Chapter Text
“So did you talk to her yet?” Ford’s voice was low in tone, keeping the words from traveling to the few people that occupied the space aside from themselves. Stan shook his head as he watched Soos talk to a couple tourists near the front door. Evening was fast approaching and the shack would be closed soon. The sun going down cast strong shadows across their faces.
“No, not yet.” Stan responded through a yawn, taking a moment to stretch his shoulders before he resumed a leaning position against the counter. Ford’s eyebrows knit together in a mildly confused line before it turned into more of a scowl.
“For gods sake. What were you doing all afternoon then?” Stan rolled his eyes to the ceiling, his arms crossed across his chest as he deflected Ford’s question. Ford grimaced and huffed in mildly disgusted recognition. “How often do you need to fulfill that…need? You’re worse than rabbits.”
“As many times as she’ll let me. Besides, I can’t think of a better way to spend vacation.” Stan mumbled back, not wanting to project his voice across the room too loudly. Ford began to scold him before Stan waved a hand dismissively towards his brother. “It’s fine, I have a plan. We go out tonight, all four of us. Have some drinks, lighten the mood. Butter her up. Women love that sort a thing.”
“You think she’ll be more likely to say yes if she’s inebriated?” Ford asked flatly with a cocked eyebrow.
“Gotten me to say yes on more than one occasion.” Stan said, shrugging. Ford eyed him skeptically. “I’ll grease the wheels, so to speak. Let me work my magic on her.”
“I know you’ve managed to be a decent businessman…somehow. But that doesn’t mean you can convince any one of anything.” Ford sighed as he eyed the window. “I haven’t even been able to speak to Fiddleford that deeply on the subject. I just came back to see my equations double checked and his own notes throughout Honey’s file.”
“Well that’s gotta be a good sign, right?” Stan asked, shrugging towards his twin. Ford shrugged back, flinching a little at whatever thought crossed his mind.
“He’d always been very… helpful with my work, even if he didn’t always see the need for it. But it’s been…a lot of years. I don’t know if he’d do it just for me anymore.” His last words were almost too quiet to be heard, straining Stan’s ears as he attempted to make out the statement.
“Looked to me like he was ready to bend over backwards for ya’.” Stan smirked, his eyebrow cocked as his brother’s face nearly melted into a red puddle of flustered frustration. “Take a breath, Sixer. You look like you’re about to pop.” Ford closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before leveling a glare back at his brother.
“I told you that… what you saw is not up for any discussion. I want neither of you to mention it.” Stan shook his head at his overly serious brother.
“Lighten up. Afraid to let people know you’re actually human after all and not some big…science robot?” Ford raised his eyebrow at that.
“Science robot? That’s the best you could come up with?” He scoffed a little.
“Shut up. Look, I’ve sold chocolate coins to a leprechaun before. This’ll be a piece a cake. Give me some time to work on it. I already told her it was happenin’ anyways.” Stan gave his brother a winning smile, trying his best to convince him of his confidence in persuasion. He could see the words churning through his brother’s mind, sinking in as he contemplated the plan Stan had come up with.
“Fiddleford did always appreciate a strong drink…” Ford finally stated, his tone reluctantly permissive.
“Atta boy.” Stan said, pushing himself up off the counter of the gift shop before clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Go give crazy a call and invite him out so we can get this show on the road.” Ford scowled at that response.
“He’s just eccentric.” He rebutted, crossing his arms defensively.
“Whatever you gotta tell yourself. I’m gonna go find Honey.” Stan grunted as he pushed himself up off the counter, waving over his shoulder as he made his way down the hall. He didn’t bother to wait to see Ford’s reaction, he knew his brother would call. The look in his eyes said he wanted to. Besides, Stan had seen how many times he’d called the mansion before McGucket showed up at their place. Ford may not want to admit it, but to Stan it was obvious.
As Stan moved into the living room he spotted the two kids sitting comfortably in the yellow chair together, engulfed in whatever d-list horror movie ended up on public access that day. It only took him a few strides to move between them and the picture on the screen, eliciting a loud groan from both of them as he looked down at the two twins.
“Grunkle Stan move! We’re gonna miss the twist where it turns out it was his sister in disguise!” Dipper whined.
“Dipper! You ruined the ending!” Mabel huffed, trying to lean around Stan’s looming figure to see the screen.
“Hey, listen to me. Soos is in charge of you guys tonight. Ford and I got a business deal we gotta take care of, so don’t get into any trouble I gotta take care of when we get back.” He crossed his arms across his chest, trying to sound serious as screams emanated from the movie behind him.
“Business deal? I thought you were going on a date.” Dipper asked, furrowing his brow into an accusatory look. Mabel’s face started to bubble the way it did when she was entirely too excited about something. Damn kid, how did he even hear about it?
“No. No date. Business deal.” He said, trying to shut it down before it escalated.
“So then Honey will be here tonight?” Mabel asked enthusiastically.
“No. Besides, you two are no longer allowed to hang out together. Not after this morning.” Mabel pouted at that statement.
“So where will she be if she won’t be here, but it’s not a date?” Dipper asked, still pushing it. Stan groaned and rolled his eyes at the kid.
“Don’t worry about it. Geesh, you two are nosey! I’m sure Soos has some fun thing planned for you two tonight. Why don’t you go find him?” Stan offered, gesturing towards the gift shop generally.
“Because we’re trying to finish our movie you’re blocking.” Dipper retorted sarcastically to his rhetorical question. Stan huffed but left it at that, turning to make his way upstairs. After everything that had happened over the past month, the last thing he really wanted was more intervention from either of the kids. He could hear Honey before he walked into the room, singing to herself as she often did now when she thought no one could hear her. Since Ford dampened her hearing it was a much more common occurrence. She was easier to sneak up on, and it made Stan endlessly nervous to think about her being out and about.
He didn’t bother to knock on the door, preferring to catch her unaware. He liked to hear her squeak when she was startled. This time he was met with her guilty gaze instead, her tensing as she withdrew her hands from the larger middle desk drawer. She had pulled multiple things out, laying them across the desk in a small jumble. Honey sat back in his large desk chair, her towel barely clinging to her body as she smiled innocently at him, her fingers caressing the leather of his Pa’s small siddur.
“I didn’t know you were Jewish.” Her voice tinged with curiosity. Stan laughed a little at that, shaking his head. She would learn everything about him, regardless of what he did apparently. He wondered a bit if she was trying to distract from the fact she’d been caught so faithfully snooping still.
“Not practicing. My Pa…” Honey nodded slowly as she flipped open the cover with her thumb to reveal his Pa’s very neat script. Nowadays it reminded him of Ford’s handwriting. For such a crass man, Filbrick had lovely penmanship. His smile faltered as he moved to gently close the book. “We called the kids for Hanukkah this last winter, but that’s the first time I’ve thought about it in a long time. Pa was old school.. It wasn’t a choice until I was out on my own. I tried to go back once.. It was..” He struggled to describe the crushing weight walking into temple had given him when he went back all those years ago. Honey cut in before he could finish the thought.
“It was like the dinner?” Her words were quiet, but understanding and delicate. He tried to respond, but after a few seconds of choking over his own words, he just nodded. At his lowest, he really thought maybe talking to god would do something for him. But when the scripture had begun, all he heard instead was his Pa. He spent the next two days blackout drunk after that. She let him slip the leather bound tome from her red tipped fingers to tuck it up on top of the filing cabinet where he didn’t have to look at it. “He wouldn’t have liked me, would he?” Her voice was wrapped in a grimacing tone.
“I’m not sure he really liked anyone.” Stan stated flatly. Maybe his Ma? But their affection had been few and far between from what he did remember of his childhood. Her face had dropped its charming smile as she contemplated that statement.
“I just meant I figured he would’a wanted you to find an orthodox girl. Not a… well, whatever you want to call me.” Honey’s eyes looked tinged with hurt on his behalf. He shook his head as he watched her rise up from behind the desk, leaving the small mess behind as she made her way to his side. Stan smirked, trying to push the uncomfortable topic past them as he wrapped an arm around her damp waist. The back of the towel had been soaked through from her blond mane. He tucked his other large hand under her chin, tilting her face up to his own to see her better in the glow of the setting sun that spilled over the room.
“I don’t know that it would’a mattered.” He murmured, before pressing a small kiss to her forehead.
“It would have to me. I want at least someone in your family to like me.” She huffed back quietly. He tilted his head at her, smiling at the pout that had formed on her pink lips.
“The kids love you.” He offered as she pulled away. She frowned a little as she grabbed her hair brush, trying to twist her arms in a weird position to draw it all the way down her back. She struggled, failing to pull it all the way down so that when she pulled her hand away, the strands webbed out and made more of a mess.
“Mabel likes me.” She conceded, before adding, “I think Dipper is still a little suspicious of me.” Stan exhaled sharply through his nose at that, moving behind her and grabbing the brush from her struggling hands. Carefully he began at the ends, easing the feet long locks apart. For once she stood still, letting him take charge of the task.
“Dipper is a little suspicious of everyone and everything.” He countered, taking long strokes through her hair with her little silver hairbrush. It was antique, inlaid with pearl. Probably would fetch a pretty penny if sold.
“Ford doesn’t like me any better.” She said it with finality, as if that should be the nail in the coffin on his feelings for her. She was so often playful and giddy he was always a bit caught off guard by the severity that could occupy her little being.
“Ford likes you plenty. Besides, tonight is a good chance to try and make nice.” Stan offered. If she was trying to impress Ford, maybe that would make it easier. He finished coaxing the tangles from her hair, handing her back the brush as she admired the smoothness he had achieved.
“You’re surprisingly good at that..” She said softly, laying the brush down on the desk next to the other various things she had pulled out. A couple of old pictures of him and Ford, a couple slips with old phone numbers, a mini spoon he thought he had thrown away a long time ago and some of his old coded number books from his racetrack days.
“Mabel gets her hair tangled all the time. She’s always got glue or glitter in it.” Stan dismissed with a small hand wave. He took a moment to take in all the artifacts of his life she had taken out, contemplating. “What’re ya’ lookin’ for anyways, princess?” Honey shrugged as she pawed through the clothes she had brought along, looking for something to wear for the night.
“Nothing really.” Her feigned innocence was a bit frustrating sometimes. Had they not just agreed to try and talk more? She’d been caught red handed. What questions could she possibly have he wouldn’t be willing to an answer? His own questions danced on the tip of his tongue, all he decided against. He couldn’t pry yet. Tonight certainly wasn’t the night to antagonize her.
Stan moved around the desk, using his palm to scoot everything back into the main drawer before pushing it closed again with a little thump. Honey turned her back to him to drop her towel, pretending to pay no mind to her task being interrupted. He noticed she was often measured in her responses and movements, but she did not always have the best poker face. It was easy to see people didn’t often look past the facade of her construction and she used it to her advantage. She could distract easily. But Stan found himself getting better at reading what she meant in her eyes, which betrayed most of her feelings before she had a chance to check them. Right now she wanted him to come to her, and not mess with whatever task she had at hand before he walked in.
He took the moment to slip open a different drawer she hadn’t been in yet, grabbing a small green velvet box from deep inside. The light, little object fit comfortably into his jean pocket, the drawer closing again without her seeming to notice. Her hand wound around the curtain of obscuring hair to draw it away from the delicate curve of her lower back, exposing the pert ass underneath. She looked over her shoulder, her sweeping eyelashes batting at him in invitation. She practically glowed in the golden hour. How much time did they have before McGucket got there?
It didn’t matter, he thought to himself as he crossed back over to Honey, taking advantage of the invitation eagerly. Stan took a moment as he found himself behind her to place his hands along her hips, grabbing the plush flesh that existed here first. After the week apart, it had been hard to not touch her at every opportunity he was afforded. It felt desperate, urgent even. He honestly couldn’t imagine a world where she wanted this forever, but every moment he was offered had been taken without second thought.
“What should I wear tonight?” Honey asked, her hands reaching behind her to find his hair, her fingers immediately messing up any attempt he had made earlier to style it. He hummed softly at the question.
“Something comfortable. We’re going to a place called Flaming Saddles. Seemed like a fun place to take ya.” He responded in a mumbled tone against her neck. She shifted a little to look at him over her shoulder.
“The gay cowboy bar?” She furrowed her brow a little. Stan shrugged and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her naked body closer to him. He didn’t really want to know why she was familiar with it already, or questions about why he was either. Confusion quickly transformed into recognition however as she thought she put two and two together. “Oh, I get what’s going on. We’re trying to get Fidds and Ford to break down some walls, huh?” Honey looked elated, prompting him to pull her closer, pressing his lips gently to her shoulder and neck.
“Fidds?” He scoffed softly at the familiar nickname before shaking his head at her. She was almost as bad as Mabel. Women, he thought as he rolled his eyes. “Calm down a little, now. I wanted to spend some time with my girl, too. No need to get yourself too wrapped up into those two nerds love story. They’ll figure it out.” He placed his teeth against her neck, pressing them in so they left little indents against her delicate skin. “Ford’ll probably have an aneurism if you try anyways.” Words mumbled again against the heat of her pulse as he lost himself in the vanilla scent of her skin.
Honey sucked in a small breath as he pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it a little to watch her squirm in his hands. He loved putting her a little on edge. Her body was always so willing for him and he wanted nothing to change in that. Almost as soon as he had began to get lost in his mental checklist of places he liked to squeeze however, a knock at the door tensed them both.
“What is it?” Stan called, not willing to let go yet as Honey shivered softly in his hold. She turned, not willing to lose his attention even for a second, her lips trailing searing, wet kisses over his collar bone and the hollow of his neck. Ford’s voice came not a couple seconds later.
“Stanley, open the door. You know how I detest yelling through doors.” He sighed loudly enough for his brother to hear, giving Honey one last good squeeze and pat on the ass before letting her go and moving to the door.
“What?” his voice was half cut off as he opened the door. He expected his brother to be annoyed with one thing or another, but instead nervousness danced in his eyes.
“I called.” Ford was breathless, finishing his sentence in a way that told Stan he should understand the urgency of the situation, although he didn’t.
“And?” Stan pressed on, unsure what to read from his brother’s panicked expression.
“He said yes.” Ford nearly whispered. Stan started to crack a smile before a low chuckle started to bubble up from his chest. His brother had a date and he was melting down because of it.
“Good. What time will he be here? Also you can’t wear this.” Stan gestured up his brother’s form, leaning against the door just enough to keep Honey obscured behind him. Ford, ever semi-formal, was dressed in one of his usual turtle necks and black slacks. Stan thought he always looked like a college professor, which was not the vibe for the evening.
“What? Am I supposed to look like a country bumpkin like you?” Ford grimaced looking at his brothers get up for the night. Of course, Stan had the benefit of knowing the venue for their evening, but Ford still would have been too formal for anywhere in town.
“Yes. Put on some jeans and a button down, at least. Don’t embarrass me tonight, Sixer. I’ve got a reputation to keep up.” Stan smirked at Ford’s shocked expression.
“Don’t embarrass you? I hardly see how that would be possible.” Ford sputtered. He could hear Honey snickering behind him, tickled by his antagonizing.
“Now don’t take it personally. I know you don’t have a lot of experience in this. Just follow my lead. Go find something more casual.” With that Stan grabbed Ford’s tensed shoulders, spinning him around towards the stairs. “Oh, how long will it be before McGucket gets here?”
“Thirty minutes.” Ford called behind him as he made his way back down the stairs. Stan cursed softly under his breath. Thirty minutes wasn’t enough time. When he turned around, he realized it didn’t matter anyways. Honey had dressed quickly while he had been chatting. She had settled on a pair of cutoffs short enough to let some of her ass peek out and a red tank top. In a small mirror she sat on her knees at the end of the bed, her delicate touch dedicated to placing a black line above her lashes.
“Meet me downstairs, doll. I need to go make sure stuffy dresses right.” Honey giggled again at his response, but was too focused on putting on her makeup to respond.
Stan spent the next thirty minutes trying to convince Ford to wear something that didn’t cover every inch of skin outside of his face and hands. He understood why he didn’t often though. Ford had some god awful tattoos. Once they had finally all found their way into Stan’s El Diablo, the awkwardness of the night fully began to set in. Honey tried desperately to keep the conversation going as they left to the furthest edges of town. It mostly resulted in McGucket and Ford speaking way out of her depth on sciences she was not as well versed in, leaving her speechless while one or the other talked excitedly to each other mostly.
The saloon styled bar sat in a quiet lot on an older, otherwise empty road far into the ancient redwoods that loomed large over everything. Loud, decade old country music spilled into the night as Stan pulled up to the edge of the lot. He shifted to look at the two others in the back seat, shifting his eyes towards the door of the bar as he looked at Ford. Ford furrowed his brow but didn’t question it, instead inching out of the back as he opened the door. Fiddleford followed behind, both still chatting without pause about the viability of nanotechnology in everyday application. Stan rolled his eyes as they started towards the building.
Before Honey could slip out of the car Stan grabbed her wrist, holding it for a moment before he drew his fingers down to her hand. Turning it over in his own, he rubbed his thumb against the soft flesh of her palm. Honey’s lips turned into a mischievous smile as she looked over his shoulder at the bar.
“Did you park all the way out here for a reason?” They were a decent distance away from any other cars in the lot and she obviously eked out he had a reason for that.
“It’s not the worst idea.” Stan chuckled softly, shaking his head a little. “That’s only part of the reason I parked out here. You had me thinkin’.” Hesitation hit him for a brief moment. “Turn around for me, doll.” Her eyes issued questions but she turned away from him, her fingers fidgeting nervously in her lap as Stan fished the small box from his pocket. Flipping it open, he withdrew a delicate golden chain adorned with a pea sized ruby.
“There is one person I know would’a loved ya’. No questions asked.” He unclasped the chain, tucking it under her chin before drawing it back around her neck and under her pool of hair. “This was my Ma’s. She only wore it on special occasions.”
Honey’s hand hovered over the small jewel, turning to look at Stan with wide eyes once he had it clasped behind her neck. Her eyes shimmered indecipherably to him, a mixture of emotions dancing across her face. She shifted towards him slightly, her hands moving towards his own so they were intertwined in his own lap. She was nearly shaking, but from excitement, upset? He wasn’t sure.
“Stanley, I can’t…I…” She stammered, struggling to explain herself just as he did earlier. Stan just shook his head, letting go of one hand to press a palm against her thigh as he spoke, trying to calm what he was now reading as panic.
“You can. I want ya’ to. You’re important to me, Honey. I wanted ya to know…” He wanted to say more. Wanted to explain himself better, but talking about his real emotions had never been his strong suit. This was the best way he knew how to show it. Honey closed her mouth to swallow her arguments, giving a small nod.
“Thank you. I’ll cherish it.” Her words were whispers, her fingers moving back up to the glinting stone. Stan smiled, closing the small gap to run his hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face so he could place three small kisses against her cheek, jaw and ending just below her ear. The tenseness in her melted with his affection, the hand he had rested on her thigh moving to her hip with a greedy squeeze. Jewelry usually had a lady head over heels, why did she look like she’d just been asked to jump off a cliff?
Honey leaned back slightly into the door panel, running her thumb over his cheek as she held his face. Her eyes scanned his for a moment, searching for something. But after a few silent moments, she relented into his lips. Her kiss was rough and desperate, pouring unknown emotions into him until he felt dizzy. Stan pulled back, panting softly now that he could breathe. He hadn’t even started drinking and she made him feel like a drunken fool. Honey’s gaze had become much softer than before, her enamored and reverent touch returning to stroke the stubble of his jaw. Stan cleared his throat as he nodded toward the bar, knowing Ford would return soon if they didn’t head in now.
“You ready to party, princess?” He teased, letting the thumb that stroked her hip slip between the fabric to touch her bare skin. A smile he hadn’t realized he was so desperate to see finally pulled at the corners of her mouth, a small giggle emanating from her as her giddy energy returned.
“Show me what it’s all about, cowboy.”
With those words he ushered her out of his car and inside arm in arm. The bar was already packed with people milling about in an unorganized manner. The familiar smell of sweat and sawdust mixed with spilled liquor assaulted his nose as he pushed his way through, keeping Honey close to his body so she would not be shoved over. Where was Ford? Stan was honestly surprised he hadn’t glued himself to the door until he made his way in.
After a couple of minutes looking, he finally eyed the two in a small booth in a more secluded corner, nursing beers and talking closely. Stan snorted a little, smirking as he stood a moment to watch. Ford’s hand was on Fiddleford’s arm, squeezing just slightly as they laughed together. Honey tugged softly at his arm, drawing his attention back down to her.
“Hey, let’s go to the bar real quick.” She said, tugging him in the direction of the polished four sided bar that stood in the middle of the place serving the flood of people. Very attractive and well-muscled men tended each side, courteous and engaging as they went customer to customer getting beer out like a well oiled machine. Honey slid up with a small wink to one of the men who abandoned a customer mid-conversation and beelined it to her without a second thought.
Like old friends Honey slid her hands into his, squeezing both as she beamed at him, the full force of her charms focused in. Stan crossed his arms as he watched the display, observing her lips as she talked closely to the bar man. While only a few feet away, the music pounded loud enough to drown out any hope of hearing what they were talking about even if he had been wearing his hearing aids. She gestured generally to the area where his brother occupied with his date before her hand slipped into her pocket. His jaw nearly met the floor as she slid four hundred dollar bills across the bar with a small raise of her eyebrows that read to him as ‘understand?’.
Where the hell had all that money come from? And why was she dropping it on the bar now? Questions he would certainly try to ask her later. Almost as quickly as the money had appeared, it disappeared into the hands of the bartender who promptly nodded before handing her four beers as well as four shots of tequila. Honey smiled and gave her compliments and thanks before turning back to him, tilting her head in the direction of the waiting shots. He squeezed past her to grab them before following her back to the booth.
“Howdy, boys. How’s things over here?” Honey sat the drinks on the table in front of them, reserving two shots for herself that she knocked back immediately before anyone had a chance to respond. Stan smirked, following suit by knocking back the other two. He let out a shuddering breath as the liquor burned down his throat. His entire body buzzed pleasantly, giving him a little shiver. He scooted into the side of the booth before grabbing Honey by the waist and pulling her down so her thighs split over his knee. Her core was warm against the denim of his jeans, her hips wiggling slightly as she settled onto him with a satisfied smirk.
Ford looked a little flushed as he watched their public display of affection, his lip twitching in a mildly dissatisfied grimace. Stan chuckled softly as he gave Ford a good natured elbow. As if they had been summoned, a bartender appeared out of the crowd. He was a young man, blond with assless chaps and a leather vest holding a new tray of shots and some clear mixed drink. Honey smiled at the man as he placed the new glasses in front of them and bobbed her head in thanks when he left just as quickly as he’d appeared. He didn’t even know this place had table service. Maybe it didn’t and she paid her way into special treatment. Stan chuckled softly as he put a finger into the back belt loop of her shorts and gave her a small tug backwards. She was a class act.
“Stanford here was telling me about some a yer sea farin’ this winter.” Fiddleford said, raising his southern drawl over the din of the room.
“Yeah?” Stan responded before Honey slid a beer into his hand and settled herself into the crook of his arm, distracting him a little from the topic. “Anything specific? That’s a pretty wide topic of conversation.” Stan raised at eyebrow at his brother who had removed his hand from Fiddleford’s arm once they had settled into the booth.
“I was discussing when we stopped near Tortuga to search for that sunken ship you wanted to look for. I was searching for a specific type of fish while you treasure hunted.” Ford stated, taking a sip of his beer. Honey’s eyes raised in curiosity.
“Mmm not far from my home territory.” Sipping the mixed drink that had been deposited with the new round of shots. She sure wasn’t starting slow.
“I thought yer home was off the coast of the Northern Atlantic.” Fiddleford interjected, tilting his head a little as he stroked his beard. Honey smiled softly at that, not questioning why he would know that information. The liquor must have been working its way into her system, because her gaze became fuzzy, her body already resting more heavily against him than she had been before. She smiled almost dreamily and nodded.
“You’re right. That’s where I was born. But I really settled in the Gulf for a few decades. Found a good group of people, others like me. They really helped me.” Stan’s grip reflexively tightened on her waist as she mentioned her life in between their short moments together. He couldn’t help but think of the man who had ahold of her in the picture on her dresser. Honey noticed his stiffening hold, moving to stroke his hair reflexively as Ford and Fiddleford took in the information.
“We should play a game.” Honey stated to the table, scooting the shots toward each person as she spoke. “Truth or dare. Cause it’s my favorite.” She smirked a little as she eyed the two across the table who looked like they’d been handed something venomous. “Rules are easy. Pick dare and I tell you to do something. Don’t do it, you have to drink. Truth, you have to answer my question honestly or you drink. Obviously.”
Stan laughed softly as he sat up a bit more from the booth, taking the shot between his fingers as he contemplated the mischievous glint in her eyes. Ford would get his payback tonight in spades just in her attempts to help get him in with Fiddleford. With no protests from the group she put her hands against the table as if bracing herself for the challenge.
“Ok, I’ll start. Ford, truth or dare?” Honey shifted forward so her elbows were on the table. Her eyes, already hazy from the shots, were locked in on Ford’s nervous face.
“Uh, truth, I suppose.” Her lips drew into a serene smile as she drew in a small breath.
“Perfect. Do you have the bathrooms bugged like the rest of the house that you can turn off and on?” Stan barked a laugh as Ford’s face drained of color. He sputtered, caught off guard by the question.
“I..I uhh…well you see-“ He stuttered, not finding the words before he went silent. Honey pressed the shot of tequila nearer to him with her pointer finger.
“Answer or drink.” Ford steeled himself and slammed the shot, looked panicked as he bit into a lime as if it were his only lifeline. Honey snickered as she leaned back against Stan again, her challenge satisfied. “He didn’t need to admit it, I’ve seen them.”
“Look, I put those in after everything last Summer. Most haven’t even been on since I’ve installed them. It seemed imperative I keep an eye on every inch of the shack after…” Honey waved her hand at him.
“Eh, eh. That’s not how the game works. I didn’t want to know why. Just wanted to hear you admit it. It’s time to move on.” Stan smirked watching Honey play as if she was in charge, enjoying the way she put his brother on the spot like that with what she was implying. She truly was a brilliant little brat. Of course she bothered Ford. She challenged his authority at most turns. “Make sure you think of something good for my turn, though. Fidds, you’re next. Truth or dare?”
Fiddleford, for his part had looked almost entertained as Stan was, which surprised him a little. Maybe the old kook had more party in him than he’d originally guessed. Should have guessed that was the only way his brother ever got into anything fun when he was in college. Taking another swig of beer, he found his hand resting comfortably just under the hem of Honey’s tank top. He was entertained but her wiggling made it hard to want to stay in one spot for too long.
“Hmm, I’ll take that wager little lady. Dare.” Fiddleford said with his own wide grin Honey gestured to the Half full stripper poles that occupied a few areas of the bar.
“Take your shirt off and do a little dance for us, Fidds.” Honey giggled at this request, taking a few more sips of what Stan now figured was gin, her lips making a small pucker before she leveled her gaze at the old man who was contemplating the request. “Do it or drink.” Her challenge was issued this time with a much gentler prodding.
“Think I should give everyone a show or take my knocks ‘n catch up with ya?” Fiddleford asked Ford with hesitation. Ford fixed the grimace on his face as he took another sip of beer himself. Stan shifted a little. It was a little weirder than he cared for to be watching Ford and McSuckit flirt back and forth, no matter how subtle.
“I know what I’d do.” He said as he scooted the small plate of salt and limes that existed near him from his own shot. Honey huffed a little.
“Boring.” She sighed as Fiddleford knocked back the shot with ease. Stan chuckled at her petulant pouting as they both avoided her pushes to let go a little.
“Ok, Stanley. Your turn. Truth or dare?” It was Ford’s turn to issue his own challenge. Stanley let his thumb rub back and forth over Honey’s soft skin as he contemplated the question. Either way he couldn’t imagine his brother coming up with anything very demanding in the first round.
“Just cause I don’t wanna move from this lovely position I’ve got,” He smirked, giving a Honey a little squeeze that made her giggle softly, “I think I’ll go with truth.” Ford nodded, already looking triumphant in the question he was about to ask.
“Did you steal my favorite shirt to clean up a spill and throw it overboard while we were out at sea?” Ford’s question was more of an accusation. Honey groaned softly and rolled her eyes, this obviously not being a satisfactory question for her more salacious wants.
“Pfft, no. I told you when you lost it, Sixer. I don’t have any clue where it got off to.” Stan raised his free hand in feigned innocence. Honey snorted a little.
“If you’re gonna lie you might as well just take the drink.” She said as she picked up the shot in front of her and handed it to him. Stan rolled his eyes at being called out like that before he took his third shot for the night. This much this quick was already warming him up past comfort, the world already getting a little more fuzzy as the liquor hugged his insides. His hand tightened on Honey’s waist, trying to keep himself level as Ford nearly yelled.
“I knew it! You owe me a shirt.” Stan slid the empty shot glass back across the table just as another shirtless man with more liquor appeared, another round, just like before deposited in front of them. Stan cursed to himself, if they got any further into this everyone would end up too sloppy. He wanted to get her alone. Maybe this wasn’t the best place to ask what he needed to ask. She wasn’t paying attention to his quickly spiraling world as she was challenged to do some silly trick that Fiddleford had come up with.
After another few rounds of this, it was clear there was no saving the situation. Ford and Fiddleford were basically in each other’s laps and Honey had nearly melted into him, whispering some of the dirtiest things he’d ever heard into his ear.
“Wanna get out of here? The woods are easy to disappear into…” Stan nodded at her question, nearly lifting her up off of his lap as the world swirled a little harder around him than he wanted. Honey wobbled a little on her feet, but grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door.
“Ford, don’t get into trouble.” Stan called over his shoulder at his completely distracted brother. Ford barely acknowledged him as Honey made her way down through the crowd, tugging him behind her. Stan smiled as he looked down at her as she commanded her way to the entrance of the club. The cool air of the night hit him like a truck, sobering him a bit as Honey let go of his hand to stretch. She twirled and giggled, her hands above her head as she looked at the stars.
Stan recaptured her by her waist, guiding her towards the side of the building. Her body swayed into his arms, her steps unsteady as they found a secluded forest path just off the tree line. He pulled her to him, his focus drawn to the way her breathing became a little uneven when he held her close like he was.
“What’s got you so nervous tonight, doll face?” Her smile faltered a little as she contemplated the question.
“I’m not sure…” Her eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, swallowing and licking her lips when he put a hand gently to cup her face. He couldn’t stand not keeping her as close as possible, the liquor had him feeling especially clingy.
“Can I ask you a question?” He asked softly, resting his chin on her head when she nodded and nuzzled into his chest. The night was quiet and darkness cocooned them as he worked on the best way to go about this. If he was gonna ask, now would be the time. “What’ll you do if death comes knockin’ at my door?”
Honey stiffened at his question, unsure how to respond. After a few moments she found her voice again.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t tried to think about it… I just got you back.” Her voice cracked in a way that made his heart squeeze in his chest. He hated putting her through it, but it was a real question.
“I’m not a young man. I know I keep sayin’ it. I know you don’t wanna think about it. But I could go any moment. What with the adventures and the agents and Gideon.” Her eyes were shimmery and swimming under the intoxication as she looked at him, clearly distressed by what he was saying. He needed to sell it and quick before he made her go through too much more of it. “Look, we can’t account for all of those things, but we may be able to account for my age.”
Honey pushed back from him slightly to look at him better, confusion clear on her face as she did. “What do you mean?”
“Me n’ Sixer talked, and he thinks he can use your DNA to develop a sort of anti-aging something. He said he thinks he could make us live…longer.” He could see it turning over in her head, her gaze becoming guarded as she backed away.
“Why are you telling me this now? Is this why we’re here?” Something in her sounded a little broken as she continued “Is that why the agents are after me? Same thing this Gideon wants? You want it too?” She almost looked green as she swayed against one of the ancient redwoods. Stan took a step towards her, reaching to steady her before she threw up an arm to keep him at a distance, gagging slightly as she looked at him, frenzied and bristled.
“Honey, it’s not that. I don’t want anything from you that you don’t wanna give.” He didn’t approach further, worried she’d take off in her drunken state. She pawed at her neck where his Ma’s ruby necklace hung, panting softly as she tried to straighten up.
“Is that what this was? To bribe me? Or to collar me? If I say yes and you get sick of me will you cage me like them too?” He prepped himself to tackle her, seeing the fright trickle up her spine as she looked at him as if he had threatened to kill her. “Will you sell what you make of my body?”
“Princess, wait. Please calm down, we need to talk about this.” Stan pleaded softly, taking another step towards her before she turned to take off, only to faceplate into the ground after getting her foot caught on a root. “Christ, doll.” he mumbled as he moved to grab her crumpled and sniffling form. He had miscalculated this terribly. She flinched as he pulled her up to her knees, brushing her elbows and front off before working on pulling the leaves out of her hair.
“I would never put you in a cage, unless you asked.” He teased, winking at her to try and lighten the mood. Her big watery eyes made him clear his throat. “I’d never do anything to hurt you. And I’d never get sick of you. That seems impossible.” Honey snorted a little at that, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands.
“We’ve only spent a total of maybe two months together? And you’ve almost died how many times because of me? It feels preemptive to say that.” She scoffed softly through her tear strained voice. Stan sighed, finding himself compelled to plead with her disbelief in his loyalty.
“I’ll keep doin’ it until I can’t anymore. You mean the world to me, princess. I haven’t felt like this in a real long time…” He felt spurred on by the liquid courage, finding the words easier than he had before. “I know I want you, for as long as you’ll have me.” She softened at that, hearing the truth to his words as he spoke them.
“But you’ll be around a lot longer than me, probably even if Ford figures this out. But you could have me a lot longer, if you’d like. I promise, I’m not goin’ anywhere. We can keep talkin’ about it, with Ford so you know the details before you agree to anything. I’d never hold you to stickin’ with me though. If you ever wanted to leave…I’d let ya’.” He swallowed hard at his own words, hating to even put the idea in her mind. He knew he hadn’t put up a good reason to stay, and he was waiting for her to turn tail when she came to her senses.
“I’ll listen to Ford’s proposal.” She whispered, sniffing again as started to work to get to her feet again. The moment seemed to sober her up a bit, her footing seeming more sure now as she stood. “I want you too, for a long time.” It surprised him every time she said it. She hadn’t hit her head, right? Stan offered his arm to her, steadying her against himself as she found her way against his side.
“You wanna go home? I’m sure the nerds are ready to get goin’.” He snorted, wondering if they were still in the same place they had left them. Honey nodded, her fingers intertwining with his as they hung over her shoulder making his heart flutter a little.
“Soos should come get us. None of us can drive.” Honeys voice came softly from next to him. Stan groaned, she was right. There was no way he could drive them home and no one else seemed up to the task by far thanks to her.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll get my phone out of the car and call him. Then we can go find the other two.” He lengthened his stride, the light of the parking lot dim as they made their way over to his car. Movement in the back seat caught his eye, shadows bouncing around the car as they approached.
“Agents?” Honey whispered, curious as they got closer. It soon was apparent it was not agents though, but his brother getting frisky with McGucket in his back seat.
“In my car?! Come on!” He wanted to slam his fist against the door, but he dared not get closer in case he saw something he didn’t want to see.
“I’ll call Soos.” Honey snickered, pulling her own phone out of her pocket as she began to scroll through her contacts. As she made the call Stan grimaced, trying to ignore the movement in his car. Well, at least it seemed like everyone was on board for now. With another tired sigh, he wrapped himself around Honey, barely listening as she spoke on the phone. He wasn’t sure he would call the night a success, but he supposed it was a start.