Feb 11, 2023
It's her golden hour~
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It's her golden hour~
dating sim fanart 👀👀👀
Jackie gets to date them both ❤
GF - Where the Crop Circles Grow ch.9
Summary: When things get out of hand at the Pines’ family farm, Ford asks an old college buddy to assist investigating anomalies and Stan hires a farmhand. Who knew asking for help would actually get you somewhere?
Everything belongs to @lemonfodrizzleart. The Farmer AU, Jackie Asante, my heart, etc.
Hephzie and Georgina belong to me.
Ao3 link here.
ch.8
~~~~~~~~~~
Jackie and Stan took Tate out with them to the grocery store so the five-year-old could stretch his legs. Jackie held his hand and promised him that if he was good, he could get a gumball. Little Tate was so well-behaved that not only did Jackie take him to the front of the store for a gumball while Stan paid, but Stan quickly slipped a box of popsicles into the buggy as a treat.
Jackie gave Tate the quarter and let him slip it into the machine and turn the gear himself, rewarded with a shiny blue gumball that he instantly popped into his mouth. Jackie had to admit that it looked tasty, so she slipped a quarter in for herself and out came a shiny red gumball. While she grabbed her piece, Tate asked her, “Jackie? What does tryouts mean?”
Jackie looked at the boy and followed his line of vision. On the wall there were posters for a canned food drive, a Now Hiring sign for the grocery store, advertisements for a sale coming up soon, and tryouts for the Little League Baseball teams. She smiled and answered, “Tryouts are when you try to be on a team.”
Tate grinned and said, “I wanna play baseball!”
Jackie was a bit surprised, but he loved to play catch with Fiddleford and Stan, so she shrugged and said, “I think that’s a great idea, but let’s ask your daddy if it’s okay first.”
“Oh, he won’t care, I wanna play! Please please please!”
Stan joined them with a buggy filled with bags of food and he raised an eyebrow with a cheeky smile. “He ain’t buggin’ for more gum, is he?”
“No no, he wants to join a baseball team.” Jackie said and pointed to the poster.
Stan caught on quickly and grinned. “Well o’course he can play! Don’t see why not.”
“Yay!”
“But we should still make sure Fiddlesticks is okay with it.”
“Aw!” Tate whined.
Stan chuckled and ruffled his hat. “Son, sign-ups ain’t for another four days, so it ain’t like nobody’s stoppin’ ya from playin’ tomorrow. We’ll tell your old man when we get home, he’ll say yes, n’ we’ll take you to the tryouts.”
That made sense to Tate. “Oh. Okay.”
Stan picked him up and had him sit on his shoulders while Jackie pushed the buggy back to the car.
~~~~~~~~~~
Jackie had dinner ready at six o’clock. Ford and Fiddleford were still out trying to find the Enchanted Forest. Jackie managed to delay dinner for a little while, but soon Tate got hungry, so she gave in and served dinner closer to seven, and the two scientists still weren’t home.
Tate quietly poked at his food, having hardly touched his chicken pot pie. Jackie and Stan kept an eye on him and exchanged looks, feeling sorry for the boy and could tell something was bothering him, but they had learned that if they asked, Tate would build walls and pretend he was okay, so they didn’t push it so he wouldn’t have to pretend.
It was eight o’clock now and the sun was nearly gone in the late-spring evening. They all heard the front door open and close and two men hurried into the kitchen. “So sorry we’re late, it took longer to get home than we thought it would.” Ford apologized as he and Fiddleford scrambled to join them at the table for some quality time.
“It’s okay.” Jackie said, her tone saying that it was only a little okay. But she noticed that Tate had perked up a tiny bit and was eating bigger bites, so she smiled and cleared her throat. “Tate, honey, wasn’t there something you wanted to ask your daddy?”
Fiddleford sat next to him with a mason jar of sweet tea and a bowl of chicken pot pie and smiled warmly. Tate brightened and said, “I wanna play baseball!”
Fiddleford blinked, a bit surprised, and smiled sympathetically. “M’sorry, son, it’s too late in the day to play now, but how ‘bout tomorrow…”
“No no, I wanna play on a team! I wanna tryout for the team!”
That certainly made more sense. “Oh! I see. Well, once tryouts open…”
“They are.” Jackie explained. “We saw a flier at the store today and Tate got inspired, but of course we said he had to have your permission first.”
Fiddleford thanked her and Stan silently with a smile, and then nodded and said, “O’course it’s okay with me! If ya wanna play ya should play.”
“Thanks Daddy!” Tate cheered and swallowed the last of his dinner, put the dishes in the sink, and ran off.
“When are sign-ups?” Fiddleford asked.
“Thursday at one in the afternoon.” Stan said.
“I’d like to go n’ watch him tryout.” Fiddleford said and turned to his business partner. “Think we can take a break a little after lunch?”
“Yeah, we should be able to.” Ford answered. “Where is it? The high school? We can meet you there and then go home with you guys, make it a half-day of investigating.”
“Sounds great!” Jackie said, then added a bit more serious, but her smile was still there, “I know he’d want you to be there, Fidds.”
Fiddleford’s smile dropped. He had been so busy the last few weeks trying to find the safe haven the anomalies called home and what the humans called the Enchanted Forest that he hadn’t been as attentive to his son as he would like to be, but he smiled determinedly and nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Tate came running back with two gloves and a baseball. “Can we play catch, Daddy?”
Now how in the world is any parent supposed to say no to that? Fiddleford glanced outside and saw that there was still a bit of sunlight, so he grinned, shoved some food in his mouth, and went outside with his son to play.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next four days Ford and Fiddleford really pushed themselves to find the Enchanted forest so they could relax a bit on Thursday, leaving early in the morning and not returning until evening. This eradicated time for anything else, but Fiddleford always made time to tuck Tate in for bed.
Thursday came. Jackie and Stan took Tate to the high school’s baseball field where the Little League sign-ups, practices, and games would be held. The youngest age groups for the teams were four-five year olds; it turned out none of the kids necessarily had to tryouts, every kid that wanted to be on the team would be on a team, but the coach walked them through the rules of baseball and showed the kids what to do. There were enough kids that wanted to play that each grade (preschool, kindergarten, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade) could be broken into three or four teams, that way each game was only with kids their own age; no 1st graders would have to play against 5th graders.
Stan and Jackie sat at the bleachers, watching Tate play and make friends. The Tyler kid from the big party was also there, and the two boys had fun throwing the baseball to one another and running around and swinging the bat. Stan raised an eyebrow when the coach was putting the ball on a little stand rather than throwing the ball. “The hell…?”
“They do T-Ball for the preschoolers, sweetie.”
“But that ain’t baseball.”
“They’re just learning.” Jackie chuckled.
Stan rolled his eyes and swept the area for two familiar faces. “The hell are those knuckleheads at?”
Jackie shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon. Maybe they got lost.”
Stan snorted bitterly. “Sixer knows these woods like the back of his hand.”
“They’ll be here. “Jackie repeated stubbornly. “Least they better be…”
The young couple stood and cheered as it was Tate’s turn to try to hit the baseball. He excitedly let the coach show him what to do and then let Tate give it a try, and on his first swing Tate knocked the ball off the T, sending it flying to second base.
Stan and Jackie cheered proudly as the coach put a new ball on the T and let Tate hit the ball a few more times, giving him a feel for it. Tate was grinning the entire time, except for when he looked at the bleachers to see if his dad was there.
Fiddleford and Ford finally emerged from the woods, covered in twigs and leaves, and ran to the baseball stadium. They saw Stan and Jackie talking to a guy in a cap with a whistle, a black and golden uniform in Stan’s hands and Jackie was holding Tate’s hand. The three said goodbye to the couch and started for the exit, where Ford and Fiddleford stood and grinned.
“Hey there!” Fiddleford greeted and Tate ran to his open arms. “Ya made the team?”
“Yup! I hit the ball n’ everythang!”
“Congratulations, sweetie! I’m proud of you! Ice cream on me!” Fiddleford hoisted his son on his shoulders and they walked together out of the baseball field.
“First practice is next Monday at 6, another one Thursday at 6, then first game on Saturday at 11.” Stan recited, remembering what the coach had said.
“Ya gonna come, Daddy?” Tate asked.
“O’course I am! Sorry I was late for your tryouts, son, but I’ll be there for your practices n’ games, for sure!”
~~~~~~~~~~
Fiddleford shouldn’t have bet money on that promise, because if he did, he would be broker than the Ten Commandments.
The nerds were nowhere to be found at both practices. Jackie and Stan tried to be very supportive of Tate, and the boy seemed content on retelling everything to his dad at bedtime, but every time Tate would look at the stands at practice, that disappointed look on his face hurt the grown-ups more than they cared to admit.
The night before the game, Fiddleford emerged from Tate’s room and yawned. “Well, I’m goin’ t’bed myself.”
Jackie walked to the hallway and said, “Fiddleford, you got a second?”
“Yeah sure.” And the man from Tennessee walked up to the farmhand.
“I don’t think I need to tell you how much Tate wants you to be at that game tomorrow.” Jackie said plain as flour.
Fiddleford was solemn, and he nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
“So you’re gonna be there, right?”
“O’course.”
“Cuz if you ain’t, and I gotta see that heartbroken look on that boy’s face one more time, cuz you’re not there, I’m gonna hunt you down and kick your ass .Am I in any way unclear?”
She was so cool, so collected, so calm, that in a way it made her threat even scarier. Fiddleford swallowed and nodded. “No, ma’am.”
“Good. G’night.” And Jackie left the man alone with his thoughts.
~~~~~~~~~~
“... the tracks are fresher in this region of the forest, so if we quickly investigate it and leave by lunchtime, we should…”
“No.”
Ford looked up from his map on the table. “Excuse me?” He said, not sounding offended, but mildly confused and in need of clarification.
“No, we’re takin’ the day off.” Fiddleford said firmly. “I know we need t’find the magic forest n’ whatnot, but one’s gotta take time off for family, y’know? We say we’re gonna finish in time, but we never do. So, if ya wanna run ‘round n’ try to find the hidy-hole, that’s fine, but m’takin’ the day off to watch my son play baseball.”
Ford blinked, his cheeks a bit red from embarrassment, and he nodded and rolled up the map. “Y-Yes, of course. We’ve been working hard enough all week, anyways. I’ll take the day off, as well.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“Swing bat-a-bat-a swing!” Stan sang, standing on the bleachers and spinning his maroon hat as Tate’s team stopped a home-run.
Jackie giggled at his enthusiasm while he sat back down and the teams switched. A little boy walked up to the plate, dragging a heavy bat, and the four adults stood and cheered.
“Go Tate!”
“C'mon, boy, kick their butts!”
“Ya got this, son!”
“Have fun!”
Tate grinned happily to see his dad and his dad’s friends cheering him on, and he was more than ready to hit a home-run.
~~~~~~~~~~
Jackie grinned when she came into view behind the screen door and she was faced with that bright smile. “Well hey there, Jackie!” The young woman said happily, opening the screendoor.
“Hi, Hephzie.” Jackie greeted warmly. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything…”
“Nah, we’re not doing much of anythang, really. Wanna come in for some tea?”
“Love to, thanks.”
Hephzie warmly let her into the house, letting her escape the dreary weather outside as rain threatened to fall but never did, lingering in the air like overweight mist. Hephzie closed the screen door, but left the front door open to enjoy the cool air, and then began to gather what she needed for the tea.
“Half-Pint, who’s that?” A frail old voice called from the living room.
“My friend, Jackie, Grandma,” Hephzie called gently and turned to Jackie. “She’s havin’ a very good day to day, you’ll have to meet her.”
Jackie smiled and nodded. “I’d love to!”
Hephzie led the way into the living room and there the old lady who was normally asleep was rocking in her chair with a small black photo album in her bony hands. Jackie smiled at how kind and peaceful the old woman smiled at her. She had long dreadlocks, like Hephzie did, black eyes like beetles, and wore an orange dress with brown beads and had a quilt over her lap.
“Grandma, this is Jackie Asante. Jackie, this is my grandmother, Georgina Cece.” Hephzie introduced.
“It’s lovely to meet you, ma’am.” Jackie said.
“Oh, you’re just as beautiful as a summer’s day, honey,” Georgina awed and patted the couch by her hip. “Now ya sit on down right here n’ tell me all ‘bout yourself.”
Jackie ignored her warm cheeks and did as she was told. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Want some tea, Grandma.”
“Yes, Half-pint, I sure do.”
Jackie smiled again at the nickname and asked, “Why does she call you Half-Pint?”
Hephzie rolled her eyes fondly as she walked back into the kitchen and her grandmother answered for her. “George started callin’ her that when we brought her home cuz she was so tee tiny n’ sweet. She’s our little half-pint of sweet apple cider half-drunken up.”
“Half a pint that’s half drunken up?” Jackie repeated and giggled. “She must’ve been really small.”
“Oh, she was! C’mere, lookie here, darlin’.” Georgina opened the book in her hands and flipped to the back, where it was filled with pictures of a tiny baby that would grow into a young girl raised by her grandparents. “That there Hephzibah,”
“Oh! Hephzie! You were so cute!” Jackie called as she gazed at the pictures.
“Were?” Hephzie called back, making the visitor laugh.
As Hephzie brewed the tea and set out her tea set, Georgina ended up flipping to the beginning of the photo album and sharing the family history with Jackie. It turned out that Georgina had six younger brothers, one of whom had died during World War II and one that died in a train accident in the early thirties, but the rest went on to have many children, leading to quite the extended family.
“My mama n’ her family came here from Ireland, see, after they were freed, hopin’ to find a better life.” Georgina told. “They came here when she was a wee girl, n’ later she’d come here with her brother n’ his wife n’ that’s how she met Daddy. That’s ‘em on their weddin’ day.” And she pointed out a picture of the newlyweds.
Jackie smiled. “What were their names?”
“Tara Murphy n’ Dakarai Obi.” Georgina shared. “My daddy’s daddy was actually born a slave to the Northwest family, but he n’ everyone were freed when he was a boy. Daddy used to love to tell me the day it happened! My granddaddy, Abe Obi, n’ everyone else was brought out n’ listened as Nathaniel Northwest had to stand before all his slaves n’ explain that they were free. They could leave, or they could stay n’ be paid for their work, but Abe let go of his daddy’s hand, ran up to Northwest, kicked him in the leg, n’ his daddy scooped him up n’ they ran for home!” Georgina laughed.
Jackie laughed alongside her. Only now was her attention fully given; not that Jackie wasn’t interested, but something about what Georgina said stuck with her. The name Obi sounded very familiar.
Georgina turned a page and a family picture of each brother was before her. The women smiled and Jackie listened as Georgina named each and every one of them. “That’s Ben n’ Charlotte n’ their kids, Benji, Lucy, n’ Jeremiah. N’ then that there is Daniel n’ Dorothy, they had four kids: Arthur, Annie, Anna Grace, n’... n’...”
“Anthony?” Hephzie called to the kitchen.
“Anthony! Thank ya, sweetie. Now, that there is Caleb! He married…”
“Mary.”
Georgina blinked at Jackie, surprised, and smiled. “Why yes! How ya know that, honey?”
Jackie stared at the picture of Georgina’s brother, Caleb. Caleb was standing next to his wife, Mary, and was holding a young girl, hugging and smiling. Jackie had seen that picture before, in the house she grew up in. Her parents kept family photos on the fireplace mantel.
Jackie pointed at Caleb in the photo and said, “That’s my Papa,” She pointed to Mary. “That’s my Nana,” And she pointed to the little girl. “And that’s my mom.”
Hephzie was standing by the doorway, a tray of tea set in her hands. She stared as the women were slowly coming to a realization. Jackie looked at Georgina carefully and was starting to see the resemblance of a younger woman that was described to her as her grandfather’s sister. Hephzie sat the tray down carefully so her shaking hands wouldn’t break anything.
Georgina’s eyes were shining with tears. She bit her lip and asked, “You’re Caleb’s baby girl?”
Jackie huffed a small puff of laughter, but paused when Hephzie put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to find Hephzie smiling radiantly, like the bright sun on a white winter’s morning. “We’re… family?”
Jackie nearly threw Hephzie down, launching herself at her and hugging her tightly. Hephzie hugged her back and chuckled, beyond joyful to have made the discovery. Despite the large extended family, for all of Hephzie’s life it had just been her and her grandparents. And as much as Jackie loved being in Gravity Falls, that small amount of homesickness she had in the back of her head was now dead.
The newly found cousins sat on the couch and Grandma took Jackie’s hand and squeezed it. “Well now, bless my soul, I got me another half-pint! No no, George n’ I will have to think of somethang special for ya, darlin’. Now ya have to tell me all ‘bout yourself!”
Jackie chucked as Hephzie poured her a cup of tea, and it was Jackie’s turn to do the storytelling.
Vines for Gravity Falls OCs
a VERY special gift for the following OCs and their parents: @lemonfodrizzleart’s Jackie, Kelvin, and her JackieStan children, Stella, Stanford Jr., Dawn, Jackson, and Jayson; @stephreynaart’s Jacob; @cookiebizcuit’s Xavier; @evaroze’s Hazel; @jackyjackdraws’s Kevin; and my own oc, Hephzie.
PLEASE go show your love and support to these wonderful creators!
GF - Everything
For @lemonfodrizzleart, featuring her oc, Jackie Asante. I hope you like it, sweetie! The comic that inspired the first half can be found here.
~~~~~~~~~~
Stan gave his girl an impressed look when she downed another shot of tequila and she asked for her second blue pineapple margarita. He brought his second jug of Angry Orchard up to his lips, reminiscing on the brown sugar that laced the rim of the glass, his eyes up at one of the many TVs playing different ball games. Stan was drawn into a football game and he winced with a smile as one guy got tackled by seven different guys, so close to a touchdown.
Jackie gave her guy a soft smile as he let the heavy glass land on the wooden bar with a quiet clunk. He looked very handsome right now, relaxed, sitting back in his chair while watching the game, the soft bar lights highlighting his beautiful features, like his soft brown eyes and matching mullet, his contagious smile. Sure he only sported worn jeans, a dirty white t-shirt, and a maroon jacket that look like it had been through the mill, but to Jackie he looked like a million bucks.
The bartender scooped up Stan’s first empty jug and asked, “‘Nother round?”
Stan shrugged casually. It was pretty late, the two coming in after a long day, so he guessed he could handle another pair before heading back to the motel. “Sure, why not?”
The bartender nodded, finished Jackie’s rita, slid it to her, and then quickly fetched two jugs and dunked the rims in a small bowl of sugar before filling it with beer. Thank Moses for Happy Hour, Every Hour. She dropped off the two glasses and asked, “Anythang else, lovelies?”
“Nope.” Jackie answered after the two exchanged looks and she happily munched on a tortilla chip spooning salsa with extra hot sauce mixed in.
The bartender smiled and let the most sober of everyone in the bar do as they please; it was pretty late and this odd but adorable couple had come in just a few minutes ago, so while others should probably be cut off these love birds were fine for a few more drinks.
Jackie and Stan were close, but not close enough. Jackie looked at her boyfriend’s toned body again and desperately wanted to feel it, be closer, so she leaned towards him, resting her head on his shoulder, and Stan smiled and wrapped his arm around her. Jackie was grateful he was looking at the escalating football game, so he couldn’t see the stupid grin on his face.
Stan privately considered himself pretty damn lucky. Not only had he been in a town for five days without making enemies (a new record), and he actually had enough money for a room and he didn’t have to sleep in his car, but he had an amazing woman on him who not only wanted to be around him, but was willing to go anywhere in order to do so. Jackie didn’t have to travel with him across states, looking for something and nothing all at the same time, but she did. One day Stan would make it up to her. One day he would actually manage to not be a screw-up and buy her a house and her own car and give her kids and whatever else she wanted.
Unfortunately, natured called and Stan had to stretch and have Jackie sit up. “Bathroom.”
“K’.” Jackie grinned as he snuck a quick kiss on her cheek before leaving her alone, but her smile was soon gone.
Stan felt a little colder with her gone from his hip, and as he washed his hands he thought that maybe they should finish their drinks, pay the bartender, and go back to the motel so he could hold her and show her how much she meant to her, however she wanted him to. Stan grinned in the mirror at the idea and emerged from the bathroom just in time to have the color in his face drain and his heart stop at a horrifying scene.
Jackie was facing a man much bigger and bulkier than her (even a little bigger than Stan), and she punched him in the face, leaving a bruise on his face. Stan wanted to be proud, but the guy was way bigger than her and could hurt her. “JACKIE, NO!”
Jackie tried to land another punch, but her wrist was grabbed to stop her, and in retaliation the guy punched her in the face.
Stan saw red. He didn’t need context or to know what had happened for this whole mess to even occur. He didn’t care. Somebody had punched his girl.
Stan charged across the room and just as Jackie kneed the guy in the balls and shoved him away, that left an opening for Stan to pounce on him and go ham. All those years of boxing practice were paying off as he wailed on the guy left and right in the face, over the jerk as he laid on the floor and kicked Stan off of him.
In an instant, Stan spun, grabbed Jackie’s hand, and ran out of the bar with her as fast as they could for the Stanmobile, which soon made screeches against the concrete and sped away.
After a few breaths in the passenger’s seat, Jackie looked over at the conman driving and she knew her instincts were correct. The dead-pan look on his face, how tightly he held onto the wheel, the anger fuming from his spirit. He was mad. And Jackie wasn’t stupid, she knew who he was mad at. So she crossed her arms over her chest and watched the world outside zoom by.
At the motel room, Stan pulled out the first aid kit from his suitcase and pointed to the bed. “Sit.” His voice was low and cold, but not completely harsh, which was a good sign.
Jackie plopped down at the foot of the bed and Stan knelt before her, eye-level to get a good look at her face. She had a bruise forming under her eye. It was a little bit swollen, but it could have been much worse. No cuts or torn skin, which was good, so Stan walked off for the bathroom and ran a washcloth under some cool water, then came back and started to clean up the eye. Jackie closed her eyes, both as a sign of her discomfort, but to make Stan’s job a little easier.
This wasn’t the first time Jackie had gotten into a fight, and Stan knew exactly what she had been fighting about.
Jackie had her arms crossed over her blue t-shirt covered chest, silent and waiting for the lecture. Usually Jackie would let Stan rant until he was done and then make a snappy remark that would end his argument, but tonight Jackie was angry. Not like Stan was, fuming and growling and shaking. She was an icy kind of angry, the cold, distant kind of angry. (Stan was painfully reminded how that was the kind of angry his brother got.) Jackie made up her mind that tonight she was gonna say something, and she was begging for her boyfriend to pick a fight.
After cleaning her up and helping the swelling go down, Stan tossed the damp washcloth aside and stood. Here we go. “Jackie, you can’t keep gettin’ into fights!”
Jackie quit looking down at the ugly carpet and she snapped back. “He was talking shit!”
“So what?!” Stan yelled back. He had heard what that guy was spitting behind his back while he watched the game. And, believe it or not, he had chosen not to make a big deal about it. Not with Jackie there. “I hear that shit all the time! Don’t fuckin’ fight for me!”
That only made Jackie more pissed. “Well excuse me for giving a shit about you, Stan!” She screeched. “I can handle a fight, especially when they diss you!”
Jackie was startled when Stan grabbed her by her shoulders, but rather than shake her or yell at her like other men might, she was even more alarmed when his head was bowed and his whole body was quivering. The little fire inside of him was slowly dying due to lack of fuel. Jackie opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, but his voice stopped her, meek and quiet and desperate to be heard.
“Jackie… please…” He looked up at her and Jackie’s face softened to find tears in the corner of his soft brown eyes. “I don’t wanna lose you, too.”
“Hey,” Jackie whispered and slowly brought her hands to his cheeks, cupping his strained, tired face. “Hey.” She cooed softly. “Stanley, you couldn’t lose me if you tried. You’re stuck with me.”
Stan snorted and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Good.”
Jackie smiled and gently pulled him closer. “C’mere.”
Stan crawled up onto the bed and laid down as Jackie leaned back, wrapping her arms around his shoulder and placing a hand in his hair. Stan hugged her around her waist, his ear over her heart and listening to the beautiful beat. He took in some deep breaths, trying to calm down, and it was easier with her breathing to copy.
Jackie had known for a while that Stan had a crippling fear of not only heights, but of losing what little he had. He never talked about his past, but from what little Jackie had picked up from the taboo subject, he had lost everything. He wasn’t like some where they never had anything. He was like her, both of whom once had something or everything, but it was now gone. At least Jackie walked away, chose to leave what she had; she got the impression that Stan didn't have a choice.
She kissed his soft mullet and began to comb it as she whispered, “Stanley, you’re not gonna lose me. Not ever.”
“I think I’d believe you if you’d quit gettin’ into fights, sweetheart.” He joked.
Jackie rolled her eyes and chuckled.
Stan’s smile dropped. “Seriously though, if anything happened to you…”
“I can look after myself.” Jackie reminded him.
“I know you can. But you don’t have to anymore.”
“Then let me look after you, too, okay?”
“I will, but there’s a difference between helpin’ me wake up with both kidneys and gettin’ hurt all for some nobody on the street.”
“Hey,” Jackie said, this time not as soft as before, a bit more firm. Stan was reminded of a stern warning a mother might give. “You’re not a nobody. You’re my everything.”
Stan’s hold tightened ever so slightly. “And you’re mine. Which is why I need you safe.”
Jackie took in a deep breath and let it out through her button nose. She knew Stan had a point. And it was only fair. After all he gave up boxing matches for cash when he came home bloody one night and reduced Jackie to tears. She had certainly noticed how less inclined he was to fight or get into serious trouble. Sure, he had no issue stealing toilet paper or scamming suckers for an extra buck, but his Colombian prison days were far behind him.
Jackie scratched his shoulder comfortably and whispered, “Alright. I promise, no more fights. Unless they swing first.” She added cheekily.
Stan laughed quietly into her chest and nodded. “Unless they swing first.”
Just as Stan had hoped for, they laid on that bed for hours and snuggled. A few minutes after their agreement, Jackie began to hum a soft song as she continually combed his hair with her fingers. Stan smiled drowsily and was more than happy to fall asleep in the arms of the woman he loved.
~~~~~~~~~~
The young couple left Pueblo, Colorado and stopped at a little motel in Moab, Utah. It was a little bit nicer than the last room, accompanied by a small balcony with a sliding glass door to a view of the rocky red mountains and an iron and board to go with it. These made for good, cheap laundry. Just a little air freshener on the clothes and a quick run-through with the iron and as long as it didn’t have a stain any piece of clothing was as good as new, a free way to do laundry without forking some money for some quarters and some soap.
It was Stan’s turn to do the laundry, and he did so only in his boxers, standing in front of the king-sized bed as Jackie was looking out the huge window that covered most of the wall opposite to the door.
“Lee, do you think I’m pretty?”
Stan nearly burned his fingers when he looked up from his work. He had enough sense to turn off the iron and not rest it on his shirt, but just enough. Her back was to him in a baggy t-shirt (that he probably stole from him) and faded pink yoga pants. Her reflection was in the glass window and Stan not only saw how depressingly she held her hands and gazed ahead, he realized Jackie’s attention wasn’t on the view.
“Babe, what do you see?” Stan asked gently.
Jackie snorted and shook her head. “Not much.”
“That’s not what I see.” He said firmly and left the ironing board to be with her, standing behind her and tenderly wrapping his arms around her so her hands were lightly trapped to her chest. “I see everything a man could ever want in a woman.” Jackie pressed her lips together and freed a hand to hold Stan’s. But he wasn’t done.
“Eyes so deep and dark you can get lost in ‘em, skin the color of mahogany and soft as satin, a body fit for a goddess.” Stan kissed her forehead, cheek, and then neck slowly, softly. And then joined her gaze at their reflection and smiled at what he saw. “Look how beautiful you are.”
Jackie looked away as she blinked furiously, but Stan wasn’t having it. “Look,” He whispered and gently lifted her head up with his finger to her chin. “Look how beautiful you are.”
Jackie forced her tears away and turned to face her man. “Lee…”
He only grinned and held up a finger. “Ah, ah.” Stan hurried to the TV, turned it on, and flicked on the All Jazz channel. Jackie grinned as he went back to her. “Am I lucky enough to dance with everything a man could ever want?”
“Stanley,” Jackie wrapped her arms around his chest, nuzzling the side of her face into Stan’s hairy body. Her throat was still tight. She forced herself to swallow as they swayed to the music and she managed to croak out, “I love you.”
Stan kissed the top of her head and smiled, rubbing her back and squeezing her shoulder. “I love you, too.”
GF - Where the Crop Circles Grow ch.8
Summary: When things get out of hand at the Pines’ family farm, Ford asks an old college buddy to assist investigating anomalies and Stan hires a farmhand. Who knew asking for help would actually get you somewhere?
Jackie and the AU belong to @lemonfodrizzleart.
Ao3 link here.
ch.7 - ch.9
~~~~~~~~~~
Ford tapped his chin with his pen, his eyes glued to the chalkboard filled with maps and notes. He was currently in the living room, since the parlor was now too full to work in, which annoyed Stan greatly. “Sixer, can’t you keep your freaky notes in your office?” He asked bitterly as he sat in his chair, his girlfriend on his lap and reading a book.
“I’m sorry, Stanley, I’ll move it back later, but I can’t stop this train of thought right now.”
“We’ve been at this for weeks,” Fiddleford said, at the card table with Tate and coloring pictures. “Maybe we should step back n’ take a break. Let the weirdness come t’us.”
“No, we’re close, I can taste it.” Ford said through his teeth, now lightly chewing his pen.
“What are you boys looking for, anyways?” Jackie asked, closing her book.
“Stanford’s convinced there’s a safe nestin’ ground for a lot o’ weird critters somewhere in the woods.” Fiddleford explained. “An Enchanted Forest, so t’speak.”
Stan snorted, but bit it back.
“It’s out there, somewhere,” Ford muttered. “If we could just find the gnomes again…”
“Nope, don’t even think about it.” Stan interrupted.
Ford sighed and turned to his friends and family, his head low. “We may… need to ask for additional assistance.”
“Who?” Jackie asked.
Stan’s eyes widened. “Oh, man.”
“Who?” Fiddleford asked.
“I know she has a lot on her plate right now, but she’s still our friend.” Ford said to his brother. “She knows those woods better than anyone in Gravity Falls. If she could just point us in the right direction…”
“She won’t do it.” Stan said, shaking her head. “You kinda hurt her feelings, knucklehead. I guess I kinda did, too. We should just leave her alone.”
“Who?” Jackie tried a second time. “Who’s help you need?”
Ford stared at Jackie and slowly pointed at her. “Hey… you’re a girl.”
“Gee, thanks for noticing.”
“No, I mean, if you come with us, she might offer her help to you…”
“Worth a shot, I guess.” Stan shrugged. “I owe her a visit. Promised I’d help her out and I kinda sorta haven’t been doing that.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“I’m tired of soundin’ like an owl, so I won’t even ask anymore.” Fiddleford said annoyingly. “Y’all just go n’ talk to this lady feller already.”
Ford sighed once again and ran a hand through his hair. “I guess we don’t have a choice. Let’s go pay the piano store a visit.”
Jackie joined Stan and Ford in Stan’s car, riding passenger as Ford occupied the back seat. They drove down the dirt road out of the farm and through the woods to town, and they crossed the town until they were at the very edge of the woods. There stood a thick ranch-style building with a sign that said “Pianos For People” on it. Everything about the building seemed old and worn, like it was older than most buildings in town, but inside the three could see glistening pianos in the big main room, waiting to be played. On the door, a “closed” sign greeted them, it being Sunday, and so the twins led the way around the house.
Jackie saw a small flower garden of marigolds alongside the wall. There was a pile of muddy boots by the screendoor and what looked like a motorcycle under a blue tarp. The windows were covered with old white lace. Ford knocked on the door.
A few moments later and the door was opened by a dark-skinned woman about Jackie’s age. She had long black curls that were tied into a ponytail by a scrunchie, brown eyes, golden hoop earrings and bracelets, and wore a white crop-top with puffy sleeves, jeans, and socks. What might have been a warm smile turned into a bored scowl.
“Hi, it…” And the door was slammed shut, silencing Ford.
He swallowed nervously while Stan knocked again, sighing and shaking his head. A few seconds later the door opened again, only the screen door separating them, and it was the woman again. “Hephzie, don’t you recognize us?”
“Of course I do, Stan, that’s why I slammed the door in your face.” She said oddly cheerfully and leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. “Whatcha want?”
“Oh, now what makes you think we want something?” Stan asked innocently.
“Ya two only make an effort to see me when ya want somethang.”
“Okay, fair enough, but it’s kinda important.”
The woman glared at the men, debating if it was worth getting dragged to whatever they had planned, but then she looked at Jackie and a little bit of anger went away.
She smiled and stepped forward, deciding it was a good time to introduce herself. “Hi, I’m Jackie. Jackie Asante. Wow, your hair is gorgeous! What is it? 2C?”
The woman chuckled as a bit of color rose to her cheeks. “It’s actually 3B.”
“No kidding, I’m 3C.”
“Cool! Ya know, your hair is also really cute, I love the length! I’m Hephzie, ya like tea?”
“Love it!”
“Why don’t ya c’min n’ sit down? Ya’ve come quite a bit if you’re from these dunderheads’ farm.”
Jackie snorted as Hephzie opened the screendoor. “Thanks.”
The men tried to enter, but Hephzie pulled the screendoor shut with a loud thud and said, “Sorry, but if Grandpa catches ya in here he’ll tear ya limb from limb. Just wait out here.” And she let the door slam shut.
Stan kicked the dirt and then shrugged, leaning against the wall carefully as to not crush the flowers, while Ford pulled out his journal and began sketching as he sat on the clean grass.
Inside, Jackie looked around the kitchen with a dining table she had been brought into. Everything was old and worn, but in a homey sort of way. She felt comfortable. The dining table was right by the door she had come in from, and on the other side of the table was a large doorway with no door to a living room. Jackie noisily peeked in the room and saw an old couch, two rocking chairs, a radio on a tall table, and a frail-looking old lady was asleep in one of the rocking chairs with a quilt over her lap. She had long white hair that shined like moonlight, and her skin was so wrinkly and her arms were so skinny it looked like bones were painted dark-brown. Jackie quietly backed off and turned to see Hephzie at the stove, heating up a kettle full of water and then bringing down a metal container full of tea leaves, an old tea set by her side on display.
“Do ya like cream n’ sugar in your tea?” Hephzie asked.
“Just sugar, thanks.” Jackie whispered and sat at the table. She glanced at the old lady and asked, “Who is that?”
Hephzie looked at Jackie to see where she was looking and laughed. “That’s my Grandma. No need to whisper, she’ll sleep through anythang.”
“You live with your grandparents?” She asked casually.
“Mostly to help, yeah. Grandma is - for lack of a better phrase - a lot to handle, n’ Grandpa isn’t as strong n’ filled with energy as he used to be, so I’ve been helpin’ them out.”
“That’s very nice of you.” Jackie complimented.
Hephzie shrugged. “Family sticks together, right?” The kettle still wasn’t whistling, so she carried the tea set to the table and sat to chit-chat. “So how did you end up with Thang One n’ Thang Two?”
Jackie laughed a little and said, “They were hiring help on the farm. Ford’s been pretty busy with his research, so Stan needed help with the animals and the crops, and I came to town looking for a job, so here I am.”
“Hm, ya like it?”
“Love it.” There was a mixture of determination and peace in Jackie’s vice when she said that. “Every day I wake up and I’m actually excited to get outta bed. Yeah, it’s hard work, but it’s rewarding, cuz when you step back you can see the progress you’ve made and taste it in your food. Stan’s a great teacher, taught me so much and is so patient and praises me all the time.”
Hephzie smiled, resting a cheek on her knuckles, and looked to the side as she mumbled, “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”
Jackie’s smile went away for a second, a mini-vacation. “If you don’t mind me asking, what did they do that made you mad?”
Hephzie snorted and looked back at her. “I’m surprised ya believe they did somethang n’ I’m not just some angry black woman just for the sake of bein’ an angry black woman.”
Jackie chuckled, knowing the feeling, and said, “I love them, but they’re knuckleheads.”
Comfortable and knowing her emotions would be validated by her, and not just pushed to the side, Hephzie stood when she heard the kettle starting to whistle. “It’s a little petty, but after everythang I’ve done for ‘em, I’m allowed to be petty. First, did they ever mention me?”
Jackie shrugged and gave an apologetic, crooked smile. “Not until today. Then again, I haven’t been here long, only a few months.”
“Hm.” Hephzie lifted the kettle off the stove and brought it back to the table to pour it into the leaves-filled tea pot. “Well, as kids, we were best friends.”
Jackie’s eyes widened at that. Stan had always made it sound like they had no friends. “Really?”
“At least, I thought we were.” Hephzie explained. “I was a little late goin’ to school, cuz they didn’t allow black kids until I was eight-years-old, so I was a bit behind n’ of course singled-out, but Ford and Stan were also singled-out. What started as sharin’ a lunch table turned into playin’ after school at my house or in the woods. Sure, they’re twins n’ they do everythang together, but for the most part the three of us did stuff together. Builin’ tents out of sticks n’ leaves, playin’ at the lake, comin’ here to hear my grandparents play music. At one point Stan admitted that my house felt more like home than the farm.”
“Wow, so what happened?”
Hephzie shrugged. “Again, I thought we were best friends. But I guess I was wrong. When I was twelve, Grandma fell n’ had a stroke. Ever since then her mental health has gotten worse n’ worse. When I was sittin’ in their livin’ room, scared to death of losin’ the only family I ever had, they both swore to me I’d never be alone n’ that they’d help me. N’ they did for a bit, their Ma would even sometimes bring us dinner on bad days, but as we got older they decided that other thangs were more important. Ford was excited about college, Stan was hurt that his brother wanted to go, but it all worked out.
“Ford left town, n’ Stan was kinda hurt n’ lonely. He’d come by here every so often to ‘gimme a break’ no we’d go out to shoot pool or fish at the lake or whatever, but then Ford came back home n’ it was like I never existed. Ever since he came back, not one of ‘em has said a single word to me. I even wrote letters to Ford while he was at college, n’ not once did he reply. I had to play telephone with Stan to know that he was even still alive.”
Jackie sighed sympathetically, understanding what Hephzie was feeling. While Jackie was sure it was unintentional, Stan and Ford had left Hephzie behind. She even vocalized this thought to try to make Hephzie feel a little better. “I’m sorry. I’m sure they didn't mean to.”
Hephzie chuckled and shook her head. “That’s what sucks the most. It’s funny, if there’s one thang I know about the Pines twins that nobody else knows, is that they only wanna be friends when it’s convenient for them. Sure, a childhood full of bullyin’ll make them hesitate ‘bout makin’ friends, but they’ll put forth the extra effort if they need somebody, but once they get what they want, they stop tryin’ n’ don’t care anymore.” Hephzie suddenly stared at Jackie, who was looking a little nervous. “Oh! No, I’m sure… I don’t think… I didn’t mean…”
“Oh, no! No offense taken.” Jackie quickly said and sipped her tea. “I… It’s like I said, I’m sure they didn’t mean to leave you behind like that. I bet they’ll say they’re sorry and…”
“No they won’t.” Hephzie laughed harshly. “They only came here cuz they needed somethang from me, like always. They’ll take what they need n’ then get distracted n’ leave me behind again. Which, speakin’ of, what did those two knuckleheads want?”
Jackie gasped, forgetting that she was supposed to ask for a favor, but now she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. “They… Well, Stan said he owed you a visit, and Ford thinks there’s an Enchanted Forest hidden in the woods and that you know where it is.”
Hephzie laughed and sipped her tea. “Yeah, there’s an Enchanted Forest.”
“Great! So… will you show him where it is?” Jackie asked with a small smile, already knowing the answer.
“No.”
“Fair enough.”
“Thanks.”
Jackie raised an eyebrow. “For what?”
“For listenin’.” Hephzie said sincerely.
Jackie toasted her tea cup to her and said, “Hey, we gotta stick together, right sister?”
Hephzie giggled and said, “Sounds good to me. N’ hey, I like ya. If ya need a break from a house full of boys, ya c’mere n’ relax, k’?”
“Aw, thanks.” Jackie glanced at the door and stood. “Well I hate to drink your tea and go, but they’re waiting for me.”
“Yeah,” Hephzie sighed.
“Should I tell Ford you know about the Enchanted Forest?”
“Oh, for sure.” Hephzie said, standing and nodding. “Nothin’ will kill that man more than someone knowin’ somethang n’ not sharin’. Let him squirm n’ beg.” She said darkly, with a gleam in her eye that she was kidding.
Jackie laughed, admitting that it would be amusing to see Ford struggle a little, and said, “Okay, thank you Hephzie.”
“Aw, you’re welcome, sister. Have a good day!”
Jackie let herself out. Stan stood up straight and Ford quit pacing as he sketched, hurrying to Jackie. “Well?”
“She says there’s an Enchanted Forest in the woods!”
“Great!”
“But she won’t say where it is, or show you.”
Ford’s jaw dropped. “What?! Why not?!”
Jackie almost said why not, but she bit her lip, deciding that it wasn’t his business, so Jackie just shrugged.
Ford growled in his throat. “That woman, this is just like her to be a…”
“Hey, easy there, Sixer,” Stan said firmly. “You had this coming.”
“What?!” Ford gasped. “You’re taking her side?!”
“Kind of, yeah.”
“Why?!”
“Cuz we fucked up.” Stan admitted and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “We had a friend who was there through thick and thin. Who fought Crampelter off us cuz she knew he’d never hit a girl? Who showed us that shortcut through the woods from our house to the lake so we could go whenever we wanted without being caught? Heck, who helped you with your science fair project and brought snacks and coffee, the same science fair that got your college’s attention?”
“We were there for her, too…”
“Yeah, in high school.” Stan said. “When was the last time you talked to her just to talk to her? I get it, you were busy at college, but did you ever make an effort to see her during the summers or vacations? Did you even call or write her letters?”
“Well… no…”
“Well there you go.” Stan said, leading the way back to the car. “Hephzie’s got a right to be mad at us. And if she doesn’t wanna help you find some magic part of the woods, then so be it.”
“Well what about you?” Ford asked. “You always kept in contact with her. You were a better friend to her than I was, clearly.” He said bitterly and sarcastically. “Can’t you convince her to help?”
Stan shrugged shamefully. “I’ll admit it, I only ever hung out with her when I was bored. Which happened a lot when you were gone, but…”
Jackie was tempted to say that Stan was right on the money, to admit that that was the core reason why Hephzie wouldn’t help, but she decided not to. The boys needed to come to this conclusion on their own; plus Hephzie was a woman, not a telephone.
“Bottom line, looks like you and Fidds are just gonna have to find that Enchanted Forest on your own.” Stan concluded and got into his car, leaving Ford to sigh in defeat and get in the passenger’s seat.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ford debated with himself if he should try harder to convince Hephzie to assist him just this one time. He tried to milk all he could out of Jackie on what exactly Hephzie said and why exactly she refused to help him, but she was firm and hardly gave him anything to work with. He supposed he could bribe her or try to make amends, but Jackie did remind him that Hephzie was mad that Ford only made an effort to see her because he wanted something from her, so he figured apologizing or showering her with attention or gifts wouldn’t do much good.
No, as much as Ford didn’t like to delay his research, he and Fiddleford would have to continue to search for the Enchanted Forest by themselves.
A few days later and Ford was at the grocery store to pick up a few things. He was using this alone-time to think of where to search in the woods next for the Enchanted Forest, which proved to be unwise, as he almost bumped into someone. “Oh, sorry…” He looked up and he stared to find Hephzie trying to get into his lane with a buggy full of items, clearly towards the end of a huge grocery trip, quite opposite to his short trip.
Hephzie was silent, looking away and walking past him. Ford watched her go, bit his lip, and followed her to where she was picking cans of beans. “I… How are your grandparents?”
“Alive.” Hephzie said coldly, not looking at him.
Ford looked away and said quietly, “I’m happy to hear that.”
Hephzie blinked and looked at him sadly. “I’m sorry, Stanford, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Ford sighed and shook his head. “I know you didn’t. I… I would have liked for you to be there.”
Hephzie’s sympathetic frown turned into an ugly scowl. “I was there. Both times.”
Ford blinked, truly confused. “Were you?”
“Yes, I was.” Hephzie dropped the cans into her buggy coldly and crossed her arms over her chest. “I came for your father’s funeral alone cuz Grandpa said he’d dance on his grave for the way he treated y’all if he came. Grant it, I was tempted to, but… N’ we all came to Ma’s funeral.”
“I… I didn’t know…”
“Ya were preoccupied.” Hephzie said and started to walk away.
But Ford followed her to try to talk some more. “As was I during college…”
“Too busy to write a letter?”
“Hephzibah, I must have started a hundred letters, but I could never manage to finish one.”
“A nice ‘I don’t hate ya’ would’ve been nice.”
Ford blinked. “I don’t hate you.” He said plain as day. “I could never hate you.”
“Well ya got a funny way of showin’ it.” Hephzie said coldly, still avoiding looking at him and trying to finish her grocery shopping.
The young scientist sighed in defeat and nodded. “I admit it, I did a poor job of staying in contact. I’m sorry. I really am.”
“I don’t wanna hear it.” Hephzie snapped, stopping at the bread to pick a loaf. “Ya don’t mean it. Ya just want my help with your stupid research. N’ then what? Gonna forget me again until ya want somethang else?”
“No, of course…”
“Don’t give me that crap, Ford.” Hephzie put some bread on top of her pile and said as she walked away, “Just leave me alone.”
“Hephzibah, please,” Ford followed her, determined to say one last thing. “Truth be told, I don’t need you. I don’t need your help. If I must, I can find the Enchanted Forest on my own…”
“Oh, you’re just as big a jerk as I remember ya to be!” Hephzie yelled as she picked up her pace to try to get away, but Ford ran and turned his buggy to block her from getting away.
“Let me finish!” Ford begged. “I don’t need you, but I want you! I… I want my friend back.”
Hephzie looked surprised at this, but scowled with her teeth together. “I don’t believe you.”
“Then what can I do to prove it to you?” Ford asked.
“Nothin’.” Hephzie said coolly. “Ya just don’t get it, don’t ya? Ya hurt me, Stanford. What, did I say or do somethang that made ya hate me?”
“No…”
“Really? Cuz after…”
“No, that wasn’t…”
“... ya promised we could still be friends.” Hephzie said, her anger fading for the first time, and Ford got a clear picture of how sad and hurt he was. “Ya promised, remember? I asked ya if thangs could go back to the way they were before, n’ ya said they could. Ya promised that we were still friends if nothin’ else, but then ya never talked to me again. Ya didn’t even leave for college right away! Ya were home for another month, n’ ya didn’t talk to me then!”
“I… I couldn’t.” Ford stuttered, ears and cheeks pink as he became flustered. “I was… I felt… I…” Words failed him. He bit his lip and looked away, trying to think of how to vocalize his thoughts, but was failing.
Hephzie sighed tiredly and backed up her buggy to turn away. “Ya clearly only want me around when ya want somethang. I’m tired, Ford. I’m tired of expectin’ ya to be a good friend n’ gettin’ hurt when you’re not. Please, leave me alone.”
“You… You say I only want you around when I want something.” Ford repeated woefully. “What if that something I want is you?”
Hephzie snorted darkly with her back to him. “Yeah right.”
“Hephzibah, I swear, I…”
“Save it. Just try not to kill yourself out there, k’?” And Hephzie walked away and turned into an aisle to be out of view.
Ford, alone, combed a hand through his hair and blinked a few times to compose himself. A picked up his last few items, thinking about what they had just talked about. Like Stan, he was willing to admit that he had failed Hephzie and got what he deserved. He had hurt Hephzie. No wonder she wanted nothing to do with him.
Stan had simply gotten caught up in his own life and accidentally revealed a pattern. Hephzie might forgive that, anyone might. Life gets in the way, people get busy, but friends are still friends. But Ford had done something that had really hurt Hephzie’s feelings, and he didn’t blame her one bit for wanting to create distance in order to avoid getting hurt again.
He was so overcome with thoughts that he didn’t recognize Hephzie right away at the checkout line. Her groceries were being run up on Line 2 while Ford was behind two people at Line 4. He watched her sadly, wondering if this would be the last time he would see her, when he noticed something. Hephzie was watching the cashier nervously. No, wait, she was watching the numbers nervously. Her wallet was in her hands, one hand counting her money. Ford was sympathetic; her family had always been significantly poorer than Ford’s family, especially as kids.
It looked like Hephzie might have just enough money, but then the medicines for her grandparents were rung up, and she winced and sighed as the cashier read off her total. “Okay, um… I’m sorry, but I have to put this back. And this. Um… I guess I don’t really need this…”
Ford watched as Hephzie had to pick groceries not to bring home. Things like crackers, peanut butter, broccoli, and other foods that were necessary, but either slightly more expensive or not as needed. Ford felt sorry for her and her family as she paid for the groceries and left.
Deciding to help her, even if they weren’t on the best of terms, Ford went to Line 2 after checking out on Line 4 and bought every item Hephzie had to put back. Of course, she was long gone by the time he exited the store, but he found it easier to quickly drive to the piano store, drop the two bags off on the doorstep, and knock and run before he could get caught.
Hephzie had half a mind who provided the groceries her grandfather found on the doorstep, and she was tempted to throw them in the trash, but mostly she just went into her room and tried not to cry over that jerk Stanford Pines. Again.
GF - Where the Crop Circles Grow ch.1
Summary: When things get out of hand at the Pines’ family farm, Ford asks an old college buddy to assist investigating anomalies and Stan hires a farmhand. Who knew asking for help would actually get you somewhere?
For @lemonfodrizzleart. Part of her Farmer AU and featuring her OC, Jackie Asante.
Ao3 link here.
ch.2
~~~~~~~~~~
“Jackie, was it?” Stan repeated as he rocked in his chair, the shade feeling comfortable with the warm summer’s day baking everything that dared to escape air conditioning.
“Yes, sir.” The woman repeated. Her ankles were crossed as she sat in her rocking chair, her hands on her lap. Nerves hindered her normal behavior; Never in a million years would she sit like this, unless she really wanted a job and wanted to impress her potential employer.
The man in a gray t-shirt (it might have been white at some point), dirty jeans, and boots raised an eyebrow at her and waved the response away with a strong hand. “First off, there’s no need for all that sir-stuff, okay? I ain’t that old.”
Jackie let out a good-natured snort and smiled more relaxed. “Okay.” She sat a little bit more relaxed, now one knee over the other, and she rocked a little in her blue-jeans, white t-shirt, and light-purple jacket, the bottoms of the side tied together and her sleeves rolled up.
Stan looked at her, reading her as if she was a book, and he instantly knew he would like her. Something in the sparkle in her dark eyes, something in the way she held herself up promised the whole world that she was way more capable than what people initially believed and she was going to rub it in their faces.
Okay, now that he got that out of the way, what was he supposed to do now? Sixer probably had a pamphlet full of things to do or a check-list in his brain of what to ask her, but that genius got distracted by some new freaky thing and ran off into the woods, but not without telling Stan to interview the potential farmhand. Why’d he have to do this? It was all Sixer’s idea. While a farmhand was probably a good idea, Stan would’ve hoped they could save the dough by making Ford and his friend from college work, but both brothers knew that wasn’t going to happen. Well, she was here. Might as well get her a drink.
“Want a soda or somethin’?” Stan asked as he stood and stretched his arms over his head, his shirt stretched tightly over his gut and strong chest.
Jackie shrugged with a smile and stood. “Sure, thanks.”
Stan waved towards himself casually, signalling her to follow him, and he led the way inside the house. Jackie followed him and allowed herself to take in the space without being too nosy. In front of the doorway was a big living room with a yellow-plaid couch and matching armchair, a card table, a wood-burning stove, and even a TV. An owl-themed tick-tock clock hooted the time (11:00am) with eleven wheezy hoots. Stan led the way to the left, the opposite direction of the stairs leading up to the second floor, and into the kitchen.
Jackie’s face flinched a little bit at the state of the room, a big mess all over the table and every square inch of counter decorated with books, food, and dirty dishes. Jackie stood at the doorway and couldn’t help but notice a picture of a family hanging by her head. A man with a straw hat and sunglasses stood tall and strong behind his family, while his wife sat with a set of twins in her arms, hugging them with a big smile. A third boy, about three years older than the twins, smiled in front of the father and besides the mother.
“Well, this here’s the kitchen.” Stan narrated pointlessly to fill the air, stealing Jackie from her thoughts. His head was in the fridge but he soon emerged with two glass bottles of Pitt soda. He even popped one open for Jackie before giving it to her. “Livin’ room’s just by the door, then past the stairs is two bedrooms, one’s a master with a bathroom, and then upstairs is the attic and two more bedrooms.”
“Nice place.” Jackie complimented.
“Thanks.” Stan said after a sip of soda. “Pa left it to me and my brother. We got another brother, Shermie, but he’s workin’ for a bank in California. Got a kid now and everythin’.”
“Ah, somebody’s an uncle.” The dark-skinned woman commented with a smile.
Stan grinned proudly and seemed to have straightened his stance just a little bit. “Yup. Anyways, what made you wanna work here?”
Jackie shrugged. “I’ve always liked the fresh air n’ workin’ hard. My mama used to say sittin’ still’s a sin.”
Stan smiled in agreement. He was right; he liked this girl. “Okay, so what can you do?”
Jackie took a second to think of what she can do that applies to a farm. Really, in her mind the list kept growing. She couldn’t think of a single thing she couldn’t do if she really tried, so she gave him a sly smile and said, “Anythang.”
Stan barked a laugh and freed a finger from holding the bottle to point at her. “I like your style! Alright, so how much you want a month?”
“Eight-hundred.”
Stan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think that’s a little high?” Not that he was worried; he liked to negotiate.
“Don’t you think I need enough to rent a place?” Jackie returned.
Stan snorted. “If you’re looking for a place to stay, we’ve got three… well, two bedrooms we aren’t usin’. You could stay with us rent-free for cheaper pay.”
“Well how much you willin’ to fork over?”
Stan grinned. Yup, he liked her. He wasn’t going to lose such a promising worker. “Five-hundred a month.”
“Deal.” Jackie held out a hand to shake.
Stan grasped it and shook. “Then you’re hired. You can have tomorrow to move in and…”
“No, I can start work tomorrow.” Jackie insisted. “Just give me this afternoon.”
Stan grinned. “Alright, fine. You’ll start first thing in the mornin’ tomorrow. You’ll know when. Go get what you need and I’ll show you your room and give you the full tour of the farm. There’s a stable and chicken coop and barn and fields full of work, as you saw comin’ in. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
Stan exited the kitchen, giving Jackie a good look at the dirty kitchen. She sneered playfully to herself, “I can see that,” and followed her new boss out of the house.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ford was tired, but satisfied with his success. He collapsed into a rocking chair on the porch and glanced down at the photos in his hands; that polaroid Stanley got him for Hanukkah was being used well. It was so rare to get pictures of the floating eyes so crystal clear, mostly only seeing them at night, but these were lurking in the shadows of the overgrown trees and bush of the woods, and by sheer luck and perfect timing on Ford’s part, he got what he wanted.
The six-fingered investigator pulled out his journal from his messenger bag and bookmarked a page to fill out later with the photos. As he closed the book and became lost in thought at the sight of his golden handprint, the screen door opened and Stanley poked his head in. “Hey, dinnertime, nerd.”
“Coming,” Ford said as his brother left and he got to his feet, suddenly very hungry and ready to eat so he could finish his work for today.
While Stanley sat in a chair, rubbed his hands together, and smacked his lips at the table, Ford stood at the doorway with his jaw hanging like an executed criminal. Laid out on the big table in the kitchen was a plate full of fried chicken, collard greens, a skillet of cornbread, mashed potatoes with cheese, and unless Ford’s nose was playing tricks on him, there was something made of chocolate in the oven. Even more surprising than the mouth-watering meal was the stranger in the house.
Untying a long apron, a dark-skinned woman with short black hair was standing by the hooks on the walls for keys and hats. She smiled as she hung her apron up and said, “Wash up, Mr. Pines. Oh, excuse me. Dr. Pines.” She added playfully.
Ford snorted. Apparently Stanley already told her about his twelve PhDs. “Please, call me Ford, ma’am.” He requested as he went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. “Let me guess… you decided to hire Ms. Jackie Asante, Knucklehead?”
“You make it sound like it’s a bad idea.” Stan quipped as Jackie sat in the chair on his right. He threw her a wink, which her eyes sparkled at.
“Quite the contrary, considering she clearly sees fit to celebrate Thanksgiving any day of the year.” Ford said as he sat in the chair across the table from his twin.
Jackie smiled with hot cheeks and shrugged. “Clearly you’ve been starving out here. Well, you can forget TV dinners and take-out for awhile. At least not while I’m breathing.”
“Now hold up, take-out’s delicious.” Stan defended as he brought a chicken leg up to his lip and bit down with a beautiful crunch. His eyes grew wide and he sagged in relief and delight. He munched on his chicken happily and managed to wheeze out between bites. “Fuck take-out.”
“Stanley,” Ford scolded lightly before trying his dinner, but he was amazing and started mumbling swears like a sailor.
Meanwhile, Jackie grinned proudly into her cup of water and started to cut up the cornbread. Maybe getting this job was a good idea after all.
GF - Where the Crop Circles Grow ch.6
Summary: When things get out of hand at the Pines’ family farm, Ford asks an old college buddy to assist investigating anomalies and Stan hires a farmhand. Who knew asking for help would actually get you somewhere?
For @lemonfodrizzleart. Part of her Farmer AU and featuring her OC, Jackie Asante.
Ao3 link here.
ch.5 - ch.7
~~~~~~~~~~
Jackie was wide awake a good hour before the sun would rise, before Clock would wake the whole house, and yet she didn’t have the strength to get out of bed. Her mind was swimming with so many thought she felt like she was drowning.
Last night she had sex with Stanley Pines, her employer and friend. What the hell was she thinking?! She was thinking he was beautiful and smart and kind and everything she had ever wanted she just wanted to hold him forever, and thus it resorted to her losing her white dress to hay and walking out of a barn in Stan’s shirt and being caught red-handed by Ford and Fiddleford. (Thank God Tate was asleep and didn’t ask questions; if he had been awake Jackie probably would’ve killed herself.)
Her mind replayed what Stan had said to her before they got busy. He seemed to have meant those nice things he said to her, not just saying it to get her to undress. Jackie was a pretty decent reader of character, so okay, at the absolute very least Stan liked her. He wasn’t going to kick her out or dump her. But did he want to do it again? She knew she wanted to at some point, but…
Jackie groaned and laid on her stomach as she buried her face in her pillow. Really, would it be the end of the world if they were together? Probably not, but did Stan even want that? Jackie wanted to think so, but a small voice in the back of her mind told her he only saw her as an employee with benefits and to not get her hopes up. And of course there were the other men in the house. Ford was mortified when he discovered what they had done, but Jackie considered that it was only because he did not want to think about his twin having sex. Fiddleford, who had been married and even had a son, seemed a little too understanding and supportive. Jackie didn’t think she could stand to see their faces today, so she made up her mind to get up now, do her chores quickly before anyone else woke up, and lock herself in her room until dinner.
While the coffee pot brewed, Jackie quickly mixed together some simple blueberry muffins. While they baked in the oven, she quickly fed the chickens and watered the sheep and let them out onto the field. By the time she re-entered the kitchen the muffins were perfect and she let them cool while she tidied the sheep’s barn and gave them fresh hay. Jackie had just fixed her mug of coffee and plated herself two muffins when she heard footsteps and she hurried into her bedroom to indulge in a book.
It took a hot shower and a few sips of coffee for Stan to realize what Jackie had done. He laughed at himself to find the morning chores done and an easy breakfast laid out on the table. Shaking his head, he happily munched on a muffin on his way to the big barn to milk Luna and brush Truffles and he decided that he would check on her later.
~~~~~~~~~~
As the day wore on, as the sun crept higher and higher up the sky, dark clouds drifted into the scenery and hid the sun. Ford and Fiddleford had just enough time to retrieve their cameras so they could spend the rainy afternoon developing the photos in the thinking parlor before it started pouring down. It never escalated into thunder and lightning, but it was a merciless rain that kept the animals sleeping inside their barns and nests, but thankfully the lack of wind made it okay to sit on the porch and watch the rain, and that’s what Stan did until he fell asleep in his chair.
That left the four-year-old to snuggle up with a blanket on the couch and watch TV, but nothing good was on. Tate huffed and turned it off to try to think of what to do so he wouldn’t be bored no more. He could read a book, but he had done that yesterday. He could play with his toys in his room, but he didn’t feel like it. He wanted to get up and move, but it was raining too hard to play outside, Daddy said so when he came back with Uncle Ford with the cameras, so Tate decided he would do exploring.
He liked this house. It was big but not too big and it felt like home. He really liked it here, and though he knew it wasn’t good to be a sneaky peaky spy, Daddy and Uncle Ford and Uncle Stan and Auntie Jackie never got mad. Tate knew what most of the room were and where most doors led to, but there was one in the hallway that he didn’t know where it led to, so Tate opened it and he beamed to find raincoats, a vacuum, and a box of board games on the floor so Tate could reach.
Tate grinned and decided to pick a game to play. Maybe Daddy would wanna play, or when Uncle Stan wakes up he would wanna play. There was a small box of cards on the top of the stack; Tate thought it would be a good idea to play Go Fish. Tate saw Connect Forty-Four, Don’t Wake Stalin, Battle Chutes and Ladder Ships, but the game on top of the stack and right below the cards a game caught Tate’s eye. He liked the big red dragon behind the funny looking wizard, some kinda monster with big lips, and the pretty elf with the unicorn, all above a table of people playing the game.
Take picked up the green box and smiled. He was only four, but Daddy taught him how to read, so he could read the game and the rules. It looked like fun!
Meanwhile, Ford stretched his arms over his head and left the thinking parlor for a drink of water and possibly a snack. He looked down the hall and smiled when he found Tate in front of the closet where they kept the board games, holding a box he found intriguing. “Hello, Tate,” Ford said and walked up to him.
“Hi, Uncle Ford!” Tate piped and looked up at him and showed him the box in his hands. “Lookie what I found!”
Ford instantly recognized the well-used fantasy-talking, level-counting, statistics and graph-paper involved game from college and grinned. “Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons! That’s my favorite game in the whole Multiverse! I used to play with your father and some other fans of the game back in Backupsmore.”
“Can we play it now?” Tate asked.
Ford held his cleft chin in thought and smiled down at his best friend’s son. Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons was usually a complex and thoughtful game; you had to have a prepared Quest Master for starters, create a character and fill out a character-sheet, and use math and statistics a bit too advanced for the average four-year-old, but Tate wasn’t the average four-year-old. Ford knew he wasn’t good with kids and so he had somewhat kept his distance, but Fiddleford had often said the two were very similar and Ford was quicker to notice the similarities between the father and son, so Ford shrugged and got on one knee to be eye-level with the boy. He might not know much about kids, but he did know a lot about this. “Yes, I suppose we can play. This game involves both math and imagination, so I’m sure someone was intelligent as you will love it.”
Tate grinned at the compliment and watched Ford grab a black backpack from the closet’s shelf and then followed him to the living room to play on the card table. Luckily Ford had what he needed to be a Quest Master and knew the game well enough for the job, so he let Tate use a basic character to learn how to play and to see if he would like it. Ford looked out for any sign that the boy wasn’t having fun, but Tate took to it like a fish to water. The minute he learned he had to fill out a character sheet to play for real, he begged to fill one out and Ford happily showed him how to roll the dice and earn his character’s traits and skill-set.
Soon Ford had Tate the elf go on a magical quest. Tate found a dungeon by a river when he used his sword to cut away some plants, and Tate now had to battle boody-traps and devious gremlins to win the game. Ford started to roll dice in a normal manner, but after a while he reverted to his unique way: weaving the dice in between his fingers and picking it back up with his thumb, starting the cycle all over again. Tate nearly lost his mind and demanded to see it again. With hot cheeks, Ford happily showed the boy his little trick and Tate instantly tried to do it, too, but Ford chuckled and explained that it took lots of practice, and then it was back to the game.
“Alright, you enter the chamber.” Ford narrated, in his element, with the models in front of him and his guide for what to do, determined on what Tate rolled. Tate decided that he liked the way Uncle Ford told stories. “Princess Unattainable beckons you, but wait! It’s a trap!” Tate gasped in horror as Ford wiggled his twelve fingers and imitated an evil grin. “An illusion cast by Probabilitor the Annoying!”
“Oh no!” Tate yelled and shook the dice in his combined fists. “I’ll get him with my sword!”
“Hold on, he only has one weakness.” Ford chuckled. “Prime statistical anomalies over 37 but exceeding 51.”
“Oh. Isn’t an anomaly a weird thingy in the woods?”
Ford laughed; of course this kid would first associate the word with Ford and Fiddleford’s field research. “Yes, but… okay, okay, here’s what you do. You see the dice with 38 sides? Roll that with these two, and then I’ll roll these three, and then we get to do some math to see who wins.”
“Yay! Math!” Tate quickly rolled his three dice and Ford rolled his. Ford even took the time to show Tate on his notepad why you should add certain numbers together, and it looked like Tate barely beat Probabilator’s illusion. “Yes! I did it!”
“Good job!” Ford said and ruffled Tate’s hat. “You’ve Probabilitor on the ropes! Now…”
“Oh ho, so this is where you disappeared to.”
“Hi Daddy!” Tate said happily as Fiddleford stood at the doorway, smiling and amused by the scene before him. “Uncle Ford’s teachin’ me how t’play Dungeons, Dungeons n’ More Dungeons n’ be an elf n’ kick Probabilitor’s butt!”
Fiddleford raised an eyebrow at his old college roommate, his smile still standing. “You dug out that old game, then?”
“More like your son was nosy and I couldn’t resist teaching him a trick or two.” Ford answered with a chuckle and ruffled Tate’s hat to show there were no hard feelings.
“Ugh, are you serious?” Tate and Ford looked over to find that Stan had returned, rubbing his eyes with his fists, awoken by the sounds of dorks. “You’re teaching squirt that nerd game?”
“It’s not a nerd game, Stanley, you would like it if you gave it a chance.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I prefer to do my dice rolling in Vegas.”
“C’mon, Uncle Stan, don’tcha wanna play?” Tate asked and smiled up at him. “You’re always a lot of fun to play with! You can even pick the weapon I get Probabilitor with!”
Stan couldn’t hide the blush in his face. Before he could answer, Jackie walked behind Stan swiftly for a drink of water, but Tate saw her and quickly said, “Auntie Jackie’ll play, won’t you?”
Jackie jumped and darted her eyes all over the room. She ignored Stan and Fiddleford’s smug looks and tried to piece together what the boy wanted. “Um… what?”
“Dungeons, Dungeons, n’ More Dungeons.” Tate explained and even held up the box’s lid for her. “Can’t we all play together, pwease pwease pwease?” He begged, and even puckered his bottom lip out a little bit to sweeten the deal.
Jackie smiled sympathetically as she exchanged facial expressions with the adults. It wasn’t fair to Tate that there was no one his age to play with or to keep him company. While he had never once complained, it meant a lot of his free time was spent playing alone or helping with chores just so he had somebody to talk to. Just for one afternoon, it couldn’t hurt to give in and do this one thing the child clearly desperately wanted.
“I don’t see why not.” She said with a shrug. “Never played, but I’ve heard good things about it. Why don’t I pop some popcorn and make hot chocolate for a snack?”
“Great idea!” Fiddleford backed up. “I’ll go get my old character sheet!”
“Alright, Stanley come here and I’ll help you create your character.”
“Ugh, do I gotta be some sparkly elf or something?”
“No, you can be whatever you want to be. An ogre, a fairy, a centaur…”
“You had me at ogre! I’m gonna have my own swamp and kick out any annoying fairytale creatures!”
Later that evening, after all the characters had been set and the game was ready to begin, the card table became too filled to function, so everything was laid out on the floor and everyone sat in pajamas and snacked on bowls of popcorn, pretzels, chipackcerz, and mugs of hot chocolate. Clipboards for the players’ character sheets, colorful dice, and notepads also littered the living room, and as the room was lit with candles and the wood-burning fireplace to give it a spooky feel, Ford happily narrated his players through the game. “After your victory against the clan of goblins, you rest at a pub…”
“I’m gonna flirt with the barmaid to get some free drinks!” Stan declared and rolled a 38 sided die; once he understood that this game involved more risk and imagination than math, he started to warm up to it, and though he would never admit it, he had fun playing pretend.
Ford chuckled and looked down at the die. “You’re successful! The barmaid is charmed by your smooth words and strong stature, and slides you a free drink, but unfortunately your score isn’t high enough to earn everyone else a drink. Your players need to recharge from battle, so everyone needs to pay one gold coin for fuel.”
“Imma get chocolate milk!” Tate cheered as he changed the amount of gold he had in his bag on his character sheet.
“Okay, everyone roll your 12 sided die.” Once all the dice were still, Ford winced at the score and said with a devilish smile, “Your cheerfulness over your victory has caught the attention of your worst, and most annoying, enemy: Probabilitor the Annoying!”
“Dang it!” Stan yelled as he popped a piece of gum into his mouth.
“He’s accompanied by his trusty eagle, perfect for capturing victims, a hot elf, and his head ogre. Seeking revenge for taking down his army of goblins, Probabilitor attacks the pub with…” Ford rolled his dice. “... a math ray! Everyone roll your D-38.”
While Stan rolled a 32 and Tate rolled a 28, Fiddleford rolled a 17 and Jackie rolled a 2. “What!?” She shrieked, having been earning low numbers the entire game. “Stan, did you load my dice!?”
“Aw, c’mon, missy,” Stan laughed. “I wouldn’t cheat… okay, but not at a nerd game. It ain’t worth my best tricks.”
“While Goldie and Tate dodged the math ray in time, Hadron and Drizzle are hit, Drizzle left weak while Hadron almost made it to safety. The eagle takes advantage and takes them in his talons, following Probabilitor into the sky as the ogre and hot elf ride on the large bird’s back. Goldie, Tate, what do you do?”
“We go after them!” Tate declared.
“What happens if we don’t?” Stan asked.
“Probabilitor will eat their brains. It’s his thing.” Ford answered.
“Fine, guess we’ll go on another quest.” Stan ruffled Tate’s hat, the two paired into a team, and Ford had them set off into the woods for their team members.
“Alright, meanwhile at the campsite,” Ford went on. “Hadron and Drizzle are tied to a tree while the hot elf readies the brain-cooking pot.”
“Hold on, ain’t there a way we can escape?” Fiddleford asked. “It’s only rope, n’ I got my dagger, remember. If it’s in my belt by my hip…”
“Good ingenuity, let’s give it a try.” Ford cleared his throat and reread the rules to make sure it was fair. “Probabilitor, distracted by picking garnishes for your brains, doesn’t notice that Hadron has a weapon he can use without his hands. Roll your D-12, you have to get a 10 or higher to be successful.”
Fiddleford blew into his fists for good luck and let his D-12 go, but then slapped his forehead and winced at the 8.
“You managed to cut some of the binding holding you and Drizzle captive, but your dagger falls from your belt and lands on the grass and out of reach. Before Drizzle can even try to get it back with her foot, Probabilitor returns to do some more annoying dragging about how he’s going to eat you.”
“If I get my eight-year-old character killed over this, Imma lose it.” Fiddleford joked; there was no way he was going to die like this, right? Right?!
“Ugh, if my hands were free I’d break every part of his face.” Jackie growled.
“Oh ho, Probabilitor is so annoying he has even invoked the wrath of the peaceful druid elf.” Ford chuckled. “Helpless for the time being, it’s up to Goldie and Tate to save them, but first they must travel through the woods and reach the campsite.”
“Okay!” Tate cheered and punched the air, ready to beat up some bad guys.
“You two are getting close to your destination, you can tell by the frequent fairy bites. When suddenly your path is blocked by a huge ogre, armed with an axe!”
“Aw, come on, Manly Dave, I thought we were cool.” Stan said sarcastically and the whole room laughed.
“‘Halt!’ Dave the Ogre says.” Ford was using a deeper, gritter voice for the ogre, making Tate grin as the narrator had a way of making the story come to life. “‘You interlopers are trespassing on the ancient forest of Probabilitor the Wizard! If ye wish to pass, first ye must complete seven unworldly quests, each more difficult than the last…’”
“I bonk him over the head with my bat!” Stan interrupted.
“Okay, one, you have a club, not a bat, Stanley,” Ford explained for the uptheenth time. “And second, you can’t…”
“Sure I can! Our team members are gonna be dead soon, we don’t have time for seven stupid quests! So I use nature’s snooze button and bonk him over the head!” Stan argued and shook his dice in his fist.
“Fine, roll your D-38…” The room gasped as Stan rolled a 36. Ford, chuckling with disbelief, said, “You bonk your club on the ogre’s head and it knocks him out cold. He’s not dead, but he won’t be walking for a long time.”
“There’s no cops in the forest.” Stan hissed to Tate. “We take this to our graves.”
The boy actually pushed his hat and bangs back to show Uncle Stan his trusty wink, making the whole room laugh.
“Very well! You are approaching the campsite!” Ford narrated with wiggling fingers. “As Goldie and Tate hide in the bushes, Probabilitor tackles.” Ford cleared his throat and made the wheeziest, annoying voice he could muster, causing Jackie to snort and cover her mouth to keep from spitting out soda. “‘And now, a little math problem! When I subtract your brains from your skulls, add salt, and divide your team, what’s the remainder?’”
“YOUR BUTT!” Tate cried out.
“‘What?!’” Ford wheezed. “‘My butt isn’t part of this particular equation!’” The whole room laughed loudly and Ford had to wait for everyone to calm down before continuing. “Though your insult may have been funny, your cover is blown. Goldie and Tate now have no choice but to battle Probabilitor for the lives of Hadron and Drizzle!”
“Yup, we’re dead.” Fiddleford said and pulled out a clean character sheet. “Better start creatin’ a new character.”
“Hey! We’ve got this, right squirt?” Stan asked as he wrapped an arm around Tate.
“Yeah!”
“Let the battle begin!” Ford placed two small figures of ogres and said, “The ogres swing first! Roll your D-38s to dodge!” Ford rolled a 13 while Stan rolled a 14.
“Goldie uses a… Shield of Shielding to, you know, shield Goldie and Tate!” Stan made up.
“Probabilitor casts a reversal spell, and…” Ford rolled a 15. “... is successful. The shield disintegrates. The ogres attack! Now you can choose to attack or…”
“Oh! Giggle time bouncy boots!” Tate yelled out. “To jump over the meanie’s heads!” Both Ford and Tate rolled, but Tate’s was higher.
“The boots work!” Ford said. “Goldie and Tate bounce to safety, missing the axes and clubs by the skin of their noses.”
“Now they use flamey swords… no! SUPER hot flamey swords!” Tate declared, getting really excited. The boy rolled a 21, Stan rolled an 18, and Ford rolled a 2.
“Incredible luck!” Ford gasp. “Your swords are so powerful they destroy the ogres in an instant!” And he swiped up the little figures. “‘Drat you!’ Probabilitor screeches. ‘You’ll never outrun my Ogre-nado!’” And Ford rolled a 30.
“Yes we will!” Tate said and hopped up on his feet, shaking the die hard. “Centaur-taur will swoop in and save Tate and Goldie!” And Tate rolled a 32.
“A what?” Fiddleford chuckled.
“A Centaur-taur.” Tate repeated and showed a drawing he had made last night when thinking of weapons and characters. It was both horrifying and impressive.
“Tate, I am so confused n’ so proud right now.” Fiddleford said thickly with shiny blue eyes.
“The Centaur-taur dashes just in time and carries Goldie and Tate to the thick of the trees, where the ogre-nado is broken and destroyed. Goldie and Tate rush back to try to free Hadron and Drizzle, but Probabilitor’s score is still too high to be defeated.” Ford rolls his D-4, D-12, and D-38 to determine which of Probabilitor’s spells or minions to use; the Quest Master’s eyes widened as this specific combination of numbers meant he had to use the most powerful monster is all of Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons.
Ford grinned sheepishly, and narrates slowly for suspense, “You think all is well and good, but Probabilitor was saving the worst for last. Just before Goldie and Tate reach their team members, they’re grabbed by a huge claw with three fingers and are faced with a mouth inside of a mouth and a fiery red eye.” And Ford slammed down the biggest statue they had.
Fiddleford gasped. “The Impossi-Beast! I thought they banned this character!” He argued.
Ford shrugged. “Sorry, but this is the original 1972 version. They didn’t ban the Impossi-Beast until the second version, released in 1975.”
“It’s okay, we’ll just think of some cool weapons…”
“Ya don’t understand, son.” Fiddleford said as he gripped the boy’s shoulder. “He’s so powerful that he can only be defeated by rolling a perfect 38! If not, then we all lose our characters!”
“Rollin’ a 38?!” Tate gasped. “The odds are…”
“Hey, long odds are what you want when you’re a world-class gambler!” Stan said and took up his D-38. “C’mon, c’mon… Papa needs a new pair of… elves!” And he let go of the D-38.
Tate held onto Stan’s arm as it rolled across the floor. Fiddleford’s knees were bouncing despite being criss-cross. Jackie had her hands in her hair. Ford bit his lip, wanting his first quest with the team to be a success. The little blue die looked like it might fall on 1, but at the last second it balanced perfectly on that beautiful 38.
“WHAT?!”
Tate jumped up and down as he cheered and punched the air. “YES! Yes, yes, yes! We won! We won!”
“What do you say, buddy?” Stan asked.
“DEATH BY MUFFINS!”
“Goldie and Tate then throw magical Death Muffins into the Impossi-Beast’s mouth!” Ford narrated. “The monster explodes and Probabilitor is powerless and pathetic as always. But keeping true to his name, he annoyingly disappears into a cloud of math, promising to be back for another journey, but for now Drizzle and Hardon are free, and Goldie and Tate are upgraded to level 2 and earn twenty pieces of gold.”
“YAY!” Tate quickly scribbled down the changes on his character! “Can we go on another adventure?! Maybe we’ll find a dragon this time! I wanna try to get a Trust Arrow!”
“Unfortunately that’s all I had plan for now.” Ford held his chin and gave it some more thought. “I suppose I could…”
“Not so fast, Sixer, that’s enough nerd-game for me.” Stan stretched his arms over his head. “Ole Goldie over here’s ready for some mindless fun.”
“How about a movie?” Jackie asked and looked under the TV for the box of VCR tapes. “We’ve got The Voyages of Lionclothiclese: Clash of the Genres.”
“Oo! Put it in!”
“I haven’t seen that movie in years!” Fiddleford said excitedly as his son sat in his lap up on the couch.
Ford moved up to the couch and allowed Jackie to put the tape in the machine and soon the TV lit up with the lights and sounds of the old film. Stan had collapsed into his armchair and Jackie held her knees by her chest, sitting between the couch and the chair. Stan noticed this and shook his head discreetly. No way such a pretty woman was going to sit on the floor, even if it was carpet.
Jackie couldn’t help but feel someone’s eyes on her, and when they looked at each other Stan gave his lap a little pat so no one else would notice. The farm-woman hesitated, but being in his hold sounded amazing, and really what did she have to lose, so she slipped up into his arms and curled up in his lap, the gang allowing the old movie to fill the atmosphere and happily distract them from the real world.