Chapter: You're My Sunflower (I Think Your Love Might Be Too Much)

Pairing: Dipper Pines/Pacifica Northwest

Word Count: +4,500 words

Disclaimer: All properties belong to their rightful owners

(Your Heart And My Heart Are) Very Old Friends

Chapter X

Uncle Ford

Surprisingly enough, it's Uncle Ford - of all people - who starts bringing it up.

It's a pleasantly warm autumn afternoon and Ford is making a mess in the Mystery Shack dining room, getting ready for yet another interdimensional trip. The sound of wind chimes alerts him to his protege's arrival, but Dipper greets him anyway. "Hey Uncle Ford, we're back."

Ford's just finished packing all his notebooks when Dipper comes into the room, his pretty blonde friend in tow. He vaguely recalls her name to be an ocean of some sort. She waves at him politely but seems more interested in what he's splayed out on the table than actually starting a conversation or making eye contact with him. That makes two of them.

"Here's all that stuff from the list you asked me to pick up," Dipper says as he poured out the contents of his worn leather messenger bag unto the table. He fishes a piece of paper from his pockets and checks everything off. "Pyrite quartz...a black candle...rosemary...and - Pacifica, could you hand me that last thing?" Oh. Pacifica.

"A horse hoof?" she says, sounding amused as she picks it up. "Do you need it for good luck?"

"It's a unicorn hoof, actually," Ford says politely, taking it from her and putting it into his suitcase. "Thank you."

The girl looks a bit taken aback, and Dipper chuckles under his breath before he continues, "A gram of salt...a quarter pint of chicken blood...What's the bottle of vodka for?"

"Oh, yes, yes, that. Encircle that, you mustn't forget it. It's very important. Makes me feel better about ripping a hole in the universe."

At that, the two seventeen-year olds exchange odd looks, but Pacifica just shrugs.

"Did you finish packing yet?" Ford asks his great nephew.

"Uh, yeah, think so. Just let me run back upstairs real quick and double check to see if I brought everything."

"Alright, but hurry. We're leaving after dinner. You know how wasted Rick can get in the evenings," he adds that last part under his breath as he zips up the last of his suitcases.

At that, Gruncle Stan enters the room and laughs, "Which is why he and I always got along better at night."

"Hey, Dip, how long will you be gone?" Pacifica asks him offhandedly.

He shrugs, slings his bag over his shoulder, and makes his way up the staircase. "Couple days, I guess, really depends."

Ford looks over at Pacifica for a second, thinking, then looks over to Dipper. "You can take your girlfriend if you like."

"What? She-She's..." Nervous laughter bubbles up in his nephew's voice, and he has to clear his throat before he continues. "Uncle Ford, no, she's not my girlfriend."

Stan chortles at the look on Dipper's face.

"Oh, well then, apologies," he nods at Pacifica.

She smiles, "It's not big deal," but Dipper is still beet red. He resumes walking up the stairs again, though this time with more pronounced awkwardness in his gait. Pacifica seems unfazed and maybe even a little entertained.

"Just thought you might get a little lonely since I'll be away with Rick most of the time and I might not be around to keep you company and..." Ford resumes packing but then stops abruptly, calling out to Dipper. "Why isn't she your girlfriend?"

Dipper almost chokes. "U-Uncle Ford!"

This time, Stan can't help but erupt in laughter. "Aw, man, good one, Ford. Real smooth."

"What? I was just - "

"How about we leave the kid alone, huh, Pointdexter? You're embarrassing him! Anyway, if it's help with the ladies Goober over here needs, you might be the wrong Gruncle to give it."

"Okay, now you're both embarrassing me," Dipper says in a strangled voice, while Pacifica laughs quietly beside him. "So now Pacifica and I will just go outside where you will no longer be within hearing distance, hopefully."

"Oh, Dipper, there's no need to be embarrassed," Ford continues even though Dipper is walking faster and faster away from him. "Pacifica's a wonderful girl. It won't be long before some other guy realizes that. In fact, I'm sure many already have. Mabel tells me you're quite popular," he tells the last bit to her, and she smiles humbly.

"Oh, it's the family name, really."

Uncle Ford smiles in approval, "And so modest, too. See, Dipper? Ask her out now before it's too late. Otherwise, you'll regret it."

"I regret a lot of things, Uncle Ford. Having this conversation tops that list," Dipper says through gritted teeth.

"Dipper, I'm serious. In fact, I'll even do it for you, if you're too - "

"Goodbye, Uncle Ford! See you after dinner!" He says before he slams the door in a hurry. By the time the heat and blush has subsided from his face, he's not quite sure who's laughing harder: Pacifica or Gruncle Stan.

Mabel

"May I have this dance?"

Dipper looks up from his cup of raspberry red punch to see Gravity Falls's favorite blue-eyed blonde smirking up at him in true Northwest fashion, all half-tilting lips and alluring mischief.

He winces a little at her. "Sure you wouldn't rather just sit down here with me?"

She folds her arms across her chest and pouts, "Come on, this is a party. You're supposed to dance, not sulk."

"Who said I was sulking?"

She raises a perfectly tailored eyebrow at him, "I'm sorry, is sitting in a corner all alone, drinking punch your definition of having fun?"

"No," he huffs, "but neither is the winter formal. I'd rather be at home, finishing up my case."

She rolls her eyes, "The case can wait, Dip. Tonight, the pen is not your friend, the journal is not your friend. The party is your friend. I'm your friend-"

"I didn't know you knew how to use the f-word," he cracks a smile.

"And as your friend," she continues as if she didn't hear him, but she's raising her voice now and trying not to laugh, it seems. "I'm asking you to come out and dance with me. Come on."

He shakes his head and tries to let her down gently. "Paz, I'd really rather not -"

"Look," her expression hardens into a determined look. "I'm not going to beg you. But I will ask you - very very strongly - to come dance with me. I've been watching you all night and I feel bad. Come on, I'll be your 5-minute date so you can actually experience what it's like to attend a high school dance for once in your life."

He looks up to meet her eyes, then. Even when her lips are pressed into a thin line, her eyes still sparkle like she's smiling. Try as she might try to hide it, she enjoys their banter. And as much as he'd hate to admit it, this is probably the most entertained he'd been all night. Though the thought of squeezing himself into a crowded dance floor full of rowdy - and, let's be honest, probably drunk - teenagers makes him want to shoot himself in the foot with his blaster, he gets up anyway. "Alright, fine. As always, you win."

She looks pleased with herself as she leads him to the dance floor, and it takes a lot out of him not to enjoy it too much. "Always, huh?"

"Did I ever tell you that you're bossy?" he says with a resigned sigh, more for show than anything else.

"Yes," she rests her hand on his shoulder, guiding his to her waist, and they begin to sway. "But I've told you not to tell me that. Now spin me."

He complies, twirling her in place once. He rests his cheek comfortably against the top of her head and whispers. "People are staring at us."

"People are always staring whenever we're together," Pacifica says matter-of-factly. "I'm surprised this is the first time you've ever noticed."

"Where's your date anyway? Why are you out here tormenting me instead of Julian?" He says his name mockingly, but there's really nothing to mock. Julian was the guy Pacifica had been seeing for the past couple of months, a senior in her art class. He was a very easy-going, down-to-earth kind of person, with a good-looking smile and impressive chess skills. Dipper actually liked him quite a bit (certainly much more than any other guy Pacifica had dated before, especially since they seem to spend most of their time together talking about books and films over coffee instead of...well, Dipper didn't even want to think about what kind of stuff Pacifica got up to with her ex-boyfriends...).

"Oh, I dumped him," she remarks without missing a beat, sounding so flippant she might as well have been talking about the weather.

He's a bit taken aback by this, so he just nods, unsure of what to say next. They just silently sway together for a while. Until..."I'm sorry."

She gives him a pointed look. "Don't be. There's nothing for you to be sorry about."

He knows she hates pity, but this isn't it. He persists despite her avoidant gaze and tightened grip. "I know, but you're my friend. Maybe it was hard for you - "

"It wasn't."

"Maybe you want to talk about it - "

"I'd rather not"

"Maybe…" he fixes her with a solemn look, "Maybe you want to talk about why it wasn't hard for you."

She shrugs noncommittally. "Things were fine, and...he was great, actually, but...I don't know. I always do this. I always end things just when they're about to get good."

"Why?"

"I don't know," but she's saying it like she does know. "Because...because maybe I don't really believe it's going to work out in the end, and so, I just make sure it doesn't."

Dipper contemplates this for a while. "That's stupid."

"Yeah," She rests her forehead against his shoulder while they sway. "It is. Let's not talk about stupid things anymore."

"Alright. What do you prefer we talk about?" He says. "Our weekend plans?"

"What's good on TV?"

"Our math homework?"

"The weather?"

"The - "

"OH MY GOLLY!" From all the way in the other corner of the dance floor, he can hear Mabel hollering, "Oh my golly oh my golly oh my golly - Dipper! Are you actually dancing? With a girl?"

"Uh, Mabel, I…" Dipper flusters. If he thought the few people staring a while ago was uncomfortable, the number of onlookers Mabel had attracted now was utterly mortifying.

"Oh my gosh, your date is Pacifica! How adorable!" Mabel squeals, dashing over to come talk to them. "Why didn't you tell me? Hey, Dipper, brobro! Hey!"

"I'm so sorry," Dipper says under his breath to Pacifica. "God, this is so embarrassing, she's going to think all sorts of things, and start asking all these questions - "

She lifts her from where it was resting on his chest, chuckling. "Don't be embarrassed. Come on, let's go talk to your sister."

"DIPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRR! Oh my gosh, so when did you two start dating? Have you made it official yet? Who asked who out? When did it happen? How did it happen? GAAAAH I wanna know every detail!"

Well, so much for actually having some fun, Dipper thought. This was going to be a long night.

Marco

Dipper is sitting by his usual spot in the shade of a tree in the corner of the schoolyard when his friends approach him in excitement.

The first one, a lanky seventeen-year-old in a red hoodie, with dark chocolate brown locks and even darker brown eyes skids to a happy halt as he exclaims, "Dude! I am so ready for that Star Wars marathon! Thank god it's Friday!"

"He is very excited. He's making nachos," his second friend, another brunette named Wirt, says with his hands in his pockets.

Dipper shoots them a guilty look, "Hold on, guys, can we hang back for a few minutes?"

"What? Why? We're losing precious TV time right now, Dipper," Wirt taps his watch impatiently.

"Yeah, come on, man, I've been hyped for this since Tuesday," Marco whines.

"I know, I know, I'm hyped for it, too. But I promised Mabel I'd watch her try-outs, I'm sorry," Dipper smiles apologetically. "Why don't you guys go ahead and I'll catch up?"

"What? No way man, we're not leaving you. We'll wait with you," Marco says. "Besides, we can't just leave you alone with a bunch of cheerleaders. They'll chew you right up."

Dipper elbows him in the shoulder, and Marco laughs.

"Ch-Chearleaders?" Wirt flusters. "Dipper, I don't...I don't think we can be in the same room as cheerleaders."

Dipper rolls his eyes, slings his bag over his shoulder and starts walking. "Don't be so dramatic, Wirt. Some of them are friends of ours, right Marco?"

"Oh, yeah, Star's on the team, too, and..." Marco shoots Dipper a knowing look, "And so is the girl Dipper's been crushing on lately."

"What? Who?" Wirt exclaims curiously.

"No one," Dipper quickly rushes the pair along, making sure to kick Marco in the shin. He misses, and Marco snickers. "Marco's just making assumptions."

"Am I, Dip? Because I'd bet you my favorite hoodie Mabel's not the only reason we're watching cheer tryouts," Marco smirks.

Dipper elbows him in the ribs, and this time Marco winces before chuckling again.

They make their way to the gymnasium easily, surprised to find only a few people there. "I expected a crowd," Wirt says. "Where is everybody?"

"Probably enjoying their weekend like we should be," Marco says with a sigh.

"Why are you complaining? Star's here," Dipper scans the flock of red-and-white clad, pom-pom wielding girls for a jumpy, blue-eyed blonde.

Marco rubs the back of his neck, "Uh...Star and I aren't really...on good terms right now."

"What happened?" Dipper asks, but Marco doesn't answer. He only looks at the girls in front of them, looking over their clipboards and evaluating tryouts.

Wirt whispers to him, "Marco sort of...made a move on Star when she was still dating Tom, and now he's all torn up about it."

"Oh." Dipper immediately feels bad for bringing it up.

Wirt, on the other hand, attempts to divert Marco's attention to another topic. "So, Marco, which one is she?"

"Which one is who?" Dipper asks in confusion.

His friends only smirk at him.

"Oh, not this again! For the last time, you guys, I - "

"It's the blonde sitting behind the table," Marco answers, completely ignoring him. "The one with the clipboard."

"Oh my god!" Wirt slaps Dipper's arm so hard he almost loses his balance, "PACIFICA NORTHWEST?! Are you kidding me?!"

"Shhhhh! Keep your voices down!" Dipper clamps his hand over Wirt's mouth and stares daggers at Marco, snickering beside him. "I told you, Marco's just making assumptions. "

A few cheerleaders and some girls sitting by the benches look over, and Dipper sinks lower in his seat. He makes a mental note to dig into Marco's business extensively when he gets home and find some juicy payback.

"How long?" Wirt asks, his expression a cross between amused and curious.

"I told you, I-"

"Probably since sophomore year, when they became lab partners," Marco says.

"Oh, okay, so you're both just going to talk over me like I'm not - "

"Wow, two years now? No wonder Dipper hasn't been interested in anyone for so long. I always thought it was just because you were so in love with that journal of yours," Wirt teases.

"Ha ha. Wirt, you're both hilarious," he deadpans.

"I mean, it makes sense," Marco interjects, "She is exactly your type, Dip."

He furrows his eyebrows at that. "What? Blonde and bratty? How is that my type?"

"Oh, come on! Don't pretend like you don't at least find her attractive," Marco says. "Almost of all of Gravity Falls High already does."

"You know, I can see Marco's point. Pacifica is smart...She's witty...She's confident..." Wirt lists off on his fingers.

"She takes none of your nonsense. She's cool, she's popular, she's fun to hang out with and she's...well, I mean..." Marco gestures to where Pacifica is sitting, scribbling notes thoughtfully. "She's the prettiest girl in almost every room."

"You both sound like you're in love with her," Dipper rolls his eyes. "She's just a friend, okay? Maybe even less than that."

"Really? Didn't seem that way when I saw you two together in Chem," Wirt remarks airily.

"Or when we ran into her in the coffee shop the other day," Marco adds helpfully.

"Or that time before the pep rally last month," Wirt nods. "Or - "

"Look, I'm not..I'm not completely oblivious, alright? I know Pacifica's great and she's pretty and she's...I don't know, maybe I do like her. Maybe there is something there. But I also know," Dipper looks down on his lap, "That if there is, it's not something that's going to last. We're just too different."

Wirt nods and pats his shoulder. Dipper suspects this is because he might feel the same way.

But Marco frowns, "I don't know, man, I think you're selling yourself too short. I think she feels the same way about you, but the problem is, she's waiting for you to make your move. I mean, that's exactly how it was for me and Jackie."

At that, Dipper fixes his gaze on Pacifica, her sunflower blonde hair in a high ponytail, cascading against her icy blue eyes and freckled nose and red lipstick. She smiles at one of her friends, and something inside him sinks.

"Sorry, Marco, but I think you're wrong about this one," Dipper says with a strained smile. "Just because you got the girl doesn't mean we all can."

Wendy

"Hey, dude, I'm leaving in a couple of hours," Wendy remarks, getting up from behind the cashier and checking her watch. "Throw me my keys, would you? They're on the table, to your right."

Dipper looks up from what he was doing and tosses her the keys. "You heading straight to Berkeley later?"

The redhead nods, changing the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. "Yeah, my class starts at 8 tomorrow and I'm having dinner with some friends tonight. Wanna come?"

Dipper gives her a look, "Uh..thanks for the invite, but I can barely get by at a high school party. I think a college party might just kill me."

"No, dummy," Wendy nudges him playfully. "Come out to the drive with me. Come see New York."

He raises an apprehensive eyebrow, "And do what?"

She shrugs. "I don't know, watch a musical. Go to Central Park. See the Statue of Liberty. Visit your friends," Wendy says the last one a little bit more suggestively.

Dipper stops writing and looks at her. He's taken aback for a moment before he feels the embarrassment sink in once he realizes that Gruncle Stan probably told Wendy all about how Pacifica, the last of Dipper's friends, had just gone away to Columbia University earlier that week and how he wasn't exactly coping so well with all of them gone.

"No, it's fine," he forces himself to sound nonchalant, going back to what he was writing. Still feeling Wendy's apprehensive look lingering on him, Dipper smiles politely. "I'll probably visit them sometime soon."

"Sure?" Wendy is fixing her hair in the mirror, but she glances at him when he nods. "Alright, if you say so."

"Have a safe trip. Oh, and don't forget this," he hands her a can of her favorite cherry cola.

"Thanks." She opens the drink and takes a sip. Her bag and the rest of her things are all on the counter, the keys in her hand, her hair newly brushed. She was all ready to go, but for some reason, Wendy leans back against the fridge for a bit and just takes her time drinking. He tries not to look at her.

Finally, she says, "They're good kids, you know, your friends? I'm glad you got yourself a nice crew."

"Thanks," Dipper clears his throat, hoping that she takes it as a sign to stop talking.

She doesn't.

"I'm really gonna miss Marco. Man, he made the best nachos, and he was always so much fun to talk to. We share a love of Mackie Hand movies, you know." She tips her can at him.

"Trust me, I do. You might be the only two in town."

"And Wirt, I gotta admit, I didn't like him much when I first met him, but he's grown on me. I like him a lot now. And Pacifica, well, Pacifica is..." Wendy trails off meaningfully.

"Cool," Dipper finishes almost unconsciously. He regrets it the second he does because now Wendy's concern has shifted into scrutiny and Dipper can't help the blush creeping up his face. What an idiot, he completely fell for her little trap.

"Cool, huh? You think so?" Wendy is trying to sound casual now, but Dipper's not buying it. She smiles at him cheekily. "You know, most guys would said gorgeous, but not you."

"I mean...that's not to say she's not pretty...I-" Dipper flounders, trying hard not to look up from where he's inspecting the spine of his journal much too thoroughly.

"Oh, so she's cool and pretty?" Wendy echoes his statement, grinning even harder now. "Interesting choice of words. Say, Dip, don't you have a thing for cool girls? I mean, that's what I heard from - "

"Excuse me, I think I hear someone calling for me," Dipper blurts out, getting up from his seat. He makes it a point not to look at Wendy when he hastily gathers all his belongings and leaves.

This was all Mabel's doing. He's absolutely positive.

Dipper

It's nothing new for Dipper to be praised for his intelligence, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't still enjoy it.

Even back in the first grade, his favorite toy was a hot rod red race car he wired and constructed himself. He spent most of his time solving riddles and watching crime shows. His favorite thing to do was figure out the case before the show's detectives could, so by the time he reached 12, he was pretty well-versed in crime lingo and forensic science. He also made it a point to memorize all 118 elements in the periodic table by the time he was 15 (his idea of a cool party trick).

Emotional intelligence aside, Dipper is, without a doubt, one of the smartest people in the entire town. Maybe even one of the smartest most of them would ever meet in their lives, considering his young age. That isn't arrogance. It's the truth.

But it isn't until his eighteenth birthday however, that he realizes he doesn't really know anything. Not anything worth knowing, that is.

He and Pacifica are drudging home late at night towards the Mystery Shack, exhausted from a whole afternoon of hiking in the woods in search of Gremlins. Dipper promised it would be a simple reconnaissance mission, that they would spend a while looking for their habitat only to observe the creatures from a safe distance and then leave unnoticed.

In hindsight, he should have remembered right from the start to leave his phone on silent mode. He would have preferred to study about Gremlin savagery and fighting prowess from a book rather than firsthand experience.

Now, a couple of hours later, they head home in silence. Everything is deadly quiet, save for the crunching of twigs and grass under their steps.

Once they reach the Shack, he unceremoniously plops onto the couch while she heads straight to the shower to wash off all the mud and dirt from the forest. Everyone seems to be fast asleep. Slowly, he peels off his shirt and starts cleaning a few minor wounds and scraping off the dried blood from his arms.

It's only when Pacifica sighs that he notices she's finished taking a bath. He looks up at where she's leaning by the doorway in a fresh change of clothes, hair damp and dripping all over the carpet.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I know what you're going to say."

She smiles coyly. "And I know what you're going to say. Save it. It's fine."

"Alright." He knows better than to argue with her.

She sits down beside him and hands him a shirt and some bandages. "Let me," she gestures to the cuts on his arm.

"No, it's fine, I can do it," he says even as she's already wrapping the bandages around his wounds. She looks sleepy, he thinks. I like the way she looks when she's like this.

"Thanks," she says absentmindedly.

Oh. He hadn't realized he said that last bit out loud.

"You know, sophomore year in AP Chem," she smiles, "I never in my wildest dreams imagined that...the pompous jerk sitting next to me would end up being one of my favorite people in the world."

"One of them? So you're saying I have some competition?" He jokes.

"Oh?" She smirks. "So you're saying I don't?"

He looks away and clears his throat. "Anyway...Why are you saying all this?"

"Because, as annoying as you are, Pines, you mean a lot to me, and..." she gestures towards the clock hanging on the wall, having finished wrapping his bandages. The hands tell him it's a little past midnight. "You just turned 18. Happy birthday."

He leans with his elbow propped on the couch and returns her smile. "Thanks. I completely forgot about it."

"Sorry I didn't get you anything," she sounds genuinely apologetic. "I didn't know what you wanted. I had a few ideas, but we've both been so busy lately. I haven't gotten around to it yet."

He bites back a smile. He doesn't know what compels him to do it. Maybe it was because, sitting there and looking at her with her sleepy eyes and shy smile, rambling on, he realizes that she is painstakingly beautiful and that she actually wants to be here, beside him, spending time with him. That she might actually not care about all the things that he worries about like how different they are and what it would all mean. And it hits him like a speeding bullet in the gut, how much time he's wasted. Still wasting. Now. Every second he's not...

And suddenly...

Suddenly, he's closing the distance between them and pressing his lips against hers.

To his surprise, she doesn't seem at all shocked. Quite the opposite, in fact. He feels her delicate fingers run through his hair as she parts her mouth to open up to his, and he slips his hands from her cheeks to her waist and pulls her in closer.

When she finally pulls away, Dipper smiles lopsidedly as Pacifica murmurs happy birthday against his lips before kissing him again.

"Guess we're gonna have to tell everyone they were right about us all along, huh?" She laughs.

He chuckles, breathes her in and closes his eyes to kiss her once more.

Atomic number 8, non-metal.

Hi! Hope you all liked this one, it took me a long time to get this done. I was thinking about writing a few quick Christmas-themed drabbles but I don't really have any ideas, so if you'd like to read that, send me some ideas. Oh, and can you believe this is the first time I've ever included Mabel (not counting the rev!falls one). For some reason, I find her character hard to nail.

As always, please leave reviews and tell me what you think of the new chapter. Happy holidays everyone!

xoxo Amaya