Here's a long chapter for you. Eat it up!
Chapter Eleven: Cupid's Arrow
Grandpa Auldman hadn't even been in Gravity Falls for five minutes and Pacifica could already see the prison bars raising around her.
He'd managed to make the place his own the minute he walked through the door, immediately ordering her father to make him some coffee and taking a seat in the recliner next to the fireplace. Everything about him annoyed Pacifica. He represented the very thing she wanted to escape from. High-class society. Straight posture, hands neatly folded on his knees, and an expertly crafted judgmental stare.
Her mother, as usual, offered no input to the discussion and remained outside on the porch, while her dad scrambled to pour a steaming cup of black liquid that Pacifica could smell from her position between the grandiose kitchen and the cathedral-like living room. A fifteen-foot difference that felt like fifty to her. Three points of a chaotic crossroad about to collide and burn.
"So, Preston, when we spoke on the phone, you were vague about what exactly happened to cause your downfall." Auldman surveyed the room with half-lidded eyes, "I do believe a triangle was mentioned, though."
Her dad shuffled over to him, pinching the scalding mug between careful fingertips, "Let's just say it was a...bad investment. I didn't really have a choice."
Auldman held the mug by its handle but didn't take a sip, "A bad investment, eh? Understandable. What's done is done, and all we can do now is look to the future."
Pacifica felt like an intruder. Or rather, a faraway observer catching sight of a triple shooting star. Her father...nervous. Two words that couldn't be on farther opposing ends of the spectrum. She'd heard the 'there's always a bigger fish' claim before, but never thought it could apply here.
"S-So-" Preston stumbled, then cleared his throat, "What exactly are we going to do to fix this? I have a few ideas that could be decent-"
"Toss those. From here on, I make all the decisions, and my first decision is to start small and work our way up. To run, you must first learn to walk."
"I'm not sure I understand."
Auldman continued speaking as if this were no longer a conversation but rather a key note speech, "I believe a home says a lot about a man's character. This here...it's cozy, sure, but it doesn't really fit the Northwest brand. I think it's time we reclaimed the old manor."
Both Pacifica and Preston craned their heads forward in shock. Pacifica, because she knew if that were to happen, they'd have to kick out a robot-building, crazy old hillbilly. Not just that, she didnt even want to go back to that place.
"Someone's living there," She blurted, "An old hillbilly. He's probably not willing to sell." Which isn't even a lie. McGicker or whatever he's called is so looney he's probably forgotten the concept of financial transactions.
Auldman sat the mug down on the table next to the recliner, having never taken a single sip of the coffee still, "Dear, if you offer the right amount, anyone will sell. Come with me, let's have a talk with this hillbilly."
"Wait, me? Right now?"
"Was I talking to anyone else?" He studied her, like an interested customer in a pet shop, trying to find a champion breed. "Valuable lessons like these will make you a fine successor to our family's business. Besides, it's not like you have anywhere to be. You've been relieved of your waitressing duties, remember?"
Pacifica glared at him, doing her best to bite her tongue. Any remark or pushback would only make her life worse. If she knew one thing about her grandfather, he seldom heard the word no.
Just play along for now.
"Yes, grandfather."
"Good. Preston, stay here and keep an eye on your wife."
Her father looked like he'd been stunned by a taser, "You don't want me with you?"
Auldman never faltered, responding over his shoulder, "It's best if your daughter and I handle this one. Just sit tight, it won't take long." Next to his hip, his fingers made a circling motion towards his two security guards, "Close the door."
Pacifica trailed behind him, shadows looming beside her as the two goons moved from their statue position next to the front door, one of them closing it shut. For such big guys, they blended in well.
"Why isn't he coming?" She asked curiously, "I thought the whole point was to 'teach him a lesson' or whatever."
"Oh, your father is learning a lesson. Just as you will soon." His chuckle unnerved her. It wasn't one of joy. "I'll make Northwests out of you yet."
She didn't like the sound of that, but her feet kept moving towards the limo against her better judgement.
"Man...you have no idea how good it feels to be summoned! I've been cramped in that void dimension for like a hundred years!"
The result of Dipper's summoning floated across the room to look in a tall, vertical mirror laying against Mabel's side of the room, stretching each limb and flexing when he saw himself. Or rather 'itself.' Do deities have genders? Dipper didn't know. The love god sounded like a nineteen-twenties radio host, so it was probably safe to say 'he.'
"Huh, so I haven't changed," he said, "Sort of hard to tell when you're floating between time and space. It's pitch black in there!"
If he didn't regret performing the ritual before, he definitely did now. Summoning other worldly beings usually never ends well, and he didn't remember a counter-ritual written down in the journal to put this thing back. Would he just disappear after the work was done? Slip back into the void?
Poor Mabel looked like her head was going to explode. She had barely recovered from the mini-explosion set off from the summoning, and now she sat on her rear, mouth agape as she watched Cupid himself hover around their shared room.
"So...many...questions!" She snatched Dipper's arm, "Blah! I can't even process them all! It's a heart! A heart man!"
Cupid swiveled around, shooting a finger gun at her, "I've got a lot of names, kiddo, but you can call me Cupid! Were you the one that summoned me?"
She released the death grip on his arm, shaking her head out of her momentary awe. A good thing. Dipper was afraid for a moment she might enter her smile dip state again. "Wait, Cupid? Like the plushy baby with the bow and arrow?"
Cupid laughed, "Yeah, I get that a lot! Truth is I can appear as just about anything!" To prove his point, he completely morphed his shape and color to fit Mabel's idea, essentially matching the appearance a pint-sized Time Baby, with a little bow and arrow made of pink energy materializing next to him. "I can do this, or-" Another change. This time to a very tall, muscular, bearded man wearing a toga, "-A classic god look, or-" Then another, this time switching genders altogether, appearing as an incredibly beautiful women with brown hair and entrancing eyes, also wearing a rather revealing toga. "-This one's a personal favorite! It's when I used to go by Aphrodite back in the day!"
Dipper could hardly keep up. This was nowhere near what he expected when he read the journal entry. Although he's not sure exactly what he expected to begin with. Maybe something less...over the top?
"Uh...I think the first one's good," Dipper said nervously, "Let's go with that."
"Suit yourself!" As fast as a blink, the first form was back, and Cupid was grinning again, flashing blindingly white teeth. "So, which one of you had the desperation to call me?"
Dipper didn't even want to claim responsibility now. This was all too weird. He got too carried away in his own head he jumped the gun and went extreme. But he did what he did, he might as well get his money's worth.
He kept his gaze away from Mabel, "I did. I summoned you."
Mabel's bewildered stare pierced his peripheral, "Wait, you brought him here? How? Why?"
"Using the journals. The uh, fourth one, to be specific." He didn't answer the why part, knowing that Mabel would be hurt he didn't come to her about Pacifica.
She didn't have time to add on, Cupid was already pressing again, "Well, you made the right choice! When it comes to romance, I'm the expert. I can do just about anything you want. And hey, since you caught me in a good mood, I'll even do it for free!"
Dipper didn't even want to ask what kind of payment he took. He got the sneaking suspicion it wasn't any human currency, though.
"What'll it be? Spiking their drink with a love potion? Shooting an arrow in their back and making them immediately fall for you? Snapping my fingers and making every woman on Earth find you irresistible? I can make it short-term or long-term, too. I know some of you humans like the slow burn, even though I don't understand it. You only live like seventy years! You gotta make it quick!"
With each offer, Dipper's face tightened more and more. This was exactly what he feared. "No, man! I don't want any of that get-quick stuff! I just wanted some advice! Like...a plan!"
"Advice?" Cupid's excited tone dwindled, "That's not really my thing, kiddo. There's humans that can give you that. Heck, I can give you a thousand phone numbers right now. Or hey, there's someone in this very room that would be perfect!" Outstretching his hand toward Mabel, he closed his eyes and paused for a moment, then opened them again enthusiastically, "Oh yes! Your sister has a very romantic spirit!"
Great. Now Dipper wanted to curl up and toss himself in the bottomless pit. Even Cupid is telling him he messed up.
"Dipper..." Mabel murmured, "Is this about Pacifica?"
He could only stare at the floor when he responded, "Maybe...okay, yes. I'm sorry, I just-"
"Just what? Thought I would get crazy and go overboard? So you summoned literal Cupid instead of just asking me for help?! This is overboard!" Quickly though, her curiosity betrayed her, "And so cool. Honestly, I can't even be mad. We have Cupid in our room! He could make the love of my life appear in front of me right now!"
Cupid cackled, his voice echoing eerily. A lot like another certain shape he didn't want to think about.
"Sure could! Want me to?"
Mabel lurched forward, her voice inches from bursting confirmation, but something held her back. She made a pained face, "Ah! I don't wanna spoil it! Just show him to me from the neck down! No, wait, neck up! No, wait, just describe him to me! HOW OLD IS HE?!"
Cupid went down the list, tapping his fingers with each verbal bullet point, "Fourteen, blue eyes, tan skin, tall for a kid, and blonde. Oh, and he's got these funny freckles that look like constellations!"
Mabel's eyes turned starry, "Freckles? Blonde hair? He sounds so HOT!"
"Sure! In a skin puppet sort of way. Anywho, back to the boy! Shake my hand, kid!"
Dipper hesitated. He knew better than to just shake hands with any willy-nilly gods or demons.
"Why?"
"Memory transfer. Or more like your memories into my head! Not mine into yours! Heh, your brain would probably pop! But seriously, I'll just gather the romantic stuff."
Dipper's hand was already half-outstretched, but he fully intended on snapping it back and ending this whole thing. Cupid must've sensed this, because he quickly wrapped his larger hand around Dipper's and shook it. A tiny pink spark crackled above their clasped limbs to seal the deal.
"And...got it! Heh, not the best track record, huh? I can see why you'd need advice!"
"Yeah, uh, maybe we shouldn't-"
"Nonsense! I know just what the problem is! You're afraid you'll mess up! Easy fix! You just have to face your fears and conquer them the old-fashioned way!"
"By hugging it out?" Mabel asked.
"Nope!"
"Hypnotic therapy?" Dipper suggested.
"Wrong again! You're gonna fight to the death against physical representations of loves past and present!"
Dipper and Mabel looked at each other.
"Wait, what?"
Pacifica was beginning to understand why Dipper grabbed at his stupid hat so much. Right now, she wished she had one to move around and block her view of Grandpa Auldman.
Of course, it had to be made more awkward when the two gorilla men closed off the luxury section of the limo from the front, leaving her in uncomfortable silence with the guy.
At least the vehicle itself was spacious and comfortable. Pretty much dwarfing any limo her dad ever owned, its height cleared Auldman's head by nearly an entire foot, it's width wide enough so they could both sit on opposite ends of the leather seat and fit four people between them. It smelled of fresh seat cleaner and cologne that wafted around with the low volume air conditioning. Small, tinted windows lined each side, allowing the now fully risen sun to paint the rest of the circular seat in yellow. When Pacifica glanced out of the right-side pane, the dark green of the endless pine trees blurred together. On the left side, the tree line ended, instead, the old manor and the hill it sat on. From here, it looked no different than when her family lived in it.
Nothing had been said the entire ride. Auldman didn't seem to mind. He sat still and proper, keeping his wolf stare glued to the window facing the manor. Pacifica might as well have not even come along. She was more than willing to hop out right now and walk, if that's the case. She didn't even care if she got dirt on her shoes, which says a lot.
Finally, words enter the aether, "I remember you being more talkative when you were younger."
She's quick to snap back, "What am I supposed to say? Thanks for getting rid of my job? Thanks for taking me back to the nightmare I used to live in? No way."
Auldman laughed humorlessly, "Over two hundred rooms, one hundred and fifty thousand square feet, one of the largest mansions in America, and you call it a nightmare? I can't help but be impressed at your transformation. What on Earth happened to the Pacifica I used to know?"
"She died. You must've missed the funeral."
"Please. Do you honestly think the life you have now is better than your old one? Before, you had all the money in the world at your disposal. Any item of clothing you wanted, any type of gourmet food you liked...and ten ponies! Now, you have no ponies. I thought little girls liked ponies."
"Little girls like not being controlled like a puppet."
He scoffed, "No one is controlling you. You're just being reminded of why life as a Northwest is glorious."
Pacifica crossed her legs, huffing, "More like lame and boring."
A gravitational weight pressed against her as the limo made a left turn on the driveway connecting the road to the manor. She felt herself tilting backwards with the natural elevation of the rising hill. Every time Pacifica came down this road, it reminded her of a roller coaster. Or at least, what she imagined one to be like. She'd never actually been to an amusement park before.
She has vivid memories of herself as a little kid standing on limo seats like these and peering through the window to stare at the rolling hills below the manor's perch. She remembers smiling at its beauty before getting scolded.
They're halfway up the hill when Auldman speaks again, "This hillbilly. What can I expect?"
Pacifica, outside of temporarily holding his hand in that weird circle, had very little interaction with McGicker, or whatever his name is. She always dismissed him as some crazy old hermit. Speaking nonsense and performing weird southern dances.
However, when she saw his contribution toward building the Shack-A-Tron, she knew that hidden beneath that senile brain, sat a core foundation of intelligence.
"How should I know? I'm not the human resources department for the town."
"Lovely attitude."
Pacifica sighed, "He's like...a hundred years old, and he speaks nonsense most of the time, but he's good at building stuff."
Despite that being a vague explanation, Auldman nodded, satisfied. "I see."
Soon enough, the limo stopped without Pacifica realizing, nearly jumping in her seat when the security guard on the passenger side opened the door for her.
She and Auldman stepped out into the fresh summer day. The sun was bright and blinding above, but had lost all its heat to the wind, now blowing Pacifica's long mane against her shoulder and wrapping around her upper arm. It takes an aggravated flip to get it out of the way.
Before them, there's the manor. The only place, for twelve years, Pacifica called home. Even longer for her parents. Beyond the walls, it didn't seem to have changed much. It still sat tall and vast, looming over the entire town like a wooden giant, holding a crushing blow over everyone's head threateningly, while it laughs.
"Good to be back," she says with obvious sarcasm. The darn wind is blowing her hair again. She's getting more annoyed by the second.
Auldman's tone is the opposite. It's genuine happiness. "Indeed it is. Follow me."
They clear the short distance between the luxury vehicle and the front gates. Now she can't say it's the same as before, because she sees something she didn't notice at first glance. The crazy old hillbilly has done something new with the place. Standing parallel to each other at the tops of each gate post, are two large cameras attached to zig zagging metal rods. Her and Auldman must have set off a sensor, because once they reached a certain distance, the machines sprang to life and thrust themselves at their faces.
Pacifica squinted. Nothing looked back at her but a green static screen. It didn't seem to be intended as a two-way.
"Howdy!" A muffled, twanged voice burst from a small speaker above the screen, "What ya'll fellers doin' here?"
Auldman retrieved a white glove from his inner pocket, placed it on his hand, all to push away the camera a few inches with his index finger. "Yes sir, my name is Auldman Northwest. I'm here to discuss business with the owner of this property. I'm assuming that's you?"
"Darn tootin'! Let me just open up the gate and let ya'll in! You'll find me in the front yard makin' tweaks to the robut!"
As quick as they came, the cameras shot back to their original positions. Pacifica looked up at Auldman, who furrowed his thick eyebrows, utterly confused.
"Did he say robot?"
"I...think so?"
The gates groaned open, pivoting slowly in the familiar pattern Pacifica had seen hundreds of times. It was like opening a rift from the present to the past. Or more specifically, what she considered to be a past life.
All the various sized robots and gadgets helped distract her from the manor. The old man went to town with the inventions after moving in. All across the courtyard, on the grass, in the bushes, sitting on the concrete, even sitting in the fountain, were robots. Everything from humanoid to prehistoric, some unfinished and obviously cybernetic, others very life-like and convincing. As they searched, Pacifica felt like she'd entered an alternate plane of existence. The walls caging her in. The memories hitting her with each step. She heard ghostly sounds of a shrill hand bell so convincing; she flinched.
"There he is," Auldman announced. To their left, two dirty bare feet protruded from underneath the leg of a sitting robot wearing a polka dotted maid outfit. As they made their way toward him, Auldman, for the first time looked a bit uncomfortable.
"I forgot how strange this town is," He muttered. "Sir!"
Something clanged beneath the robo-leg. Likely the old hillbilly's head. "Agh! I'm comin', I'm comin'!"
When he emerged, he rolled out on a mechanic's trolley, clad in stained brown overalls and nothing underneath. His beard covered most of his torso, his eyes were hidden behind what looked like night-vision goggles.
For several moments, nothing happened. The wind blew again.
Finally, a wrinkly finger came up toward Pacifica, "Now, wait a darn minute! I recognize you! Yer that little lady that wore the potato sack durin' the apocalypse!"
Pacifica ducked her head to the side, a burning heat rising up her neck. "That wasn't me! Crazy...old man!"
She could practically feel her grandfather's questioning gaze, but he chose to ignore the reference, putting out his hand, "Auldman Northwest. Pleased to meet you, Mister..."
"McGucket!" He made to shake Auldman's hand, but ripped it back at the last second to break out into a quick jig, slapping at his knee and hollering. As if nothing happened, he grabbed the hand and shook it firmly. "Whoo! Sorry bout' that, sometimes my body just can't help but jig! Fiddleford Hadron McGucket! Owner of McGucket Computermajigs!"
Auldman played along, "Impressive! I'm deeply sorry to intrude on your work, but I don't often visit Gravity Falls, and I just had to come by my old home."
McGicker- McGucket, cocked his head, removing his goggles. "Oh, so that name on the front of the gate actually meant somethin'? I thought that was just decoration!"
"No, sir, that's my family's crest. Why, I remember growing up here as a boy, playing in the yard, running around with my friends, walking those halls...it brings back a lot of good memories. Mr. McGucket, can I ask something crazy?"
Fiddleford flashed a (nearly) full toothed grin, "I say crazy stuff all the time!"
Auldman placed a hand on McGucket's shoulder, "Would you be willing to sell this property back to me?"
"Hmm...nope! No can do! I like it here! Besides, I gotta have space for the robuts!"
The entire performance was Oscar-worthy. Pacifica had to admit, she'd seen her father swindle poor souls and talk his way into deals, but Auldman may have him beat. Albeit, old man McGucket isn't a worthy prey, but considering how cold her grandfather's been since his arrival, to put on such a convincing nice act is impressive.
He continued with it, "Ah, I understand. You acquired this place fair and square. It's rude of me to barge in like this and make such a request. Forgive me, sir, have a good day." With a pat to the shoulder, Auldman turned and motioned for Pacifica to follow him, "Come, Pacifica, let's leave this gentleman alone."
She knew what came next. Five steps into their departure, Auldman whipped back around, "However, I...forgive me, I'm just so overwhelmed with sentiment at the moment. Perhaps I'm being hasty, but I have a strong feeling that I must persist. I'll pay you handsomely!"
McGucket said nothing, which Auldman took as a good sign, grabbing a small white card and a pen faster than a magician doing a trick. He scribbled down something in the center and passed it to McGucket.
"How does that look?"
McGucket's eyes went wide, "That's a lot of zeroes!"
"And as for 'robut' space, I can accommodate. The current Northwest property sits in the middle of an open field eight miles from here. Land as far as the eye can see. How about I throw that in for free, on top of that number I just gave you."
Pacifica gave more of a reaction to that than Fiddleford, gawking up at Auldman. "What?! Are you insane?!"
"Quiet," He growled.
McGucket hummed in thought. Pacifica couldn't believe he was actually considering this. But to be fair, she didn't catch a glimpse of the amount written on the card.
"Can I take a look at the cabin?"
Auldman's grin sent chills down her spine. He knew he'd won. She hated it. Everything was changing. Reverting back to the way it was before. A life before the twins.
And there's nothing she can do about it.
"B-But this place is way better than the cabin!" She protested, "Look at the size of the mansion! T-There's a bowling alley!"
McGucket shrugged, "Long as I got space for the robuts, I should be good! This here number should give me fundin' for the next few years!" He ignored Pacifica from then on, joining Auldman in walking toward the front gate, "Let's take a look!"
"Yes, sir! Pacifica, come along."
If she could harness her rage into a coursing aura, it would spread and destroy the entire manor. She barely managed to keep it contained through clenched fists and a seething exhale.
"I hate this."
"Pacifica, let's go!"
To make matters worse, the wind messed her hair up again. Wonderful.
Things went from bad to worse when Cupid spawned in his minions.
His glowing skin stretched, humanoid silhouettes and hands pushed and struggled like aliens trying to escape their skin pod. It was even grosser when they actually emerged. Split image clones of just about every crush and potential love interest of Dipper's stood next to Cupid, pink slime dripping from their clothes and simultaneously popping their knuckles. Wendy and Pacifica stood at his left, Nicki Martinez and Mabel's Piedmont friend Jess on the right, each of them smiling menacingly, their eyes without pupils.
They all looked so convincing; it sent a sensation of ice water down his back. They even wore the exact same clothes from the last time he saw them. To be honest, if he looked on the bright side, at least the girls from that revenge road trip didn't appear. It would probably overwhelm he and Mabel even more.
"Okay..." Mabel backed up a step, "I don't like this guy anymore."
"Me either. Deal's off, Cupid! I don't want any more help!"
Cupid giggled, "Oh, but you need it so desperately! I can't just leave without seeing one of my clients conquer their fear of romance! Trust me, this is one of the best methods, just go with it!"
Before they could protest any further, the slimy clones began charging at them, their crazed faces never changing.
All four 'girls' went after Dipper, but thankfully Mabel stepped in to help, tackling Nicki and Jess to the ground and managing to hold them there.
"Jess...it's...me! Stop it, ya dummy!"
"It's not actually her!" Fake Wendy pulled out an axe from nowhere, swinging it at Dipper. He barely avoided it. "It's Cupid messing with us!"
The two clones got the better of Mabel and overpowered her, pushing her off with their legs. "They look so real, though! Jess even has that scented marker smell on her!"
"Ignore it!" Dipper weaved around another axe swing, the metal coming dangerously close to swiping his head that time. "We have to work together to beat them!"
Mabel ducked between a grab attempt from Nicki and Jess, rolling on the ground and coming up on one knee, glaring at him, "Oh, so now you trust me to help? How could you go to the stinking journals before me?"
Fake Wendy used both hands this time on the swing. Dipper waited for the last second to dive out of the way. The axe sunk into the wall next to the doorway so much that Fake Wendy became distracted trying to pull it out. Now he could shift his full attention to Fake Pacifica, who had her fingernails out, ready to scratch him like a cat.
"I'm sorry! I was just desperate! I got in my own way again and I found this stupid note from the new author telling me to look at one of their entries, and-"
"Wait," Mabel interrupted, "This was the new author's idea?!"
Fake Pacifica grabbed Dipper by the shoulders, sinking her fingers into the dips above his collarbone. He howled in pain. Her deceptively abundant strength shocked him again. The pressing pain was like one of a burning iron rod.
"Ah! Knock it off, man! I don't want your help anymore!"
Cupid wagged his finger, "You'll thank me for this later, buddy! It's all part of the process. If you can beat her in combat, you should have no trouble asking her out!"
Fake Pacifica took advantage of the distraction and swept Dipper off his feet, knocking him to the ground and planting a knee on his chest, sufficiently cutting movement for breathing.
"Though from the looks of it, you aren't beating her in combat any time soon," Cupid commented. "Maybe you should take lessons from my old buddy Ares!"
Fake Pacifica fought like a demon, swatting away Dipper's attempts to throw her off and sinking her talon-like fingers deep in his neck. Water built up in the corners of his eyes, circulation cut off to the entirety of his head, he could feel himself slowly fading to black...
Then, the pressure eased all at once.
Mabel somehow got away from the tussle with her school buddies and caught 'Facifica' by surprise, yanking her shoulder and raising a curled fist at face level.
"You're not the real her, so I have no problem doing this! Night night!" Save for some gnomes and other small creatures, Mabel has seldom punched anything, let alone another girl. But this blow came with the speed and force of a professional boxer, knocking Facifica's head back and crumpling her to the floor.
Mabel winced, flapping her hand back and forth, "Ow! Who knew violence hurt so much?"
Dipper shot up to his feet and grabbed Mabel's hand, "Let's go!"
"Where?!"
Not really knowing himself, he swiveled his head around the room, trying his best to find a hiding spot before the clones wised up and came at them simultaneously. His eyes found a wooden structure near the corner of the room on Mabel's side. A closet she keeps some of her sweaters in. It looked big enough for two teens. Maybe.
"There! The closet!"
Mabel didn't protest. Everything happened in a blur. He didn't even remember opening the door, just the four foot leap and impact they made when they hit the wooden interior.
The doors shut and everything went pitch black. Fists and palms pounded and slapped at the door mindlessly, each one rumbling the closet like a clothes dryer.
His eyes were beginning to adjust, improving from seeing absolutely nothing to shapes. Mabel's shape, maybe her arms, shifted and pulled something over her head, something fuzzy fell over his lap then disappeared to make a ruffling noise at his right.
"What are you doing?"
"Using my sweater as a lock," She explained, "It should keep the creepazoids out."
"That's...actually really resourceful. Nice thinking."
Mabel finished the sweater knot with a jerk, falling back against the closet frame and sighing wearily, "I have my moments."
"Why's it so hot in here?" Dipper asked, wiping his forehead. It hadn't been a full minute and little beads of sweat were already budding from his pores.
"The sweaters?" Mabel guessed, "The frizz creates a bunch of electricity." To prove it, she reached up and poked a loose sleeve, pulling her hand back when a white crackle bit at her. She chuckled, "Zap! That stings!"
Dipper shook his head, "Look, Mabel...I'm sorry I didn't come to you for help with Pacifica."
"It's fine."
"No, it's not. You and me...we're supposed to go to each other with stuff like this, and instead I trusted that stupid author and summoned a love god like a jerk."
"Been there, broseph. If you think back, you'll remember I too had a little love god incident."
The closet shook again, more useless pulling against the sweater lock proved futile. They both ignored it. Dipper knew a sincere sibling moment was afoot. He had to tell her the truth.
"I guess...I don't know, I got so excited by the idea that a girl might actually like me back for once, I went overboard trying to make sure I wouldn't mess it up. Hence...love gods and trusting a creepy stranger."
"Well maybe I can still help. What were you thinking? Big and all out with a white stallion and a night in Paris? Or low-key casual with a good ole' romcom?"
Dipper grabbed at his hat and entered a sitting fetal position, "Ugh, I don't know! That's the whole problem! My mind is so scattered when it comes to Pacifica!"
"Okay, calm down, calm down, your amazing sister is here to help. Think; What's your favorite thing about Pacifica?"
The question catches him off guard, "What? How does that help?"
"Just go with it. Brainstorm with me, man!"
Figuring this is better than the wild alternative currently outside trying to kill them, he pondered the thought. His favorite thing? Several answers came and went immediately, but one stuck.
It came out in past tense, "I miss how easy it was to be around her. It never felt awkward, it never felt like I had to impress her or be someone else...I never cared about her reputation, and now she doesn't either, so it should be even easier, but it's not, it's harder than it's ever been and I don't know why."
"Of course you don't," Mabel said casually, "You're so caught up in that big nerd brain you can't see the forest for the leaves!"
"Forest for the trees."
"That's what I said! Point is, you're acting like you still have to impress her, when I'll bet my left arm that Pacifica doesn't even care about grand gestures like that. It's probably part of the reason she likes you."
"So you're saying I don't need to potentially rent a carriage?"
"Heck no! Pacifica wants something different than what she's used to, and that's you! You could be all awkward, sweaty and Dipper-y, but I doubt she'd care. She's gonna say yes no matter what."
Dipper leaned forward, lightly resting his elbows on his thighs. He didn't even think about things from Pacifica's end. After all, she's the one that gave him the number, she's the one that asked him for help with the were-squirrels in the first place, and she's the one that hugged him. This whole time, he thought he had to earn her approval and affection through big, fancy gestures, but he was too stupid to see that he's already won her over. She's just waiting for him to get his butt in gear and make a move. Any kind of move.
"You're right," He admitted, "Pacifica resents her parents and her old lifestyle so much, she's not looking for some prince to sweep her off her feet, she's looking for-"
"You," Mabel finishes. "My brotha!" Even though Dipper still can't fully see her, he can feel her rumbling with excitement. "My new bestie and my brotha! Cuteness overload!"
Dipper chuckled. It was funny how with just a few words and insights, Mabel had calmed his nerves exponentially and opened his blind eyes to the blaring truth that had been dangling in front of him. He felt ready. He felt like he could march out of the Shack right now and do it.
If only stupid Cupid and his clone minions would take a hike.
"What are we gonna do about our heart-shaped friend?" He asked.
Mabel got up to her knees, "What we always do. Work together and overwhelm him with our combined power. Mystery Twin bump?"
He saw the shape of her fist enter the air between them. Dipper smiled, placing his knuckles against hers.
"Let's do it."
Mabel quickly undid the sweater knot and Dipper kicked the closet doors open, knocking back their attackers. All four clones stood in front of them for a few moments, locked in a staredown. Cupid came up to hover behind them, unbothered by the twins' newfound vigor.
"Finally decided to come out and face the music, eh?" He laughed, "Now we're making progress!"
From the other side of the attic, the cracked door opened wide, revealing a baffled, bathrobe-clad Grunkle Stan.
"What the heck's going on in here?! I heard an axe go through my wall!"
Without looking, Cupid pointed his finger towards the door and shot a pink wave of energy, "Butt out, old man!" The wave smacked the door and sent it slamming shut with such force it threw their Grunkle in the hall and more than likely, clean through the opposing wall, leaving behind a Stan-shaped hole.
"Agh, my back!"
Everyone ignored the intrusion. Dipper and Mabel jumped from the closet and landed on their feet, squaring up with their shoulders high.
Dipper pointed at him, "I know what your whole deal is now. You feed off of people's desperation. That's what makes you strong. But what happens when you don't have any desperation to absorb?"
"You get split right down the middle!" Mabel answered, smacking her fist against her palm, "You're about to be a broken heart! Literally!"
If Cupid was nervous, he didn't reveal it. He just chuckled casually, "Interesting theory. Why don't you come test it out?" With a snap of his fingers, the clones sprang to life again, "Show them how much love really hurts!"
Fake Nicki, Jess, Wendy, and Pacifica soundlessly bounded toward them with unified force, but Dipper and Mabel were ready for whatever they threw at them. At the forefront, Fake Wendy lifted her axe behind her head, telegraphing an attempt at both their heads, an attempt they managed to duck under.
While Mabel pried the axe from Fake Wendy's grip, Dipper used all of his strength to topple her over with a momentous push. Either through the slight slant of the attic or newfound strength of puberty, it worked, Fake Wendy fell on her back and Mabel gained possession of the axe.
"Don't hesitate!" He ordered, "Remember, it's not her!"
"Way ahead of you!"
Mabel used both hands to bring the axe down on Fake Wendy's chest, bringing it over her head in an arc as if she were testing her strength at the carnival. Despite the metal looking duller than the wheels on the golf cart, it cleaved through Fake Wendy's chest easily, rendering her a puddle of pink goo.
The small victory filled Mabel with battle lust, "WHO'S NEXT?!"
"Be careful what you wish for!" Cupid said, snapping his fingers again, "Focus on her, girls!"
The remaining three shifted their focus, hounding on her in an instant. Dipper turned to see her swinging the tool around wildly, temporarily keeping them at bay.
"You okay?!" He shouted.
"I've got this! Pummel that giant heart!"
Dipper faced Cupid, who now floated higher off the ground, almost at the exact point of the sunbeam filled window in the center of the wall. He had his hands folded behind his back, unbothered.
"You let your sister do all the fighting?" Cupid shook his entire body from side to side, since he didn't really have a head. "If so, you aren't going to learn your lesson, kid!"
"I already learned my lesson. You don't wanna help anyone. You're just trying to mess with people."
The overexaggerated, cheery tone disappeared, all niceties foregone. Cupid eyes creased menacingly, his red glow turning a dark shade. "It took you this long to figure that out? How would you feel if your source of power stopped believing in you? Humans are all the same. They get all excited about one thing then jump to the next flashy religion! One water into wine trick and bam, homeless pacifist gets all popular!"
Dipper didn't even try to unpack the mythological ramifications of that sentence. It didn't matter at the moment. "So? That's no excuse to try and kill two teens!"
Cupid's voice became demonic, "Yes it is! After all we did for you sacks of meat, you threw us away like trash! You have no idea what love means!"
"Maybe not," Dipper agreed, "I'm still figuring it out. And I definitely don't need you to help."
"Arrogant brat!" Cupid roared. Before Dipper knew it, the flying heart was on top of him, lifting him off the ground and tossing him like a sack of potatoes.
A hammering pain washed over him when he hit the window frame and fell on his face, like hydraulic presses poking him with all the force behind the steel mechanics. He hadn't been hurt this much since Bill Cipher threw him into a tree.
He stood up shakily, his legs numb, his vision foggy. He had no time or cognizance to anticipate the oncoming assault. Cupid's body collided with his like a semi-truck and sent them both crashing through the triangle shaped window, glass shattering around them and descending with equal speed, surrounding them in dangerous shards.
Cupid had him by the shoulders, unable to move his upper body. This delighted the crazed deity, "Think your last miserable human thoughts, boy! I'm cutting your seventy-five years short!"
Dipper didn't retort. Instead, he chose to spend the four seconds before impact thinking of how to avoid becoming a pancake. Or at the very least, thirteen-year-old comatose male.
All options seemed implausible but one. Using his legs momentum, he kicked at the air and completely switched positions, spinning around until Cupid was on the bottom and vulnerable. By the time the stunt was pulled, they had reached the ground.
Thankfully, the god didn't burst on impact and acted more as a trampoline than a concrete landing pad. Dipper sunk into his chest and bounced back up, skipping across the grass until stopping flat on his back, the sun blinding his corneas.
Dipper coughed up something. Probably blood. It would take a week to get over the pulsating pain creeping down his arms and shoulders-oh, especially his shoulders. Ouch.
It wasn't done yet. Cupid's strained voice came from beside him ten feet away, "Ohhhh, nice one! That actually hurt!"
Dipper figured he could spend his energy now and recover later. It took all of his remaining battery power to push himself up. Cupid was doing the same, noticeably weakened with dark burgundy cracks covering his entire body. He imagined the lack of genuine belief in Greek gods in the modern age effected his power, and now it was at an all-time low. If this had been during ancient times, it wouldn't be a contest.
Coming up to his feet, Dipper wiped the blood from his lips and raised his fists.
Cupid made a horrible noise between a guffaw and a snicker, "That's the spirit! Show me what you've got!"
He had no idea what would happen once that was put to the test. A strong gust of wind would topple Dipper over at this point. But he's faced worse. Much worse. He wouldn't let this sorry excuse of a weird threat beat him.
Correction; Them. He's reminded quickly that he's not alone in any of this. Mabel poked her head out of the broken window, "We've got this!"
Somewhere in the attic fight, the axe handle had been broken in half, leaving the stump full of centers and the tool much easier to carry. Easy enough for Mabel to pitch it like a tomahawk. The steel glinted in the sun each time it spun around, finally reaching the little dip in Cupid's heart head with perfect precision.
A ring of pink energy radiated from him and wisped away at the tree line. Cupid's red glow dimmed, the already forming cracks getting deeper with each second.
"This...isn't over!" He fell to his knees, "The gods will come back one day and rise aga-" The declaration was cut short when he fell flat on his face, his entire body morphing into a pile of flowers on impact. Just like that, he was gone. Now having nothing to attach itself to, the axe fell on its side.
Along with Dipper. He let a triumphant half-smile grace his mouth and then he collapsed, the world beginning to fade, but not enough for him to miss Mabel's concerned voice calling his name.
The next time he came to, it may have been ten seconds later or fifteen minutes. He registered his head resting on something soft, a pillow maybe, and Mabel's face hovering by his side, Grunkle Stan on the opposite, leaning and squinting at him.
"Ugh..." He moaned, "...Ow! Ow, pain all over, pain all over."
"He's alive!" Mabel celebrated.
Grunkle Stan grunted, offering as much sympathy as expected from him, "Glad you didn't bite the dust, kid. Now explain to me what the heck happened and why the attic window is broken!"
Mabel ignored him, rapidly running her finger down his torso in a poking frenzy, "Any broken bones? Tell me if this hurts."
"Ow!" He had enough mobility in his hand to swat hers away, "I'll be fine! Just a week of soreness, that's all. I can still move everything."
"Good," Grunkle Stan said, "You can help Soos fix the window."
Mabel grinned down at him, "You know what you have to do now, right bro-bro?"
Dipper closed his eyes, "Yeah. Just give me like two hours. I keep seeing these white dots. Is that normal?"
McGucket walked out of his new cabin, hooting happily and waving a fat check.
"Welp, I'll be seein' ya'll fellers tomorrow! Expect a lot of robuts to be transported!"
"Of course, sir!" Auldman clapped him on the back, leading him off the front porch, "It was a pleasure doing business with you!"
With a final wave goodbye, McGucket disappeared into the limo with Auldman's security guards, accepting the free ride back to the manor thrown in with purchasing the smaller property.
Pacifica watched from the living room couch as her grandfather's entire demeanor changed. The polite front melted into a fiery smugness. He laughed to himself, whipping the door shut behind him.
"What a fool. Hard to believe he can invent such terrifying machinery."
Preston shifted nervously on the fireplace adjacent recliner, "Not to question your methods, father, but...is it really appropriate to call him the fool? I mean, the amount you gave him is absurd! You threw in this property for free! You know how the market is during summer. This place could've sold for millions!"
If Auldman took any offense to his questioning, Pacifica didn't notice. "I had to sweeten the deal, Preston. Besides, it's not like I gambled the money away or put it all down on the hope a demonic triangle won't kill me. I made a good investment. We have the manor back now, consider this a victory."
Preston nodded uneasily, quickly changing his tune. "Yes, I suppose it is. Isn't this great, Pacifica? We get to move back into the manor."
Pacifica had no energy or willpower to argue with either of them. It was proving useless. She shrugged with as much forced enthusiasm she could muster, "Yeah, whippee."
"I feel like having a celebratory smoke," Auldman announced, "Where do you keep your cigar collection?"
One of the many useless things her father hadn't been forced to sell when the family went bankrupt. Pacifica never understood the sentiment behind the gross things. They always made the living room smell.
"In my study," Her father replied, "First door on the right down the hall. I'll join you."
He started to get up, but Auldman put up a hand, seizing the notion. "A celebratory smoke for me, son, not you. I did all the work." He glanced at Pacifica, "With a bit of help, I suppose. Though I doubt your daughter enjoys Montecristo. A Gucci bag, perhaps?"
Pacifica shook her head, "Pass."
"Suit yourself." With that, he disappeared from the living room. Once out of earshot, her father sunk into his chair, closing his eyes as if the gun leveled to his head had just been withdrawn.
"Being around him feels like having a stroke."
"Then why'd you call him?" Pacifica asked, "He hasn't even been here a day and he's making everything worse."
"He's helping us, Pacifica," He argued, probably trying to convince himself more than her, "Whether either of us can see that right now or not, he is. My father didn't make as much money as he did because he's lucky. He did whatever it took, and that's what we need right now."
Pacifica crossed her arms, "That's what I'm afraid of."
Silence fell for a few moments. As blissful moments as they could be, like a lull between a vicious battle. Was this how it would feel from now on? Her and the rest of her family on edge twenty-four-seven? It hadn't even been twelve hours since his arrival, Pacifica couldn't imagine the entire summer continuing in a forced performance trying to please her grandfather. All for the sake of what, anyway? Money? Getting her old life back? She doesn't want any of that!
"NORTHWESTS!"
The voice was unmistakable. Even through the closed front door, it phased through and hit Pacifica's ears, bringing back a vivid memory of the Northwest party at the manor last summer.
Her father seemed to feel the same way, sitting up straight in his seat, "Did I just get Deja vu?"
Not ten seconds after the warcry, the front door flew open from a kick, revealing Dipper in the doorway, the afternoon sun behind him.
Pacifica couldn't even process what was going on, nor her emotions. She wanted to feel relieved, since the jerk hadn't texted her back all day. Angry, because the jerk hadn't texted her back all day. Happy, because finally, someone normal she can be around.
But she could only be utterly confused. Dipper looked a complete mess. His vest had blades of grass and twigs stuck to it, soil stains covering every visible inch of his orange shirt, and his hair sticking up in crazed clumps like a bird's nest. Despite that, he looked more determined than she'd ever seen him.
"Dipper?" Pacifica said, "What are you doing here? Why do you look so gross?"
Her mother's delayed warning came from the porch seat, "The Pines boy is here, hon."
Preston stood up from his recliner, his tone furious, "What the devil are you doing here, boy?! I thought I made it clear that you weren't to come near my daughter or this house again!"
Dipper didn't even look at him. He kept his sharp, brown eyes glued to her, an action that made her vision tunnel. Suddenly, he no longer looked like the nerd with his face stuck in that stupid journal, or the scrawny kid standing behind Mabel at the mini-golf course, or the awkward geek that couldn't even wear a suit right. He looked older than himself, and while Pacifica had always considered him cute on some level, right now he looked handsome. Dirt stains and all.
"This'll only take a minute," Dipper told her father, then took a couple of steps closer to her, "Pacifica, I came here because there's something I want to ask you. And tell you. Both, actually, it's sort of a two-for-one combo."
"Save it," Preston ordered, "You won't be asking her anything. Now get out!"
Dipper completely ignored him, making her father's skin turn red. "I know things have always been a little weird between us. I mean, it started off pretty rocky, then it sort of leveled out, then we became friends, and now..." He took in a deep breath, preparing himself for the next section of the declaration. Pacifica could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She had an idea of what he was doing. "...Now, it's more than that. At least, for me. I really like you, Pacifica."
She expected- no, hoped, to hear those words at some point this summer, but still somehow couldn't have anticipated how she would feel. It was a mix of excitement and dread. Dread, because this had been done in front of her father and it would make things so much more complicated, but so much excitement because finally.
Still, Pacifica could barely contain the smile threatening the corners of her lips, or the vulnerability in her voice, "Really?"
Dipper chuckled nervously, a bit of his initial confidence fading, "Yeah. Sure, you're bossy, kind of spoiled, and your hair's probably not really blonde, but...yeah, I really like you. And I was hoping maybe you'd want to hang out sometime? Like a date. A totally non-lame, exciting, romantic date."
Before Pacifica could quell her giddiness and feint a less enthusiastic response to not betray their banter, her father stepped between them, his finger pointed threateningly at Dipper.
"You're lucky I don't have you arrested for trespassing! I am going to be gracious and ignore the filth that just came out of your mouth. I ask you again, leave. Leave, and don't come back."
Dipper's eyebrows furrowed together for a second, then he lifted his chin challengingly, "I think Pacifica should be the one to tell me that."
This invoked an eruption from her father, all handicaps and barriers out the window. Preston marched toward him; hand raised high in what would no doubt result in Dipper being grabbed by the scruff of his neck and tossed out in the dirt.
Pacifica started after him, "Dad, stop!"
"What's going on in here?"
Everyone froze. Auldman was standing at the edge of the hallway, a gray eyebrow arched.
Preston dropped his hand, "It's nothing, father. I have the situation under control. This...thing was just leaving."
Auldman sat his cigar on the coffee table, putting up both hands in a calming manner, "Just calm down, Preston. There's no need to fret over a simple matter. Another part of being a Northwest is minding our manners, even with commoners." Slipping between them, he bent down slightly to greet Dipper, "You are?"
The two shook hands, hesitantly on Dipper's part. "Dipper Pines."
Auldman reared his head back, smirking under his bush of a mustache, "The Pines boy I've heard so much about. My, it is nice to finally meet you. I hear you and Pacifica have become quite the pair of friends."
Preston snorted, "He intends to become more than that. Which will happen over my dead body."
"What do you- ah...I see. He came here to court her. Well, I must hand it to you, boy, that's a bold move. Especially with her father and grandfather present. You've got spunk."
Dipper's nose scrunched a bit, "Uh, thanks?" He glanced between the two taller men, then at Pacifica with a hint of timidity. She felt bad. He didn't know her grandfather would be here. What was probably a great plan in his head was now turning into a disaster.
"But," Auldman continued, "I'm afraid Pacifica is...how should I put it in a way you'll understand? Out of your league? Yes, that's appropriate. There are many other boys her age who will become fine suitors for her in the near future. I'm afraid your offer, while admirable, isn't welcome."
Dipper regained some of that confidence he arrived with, fists clenching at his sides. "It's weird. I don't hear Pacifica saying any of this. Are you guys ever gonna let her make her own decisions?"
Her father's entire body shook, another outburst about to surface if her grandfather didn't place a hand on his shoulder. "Pacifica is a child. As are you, boy. It's up to a child's family to guide them through life. That's all I'm doing. I'm looking out for her best interest."
Pacifica wanted to escape. To protest or say something on Dipper's behalf, but every time her mouth started to move, nothing came out. She felt trapped. She couldn't imagine how Dipper felt.
Auldman postured himself to look past Dipper, "Ah, here come my security guards. Gentlemen, escort this boy off the premises, pronto!"
The two giants lumbered up the steps and placed their baseball glove sized hands on both his shoulders. Dipper groaned, "Oh, come on guys, you don't have to- woah, you're really strong!"
They carried him away like a puppy, tossing him inside the Mystery Shack's golf cart. Auldman and Preston both shot satisfied smirks.
"Wait, Dipper doesn't have to-" Pacifica tried.
To no avail. Her father spoke over her, "Thank you for that, gentlemen!"
"It was nice to meet you, boy!" Auldman added, closing the door.
With that, everything went quiet. Pacifica's ears roared. The last, feeble straw was close to snapping. Pretty soon she'd consider changing her name to Atlantica Southeast, dying her hair black and taking a Speedy Beaver to Miami.
Her family considered the humiliation an accomplishment. Both her father and grandfather turned around as if nothing happened and began discussing their favorite Cuban cigar brands.
"Montechristo, eh?"
"Oh yes, but sometimes I prefer a Bolivar."
Even though Pacifica didn't have a chance to either reject or accept his offer, he still considered the whole effort to be a failure. He shouldn't have run into the lion's den like that. He knew it was more than likely he'd run into other Northwests there, but he never expected her dad's evil, older-looking twin. At first, he figured Cupid's beating made him see doubles of everything.
It's mid-evening when he drags himself back to the Shack, slipping in through the museum entrance to avoid talking to anyone. He didn't feel like striking up a conversation amid his embarrassment.
He couldn't avoid Mabel, though. When he opened the door to the attic, he found her sitting on the edge of her bed, arms wrapped around Waddles.
"So? How'd it go? Did she say yes? Did she definitely? Did she say ABSOLUTELY?!"
Dipper shook his head, "She...didn't really have the chance. Her dad and grandpa were there. They sort of spoke for her and kicked me out. Literally." He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing, "I think I've got a rock stuck in my spinal cord."
Mabel's excitement deflated. She placed her chin on top of Waddles. "I'm sorry, Dipper. But hey, at least it's not a no! I bet if those jerks weren't around she would've totally said yes!"
Dipper stepped over some debris from the fight prior, shrugging hopelessly, "Maybe. I'll probably never know. Safe to bet they have her on lockdown now for even looking at me." With a spin, he plopped back first on his bed.
"Pacifica has a grandpa?"
"Yeah. Guy looks just like her dad. He's kind of scarier, though. It felt like looking into the eyes of a wolf."
"Creepy. Why's he here?"
"No idea."
Mabel's sympathetic stare pressed him, "You gonna be okay?"
Dipper reached up and placed one of his pillows over his eyes and nose, "I'll get over it. There's still plenty of summer to enjoy as a bachelor."
Mabel sprung up from her bed, "Well, at least we'll be single pringles together, buddy!" Something cold and cylindrical fell into his loose palm, "I got a Pitt Cola in case you needed cheering up. C'mon Waddles, let's leave Uncle Dipper alone!"
Dipper couldn't help but smile a little, "Thanks, Mabel."
"Anytime!"
She closed the door behind her. Dipper popped open the soda can and took a few refreshing sips, attempting to push down his looming regret. He shouldn't feel that way. He tried. He put himself out there and went for it, and maybe Pacifica didn't even have an opportunity to give him a real answer, but maybe it was for the best. If he asked her alone and she said yes, her parents would find out eventually and she'd be in even more trouble. The last thing he wants is-
He's broken from his thoughts by a buzzing in his pocket. Is he getting a text?
Pushing the pillow off with his hand, he fishes in his pocket for the vibrating device and holds it up to his face once it's free. The name on the screen nearly makes him spit out a swig of Pitt-Cola. It's Pacifica. She's calling him.
In a blink, he's slammed the soda flat on the desk and sat up straight, tapping the green button on the screen. Before he speaks, he clears his throat, "Pacifica?"
Her exaggerated valley drawl comes a moment later, "Oh, so now you answer your phone."
Dipper eyes may have rolled, but the sound of her voice made him grin. "Yeah, I sort of had a long day including a battle to the death with a Greek god in the shape of a heart. I won't bother you with the details."
"Neat. I spent the day with my psycho grandfather trading houses with the old hillbilly that used to live in our manor."
That makes Dipper cross his legs and lean forward with interest, "Wait, what? Your grandpa got McGucket to move out?"
"Not after offering God knows how much money, and our cabin for free! Ugh, he's so insane, Dipper. Not even a day in town and he's ruining everything even more."
"Why's he even here? Family visit?"
Pacifica groans on the other end, "Father called him. Apparently, he's supposed to help us 'rise back to our old status.' But the only thing he's done so far is be a total jerk."
"Dang. That really sucks."
"Tell me about it." There was a pause, then her voice shifted, tone apologetic and soft, "I'm sorry for what happened. I shouldn't have let them throw you out like that."
"Hey, it's no big deal. What could you have done? Those two guys were like twice the size of Soos."
"Still..."
"Hey, don't sweat it. I'm just glad you didn't get into trouble. You...didn't get into trouble, right?"
"Not really. I've just been ignored since. Father and Grandfather have been talking about Cuban cigars for like, an hour. It's getting boring. I guess they think you're some delusional peasant who's love for me is one-sided, or something."
"Is it one-sided?" Dipper asked boldly, choosing to gloss over the L word. That's a big word. Far, far too soon to be used here, but that's not the point.
This throws Pacifica for a loop, and he can tell. She doesn't say anything for a second, probably regaining her composure to shoot back with a witty remark. She doesn't disappoint. "I don't know. I didn't really hear you all that clearly earlier. It sounded like you were asking me out."
"Was I?"
"Pretty sure. But your voice kept cracking, and it was really hard to make out what you were saying. You might have to redo it."
Dipper, despite keeping his voice as calm and suave as he could, began sweating from his hands and nervously clicking a nearby pen. "I don't know. It was kind of a big deal. I think I only have one in me."
"Well, if a certain dork wanted a redo, now would be the perfect time. I mean, there's no psycho parents or grandparents around, no giant security guards, no weird sisters...it would be a missed opportunity."
He leans back against the headboard, inhaling deep through his nose. This is it. "Pacifica...will you go out with me?"
She leaves him in suspense for far too long, "Hmm...sure. But you're paying."
"Deal."
They talk a little more and then say their goodbyes. Dipper lets the phone rest on his lap. He stares up at the ceiling with a goofy smile. He can't wait to tell Mabel, he can't wait to explore this butterfly feeling fluttering around in his stomach, he can't wait to see her again.
But for now, he needs a nap.
-x-
GLSFLILFD IRUHYHU!