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Prologue

     The morning California sun heavily beat against Fiddleford's face as he walked up to his mailbox. Opening the small white door, he found a few envelopes; bills, scams, advertising... but one thing caught his eye. It was an envelope with the familiar name: Stanford Pines printed on the top left corner. After a few moments, he slowly tore his eyes away from the envelope and quickly returned to the comfort of his home.

     Although small, it was comfortable for Fiddleford and the small family he was starting. Well, the one he was supposed to be starting. Shaking his head, he quickly placed the rest of the envelopes on the counter for his wife to dig through later. The one from Stanford remained in his left hand.

     I haven't heard from Ford since Backupsmore. Fiddleford thought to himself as he lightly ran a finger against the edge of the envelope. His footsteps quietly bounced off the walls as he walked inside the garage. Sitting down on the dusty stool he claimed as his work chair before carefully examining the envelope again.

Stanford F. Pines
Gravity Falls, Oregon

Fiddleford H. McGucket
Fiddleford Computermajigs
Palo Alto, California

Tearing open the envelope, Fiddleford began to read the contents of the letter. 

Dear Fiddleford, 

Greetings, Fidds, I hope life has been treating you well. I am writing to you today because I can use your engineering expertise. While working in Gravity Falls, a research partner and I are wondering if we can create a transuniversal poly-dimensional metavortex. This portal will be useful in several ways, Fidds. You are a one-of-a-kind mechanic; I believe with your help we can get this transuniversal poly-dimensional metavortex created. If you have any questions, please write back to me. However, if you would like to join me, my address is on the envelope. 

Take care, old friend.
Stanford Pines

     Putting down the letter, Fiddleford let one hand race through his dirty blonde hair as he thought over what he had just read. This idea sounded like something beyond his or Ford's power, if something like a transuniversal poly-dimensional metavortex could be created then there would be various risks involved with it. 

     Yet, he knew Ford, the researcher probably thought about this idea for a long time before finally contacting Fiddleford. It was not like Ford to ask for help quickly, he preferred to work alone. 

     Picking up the letter again, Fiddleford read over it one last time before placing both it and the envelope inside of the pocket of his jacket. Maybe it will not be so bad. He rose from the dusty stool and made his way inside of the house. Behind the kitchen counter was his wife, Emma-May who was holding a small child in her hands while preparing a bottle of milk. 

    "Good morning, Tater-Tot!" Fidds smiled, walking towards the two of them, he grabbed the child from his wife and kissed the little one on their head, listening to the little boy giggle in glee. 

     "What are you so excited about?" 

     "I'm going to Oregon for a little bit, I've been assigned a job from an old college friend of mine." Fiddleford responded to his wife's question, placing down his son, Tate in a booster seat before turning to face the woman. 

     "Is this the same six-fingered freak you shared a dorm with?"

      "He is not a six-fingered freak, and his name is Ford." 

      Emma-May let out a heavy sigh and shook her head. "I should have known you were going to leave me to go back to him."

     "What do you mean, Emmy?"

     The girl frowned while looking Fiddleford up and down and pointed to their garage. "You dated me after you left college where I am assuming you dated him!" She paused for a second as Fiddleford opened his mouth, but she continued. "Don't play dumb and act like you did not shout out his name before in the room."

    A heavy shade of red dusted against Fiddleford's cheeks as he quickly looked away from his wife. He knew what she meant by that, but he could not help that the brunette scientist remained on his mind even after all these years. Slowly, Fiddleford looked back up at her with a sigh. 

    "Emma-May, I'm sorry, I really am. I guess I never got over him, and I'm sorry for that."

    There was silence for a moment before the female smiled and nodded. "It's fine, I stopped liking you that way when I found out." She sighed and looked at young Tate who was happily drinking his milk, not understanding a word his parents were saying. "Just promise me that we will both be able to watch Tate grow up. Even if we are not a couple."

    "Can do!" Fiddleford smiled before reaching out to shake her hand. "Thank you, Emma-May, for everything. I should go pack up and meet with Ford in Oregon. I don't want to keep him waiting."

     Fiddleford turned away to head inside of the bedroom to start packing his things. Behind his back, he could hear Emma-May say another snarky comment about himself and Ford. 

*******

    The trip to Gravity Falls was a long one, and Fiddleford felt as though there was never going to be an escape from the bus. The dirty-blonde man looked down at his banjo which sat in his lap and lightly pulled a string, listening to the chirp he got in response. He knew it was a silly dream when he was a kid, to play in a band with his banjo. Yet, he still could not help but to carry on that idea deep inside of his heart. It felt like it would be nice to him to invent something other than machinery for once. 

    A rolling stop was made by the bus, which caused Fiddleford to look up. A few passengers around him started to stand up to exit the bus as the driver announced that they had made it to Gravity Falls, Oregon. Picking up his suitcase in his free hand, Fiddleford quickly got off the bus and looked around at the new scenery. 

    Tall trees, mainly pine, were spread around the area, and the road before him opened into what looked like a sleepy-little town. Turning his head, Fiddleford noticed a bench where people could wait for the bus.

      On that bench, he saw him, Stanford Pines. Though, he figured the other had not seen him yet, with how his eyes were glued inside of a journal while a pen was so racing between both sides of the left page. 

    He looks just as I remembered him. Fiddleford thought to himself while staring down the researcher, not realizing that the other had gotten up and was now standing in front of him. A light clearing of the throat woke Fiddleford from his daydreaming. 

     "Greetings, Fidds. It is a pleasure to see you again."

    "I feel the same about you, Ford!" Fiddleford smiled and reached out a hand to shake his friend's hand, only to be rejected as the other turned away. Slowly, Fiddleford put his hand back down near his waist. "So, how may I help you?"