I do not own Gravity Falls.

Prompt: Gingerbread

The Gingerbread Challenge

The kitchen was currently transformed into gingerbread construction central. The table was covered in different sized squares of the festive pastry, and there were containers of sprinkles, bags of peppermints and candy canes, tubes of coloured icing and gumdrops galore. Ford barely blinked at the mess when he entered the space.

"Making a gingerbread city, are we?"

"If I have enough gingerbread. You're just in time to help!"

"You know I'm not much of a baker."

"Aw, come on!" The fourteen-year-old clapped her hands together pleadingly. "It's not really baking. You can make a gingerbread lab!"

"I think I'll pass," said Ford politely. "I know you'll do just fine without me."

As he went to get a drink from the fridge, Mabel decided to switch to a different tactic. "You probably couldn't build a gingerbread house to save your life, anyway," she sniffed.

Eyebrows flying to his hairline, Ford turned to face his niece, a cool expression replacing the adorable stare that had been there just a second ago. "Excuse me?"

"Your gingerbread house would probably look like a run-down shack," she continued. "I guess I understand that you don't want to embarrass yourself by going against me."

Ford was aware that she was trying to taunt him into joining her holiday endeavors. She had picked up a few manipulation techniques from her time with Stan, but her execution of them was a purely innate ability. After an intense stare-down, he finally clicked his tongue and moved to sit in the chair beside her.

"You're sometimes so much like Stan it's terrifying."

Beaming, Mabel said cheerfully, "Thanks!"

"It wasn't necessarily a compliment," said Ford in amusement. "I hope you realize what you've gotten yourself into. I don't lose to those who challenge me."

Mabel's rush of joy at successfully getting her great-uncle to create Christmas treats with her was intermingled with nervousness at the strong conviction in his voice and gleam in his eyes. "Guess we'll see," she replied, trying to act casual.

Each of them grabbing a tube of icing, they started crafting their gingerbread houses. Ford was meticulous, placing a drop of icing at even intervals to ensure the gingerbread would be well stuck to its foundation. Mabel was a little more carefree, mounds of coloured icing gathering in random spots. She happily put her gingerbread house together and wasted no time in coating the pastry with sprinkles, gumdrops, candy canes and round chocolate pieces.

"Done!" she declared.

"Perfection is not made by rushing," returned Ford, eyes narrowing as he decorated his gingerbread roof with green and red gumdrops. When he was satisfied with his finished product, he glanced up and stared at Mabel's gingerbread house. "Well, perhaps sometimes there are exceptions."

Mabel smiled at that. "Thanks!"

Her creation was a splash of festive colours, icing dripping down the sides of the house. The edible walls were sagging slightly due to the amount of candy stuck to the exterior. It was on the opposite end of the spectrum of Ford's gingerbread house, where there wasn't a speck of icing out of place and all pieces of candy were carefully spaced out and arranged in a pattern by size and colour.

"I think you win," said Mabel sheepishly. "It's pretty perfect."

Ford regarded his gingerbread house thoughtfully. "On the contrary, I think it lacks a certain pizazz, as Stan would say. I think yours has plenty of it."

"What happened to not losing?" teased Mabel.

Ford reached out to ruffle her hair playfully. "To be fair, I tended to lose to Stan whenever he taunted me into whatever game or challenge he wanted me to partake in. Suppose I have yet to learn my lesson. But as they say, some things never change."

"I'm sorry if I was mean," said Mabel sincerely, a flush of guilt on her cheeks. "I just really wanted you to make gingerbread houses with me."

"I assure you dear, Stan has said much, much worse to me. You really don't need to resort to taunting tactics to coerce me into activities with you. If you ask enough you will penetrate my stubborn exterior. I really can't truly turn down spending time with you, even if the activity isn't my expertise."

Mabel reached over to wrap her arms around his neck and rest her chin against his shoulder. "Does that mean you'll help me with the rest of my gingerbread city?" she asked hopefully.

"Can't stop now, can I?" returned Ford, pulling her into his lap. "It's not much of a suburbia with one house."

Afterwards, when a good two dozen gingerbread structures had been crafted, Ford could admit that he had allowed Mabel to go overboard. They would be eating gingerbread for weeks, but as far as he was concerned, it was all worth it to see that bright, delighted smile on her face.