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Dappled shadows cast by the beating sun greeted a young explorer in the forest. He carried a map he’d drawn from information separately given him by the gnomes, the fairies, and the multibear. All of them knew fragments of a local legend about a hidden field of tulips with unusual properties. What kind of unusual properties they supposedly possessed varied. The gnomes said they healed any injury, including fatal ones, if one ate a single petal. The gnomes, however, weren’t the most reliable of species. One might call such a statement speciesist, but only if one had never met the gnomes. The fairies said holding a tulip by the ovary granted the ability to speak with deceased fairy queens. The multibear said that he had heard a lot more myths about the tulip field than just those two, but he didn’t have any basis to believe one over another.
This explorer was technically a teen and wore a blue and white cap with a pinetree on it over his wavy chestnut brown hair. He’d traded the trapper hat he’d worn for the last three seasons with a friend once he returned to Gravity Falls. He ambled through the forest, happy to be back.
Unbeknownst to him, another young explorer was on a path that would soon cross with his, although her goal was entirely different. She had a hot pink purse slung across her body and a matching ribbon tying her shiny platinum blond hair into a ponytail and wore a violet jacket over a lavender dress and black pants. She pushed aside branches that impeded her way, scowling.
The first explorer paused and squinted at his map. Perhaps this was why he didn’t hear the second explorer tromping around until she practically fell in front of him.
He peered around the map. “Pacifica?” He said.
“Yes?” Pacifica replied with a tinge of annoyance. A few twigs had snagged in her hair, so some irritability was understandable. She worked hard to keep her hair this neat and shiny. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to find you in the woods, Dipper.”
Dipper shrugged. “I am here a lot. But why are you here?”
“I’m picking flowers,” she stated haughtily.
Dipper stared at her. “...Okay.”
“That’s all you have to say? ‘Okay’?”
Here, Dipper took a cue from his great-uncle. “What else do you want? A kiss on the cheek?” He immediately regretted his words.
“Ye–I mean, why would I want that? Why would you even ask that?” Pacifica replied. Dipper gave her an odd look.
“Did you just almost say yes?” (No, he wasn’t asking to ward off the embarrassment of kind of-sort of offering his sister’s former rival/bully a kiss on the cheek. Absolutely not.)
“No! I mean, yes, but only because I thought you were going to say something else.” As if she’d let Dipper Pines kiss her!
Actually, that doesn’t sound so bad–STOP thinking about this, Pacifica!
“Maybe I’ll give you one when you become less stuck-up,” Dipper suggested. He immediately backtracked. “Okay, can we forget I ever said that?” What in the world had come over him? This was Pacifica Northwest! Sure, they’d sort of become friends, but she was still… her.
“The stuck-up part or the… other part? Because I’m all for forgetting–” They could pretend the “kiss on the cheek” thing never happened. Right. That would be good. (Pacifica had great emotional intelligence because Northwests were great at everything. That’s just how it worked.)
“Uh, both of them,” he said quickly, worried about which part she was okay with forgetting. Why did he even care? (Because she’s kind of actually cool, maybe?)
“Oh, alright.” Did she seem disappointed? And again, why did he care whether or not she was disappointed?
“Speaking of flowers…” He hesitated. Well, she’d joined him on a couple adventures last year–though maybe it would be more accurate to say that he joined her, considering she was the one who’d asked him for help both times. “I’m going to a field of tulips that’s supposed to have, like, crazy powers. I don’t know what kind of crazy powers–it’s possible that they’ll just give us hallucinations–but if you wanted to, y’know, come with me?”
“You’re picking flowers?” Pacifica asked incredulously.
“Hey, they’re supposed to have crazy powers!” Dipper defended.
“Yeah, that does seem like you. So where are these crazy flowers anyway?”
Dipper pointed northeast. “That way, I believe. I think we’re pretty close.”
The two fell into a comfortable rhythm as they strolled to their destination. One would make a remark or ask a question, and the other would respond.
This is called a “conversation.”
Dipper was surprised at how natural it was. Any lingering awkwardness had swiftly disappeared. Plus, Pacifica was smiling, and it wasn’t that fake stuck-up “I’m better than you” smile he’d seen so many times, but a genuine, carefree smile. It lit her whole face up. He wanted to see her smile like that every day. He wanted to see her be a kid, like he’d tried so hard not to be last year, like Mabel always helped him be, like Pacifica wasn’t allowed to be because of all the expectations placed on her.
Pacifica was also surprised. Dipper was a good conversationalist. He listened to her, and he was snarky, and funny, and smart… and why was she still thinking about this? He was just Dipper (who she’d gladly fight a ghost for, fight a face-stealing monster, maybe even face another demon for, just because he’d looked at her that night, and he’d seen her, and he treated her just like anyone else, and that was novel, and she loved him maybe more than a little bit for it.)
When they were nearing the tulip field, Dipper asked, “So you can tell why I’m looking for these flowers, but why are you looking for flowers?”
Pacifica pursed her lips. “For my parents.” Her mother liked tulips and Pacifica had heard of the tulip field courtesy of stumbling across the multibear one day and bonding over old BABBA CDs. It was a weird day. The point was, she was going to do something nice for her mom, because she was stressing over having no flowers to distract some potential business partners who were coming over tomorrow from their fall from grace. Given what happened last time her father tried to make a deal… she didn’t really blame her mother.
“Oh. Uh, I thought things weren’t… great between you. Are they… better now?”
She was surveying the foliage to the side and didn’t look at him as she answered. “I don’t know. They’re not still mad at me about the party last year–not that they’ve shown, anyway–but they’re… well, they’re them, you know?”
“I think so?” Dipper replied, having met her parents on more than one occasion. They’d shown general disdain for everyone who had less than a million dollars and were creepily controlling of Pacifica, though he he’d seen them no more than once since they lost their fortune.
She sighed. “I just…” She wanted a love free from the conditions and expectations her status as a Northwest placed on her.
“You just what?” He prompted.
“Nothing. It–it doesn’t matter. Hey, is that the tulip field?” She pointed through a couple of the trees. A titian orange glow filtered through them.
“I think it is!” Dipper exclaimed, racing to it. He ran right up to it. He paused at the green path between two well-manicured rectangles of flowers. The inside of the petals glimmered. He wondered if the glimmer was what caused the near-transparent layer of shimmering mist above the tulips. Mabel would love it here, that’s for sure. He would bring her here soon. Pacifica joined him and he glanced at her. The sun’s rays hit her head, yellow and white shining on her upper body and gentle orange hues from the mist below casting her in an ethereal luminescence. Realizing he was staring, he looked away awkwardly. He didn’t want to get distracted by girls. He’d had enough of that last summer, first chasing Wendy who never wanted him like that, then with all the girls he’d talked to on the road trip, none of whom he’d seen again. (Candy didn’t count since he knew her before the trip.)
“You don’t think any ghosts will get mad at me if I pick one of these flowers, right?” Pacifica questioned. She knelt down, her fingers inches away from plucking one of the tulips.
“Eh, no way to tell until you pick it up,” he replied, crouching to inspect the flowers at eye level. He clasped the petals between his fingers and picked it off the stem. The duo paused to make sure that the sky hadn’t turned green or the tulips turned black and grow teeth. Nothing happened. Dipper shrugged. “There’s your answer. I wonder if I should eat it? That’s what most of the stories say–”
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” a rich voice interjected. “I have a distant cousin who ate the flower and wouldn’t stop hallucinating for weeks. And the whole process to get her to stop hallucinating? Eurgh!”
“Where are you?” A bewildered Pacifica inquired.
“On your shoulder!”
Pacifica’s head snapped downwards and Dipper maneuvered to get a better look. Fluttering above Pacifica’s shoulder was a fairy enrobed in a gleaming pink dress–it actually glowed and sparkled, giving her body a pink tint. Her skin was a rosy dark brown color and thick chocolate curls tumbled down her back. Her voice wasn’t nearly as squeaky as Dipper expected someone of her size to have. She was around four inches tall and had a slender build. The area around her translucent wings sparkled.
“A fairy!” Dipper exclaimed.
“I’m certainly not a hamburger,” the fairy replied. “Though I do so enjoy them. I haven’t formally introduced myself! I’m Analiese, Guardian of the Tulip Field! Though I don’t do much guarding. There’s nothing to guard the flowers from, and we let anyone who wants to pick the flowers. I mean, if you’re going to be silly enough to eat the hallucinogenic flowers, be our guest! Although it might be that we’re too small to get any benefit from the tulips. The ratio of fairy to petal is…” Analiese snatched a petal off of Dipper’s tulip head and held it up to the light. It was wider than her and almost as tall. “Too big.”
“Well, I’m Dipper.”
“And I’m Pacifica Northwest.”
Analiese somersaulted, landing upside down in the air. She giggled. “Weird names. Mine’s almost as weird as yours!”
“Uhh . . .” Dipper said.
“Relax!” She laughed. “Even if you don’t take it as a compliment, it wasn’t intended to be an insult either.”
“Uh, great, I guess,” Dipper stammered.
“I got the flowers,” Pacifica announced. Smiling, she held up a bouquet of tulips she’d improvised using a spare hair tie from her purse.
“Want to walk back with me?” Dipper ventured.
“Were you going to leave me here?” There was genuine alarm laced through her voice.
“Uh, no, wasn’t planning on it. Definitely wasn’t. I was just thinking . . .”
“That it’s getting late and a sunset walk through the forest would be romantic!” Analiese declared.
Dipper and Pacifica looked at the fairy in total panic. Then at each other. Then back to the fairy.
“Oh,” Analiese said. Dipper and Pacifica thought that, with the tone Analiese used, she realized that they definitely didn’t think of each other that way. We don’t, right? Dipper thought. Analiese, meanwhile, continued brightly, “You’re too young for that kind of thing! Sorry, human age comparative to height vexes me. Anyway, since this isn’t a private thing, can I join you? It’s been a while since I’ve had company and I could really use a hamburger.”
“Actually, I was thinking I might stay here for a little longer. Dipper can leave if he wants to,” Pacifica said.
“You that anxious to get rid of me, Northwest?”
“If I was, you’d know, Pines.”
Their faces were inches away from each other. Dipper was kind of freaking out at how close they were. Yeah, they’d hugged a couple times last summer, but they were practically staring into each other’s eyes. That was something that happened in Mabel’s age-inappropriate romance novels. And her age-appropriate romance novels. And her high school drama movies. And–
Analiese zipped up right in between them and ruined the moment. She squinted as if trying to figure out a complex equation. “Are you friends or not? I can’t tell if this is like… rivals with romantic tension or friends who are clueless that they’re in love, or friends where at least one of them knows but neither wants to say anything… what’s going on here?”
Dipper and Pacifica broke apart, both spluttering. “We’re not in love!” Dipper said.
“Yeah! I don’t want him to kiss me on the cheek!” Pacifica replied.
Dipper turned on her, bright red. “Why are you still thinking about that?” He wouldn’t let her know that it was also still in the back of his mind–wondering why he’d said that in the first place, thinking that he wouldn’t actually mind doing it–wait, no. He couldn’t be in love with Pacifica Northwest!
“Because you put it in my head, dork!” And definitely not because she liked him! She didn’t! (She did.)
“So you’re both in denial,” Analiese said cheerfully. “But don’t worry, you still have so many years to properly court. You’re too young to think about this stuff yet. I think.”
“I mean, I was crushing on one girl most of last summer, and Mabel’s had several boyfriends,” Dipper pointed out. Mabel would be telling him to get out of his own head if she were here. She’d be very supportive if she knew–he still remembered her cackling over his entry on Pacifica in Journal 3. He’d swiped it from her sticky hands, but she’d crowed that she was onto him. And she’d seen him look up Pacifica’s pageants when she saw his internet history and jokingly called him a creep.
…Come to think of it, that wasn’t a normal thing to look up, was it? They were barely friends. Maybe he was crushing… a little bit… or a lot…
The fairy shook her fists. “Cut me some slack, I already said I don’t know how old you are compared to your height! By the berries and the bees of the forgotten trees! You’re giving mixed signals here. Personally, I think that you both want to kiss and are in denial.”
Pacifica looked at Dipper. (He sees me. He sees the real me. He pushes me to be my best. I wouldn’t be where I am without him.)
Dipper looked at Pacifica. (I can be myself around her. I don’t have to impress her. It wouldn’t be us if all I was doing was trying to impress her. I can go back and forth with her all day.)
Eventually, Dipper decided to do what Mabel did all the time and take a risk. “Analiese might have a point,” he said.
“Yes! I’m always right!” The fairy exclaimed, doing a loop-de-loop.
“Let’s never introduce her to Mabel,” Pacifica whispered.
Dipper snorted. “So… you didn’t answer…”
Pacifica smiled and pecked him on the cheek. “That a good enough answer for you, Pines?” She was blushing as she stepped away.
“Um…” He hadn’t expected her to actually kiss him. Albeit on the cheek. Which was what they had been talking about earlier, why was he surprised by this? “Uh. You like me?”
“Obviously! And you like me back,” she said.
“We have a vibe, don’t we?” Dipper had a grin that felt big and stupid on his face, not quite meeting her eyes. He was terrified. He was thrilled.
“We do. I think we have a good thing going.”
“I wouldn’t want to lose it.”
“Northwests don’t lose.”
“I guess you’re stuck with me then.”
She threw her arms around his neck, leaning in. He smelled like sweat and pine and gross teenage boy, but she’d weather this smell every day for the rest of her life if it meant he was there too. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she whispered.
“Analiese! Since you helped us get out of our heads, can we do anything for you?” Dipper questioned when the two of them pulled apart.
“Oh yeah. Get me a hamburger!”
Dipper and Pacifica looked at each other for the thousandth time that day. (Both of them could exchange a thousand more looks and they’d never get tired of seeing the other.)
“We can do that,” Pacifica said. “Ever go to Greasy’s? They’ve got pancakes, coffee omeletes, and burgers that’ll probably give you salmonella.”
“Ooh, there was this one time where one of my sisters got really bad food posioning from an apple cobbler and flew all the way to the moon. I don’t remember which sister. I have eight hundred and seventy-two of them,” Analiese said.
“Wait, you’ve been to Greasy’s?” Dipper asked. “And fairies can breathe in space?”
“And you have eight hundred seventy-two sisters?” Pacifica said incredulously.
“Yepperoni!” Analiese replied.
“Lazy Susan says I can interview for waitressing when I turn fourteen. Why are you looking at me like that? So I want a job. It’s not a big deal. Then I won’t be relying on my parent’s money for everything, at least.” Pacifica explained to Dipper.
“Good for you?” He replied.
“Yes. It will be,” she replied.
Before he could overthink it, he snagged Pacifica’s hand and started walking along, holding her hand. He paused. “You coming, Analiese? We’re going to Greasy’s to get you your hamburger, after all.”
“Yes!” The fairy zoomed up to them and hovered over Pacifica’s shoulder as the trio went to buy a thank-you hamburger for their wingwoman.
(If Mabel was here, she’d probably snicker and say “Heh. Wing -woman.”)