Words: 600~ || CW: Completely made up science || During his third year of college, Ford meets someone called Bill. Things progress dangerously and quickly after that. (Billford fic) || CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3
“Whatcha working on, poindexter? Looks a lot more active than usual.”
Ford glanced up to see Stan. He was sitting among a rather wide arch of papers and some Chemistry books opened up for reference. “Just trying to figure out the chemical composition for something.”
“A four book problem. Your Chem professor must have decided to drop a real bomb.”
“Oh, no. This isn’t for class.” Ford said. “Is it your lunch break?”
“Lunch? Sixer, I already finished my shift, check your watch.”
“Wait, what?” He pulled his hand over surprised that the time confirmed as much. “I could have sworn my last class wasn’t even an hour ago.” He said gesturing to his own watch as though it could be wrong.
“Don’t think you can pin this on a ripple in time or anything.” Stan said, holding out a hand, carefully leaning over the flood of papers. “Come on, ten bucks says you skipped lunch.”
“Not a fair bet, Stanley.”
He rolled his eyes. “So, it’s easy money.”
“Okay- okay, just a second.” He found the paper he’d been writing on and jotted down a quick set of notes. Meanwhile, Stan waved his hand impatiently.
“Arm’s getting stiff. Wind… so cold.”
“You don’t have to keep holding it out, knucklehead.” He put the pencil down as he finished writing, and grabbed Stan’s hand. “Okay. I’m up, I’m up!”
Stan grinned, helping Ford over the papers and books back to clear ground again. “There ya go out of the sea of nerdom.”
Ford adjusted his glasses, smiling. “More like a moat.”
Stan clapped him on the back. “Same thing.” He said waving a hand. “Whatcha feel like eating?”
He made an uncertain face.
“Eh. Let’s walk and see what we see.” Stan said going towards the door.
“Sounds fine.” Ford said, going to grab a coat.
“Mmm, nope. Nice try though.”
“What??” Ford pulled the paper back from the glass to look over the formula again.
He’d come to the asylum again, this time without the class. The security guards were rather fine with letting him through though when he mentioned being there earlier for his psych class. It wasn’t the reason he was here now, but that was unnecessary information.
“What’s wrong with it?” He asked, though he was still looking at the paper. It was admittedly a bit messy, but he’d written the final formula in thick, emboldened lines.
There was so much more math to it than he had on this paper though obviously. He couldn’t exactly check over all of it right now, though he was almost hoping to spot a minor mistake he could have missed. He supposed he hadn’t extensively checked it over….
“You went and made it overcomplicated, smart guy. Jumped right past third level organics right to complex compound integrations.” He pointed out.
“The complex compounds are what’s keeping it together though!” Ford told him, turning the paper back to him.
Bill looked it over once again, humming. “Yup, that’s your problem right there.” He pointed at the formula. “It’s too stable.”
Ford paused at that. “…Too stable?”
“Well, yeah! It can’t be too stable or else it won’t bother reacting with anything.” It seemed like a bit of a simplified reduction, but he understood what Bill was getting at.
He frowned, pulling the paper back to look at the formula again.
“Two chances left.” Bill said, drawing his attention as he held up a couple fingers. “Want a hint?”
“I’ll get it.” Ford immediately replied.
Bill wound up smiling widely at that, and shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Didn’t you even say no hints earlier?” Though, frankly, that hardly mattered provided that he didn’t get absolutely stuck.
“What can I say? I changed my mind.” He said simply. “Hints make the game more fun.”
Ford considered it, holding in a breath for a moment. He let it out. “No hints, not yet, at least.” He wanted to say he could get it without one, but he wasn’t entirely certain about that anymore.
Crazy Little Thing Called Love (1/?)
Words: 800~ || CW: None yet || During his third year of college, Ford meets someone called Bill. Things progress dangerously and quickly after that. (Billford fic) || CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3
Psychology was a pointless extra curricular, at least to Ford it was. It probably says something about this school, or about the professor, that they’re actually touring the local asylum though.
They’re idly wandering through as a class, the professor somewhere up front. He had been paying attention to them, but he kept finding himself tuning out of the lecture.
There was a muffled thud, not terribly loud, but enough to get Ford to stop and turn his head.
There behind some clear glass was a blonde man who had his fist up on the glass. He was wearing the usual asylum garb, but he seemed to stand out in the dull outfit. He smiled when Ford noticed him and knocked a few more times, lighter and unnecessary.
“Uh, hello.”
“Hey.” He said, “couldn’t help noticing you looking absolutely bored out of your skull. Let me guess, not your major?”
Ahead, the rest of the class was milling about or walking ahead at a snail’s pace. “No, it’s not.” He said.
He hummed. “Ah, I can’t blame you. I don’t care for it either. Heck, look where psychology got me.”
And Ford cracked a small smile at that.
The man seemed encouraged, now conversationally talking to him. “So, what is your major then? Oh- oh, I bet I could figure it out.” He said pointing a finger at him, tip touching the plexiglass.
“Really?” He took a couple steps towards the glass to talk to him. “You think you can figure it out? You would just be guessing.”
He hummed. “Science major, right?”
“You guessed.”
“It’s not a guess when you know you’re right.” He said, a tad smug.
“Alright,” Ford ventured, “how’d you know then?”
“Easy. That class is a higher level elective, but if your major isn’t psychology then you need it for another science elective.” He answered, and truly the reason Ford was in this class to begin with. “How about a game.” He suggested then. “Give me a hint and I’ll pin down what you’re in all of this for.”
He seemed so certain, and there was no way he’d figure them all out, so Ford agreed. “Alright.”
The man settled a bit against the glass, watching him expectantly.
“The first hint,” he said, restraining feeling a tad smug himself, “I have more than one major.”
The man’s eyes sparked up then. “You’re a real genius, aren’t you?” He paused, giving Ford a very considered lookover before looking back at his face. “Criminal science?”
Ford couldn’t help the slight smile now. “No.” A completely wrong guess.
He waved his hand. “Another hint then, come on.”
He had to take of a moment to think of the next one. “It involves many laws and theorems.”
“Physics.” He answered without hesitating. “Even if that was a cop out. Give me a good hint.”
Ford laughed slightly. “Alright, fine… I study cells.”
The man hummed. “And biology. Unless you’re talking about prison cells.”
“I’m not, and you’ve got a second one.”
He gave a wide smile. “How many more do I have left to guess?”
“A few, at the very least.” He answered.
“‘A few?’ Oh, you are one ambitious guy. What’s your name, smart guy? I gotta know before it starts showing up in all the newspapers.”
He briefly glanced aside with a small bashful chuckle. “It’s Stanford, but please, call me Ford.”
“Well nice to meet you, Ford. I’m Bill.” He put his hand out to shake… on the other side of the glass.
The gesture itself made Ford hesitate and he looked back up to Bill’s face.
A knowingly mischievous smile spread across his face before he pulled his hand back up by his head, shaking it slightly for effect.
Ford laughed at the display. “Polite of you to offer.” He said with a lingering smile.
“What can I say?” He leaned his side against the glass. “I’ll have to try again another time.” He said, tapping the wall with the back of a fist.
The professor’s voice then called down the hall to him. “Pines.”
Ford turned, surprised to see the class had gotten to the end of the Hall, most of the students lingering while they still could. “Coming!” He called back, taking a few steps back from the glass. He looked back to Bill. “It was ah, nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too, Stanford Pines. Swing back around sometime, smart guy.” He said with a wink. Or- well he could have just been blinking. Bill’s hair covered one of his eyes.
Ford gave a small awkward smile in return, “I’ll uh- I’ll try.” He says noncommittally before turning back to catch up with the class.
The professor continues, leading the group through the door. Ford glanced back in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Bill, but failed. He barely looked and there wasn’t much to distinguish the cells apart from one another.
So yeah.. about that whole studying for finals thing… I’ve currently fallen into a bottomless pit and can’t seem to stop drawing things from @doodledrawsthings ‘s lovely human Bill au and @videogamelover99 ‘s amazing fics.
Bordapanic fo rrel 