Archive of Our Own

Stanford was supposed to have a short and quiet day. He was alone in the house - it wasn't his choice, nor was the road trip Stan took the kids on authorized by him, but it didn't seem like his permission was needed, or would be taken seriously anyways.

He woke up at his desk, cracking his neck around to get the feeling back into his muscles - while he's pretty used to passing out on any surface possible, he's been having more consequences lately, mainly in the form of muscle cramps.

Knowing he was alone in the house, he immediately headed upstairs, still stumbling un-gracefully in his sleepy state. He wouldn't dare to walk like that through the house usually, just to spite Stan and let him know that he's the twin who's got more life and grace in him. But now it doesn't matter.

He made his way to the kitchen, tripping on the steps to the living room and then on the steps leading out of the living room on his way there. He puts the kettle on, and takes out a cup, putting in a few spoons of coffee and a bit of sugar to ease the bitter taste.

He sat down behind the dining table once he had a cup of coffee done, realizing that he should've brought at least one journal with him to browse through, because this was frankly boring. He reached for a newspaper that was on the table, unfolding it and taking a look.

Reading the news after spending thirty years out of this dimension was like watching the first episode of a series and then immediately jumping and trying to understand the last season. He had no clue what most of the articles talked about - but hey, at least there was a crossword puzzle, and he had a pen in his coat's pocket.

He entertained himself with the crossword, finding it too easy for a while, then suddenly finding himself at a loss for words when the questions became too difficult for him - that rarely happens, and he blames the publisher for not taking people who haven't been in this dimension for thirty years into account when they made this puzzle. How the hell is he supposed to know what is a 'Beyoncé' is?

When Ford's frustration got the best of him and he took his eyes off of the newspapers, his coffee was already finished. He huffed, and stood up, ready to get back to work.

Although, he suddenly realizes when he's standing in the hallway, he has the house all to himself, he is free to do a few things that he hasn't done for the sake of keeping his distance from the residents.

Stanford went to take a shower - he didn't have any fresh clothes to put on though, so it didn't really change much, but at least he knew he was clean for the first time in ... months. He shudders - he really neglected himself when living out of the dimension.

Upon leaving the bathroom, he heard knocking on the door. It was actually kind of relieving for a second, because it meant that he doesn't have to figure out what else to do around the house. When that second passed, his eyes flew wide open in fear, anxiety rattling him up - he's not fit to be opening doors, right? He doesn't know what he should say if someone starts asking questions regarding things that center around ordinary life struggles. What if it's a policeman trying to get a certain "Stanford Pines" arrested for a crime that Stanford, the real one, didn't commit?

The knocking came again, this time harder, and whoever it was behind that door found the doorbell, because they started blasting it across the whole house.

Stanford flinched, and stormed towards the back door, angry at his morning being interrupted, and angry at himself for putting himself into this situation - if he stayed in the basement, he wouldn't have known that there even was someone at the door, and he wouldn't have this dilemma of whether he should open it or not.

The knocking grows more and more furious once he's standing right in front of it, and he grabs the handle, swinging it open.

He's met with two men in sleek suits. They looked very familiar, and he even adjusted his glasses to make sure he's seen them before.

,,What?" Ford asks, snapping at the two men.

They seemed to be agents, probably the ones who were around back when he came out of the portal.

The one in front looked respectable, and the one in the back was looking around, squinting and frowning as if he wasn't sure where he is - it's possible that the memory gun is losing its effects and he's having some hard and vivid deja vu. The dark haired one steps even closer, almost walking into the house, blocked by Ford.

,,Are you Stanford Pines?" he asked.

Ford tilts his head, and he takes a look at the younger, fair haired man in the back. He leans against the doorframe, blocking the entrance into the house and their view of the inside ,,Who's asking?"

,,I'm agent Powers of the FBI, this is my parter, agent Trigger," the dark haired one intruded himself, nodding at his partner as he introduced him next, and they both whipped out their badges. It doesn't seem like either was actually recognizing him as 'Stanford Pines', meaning that the memory gun has done wonders.

Their presence is still a big problem even despite that.

Ford should have expected of them to come back, but he didn't know it would be so soon. He wouldn't admit it, but he sort of misses Stanley right now, bacause he'd get around these cops in a matter of seconds.

Stanford crossed his arms, and huffed ,,And what do you want?"

Agent Trigger stepped up closer to the door - he was younger than his partner, and had a look on his face that clearly said 'no one takes me seriously enough and I am desperate for your respect', which is something Ford thinks he can use ,,We're here regarding last week's incident,"

Stan always had a way with cops, and he was a master at lying to them when they were kids. He and Stan basically led several secret lives with how many fake names and stories he's made up for the two of them to get out of trouble. Ford's always been a bit of a sloppy liar, but right now, he sees that has no other choice, so he does his best and he tries.

Ford cocks an eyebrow ,,Incident?"

Agent Powers frowns ,,Yes, and we will want our flash drive back - we ran the database and have found out that there is no one who looks like you registered as a superior officer. You had no right to dismiss our mission,"

,,Where do you work?" Stanford rolls his eyes, starting his gig - the flash drive contains informationt that could lead the FBI to the lab, and them reaching it will clearly lead to the portal being rebuild, and him being arrested and unable to do anything about the upcoming apocalypse. He's gotta make his way through this no matter what it costs.

,,Washington D.C. obviously," agent Trigger puts his hands on his hips, proud of how well he handled that question, thinking he has humiliated Ford.

Stanford has his own plan though - he just has to make sure to not budge as he speaks, he needs to seem confident and as if he knew exactly what he is talking about. He snaps at them ,,I know you've come from Washington, I need to know which division,"

Agent Trigger turns to his partner, looking a little nervous. He blinks ,,Which -"

Stanford sighs dramatically, and rubs the bridge of his nose. He looks up at the blonde one, giving him a nasty look ,,Yes, yes, I need to know under who's command you're working," Ford raised an eyebrow at the lack of response - it was just a few seconds and Powers seemed to be ready to answer, but that didn't matter, he was already fuming with fake rage ,,So that I can contact him and tell you how incompetent his agents are,"

Ford stepped across the threshold of the house, and forced both agents to back off.

Agent Trigger was showing emotion, many of which Ford didn't really understand, but he didn't exactly need to, because the attention was on agent Powers, who had a stoic face and was supposedly leading the conversation - he seemed like a tough one to crack, and Ford was already feeling a little unsettled by his focused gaze. He had a look on his face that made it seem like the man saw straight through his lies, which, as opposed to other expressions people make, is one that Ford knows well. He was never a good liar - he was just lucky that people were usually dumber than him.

Suddenly, Powers' face softened, and Ford felt a smirk coming on that he did his best to conceal. That meant he was getting off scot-free.

,,We're working under Agent Rodgers," Powers explained, lowering his gaze.

,,Under Agent Rodgers?" Ford looks at agent Trigger for confirmation, just to undermine his colleague a little, and Trigger nods. Now, there's still a possibility that this agent 'Rodgers' is a tricky lie and he is supposed to say 'there is no Rodgers in the FBI!' or something like that, so he keeps his tone a little skeptical when he says the man's name again ,,And does Mr.Rodgers know that two of his agents are walking around, blowing an undercover mission?"

Agent Trigger sputters, yet again looking at his partner for confirmation ,,U - undercover?"

Agent Powers was as surprised as his colleague, staring at Stanford wide eyed ,,You're undercover?" he asks, sounding more afraid of having had upset a superior than skeptical of this stranger's liability - because after all, Ford was a complete stranger to them, they've seen him once and that was a few days ago when he yelled at them and requested they hand over their files.

,,Yes, goddamn it!" Ford leans out of the door way, so that he's speaking to their faces. He decides to get a little cocky with his next lie, and he hopes sincerely that he's not biting off more than he can chew ,,I rolled up here today with a backup team that's staking out this house, and have six agents working on the operation. You two idiots are embarrassing yourselves,"

Agent Trigger cleared his throat, and glanced back at their car, feeling embarrassed - it doesn't seem like this is the first time a superior has humiliated him like this, though. He puts his hands into his pockets ,,I - I'm sorry, agent, we didn't know,"

,,Yes, it seems that our - our superior didn't ..." agent Powers trailed off, yet again looking at Stanford as if he saw through his lie. He raised an eyebrow when something dawned on him.

,,Why is your hair wet?"

Ford blinks.

Now, Ford hates that he knows what his tells are, and it's all his twin's fault, because Stan was the one to tell him what he sub-consciously does when he lies and gets stressed about it, and so whenever it happens, that's all Ford can think about.

The pinky finger on his right hand twitches, and so does his left eye, and he purses his lips so tightly that his facial muscles tense up, apparently 'visibly' although he isn't sure who would be observant enough to actually notice that - that's good, because it means that it's likely neither of the agents realize that he's feeling pressured.

,,I got out of the shower, obviously," Stanford shrugs, putting his hands back on the wooden doorframe, as if defending his house.

,,You rolled up today with a backup team and six other agents and the first thing you've done was ... take a shower?" agent Trigger points out.

,,Yeah ... I can do whatever the hell I want," Ford knows that his excuse was choppy and there wasn't enough confidence in his voice - it's happening again, he's turning into the same old sloppy liar that he has always been. If he just pushed a little harder a bit sooner, they would have left a few minutes ago and this wouldn't have happened. He let himself get caught off-guard.

,,Isn't that a little unprofessional?"

Unwilling to give up yet, Ford decides to come even closer to the agents, showing his hands into his coat's pockets and cocking his head curiously ,,Is it now?"

It didn't seem like Powers was intimidated by Ford's stern tone, though - he seemed perfectly ready to speak back to this stranger than proclaimed himself their superior ,,What's your name? I'd like to run you through the database to see who's your superior officer,"

Ford chuckled, trying to relax - he's already got them where he needs them, he can't just let go of his lie now, right? ,,Are you threatening me with a complaint, agent Powers?"

,,I'm asking a colleague for his name," Powers took something out of his pockets, a small gadget that he began to tap with his fingers - a mobile telephone, Stanford has learnt that's what it's called, can show information in a matter of seconds. He's fucked.

Ford cringed - when they were fifteen, they took a bus to a town over, and messed around. They found a ditch full of empty beer bottles, and threw them at the windows of an abandoned building. Cops were called, and Stan introduced them as 'Davidson' brothers, claiming that they were the ones who called the police, the lie fully supported by the payphone that was nearby, and their motive being that those horrible kids hurling bottles around hurt Ford, who had a cut on his arm from tripping and falling on a glass shard that same day.

,,Davidson," Ford says, looking down where the agent was typing in his name. Had this been the seventies, they would have had to travel all the way back and get a file on him, Ford knows, but since they have these little gadgets from hell, he has to stand there and wait for his lie to be exposed right in front of him.

,,There are sixty eight Davidsons in the secret service department alone,"

,,Sixty eight?" Stanford scoffs in disbelief, breaking character for a second.

Powers looked up from the screen, eyeing Stanford up and down, taking in every detail of his face to try and compare it to the photos he's seen. He hums in amusement when he's done ,,And you don't look like either of them,"

,,So," agent Trigger leans towards Ford, who in return backs off - so that's how it feels. He puts his hands on his hips ,,Who are we really talking to?" he lifts his chin, trying to match Ford's height.

Ford closed his eyes and exhaled sharply through his nose - he didn't have to fake his annoyance ,,I'm not in the database -" he blinks, almost forgetting to add ,,- you idiots," at the end.

,,Everyone is in the database," agent Trigger points out, but he sounded a little skeptical about his claim - he wasn't fully convinced Ford was a fraud yet, he might use that.

Stanford clings to this sloppy lie like his life depends on it - it might as well. He gulps, fighting the urge to shake his head and give up, his fake confidence in his fake credentials has had his back so far ,,Well, I'm not,"

,,You should be," Powers reasons. He opened his mouth, and then closed it, rolling his tongue inside as be weighs his argument ,,All agents are in a digital database, Mister ... Davidson,"

,,I'm not in it though,"

Agent Powers decides to risk it - he'll either get chewed out by his boss, or he will have caught a criminal trying to impersonate a government employee and to him, the bad consequences don't sound that bad ,,Because you're a fraud impersonating an agent?" he finished the sentence for Ford.

,,Because ... because I, uh -" Stanford stutters, and his facade is slowly cracking. He looks at both agents to make sure at least one of them is still buying his lies, but they both seemed unimpressed, with agent Powers clearly looking angry as well ,,- you know. The government is tracking everyone and, uh, it's really bad, you know. Better stay, uh ... off the grid ..."

'The government is tracking everyone and it sucks' probably isn't something you should say to the government people that are tracking everyone. That wasn't a good lie.

Well, it doesn't matter what he says, his lie broke down the moment he admitted to having had taken a shower - he now needs a new escape plan. Is it a dumb idea to just start running for his life? He might try it if things get too heated.

Agent Powers claps, and comes closer to the doorway - Ford backs off, moving out of the way, and lets the agent walk into the house while he speaks ,,Well, Mr.Pines - it's Stan Pines, isn't it?"

Ford's lip twitched hard, being called 'Stan' is one of his biggest pet peeves, and not just because of the connotations of the name, he just really doesn't like it ,,It's not Stan. I go by Ford," he hissed out after the man, making sure he remembers it.

Agent Powers took a stroll around the foyer, looking down at his shoes to watch his step ,,Well, Ford, I've got to give it to you, you've had me believing you for a while there,"

Trigger shrugged ,,I'm still partly convinced he's a supervisor," he mentions off handedly.

Stanford cussed under his breath - he knew there was no saving him anymore, but he still shouldn't have just told them his name.

Since he doesn't think he has any other choice, besides maybe cooperating with the authorities, his hand slowly slides down onto his belt, and he pulls his coat out of the way as he reaches for his holster. Ford keeps his hand there then, looking from one agent to the other to make sure that they aren't alerted.

Agent Trigger stayed standing in the doorway, blocking the first escape route Ford thought of. Agent Powers looked into the living room, still talking ,,You are a convincing liar,"

Ford was feeling a lot - he was feeling anger, at himself for thinking that his lies would actually work, at himself for bothering with lying when telling the truth doesn't seem that bad actually, but most importantly, he's a little flattered now with the compliment from agent Powers. He nods ,,Thank you,"

Powers turns around, and Ford took his hand off of his gun, pretending to have just been straightening his arm ,,That wasn't a compliment. I was complaining,"

Stanford pursed his lips, feeling a light blush come to his face upon realizing that he misunderstood ,,You should get better at complaining," he sneers.

,,You should get better at lying," Powers comes closer to him, keeping his hands strictly by his side as he explains how it's gonna go now, not even taking out any handcuffs. He just announced that he's arresting him ,,Now, Mr. Ford Pines, you are under arrest for impersonating a government official, for theft and ..." he tilts his head, taking a long pause as he thinks about it ,,- assault,"

Ford scowled, shaking his head in confusion and stepping back - he forgets about his escape plans all together for a second there ,,What? I didn't attack you!"

,,Yeah? And what's your proof?" Trigger snickered, quickly cutting himself off when his partner glared at him. He took out the handcuffs - despite the fact that Stanford was standing still and had no intention of running away, not when he's getting handcuffed at least, the agent was moving carefully, watching his step as he made his way behind Ford and grabbed his hands.

Ford rolled his eyes ,,Seriously? What happened to 'protect and serve'?" he grunts a few times as the handcuffs tighten around his wrists, clicking in place. He forgot just how uncomfortable the handcuffs are on Earth - seriously, they can't make a solid hologram?

,,We're not cops," Powers shrugged, and now that Ford was restrained, he walked up as close to him as he pleased, not having to be afraid of getting tackled.

Ford curls his fingers, looking for the cuffs around his wrist in an attempt to find the lock - he won't be able to pick it now, but it would be nice to have it on hand when he gets a hold of something thin and sharp. To keep them from noticing, he keeps the conversation going ,,You must have been policemen before you became FBI agents, right?"

,,Actually no," Powers stared at him blankly, and Ford did his best to throw that same look back at him.

Agent Trigger leaned in from behind, casually chiming in ,,I was a cop," he adds, and then tugs at the cuffs, forcing Ford to stumble back with a pained hiss. He looks back at the doorway, making sure it's still behind him, however, he doesn't get to walk Ford out of the house, since his partner stops him all of a sudden by just simply continuing to talk.

Agent Powers started naming: ,,I was actually an accountant. Then a lawyer,"

Ford grimaced, chuckling dryly as he changes the topic ,,Are you really keeping that fake assault charge?"

Powers was quiet for a while, pretending to be thinking about it to give Ford some false hope, and then nodded ,,Yes, I think I am,"

Ford drew back and then head-butted him right in the forehead, forcing him to stumble back - meanwhile, with the other agent shocked and obviously off-guard, Ford had a perfect opening to elbow him in the ribs and step on his foot to further elevate the pain.

With both men moaning and cursing as they try to get back on their feet, Ford was free to start running - he made a break for the open door behind him, cuffs still on his wrists. Of course he thought about dislocating his thumb to get out, but he didn't have the time or resolve to do something like that right now. He had to get away first, then worry about the cuffs.

But he doesn't know what he would do when he's escaped them - Stan and the kids will come back home tomorrow, and while he thinks that maybe Stan could use a wake-up call like this, he wouldn't want for the kids to experience being held in custody. Although, they might already have gone through this if he remembers right.

Ford looks back, seeing the younger one chasing after him, while Powers tagged behind. Ford was way ahead, getting away fast, but it didn't matter in the end when he turned a sharp corner for the woods, and as if he had appeared out of thin air, agent Trigger caught up to him.

He tackled Stanford to the ground, knocking the air out of him, and then dragged him back up on his feet while he was still struck by shock.

,,I think we can safely add 'resisting arrest' to your record now," Powers said blankly when be finally caught up with his colleague - it was probably a joke, but it surely didn't sound like one. He snaps his fingers and points at their vehicle, which was neatly parked on the Mystery Shack's parking lot ,,Take him to the van, agent Trigger,"

,,With pleasure,"

Stanford huffs, yanking his head to get the hair out of his face. He glares back at Powers as he walks towards the van, refusing to break eye-contact with the man, hoping it'll intimidate him at least a little.

Ford was shoved into the back of a big black van - obviously if someone saw this scene, they would assume that it's a dystopian government kidnapping, or maybe just a normal kidnapping, but there were no witnesses, no one to call for help. Not that he'd need help anyways.

,,Hold it, big guy," Agent Trigger pulled at Ford's cuffs once they got to the middle of the room, and agent Powers took a stand in front of him.

Stanford inhales sharply as the man starts running his hands across his torso, following up the strap on his chest down to the holster on his belt. Powers looked up at him as he unhooked the holster and the gun, and Ford gave him an eyeroll.

The hands moved to his hips, making their way around to check his back pockets - or well, that's the excuse Powers must've been telling himself, because as far as Ford was aware, he was getting groped. The fingers furled around his asscheeks and grasped, making Ford yelp in surprise a few times.

Powers moved down his legs very quickly, only giving his thighs about five squeezes, and then removed a knife from Ford's boot. He took the two weapons with himself to the other side of the van, where he placed them down onto a bench.

There were two benches in the van, one on the right and one on the left, which is where they sat him down. The two agents sat down opposite Ford, Powers took a walkie talkie out of one of the shelves in the van and turned it on, immediately calling out into it:

,,Talking to all units, I repeat, talking to all units,"

All units report back in succession, making Ford roll his eyes as the buzzing and cackling of the walkie talkie overrides the silence in the van - it felt like mockery, it felt like an insult, a few hooligans with guns are now more important than him just because he's in cuffs and might have dislocated his shoulder when Trigger tackled him? Unbelievable.

Ford rolls his shoulder around, trying to find out how it's doing, while he glares at agent Trigger because christ, that stud just tackled an old man to the ground.

He abruptly turns to agent Powers, giving him a nod to get his attention ,,Why aren't we moving?"

Ford has a plan - the van starts moving, he un-cuffs himself, he'll reach through the bars that block his way to the driver's seat, spook the driver and therefore swerve the vehicle hard enough for everyone's balance to come off. Firstly, he'll disarm agent Trigger, since he seems to be the muscle of the mission, then Ford will cuff him to one of the shelves, knock him out, and he'll carry on with the same treatment with agent Powers. When he's alone in the back, he'll break out of the doors and run. What the driver does then won't matter, because Ford will take a sharp turn to the woods and go across them, leaving their line of view.

Powers puts down the walkie talkie and presses his hand down to the sore spot on his forehead, frowning at Ford, who caused it. He can't believe he still had the nerve to ask question. But he supposes that talking to their suspect won't end in immediate disaster ,,We have a team on the way that has to recover the flash drive containing all our data of our mission - before that, we will stay still," he explains.

Ford looks down - that's not really good ,,Good ... great, great, good ..."

,,Does that put a snag in your escape plans, Mr.Pines?" Powers sneered, crossing his arms.

,,Yes, actually, it does," Ford shrugged - he knew the man was just being a condescending dick, but to pretend to think that this is a normal conversation is the best mocking strategy Ford can think of at the moment.

,,Oh my," Powers said blankly ,,I'm very sorry,"

Ford waves him off with a shrug, still playing pretend ,,It's alright,"

He decides to look around and find a different way out - he has work to do back in his lab, and it'd be great if he could get back as soon as possible, so that he doesn't waste his precious time on these two dumbasses. There must be a weakness in the van, a spot where he can kick his leg and it'll derail the entire mission, a place that he can scootch over to that he'd have a clear route out from, but nothing comes to mind.

He's locked in a high tech van with two agents who clearly won't hesitate twice to prove that police brutality is still on the large even these days. Ford is learning a lot about the modern world this way, how funny, he didn't even take a break to check out how the town looks today, and he thinks that when everything is solved, he might go and experience a little fraction of the life of a modern man on his own.

He'd cuss himself out for thinking about such trivial now, but well, it doesn't look like he is able to put together a backup plan, and the agents don't seen to budge even once as they sit around and doze off, waiting for the upcoming units to report back once they're at the Mystery Shack, so he doesn't think that taking a small break could hurt.

Stanford looks at the men in front of him. Agent Trigger was drifting off with his eyes, trying to entertain himself with the sight of bulletproof gear that hung off of the wall, while agent Powers was still looking at Ford, eyebrows raised in mild amusement as he intensely watched every change in Ford's expression, no doubt trying to drag his escape plans out of him - Ford looks like the sort of a man who won't give up after one failed escape, and he expects more resistance, more lies, more bullshit, and intends to watch him for as long as they're all locked in this van together.

Since the multiverse wasn't kind to him, he's had some experience evading cops. He's lied to cops, sometimes successfully, sometimes unsuccessfully, and he has fled from cops, just like he did today, but he'd mostly be successful in that matter, and if not, he would beat up cops, and has even killed some - or well, he'd say that the bullets from his weapons killed them as he fired them carelessly around.

With his hands cuffed, he probably can't do any of the latter options, so a beating or a murder is off the table. He already tried to lie and run, and neither worked, meaning that he doesn't have many options left.

Agent Powers speaks up all of a sudden, dragging Ford out of his thoughts ,,Don't try and brainstorm escape plans, Pines, it's not worth it," he reaches down into his suit jacket, clutching a gun as a threat.

Stanford rolls his eyes - the patronizing tone really got to him. It's been long since he's made a mistake this big, and he hates to have this man rub the fact that he's locked up into his face. He just needs the van to start moving, then he'll have a clear way out, with no way for anyone to call for a backup unit to go get him.

He just needs to wait a little while - it doesn't matter that the agents anticipate his escape, he can take them, he's positive. He just has to sit in this terrible, awkward, tense silence for a little longer.

Ford starts bouncing his leg to pass time, directing all attention to the sole of his boot tapping against the floor while he fools around with the cuffs, trying to dislocate his thumb to slip one hand free. But aging hasn't been easy on him, and that's a big decision to make, to dislocate his thumb. He could screw up his hand for a long while.

Agent Powers noticed the struggle in his eyes - Ford knew that when he glanced at his face accidentally that one time, and he immediately stopped fumbling with his cuffs.

,,You're not gonna get out of those - I closed them tightly enough to leave a bruise, big guy," agent Trigger says proudly - Ford didn't even know that he noticed it as well, but at least he's been reminded to not underestimate either of the agents.

Stanford scowls and lets out a deep, rumbling groan that almost dipped into a growl, and he ducks his head, looking down at his lap with a hearty sigh. There's not much he can do here, there really isn't. Stanley's not gonna come and save him, not that he'd fucking want him to, but hey, it would have been nice if Stan behaved like an adult and expected that they're still in danger from both otherworldly and this-worldly things, and didn't go on his stupid 'revenge road trip'

Ford huffs and leans back against the wall. He fiddles with the cuffs a little, but stops when he notices Trigger smirk at his struggle.

Agent Powers is the one to speak up though - he knows his partner would just mindless gloat, and that's not everything this mission yields for the two of them, and therefore shouldn't be their first priority.

,,Your resistance is futile," Powers said, simply informing Ford of a fact that he's sure of ,,I don't understand why you keep trying when all your attempts have been unsuccessful,"

,,Well, as you see, gentlemen, I'd very much enjoy not spending my afternoon in federal custody," Ford finally snaps back at them. He tilts his head to hopefully stare at the van door, and starts to mumble: ,,All that's left for me is to -" Ford interrupts himself with a scoff, finding the upcoming joke stupid and distasteful, but he decides to say it anyways ,,- I don't know, to flirt my way out? Heh,"

Agent Trigger laughed, and Ford couldn't even bring himself to give him a glare, he couldn't even put a disappointed pout on his face. He just huffed, and eyed the van door again in the hope that maybe, if he just squinted hard enough, he'd develop some psychic abilities and unlock the door with his mind.

Stanford grits his teeth when he realizes that his staring contest with the door was all in vain, and takes an another look at the agents, specifically at Powers, who unlike his partner, appeared to be sincerely intrigued, an expression he hasn't seen on the man in the twenty minutes they've known each other - Ford wouldn't have figured out why he had such a sudden change in expression had he not spoken up:

,,Flirt your way out, huh?" Powers asks, cocking an eyebrow, but this time with emotion.

Stanford's eyes widen, and he shifts in his seat uncomfortably, trying to get the gears in his brain that have been working on an escape plan to redirect and figure out what this look in the agent's eyes means.

Agent Powers slowly leans in, and props his elbows down on his thighs, tangling all ten of his fingers together as he weighs his words in his mind.

Trigger lowered his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose, mumbling something that Ford couldn't hear, since he was fixated on the older agent, and the clear interest in his eyes that had Ford's stomach churning, and not entirely in a bad way.

Ford sputters after a few long seconds of suffocating silence that didn't tell him anything about the situation - he supposes he should address the elephant in the room ,,Wha - what are you - why are you looking at me like that?"

,,Have you thought about what you can do to get out of this situation?" Powers asks, and then pulls out his earpiece, for privacy's sake.

,,Yes I did, indeed," Stanford sneers, trying to change the air in the room to be as awkward and poisonous as it was before ,,And I'm happy to tell you that most of my plans involved the two of you having your heads crushed under my boots,"

Agent Powers let out a sound that might have been a scoff, but also sounded dangerously close to an amused chuckle - Ford actually looked at agent Trigger for confirmation, but the man was just rolling his eyes and muttering 'genetic condition my ass' or something along those lines, he can't be sure.

,,You know, Ford, I agree," Powers leans back, looking at Stanford with enough expectation to mimic his father riddling him when he wanted to hear something come out right of his mouth, be it a confession, or just an answer to a regular question. Powers elaborates only after he's satisfied with just how heavy the air in the van became, satisfied with Stanford's puzzled expression ,,'Flirting' your way out of this might be all that's left for you to do,"

Ford's lips twitched as he internally accused the man of being a smug bastard, and he looked away from the agents, fuming in silence.

Agent Powers interrupts that silence by snapping his fingers, and Ford's eyes drift back to him reluctantly ,,So?"

Ford shrugs, irritated ,,So what?"

Powers closed his eyes and sighed, matching Ford's irritation very well ,,I meant that, Pines,"

Ford blinks in confusion, and his voice pitched ,,Meant what?"

,,You can 'flirt' your way out of this," everytime Powers says the word 'flirt' he utters it as a curse word, as something so trivial and below him that Ford felt a little like he was having mixed signals sent his way.

,,Yeah?" Stanford quirks an eyebrow, chuckling at the proposition which he finds hard to believe in in the first place. Stanford blinks - he must look like he's only pretending to be naive, with how they look at him like he should know what they want from him.

Suddenly, Powers wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, finally getting it into his head that Ford is genuinely clueless.

,,Yes," Powers nods ,,You 'flirt' -" he spat out the word ,,- and then maybe one thing leads to an another, and each and every one of your charges might be pardoned. Emphasis on the 'might'," he did, indeed, put an emphasis on the 'might'

Stanford stared at the man in shock. That was certainly a proposition he didn't think was going to come his way. He thought about something similar to this scenario, but he scratched it as soon as it came to his mind - alright, alright he used it for his joke, but that was supposed to be it.

He feels disgusted for a moment, and he thinks about risking it and simply escaping with his arms tied - he's got a sturdy pair of working legs, he could kick and trash around hard enough to knock out a man or two, but that'd be way too messy. Even if he gets out of the cuffs, he'll have to anticipate an attack from the units they've invited to his house - well, this looks like his only option. He feels the clarity of a trapped rat realizing it can just gnaw its own leg from under the trap, and then, finally, he feels a bit of arousal wake up in his belly as he stares at agent Powers, then at his colleague, then turns back to Powers in a whim. The proposal doesn't sound so bad after all.

There's just one little problem - Ford is even shittier at flirting than he is at lying, which really says something. And what sort of flirting? Should he compliment them? Should he say a pick-up line, yet again use one of his brother's strategies - years have gone by and yet he still hasn't gotten the set of pick-up lines Stan has left him with out of his goddamn head.

The walkie talkie that was resting on the bench next to agent Powers whirred and cackled, and then a man's voice came out, talking about code number whatever whatever, Ford would try to remember what it was but he knows he misheard anyways. Powers didn't respond to the message, and the walkie fell silent after they delivered.

,,The clock is ticking, Pines, and I don't have a lot of time," Powers starts to tap the fingers against his arm due to his own impatience. He still had his arms crossed across his chest, tightly so ,,You might want to get started now. So ..." he shrugs, and lets his hands falls down to rest at his thighs ,,Humour me,"

Ford panics a little - he supposes that it's prime time to start weighing the less desirable options. He shrugs, and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind ,,Uh ... you're the most attractive FBI agent that's ever arrested me?"

Powers makes that sound again, that weird scoff/chuckle thing ,,Is that the best you can do?"

,,I - I mean - no?" Ford shakes his head a bit too many times, clearly letting the agents know that this isn't his forte - maybe eventually, they'll throw something at him and he could bounce off of their remarks, flirt within context and such.

Stanford nods at agent Trigger, unable to point with his hands cuffed behind his back ,,I, uh - do I flirt with him too?"

Trigger just shrugs lightly, looking at his partner for the answer - Powers gave a slight nod.

,,Uh, okay -" Stanford straightens up, trying to knock some confidence into himself with the gesture ,,- did you, uh ..." he squints, getting lost in his own words - he remembers the pick-up lines, why can't he put them coherently in one sentence? ,,- what was the one with someone falling from heaven? No, no, I know a better one, uh, something about a mirror -"

He was cut off with howling laughter, with which Trigger actually leaned his head back and slapped his thigh. One bad look from Powers however, and he stopped laughing, falling quiet with a small wheeze, shoulders still jumping as the cheery mood refused to leave him.

Powers shook his head - he is, indeed, humoured, so he cannot complain about just how bad the flirting it. Still, he decides to point it out ,,You're worse at this than you are at lying,"

,,You know what?" Stanford raised his voice, and settled his feet down onto the floor as if he was ready to jolt up and put up a fight, both agents visibly tensing up at his gesture. But he decides to wait, and instead releases his anger by yelling ,,I'm not your goddamn jester, I'm not going to 'humour you'," he gestured the quotation marks.

,,Shame," Powers shook his head, and his colleague shrugged as if he didn't agree, but didn't say anything anyways ,,Big, big shame - you were almost there,"

Stanford knows of this option, he knows that flirting is not all that there is to it, and he refuses to play the man's games for his freedom - he's willing to do different things though, things he's made up his mind about. The work he has in the basement is far too important for him to abandon it, for him to let a bunch of cops run around and take apart what was left of his life's work.

,,I'm not gonna play your weird game, but I - I'll do anything to get out of here, okay?"

,,Anything?"

Stanford can feel enough frustration boil up in his chest to fuel the engine of this goddamn vehicle. He probably should offer to have the battery hooked up to the level of annoyance that he feels, because it'll sure as hell have the car going 90 miles per hour ,,I just said that I'm not playing your fucked up little game, just tell me -"

Powers sighs. Inmates usually like the games, or at least they comply, even if reluctantly, but he'd lie if he said that he didn't enjoy the man's boldness - as clueless as he seemed at the start, he seems to have great confidence now that he knows what his way out will be.

,,Get on your knees," he orders.

Stanford's shoulders slump at first, the reality of the situation hitting him like a truck and if there's one thing Stanford Pines can do perfectly, it's overthinking everything all the time, however, today he'll make sure to think a little less, at least while he's doing this - whatever he could call it, selling himself for freedom?

Stanford looked up, pretending to be thanking god to further mock the agents ,,Finally, an order that isn't in a goddamn riddle! Holy Moses," he got ready to stand up, when Powers reached into his breast pocket for his gun, giving him a firm nod that sat Ford back onto the bench.

,,No, you walk over here on your knees,"

Ford cursed, but instead of explaining that he wouldn't hurt either of them now that they have a deal - he knows that'd be yet an another lie - he slips down onto the floor, and takes the largest steps with his knees that he can without falling on his face. It was humiliating to stumble across the small van in complete silence, but thankfully, it didn't take long for Ford to find himself on the other side.

When Ford's close enough, agent Powers takes the liberty to grab him by the shoulder, and he shoves him over to the side, forcing him to kneel in front of agent Trigger instead ,,Him first,"

,,Alright! Fine," Stanford groans, cracking his neck to make sure that he's still in one piece - he barely managed to out stretch a leg in time to fall onto some support and save himself from an embarrassing tumble to the side ,,There's - there's no need to be violent,"

,,Oh, I know. I just enjoy it," Powers said, and then glanced at his colleague, who was tearing his belt open - he raised an eyebrow, and Trigger immediately puts his hands by his sides down on the bench, getting the hint.

Stanford spent a while glaring at Powers, frustrated with the rough treatment he's getting - Ford likes it rough, no doubt to it, but this is not just 'rough' this is borderline cruel. Why does it turn him on then?

When Powers' eyes flicker his partner's way, Ford instinctively follows the man's gaze along as it lands on agent Trigger. He makes eye-contact with the man in front of him, cheeks tinting a light pink when he realizes that he's kneeling right between agent Trigger's knees.

,,Uh," Ford gulps, lowering his eyes right onto the man's crotch, seeing that his belt laid open but his zipper was closed. He looked up, blinking holefully at the other man ,,Are you going to take it out or -"

Agent Trigger scoffs, looking at his partner to share his disbelief at the stupid question with him ,,That's your job, Pines,"

Stanford's mouth falls open for a short moment as he basks in shock ,,Really?" his shoulders jump up, and the cuffs rattle as he forcefully pulls at them, demonstrating his inability to be opening up buttons and zippers.

The walkie whirred again, and Powers lifted it, pushing a button to lower the volume. He throws it back down onto the bench, and lets out a deep sigh - this one is particularly hard to deal with, and take it from agent Powers, because he usually likes it when they're a little cocky ,,Time is running out, and you have work to do, Ford,"

Stanford grits his teeth, and slowly leans in towards agent Trigger, stretching out his neck so that he can reach the zipper of his dark slacks. He struggles to take it in his mouth at first, and once it's wedged between his teeth he yanks way too hard and the zipper gets stuck. He has to pull it a little higher, and then start dragging it down slowly, looking up at agent Trigger, who unashamedly stared down at him with intrigue in his eyes. Trigger was clenching and unclenching his fists, clearly getting impatient - Ford noticed, but he doesn't hurry up, knowing that the reason things are going so slowly is because these two can't help but exercise their weird power play fantasies. Fucking crooked cops.

When the zipper was down, Ford bit down into the hem of the man's underwear and pulled, accidentally ripping out a few hairs off of the happy trail since his teeth's grip was clumsy and made in a rush. Trigger stifled a yelp, and Powers hissed in sympathy.

Ford felt victorious knowing he's caused at least a bit of pain, but doesn't let it distract him too much from what he has to do. He grunts when he manages to get the man's limp cock to slip out, a little startled by the sight - it's been a while since he's been with a human, and he feels like his behaviour is a little strained. He focuses on why he's doing this, and instead of feeling determined, he realized he regrets not at least trying to break out with the cuffs still on, though, when he tried it in the house, it was proven to be a faulty strategy.

Stanford would tease and taunt further, but he'd rather not have to listen to Powers telling him about how he's running out of time. He sinks in, taking the man's limp cock in between his lips, letting it rest in his mouth as he works on it with his tongue. Yep, there was definitely the trace of a long car ride in there, and maybe a hint of being too pre-occupied with the mission to take a shower. They should really take showers during their missions, it's ridiculous how much sweat he can taste.

He doesn't let it scare him off though, he's put his mind, and now his neck, into this, and he'll finish it - well, finish him would be better to say.

Stanford closed his eyes, and took the hot cock deeper, feeling the veins bulge and pop as it grows hard to the hungry swipes of his tongue. He whishes he could brace himself on the man's thighs, or at least on the floor or the bench, but his hands remain tied up. He tugs at the cuffs, hoping that at least one of the agents will have mercy on him and uncuff him. They don't though, it's way too dangerous, and everyone in the room knows that.

Agent Powers puts a hand down on Ford's shoulder and Ford's eyes snap open. Powers shook him up, only to hog a bit of attention for himself, and he yet again speaks with that informative tone that makes it hard to bite back a comeback in any coherent way ,,Your hands stay behind your back," he runs his hand down Ford's arm for as long as he reached without bending over, and then put both his hands back into his lap, watching as Ford struggled.

Stanford started to slowly draw back and then sunk back in, bobbing his head with caution so that he doesn't accidentally fall back, or forwards, not when he's got no hands to land onto. He relaxed his throat, taking it in deep, finding himself struggling with the size.

Everything started off cold, and impersonal, and suddenly there were hands in his hair, pulling his closer, and the van was filled with quiet sighs of pleasure.

Stanford couldn't help it, and when the cock in his mouth grew to its full size, and the hand on his hair which actually seemed to be Powers' pushed him down, he gagged on tip as it hit the back of his throat. He tried to pull back, but the hand in his hair just pushed him down again, forcing more gags out of him.

He could hear someone snicker, and can't be sure which one of the men it was, and he doesn't care - Stanford presses his teeth gently against the dick in his mouth, threatening to bite down.

,,Hey!" there was immediately a hand grasping for his shoulder, and agent Trigger shoved him back with a startled curse.

Ford coughed, regaining his breath with a series of gasps ,,Fuck's sake,"

,,Don't tell me you're bad at this too," Powers said mockingly, and his hand came to rest on his partner's thigh - supposedly a romantic partner as well as a colleague, Stanford assumes after seeing the affection - there was very little of it, but it seemed to be sincere and real.

,,Just gotta - just had to catch my breath," Ford groaned, shaking his head - this is so low, and he's done things in the multiverse that would get him something as rare as a grossed out look from Stan. He feels disgusting, but not in a way that'd have him want to curl up into a ball and disappear, not even in a way that has him want to shudder and shake until the memory is gone. It's a steady kind of disgust, a sort that digs deep into his gut and then, all of a sudden, it drops and settles down between his legs. It's a weird sort of disgust, but it's not all bad.

,,You can't treat me like ... like this," Stanford clears his throat, and without any warning, he takes the leaking cock in front of him back into his mouth, stretching his lips around it and forcing it down his throat. It easily slips down now that he's taken it so deep out of his own volition, and Trigger had a hand braced in Ford's hair immediately.

Agent Powers stood up from his seat, stopping behind Ford's back. Ford was afraid he was going to push his head down again, and he'll be stripped of his chosen pace, but the man's hands just slid across Ford's shoulders, the touch slightly comforting, elevated to an electric tingle when Powers spoke up ,,I'll treat scumbags like you any way I please,"

Stanford hollows out his cheeks - he doesn't take the time to pull away and bite something back though, just gives an annoyed grunt.

,,Ugh fuck," Trigger groaned and ran a hand through Stanford's hair, stroking it, playing with it as if to distract himself, and it just made Ford suck bob his head up and down his cock as fast as he could without pulling a muscle in his neck.

Ford felt pressure on his shoulders, and instinctively stiffened, opening his eyes and glancing back, though he couldn't see what Powers was thinking, he had a hunch that the man was giving him a massage for some ungodly reason.

,,Which charge are we forgetting?" Powers asks, removing one hand from Stanford's shoulder and grasping a handful of his hair.

Agent Trigger sighed, and pushed Stanford closer with an another grunt, getting red in the face as he gasps out: ,,Giving chase," he quickly scrambled to unbutton his suit jacket, hands working clumsily on loosening his tie.

The remaining hand in Stanford's hair patted him gently, and then slipped down to his shoulder - it almost seemed like Powers was curious to see what Ford can do on his own, and so Ford decides to show-off.

He swallows around the cock in his mouth, humming when the tip presses down against the back of his throat. He was squeezing his thumb hard, partially hoping he'll finally dislocate it and get out of the chilly cuffs, but his luck was bound to run out, and the good old method stopped working as he pushed to the limit - Ford gags, and the sound was so loud and gross that it made him cringe.

The flexing of his retching throat sent the other man over the edge, thighs tensing up around Ford's head as he spills deep into his throat without the courtesy to give even a mere grunt as a warning.

Stanford pulls back hastily, startled by the thick load of cum shooting down his gullet - Powers slammed his head back down, forcing an another gag out of him.

Agent Powers leans in ,,Swallow,"

Ford gags, and out of the need to breathe again, he obeys, gulping down everything and milking the cock for a few more drops in the process. Trigger forcefully pushed him back when he had enough, and he put his hands on the sides of Ford's face. The cradling felt too good for Ford to try and flinch away, but he did stay alert despite that, giving the man a glare.

,,Good," Powers' hand stayed in Stanford's hair, but the grip was loose and gentle now - it made Stanford shudder with the knowledge that yet again, something cruel and painful is upcoming.

Agent Trigger dragged a hand across his face, turning to his partner ,,Heh, he's better than the last one," he says, looking down at Ford and giving his cheek a rough but playfull slap.

,,I'll be the judge of that," Powers said. The hands on Stanford's shoulders tighten as agent Powers grabs him, pulling so hard that the fabric of his trenchcoat was digging into his armpits, and he pulls Stanford up onto his feet using brutal force and also Ford's own shock and confusion about what's happening to move him around the van.

,,Why don't I ever get a say?" Trigger whines, glaring after his partner as he manhandles their suspect.

Stanford was brought to the other side of the van, and pushed against the wall with a metallic clank. He groaned in pain, closing his eyes when the blow was delivered.

,,Are you kidding me?" Powers cocks an eyebrow, looking back at Trigger ,,You always get a say," he turns back to Ford, and forcefully flips him around.

Ford made an embarrassing squeak of pain, hitting his cheek bones against the wall. His chest was pressed against it too, and while his most basic instincts begged of him to fight, he was unable to do more than groan in pain and submit. Agent Powers didn't look like it thanks to the sleek black suit, but he was pretty much living up to his last name - he had a lot of strength in his arms, and didn't break a sweat dragging Ford around. That man was strong.

Agent Trigger rolls his eyes - there's just no sense in fighting with his partner, because he always has something to say back, and it's never an apology or a heartfelt 'I'll listen to you from now on, please go on', just nothing. He scoffs, and decides to suck it up ,,Just get on with it,"

,,I am getting on with it," Powers' hands slide down into Ford's pants, and he gropes him experimentally, tasting his hips with his fingertips. His nails dug into the thick skin, upper lip twitching when he discovers that under the cushion of fat was hard muscle.

,,Ah, fuck -" Stanford bites into his lip, and arches his back, pushing his shoulders to the wall as well.

Powers made an amused sound ,,Aw, would you like it short and sweet instead?"

,,No ..." Ford closes his eyes, and grits his teeth so tightly in rage that they actually grind painfully against each other. Powers pulled at his cuffs, yanking his shoulders back and causing them to ache - he can't bend to his lover's whims like he did back when he was young. He wouldn't say that he's a frail old man, but he is a little fragile to be honest and wouldn't mind being treated with more tender and loving touches.

But it doesn't look like tenderness is due, in fact, it seems like Powers takes cruelty as a must.

Despite that, Ford's cock was growing hard in his slacks, body reacting to the pain in the completely wrong way - his body has a habit of doing that, of feeling pleasure when there shouldn't be any. Stanford has a bad, bad, no-good habit of getting aroused when he's afraid, as if the jolt of fear in his heart was misdirected and sent straight down between his legs, and pain can oftentimes seem satisfying, or borderline pleasurable.

He knows it makes him a freak, but just like he can't stop himself from having extra fingers, he can't help but feel turned on in this moment.

Powers takes note of it, and decides to tease him about it ,,Someone's a masochist,"

Ford opens his mouth to say something back in protest, and cuts himself off with a gasp when fingernails dig into the underside of his ass, possibly drawing blood. His cock throbs hard in his pants, and he bites down into his lip to stifle a groan.

,,Watch it -" Ford gives a warning growl when the hands in his pants start making their way around his hips, threatening to grab his cock. One hand slips out of his pants and fumbles with his belt.

Powers pushed at him harder, forcing Ford's cheek and nose to smush against the wall, glasses tilting on his face and the rim getting crooked from the pressure applied.

The walkie whirred, and since the other agent had nothing to do for a while now, he picked it up and mumbled back a response, eyes glued to his partner's back.

The padding on the shoulders of Powers' suit was inconsistent, with one shoulder perfectly padded and the other's padding being terribly misplaced, leaning visibly to the front of his suit as a result of his sleeve having had gotten mangled in the process of apprehending the suspect. The rest of his suit was still okay, though.

The man yanked Ford's pants below his hips, and the inside hemming of his slacks scratched up his thighs. Ford groaned, tugging at his cuffs out of panic, shoulders aching in need of relief. He tried to make his arms go limp, but not only did that bring very little to not satisfaction, he kept tensing up all over again no matter how many times he tried to relax.

As if he was reading Ford's mind just for the sole purpose of knowing exactly how to annoy him, Powers speaks up with the most ridiculous request of them all:

,,Relax,"

Stanford has a feeling he has to ask the man to be gentle.

,,And if you can't ... then you better ask me to be gentle now. I sure as hell won't listen later,"

Ford pursed his lips, and rolled his eyes, feeling a hand dip down between his legs, and before he knows it, it's grabbing his hot cock. Powers pressed his groin down against his bare ass, letting him feel his own erection, which was straining in his tight slacks.

,,I'm not gonna do that," Ford bites back, grunting when he feels a hand fully wrap around his cock amd start to stroke him. Where are all these hands coming from? Is there something fishy going on, or is he just so lost that he can't keep up with the touches anymore? He enjoys them, god knows he does, but he can't let that consume him.

,,I know," Powers said. There was more in his words than Ford heard.

Stanford is getting hot, hot, hot in between his legs, too hot for his own good, so hot that he cannot recall the last time he's felt this hot, but it was a long time ago. The dry hand on his cock works him up with quick strokes from root to the tip and back, forcing a groan out of him. If only were his hands free and he could cover his mouth, but he doesn't get the luxury of that either.

Well, he supposes that this is what you get when you bribe cops with sex.

Stanford decides to make use of the fact that he's got his arms tied in the back, so he unfurls his fists and gets a hold of Powers' belt, slipping a finger under it and pulling it out painfully slowly. And the bastard waited, leaving Ford to struggle to open up the belt with his cuffed hands for almost an entire minute.

Powers takes Stanford's wrists in hand, and squeezes, forcing them off of his belt. He seemed to be enamoured by Stanford's fingers for a while, but he let go eventually.

Trigger crosses his arms, walkie talkie in hand. He likes to watch.

Powers got to the zipper of his slacks, dragging it down with one swift tug and relieving his hard cock by letting it stretch out his briefs. He pressed his chest down against Ford's back, and leaned into his ear ,,You really are good-looking, you know that?"

Stanford felt a dark red blush spread across his face, and it wasn't fully directed at the half-assed compliment. There was a dick pressing between his ass cheeks, and he felt like the whole scene was obscene.

,,Here," Powers put a hand down on Ford's shoulder, and pushed, forcing them to hunch downwards ,,This'll help your shoulder pains,"

,,Breathe in," Powers spoke as if he was ordering, but it somehow didn't bother Ford that much ,,Now breathe out,"

Stanford follows the intructions without any fuss, leaning his shoulders to the front instead of pulling them to the back, and he steadies his breathing ,,Thanks," he mutters, feeling a little sentimental all of a sudden - so much for 'I'll treat scumbags like you any way I want' on Powers' side, it didn't seem to hold up.

Trigger interrupts the quiet moment by calling out after his partner ,,Backup's in the county,"

,,We better hurry up, then," Powers straightens up, and his hand slides back down on Stanford's hip, grabbing it hard and surely leaving a bruise. Ford always bruised easily, even as a kid, and it's gotten worse with age - he just knows his wrists will be ruined, and he'll have to stretch his sleeves a little further than normal to hide the bruises.

As if on command, Trigger stood up and walked over to the other side of the van, leaning on the wall Ford was pushed against ,,You're the one who's taking too long,"

Ford hears the rustling of fabric, and his eyes flick down to Trigger's hands, in which he craddled a small bottle. Do these two just walk around prepared for this kind of thing?

Powers snatches the bottle out of his hands, and flicks it open ,,I'm sorry I can't wrap it up in seven minutes like you,"

Ford barks out a laugh that quicky turns into a breathless gasp when a hand slips between his ass-cheeks and presses down against his hole, circling it slowly, yet again taking its time to tease.

Trigger scoffs, cheeks tinting pink, and he averts his eyes in embarrassment. Thankfully, he doesn't embarrass himself further by showing that he's unable to bite back something witty, because the way Stanford cut through the silence with a surprised yelp, it looked like he was interrupted.

,,Oh!" Ford's eyes widen, and he bites down into his lip, feeling a finger slop into the most sensitive spot of them all - right up his ass ,,Warn a guy next time!"

Powers hums ,,I think I gave you a good enough warning,"

It was a finger, dry enough to actually sting as it went in. Stanford tries to suck it up, and grits his teeth until it's inside up to the knuckle. He hunches his shoulder forwards, since the burning pain has returned the moment he tensed up, and as his muscles went slack, the finger felt easier to take.

He's taken many things up his ass - dicks, toys, tentacles as well, and a lot of them, more of them than one can imagine, the multiverse was wild, and he's taken in some questionable things that he won't talk about, but will blame on his crazy college, and he's got to say ... this wasn't that bad, actually. He overreacted.

It actually felt kind of nice.

Powers leaned in again to close the gap between his chest and Stanford's back, and the van was hotter. It was the intimacy of the closeness that really got to Stanford, it was the lack of twitching in his shoulders that made him sigh in satisfaction and slump against the wall, letting himself be taken for a change.

,,You like that?" Powers pushed his other arm, right from the wrist to the elbow, down against Ford's shoulder blades to keep him down, but he doesn't use any force. Yet.

Ford nods.

Powers slips in a second, equally pleasant finger, and starts thrusting the two digits in and out, clearly taking the 'we should hurry up' seriously judging from the speed.

,,Aw, fuck -" Stanford spreads his legs, but there's only so much space he can move in when his pants are still around his thighs. The fabric dug into his skin.

Trigger lazily turns his head to Ford and smiles, amused ,,What'd you say before? Guy's a masochist?"

,,No!" Ford said, turning his head to look at the other agent.

,,Yes," said Powers, at the exact same time, but kept his eyes on Ford's back ,,Look,"

Powers pushed him down, clearly having had been waiting to do it since he's first put his hands on Ford's shoulders.

Stanford groans, because it hurt to be smashed against a metal wall, and he knew there wasn't an ounce of pleasure in that sound, despite the way the agents reacted. There might have been a higher tone at the end, but it wasn't dedicated to being pushed, more so to the fact that there were two fingers inside of him, and they've just split up, scissoring his asshole open.

,,Heh, he likes it," Trigger pats his partner on the back ,,Go on,"

,,With pleasure," Powers has yet again leaned back and therefore was in an acceptable distance for Ford to look back without it getting too weird and god-forbid, romantic, and he tries to glare at him.

However, when he finally twists his neck and pushes his eyes just to their limit, he has a clear view of agent Powers grabbing his tie and ripping his suit jacket open with his free hand while still keeping his left one inside Stanford. He's great at multitasking, because not only did he manage to look incredibly sexy just by unbuttoning his jacket, his fingers were doing wonders inside of Stanford.

Stanford's mouth opened because he wanted to say something, but since in the end he found himself too enamoured to speak, he only got to gasp as felt his prostate being poked at. The fingers twisted and looked for a better angle, hurting him in the process.

Agent Trigger put his hand on Ford's shoulder, and his eyes flash his way out of reflex, and he ends up watching the agent lean in until he presses his mouth down against Ford's, kissing him.

Stanford shut his eyes, and pursed his lips in protest. Powers made sure he was held down, and he couldn't yank his head away to escape the kiss, and so he spends a few seconds trapped by dry lips and a pushy tongue.

Trigger pulled back just as Powers pulled out, and this time, Ford was ready for the intrusion.

There was more fabric rustling, the bottle of lube that suddenly came back after disappearing a minute ago opened and the quiet squirt of the liquid dripping onto a palm gave Ford a great idea of what's about to happen.

,,Come on, come on," Stanford taunts quietly, more-so just encouraging himself than actually hurrying the agents. He yet again tries and fails to spread his legs further apart.

A hot cock forces itself between his ass-cheeks, staining them with cold lube before it finds his hole and pushes in.

It was thicker than he expected, and it wasn't only because he was tight.

,,Shit, so big -" Stanford holds his breath to stop himself from saying more, and Trigger makes it easier to do so by kissing him again. This time, he caught Ford off guard with his lips were slightly parted, and gave Ford no choice but to let his tongue pour into his mouth.

His body gave a fight against the penetration, and he does his best to focus on his shoulders and the pain in them, and not on the burning sensation that's slowly splitting him open. He tries to hunch down and relax, but it was hard to let himself be taken when it brought so much pain.

Ford manages to snap out of the kiss, taking a deep breath, then exhaling everything in his lungs at once, struggling massively until Powers bottomed out and leaned into his ear.

,,Breathe in," the arm he held to Ford's back stopped being so heavy just as Powers placed his other one down onto the wall, using it to support himself ,,Breathe out,"

Trigger scowls and shakes his head - nothing's more annoying than watching Powers act like a big boss and then suddenly go nice on a criminal. He doesn't get it, he really doesn't understand ,,What? Come on, don't go soft on him,"

After Powers is sure that Ford has followed on his orders and has calmed down, he feels him adjust on his cock, loosening ,,Come on, he'll let us kill him before he asks me to be gentle,"

,,He's right," Ford laughs, shoulders slouching slightly as the stretch turns more bearable, and he grows used to the cock inside of him.

,,And besides, I'm far from soft on him,"

Trigger scoffs in disbelief, leaning in momentarily to make Ford think he's getting kissed again.

,,Scumbag," he spat and then straightened up, nodding at his partner ,,Which charge should I get ready to forget?"

,,Theft," Powers replied without missing a beat.

Stanford groans - how many times will he have to do this to get all the accusations to disappear?

Powers starts to move, forcing Stanford to go off-balance with the rocking of his hips - he helps Ford to stay up on his feet by pushing him against the wall with his arm and refusing to release him, keeping him in his place.

It didn't hurt, not the arm on his back, not the hand grabbing his hip, neither did the thrusts. Powers' chest drove against his back every once in a while, and Ford doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but he has a hunch that the agent likes him.

Powers was far from soft, though. He was thrusting in without restraint and with a pace that Ford couldn't get a hold on no matter how hard he focused, and the grip he had on Ford's hip tightened, leaving an another bruise as a reminded of what will once be a dirty, shameful memory.

The worst part is that Ford likes this - he likes the thrill, he likes the lack of feelings and the coldness of the touches and the sudden surge of gentleness that comes from the other man, both approaches taking turns without a pattern. He likes the simplicity of this solution to his problem and he likes the fact that there are hands all over him telling him that while this is a business exchange, he's desired throughout it.

If a government official gave him the option to do this, it must mean that he's wanted. In more than one sense, really.

Stanford feels sexy like he hasn't in a long, long time.

He loosened up around the cock in his ass, arching his back to encourage it deeper, and in return, Powers grabbed him by the hair and yanked his face off of the wall, slamming it back down. The metal plate lining Stanford's skull hit the wall spot on, and there were two metallic clanks in the room.

The pain thumping through his head brought the pleasure to a different level and Stanford moans, knees going weak as the agent's cock brushes against his prostate.

Ford feels a hand go up his neck, and his blood turns cold as fingers travel up his pulse point. His eyes snap open, and he makes eye-contact with agent Trigger right as he grabbed Ford's jaw and tilted his head further to the side, forcing Ford to look at him.

,,I can't help but wonder what was on that flash drive, really," Trigger turns to his partner, and Powers just gives him an eye-roll.

Stanford grins, ,,Nothing you'd wa - ah - want to see," he stammers with every thrust delivered, brows furrowing despite how desperately he tries to keep his face composed while he stares back at agent Trigger.

He gasps as the thrusts intensify, and the angle of them changes, making the agent drive right into his sweet spot.

Despite the fact that he could see that Ford was falling apart under Powers' hold, the other agent continued to ask question, almost as if he was trying to make small talk ,,Gimme a hint - whatever you stole ... is it worth your dignity?"

Stanford closes his eyes - he isn't really in the right state of mind to be talking, not now that his knees keep buckling down and his cock is throbbing, looking for friction. He actually tries to move a hand down between his legs, before he remembers that he's still tied up.

,,Ugh, boy, when you get my age y - your priorities, they - they change, and your dignity, it - it's a warped, uh, concept," he mumbles out, mostly making it up as he goes. Powers kept a steady hold on his hip, Trigger had his hand on his jaw, but only one of them was making themself useful - Ford could feel hotness coil up in his stomach, clenching down on everything that's inside his gut, on every single organ and gland. He was getting close, as hard as he was finding it to believe, he might be about to come just with his sweet spot alone.

He really is feeling young today.

,,You're not a wise one, are you?" Trigger chuckles, looking at his partner to share his infectiously cheerful mood with him. Powers gives an another eye-roll, but the corner of his mouth does twitch.

Stanford is smart. He knows that, it's his best trait, and maybe it's not the most likable one, but it is an attribute one that he holds dear, an attribute he'll brag about until the his death and a title he'll defend from anyone who disagrees. But wise? He's never been called wise. He has life lessons to teach, sure, he has experience from which he can give genuine advice, but that's not being wise, that's still him being smart. But Stanford Pines is not a wise man. His decisions never suggested that.

Ford laughs, the sound straining and staggering ,,I'm getting fucked in a va - ah! - van, so, ugh, figure it out,"

Agent Trigger leans in for a kiss. It's as dry and clumsy as ever, and then when he's finished, his hand leaves Ford's face alone.

Powers still wasn't getting sloppy, in fact his thrusts seemed more coordinated than ever before, and it was driving Stanford crazy - every single time that thick cock pushed through, and the man's pelvis smacked against his ass, something between his thighs seized up and then relaxed, as if his muscles were confused whether Ford is about to come or not, and in return they refuse to act up on the burning pile of pleasure that's weighing him down by settling into his belly.

Stanford really wishes he had the luxury of using his arms, so that he could bite down into something other than his chipped and irritated lip to stifle his moans.

Powers did have the luxury of being able to use his hands, but it didn't look like he considered it needed - he was panting hard behind Ford, and while Ford might have not been able to see the man, he knew he was getting messy.

Trigger could see it, and he couldn't wait until it happens to him. Until sweat was battling his hair gel and all the movement was mangling his suit and everything felt a little too hot, a bearable type of hot, but only barely, just enough to drive him crazy but not enough to make him break the tough guy facade.

Stanford felt a strange tugging feeling down there, a familiar one that he hasn't had the chance to enjoy in a long, long time. He was going to come untouched, and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

Not when he's already trembling and gasping for air, feeling like everything inside his gut has moved up to his throat to make space for nothing but heat. And he comes.

He clenched down tight around the cock inside him, causing it to struggle with pulling out and driving back in.

His body goes slack, and his breathing gets even heavier than it was before, and Stanford would have fallen were it not for the wall in front of him and the hand that was pushing him against it.

He felt exhausted and overstimulated, and yet Powers refused to give him a break, continuing to move as if he didn't notice that Ford just came - he just didn't care. He didn't have to, or better yet, he didn't have a reason to.

As if the ringing in Stanford's ears wasn't enough, the walkie talkie in agent Trigger's hand cackled with static, and a voice came out.

,,All units, I repeat, all -"

Powers snatched the walkie from his partner, and lifted it to his mouth. Only when he spoke up it was apparent that he was as broken up as Stanford was - only Trigger could see that Powers' shirt had a sweat stain on it, and that his hair was slipping out of its sleek appearance, curling up with warm sweat.

,,All units - units stand d - down, stand down,"

A confused and angry ,,What?" comes out of the walkie, and Powers still didn't break a thrust, keeping up with his pace as he stammered into the walkie.

,,A - all units need to stand down and - and -" Powers interrupted himself with a wheeze ,,- retreat, all units retreat, we have a false alarm,"

Ford doesn't get to hear what the agents on the other side of the walkie have to say, since as soon Powers stutters out what he needed to say, the thing falls from his hand down onto the floor.

Powers puts both his hands on the wall, giving Ford's bruised hips a smack and he snaps his hips roughly.

Ford knows then that the man was tipping over the edge, coming inside of him. Ford shivers, and his eyes roll back as an another climax takes over him, intense pleasure that pooled up in his groin pulsing away. It was a dry one, and it made his heart race so fast that he thought it was going to stop any minute now.

Afterwards, Ford could stand on his own, as proven by agent Powers stepping away and him not tumbling to the floor immediately, and he began to relax, feeling warm come drip out of him slowly.

Just when he thought that Powers has stepped away, giving him his space, he momentarily glued himself down to Ford's back and spoke right into his ear ,,I'll give, you really are better than the last one. I think - I think I can excuse the assault as well. That's two charges down. You happy?"

Ford nods, not really listening or thinking about what was said, just trying to process what just happened to him. God, he forgot what it was like to have sex with a human man. It's like he's finally come home.

,,My turn,"

,,Huh?" Ford turned to agent Trigger, but it was too late - the man has already left his spot by Ford's side and twirled around him to stand behind his back.

Despite the fact that Trigger announced it, Stanford was unprepared to feel an another hard cock press into him. It didn't feel as big, but it was enough to make him feel stuffed to the teeth. He thought they might take breaks or something, he didn't expect for things to move this fast once the foreplay is done.

Powers really takes things way too slow.

But Ford liked that. He was growing to enjoy his time with agent Powers and his small talk with agent Trigger.

Though, he understands that time is tight. And he's not doing this for the sake of his own enjoyment, he's doing this because he wants to protect his research. The enjoyment is just a bonus. A big bonus. A big, good bonus. A big, thick, a little painful, fast, quick paced bonus.

He didn't even realize that at this point, he's a free man and he doesn't need to be here anymore. The mission has been called off, there's no more reasons to be whoring off. Other then, well, because it's fun.

Trigger wasn't wasting the little time they had left at all - he was fucking in earnest, putting that strength he had used to tackle Stanford earlier to a better use.

Ford felt raw and sore, adrenaline dying out for a moment and making him focus on all the bad things - the cuffs hurt, and his shoulders were aching again, this time with no relief in sight, his ass was bruised and so were his hips. His dick softened after he came, but as soon as the other man forced his cock up his abused hole, it started to slowly fill up with blood again. So far he was struggling to get fully erect, but he was sure that he was getting there.

Stanford was in pain, his neck was tilted to an unhealthy angle and it was starting to cramp. The man behind him was far from gentle and he could feel a pinching down in his dick that made him grit his teeth. The squelching sound that kept rising from where his body meets the other man's makes him feel filthy, and while the first time everything felt dry, now everything feels way too wet. And yet, he was finding it hard to keep his gasps and the occasional moans down.

He was exhausted and sore but he could feel his cock jolt back to life and grow hard again. Pleasure rushed back into his veins when the man hits his prostate spot on. Stanford's eyes fluttered and his mouth fell open with a squeak, each thrust sending a series of chills running down his spine.

Agent Powers replaced his partner's previous spot at Stanford's side, leaning against the wall and flicking a lighter on. Cigarette smoke filled the room, hitting Stanford right in the face.

Ford groans, refusing to open his eyes. His cock throbs, fully hard and ready to wrap up round two, and his legs start to shake, toes curling in his boots as he looses strength in all his bones and in all his muscles.

Agent Trigger was taking things too fast for a change, and Powers didn't seem like the kind of guy that's necessarily keen on having a talk. Ford is thankful for that - god, he cannot imagine what could come out of him if he was asked a genuine question and tried to answer. His voice is already hoarse, and even his thoughts are staggering. His eyes are rolling back, thankfully closed to shield him from putting a shameful look on his face.

Stanford can feel sweat drip down his forehead, he can taste it as it trickles down to his parted lips. He hears the man behind him fall apart as he delivers a one last thrust and with it, and a low groan, he finishes.

Stanford exhales, only now realizing that he's been holding his breath for the past few seconds. He pulled at his cuffs, hoping to put his hands on the wall to peel himself off of it, but just as he feared, he was still tied.

Agent Trigger seemed proud of how fast he handled it, and after he pulled out, he victoriously declared: ,,See, Tommy? This is how you do it!"

Stanford gasps when the man slaps his ass - clearly he was high on his own pleasure, strung by adrenaline and the like.

Agent Powers tilts his head, and comes closer, adjusting his suit as he takes the two steps it takes for him to replace his partner behind Ford's back - well, now Ford's just a man, really, clear of any accusations they might have thrown at him before. And he has nothing to make up for, no reason to comply, and yet he doesn't say anything as Powers slides his hands over his sore hips.

Stanford looks back, still panting with his cock out and throbbing, confused as to what's about to happen now.

Agent Powers reached down to his neck where his earpiece hung from across his shoulder, and he puts it back on. He licks his lips ,,What was on that flash drive?"

,,I'm - I'm not sure," Stanford laughs, feeling lightheaded ,,I honestly don't know where to plug it," he laughs harder - it helps to ease off the embarrassment of that reality.

Technically, he knows what's on the flash drive, but only in a broader sense. It's evidence of the supernatural and definitely information about his portal, or at least the mysterious electromagnetic waves it creates, but he isn't sure how the FBI interpreted all of this. It's for the better they don't know.

Powers scoffs ,,Great,"

He steps back, fixing his tie which has come undone a while ago, and then he takes Stanford by surprise, well, by his shoulders would the more appropriate term, and he flips Stanford around so that he's forced to face him.

,,Wha -" Stanford's eyes widen, and all the air leaves his lungs as he gets pushed against the wall, hitting it with the back of his head rather than the front this time - it's not that big of a change, and he doesn't enjoy either gesture. His back is straight against the wall, and his wrists are in an awkward position, and his hands started going numb. He doesn't even think about slipping out of the cuffs.

A hand slides down the front of his sweater, down his puffed up chest, down his clenching stomach, all the way to the heavy prize to which the trickle of hair on his belly leads to.

The hand wraps around his cock, and tugs at it. Stanford opens his mouth, and a high pitched sound that lasts way too long makes its way out of his throat, eyes open and staring back at the man in front of him as he doesn't even budge.

Stanford looks away, accidentally turning to the other agent, who was currently giving Powers an eye roll. Trigger checked his watch, and then kicked into the walkie on the ground, tucking it under a bench.

Powers draws the attention back to himself by speaking up ,,You know, I do this kind of thing all the time. I have been doing it for a long time now,"

Ford didn't know, but he didn't think he can argue, so he just turns to the man and nods. The fingers around his cock were chilly and clumsy, stroking him slowly but firmly. He was already close.

,,And I've never been so curious," it seemed like there was supposed to be a point at the end, but Powers cuts himself off abruptly, leaning in for a kiss.

Stanford really should have brought it up sooner that this is not what he signed up for. His dislike for the kisses does not come from a hygienic standpoint, since this whole ordeal is a one large mess, and it doesn't come from a dislike for kissing itself - he just doesn't like getting caught off-guard like this, with a tongue shoved into his mouth and a pair of dry lips smashing against his. It's always unexpected for some reason, and his heart jumps when it happens.

He swears, he's going to get a heart attack in this goddamn van. He's going to get fucked to death. Or at least that's what it feels like as a third orgasm is pulled out of him, chest burning hot and his throat tightening His body is beyond wrecked now, every muscle wrung out and exhausted as the pleasure touches every fiber of his being.

The rough hand on his cock gives it a firm squeeze, wiping off the very few drops of come that spilled out. The after glow thuds inside Ford's head along with a minor concussion.

The kiss breaks, leaving Ford panting, and whatever point Powers was about to make was forgotten in the haste.

Agent Powers stepped back, and lifted his hands, ready to close his suit jacket, but when he remembered that his fingers are filthy on one hand. He lowers it, and wipes the come on his fingers into Stanford's sweater. Then, he finally closes the buttons on his jacket, and adjusts his ear piece.

Stanford straightens up, and cracks his neck, trying to relax the muscle he's pulled while pushed against the wall, and he looks down where his pants hung around his hips ,,I - I guess this - this is it? I'm free to go?"

Agent Trigger reaches into his pockets, and takes out a small key ,,Turn around,"

Ford nods, and follows the order, swiftly flipping around on his heel to face the wall.

Agent Trigger walks up to him from behind, and leans in ,,Can I ask you a question? Man to man?"

Stanford squinted and briefly looked back at the agent to snap back an annoyed: ,,What?"

Agent Trigger lowers his voice, and takes his earpiece out for a change ,,What do you do to keep your ass that firm? Because I mean, considering your age, it's - it's something,"

Stanford eyed the man up and down, and his face twisted into an offended grimace ,,Excuse me?"

Powers called out after his partner as he was adjusting his cufflinks ,,Agent Trigger?"

,,Yeah?"

,,Don't get distracted,"

,,Yeah, right,"

Ford finally gets to hear the cuffs rattle and the key turn in the keyhole, and then the metal around his wrist loosens, slipping down right into the agent's hands. The first thing Ford does once his hands are free is pull up his pants and close his belt, pretending he's collecting up his dignity as he fixes up his clothes.

Agent Trigger tucked the cuffs back into his jacket's pocket, looking up at Stanford as he rubbed the tender bruises on his wrists. Trigger backs off, and follows his partner to the van door, opening it up for him.

Stanford found out that walking back to the house is not going to be easy. His asscheeks are rubbing smoothly against each other with the help of lube and come, sending chills of disgust through him, and between his tired knees and sore hips, there was an obvious ache right in his asshole that he knows will bother him for the rest of the day.

Ford limped out of the van, only to be grabbed by one of the agents again, and pulled aside, pushed against the side of the van. Again.

Agent Powers grabs him by his sweater ,,You listen to me carefully, Pines - you've paid off your charges, but there's still something you need to do,"

,,Wha -"

,,Neither of us want to waste an another visit to this shithole, you know. So, to avoid it, I want you to destroy the flash drive,"

,,Yes, yes, of course, I'll - I'll destroy it," Stanford nods, looking over at agent Trigger, who gives him a serious look just as he passes by on his way to the front of the van. He disappears from Ford's line of view when he leans against the front bumper.

,,Great, we're square then," Powers takes his hands off of Stanford's sweater, patting it to smooth over the crease he's left in it ,,We're all done here. You've ... you've done well,"

Stanford scoffs, looking down at his sweater and tugging at the spot Powers had flattened ,,Yeah?"

Agent Powers leans in, and Ford feels his hands sneak across his waist and then down to his ass. The man didn't hold anything back as he groped Ford, pulling him closer, and as his hands ran free, he hooked Ford's holster back into his belt.

,,Oh, okay, uh - this is - this, uh -" Stanford squirms, trying to push the other man away. He keeps averting his face, trying to escape the kiss that's coming his way, but in the end, Ford gives in and meets Powers half-way through.

It didn't last long before the agent pulled away ,,I don't regret letting you get away with this,"

Ford cuts in ,,Oh, hurray for FBI's dedication to the country,"

Powers made an amused 'hmph' and backed off, checking his watch real quick ,,You know, you make a good whore,"

Stanford has all the time in the world to beat up this asshole, or at least object to that absolutely uncalled for claim, but what Ford really wants right now is get rid of that damn flash drive thing-y and never have to deal with the government ever again. So he sucks it up.

,,Thank you," Ford said sarcastically.

Powers straightens up, and puts his hands into his pockets, trying to seem dignified ,,Have a great day, Mr.Pines,"

,,Okay ..." Stanford takes a step to the side, giving agent Powers a wary look as he made his way to the front of the van, joining his partner.

Ford speeds up a little, and once he's far enough from the van to be sure neither of the agents have a clear view of him, he wipes his mouth into his sleeve, sticking out his tongue - he'd rather taste fabric for the next few minutes than to endure the taste of come that was going stale in his mouth.

It was a short walk back home, since the agents literally parked their van right on the Mystery Shack parking lot, and soon enough, he was closing the door behind himself.

His eyes were wide when he entered, and he felt a little dizzy.

That was certainly an experience, he thinks as he stands in the hallway, constantly raising his arms just high enough to lift a lecturing finger, and opening his mouth as if he were about to say something out loud, but finding himself unable to make sense of the situation.

What should he do now?

Should he just get back to work? Should he sit down in the kitchen above that cursed crossword puzzle and wonder about what happened? Is there really any aspect of this that he can explain to himself? Probably not.

Well, despite the shame coiling up in his chest trying to say different, it definitely happened, he knows because everytime his body tenses up a little he can feel come spill out of him, which is exactly what made him lean back against the door and blush.

Well, whoring himself out for freedom was probably not the best way he could have handled this situation, but it seemed to have worked out better than any other scenario might have.

Yeah, be should so this more often! Or not. That's a stupid thought.

He needs an another shower.