Hope y'all had a good winter solstice yesterday.

"Grunkle Stan, we want different rooms!" Dipper demanded as he stormed into the living room, Mabel at his heels.

The old man scoffed. "And I want a pair of magic money pants. It's not gonna happen."

"Magic money pants…?" Mabel asked, bemused.

"You don't understand!" Dipper growled in frustration. He was going to make sure Stan listened to him for once! "Mabel and her friends totally wrecked our room-including our entire minigolf course! I spent so much time perfecting that replica of the Eiffel Tower!"

Mabel rounded on him. "Hey, it's not like we meant to break it! It was an accident! Besides, you can always build another one, can't you?"

"That's not the point!" Dipper snapped. "Agh, it's-it's like you don't care about anyone else's feelings but yourself!"

Things would probably have devolved even further into incoherent bickering-except that suddenly a large hand grabbed each of their shoulders and shoved them apart.

"Both of you go to opposite sides of the house and cool off!" Stan ordered.

"But-" Mabel started.

"NOW!"

It was the first time in their entire vacation that Stan had exhibited anything in the realm of traditional parenting techniques. The twins were immediately silenced, and fled the room to different areas of the house; Dipper to the front porch, and Mabel to the kitchen, where she moodily poured herself a glass of Mabel Juice.

Neither of them saw Stan sit heavily back down in the armchair and take a few deep breaths. Or the way his fists clenched themselves so tight that when he finally relaxed them, there were red crescents in the palms of his hands.

After about an hour, Stan went and found Mabel in the kitchen. She had finished her juice, and was now grumpily stuffing handfuls of candy into her mouth as she moped at the table.

Stan quietly pulled out a chair and sat down across from her.

"Tell me what happened."

She looked surprised, but finally said, "Well, me and my friends had a pretty crazy sleepover last night, and maybe we got a little outta control, but Dipper is totally being over dramatic about it! He's always overly dramatic! And he's got no right to complain about my sleepovers when he keeps me awake all the time doing his summer reading and muttering about who stole the diamond or whatever while clicking his stupid pen!" She mimed holding a pen, and did an impression of the excited noises Dipper kept making while reading his mystery novels. "Ooh, whoa, what happens next!"

For once, Stan didn't laugh at her imitation of her brother. "Did you girls get into his stuff like he said?"

She looked down, a few spots of color appearing in her cheeks. "...Well, maybe. But we didn't mean to! Grenda was just messing around!"

"I'm sure you didn't, sweetie. But would you like it if he accidentally, I dunno, ripped up one of your stuffed animals or something while doing one of his weird nerd experiments?"

Mabel flinched, and finally admitted, "No, I guess not."

Stan ruffled her hair. Then he stood up. "Hold on a sec while I go talk ta your brother."

He found Dipper sitting on the porch's couch, moodily staring at a book lying open on his lap; when he realized Stan was there he quickly closed it and shoved it into his vest.

Stan sat down on the other side of the couch. "What's your take, kid?"

Dipper folded his arms sulkily. "What, you're not gonna just take Mabel's side like usual?"

As soon as he said it he flinched, waiting for Stan to make some kind of snide comment about him being overly sensitive or whatever.

But Stan didn't say anything. He just sat and waited, hands folded in his lap, until Dipper sighed and whispered, "Mabel's just...getting kind of frustrating to live with right now."

"Cuz she and her friends keep tryna break the sound barrier every night?"

That finally got a small smile out of him. "Yeah." But then the frown returned. "And they keep trashing our room. It's like she doesn't even care that they broke our golf course! Or that I had to go outside just to try and escape all the noise, and I think I might need a rabies shot because I got attacked by a wolf!"

Stan raised his eyebrows. "Did it draw blood?"

"Well-no, but-"

"Then you're fine."

Before Dipper could argue the logic behind that statement, Stan said, "Your sister says that you're always keeping her awake with your late-night reading."

The boy flushed. "I didn't think I was being loud! I'm not trying to be! And that doesn't give her the right to keep me up-"

Stan held up a calming hand. "Not saying that. Just goin' with the facts here."

For a moment he sat lost in thought. Finally he said, "All right, c'mon."

He half-lifted Dipper by the shoulder, and towed him inside; then he collected Mabel from the kitchen, and brought them both to the living room, having them sit down side by side in the armchair.

Stan stood in front of them, arms folded.

"Okay, here's what we're gonna do from now on. Dipper, you gotta either learn ta read more quietly or do it in the living room so Mabel can get some sleep."

Dipper almost objected...before reluctantly admitting that it wasn't an unreasonable request.

"And Mabel-" Stan looked at her- "If you and your weird friends can't be more careful with keepin' the attic clean and not wakin' up everyone else you gotta take the sleepovers to another house. Capisce?"

She sighed, and nodded reluctantly. "Kay."

"Good. I'm old, I need whatever beauty sleep I can still get."

Since it seemed like the conversation was concluded, the kids both started to hop out of the chair.

"Hold it!" Stan barked, making them freeze in place. "Is there something you wanna say to each other?"

Dipper and Mabel looked at each other sheepishly, before both of them sighed.

"...I'm sorry about the golf course, Dipper," Mabel said, tugging a strand of her hair. "If you want I'll cancel tonight's sleepover so we can fix it together."

"Thanks." Dipper smiled. "Sorry I got so hung up over it."

"I'm surprised you weren't more relieved that I had to stop kicking your butt at it!"

Dipper punched her playfully in the shoulder, and they spent a minute laughing and shoving each other.

Neither of them noticed how shiny Stan's eyes were for a second, before he gruffly cleared his throat and headed for the kitchen to make lunch.

Things were a little more peaceful in the Mystery Shack, at least for the day.

Not that either kid was complaining, exactly, but they were surprised that Stan had put so much effort into fixing things between them.

After all, it was just a stupid fight.