Sorry this took so long. It's been a busy week. Pacifica is more than a little pissed off in this one because Dipper pulled some messed up shit a few episodes back. Will get into more detail when I write the multi chapter.

Xxx

Pacifica was pissed off. And she was rightly pissed off. She had told her mother that she could handle the ghost problem by herself. But of course Priscilla Northwest could never have any real faith in her daughter's abilities. Of course she would hire a certain slimy magician behind her back and then expect her to show him around like a freaking tour guide. And of course he would accept even though he knew that he was the last person in the world she wanted to see right now. She grit her teeth together as she adjusted her dark teal gloves. The maid, Christina, had finished zipping up her dress and had offered her an encouraging smile. Pacifica did her best to return it but she couldn't really make it convincing when she was so enraged inside. Christina left through the dressing room curtain. Pacifica heard the door close quietly, and she knew that she was now alone with the boy on the other side of the curtain. He hadn't said a word as she was getting changed, which was great. But as she had suspected, he was waiting for Christina to leave before speaking to her.

"Does your father ever speak?" he asked casually from the other side of the curtain. As if they were friends having a normal conversation. And as if he hadn't stayed as silent as the grave when another person was in the show room. "I don't think I've ever heard him say a word. Did your mother cut his tongue out?"

His poor attempt at humour was ignored by her. She wasn't going to acknowledge his existence of she didn't have to. He was kidding himself if he thought she would actually speak to him. Instead of answering, she brushed out the wrinkles in her skirt and fixed the sash around her waist for the hundredth time. She would rather stall than step out from behind the curtain to face him.

Pacifica looked over her reflection in the full length mirror to see if there were any imperfections she could remedy before leaving. The creamy lake foam green dress flared out at her waist like a ball gown for a princess. She had actually been excited to wear it when her mother first made her try it on. She was even allowed to keep her hair in its natural beach curls instead of straightening it. But all of it was ruined by him. This entire evening was ruined by him.

"What other signs has the ghost been showing?" Dipper tried again. He knew now that he wasn't going to be able to lure her into a banter so he was trying to bait her with questions on the supernatural. Well that wasn't going to work either. "Usually moving plates are a sign of a category one ghost. But if that was the case then you would have already taken care of it already. Unless you've grown completely incompetent since you stopped speaking to me."

She forced herself not to snap a retort. He wanted to get her rilled up. He wanted her anger and he would resort to insulting her to get it. It was interesting how a guy who ignored everyone around him half the time, was so desperate for attention.

She reached up to touch the diamond choker around her neck and then tucked the bloodstone on the chain around her neck under the dress. Her matching earrings were in perfect condition and not a hair was out of place. If her mother could see her now she would be ecstatic to see that her daughter was actually putting effort into her appearance.

Pacifica had nothing else to do besides wait there and hope that he would go away. But that would waste valuable time that would be better spent hunting a ghost. With a heavy sigh Pacifica pulled the curtain open. Dipper had been lounging on the lavished red velvet couch, examining his perfectly formed nails. When the curtain slid open, his eyes snapped up to her and he immediately stood to attention like he was from the nineteenth century or something. Thankfully, he didn't say anything to her, his mouth remaining closed in a thin line. He stared at her for a moment that seemed to drag on for hours. His face was expressionless but his form was tense, as if he was having trouble keeping himself in place. Sea green eyes roamed over her form with calculating precision, examining her like she was a new species on a cold metal table.

Growing uncomfortable under his gaze, Pacifica decided to break the silence. "What?" she snapped irritably.

Dipper wasn't phased by her sharp tone, his eyes remaining glazed as her looked at her.

"You're so beautiful," he said with the slightest hint of emotion in his normally cool and collected voice.

Pacifica flinched back as if he had slapped her. A warmth flooded to her face, turning her already pink cheeks a rosy red. It could have been from the rage that was burning through her veins, or it could have been from something else. But regardless of what caused it, she wasn't going to let Dipper Pines think that a simple compliment could affect her so much.

Without a word in response, she trained her eyes on the door behind him and swiftly walked towards the exit. She refused to make eye contact with him as she strode past him, her high heels clicking against marble tile on the way.

"Pacifica," Dipper sighed in irritation when he was out of her eyesight. "Stop this. You're acting childish."

Her steps stopped sharply at his words. Instinctively, her hands curled into tight fists. She wanted so desperately to keep on ignoring him, but it was impossible to keep her blood from boiling or stop her vision from staining red with hatred. All the events of the past week played across her mind and her anger was maximized.

Whatever self control she might have had failed her and she decided to give him the attention he was craving. Animosity poured into her every movement as she whipped around to face him with a livid expression on her face.

"I don't owe you anything Pines," she hissed, taking purposeful and threatening steps towards him until they were toe to toe. Dipper stood up straighter and stuck out his chin, accepting her challenging stance with his usual frigid disposition. "You're the one in the wrong here. If you expect me to just sit back and take your shit when you haven't even apologized to me, then you are in for a massive disappointment. Now, I've got a ghost to hunt, with or without your help. Either go enjoy the party downstairs, or shut up and follow me."

Pacifica turned on her heel and marched out of the room with a new vigour in her steps, the fabric of her dress whispering across the floor as she moved. She could hear Dipper let out an annoyed sigh as she left. Not wasting any time on thought, he took the second option and quickly followed after her.

"I'm only following you to ensure your survival. It's not as if you can handle this by yourself anyway," he commented with a barely contained sneer. "Or you wouldn't have waited this long to get rid of your poltergeist."

Pacifica kept walking without offering him another waste of her breath. She would have punched him in his perfect teeth if she hadn't been more concerned about the fit her mother would throw at her for getting blood on her gloves. Red did not go well with the teal.