A few days passed uneventfully, and though Pacifica was an occasional nuisance, the week went by more or less smoothly. And now it was Sunday, traditionally the Shack's day off, and these days for good reason; the tourists still weren't coming like they used to. Hell, the year before those suckers were practically beating the doors down trying to get any slice of supernatural stupidity into their lives. Inexplicable disasters and strange phenomena had a way of pulling in those losers. But as Stan stood on his porch, eyeballing the empty road well into the morning, he had to admit it.
"We're dead again today." He sighed balefully as he plucked off his eye patch. "Jeez, if this keeps up I won't make squat all summer. Damn heat. That's the problem right there."
The screen door creaked angrily as he pulled it open, snapping back shut with a crack that rattled through the whole house. His hat and cane he threw onto the counter before running his hand through the sweaty hair on the back of his neck, and with one last backward glance down the road, Stan swung the door shut, locked up, and flipped the sign to closed. He hated working Sundays, anyway.
His suit was bogging him down heavily in the muggy storefront, he found. Tugging at the neck to loosen its stranglehold only offered slight relief; beating the heat would require a change of scenery, he decided.
"Hey kids!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, though apparently only for his own benefit, as there was no response. "Kids! Calling all leeches!"
Nothing. Not a creaky floorboard or a hushed giggle. Stomping about in his frustration, Stan threw open the break room door, expecting at least to find Dipper and Pacifica in some hormone fueled state. But no, just Soos, snoring happily on the couch. The living room? Nothing. Nor the bathroom, the front porch, the upper rooms, the attic. The window was cracked, but the twins weren't there.
"The heck is goin' on?"
Stan returned downstairs, scratching his head as he stood in the hallway, trying with all his might to solve the riddle of the missing, obnoxious teenagers. His train of thought derailed as Pacifica walked past him, pardoning herself as she strolled through on her way to the front door. She opened it wordlessly, and to Stan's shock a young, brunette woman and a slightly older gentleman with a well-kept moustache were standing just outside. They both sported full to the brim, designer overnight bags with the initials P. N. monogrammed on their beige exteriors in vibrant gold stitching.
"Thank you Herbert, thank you Emily."
"Of course, young miss." The manservant answered.
"If you need anything more, ma'am, don't hesitate." The young woman apparently called Emily added.
"Please keep this visit between us." Pacifica said coolly as she dropped the bags on the floor, turning back to regard the Northwest staff.
"Of course, Miss Northwest." Herbert replied, shifting his thin sunglasses and nodding. "Anything else before we leave?"
"No, Herbert. Thank you both for bringing my overnights."
The butler and housekeeper bowed and curtsied, respectively, before departing. Looking out the door after them, Stan watched the pair return to a luxury Bentley that the Northwest servants, apparently, used for their tasks about town.
"What was that about?" Stan asked with a frown.
"I'm out of clothes." Pacifica answered calmly, closing the door and hoisting one bag over her shoulder. The 'heavy' burden caused her to wobble slightly on her dainty frame, to which Stan rolled his eyes and lifted the other bag with ease. Pacifica continued. "I had Herbert and Emily pack some of my essentials and bring them out here while they handled some of the daily chores. You know, like fetching mother another jar of imported cocktail olives."
She hissed out that last part, a drop of venom Stan didn't miss, and actually took a moment to laugh about.
"Wait, so your butler knows you're here?"
"Yeah."
"Aren't you worried he'll roll over on ya'? Your parents are the ones signing the checks, after all."
"He won't do it unless they ask. And Herbert never does anything suspicious."
Back in the attic, Stan tossed the bag on the floor, heedless of whatever hoity-toity contents may lie within waiting to be shattered. Though Pacifica snapped to look at the bag as it hit the wood with a hearty thud, she only sighed before gingerly lowering her load on the bed.
"So that's what you've been up to, I guess." Stan said with a sigh. "But where are Dipper and Mabel?"
"Oh, right."
Pacifica strolled to the window, which had been cracked when Stan visited earlier, but now was wide open. A little ashamed that he hadn't thought about that, he watched as she tilted her head out the window and yelled up to the top of the shack.
"Hey, your uncle is looking for you!"
A few minutes later, the twins were clambering through the attic window, dusting off their clothes and wiping sweat from their brows. Apparently they were all just passing the time on the roof, and Pacifica only came down when she saw her servants arrive. Mabel gasped as she spied Pacifica's luggage.
"Oh my gosh! Is that a Fairchild Baldwin!? Lucky!"
"Or rich." Dipper added with a chuckle while Mabel fawned over the stitching and leather work of the probably thousand dollar bags. Pacifica only rolled her eyes before plopping the second of the bags on the bed, opening it with smooth expertise and carefully removing pieces of masterfully packed clothing.
"Anyway." Stan interjected, bored with the current affairs. "I'm closing up shop early again. S'go to the pool, it's a nice day."
"Woo! Pool!" Mabel shrieked.
Pacifica spoke with a smile while she unpacked. "Good thing I asked for my beach wear."
"Girls are changing in here now! Get out, pervy men!"
Mabel shoved Dipper and Stan forcefully as she shouted, ejecting them from the room and slamming the door behind them. Stan only shrugged and descended to the second floor, leaving the boy to stand alone at the threshold for a moment to wonder what sort of swimsuit Pacifica would be wearing. He blushed and strolled down the stairs with a dizzy head full of daydreams.
After the guys' expulsion, Mabel shook her fists with a giggle and sped to the closet where her swimsuits were hanging at the ready. When she opened the door, it revealed that in her ownership were two one-pieces, the pink one she wore earlier that week, and a cutesier white one decorated with tiny pink bows. She took the latter from its hanger, immediately setting to changing while Pacifica kept up her slow-paced unpacking. When she hit pay dirt, she smiled and clapped her hands together.
"There we are." She beamed in satisfaction, pulling a soft, white cotton cover up from the bag and unfolding it with a flick of her wrists. It was a light airy thing, designed to feel like you were practically wearing nothing at all. "Melissa Odabash. I got this in March… I had planned to wear it to Fiji in August."
Mabel paused and watched Pacifica lay the cover up down across the bed before digging back into the bag from which the pricey shirt came. Looking across her own clothing was suddenly a chore, so Mabel thought it better to ignore the feeling and continue changing, though her excitement was blunted a bit.
"Aww, these aren't the ones I asked for…" Pacifica muttered without thinking, lifting a pair of grey Chanel satin sandals from the folds. Mabel only glanced at the shoes, but immediately knew the last thing she'd say was 'these aren't the ones'. She heard Pacifica set them gently on the floor, turning to see her draw another, equally rich, equally cute pair of sandals from the bag.
"For crying out loud." Mabel said at last, her frustration more than a little piqued. "How much did you have them bring? We're just going to the pool!"
"Nothing wrong with having plenty of options, Mabel." She answered defensively. "No reason to shout, I'm just picking out my outfit."
In short order, Pacifica pulled from her expensive luggage a sun hat with gold trim and a shimmering lavender ribbon, two pair of high end sunglasses, and a second, lacey, cream colored cover up. All were laid out onto the bed over Pacifica's seemingly endless array of expertly packed designer clothes. Mabel couldn't help but feel self-conscious… and then Pacifica held up her swimsuit, or rather, the top of it.
"Found you!" She said with a giggle.
Mabel watched numbly now, staring as Pacifica disrobed and carefully slid her two piece over her body. Her eyes drifted from her old rival to the spread on the bed, then back to her side of the room. With a sigh, Mabel finished changing into her suit; she used to like this suit, the pink bows feeling especially cute and unique to her style. Pulling a baggy shirt over her head, she sat on the bed with a huff, thinking a moment about how certain people were happy after a lifetime of advantages, and certain people were quite the opposite.
Pacifica stood in front of the mirror, finishing the process of putting her look together, and couldn't help but smile in approval of the sight. This is the one swimsuit she absolutely loved. Returning to the bed and picking up the white cover up, Pacifica paused and glanced at Mabel, noting she was sitting and watching her in a defensive stance.
"Something wrong?"
"Nah, nothing." Mabel said, glancing at the mirror before drawing her knees up to her beat up t-shirt.
Pacifica looked her over, followed her eyes to the mirror where she stood just moments ago, then back at Mabel. She soon smiled in understanding.
"Ugh. Stop moping and come over here."
· · ·
· · ·
The pool bustled with activity despite the hundred degree weather, children and adults alike running hastily across the blistering hot concrete around the shining rectangle of water despite the loud shouts and whistle blasts of the pool's resident lunatic, Pool Check. Dipper grimaced at the sound of his voice as they entered the grounds.
"Ugh, what? Pool Check's still here?"
"Heh, I know, right?" Soos offered as he threw his towel over a chair. "Dude, I don't think he's gonna', like, die. He's been the same for years."
"Weird… wait. Is that…?"
"Huh, oh yeah. Tambry's the lifeguard."
Truer words were never spoken; she was perched in the lifeguard tower, staring down on merrymaking little people with the purest expression of boredom that could ever be made. She kept the whistle nested in her pouting lips and broke her vigil once every ten seconds to glance at her phone wrapped in its tough, waterproof case.
"Huh… guess Tambry stayed in Gravity Falls." Dipper said as he tossed his hat and towel to the chair.
"Yep. Ohh, dude, ladies ahoy!"
Dipper followed his eyes, and indeed there they were. Mabel and Pacifica strolled casually through the gate, chatting and laughing as though there never strife between them. Pacifica seemed comfortable being dressed to kill, the Egyptian cotton cover up clinging to her body from shoulder to thigh, the luxurious sun hat crowning her head, her eyes covered by a pair of black and gold sunglasses that were probably Gucci or something of the sort. What was different was Mabel: her swimsuit was her own, but it was blanketed nicely by the lace cream cover up, and her hair looked done up in jewelry that Dipper knew she'd never owned. Pacifica must've dressed his sister up for the day in the sun.
"Hey bro-bro." Mabel said as she walked by, waving her hand gracefully.
He laughed, not in mockery but to share in his sister's silliness and mirth, and as Pacifica walked past, she shot him a glance and a smile that made him swell with pride. As Mabel kicked her sandals and stretched her arms wide, Pacifica only smirked and pulled off her hat, shaking her hair as she tossed the hat aside. Next to go was the cover up, and the reveal shot electricity through Dipper from head to toe. Hiding beneath that white cotton shawl was a shimmering, lavender two piece: a tight, laced up bandeau hugging her chest, and a frilled, short skirted bottom that danced whenever she moved. The top and bottom both bore her monogram in silver thread.
"Dude, dude." Soos said with a chuckle as he gave Dipper a hearty slap on the back. "Nice."
· · ·
· · ·
He stared through his tinted window, watching the activity at the public pool with equal parts interest and disgust. The rabble… how they upset his senses as they scrambled to and fro. And to think this is where his daughter was.
"Vermin." Preston Northwest muttered as he peered through the glass. "Vermin one and all of you."
There she was; throwing her cover up aside, with her shame, swaying her body about for that filthy peasant of a boy. Pines… how he hated that name. That whole family! Grinding his teeth until the sound filled the back seat of the car, Preston's disdain began to get the better of him.
"Please relax, Preston." His companion said, patting his balled up fist in a bid to comfort him. She fished in the icebox that they kept in the luxury Bentley, drawing out a glass and some ice. The woman poured a small amount of scotch into the glass, handing it to him to calm his nerves. "Please, drink."
Preston took the glass, and still staring out at the sight of his loathing, sipped the alcohol bit by bit, not taking his gaze away from the sight of his daughter's dalliance with that boy. In short order, the glass held nothing but ice, though the young woman accompanying him was quick to refresh it
"I've been right to trust you with our secrets, Emily. You did well to inform me of this." He whispered between sips of scotch. "I had my suspicions Pacifica was up to something like this… but with the Pines boy? Hmph. The thought of him even looking at her from across a room…"
"I know, Preston." Emily said in soothing tones, stroking his cheek gently. She didn't manage to distract him from the pressing matter, which made her frown. "Aww, don't let it drive you crazy. That's my job."
"Now's not the time."
He never let anyone ruin him. Never. And a fifteen year old boy and his hormones wouldn't be his unmaking. Not now. Not ever. Swirling the ice and alcohol in his glass, Preston thought hard, bitter thoughts, dark and inspired things. He knew one trick that would certainly be worth it.
"First thing's first. Call Blubs. I want him to pick her up the second she leaves the pool grounds." Preston set his glass aside and leaned forward, sliding the privacy window open to address his driver. "We're done here. Home, immediately."
The Bentley, a black, conspicuous thing parked on the street opposite the pool, shifted into gear and slipped out of view. Neither Pacifica nor Dipper were any the wiser.
· · ·
· · ·
Near the end of the visit, as things were winding down, Dipper and Pacifica had slipped away from the pool. He hadn't spent a single moment not watching her sway her hips whenever she walked, stared incessantly every time she'd surface from under the water and press her hair back, and any time he was close enough, Pacifica would feel him run a hand over her body. Seems like her swimsuit was getting the better of him, especially when she 'accidentally' bumped him back while they swam and noticed he was at full attention. Naughty boy.
Having snuck off to a supply shed and hidden themselves inside, Dipper had Pacifica pinned to the wall while they desperately kissed and ran their hands over each other. Dipper moved his lips from hers to her collarbone, kissing and licking her skin delicately as his fingers ran along the hem of her bottom.
"So," Pacifica managed between gasps. "I take it you like my two-piece?"
He only growled in affirmation, choosing to suckle on her neck rather than speak. Not that she didn't like it, choosing to chuckle and wrap one leg around his hips to pull him close. Dipper responded by pressing his hips into hers, knocking her body against the sheet metal wall. The structure shook a little, rattling the frames and causing a ruckus.
"Jeez, Dipper." She said sternly, pulling his face to hers again. "Settle down. Get too rough, and—"
BANG BANG BANG
Three bangs on the door, the hard bash of a solid object instead of a fist rattling the sheet metal. The charged teenagers jumped in unison, Dipper turning his head around to look at the entrance while Pacifica peered over his shoulder. Neither moved a muscle in the split seconds that followed but felt like a thousand years to pained silence.
"I know you're in there." Came the surly, familiar voice of the town's enforcer, Sheriff Blubs. "Best just cut to the chase and come out!"
"Are you kidding me?" Dipper complained almost silently. "He's still here?"
When he looked back at Pacifica, he saw her face going pale as death, her body shaking in his embrace as if the only thing that could be outside was the Multibear. Her fear made her dig her fingernails into his shoulders, tug him as close as possible, and break out in a cold sweat. Her fear told Dipper to be afraid too, all in the span of three seconds.
"Don't make me break this door down! Town pool don't gotta' pay good money just 'cause you wanna' be indecent!"
He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow; this could only be for one thing. Opening them again to see Pacifica crying, Dipper sighed, but forced a smile, kissing her on the cheek before silently mouthing "it'll be okay." They broke their embrace, Dipper carefully adjusting his swimsuit so as to make sure no further embarrassment would befall the couple, before taking Pacifica by the hand and guiding her to the door, pausing to wipe her tears and kiss her forehead. They opened the door together.
It wasn't okay.
"Hands off, Pines." Blubs shouted with as much poorly placed authority as he could muster, shoving Dipper hard in the chest. "Pacifica Northwest, you're coming with us. You've been registered as a missing person, and we're taking you home."
"What?" Dipper and Pacifica said in unison as she was taken by the wrist and guided out of the shed.
Dipper's attempt at pursuit was cut short when a pair of hands held him by his shoulders; he never looked at the faceless officer, clearly not just Blubs' inept cohort Durland, instead keeping his eyes glued to Pacifica as he tried in vain to dig his feet into the tough ground and get any traction he could. For his efforts, he was rewarded with a nightstick to the gut, leaving him stunned and doubled over in pain.
"Gah! Wait!" He whispered despite an attempt to shout. "Pacifica!"
"Let me go, you idiot! Let me go! Dipper!"
She seemed so far away. Opening his eyes to scan the scene, peering through a thin veil of tears and fighting his jolted diaphragm, Dipper tried to stand, failing once or twice, before limping back to the pool. It was the hardest fifty yards of his life. When he got to the fence, he managed to see two cop cars pulling away from the parking lot, no lights, no sirens. He knew where at least one had to be going.
· · ·
· · ·
It would all be for the best. That's what he told himself, that's what he told Pacifica, that's what he told everyone. He stared at the fireplace, a toasty, aromatic flame held in its confines despite the industrial strength air conditioning being pumped into every room of the house. Surrounded by the trappings of his study, Preston reflected on what he deemed important to him, and why he knew he had to remind his only heir, as of yet, that those things were important to her too.
And what was important, it seemed, was separating the Northwest family from the tripe of Gravity Falls. The world wasn't what it used to be; his name could stay here, for the purpose of money and money alone, but they could live wherever they wanted now thanks to the peasants that toiled for him and the network of computers that kept them enthralled. Yes. It was time for them to go.
"Mr. Northwest, we have her packed and ready."
"Excellent work, Emily." Preston said dryly, turning away from the fireplace with a glance to his watch. Five-thirty. How the day did pass, he thought. Looking up at his housekeeper, Preston frowned upon seeing a large welt on her face. "What happened to your cheek, dear girl?"
"Your daughter is a bit upset, I'm afraid." Emily responded coolly, touching the incendiary blemish with a mean-spirited look in her eye. "Seems she thinks I'm a traitor, sir. You'll be doing the right thing, I think, putting her into the academy."
"I think so too. Make sure she's on the way immediately." He turned to look out the broad window, seeing the town down below. Vermin… they needed to know their place. "Also, Emily… has my wife retired for the evening?"
"Yes sir," she said with a sly grin. "She's already medicated herself, laid down to rest. Seems Mrs. Northwest didn't want to bother with your daughter's insubordination."
"Very well." Preston smirked, though it faded as he spied movement in the courtyard. "See Pacifica off then, Emily. Then meet me in the guest bedroom as per usual."
Outside, scrambling, forcing his way along after the hardest run he had ever taken upon himself, Dipper Pines jogged through the open gate onto Northwest grounds. His gasping, heat-flushed body was screaming at him to stop, had been for the last mile and a half. But he didn't relent in his run until he was at the door, slamming his fists tiredly on the oaken surface.
"Northwest!" He shouted despite his burned out lungs. "Northwest, you open the door and look me in the eye!"
He beat the door like a drum, blow after blow of his fists against the solid structure barely echoing into the hall behind. After a minute of this thrashing, the door swung open. Dipper looked up thinking he'd see Preston Northwest, but when he only saw a manservant, confused and a little concerned, Dipper let his exhaustion catch up to him for a moment, bending his legs and propping his arms on his knees.
"Where is she?"
"Pardon me, Master Pines, but what is your busi—?"
"Where is she!?" Dipper blasted with renewed vigor, through still labored breath though.
"Sir, I'm afraid—"
"I'll handle this, Herbert." Preston's voice carried down the hall as he walked, feet clicking against the floor as he calmly strolled toward the door. "After all, you have business to attend to in your quarters. Packing your things."
"Of course, Mr. Northwest." The former manservant answered quietly, masking any emotion he felt. When he looked into Dipper's eyes, though, the boy could see some combination of fury and anguish before he excused himself. "Good day, Master Pines."
As Herbert left him there, Preston filled the gap.
"Welcome back to my home, boy." The glowering captain of industry said in a low tone. "Who would have thought that you'd ever see it again? Not me, certainly."
"Where is she!?" Dipper shouted, trying to look past the obstruction, trying to slip in.
"That's no longer your concern!" Preston shoved him back hard, nearly sending him tumbling down the steps. "Suffice to say that today was your last together. Enjoy what memories of my daughter you have, you rotten little grub!"
"You dirty son of a—!"
"Take another step," Preston said with a wag of his finger. "And I'll have you in cuffs. You weren't invited onto the grounds. I have cause for your arrest. I could shoot you now for trespassing if I so chose."
Undaunted, Dipper merely glared at the pompous man as he carried on.
"What are you planning?"
"Pacifica will be attending… Well, you don't really need to know the name. But the academy she'll be going to will have much less of the trash that she has been forced to interact with. It may take some time to repair the damage you've caused, but if nothing else, I will have back a daughter I can be proud of."
The growl of an engine was audible somewhere, starting low and growing in pitch and volume very quickly. From behind the mansion emerged a helicopter, clearly either Preston's personal or business helicopter, ascending slowly until it hovered over the roof. Starting a slow circle, the aircraft drew itself higher and higher until it arced off to the west.
"Pacifica!" Dipper shouted in vain, being rewarded only by the vanishing noise of the helicopter. He turned back to Preston, blistering venom in his eyes. "This isn't the end of this!"
And with that, Dipper Pines stomped off, leaving the grounds the way he came. Once he was out of sight of the mansion, he broke into a sprint, or as much of one as his drained muscles could manage. Preston, contrarily, calmly closed the door and returned to his study. The fire crackled, the clock ticked, and though his demeanor was collected, he could also hear his heartbeat. He trusted Dipper at his word, after all. It wouldn't end here, if the boy didn't want it to.
"I gave him his chance." Preston convinced himself as plucked his pocket watch from its resting place on the mantle, also picking up a letter opener that sat beside it. "He made his choice. Now it's my turn again."
Fiddling with the watch, a Northwest heirloom, Preston removed the back plate, dropping the master crafted, golden contraption carelessly to the floor. Reversing the back plate revealed its concave surface, a small circle of metal that contained within it an even smaller circle made of arcane symbols arrayed around a pyramid with an eye in center. Preston stabbed his finger to bleeding and smeared a drop of blood into the engravings. They glowed with a sickly yellow light.