"One more," Mabel muttered to herself as she rubbed her strained eyes. With her arm resting on the life-sized plushie she had made of Waddles to fill the void of their cuddles after he'd died, Mabel scrolled through the tenth page of her internet browser.

Unfortunately for Mabel, her vacation didn't mean that she could stop working. After a few jobs during and after college that proved either too dull or couldn't bring in the income she needed, she'd been at a loss. She had too much energy for some boring desk job and would have surely withered away in a cubicle. However, the jobs she wanted just weren't working out nor would they be a viable career without years of experience and possibly going back to college.

It'd honestly been by mere coincidence that she'd seen the news story, but after reading about a woman who sold her own, original crafts online and made good money, Mabel had been far too tempted to not at least try it.

Mabel was always very artsy and had plenty of ideas for various trinkets, jewelry, and clothes, so coming up with enough merchandise to launch a website had been the easiest part. Making it all had taken the longest, and during that entire month of preparation she'd worried about whether her gamble would work out. In the end, it had been more lucrative than she'd ever imagined. People liked what she created. Even the more strange or unusual products tended to gain some attention and soon Mabel a large following and a lot of trouble keeping up with the orders.

After the initial stress of such sudden demand, however, Mabel fell into a rhythm with her work and had reveled in the prospect of her new business. So long as she could think of ideas for things that people liked it and she could meet the demand, she made money and pretty good money at that.

Currently, her most popular items were actually some custom made plushies for Duck-tective which was making a resurgence in popularity. After she'd thrown up a picture of her Waddles plushie for kicks, the emails for custom ones had practically flooded in.

But people were always looking for the next thing, so after saying goodnight to everyone, she'd hopped on the computer to start looking for interesting and unusual symbols to use for a new set of jewelry she was making. The only downside about her occupation was that it really depended on her motivation to work, something that had been stunted since her excitement to return to Gravity Falls had kicked in about a two weeks ago.

And then there was the irony of what had kicked her creativity into gear when it had seemed to taunt her only earlier that day.

After lunch, Mabel had gone outside on the porch to text Wendy about when she'd be coming to the party, but spotting a light dusting of something green and a scratch on the corner of her phone had caused her to pause. Mystified by the sight, she'd reached into the pocket her phone had been in and pulled out the stone piece of Bill's body.

Scowling, the brunette had realized it had probably rubbed up against her phone, explaining the scratch and what she now realized was moss. So like a mature adult, she'd chucked the thing at one of the support beams of the house in annoyance only to have it come flying at her feet.

That was when she'd noticed something odd. After picking it up, she realized that the stone wasn't just green from the moss, but that it was green underneath. A thin layer of the stone had apparently chipped off when she'd thrown it and below the rugged, stony exterior was a smooth green material which reminded her of extremely dark colored glass. Curious, Mabel had grabbed some sandpaper from Soos' nearby tool box and slowly sanded away the stone to find that the whole thing was the same underneath.

It had made little to no sense to her how under one stone there could be something completely different, but it had given her an idea. She'd seen glass necklaces online, but some could even take a 2D image and magnify it to look 3D, like it was an object encased in the glass. The ideas started to flow and Mabel had begun to contemplate various coloring, images and different sets she could put them in. Now it was just a matter of finding symbols to put inside.

Yawning and not daring to look at the clock, Mabel stopped at the image of a snake eating its own tail and creating a circle. It had a little page about the meaning of the symbol as well which she'd have to look at later. Things tended to sell better when she explained any profound, archaic meanings behind them.

"Good enough," she muttered and bookmarked the page before closing her laptop and setting it aside.

"Goodnight, Waddles," she added before shutting her eyes and cuddling the plushie. Her eyes shut for a millisecond before snapping open again.

"Almost forgot." She turned on the light and rummaged through her luggage. Grinning, she shoved the small item into her pocket and hopped back into bed with a sigh and laid down, pulling the covers back over her.

"Goodnight, Lassy." She patted the laser gun in her pants before drifting off to sleep.

…

"It was worth a shot," Mabel sighed when her pockets turned up empty. "One I didn't intend to miss," she grumbled.

Having a genius for an uncle had its perks and the laser gun was just one. It'd been a gift from Ford for Christmas, one she was glad she'd been able to convince her parents was simply a toy. In actuality, it was a one-shot laser gun that needed time to recharge, but it was very compact in size, easy to carry around for "the off chance of a sudden ambush" as her great uncle had described it. Or, as she'd intended for her current needs, to blast an annoying human shaped triangle.

"Ha! Nice try, Shooting Star, but that won't work in here," the yellow demon taunted. It was almost adorable that she thought she could get the jump on him. "Not that you'd stand a chance with it anyway."

Mabel still had one last card up her sleeve.

"Not unless I have kitten fists!" Mabel pumped her fists at Bill dramatically, but was sorely disappointed when her hands remained kittenless.

She blinked when there was sudden flash of light and rubbed at her eyes as her vision blurred. When she could see again, she spotted Bill with a polaroid camera.

"Ah, the look of fading hope. Makes me proud to be the demon that crushed it." Bill said, pulling out a photo and waving it through the air as it developed.

"What are you-?"

"Darn it! I blinked," Bill frowned at the photo and tossed the camera behind him.

Against her better judgement, Mabel approached the demon and glanced down at the polaroid. She was shocked to see, not just her in the photo with her arms outstretched, but Bill behind her, giving her horns, and, in fact, blinking.

If she didn't know better, she'd say that Bill was starting to get sentimental in his ancient insanity, taking photos rather than laughing maniacally at her failure.

"How the heck?" Mabel grabbed for the photo to get a better look before Bill lifted it out of her reach.

"Asks the girl who tried to fire cats at me," Bill said bluntly, glancing down at her.

Mabel was almost sure that her current expression matched her disgruntled one in the photo.

"Why didn't that work? We're in the mindscape, aren't we?" The brunette narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion.

"Your naiveté is hilarious," Bill smiled slyly, letting the picture in his hand burn to ashes. "You really think I wouldn't safeguard against a repeat of my invasion of Stan's mind?" He hadn't counted on them even figuring it out then, but he wasn't about to take chances a second time.

Mabel scowled. So threatening Bill out of her dreams wasn't an option. She'd be the last person to guess that violence wouldn't solve the problem for once, but now it was up to plan B: talking.

"Yeah? Well…" Mabel grappled for a good comeback. "Your deals still suck! And nothing you say or do will make me make one with you. N. O. Deal. No dealo. Got it?" Mabel poked her finger into his chest firmly.

Optimistic as always, she hoped that her refusal to cooperate with the demon would make it clear that he should move on to find a more gullible pawn. Or at least ward him off long enough to afford her at least one night of uninterrupted sleep. Was she even resting properly when she had to endure his "visits"?

"Woah there, Shooting Star! That's quite an assumption to jump to." Bill lightly smacked her hand away with his cane, his other hand on his waist. "Have you ever thought that maybe I would be the one to visit you?" he asked with a grin. "It'll be just like the good ol' days."

"… What good old days?" Mabel stared at him, perplexed.

"Oh, you know. The scavenger hunts in your uncle's mind. Wrestling around during that puppet show. Playing tag, or as I like to call it, "run for your ever loving life" in the fearamid. The good old days!" Bill threw his arms up as his body flew into the air.

Mabel gaped at him. "You and I have very very different recollections."

"Potato, potauto, I turned your uncle into a statue, he was very good at charades." Bill shrugged. "Whether you like it or not, I have nothing better to do and you're stuck here until you wake up!" he declared.

"Why do I have a feeling you're really here just to drive me insane?" Mabel rubbed at her temple. If the night before had been any indication of what these visits would be like, then Mabel wouldn't put it past the demon.

"Drive you insane? I'm insulted." His lip jutted out in a pout. "The horrors I could thrust upon you in my little pinky alone would do irrevocable damage to your psyche," he told her as if pointing out the obvious. "If I was trying, you'd know it. Or… I guess you wouldn't." Bill held his chin, looking to the side. "Probably too busy trying to square a circle or something just as pointless," he muttered as an afterthought.

"Like you are now?" Mabel asked blankly.

Bill let out a low whistle. "Low blow, Star. Low blow." He rested his cane behind his neck with his hands on either side. "Plus, as fun as that sounds, I don't think you'd make the mental decline very well. And even I wouldn't break my newest toy that soon."

"So I'm a toy, huh?" Mabel's jaw ticked in annoyance.

"Hm… more like a pass time. Dress it up however you want. But since you won't make a deal with me, what else do you expect me to do?" Bill's question actually appeared sincere.

"Rotting in hell wouldn't be an option?"

"Joke's on you, kid!" Bill cackled. "I don't rot. And the guys in hell are a riot. Literally. That shit is right up my alley."

"Where's a can of spray paint when you need one?" Mabel asked, crossing her arms dejectedly.

"Combusting in a fire pit of hell where it belongs." Bill's voice lowered demonically as his eye flashed red for a moment. Just as Mabel's wide eyes started to instinctively look for an escape route, he was back to normal. "No getting rid of me," Bill sang. "You might as well accept it like the Trojans accepted that horse." Mabel didn't even want to think about the implications of that comparison.

"Should have set that horse on fire."

"Been there, done that. And quite frankly I expected you to be more creative than that." Bill laid himself out in the air with his arms behind his head, legs crossed casually.

Frowning up at him, Mabel sat down on the ground as she propped her head up with her elbow on her knee, reluctantly accepting the demon's unwanted company. How bad could it be?

"Is there really nothing else that you do besides making deals?" she sighed. Bill didn't strike Mabel as the workaholic type. Even if that work was aimed at causing the apocalypse.

"Not lately," Bill snorted. "You know, with being stuck in my body and all… because of you and your family." He suddenly appeared to her left, pointing at her while still floating in the air. "How are old Fordsy and Stan? Kick the bucket yet?" he asked with an amused smile. "I mean, it's been thirteen years and they weren't exactly spry brats like you were the last time I saw them. And with you humans having such laughably short lives and your own bodies clogging up your arteries on a daily basis like a corpse pipe on a grinder, I wouldn't be surprised if the maggots were gnawing at them as we speak."

Mabel glared at Bill, giving him the dirtiest look she could muster.

"Struck a nerve, I see," he commented coolly.

"…"

"Oh, come on. It was a joke… sortofbutnotreally."

"…"

"I try to off them myself and you barely bat an eye, but now I just insinuate they might have actually keeled over of natural causes and you get all bent out of shape?" he asked indignantly.

Mabel didn't budge.

"Jeez, tough crowd." Bill pulled at his collar.

Mabel could hear the sounds of crickets in the background as ran her hand over her face.

This was going to be a long night.

Author's Note: I now have this story on Tumblr and open asks. I... don't know what you could ask me, but I'm always open to talk, so feel free to come by. My name is the same there, but I'll put a link in my profile.