Pointdexter: A Swooning Over Stan-fiction

Chapter Thirty-Three: Return to Gravity Falls

Alice was sure that she was forgetting something.

The last hours were spent tidying up the apartment, clearing the small dinner table, and lighting candles. Sure that something was out of place, despite the perfectly placed silverware and plates, fitted into place onto the table with grace. The smell of chicken floated in the air around her, the steady bubbling of pasta in a pot filling Alice's ears as she slipped her apron from over her head and smoothed her skirt over her thighs.

The fluttering in her chest was inconsolable, unable to help the ache of longing that flowed through her bones as she waited. If all had gone well, Ford and Stan would have picked up the twins from the bus stop and Ford would be on his way to her apartment. Her fingers twisted into each other, eyes staring helplessly at the clock as she tried to soothe the anxiety in her chest.

And yet, Alice still felt like something was missing. 

Her hands fluttered over the table, she'd indulged in a bottle of champagne for the night but that was in place. The chicken was settled on the stove, low heat keeping it warm, light music played through the apartment, and there was everything she needed for the perfect night.

So what was missing, besides her guest of honor?

The knock was so quiet, that Alice almost missed it. Her head whipped toward the door, and before Alice could stop herself, she was reaching for it. Pausing, she made sure she was collected and calm, smoothing her hair over the back of her neck and brushing off her blouse.

Her hand shook as she pulled the door open, smiling wider than she had since that first time Ford had kissed her. Alice leaned against the door, her hand shaking behind her back and she smiled up at him.

"Hey you," She said, voice soft, unable to form any other words.

Ford smiled at her, calm and collected as ever with his hair smoothed and his shirt straightened. She devoured every detail, from the light scruff on his face to the soft flush that erupted over his ears, and the sparkle in his eyes.

"Hey," He replied, his voice just as soft as he reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "You look beautiful, as always."

"And you look dashing," Alice breathed, resisting the urge to lean into his touch and melt there. "Come in. Dinner's ready."

She took a step back, her skin crying out as she pulled away from his touch, gesturing him into the small apartment. Ford stepped into the apartment, his eyes taking in the surroundings. He breathed in as if tasting the air, taking in the scent of the chicken and the sound of the soft music.

"You cooked?" He asked, turning his attention back to his, his gaze lingering on her face. 

Alice let out a breathy laugh, shutting the door and crossing her arms over her chest. The music was soft enough that Alice could still hear the sounds of tires on the roads outside the window and the sound of her heart thudding in her chest.

"I wanted to do something special for when you got back," She confessed, her fingers twisting nervously in the sleeve of her blouse. "So I made chicken piccata."

"You didn't have to go through so much trouble," Ford smiled, taking a step toward her and taking her hand in his, gently uncurling her fingers from around her sleeve. Alice sucked in a breath as he guided her knuckles to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to each one.

"Well..." Alice managed, feeling the blush cross her face as he lowered her hand, fingers still grasping hers. "You are well worth that trouble."

"Is that so?" He asked, stepping close. Alice could feel the heat radiating from his body, sending shoots of electricity up her body as his thumb ran over the top of her hand. "And what if I said you were worth even more trouble?"