"Grendy! I mean Wenda! I—ugh!" cried Mabel, hopping down the stairs of the bus, Waddles the emotional support pig peering out of her backpack. She threw herself at her friends, smothering them with hugs. Dipper trailed behind her, dragging their luggage. He stood back, his hands in his pockets, while the girls greeted each other enthusiastically.
"Oh, come on Pines, don't go all bashful on me now!" joked Wendy, disengaging from Mabel's hug. She walked up to Dipper, and realized they were eye to eye. "I guess I'll have to call you Big Dipper now, huh?" she laughed. Dipper felt his face flush with heat as his friend hugged him.
"H-hey Wendy, it's good to see you," stammered Dipper.
"Really, Dip?" teased Wendy, "Where's the confident guy who wrote me those letters?"
"He decided to send his awkward alter-ego, I guess," said Dipper with a smile, finally feeling the knots in his stomach unclench. Wendy always had a way of putting him at ease.
"Hey guys," said Mabel, popping up between them, seemingly from out of nowhere. "Grenda's mom wants to know if you want to come over for dinner before heading to Wendy's."
"Actually, I kinda had something planned for Dipper tonight," said Wendy casually—then she immediately facepalmed. "I sodid not mean that how it sounded."
"Ooooooohhhhhh! Can't take it back now!" cried Mabel, making kissing noises. "You two have fun with your 'plans'!"
"You. You go now," said Dipper, red-faced, as he lightly shoved his sister back toward Grenda's family.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" shouted Mabel, as Grenda's dad loaded her luggage into their truck.
"So do anything, got it," Dipper muttered to himself, turning his back to his sister.
"C'mon dude, don't let her get to you. She's just being Mabel. Besides," Wendy chuckled, "I walked right into that one."
"Yeah, you kinda did," said Dipper, grinning. He reached for his suitcase, but Wendy had already grabbed it. He made a move to take it back from her, but she put a hand on his shoulder and smirked.
"You're my guest, man. Deal with it." Wendy then flicked Dipper gently on the nose, gave her long, russet hair a toss, and, with his suitcase in tow, started walking in the direction of her house.
Dipper rubbed his nose and shrugged. "Yes ma'am," he said, saluting her backside, adjusting his backpack, and falling in step behind her.
/
The Corduroy family cabin sat nestled in a grove of pine trees, lit up by thousands of tiny fairy lights. The front door was decorated with a wreath, adorned by a large, red velvet bow.
"Wow, Wendy…did you do all this yourself?" asked Dipper incredulously.
"Why, is it too much?" questioned Wendy, her usual confident air faltering for a moment. "My family hasn't done the whole 'holiday thing' since—for a long time, so I was really excited to decorate. I guess I probably went overboard…"
"Too much? Are you kidding? This is awesome!" said Dipper, still looking around, taking everything in.
"I'm glad you think so, dude," said Wendy, grinning. "The inside isn't as impressive, but I still had fun with it."
As Wendy pushed open the front door, the smell of pine needles wafted out. She stepped inside and sat Dipper's suitcase down, waiting to see his reaction as he crossed the threshold.
Evergreen and holly garlands festooned window and door frames, and in the corner sat a potted pine tree sapling. It was wound with yet more fairy lights, topped with a golden star, and its frail branches sagged with the weight of a few small ornaments. Beneath the tree sat several small packages, wrapped in glossy Christmas paper.
"Wendy… this is… you're amazing! I hope you didn't go to all this trouble just for me," said Dipper, his eyes wide.
"Dude, it wasn't trouble," said Wendy, resting a hand on Dipper's arm. "You gaveme a reason to do all this. I started decorating, and it brought back all sorts of good memories from when… well, my mom… she loved to celebrate the holidays." She moved her hand and crossed the room, sitting down on the red plaid sofa. She stared at the tiny pine tree, lost in thought.
Dipper stood awkwardly, not sure what to do with himself. Wendy never talked about her mom. He was intrigued to know what had happened to Mrs. Corduroy, but didn't want to push the issue. He almost just blurted out "So where is your mom, anyway?" Luckily Wendy prevented his social faux-pas by patting the seat next to her and initiating the conversation herself.
"I've never told you about my mom, have I Dipper?" she asked, as he sat down beside her.
"No, not really."
"She was the best, man. Always smiling and having a laugh, usually at dad's expense. She loved nature, loved being in the woods. I always thought it was weird that a tree-hugger like her ended up marrying a lumberjack," Wendy said, smiling fondly.
Dipper stared at her face, rapt with her beauty. This wasn't the Wendy he was used to; while talking about her mom, her green eyes reflecting the twinkle of the fairy lights, Wendy seemed somehow softer, more vulnerable.
"The potted Christmas tree?" she said, pointing to the sapling in the corner, "That was her tradition. She always said dad killed enough trees, and that we should give the forest a Christmas present by adding a tree, instead of taking one away."
"She sounds awesome," said Dipper quietly.
"Yeah, she was," said Wendy, looking down at her hands in her lap. "Then one day when I was ten, she was just gone. No goodbye, no note, nothing. I didn't understand—I still don't." A single tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away absently. "Dad said that he knew she was safe, wherever she was, and then he started acting like she had never existed. He packed away all her things, and would just go quiet whenever anyone brought her up. And we never had another Christmas."
"Wendy, I'm sorry," said Dipper.
"Don't be, it's not your fault," she said. Then she sniffled and smiled at him, her eyes still wet. "Sorry I'm being such a drag, man. Ugh, too many feelings. Point is, you coming to spend Christmas with me, getting to celebrate the holidays again… it brought back so many great memories of my mom. I'm happy you're here with me." She reached out and gave Dipper's hand a squeeze.
"Heh… well, you know, always happy to oblige," said Dipper.
Wendy stood up, grinning. "Now, about those plans I have for you tonight."
/
"Pizza's ready!" called Wendy from the kitchen. Dipper lay stretched out on her bed, looking over the pile of movies Wendy had selected for her "plans": pizza and a B-movie marathon.
Wendy bumped the door open with her hip, and entered her carrying two plates of pizza. Dipper took his plate, and looked at its contents, salivating. The slices of homemade pizza were steaming, covered with gooey melted mozzarella and thick slices of pepperoni.
"God, I love you!" he said without thinking. "—Man! I love you man. L-like in a totally platonic, non-romantic—hey! Is that Bloodicane?" Dipper gestured to the DVD sitting on the top of Wendy's movie night picks.
"Yeah, dude. You wanna watch it first?" Wendy pretended not to notice Dipper's total mortification. "I know you've been looking forward to it."
Dipper smiled, gratefully. "Yeah, that'd be good."
The pair sat side by side on Wendy's twin bed, shoulders touching, as they gorged themselves on pizza and watched B-movies.
/
Hazy morning light filtered in through the curtains. Dipper yawned and flopped over, his hand landing on something very soft. Slowly he opened his eyes, and bit back a yelp. He and Wendy must have had fallen asleep watching movies. And he just put his hand on Wendy's boob.
Panicking, Dipper let his hand sit for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to move it without waking the still sleeping Wendy. Slowly, or fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid? Her steady, rhythmic breathing caused the flannel-covered breast to rise and fall gently beneath his hand. Wendy's hair was like fiery silk in the morning light; her face peaceful, a small smile playing on her lips. Dipper's heart pounded in his ears. He could feel the situation becoming very uncomfortable, very quickly. Fast it was.
He swiftly withdrew his hand and rolled onto his other side, forgetting that he was on a twin bed. He fell to the floor with a resounding crash. Wendy sat bolt upright, her eyes wide, as she looked down at Dipper, splayed on her bedroom floor.
"G-good morning, Wendy," said Dipper sheepishly.
"Dude, are you okay? What happened?" she asked, half concerned, half holding back laughter.
"I fell off the bed."
"I see that."
"I, um, I'm going to go get a shower now," said Dipper, staring at the floor, the tips of his ears burning a magnificent red.
"Alright. But dude?"
"Yeah?"
"Your hand is on my underwear." She indicated to his right hand, with which he was holding himself up. On the floor beneath it lay a pair of small, lacy black panties.
"GAH!" cried Dipper, throwing his hand up. The fabric caught on one of his fingers, and he ended up flinging the panties directly into Wendy's face.
Wendy cackled with laughter as Dipper rushed from the room stammering "Oh—oh God—sorry! Oh God…" As he stepped into the shower, he could still hear Wendy's laughter.
"God I've missed you, Dipper Pines," she called through the bathroom door, on her way to the kitchen to make breakfast.
Dipper stood under the showerhead, letting cool water cascade down his back.
"I've missed you too, Wendy," he whispered.
/
Dipper adjusted his coat, hugging it tighter around his shoulders, as cold drizzle dripped off his hat and down his neck.
"When I suggested heading out for a walk in the forest, I think I forgot we're in Oregon… in winter," he said, his teeth chattering.
Wendy nodded, wrapping her scarf more tightly around her neck. "Man, I hate it when it's not cold enough to snow, but cold enough that being out in the rain is miserable." Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes watering in the cold.
"Oh man," said Dipper, watching her shiver, "I'm so rude—do you want to trade hats? Your old hat is warmer." He started to remove the lumberjack hat, but Wendy put out a hand to stop him.
"No way, man, that hat's yours now," she said with a grin. "It looks better on you anyway."
"Oh, now you're purposely trying to make me blush," said Dipper, in mock anger.
They walked in silence for a few moments, the sound of rain dripping through the trees muffling the normal forest noises. Dipper suddenly felt a tingle on the back of his neck that had nothing to do with the temperature. He stopped and looked around quickly.
"Dude, you okay?" asked Wendy.
"Yeah…" said Dipper uneasily. "I just got a really weird feeling that we're being watched."
"If we are, it's probably just gnomes, man," said Wendy pragmatically.
"Yeah… gnomes," echoed Dipper. He frowned, and glanced around once more, seeing nothing but trees surrounding them. He shrugged, attempting to push his unease aside.
The pair moved through the woods in companionable silence, until a sharp trill cut through the air, making them both jump.
"Sorry, I got a text," said Dipper, pulling his phone from his pocket and reading the message. "Mabel wants us to meet her at the Mystery Shack. She wants to get to planning this Christmas party you had talked about."
"Oh man, I knew I was forgetting something," said Wendy, sighing. "I got so caught up in decorating the cabin that I completely forgot we were going to throw a party. Ugh, I'm so lame. It's a good thing Mabel is like, queen of parties."
"That, she is," agreed Dipper.
The two friends changed course, heading toward the Mystery Shack. Wendy seemed at ease, but Dipper still felt like something was watching them, the sensation making his skin crawl.
It felt like the forest had eyes.
