This story was orginally part of my oneshots story: Shots in the Dark but since this story became more than a oneshot, I have moved it to its own story doc.

Summary: Dipper just wanted to have an evening of monster hunting, not to accidentally travel space and time and have a pharaoh demand his hand in marriage.

Pairing: Billdip (one-sided)

A Twisted Time

"Okay so the barf fairies should be over…" he peered around the tree, "…there. Darnit! I've missed them again."

The nineteen year old sighed and kicked a rock. Well he might as well mark the spot on his map. Taking the parchment and a pen out of his pocket, he leaned against the tree just as he heard a trampling through the trees. He perked and put away the paper. While the noise sounded too loud to be a fairy, the creature could still be something he hadn't seen before! He picked his way through a mine field of roots and shrubbery to near the source of the sound.

He leaned around a tree and stared. No way.

A sphinx batted at a frantic butterfly. A sphinx batted at a butterfly.

He whipped back behind the tree, thrilled. Never mind why the Egyptian creature was in the middle of a forest far from Egypt, he just had to figure out a way to approach the creature!

Dipper leaned against the bark, thinking through plan after plan. He could catch the animal…but he didn't bring a strong enough net. He could…no, no…well maybe he could…

"Got it." He murmured and pulled out a small pad of paper from his pocket. "I'll just watch and–"

The sphinx's ear twitched and the feline whirled, spotting Dipper.

And then the sphinx shot away.

Dipper swore and began the chase. The cat must have heard him talking to himself! Dummy, dummy, dummy!

"C'mon, think." Dipper berated himself as he dodged the undergrowth in the trees. "What do you know about Egyptian culture?"

His eyes brightened. That's right. According to a few ancient and translated tomes, sphinxes could understand Egyptian. But could they understand the, horridly mispronounced, modern version of the language?

Deciding to try anyway, Dipper shouted in garbled Egyptian. "I am not your enemy!"

The sphinx skidded to a halt in an open clearing to stare at the clearly non-Egyptian human. Dipper swallowed harshly. Oh damnit it was going to attack him! He slammed on the breaks

Instead he crashed into the sphinx's flank, instinctively grasping the animal's fur to balance himself.

The feline yowled and leapt, trying to shake him off. Dipper, not wanting to be thrown off at such a high speed, clung for dear life and internally hoping that he wasn't about to die.

The teen's stomach churned and his head whirled. The colors blurred around him and he could just barely make out in glimpses what he thought to be was the construction of the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, and then the building of the Statue of Liberty, and there was the Eiffel Tower and whoa was that the first pyramid in Egypt? The whirlwind seemed to slow and then the weather became scorching hot.

Just barely, he hung on as the sphinx's direction stopped then turned sharply down and then they were weightless. A shock raced through his arms as the sphinx landed roughly. Nerves numb from the force, Dipper finally let go. Panting, because hell it was so hot, and watched the sphinx sprint away, sand flying behind it.

Dipper blinked. Sand? What was a field of sand doing in a forest? He sat up, swaying slightly. Ugh, would the world stop spinning?

And then he heard a booming, high pitched voice.

He whipped his dizzy focus onto the speaker and paled because whoa he was definitely not in the forest anymore. There, in front of a gigantic crowd of people with rich colored skin, stood a grinning bronze man with what couldn't be anything other than the clothes of a pharaoh. From the headgear, and long chin piece to the jeweled arms and white robe, the young man just bled authority.

The bronze skinned man turned to his people and raised his arms, announcing something in a foreign language.

Dipper scrambled to his feet, his heart hammering, and his balance titled. He teetered in place, wide-eyed and scared because he was still dizzy and the pharaoh probably had plans to kill him or something and he really needed to find the sphinx because this isn't his home and–he paused. Maybe not even be his own time.

The loud voice snagged his attention once more and he ripped his gaze from the sun warmed sand to the widely gesturing speaker. He flinched when his eyes met the stranger's piercing stare. The teen rubbed his arm, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of not only the young leader, but the pharaoh's followers as well.

He fidgeted as the man gestured at Dipper, the cloudy sky, and then back to Dipper. The crowd cheered and Dipper edged away, bumping into a scorching hot surface and he recoiled, unconsciously turning. He stared. Whoa. Pyramids were huge. Curiosity peaking, he swiveled only to see the lone pyramid, a giant palace not too far away, and huts scattered about the sandy land. Oddly enough, there were no other pyramids in sight.

Remembering his situation, he shook his head and returned his focus onto the pharaoh. He needed to go home. Maybe he could find the sphinx and escape…

Unfortunately for him, the pharaoh himself strode forwards, shadowed by a pair of bulky men. Dipper staggered in retreat, his feet sinking in the sand, but the Egyptian leader just snapped his fingers and the pair of muscled men grabbed Dipper's biceps.

Dipper struggled. Oh hell, they really were gonna kill him or something! The teen looked wildly from one man to the other until he finally settled on staring at the eerie smile on the pharaoh's face.

"L–Let me go…" He stammered.

The pharaoh paused to stare with wide-eyes. Then his smile stretched into a grin. The leader placed a hand on his robed chest and declared a word in smooth gibberish.

The teen hesitated and blankly watched the man place a hand on Dipper's chest and pitched his voice, as if asking a question.

Dipper frowned, thinking he understood. "Uh… I'm Dipper."

The man furrowed his brow, mouthing the words, before trying to pronounce the strange name. "Uh….I….mmm…dip…per…."

Dipper blinked. "Oh, no no no, Dipper."

The stranger frowned. "Oh, no no no no, dipper?"

Dipper thinned his lips. "Dipper."

"Dipper?"

The teen nodded. "Dipper."

The pharaoh patted Dipper's chest. "Dipper."

The man then attempted to reintroduce himself by placing a hand on his chest again and repeating the same ancient language.

Dipper frowned. Oddly enough, the stranger kinda felt like a Bill to him. Could he get away with calling him that instead of the complex, tongue twister that the guy was repeating? Oh…but then that would be inconsiderate to ask that of someone, wouldn't it? What was that called? Culture erasure?

Dipper bit his lip. Maybe while he learned to pronounce the man's name properly, he could give the stranger a nickname?

"Um…" the teen fidgeted. "Can I just call you Bill?"

Bill furrowed his brow and asked a question.

Dipper struggled to place a hand on his chest since the bulky men still held his arms and said. "Dipper." Then he pointed to the pharaoh. "Bill."

The pharaoh stared for a beat then started to smile.

Bill nodded and tapped his chest. "Bill."

The man turned to his bulky guards and spoke. Dipper shifted in place, feeling like he was missing something important. Bill then turned to his followers and made grand gestures. The crowd cheered.

The guards dragged Dipper forwards, following Bill as he led the way through the parting crowd. One by one, the Egyptians dropped to their knees as the Dipper passed and the teen fidgeted.

He wondered to himself. Why are they bowing after I pass and not the pharaoh?

The guards dragged him out of the crowd and towards the giant building towering near the pyramid. Dipper tried to even his breathing as they moved, sweating in the searing humidity. Geeze, it was hot and he could just feel his dizziness worsen. Ughhh, he needed water or else he would pass out soon. He grimaced as the sun beat against his bare arms. And some sunscreen would be nice too.

Dipper shook his head. Priorities. Where were they?

He looked up and gasped.

Pictures of crumbling ancient Egyptian palaces couldn't even compare to the same palaces in mint condition. They climbed up the steps to the palace and he reeled as he inhaled. Whoa that was some strong incense. His focus jumped from the sharp tang of the scent the sight of alabaster pillars inscribed with hieroglyphics. He studied the polished chiseled inscriptions with tireless fascination.

Whoo, how did sculptors manage to chisel such detailed and colorful work into stone?

They ventured further through the giant clay built rooms and wound through a few hallways until Bill flung open a pair of wooden doors with flair. A pair of young jackals rushed forwards and bounced around the pharaoh's heels. Dipper stared at the thin yet clearly healthy puppies and tried to connect the man's previous eerie smiles with the goofy grin that Dipper could just barely see him send to his canines.

Bill turned, authoritative once more, and spoke a few short words to the burly men who, in turn, finally released the tired teen. They left the room and shut the doors behind them.

The pharaoh exchanged his frown for a fond smile as he patted his dog's heads and then gestured at Dipper. The puppies scampered over and Dipper pursed his lips into an awkward smile. Oh gosh, did the pharaoh expect him to pet his dogs? Or was it a ploy to train the puppies into biting stranger's hand?

Despite his apprehensions, he held out his hand for the dogs to sniff, inwardly hoping the animals wouldn't rip off his hand. Instead of the anticipated pain, he giggled when a couple of rough and slimy textures coated his ticklish palm. Though he tried to stifle the sound, his giggles encouraged the pups to cover his hand in licks.

The man's voice reminded him that he wasn't alone and he stiffened, avoiding the pharaoh's gaze as he straightened and looked around the grand room. From the elaborately decorated vases etched with images, the fragrance of the incense, and the humid air, to the painted walls, the golden jewelry resting atop wooden tables, and the gigantic bed hidden behind a veil-like cloth, Dipper's jaw dropped.

Well sure he read quite a bit on Egyptian culture, with a focus in the mythical creatures, he never quite realized that…

Pharaohs were wealthy.

Because geeze. Not only was the room massive, there was just so much stuff. How much did one guy even need?

While he stared, he failed to notice the man sauntering over with a smug grin. Dipper only noticed when a warm weight looped around his waist and tugged him against a silk clothed chest. The teen recoiled, protesting loudly, and tried to wiggle free but Bill just walked him to a table lined with jewels and accessories. As Dipper pushed against the man's chest, Bill swept a hand above the table and declared in ancient Egyptian.

Dipper stopped struggling to give Bill a flat look. Didn't the guy realize he didn't know ancient Egyptian? While he could pick up bits and pieces of somewhat familiar words, pronunciation had changed over the centuries and he was left lost with a language barrier in a foreign land.

Bill just rolled his eyes and released him to pluck a large golden triangle plated necklace with an triangular ruby embedded in the center off the table. He swiped Dipper's battered old hat and and placed the accessory over the protesting teen's head. The pharaoh nodded with approval but Dipper shook his head.

"I'm not wearing this, it's not mine. And give me back my hat!" He grasped the necklace to remove the gift until Bill pinned him with an alarmingly lethal stare.

"Um…" Dipper fidgeted with the golden pleats of the necklace. "Well, maybe a little while wouldn't hurt…"

Bill smiled, clearly pleased, and picked up a golden band and grabbed the teen's wrist. Dipper scrunched his face. What was this weirdo up to?

Someone knocked on the door.

The man perked, put down the accessory, and approached the door. He straightened as he grasped the metal ring adorned on the wood and tugged the metal toward him to open the door. A servant stood in the doorway and bowed her head upon seeing the pharaoh. She then presented a a piece of folded white cloth.

Bill accepted the fabric without a word and shut the door, turning to the puzzled teen. The Egyptian unfolded the clothing to reveal a white fabric rimmed with red. Understanding dawned and he glared at the skirt like fabric. Even though Dipper was sure the kilt like clothing was technically called a shendyt, he absolutely refused to wear the clothing. His legs would be bare to the sun and would burn faster than…well, something that burned really fast! Either way, he'd have tomato colored legs!

He shook his head, resolute in his decision. When Bill prowled forwards, Dipper puffed his chest, narrowed his eyes, and furrowed his brows. He could take wearing the necklace, he could even take the jerk taking his hat, but the shendyt? Nuh-uh. He had to draw the line somewhere.

Bill returned the glare. Rising to the challenge, slowly removed the necklace and crossed his arms, all the while glaring unblinkingly into the man's piercing stare. He shook his head.

The jerk huffed and reopened the door to speak curtly with the guards and handed the clothing to one of them. Just as the one given the cloth moved away, Bill closed the door.

Dipper maintained the glare as the man approached again and spoke. Warily, he stood his ground but the man just ignored him as he hovered a hand above the table. Apparently coming to a conclusion, Bill snagged a golden band off the table, and then snatched the startled teen's wrist. Though Dipper pulled away, Bill managed to slide the band up the teen's arm to stay near his shoulder.

Dipper's turn to huff had arrived. Just why in the world the pharaoh would be accessorizing him? Honestly, the mere thought was ridiculous.

Someone knocked once more. Bill once again strode to the door.

He spoke to someone outside, and then stepped aside to allow a stranger holding white clothing and a pair of sandals to walk in.

"Dipper," Bill addressed the teen, then turned to the man at his side and uttered a few words.

The man stepped forwards, placing a hand on his chest and announced with clear diction. "Imhotep."

Understanding, Dipper mimicked the man with a nod. "Dipper."

The man with a rich brown complexion wearing only a white kilt and sandals unfolded the clothes. Apparently the clothing was a robe similar to Bill's but slightly less elaborate. Did the guy really expect him to wear a robe? Dipper shifted to frown at Bill but the man just grinned and nodded, tacking on a few words with an encouraging intonation.

Dipper shook his head and backed away as Imhotep walked closer. The jerk of a pharaoh tag teamed with the guy and cornered the teen against a wall. Bill then grabbed Dipper's arm and tugged on his shirt.

The teen blushed in mortification and finally shouted. "S–Stop!"

He batted away their hands, and yanked the clothing out of Imhotep's hands. If they were going to force him to wear the stupid clothes, then he was going to be the one to dress himself, damnit!

He curled his fists in the clothing and shoved. Surprised, Bill and Imhotep stumbled back, and Dipper seized the chance. He slammed his palms into their chests and pushed them back towards the door until the dummies finally understood.

Bill grinned slyly but relented and spoke to Imhotep. The young man dropped the battered trucker's hat onto the table and, together, the men left the room.

Dipper tossed the clothing onto the same surface, grasped his hat, and rushed to the lone opening in the wall by the bed. He peered outside with hope only to deflate. He was too high up to risk jumping out the window, and a good four men blocked the only other way out. He sighed and turned to the clothing.

Looks like he'd be escaping in a robe.

So he shed his hat and shirt to put on the robe, which hid the fact he secretly wore his pants because he was not removing those, no matter how hot he got. He plopped on his hat, removed the band, and went to the door. He stopped to breathe, then pulled on the metal ring.

Once the door opened, the young pharaoh stopped speaking to stare. He smiled, scanning Dipper, until his eyes zeroed on his arm. Oh geeze, what did the guy want now? Bill grabbed Dipper's arm and dragged him back to the table and presented the jewels again. Oh. Dipper stubbornly shook his head until Bill snatched his hat.

"Aw, c'mon." Dipper whined. "Not my hat!"

The teen tried to snatch the blue piece of clothing until Bill held up up the band and necklace in the other hand.

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Fine." He consented reluctantly. "Just give me back my hat when you're done."

Bill grinned and set to work, bedazzling him with the fancy necklace, two bicep bands, and twin gold bracelets. Only then, once Dipper was accessorized, did Bill return the precious, beaten up old hat.

The pharaoh then called. "Imhotep." and tacked on a few more words then ushered Dipper out of the room.

Bill pushed the teen to Imhotep's side and addressed the guards. The bulky men straightened further, alert, and flanked Dipper and Imhotep. Bill waved farewell as Imhotep took the lead and Dipper, with the muscled men on either side of him, rubbed his arm and followed.

As they walked, Dipper constantly adjusted his hat. Just where were they going? The walk dragged on until they finally ventured outside of the palace to a…garden? Was the palace built right next to an oasis?

The men herded Dipper down a set of stairs and they took shelter beneath one of the several fig trees. Imhotep grasped a pair of sticks laying near the tree's roots and then sat on a large flat rock next to the plant. He patted the rock's surface. The guards continued to stand and Dipper stared.

"Dipper," he called, then spoke a few more words.

Understanding, Dipper sat beside the young Egyptian and Imhotep handed him a stick. The man then dragged the stick through the sand until symbols and soon hieroglyphs formed.

Imhotep tapped the ground with his stick and placed his free hand on his bare chest."Imhotep."

Dipper paused a moment to absorb the situation. Why was the guy writing in the sand but saying his nam– Realization clicked.

The teen tried to write neatly for once and etched his name with the stick. Afterwards, he placed a hand on his chest and stated. "Dipper."

Imhotep nodded, smiling. "Dipper."

He tacked on a few more words then rewrote his name and nudged the teen's shoulder. Did the guy want him to rewrite his name or write what the guy wrote? Deciding to test his second theory, Dipper carefully mimicked the man's hieroglyphs.

"Imhotep." He announced once finished.

Imhotep grinned and Dipper couldn't help but smile sheepishly. So this was a language lesson, then.

They continued on with Imhotep drawing an image or pointing to the image he spoke of, announced the name and then wrote the hieroglyphs for that name and then would have Dipper rewrite the hieroglyphs. Slowly, as Dipper started to recognize some of the hieroglyphs from his own studies, they quickened their lesson until Imhotep began to explain Dipper's situation.

"Okay," he muttered to himself because Imhotep and the guards lurking nearby couldn't understand him anyway. "They think I'm a god because of my 'cloud' colored skin and because I appeared out of nowhere on a sphinx? Huh."

Their lesson stretched on and the sun began its descent. A servant appeared and handed Dipper and Imhotep a goblet each filled with water. The teen thanked the girl, who bowed deeply and he blushed. Really, was bowing necessary? Imhotep spoke a few words and the girl hurried away.

Hoping the man didn't threaten or anything bad other than telling her to leave, Dipper lifted the golden metal to his lips and tipped his head back. Ah, water never tasted so good.

"Dipper."

Dipper paused to pay attention and murmured to himself. "Oh–kay so the first pyramids were built because the pharaoh, Bill apparently, had an obsession with triangles? Geeze, eccentric, much?"

He drank some more, watching the man write a few more words. Wait a minute, he recognized that symbol too well. That combination of images meant marriage, followed by his name and Bill's…

His mind screeched to a halt and he choked on his drink.

They were marrying him to Bill.

~oOo~