Dipper cleans up nicely these days. Pacifica and Mabel have differing senses of style - to put it mildly - but they managed to meet in the middle when they ran him through Rodeo Drive (or this world's version of it, at least). Dark, single-breasted suit, silk shirt, French cuffs, a tie and shoes with brand names he didn't recognize but M&P got very excited over. His hair got slicked back in a power cut, they used some blemish remover from five worlds back to hide his birthmark, and a growth spurt has kicked him above 5 foot 10. He even has enough hormones these days to give him a five o'clock shadow by five o'clock.
He thinks of Joseph Gordon-Levitt in Inception when he looks in the mirror, although Pacifica rolls her eyes at this.
The point being, he looks like he belongs in the bank when he walks through the doors. Certainly every item of clothing he's wearing is worn by 20 other people here. The only things that are out of place are the portal gun and the stun ray hidden in his shoulder holsters.
Mabel looks like she belongs as well, although getting her there was... stressful. It wasn't that his sister didn't understand the importance of fitting in, but something inside of her kept rebelling against how utterly normal she had to look, regardless of how expensive her outfit was.
The first major argument was over the color of the suit - Pacifica wanted dark gray, Dipper agreed, Mabel pushed for hot pink. Then it was shoe color, heel height, blouse pattern, five different arguments over jewelry (size of stone, color of stone, whether charm bracelets were acceptable, which charms could go on the charm bracelet, and something about earrings Dipper couldn't really follow) and finally which glasses Mabel could wear, and how she could wear them.
After all the battles, she looks like just another executive assistant. Mabel's only act of rebellion is that she's wearing neon green underwear with pink kitten faces.
Dipper wishes he didn't know this.
They don't have much of a plan... although with the tech they've got, they don't much need one. What they do know is that there are Northwests on this world, that there's a version of Pacifica here, and that she keeps her money in this bank.
So Dipper's acting as an attorney representing alt-Pacifica, using a stack of forged documents (amended with their Pacifica's signature) to get them as close to the vault as possible. At some point this will stop working, and they'll switch to Plan B... although ten minutes in, things are still looking good, and they're sitting outside of the main vault, waiting to be escorted in.
Now is when Dipper realizes Mabel is singing a Sev'ral Timez song under her breath.
Who's the girl who's so aight,
Tucks us into bed at night,
Holds the fan up while we sing,
Keeps me entertained with string!
"Mabel," he hisses, "cut it out! You can't do that here! We're supposed to be professionals!"
"Chill out, bro. I don't even think they have Sev'ral Times here, and nobody's around to hear anyway." She continues.
My shirt was wrinkled till,
SHE PRESSED IT,
Chews our food,
SO WE CAN DIGEST IT,
He was evil, mean, and reckless,
YOU GAVE ME THIS CANDY NECKLACE
With every line, her voice rises a bit, and by the end of it Dipper's horrified to realize she's changed her posture from a demure, legs together position to knees apart, feet doing a little dance with each beat.
"They might have microphones or something on us! You have to..." He pauses, as a bland young functionary flanked by two men in black suits approach. He tries to switch gears to a more professional tone of voice. "Excellent, I hope everything's in order?"
The functionary sniffs. "Indeed, Mr... Cedar. If you and your associate will follow me into the vault?"
Dipper follows the man, Mabel trailing behind him... and he notices, but doesn't protest, that the security guards fall in behind her, leaving them boxed in as they move down the hall to the security vault. That said, nothing bad happens and they get into the vault, which looks to be standard issue: walls full of deposit boxes, tile floor below, florescent lights above, metal table, folding chairs...
And Pacifica, sitting there, waiting for them.
Not their Pacifica, of course - this one's the same age, same face, but markedly different. Over the years of traveling Pacifica's cut down on makeup and hair product out of necessity - and she never needed that stuff anyway, from Dipper's point of view. This one didn't let up, so her skin looks more worn and her hair looks more fried than the real Pacifica's. And that doesn't even touch on the expression on her face; slightly angry, slightly bored, mostly contemptuous. It's the expression of a woman who's long since curdled.
"Who are you... people?" She spits out before the guards even have a chance to maneuver the twins into chairs via tight grips on their shoulders. "I know you're not any of ours, although the signature on the paperwork was a half-decent forgery."
Dipper glances over at Mabel, who nods imperceptibly. "Ms. Northwest, I think there's been some confusion. If you'll allow me to present this paperwork from your father..."
Mabel reaches for her briefcase and the guards move immediately to stop her... but alt-Pacifica holds up a hand, waving them back. "Fine, let's play this little charade out. Daddy's in Macao, so I highly doubt he had anything to do with this, but if you insist on..."
Over the years Dipper and Mabel have gotten very, very fast at this sort of thing. He knows exactly how long it'll take her to dial in the secret code into her briefcase's combination lock, and how long it'll take beyond that for the iridescent blue force field to surround the both of them. A fraction of a second after that, his stun ray's out and firing at the guards and the functionary, the specially tuned beam flowing right through the field and dropping everyone in the room but Pacifica and the twins.
He doesn't even flinch when a bullet one of the guards managed to get off catches in the field like a marble in syrup, slowing as it flies towards his face before dropping to the floor.
Pacifica shrieks and dives under the table, but Dipper's already grabbed the portal gun and fired it at the far wall, turning an anonymous stretch of deposit boxes into a swirling green vortex, which the real Pacifica promptly steps through.
For her part, Pacifica's dressed in a black catsuit, black trenchcoat, wedge boots, blonde hair up in a queue and mirrored sunglasses, which she must be wearing just for the surprised look on alt-Pacifica's face when she takes them off.
"Wow," the twins sigh in unison.
"What?" yelps alt-Pacifica, a look of utter disbelief on her face.
"Just making a withdrawal, dear," Pacifica says, stepping across the room and reaching into alt-Pacifica's jacket for a moment, her hand emerging a moment later with a safe deposit key. "Dipper, sweetie, can you get the door? Mabel, the duffel bag, please? And which one is it?"
"4311," says Dipper, on his way to lock the vault door even before Pacifica stops speaking. "One of the big ones on the bottom, apparently."
"Beautiful," Pacifica replies, and immediately starts emptying out the numerous items of jewelry into the bag as Mabel holds it open, pausing only to toss out cash, bonds and other currency which won't be valid tender in other alternate worlds.
It's only when they're almost done that alt-Pacifica says or does anything, her voice raising from a whisper to a scream in almost no time. "What. Are. You. DOING?! That is MINE! I don't know _who_ you think you are, but..."
Pacifica sends Mabel and Dipper through the portal, the former with a quick hug, the latter with a fast but passionate kiss and a smack on the butt as he leaves. She turns towards her doppleganger and smiles grimly.
"I AM you, dearie, so don't think for a moment that this is somehow theft. The only difference between us is that iI/i didn't follow in Mother and Father's lead and sacrifice God-knows-what to that one-eyed, triangle demon /ifreak/i!" She's advanced on alt-Pacifica with each of the last five words until their faces are inches apart, alt-Pacifica cringing back in the face of righteous fury she's clearly never seen before.
"He's...he's..." she stutters, "He's too strong to fight." A defiant look flashes across her face. "And he'll _get_ you for this, no matter where you go!"
Pacifica reaches out and takes her twin's head between her hands, slowly, almost gently... and then smashes the crown of her head into alt-Pacifica's nose, dropping her almost instantly. Grabbing the bag, she starts towards the portal, taking a moment before stepping through to look over her shoulder and declare:
"He's already done his worst to me. Tell him we'll be back for him too, one of these days."