This isn't the usual kind of fic I write (any more) but these two are way too cute and I was inspired. It's super short, but enjoy!
There was the smell of burning in the air first, just a few seconds before black smoke rolled in from the direction of the kitchen. The smoke detector didn't go off - when was he going to fix that? - but her shrill scream was enough of an alert. Dipper bounded off the couch (accidentally flinging the journal he was pouring over) and ran to the rescue.
Through the claustrophobic hallway he made his way and, upon reaching the kitchen, was immediately hit with the thick smoke that filled his lungs. It was even hard to see through the black haze blanketing the air. The acrid smell of burnt food stung his nose.
"Pacifica?" Dipper called out, eyes now filled with tears from the smoke.
"Over here!" she coughed, and he could barely make out the glinting diamond earrings at the far end of the kitchen. She seemed to be right by the oven, where the smoke was billowing out.
Nearly blind he felt around near the fridge for the fire extinguisher. Where did he put it the last time this happened?
"Dipper, hurry up!" she coughed again.
"I'm trying!" he said as his fingers struck the extinguisher at the top of the fridge. Success!
The flames shooting out of the oven were the perfect target for Dipper, and in a blast that looked like weaponized snow he snuffed out the fire. Whatever monstrosity of a dinner was inside the oven was entirely covered with the chemicals - not that they would've been able to eat the burnt food anyway.
"This is, like, the second time in a week." he coughed, heading to the window to open it. The smoke cleared quickly and he could see Pacifica looking somewhere between embarrassed and annoyed, her arms crossed but her face turned away from him.
"It's not my fault the food refuses to cook properly."
"It's exactly your fault."
"When I lived at home, Mother and Father would just get the chef to cook for us."
"You had a personal chef?"
"And a baker."
"Separately?"
She hesitated. "And a butcher."
"Was there anything you guys wouldn't throw money at?"
"Commoners, of course"
Dipper sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in desperation. But before he could speak the slight rumble of Pacifica's stomach rang out loud. Her face grew even redder than before.
"Let's just order pizza." he held back a chuckle.
"Now who's throwing money at a problem?" the girl smirked.
"Well I learned from the best, didn't I?"
She didn't uncross her arms, but a smile made its way across her face.
Hope you liked it! Reviews and criticism are always welcome.