I do not own Gravity Falls.

Cooking with Ford

"Oof!"

The startled yelp, followed by the sound of metal clattering against the tiled floor of the kitchen, compelled Ford to set the book he'd been reading aside. With Stan and Dipper currently in town, that left only one culprit for the cringing metallic racket.

"Mabel?" he called, standing up and glancing in the direction of the kitchen with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Fine!" she responded. "Just made a bit of a mess! But I'll clean it up, don't worry."

Not entirely settled by her reassurance, Ford went to investigate. He paused in the kitchen doorway and stared at his niece, who was gathering the fallen pots into her arms. An overturned stool and an open cupboard door told him all he needed to know.

Her little arms holding as many pots as she could carry, Mabel straightened up and noticed her great-uncle watching her. "Sorry," she said with a sheepish smile. "I was getting a pot and I lost my balance."

"I can see that," said Ford, surveying her intently for any bumps or bruises. When he was satisfied that she wasn't injured, he added curiously, "What on Earth are you doing?"

"I was gonna make some spaghetti," she said cheerfully. "My tummy is a-hollerin' for some spaghetti."

Ford glanced over at the counter, where the necessary ingredients to make spaghetti were neatly arranged on the surface. He returned his gaze to the twelve-year-old girl and said pointedly, "I don't recall you asking if you could use the stove."

"I was just about to," chirped Mabel, peeking over her pile of pots with innocent, hopeful eyes. "I was just getting everything ready and then I was gonna ask if you wanted to help me."

Ford crossed his arms, eyebrow arched. "Oh really? Why didn't you ask before you set everything up? I might have said no."

Mabel grinned triumphantly. "You said 'might'! That's past tense! That means you will help!"

Ford could not help but chuckle. "Perceptive." Noticing the girl was wobbling slightly under her heavy burden, he walked over and relieved her of the pots. "I must say, spaghetti does sound good. I can't remember the last time I had it."

"We'll have to fix that," said Mabel determinedly. She paused and glanced down at the floor with a speculative expression. "Um, we better wash one of the pots. I dunno when Grunkle Stan last cleaned."

"I shudder to think how much dust, dirt and germs have built up over the years," said Ford with a shiver. He dumped the pots into the sink and selected one to wash. When he was certain it was squeaky clean, he filled it with water and set it on the stovetop. He cranked the flame to the highest setting so that the water would boil quicker. "I'm afraid I'm not a man of culinary skills, so you will be leading this expedition."

Puffing out her chest, Mabel declared, "We'll make the greatest spaghetti ever."

Her enthusiasm infectious, Ford smiled and ruffled her hair affectionately. "We'll give it our best shot."

"We didn't have any meat, but there were some leftover vegetables in there," she continued. A crease of concern appeared on her brow. "Is vegetable sauce gonna be okay? I know Grunkle Stan likes his meat."

"He'll simply have to deal with it," said Ford, lightly smoothing the wrinkle off her forehead and causing her to giggle. "But I really don't think he'll mind. Especially if it's something you made. I'll start chopping the celery."

"I can cut the carrot!"

"Be careful," he cautioned.

Mabel washed a few carrots and brought them over to the counter. Under Ford's watchful eyes she sliced the carrots into small, thin pieces. When the vegetables were cut, they put them in a pan with olive oil and minced garlic.

As Ford stirred the mixture around, Mabel said, "I'll put the noodles in the pot."

She reached for the bag of noodles. In an ungraceful manner she dumped them into the pot of boiling water and a few drops of the scalding liquid splashed up onto her hand. "Ouch!"

Snapping his attention towards his niece, whose face was pinched with pain, Ford asked urgently, "What happened?"

"Burned myself," she muttered, flinching at the ache in her hand. She gingerly held it out. "It stings, that's all."

"Let's take care of that." Lifting her into his arms, he swept her over to the sink and cranked the tap to the coldest setting. Mabel dutifully stuck it under the frigid stream and let out a sigh of relief.

"Much better. Thanks, Grunkle Ford." She glanced at him with a sheepish expression. "Sorry. I should have been more careful."

"Accidents happen, especially in the kitchen. You needn't apologize." Mabel removed her hand after a few minutes and Ford set her down before turning off the water. "How does it feel?"

"It's good," assured Mabel. "I'll let you take care of the spaghetti. I think the pot is mad at me because I dropped it."

"Sounds good to me," said Ford with a laugh. "Why don't you open the cans of tomato sauce?"

"Roger!"

Soon the cans of sauce were open and she brought them over to Ford, who was stirring the spaghetti noodles. He poured the sauce into the pan with the cooked vegetables and mixed it all together before leaving it to simmer.

Pop!

Mabel clapped her hands over her mouth as a bubble of tomato sauce burst, splotches of red liquid splattering onto Ford's face. It was thankfully not hot and Ford only cried out in surprise, not pain.

"Wonderful," he muttered, removing his glasses and wiping them clean with the hem of his sweater. He noticed Mabel struggling not to laugh out loud and he gave her a mock glare. "Think that's funny, do you?"

Before she could respond, another bubble of tomato sauce rose up and burst, as if on cue, and coated the front of the girl's sweater. The two stared at it for a moment before breaking into laughter.

"I think we better get a lid over that," giggled Mabel, going to retrieve the top that matched the pan.

"Before we end up with more sauce on us than the spaghetti," joked Ford.

A few minutes later, the spaghetti was finished and the sauce was simmering safely with the lid firmly in place. Mabel set her hands on her hips and smiled proudly. "It smells so good."

"I think we've accomplished our goal, dear." Ford combed his fingers through his niece's long brunette hair and he said in amusement, "You've got some tomato sauce in your hair."

"Aw, nuts." Scrunching up her nose, Mabel felt the chunk of sauce clinging to her brunette locks. She looked up at Ford and grinned. "You've got some in your hair too."

"Guess the kitchen isn't the only thing that needs cleaning up," he returned, turning off the heat on the stove. "We'll let the sauce simmer a bit more when we've finished washing up."

"Thanks for cooking with me, Grunkle Ford."

Ford turned to see his niece looking at him with brilliant smile. Warmth flooded his expression and he said tenderly, "Anytime, dear. Though I can't say we'll always get such good results. Come. Let's get this gunk out of our hair."

He extended his hand and Mabel happily linked up with him.

Spaghetti and Grunkle Ford all to myself. Best day ever!