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“Excuse me.. Can I help you?” Stanford had just returned to the Mystery Shack after investigating Gravity Falls’s latest phenomenon with his nephew, who had gone to hang out with some friends for the rest of the night. It was quite late, and the house should have been empty; Soos was on his honeymoon with Melody, Wendy never worked late if she didn’t have to, and Stanley was off teaching Mabel how to scam other people at casinos. Business as usual.
Needless to say, Ford was surprised to see an unfamiliar man sitting at the table when he got in. He was even more surprised to discover that he was English.
“Sorry. Sort of let myself in, hope you don’t mind.” The red head stood up to get a proper look around, then at the man. “Pretty strange shop you got going here. Do you run it?”
“No, my brother and his employees run it, bit of a scam if you ask me but- sorry, who are you?”
“Are you not, ughh… Stan Pines?” the strange man asked while reading from a paper which seemed to appear out of nowhere, but maybe Ford was just going mad.
“I’m one of them.” The intruder looked confused at this, so he clarified, “I’m Stanford. I take it you’re looking for my brother, Stanley.”
“Oh.. my mistake. I’ll wait here for him then.”
“Sir, I don’t know who you are, but I must kindly ask that you leave my house. Now.”
The trespasser did not leave his house. He did, however, continue to wander about the lobby he found himself in.
“What do you want with him anyway?” Ford questioned.
“Oh, nothing that concerns you. Business.” He flashed a grin which Ford couldn’t quite read.
Stanford’s face turned stern, and he said with a shadow of concern in his voice, “What kind of business?”
“I was sent here on assignment is all. You worry to much. Reminds me of my husband.” The man in glasses uttered the last bit to himself, but not enough that Ford didn’t hear.
Realization creeped onto Stanford’s face as the man continued to roam through the gift shop. Approaching him, Ford had a pleading look on his face that said please not him. He can’t be back, not after everything. He reached for the man’s dark glasses, and ripped them off his face.
Ford stumbled back, horrified, when he saw yellow, slitted eyes facing him.
“That was weird … Are you alright?” The man asked.
Ford drew a gun out of his coat and aimed at the man before him, causing his arms to fly up in alarm. “What are you doing here!? How are you back?!” Ford demanded.
The intruded looked confused and said, “Sorry, have we met?” before ducking from the shot escaping his attacker’s gun. “What the hell?!”
“Bill, I demand you leave this man’s body at once, and return to your own dimension, before I send you there myself!”
He stammered, still dodging blasts, “Who the fuck is Bill?”
Stanford wasn’t going to put up with Cipher’s games, and continued firing at his target. He watched as the man waved his hand about in an oddly methodical pattern, which he assumed was Bill summoning his henchmen to back him.
Which wasn’t all that far off.
Before Ford registered what had happened, another man, this one dressed entirely in tan and tartan, had been standing in front of him. Not giving Ford a chance to fight back, he simply snapped his fingers, somehow sending the gun across the room. In that same moment, an unknown forced caused Ford to sink to his knees, unable to move.
Having done what he came for, the man turned on his heel and walked over to his opposite. “Darling, are you alright?” Also English, Stanford observed.
“Yea, m’alright. Thanks. Bit overkill though.” The two looked at each other for a moment, then at the man bound before them.
“I’m not sure what you did, but I demand that you let me go, Bill!”
“Oh, I’ve had quite enough of your demands.” The man in tartan scoffed.
“It’s fine. He doesn’t have a gun anymore, he can’t do anything, angel. Love to see him try though...”
The other let out a hmm and waved his hand through the air once more. Just then, Ford’s body relaxed from the position it was stuck in, and he sprang to his feet. “Who are you? Why are you helping him? What has he offered you?”
“You really want to berate me for answers, when you’re the one who just tried to kill my husband?” Ford had expected several possible answers, but not that.
“I’m not sure who you think I am, but if you’ll calm the fuck down, I’ll chat with you. Got it?”
Ford paused, considering his options; either to agree and talk, or run and grab his gun. He reluctantly chose the former.
The three sat at the small table in the room past the gift shop. “Why do you keep calling me Bill?”
“I’m not playing your games, triangle.”
“The fuck?” Ford looked as if he bested his enemy. “Okay. Who is this ‘Bill’?” He didn’t say anything. “Look, I know you think that’s who I am, and I’m not, but even if I were, there wouldn’t be any harm in explaining who I am anyway, yes?” He sounded frusterated.
“Euughhh… fine. Bill is a powerful demon with one yellow eye that possesses humans to do his dirty work. Sometimes he’s a triangle, sometimes he’s a twink.”
The red head blinked. “Right.. well, not Bill, not a triangle, not a twink-”
“Well..” the blonde man interjected, which earned him an annoyed look from his partner.
“Oh really, then why do you have those eyes?” Ford accused.
“Well, you got the demon bit right, just the wrong one.” He responded with a chuckle.
“Why should I believe you’re telling the truth?”
He jabbed a thumb in his husbands direction. “Well, you have his word as an angel.”
Stanford looked in his direction, and was met with a kind smile, as if the same man hadn’t been dangerously fierce only minutes earlier.
“So.. you’re not Cipher then?”
“Cipher? That’s what this is about?” He bellowed, erupting with laughter. “No, I’m not him.”
“Then who are you?”
“Crowley, pleased to meet you.’ He grinned and held out a hand, but swiftly withdrew it saying, “Ah, if you’re scared of Cipher, probably not a fan of handshakes then.”
“I’m not scared of him..” Ford muttered. He still seemed wary. “You know him?”
“Not much. Haven’t actually met the bastard, but he used to hang around some other demon I know. No one’s conformed nor denied, but I’m sure they shagged at some point.”
The angel smacked Crowley on the arm, which got Ford’s attention. “And you are?”
“You can call me Mr. Fell” he said brightly.
“And, you’re an..”
“Angel, yes. Lovely to meet you. I never actually caught your name.”
“Stanford. I’ve never met an angel. I wouldn’t have guessed tartan. Or bowties.”
“Well he’s, erm, eclectic like that.” Crowley said.
“Sorry for the mistake. You could see how it happened, I’m sure. Could I possibly ask you two a billion questions about ethereal and occult beings?”
Mr. Fell looked at Crowley, who nodded. “Don’t see why not. Anthony’s got me stuck here, as I can’t teleport twice in a 48 hour period.”
“I thought you said your name was Crowley?”
“Well it is. ‘Anthony’ is what he calls me when he’s angry with me. Quite human of him, I say.” The angel rolled his eyes at his husband, but still managed to look at him with an indescribable fondness. The sort that was almost… ineffable, Ford thought.
“An angel and a demon in love. Who knew. Mabel’s gonna love this!”