Chapter Twenty Nine

Tainted Love

The sun wasn't even up when Lexie left for her morning run through the woods. Due to the chill in the air, she wore black leggings and a long-sleeve shirt made of moisture-wicking material, and her sandy hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Covered in a thick layer of frost, the fallen leaves and dead pine needles that littered the ground crunched underfoot more loudly than normal, and Lexie winced at the amount of noise she was making, which she could hear over her music. Frosty fall mornings were, apparently, not good for stealth.

As she listened to her running playlist, Lexie let her mind wander to what could have been last night. What she wished had happened. After clinging naked to a shirtless Gideon, she'd been more than eager to get him alone and recreate the scenario. However, Jessica had insisted on driving both of them home after they'd debriefed at the Pines' house. What a mom move. It was like she knew.

The song Lexie was listening to ended, and her playlist shuffled to "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails. The lyrics seemed to seep into her skin, and she felt the wolf within stirring—not the feral beast that wanted to hunt and kill, but the other part of its personality. The part that needed a primal urge fulfilled. The part that wanted to mate. Lexie's breathing and heart rate increased, but it had nothing to do with her running. She began to feel lightheaded, so she slowed to a stop and leaned against a tree trunk. She closed her eyes and let her imagination run wild, thinking of all the things she wanted to do to Gideon—and what she wanted him to do to her. A shiver ran down her spine, as she felt his hand grip her waist, and the heat of his breath on her neck.

Except Gideon wasn't really there… and the sensations she felt were not just a daydream. Lexie gasped and her eyes flew open. It took everything she had in her to not completely wolf out. Denis stood in front of her, his hand on her waist, his face only inches from her own. His glowing amber eyes stared into hers with an intensity that nearly took her breath away. Nearly, but not quite.

"What the fuck?!" she screamed, yanking her earbuds out with one hand, while attempting to push him away with the other. Denis's response to her attempt was to step closer, and wrap his arms around her waist, pressing his body into hers. Lexie was momentarily shocked at his brute strength. Even in human form she was much stronger than the average teenage girl, but trying to push him away was like shoving a brick wall. Trapped between Denis and the trunk of a sturdy western red cedar, Lexie began to panic. She wasn't used to feeling powerless.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she cried.

Denis smiled, his lips mere centimeters from her own. "I was out for a run, and I caught a whiff of you… and your pheromones." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "Your body is begging for it, you know. Your wolf. She really wants to be taken and fucked into submission."

Lexie fought back a wave of nausea as he ground his pelvis into hers and she felt a distinctive, hard bulge in his pants. Her first instinct was to wolf out and maul the creep, but his wolf form was bigger than hers, and although she liked to think she was capable of taking him out as a wolf, she didn't want to risk it—because if she fought him as a wolf and he won, she'd be defenseless and naked once she transformed back into her human form.

No, he was stronger than her. Best to use his baser nature against him instead.

Lexie forced herself to relax against Denis, and let her body mold to his. She gave him a suggestive smile, and reached up to trail her fingers against the sharp line of his jaw, then placed her hand on the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair, and gripping it slightly. Denis closed his eyes and groaned. Lexie felt the bulge pressed against her lower belly twitch.

She leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "You know what? You're right. I want to be fucked. No, I need it."

Then she pulled her head back, so her lips were no longer caressing his earlobe. She smiled to herself. His eyes were still closed, and she could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Time for a reality check.

"But not by you," she said, her voice hard. In one swift movement she headbutted Denis, and kneed him in the groin.

Denis let out a strangled cry and folded over on himself, before collapsing to the forest floor. "You fucking bitch," he moaned, as he writhed in pain.

Lexie crossed her arms and smirked down at him. "Remember this the next time you think about touching me, creep. I don't know who you think you are, but I'm not interested in you."

Denis glared at Lexie as he struggled to sit up. "I know exactly who I am," he spat. "And I know who you are too. Whoever you think you are, you're wrong."

Lexie narrowed her eyes at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Denis rose unsteadily to his feet, and took a step toward her. "Why don't you ask Greyfang? I'm sure he'd be happy to tell you."

The crunch of pine needles and leaves alerted both Lexie and Denis simultaneously that someone else was approaching. Their heads whipped around, and a short, slender, brown-haired man in his early thirties stepped out from the brush. He cocked an eyebrow at Denis, who was still half bent over in pain.

"Everything okay, Lexie? Is this guy bothering you?"

"Oz!" cried Lexie. She crossed the short distance between them at a run and hugged her cousin tightly.

Oz hugged her back, but kept his dark eyes trained on Denis. "Is there a problem?"

Denis scowled at the newcomer. "No problem here. I was just leaving." He turned and began to walk away slowly, holding a hand to his crotch.

Oz disengaged from Lexie's hug and grinned at the cousin who'd bit him when she was a toddler and he a teen, and made him a werewolf. "It's good to see you, Lex. God, you've grown like a foot since I saw you last!"

Lexie laughed, and threw her arm around his shoulders. She was taller than him now. "Are you sure you haven't just shrunk?"

Oz pursed his lips and pretended to consider it. "I don't think so, but with all the magical bullshit my friends and I get into, you never know."

"So what are you doing out here, lurking in my woods, anyway?" Lexie asked. "Not that I'm not always happy to see my first 'were-child.'"

Oz gave her the side-eye at that. Then he cleared his throat, and his expression lost some of its mirth. "My friends and I weren't able to be here when… for Pike's funeral," he explained. "We've come to... pay our respects." Then he cleared his throat, and changed the subject. "So was that jerk getting fresh? What was that he said about Greyfang?"

Lexie frowned. "He said granddad could tell me who I am, I think. I don't know what he was talking about. But you can damn well bet that I'm gonna ask granddad about it."

/

Dipper, Wendy, Mabel, Aurora, and Gideon sat around the Pines' kitchen table, all bleary-eyed and pale from a fitful night's sleep. None of them were particularly keen to go back to school after what had happened with the monster last night, but Mrs. Corduroy wouldn't hear it. She had told them that the only one of them she would have considered allowing to take a rest day from school was Gideon, but seeing as Dipper's rift magic had somehow mysteriously healed him, he (according to her) didn't need a day off.

Mabel yawned and swirled her lukewarm coffee around its mug with her pinkie finger. "Where's Lexie, Gid? Don't you guys usually walk over here together before school?"

Gideon took a sip of his energy drink before responding. "Normally, yeah. But she dropped by my house just as I was leaving to meet her, and said her cousin from California surprised her by showing up in town, and they were going to Greasy's for breakfast. They took Greyfang's truck, and Oz, (the cousin), was going to drop her off at school."

Aurora looked up from her bowl of cereal. "I didn't know Lexie had a cousin. Is he a werewolf too?"

"I didn't know Greyfang had a truck," muttered Dipper.

Gideon grinned and nodded at Aurora. "Yup, but he's not a born wolf like Lexie is. He's a cousin on Lexie's dad's side of the family… her dad is a bitten, and her mom is a born." He chuckled. "She calls Oz her kid. Apparently she bit him at a family function when she was really little, and he was a teenager. He was her first bite. He's like an honorary member of the pack."

Aurora stood up and began clearing breakfast dishes from the table. She frowned at Wendy's untouched, now soggy, bowl of cereal. "Is everything okay?" she asked, concerned.

"You are being awfully quiet this morning, Wendy," Dipper said, reaching out to grasp his girlfriend's hand. "What's on your mind?"

Wendy jumped when he touched her. "What? Oh." Her cheeks flushed. "It's nothing."

Across the table from her, Mabel frowned and folded her arms over her chest. "You're an awful liar."

Wendy sighed and rolled her eyes. "If you must know, I was thinking about how much I miss my crew. With the dance coming up next weekend, I've thought a lot about how much I missed out on with them. Not that I'm not happy to be getting to do stuff now, with you guys," she added quickly. "I just really wish I could see them again."

Mabel choked on a mouthful of coffee, and Dipper stared straight ahead, his face suddenly paper white. Aurora clamped her lips together, and turned on her heel, dropping the dishes in the sink with a clatter, and making a show of scrubbing them vigorously. The only person who acted normal was Gideon. His brow furrowed in confusion. The atmosphere in the room had changed completely when Wendy mentioned wanting to see her friends again.

Mabel finally stopped coughing long enough to croak out "They didn't stay in touch. We lost contact with them."

"Maybe I'll look them up online," Wendy said with a shrug. "I'm pretty sure I know which art schools Tambry and Robbie were planning on applying to."

Dipper cleared his throat, then glanced at the clock. "We should head out now, or we'll be late."

As the group gathered their backpacks and headed out the door, Gideon put a hand on Dipper's arm to hold him back. "Uh, Dip, what exactly was all that about?" he whispered. "You know where Wendy's old crew is, don't you?"

Dipper glanced out the door at Wendy, who was waiting for him on the sidewalk. "Not now, Gid. Meet me about an hour after school at the, uh, spot in the woods only the two of us know about. I'll explain everything."

/

The Corduroy house was quiet. Jessica sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper, and the only noises to be heard were the soft woosh of the heat pump kicking on, and the sound of coffee percolating. Wendy had already left for the Pines' house so she could walk to school with them, and Jessica was ready to go as well, but she had time for one more cup of coffee before she had to leave for work.

The last thing she expected was a knock at the front door. The sound echoed through the empty house, and Jessica jumped, startled. She sat the paper down with a sigh, and went to answer the door. She pulled it open and recoiled, nearly slamming it in her visitors' faces.

Jessica didn't recognize the petite, pixie-like redhead, but she knew exactly who the gorgeous, young blonde woman was.

"You have a lot of nerve coming here," Jessica said. She drew herself up to her full height, and glared imperiously down her nose at the offending visitor. "If you know what's good for you, you'll leave. Now."

"I'm not who you think I am," the blonde said quickly. "I heard about Lillith taking on my appearance to torture Pike, but I'm the real Buffy Summers." She hugged herself to ward off the chilly morning air, and Jessica recognized the black leather jacket she wore. It was Pike's from when he was a teenager. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.

"Oh, I know you're not Lillith," Jessica said, her voice hard. "Ollie killed her, just before he sacrificed himself to save my life."

Buffy frowned and hugged herself more tightly. "Oh. I heard he went down fighting, but I didn't—you're his sister-in-law, right? Jessica Corduroy?"

Jessica laughed coldly. "Not exactly. Dan and I are divorced. I'm the mother of Ollie's daughter."

Buffy's eyes widened. "Daughter? Pike has a kid? He never mentioned—how old is she?" She stood on her tiptoes and tried to peer into the house behind Jessica, as if she expected to see a child.

Jessica wasn't sure whether to be offended that Ollie hadn't mentioned having a daughter to his demon-hunting friends, or to be happy that he'd tried to keep Wendy safe by keeping her a secret. It did feel nice to be able to drop that truth-bomb on Ollie's ex. The ex that showed up on her doorstep wearing his old, worn-in jacket. Jessica clenched her fists so hard that her nails dug into her palms. She wanted to rip the jacket off of Buffy. How dare she show up this long after the funeral, hugging his jacket to her like she actually missed him. She'd certainly never made time for him when he was still alive.

"She's not exactly a kid anymore," Jessica said, plastering a falsely sweet smile to her face. "Wendy's seventeen. Well, chronologically she's actually twenty, but she got caught outside of our time stream for three years."

Buffy's brow furrowed, and her lips moved silently as she did the math. "So Pike got you pregnant and then ran off to L.A.? That doesn't sound like him."

Jessica shrugged. "He didn't know he got me pregnant, and I didn't tell him she was his. It was… a complicated situation."

Buffy lifted her chin and smirked. "Oh, so in that case he slept with you and then immediately left for L.A., where he fell in love with me. The sex must not have been all that great."

Anger welled up in Jessica's chest suddenly and furiously. Her fists were wreathed in purple flame, as she stepped toward Buffy.

"Listen, princess," she said, her voice dangerously low. "I don't know why you're here, and I don't fucking care. Unless you want to be set on fire, I suggest you leave. Now."

Buffy cracked her neck, and brought her fists up. "You act like I haven't fought arrogant witches before, Jessica. Bring it."

The two women moved to lash out at each other, and then immediately stopped—but not of their own volition. A hazy, black aura of magic surrounded them both, and held them immobile. Neither could even speak.

The petite redhead, whom Jessica had nearly forgotten was present, stepped forward, and stared at the immobilized women with pitch black eyes. She frowned, and shook her head.

"I'm disappointed in you, Buffy. You too, Jessica, even though I don't know you. (Hi, by the way, I'm Willow). You're both being completely ridiculous. So you loved the same guy, big deal. Buffy, you broke things off with Pike even before you moved to Sunnydale. You've had how many relationships since then? And now you suddenly give a darn who he slept with over twenty years ago? And you," Willow continued, pointing a finger at Jessica. "It appears you'd been living here with your daughter and Pike for a while before he died. I don't presume to know your relationship with him, but you were clearly important to him. Important enough that, as you said, he sacrificed his life so you could live. So why do you give a...a tinker's cuss what his ex from a relationship he had for like a semester in high school says about the quality of the sex you had with him when he impregnated you?"

Willow crossed her arms and looked from Jessica to Buffy. "Well, what do have to say for yourselves?"

Neither moved, nor spoke, because the dark, smoky magic still held them immobile. It took a moment for Willow to notice.

"Oh!" She giggled and smacked her forehead. "You can't—because I forgot that—Sheesh." She snapped her fingers and her eyes returned to their normal color, while at the same time the magical aura faded from around Jessica and Buffy. "If you two don't play nice, I'll do it again," Willow warned.

Buffy dropped her fists and sighed. "You're right, Will. I don't know why the thought that Pike had loved another woman pissed me off so much." She held her hand out to Jessica. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have goaded you like that."

Jessica reached forward hesitantly and shook Buffy's hand. "Grief makes people do weird things, sometimes," she said. "I'm not going to pretend I'm super thrilled that you're here, but your powerful little friend is right: what Ollie had with you so long ago didn't change how he felt about me before he died. I suppose I won't try to kill you anymore."

Buffy tilted her head to the side and cocked an eyebrow. "Uh, much appreciated?"

Jessica inclined her head graciously. "Now that that's sorted, what exactly are you doing here? Ollie's funeral was two weeks ago."

"I know. I wish I could have been there," said Buffy. Then she shrugged. "But work came up. Vampire/demon hybrid babies were—ugh. Well, I'll spare you the details, but it was messy business."

"Lots of entrails," Willow supplied.

Buffy made a face. "Yeah, I don't really want to think about that, thanks, Willow." She sighed. "Anyway, Oz, one of our friends, is a werewolf, a cousin of… was it Trixie?"

Jessica had to hold back a laugh. "You mean Lexie?"

"That's the one!" Buffy said, nodding. "He said she'd told him that Pike was training her and some of her friends in magic, and fighting evil, and all that fun stuff. We wanted to come see if we could be of any help. Just for a day or two, at least. And..." She trailed off, and broke eye contact with Jessica.

"And what?" Jessica asked. Before Buffy could answer her, the faint echo of a school bell rang out in the cold morning air. Jessica gasped. "Shit, I'm late for work!" She darted inside to turn off the coffee maker and grab her coat, purse, and keys, then made her way back out the front door, locked it behind her, and power-walked to her car. "Sorry to dash!" she called over her shoulder to a bewildered-looking Buffy and Willow. "Come by the high school at 3:30 and we can finish this conversation. My classroom is B103!"

Then she ducked into her car and it lurched forward, the wheels kicking up gravel as she sped off toward the school.

/

Mr. Faust sat hunched over in his office chair, swiping frantically at his tablet. It was beeping and repeatedly flashing alerts and warnings at him, as it had been doing since late last night, when his surveillance equipment had recorded the spontaneous appearance of three strangers in the cemetery.

"Yes, yes," he grumbled at the screen. "I see that the small woman's magical energies are off the charts—stop beeping at me!" He sighed and gave up trying to sort through all the warnings, and shut the tablet away in the back of a desk drawer to muffle the constant alert tones.

Just what his experiments needed: one of the most powerful witches in existence, and another Destined—the Slayer, no less—mucking about in Gravity Falls and ruining the magical status quo of the town.

There was nothing to be done, however, except keep his guard up, play the part of the innocent school guidance counselor, and track their every movement via his town surveillance system. Hopefully their business in Gravity Falls would be concluded shortly. If they stuck around too long, they could ruin everything.

/

Lexie stood on her tiptoes to try and see over the throng of students packing the hallway on their way to the cafeteria. She spotted a familiar head of pure white, shoulder-length hair and grinned. She elbowed her way through the crowd and snuck up behind Gideon, smacking his behind lightly. He jumped, then turned and saw who it was.

"Hey sugar, feelin' a little handsy today?" he asked with a smirk. He reached out for a hug, and Lexie practically melted into his arms. She pressed her cheek against his, and whispered into his ear.

"Not just a little, witchy boy." She sighed and nuzzled her face into his neck before continuing. "I was thinking about last night—sitting on your lap, completely nude, with my legs wrapped around you… the things I wish we could've done..." She trailed off, and pulled back to look at him, her eyes glowing a soft amber color.

Gideon's complexion had gone a delicate shade of pink and his breathing was shallow as he stared back into her eyes. Lexie shifted, and he groaned softly. She smiled seductively, and wiggled against him again. There was a distinct bulge pressing against her that hadn't been there only moments ago, but unlike the one imposed upon her earlier that morning, this one was welcome.

"Sug-sugar," he gasped softly, as she ground her hips into his. "We're at school—wh-what's gotten into you?" There was a hitch in his breath as Lexie brought a hand up and ran her fingers through his hair.

She leaned in to whisper in his ear again, her lips so close that they brushed against his earlobe as she spoke. "It's not what's gotten into me, Gideon. It's what I want to get into me."

Gideon leaned his head back with his eyes closed. He swallowed hard, and opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Shit, be careful Whitey," a voice said loudly next to them. "This is the part where she headbutts you and knees you in the family jewels. I'm still walking funny."

Lexie and Gideon jumped apart, startled, and Gideon quickly adjusted his pants. They had been so focused on each other, that Denis had snuck up to them in the now nearly empty hallway without either of them noticing.

Lexie regained her composure first, and glared at Denis. "Oh, he doesn't have to worry. I actually want his body."

Denis chuckled darkly. "I wonder what your granddad would think of that? You really should talk to him, you know. He might have some very enlightening information for you." He turned on his heel and stalked off before Lexie could come up with a snarky response.

"What—?" Gideon stared after Denis, then turned back to Lexie. He was clenching his fists and trembling, his face red. "What the hell was that about? Tell me he didn't touch you—I swear to God I'll fucking gut him if he did."

Lexie blinked, taken aback at how deadly serious Gideon sounded. She'd seen him angry before, but this was different. This was pure, animalistic rage. She could actually feel waves of heat pouring off of him, and his scent was overtaken by the coppery smell of blood, and the hot, metallic odor of molten ore.

"He," Lexie paused, wanting to make sure she chose her words carefully. She gave zero fucks about what might happen to Denis—after all, he'd sexually assaulted her. But she didn't want Gideon to go to jail for beating him to death.

"He found me in the woods this morning, while I was on my run. He made an attempt to, uh, seduce me, and got kicked in the balls for his trouble." She reached up and cupped his cheek, which was so hot to the touch that he felt feverish. "Don't worry about me, okay? I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. He's just a cocky piece of shit. Forget about him."

Gideon took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to calm down. "What was that he said about your granddad? Does he know Greyfang?"

Lexie shrugged. "I have no idea, but this afternoon I'm going to go out to where the pack is staying, and ask him. Maybe granddad will run the asshole out of town."

Gideon closed his eyes, suddenly tired, and leaned against the wall. "I really hope he does."

/

During lunch, the topic of the coming weekend's dance was once again brought up. Even Lexie seemed excited to have a 'normal high school thing' to talk about. Mabel chatted animatedly with her friends about their pre-dance plans, but she couldn't help but notice that Pacifica, sitting next to her and stabbing her fork repeatedly into her salad, remained quiet.

When the bell rang to signal the end of lunch, and everyone scrambled to pick up their trash and leave for class, Mabel placed a hand on Pacifica's arm to hold her back.

"Wait, Paz, can I talk to you real quick?" she asked, shooting her girlfriend a winning smile. Pacifica opened her mouth, and looked like she might object, then bit her lower lip and nodded.

"You've been quiet all day, and you didn't participate at all in the discussion about the dance just now," said Mabel. "What gives? Is everything okay?" She nervously balled up her paper lunch sack, hoping that Pacifica wasn't having second thoughts about their relationship. She'd thought everything had been going great.

Pacifica looked down at her hands. "I—it's just—there's a small complication about me going to the dance with you." She crammed the Tupperware container of uneaten salad back into her insulated lunch bag, and zipped it closed with a sigh. "My parents decided to meddle in my love life, and have, without my input or permission, promised this rich couple they're friends with that I would go to the dance with their son."

Mabel's stomach dropped. "But—you told them to shove it, right? Tell me you told them you were already planning to go to the dance with me!"

Pacifica raised her eyes to meet Mabel's, and shook her head sadly. "I did, but—well, they assumed we'd planned to go as friends. They..." She blushed and looked away. "They said if you found a date, they would pay for you and your date to join me and mine on a double date before the dance..."

"When they assumed we were going as friends," Mabel asked, her chin trembling, "why didn't you tell them the truth? Are you embarrassed of me? Am I not good enough to date a Northwest?"

Pacifica's head shot up, her cheeks red. "What?! No, that's not—you know I'd never be embarrassed of you! But my parents are super traditional and conservative, and I'm just scared—I'm scared that they would..."

"What?" Mabel asked coldly.

"I'm scared that if they find out I'm gay they'll kick me out and disinherit me," Pacifica said softly, gripping the fabric of her lunch bag with white knuckles.

Mabel laughed harshly, and wiped her leaking eyes. "Oh, well, shit. I would never want to get between a Northwest and her money." Before Pacifica could respond, she pushed back from the lunch table and stormed off, slamming her paper lunch bag down into the trash can by the exit as she left the room.

/

Dipper planned to head straight out to the woods to meet Gideon after school, without a pit stop at home. When the bell rang, after he said bye to Wendy and Aurora, he left his bag in Mrs. Corduroy's classroom, and trotted across the hall to use the boy's room. Then he stopped at the water fountain for a quick drink, before heading back into Jessica's classroom to grab his backpack. He was gone for no more than three minutes.

In those three minutes, however, two women had entered the classroom, and were talking to Jessica, with their backs to Dipper. One was a petite redhead, and Dipper assumed she was probably one of the extended Corduroy clan. The blonde, however, gave him pause. Even from the back she looked familiar—her bright blond ponytail reminded him of someone. Then she spoke, and her voice hit him like a bolt of lightning. Adrenaline surged through Dipper's body as he flew across the room at her.

"Lillith!" he screamed.

Three things happened at once. Jessica Corduroy, her face paper-white, cried out "No, Dipper!" The blonde grabbed a sterling silver letter opener from Jessica's desk and whirled around to face him, her features hard. And Dipper was suddenly suspended, immobile, in the air, a black aura of magic shrouding him.

Dipper tried to struggle against the magic holding him, but he couldn't talk, or even blink.

"Willow, it's okay, you can put him down," Jessica said, the color beginning to return to her cheeks. "Dipper, this isn't Lillith. It's Buffy, Ollie's old… friend… whose appearance Lillith took on in order to torture him."

The blonde discretely placed the letter opener back on Jessica's desk, and flapped her hand at Dipper. "Howdy."

The redhead, whose eyes were completely black, folded her arms and raised an eyebrow at Dipper. "No more trying to kill my best friend, m'kay?" She snapped her fingers and Dipper dropped several inches, landing awkwardly, and having to grab hold of a desk to steady himself.

Dipper cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks hot and red. He glanced up at the blonde, who smiled at him. "Sorry for, um, trying to attack you," he mumbled.

Buffy shrugged. "Honestly, in my line of work, I'm usually more thrown off when people I meet don't attack me." She paused and turned to Jessica. "That being said, d'you think there's any way you could get the word out to Pike's little gang of Scoobies that if they see me, I'm not an evil demoness? I don't want to have to hurt anyone trying to defend myself."

Jessica nodded, cellphone in hand. "I'm sending out a group text as we speak. And, now that he's not trying to kill you, Buffy Summers, this is Dipper Pines, the current Star Child of Gravity Falls. Dipper, Buffy is the Slayer. The 'capital S' Slayer. And this is Willow..."

"Rosenberg," supplied the redhead. She jumped when a high-pitched noise trilled. Dipper pulled out his phone, which he'd gotten back from the guidance office that morning, and saw he'd received the group text from Jessica. He smiled to himself as he set the phone to silent, and slid it back into his pocket.

"Right." Jessica nodded. "Willow Rosenberg, a witch more powerful than me and Gideon combined. Her power may rival the power Ollie had."

Willow blushed. "Oh, shucks. I'm not—okay, I am, but"

Dipper inclined his head at the two women. "Thank you for not immediately ripping me to shreds when I tried to attack. Since, apparently, you could have. What are you doing in Gravity Falls, though? We laid Pike to rest a couple weeks ago."

Willow and Buffy made the briefest of eye contact with each other, before Buffy answered him. "We came to see if we could help out Pike's new generation of Scoobies. Maybe you and I can have a chat about the whole 'capital D' Destiny thing—and Jessica here mentioned a 'Gideon' just now. Is he a witch, too? Maybe Willow can train with them some?" She turned to Jessica as she suggested this.

Jessica nodded. "Actually, I was hoping to take Willow out for coffee and to talk shop, now, if that's okay with you both. It would be nice to have an outside magical perspective on our training regimen—and she might be able to help us figure out how to overcome the magical blocks Dipper and Gideon have been dealing with."

"Oooh, magical blocks, you say?" Willow grinned and clapped her hands together. "I love a good mystery!"

Jessica quickly gathered her things and she and Willow left, already discussing Gideon's proficiency level in basic spellwork.

"So, 'chosen one,'" Buffy said, sitting in Jessica's chair and propping her feet up on the desk. "Are you the 'marked from birth' kind of chosen, or did you just stumble onto this gig by chance?"

Dipper's answer was to grin at her and lift his t-shirt, revealing the birthmark on his chest. "They don't call the rift-guardians 'Star Children' for nothing," he said. He pulled his shirt back down and sat on a student chair, tipping it onto its two back legs. "Funny thing—it used to be on my forehead, but it uh, migrated? Once I officially got the Star Child powers. I've got Ursa Major… at least part of it. Jessica has Scorpius. And Pike… none of us knew this until right before he… well… he had Orion's Belt."

Buffy's eyebrows shot nearly all the way up to her hairline. "Pike had a Destiny? I guess that explains all the crazy powerful magic he could do…"

Dipper shook his head. "No, he mastered all that magic on his own. He was marked as a Star Child, but never tapped by the First Star Child like Jessica and I were. Which is bullshit, because, hell, he even asked for it. He wanted to take the burden off of Jessica back when they were kids."

"Oh," said Buffy. Her face was inscrutable. "So how does this Star Child thing work? Is Jessica still a Star Child as well? Are there two of you?"

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck and thought about how to answer that. "Jessica was… decommissioned… awhile back. See, part of being a Star Child is having access to the rift, and being able to manipulate it or use it magically somehow. The trouble is, it can kill you, or drive you crazy, or even change your personality—turn you evil—if you absorb too much rift energy. The power of the rift consumed Jessica, so about three years ago, shortly after I got tapped to be Star Child, the First Star Child cut off her access to the rift."

"Huh," said Buffy. She pulled her feet off the teacher's desk, and began to spin the chair lazily from side to side. "She made it sound as if she's a witch, though, when she was talking to Willow. If she's cut off from the rift, how can that be?"

Dipper shrugged. "I guess the way other regular people become witches—study and practice of magical energies. I know for a fact that she's not running on rift power anymore, if that's why you're making that face."

Buffy frowned and brought a hand to mouth. "What face?"

Dipper ignored her question and continued. "Rift magic is always a bright, sparkly, silver color. Jessica's magic is purple." He paused for a moment. "It's funny… now that I think about it, Pike's magic didn't actually have a color. Jessica once explained that Pike was so powerful that he made things happen simply by demanding they happen."

Buffy chuckled. "That sounds impossible, but that also sounds just like the Pike I remember." She sighed and smiled sadly. "He always had to go and prove everyone wrong."

The two sat quietly for a few minutes, each lost in their own memories of their stubborn, self-sacrificing friend. Then Dipper glanced up at the clock, and shot to his feet.

"Crap! I have to go—I'm supposed to meet Gideon so I can—to explain—I gotta go."

Buffy stood from the desk and followed Dipper out to the hall. "Hey, kid—a question before you go."

Dipper turned to face her. "What?"

"Do you miss Pike?"

Dipper took a deep breath and nodded. "Every damn day." Then he turned on his heel, and headed off on his way to meet Gideon.

Buffy Summers leaned against the classroom doorway and stared after him, lost in thought.

/

Jessica Corduroy sat across from the redheaded witch in a booth at Greasy's Diner. She sipped on a cup of black coffee, while Willow enjoyed a soothing herbal tea. They chatted like long lost friends, and Jessica had to admit to herself that she had really missed having adults with whom she could talk about magic and the mysteries of Gravity Falls. Although most of Gravity Falls' residents accepted that the town was strange, the majority did their best to ignore the strangeness. "Never mind all that" had become the unofficial town slogan after its inception following Weirdmageddon.

"You have got to let me take a look at Pike's library," Willow enthused. "I've never heard of that Cataclysm book. It sounds really useful!"

Jessica chuckled. "It's less of a library, and more of a filthy, book-strewn bedroom, but I suppose it would be okay if you came by and took a look sometime this weekend. The kids will mostly be left to their own devices as far as training goes, because I have papers to grade before Monday—maybe you and Buffy can work with them tomorrow or Sunday?"

Willow nodded. "I'll talk to Buffy and Oz, and see what works for everyone."

"Oz?" Jessica said, cocking her head to the side. "He's the werewolf cousin of Lexie's, right?"

"Oh, yeah—you haven't met Oz. Mr. Mysterious." Willow scoffed lightly and rolled her eyes. "He's like that. Likes to hang out in the background and do the broody werewolf thing. I used to date him, before I knew I was gay. And that's probably entirely too much information, isn't it?"

Jessica bit back a laugh. "It's fine. So how did you guys know Ollie, anyway? Did you go to school with Buffy and him?"

Willow shook her head, and took a sip of her tea before replying. "No. Well, yes, we went to school with Buffy, but not with Pike. She broke up with him before she moved from L.A. to Sunnydale—that's where Oz and I went to school with her."

Jessica's brow furrowed. "But you've been talking about him as if you knew him."

"Well, I do! Uh. Did." Willow turned red and ducked her head down to take a gulp of tea. When she looked back up, Jessica was still staring at her expectantly. "The demon hunting world is a small one, so we ended up having some mutual friends. One of those mutual friends, a big sweetheart of a man called Luther, once asked me and Oz to come to Seattle to help him get rid of a particularly nasty pack of ghouls that kept preying on the homeless population—that's when we met Pike. I kept in touch with him because I discovered he had quite a few connections in the magical black market, and he helped me procure extremely rare items for spellwork on more than one occasion. Pike once even traveled to a hell dimension to get something I needed to bring ba—for a really complex, really important spell."

Jessica frowned. It sounded like Willow almost revealed something that she'd rather keep hidden. "A hell dimension?"

Willow nodded. "He never had a chance to call in the favor I owed him for doing that." She cleared her throat. "So, Jessica, how is it that you knew Pike? I mean, you have a daughter so I know you, uh, knew him… in, like, the Biblical sense… but I'm assuming there was some kind of relationship prior to the...knowing?"

Jessica had been mid-sip when Willow began talking, and she very nearly spat her mouthful of coffee out in surprise. She coughed, and grabbed a napkin to wipe a dribble of coffee off her chin.

"I, uh," she stammered, her face red. "He was my childhood best friend. We grew up together. Then I alienated him by dating and eventually marrying his older brother. Also, he wasn't a fan of the evil Jessica I was becoming thanks to absorbing too much raw rift energy. Then, I used my magic to seduce him on my wedding day, which was when our daughter was conceived and oh my God why am I just telling you all this?"

Willow reached across the table and patted Jessica's hand. "I just have one of those faces. Don't worry, I've done some pretty awful things with my magic before, too. My friends eventually forgave me for the crap I pulled—and I'm sure Pike forgave you. After all, he did sacrifice himself for you."

Jessica looked down into her coffee mug, sniffed, and wiped her eyes. "We had only recently told Wendy that Ollie was her real father… we got to be an actual family for such a short time. Sometimes I wish he had just let me die, and stayed alive to raise our daughter. Gods know he would have done a better job of it than me."

"You really miss him, huh?" Willow asked softly.

Jessica nodded. "More than anything."

/

Wendy was at a loss for what to do after school. It was a Friday, so she definitely wasn't going to jump right into doing homework. Dipper had made plans with Gideon, and normally that wouldn't matter, and she'd go hang out at the Pines house with Aurora, Mabel, and (more often than not) Pacifica. However, Mabel and Pacifica had apparently had a fight that afternoon, so Aurora was taking Mabel out for ice cream after school to try and cheer her up. Wendy almost never hung out exclusively with Pacifica, so that was out. She might have tried seeing what Lexie was up to, but at lunch the werewolf had mentioned going out to visit the pack with her cousin that afternoon.

While meandering slowly in the direction of home, Wendy's thoughts once again turned to her old crew, and the three years she had missed out on with them. Everything was so different now. She really felt the need for a sense of familiarity—of things that hadn't changed much while she was away—and it dawned on her. She hadn't stepped foot in the Mystery Shack since she'd disappeared three years ago. When she arrived at her house, instead of going inside, she walked around to the backyard and headed into the woods, to take her normal shortcut to the Mystery Shack.

It was slower going than Wendy remembered, but that was due to the trail being almost completely overgrown. She had been the only person to ever take this particular shortcut through the woods, and the woods had tried to take it back while she was gone. Only a few meters deep into the trees, Wendy decided to turn around and grab an old machete from the tool shed behind her house. The shortcut used to only take her about fifteen minutes. This time it took an hour, as she hacked her way through the undergrowth. It was sweaty, but satisfying, work.

When she finally made it to the clearing in which the Mystery Shack sat, she grinned, and had to blink back tears. This was the sense of familiarity she needed right now. She propped the machete up against a tree trunk, and headed toward the building she had used to consider her second home. The S had once again fallen forward, so that the sign on the roof read: MYSTERY HACK, and the one of a kind question mark weather vane that had points for WHAT instead of NSEW spun a lazy circle in the light, autumn breeze.

It was like seeing an old friend after a long time. Wendy thought it was strange that, although those three years had passed instantaneously for her (so she should feel like it had only been a few months since she'd been to the Shack), it truly felt like ages since she'd been there. As she made her way around the front of the building, toward the gift shop entrance, she heard a familiar voice.

"Okay, dudes, you take care now! Thanks for stopping to have your brain boggled at the Mystery Shack!"

Wendy rounded the corner to see Soos Ramirez, dressed in his full-blown Mr. Mystery regalia, waving goodbye to a family departing in a station wagon. She trotted quietly up next to him on his eye-patch side, and poked him in the belly.

"Bah!" cried Soos. Then he turned and saw who had poked him, and a grin spread across his face. "Wendy! I haven't seen you in like, forever, dude!"

"Three years is hardly forever, man," Wendy replied, her voice muffled against Soos's shoulder as he wrapped her in a tight hug.

Soos let go of her, and leaned back, raising his eye-patch and squinting at her. "You haven't changed a bit!"

A feminine giggle came from inside the gift shop, and they turned to see Soos's very pregnant wife, Melody, standing in the open doorway. "Of course she hasn't, you derp," she said, smiling. "That's apparently what happens when one gets caught outside the time stream."

Wendy gasped and stared down at Melody's belly. "Holy crap, when are you due? Like, yesterday?"

Melody laughed and held her arms out for a hug, which Wendy provided. "I'm due in about a week, but the doctor says first pregnancies sometimes run late. It could be up to three weeks!"

Wendy felt something move where Melody's belly was pressed against hers, which caused her to gasp and jump back. "It—it kicked! I felt it!"

Melody blushed and patted her belly. "Yeah, he likes to do gymnastics around this time every day. It is such a cool feeling—much better than last trimester when I couldn't really feel him move except for when he would punch me in the bladder." She motioned for Wendy and Soos to follow her inside. "I was just about to start on dinner. Would you like to stay and eat with us?"

Wendy nodded and stepped over the familiar threshold. "Wait, you said he. It's a boy?! Do you have a name picked out?"

"Yup," said Soos happily. He shut the door and turned the sign from 'open' to 'closed,' then took off his fez and eye-patch and tossed them on the counter. "Stanley Mysterio Ramirez."

"Awww," said Wendy. "Does Stan know?"

Melody shook her head. "Nope. We're gonna surprise him when he and Ford come back for a visit over the holidays."

Wendy chuckled. "Ten bucks says you make the old man cry."

Soos laughed, "Uh-uh, dude. Not gonna bet against that, 'cause I think it's gonna happen, too."

Melody pushed through the 'employees only' door into the house part of the Mystery Shack, and bustled into the kitchen, with Wendy and Soos close on her heels. She began pulling ingredients for their meal out of the fridge and cabinets.

"Is there something I can help you with?" asked Wendy. It felt wrong to sit and relax while a heavily pregnant woman prepared an entire dinner right in front of you.

Melody nodded over to a bowl of vegetables she'd just removed from the fridge. "Can you rinse those and chop them up for the salad? And Soos, set the table?"

"Way ahead of you, Mel," he said, as he began pulling cutlery from a drawer.

"So," Melody said, as she set a pot of water on the stove to boil. "Not that I'm not happy you came by to see us, Wendy, but did you stop by for any particular reason? Is everything okay with Dipper?"

Wendy blushed, remembering Dipper's love triangle with herself and Aurora, and then the hiccup with Lillith posing as an older version of Wendy, and trying to seduce him. "No, everything's fine on that front—finally," she said, as she began chopping the romaine lettuce into bite-sized pieces. "I've just been feeling nostalgic lately—missing my old friends who've already graduated. Wondering why they haven't tried to get in touch. And I realized that I hadn't been to see the Shack or you guys in forever… It's nice to be back here and see that nothing's changed." Then she glanced over at Melody's baby bump, and amended her statement. "Er, that not too much has changed."

"Well, dude, you know you're welcome to come by any time, day or night, right?" asked Soos. "If you wanted your old job back, I'd give it to you in a heartbeat. Actually, once little Stan arrives, I might have to hire some part-time help anyway. I mean, I know you and your friends are all busy fighting monsters, or whatever other terrifying things you get up to… But you'll always have a place here at the Shack if you ever need it."

Wendy felt her cheeks grow hot. "Thanks, man. That means a lot."

Her whole world had been thrown upside down when Wendy got pulled out of the time stream. When she rejoined the timeline, everything was different. She'd had to fight tooth and nail to hold onto her relationship with Dipper—a relationship she had taken for granted before she disappeared. She very nearly lost him to Aurora.

Her mom was no longer evil—Jessica Corduroy had taken those three years that Wendy was gone to create a fresh start for herself, and become the person and mother she always should have been. Upon returning to this timeline, Wendy had also found out that Dan wasn't actually her dad, but her uncle, and that her beloved uncle Ollie was actually her dad—and then, shortly after she gained that knowledge, he died.

Other less major, but still significant changes to her reality were that Mabel and Pacifica weren't just best friends anymore, they were also lovers. Gideon, whom Wendy hadn't even seen for years before her disappearance, was suddenly back from reform school, a witch (but good this time) and one of Dipper's closest friends and confidants. The other new bestie that Dipper gained while Wendy was gone was a female werewolf none of them even knew existed three years ago.

And then there was her old crew. Her friends. They seemed to all have disappeared off the face of the earth, and apparently had no interest in trying to get back in touch with Wendy. That hurt.

But the good old kitschy Mystery Shack still stood where it always had, Wendy's home away from home. Soos and Melody hadn't changed at all (except, of course, for their marital status and impending childbirth). Coming to visit them felt like a breath of fresh air in a world gone mad. She was happy, that with everything that had changed in the three years she was gone, this, at least, had stayed the same.

/

Dipper crashed into the clearing that held the familiar, crumbling Bill Cipher statue, at a run, his breathing ragged. He shrugged his backpack off and flopped to the ground next to Gideon, who sat leaning against the statue, his arms folded, a slight frown on his face.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Dipper panted, before Gideon could scold him for his tardiness to their meeting. "I got caught talking to someone after school and I lost track of the time!"

Gideon tilted his head back, a small smile on his lips. "Let me hazard a guess—does the person you got caught up talking to resemble one of the forms taken by a now-deceased hell bitch who tried to kill us all?"

Dipper turned to face Gideon, his brow furrowed. "Um, yes. How did you know that?"

Gideon grinned and held up his cellphone. "The picture Mrs. Corduroy sent us—you're in the background."

"Picture?" mumbled Dipper. He sat up, pulled his phone from his pocket and found the unopened text from Jessica. He swiped it open and read her brief message, which was followed by a candid photo of Buffy, with Dipper standing behind her. "Oh. I was there when she sent the text so I didn't bother opening it. I did not realize I was having my picture taken." He cringed. "Ugh. I look...yeesh."

"It certainly isn't the most flattering picture you've ever taken, sugar," Gideon said with a chuckle, patting the back of Dipper's hand. "But enough about your non-photogenic ass. What's the Slayer doing in little ol' Gravity Falls?"

Dipper shrugged. "Something about helping us train? I don't know. She wasn't super clear about it."

"Right," said Gideon wryly. "Well, that's interesting and all, but now, let's talk about the real reason you asked me to meet you after school—here of all places—to talk about the weirdness that happened in your kitchen this morning."

Dipper glanced at the triangular statue behind Gideon. "I guess I wanted to meet here because nobody but you knows I come out here, and I didn't want to risk Wendy coming across us. Because I don't know how to tell her. Wendy's crew—they're dead, Gideon. All of them. And it's my fault."

Gideon inhaled sharply and shook his head. "That's awful, sugar, but I am going to put a stop to your nonsense right now: whatever happened to them is not your fault."

Dipper looked down at his hands. "You're a good friend, to say that without even hearing the story. And I mean, I didn't actually kill them. But it's my fault they're dead."

Gideon frowned. "It is not. But tell me what happened."

Dipper swallowed, his chest aching at the memory he was about to share. "They had gone camping one weekend. It was a few months before you came back from reform school. Mabel, Aurora, Paz and I never really hung out with them... With Wendy gone, we didn't really have much in common with them." He sighed. "Anyway, Tambry still had my number, and knew to call me if anything freaky was going down. That Friday evening I got a phone call from her, but I didn't know it. Aurora and Mabel had dragged me out of the house to see a movie, and my phone was on silent. I didn't see that I had a missed call and voicemail until the next morning."

Dipper's blood ran cold as he remembered the message she'd left, and he shivered. "T—Tambry was upset in the message. Crying. Tambry wasn't the crying type, so I knew something bad must have happened. I could barely tell what she was saying, because it sounded like she was running through the woods… and I heard screaming in the background. Guys screaming. What I was able to make out from her call was that she and the guys had found an abandoned cabin, and decided to camp there. In the cabin was a book—really weird and old. Looked like it was bound with human skin. Apparently they dared Thompson to start reading the book. Well, being Thompson, he did."

Gideon sighed. "Hadn't they ever seen any horror movies? Don't read from the big, evil-looking book. Just don't. Nothing good ever comes of it."

Dipper nodded sadly. "Exactly. As near as I could tell, the book contained some kind of evil forest spirit, and when Thompson read the incantation on the first page, the spirit was released. In her message Tambry was sobbing that it had possessed Thompson, and Thompson (or whatever was controlling his body) went berserk and killed Nate… She said that's when she took off running and called me. She tried to describe roughly where the cabin was, and begged me to come quick and help them." Dipper had to stop for a moment. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and when he looked up at Gideon, there were tears in his eyes.

Gideon bit his lower lip. "She left that message on Friday night, and you didn't get it until Saturday morning?" Dipper nodded. "Oh, sweetie," murmured Gideon, "that's no one's fault. That's—that's just rotten luck."

Dipper chuckled wetly. "Oh, but the story doesn't end there, Gid. Aurora and I went out to look for the cabin. I knew chances were slim that we'd find any of them alive, but I had to try, you know?" He swallowed hard, and continued. "It—it had been a massacre. There was blood everywhere, and" Dipper closed his eyes and winced, "pieces of them were just scattered all over the place. Except… except we couldn't find Tambry's body. I held out hope that we'd find her alive, and we did. Sort of."

Gideon cringed. "Sort of? Oh...oh no."

Dipper nodded. "Tambry must have been the last one that the spirit possessed. She staggered out of the woods, covered in blood, clutching this big, ancient-looking book to her chest. She was kind of whimpering. I started forward to help her, but Aurora stopped me. She grabbed my arm and said 'Dipper, she is not alive.' Aurora was right, of course. Tambry—or, I guess, the spirit possessing her body—tossed her head back and screeched. Her head was...tilted at a wrong angle. Like—necks don't bend that way. And her eyes were just vacant, with a milky film over them."

Dipper swallowed back the bile that was trying to rise in his throat. He'd been perfectly happy with these memories walled off in a part of his brain he rarely accessed, but now that he was talking about it, the words just seemed to spill out of him. "I—I don't want to relive the fight blow for blow, so I'll just say: I ended up having to decapitate Tambry. The spirit was unable to possess either Aurora or me, I guess because she's a dragon and I'm a Star Child—but I could feel it trying. It felt like someone else was trying to fit into my body." He shuddered. "Anyway, we managed to trap the spirit back within the book, and we burned it with dragon flame and rift energy. Then we buried Wendy's crew, out there by the cabin. Pike had been in Seattle while this all went down, but I called him as soon as we got back from burying them… He drove over and took care of the hard stuff with the parents. I'm not sure what explanation he ended up giving their families, but all of them ended up moving away shortly after. I guess they couldn't handle being here anymore when their kids weren't."

Dipper blinked, and realized he was crying. He tried to hold back, but his shoulders shook, and a sob escaped his throat. Gideon reached out and pulled him into a hug, which made Dipper sob even harder. He didn't deserve anyone's pity, when it was his fault Wendy's friends had all died so horribly.

"It wasn't your fault, Dip," Gideon said, rocking him gently, and rubbing his back. "You aren't responsible for every bad thing that happens around here, sugar. Please don't take all that on yourself. It's too big a burden."

It took a few minutes for Dipper to compose himself enough to be able to speak again. He disengaged from Gideon's hug, and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Finally he said, "You see now why we've avoided telling Wendy the truth about what happened to her crew? Only me, Aurora, and Mabel know what really happened to them. Pike knew, but his death kind of renders that a moot point."

Gideon nodded. "I understand completely. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me the truth, Dipper." He took a deep breath, and continued. "I suppose, then, that I should trust you enough to tell you about some weird shit that's been happening to me."

Dipper leaned back and frowned, concerned. "What's going on, Gid?"

Gideon took another deep breath and blew it out through his mouth. He adjusted his seat, and leaned his head against the Bill statue at his back, closing his eyes. "You can probably recall how about a month ago, I nearly got turned into a vampire, but Lexie saved me by biting me? And then Aurora shifted into my form so she could give me a blood transfusion, since we couldn't get to the hospital?"

"Uh, yeah, I recall. You don't just forget something like that. It was terrifying, Gid. We seriously thought we'd lost you."

"Well," said Gideon slowly, turning his head to look at Dipper, "I'm still here, although I'm pretty sure I'm no longer the Gideon you were worried about losing."

Dipper blinked, confused. "Sorry, I don't follow."

"I'm not a vampire, nor a werewolf, but I'm…" He paused and licked his lips. "I feel things really intensely now, especially anything that involves Lexie. And I—um—if I get...horny..." His cheeks burned crimson. "It's more difficult to control my...urges. Also, I've had nightmares where I'm in the woods, hunting something, and I wake up drenched in sweat, out of breath. I've been starting to worry that they aren't just dreams. I feel like I'm becoming something, Dip. I just don't know what."

Dipper bit his lip. They knew it had been risky for Lexie to bite Gideon when he was nearly ready to turn into a vampire. They had no idea what he might turn into—like, perhaps, a monster that they'd have to put down. But he hadn't. Or, he hadn't seemed to.

This could be bad.

/

Lexie ran through the forest, the underbrush whipping past in a blur as she raced her older cousin out to Greyfang's settlement, a small encampment tucked away at the base of the mountains. Her paws felt at home in the loamy soil, and the cool air hitting her face carried with it the heady scent of autumn in the deep woods. It was exhilarating.

Sometimes Lexie wondered what it would have been like to remain with the pack—what she'd be like if her grandfather had never asked Dipper to intervene and teach her how "to human" correctly. Instead of living at the edge of town in the pack's human-form safehouse, she'd live out here. Hell, she'd never have to shift back to human if she didn't feel like it. She'd have the unadulterated freedom of a true-wolf in the wild. She'd have the companionship of her pack, and she'd eventually choose a mate from another pack…

Lexie sneezed and shook her head to clear it. She loved running with the wolves, but she loved her human life as well. She had amazing friends who had come to feel like family, and Gideon, her best friend, who she loved more than anything. She couldn't imagine not having him in her life. Even better was that now that she had bitten him once, (to keep him from turning into a vampire), she wasn't nearly as scared as she had been, pre-bite, to take their relationship to the next, more physical, level. Lexie felt a shiver run down her spine. Yes, being in her wolf form was comfortable and familiar—but being with Gideon felt like home.

Noise in the brush behind her brought Lexie back into the moment. Her ears twitched, and she could make out the panting and footfalls of Oz catching up to her. No way was she going to let him beat her to the camp. She hunkered down and put on another burst of speed. The smell of the air around her was subtly changing, from earthy, damp, autumn smells, to a familiar, musky, wet dog scent, and the tang of unwashed human bodies. She was getting close to the pack.

Within five minutes, Lexie was at the edge of the small settlement—a collection of tents and lean-to's, surrounding a large fire pit. She skidded to a halt and threw her head back, howling in triumph. The wolf-shifted members of the pack raised their heads and joined in her song, creating a haunting cacophony of voices echoing off the mountainside. The few pack members who happened to be in human form waved their greetings, grinning toothily at her. An enormous, grey, one-eyed wolf strode sedately up to Lexie, and she lowered her gaze in submission to him. Greyfang wuffed quietly, giving her leave to drop her deference to him. She looked up at him, and he nodded over toward a small, green tent set off to the side of the clearing. She trotted over to it, and as the flap closed behind her, she heard Oz crash, panting, out of the underbrush.

Lexie quickly shifted back to her human form, grinning to herself about beating Oz in a wolf-shifted race, again. She honestly had no idea why he still always bothered to challenge her. She rifled through the trunks of spare human clothes that the pack kept on hand for members uncomfortable with nudity in their human shape, until she found a pair of yoga pants and a hooded sweatshirt that looked like they would fit. She donned the clothes, and ducked out of the tent. Wolf Oz was waiting for entry, so she held the flap open for him. He sneezed at her as he passed.

"Sore loser," Lexie muttered, smiling. She looked around and didn't see the large, grey wolf anywhere, so she sat down on a log in front of the fire to wait on him. A moment later Oz, now human, and clothed in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt and basketball shorts, plunked down next to her on the log.

"Hey slowpoke," she said, nudging him with an elbow.

"Hey yourself, speed demon. I'll admit, I'm a little embarrassed about how much you beat me by. How the hell much time do you spend wolf-shifted to have gotten to be that fast?" Oz asked.

"Not that much, actually," Lexie said with a shrug. "The secret is to run a lot in human form—the endurance and speed seems to translate quite well across the shift."

Oz grimaced. "Ew, I'd rather be slow. Running as a human isn't fun, it's exercise. Gross, sweaty, exercise."

Lexie rolled her eyes. "Okay, then I guess you'll just stay slow."

Movement from the large tent across from her caught her eye, and an enormous, barrel-chested, grizzle-haired old man, with an eyepatch over one eye, a pipe in his mouth, and wearing nothing but faded, dirt-stained blue jeans walked toward Lexie and Oz. They stood to greet him.

His lined face was grim, but as he approached Lexie he took the pipe from his mouth, held his arms open, and smiled widely.

"Ah, my wild child has come back to visit her old granddad again. It is about time, young Alexandra."

Lexie made a face at her given name as she stepped into her grandfather's embrace. His size made her feel like a small child again. He was so tall that her head only just came up to his chest. She hugged his torso, and felt him lean down to plant a kiss on the top of her head. When he let go of her, he reached out to grasp Oz's hand.

"And Daniel Osbourne, my honorary grandchild. It's been years! Have you found a pack, yet, or are you still doing the whole 'lone wolf' thing?"

Oz blushed and shook his head. "I'm alright without a pack for now. I have a lot of friends."

Greyfang grunted noncommittally. "Well, if you should ever change your mind, you are always welcome here." He leaned in conspiratorially and lowered his voice. "There's even a few single bitches I've seen eyeing you since you arrived."

Lexie bit her lip to keep from laughing, and craned her neck to look around the campsite, trying to figure out which 'bitches' her granddad was talking about.

Oz's blush became a deeper shade of red and crept down his neck. "Thanks, but I'm good." He paused and cleared his throat. "Actually, we're here for a reason. Lexie has something she needs to talk to you about."

Greyfang turned back to Lexie. "Oh?" His eyebrows rose, and he popped the pipe back between his teeth.

Lexie nodded. She took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. Denis had sounded so sure of himself that morning when he'd said he knew who Lexie really was. She hoped Greyfang would be able to put her mind at ease.

"Do you happen to know a smarmy young werewolf by the name of Denis Wolfe?" she asked. "Because he seems to know you, and he's implied that you know something about the 'real me' that I don't." She realized she'd started unconsciously fidgeting with her hands, so she clasped them together behind her back.

Greyfang's feature's darkened upon hearing the name. "You had better come speak with me in my tent," he said, his gruff voice taking on a gentle tone. He looked at Oz pointedly, and continued. "Privately."

Oz nodded his understanding. "I'll, uh, go chat up some bitches," he said, with a wink and a small smile at Lexie. She managed a small smile back, but her heart was racing. Why would granddad need to speak to her about Denis privately?

Lexie followed Greyfang into his tent, wordlessly. The furnishings inside were sparse—a cot, a small table, and a folding camp chair. The flickering flame from an old-fashioned oil lamp on the table cast a dim, warm glow that didn't quite reach the corners of the tent. Greyfang sat on the edge of the cot, and indicated that Lexie should take a seat in the chair. She sat down with a thump, and began twisting her hands in her lap anxiously.

"So, I take it you know him," Lexie said, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

Greyfang fumbled with his pipe, then sat it on the table. He sighed, and met Lexie's eyes. "Yes, I know him. I've met him and his parents on several occasions. He's a pureblood. Both parents can trace their lineage back to the packs of ancient Rome and Gaul."

Lexie raised an eyebrow. "Ugh. No wonder he thinks he's hot stuff."

Greyfang nodded. "Indeed. Denis's father, Romulus, is their pack alpha. His pack—nearly all of them are purebloods, with a few like you who have two werewolf parents where one is a pureblood, but one was bitten. They will not accept anyone like Oz, or your father into their pack—mere humans who happened to get bitten."

Lexie rolled her eyes. "Snobs."

Greyfang nodded. "They used to be rivals of ours—bad blood from generations back. I don't even know what the original dispute was. But we finally came to a peace of sorts when I signed a treaty with them. This was years ago, before you were even born. You have to understand, I didn't know it would be you. I've been trying to fight it—to negotiate something else..."

Lexie's blood ran cold. "Granddad, what exactly do you mean when you say you didn't know it would be me?" She stared at his good eye without blinking, and for the first time in her memory, he looked away, shamefaced. "Granddad?" she said quietly, her voice shaking.

"The treaty I signed," he said slowly, his gruff voice filled with regret. "The terms of it were that Romulus's firstborn son would marry whichever of my granddaughters was closest in age to him, once they'd both celebrated their eighteenth birthdays."

Lexie's heart plummeted, and she felt faint. "No. No, granddad," she whimpered. She gripped the arms of the camp chair, her knuckles white. Greyfang reached out to put a hand on her knee, but she flinched away.

"I truly am sorry, Lexie. I didn't know Romulus was going to bring Denis here to meet you so early before the wed—before you turn eighteen. I thought I had time to renegotiate the treaty, or at the very least, explain the situation to you before the two of you met." He waited for Lexie to say something, but she simply sat in the chair, trembling, staring at her lap.

Greyfang sighed. "I am sorry if the two of you have gotten off on the wrong foot. Denis probably feels possessive of you because he has been told from a young age that you are going to be his bride. He's the next alpha of his pack, so he's used to getting what he wants."

Lexie scoffed and finally met her granddad's gaze, her eyes brimming over with tears of anger and betrayal. "Used to getting what he wants. I guess that explains why he tried to sexually assault me this morning."

Greyfang opened his mouth to respond, but Lexie stood up from her chair and cut him off. "No, granddad. I'm done. I'm just—I'm fucking done." She began to shift, the clothes she was wearing dropping to the ground in tatters. By the time exited the tent, she was in her full wolf form. Greyfang, still in human form, followed her out.

"Lexie!" he cried, reaching out to her.

Lexie turned to look at him, her hackles rising, and her ears laid back flat. She snarled at her grandfather, her lips pulled back menacingly over her sharp canines, and a low growl rumbled from her throat. Then she turned tail and sped from the clearing, trying desperately to outrun a destiny that she didn't want.

/

After she got home from school, Pacifica paced around in her bedroom, trying to decide what to do about the dance, and her parents' meddling. They had apparently already told their friends that it was a done deal—Pacifica and their son would make a date of it. If Pacifica tried to back out of it now, her parents would be furious that she made them look bad.

The boy, August Summerweather, was a repugnant little spotty ninth-grader, with greasy ginger hair and yellow teeth. Pacifica had seen him between classes after lunch, and the disgusting twerp elbowed his friends to point her out, then had the audacity to wink at her. Pacifica had been tardy to her next class, because she'd been hit by a powerful wave of nausea, and had to run to the bathroom. Pacifica shuddered, and another wave of nausea washed over her as she imagined having to slow dance with August, and probably getting groped for her troubles. She held her stomach, and decided to go downstairs for a glass of ginger ale.

As she was on her way down the stairs, Pacifica made up her mind. The thought of going to the dance with August had nearly caused her to vomit twice in one afternoon. She could refuse without telling her parents the truth about Mabel being her girlfriend. Maybe just say she wouldn't go to the dance at all, if they failed to see reason. Her parents paid so little attention to her that they probably wouldn't notice if she snuck out to meet Mabel at the dance. Whether she actually made it to the dance, however, Pacifica wanted to be able to let Mabel know that she had tried her best to change her parents' minds.

She didn't have a chance to second guess her decision, because, as luck would have it, her parents were sitting at the kitchen table, having their oddly formal dinner that they still insisted dressing up for every day, even though they no longer lived in a mansion. They looked up from opposite ends of the table as Pacifica opened the fridge and rummaged for the ginger ale. There was none. Pacifica sighed, and poured herself a glass of water instead. She gulped half of it down at once, then turned to face her parents.

Priscilla wrinkled her nose. "Young ladies do not 'chug' their drinks like that, dear. They take small, quiet sips." She demonstrated by raising her wine glass to her lips and sipping the amethyst-colored liquid delicately.

Pacifica smiled at her mother, raised her glass to her lips, threw her head back, and downed the rest of the water in one go. When she was done, she wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and sat her empty glass on the counter with a thump.

Preston took a quick drink from the tumbler of whiskey in front of him, and frowned at his daughter. "Very amusing, Pacifica. Is there something you need? Or is this simply another plea for more attention?"

That hurt, but Pacifica didn't let them see it. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaned against the counter, and looked from her father to her mother. "I just wanted to tell you that I refuse to go to the dance with the Summerweathers' son. When I told you I had already planned to go with Mabel, I was serious."

Priscilla smiled blandly. "Don't be ridiculous, dear. We already agreed that Mabel can go with the two of you—provided she brings a date of her own. We are not paying for that silly girl to be a third wheel on your date with August."

Pacifica felt the blood rush to her cheeks. "I'm sorry mother, what did you just say about Mabel?"

Priscilla rolled her eyes. "You know I mean no offense, darling. In any case, it isn't an unkindness to tell the truth."

Pacifica clenched her fists. "Oh, so it's okay then if I say you're a total bitch?"

Priscilla's eyes widened, and she gasped, holding a hand to her mouth.

Preston pushed his chair back and stood, shaking a finger at his daughter. "Now see here, young lady. That is not the way to speak to your mother—or anyone for that matter. You are a Northwest, and Northwests are above using such crude language. Now apologize immediately, and then it is to bed without dinner for you." His idea of fathering accomplished, he sat back down, and placed his cloth napkin back on his lap. "Oh, and I don't want to hear any more complaints about going to the dance with August. He is a nice boy, and we owed his parents a favor."

Pacifica was trembling with rage. "I will not apologize," she said, her voice low. "August Summerweather makes me physically ill. The idea of going to the dance with him literally makes me want to vomit. I'm going with Mabel, and you and your friends can just deal with it."

Priscilla's ladylike demeanor faded momentarily. Her lip curled into a sneer, and she narrowed her eyes at Pacifica. "You are being an absolute brat. What is your obsession with going to the dance with Mabel, and only Mabel? Are you gay for her or something?" She scoffed, and tossed her hair lightly, glancing at Preston so he could share in her little joke. It took her a moment to realize that her joke had not had the intended effect on her daughter.

Pacifica was holding onto the edge of the counter as if for dear life, all the color drained from her face. Her eyes were threatening to water over. Her chin trembled as she tried desperately to maintain her composure.

Priscilla recoiled from her daughter in horror, all pretense of being ladylike dropped. "You—you're not gay, right?"

Pacifica moved her lips, but no sound came out. She blinked and looked down at her feet, tears finally cascading down her cheeks. This wasn't how she'd wanted to come out to her parents.

"Oh my gawd, Preston?!" Priscilla shrieked, all traces of her upper-crust accent erased. She threw her napkin across the table at him. "Do something!"

Preston Northwest wasn't often shocked into speechlessness, but this had done it. He stammered for a moment, before collecting himself enough to once again deport himself as a proper Northwest. He stood from his seat, and for a second time that evening, adopted his 'father posture.'

"Pacifica." His voice was toneless.

She looked up at him through her tears.

"Leave at once," he commanded coldly. "You may take nothing with you except for what is currently on your person. Your car stays, too. I will not tolerate homosexuality under my roof, and I will certainly not clothe, feed, or provide transportation for it."

Pacifica felt like he had kicked her in the chest. She turned to Priscilla, and with trembling lips, uttered one word: "Mom?"

Priscilla stared at the wine glass in front of her, her features twisted by anger. Without even a glance at Pacifica, she hissed "I have no daughter."

Something inside Pacifica broke. She whirled around, accidentally knocking her empty water glass to the floor. It shattered, just like her. She ran through the house, sobbing, and barreled through the front door into the quickly darkening autumn twilight. Her life, as she knew it, was over.

/

The rusted gates of the cemetery screeched as they were pushed open, and a darkened figure wound his way between headstones, finally stopping in front of the grave marker of Oliver Corduroy.

"Sorry I'm late guys—something came up."

"It must have been important, Oz," said Buffy, annoyed. "If you showed up much later, and we would have had to wait until the next full moon to do this." She was crouched in front of the headstone, tracing esoteric symbols into the dirt at its base. She glanced to her right, looking at the symbols on the page of Willow's grimoire, to make sure she was copying them correctly.

"It was kind of a family crisis, so important to me," Oz replied, shrugging. He pointed at one of Buffy's symbols with a Converse-clad foot. "That one doesn't look the same as the book."

Buffy heaved a sigh. "Willow, I need your witchy eyeballs for a sec."

Willow's head popped up from behind the grave marker. "But I like them where they are."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oz says this symbol is wrong. I think it looks the same as what's in your spell book-thing. What's your professional opinion?"

Willow scrambled around to Buffy's side of the headstone on her hands and knees. She took one look at Buffy's version of the symbol in question and laughed. "It's okay if you're trying to bring Pike back as a mindless husk to do your bidding." Then she looked at Buffy, her face serious. "You're…not trying to bring back Pike as a mindless husk to do your bidding...right?"

Buffy threw her head back and groaned in frustration. "Why do spells have to be so specific?"

"I—I told you, this is Big Serious Magic we're dealing with. There's a lot that can go wrong," Willow said with a frown. "Even if we get everything right, there's a chance it won't work. You're sure you want to do this? We won't be, like, mad or anything if you change your mind. Right, Oz?"

Willow and Buffy both looked up at Oz, who was still standing. "What? Oh, sure. I mean, no. Wait, what?"

Willow poked him in the shin. "Are you going to be able to focus on this? Because this spell needs the full concentration of all three of us. If Buffy still really wants to go through with it, that is."

Buffy crossed her arms. "Yes, we're going through with it. You promised to help, so would you mind not constantly trying to talk me out of it, Wil?"

"Fine," sighed Willow. "But give Oz the book. He'll draw the rest of the symbols. He was better at art than you anyway."

"I never claimed to be good at art," Buffy muttered, as she handed the grimoire to Oz.

They got back to work quietly. Buffy began assisting Willow on her side of the headstone, handing her the ingredients she asked for to add to her cauldron.

The squeal of rusty hinges once again split the night air, and Buffy, Willow, and Oz all jumped up, startled. A dark, stooped figured was shambling slowly toward them.

"Zombie?" Oz asked Buffy softly. Not softly enough, however.

"Not a zombie, just an exceptionally old man!" the figure called out. He stopped about ten feet from Pike's grave, and his face lit up with a bright bluish light. He peered closely at the tablet he was holding, then back at the three people. "It would appear that you are planning on attempting a powerful spell here tonight," he said, gesturing at the symbols on the grave. His tone was strangely friendly and conversational. "I feel that it is my duty to warn you, as the unofficial neighborhood watch around these parts, that magic does not always work as expected in Gravity Falls. I advise you to rethink your plans. The graveyard is no place to play. Dead is dead." Suddenly his tone became darkly serious. "You may end up raising something that should have stayed that way."

Then the old man turned around, and began shuffling back toward the cemetery gates. Buffy, Willow, and Oz all stood in place, flabbergasted.

"Well—no one asked you!" Buffy finally called after him weakly.

"The nerve of that guy," huffed Willow.

"Yeah, what a weird old guy," Oz said nonchalantly. Then he looked at his cell phone. "It's like three 'til midnight now. Are we gonna raise Buffy's high school sweetheart from the dead, or what?"

Willow glanced to Buffy, her eyebrows raised. Buffy rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Yup, it looks like everything's ready," Willow said, after giving their spell preparations a last once-over. "Now we have to hold hands around the headstone, and focus on Pike—our memories of him, and what his friends and family here told us about him."

The three friends grabbed hands, and positioned themselves.

Willow squeezed Buffy and Oz's hands. "I'm gonna chant in a weird language, and my magic will probably be visible if you should open your eyes, so don't freak out, okay?"

"Noted," mumbled Oz. Buffy nodded.

Willow's phone chirped the alert that it was midnight, and all three closed their eyes and began to focus on what their dead friend had been like in life. Willow opened her eyes, which appeared as deep black pits in her face, and began chanting in a language long dead. The black aura of her magic swirled up around them so dark as to be completely opaque, a cyclone of raw energy that tore at their clothes, and tangled their hair. Willow had to shout her chant to be able to hear herself over the roar of her aura screaming as it spun through the air and grew in height.

Finally Willow bellowed the last word of her chant, and with a deafening boom the black aura of magic instantly dropped to the ground and dispersed in all directions.

Buffy slowly opened her eyes, and touched her hair, which had been whipped into a complete rat's nest. She glanced around, her eyes shining. "Did it work?"

Oz let go of his friend's hands and backed up from the grave. "We—shouldn't we give him some room, or something?"

Willow frowned and walked around to the front of the headstone. She stared at the ground expectantly.

The three stood in silence, waiting for something, anything, to happen to indicate that the spell had worked as intended.

After five minutes of uncomfortable silence, Buffy turned to Willow. "Sometimes things like this take awhile, right? There's a delayed reaction?"

Willow sighed. "Buffy—"

"Because I know that had to do something," Buffy interrupted her. "It was all whooshy and loud and—"

Willow shook her head. "I'm sorry, Buffy. The effects of this spell are supposed to be seen pretty much immediately."

Buffy hung her head, and held a hand to her mouth. "But I promised—"

Oz slung his arm around Buffy's shoulders and squeezed. "It'll be okay. This isn't the outcome you expected, and that sucks, but honestly, we don't even know if Pike would have wanted to be brought back. Maybe it's time to let him rest."

Buffy stared at Pike's headstone and nodded mutely.

Willow sighed. "C'mon, let's get this cleaned up. Oz, you said you had someplace we could stay?"

Oz nodded. "Greyfang's safehouse in town. It's where Lexie lives—if she's even there. The family crisis that came up involved her."

"Is she okay?" asked Willow, concerned.

"Not right now, but I know she will be," Oz said, looking at Buffy. "She's a tough little bitch."

/

A deafening boom echoed through the deep woods, shaking the shattered remnants of glass that still hung, jagged, in the ruined cabin's window frames. A few seconds after the boom, a dark aura of magic sped across the surrounding clearing, seeping into the ground as it went.

The forest floor trembled, and the ground in front of the cabin began to buckle and heave.

Ten rotting, mud-stained hands burst through the soil—one of them clutching a cell phone.

/

Stay Tuned Next Time For Chapter 30: Dance Of The Damned.

/

Shout out to the amazing ManicPixieDaydreams who is awesome and the best ever!