Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue - Eight Years

Eight years. She was eight whole years past it now. Eight years forward, now a young woman, a college student, living in her own place, with independence. It hadn't been easy, looking back. The quarrels, fights, arguments, and demands that her parents pushed on her with each step she took forward were a strain, even now, that she had to bear. But it was so worth it for the ability to go wherever she wants, do what she wants, study what she wants, and, not that she ever had, be with who she wants. Yeah, that’s right. The great Pacifica Northwest, blonde beauty hadn’t ever taken a boyfriend, despite dozens of suitors. Why would she? She’d learned quickly after getting close to one guy that they couldn’t provide that single feeling of safety and worth she’d felt so long ago. Not to mention that they could hardly support her emotionally - Like, she didn’t want to get locked up in a mental asylum, which would definitely happen if she started talking about…

Eight years since the cross in the sky, the floating pyramid, that...thing. That short time of terror that had lived in her heart ever since; a reminder, of sorts, that the Northwest name was not necessarily one that she should follow. 

Eight Years since the party, since the ghost had transformed the fest into a horror show, since he had transformed her life in a matter of a simple few sentences. Since that glorious moment when the tinkling of the bell in her father's hand just hadn't goddamn mattered anymore, if only for a moment, because she could do the right thing just this once. 

Eight years since she had watched the Pines leave. Since she has signed that note with a heart and given a wave to a sweet, brave boy who helped her discover her path.

They had never come back to the Falls.

But as they say, the first step is always the hardest, and he’d helped her take that. Granted, he wasn’t aware of it because he was a dork, and granted, he didn’t know it at the time because he was a wooden statue, but still. One step all those years ago had led her to her own apartment, a college scholarship, a private bank account, and almost as much independence as she wanted. 

She'd gotten Mabel's number of course. They spoke from time to time, catching up. It was all meaningless, but it made them both feel happy. She'd never been brave enough to ask him for a number. But time went on, the chats with Mabel slowed, then stopped, and memories faded - some. Some memories faded. Others simply tucked themselves away and waited for revival in the summery scent of pine tree sap and ink and fresh books. Waited for eight years to pass.

Chapter One - Some Memories Fade.

"Ughhh! Come on! You've got to be kidding me." Dipper was startled slightly by the very 'audible' complaints that intruded into his completely zoned-out state, where he was tucked into a warm booth, reading his most recent fiction novel. 

He looked up, then realised he’d have to move to see properly, and duly considered it. On the one hand, he was warm, had a damn good coffee, a surprisingly interesting sequel to an old favourite series, and- Yeah, he totally couldn’t stop himself from investigating. Both his innate sense of curiosity and his deeply ingrained personal compass of morality and a driving urge to be a gentleman (and wow he sounded obnoxious in his head) forced him up and out of his booth, packing away his book and stretching out his full six feet of height.

It’d taken awhile, but he was finally taller than Mabel, who ended up around 5’10. He looked at the source of the complaint that roused him. It came from the stunning blonde currently leaning against a counter, seemingly waiting for her coffee order, and glaring at the retreating back of the barista. She was wearing clothes that couldn't be faulted for fashion, not that he knew much about that other than what Mabel unfortunately forced onto him. A pair of white form fitting jeans, soft pink sleeveless blouse and a denim jacket. But her face... Yeesh. If looks could kill. She did seem vaguely familiar though…

"What's up?" He froze. Why'd he say that? He doesn't know her. This just became weird. That’s not how you talk to strangers. He was stood next to the clearly attractive blonde, wearing unintentionally ripped jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel shirt, with over-worn sneakers, and ohgodwhydidhemakeitawkwardanduncomfortableandnowhesoundslikeheistwelveagainohnooh-

"I'm going to be late to class, and their machine is broken." She sighed, not noticing how he had frozen, nor how his joints, thankfully, suddenly seemed to unlock as she spoke, relaxing into his usual laid-back stance. "It's nothing, I'll survive. It’s just…coffee..." 

The girl deflated, sinking down and withdrawing within herself. He raised his cup to his lips, and stopped himself sipping, recognising that sleep- and caffeine-deprived defeated look from his early days of college before he learnt the wonders of emergency expressos, then it happened again. "You can have mine." He outstretched his arm holding the coffee. WHY DID HIS BODY KEEP BETRAYING HIM?

She finally raised her head from her phone to look at him, oh-so-slightly familiar blue eyes piercing him, head tilted slightly with confusion. "What? No, I couldn't." His gut was just punched. Well, metaphorically. Not that this was an unusual scenario when he tried to be nice to, or actually just interact at all with, girls. Something about how he acted just seemed to warn them off. Or, maybe he just didn't like most of them. Eh, probably both knowing his luck. Though, statistically, it was guaranteed that- Nope. Wasn’t letting himself stress out like that again. Just focus on not screwing up the conversation anymore.

This guy was…definitely cute. He was scruffy, but in an experienced way rather than a lazy way, with his casual slouch, old trainers, torn jeans and scruffy mop of brown curls.

Just then the guy’s phone rang, and after a slightly relieved glance at it, he became distracted, simply waving vaguely at her and saying "It’s no problem, seriously, have it. See ya." He picks up the phone, trotting outside whilst talking and hopping into an expensive looking SUV. Pacifica's eyebrow rose higher in disbelief. In the space of five minutes, she'd been given an coffee she thought she would do without, then vaguely waved off by some random attractive guy in scruffy shoes who drove an expensive luxury SUV, and somehow, she was just curious.

She stepped outside and watched as the man drove off. Really, there was no ‘somehow’. She knew why, but that bridge was lost, if not burnt, so after a long minute, she gave a miniscule shrug, passing it off as an oddity, and heading to class, her mind struggling to move on to thoughts of fabric, stitches, and fashion, instead of wishes and memories of thrills and kindness long past. 

She certainly didn’t spend hours of her day thinking about the mysterious brunette in the hat that felt strangely familiar, and she wouldn’t have been caught dead debating going back to that coffee shop, if he was a regular there to see him again, and there’s no chance on earth that she walked into someone while heading home because she was distracted by these thoughts. 

With a smack, she collided with the girl, dropping her bag and making the girl drop her drink everywhere.

“Oh my god! I’m sorry! I must’ve zoned out. I was jus…” She stopped, staring at the drink on the sidewalk. She only knew one person who put freaking plastic dinosaurs into their beverages. Her head slowly raised to the girl opposite her, who was trying to pick up her keys and phone that she’d dropped, saying “Ahhh, no. Don’t worry it, it was my fault for texting and walking. Drat.” 

She was right. It was her. Mabel Pines. And goddamn if she didn’t look like she was doing well now. Still wearing a homemade sweater, this one with a baby seal holding a stamp with the caption ‘Seal of Approval’ on it, Mabel had certainly grown up. Slender tights-clad legs led to narrow hips, her sweater clinging a fair bit more than it used to, the mass of brown hair reaching to her lower back; Mabel looked good.

“Anyway, nice to meet you, I’m-” Pacifica cut her off. “Mabel Pines.” 

Mabel’s eyes shot upwards, and she jumped backwards, reaching into her pack and pulling out a small cross. “Who are you? Why do you know who I am? I told Alalucard I was not interested, goddamnit!” 

Pacifica simply raised an eyebrow and thought ‘Guess some things just don’t change, huh?’ then said “Mabel, really? A cross? What is it this time? Vampires? Demons? Really pissed off satan-worshiping ghosts?”

Mabel said nothing, staring her down and putting a hand in her bag again. Pacifica sighed, raised an eyebrow, smirked, then put on her best valley girl drawl and said “Ugh, like, why would you even be carrying that? It’s, like, totally weird.”. Mabel’s eyes widened slowly, and kept going, before she whispered “Pacifica?”

“Yup.” She replied, and then was suddenly bombarded by a hug tighter than a vise, and a squeal at a frequency she didn’t think was possible for anything other than dogs to hear. “OHMYGODIHAVEN’TSEENYOUINAGES!!!” Mabel practically screamed in her ear. 

“Yes, I know! Put me down!” The brunette retreated at her demand, grinning from ear-to-ear, and opened her mouth again when Pacifica said “Ahah! Shush. I totally can’t deal with another scream. It’s great to see you, but I don’t want to get rained on.” She thought of the coffee again, thoughts of the guy who gave it to her drifting at the edges. “There’s a coffee shop near here. C’mon, we can catch up there.” 

“...So, I got the scholarship, found an apartment, saved some money, and moved out. I’m almost entirely self-reliant. I still get the occasional invitation to a party, but…“ Pacifica shrugged as she finished her catch-up with Mabel. The two were sitting at a table by the window of the coffee shop, cups in front of them. 

“Wowzer! That’s…so cool! You’re all badass now Paz-paz!” 

Almost instinctively, she began to reply “My name’s-” then she looked at Mabel again and smiled. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 

Mabel literally looked like she was about to implode at that, reassuring Pacifica she’d made the right choice. 

She took a moment to breathe and look around. The coffee shop was surprisingly cute. Sure, the bare brick style was an older one, and the brown leather of the booths was worn, but she could tell that care and attention had been poured into the place, not cash; It was possibly her new favourite coffee shop. 

“What about you, Mabel? What’re you doing now?” She asked, shaking her thoughts away to focus on her distant past friend.

Mabel grinned and said in her most excited, exaggerated tone “Fashion!” drawing the word out, and spreading her hands in the air dramatically. “Turns out people actually pay alot for specially designed, personalised, handmade clothing, so I figured I’d open a business for it! It’s just online for now, until I can buy the place I want, but it's FUN!”

Pacifica laughed, caught up in the excitement Mabel seemed to simply shoot around her. “Alright! It sounds like it. Hey, who knows? Maybe I’ll let you use some of my designs.” Pacifica said it with a smile, indulging in the insanity that was Mabel. It might have been years, but that clearly didn’t dull Mabel’s mabelness.

The glitter-obsessed girl’s eyes shot open and her mouth dropped. “Oh my god that’s such a good ideeea!! Fansupertabluous!” She grinned again, then checked the time. “Oh! I’ve gotta go. Have some classwork to do. See you around, Mabel?” 

Mabel bounced up, and hugged her fiercely. “Yes. Definitely. Absolutely. I can’t believe it’s been so long.” She let go, and began leaving, stopping at the door to call out “And next time you’re telling me about cute boys you’ve met!”

Pacifica’s cheeks are burning at that, as thoughts of the guy from earlier flooded her mind again, now the distraction is gone. 

“OH MY GOD DIPPER YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHO-” 

“Not now Mabel!”

“BUT SERIOUSLY IT WAS-”

“Mabel! Now is not the time! We're meant to be quiet right now!” 

“But Dipperr!”

“Oh for- What? What is it this- Mabel. Run.”

“What, why?”

“RUN!"

"Why are we runnin-OHMYGOD IS THAT A GIANT GOAT? GOATANT? GIGOAT? OH! GOATLIATH! I WANT ONNEEE!!!"

Chapter Text

Dipper sat down with his coffee again, rubbing his eyes slightly. The sun was shining, birds were calling through the brilliant blue sky, and he wishes he was in bed. Or just asleep. Even unconscious would do. Turns out running for your life from some sort of nature dryad that was pissed at the world, and enjoyed making large creatures tiny and small creatures massive because of ’reasons beyond your feeble comprehension’ as it was so delicately put, really tires you out. So, here he was, back at what he thinks is just called the Hearth, at 9am, wishing he could fall asleep. 

After muttering out his order, he wandered over and sat down into his regular booth heavily, followed by the heavier thud of his head hitting the table and his arms wrapping around it. With the lights muted and the sounds dulled, it was almost like he could, just maybe, get a little bit of shuteye here-

“ Ahem . Mind if I sit here?” A sharp and clear voice called to him amidst the quiet murmuring of the outside world. Ignore it, it’s…female. Drat.

He blearily raised his head up, only to shrink back and squint as the natural light assaulted his eyes. After a moment, they seemed to adjust to the beautiful blonde from yesterday climbing into the booth, facing him, placing her satchel bag beside her and propping a small pink laptop open. This was…unusual. 

“Er…H-hi.” He stuttered out, his voice a slightly higher pitch than he’s used to nowadays. She looked at him and nodded, the slightest hint of a smile curving her soft pink lips. He studied her face, drawn in by that small smile. A softly curving, elegant nose led to clear blue eyes, studded with starlight, framed by a gorgeous blonde waterfall of hair that barely let free a glimpse of small ears. She looked beautiful. That hair…it reminded him of a girl he used to know, years ago when he first learnt of the world’s mysteries. A memory of a little girl who dressed in a purple dress and diamond earrings, feared silver-patterned carpets and little brass bells, and stood up to those fears when it really mattered.

That memory shook him from his inspection of her face, letting him realise he’d been staring for way too long, and it was getting a little awkward now, or would be if she had noticed. He blushed, and thanked all that was holy for the delivery of their drinks right then relieving him from conversation. He quickly grabs his drink and take a sip, letting the cup cover his face somewhat until his blush dies down. His phone chimes with an email, and seeing it’s sender, he frowns and places the cup down, fishing in his bag, then pulling out and placing his laptop. With several unnecessarily strong taps, he navigates through to his emails and begins responding, frown still strong on his face at the issues that his job have presented him. He gets so caught up, in fact, that it’s embarrassingly shocking to him when that concentration is broken by a lazy voice cutting through to him. 

“What’s the matter?”

He was decidedly extra attractive when he wasn’t paying attention. Seeing how caught up he got in whatever he was currently doing, that frown with him biting his lip in concentration, the messy brown hair, the strong rounded jawline, the narrowed brown eyes…a hazy memory drifted across the back of her mind, of a boy who helped her on a better path, and trusted her with his life…then it was gone as he shook his head irritably, and she asked “What’s the matter?”

His eyes shot up to meet hers, a heavy blush filling his face. “A-ah. Hey. It’s, er, It’s my work. They’ve had a HR issue, and supposedly I’m the one who’s meant to help- Nevermind. It’s not important.” He pushes close his laptop, taking a long drink from his coffee. Black, with just a hint of cream in it, she notes.

“So…What’d you study?” She asks.

“What? Study? Who?” He asks. Yeah, the flustered look was just as cute on him as…

She pulls her mind off the past, pushing it down. “You. Study. Subject?” She smiles and reaches over, a slender finger outstretched, and taps a nail painted soft pink to the university sticker on the corner of his laptop.

“O-OH! Oh, I see!” He laughs, a rich, full-bodied sound that makes her feel that same distant-past feeling of warmth and safety. “Photography, mainly. I’ve always enjoyed studying and documenting the world, so, what better way than a photo? As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.” His attitude completely changes, becoming confident and strong-voiced as he goes on. “In fact, I even considered going on to do a PhD in something in that field, but then my own hobbies took off and I figured, why do that when I can spend my time pursuing my passion. In fact!” He reaches into his bag again - seriously, how deep was that thing? - and then stops, and looks at her, deflating slightly, his eyebrows drawing together. “But, I’m probably guessing that you’re not that interested. Sorry, I get a bit excited sometimes.” 

He starts retracting his hand from the bag, and she can’t bear that defeated look on his face any longer. Plus, she is actually curious what he’s so amped up about. It’s woken a part of her up that’s laid at rest for so long, something that hints at more in her life, so she says “No, no!” 

She smiles “Please. You’ve, er, piqued my interest” a slight  pink suffuses her cheeks, and she can’t stop herself from teasingly adding “Even if you are nerding out.”

She’s immediately glad, as his face transforms into this massive lopsided grin and he says “O-Okay!” and burrows in that bag again, before he tugs something out, just as his phone rings. His smile becomes slightly guilty as he looks at it. “I…should probably answer that. It’s my sister.” 

She’s momentarily disappointed, but the curiosity remains, so she nods, unaware of the wide-eyed innocence she’s portraying. He swallows heavily, and answers the phone. As he does, he absent-mindedly places what he’s holding on the table. It’s a book. 

Bound in blue and white leather, and held together with golden corners and rivets, with a symbol so familiar to her that her heart seems to stop completely adorning the cover of it. A simple symbol for a Pine Tree, in a reflective gold, centred on the journal’s cover with a ‘4’ atop it. She can’t stop her mouth dropping open.

As she comes to that realisation, the guy picks up the call, listens to it for a second, then confirms it for her. “....No, Mabel, we talked about this. I refuse to use anything that you ‘bedazzle’ for my workplace. I-” 

She blurts out, unable to stop herself “Dipper!” then claps a hand over her mouth.

He snaps his sight to her, looking deep into her eyes. A long moment where the only interruption to the silence is Mabel’s quiet voice in the phone saying “Dip? Dip-Dop? Dippingsauce? Dipster? Dippy Fre-” 

His eyes narrow slightly, and his head tilts curiously at her, then he interrupts his enthusiastic sibling. “Mabel? Call you back later. Something’s come up.” He hangs up the phone, placing it in an inside pocket, and laying his other hand over the journal. “...Who are you?” He asks simply. 

He’s calm. Like, really calm. How is he so calm when her heart is racing like mad? “I…”

“Are you another of Alalucard’s people? Damn it, I thought Mabel made it clear that she was not interested!” He rants out. Ugh, what is it with these twins? Who the heck is Alalalacard, or whatever his name is?

She says as much “That guy again? Both of you mentioned him now.”

His eyes widen slightly. “So, you’ve found Mabel too. Who-” He cuts himself off, leaning forward slightly as if to look closer at her. “Oh my God.” His voice cracks slightly. “N-n-no way. Pa…Pacifica?”

She grins. Sure, it’s still freaky just happening to run into one another after all this time, but he’s so typically Dipper in that moment that she just can’t help it. “That’s right, nerd. In the flesh.”

He looks stunned for a moment, as if someone hit him in the face with a shovel. “Oh my god! Pacifica! You’re so pretty!” He says, clearly without thinking, before immediately realising and going red from embarrassment. Yep, classic Dipp- “And you’re being nice? W-what’s up with that?” Huh. That’s new. He couldn't push past the embarrassment before. 

Now, it was her turn to blush. “I…I’m different now. Not, like, mean or anything like that any more.” That at least was true. She really was turning over a new leaf. She just…didn’t want to say it was all because of a twelve-year old in a tux with a dumb book who was kind to her.

He stares for a moment longer, then shakes his head furiously, looks at her, smiles and oh god, her heart is racing again. That little lopsided grin of his was pointed at her. 

“No kidding” he said “I always knew you could, but…” He chuckles slightly. “We have a lot of catching up to do. I mean, I never got to return the question. What are you studying?”

“What are you studying?” He asked, mind still reeling. Wow. Just…Wow. Pacifica was..stunning. When he was a kid, he thought she was cute, even before the mansion, and to this day, Mabel still occasionally teased him, joking about there being ‘a vibe’ between him and whatever the latest girl she’d chosen for him was. But to see her all grown up…She was beautiful, genuinely. 

Her gentle, soft voice sifted through to him “Er…Dipper, are you listening?”

He jolted slightly “Y-YES!” He stared at her, wild-eyed, then saw her trying not to laugh. “Okay, maybe I spaced out.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his head. “Repeat, please?” 

She smiled for a flash second again, and then said “What I said, you dork, was that I’m studying fashion.” She shrugged self-deprecatingly “I figured, might as well put all that training to good use, you know?”

“Really? That’s so you! I mean, because you always looked great. Not that you don’t now. Look great, I mean-” He started stumbling over his words to get them out before stopping himself, and taking a deep breath.

He calmed a little and told her a bit about his life now, the monster hunts, the occasional invention, while she told him about her coursework, and some of the odd things she’d noticed around town. He told her about the way he and his sister had finally branched off from one another. 

“It’s not like we don’t talk anymore, or are completely separated, but…I think we finally worked out that while we’ll always be there for each other and work together on the important things, we still need some personal space, you know? I mean, you never know true horror until you walk in on your sister making out with some guy in your room.” He shudders, and she laughs again. It’s a full bodied laugh that sounds out cleanly into the air, filling him with that unfamiliar warmth and happiness, leading the corners of his mouth into a smile, and his eyes to watch the way her eyes sparkled and her fringe jumped slightly with each laugh, or the wide-eyed look she got when she snorted slightly, leading to more laughing between the two of them. His mind started wandering down very old paths, painted anew by this smart blonde girl. 

Okay, was he really going to do this? It was insane. It was absolutely ridiculous. It was a ludicrous thought that shouldn’t have even crossed his mind. He’d only met her again…technically two days ago, but he’d only known it was her for a little while! No matter how pretty she was, or how much he loved the soft laugh she had, or the gentle curve of her nose, or the way her beautiful blonde hair tickled her ears or- “Can I take you out sometime, Pacifica?” 

His mind screeched to a halt. He’d actually said it aloud. Well, one for Dipper, zero for anxiety this time. Or…maybe not.

 “It’s okay if you say no. I’d say no. Of course, sorry, I’m just being weird again. I totally get it that you hate me now.” He slides his stuff into his bag without looking, or caring when it crashes together off the table, as he starts standing up.

“Oh, sit down, you adorkable idiot.” 

He froze, slowly sliding back into the booth while carefully maintaining direct eye-contact…with the floor. Surely he’d heard her wrong- 

“I..I’d like that.”

He forced his eyes up to her. She sat opposite him, hands anxiously playing with her hair, crystal blue gaze pointed away from him, a heavy blush filling her soft pale cheeks. She was nervous about responding to him.

“W-wait, really!?” He got out, still surprised. He was even more surprised at her sudden outburst of “Yes, really! Stop thinking you’re this unlovable nerd! You’re really smart and I…” her outburst almost completely stops as she mumbles “...I kinda think you’re cute and wanna go out with you.” 

Huh. So this is what a heart attack feels like.

Chapter Text

He was lucky that Mabel had other things to do nowadays than just stalk his private life. Not that she didn’t do that still. Just had other stuff going on as well now. And, while he might’ve liked her advice on what to do and wear, he’d made do without.

But because of that, he probably had a small blessing, in the little time until she eventually learnt about this…thing, with Pacifica. 

God, just her name brought an inside warmth and flashing sapphire blue eyes and a golden waterfall of suntouched hair to his mind, and when did he become all poetic?! More importantly, why can’t he write this stuff down right now?

Oh yeah. Driving. That’s why. To a date with Pacifica. 

…

Huh. Weirdly enough, that didn’t make him sweat, or tremble or want to stutter out anything. Just…something about her, and the way she…well, how she was in everything, it made him more relaxed with the thought of all the romantic stuff like dates and dating and such. Sure, he was still nervous, but it was a normal nervous, not an ‘anxious, sweaty mess’ nervous.

He remembered their text conversation that morning;

Pacifica: On a scale of 1-10 how plebian should I dress

Dipper: I’m sorry, your majesty!

Pacifica: Ugh so hard to get good staff these days

Dipper: Uh-huh. Need help with that stick you’re sitting on?

Pacifica: Answer the question dipstick

Dipper: Depends. What’s 1, and what’s 10 for you?

Pacifica: Pajamas at 1 Northwest Fest at 10

Dipper: Hm. Go with an 8. Though, you’re always a 10 for me.

Pacifica: Better know it peasant

Dipper: Stereotype.

Pacifica: Dork

Dipper: Rich girl

Pacifica: Journal Boy

Dipper: Princess

Pacifica: Troll

…

Pacifica: Actually

…

Pacifica: Princess is nice

Dipper: Of course it is, Princess, because that’s just so typical. Want some music for that stereo-type?

[Change Nickname for Pacifica to >Princess<]

[>Confirm<]

Princess: Ugh. Bad pun.

Princess: So…what you wearing

Princess: LATER NOT NOW

Dipper: Uh-huh. Wow. Gonna pretend I didn’t see that.

He blushed in remembrance. Something about the blue-beauty that had re-entered his life a week ago gave him an unusual confidence. 

Stopped at a red light, he took a moment to consider that confidence, and when he’d felt it before; investigating a UFO, fighting ghosts with Pacifica, standing against a Gnome conglomeration, asking her out on a date, standing up against… him . 

His hands suddenly clench the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. His dark brows drawing together, teeth grinding together and his eyes taking on an angry, hunted look of wide-eyed unseeing.

-Grunkle Ford’s reassuring smile-the shot of the rifle-the church tower exploding-Ford screaming for him to run-the journals-the sheer uncoordinated fear-Ford changing-turning to gold-that laugh-that cackle that rang through his head-bouncing inside his skull,laughing,laughing,always laughin- SORRY KID, YOU’RE MY PUPPET NOW!

A horn sounded behind him, drawing Dipper out, and returning his attention to the present. The light was green, and he hadn’t moved. As he put his foot on the accelerator and started moving again, he smiled grimly and shook his head, shaking away the past from himself, and chuckling to release some of the tension building in him that threatened to break his steering wheel.

Pacifica gave him confidence, that was undeniable. She let him be him at his best, and gave him reason to be his best, to be as strong as he could, like nobody else could. Not even Mabel or Wendy, or his Grunkles, or any of his family. But - HAHAHAHAH - He slammed his fist against the dashboard, then let out a deep breath, unclenched his fist and smiled darkly again.

But some things simply shouldn’t - couldn’t - be spoken aloud.

Wow. This neighbourhood was surprisingly…not expensive, for what he’d come to expect of the Northwests. Pacifica really did break the mould, didn’t she? Speaking of, that golden sheet in that doorway was unmistakable. 

With an unconsciously smooth series of actions, he pulls the SUV up to the curb, puts it in park, stops the engine, and swivels out of his seat to get out the car, then strides around to open her door for her.

As he does this, unnoticed by him, she watches him with a small smile of delight. He looks dashing, just like he did in the original suit she lent to him, so many years ago. Except now…he was grown. That suit now followed his figure closely, holding a narrow waist, tightening across broad shoulders. The slight hint of swelling muscle was clear to her practised eye, as was the quality of the suit and bow-tie. Though… 

“Seriously Dipper?” He hears her say in a sharp tone. A panic rises in him as he spins to look at her, then he relaxes at seeing the tell-tale sparkle in her eyes that let on she was teasing. Then he understood. “You still can’t tie a bow-tie properly? It’s been eight years, Pines.” Her lip curls at the edge in a smirk. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up at the ‘peasant’, why don’t you?” He jokes, rolling his eyes, even if he’s unable to stop the smile on his face. Then, she walks over and steps into his space, speaking as  she undoes and re-does his tie, unaware of the blush rising on his face.

“I certainly will Dipstick, thanks for offering. Speaking of, where’d you get-” She glances up at him, and then cuts off realising the situation she’s put them in. A light pink suffuses her cheeks, and she steps back, raising her hand to her mouth and turning her head away with a slight cough. “S-So where are we going, Pines?”

He takes a deep stuttering breath to calm himself down, then says “Wait and see, Princess.”

He turns and opens the door for her again. “Your chariot awaits.”

Unsurprisingly, Pacifica looks good. No, scratch that, she looks like a literal mythological goddess…Hopefully not one of the violent ones. 

An elegant dress in a familiar purple flowed down her figure that he has to be really careful to keep out of his thoughts lest his body, er, ‘betray’ him. Soft silver earrings glitter on her ears, and a matching, yet simple charm hangs from her neck, highlighting her clear ivory skin. A matching set of heels and a purse complete her outfit, and good lord she looks amazing and he’s completely missed what she said.

“Whassat?” He absently says, still looking at her. 

“Dipper, for the third time, I said that- Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. But you might want to turn the car on first, Pines.” She’s smirking at him now. Why is she smirk… Oh.

He shakes his head, clearing his mind somewhat and realises he’s been trying to drive with it turned off. Yikes. A heavy blush pairs with a deservedly embarrassed smile, and he laughs it off as he starts driving. 

“So, Pacifica, are you…er, excited?” He nervously gets out, while his actions show an almost supernatural level of calm as he drives them through the streets.

“Well” She says, drawing it out slightly “I might be convinced to be more excited if you’d actually tell me where we’re going.” 

He laughs again. “Not a hope, Princess. You can wait and see, like I said the last seven times you tried to find out.”

She pouts, and damn him if that wasn’t adorable- Focus on the road, Mason!

“Fine.” She paused, and then smirked evilly. Uh-oh. That was a look to beware. “But, I get to take you out next time.”

“Oh. Sure. Thought that was going to be worse honestly.” He says absently, his attention occupied with manoeuvring through a busy roundabout.

“Who says it won’t be? For all you know, I could be taking you to a boring, fancy rich people party!” She snarks at him.

He responds without thinking, still focused on keeping them safe “I wouldn’t care, so long as I was with you.” He begins to park the car, having gotten to the restaurant, completely unaware of the expression of the blonde next to him. Her jaw was hanging open slightly in shock, heat flushing her cheeks, and someone watching might have thought they saw a tear glitter in her eye for a moment, until she blinked and it was gone as if it had been the imagination.

In fact, someone watching did think that, unbeknownst to the pair.