Smooth Sailing by Queen Elizardbeth
Chapter Two: The Morning After
Daylight softly streamed through the silk curtains. The peacocks in the Northwest gardens slowly raised their heads from underneath their wings, blinking in the new sunlight. Towees and Juncos native to the Oregon mountains piped their songs from their nests, cautiously demanding the consciousness of all other creatures.
As the rays of lights spread across the linen sheets that covered the queen-sized mattress, Pacifica Northwest stubbornly fought against the goal of the songbird. Her hair was surely a tangled mess, she felt the remains of her make-up clinging to her cheeks and lips, and she was currently curled up with something very soft and warm. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the thing closer to her, desiring to remain in slumber with whatever was bringing her such comfort. She let out a relaxed sigh, and regretfully cracked open an eye, getting full view of the sun that peaked over the mountains that blocked the town's path to the East. No sooner had she done this, however, the thing she around which her arms were wrapped and her hair was draped gave a tired groan, and pulled her closer to itself.
Pacifica closed her eyes and her lips curled into a smile. She pressed her lips to his ear and whispered, "Good-morning, Dipper."
Dipper nuzzled closer into her neck and murmured his own morning greeting. Pacifica gently placed a kiss on his cheek before pulling back. "Ok, time to get up," she muttered groggily, rolling over to grab her phone off of her bed stand. Temporarily blinded by the light of the screen, it took her a second to process all the texts on her screen. Scrolling through them, it only took her a second to realize at fifty-seven texts and twelve missed calls were from Mabel. Aaaaand there it it, she thought, how do I deal with this?
She was just about to inform Dipper of the current situation when she heard him groan in annoyance, looking at his own phone with despair. "Paz… Did she call you too?"
"Yep."
"Left voicemail?"
"She left seven."
"Listen to both of our at the same time?"
"Why not?"
The two shared a grimace and brought their phones to their ears, and immediately jerked back, the cacophony of shouts coming from the messages near unintelligible.
"DIPPER PINES WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED WE ARE? WADDLES HAD TO HAVE TWELVE NON-CONSECUTIVE MASSAGES BECAUSE HE WAS SO STRESSED! DID YOU RUN OFF AFTER YOU SPOKE TO PACIFICA? WHERE ARE YOU?"
"Paz, I don't know where Dipper is. Please tell me he just fell asleep at your place. Stan is going to drive me over real soon and Ford is starting to look in that elf-orb thing to see if he can find him. I know Dipper wanted to talk to you about some stuff, but I doubt he ACTUALLY told you… Anyway I'll be over around nine-thirty, I hope he didn't do something really stupid again… Oh! This is Mabel, bye!"
Pacifica rubbed her ear wincing, only now checking the time on her phone. "9:23 am" was displayed across the top, and her eyes widened in alarm. "Dipper!" she whipped around to face the brunette, who was currently rubbing his own ears in pain, still in shock from his sister's message. "Mabel will be here in five minutes!"
Dipper mouthed something that would have made his sister cover Waddles' ears in horror. He immediately rolled off the bed and began to put on his clothes as Pacifica began streaked to her closet, desperate to find something to wear. Just as Dipper pulled his sweater back on and Pacifica emerged from her closet, now clad in a Gravity Fall's High "Fighting Beaver" hoodie and skinny jeans, three sound knocks rang from her door.
"Miss Northwest, Mr. Stanly Pines and Miss Mabel Pines are here to collect Mr. Dipper Pines."
The two exchanged a nervous glance, both well aware of the marks each had left on the other's neck and the fact that Dipper now strongly smelled of Coco Mademoiselle. Pacifica sighed, tucking a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's get this over with…" she muttered, but Dipper grabbed her arm before she reached the door.
"Wha-" Dipper pressed his lips against hers, and she responded by throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her.
They stood like that for nearly a whole minute, until Pacifica gently pulled away. She looked up at him with stern eyes. "You're picking me up Friday and taking me to the Club. Wear something nice, don't worry about the bill, and we're seeing a movie afterwards."
Dipper looked down at her incredulously, and a goofy smile stretched across his face. "Y-yeah alright." He stuttered, having a hard time focusing with those blue eyes only inches from his own. "Does seven-thirty work?"
"Mmm, make it eight. Fewer people in the theater…" she whispered the last bit, her expression softening. She placed a quick peck on his lips before reaching for the elegant bronze door nobs.
Stan Pines could not believe these rich people. He understood the desire to have a huge house, but how on earth did they get the whale skeleton? His eyes wandered across the polished wood floor, most of which was covered by a ornate turkish carpet, and to the portrait of the Northwest family over the fireplace at the center of the grand staircase. Why did his grand-nephew have to become such close friends with that girl from that family? To her credit, something about the innocence painted on the young girl's face reminded Stan of Mabel, but this did not hide the proud looks of Preston and Pricilla Northwest, their charming smiles not reaching their cold, judgmental eyes.
Stan had as much relations with the Northwest family in the past thirty years as he had with his own parents: barely the passing glance. Hector Northwest, the patriarch of the family back when Stan first arrived in the 80's, had been pleasant to Stan up until they actually met. Stan guessed that Hector must have had some relationship with Ford, given the fact that the wealthiest man in Oregon had entered the Mystery Shack (or "Murder Hut", as it was called) immediately after it's grand opening in February of 1982 to see what the town's new "genius" had to offer. Apparently glued-together cornicorns and a man secretly recreating a inter-dimensional portal without even a poet's understanding of physics didn't come across as groundbreaking to Pacifica's grandfather. And of course, the little incident involving the stock on Settlement Day five years ago was ever present in Stanley's mind.
As Stan mused over these old memories, the butler who looked wrinkly enough to be Stan's foot after a bath came down the steps, likely bringing news of his wayward grand-nephew. The butler stopped right before the old man and adolescent woman and, without opening his eyes even a millimeter, said, "Miss Northwest and her guest will be down momentarily."
With that, the butler departed to probably dust of a skeleton or whatever these Northwests hid in their house. Mabel squeezed Stan's arm, the girl mixed with fear, anger, and joy. Stan could't blame her. After everything Dipper's done on his "scientific escapades" with his brother, it was not irrational to believe that Dipper had been attacked by some were-wolf or some rock monster. To be entirely honest, Stan wasn't as mad at Dipper for not replying than he was for making Mabel sad. Stan glanced down at his petite, sweater-clad niece. That girl really became his sunshine in a very dreary life. He wrapped an arm around her and whispered, "You get one free punch at him, the rest of his punishment can be a new makeover." Mabel beamed up at her grunkle, tear stains still fresh on her face. "Oh don't worry about that Grunkle Stan!" Mabel smile turned from a beam to a mischievous smirk. "Waddles and I have it all planned out."
Stan winked at his niece and turned back to face the stairs, down which the little princess and his nephew were descendin-oh boy.
Stan stared at the two with an expression that was a mixture of shock and amusement. Dipper's collar was pulled up over his neck, a fashion choice that Stan knew was not a habit of Dipper's. His lips had a red shine to them, and the bags around his eyes w-were gone! Dipper? Get a decent night's sleep? Stan had only seen Dipper sleep like the rest of the human race after he and Ford sprinted for two hours from some troll-creature. This was odd for Dipper, but his abnormalities paled in comparison to the blonde next to him. Every time Stan saw the rich drama-queen around town, she was clad in only the finest of clothes and wore excessive amount of perfect make-up. Now, she had on only a pathetic school sweat-shirt and a pare of faded jeans. Her hair, which Stan guessed was worth more than the Mystery Shack or even his brother after that triangle's Midas trick, was tangled and did not look dissimilar to a nest of writhing snakes.
"Dipper!" Stan's niece leapt onto her brother, wrapping him in a hug that could easily break bones. Stan made eye contact with Dipper and saw in his grand nephews eye a plea for help. Stan shrugged, giving him a "Well you didn't answer your phone" smirk. Eventually, the brunette party-planner released her captive and gave him a playful punch on the arm. "Why'dya leave me hanging?" Mabel grabbed her brother by the shoulders. "DO YOU KNOW HOW STRESSED WADDLES IS? And why," Mabel stood on her toes, increasing her height by about four inches to sniff her brother's hair, "Do you smell like Pacifica's fancy perfume?"
A silence hung in the entrance hall of Northwest manor. Mabel glanced back and forth between her brother and her friend, both of whom were beginning to turn pink. "I-uh-mm," Dipper stuttered out, trying to think of some excuse for his current aroma, but just as Mabel's eyes began to narrow suspiciously, Pacifica came to the rescue.
"I couldn't stand that stupid multi-bear smell. Seriously, Pines, do you every wash that hat?" Pacifica gave her hair a flip with a well-manicured hand, and continued to avoid eye contact with any of her guests. "Anyway, I sprayed him with some perfume to mask the smell. I had to use so much that I'll need to order another bottle."
Nice try honey, Stan thought to himself. Mabel may be as innocent as Alfred Dreyfus, but you aren't fooling this old grifter.
A wide smile stretched across Stan's face as he wrapped an arm around each of the twin's shoulders. "Well we mustn't overstay our welcome. And besides, I've got a whole busload of tourists coming later who won't rip themselves off!"
Stan steers his two brunette trouble-makers towards the door, but just slowly enough that, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dipper give Pacifica a small wave, which was returned with a loving smile.
Soon enough, the trio reached Stan's old deathtrap on wheels. Dipper made a start to sit in shotgun, but Mabel pulled him back. "Nu-uh, bro-bro. You get to sit next to me in the back, and you get to tell me everything about you're night!" Mabel gave him a gloating smile, and Dipper slid into the back seat, grumbling his displeasure. As the car started down the long drive back to the main road, Mabel rounded on her brother, resting her cheeks in her hands.
"Sooooo didya' tell her?" Mabel asked, her eyes full of the glee that was spreading from her chin.
"Uh.."
"Aw darn it Dipper!" Mabel threw her arms over her head in exasperation and fixed her brother with an annoyed stare. "This has been going on for two years. You HAVE to tell her eventually!" Mabel's hands covered her face. "You spent the whole night with her…"
Dipper tugged on his collar nervously, unknowingly exposing the marks on his neck to the prying eyes that were staring at him in the rear-view mirror.
"Well Dipper, what is that on your neck?" His grunkle shouted with false surprise, causing Dipper to go white with horror and Mabel to look up to see the cause of the new commotion.
"He's right, Dip. What are those?" Mabel prodded one of the marks with her forefinger, causing her brother to wince slightly. "They look like bite-bruises. Did you fight a snager again?" Mabel looked at her brother's eyes with concern, searching for an answer. What she received, however, was Dipper breaking out into a clammy sweat, his eyes darting around, desperately trying to avoid the eyes of his near-clone of a sister. Dipper began to stutter uncontrollably, trying to think of some sort of answer, anything would do.
Stan chuckled as he watched the scene unfold from the front seat. Alright, time to make things worse. "Mabel, it looks like I owe you twenty bucks."
His grand niece look at him in bewilderment. "What? Grunkle Stan, I lost the bet."
"No sweetie, I can guarantee you that you were right, but I don't think we did you're brother justice."
"What do you-" Mabel paused, her eyes widening as it started to fall into place. The perfume Dipper reeked of, the marks on his neck, the fact that he and Pacifica both looked like they had a wrestling match…
Dipper covered his face in despair as Mabel covered her mouth in shock, her eyes sparkling with surprise.
Time to finish it, Stan thought, and glanced at Dipper in the mirror, giving him a wicked smile.
"So champ, how was that Northwest mattress?"