Chapter V: Totally Normal

TUESDAY

Mabel woke up like she always did: filled with energy and boundless enthusiasm to tackle the day.

Though, it was ever so slightly harder to get out of bed than usual. She'd stayed up a little too late finishing up the script for her soon-to-be hit puppet musical opera, but she'd completely committed to getting it done before she went to bed, and get it done she had! Sure, she had to stay up until two in the morning, but that was a sacrifice she'd been willing to make.

And she'd only been able to get it done in one night thanks to the other reason she had a hard time getting out of bed.

Candy was sprawled out across her bed, one of her arms draped across Mabel's abdomen, and one of her legs wrapped up in her own. That girl had a way of always making it just about impossible to get out of bed without jostling her awake too, which Mabel preferred to avoid doing. She liked to get up early, but her best friends weren't exactly early birds like she was. They needed their beauty sleep!

Grenda snored not-so-softly from the air mattress they'd set up near the foot of her bed, completely oblivious to Mabel's troubles (they'd long since abandoned trying to share one bed; there were some things even true friendship didn't make possible).

Mabel painstakingly extricated herself from Candy's limbs, and snuck out of bed as quietly as she could, careful to avoid even the slightest disturbance.

As she stood and did her morning stretches (gotta be limber to face the day's challenges!), she belatedly noticed that Dipper wasn't in his bed. He never got up before her.

She frowned. He'd been there when she finally went to bed last night, hadn't he?

Now that she thought about it, she actually couldn't remember! She'd been so wrapped up in writing that she'd crashed pretty much as soon as she'd written the final lines. Maybe he'd decided to sleep in the living room?

Nodding, she decided that that had to be it. Especially because a closer look revealed that there was one less pillow than there should be.

Satisfied with another mystery solved (and before she'd even gotten out of her room!), Mabel went about finding herself the perfect sweater for the day. She quickly and quietly sifted through her clean sweaters, finally settling on her white one with a four leaf clover on the front.

'You can never have too much luck!'

She crept from her room, careful to avoid making too much noise. This could be tough, considering how creaky the wood in their room liked to be, especially in the mornings before it got too hot. Mabel all but tip-toed down the stairs, since they tended to be the noisiest part of the Shack.

Poking her head into the living room, she was even more surprised to find that Dipper wasn't asleep on the recliner, or even awake in the recliner for that matter! He'd spent quite a bit of time on that laptop yesterday, so she'd half expected to see him still awake, eyes wide and bloodshot, clacking away at that noisy old keyboard.

She scratched her chin even as she smothered the little bits of guilt that threatened to ruin her good mood. The missing pillow was present on the recliner, confirming her deduction at least in part.

Something clattered in the kitchen, making the task of guilt-smothering even easier for her. She rushed to the kitchen, her brother's name and a sassy remark on her lips and ready to fire.

Instead of Dipper though, it was just Grunkle Stan shuffling around in his slippers and a dingy tank top, with Waddles close at his heels.

She was relieved to see that he was wearing a pair of sweatpants for once. Grenda and Candy liked boys, not old men.

"Mornin' Grunkle Stan!" she called, a few decibels lower than she usually shouted it.

He looked up at her over the rim of his coffee mug and grunted his usual greeting. "Morning, kid." He looked at her for a few more seconds, as if he was waiting for her to sprout a second head. "Friends still here?"

"Yep! They're still sleeping." Then, for explanation, she excitedly continued, "We were up late putting the finishing touches on the greatest masterpiece ever written in Gravity Falls!"

Grunkle Stan chuckled dryly. "Pretty low bar there."

She shushed him loudly as she retrieved a mug from a cabinet. "Just you wait, one day the money I make from the film adaptation rights'll change your tune." From the fridge, she found her supply of Mabel Juice and poured herself a cup. She'd made a fresh batch last night, knowing she'd need it in the morning.

Grunkle Stan made a disgusted noise, then sipped from his coffee. "Y'know, when your parents asked me to take you in for the Summer, they didn't tell me I'd be cooking for your friends too."

"Aw, Grunkle Stan, they weren't my friends yet! How could my parents warn you about them?" She replied, as if that was a real defense.

Her Grunkle just snorted. "Think they'll like Stancakes?"

"Of course!" she answered cheerily.

And they would! As long as they didn't end up with any that had hair in them.

She took a seat at the kitchen table as she drank her Mabel Juice, trying and failing to lure Waddles to her feet.

Waddles was smart, he knew Grunkle Stan always found something to snack on before he made breakfast, and if he waited patiently, he might get a bit of it. Otherwise, he was totally and completely faithful to her!

...Usually.

She watched her Grunkle shuffle around the kitchen as she downed her first cup of Mabel Juice (except for the toy dinosaurs).

He took out the premade pancake mix he usually used for his home recipe and withdrew eggs and some bacon (the horror!) from the fridge, Waddles dogging at his heels the whole time. He set two frying pans atop the stove, and then grabbed himself a muffin before finally settling in the seat next to her at the table.

He tore off a chunk of the muffin and threw it to Waddles, who promptly devoured it in three seconds and then settled at Mabel's feet, satisfied.

Grunkle Stan pulled up the newspaper that was waiting for him at the table, and flicked through it absentmindedly. "I really shouldn't be rewarding you for stealing from me–" he held up his hand to stall her instant self-defense, "–but I pulled a few strings. Friday night at seven o'clock, the Theatre Time Theater is yours."

Mabel rocketed out of her chair and wrapped her Grunkle in a tight hug, the sweat stained tank top the furthest thing from her mind. "Thank you! You're the best Grunkle a girl could ask for!" She bounced on her toes, optimism flooding through her every pore. Everything was coming up Mabel!

Grunkle Stan grunted, but she could see the smile tugging at his lips. "Just don't burn the place down, alright kid?" he said gruffly, patting her back before shooing her off him. "And keep it under three hours!"

She settled back down in her seat, a huge smile splitting her face clean in two. "Can do!" She might have to cut a scene or three, but she could squeeze it in there for sure. "How'd you pull it off?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Stan grinned for real now as he pulled his newspaper back up. "Everyone knows old people all know each other."

"Fine," she replied with a laugh, "keep your secrets! I didn't want 'em anyway!"

She sipped her second cup of Mabel Juice, picking out some of the plastic bits as her mind raced with thoughts about her show. Luckily, she hadn't made any promises to Gabe about where her puppet show was going to be held at; this simplified things quite a bit for her! But whether she held the show in the theater or not, she still had so much to do!

Sure, they'd gotten the script done, but they had to make posters and flyers, contact the Gossiper, hit up the public access channels, make the puppets, make the props, make the everything, and of course, write the songs! She couldn't forget the songs!

But songs would be easy. Mabel lived for music. Soos said he'd bring her all the melodies she could ever need, and she just had to put some lyrics to them. She made lyrics all the dang time! She could write the songs in her sleep!

Grunkle Stan spoke up again, bringing her back out of the land of Puppets and Singing. "By the way, I need you or Dipper to pick up a few things for the Shack today. Take Soos too." He flipped a page of his newspaper, and very nonchalantly continued, "... and if you need anything for the show, it's on me."

Her smile grew three sizes, but she withstood the urge to launch herself across the table at him again. He was cuddly deep down, she was sure of that, but there was only so much he was willing to tolerate in a short timespan. "Thank you," she said softly, finally feeling a little remorse for swiping that fifty, even if it was Grunkle Stan's fault for encouraging so much bad behavior. But then she remembered something. "Wait, where is Dipper? He wasn't in bed, and he's not in the living room either."

Grunkle Stan pointed up, not even looking up from his newspaper. "Last I checked he was on the roof with that dinosaur of a computer."

"The roof?" she asked incredulously. "Why's he up there?"

Her grunkle shrugged. "Beats me, kid. He was already awake when I got up, and he went right up as soon as he saw me. Puberty, am I right?" After he stopped laughing at his own joke, he added, "Been about fifteen, twenty minutes or so?"

Mabel could only frown, which was something she hated to do, especially this early in the morning. He'd seemed... much better last night, she thought. He'd been a bit put out by the suddenness of her puppet show emergency, but by the time Grunkle Stan had ordered pizza for all of them, he'd seemed fine!

"I'm gonna go check on him," she said firmly, before quickly downing the rest of her second cup of Mabel Juice.

"Suit yourself! I'll holler when the Stancakes are done."

She got up from the table quickly, but before she left the kitchen she knelt down to pet Waddles one more time for good measure. "You be nice to Grunkle Stan," she ordered. By the look in his eyes, she knew he understood.

Mabel walked over to the still somewhat dim gift shop. It was always a little weird to see it before the Shack opened for real, partly because the sun was still on its way up and so everything was... somehow sleepier, but mostly because it was just weird! It felt different to be there after it closed; before, it was like she was somewhere she wasn't supposed to be. And she lived here!

The ladder was right where it always was ever since that first time Wendy had shown them the way up. Thinking about it, she wasn't sure if she'd gone up since Dipper accidentally raised the dead, which she'd graciously let him live down with a minimum of teasing. She climbed up easily with her superior upper body strength, and shivered as soon as she was up.

It was a nice and sunny day, with a bit of a breeze which rustled the leaves of the many trees that surrounded the Shack. It was quiet and peaceful still. Not that Gravity Falls ever got particularly loud or chaotic (unless she was involved!), but it was a decidedly calm morning. Shockingly normal!

Except for the clacking.

BZZZZZZZT.

Clack clack clack clack clack clack clack clack.

BZZZZZZZT.

Dipper sat where he always sat when he came up here, on the edge with his feet dangling into open air. He stared completely at the laptop screen in front of him, totally ignoring the beautiful day that surrounded him.

BZZZZZZZT.

"Dipper?" she called.

Dipper jerked as if she'd run up and smacked him, but he turned to face her regardless. "Mabel?" he asked, "What are you doing up here?"

"What am I doing up here? What are you doing up here?" That was the far more pressing question!

He cringed and diverted his gaze. "I just had a hard time sleeping, that's all."

The wrinkles around his eyes were even more pronounced than they usually were, and he wasn't even wearing his hat, so she could see exactly how disheveled his hair was. He definitely looked like he'd had a hard time sleeping at least.

"I can tell," Mabel said, pursing her lips. She then plopped down beside him before he could tell her to go away or whine about her being too pushy, and kicked her legs idly just to have something to do. "Y'know, Wendy said the same thing yesterday."

Dipper glanced back over at her the second he heard Wendy's name, like she knew he would. She'd really tried to play the Wendy card less since she turned him down, but he just made it too easy sometimes. "Really?" he asked.

She waved her hand vaguely. "Eh, it was close enough; said she was up late. I'm not sure I bought it with her, but with you bro-bro, I believe it." She bumped her shoulder into his. "You weren't up all night with the laptop, were you?"

Dipper looked away from her again and shrugged. "Not on purpose."

Okay, so it was one of those times, where she'd have to needle him to get anything at all out of him. "We weren't too loud, were we?"

She remembered the time they'd fought over that other room in the Shack, when she first started having Grenda and Candy come over for sleepovers. She'd really tried to keep the energy levels slightly lower since then! And especially after he'd gotten mad at Candy for suggesting he get some fresh air yesterday.

"Well, except Grenda, you and Candy were fine," Dipper said with a snort, before shutting the laptop and setting it aside. He rested his chin on his right hand, and finally looked out at the slowly rising sun. "Look, it wasn't anything you guys did, I just had like… nightmares, alright?" he admitted, a little bit of red tinging his cheeks.

Now that was definitely weird for Dipper.

"Nightmares?" She repeated, surprised.

"Yeah," he replied, still not looking at her. "It was like every time I fell asleep I just restarted the same one."

"Wanna tell me about it?" she asked, trying to keep the curiosity out of her voice.

Dipper stared out at the trees for a long moment. "Not really."

She filed this little mystery away for later; she'd get it out of him, sooner or later.

"I went downstairs and tried to sleep on the recliner, but it didn't help much," he continued, before shrugging again. "So I stopped trying to go to sleep, and decided that I might as well make use of the time and work on the password." He scoffed. "Not that I made much of a dent."

Mabel patted his back. "We'll crack it this weekend, or I'm not the most powerful force in the universe!"

A small smile broke the somber expression on his face, and she counted that as a win.

"Oh! And Grunkle Stan needs one of us to pick up a few things today, but I can do it," she said with a grin. "There's probably a few more puppet supplies I need to pick up anyway!"

Dipper nodded gratefully. "Thanks Mabel, maybe I'll just…" he yawned. "...take a nap when you go."

Mabel got to her feet with a burst of energy and clapped once. "Alright! We got a long day of work ahead of us, so let's go have ourselves some breakfast." She held out her hand for Dipper to take (which he did with a roll of his eyes) and pulled him to his feet with her.

"Is it Stancakes again?"

Mabel shook her head sadly. "You know our poor Grunkle can only cook a few things bro-bro, cut him some slack." Then, with a giggle, she slapped his back. "So judgmental!"

But Dipper wasn't really paying attention anymore, he was just staring ahead with a weird look on his face. A second later, she heard it herself: the rumble of a truck getting closer.

She looked up the road, following Dipper's gaze and expecting to see Soos's brown, beat-up old pickup. She was surprised to see a different beat-up old pickup. This one was bigger than Soos's, and was a faded red. The gears turned in her head as she tried to remember where she'd seen it before. It was a pointless task though, because as soon as it got closer, she was able to make out Manly Dan Corduroy in the driver's seat, and her favorite cashier on the planet riding shotgun.

"Wow!" Mabel exclaimed, "she never comes to work early!"

And she usually rode to work on her bike too!

Dipper mumbled an agreement as the truck pulled to a stop in front of the Shack. Wendy exited the passenger's seat and said something to her dad that Mabel couldn't quite make out, then looked up at them and waved.

"Good morning!" Mabel called excitedly, before remembering her friends might still be asleep and turning her volume down slightly. "Fancy meeting you here!"

Wendy laughed, and removed her bike from the bed of the truck in one clean movement before locking it in front of the gift shop. Then, she went back to the truck and retrieved something else, at which point Manly Dan backed out and started to drive away. When Wendy neared the entrance to the gift shop, she held whatever it was she was carrying up for them to see.

It was the sewing machine she'd mentioned!

"I didn't feel like tying a wagon to my bike," Wendy explained with a grin. Then, she turned her gaze to Dipper specifically. "And, dude, I think you forgot to put on some pants."

Mabel turned to confirm this fact, and sure enough, the boy was in his boxers! She hadn't even noticed!

Dipper went redder than Wendy's hair, and retreated down the ladder in a flurry of movement she'd thought he was too tired for. "There's Mabel Juice in the fridge if you need it!" she called after him, but she didn't hear a response.

Wendy looked like she was trying not to laugh, but Mabel didn't have to spare her brother's feelings now that he was gone, so she laughed long and hard.

"Can ya let me in?" Wendy asked once Mabel had her fill of laughter. "Kinda hard to get myself in with my hands full." She shook the sewing machine slightly to prove her point.

Mabel gave her two thumbs up and a wide smile, and was down the ladder in a flash.

Wendy's Tuesday was going a lot better than her Monday had, despite having to wake up early to catch a ride with her dad who woke up and went to work obscenely early in the morning. Or that's how it felt to her, at least.

She got to have some breakfast that she didn't have make for once, which was a pretty solid mark in Tuesday's favor. Yeah, Mr. Pines' pancakes weren't the greatest, but the best food was always the kind she didn't have to cook herself.

Thinking about it, she was pretty sure that it was the first time she'd ever had breakfast with the Pines clan. She'd had lunches, and dinners too (if you counted pizza or other takeout), but she'd never really been to the Shack early enough to be invited to breakfast.

Mabel's friends had spent the night, so Mr. Pines ended up making a mountain of pancakes. More than enough for all of them, and then some. Mr. Pines was cheap about a lot of things, but not breakfast, it seemed!

Mabel and her friends monopolized most of the breakfast conversation, talking about the script, the songs, and their plans for the day to make Mabel's wildest dreams a reality. Grenda could be really loud, which was something she was used to with her family, but still, wow! While Candy was the opposite, so quiet Wendy had a hard time making out what the girl was saying half the time. But the three of them clearly had a system, and between them, there was scarcely a quiet moment at the table.

Which was good, because Dipper spent breakfast trying not to look her in the eye. Only this time, she wasn't too torn up about it.

Okay… she felt the tiniest little smidge bad about pointing out his boxers like that, but it was just too good of an opportunity to pass up! Really, it would have been weird not to make a joke about it. And everything was normal!

They still had plenty of time after breakfast before the Shack opened for real, so Wendy took her sewing machine up to the twins' room, and hosted a bit of a workshop on how to get it working without hurting yourself.

"You're gonna get stabbed sooner or later, so don't worry about it too much, just accept it. God, you should've seen my hand when I first learned. Wear your scars with pride!"

Maybe it wasn't the most safe way to teach someone, but hey, she wasn't a teacher.

Luckily, Candy already knew how to work one herself, and Mabel wasn't too far behind. Between the three of them, they'd be able to get Grenda and Dipper up to speed.

By the time Dipper (who was still doing his level best to not meet her eyes) was giving it a shot himself, it was opening time, and Wendy had to excuse herself to go and do her actual job, unless she wanted to get yelled at by Mr. Pines.

Only after getting the gift shop nice and ready for the day's gaggle of tourists and finding her usual seat behind the cash register did she finally start to overthink things.

'It was just a little joke, surely he couldn't get too upset about it? Right?'

'I don't tease him all the time like Mabel does, but I still do it every now and again, don't I?'

'I've seen him in swim trunks and that's pretty much the same!'

But not even forty five minutes into her shift, Dipper had found his way into the gift shop.

"How's this?" he'd asked, holding up a bit of stitched fabric for her to inspect.

"Not bad," she'd replied, glad that he was smiling at her again. "But I think dictator Mabel is gonna want a lot more from us."

Dipper had laughed, and Wendy couldn't help but feel relieved; everything was still good. Everything was still normal.

And that was how her Tuesday at the Mystery Shack passed. They didn't end up getting very many tourists that day, but with everything they still had to do for Mabel's puppet show, there were precious few moments for her to dwell on things.

All day, she had guests, just not the paying kind. Soos asking her if his latest melody sounded good to her (not her taste, but not bad), Mabel asking if her dialogue sounded natural (it didn't), Candy asking if she could use Wendy's sewing machine (she could), and so on. It was all very busy and chaotic, which was definitely the way she liked it. It made time pass quickly.

Even Dipper made the occasional appearance, usually to ask for her opinion on his handiwork.

They both continued to ignore the elephant in the room, but they both smiled and they both laughed, and they both acted like everything was normal. Because it was!

It was five o'clock and Wendy was, truthfully, pretty swamped.

Waking up early and then facing the nonstop commotion of the day had taken its toll, slowly but surely.

The Mystery Shack hadn't had any new marks for over an hour, so her actual job job didn't offer her much to do, and Soos had taken Mabel and her friends to go pick up a few things in town.

Dipper hadn't popped into the gift shop in a little while either, which made things drag for her all the more.

At least Soos was supposed to bring some pizza back with them, which was always welcome in Wendy's eyes. They'd specifically invited her to stay for dinner even, which meant she had ample excuse to stay late at the Shack (so her dad had to take care of dinner at home tonight instead of her, yet another happy side effect). Normally she tried to be gone as soon as her shift was up, but she'd promised to help Mabel with her show, and she really hadn't done that much for her today.

Wendy told herself that was the main reason.

She rested her chin on her hands and tried not to yawn. Practically against her will, her gaze slid to the ladder that led up to the roof; she could really go for some fresh air, now that she thought about it. It'd help wake her up if nothing else.

Pulling herself out of her chair, she walked over to the Employee's Only door that led to the living room, and pulled it open quietly.

Peeking in, she could see that the living room was littered with crafts supplies, and everywhere she looked there were sock puppets in various stages of completion. Mr. Pines' recliner was covered in socks and cuts of fabric, but the man himself was noticeably absent.

Deciding that that was enough covering her ass, she closed the door just as quietly as she'd opened it and made her way up the ladder and onto the roof.

The air wasn't as cool as it had been in the morning, but she welcomed the feel of it against her face anyway. She enjoyed it for a moment, and then sat down on the beach chair she'd dragged up earlier in the summer. The shade of the umbrella (which had also been brought up by her) shielded her too-pale skin from the sun's rays.

She'd gotten a pretty bad sunburn back when Kevin was still little, and she definitely never forgot the lesson she learned then.

With a shiver, Wendy leaned back in the chair, feeling somewhat lost without a Pitt Cola in her hand. Due to the excitement of the morning, she'd sadly forgotten to bring up any ice for the cooler, and she wasn't about to sneak into the kitchen to steal a soda from the fridge and risk running into her boss. So she settled on the next best thing and took out her phone.

She had way too many messages, like always. And they were mostly from Tambry, also like always. There were a couple from Robbie, but she deleted them without checking them; she really didn't feel like dealing with that right now.

She felt a pang of something when she got to the end of her messages and realized that none of them were from Dipper.

Things were good now, weren't they?

Sure, they'd kissed, and they still hadn't really talked about it at all... but, they were still friends, dammit. They could still talk about other things, right?

She scrolled back through her messages, looking for the last one he'd sent her.

'of course dude'

It was from right before she'd picked him up on Saturday, and besides the messages she'd sent right after, neither of them had sent anything since then.

Well... she almost had on Sunday night.

But he could have texted her if he wanted to, and he hadn't. Not even after their conversation yesterday!

He used to blow up her phone with options for their movie nights, but now? Nothin'. Nada. Silence.

God, when was the last time she'd agonized about text messages like this? Eighth grade? She was supposed to have outgrown this kinda crap when she got to high school. Text messages were Tambry's thing anyway, not hers.

And why did she even care? She could walk right over and talk to Dipper in person if she wanted to, he was probably just working on a puppet! Hell, they'd talked a bunch of times today! Yeah, it hadn't been about much besides Mabel's show, but still!

Wendy grumbled to herself, and went back to the front of her inbox to finally look at Tambry's messages.

She opened the most recent one, but then realized it didn't make any sense unless she went back to one of the prior ones. Tambry was never very considerate of the fact that Wendy didn't have a smartphone, which made her texts a bit of a pain to deal with at times. Having to open a bunch of individual messages was a lot more annoying on an old school cell phone like hers.

'down to hang out after work?'

'lee wants to hit up the mall'

'nate just wants to get food'

'...'

'still waiting'

'god it cant be that busy can it?'

The initial message had been sent around three, but the rest were from within the last hour. Tambry had a way of getting impatient sometimes.

'sorry no can do. helping Mabel out at the shack tonight'

She hoped that would be the end of it, but she knew her friend well enough to know it wasn't. Twenty seconds later, her suspicions were confirmed.

'helping with what?'

Wendy typed out a response quickly. The sooner she got it over with, the better.

'a sock puppet show, she needs help making stuff'

Tambry's response was again almost immediate, and made Wendy frown.

'smells like bs'

She'd told Tambry that she'd rejected 'Mason', just like she'd promised to on Sunday, but Wendy couldn't shake the feeling that Tambry saw right through that particular lie.

But as long as she didn't come snooping around the Shack asking if anyone knew a Mason, she'd be fine. Wendy just couldn't lie again to cover up what she'd already lied about, better to cover them up with truth. If there was anything she knew from her prior messes of relationships, it's that lies had a way of spinning out of control.

Which provided her the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

'hey dude could you send me a pic of one of the puppets?'

It was her first message to Dipper since Saturday, and it was perfectly innocent. Very normal. Nothing to even look twice at!

A minute later she received a photograph of what she assumed was the early stages of a Mabel puppet, with a near perfect recreation of Mabel's favorite rainbow sweater and a great big pair of googly eyes. She couldn't help but giggle at the sight of it.

'good enough?' Dipper's text message read.

'perfect, you're the best!'

She hit send and immediately cringed.

Was that too nice? She wasn't trying to– to what? Lead him on? Give him the wrong idea? She was just saying the kinds of things she always did!

Wendy groaned as she forwarded the photo to Tambry, and got a reply as quickly as always.

'god when did you get so lame'

Wendy wished she could say she didn't know, but the fact was that she knew exactly.

Saturday night. On her front porch, with too much beer and three shots flowing through her veins, sitting next to the twelve year old who looked at her like she was a goddess.

That was when she'd gotten so lame.

Sighing, she shut her phone and slipped it in her pocket… just in time to see Soos's truck pulling into the Shack's parking lot. Mabel rocketed out of the passenger's side before Soos even turned off the truck, which assaulted Wendy with roughly five seconds of the worst song on the radio.

"Am I blanchin''

"Girl we blanchin''

Wendy blanched.

An hour and a few too many slices of pizza later, the Mystery Shack was officially closed for the night. Mr. Pines either didn't realize she'd spent twenty minutes up on the roof, or just didn't care. Either way suited Wendy just fine.

With six people in the living room afterwards (everyone under the age of eighteen plus Soos), it was more crowded than she'd ever seen it. Mabel and her friends chattered excitedly while Soos took scissors to a great big piece of cardboard and Dipper glued googly eyes onto a sock puppet (even though Mabel said it looked tacky if you did it that way).

Wendy sat on Mr. Pines fake dinosaur skull (what dinosaur was it even supposed to be?) and worked on a puppet of her own. She'd already got the hair and eyes on it, but she still needed to create something that could pass for her hat. Mabel had bought a fabric at Shop Thrifty with a pattern that was remarkably similar to her favorite green flannel shirt, so making a copy of it wouldn't be too hard at all.

As it stood though, her mini-me was still nude and hatless. Wendy locked eyes with her puppet face and giggled.

Dipper looked up from his own project and glanced at hers, but Wendy covered up her puppet with her hands with a laugh. "Don't look!" she said, "She's naked!"

The tiniest blush bled onto Dipper's face as he chuckled, before his eyes returned to his own puppet.

"Get that girl some clothes!" Grenda all but shouted from the other side of the room.

"Yeah Wen-Wen, it's meant to be fun for the whole family!" Mabel agreed with a grin and an accusatory point.

Wendy could only snort and roll her eyes as she snatched up the green flannel-ish fabric from the pile she'd put together for herself and got to cutting out something that could charitably be called a shirt. Her puppet only had a couple speaking lines anyway, so it wasn't like she'd be getting much spotlight in the opera. People wouldn't even notice if puppet Wendy looked a bit shabby!

Unless Mabel changed up the script again which... was very possible.

She kinda just let the details of show wash over her. She was here to help, not ask questions; that's what Candy and Grenda were there for! For her, it was best to just roll with Mabel's craziness in times like these.

Soos perked up from his cardboard cutting after Mabel mentioned a smoke machine. "A smoke machine?" he asked, curious. "Whatcha need that for dude?"

Mabel threw her arms up violently. "For the war!"

Candy nodded excitedly beside her. "It is a speedbump on the road of their love. So romantic!" She giggled and covered her face.

Grenda pumped her fist. "Plus, explosions are awesome!"

Wendy could only grin at their enthusiasm, it was infectious. She knew the show probably wouldn't end up being her sorta thing, but with these girls hyping it up so hard, she could almost believe it'd rock her socks off.

Soos scratched at the stubble on his chin. "I dunno dudes, I think a war scene will use a lotta budget."

As if summoned by the mere mention of money, Mr. Pines, already changed out of his Mr. Mystery getup, poked his head in from the hallway. "What's this about a war?" He grumbled, staring hard at Mabel. "And budget?"

Mabel jumped to her feet in a rush. "Grunkle Stan, this has gotta blow everyone away, so if we need a war scene then there has to be one!"

Narrowing his eyes, Mr. Pines hummed. "Okay, what war?"

Mabel's eyes widened. "What war? What do you mean 'what war'?"

Mr. Pines crossed his arms. "What war is your puppet boyfriend fighting in? Are there even any wars happening right now?"

Wendy actually wasn't even sure, she didn't watch the news if she could avoid it.

"We can just make something up," Mabel said confidently. "No one will know the difference!"

Mr. Pines shook his head and smirked. "I'm not sure Mabel, the writing here feels a little suspect."

Mabel puffed her chest out. "No one cares about world building, Grunkle Stan, it's all about the characters! The drama! The romance!"

"And explosions!" Grenda added helpfully.

Mr. Pines looked between the two of them, and then shrugged lazily. "Whatever you say girls, but you better find something cheap. Or better yet, free."

And with that, her boss was gone as quickly as he'd arrived, leaving the rest of them to continue with all of the actual work.

Wendy managed to make a puppet shirt she was halfway satisfied with while Mabel and her advisors continued to talk shop. Mostly about whether or not they should make the war an alien invasion or not.

Signs were pointing to 'absolutely!'

Wendy was starting on her puppet's hat when Mabel's conversation topic changed suddenly.

"Do you think Pacifica would wanna help?" Mabel asked, to everyone and no one.

Wendy could only quirk an eyebrow. It wasn't a name she knew off the top of her head, but the quick glance Grenda and Candy shared and the scowl on Dipper's face told her plenty.

"Pacifica?" Dipper asked, practically saying the name like it was a curse. "Why would she wanna help?"

Mabel frowned at her twin. "C'mon Dipper, you weren't there! She can turn a new leaf. Right Soos? Back me up!"

"Uhhhh, reply hazy, try again," Soos said, hiding behind his piece of cardboard.

Mabel was frowning, and her two friends were conspicuously quiet.

"Who's Pacifica?" Wendy asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Dipper answered before Mabel could. "Pacifica Northwest." He said, scoffing. "We exposed her family as a bunch of frauds back on Pioneer Day."

Oh! That was the heiress from the newspaper article, the one about the v-necks. She knew her type. The Sandras of the world.

"Yeah... sorry Mabes I think I'm with Dipper on this one. I don't think a rich girl like her is gonna wanna get her hands dirty," Wendy said, phrasing it as delicately as she could.

Mabel made a dissatisfied noise and crossed her arms.

"And besides, she didn't even give you her number, you told me that yourself," Dipper continued, in full lecture mode.

"She's my friend on Facebook now," Mabel said, sticking her tongue out at her brother.

Dipper's scowl deepened. "Facebook? When did you make one of those? Mom said we couldn't–"

Mabel cut him off this time. "–Mom isn't here, is she?"

The two of them glared at each other silently, until Candy spoke up in a meek voice. "W–we made her one on Saturday."

"It was our idea," Grenda confirmed. "We wanted to be friends in real life and online!"

Dipper didn't say anything else as he looked back down at the puppet in his lap. Another silence stretched, this one far more awkward than the previous one.

Mabel was chewing on her lip, and everyone else was pretending to be busy.

Wendy felt tempted to say something to ease the tension, but Candy jumped suddenly and saved her the effort. "Oh!" she yelped, waving her cell phone. "My mom is on her way!"

Grenda jumped to her feet. "We have to get our stuff!"

The three tween girls left the room in a blur, leaving the awkwardness behind, along with a mess of socks and fabric and other bits all over the floor.

They worked silently for a minute, as Wendy heard the thumps from upstairs that could only be Grenda and Candy gathering up all the stuff they'd brought the day before.

"So noisy," Dipper said under his breath.

(She was pretty sure it was one of those times he hadn't actually meant to say anything out loud.)

Wendy looked down at her puppet. She hadn't gotten the hat done yet, but the rest was looking pretty decent if she said so herself. Getting up from the dinosaur skull, she walked over to Dipper's side and knelt over.

It took him a second to notice her, but when he did, he reddened once again. "H–hey."

Wendy smiled. "How's lil Dipper going?" she asked, even though she could plainly see the puppet in his hands for herself.

Dipper held up the puppet version of himself to give her a better look. "Not the greatest," he said with a grimace. Puppet Dipper didn't have a shirt, but did have a copy of the usual jacket Dipper liked to wear, as well as a miniature version of his hat on top of a brown shock of yarn hair. Its eyes were looking in opposite directions, and they weren't quite evenly spaced.

"I think he's cute," Wendy said, the words flying out of her mouth before she'd thought about them. She cleared her throat and focused her gaze on the puppet. "The hat came out really nice."

"Thanks," Dipper said after a beat. "Took me like an hour."

"Well, it was worth it," she replied, still looking at the puppet. "Wait, why's he only got one arm? Did he lose the other one in the war?"

Dipper chuckled, a small smile finally breaking through his scowl. "I thought it was an alien invasion?"

Wendy laughed too and elbowed him gently. "What do ya say to grabbing us a couple Pitt Colas and meeting me up top? I need a break from all this artsy stuff."

"Sure," he said, the small smile still stuck on his face and their gazes finally meeting.

Her face warmed ever so slightly, and she tore her eyes from his and looked at the room's other occupant. "Can you hold the fort for us Soos?" Wendy asked.

Soos nodded seriously and gave them a thumbs up. "You got it boss!"

Dipper moved towards the kitchen as Wendy left through the 'employee's only' exit to the gift shop. The lights were off and the blinds were closed now, but she didn't need much light to scale the ladder quickly anyway; she didn't have six years of Christmas survival trainings for nothing.

The sun was on its way down, but there was still a ways to go before sunset, and there was a slight breeze just like there'd been in the morning. She yawned in spite of herself, and sat down on the chair underneath the umbrella.

The breeze felt heavenly against her skin.

Deciding that she'd like some of it on her hair too, she removed her hat and set it down beside her, then shook her hair out behind her. She couldn't help but groan. The breeze did feel great in her hair.

She loved her hat, but it could definitely make her feel a bit stuffy at the end of a long day.

Dipper chose that moment to clamber up the ladder without a soda in sight, and she was about to make a smart remark when he withdrew a can from one of his pockets.

He offered it to her with a smile. "Ladies first," he said, the ghost of a blush on his cheeks.

She accepted it, ignoring the flutter in her chest when her fingers brushed his.

Cool. Normal.

"Thanks," she said with her best too-cool-for-school smirk. "Y'know, it's total bullshit that you can fit a whole soda in guy pockets."

Dipper frowned. "Guy pockets?" he repeated, confused. "What do you mean?"

Wendy laughed slightly too long, but he didn't seem to notice. "Girl pockets suck, dude, you're lucky if you can even fit a compact in 'em. Hell, some pants don't even have pockets at all. "

"Compact?" He asked, the gears turning behind his eyes as he stared at her face. "...I didn't know you used makeup."

"What, you think I look this good all the time dude?"

Dipper blushed in earnest, and Wendy briefly contemplated jumping off the roof. What the fuck was she saying?

She cracked open her drink with a hiss, and took a long sip to buy herself some time.

Play it cool.

Dipper took his soda out of his other pocket and followed suit.

Wendy scooted slightly to give him a bit more room on the chair, and he sat down mercifully far from her.

They sipped their drinks in silence as the breeze rustled the forest's leaves.

Wendy stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye, and saw that he was just staring out at the trees.

"Sorry about earlier," he said suddenly, still staring straight ahead. "I'm just... Feelin' kinda grouchy today. Didn't get a lot of sleep. And Mabel–" he made a noise and took a sip of his soda. "She's my sister and I love her, but sometimes she just– acts... bleh." He lapsed back into silence.

Wendy thought about it, and then scooted slightly closer. Punching him lightly on the shoulder, she laughed. "You don't gotta tell me about siblings pissing you off dude, believe me, I get it." She laughed again, this time more quietly. "Sometimes I wanna strangle 'em, y'know? It's like they do everything they can to get under my skin, all while I'm bending over backwards to do all kinds of shit for 'em." She shrugged. "Or at least, that's how it feels."

Dipper gave her a small smile, one that really reached his tired eyes. "Yeah, that is how it feels."

Wendy held her soda out to him. "To the people who can piss us off best," she said with a smirk.

"To family," Dipper agreed, as he tapped her soda can with his.

Silence returned, but it was a comfortable one.

They sat together, almost close enough to touch, both of them enjoying their soda, and the breeze, and each other's company. They saw a van arrive at the Shack, and watched Candy and Grenda leave for the night. They swatted mosquitoes that pestered them, and they smiled every time their eyes met.

It was totally normal.

Almost.