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"Ford, it's nice to have you out of your cave and all," you told him, "but when I suggested you and I spend some time together, I wasn't exactly hoping you'd blindfold me and drag me through the forest."
Ford helped you over a log as he let out an uncharacteristic laugh. He'd been acting so strange lately, shutting himself in his lab to 'meditate'? Ford had never meditated in his life and now did it religiously. He was sleeping and eating less and less, paying even less attention to you. Why wouldn't he involve or even explain this new endeavor to his research partner?
Just a few weeks ago he'd been so frustrated with the lack of answers when it came to the nature of the anomalies here in Gravity Falls. Then a few days ago he decided the answer was to build a portal, to... somewhere— he wouldn't really explain. When you asked about it, he simply asked you if you trusted him.
You did. You trusted Ford with your life. After all, he had been your boyfriend and research partner for four years now. Having said that, once the planning for this... portal began, he acted less and less like himself. Whoever had asked you to put on this blindfold— whoever was leading you through the forest by the shoulders, not caring if you stepped on rocks or roots that made you lose balance and come dangerously close to falling— whoever this was... it wasn't Ford.
Randomly this afternoon he'd appeared in the kitchen, suddenly acting eerily close to his old self, but it wasn't quite right— like he was pretending to be Ford. He proposed you take a walk with him— blindfolded. You decided to play along as best you could, afraid if that really wasn't Ford, that whoever this was could hurt the real Ford somehow.
In the present, after nearly face-planting one last time, Ford lazily steadying you with an annoyed air, he halted the both of you. The cloth around your eyes was removed, and you held in your sigh of relief. After your eyes adjusted to the soft light of the beginning of dusk, you found he'd brought you to the scenic cliff looking over the town. Before you laid a picnic blanket, complete with a picnic basket.
For a second you forgot how strange Ford was acting, your heart feeling full at the beautiful gesture.
"Whaddaya think, toots?" Ford gave a grin as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
"Toots, huh?" You let out before you remembered your mission to play along. You leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "it's lovely, Stanford."
His grin becomes unnaturally wide as he pulled you too roughly to sit with him on the checkered blanket. As he began to pull some things out of the basket your mind wandered again. When did he pack all this and put it out here for the two of you?
Ford placed the items on the cloth, and as you noticed each one it became apparent that there was no way real Ford didn't pack this basket. He had some of your favorite foods, some that were quite hard to get in this small town. The basket was packed with the efficiency you had never seen in anyone but your boyfriend, an efficiency this not-Ford didn't seem to possess either from what you'd seen. The cherry on top was the undeniable fact that everything about this 'date' (minus the blindfold and the rocky trip to the cliff) was the same as you and Ford's very first date.
As you'd come to these realizations, you also realized that not-Ford has asked you a question.
"Huh?"
"You shouldn't think so much," he scolded. "Just enjoy this time together."
You feigned a sigh, "you're right, dear. I'm sorry."
He handed you a soda, cracking open his own.
You unwrapped a sandwich, taking a cautious bite before hearing an odd gurgling from the man across from you. By the time you looked up, Ford had put the can back on the blanket quickly, as if trying to play the noise off.
"Uh, Ford?" You gave him a look.
"Hm?" He looked up, innocently.
"You.. you have soda in your eyelashes."
"Oh, silly me," he rubbed his eyes, "did I get it?"
You gave a giggle that you didn't really have to fake. However alarming, it was indeed silly. You grabbed a cloth napkin and began to wipe the rest from the sides of his hair. It was like he'd just leaned his head back to let gravity do its job— except he'd aimed for his eyeballs. You slipped his glasses off and cleaned them with a clean corner of the rag. His hand suddenly went into your hair. You fought a flinch and put his glasses back on him.
"Here's a fun game," he said, stroking your hair. "Can you guess how many hairs you have on your head?"
You schooled your face into one of contemplation, rather than utter confusion. Thank the stars you'd taken those improv classes in college. "Let's see," your hands joined his in your hair. "80,00'' you decided.
"Not bad, toots. Smarter than you look," he winked. You clenched your hands so you wouldn't slap him. "It's actually 97,583."
You hummed. You didn't really have any reason to doubt that was right. "What about your hair?" You carded your fingers through his thick, curly hair.
It made him shiver, it always did, "damn body spasms," he mumbled. Okay, that's a pretty weird thing to say. "130,931," he told you.
"Cool," you said simply, before continuing to eat your sandwich.
He had more fun 'trivia' as you continued eating. Telling you the exact rate at which your skin cells were replacing themselves, which of the trees around you was the oldest, how much blood you had in your body— to the ounce, the exact height of the cliff you two were sitting on, and the rate at which a human your size would fall if thrown off...
"Ah, you're finally done with your food," he rubbed his hands together. He stood, then seemed to realize something, "ugh, gotta take a leak, toots." Is he even trying to sound like Ford anymore? "Don't go anywhere!" With that, he ran into the woods.
Once he was out of sight, you felt a strange feeling. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, and you swore you felt a tap on your shoulder.
It was like... a ghost.
You had an idea. Pulling a small notebook from your pocket, you penned an alphabet and numbers on it, a yes and no in the top corners, a goodbye at the bottom. Quickly, you pulled off a stray ring you were wearing, putting it on the notebook and keeping a finger barely touching it. You checked once more that not-Ford was still gone, before whispering, "who's there?"
You weren't surprised as the ring began to move, "F-O-R-D"
"Prove it," you whispered, hopeful, but not wanting to get tricked.
You felt the tap again, this time it felt like six fingers drumming in a row like he did when thinking.
"Fair enough."
"D-O-N-T T-R-U-S-T" it spelled. "K-N-O-C-K H-I-M D-O-W-N"
"Okay," you whispered. Footsteps were approaching, you quickly picked up the pen and notebook, flipping to a sketch you'd been working on this morning. You continued your drawing of Gnomes stacking on top of each other to root through your trash as definitely-not-Ford leaned down to watch for a second. "Welcome back," you smiled sweetly to him.
He gave an off-sounding laugh and grabbed the small radio that had been packed, and turned it on. His timing was spooky because the last song ended to start playing another as you were pulled to your feet. He began to dance with you, swaying back and forth as you orbited around the blanket.
"So," he began. "You know how we've been working on that portal?"
"Well, sort of," you shrugged. "You've been very secretive about it."
He hummed, twirling you before bringing you close again. "Well, if you do me a small favor I'm sure I could give you some insight."
"A small favor?" You echoed.
"Well, the ol' grant money is getting a little thin," he hinted.
"Whoa whoa whoa," you tried to pull back to look at him, but a strong hand on your back kept you close. "I'm not dipping into my parents' account for your portal."
"They told you that account was for you."
Your parents were rather wealthy, and had put some money aside for you, yes but— "Ford, that money is for us, our future."
"This portal is our future— it'll change the world," he gripped you tightly.
"Honey, they meant for something like a wedding someday," you knew you shouldn't piss whoever this was off, but you're not about to pay for whatever bullshit he had in mind.
"A wedding," he repeated like it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "You really think Sixer wants to marry you?" He growled, completely breaking character now. "You really think you'll be happy being married to this freak? He's gonna spend all his time working on this portal for me, not like he'd put you above his 'greatest achievement'." He continued to sway with you, and you noticed he was taking you closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. "Once it's done, it'll change the world. Your little boyfriend will be famous, he'll rule the world with the best— you really think he'll still want to go out with you then?"
You let your guard down as you let his words sink in. But you shook it off, invisible fingers on your shoulder reminding you of who Ford really was, how much he really cared for you. "You don't know what you're talking about," you said firmly. "I'm not giving you that money."
He hummed, "'s a shame. I really didn't want to go for plan B."
"Plan B?" You echoed, a little worried.
He twirled you once more, your feet on the edge of the cliff, throwing you off balance as he lets you go enough to scare the ever-loving shit out of you as you start to actually fall. At the last second, he grips your upper arm and pulls you up enough to have your toes on the edge of the cliff. He looms over you as he grins too wide, "you do have a rather large life insurance policy," he sneered.
Your eyes widened. He was right. Your mother worried about you working in the woods and insisted there be something in place. Being a young and healthy person would yield a good deal of money if something were to happen. "F-Ford wouldn't get that money, Ma and my siblings would."
The grin, if possible, grew wider, "that's the thing, dearest. You see, since ol' Sixer is a misguided fool, and he was about to propose," what? "He called your pops to get his blessing. The paperwork's changed."
"Isn't that fraud?"
"Not if there's no foul play," he said in a sing-song voice, "or any evidence of it, rather." As he spoke you slowly shifted your feet. "Fordsie would never hurt you, so that's how he'll act when you've fallen off the cliff. Clumsy you. He'll get off scot-free, and with enough Capitol to fund ten portals!"
"So you're gonna throw Ford's partner off a cliff, and he's still gonna work with you?" You raised a bored eyebrow, masking the white-hot panic coursing through you. Stalling just enough, finally, you've gained footing without him noticing. "Do you have a blood-pact or something?"
He looked like he genuinely hadn't thought of that, then schooled his features and shrugged, "I'm quite convincing."
"Alright, I've had enough," carefully but swiftly, you distributed your weight to crouch without falling to certain doom, before vaulting into his chest.
Landing hard on his back, surely you knocked the wind out of him, you land on top of him, your head on his chest. You lift your head to find him... vacant. He looks passed out, but he's breathing. You're checking for a pulse when he begins to wheeze and cough. He reaches up, patting his chest and face, before looking at you, "ohmigosh," he pulls you in for the tightest hug of your life.
"Ford?" You ask.
"Yes," he confirms, voice muffled in your hair. "I was so worried about you."
"I thought I was gonna die," you laugh without humor.
"Fuck," he breathed, keeping you so close.
"Shit," you returned, unsure of what exactly to say. He pulls back and presses a loving kiss on your mouth, and you know this is definitely Ford. Once you separate, you lean your foreheads together, as if it'll help gather your thoughts. "I have several questions," you say finally.
He sits up, rubbing the back of his neck. "I um... never wanted you to meet Bill."
"Seems like a being that can move in and out of your body seems like something I should know about."
He looked extremely guilty, "I-I'm so sorry, my dear. I promise I'll explain everything," he helped you to your feet. "Sorry he ruined the surprise," he added.