I request Ford and Mouse at the lake together (fic or art, I’m fine either way)
@nelson-and-murdock It’s a bit longer than a drabble, but WHO CARES
You park your car and switch off the engine, looking out your windshield at the scene before you. It’s a scorching hot summer day, and Lake Gravity Falls is absolutely swarming with townspeople trying to cool off in the muggy heat. As you peel yourself out of your seat, legs sticking to the faux leather, your immediate impulse is to run straight for the water. But of course, Ford has other ideas.
“Hurry along, Mouse,” he says briskly, hopping out of the passenger side of the car and helping you out. “We’re burning daylight!”
“Wouldn’t it be better to wait until there’s a little less daylight?” you grumble, squinting in the sun. He just grabs your gross, sweaty hand and pulls you along like a rag doll. Whatever.
He leads you past the crowds along the shore, and you find yourselves picking your way over rocks, fallen branches, and scraggly bushes as you circumnavigate the lake. You stop at one point to watch your old friend the Parasaurolophus as it wades in the shallow water, dunking his head under the surface to pick aquatic plants. You’re glad it’s doing well. You’re equally glad that its fellow denizen of the mines, the Utahraptor, isn’t around to terrorize the valley.
At last Ford brings you both to a halt, urging you to crouch down behind a clump of cattails and stay silent. You frown, wondering what on earth is supposed to be happening, but he points a finger at a very familiar-looking hole in the wet earth just above the shoreline. Almost as if on cue, a stout little plaidypus squeezes its way out of the opening and waddles down to the water.
It’s immediately followed but a pair of tiny, fat, adorable plaidypus babies. They’re both greenish-blue in color, their tartan patterns barely coming in. You watch as they scamper after their mother, tumbling and tripping all over themselves. Good God.
“Oh, get out of town,” you whisper, reaching out and shoving Ford’s shoulder. “They’re so cute, I can’t stand it.”
He chuckles under his breath. “Worth sitting out here in the ninety degree heat and one hundred percent humidity?”
“Do you even have to ask?” You fight the urge to squeal in delight as the plaidypus young splash about. “How did you know about these little guys?”
Ford’s smile is smug. “I have my sources.”
He huffs a laugh. “The gnomes,” he confirms. “I knew plaidypus breeding season was a few months ago, so I asked our forest-dwelling friends to keep an eye out for nests. Last week they spotted these two first venturing out of their den, and came to inform me.”
You feel a warmth in your chest that has nothing to do with the heat. This man really recruited a bunch of gnomes to help him plan an outing that he knew would make you happy. Talk about an anomaly.
“Twins,” you observe, holding his gaze with your own. “I love twins.”
He smiles. “Twin brothers, I believe.”
“Stan Junior and Ford Junior,” you dub them, making him snort with amusement. “Oh, I should have brought Porridge! She would have loved playing with them.”
“Unfortunately, plaidypuses are solitary animals, much like their non-patterned kin,” says Ford. “And they’re very territorial. I’m afraid this female would feel threatened by the presence of an intruder.” He shakes his head. “Frankly, I’m amazed that Porridge is so social. She gets along with everyone and everything, including pigs, goats, and Multi-bears.”
You watch as the babies and their mother look over at you with interest, but don’t show any signs of alarm. “These ones don’t seem particularly frightened of us.”
“No,” Ford agrees. “It’s curious; plaidypuses seem to have no sense of self-preservation when it comes to larger creatures, unless they pose a direct threat to them. They must sense that we mean them no harm.”
You both stand up slowly, not making any sudden moves so as not to startle your little friends. But they’re completely unbothered as they root about in the mud for worms.
“I love them,” you declare, taking Ford’s hand. “And I love you. Thank you for dragging my sweaty ass out here to see them.”
Even in the sweltering heat, he manages to blush. “Well… I would think it apparent by now that I’d do anything for you.” The corner of his lips twitch. “And your ass. Sweaty or otherwise.”
A surprised laugh escapes you. Bending down, you dip a hand into the water and splash him. With an indignant noise, he reaches down and splashes you back, his six-fingered hand creating a much wider spray. Soon you’re both knee-deep in the water, laughing and splashing each other relentlessly while the family of plaidypuses watch in confusion.
