"Heya, bro-bro!" A young woman's voice, practically bursting with childish glee, rang out across the yard like a clarion call. Bill looked up from the book he was reading-some hilarious tome written by a dead human named Nietzche-and peered out the window.

Below him, a young woman-22 human years, to be precise-parked a car and all but leapt out of it. The sunlight caught her long, wavy brown hair, and settled on a face with bright, clear features. It always struck Bill how much the girl was simply made for the daytime. She was loud and vivid, and seemed to shine no matter what was happening around her. Her twin Dipper, on the other hand, was definitely a creature of the night. Subdued and quiet, though not by any means weak-willed, he was made for long nights staying up stargazing, or working until the early hours of the morning, with nothing but solitude and fellow nocturnal creatures for company.

And Bill, of course.

But despite that, Dipper practically ran off the porch towards his sister, and their embrace, despite being together since birth, was no less heartfelt than it ever was. Bill couldn't see Dipper's face, but he knew the human was smiling. That big, heart-felt grin that only those closest to him got.

Despite the utterly-disgusting levels of cheer going on, Bill allowed himself a smile. He didn't really get the whole "sibling" thing, or even the whole "trusting-other-sentient-beings" thing, but if his human mate was happy, it made him happy.

Then he sighed. She probably expected to see him. She always did. And just when the book was really getting funny. He put the book down, ignoring the bookmark on the table. He'd remember where he was.

He always remembered.

Bill stood, stretching out his form and enjoying the slight aches and pins-and-needles feelings his human form had accumulated, and made his way downstairs.

Coming down the steps, he glanced at the sun through the kitchen window, judging the time. Dipper's older family member, Stan, and the resident handyman Soos had left over an hour ago, intent on meeting a mysterious "internet man" who would supposedly sell them cheap supplies for the next attraction they were building for the tourist-trap they inhabited. Stan had told them to call the police if they took more than an hour.

Bill nonchalantly ignored the phone and continued outside, where two voices where talking animatedly.

"-how did you even fit those in there?" Dipper was asking incredulously.

Up ahead, the twins were gathered around the backseat of Mabel's car, some shiny and apparently impressive piece of chrome and metal that her girlfriend had bought for her. Bill didn't care in the slightest about those weird human expressions of wealth and social status-both items were such artificial concepts, and that said a lot since he dealt with dreams. However, he did like the little panther statue on the front of the hood. Or maybe it was a puma.

Mabel soon noticed his approach. "Hi Triangle Guy!" she exclaimed and waved happily, so sincere it almost hurt Bill. Then she was running forward and Bill braced himself: Mabel hugs were not to be taken lightly.

She slammed into him full-force and wrapped both arms tightly around his neck, the move somewhere between an embrace and a choke hold. Bill gasped slightly, before reaching down to grab her. Without warning, he grinned, crouched down, and leapt up superhumanly hard. His ascent blew up a small cloud of dust, carrying both of them easily 10 feet in the air. Mabel squealed happily, if a bit painfully, in his ear.

He slowly floated back down to the ground, ignoring Dipper's rolling eyes as they touched back down. Mabel was laughing in his embrace, and gave him a small extra squeeze before letting go. While she was often too loud and just plain too bright, Mabel was a good kid. Where Dipper shared Bill's sense of curiosity, Mabel shared his out-going love of excitement and mischievousness. Plus, she'd put up a pretty good fight against him at the tender age of 12, a feat that had earned her Bill's respect. Nothing like hiding a sharp mind in a mess of colorful sweaters and bubblegum-scented hair.

"Hey kid," Bill replied, ruffling her hair. He looked past her to the inside of the car. Inside it was…

….wilderness.

Bill frowned. "Wow, these human cars really ARE going green."

Dipper rolled his eyes again. "They're bushes, Bill. I'm guessing Mabel bought them at the local plant nursery." Dipper looked for a tag to the plants, brushing a rather large amount of dirt from the expensive upholstery.

Mabel grinned. "They're gummy gooseberry bushes! They attract butterflies!" she exclaimed happily, before laughing to herself. "Heheh, 'geese'," she said, shaking her head.

Dipper reached in, trying to grab one of the bushes. It barely shifted. They seemed stuck in there pretty well.

Mabel reached in from the other side to help her brother. "You plant them and they bring all sorts of - oof!" She paused, wiping her brow. "Wow; these are in there pretty good, aren't they?" She chuckled.

Dipper didn't reply, focused on trying to push and/or pull a bush out from his side. Bill watched for the next few minutes as both humans-officially adults in their world-struggled against two plants in the backseat of a car.

Dipper stood up, wiping sweat from his brow, and glared at his boyfriend. "You can help us anytime, Bill," he said sarcastically.

Bill shrugged and smirked. "But why? You two are doing so well on your own."

Dipper shook his head and grumbled something about "free-loading demons". Mabel, however, turned towards Bill. He tensed. She wasn't going to do it, was she?

He tried to look away, but suddenly two big, round eyes were looking at him in the biggest pout he'd ever seen. This was one of Mabel's special moves, and it was stronger than most monsters Bill had encountered. He tried to ignore it, he really did. But soon his shoulders sagged in defeat. He could always tell himself later that he had only helped so he could get back to his book more quickly.

Bill held up his hand. Blue flame, clear and oddly cold-looking despite the sunlight, encircled it. "Alright, fine," he grumbled. He placed his flaming hand near the side of the car. "Where do you want me to cut?"

"No!"

"Cool!"

Dipper spared a glare at his excited sister before turning back to Bill. "Bill, you can't just cut into a car."

Bill looked at him. "Why not?" He studied the metal. "It's surprisingly weak once you know the grain boundaries."

Dipper waved his hands. "No! It's not-" He turned to Mabel. "Mabel, do you think Pacifica would want you tearing up her gift to you?"

Mabel sobered. Her clear desire to see something destroyed in an awesome way warred with his words. She was very particular about gifts. Every gift, she'd once explained to Bill, many years back, was special. It was someone giving something of themselves to another person. She would never violate the sanctity of one.

She turned the pout on him again and Bill threw up his hands, exasperated. "Fine! No fire! We'll do it your way." Without warning, he pushed forward, shoving Mabel out of the way. Laying one hand on the top of the bush and one at the base, he closed his eye briefly. The bush shrank to half-size, and he pulled it out easily, setting it on the ground. He repeated the stunt again with the second bush.

The twins watched him in silence, Dipper with his brow furrowed and Mabel with an overjoyed expression.

"You couldn't have told us about this ability earlier?" Dipper dead-panned, while Mabel played with the smaller-than normal red flowers adorning a bush.

Bill shrugged. "Eh, it's easy to make things smaller." He grinned. "Or bigger, if you want."

Dipper's face flushed and he darted a nervous glance at his sister, mortified that Bill was flirting so openly. But Mabel was still cooing at the flowers and showed no sign of having registered the statement, so he just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Bill chuckled to himself before looking over the plants. He recognized them; he'd seen them a few times in the woods, though not close to the shack.

Dipper walked around the car and looked down at the plants. "So, these attract butterflies?" he asked curiously, trying to restart their conversation from earlier. Mabel looked up from the flowers and nodded, smiling.

"Yep! The flowers are specially designed for butterflies and junk. You can plant them and –bam!-butterflies. In. Your. Backyard." She pointed over to the side of the Mystery Shack. "I figured we could start off by planting them over there."

She spread her hands. "Can you imagine?" she said happily. "You can have these two and they can keep growing and have plant babies and you'll have butterflies EVERYWHERE!"

Suddenly she turned and pointed towards the icebox. "BAM! Butterfly icebox."

She swiveled towards the hokey faux totem pole. "BAM! What's your totem animal? How 'bout a BUTTERFLY?!"

Spreading her arms wide, she spun, then struck a pose, arms open like a pop star. "Butterfly Central, HERE WE COME!" she shouted.

Bill and Dipper stared at her, standing carefully out of arms reach. When it became apparent she wasn't going to point anymore, Dipper started forward. "I-" he began and raised a hand to point a knowledgeable finger, then stopped. Bill watched him. He knew what the younger man was doing; warring between his instinctual need to be pragmatic about the world and his desire to support his sister's visions, despite how bizarre or frankly delusional they could be.

Bill knew how this was going to turn out. There was nothing that kid could deny his sister. On cue, Dipper's posture relaxed and he dropped his hand. "Sounds good, Mabel," he said.

She grinned at him and the smile was infectious. "Alright!" she exclaimed, turning back towards the porch. "Where do you want these?"

Dipper studied the yard for a few minutes before turning to his sister. "I don't know; wouldn't my genius art-school sister be better at picking a good spot?" Mabel grinned, a bit bashful but grateful, before looking around, hand on her chin.

"Hmm, wellll...If we try it over there, it'd bring out-"

Bill tuned out their conversation as the two began talking in earnest. He didn't care much about the shack, and human aesthetics were alien and thoroughly uninteresting to him. The entire shack could sink into the earth tomorrow and he wouldn't mind either way-his only concern would be that Dipper and the other humans seemed attached to it and would probably miss it if it were gone.

Suddenly, he felt the shift. There were no loud noises or bright lights, but he felt a magical disturbance down to his very core. Something supernatural had crossed the threshold of his territory.

Bill needed to check it out, but didn't want to alarm his human companions. He eyed the twins. Particularly Dipper, who was observant and prone to paranoia, but also Mabel, who was surprisingly perceptive. Fortunately, the two were thoroughly engrossed in their conservation, and Bill took the opportunity to make his exit.

Closing his single human eye, Bill opened his mind's eye. He could see the lines of his territory, extending for miles in all directions. Well, "see" might not have been the best term for it. He could hear them and smell them; taste them and touch them. And sense them in a million other ways, none of which could be defined with his human shell. And in all of those ways, that territory was his. Along with everything-and everyone-inside it.

There. In the south-western corner. Bill leaned forward slightly and reached inside himself for his power. It was always there; thrumming just below the surface. But he took care to only draw out a little; Dipper had begun noticing the subtle shift in the air whenever he manifested his power, and he didn't want to cue the human in that something was happening.

The power seeped out of him, settling along his skin, nuzzling into his pores in very pleasant flecks and jolts of humming electricity. It was invisible to the human eye, but he had always pictured it as a deep blue, as solid as his flame and just as destructive. Bill allowed himself a dangerous grin. Whoever showed up in his territory unannounced was in for a very unpleasant welcome.

With his destination in mind, he fell.

In a nanosecond he was racing through the air, the shack and its inhabitants long behind him. He opened his eye. The woods whipped past him, tall communities of redwoods and pine trees silent witnesses as he blurred through them. He was immaterial in a material plane, so nothing could touch him, but he could see them. Oh, he could see everything. The animals in the forest, prey scurrying from predators. Small cities and towns, human-made buildings that stood in pale imitation of the towering mountains and forests around them. Humans, milling around aimlessly, that in another time would have been sent scurrying from him.

It all whipped past him, everything that was his, and he focused his energy on the spot up ahead. It was in the woods, which was a good thing. He didn't feel like wiping any humans' memories today.

When he reached the breach he halted, a sudden movement unburdened by inertia or any of the other stupid physical constraints of the material plane. He moved to travel around to the edge of the territory. The line, visible only in the immaterial plane, was broken. The tracks of what looked like multiple creatures had travelled through it. Bill floated forward to get a closer look.

Wendy, the red-haired girl who had been ostensibly employed at the Mystery Shack, had once taken him and Dipper deer hunting. While the two humans had no intention of actually killing any animals-and Bill had declined the opportunity after seeing how excited the younger man had gotten while observing the animals in their living, non-killed state-the young woman had excitedly shown them how to track the creatures in the woods. While Bill was a skilled hunter in…other things, Dipper had been overjoyed when he'd found tracks and successfully tracked his first deer.

Tracking creatures in the immaterial plane was a bit different from the physical plane, but the fundamentals were the same. Whatever creatures had crossed over had been flying, so there were no tracks on the ground. But there were tracks in the air.

Bill held out his hand and focused. Every being, no matter how mystical, gave off energy, and he could track that residual energy. He would normally follow it through touch, reaching out to follow those delicious jolts of energy. But, as he'd spent more time among humans, he'd found himself using eyesight more instead. He searched the area and saw the residual energy-six, seven tracks in all. Six were smaller, about human-sized, and glowed a faint orange-red. About a human level of power, too, though augmented with something stronger.

The last mark was significantly more powerful. It looked to be about twice as large as a human and stained the air a deep, thick red. It was doubtless the source of power for the smaller creatures.

Bill sighed. This was going to be one of those "master-and-servants" types of deals, wasn't it? Those types of creatures were so annoying-it really took the fun out of heckling and mildly torturing an opponent when its little drones kept trying to interfere.

With a soft *pop*, a slightly tangible feeling not unlike a soap bubble bursting, Bill rematerialized on the material plane. He could continue following the tracks with his inner eye, but it seemed hardly necessary-the tracks were leading in a straight path and the creatures had clearly tried to be stealthy but still failed to escape his notice. Granted, nothing really could, but he didn't expect too much of a challenge from them.

He started forward, into the woods. His woods. He could hear everything-a nearby brook bubbling, small creatures scurrying along the ground, the whistle of wind through the trees…

The wind swayed the branches in a tree to his right. One branch didn't sway quite as much as the others. That was all the warning Bill got, but it was enough. He swiveled to face it and took a half-step back, materializing his cane out of thin air. He nonchalantly twirled the dark alder wood instrument around his right hand and gripped the other side with his left, bracing it in front of him. A split-second later something smashed into it. The creature materialized. She-for it was a she-was a ghoulish creature. Human, or at least originally human, she was naked and clearly no longer alive. Her body was ghastly, pale and tinged a bloodless blue, with decaying skin beginning to sag off of bones that jutted out at almost absurd angles, threatening to break the skin in places. The gaunt pale skin was a sharp contrast to the two beautiful, giant butterfly wings that flapped furiously, keeping her afloat. Her mouth was around the cane, teeth gnashing fruitlessly against the strong material. Bill could have scanned her energy, but there was no need. The creature clearly did not have the intellect to be the master, and besides, this seemed a bit familiar.

Bill grinned at her. "Hey there, beautiful." She continued mindlessly savaging his cane. He glanced up. "Is your mommy home?"

"Now that seems a cruel taunt to use," came a low, languid voice from his left. Bill's grin grew and he turned his head to face his single eye on the speaker. Around him he felt the other creatures appearing, all gaunt, twisted figures. But his eye was for the master.

Elegant was the first word that came to mind upon seeing her. Dangerous was not far behind. She had the appearance of a human woman, albeit a tall, well-proportioned one. Whereas the servants were dead and decaying, she positively overflowed with life. Her skin was a deep, healthy bronze, and looked soft and smooth in the sunlight. Her body was large and plump, with brightly-colored cloth covering large breasts and wide hips, perfect for child-bearing. The two butterfly wings holding her up were almost extravagant; they were a deep, dark crimson, inlaid with long, wide swirls of sun-hued yellows and rich, dark blues. They beat in time, almost as though to a tune just out of hearing range, and the pattern was intoxicating. At least, it would've been to a mortal.

Bill just widened his grin, a hint of fang peeking through. "Heeey Itzpapalotl. Long time no see."

Rich, endless black eyes stared back, even as she quirked ruby red lips in a slight smirk. "Hello again, Cipher."

She flicked her hand idly and the creature on Bill's cane ceased its attack. It floated back up to join its sisters, who formed a loose ring above Bill's head, looking down with dead, distrusting eyes.

Bill flicked saliva off his cane and brought it up to loop behind his head, resting his arms atop it. "It's been, what, 500, 600 years?"

She thought for a moment, wings slowly moving up and down, then nodded. "That sounds correct."

Bill nodded back. "So, what've you been up to?"

Black eyes narrowed. "Well, the people who worshipped me were conquered by heathens from across the sea," she said icily.

"Oh yeah!" Bill exclaimed, snapping his fingers. He laughed. 'We got some of them up here now. Oh, along with the people who conquered them." He shook his head in mirth. "Humans; what're you going to do, eh?"

Itzapapalotl continued to glare. She did not seem to find his attitude amusing. Bill grinned back. That's okay; not many beings did.

Silence grew between them, punctuated only by the soft sound of wings flapping. Itzapapalotl tried to stare him down, but Bill met her gaze, unperturbed. He knew she would act first; powerful beings always liked to be seen and heard, and deities were the worst of them.

And soon enough, the Aztec goddess broke. "Can I…help you with something, Cipher?" she asked coolly. "You have already tested my patience by halting my trek, and assaulting my property." She gestured to the creature Bill had stopped with his cane. Bill graciously declined from pointing out that trying to bite someone was normally considered the assault, not defending against it.

Bill spread his hands nonchalantly. "Aw, and here I thought we could catch up on old times. Ah well, I understand-I'm sure you've got stuff to do. Hey, a deity's got a busy schedule, even if it is 500 years out-of-date." Her stare turned icy, but he ignored it. "But I was thinking that maybe your…migration or whatever you're all doing here…could happen, say, I don't know…a few hundred miles that way." He pointed to the east and narrowed his eye. "Out of my territory?"

She said nothing, but tilted her head slightly up. A haughty look shone through her eyes, and Bill flexed his fingers slightly into fists. His territory was marked loudly and clearly as his. It could have been possible, albeit slightly unlikely, that she and her goons had wandered in unaware of that fact. But her silence confirmed his suspicion-she wanted to be here. And whatever she wanted, it probably would not be good for the local humans. The old gods and goddesses had a weird relationship with humans-something Bill would liken to an unhealthy obsession, though he knew that he might be becoming a hypocrite in that regard. Still, the old ones liked to meddle in human lives to an almost insane degree, picking out individuals and ruining their lives for no good reason, or demanding the sacrifice of a hundred enemies just to sate their egos and paint their staircases red, or whatever their reasons were.

And a few years ago, Bill wouldn't have minded that. But now he had a bit of an attachment to some of those weird meatsacks.

He flexed his fingers, and the tips elongated into long, black, wicked-sharp claws. Jungle cat claws; that felt appropriate. He felt the air begin to change; the winged creatures above him beginning to tense.

Itzapapalotl gave him a long look, then smiled. Her eyes shone, a dangerous flame dancing in them. She laughed suddenly - a loud, rolling sound - which rolled off of the surrounding hills and trees, and slowly tapered off, leaving the woods unnaturally silent. She smirked. "Very well."

She looked around with an almost bored expression. "If you must know, I do have a purpose for travelling up this way. You see, an eclipse is soon upon us, when my Tzitzimimeh will come to Earth. My cihuateteoand I are merely scouting around, searching for a good area for their…feast." She grinned then.

Bill felt his face slip; his smile becoming a baring of teeth. Both the Tzitzimimehand the cihuateteo preyed on humans; men especially.

"Look, lady, I don't really care about your 'feast'." He waved a claw-tipped hand dismissively. "You can sit down, put on some sports, maybe enjoy some brewskies, you know?" Itzapaplotl's eyebrow quirked in confusion at the unfamiliar slang but he continued. "All I care about is that you don't do it here. Why don't you lovely ladies go and live it up somewhere else?"

Itzapapalotl shrugged and idly studied her nails. "Normally I would, but I've heard tales that there's a human here that is…unusually knowledgeable about more spectacular beings such as we."

Bill stilled. "Really?"

She waved her hand, gesturing as she spoke. "It's a young male, barely more than a sapling. But supposedly he has investigated numerous creatures of our dimension, and captured or bested mighty beings who were orders of magnitude stronger than he. And, worst of all, he shares his knowledge with the other slack-jawed mortals in his area. I simply can't have him warning the humans of the dangers of the eclipse. My girls will be left wanting."

She looked then at Bill and smiled innocently. "In fact, I'm surprised that a human with such a formidable reputation has been allowed in your area for so long."

Bill snarled slightly, before turning it into a smile. "Well, I do like to keep things interesting." His eye narrowed. "But I'm afraid my hospitality has run out. I'll take my chances with the human. Leave, now, or I'll have to make you leave."

She laughed again. "You certainly are as unpredictable as you were before, Cipher." She fixed her gaze on him and leaned forward, eyes hungry. "Why don't we go hunt for him together? You can rustle him out of the brush with your tricks, and my warriors and I can take care of the rest." She licked her lips. "It'll be good…practice."

Bill stood for a second, then bowed his head. His shoulders began shaking.

Itzapapalotl moved back, startled. Her wings slowed in surprise. "Cipher?"

Bill's shoulders shook harder. Small sounds were beginning to escape him now.

She leaned forwards slightly. "Cipher? …Are you…?"

"ahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Laughter tore itself from Bill's throat. His hands went from over his head to over his stomach within seconds, cane rematerializing in his hand as he clutched his gut. His knees weakened and he would have fallen to the ground if he wasn't him; as it was, he floated in the air, body wracking from peals of laughter.

Itzapapaloctl stared at him, utterly confused. She had clearly forgotten what it was like to speak with the dream demon.

After a few minutes-an insufferably long time to a goddess waiting for a reply-Bill's laughter slowly tapered off. He reached up to wipe a tear away from his eye.

"Heh. Heheheheh," he chuckled weakly. He slowly straightened, unfurling his body. When he finally looked up, his golden eye glowed a dangerous red, and Itzapapalotl's breath caught, her wings for a moment forgetting how to move.

"And to think," he began lowly. "I was worried that this would be boring."

Then he leapt at her, claws outstretched. In a frenzy of motion, claws flexed from Itzapapalotl's fingers and eagle talons burst from her feet. The tension that had been building snapped, and suddenly the fallen goddess was rushing towards him, claws stretched outwards, wings morphing into twin axeblades made of obsidian glass. The flesh melted from her face, leaving behind a grimacing skeletal head, and a shriek tore itself from her mouth, where it was joined by the cries of her cihuateteo as they also surged downward, tearing and slashing at their enemy.

Bill reached her first, and felt a thrill go through him as his claws pierced her flesh. She gave a snarl of surprise and pain, and angled her wing. The razor-sharp edge of it cut a fine line on Bill's cheek as she passed. He landed on the ground, crouching as he slid across the forest bed of pine needles. He heard a shriek from above and leapt to the side, seconds before one of the cihuateteo slammed into the ground where he'd just been. He rolled up a few feet away, and without pausing, swung his cane towards the skeletal figure. The base transformed into a blade and sliced seamlessly through her wings, leaving her shrieking on the ground. Without pausing to check his work, Bill rushed towards the other creatures, who were blocking his progress towards their goddess. Bill mentally rolled his eye as he readied the next blow from his sword-cane. Dammit; he knew this was going to happen. Servant creatures always got in the way. The creature went to grip his cane with its hands; it seemed to have learned from its sister's earlier example. Once it had grasped it, Bill sent his power into the weapon. It shifted into a rope in the creature's hands and it watched, confused, as it coiled itself around its arms and wrapped around its wings, immobilizing them. Bill kept his hand on the other end of the rope and swung, whipping the creature around to crash into one of its sisters. At the arc of the swing, right before he let go, Bill sent one last thrum of power down the weapon. The rope wriggled fluidly and turned into a snake. It began biting the struck creatures, and the non-immobilized one reared away, confused. Bill smirked. Though they didn't look it, the creatures had been human once, and so many humans carried such a deep reaction to snakes that it seemed to persist even after death. It was silly; like snakes were the most dangerous things out here.

Bill heard a shriek from his right and turned to the face the next cihuateteo. Because of course it would be one of them. Itzapapalotl was of the old set; arrogant and powerful, who would prefer for her servants to do all the real work. He looked to his left and saw the other two closing in on him. Out of the corner of his vision, the one that had reared away from the snake had gathered its wits and was returning. He paused by some flower-studded bushes, reviewing what he knew of their weaknesses. They accompanied the setting sun, so as the afternoon dragged on they would only get more powerful. Though not as powerful as him, of course. As much fun as it would be to keep tearing them apart limb-from-limb-and oh, he thought with a manic grin, it would be fun-he wanted to get home. He had a light-hearted book to finish and two humans to bother. Humans he would rather not see dead come the next eclipse.

Bill excelled at strategy. He could see so many different tactics and counter-attacks. But really... where was the fun in that?

Reaching down, he grasped the gummy gooseberry bush he was crouched in and stood up. He whistled to get the creatures' full attention and held the large plant up.

"Hey ladies! Want a piece of this?" All four of the creatures paused and stared at the plant. He could feel the laser-like focus of their gazes. He waved the bush back and forth, and they tracked it, heads bobbing in unison. With a wide grin, Bill whirled and threw it as hard as he could. Butterfly wings beating loudly, the creatures followed the plant away, over the treeline.

Bill put his hands on his hips and grinned. "I can't believe that worked!" he exclaimed.

Turning, he saw Itzapapalotl frozen in the air, her mouth hanging open as she watched the last of her minions flutter away.

She stared after them forlornly for a moment, then shook her head, recovering. She rebuilt her face, conjuring flesh from the air, the smooth skin sliding back into its former vision of loveliness. She sported a disappointed expression. "And I was going to treat you ladies to those 'internet men', too," she muttered darkly

Bill strode over to her. "You know, Itza, the human world ain't half-bad." He clasped his hands behind his head, grinning lazily. "I mean, sure, they're puny and fleshy and loud and don't appreciate the finer art of creating heads that never stop screaming… But overall, they can be pretty fun."

Itzapapalotl glared at him. "They don't respect power, or the old ways. They tear down old cultures to build new ones, such as they tear down nature to build a false paradise."

"Eh, they're not all like that. Heck, I know some humans who respect creatures like us. And they can also respect nature."

His eye lit up. "Look, they even adorn their stuff with little animals! Like this puma." He conjured up the small car statue he'd seen earlier. Then scowled. "…Or maybe it's a panther."

Itzapapalotl stared at the statue, then at him. "…It's a jaguar."

He frowned. "…I'm pretty sure it's a puma." He replied.

She glared at him incredulously. "You do not believe that I know what a jaguar is?" she asked. She began speaking faster, her voice rising. "I, one of the gods of the Aztecs? I, who ruled over the cities of the jungle? I, Itzapapalotl, do not know what a jaguar looks like?!"

She finished her tirade, chest heaving. Bill looked at her and then eyed the statue again.

"…I still think it's a pu-"

"I turn into a jaguar!"

Bill shrugged, dismissing the statue. "Eh, we'll call it a draw." Itzapapalotl glared at him, fuming. Bill looked up at her. "Last chance, kitty cat…you gonna leave my territory?"

She huffed and crossed her arms, raising her head in an unmistakable challenge.

Bill couldn't keep a shiver of excitement from racing down his spine. He loved an old-school power challenge. He hadn't had one in eons.

"So, Itza, are we gonna do this the hard way," he walked forward, each step self-assured and just the slightest bit giddy."…or the hard way?" He smirked at her, eye glinting derangedly. The former goddess glared imperiously down at him. "Are you challenging my power, triangle?" She asked coldly.

She uncurled her arms and flexed her claws, her face a haughty mask. "I am all-powerful."

Bill waved his hand in dismissal. "Aren't we all, toots?" Then he grinned up at her. "But you're in MY territory," he said ominously. Around him, the trees and rocks began warping, twisting and turning nauseatingly. Itzapapalotl moved back in alarm and suddenly the surroundings lashed out, gripping her body. Her wings beat furiously, trying to escape, but the clouds reached down and the earth surged up, engulfing them. She struggled mightily, sending out her power in waves, but to no avail. The area was thoroughly, indisputably under Bill's control. Soon she was trapped, wrapped head-to-toe in surroundings that were of both the material and immaterial plane. Suddenly, both beings found themselves in the immaterial plane.

Bill walked up to her, and as he did, his body began shifting and warping. His human form slipped away, quick as water, and his true form loomed over the deity. Here, he let his size match his power, and the fallen deity looked up at a yellow pyramid that stretched as far as the eye could see. He moved one hand up to adjust his black top hat-always good to look dapper-and chuckled. As he had no mouth, the sound seemed to come from all around, reverberating through the air. His single eye stared down at her. Itzapapalotl stared back, spine straightening in defiance. "I have been alive for hundreds of years. I was worshipped by the most powerful priests. I had an entire culture exalting my name." She spat the words at him.

Bill looked down towards her. His eye crinkled in humor. "Oh wow. Such an impressive resume. But only a few hundred years old?" He chuckled. "You're a pretty young one."

She snarled "I. Was. A. Legend."

He leaned back. Though the smirk-or sense of a smirk-remained, the air turned frosty. Itzapapalotl, who was above such mortal concepts of hot and cold, shivered.

"Lady, I was a legend before the word ever even existed."

He leaned forward. "Your humans needed to name you to fear you. My humans named fear to define ME."

He began unleashing his power. There was no need to hold back now; it filled the immaterial plane around them, crackling and flaring.

Itzapapalotl tried again, voice suddenly unsure. "I. Am. A. GOD."

Bill raised his right hand. Blue flame burst into being around it. "Hey lady, didn't you hear?" he chirped happily.

"God's dead!"

He swung his hand down.

"There you are!" Mabel's voice rang out across the yard. She and Dipper were finishing up planting the last bush. "We were wondering where you went!"

Dipper straightened up, wiping his brow, and fixed Bill with a look that seemed to pierce right through him. "Yeah," he drawled. 'Your absence was pretty notable."

Bill shrugged. "Oh, I just had go hunting…" He reached behind him and whipped another gummy gooseberry bush out of thin air. "For more of those lovely bushes!"

Mabel gasped, then squealed, clapping her hands as she ran up to him and the plant. "Dipper, look! This one has little berries!" she chirped excitedly.

Dipper strolled up. "You left to find a plant?" He asked skeptically. Bill shrugged. "More or less," he replied. Dipper continued to look at him. He leaned down to whisper in his partner's ear. "I'll tell you later." He motioned to Mabel. "In the meantime, why don't we just let her have fun?"

Dipper's gaze softened and he smirked. "Well, okay…" Quickly, he turned and kissed Bill's cheek, right over the newly-healed skin. "…But you'd better tell me that story." he warned, though the smile didn't leave his lips as he pulled away.

Bill grinned and looked over at the other bushes. "You two are still planting? How long was that supposed to take?"

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Well, we planted them a few different times." He pointed over to the house. "First they were going over there. But then somebody thought that they'd look better next to icebox, then there was the parking lot-"

"-So our customers could be greeted by butterflies, which are like nature's greeting cards!-" Mabel interjected.

Dipper rolled his eyes. "But now I think we've found the perfect spot."

The three gazed at the bushes.

"…You know, Pine Tree…I never brought them up to full-size again."

Dipper looked at him, looked at the bushes, then groaned, putting his head in his hands. Mabel moved to pat him on the shoulder.

It's okay, Dipperoo. Soos and Stan said they'd be back soon." She shrugged. "Apparently their internet man was a no-show."

"I still don't know how we're gonna space this, let alone add in another bush." Dipper grumbled.

Mabel paused at that, furrowing her brows in thought. "Maybe we're over-thinking this." She said.

Dipper whipped his head towards her. Bill turned as well, interested. She looked at them. "I mean, maybe we don't NEED to have a pattern for this."

She turned to face the woods behind the shack, gesturing out at it. "All of this sprang up unplanned. And sure, it might be a bit dangerous or get in the way sometimes, and maybe we don't have control over it, but I think it looks pretty nice." She finished with a smile.

Dipper smiled and walked up to her, unconsciously mimicking her posture. "Yeah." He said. "Maybe things are nicer when they're unplanned."

Mabel and Dipper studied the woods. Bill studied them. He grinned.

"You two might be onto something."

**Bonus**

"The bushes are great! They attract butterflies, birds…ooh! Even bees!"

"WHAT?!" Bill's shout could be heard for miles.

**Bonus 2**

Dipper stood up, panting. It'd taken all afternoon, but they'd finally gotten the bushes planted. He eyed the expensive looking pot that one of them had been sitting in, as well as the dirty interior of Mabel's car.

"Mabel, I have to ask-why'd you put the bushes in the backseat? The trunk could've probably held them just fine."

Mabel smiled and walked over to the car. She popped the trunk and leaned over, eyeing the boys.

"Because my trunk was already full…"

She flung open the trunk with a flourish. The contents inside shone under the bright sunset colors.

"OF GUMMIES!" She shouted.

Bill and Dipper looked inside. The entire trunk was filled to the brim with gummy bears.

The two stared, slack-jawed. Dipper came to first; he slowly shook his head, like a dog shaking off water, and brought his hands up.

"Not even going to ask about it," he said resolutely, and turned on his heel, walking away.

Bill, meanwhile, felt an excited grin stretch across his face. His eyes met Mabel's across the trunk and they both broke into low snickers. He knew he could always count on this girl for something wonderfully unexpected.