PART NINE OF SECOND SUMMER


Author's Note: If you're new to my series and were just drawn to this story by the summary - go away! No, seriously, this is the season finale or whatever. It doesn't matter how good I write this story, you'll just be confused if you haven't familiarised yourself with my other work and the AU I've been building. You'll have no idea what the characters are talking about, who that person is, or why they're acting like that. Start at the beginning because it's the simplest of my stories and if you don't like that then you probably won't like any of my other stuff. (Philistines...)

Anyone who's stuck with me this far - thanks for staying! This has taken over a year longer than expected to get to (I blame everyone else everywhere) but I'm hoping this story will be a satisfying conclusion to the Mystery Twins' Second Summer. And if it isn't, it's all your fault!

No, not my other readers. YOU.

You know what you did!

The rest of you are alright, though.

All joking aside, stay safe out there! Hopefully, together, we'll get through it.

-Milky Boy Blue


"Now, the ceremony begins with the Groom and best man at the front," the priest explained to the waiting families. "The best man pays the organist for the church fees on behalf of the groom-"

"Nobody mentioned that to me!" Stan protested, only to be silenced by a sharp slap from Abuelita.

"-Before they join the groom right...here."

Stan rubbed his arm and grumbled but stood up from the front pew and went to where the priest was pointing.

"Now, the groomsmen shall be waiting outside where they'll wait for the bride's party to arrive. We play the prelude music-"

The organist tapped a few keys; a jovial tune to help ease their nerves.

"Yes, something like that. We can discuss if there's any particular tunes you would like. The families and friends are seated - hers to the left, his to the right - with parents and close family on the first pew, other family and friends on the second, and guests behind them."

Ford waved from the first pew, Abuelita beaming at her grandson beside him, looking as happy as if it were her own wedding.

"The Matron of Honour and bridesmaids arrive with the bride just before the ceremony starts and meet up with the groomsmen at the church entrance."

"We'll try not to make you wait too long!" Mabel called from the entrance of the church, cupping her hands around her mouth. An unnecessary action since there was no crowd to shout over. "We only need long enough to look beautiful!"

"A few hours, then," Dipper grinned, earning a slight chuckle from Wendy and a playful punch from his sister.

The priest smiled. "Once the bride is at the door, the bridesmaids tend to give a last-second check to make sure there's nothing too amiss. Though I can promise you, even if there is, I've seen worse. Stains, rips, bird and dog droppings, vomit one unfortunate afternoon, even blood. What matters isn't how you look, it's who you're meeting at the end."

"Thanks," said Melody, giving him a shy smile. "Knowing our luck, something's bound to happen. But you're right, this is all about Soos and me."

"Uh-huh," Soos croaked, sweating like a man being interrogated under threat of torture, wiping at his brow as large stains slowly formed at the neck, armpits and back of his t-shirt, glad he'd chosen something loose but wishing he'd picked something darker.

His perspiration only worsened as 'Here Comes the Bride' played, Ford helping Abuelita to her feet as Dipper and Mabel made their way down the aisle, their arms linked. Dipper stood tall and tried to look as dignified as possible as opposed to his sister, who was waving vigorously at the non-existent crowd, occasionally blowing a kiss. Wendy was behind Dipper, her elbow extended to link with a bridesmaid who wouldn't arrive until tomorrow. Soos had been worried that Melody's family wouldn't be there for the rehearsal but Melody had eased his concerns by reminding him they'd all been to several weddings before and could probably do the procedure by heart now.

His heart pounded as the bridesmaid and groomsmen took up their positions, Dipper and Wendy leaving a space to represent Soos' cousin Reggie, and they all turned to face Melody as she approached, dressed as casually as everyone else but still looking radiant. He licked his dry lips and wiped his brow again, terrified to think how much worse he'd be during the real thing. When she reached her spot and looked at him he flinched, as if caught in the act of committing a small crime.

"Then I'll begin a few introductory words for the congregation and the official ceremony begins," the priest explained. "About marriage, what I believe it represents, etc. If there's anything in particular you'd like me to say, just let me know and I'll throw it in. Then I'll ask if anyone present knows any reason why you shouldn't be married-"

"And then Wendy and I'll make them suffer," Mabel was quick to jump in, drawing her grappling hook.

"Mabel, you are not taking that to my wedding," Melody firmly stated.

"What? But it's a part of me! That's like asking Wendy not to bring her axe!"

"I've already asked her not to."

"Yep," Wendy sighed. "Gonna feel totally exposed but it ain't my wedding. Gotta listen to the bride, Mabes."

"Oh, poo," Mabel pouted, stuffing the tool back in her sweater. "Alright. But I'll rub this moment in your face if we end up needing it!"

"I think we're fairly safe," Ford reasoned. "I can't think of anyone with any reason to object. And if worst comes to worst, I'm sure we'll handle it."

"I suppose," Mabel grunted, though neither she nor Wendy looked any happier.

"I'm sure everything will work out in the end," said the priest, who'd listened to the confessions of other Gravity Falls natives for decades and still managed to sport a positive attitude, somehow. "Now, after we check for objections, the couple read their vows. I know neither of you have finished them yet and that's fine, but if you can send me copies once you've done that. Nerves tend to cause lovers to stumble over their words and I can assist you in remembering them if necessary."

"Mm-hm!" said Soos, nodding gravely and looking as if he was barely remembering to breathe.

"Then I'll say a few more words, you'll repeat them, (again, I'll help if necessary) I'll take the rings from the best man-"

"Still think Waddles would have made an awesome ring-bearer," Mabel muttered bitterly. "Not his fault he kept eating the fake ones."

"I'll bless them, you'll place the bride's ring on her third finger of her left hand and repeat what I say-"

"Oh man, so much pressure!" Soos gasped, wiping his brow again.

"She'll do the same for you, and then I'll declare you husband and bride, you'll kiss, the register is signed, and we leave. To celebrate their marriage with a meal, a few embarrassing stories, probably worse dancing and-" the priest grinned -"hopefully some decent drink."

"Yay!" cried Wendy. "What?" she said when she received some looks. "Come on, I can pass for twenty-one! What's the worst that can happen?"

"Your dad or Mendez finds out, a scene is caused, you ruin the wedding, you spend time in jail and the rest of the year looking for a new job?" Dipper suggested.

Wendy crossed her arms. "Spoil-sport."

"I'm sure we'll keep you entertained somehow," Stan said. He elbowed the groom. "Relax, kid! We've got everything sorted. Even the bride's willing and eager!"

"Very willing and eager," Melody agreed.

"See! Don't worry so much, you've made one hell of a catch. Uh, heck. Heck of a catch," he quickly tried to amend himself as Abuelita threw him a look, glancing between her and the priest.

"One hell of a catch," the priest agreed, Abuelita turning her stern gaze on him.

"Uh-huh," Soos said, struggling to speak. "Yeah, I -Woof! - I know, dudes, I'm just like, uh, I mean, I, uh, we-"

"It's fine, Soos," Melody said, her smile unchanging even as she reached out and took his sweaty hand in hers. "That's why we're doing this, to have plenty of practice. Do you want to go through it again?"

Soos nodded desperately and she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before walking back to the entrance, Dipper, Mabel and Wendy following, Stan clapped him supportively on the back . Soos let out a sigh and looked up at the murals above them, silently praying that nothing would go wrong. For Melody's sake if not his.


Pacifica lay in bed in her pyjamas despite it being midday. A forearm lay over her eyes as if to shield them from the sunlight coming through the window. It was a nice day: sunny and warm with a decent breeze. It was the sort of day she'd love to spend beside the pool in her old home; reading a book or a stack of magazines, breaking up the chapters or articles by swimming or sunbathing. That was before they'd had to sell Northwest Manor. The summer home that had become the permanent residence for the Northwest family didn't have a pool.

Sure, she could just head to the public pool but there would be people there and she didn't want to be in a crowd. And if she really missed the old pool, there was little doubt in her mind that Fiddleford McGucket would let her come over and use it again if she wanted, generous as he was. But that would involve leaving the house and she didn't want to do that either. She didn't want to do much of anything.

There was a quiet knock at the door but she didn't respond. It opened a few seconds later, regardless, her mother entering with a small tray of tea and treats. "Hello, darling. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Pacifica lied. "Just tired."

"I see." Priscilla put the tray down and walked over to the window, trying to find some healing words in the outside world. "It's a lovely day. Why don't you go outside? You can come out to the garden with me? We can have tea and crumpets, just like we used to? You don't even need to change out of your pyjamas - wouldn't that be nice?"

"Father wouldn't approve," Pacifica grumbled, pulling her arm away to glare at the ceiling.

"Yes, well, he's at work so what do we care?" her mother joked, her mouth stretching in a grin that didn't look quite natural.

Pacific grunted and rolled onto her front, her head turned away from her and the window.

Priscilla hesitated for a moment before sitting on the bed. "I know you probably don't want to hear this right now but you'll get through it. As much as it hurts this moment, you'll feel better eventually. There's plenty more boys out there, especially for a girl like you."

Pacifica finally faced her. "Who told you?" she demanded.

Priscilla shrugged. "No one. They didn't need to. I had my heart broken a few times before I met your father. I didn't tell him!" she quickly added, seeing Pacifica open her mouth. "And he doesn't suspect anything, either." She gave a little chuckle. "No, he thinks you're this way because - because of another reason."

"That's because he's a boy," Pacifica grunted, taking her pillow and pulling it over her head. "And boys are stupid, selfish jerks who don't know anything."

Priscilla nodded as if in understanding, though in truth she felt very much out of her depth. She tried to think of what she had been like when she was Pacifica's age, what her parents had said to her when she'd been rejected. "Men can be...bloody idiots," she sighed at last, unpleasant memories coming back. "But I'm sure one day you'll find a good one. Look at my mother! She made several poor choices before she met your grandfather. And I made several poor choices too!"

"Until you found Dad?"

"...Y-yes! Exactly!"

Pacifica pulled her head out and gave her mother a look, not feeling very encouraged. Then she sighed and put her head down again, moving so it landed on her mother's lap, Priscilla freezing for a moment before brushing her hair in a robotic manner, hoping it would help. "He is one of the good ones, Mom. I'm not mad at him. Not really. I'm just...it hurt, you know? It hurts so much. But he didn't want to hurt me. He even told me how much he cares about me, that it's because he isn't ready to date anyone and that maybe in a few years..."

"I see. Then I'm glad in a way. It sounds as if you have far better taste in men than most girls your age."

Pacifica gave a small smile, the first that day. "Yeah. He's really special. He's sweet and kind and likes me for me." The smile vanished. "I just wish he didn't prefer her."

"Ah," said Priscilla, hearing her daughter's resentment and relieved to find something she could relate to. "Another girl. I know what it's like to desire someone only to have some tramp walk in and try and take him from you. Usually I'd have some sharp words for them or use my wiles to seduce the man faster, but there was one little tart who just wouldn't take a hint until I convinced her to stay out of my way."

"Really? How did you do that?"

"I dragged her into the bathroom by her hair, slammed a toilet seat on her skull until she lost consciousness and then dunked her face in the bowl as a warning to every other girl in my dorm."

Pacifica turned a little to look up her mother, Priscilla's fist clenched in victory as she smiled into the distance. "Um. Riiight. Yeah, I don't want to do that. And even if I did, she's, like, six foot and can beat up grown men?"

"That's why we bought you a taser, dear."

"She has an axe."

"Oh. Wait. Are we talking about that tall redhead you had that sleepover with but who destroyed your father's Rolls Royce?"

Pacifica frowned, wondering when she'd had a sleepover with Wendy Corduroy. Then she recalled when three old women had hired Jenna Myles to take over their bodies, the one in Wendy's body staying the night after witnessing Manly Dan preparing dinner. "Oh, right. Yep. That's my rival."

"I...see," Priscilla said. "On second thought, maybe you shouldn't confront her. You're a very capable girl, Pacifica, but I've seen her father from a safe distance and you have to wonder how much she's inherited from him."

"A lot. Relax, I won't attack her or anything. I'm sad, not suicidal. But I don't know what to do about Dipper," she admitted quietly. "I want him to feel the same way I do. But he doesn't and I have no idea how to make him like me. Or if I even should. Maybe it'd be better if I moved on. But I can't help wondering if one day he'll change his mind about her. About me. And what if he can't? He's liked her for even longer than I've liked him."

Priscilla let out a small breath from her nostrils, looking down at her daughter in pain, reaching out to her for comfort and felt a little ache inside at not knowing how to help her. She had been very different from her daughter, growing up. Angrier and less-forgiving. She hadn't been much of a mother, she knew that better than anyone even if it was a lesson she'd learned too late. But she had to try because she didn't want to resort back to the kind of woman who called on a nanny whenever her daughter skinned her knee or chastised her for crying when she was frightened or alone.

"This...wedding," she said thoughtfully, after a little while had passed. "This other girl will be there too?"

"Well, yeah," Pacifica said. "She's a friend of the family. She's going to be up beside the groom."

"And do you know what kind of dress she'll be wearing?"

Pacifica looked at her, confused. "She's not wearing a dress. She's wearing a suit."

"Ah," said Priscilla, smirking. "Excellent. In that case I think this wedding will create a golden opportunity for you."

"What do you-"

"You are an exceptionally beautiful girl, Pacifica," her mother told her. "You've developed a bit from last year, so we'll need to go shopping for something that will fit you better and help catch the eye of the Pines boy. This girl might have nice hair and be rather fetching (in a working-class sort of way) but we can afford anything you want that'll bring out your beauty even further. Certainly more than that tomboy."

Pacifica hesitated, noticing that her mother had become suddenly excited by the prospect and unwilling to dampen her mood but not sharing her optimism. "I don't know, Mom. Dipper isn't really the type of boy to change his mind about a girl just because she dresses nicer and I don't think-"

"This isn't about that," Priscilla interrupted. "This is about you. A wedding is like a party and the Pacifica I know loved parties. Plenty of boys will want to dance with you and you always were an amazing dancer, you didn't care who with. This is the perfect opportunity to show off. Maybe you'll get to dance with that special someone. And even if you don't, you'll at least prove that you don't need them to have a good time and to show them what they're missing."

Pacifica considered this. She did enjoy parties. Even now that she wasn't demanding to be the centre of them or comparing them to the lavish ones at old Northwest Manor, she still liked them And she hadn't had a chance to wear a dress since before Weirdmageddon. And maybe her mother was right and she would catch Dipper's eye, even if it was only for a moment.

"Okay, Mom," she said, sitting up and looking a little happier. "That does sound good."

"Excellent!" Priscilla declared, clapping her hands and getting to her feet. "We can go shopping now? Or tomorrow if you'd prefer?"

"Today sounds good. Uh, give me twenty minutes to get ready and I'll meet you downstairs?"

Priscilla kissed the top of her head before leaving. When the door closed, the smile on Pacifica's face faltered. It did sound like a good idea and she was very happy that they'd be spending some time together. They hadn't done it very often before they'd lost their fortune but she had enjoyed those rare occasions very much. She still didn't think it'd completely numb the pain but she had to do something.

She quickly washed and dressed, drying her face and pausing at her reflection, wondering if they should also get makeup that might make her look more mature.

She cursed herself for thinking that. She was fourteen, she shouldn't need to look mature. Why did she even want to in the first place, was it to be a little more like her in the hopes of appealing to Dipper?

Her eyes fell on her phone and she ground her teeth as she resisted the urge like she'd been doing every night since the clones had left.

She knew she shouldn't do it. That she was pouring salt in the wound. But, just as she had every other time she tried to warn herself against it, she pulled out her phone and stared miserably at the picture that caused her so much distress, The one that she couldn't force herself to delete.

Her mouth tightened as she stared at the image of Wendy's clone pressing her lips against Dipper's, a part of her hating herself for looking at the image again and causing the ache in her heart. A smaller part of her hated him for not resisting, even if he looked too shocked to really enjoy the moment. Mostly, she just hated Wendy for doing that to him in the first place, even if it was a paper copy.

She angrily flung her phone aside and jumped back in bed fully dressed, gathering her covers up tightly and rolling around until she was in a warm cocoon, kicking herself and the sheets in her anger.

Why was she doing this to herself? It wasn't the real Wendy, it didn't count! He'd even said that himself: it didn't mean anything, just a burst of emotion that made her react in an unexpected way. Everyone could get over-excited and make a mistake!

Was it a mistake?

Of course it was! She wasn't interested! She'd even said so herself! Several times!

Then why on the lips, even if it was a clone?

Pacifica growled, and clutched her head as if trying to claw that thought out, only for it to sink in deeper and multiply like some poisonous parasite or bacteria.

If she's meant to be cool under pressure, why d o it in the first place? Who thinks of something like that in the spur of the moment?

Look at how she treats him, different from all the others, are you sure there's nothing more to it?

You saw how she looked at the future-Dipper when he said goodbye! And she saw him again in Jenna's love mist - what if that was just the start of something?

Pacifica flung the covers off with a snarl, hating the intrusive thoughts and the stings they left in her heart. But try as she might, she couldn't shake them and she recalled what her mother had said about the satisfaction of defeating her rivals, realising they had more in common than she first thought.

She picked her phone off the floor and made a call, waiting impatiently for an answer.

"Hi, Gideon. Listen, I need you to help me out with something. Are you free tomorrow?" she asked, a part of her wondering if she was making a mistake, ignoring the voices that told her she was.


"Looks like a nice day, sure you want to spend all of it inside?" Phil asked as he walked her to the arcade from the parking lot.

"I'm sure," Pacifica said, the leash of the Northwest family dog, Duchess, in one hand. "I'm going to teach Gideon some games and walk to Greasy's after."

"Hn." Phil hadn't tried very hard to hide his disapproval of Gideon Gleeful, despite Pacifica's defence of her new friend. But he'd stopped outright insulting him so there was some improvement.

They'd come to a decent arrangement to give Pacifica some freedom while also letting Phil fulfil his position as bodyguard. He drove Pacifica to wherever she needed to go but didn't accompany her inside unless she requested it or if he thought it was necessary, instead going for a walk nearby or sitting in the car reading a book or writing his reports to the future or a letter to his daughter. He especially liked doing so in Greasy's where he could watch over Pacifica without getting in her way, appreciating the way she made his tea as he wrote or read.

The only conditions he'd been firm about was that he'd join her at or remove her from any situation if he suspected danger, and that she updated him whenever she changed locations. Which was why she was lying to him right now, ignoring the guilty knot in her stomach.

"Why, hello, Mister Pink and Pacifica," Gideon greeted them from the entrance of the arcade, dressed as usual in a smart blue suit. "Such a lovely day, isn't it?"

"Hey, Gideon," Pacifica said, keeping her voice warm but narrowing her eyes slightly at his attire.

"Gleeful," Phil grunted. He turned to Pacifica, taking the leash from her hand. "Call me if you need anything. I'll be in the park walking Duchess and meet you at Greasy's. Got your phone, wallet and taser?"

"Yes," Pacifica sighed, fed up going through the same routine every time he left her to her own devices.

"Uh-huh. And what do you do if you're in a bad situation and I'm not there?"

Pacifica rolled her eyes. "Scream for help and go for the throat and eyes."

Phil gave her a stern look. "And if it's a boy?"

Pacifica glared at him, glancing at Gideon and turning pink. "Be-...between the legs," she muttered, looking at the sidewalk.

"Good girl," Phil said, finally relenting and rubbing the top of her head. "Teach them not to cross you."

"Stop messing up my hair!" Pacifica snapped, using both hands to push him away, only for Phil to then add a little more effort so it returned to its previous position, forcing her to push harder. This repeated a few times until Pacifica decided enough was enough. "Leave me alone!" she screamed, stamping her foot in frustration as she pushed his hand away again. "Go walk my dog and I'll meet you at Greasy's later! God!"

"Ah, to be young and overly-emotional again, eh, girl?" Phil sighed, shaking his head and reaching down to pat Duchess affectionately, taking a rubber ball out of his pocket as he walked away. "Come on. Us oldies need some exercise."

Pacifica muttered something under her breath as he crossed the street, pulling out her handheld mirror and straightening her hair. She paused when she noticed Gideon's reflection smiling at her. "What?"

Gideon shrugged. "Nice to see you've made a friend."

Pacifica closed the mirror with a snap and a scowl but didn't respond. "Did you bring what I asked?" she said instead. "And is that what you're wearing?"

"They're over here," Gideon said, taking her past the arcade and to a nearby alley, pulling out a backpack and showing her what was inside. "And no, I'm not wearing a suit." He reached in and removed a t-shirt, boots and non-suit trousers. "Wait here, I'll go change," he told her, heading into the arcade.

Pacifica stuck her hands in her pockets as she waited, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Well, no, actually, she wasn't. The answer was obvious, even to her. But her fingers wrapped around her phone and she pulled it out, once again glaring at the image and feeling her blood boil even as her heart felt cold.

She quickly slipped it back in her pocket when she heard Gideon return. "Ready," the boy said, appearing beside her and wearing the backpack holding his neatly folded suit, dress shoes and what she'd requested he bring yesterday. He glanced at her, catching the look on her face and wondered if he'd had that same expression when he'd been rejected by Mabel and fearing his had been even worse. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he gently asked her. "There's still time to turn back. We can enjoy the arcade for real. Maybe do it some other time?"

Pacifica closed her eyes, wishing she was strong enough to take his advice. But the kiss was seared into the back of her eyelids too and her fists clenched. "I have to know, Gideon," she whispered, feeling too much like the old Pacifica to deserve someone looking out for her. "You don't have to come with me. You didn't even have to come this far. You can turn back now if you want - no hard feelings."

Gideon reached up and put a hand on her arm. "Us former-antagonists need to stick together," he said. "And besides, what are friends for?"

She smiled, a sad yet grateful smile despite her guilt. "Come on," she told him, taking the backpack from him so he wouldn't be burdened further. "The sooner we get this over with, the better."

And together they walked into the woods, both knowing they shouldn't but doing it anyway for the sake of love and friendship, as noble and selfish as that was.