It was a very lucky thing that his professor took bribes, and even luckier that he knew she was pretty much addicted to Pitt Cola. So when he showed up nearly a half hour late into the lecture with a six pack of pitt and a guilty grin smeared across his face, he received only a glare and a few 'kiss-ass' comments from his classmates. It was the preferable choice between that and losing marks in the class for absence.

Dipper settled down in his seat and popped a stick of gum into his mouth. It took him an embarrassingly long time to discover that gum was a much less explosive thing to chew rather than his pens and then decide to replace it in his thoughtful activities.

Ignoring the comment from his classmate next to him, 'does your wife know you're sleeping with your professor?', he rolled his eyes and brought out his notebook. Every few pages was yet another drawing of Bill, which he figured he could get away with since it technically was supernatural studies.

Over the next half hour, he diligently jotted down notes from every part of the lecture as per usual, fighting away his drifting thoughts toward his earlier exchange with Bill. It was an intense thing to suddenly have the demon back in his life especially after years of fruitless attempts to contact him, but he had bigger fish to fry - he had a life now, a wife and a daughter and a job, and they were all things he was not willing to sacrifice. He had worked way too hard to get to where he was.

His writing slowed to a stop.

But then again, after nearly a decade, was he really going to give up what might be his one and only chance to redeem himself with Bill? Even as confidents, it was hard to believe that Bill would hold no grudge over him for his... admittedly stupid and heartless move nine years ago.

His shoulders dropped. Butterflies fluttered in his belly as he recalled the sweet warmth of Bill resting against his side. The room felt a bit cool, he thought, pulling his sleeves down further over his wrists. Eyes clouded with reverie stared blankly down at his half-written paper. He fixed on the fluid motions of Bill's body, the familiar glow of his aura, his bright and confident voice.

Dipper shook his head, snapping himself out of it. Bill was just so interesting, somehow incredibly intoxicating in a way and Dipper hated it, he thought bitterly. His thoughts turned back to the matter at hand. What did Bill mean by 'practically free'? That demon never wasted any words. There was always a catch and usually with horrifying consequences that typically aren't foreseen. The top of Dipper's pen found its way between his teeth as he stewed over whether or not he'd dragged Mabel into something dangerous. He tried to think of ways this whole thing could go terribly wrong.

Bill might tell Edwin some false rumors and they could get in a huge fight, and Mabel could get horribly maimed in their explosive breakup. Or perhaps Bill would make Mabel fall in love with someone else and Edwin would see it as cheating and it would ruin future potential relationships for his sister. And Bill had a way about him wherein he liked to find loopholes to everything, he could instead try to just make the guy move overseas or something and he would just continue stalking her over the internet or mailing her every day or blowing up her phone like the psycho he pretty much is.

Dipper's thoughts came to an abrupt halt when the word 'scholarship' rang out in class. His eyes shot up to his professor who had written the words INDEPENDENT RESEARCH PROJECT on the whiteboard in big red letters next to a set of three dollar signs.

"...by providing evidence to your theory. It can be any topic your heart desires - the big bang theory, for example, is the proposition that the universe hiccuped and created the mistake that is life, but how scientists came to that conclusion is what you'd need to present." Dipper's eyes lit up and he began furiously writing down ideas for his project and how he would schedule it into his routine. "First place winners get the scholarship prize that will pay for your next year's tuition, should you study another year."

Finances had been a massive burden on him and Pacifica since her account containing her inheritance had gotten frozen. She had wanted to make their place feel just a little more like home and managed to blow a cringe-worthy amount of the money they did have on lavish things, but Dipper couldn't bring himself to blame her for that.

The first thing that came to mind on this whole independent studies thing was the multiverse theory. Dipper already knew it was true - he still had vague nightmares of the melting snail ice cream Bill had tried to make him eat years ago, so all he would have to do is gather proof and that scholarship was as good as his. He began fantasizing about all the things he could do with the tuition money he'd be saving by winning this. Things he could buy for Pacifica, or imagine all the diapers he could stock up on for Atlantica! He- wow... had being a parent really hit him that hard that he was excited about buying diapers? He chuckled a bit at this. When oh when did he become an old man?

For the remainder of the class, Dipper thought about how he was going to gather proof. The obvious choice was to ask Bill for help, but part of him was hesitant to ask any more favours of the demon. If he knew Bill - and he did, particularly well - there was little doubt that demon had a nasty trick up his sleeve for whatever 'tab' he was holding. Still, deep down he had a ray of hope that Bill was sincere about fixing things between them. Dipper gripped the cuffs of his sleeves, recalling how Bill had exposed his scars. He wasn't necessarily a bad demon, just a little unstable. Anyone who had lived that long undoubtedly would be.

He frowned, gazing out the classroom windows. Perplexed with how to handle his situation, he settled instead on gathering past scientific research and paraphrasing. There was no telling what was already in store for him with Bill and just like he'd told Mabel, he was walking on eggshells as it was and didn't want to push it. He wanted Bill to like him again, he wanted them to be friends - for them to have any involvement with each other's lives whatsoever.

The professor dismissed class and everyone packed up and filed out the door toward either their next class or into the parking lot to go home.

Dipper walked with his head hung, clutching the strap of his backpack tight with anxious hands. His eyes were fixed on the tiled floor gliding past as he made his way down to the parking lot. He thought he could forget about Bill, about their past and about their lack of a future. Sure, he might have gone a little overboard with his way of coping, but it was in the interest that if Bill ever did decide to forgive him, he wouldn't miss out. And in the end, he'd made uneasy peace with the fact it was over between them. He loved Pacifica, and the only one he loved more than her was Atlantica. And if he thought - Ow! Fuck, when did they put all these columns in the middle of the foyer? ...Okay, yeah maybe those were always there. Dipper rubbed his forehead where a bruise was now blooming and cautiously glanced around to make sure no one had seen that. Luckily, in college literally no one gave a shit about anyone else, allowing him to sigh with timid relief and make his way out to his car.

...

"I'm home!" the young man called out with the accompanying sounds of the door shutting behind him and the clatter of his backpack hitting the wall in the same spot it always did. He'd stopped by the library on his way home to gather a few books to aid his research. From upstairs he could hear muffled pop music playing. He smiled, swinging around the post and rocketing up the stairs in an air of joy.

Dipper threw his bag across the hardwood floors and it slid until it crashed against the couch where Pacifica was sitting and nursing Atlantica. She greeted him with a pleasant smile and set down her issue of Previously Rich People Magazine.

"What's got you so cheerful? Finally promoted to head dork of the nerd class?" Dipper flopped down on the sofa beside her, a beaming grin lighting up the room.

"Not yet, but I will be after I totally ace this research project!" Pacifica snorted lightly, but Dipper extended his hands excitedly. "No no, listen! The school is giving out a scholarship for next year to whoever wins first prize on this independent research project proving scientific theories true! Or false, maybe, I don't know I kind of stopped paying attention at some point." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well if anyone can place first in a nerd competition it's you," she responded teasingly. Dipper chuckled and ran a hand through his brown locks. A blush settled on his face with the image of his great uncle Ford passing through his mind.

"Yeah, heh. I guess I take after the best," he shrugged, leaning an elbow on the arm of the sofa. The two sat in blissful contentment listening to Prima Donna Young Woman by Marinara and the Cubic Zirconia, the latest top song of the nation - Pacifica couldn't get enough of it. Perhaps she somehow related to it.

Atlantica cooed against Pacifica's teat, wriggling around gleefully. Both parents broke into a smile. Dipper locked eyes with his wife. A moment of tender gazing and Pacifica blushed deep pink. He stretched over to give her a kiss on the cheek, and softly he brushed the bangs out of her eyes. They smiled again until suddenly, Dipper's ear started to ring. He shook his head and twisted his pinky around inside it, chill bumps prickling along his neck. It tingled down to the core, causing him to shiver and wouldn't quit. Trying to ignore it, he turned the radio a few more clicks up and leaned on the arm of the sofa with his cheek resting in his hand again. He gazed at his wife from across the way.

She set down Atlantica on the table. Slightly perplexed, Dipper scrunched his eyebrows and cocked his head a bit.

"Dipper," she said in a straight voice, "how much sleep have you been getting lately?"

"Uh-"

"I think you should get more sleep." She turned away from her husband, bringing both hands to her hidden face. "Get rid of all that school and work foofarah, it's not a place for smart people, Dipper."

"Sweetheart, are you alri-"

"Kiss me, Dipper!" She turned sharply back to him and he nearly fell out of his chair upon seeing the elongated llama face that had replaced her normal face rocket towards him for a smooch. He shrieked and reflexively threw his hands out in front of him to stop her, and as she came crashing down onto him, her breasts - one still out and exposed - landed flat against his hands. A heavy red blush befell him.

"What the heck?!" he yelped, turning his head away to avoid being frenched by a furry version of his wife. She then rolled backwards and clenched her hands over her stomach, laughing boisterously in that loud, obnoxious tone that Dipper knew by heart.

"Bill!" he barked angrily, sitting straight up.

"Boy, Pine Tree, I really had you going there! You sure were a sight for sore eye, all red with embarrassment and frightened half to death." Dipper was gaping in disbelief, fists clenched in his lap. Bill continued to laugh with abandon, shape-shifting back to his default form (but retaining the llama face) as he did. "If you keep that up, Pines, your face will freeze that way."

Dipper didn't find this amusing.

"I would have done this while Pacifica was in the room, but I didn't want to a-llama!"

And he found that even less amusing.

Bill pulled the face off as if it had been a mask the entire time, and not attached to his body as it actually was, and tossed it into oblivion behind him. He wiped a tear from his eye and rested both hands on his sides.

"So," he began somewhat condescendingly, "I heard about this project of yours and-"

"Wait, how?"

"I have eyes in many places, Dipstick, did you forget I'm omniscient?" he said, making a ring of eyes around him that all looked at Dipper, blinked, then popped sequentially like bubbles.

"Okay well, first of all why were you spying on me, and secondly, why do you care about my project anyway?"

"We've been through why I spy on you countless times, I'm through explaining it. And anyway, I was getting to my point that I've decided to help you out!"

"You've 'decided?' Bill, did you consider that maybe I wasn't going to ask you for help?"

"Of course you were! Who else would you go to for all the secrets of the universe?" Bill stretched his arms out to either side and flashed with images of various nebulae and quazars.

"The internet."

Bill scowled and Dipper crossed his arms. "Pity you didn't think of that ten years ago," the demon hissed, squinting at him. A pang of shame punched Dipper in the gut. He averted his eyes from the other and after a short awkward silence, Bill continued. "The moment you get on that computer the only thing you're gonna do is look at pictures of redheads. You'll get ten minutes of work done and then jerk off for the rest-"

"Bill!" Dipper threw his arms up and then jumped to his feet, marching toward the door. "Look, I don't need this alright, will you just go? I can do it on my own."

Bill teleported in front of him in the doorway where he crossed his legs and leaned smugly against the door frame. "Whatever you say, Pine Tree, but when you fail I won't say I told you so."

Dipper pushed Bill in vertical halves like an old western-style door and walked through him, leaving him behind to swing shut and reconfigure as he stomped down the stairs toward the study.

"If you ever come to your senses, I'll be happy to help!"

Rolling his eyes, Dipper pushed open the door to the study and found the room to be completely blank. He nearly fell into it, but retracted his foot and caught his balance. After inspecting it for a moment, he turned back to see the world unraveling behind him. In a flash, he found himself upstairs once again on the sofa across from Pacifica who, thank god, was back to normal.

He glanced around, partially disorientated. He must have fallen asleep there. Bill would explain the ear-ringing, slipping into his head like that.

Dipper sat up and stretched. He reached forward to stroke Atlantica's head and planted a kiss on his wife's cheek. They smiled at each other and Dipper excused himself down to the study to work on his project. Getting up with his bag and back-stepping out of the room, he beheld them as long as possible until he turned the corner into the hallway and raced downstairs to begin the long, tireless process that was researching for a school science fair.