Mabel wanted to wipe the smile off his face with a sharp backhand. That annoying, sly, all-too-innocent face he wore at her only made her frown deepen.
"You're joking. This is a bad joke and any moment now you're gonna shout 'Psych!' and laugh in my face," Mabel stated resolutely.
"Nope. I mean it." His smile didn't falter.
"Even you can't be insane enough to think that I'd buy you saying 'Let's be friends!'" It was honestly very insulting.
"Maybe not, but I don't care to mince words… right now. That is what we'd essentially be doing, wouldn't we?" Bill leaned on his cane as he acted as if he were pointing out the obvious.
"Run that by me again?" Mabel sighed and began to bend her knees to sit down on the floor, but instead fell back onto a sofa she knew hadn't been there a moment ago.
Bill tsked and walked over to sit beside Mabel who immediately scooched over to reclaim the distance between them.
"Like I said, make a deal with me." He threw his legs up in the air, crossing them before they fell back down onto a stool that materialized before him. "You said you wanted to understand me. And while I buy that you can do that as much as I buy that the Titanic sinking was an "accident"-" He paused then and met her eyes, whispering with a conspiratory tone. "Hint hint. It was me." He pointed at himself smugly with a proud gleam in his eye.
Mabel balked and then leaned her face into her hand, muttering, "I should have figured."
"Anyway," Bill brightly brought them back to the subject at hand. "While I have absolutely no faith in you, I'm willing to offer you the opportunity to try," he finished. "To understand me. Not sink the Titanic," he clarified. "That ship has already sailed… and sunk. Wanna see the pictures?" A photo album suddenly appeared in his hand. "You like scrapbooks, right? Here's me looking for the right iceberg and here's me with the frozen body of the captain-"
"Moving on!" Mabel interrupted and dragged her hand from her face. "In this deal I'd get to try and understand you," she began and crossed her arms with a suspicious look. "And all I'd have to do is-?"
"Visit me…" Bill trailed and looked up as if trying to decide how to continue. "Every now and again." He concluded, shrugging carelessly and threw the scrapbook behind him which caused a loud crash. Mabel didn't look back to see what it had crashed into.
"And that's it?" Mabel asked.
"Yep."
"No strings attached?"
"Unless you want some."
"We'd just sit and talk?"
"Well, if you wanna make the visits boring as a Stanford." Bill scowled.
"What are you playing at?" Mabel narrowed her eyes at him.
"What can I say?" Bill sighed, sinking further into the couch with his arms crossed. "Being stuck in my body for thirteen years… it felt like damn near forever." His one visible eye shut. "There was no one around and I was completely isolated. I could make anything I wanted like a god, but after a while it just got… boring." Mabel had never heard his tone so quiet and solemn before. In fact, she'd been convinced his only volume was mild yelling up until this moment.
"Everything was bland. I knew what every one of my creations would do… and in the end I guess I got the party I've always wanted, but it just felt so empty. I had no one to share it with. I had no one to care about me or what happened to me. It was… cold."
Bill then opened his eye and turned his wistful gaze to Mabel. "I told myself that if the head-splitting monotony ever ended that I would change. I know I didn't seem like it earlier, but I was relishing the first contact with anyone and anything I've had in a long time. It felt good to feel again and I don't want to drive my one chance at it away," he finally finished, his expression neutral as he awaited her response.
Mabel met his gaze, her countenance giving nothing away. He sounded as if he'd had it rough and really understood the error of his ways. And now all he wanted was a second chance.
"Bill?" Her voice was soft.
"Yes, Mabel?" It was odd to hear him use her name for once instead of his nickname for her, Shooting Star.
"Do you really… expect me to believe that?" Mabel asked in utter disbelief, a look of disgust on her face.
Bill feigned a sheepish look. "I was kind of hoping you would, but it was still worth a shot!" Bill was all grins again and before she could react, the demon reached his arm over and pulled her in by the shoulders. "So whaddaya say, Shooting Star? Is it a deal?" With his arm slung over her, he offered his flaming hand to her.
"Not in your wildest dreams, Cipher." Mabel grimaced, trying to pull away from his grasp, but his arm was snaked around her like steel.
"Oh, come on! What do you have to lose?" Bill frowned. How could her discovering his fraudulent sincerity not work?
"Knowing you? Everything." No matter how seemingly innocent of a deal it appeared to be, Mabel didn't have a good feeling about it and was going to trust her gut. Just because she felt some inclination towards allowing the demon to redeem himself didn't mean she was going to give in to every deal he offered her.
Finally letting Mabel go with a huff, Bill crossed his arms. His hand was still on fire and it went on to spread over his entire body, engulfing him in blue flames as he sulked while Mabel reeled back from the blaze.
"I'm starting to see just how much you and Ford are related. One sour deal where I possessed someone-"
"My brother!" Mabel interjected angrily.
"And you don't want anything to do with me!" he exclaimed in bafflement. A rain cloud appeared over his head, water dumping down onto him and putting out the flames.
"Are you sorry for Weirdmageddon?" Mabel asked.
"Not even in your wildest dreams," he'd ensure that, "and definitely not here," the soaked blond answered easily. Even if he lied and said yes, he doubted she'd buy it.
"Then you and your deals can rot until the lizard people take over and the sun explodes!"
Bill frowned. "… If you make a deal with me, I could actually make that happen-"
"No!"
"Well, aren't you a field of radioactive, homicidal daisies?" Bill grumbled sarcastically. "And not the fun ones!" He added with a scowl.
"I try," Mabel said dryly.
The two stared each other down until Bill finally turned away with a disgruntled noise.
"I guess it's fine. Whatever." He folded his arms behind his head casually as Mabel frowned suspiciously at how easily he was giving up. "Because, ya know. Whether or not you make deal with me, in the end I'll still…" Bill paused and gave her a sly, secretive look.
Mabel's eyes narrowed. What could he possibly do to her?
"Be the one who gave you the finger!"
A replica of Bill's statue arm appeared in his hand and he used to it poke at Mabel's cheek and side, laughing. "Ha ha! Get it? Get it, Shooting Star?"
"Does that even work since you have only four fingers?" Mabel deadpanned with annoyance as she tried to block his incessant prodding. He technically didn't even have a middle finger.
"Hm. Maybe not." Bill's pokes ceased as he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "But it does now since I only have three!" His poking began again even faster with his new middle digit and he snickered. "Ha! This is comedy gold."
Mabel growled. "Would you stop!?" She shot to her feet, grabbed the stone limb and chucked it into the grey abyss.
Bill gaped before pinning her with an affronted look. "That was completely uncalled for. You don't see me throwing your detached limbs around the mindscape." He placed his hand over his heart as if wounded. "I expect an apology in the form of a zebra painted all black, a sheet of ice with my image burned on it or your eternal soul."
"Why are you this way, Bill?" Mabel muttered feebly.
"I actually wouldn't mind telling you, but by the time I start explaining, you waking up is going to cut me off-"
Mabel's eyes snapped open, instantly burning against the bright light of the morning sun. Worse yet, she hardly felt rested at all. Mentally, at least.
"Damn dream demons." The young woman turned onto her stomach. She groaned at the sight of the clock and rubbed her tired eyes, apprehensive of falling asleep once more even though she was very tempted to.
A flash of inspiration gave her the solution to that.
"Coffee."
…
To her surprise, Mabel had no trouble staying awake at all. But it wasn't because of coffee.
"Cold cold cold cold cold." She clung to her jean jacket desperately to maintain some warmth as she hurried down the damp sidewalk, teeth chattering lightly.
It had been mild when she had gone outside, spurred on by an impromptu journey for coffee when she had found the tin in the kitchen to be empty. Thinking nothing of the short trip into town, Mabel hadn't even spared the winter coat in the closet a second glance.
She'd thought spring equaled warmth. Oh, how she loathed her naive past self from twenty minutes ago for her current predicament. The temperature had sharply dropped by the time she had gotten into town and, while not bitterly cold in an instant, the length of time she'd spent in it had slowly made the cold sink into her, easily creeping past her flimsy jacket.
Where she had even been graced by a beam of warm sunlight when she had taken the car to drive into town, clouds now blocked the shining ball in the sky from view and wisps of light snow even flew through the air, dusting the sidewalks before melting upon contact with the meager temperatures of the concrete and paved road. It had really hit her how cold it was when she'd stepped out of the safety of her car and the wind picked up, stripping even more heat from her exposed skin. What she wouldn't do for a pair of pants instead of the skirt she'd foolishly worn.
She was sure if Ford or Dipper were there they would have been able to explain the abominable reasoning behind how it was possible for the weather at the Mystery Shack to be perfectly bearable while the weather in town reminded her of the tundra wasteland of Canada where she'd once spent a weekend in a friend's cabin. And why her fingers were turning an alarming shade of purple.
The coffee shop she'd been heading to at least had street parking right in front of it. Too bad all the parking spots were taken up by the crowd that appeared to have been brought in by some special at Greasy's diner, forcing Mabel to park several blocks down and brave the elements to get to the shop.
So no, grogginess no longer threatened to lull her to sleep. A healthy dose of self-preservation from the possibility of being frozen alive was easily keeping her awake and alert.
With the door to the shop in sight, Mabel let out a visible, misty sigh of relief and spring forward on her feet to reach the heated indoors. Flinging the door open, Mabel's eyes went half-lidded in contentment as a rush of warm air washed over her.
They abruptly snapped wide open as her feet slipped forth on the tiled ground. In her haste, she'd failed to notice the yellow sign on the ground or that it was damp from being freshly moped until it was too late. Instinctively, she dug her heels in to skid to a stop, but that maneuver only made her lose her balance. With flailing her arms, her legs spasmed and slid while trying to regain her footing before they gave out when she bent too much of her weight backwards. Snapping her eyes shut with a flinch, Mabel braced for impact.
It didn't hurt quite as much as she thought it would. And it was kind of soft and warm too.
Blinking at the feeling of hands grasping her arms, the brunette noted that she was still upright and that someone had caught her. Without thinking, she pushed herself off of her savior and turned to them, sputtering.
"I-I'm so sorr-ah!" Hitting the slick part of the floor once again, she fell forward, grasping onto the front of the person of her own volition this time before they reached out to catch her once again.
Learning her lesson this time and stilling against them, Mabel panted and took a moment to compose herself just as she heard and felt a light chuckle erupt from the broad chest holding her.
"I've heard of guys who have women fall into their arms, but I didn't think it'd be this easy," the man laughed before coughing as if catching himself. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh. Are you okay, Miss?"
The strong pair of hands steadied Mabel, who ensured that she stood on dry, non-slippery ground before looking up at the stranger.
"Y-Yeah. I was just… in a hurry. Sorry." She laughed nervously, trailing as she met his face.
"It's no problem." His eyes and mouth were all she needed to see to know that he was smiling at her, but Mabel would be lying if she didn't say that the sight was a bit unnerving.
"Do I have something on my face?" He asked when he noticed her blank stare.
"Uh, no. I… just like your ski mask," Mabel uttered bluntly, blinking.
"Thanks. It's pretty cold out there. Well, take care of yourself." With that, the man headed to the counter to go order some coffee, getting a few wary looks for his covered face.
Funny how a six fingered hand hardly deterred her as a child, but a simple ski mask could now give Mabel pause. Maybe because it reminded her of all those throw away bad guys from superhero cartoons when she was little. The words "hands up!" sounded way more appropriate than "take care of yourself" from a figure with a concealed face, but who was she to judge? If she had known how cold it was outside, she might have opted to wear a ski mask herself.
Turning her attention back to her mission, Mabel walked over and scanned the shelves in the shop for coffee beans before settling on one. No one had been awake when she'd gone downstairs, so she'd taken it upon herself to make the errand to supply them with caffeine. However, given the weather, Mabel deemed herself in need of a warm shot herself before she left.
The place wasn't overly crowded, but as she waited, Mabel reached into her jacket for her wallet. By the time she was in front of the register, however, her face had shifted from content to abject disbelief while her heart dropped to her stomach.
"What can I get you, Miss?" The barista behind the counter asked.
Mabel could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears and after a moment, she let out a defeated sigh. "Uh, nothing, I… I still need to think." She forced a polite smile before walking back to the shelf and shoving the bag of coffee beans back onto it.
"Why me?" Mabel murmured miserably as she sunk back down on one of the wooden chairs near the entrance. It wasn't the worst fate to befall her, but her mission was now a complete and utter failure.
Staring at the piece of stone that she'd found in her pocket, it took a fair amount of her will power not to throw it to the ground. Instead, she angrily shoved it into her jeans.
She'd forgotten her wallet.
Yet, she had somehow managed to remember to slip Bill's "gift" into her pocket. Maybe, in some other sort of cosmic way she'd never understand, Bill really did "give her the finger" just like he'd said.
Her trip, her suffering was all for naught. But there was nothing she could do about it now. Maybe she could at least find some tea at home. Even though Stan declared that it tasted like watery grass to him, Ford enjoyed it sometimes even though his preferred drink was coffee.
Helplessly taking a moment to sit down, warm herself and mentally prepare before she'd eventually have to trek back to her car, Mabel checked her phone, finding texts from both Grenda and Candy.
The last she'd heard of Grenda was that things were getting a little complicated with Marius. Though they'd been together for so long, it turned out to be an on and off relationship. His dad liked her, but his mother and Grenda could really butt heads at times. That wasn't even the only problem though, because, as of late, the baritone-voiced brunette had been complaining about how clingy and jealous the Austrian prince could get and had been taking some time away by herself. But surely enough, Grenda was now telling Mabel that they were back together and coming as a couple for the wedding.
Compared to Grenda's stable-ish relationship and Mabel's endless dating failures, Candy hadn't been quite so interested in the dating scene and had instead thrown herself into her work as an engineer. If anything, she was more interested in creating a boyfriend than finding one, but that was just her side project that was still in the works. The soft spoken Korean girl was highly sought out for her skill in robotics and companies begged her to come work for them.
Both her and Grenda had long since left Gravity Falls, so they had to travel back to their hometown, but they were set to arrive fairly soon. Grenda would no doubt be arriving on Marius' yacht and Candy was probably flying first class.
Glancing out of the window behind her and cringing visibly, Mabel suppressed a groan as she got ready to leave. The sound of rustling paper caused her head to snap back to the table in front of her where a brown paper bag and a cup of steaming coffee sat.
"Uh, excuse me!" Mabel quickly got over her shock to call to the employee that had turned on their heel to leave the moment they had set down the items.
"Yes, Miss?" spoke the same barista from the front register.
"What is this?" Mabel pointed to the coffee and bag in confusion like she'd never seen such objects before in her life.
"Your coffee," he replied, giving her an odd but not impatient look.
"But I didn't buy anything." She glanced into the paper bag and found the coffee beans that she had taken and returned to the shelf earlier.
"Oh!" The man's face lit up in realization. "Your friend told me to give it you. He just left. Said he was in a hurry, so he couldn't say goodbye," he explained with a smile before heading to the back before Mabel could reply.
"Friend?" At a loss for a moment, Mabel then glanced up and scanned the coffee shop, but couldn't see the black ski mask covered head anywhere.
Picking up the cup of black coffee, Mabel turned it in her hand and found a message scrawled in intricate loopy cursive: "Walk safe and stay warm."
A soft smile slowly curved on her lips. "A friend, indeed."
Author's Note: So I'm struggling a little with how I should write this story. Previously, I've decided each chapter by either word count, the events that occur in it or where would it simply be a good breaking point. I'm doing my best to space out events and keep a good pacing, but I find it hard to fill an entire long chapter with events and things to write about, yet I want to make my updates long enough for you guys to get immersed and see a fair chunk of new stuff. At the same time, I don't want to have major plot points or events single chapters away from one another as I worry things are moving too fast then.
So, I'm curious. Basically, would you guys prefer longer chapters that take me a longer time to write or shorter chapters that come out more frequently? I'll probably still do both or whatever works best for me, but I just wanted to know what you guys think.
Thanks for reading! I reply to all comments and thank you for your time! ^_^