"Boosh!" Wendy yelled, snapping her fingers and pointing at the screen. "You got owned!"

"Yeah, yeah," Dipper grinned, watching as her character disembowelled his on the game screen. "Laugh it up. I'm just out of practise so when I get back into the swing of things-"

"Oh, what's that?" asked Wendy, cupping a hand to her ear and cocking her head. "I think I just heard an excuse. Guess somebody doesn't like being beaten so badly by a girl."

Dipper scoffed. "If that were true I wouldn't spend so much time with you and Mabel," he said as they made their way to another game in the arcade, this one a shooter that they had to take in turns as the second gun was stuck in the holster with warning tape and a sign stating it was out of order.

"So I think we've got enough time for one more game before my shift at the Shack starts," Wendy said as she fired at the mutants coming down the dark hallway. "Anything you want to try?"

"Well, everything, really," Dipper admitted. "The arcade back in California is a lot harder to get to so I don't get to go often. And they don't have all the same games. No Fight Fighters, for example."

"Sure you want to play that?" Wendy asked as she unlocked a rocket launcher and went wild on the abomination charging at her. "Won't Rumble and .GIFfany get mad?"

"I don't think that's how it works," Dipper said with an uncertain frown. "I think it's a bit like Wreck-It-Ralph? I mean, Soos says he's been here a few times and .GIFfany's never attacked or even stalked him. He's seen her in a few loading screens but that's about it and she's never been too interested in him. I guess she's too busy making sure that Rumble doesn't fool around or something?"

"Yeah, I don't know who to support on that one," Wendy grunted. "A cheater or a stalker? Not sure if either deserves the other."

"Well Rumble just beat me up and tried to kill Robbie," Dipper pointed out. ".GIFfany tried to murder Soos, Melody, me and Mabel. Mathematically speaking, I'd say that's worse."

"Ugh!" groaned Wendy as she managed five headshots in a row. "Please don't talk about math! Let your big brain have a rest! Summer's meant for dumb things, let it rot with videogames and snacks and stupid crap."

"How are you so good at this?" Dipper demanded as he watched her finally miss an enemy. "Do you practice every day or something?"

"Nah," Wendy shrugged. "Just got great reflexes. Besides, it's way easier to hold this than a real gun. No kickback or anything. Plus, the infinite ammo is nice."

"Huh," said Dipper, considering the plastic shotgun she was firing and loading with ease. "I've never even held a gun before. What's it like?"

"It's not for everyone," she said, pausing her assault to give him a serious look. "Not everyone has it in them to hold one and there's nothing wrong with that. I like them but I also like axes and kicking monsters in the face. I've grown up with them but that doesn't mean everyone should. They're dangerous and Dad always made sure we knew all the safety measures by heart before he'd even let us hold an unloaded weapon."

"Sounds like a good idea," Dipper said slowly. "Grunkle Ford said the same thing when Mabel asked to use his laser pistol. He gave an hour long speech about safety and risks and stuff. Mabel lasted about ten minutes before she got bored and tried to make her own version with confetti. Besides," he added, "I don't think Mom or Dad would like it if we did have a try. I mean, they weren't happy when they saw one of Mabel's scrapbook pictures where she held a crossbow. They had a big, loud talk with our Grunkles when they came over for Hanukkah."

"Ahh, Hanukkah," sighed Wendy wistfully. "Another holiday I don't get to experience. Uh, it wasn't rude that I only sent you guys a Christmas present but not anything for Hanukkah, was it?" she asked. "I mean, I didn't even know you celebrated both until-"

"Nah, it's fine," Dipper said dismissively. "It's really only because Mabel insists we celebrate both. And that's just so we get more presents. Just sending us a Christmas present is fine. Even if she says otherwise, just ignore her. We get plenty and it shouldn't be about the presents."

"Dude!" She laughed. "You sound so old! Of course it's about presents and cookies and Christmas trees and whatever it is that happens at Hanukkah! That's the whole point! Makes life fun! Better than being forced to fend for yourselves in the woods with your family," she grunted.

"I don't know, I think that sounds kinda fun," Dipper said. "Well, to me at least. I mean, I've liked the lessons you've been giving Mabel and me. Wouldn't it be more of that? Learning to fend for yourselves, all the tricks-"

"Being yelled at constantly, no shower, no phone," Wendy countered. "Forced to make your own bed, shelter, food, putting up with your brothers wrestling and then knocking over whatever it was you just built because two of them wanted the same stupid stick for their tent and they just have to throw each other into everything they see."

"Okay, yeah, that sounds tough," Dipper agreed. "But at least it helped you with Weirdmageddon and-"

"Shh!" hissed Wendy, looking around quickly, leaving an opportunity for the mutants to finally reach her. "Don't say that word in public places!"

"Oh!" said Dipper, looking around in embarrassment. "Sorry! I just-"

"Not your fault," she told him firmly as she finally succumbed to the sheer number of mutants and watched the game calculate her score. "Look, dude, I'm on your side. I hate calling it Never Mind All That more than anybody. But you need to be careful. You can't - you can't say it in places where kids can hear you."

"Oh," said Dipper. "Oh," he said again, much more quietly as he thought about how badly the adults had been affected and thought of how much worse the children of the town must have suffered.

"Yeah," Wendy sighed miserably, thinking of Mabel. She watched her friend and knew from the change in his expression that his train of thought had also led to his sister. "How is she?"

"She's fi-"

"Dipper," she said. "It's me. Tell me. Please."

Dipper looked at her and glanced around but saw no one else at the corner of the arcade they were habiting. But he still didn't want to take a risk that they could be overheard so he took her by the hand and pulled her towards a simulator game with curtains that offered them more privacy as he inserted the tokens and sat on the seat, letting the opening cutscene play to cover their conversation. "I don't know," he told his friend. "I think that time travel incident got to her more than we first thought. I mean, she already blamed herself for all those people but now I think she's blaming herself for the Cipher Cult thing too. That the people they've killed are her fault. She's been to see Professor Passuum every day, Wendy, and that's good but Mabel said the Professor told her that things are probably going to get worse before they get better. And - and I don't know how much worse they can get."

He rubbed his arms awkwardly, still not used to wearing one of the numerous hoodies Wendy had bought for him that covered his arms. "She's crying a lot," he told her. "And Mabel doesn't really cry, Wendy. But sometimes she'll be singing or dancing or doing her art or just a random Mabel thing and then she'll stop suddenly and she'll get this look in her eye, like she's just realised something terrible and she'll make an excuse to leave for a minute. But we all know what she's doing." He pulled the ushanka off his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "She always comes back with red eyes and she's quiet for a while. We don't know what to say to her or even if we should say anything," he sighed. "I just wish I knew what to do."

"You're doing it, Dipper," Wendy told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You're there for her. She already knows you're always going to be there when she really needs you and you're not pushing her. What happened is something that's hard for her to talk about, especially with people she loves. But she's seeing the Prof so you know she's talking to somebody."

"Yeah," Dipper sighed as the game over screen appeared. "I just wish there was more I could do."

"Dude," she said, her voice firm. "Look at me and my brothers. We drive each other crazy! You are, like, the best brother I've ever seen! And I'm not exaggerating when I say that. I've never seen anyone take such good care of his sister, especially not when Mabel can be so hard to handle sometimes. But you always look out for her anyway. Mabel doesn't need you to do more, you're the best damn brother in the world!"

"Hmm," said Dipper, his tone uncertain as they left the simulator to return to the shooter Wendy had been playing. "Oh, hey," he said, distracted by the screen that was still waiting for player input. "You got a high score! Nice!"

"See?" Wendy elbowed him playfully. "I told you I had good reflexes. But when this other gun is fixed you and me are going to decimate these suckers. Real monsters don't stand a chance against Corduroy and Pines so these fakes one are so doomed," she said as she selected the first three letters of her name.

"Wait," said Dipper, grabbing the fake weapon to stop her targeting the confirmation button, his eyes narrowing as he read the top ten list. "Hold on, don't confirm it yet," he told her before he ran to several other games in the arcade.

Wendy raised her eyebrow and watched him dart about before he returned to her, his brow furrowed in concentration. "We good, man?" she asked him. "So what was that about?" she queried when he nodded and she finally put her name as number eight on the top ten.

"See that?" The boy pointed at the top name on the scoreboard. "That's the first place on pretty much every shooter and racing game in here. I was just wondering who it is." He narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Who is PEN? Is it short for a first name? Maybe it's the first three letters of a nickname? Why are they so good? It's a mystery," he muttered quietly, thinking hard. "A mystery I'm going to solve."

Wendy crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow again. "Seriously?"

"What?" asked Dipper, confused by the tone in her voice.

"You're Dipper Pines," she reminded him. "The kid who discovered the Society of the Blind Eye. Defeated Gideon in his giant robot. Found that secret bunker. You've been back for almost three weeks and the first mystery I hear you mention is who's the best player in the arcade? How bored are you?" she demanded.

"What?" he said, turning red. "I mean - it's still a mystery! Not all of Sherlock Holmes' cases were amazing! There were hints that he did more in between the big ones and - yeah, okay, pretty bored," he admitted, faltering under her stare. "But I solved so many last year!" he pointed out. "It's like all the big mysteries were tied together and now we know about Grunkle Ford and that McGucket was the Gobblewonker so I'm kind of stuck." He fidgeted uncomfortably. "It's not my fault if I solved most of the mysteries last year," he muttered.

Wendy rolled her eyes. "You know what, I won't judge. You be you. But don't expect me to help you stake out this place if this is the best mystery you've got. I want real adventure." She took out her phone and checked the time. "I've gotta go anyway."

"Okay, let's go," said Dipper, tearing his eyes from the high score.

"Actually, dude," Wendy said slowly, "I think you should just stay here. Solve your mystery. Or at least play some more games."

"...Why?" he asked, the suspicion at her tone evident in his voice.

Wendy sighed. "Look, dude, I'm going to be straight with you," she said, taking a knee to look him in the eye. "I'm worried about you."

He blinked in surprise at the expression on her face as she said it. "What? Why? I'm fine, I'm-"

"I know you're fine," she said. "But I'm still worried. You've been hanging around Mabel all summer. Every day. I know you two have a great relationship but you even wanted Mabel to join us for dinner and movie night at my place when that's always been our thing."

"Well I just thought-"

"Dipper," she said. "You know Dad likes our meat fresh. Remember how freaked out you were the first time you saw him skin that deer? I don't think Mabel would have gotten over that as quick."

"Okay, maybe she shouldn't be there for food," Dipper agreed. "But I think the movie night would-"

"She'd hate it," Wendy said with confidence. "Whenever she's seen us do it at your place all she ever does is make fun of us. And you're not really doing it because you want her to have fun, it's because you want to have fun but more importantly you don't want to leave her in case she needs you. Look how hard it was for me to get you to come to this arcade without her. It's great that you want to look out for your sister but you still need some time for yourself."

"I don't know, Wendy," he said, glancing at his watch. "I mean, we've been here for a long time and what if she needs me?"

"If she needs you she can call you," Wendy said, taking off his hat and hitting him with it lightly. "Use that big brain! It's what phones are for. If we need you then the Stans or Soos can come pick you up or take her to you. I know this summer hasn't been as fun as the last," she said quietly. "And that it's been especially tough on Mabel. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't have some fun for yourself, Dipper. It's what Mabel would want," she added as she saw him struggle with the decision. "She wouldn't want you to stop having fun for her sake. She already feels guilty for too much already. She wants you to be happy."

"Alright," he said eventually. "But if she needs me-" he began quickly before Wendy cut him off.

"She won't. 'Cause she's got us. There's no Gideon or Cipher anymore, Dipper. No big bad to torment you. She won't go deep into the woods for an adventure without you and she's got Candy and Grenda with her right now and even when they leave she'll still have the rest of us. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, sticking his hands in his pocket and hunching his soldiers in defeat.

She grinned at him at punched his shoulder. "Look at you! Moping 'cause someone older than you gave you good advice. You really are a teen!"

He chuckled and said goodbye to her, looking at the games around him. Wendy was right, he did need some time to himself. He felt slightly guilty about leaving Mabel but also knew that if their roles were reversed he would rather his sister still have fun instead of following him all the time. And true, this wasn't a mystery like the Author's identity, but maybe that was what he needed. Something a little small, childish even, just to ease him back into things after being away for so long. Besides, he reasoned as he tried the game that Wendy had excelled at before, this was Gravity Falls. The next adventure was probably just around the corner.

Just around the corner, the sorceress stepped off the bus and looked around the town with a disappointed frown. Everything looked so...normal. This was meant to be the place with the greatest concentration of magic in the world? According to her research it was and she was very proud of her accuracy, especially in regards to the study of magic, something that usually laughed in the face of the scientific method before adding a slap and dancing into the starry night on a stairway made of rainbows.

But Gravity Falls didn't seem too different from any of the other hick towns she'd visited on her travels. The weirdest thing seemed to be a man criticising a woodpecker, but she'd seen people with stranger pets than that, even in the cities. Then again, the lack of fantastical sights could just be poor timing on her part. The rules of magic were fickle and sometimes magical creatures or anomalies would hide themselves if the circumstances were not right. Which could mean she was on the wrong street, arrived on the wrong day of the week, or even just wearing the wrong pair of socks.

Night would make it easier to learn more. Most magical creatures and events seemed to prefer the dark for some reason. She could cast a few spells later to prove that her research had detected what her eyes couldn't. If she had time. She had a deadline to meet and her clients had promised her a hefty bonus if she accomplished her task even earlier than she had originally told them. Which was unlikely but she wasn't rich enough yet to dismiss that kind of money.

She had already booked a room at the motel just outside of town and settled in nicely, securing her potions and most of her charms behind a 'do not disturb' sign, a locked door and several protective wards that would messily destroy anyone foolish enough to touch her equipment. All she had with her now were a few charms she kept for protection, one or two potions for emergencies, and her laptop. Besides, if all else failed she still had her mind and that had never failed her.

She walked into the diner and settled into a booth, nodding a obligatory greeting at the older waitress with the bad eye as she pulled her laptop out of its bag and checked the information on her first acquisition, the only one that had been specified. Which made things easier, since trying to find the right qualifications for the other two would be frustrating and likely time consuming. Her customers had been adamant that she cast the spell on all three of them at once, which also meant she couldn't get her bonus straight away. They had been a stubborn bunch and she would be glad to complete this job, spend their money on a little vacation and never have to deal with their whining again. That well deserved vacation was so close now...

She was just thinking of the sun at the resort when her first target appeared right beside her.

"What can I get you?" Pacifica Northwest asked the teenage girl with the dark clothes, darker hair and expensive laptop.

The girl gave a start at the younger teen, looking her up and down. "You work here?" the older girl asked her in surprise.

Pacifica looked down at her waitress uniform, noticeably cleaner than everyone else's but still clearly the same as the others, albeit smaller. "Obviously," she grunted, almost rolling her eyes before she caught herself. Easy, Pacifica, she reminded herself. Happy thoughts, less sarcasm, more polite greetings and introduce yourself the way you'd want someone to introduce themselves to you! "I mean," she cleared her throat quickly. "Hi," she said again, trying to smile at the older teen who was watching her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm Pacifica. What would you like?"

"Er, this," said the sorceress, selecting something that sounded somewhat appetising from the menu. "And a coffee. Black."

Girl really likes her black, Pacifica thought, taking in her clothes. But she never said a word as she wrote down the order and excused herself.

The sorceress turned back to her laptop and made a few notes on the document she'd made on Pacifica Northwest, realising that the first part of her mission might be even easier than she expected as her food arrived and she ate in silence.

"Aren't you Pacifica Northwest?" the sorceress asked when Pacifica returned to refill her coffee and clear her plates. "I recognise you from your picture in Better Families Than Yours magazine. Why are you working here?"

Pacifica hesitated, a part of her wanting to tell the stranger that it was none of her business but unsure if that was perfectly normal response to a question like that or a rude, Old Pacifica response. "A girl needs to earn her own money," she said at last, hoping her answer was vague enough and making a mental note to ask Dipper or Mabel about the appropriate responses to such a question.

"I hear that," agreed the customer, nodding sagely. "Girl's gotta be independent, not rely on your parents for support! Mind you, it's easy for me to say that since I don't have any."

"Oh," said Pacifica, guiltily remembering the many jokes she and her parents had made before she had learned that mocking people without parents was generally frowned upon in polite society. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's fine," the older girl said with a dismissive shrug. "Like I said, taught me independence. Look at me, still a teen and already starting my own business. That's why I recognised you, I know all about rich people because I'm going to be one someday. You wait and see."

"Uh," said Pacifica hesitantly, hearing something in her tone that reminded her a bit too much of her old self. "Listen, Miss, I've been rich. Insanely rich. Now I'm just wealthy but I still do this job to make sure I've got my own money, not just my Dad's. And I'm way happier. I might miss my ponies but the friends I've made since losing most of our money have more than made up for it. It might be cliché but money isn't everything."

The older girl nodded, considering her words. "Well, you're right about that," she agreed. "I like my job. Makes me proud that no one else can do it as well as I can. Sure, I could do other things with my talents, make the money come in faster. But I want to excel at this, you know? Make my name known. Let people know that I've earned my riches instead of just inheriting them."

"Uh, right," said Pacifica, who came from a long line of people who had inherited riches they never deserved. "That's admirable. So what kind of business is it you do?"

"Right now I'm just doing a bit of headhunting," the older teen answered with a scowl. "Total waste of my talents but you've got to work your way to the top, right? Besides," she added with a grin, "the rewards feel twice as good when you know you've put in the work to earn them, am I right?"

Pacifica smiled, thinking of how the few dollars in tips she made could make her feel better about herself than a million dollar necklace ever did before her family lost their status as billionaires. "Yeah," she agreed, as she gathered the cutlery. "That's definitely true. I just wished I'd learned that when - ow! "

"You okay?" asked the dark haired teen, looking at her in concern before she saw the blood dripping from the tip of the blonde's finger. "Oh - here, let me help you," she said, taking some paper napkins and wrapping them around the finger.

"Thanks," said Pacifica, surprised that she had managed to cut herself so easily on the knife. "I'll be back in a minute," she said, rushing to wash the wound. When she had done that and added a band-aid to the small cut she returned to find the customer gone, the coffee drained and the the money on the table. "Huh," she said, counting the tip. "Maybe she's not like the old me after all."

Outside, the sorceress bit into one of cakes the one-eyed waitress had suggested to her, claiming that the Northwest girl had made them herself. "Not bad," she said, considering the treat. Then she took a silver cigarette case from her jacket, opening it to reveal a variety of liquids held in long, slim glass vials. She took one of the empty vials, uncorked it and held the blood stained napkin above it, muttering under her breath so the blood cleanly separated from the paper to land in the glass before she returned the cork and put it back in the silver case. "Target acquired," she said smugly as she finished the cake and wiped her mouth with the now perfectly clean paper.

Dipper looked through the notes he had made about PEN. So far he had gathered that they were obviously skilled, at shooters in particular, but were also adept at several racing games. Some of the games were especially difficult, leaving him to suspect that whoever they were, they enjoyed a challenge. Their name hadn't come up yet on any of the older games, so clearly they either cared more about graphics than he did or just had poor taste. Or both.

He bit at the pen thoughtfully as he considered the name. PEN. What was that short for? He couldn't think of any male names that started with those three letters so maybe it was a girl? Penny? Penelope? He couldn't think of any others and going to the library to search for names would be more fun than just looking them up online. If it was a girl, that could make his search a bit easier and a bit more interesting since there weren't very many girls who visited the arcade. Candy did but as far as he knew Wendy only dropped by when one of her friends also felt like going, just like Mabel. Of course, he could just ask Soos or one of the people who worked at the arcade if they knew who it was but that would take all of the intrigue out of it. He paused his chewing as he thought about what Wendy had said.

She was right. He was bored. Not because he thought that he'd solved all of the mysteries in the Falls, he felt sure that there was more out there than any one person could find in a lifetime. Ford was proof of that since he'd told Dipper repeatedly how impressed he was with all of the discoveries the younger twins had made that first summer, believing that the summer somehow brought out more of the weird and the wild than any other time of the year.

But there was no big mystery anymore. The adventures of this summer had been different. They'd seemed smaller in scale, less epic. He now knew most of the strange goings on in town. Last year alone he had been in the supernatural black market, helped defeat an eldritch being, played his part in saving the world. This time there was no big mystery, and no big bad either as Wendy had put it. Which was a good thing! He should be pleased with himself. And he was. But he just wanted...more.

"Great, now I sound like a Disney princess," he muttered, then quickly looked around to make sure that no one had heard him. Which is when he saw a figure, dark hoodie pulled up, sunglasses on despite the low lights of the arcade, making their way towards one of the more difficult games with an approach that was so obviously planned to avoid drawing anyone's attention that it couldn't not be noticed. Thankfully, this was an arcade so everyone was too focused on the screens to even give a glance at the person failing so miserably at stealth.

Dipper stared at them, recognising them instantly despite their attempt at a disguise. "You have got to be kidding me," he said, as he saw them play the game with obvious expertise and even more obvious relish. Shaking his head, he made his way towards them and stood behind them until they had finished and added their initials to the high score again. "Pacifica Elise Northwest," he sighed, making her jump. "I really should have figured this out sooner."

"Dipper?" she asked in surprise, turning red under the hood and sunglasses. "What are you doing here? How did you know it was me?" she demanded.

"First, it's an arcade and I love video games," he answered. "I've been looking forward to coming back here all year. Secondly, I've been wondering who put those high scores on. Everybody else I know uses the first three or four letters of their first name or something like that. Then I saw you and put two and two together. And that's not a very good disguise. I mean sunglasses and a hood? Seriously? You know you're the only person in town that size who can afford sunglasses like that. Also, I can see your blonde hair under your hoodie and the hood itself looks weird with that bell hair style thing you have going on. Are you glaring at me? I mean, your mouth tightened but I can't see anything else with those big glasses so I'm assuming you are."

She removed the glasses to reveal that she was indeed glaring at him. "Keep your voice low, alright?" she hissed at him. "I don't want people to know it's me."

"Why?" he asked, perplexed. "Because you're a Northwest? I thought you were past that whole thing about pretending you're above everybody else?"

"That's not it," she said, putting her glasses back on. "I just - I just don't want people to know I'm a girl. Understand?"

"No," Dipper said, even more confused now. "Why would that matter? I mean, Mabel, Candy and Wendy come here and they're all girls. Why should you hide it?"

"It's different for them," she grunted. "I get - I get hit on, okay? By a couple of guys who like to make comments. And I'm not comfortable with it. I just want to come here after work and blow off some steam. Not to deal with guys and their stupid jokes."

"Oh," said Dipper, coughing into his fist. "I, er, I can't really give you advice with that," he admitted.

"Gee, what a shock," she said and he could tell she was rolling her eyes behind the glasses.

"Look, why not talk to Wendy?" he suggested. "She could-"

"No."

They looked at each other in silence for a moment.

"What is it with you two?" he asked her. "When Mabel said she was going to spend last Thursday with you, Wendy got the same look in her eye I imagine you've got now. What happened?"

"That...that's between us," Pacifica answered with a shrug. "I don't need to be friends with all of your friends, do I?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then it shouldn't matter why we don't like each other. Look, I just came here to have some fun, I don't want to talk about Wendy, okay? Not everyone likes her as much as you do," she muttered before she saw him flinch.

"That-" he rubbed his arm uncomfortably as he avoided looking at her. "That isn't any of your business," he finished, regretting his words but not enough to offer any alternatives.

"Oh! No!" she said as she saw him turn red. "I'm - I didn't mean it like that! I just-"

"It's fine," he grunted. "Just - just leave it okay?"

"Dipper, I am so sorry," she said , removing her glasses again so he could see the regret in her eyes. "Please let me make it up to you, okay? You want a game? I'll pay and I can give you some tips?"

He glared at her for a moment, embarrassed at just how clear his feelings were to everyone when all he really wanted was to finally move on and angry that she had reminded him of that. Then he took a deep breath. "It's okay," he said, offering her a small smile. "I know you didn't mean anything. I just...you know what? Never mind. I'll pay my own way but I'd love to play a game or two with you. Got any recommendations?"

She grinned. "I might have a few," she said.

She showed him several of the shooters, her speciality, but also one or two racing games, giving him several pointers that helped him. The pointers were useful but they couldn't make up for the lack of experience with them and he was never near the high score on any of them but he still enjoyed himself. In return, he showed her several of the older games which she struggled with but admitted weren't as bad as she had thought they would be and agreed to give them a chance again in the future.

"So you've fought this guy?" she asked him as Rumble McSkirmish launched a spinning kick. "For real?"

"Yeah and those pixels are sharp," Dipper grunted. "That was not a fun day. For a number of reasons. Hah!" he cried as landed the final blow. "Success!"

"Okay, maybe fighting games aren't too bad," she said as they walked away from the game. "But I'm still an FPS girl. What?" she asked, catching the smile on his lips.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "It's just that I beat you at that game and you didn't get upset. Being number one isn't a big deal any more. I'm glad you've changed."

"Oh," she said. "That. Well, yeah, I still like to win. A lot. But you're right. It's more important now that I have fun. Plus it helps that Dad isn't always on my back about it."

"Uh, yeah, how is your Dad?" Dipper asked, uncertain what to say about Preston Northwest without insulting him in front of his daughter.

"He's still a jerk," Pacifica grunted. "But it's not as bad," she said quickly. "I mean, we don't need to be the best at everything now that we're not rich enough to get away with insulting people and then paying them to thank us for it. Yes, we did that. He's focusing on work a lot more now, trying to get the family fortune back again. Which is tricky since he's having to pay to fix the mud-flap factory because that's actually cheaper in the long run than bribing the environmental agencies and papers to not talk about the pollution. He also made a big deal about the Nathaniel Northwest statue being destroyed. Arguing that it's a representation of the Northwest name and that it should be fixed. Of course, he can't afford to put too much money into it himself so he wants the town to pay the rest but nobody else wants to."

"Yeah, Ford suggested they melt it down and make a statue of McGucket instead," Dipper commented. "I think that's a good idea. He deserves it after the way he was treated by the town for so long."

"Yeah," Pacifica said quietly, remembering the way she had also made fun of the old man. The old man who had never said a bad word about her in all that time, treating her with nothing but kindness. Even the first time they had encountered each other after he had bought the Northwest Manor, he had only told her that any of the items from her old home were hers if she still wanted them, never mentioning that the last time they met she had to be pressured into even holding hold his hand. "I think he's the best choice."

"You weren't the only one who was unfair to him," Dipper said as if reading her mind. "But he's forgiven all of us so the least we can do is let him know we're sorry and that we'll do better." He checked his watch. "Anyway, I'd better go. I, er, I had fun, Pacifica. It's good to find someone who likes games as much as I do. We should do it again."

"Okay!" said Pacifica, clearing her throat when she realised she'd said that too quickly. "I mean, yes. Definitely. Tomorrow?"

"Um, I've made plans for tomorrow," Dipper said, not mentioning who those plans were with. "What about the day after? Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Pacifica agreed, nodding too quickly before she caught herself. "I mean, sure. I'm only working that morning. Same time?"

"I'll be here," Dipper promised as he waved goodbye to her.

"It's a date," Pacifica said as she waved back. Her eyes widened as she realised what she said and froze mid-wave but relaxed when Dipper didn't react, unable to hear her over the sounds of blasters, explosions, engines and beeps. "Okay," she told herself, sliding into a convenient racing game as her knees wobbled. "He didn't hear you. Not that it would matter. Why would it? Not like I meant it's a date-date. Just two friends. That's all. I mean, he comes here all the time with Wendy and they're just friends. Aren't they? Of course they are! They'd better be. Yep. All the time. With Wendy. So this means it's nothing special. Nothing special at all." She saw her reflection in the game screen, androgynous and forgettable. "Maybe I should wear something nicer. Just this once."

Back in her motel room, the sorceress closed her laptop with a groan after the exhausting video chat with her clients. Why did so many people complain when they asked her to cast a spell? Magic wasn't instant access to miracles. She wasn't a goddess! If she were, she wouldn't need to sell her talents like this or at least wouldn't need to put in so much work for their money. They'd probably seen too many episodes of Sabrina the Teenage Witch and thought it was as simple as a finger point. She considered her clients' ages and then decided that was a bad example. Bewitched or I Dream of Jeannie would be much more likely, all that instantaneous power in the blink of an eye for comedy's sake. Honestly, if she had that kind of power she wouldn't need to waste her time with people like them, would she?

She lifted the vial with the blood and glared at it. You think they'd be happy that she'd found the first so quickly but noooo . They wanted all three right here and now. You could give some people the moon and they'd complain that you hadn't gift-wrapped it first. She briefly considered making a voodoo doll of her clients while she could but decided against it. It would take too long and just lead to even more complaints. She'd rather they be out of her hair than in pain.

Instead, she returned to the laptop, scrolling through the other town residents she had managed to gather information on. But the information was basic and there was no point in going through all of them. Instead, she selected the person that best matched the criteria one of her clients had given her, vague though that was. But if it didn't work out for them then that wasn't her problem. She'd put in the effort, make the instructions as detailed as possible just so they couldn't blame her when they eventually messed up. The whole point of instruction manuals wasn't just for the user's benefit, after all. It was also so the company couldn't be blamed when the idiot who didn't read them got themselves killed.

So she did the work regardless, just to protect herself. She was too smart to leave these things up to chance. She read about her next target and saw that they worked at a local tourist trap. That would be the best place to look first and even if she wasn't there she could just cast a spell to locate her later. Maybe she'd also find someone else who would meet the requirements for her final client? She made her way to the small bed and waved away the wards she had placed on the old-fashioned doctor's bag where she stored most of her essential magical equipment. "One down," she said as she carefully stored the vial with Pacifica's blood inside. "Two to go."