Gravity Falls: If I Can See You Smile A Gravity Falls/Owl House Shared Universe Story Universe: Post-canon Gravity Falls, Swooning Over Stans, pre-time skip Owl House series finale Inspirations: Swooning Over Stans Dating Sim, Sailor Moon, Attack of the Clones, the ballets of Tchaikovsky, The Owl House and Gravity Falls, Gaelic and Greek mythology and folklore Pairings: Ford Pines/Elizabeth Connor (OC), Dipper/Pacifica, Eda/Raine, others TBD Rating T: implied peril, “boy’s club” mentality in government positions, snogging, childbirth, trauma Reworked lyrics of “Once Upon A December” written by the author Chapter 1: I Hold My Hand in Yours (Silver Millenium- Sailor Moon DIC soundtrack) Fairfax, Virginia- July 2011 The drive down from Fort Belvoir back to Falls Church was always depressing, In Elizabeth Connor’s opinion. She had made the commute more times than she cared to count, the flowers sprouting from the crown of her head starting to itch. Her bright eyes gazed out onto the darkened interstate; an 18-wheeler would come barreling down at some ungodly speed. Her car lurched unsteadily as a downdraft buffeted it around the middle lane, leading to cranking the steering wheel just to stay steady. It was about 2 in the morning, a bone moon hanging in the black sky. Elizabeth let out a sigh, this was her life. Driving into forts at odd hours for mind-numbing research into whatever her “minders” ordered her to do. All she could claim that belonged to her was her name, her bank accounts, and her car, a 2010 Kia Forte that was an ugly shade of orange. Has my life always been this regimented, she mused thoughtfully as her car lurched unsteadily down the ramp splitting 395 from 95 North towards Washington DC. For someone who turned 27 a scant three months earlier, she felt she had lived much longer than that. It was whispered at work that she was some sort of anomaly, and this grieved her heart something fierce. She was not an anomaly… she was just lost. Elizabeth had been found wandering around Fort Mead Park in Alexandria at the age of five, sunflowers growing wildly from her head, barefoot and wailing for a mother who was dead. Where she came from, she could not explain except that she came from the Boiling Isles, wherever those were. The first responders were concerned with the cobalt blue tribal tattoos covering her body, the ancient notebook written in Gaelic and Greek, detailing runic magic, the precursor to Wild Magic. She had used the lux trifecta spell to make them go away, but this led to the FBI being called in. Senior FBI Field Agent Francis Tucker had been called in, as anything reeking of supernatural/pseudoscience in origin was a threat to American Way of Life, and he had stopped short when he saw the little girl happily dancing to some unheard music, flowers and other plants bursting forth under her bare feet. What in God’s good name was this power? One of the agents asked him, “What are we going to do, sir? She’s just a little girl.” Tucker frowned, she needed to be assimilated. Looking for a pay phone, he phoned the Virginia Department of Human and Social Services, looking for a foster home where they could stash her way and pay staff to stifle the girl’s oddities. As she had gotten older, Elizabeth had grown into herself. She stood above 5 foot even, with glossy, black hair perpetually braided, milky skin, golden eyes and silver nails. She was quiet and withdrawn, prone to bouts of self-doubt and anxiety. She didn’t like drawing attention to herself, people would whisper and stare at her hair flowers and tats, not to mention her frequent urges to dance barefoot in the middle of the night. She had always excelled at ballet, but her caretakers had refused to take this seriously. Dancing brought her great joy, as did being outdoors. When puberty hit, she grew into her beauty, making her the target of vicious physical bullying. She would defend herself; her flower crown would spew pollen strong enough to induce choking, and she would land blows using her ballet training. This got her thrown into a psych ward down at St. Elizabeth’s down in DC for 6 months, along with hours long blistering interrogations about her intents. What was her mission, what was she? In tears, she would lash out, not knowing what they were talking about. Always restrained, forced to bear the painful inoculations of anti-psychotics that made her ill and listless. She would not break for them, she learned that from her mother, who’s face she could scarcely remember, not for the men claiming to represent the “best interests” of the American people, or the men with the golden bird masks who attacked her home in the middle of the night, killing all those they saw for not falling under Emperor’s Belos’s sway, refusing to go along with the ingrained Coven system. She had a spine of steel under that quiet, meek frame. There was kindness under her seemingly frail, elfin frame. She was a kind person; despite the pushback she got. At work, it was “Elizabeth, be a dear and catalog these files and while you’re at it, please serve lunch using the China in the cabinet on the fourth floor” or “Such a lovely young woman, Elizabeth! It’s a real shame nobody’s asked you out yet. Wait, you’d probably drop foxglove into the wine! It’s a joke, smile!” She would stare at her tormentors, tears threatening to well up in her eyes, and say quietly, “How dare you say that to me, you creep.” She would type up reports to report the constant harassment, but it fell on deaf ears. She should be flattered at the attention, she was told. Elizabeth, at the very least, informed her female co-workers about this, and sincerely hoped they would include her in their afterwork activities, but no invites crossed her email inbox. This also applied to the neighbors in the apartments where she lived. The wind had died down by now, and Elizabeth felt an urge to pull over, the moon was out and she felt compelled to dance. “I’m going to do it, I’m an adult,” she told herself. Making an unauthorized stop, she pulled over, turned off her car, and climbed over the guard rail. Underneath her shoes, she could feel the hard gravel and cement clumps left over from whatever construction project VDOT had completed in the last decade or so. Leaving her velvet jacket and shoes on the guard rail, she waded through weeds and rusted nails buried in sand to the middle of the wasteland. Looking up at the moon, Elizabeth allowed herself to relax, her cobalt tattoos seemed to glow as she practiced all 5 ballet positions as she had been taught. First, second, third, fourth, and fifth, and then- jete, jete, jete! Leap, twirl, leap, twirl, grand jete and plie. Finish with a curtsey, and then she lost herself in the music she heard in her head, across all of time and space, breaking dimensional walls, letting herself be seen in her long loose black skirt, the peplum blouse swaying slightly. thito, and it was not the sort of place where she should have been. It was a nightclub for the locals, and they were in the mafia, business suits and lab coats. Briefcases were out, showing off the latest weapons. It was like being in a James Bond film, but she felt her stomach rumble. Maybe she could get something to drink, only to be blocked by by a surly looking bouncer with a highlighter green mohawk. “Hey, ain’t you a hostess,” he leered. Unsure and starting to feel anxious, a rough voice cut in, “She’s with me.” A six fingered hand gently rested on her shoulder, and a handsome older gent in a lab coat and rust colored turtleneck threw some coins at the bouncer, who turned and walked away. Turning around to thank her savior, her eyes fell on an older man maybe a couple of decades older than herself. He smiled gently at her, “Are you okay?” A bright blush fell on Ford Pine’s cheeks as his mystery lady introduced herself as Elizabeth Connor, also blushing. Bright forgot-me-nots blossomed around the crown, and she blushed before turning away. “Please don’t turn away, they flatter you, my dear,” Ford encouraged her. Elizabeth smiled, and picked one. “You need a boutonniere here, all the players have them,” she whispered. They were so close, you could swear both could hear their hearts beating in their ears. Coughing and pulling back, Ford ordered her a strawberry daquiri. As they sat, they chatted about everything. Ford mentioned his studies in anomalies, and Elizabeth turned away, embarrassed. Ford sensed the shift in her attitude, and managed to catch up to her, “Wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Guess I got a little carried there, you are the most beautiful anomaly I have ever seen.” His eyes were shining with earnest honesty, and it was breaking Elizabeth’s heart he was being so open with her. Ford seemed to have his share of secrets, she could sense it. “Apology accepted,” she smiled warmly. At that moment, Ford felt himself melt. “Would…would you like to dance with me?” Offering her his hand, he led her to the dance floor, the DJ was starting up again and front announced a song neither of them had heard before. The first song was a music box melody in waltz time, and despite being a bit rusty, Ford held her gently. Never in her life had Elizabeth been treated like this, with honest to goodness affection. Ford and Liz relaxed as they swayed to the music, enjoying the moment. More couples joined them on the dance floor, and it was mainly the clientele with whatever hostess they wanted to be their date. Ford and Liz were the only civilian couple on the floor. Ford could hear Liz’s content sigh as she continued to relax in his tender embrace. As the music flowed into another song, he reflected on his love life, or spectacular lack thereof. He had dated a siren when he had been back in high school (she had been captain of the girl’s swim team), and then there was Bill Cipher. That wasn’t an actual relationship, at least in his opinion on the matter. True, he had enjoyed Bill’s flattery and companionship, but beyond a platonic relationship, it stopped there. He wasn’t at all interested in a romantic relationship with an interdimensional tortilla chip. Bill, for some reason, had felt differently. Despite it all, Ford never reciprocated his romantic feelings, and that left him bitter as all get out. With Liz in his arms, it was different. There was something in his soul that was screaming that Liz was going to be the one, but how was he going to find her again. It was about now that the dimensional walls started to fade, and as the police busted the bar, Ford pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, before placing a piece of parchment into her hands. A dense fog Ford let out a soft sigh, gingerly holding onto the forget-me-not in his hands. When Liz woke up, she could hear the sirens blaring from a police car, some officers climbing over the guard rail, holding flashlights and barking demands she leave the area at once. A blissful smile on her face, she pulled into a gas station to read the note. Three words, “Gravity Falls, Oregon.” -Atbash Code-: Gzpv nb szmw, slow rg xolhv Gsrh R dzmg gl ivnvnyvi Orpv z wivzn, hvv rg gsilfts Svok nv gl urmw blf ztzrm
Gravity Falls: If I Can See You Smile A Gravity Falls/Owl House Shared Universe Story Universe: Post-canon Gravity Falls, Swooning Over Stans, pre-time skip Owl House series finale Inspirations: Swooning Over Stans Dating Sim, Sailor Moon, Attack of the Clones, the ballets of Tchaikovsky, The Owl House and Gravity Falls, Gaelic and Greek mythology and folklore Pairings: Ford Pines/Elizabeth Connor (OC), Dipper/Pacifica, Eda/Raine, others TBD Rating T: implied peril, “boy’s club” mentality in government positions, snogging, childbirth, trauma Reworked lyrics of “Once Upon A December” written by the author Chapter 2: Ever Forward, My Beloved Fairfax, Virginia- June 2013 Two years passed since Liz and Ford danced at the nightclub, and during that time she planned her resignation from the Department of Defense as an analyst and began mapping out how she was going to get from Northern Virginia to southeastern Oregon. A cross-country trip would take the better part of week, and even if she took the highways, she had to stop for gas, reputable motels for a single woman in her late 20’s. She knew the perils her co-workers had shared about solo travel; road rage, sundown towns, and the insane about of creeps who seemed to lurk around every corner. Maybe there were too many true crime podcasts, maybe it was her own experiences, but she was not going to wait any longer. Ford was waiting for her, and he was the only one she felt could untangle her mess of a past, and she wanted to explore the unknown. That tangible lip of what human reason could not explain away via conventional science or organized religion, what was it that seemed out of her grasp? According to Gravity Fall’s official website, there were a good number of apartments with a decent rent range, and as a bonus, enough white-collar jobs that had good benefits. True, she would be taking a pay cut, but this was her happiness and her future she was considering. There was nothing but monotony and fear-based control if she stayed in Virginia. She had to go. Delivering her resignation to Agent Trigger, Tucker’s replacement, she gave a warm smile as she placed it on the desk. Trigger looked at the desk at the letter, back up at the young woman with shining eyes, and back down at the letter. “Are you sure this is what you want, Elizabeth? Your one of our best analysts!” Elizabeth gave him a hard stare, “I am quite sure.” She thanked him before leaving his office, a noticeable spring her step. She couldn’t help but smile brightly, she was finally free. Her fellow analysts weren’t to sure what to think, why was she moving into the public sector in the middle of nowhere? Had she met someone? Had she joined a cult? They pressed her for answers, blocking her from leaving her cubicle for lunch, nagging her on her walk to the car, and she would not answer. They would not know, she was seeking answers to heal her heart and mind. None of them noticed or cared enough about her during her bouts of social anxiety and depression, they only cared because she was leaving. The day before she left, Elizabeth managed to get her property manager to return her deposit before placing an ad on social media about an apartment for rent. 1 bedroom, 1 bath, 875 square feet, in unit washer/dryer, and for the reasonable rate of $2,100 a month. She had packed what clothes and toiletries she could fit into the trunk and backseat. Also, were her collection of books about fairies, tarot cards, and a few other odds and ends. For the day she left, she chose the same peplum blouse and a pair of navy shorts, and practical tennis shoes. She left right at sunrise, and telling herself, “You can do this, Liz. Ford’s waiting for me, and I hope I’m welcomed when I get there.” Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage and drove away. Not even bothering to check her rear-view mirror, she turned onto US-29 and from there onto 495. There was something freeing about being on the open road, seeing all the sites zipping down the interstates, and Liz relished every minute of freedom. She had John Williams and Enya blasting from her speakers while her smartphone charged with an auxiliary cord. She would stop at small family run diners and map out where she had been. She took photos of the motels she crashed at as reminders to leave reviews, and while she did get pulled over once or twice for speeding, the open road was a siren call, the hero’s quest, a life unfulfilled until now. Her long-hidden self-confidence began to bloom like a rose in season, and thus she began to dawdle a bit on the second leg of her journey. She would sample wares at farmer’s markets, admire flea markets, help emcee a junior rodeo for deaf students, helped change a flat tire for some bikers on their way to a funeral. Her practicality revealed itself, and to her surprise, she made friends with folks easily. Maybe being around all the Personality A types back in Virginia jaded her views? Seemed like it, and so she pressed onward. As she pressed on through the Rocky Mountains, Liz felt like she was playing some odd LARP version of Oregon Trail. The grasslands and occasional desert gave way to actual mountains, so there were numerous photo opportunities. The landscapes were amazing, and all the while, she would blush more often at the thought of being reunited with Ford. As much as she wanted to stay on the road, her destiny lay at her feet. Onward! Finally, at 11:16 AM local time, Elizabeth Connor reached Gravity Falls, Hisaishi’s “Procession of the Spirits” blaring on her speakers. Taking the exit, she drove into a new world, and was that a gnome on the side of the rodeo? Sweet! She drove along the roads, looking at nothing when suddenly, she felt something jolt her car, frying her phone and transmission. Furiously, she gripped the wheel in a vain attempt to stay on the road. Veering dangerously, the car careened over a cliff, down an ivy and grass covered hill and Elizabeth passed out from whiplash before the car eventually skidded to a stop in the parking lot of the Mystery Shack. Meanwhile, Dipper and Mabel Pines had been throwing pinecones at the totem pole from the roof hangout, avoiding their arguing grunkles about firing off the magnet gun. “So, what do you think the chances are Ducktective is going to get renewed,” Mabel chatted as Waddles sat contently on the sofa. Dipper shrugged, “I guess? The ratings on BBC America were high-” ZZZZZAP! The ground rattled and shook as the magnet gun erupted from the other side of the building, and no sooner had the Mystery Twins gotten down, an orange Kia Forte with Virginia plates barreled down from the incline, sliding perilously close to Stan’s prized Cadillac and screeching to a halt. Mabel felt her jaw drop and screamed, “OHMYGOD! Dipper, did ya see that?” Heart pounding, Dipper ran over to the car with his intrepid sister at his heels. Cautiously, they tapped at the driver’s window, which shattered, and inside was a beautiful woman, moaning softly. “Oh thank goodness, she’s alive,” Dipper sighed. Mabel looked back at the driver and at her brother, and it was now Stan and Ford found them, and they were still arguing. Ford pinched the bridge of his nose, “Way to go, Stanley! I told you increasing the range of power on my magnet gun- What happened?” Racing to the scene, he shouted at the twins, demanding to know what happened, with Stan standing not too far behind. Dipper and Mabel explained the car crashing down from the incline, and Ford whistled at the impressive skid marks. “Just hope the driver is all right,” he said aloud. Peeking into the car, Ford felt his heart stop, before slowly opening the door and carefully scooping Liz into his arms and shifting her into a bridal carry. Gently placing a sweet, chaste kiss to her forehead. He murmured, “It’s okay, Liz. Your safe now.” Liz’s eyes slowly opened, and blushed. “Ford,” she asked quietly. Her heart was too full, as they exchanged a soft kiss. She shut her eyes again, too much was going on now. Ford helped her to her feet, grinning like an idiot. Liz was blushing like mad, but she was deliriously happy. Ford rubbed the back of his neck, “I need to introduce you to my great niece and nephew, Dipper and Mabel Pines. Dipper, Mabel- this is Liz Connor, my interdimensional date from a couple of years back.” Liz nodded to them in a friendly manner, and Dipper was about to ask her about how she knew Ford, when Mabel jumped in. She was jumping up and down in a hyper manner, demanding to know all the romantic details of Ford and Liz’s romance, if they had planned a wedding yet, what they would name their children, etc. Dipper coughed, “You’ll have to excuse my sister, she discovered shoujo romance manga last year, and as far as Mabel’s concerned, Wedding Boutique no Reika-chan is the greatest manga since Miyazaki published Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind.” Mabel happily clung to Liz’s waist, and the new arrival laughed. “It’s okay, Dipper. I’m something of a manga reader myself.” She ruffled his hat affectionately, and Dipper smiled at her. He had a feeling Liz and Ford were going to get along swimmingly. Elizabeth and Ford linked their arms and held hands, ambling along as the twins ran ahead, and it was here they caught up with Stan, wearing the usual red and black suit with a gold chain. “There you are, you jerk! If you woulda listened to me… hey! Who’s the babe?” Liz blushed a bit at this, and Ford quietly introduced her. “Didn’t know my brother had good taste in women! I’m Stan Pines, Ford’s twin brother and former owner of the Mystery Shack,” Stan replied, and Liz couldn’t help but grin at the big lug. She could tell he and Ford were brothers. “You said something about a magnet gun and test radius? Could I see it later,” she inquired. Ford looked down at his leather boots and Stan snorted, “Gotta hand it to ya, Sixer. You bagged a hot girl nerd, the rarest of all anomalies.” He showed everyone into the kitchen, where lunch was waiting. Leftover pizza and Pitt Cola, but it tasted delicious. “Actually, part of the reason I came here is because I am an anomaly. Watch,” she explained as she showed them the apple blossoms sprouting from her head, and after pulling out her notebook, she cast the lux trifecta spell, which shot out of an open window and set fire to a nearby bush. Everyone in the room looked at Liz, the burning bush, and back to Liz. “Aunt Liz, you’re a magical girl? That is so awesome! Do you have a transformation trinket?” “Amazing! Actual magic! How…how did you do that?” “Okay, enough of that. Dipper, put out the fire, and Mabel, help your brother. I have a car to fix, and we should leave Sailor Elizabeth and Tuexdo Ford alone for the moment.” “AWWWW MAN!” Once they were alone, Ford held Liz’s hands in his, “I’m happy to see you again. But, why are you here?” Blushing, Liz glanced out the window, “I’ve always been different, Ford. You know flowers grow from my head and sprout from my feet, and I know how to use magic when nobody else I know does. I am an anomaly, and I was hoping you could help me find out more about myself. I don’t really remember where I came from. I need help.” Ford gazed at her with a deep respect and understanding, “I know what it’s like to be alone, to be different. When we met 2 years ago, I had almost given up finding a way home, but you gave me hope. I promise to help you in any way that I can. If I give you my heart, will you give me yours?” “Always.” Ford and Liz sighed happily before sharing another gentle kiss. Helping her to her feet, Ford made the suggestion they get her set up in the basement. Liz rested her head on his shoulder, she was home. -Atbash Code- R olev blf. R plmd.
Chapter 3: Here in Your Arms Chapter Text A burning bush in early June deep in the Oregon forests is an unusual sight, but one caused by a lux trifecta spell was something else. As Dipper and Mabel took turns using a fire extinguisher on the smoldering shrubbery, their thoughts turned to the remarkable snuggled with the scientist grunkle in the kitchen. Dipper knew nothing about magic, and had always been into harder edged science fiction- all things fairies and unicorns were Mabel’s interests. However, the lux trifecta spell intrigued him. Was spellcasting akin to using the Force? Her spell was Latin, did her ancestors speak Ancient Greek as well? He hoped she would teach him that so he could impress Pacifica Northwest, not that he would admit his crush to Mabel. On the other hand, Mabel was in love with the idea of Grunkle Ford and Liz being in love with one another. Her romance addicted brain had started planning potential dates, make out spots, wedding venues, and baby names! She had a small list going: Felicity, Felix, Fiona, Lucas, and Jonah. She was verbally listing every anime song she could think of that would work at a wedding. Wait, what kind of wedding would it be? Traditional from “Fiddler on the Roof” or something modern ala “Downtown Abbey”? “So many songs, too little time,” she hummed excitedly as the last wisps of smoke died down. Dipper grinned a bit, “You are too happy about Grunkle Ford and Aunt Liz, Mabel. Give them some space.” Mabel poked him, “What about you, bro-bro? Wanna take a peek at her spellbook? See if they’re any love spells you want to use on Pacifica-” “MABEL!!” “Just kidding, geez! C’mon, Grunkle Ford and Aunt Liz are keeping the spellbook under lock and key until they get a chance to study it,” Mabel grinned and squeezed his shoulder. Dipper laughed and chased her, Waddles wandering about nearby. They didn’t notice Soos walking up the path, confused as to why there was a wrecked Kia Forte in the parking lot. “Hey dudes! Know anything about the wrecked car,” he asked. Dipper and Mabel looked up, before running over to hug him. As the current manager of the Mystery Shack, he had gone out to get some spare roadkill for some new exhibits. He was drawing on Latino folklore and had been able to create a convincing La Llorona out by the Bottomless Pit. “Whatcha got there, Soos,” Mabel inquired while Dipper looked at the bag of freeze-dried remains. What were those going to be used for? “I got some stuff for a diorama, thought some outdoor exhibits would bring in some more money,” he explained cheerfully as they headed inside. Going through the front door, Liz answered. “You must be Soos, Ford and Stan told me about you.” Soos went wide eyed and knelt at her feet, “My fair lady! I, Jesus Ramerez, swear my fealty to you.” Liz rubbed the back of her neck and blushed in embarrassment, “Gracias, Seńor Soos! I accept your offer well.” Soos grinned at her, and waved at Ford who explained who explained he and Liz were together. Stan was less than enthusiastic with all that was going on. “Okay, enough with all this lovey-dovey stuff, I’m getting cavities! Sixer, Liz- ‘m going into town with the kids for a bit. Can you two keep your hands off of one another while we’re gone?” Ford and Liz looked down at the floor and blushed again. Once Stan and the kids left, Ford suggested they start prepping the basement. It was a standard cement floor basement, filled with cardboard boxes, old suitcases, a washer/dryer unit, and a freestanding water heater. A large, ground level window lit up a corner where the inflatable mattress was. Liz unpacked the dusty rose bed linens and fluffed the pillows, while Ford put together the metal bedframe. The mattress was queen-sized, and Liz laid down on it, comfy. She patted the bed, “Come on, Ford. It’s comfy.” Ford’s eyes widened at the invitation, so he pulled off his lab coat and sat down, before pulling Liz into his lap, arms enveloping her for another kiss. The kisses grew hotter and Liz pressed against him, craving his touch. Years of isolation left them touch starved, and by just holding each other created a sense of clam. Ford laid down with Liz snuggled sweetly against him, and she fell asleep listening to his heartbeat. Before dozing off, Ford kissed her softly. They lay on the bed, entangled for almost three hours, when there was a sharp knock at the door. Ford slowly opened his eyes, kissed Liz, and got up. Whoever was interrupting his nap had better have a valid reason to do so. “This had better be important,” he growled through the door. “Mr. Pines?” “Wendy? What do you want?” “Dipper just called from the police station. Stan got into some altercation with Lil’ Gideon, and he needs to be bailed out.” “Sweet Moses, what a day! How much is his bail?” “Surprisingly low, $200. Amazingly, Bud Gleeful isn’t pressing charges.” Ford rolled his eyes, of course his brother would still hold a grudge against a pre-teen Cotton Matther. Of course, Matther never committed mass fraud and witness intimidation. “I’ll be up in a sec,” he called over his shoulder. Treading down the stairs, he shook Liz awake. She slowly opened her eyes, and as she got up, Ford caught her up to speed. “Does this kid have some cult of personality,” she asked. Ford replied an affirmative, and Lil’ Gideon had found one of his old journals. This peaked Liz’s interest. Ford, seeing the light in her eyes, clasped her hands in his. “Elizabeth, I cannot allow you to learn those contents, not yet anyway. Once you’ve been here longer, I will tell you everything.” A pained look crossed his face, Liz knew he would tell her when he was ready. Wendy was in the den, watching a mindless infomercial when Ford and Elizabeth caught up with her. Wendy gave Liz a friendly wave, “Dude! Your girlfriend is a babe! Total Leia Organa vibes.” Liz grinned at the younger woman, as Ford dragged her out the door, “Onward Aoshima!” Ford’s Jeep Cherokee turned over and rumbled down the road into town. Liz spent the trip staring out the window. Ford squeezed her hand gently and smiled. “I’ll give you a tour of the town tomorrow, if you want to.” “Like a date?” “Um…well… yes! Like a proper date!” Liz squealed in delight, unbuckled her seatbelt, tackling Ford and peppering him with kisses. Ford responded, growling into the nape of her neck, pressing a kiss there. It was now the streetlight turned green, the cars behind them started laying on the horns. Whoops! “Looks like we got carried away,” Liz confesses as she rebuckled her seatbelt. Ford had the goofiest grin on his face for the rest of the trip. The Gravity Falls Police Station sat in a rectangular brick building that once housed a rest stop back in the 1930’s. Pulling into a spot, Ford helped Liz out of the car. Holding her hand, they walked into the foyer, where Mabel and Dipper were hanging out. Relief washed over them when they saw Ford and Liz enter. “Grunkle Ford! Aunt Liz!” Liz hugged them and asked if they were okay. “Yeah, we’re okay,” Mabel affirmed. Ford pulled out his checkbook and asked where the bursar’s office was. “Upstairs, on the left,” was the unenthused reply. As they ascended the stairs, Liz felt Ford’s hand holding hers. Mabel squeed and Dipper rolled his eyes. At the landing, who should they encounter but Bud Gleeful and his son Lil’ Gideon? Bud Gleeful’s eyes fell on Liz at once, what was such a dainty doll doing with Stan’s dorky brother? Liz felt his eyes roam her curves, and she gave him a sharp look. Ford shot daggers at the man, and Bud got the point. “Come along, Charles. Let’s leave Beren and Luthien to their task.” As they left, Gideon gave a friendly wave to Dipper and Mabel. “What a creep,” Liz observed as Ford paid for Stan’s bail. Mabel nodded, “Tell me about it. Gideon, for some reason, developed an obsession with me. There were even a few times he tried to steal the Mystery Shack.” “Really? How is any of the legal?” Mabel shrugged her shoulders, the law banning any mention of Weirdmageddon was in effect, Grunkle Ford was better at explaining it. Liz had to wonder what was going on here. The Pines brothers met them back at the front door. “Ugh! Spending an hour in the county lock up is bad, but listening to Bud Gleeful ramble on about ‘being merciful’ and not pressing charges is a total farce,” Stan groused as they all piled into the SUV. The ride back to the Mystery Shack was silent, with Liz staring out the window, wincing every so often. Ford turned around, “Are you okay, Liz?” She gave a non-committal nod, her head was hurting. A potential aftereffect from the accident earlier? She lightly dozed, and when they returned, she felt a nauseous wave rise in her stomach. She darted into a bush, and vomited her lunch before staggering into the parking lot. Ford moved towards her, “Are you feeling okay?” Liz looked past him, the ground spinning before everything went black. She exhaled sharply, and Ford cradled her. What was going on? Dipper and Mabel looked on worriedly and Stan shooed them inside. Ford carried her into his bedroom and applied a cold compress to her forehead. She moaned weakly, and Ford shut his eyes, tears welling up. “Please don’t leave me, Liz. I love you,” he prayed. Dipper walked in with a first-aid kit. When he saw his Grunkle Ford hold Liz’s hands in his, it took his breath away. Is this what love looked like? He quietly sat beside the older man, “Is Aunt Liz going to be okay, Grunkle Ford?” He asked this quietly, voice trembling. Ford had a far away look in his eyes, “Love is a splendid thing, Dipper. I’m afraid this is beyond me, and I don’t want a medical doctor looking at her until (Liz and I) figure out more about her past and powers.” “Who do we contact then?” “The only person I trust with her life, Fiddleford Hadron McGucket. Call him up and tell him to put together an EKG monitor and a CT scanner. I have plenty of left over parts on the third level,” Ford instructed, before lying down and holding Liz close. Small sprigs of thyme were sprouting, a good sign perhaps? Dipper nodded, “Yes, sir.” -Atbash Code- Olev rh z nzmb hkovmwlivw gsrmt.
Chapter 4: Fiddleford McGucket's Finest Hour A year out from Weirdmageddon, give or take a month or two, found Fiddleford McGucket inside the former Northwest estate and rolling in more money than ever thought possible. Along with that, he had regained most of his sanity, and his relationship with his son was strengthening quite well. He and Ford had made up and were on speaking terms. He had been in the middle of drafting some plans for mecha for a Studio Gainax serial when the phone rang. “Hot diggity! McGucket here.” He listened intently to Dipper’s frantic phone conversation. He understood the gist of it, someone needed urgent medical attention down at the Mystery Shack. Quickly, he put together some miscellaneous odds and ends to act as a makeshift EKG monitor. Speeding down the driveway, he tore into town in his pickup truck, electronic parts stowed in open truck bed careening from side to side with every sharp turn. He nearly ran several red lights; sideswiped Preston Northwest’s beat up station wagon. He had to wonder about the urgency of Dipper’s phone call. The drive from the mansion to the Mystery Shack took about forty minutes, depending on traffic and weather conditions. Eventually, he made his way there, and parked in the parking lot at an angle, taking up three spots. Getting out of the truck, he saw Dipper standing at the door, pacing back and forth on the porch, his face etched with worry. Spitting on the ground, McGucket gathered his supplies, adjusted his green spectacles, and asked Dipper, “How ya holding up?” Dipper looked up at the man with teary eyes, and led him inside. As the passed by the den, he caught sight of Stan, Mabel, Soos, and Wendy watching a VHS copy of Edward Scissorhands. He was about to ask what was going on when Dipper guided him upstairs, away from every one else. (Ice Dance) The door to Ford’s bedroom opened, and Fiddleford felt his jaw drop at the sight of a teary-eyed Ford holding the hands of a frail woman, not yet 30 years old. Upon closer inspection of the wreath around her head and the tats, he dropped to his knees and began reciting the Lord’s Prayer in Gaelic. This confused Ford. “What are you doing? I called you over here to help cure her.” “I’m praying, Sixer. She’s not human.” “I know that! It’s why Liz is her. I made a promise to her when I was still dimension hopping. We met at a nightclub when I was working as a lab technician for the local mafia. That particular night, I was looking for supplies when I saw Liz getting hassled by a bouncer. Being the gentleman that I am, I bribed the bouncer to leave her alone. The moment our eyes locked, I swear, lightning struck. She picked a forget-me-not from her hair and gave it to me. I bought her a drink and we got to talk. I called her the most beautiful anomaly I had ever seen.” “That’s your best pick-up line?!” “Hey! It was a spur of the moment thought, okay? We danced together for a while, and the way she felt in my arms! So soft and lovely, I made a vow to protect her, so I gave her a parchment with the town’s name and state on it…oh!” Liz stirred in her sleep, crepe myrtle blossoms forming now. Ford pressed tender kisses to her hands, and whispered something in Hebrew. McGucket observed this and blushed bright red. Ford turned around and asked his friend if he was okay. Unable to look at Ford in the eyes, Fiddleford pulled out the EKG monitor and hooked it up. One look at Elizabeth’s exposed chest, and Ford felt the temperature in the room had gone up 20 degrees. The read outs were good, so onto the CT scanner. McGucket excused himself to the basement, when Mabel caught up with him, “How’s Aunt Liz doing? Is she going to pull through?” Fiddleford let out the sigh he had been holding in for the better part of an hour before giving Mabel a reply to her answer. “She’s a strong woman, your Aunt Liz. Ford’s taking real good care of her,” he told her, not making eye contact. Mabel, despite her young age, developed a knack for reading people, and she noticed the long sigh and flushed cheeks. The elevator took them down, and then the real work began. Flat screens, magnets to run the scan, lead aprons, and various odds and ends were added in. As they worked together, Mabel questioned, “Old Man McGucket, do you…do you like Grunkle Ford?” “Sure do! (p-tooey!) He was my roommate back in our college days. Soldering iron please.” “No, I mean, do you have feelings for him?” At this line of questioning, Fiddleford gave her a sharp look, and nearly scolded her for the observation. However, she was being completely honest. Taking off the welding mask, he collected his thoughts before speaking: “Yeah, I’ve always had feelings for Stanford since we met at freshman orientation. I caught sight of him from across the auditorium, that thick brown hair, that chiseled jaw, I would go weak in the knees when he spoke. He introduced himself formally after learning we were roommates. That weekend, we played Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons and got to talking about quantum mechanics and related mathematical theories. I wanted to tell him I thought he was handsome, but I chickened out.” “Being gay, at least back then, wasn’t as well… y’know… accepted as much as it today. Lots of us were still in the closet or masking anything that screamed homosexuality to the unwelcoming public. Despite fledgling rights groups getting started, us gays were generally viewed as a pretty lascivious bunch. That really wasn’t my vibe. I wanted a stable relationship, and the person I wanted that with happened to be Stanford Pines. He saw me for who I really was, and I felt like a human being. If Sixer knew how I felt about him, he never said anything. By the time he started his postgrad work, we had started to grow apart. We kept in touch, but I was called home to work for IBM at one of their satellite offices.” “I married Nadine McGee in late ’78, and we moved to Palo Alto the following year. Those years I was closeted, it was a living hell, Mabel Pines. Do you even know it’s like pretending to be something your not? All the times I put myself in a psych ward and wrote them off as business expenses. I love my son, I am his father, but in all honesty, I never loved my wife the way a husband should. She resented all the time I spent away, and the fact I spent time at the local gay clubs just to keep my sanity.” “It was mid-April of 1980 when Stanford called me. By then, Nadine and I had legally separated, so I was happy to pack my bags and go north. Nadine knew full well Ford didn’t have any feelings for me. So, I rented a house in town and helped your uncle build the portal.” He drank some water and put the finishing touches on the portable CT scanner. He smiled at Mabel, “Come on, let’s get this here brain scanner doohickey upstairs.” Mabel nodded, with a newfound respect for the old man. The stairs creaked as they walked up from the main level basement to the second floor. Inside, they found Ford sound asleep on top of Liz’s stomach. Fiddleford felt his heart clench at the sight. Mabel turned to him, and he nodded. Mabel shook her uncle awake, and after hooking Liz up, it was revealed she had no concussion, just a touch of shock from the car crash. “Let her sleep it off, she’ll be fine.” Ford wiped away his tears and thanked his old friend profusely. Smiling softly, Fiddleford took his leave, but not before Ford stopped him. “Fiddleford, wait up! Mabel told me about what you said, and I do owe you my utmost gratitude for caring for Liz… let me kiss you.” “Really?” Ford’s kiss was not one of the sweeping romantic ones he shared with Liz, but it was heartfelt and sweet. Fiddleford had melted a bit. For the first time, Fiddleford Hadron McGucket felt at peace. Today had been finest hour. When Ford got back inside, Mabel hugged him tightly, and standing at the top of the stairwell was Elizabeth. She was wrapped in a quilt, and before she had reached the bottom, Ford pulled her into spin and gave her a swoon worthy kiss. -Atbash Code- Lmv wzb nliv Zmlgsvi wzb, zmlgsvi wvhgrmb Lmv wzb nliv!
Chapter 5: What Dreams May Tell Us Liz was greeted heartily by the gang, who were beyond relieved she was okay. She was still somewhat lightheaded (understandable), so she sat next to Ford on the sofa, resting her head on his shoulder. Dipper went over their movie choices, “Let’s see, we’ve watched Edward Scissorhands, the original Frankenweenie, and some odd version of Hansel and Gretel. Liz, it’s your turn to pick. Mars Attacks or The Nightmare Before Christmas?” Having seen both films, Liz decided on the latte. It was a lighter film, if such a claim could be made regarding Tim Burton’s filmography. Ford was inclined to agree, a lighter film would help lift the mood. Liz, all things considered, fell asleep towards the middle of the film, and Ford let out a yawn. Today had been more tiring than he thought, so he excused himself and Liz, and retreated upstairs. “So much for the Chinese carry out we ordered,” Wendy observed. Soos cast a look out the window, “Delivery’s here, dudes.” Stan got up, cracked his back, and ambled to the front door. “Here, make with the food, we’re dying in here,” he groused. Stan slammed the door, and announced dinner was served. After a traumatic afternoon, everyone chowed and talked about all the goings on. “I am wiped, I don’t know about you,” Wendy confessed. Everyone was in agreement. Hopefully, Liz would get adjusted to life in Gravity Falls. A leaden weariness fell over the gang like a giant quilt, and when Wendy drove home, it was closing on 8:30 pm. Dipper looked at the clock, it was that early? Mabel yawned and told him, “Don’t wait up making plans for Triple D- I’m going to bed.” Dipper nodded, he had wanted to draft a round and invite Aunt Liz to join him and Grunkle Ford. When his head hit the pillow, he started snoring. Ford held Liz in his arms as they slept. Liz dreamt of her past. She found herself alone, walking along a marble floor. Everything within sight was obscured by fog. Liz yelled in her sleep, startling Ford. “Liz, are you okay,” he whispered. She called out again, and Ford kissed her feverish brow, “What are you dreaming about?” Shutting his eyes, he was determined to join Liz in her dream, and he did reach her. He touched her shoulder, “I’m here with you, sweetheart.” Liz gave him a sad smile, and pressed forward, slipping from his grasp. He nodded, this was something she needed to do alone. Liz pressed onward, when she came across a frieze. It reminded her of the funerary scenes from Ancient Greece pictured in her high school history textbooks. The portrayed scene was indeed a funeral procession, but the attendees and mourners were all women and girls. Taking a closer look, Elizabeth discovered they were all wearing porcelain masks and had the same tattoos as here. What was going on? There was an inscription on the casket, but it was carved in Gaelic. “Too bad Gaelic wasn’t offered at Marymount when I was getting my degree, it would have come in handy,” she told herself. She could make some of the names of the Muses: Terpsichore, Urania, Polyhymnia and Kalliope. The other 5 names were too worn to even decipher. Some of the other names invoked she could read: Nodens, Brigit and The Daghda. Her hands brushed over the Celtic deities, and pangs of ice shot up her arms, she yelped in pain. The faces in the frieze gazed upon her, and to her surprise, their eyes gazing at her with utmost longing. “Who are you, and what do you want of me,” she demanded. A sudden burst of unbearable heat engulfed, and she screamed. “AAAAAHHH,” she shrieked, sitting up in Ford’s bed. Gasping for a breath, she glanced at the clock radio, the time reading 8:12 am. What a freaky dream, I need to talk to Ford about it as soon as possible, she thought. She was the only person in the room, as soon as she was downstairs, Liz decided to speak to Ford. “Seems like the best place to start.” (Book of Days ) After taking a shower and throwing on a navy tank top and a pair of denim shorts, she joined the family at the dining table. Ford lit up when he saw her, “Good morning, Elizabeth. Sleep well?” Liz didn’t have time to answer because Mabel ambushed her, who had a billion questions about what it had been like to work for the federal government. “Boring, depressing, and highly regimented, at least for me,” was Liz’s answer in between a glass of orange juice and plate of scrambled eggs. Mabel nodded, jotting down notes with colored pencils. Every so often, she would gaze adoringly at Ford and Liz, before going back to writing. Dipper raised an eyebrow, what was his sister doing? “Hey Liz! You have car insurance, right?” “Of course, I do! Wait, you’re not committing tax fraud are you?” “Me, commit fraud? You think so little of me, your future brother-in-law?” “Stanley, knock it off!” “All right, all right! Yeesh!” Ford stood up from the table, “I’m doing some research out in the woods, Liz, would you like to go with me?” Liz jumped up, knocking over her glass. “You really want me to assist you?” Ford gazed into her golden eyes, “Sweetheart, you are my partner. Wherever I go, I want you at my side. Go put on some sunscreen and bug spray and meet in the parking lot in about an hour.” Liz kissed his cheek before going to the basement to prep. “Take note, Dipper. That is how you sweep someone off their feet.” Liz brought a water bottle and a light jacket with her, and when she joined him, Ford thought his jaw would hit the ground. Liz’s cobalt blue tats covered her body, but they added to her beauty. She smiled brightly, sunflowers crowning her head. “Shall we get going then?” Liz nodded, of course! As they hiked along the myriad of hidden paths, Liz confessed to seeing a gnome on her drive in. “They’re like racoons,” she had joked. Ford nodded in agreement and explained, in many ways Gravity Falls gnomes were raccoons. He also mentioned how they tried to force Mabel to become their queen last summer. Liz frowned, creepy! Ford agreed with her. “I want to head into the enchanted part of the forest. Apparently, a unicorn has been pushing into gnome territory, and someone needs to remind her she has her own enclave,” Ford explained as they trekked through a shallow creek bed. “What are unicorns like, anyway?” “A lot of work, for starters. The whole ‘virgin with a pure heart’ is a baldfaced lie, all their horns can do is play rave music, light up and make shapes when they touch a solid object. I could never make inroads, but Mabel did- props to her.” They continued hiking in a comfortable silence, Ford rattling off ephemera about the anomalies within Gravity Falls, with Liz listening and asking questions with rapt attention. Her doe eyes were focused completely on him, and it was tying his hearts up in knots. Elizabeth felt she was discovering part of herself and was satisfied with her decision to leave Virginia for Oregon. Eventually, they reached their destination, a clearing where a tree trunk had been hollowed out and turned into a biker bar. “A gnomish Mos Eisly cantina,” Ford deadpanned to Elizabeth, making her snicker. The interior had tables, a long bar, pool tables, the whole nine yards. Gnomes were throwing back shots of mead, arm wrestling, and talking in small groups. Ford entered first, followed by Liz. The bartender nodded and slid two shots glasses of hard cider down the bar. The cider was slightly bitter, but it was tasty. “Delicious!” Geoff, the gnome’s leader, strode over to them, “Ford! Mrs. Ford? Am I glad to see you! Celestabellebethabelle is wreaking havoc where we live! She’s eating all our food, running up our phone bills, and gets all mopey when we try to force her to leave. Please, you two are our only hope!” Liz began to think of how to solve the problem, maybe she could grow some ivy and use it as a lasso. Could it work? Ford caught the glint in her eye, and he smiled, “Lassos won’t work. Unicorns burn through anything used to lasso or bridle them.” He gave her a gentle kiss, before throwing some change down to pay for the cider. Liz leaned her head on his shoulder, and Ford grinned. They strolled along until they found the entrance to the gnomes’ cavern. The main floor was down a mossy incline, so Ford and Liz traversed it carefully. There was a lip at the very bottom, so they had to jump it. In the middle of the cavern sat a pretentious unicorn, surrounded by gossip rags and rainbows. It whinnied and tossed its mane, before deigning to gaze distastefully at the two humans in the room. “I am Celestabellebethabelle, and you can’t make me leave.” Liz pulled off her hiking boots, socks and jacket. She approached the unicorn and Celestabellebethabelle glared, “I am not leaving.” “Terpsichore, give me strength. You need to leave.” It was the mention of the Muse that got Celestabellebethabelle upset. She whinnied, before bucking onto her rear legs, and then charged at Liz, top speed. Liz, not even flinching, stood calmly, reached out a hand, and grabbed Celestabellebethabelle by the horn and looked her straight in the eye, “You are heading back to the unicorn enclave. Now.” Another whinny, and the unicorn fled to her home. Ford was flabbergasted by what had just happened. He had been journaling the confrontation, and he asked Liz about what she had said to the unicorn. It was now Liz told him everything she had seen in her dream. She would pause and let Ford ask his questions, to which she would follow up to the best of her ability. “It’s not much, but we have some leads we can start tracking down. Let’s go home. Dipper probably has the Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons game set up,” Ford informed Liz. She smiled, sounded like fun! While Ford and Liz had been gallivanting around in the woods, Mabel had ridden a bike over to her friend Candy’s house. Candy was one the friends she had made last summer, along with another girl named Grenda. They were all pen-pals, and their letters were weekly highlights. Mabel had brought them both up to speed with Ford and Liz’s relationship. They were all in Candy’s bedroom, scrolling through the pictures Mabel had taken of the couple. “I have to say, Mabel, your Grunkle Ford and Aunt Elizabeth are quite the photogenic couple. When do you think they’ll get married? Do you think we’ll get to be bridesmaids?” Candy gazed dreamily up at the ceiling. Grenda leafed through some loose-leaf issues of Princess Tutu, “Ugh, I ship them so much!” Mabel nodded and verbally agreed with them, as she doodled the two adults in different outfits. Her personal favorite was a drawing of them as The Nutcracker and Clara from the Tchaikovsky ballet. Grenda glanced at the picture, “That’s my favorite of all the pictures you’ve drawn, Mabel.” Mabel nodded, “Yeah, they are fun to draw. I need your help with the music. I plan to deejay at their wedding. I have a list going, but I could use some help compiling more songs.” Grenda and Candy were eager to assist Mabel, what had she come up with? Mabel’s song list included some old standards, quite a few songs from Japanese anime with any hint of romance themes, and a few from classical music. “The love theme from Romeo and Juliet is overrated,” Mabel informed her friends, and they nodded in agreement. It was overplayed. Back at the Shack, Dipper had been working on a dungeon worthy of Aunt Liz. Back home in California, girls normally didn’t play Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons. What would Liz like? Would she play the love interest? Nah, he couldn’t see her doing that. “Looks like I’m going to have to wait and see what happens next.” The door opened, and in walked Liz and Ford, laughing at some private joke. Taking off her jacket, Liz glanced towards the den. “Dipper, did you create all of this?” Dipper beamed at her praise and asked if she ever played. Elizabeth admitted she had always wanted to, but never knew anyone who played. Ergo, she had collected the core rulebooks and scribbled down her own additions and personal notes. Ford was intrigued, what had she written down? Running down to the basement, she returned to the den with four slim volumes. Ford leafed through the books, wondering at Liz’s stubborn insistence of stat blocking evenly of base scores. “Is this a homebrew setting,” he finally asked. Liz said it was, and asked if everything was okay. Ford looked at the books, “Liz, you can’t stack the stat blocks like that, the stats grow with the character. You wouldn’t expect Luke Skywalker to start off with a base score of 17 charisma at the start of A New Hope, would you? Maybe by the end of Return of the Jedi… what are you doing?” Liz had slid down the straps of her tank top and was biting her bottom lip playfully, putting poor Ford in a difficult position, as Dipper was watching this with wide eyes. “Well, I put a lot of thought into what I wrote,” she told Ford before pulling him into a deep kiss. Ford pulled the straps back up and nuzzled her, “You’re playing a dangerous game, my dear.” Liz smiled, “That’s how you roll a nat 20 in charisma, Sixer.” Ford burst out laughing at her confession and held her close. “I’ve been beaten by my girlfriend,” he laughed. They shared another kiss, before checking on Dipper. Dipper was still in a state of shock, and now Ford and Liz were concerned they broke the poor kid. Ford knelt down and asked Dipper if he was okay. Dipper was okay, but he was grossed about with the PDA he just witnessed. “Are you two done snogging,” he shouted. Liz and Ford blushed before sitting down to commit to the game. The game got underway. -Atbash Code- Vcxvohrli!
