The rest of the evening was spent in a bubble bath. On that point, Pacifica had been very resolute. Two hours in the bath, at least an hour cleaning and painting her nails - and another two hours washing her hair. By the time she was back to her champagne-and-flower scented self, it was almost midnight, and she had fallen asleep with her head against Dipper's shoulder in the middle of Theatre of Red Coloured Corn Syrup.

Now, it was 7AM. And the morning had been spent on one thing, and one thing alone.

"Susan. We need to talk." Pacifica said, firmly. "I've spent summer learning about my family, and I've learnt a lot about yours, too. I need to tell you everything."

"Sure thing, Pacificaaaaa!"

"Great. Just do that." Mabel nodded, sitting in a director's chair.

"Sure." Dipper said as he stood in front of his girlfriend, awkwardly. "But did I really have to wear this wig?"

"It helps with immersion." Mabel nodded, sincerely. "Very important."

"I can't believe I asked you guys for help with this." Pacifica snorted, trying not to burst out laughing. "I think this setup might be a little too... Mabel."

She looked at the crocheted background Mabel had made - a sort of bright pink approximation of Greasy's Diner, covered in glitter and bedazzled to levels of such a fabulous nature that it was most likely Mabel's magnum opus. It was clear that the twins knew how important this stuff was to Pacifica. They had, in their own way, gone to the limits to help Pacifica practice.

"Not that I don't appreciate it." She smiled. "I just think it's a bit too - y'know. Distracting."

"Is it the lipstick?" Dipper asked, taking off the wig. "I told Mabel it was too much."

"Na, you should have taken the eyeshadow too, bro-bro. It breaks character."

"Mabel, I didn't even know what eyeshadow was until this Summer."

"And imagine how beautiful you'd look!" Mabel beamed.

Pacifica laughed at the top of her lungs and leant on Dipper for strength. "Look, you wanna experiment, Dipper, I'm fully behind you, but maybe leave the lipstick next time, huh? And like, guys can look amazing in pink, but-"

"Told you the uniform was excessive, Mabel."

"Hey, I knitted that especially!"

"You're both sweet as hell." Pacifica grinned, patting Dipper's cheek before planting a peck on his nose. "I can't believe how lucky I am, sometimes."

"You think you're prepared? Ready to take on the wrath of Susan?!" Mabel grinned, holding up a suitably demented pencil drawing of the diner's matriarch. "Roar! Rarrr!"

The socialite cackled and batted it out of Mabel's hands. "Alright, alright-"

They were interrupted by Stanley, leaning in with Pacifica's satchel in his hands and his car keys hanging from his finger. "You ready fer work, kiddo?"

It was there that any confidence that Pacifica had plummeted. Her conviction became more of a concerned stutter. A concerned, ever-so-slightly sweaty awkwardness that Mabel would have found hilarious, were she not so empathetic with her future-sister-in-law.

"You'll be fine, Paz. I promise." She beamed. "Just think of Dipper in his underwear."

Pacifica went red and huffed. "Wh-what?!"

Mabel shrugged. "They say thinking of people in their underwear helps with nerves, right? Why not Dipper in his underwear?"

Pacifica and Dipper glanced at eachother uncomfortably, both going a deep shade of red.

"That is not gonna help me feel more comfortable, Mabel."

"Psh. You guys are prudes. I think of Kevin in his underwear all the time!"

"Kids, you can carry on with your creepy teenage fantasy shtick on your own time, aight? Now come on, Paz, ya start work in like fifteen minutes." Stan said, firmly. "Just tell Suse the truth, tell her how much of a dashing hero I am, the whole shebang."

"And tell her you called her Suse?"

"Na, skip that bit. Now c'mon, shake those hams, do the weird lovey kiss thing-"

Pacifica giggled, grabbed Dipper by the shoulders and pressed her lips firmly against his. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Y-yeah. Good luck at work and with th-the Susan thing." Dipper silently cursed the fact that he seemed to turn into a flustered wreck whenever Pacifica kissed him, and tried to stop a stupid grin from taking over his face. It didn't work. It was like telling Mabel to stop going 'bwop'. It just didn't happen.

"Thanks, Dippingsauce. Hopefully I won't need it, huh?"

"You'll do great. I'd bet on it." He said. The sincerity was touching.

"Don't bet on a certainty, Slick." Stan said, nudging Pacifica. "Ya won't have a problem, kiddo. Now come on, time's wastin' an' I need a damn good cuppa coffee. Maybe a slice'a pie."

Pacifica giggled, took her satchel and followed the old man, glancing at the Stan O'War, still sitting in the carpark with a feeling of serenity; almost completed. Ford had spent most of the morning varnishing the surprisingly large trawler, and was now trying to de-varnish himself as he waved the two goodbye.

"You're really working hard on the boat, huh?" She smiled, nervously.

"Hey, if you're gonna be sailin' with us, we gotta make sure it's up ta scratch, huh?"

Pacifica swallowed. The whole end-of-summer quandary was still haunting her pretty fiercely, and seeing the Grunkles working so hard to accommodate just one of the options was pretty… upsetting "Uh… Stan, what if I decide I don't wanna be a sailor? Like, let's say I decide to stay with Susan-"

"Then I get a fancy purple cabin." Stan grinned, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "Win-win, Blondie."

From here, she ventured carefully. "You wouldn't be angry?"

"Sweetie, I know it's prolly a bit weird with the whole Northwest thing - but your future's up ta you, not me an' Ford. We'd like ya ta come along, sure, but my main interest is in you bein' happy an' feelin' safe. After this Summer, I think I'd get needin' a bit of a break."

"...What would you choose?"

"Me? I'd go to the crooked family, set up a bank account and siphon cash from 'em every day." He cackled, as he negotiated the turn towards Greasy's car park. "But honestly, I can't make that decision for ya, kid."

"You know, I really appreciate you guys." She said, simply, giving him a hug as they parked up (slightly skewed, taking up an extra space and with the remains of a mailbox trailing underneath the car's rear-left wheel well.)

Stan blinked and smiled, patting her back and trying to maintain his gruff persona to little avail. "We appreciate you too, kid. N-now come on, before ya get me all teary-eyed, huh?"

"I know, I know. Wish me luck, okay?"

"Kid, whether ya decide to go the full shebang and tell 'er everythin', or keep it abridged, I'm on your side, alright? I know that uh… clearing up family history stuff is a bit difficult."

"Thanks, Stan." she smiled. "You don't want a cup of coffee?"

"Na. I think it's best if you two get some time alone." He smiled, tipping his fez. "Have a good day, kid."

"See ya." She smiled, giving him a wave as she climbed the stairs to the delicate panelled door of the Diner's entrance; glancing at the flower planter alongside with smile. If nothing else, she was content she was doing the right thing. Not the easy thing. The right thing.

She took a deep breath and stepped inside to the sight of Susan cleaning tables while dancing The Martian Hop, and couldn't help but crack into a wide grin.

"Mornin' Pacificaaaa! Y'all wanna join your old boss in a daaaance?!"

"M-maybe later, Susan-"

"Awwww, c'moooon!"

"Susan, I need to talk to you about something-"

"I can't hear you over your serious little stockings trying to cramp my moves, Pacificaaaa!"

"It's about Dinkies. And the railroad."

Susan blinked and promptly turned off the Jukebox, her tone suddenly going markedly more serious. She grabbed two cups and topped them with fresh coffee "Sure thing, Pacifica. Sit down. What do you wanna know?"

"I- I was about to ask you the same thing." Pacifica said through gritted teeth, pulling out Tobias Determined's notes, the stuff from Proto-Dipper, some of Mabel's photographs and the journals as Susan watched in surprise. "Uhm… I'll just start from the beginning."