departures and landfalls
Ah, the freedom of a lazy Saturday morning.
Mabel is sunk into one of the beanbag chairs in Dipper's room, legs splayed out in front of her, a gamepad on her stomach and a half-eaten bag of nacho cheese triangles tucked down next to her hip. Dipper and Pacifica are playing the game with her.
Technically, she's fulfilling her role as Saturday chaperone while Mom and Dad are out running errands, but her temporary rule is pretty magnanimous. Dipper is looking very cozy in the beanbag he's sharing with his girlfriend. And they keep looking at each other instead of the screen, so Mabel is totally winning. Everyone is getting what they want!
Mabel lands an especially spectacular jump and celebrates by cramming a chip into her mouth. "Booyah!" she says around the crumbs.
It's only then that she realizes the downside to Dipper's newly developed romantic preoccupation: He doesn't even react to her sweet moves. He's grinning at something Pacifica just said. They're sucking it up in the game and they don't even care.
Mabel's eyes narrow in discontent for about two seconds, but it doesn't last long. The love in the air quickly overcomes her urge to pout. They are just too cute and perfect together. How can she be upset with that? They're cuddling like kittens!
Besides, for the most part they've been good about not devoting a hundred percent of their time to each other. Some of that is due to parental restrictions, true, but they haven't forgotten about Mabel. They're better about it than Mabel had been during her brief flings, she must admit. Her drive to have an Epic Summer Romance hadn't been one of her finer impulses. She's learned to be content to let love happen instead of trying to force it. At least regarding herself, that is; other people can still benefit from her matchmaking prowess. Why, just look at her brother and Pacifica! Mabel didn't have that much to do with it, maybe, if she's going to keep being critical, but she knew it could happen and be awesome and it did, and it is!
Someday, it'll be her turn. Those high school boys aren't far away now…
The doorbell rings downstairs. Mabel isn't supposed to answer it when her parents aren't home, but she still usually checks through the peephole to see if it's a package she should bring inside. She hits the pause button on her controller and sets it down. It's not like Dipper and Pacifica are really into the game, anyway.
"I'll get it," she tells them.
She hurries down the stairs, more eager to return to the game than she is to bring in what she suspects will be a package for her dad (though she does love packages). The doorbell rings again as she enters the living room, which is kind of weird since delivery people usually only ring once. She looks through the peephole, blinking as her eyes adjust to the light and the fishbowl effect.
Grunkle Stan is on the porch, looking impatient.
Mabel's hands are scrabbling at the deadbolt before she even realizes what she's doing.
She throws the door open. Grunkle Stan's expression immediately brightens at the sight of her. "Hey, sweet—"
She rushes into him, wrapping her arms as far as she can around his midsection and squeezing like she can somehow be even closer to him if she just tries hard enough. He returns the hug, albeit in a gentler fashion. He's lost weight; the hug is less squishy, more solid, and still just as wonderful.
"Grunkle Stan!" she exclaims into his shirt. "You're back!"
"Little clingy, aren't ya?" he remarks, though he makes no attempt to remove her.
"It's been forever," she says direly.
"Yeah, sailing ain't exactly the fastest way to get around. Can't say driving was much of an improvement." He leans back slightly, getting several loud pops from his spine. "Yeesh. I need to have Ford build me a robot back." He looks curiously past Mabel. "So, this is your place, huh? Pretty swanky."
"It's just a regular 'ol house. Not full of mysteries or anything," she says, poking him in the stomach.
"The only mystery I wanna solve is 'where's the can?'" he tells her, loosening her grip so he can move again.
"Around that way, to the left," she says, pointing it out.
"Sweet Moses, I'm saved!" Grunkle Stan pushes past her and hurries inside. "Why don't you say hi to Ford while I take care of business!"
Grunkle Ford! Well, it makes sense that he would be here too. Mabel just got caught up in the first grunkle she saw. She goes tearing out the door and into the driveway. There's a large rental moving truck parked there, its orange sides bright in the morning sun. Mabel eagerly goes to the cab, but there's no one inside. She's momentarily confused until she hears a loud clank emanating from the boxy rear of the vehicle.
She rounds the back of the truck to find the door rolled up. The interior looks a lot like Grunkle Ford's bunker laboratory. Equipment lines the walls, some of it stacked with ratchet straps holding the unstable piles in place. Other assorted gizmos appear to be functioning with the help of a haphazardly wired rack of car batteries. Grunkle Ford is bent over a glowing screen, one side of it popped out of its setting as he reaches inside with a screwdriver, tinkering with its innards.
"Grunkle Ford!" Mabel trills in delight.
Startled, he rears up and clocks his head on another overhanging bit of hardware. "Mabel!" he replies as if nothing just happened, turning around.
"Um, are you okay?" Mabel asks.
"What? Oh, yes, the blow to my cranium. It smarts a little, but there's more than one benefit to having a metal plate in my head." He sets down his tools just in time to make room for Mabel's forceful hug. "Ha ha! How have you been?"
"Only missing you every day," she says, hugging him tighter.
"The feeling is mutual," he says, awkwardly patting her hair. He still hasn't quite gotten the hang of hugs again yet, but Mabel is trying to make up for all that lost hugging time.
She finally relents, stepping back. "You gotta come say hi to Dipper!"
"Of course. Let me just put this back into place." Grunkle Ford carefully sets the screen back and tightens the screws. "I thought this blasted thing was malfunctioning, but now I'm not so sure…"
"Sounds science-y. You should tell Dipper about it!" Mabel says, tugging on his hand.
He smiles and allows her to pull him along. "Lead the way!"
Mabel can't wait to see the look on Dipper's face. Not only are the grunkles here for a surprise visit, but Ford brought all his gadgets. It's nerd heaven in the back of that truck (it's nerd heaven in that beanbag with Pacifica, Mabel thinks with an internal snicker). Mabel is less interested in what Grunkle Ford's learned than she is in seeing him and Grunkle Stan again, but she's not oblivious. The weirdness touched her as well. Just because she won't understand as much as Dipper doesn't mean she doesn't want to know.
"Grunkle Stan's in the whiz palace," she informs Ford as they approach the stairs.
"I don't suppose there are secondary facilities upstairs?" Grunkle Ford says hopefully. "I've had quite enough of using the bathroom after Stanley if I can avoid it."
Mabel understands his pain. "Don't worry, Grunkle Ford, you don't have to put up with that Stan Stank. Mabel's got your back."
Mabel waits outside the bathroom, practically humming like a live wire. Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford are here! Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford are here, Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford are here, Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, Stan and Ford here-here-here-here—
When Grunkle Ford finally emerges, Mabel shoots the rest of the way down the hall like a horse out of the starter gate. Dipper and Pacifica are still right where she left them, cozied up on the beanbag. The pause screen music of the game is loud enough that they're unaware of the new arrivals. Mabel doesn't have a problem with them being all lovey-dovey (duh, of course she doesn't!) but don't they know it's Grunkle Time?!
"Dipper!" she shouts, gaining his immediate attention.
He flounders in the beanbag, legs kicking as he tries to extract himself. "Whoa, what? Is there someone—"
He finally regains his footing just in time to almost lose it again when Grunkle Ford appears in the doorway. Dipper's mouth drops open.
"G-Great-Uncle Ford!" he stammers, voice cracking under the strain. Pacifica isn't quite as astonished, but she still stands up with a curious expression.
"Dipper!" Grunkle Ford greets him with a wide smile. "How is my erstwhile protege?"
"Surprised!" Dipper replies, still stunned. "When did—"
"This room at capacity or something?" Grunkle Stan grumbles from out in the hall. He pushes at Ford's back. "Move over, Sixer. That's my niece and nephew too."
"I'm not a turnstile, Stanley," Ford retorts, but he edges into the room enough to allow Stan to squeeze by.
Mabel beams, a hint of tears collecting in the corners of her eyes as Dipper steps forward and puts an arm around each of his great-uncles. "I can't believe you guys are here!" he exclaims.
Unable to bear being on the sidelines a second longer, Mabel hugs Stan and Ford from the back, completing the hug circle. "Let's stay like this forever," she says into Grunkle Stan's shirt.
"Are you kiddin'? My feet hurt already," Grunkle Stan complains (he doesn't try to get out of the hug, though).
"Yeah, well, I didn't miss you, either," Dipper tells him with forced nonchalance, dropping his arms and stepping back.
"Don't get mushy on me, kid," Grunkle Stan tells him sternly. Then he does a double take. "Wait a minute, are you wearing high heels or something?"
"You're the one who owns a pair," Dipper shoots back.
"Those were a gift! Seriously, you're going through some sorta freak puberty and I refuse to look up at you. You get any taller, you're only allowed to walk on your knees at the Shack."
Dipper isn't tall enough to be level with Stan's eyes, but it does seem like only a matter of time at the rate he's growing. "Couldn't be any worse than that wolf boy costume," Dipper tells him.
"Yeah, I could charge! Knee-Boy: The Boy Who Only Walks on His Knees!" Grunkle Stan's smile quickly collapses. "It's a working title."
"Wolf boy costume?" Pacifica says, speaking up for the first time.
Dipper blushes. "Don't worry about it."
Grunkle Stan glances towards Pacifica, his expression slightly suspicious. "Northwest," he says gruffly.
"Mr. Pines," Pacifica responds, equally cool.
Dipper looks between the two of them nervously. "Uh, so, Grunkle Stan, Pacifica is staying with us because of…" His hands rotate wildly as he tries to find his next word. Pacifica's expression hardens in silent warning and his discomfort intensifies. "…stuff, you know, and… things. Anyway, that's why she's here."
Pacifica reaches out and snags Dipper's hand. "We're dating," she informs Grunkle Stan, raising her chin in challenge.
Grunkle Stan rolls his eyes. "Hoo, boy."
He opens his mouth to no doubt comment colorfully and at length. Mabel frantically tries to think of something to say to distract him, but Grunkle Ford beats her to it. "Stanford Pines," he says, stepping forward to offer Pacifica his hand. "I don't believe we were ever formally introduced, events being what they were last summer."
"Pacifica Northwest," she says, briefly shaking his hand. She drops it quickly, staring at his six fingers.
"Yes, good, we're all introduced now," Ford says briskly, ignoring her reaction. "Dipper, I need your eyes."
"My eyes?" Dipper says blankly. "There's something you want me to look at? I hope?"
"Yes, exactly. I didn't mean your eyes in the literal sense, I didn't bring that equipment," Grunkle Ford says. Noting everyone's reaction, he adds, "Not that I would extract my nephew's eyes. Come now, time is of the essence! Possibly."
With that, he strides out of the room. Dipper, looking very excited, is hot on his heels. When they disappear into the hall Pacifica stands in place for a moment, appearing lost. She glances at Mabel, shrugs, and follows the eager pair.
Grunkle Stan and Mabel are left in a suddenly emptied room. "Yeah, this is about what I expected," Grunkle Stan says to no one in particular.
Mabel looks up at him. "What do you say, Grunkle Stan? Science stuff?"
"Eh, maybe in a bit. I've had Ford's whatchits beeping at me for months."
Mabel seizes the opportunity. "Come see my room!" she implores, tugging at his wrist. "I made a Super Shack Collage!"
"Sure, why not," Grunkle Stan agrees. "You got anything eat in there? I know you're hiding something. I found your stash of Cheese Boodles when I was packing up."
"Maybeeee," Mabel says slyly. "But you can't tell Mom!"
"I'm a lot of things, sweetie, but I ain't a snitch," Grunkle Stan informs her, jerking a thumb at his chest.
"Snitches get stitches!" Mabel proclaims, jabbing the air with the flat of her hand.
Mabel is sure there's something scientific going on out in the truck, but whatever comes of that can wait. First, she gets to spend a little quality time with her Grunkle Stan.