Day 8:

"I thought we told you to organize the office, not tear it to pieces!" Ford scolded the minute he saw Dipper and Pacifica seated on their desks, sorting through piles of paperwork.

"In order for us to get organize we have to know what we're working with," Dipper explained. "Which means emptying the filing cabinets right?"

"You could have done it one drawer at a time, you know that, right?"

Pacifica and Dipper exchanged glances before Dipper began scratching at the back of his neck. "Yeah, that probably would have worked better."

"Heh. Kids, am I right?" Stan elbowed Ford in the shoulder. "Now, just 'scuse me while I step over y'all and put these diadems in the safe."

"Don't drop them, Stanley! We don't know what they'll do if-"

"Yeah, yeah," Stan waved his brother off as he punched in the code to open the safe and tossed the diadems inside. They caused a small, green explosion that burst into Stan's face. He froze and began wildly looking about the room.

"Um, Grunkle Stan?"

"Bock, bock, bock! Ca-CAW!" Stand began waving his arms around wildly and running about the room.

"Chicken brain?!" Pacifica shouted as she jumped out of his way. "That's new!"

"Actually it's not," Dipper sighed, seeming totally unfazed by his great uncle brain scramble.

"I'll start brewing the potion, you two get him under control," Ford sighed as he slumped off.

Dipper closed the safe and then took off his t-shirt to throw over Stan's head. Stan ducked out of the way, though, causing Dipper to trip over a stack of papers and into the floor.

"Oh! Babe are you okay?" Pacifica asked as Stan waddled out of the office.

"I'm fine, get him before he falls overboard!" Dipper answered.

Pacifica ran out of office to chase after her great-uncle-in-law. Stan waddled about the deck, clucking and waving his arms like wings.

"Erm...Grunkle Stan...how you doing?"

"CA-CAW!" Stan began running towards the railing of the ship.

"No!" Pacifica called, grabbing his arms and dragging him away. "No, let's not jump off the deck, let's just go back in the office and have a seat."

"Bock. Bock. Bock. Ba-gawk!"

Stan began banging his head against the living room wall, as if he were pecking at it.

"No. No. That's not food, Grunkle Stan, come on." Pacifica tried to pull him towards the office, but he was fascinated by the pattern of the wall paper.

"Grunkle Stan, c'mon! Dipper, I can't get him to move!"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," Dipper called. He ran out of the office, his t-shirt still in his hands. He threw the shirt over Stan's head, and he immediately stopped pecking as squatted down into the floor.

"Um...okay?" Pacifica arched an eyebrow.

"For some reason that keeps him calm," Dipper explained with a shrug. "Beats me why. Found out third time this happened in-"

Pacifica was no longer listening. She was distracted by her shirtless husband. He didn't have a six-pack like bodybuilders or movie stars did. There was definitely muscle there, though. Lean muscle that hypnotically rose and fell with each breath he took.

"Hey!" Dipper set a hand under Pacifica's chin and tilted her face up towards his. "My eyes are up here, lady!"

"Sorry if I can't help myself," Pacifica twirled her hair, playfully playing innocent. "You are irresistible."

"Well, thank you. But I'm more than a pretty face."

Pacifica giggled at him. "I know, but I still like to look at you."

"Oh, do you?" Dipper arched an eyebrow in a flirty manner.

"I mean, I did marry you, didn't I?"

"For more than my looks I'd hope."

"Yes, but the fact you're sexy helps."

"Me? Sexy?" Dipper took a step back. "You sure you're feeling well, Pacifica? You're starting to scare me."

"Stop it," Pacifica playfully poked him in the chest. "You know you're attractive."

"Not as attractive as you're making me out to be."

"So you admit you're attractive," Pacifica place her palm against his bare chest. Dipper rolled his eyes as he set his hand over hers.

"What are you trying to do, Princess?"

"You know what I'm trying to do."

"Yes, and you've had a whole week of me to yourself and you chose to go through paperwork."

Pacifica gasped as she playfully smacked him in the arm. "No fair throwing that back at me! I was just trying to do my job!"

"Uh-huh, sure," Dipper put his arms around her and pulled her towards him. "And I'll do mine, you can be sure of that."

"Please, all you've done is complain about Ford and Stan getting to spend time studying the diadems while you were stuck doing office work."

"I wasn't talking about doing my job as a paranormal investigator."

"Then what were you talking about?"

"I was talking about doing my job as a husband."

"Oh?" Pacifica's eyebrows raised in excitement.

"Mm-hmm," Dipper leaned his forehead against hers.

"You'd think the two of you would have gotten that out of your system after spending a week alone," Ford muttered as he walked into the living room with a potion in hand. He jerked the t-shirt off of Stan's head, tilted his head back, and poured the potion down his throat. Dipper and Pacifica blushed at Ford calling them out. The old scientist shook his head at the whole scenario: his brother getting chicken brain...again! His great nephew and wife getting too distracted by each other to get any work done.

"Well, if you two must you must. I'll be sitting up here babysitting Stanley until the potion takes effect, so go ahead, take advantage of it, and then get back up here and help me clean up the mess you guys made in the office."

"In our defense, we got one file cabinet organized that way," Dipper pointed back.

"And we have three more to go through!"

"Did you really think we'd get through them all in a week."

"No, but I was hopeful. Now go get it all out of your system so you can actually be productive."