"Just imagine the possibilities, Fiddleford. Traveling to other dimensions, leaving this plane of existence, heck, maybe we could even jump to alternate timelines, or travel through time itself!" Stanford had been explaining the finer details of the portal to McGucket for the last half hour or so as they waited for their meals to arrive. Greasy's Diner was busy tonight, and despite its seemingly run-down appearance, the restaurant had good service and great food.

"Trust me, I am imagining the possibilities!" Fiddleford laughed. He'd already said this a few times, but when Stanford was excited about something, he couldn't get it out of his head, not for a second. In fact, since Fiddleford's arrival earlier in the day, the jubilant smile on Ford's lips had not wavered once.

"I know you are. You sounded extremely excited on the phone, and even when you saw the blueprints, your breath was taken away. Mine was, too, when I first..." Stanford trailed off for a second. "Uh, started to think about whether or not something like this could actually be feasible." There was a brief pause before he continued. "I can't wait to start putting everything together tomorrow." Ford repeated himself for the millionth time. It didn't annoy Fidd, though. In fact, Stanford's habit of thinking about one thing and one thing only often came in handy. It helped him see a problem or situation from any angle, sometimes revealing solutions that, oftentimes, no one else had even considered.

"Oh, me neither! I just hope everything goes smoothly." Fiddleford drummed his fingers on the table anxiously. He'd always been a worry wart, and for some reason the idea of an interdimensional gateway both exhilarated and terrified him.

"I'm sure it will. I mean, what could go wrong?" It was a rhetorical question, and even though he had a few things in mind, Fidd decided to only shrug.

"Here you go, boys." A female voice cut the conversation short. A young waitress placed two large plates of food on the table with a smile. "Enjoy! And if you need anything else, don't be afraid to ask." She walked off, leaving the two men to continue talking as they ate.

Three quarters of an hour later, they were finished, and were heading back to the cabin. As soon as he'd walked in the door, Fiddleford called home to talk briefly to Ada and Tate. The conversation wasn't long, as nothing had changed much over the course of the day, and the call ended after only a few minutes. The rest of the evening passed quickly, and at about ten thirty, Fiddleford decided he was going to call it a night, mostly so he could wake early the next day.

As he walked down the hall, he could hear Stanford shuffling around in one of the many rooms meant for studying. The door was open, and he was hunched over a maroon book, scribbling furiously in it. He was muttering inaudibly, his movements jerky. Slightly unnerved, Fiddleford kept moving as quietly as he could, turning right into his temporary room. Something about what he had seen was.. off, somehow. He felt like he had seen something that had been intended to remain secret.

You can't think like that. You'll only drive yourself crazy. Fiddleford mentally admonished himself. There's nothing paranormal going on in this town. Fiddleford almost laughed out loud at that thought. Well, there were strange elements in Gravity Falls, Stanford had told him as much. Even Fiddleford himself had witnessed a fleeting shadow or two in the redwoods that had taken the shape of a small man, or some ancient life form, but that was it. There wasn't anything larger than that going on. There couldn't have been.

Oh, how wrong you are... Fiddleford shook his head, attempting to shut off his thoughts. He then reached for the light and shut it off before climbing onto his cot and pulling a blanket over himself. Even before his head hit the pillow, he knew sleep would have a hard time finding him tonight.

At five thirty in the morning Fiddleford's alarm clock started screaming, and he had to rummage through his still mostly packed luggage to find it. After shutting it off and changing his clothes, he ran out to the kitchen to see Ford already sitting at the table, staring out one of the many triangular windows in the cabin, watching the rising sun. At the sound of Fiddleford's approach he got to his feet.

"Morning! Ready to start constructing the portal?" He asked, already taking a step towards the staircase that lead to the elevator. Naturally that was the first thing to come to his mind. He'd probably been up for hours already, contemplating any possible roadblocks. From what Fiddleford could remember of college, Stanford regularly pulled all nighters, and had once pulled four in a row.

"Of course!"

"Great, let's go." Stanford literally jumped off of one foot, taking off at a jog through his house towards the staircase, with Fidd trailing close behind him.

The first few hours were horrible. Constructing the wooden frame for the enormous triangular superstructure would be the worst part, Stanford assured Fiddleford, but it didn't make it any easier on either of the scientists. They had to work together to pull the huge wooden beams, averaging twenty-seven feet long by two and a half feet by two and a half feet, together. Slowly but surely the frame came together, depicting a gargantuan triangle. Next came the curved metal frame that would surround and support what would be the "punched hole through the weak spot between dimensions", as Stanford referred to it. The metal girders were significantly fewer in number than the wood beams, but were twice as heavy. Finally at about noon, the entire frame was laid out, bolted and pieced together correctly.

"You're sure ..that was the worst part?" Fiddleford asked his friend, stretching with a pained expression.

"Yes, definitely." Ford replied with a grimace of his own. All the heavy lifting had not been kind to either of them, and both were glad to have finished building the frame. "At least for the next part, we can use machinery to mount the frame to the cavern wall." Stanford gestured with his chin to a large patch of shadow where a small, crane like mechanism sat. Fiddleford opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off. "And before you ask, no, we couldn't have used it to put the frame together. The crane only moves vertically, not horizontally."

"What else do we have to do for today?" Fiddleford queried, since his previous question had been answered. He knew that, without a shadow of a doubt, Stanford would have a meticulously detailed plan for how every day of building would go. It was just how he operated; he always had to have a plan.

"Well, first we can take a break for about an hour or two, both of us could use it." Stanford chuckled. "And then there's not a whole lot left to do, just rig up some cables to get the portal bolted to the wall. Then, I guess we check over all of my calculations to make sure they're correct, and match up with each other." Ford thought for a second. "Then we're done for the day."

The rest of the day went as planned, and many more followed. Little by little, the portal really began to come together. Stanford and Fiddleford began to rekindle their old bond as close friends. Overall, things were going great. Naturally, this was when things started to go wrong.

... I'm sorry.

I swear though, the next chapter will contain some tragic events, I'm not just using empty foreshadowing now. Sorry about that..

And you know, for the wait. These chapters should not be taking so long to write, I know. School hasn't kept me very busy, so I can't even use that as an excuse... I guess the only card I have to play is lack of inspiration. But, I promise I will really try to get the next chapter written and published within... Say, the next four days. I did say try, so if it doesn't happen, don't kill me. I do occasionally have huge loads of math homework to do.

I sincerely appreciate all the patience and support you guys have given me. Thank you guys so much for that. \(:D)/ Later.