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[Distractedly:]

What?

[He brings himself back to the present, out of whatever he's been thinking about.]

Got what the first time, Hange?

That's the third time you're doing that machine!

[She mops sweat off her forehead and comes over to inspect the device herself, on the off chance it actually needed that much maintenance.]

I think you got it? Is it broken?

No it isn't. I--

[...

...

...maybe he did do this one more than once. He goes over the last few minutes in his brain. Checks the machine. It's fine. Then, Ford brings one of his legs up so he's in a half-crouch, and rests his forearm on his knee, resignedly. He sighs.]

...I guess I'm a little distracted.

Hange crouches down too. She's sweaty and smells it, but seems like her normal cheerful self as she peers into Stanford's face and then reaches out to gently prod him in the forehead.

"Yeah, I guessed! I can feel you overheating from here. I'm not sure I'd be doing work with weights that could fall on my fingers and crush them with so much on my mind."

His eyes and brows scrunch when she pokes him, but not as any kind of serious wince. He mostly looks sheepish.

"It's not like I'm taking apart a dark matter reactor," Ford protests, but reflexively. It's fine!! It's fine. If his fingers got crushed he'd deal with it, you can fix anything here by dying and taking nausea medicine for a few days.

Encouraged, she lays her palm against his brow briefly.

"Hmm... yep! You're burning up. You probably need to lay down in an ice bath, or drink an ice bath, consume some kind of fluids, definitely."

Hange takes her hand back, resting her elbows on her knees.

"Seriously - something on your mind?"

"You could say that," Ford admits. He looks at her and recognizes -- hey, she's noticed something's wrong, come over, teased him a little, and asked him what was on his mind. She wants to help!

Should he let her? It is a little personal. But she's got a good head on her shoulders. She's practical. And she's used to dealing with demons now. But...

"Hange, do you consider yourself a romantic?" Ford asks, in a much more practical tone than you'd expect to hear that question in. "Likely to be swayed at all by declarations of affection? Or insist that someone should be forgiven for something they did because they happen to love you?"

Edited 2020-06-01 16:22 (UTC)

Hange's smile flattens ever so briefly, perhaps as a subroutine kicks in, brainstorming ways to let Ford down gently -

Oh, wait, no, it's not really that kind of tone, is it?

"No." Okay, she can guess... this must be about Bill in some way.

"Should we go, uh, somewhere else?"

Okay, good. If he's going to talk about this, he absolutely doesn't need someone likely to clutch their chest and say he only did it because he cares! Ford needs a practical mind on this.

(He has no idea how much that almost just sounded like a confession, considering that Ford Pines has never been the first one to give a confession in his life.)

"Probably. It's a little personal."

She's moving on quickly, looking left and right, thinking.

"The Enclosure? My rooms?"

Or his, for that matter, but he's mentioned Bill being on his access filter before...

"I've got him off my access filter, for now," Ford offers. "If you'd rather I didn't impose."

The Enclosure isn't quite private enough.

"It's not an imposition, but it depends on where you'd feel more comfortable...?"

Hange starts the march regardless. They live on the same floor, so he can wait til the very last minute to decide, and change his mind after that. They can go from his room to hers by the minute.

"If you come over I'll provide the booze."

"Deal," Ford says, because even if it's all free here, the offer still means something.

She smiles! And Hange is generally thought of as a chatterbox, but as it happens she can shut up. She shuts up now, though the silence is companionable, from her end at least, and in some minutes they're coming into her rooms, that much more familiar for his last visit probably. Nothing has really changed. She gives him a push on the elbow towards one of the armchairs in the corner.

"Sit." She'll get clean-enough glasses and booze. Good quality bourbon with no fancy twists. Someday she'll have fun with frills, today is not that day.

Equal fingers for both of them, and Hange sits too, scraping sweat-wetted hair away from her forehead. It's warm in this corner; the coals in the woodstove are banked.

"I'm guessing you weren't distracted by super-good news?"

If heat bothered him, Ford would have shied away from turtlenecks in summer ages ago. Ford leans back in the armchair, arm resting on the armrest, bourbon in hand.

"I wish it had been," he admits. "You understand that my particular arrangement with Bill is unique. I can trust him to keep his word, because he wants me around, and lying to me would drive me away."

"I can't say I understand a whole lot about your relationship with Bill." Hange admits this with a shrug. It's one of those things that she's curious about, but also regards as Ford and Bill's business. "I know you two have a complex history. I know there's been conflict between you, and him, and your brother's been involved with it, and that things haven't always been sweet. You describing it like that doesn't surprise me, since he's transactional."

Pay for the company with keeping the faith. It makes sense.

Edited 2020-06-02 02:37 (UTC)

Ford nods. It's a long, long story, and he's not sure he wants to go into it just now. But she's right: though there's been sincere affection, the arrangement has had mutually understood ground rules, until now.

"I've known for a while that, aside from his continued existence, maintaining a relationship with me was his top priority. It mattered even his own total freedom," Ford says. "Until now, I thought I could rely on that."

Hm. How does he explain the next part, without going into too much history?

"Bill and Stan have good reason to hate each other. Stan's the one who came up with the plan that led to Bill's death! And, before he died, Bill threatened my niece and nephew. Came very close to killing them, to get information from me." Ford's voice is serious. He's moved past this fact, but he hasn't forgotten it. "Stan's memory of those events was erased as a consequence of Bill's death. He still doesn't have it back. That's important, because if Stan ever truly remembers, then Bill will come back to life. If he disappears from the Barge, he'll be one of those inmates like Zelda who was never truly dead, and who continue to live their lives even if they vanish."

"That would be terrible."

Hange sits up a bit straighter in vehemence. She likes Bill, she's rooting for him, she'd generally like to be there for him, but when it comes down to the nitty gritty, he's not a trustworthy person. He's a person who for most of his long, long existence was willing to enact mass genocides for fun. That might have changed, but it's a very recent development.

"I imagine he's changed a lot but - from a distant perspective, I wouldn't want him loose yet. There's more risk of that now that your brother's here, isn't there?"

"Much more," Ford confirms. "All it'd take is a flood where memories are broadcast on the network. We're extremely lucky my journals didn't end up in his cabin last week, and that Double Trouble didn't record any of Bill's pages. If Bill's alive again, I don't believe he'd immediately be free: living inmates are still bound to the Barge, and given what I know about Gravity Falls' limited scope, it's very possible he'd simply return to a contained, fictional dimension."

(Or a DVD box set, but Ford doesn't know this.)

"But it's hard to say without a practical test."

"Which would be letting the cat out of the bag in and of itself."

Yeah. So she gets this is a bad idea. Hange sips her bourbon, studying Ford. He's not in a panic or anything, so whatever the issue is it must be slow-burning. That's good.

"I see how a balance could easily tip here, but correct me if I'm wrong, it hadn't yet, right? But something did happen."

He nods, confirming her guesses on all counts.

"We had settled on a truce. An agreement! Bill and Stan would stay away from each other's throats, Stan would have time to form his own opinion on whether Bill had changed or not, and I'd be able to stay close to them both. But Bill broke it. He thought that being around him was making me so sad I'd lose the will to live! So he decided to tell Stan he'd threatened the kids, figuring that'd make him mad enough to demand that I never see him again. It didn't work, but I don't like that he did it. It means there's something he wants more than being around me, and he's willing to manipulate me and my circumstances to get it."

Nodding along.

"Which brings us to you asking me if I'm a romantic type..."

"Yes," Ford says heavily. "Bill told me he did it because he -- he would rather have me out there somewhere, alive and happy, then...in the state he was worried about, with him. He was wrong about the whole thing! He based his assumption on several faulty premises. But...I don't know if it means something, that his motivations were what they were. He thinks it means he -- loves me."

Ford's face twists into a grimace.

"Of course, there's always at least half a dozen reasons Bill does anything," he goes on, testily. "This wasn't just because he thought it was what was necessary to keep me alive. He's afraid of losing me, but apparently, he's more afraid of not being in control over whether that happens! He'd rather be in a bad situation he predicted than a situation he's not in control of! And on top of that, this means he doesn't trust me to keep myself alive!"

It's frustrating and a bit insulting.

"He's still trying to control me," Ford says. "I...really thought we were past that."

Stanford carries on talking, and Hange's expression becomes shadowed and sad. She's not a romantic at all, and in fact is the opposite in some ways: people overrate love. They trust their hearts to guide them when hearts aren't reliable at all.

Hange gives her glass a little rotation. The bourbon swirls. It's high quality booze and Hange takes a moment to enjoy the smell and the complex flavor as she sips at it.

"And so... you're wondering what to do now."

Wouldn't want to overstep splashing out opinions.

A short nod. "Is this the kind of mistake that I should forgive instead of holding it against him?" Ford asks. "Or is forgiving it unbelievably stupid?"

Bill broke his word, broke his trust, and tried to control him. It wasn't done with evil intentions, but it means he's in danger of being manipulated if Bill thinks it's the right thing to do. And he might think Ford will forgive manipulation easily, and try it again.

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let's prose it 😆

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