read his journal. Turns out that's what he was hiding, not the weapons. Didn't want me to know that he's a crazy creepy stalker."

Tucker let out a slow breath. "So… he knows everything? He knows you're a half-ghost?"

Danny shook his head. "Not quite. But he knows enough. Noticed all those little details, figured out there was a connection between me and Phantom. He's got all the puzzle pieces, now it's just a matter of time before he puts them together in the right order."

A tense silence took over the table for a moment, eventually broken by Sam drumming her fingers against the table, deep in thought. "Okay," she said. "Okay, so – so this is bad."

"Oh, is it?" Danny said. "Thanks for pointing that out, I wouldn't have even noticed on my own."

Sam didn't react to the sarcasm, not even giving him the courtesy of an eye roll. Instead she continued as if Danny hadn't said anything. "But as for how bad… well, that probably depends on whether Dipper's been sharing."

"I don't think he's told anyone at school," Tucker said. "I mean, if there were a rumor going around about Danny being, what, attached to Phantom or something, we probably would have heard it, right?"

"It wasn't our classmates I was thinking of. Right now the important question is: does Stanford know?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Danny answered. "He hasn't been acting weird toward me or anything. Then again, not like I know anything about his poker face. He could just be biding his time until he's figured it out for sure."

"Maybe Dipper's doing the same thing," Tucker said. "Waiting until he has Danny figured out before he goes to the presses."

"Well," Danny said, picking up his chicken patty sandwich and starting to unwrap it, "Guess I won't know for sure until I find Dipper and ask him, huh?"

Sam frowned at him. "Danny, I know you're upset, but don't do anything rash, okay?"

Danny paused, his sandwich poised at the ready to take a bite but forgotten now as he stared at Sam, affronted. "What's that supposed to mean? What did you think I was going to do?"

"Nothing, it's just – "

"I mean, what, did you think I was gonna try and beat him up or something? Start hurling ectoblasts at the kid until he tells me what he knows? That's never exactly been my style."

"Danny, stop, I didn't mean anything by it," Sam snapped. "It's just, we've never really dealt with this before, someone we know next to nothing about showing up and uncovering all of the – you know. Your stuff. I only want to make sure you'll keep a cool head."

Danny sighed and held up his right hand. "I solemnly swear. All I plan to do is talk, see if he's done anything with his info. And if he hasn't, make sure he doesn't start making any plans to."

"And if you're too late?" Tucker asked. "If he's already sicced his uncle on you?"

"Then I'll do something rash."

Danny didn't have much on his mind the rest of the day besides Dipper and his goddamned notebook. And he could never keep his attention focused during class on a good day. The minutes seemed to be dragging by as if meandering through a dense sludge, and by the time the final bell rang, Danny felt like he had sat through a month's worth of classes. A part of him wondered if Clockwork was somehow interfering, trying to delay the moment when Danny could confront Dipper about that research, but he couldn't imagine what motivation the ghost could possibly have for doing such a thing.

The Pines twins didn't join him and Jazz in the parking lot after school that day, which only meant another frustration for Danny, since now he'd have to actually track them down. He bounced his leg anxiously against the passenger side door all the way home, and he noticed Jazz glancing at it a couple of times along the way, but she didn't say anything. It must have been obvious how tense Danny was.

The car had barely stopped in the driveway before Danny had thrown his door open and darted into the house, making a beeline for the lab. Just as expected, there were his parents and Stanford. Today they seemed to be focusing more on lab reports than actual experimentation, since the lab tables were strewn with papers and none of them were wearing goggles or gloves.

Maddie was the first to notice Danny, and she cast him a smile and a wave. "How was school, Danny?" she asked.

"Fine," Danny answered. "Hi, Ford."

Ford looked up from a paper, eyes quizzical, apparently surprised at having been addressed specifically, but he replied with a nod, "Afternoon, Danny."

"Here researching again? Find anything interesting?"

"Well, this whole field is interesting. But we haven't made any dramatic breakthroughs while you were at school, if that's what you're asking."

"Nothing, huh? You sure?"

"No, I'm pretty sure I would know if I've made some grand discovery."

"Has Dipper been helping you with your research at all? He got any theories you're testing?"

"Dipper and Mabel are busy with their own schoolwork." His brow wrinkled. "Why do you ask?"

Danny scanned Ford's face and stance. Granted, he wasn't exactly an expert at detecting when a person was hiding something, but Ford's confusion at his question sure seemed to be genuine. And Danny was pretty sure that Ford would know what he was getting at if Dipper had let him in on his findings. His leaden stomach unclenched a bit in relief, but not all the way – he still wasn't in the clear. "No reason," he answered with a shrug. "Just curious. Hey, speaking of Dipper, his he going to be here at all today?"

Ford shook his head. "No, I think he and Mabel were just planning on staying home this evening."

"Are you positive? 'Cause, I kinda need to see Dipper."

"Yes, I'm positive. Is there something urgent you needed him for?"

"Well, uh, sort of. See, I've got… I've got a project coming up in, um, in World History. On, uh, Sumerians or something. And Dipper mentioned that he'd done a – a paper on them, last year. He was gonna let me have a look."

"I could give you his phone number, if you'd like. You two could talk over it that way."

"Actually, I'd really rather do it in person."

"When's your project due, Danny?" Maddie asked.

"Um, next week?"

"Well then, you could ask Dipper to come over tomorrow. Or this weekend. In the meantime, I'm sure Jazz would be happy to help you with your research."

Danny had to bite his tongue to keep himself from grinding his teeth in frustration. "I'm just trying to get an early jump on it. And I really would like Dipper's help. He, ah, he seems like he's pretty good at this – this stuff."

Ford chuckled. "Well, he'll be flattered to hear that. Tell you what, I could give my brother a call, see if he wouldn't mind driving Dipper over here if he has time."

"Oh, I'd hate to put him out like that," Maddie said, frowning.

"Okay, how about I go to your place?" Danny suggested.

"Do you drive?" Ford asked. "It's a ways away, wouldn't want you walking."

"Jazz can drive me."

"Jazz can what now?" Jazz called from the kitchen.

Danny turned and yelled over his shoulder, "Jazz, can you drive me over to Ford's house?"

There was a pause, followed by a sigh and Jazz answering, "Sure, fine. When?"

"Right now." He turned back to Ford. "If that's all right?"

Ford nodded. "Yes, it's fine. I'll write down the address for you."

Not two minutes later Danny and Jazz were back in her car, buckled in for the ride. Jazz put the address into her phone for the route and turned the keys in the ignition. The engine and air conditioning both sputtered to life, but Jazz didn't make any move to take the wheel. Instead, she turned to stare expectantly at Danny, letting the car idle in the driveway.

"Um," Danny said, "The gas pedal's the one on the right."

"Are you planning on telling me why you suddenly need to go to Ford's house?"

"It's nothing, I just need to talk to Dipper."

"It's not nothing. I can understand being suspicious about Ford, given his profession and all, but why Dipper? Did something happen?"

"… Sort of."

"Was it the same thing that was bothering you yesterday morning?"

"No, that was something else."

Jazz folded her arms and sat back in her chair. "I'm listening."

Danny sighed and sank down into his own chair. Well, the sooner he broke the news to Jazz, the sooner she'd start driving. "I got a glimpse at Dipper's notes. Yeah, apparently he's been keeping a close eye on me ever since he showed up in town. And he's figured it out, Jazz. Not all the way, not yet, but he knows about my connection to Phantom and he's noticed everything he needs to put it all together. It's probably only a matter of time. And you just know that when he does, first thing he'll do is blab to Ford. Do you know what Ford's doing down in that lab with our parents? He's working on a way to kill ghosts. Not capture them, not study them, kill them. So basically, I've got to convince Dipper to keep his mouth shut, or else Ford will find a prime candidate for testing whatever it is he came up with. So, there you go. You gonna drive me now?"

Jazz's eyes were wide, and Danny knew she probably was ready to burst with questions, wanting to know every single tiny detail of anything he'd said and anything he'd left out. Fortunately, though, Jazz had been getting better as of late at knowing when to save the drilling for later, and that was the best option here. She gave him a small nod and turned toward the front, taking the steering wheel in one hand and shifting into reverse with the other.

Danny played navigator on the ride over, reading the directions aloud from Jazz's phone. It turned out the address was just in the next neighborhood over, one of the many nearly-identical houses on a street that exclusively hosted rental homes. Half of the yards had 'For Lease' signs sticking up out of the grass by the curb. The house with the number matching the address Ford had given them had just a few signs of being lived in – a mud-spattered sedan in the driveway, a line of pastel-colored pinwheels poking out of the ground that lined the front walk (Mabel's doing, Danny suspected), and a sagging mustard-yellow sofa on the porch, patched in multiple spots with silver duct tape.

As they pulled onto the curb, Danny gripped the handle of his door, ready to leap out when Jazz dropped him off, but she surprised him by shifting into park and turning the keys to kill the engine. "What are you doing?"

Jazz sent Danny a bewildered look before reaching into the backseat to grab her purse. "Did you expect me to leave the engine running the whole time we were in there?"

"I expected you to leave."

"Well, nothing doing. You're not exactly great at handling confrontation that doesn't involve ectoplasm being shot everywhere. You could use a moderator."

"Jazz – "

"Don't argue." She slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder and pushed her door open. "Besides, I'm going to want to be in the loop about all this; this way you won't have to waste time telling me what happened later."

Danny sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Fine. Fine. But don't try taking over the conversation or, like, redirecting me or any of that psychologist crap."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Jazz replied, rolling her eyes and stepping out of the car.

There didn't seem to be any point in objecting further, so Danny relented and exited the car as well, then marched toward the house, Jazz trailing behind him. He rapped sharply on the door, and almost immediately after his fist hit the door, there was a low scratching at the other side. The door was flanked by narrow two frosted-glass windows, and through one of them Danny could see a shape that looked to be a remarkably fat dog. Which would explain the scratching. He waited at the door for a bit, ignoring the scratching and snuffling of the dog, and, just when he was ready to try knocking again, the knob turned and the door opened with a loud squeak.

"Yeah?" the man who opened the door said gruffly by way of greeting.

For a moment, Danny stood frozen in front of the open doorway, fist still clenched in preparation of knocking. The sight before him was unexpected, to say the least. For one thing, the creature that he had assumed was an obese dog turned out to be a pig – a big, pink, round-bellied pig who took the opportunity to press its nose against Danny's shoe and begin sniffing and snorting. For another, the man who opened the door was strikingly familiar. He didn't look as dignified as usual, in slippers, boxer shorts, a white undershirt, and – of all things – a tasseled fez on his head, but it had to be –

"Ford?"

The man – Ford? Not Ford? Ford's clone? – laughed, a throaty, half-cough noise that didn't sound like Ford at all. "Close, kid, but no cigar," he said. "You're thinkin' of my brother. He's out workin' right now. Try again later."

His brother. Oh, so this would be Stanley. Ford hadn't said anything about him and his brother being twins, but from looking at Stanley now, it was either that, or the most uncanny non-twin sibling resemblance Danny had ever seen.

"Uh, no, I actually, um – " Somehow he had lost his words after seeing double like that, and the fact that the pig had begun chewing on his shoelaces wasn't helping him refocus.

"We're actually looking for Dipper and Mabel," Jazz said from over his shoulder. Huh. Apparently it was good to have her along after all, if Danny was going to be getting tongue-tied. "I'm Jazz Fenton, this is Danny. Our parents are working with your brother. You're Stanley, right?"

"Bingo," Stanley said. "Yeah, Ford did mention the Fentons had kids. Hey, kids!" he shouted, turning toward a nearby staircase that led up to landing housing three doors, all closed tight. "You got company!"

One of the doors at the top of the stairs opened a crack, just wide enough for Danny to get a glimpse of Dipper's face peering through it before the boy's eyes went wide and the door swung shut again. A moment passed, and the door reopened, but this time it was Mabel who emerged and came bounding down the stairs. "Danny! Jazz!" she said, her voice a note higher-pitched than usual. "Didn't expect you two here!"

"Dip comin' down?" Stanley asked.

"Oh, no, he's – he's just finishing some homework, really in the zone right now."

Well, Dipper may not have shared his findings with Ford, but it seemed pretty clear that he had done so with Mabel. Her new vocal tone and her fidgeting stance made it plain to see that she knew exactly why Danny had come over here today.

But, for Stanley's benefit, he kept his composure even. "That's actually what I came over here for. Needed some homework help from him. Jazz drove."

"Well, uh, are you sure no one else can help you? I'm kinda claiming him as my study partner for the night."

"I won't take long," Danny said. "I could just go upstairs now, if that's all right?"

Mabel bit her lip apprehensively. Stanley, seeming to notice the tension, glanced back and forth between Mabel and Danny. "Somethin' the matter?" he asked. He turned to narrow his eyes at Danny. "You ain't been doin' somethin' to scare my nephew, have you?"

"No, no, it's fine, Grunkle Stan," Mabel cut in. (Danny decided not to comment on the odd honorific; at this point, little oddities seemed perfectly par for the course in the Pines family.) "I can – I can take them upstairs. You were going to go get dinner started, right?"

"Yeah, I was," Stan grunted. "Guess I can't count on you to help with that now, right? Ah, well." He turned to leave, moving past the staircase toward what was presumably the kitchen. "Call me if you need anythin', got it?"

"Sure thing, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel called with a quick wave. She turned back to Danny and Jazz. "We, um, we usually have dinner kinda early here, see. It's 'cause Stan and Ford are old. Apparently that's a thing, you know, old people, gotta have their early bird dinner." She cleared her throat. "Uh, I see you've met Waddles." She nodded toward the pig. "He's a real sweetie. Like the world's heaviest stuffed animal, Waddles is."

"Mabel," Danny interrupted. "You were gonna take us upstairs."

"Oh. Right. I was." She glanced uncertainly toward Jazz for help, and when she received one, she continued, "Although, I mean, we could hang out downstairs for a bit, or we could – "

"I'm really gonna need that homework help at some point. Might as well get it over with now, right?"

Mabel's eyes were darting rapidly around, to Danny, to Jazz, toward the kitchen, as if she were looking for an escape route, but she still seemed to see the logic in Danny's words. "You're coming with?" she asked Jazz, who nodded. Mabel sighed. "All right. Well." She turned around, starting up the stairs and motioning for Danny and Jazz to follow. "Let's get this over with."

I know, I know, it's been a long gap between chapters. Fortunately, the next wait will be much shorter, since I already have half of Chapter 15 written - I had originally been writing it as part of this chapter before I decided to split the chapter in two. Just to mess with you guys. However, I hope the Waddles cameo makes up for it.