Hi! First off, I'd like to thank anyone who's stuck with the story this long. I'm glad you like it. Anyway, this is just me stepping in to make an important note because I don't want people to assume something and stop reading if they don't like what's happening. Any of you who read this chapter might suspect Dipper x OC approaching. Well, I'm here to assure you (or disappoint you, I guess, depending on your view) by saying that it's not going to happen. What happens between the two of them is for more significant reasons than creating a romance. Scout's honor. And no, I'm not wearing Mabel's sweater with the crossed fingers on the back. ;) Enjoy!

Chapter 6- The Bookkeeper

I sneak downstairs that night, more confident now that I've done it once before. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I look over to Bill- who is providing me with a small bit of light by his glowing- and speak. "Alright, let's head over there and do what we've been waiting for."

I start to tread over towards the kitchen when I hear a voice. "Abigail?"

I whirl around in alarm to see Mrs. Gleeful, with her usual frightened look, standing a few yards behind me. It's the first time I've seen her without a vacuum's handle in her grip. "Mrs... Mrs. Gleeful!" I say quietly.

Confused, she asks, "Wh... what are you doing up?"

Desperate, I sneak a glance at Bill. He thinks for a moment and then comes up with an excuse. "You wanted to join a group of kids heading out but you were scared to ask, so you decided to go in secret."

I tell this to Mrs. Gleeful and she looks at me for a moment. "Oh. Well... go ahead... It can't hurt... I guess..."

"Thank you," I tell her, and turn around in a hurry.

Then, "Abigail?"

I turn to her nervously. "Yes, ma'am?"

She looks concerned. "I... If there's something you need to tell me... Please... Please do..."

I'm a little disturbed at the suggestion. "Of course, ma'am," I lie, and then I head out the door.

We make it to the Mystery Shack without any more problems. "Alright," I tell Bill. "But how are we gonna... get in? Break a window?"

"No, no!" he says scornfully. "I've already worked it out for you, kiddo. There's a window that the handyman always forgets to close, and he opened it today. Just follow me."

I obey, letting him lead me back towards the gift shop. He was right about the window; that Soos guy had left it open. "Not a smooth way to enter," I say, "but it's better than busting through a door or something."

It isn't fun, but I manage to carefully jump up, grab the window's edge, and hoist myself over into the shack. "OK," I whisper, "we'd better make this quick. Where's the vending machine?"

"Over here," Bill says, not bothering to lower his voice. It's not like anyone can hear him, anyway. "This one." He pats the gray one next to some T-Shirts. I walk up to it.

Studying it, however, I realize that I'm not sure how to get through. Do we need to break it? Push it aside? It looks too big for me to just... move.

"There's some sort of code," Bill says, and I have to wonder if he just read my mind again. "I think you need to press this-"

A light shines onto us and I jump.

"Abigail?"

I turn.

Bill lets out a swear. "Pine Tree."

I have no idea what he means. All I see is Dipper Pines standing about four yards away from me, in front of a door, a flashlight in his hands.

"...Hi?" I say awkwardly.

His eyes shift from the left to the right. "Why exactly are you in our house?"

"Uh." I look at Bill again and he sighs.

"Fine. You got dared to break in by those teens you told Mrs. Gleeful you're hanging out with. Got it?"

I look back at the kid. "I... got dared to do it."

He frowns. "By who?"

I try to think of a name and I say the first one that comes to mind. "Wendy. Wendy Corduroy."

His eyes widen. "Wendy dared you to break into our house?"

"It was a harmless joke," I tell him. "I'm pretty sure they ditched me anyways. I don't think the other teens like me all that much." I look out the window. "Yeah. They're gone."

"Good work, kid," I hear Bill say. "You're a great liar."

"Why're you poking around the vending machine, then?" asks Dipper.

"I, uh... They told me that I had to prove I'd really broken in by getting a soda from it." Warily, I ask, "What are you doing up? Did you hear the noise?"

"Oh, no," he tells me. "I just... I had a really bad nightmare. One of the worst ones of my life. Don't know why. And when I woke up I just felt really hungry. So I snuck down here for a midnight snack." Then, with a small smile, he asks, "Are you hungry?"

I'm surprised at the question. "Um, yeah, I guess."

As he walks over to the door labeled, "Employees Only," I ask, "Aren't you... mad?"

Turning toward me with another smile, he asks, "Do you want me to be? Cuz I can kick you out if you want me to."

"Well, no, but..."

"C'mon," he says, and nods his head towards the door.

I raise an eyebrow and try to hide my suspicion. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Pushing the door open, he lets me through first and then closes the door quietly. "Let's get something to eat. I'm starving."

As he walks ahead of me I look at Bill, silently pleading for help. He just shrugs. "We can't break into anything while he's around. Just humor the guy."

I examine their house. The living room has an old, shabby armchair, coupled with an equally shabby television. Next to the armchair is a dinosaur skull. Is it fake?.. real?... I can't tell in this dim light. The wallpaper is peeling, the place smells stale. It's ancient, that's for sure. And not well kept up with, either.

Dipper gestures for me to sit down at the table and I obey. Looking up and examining the lamp, I realize there are mirrors in it. The boy sees me looking at it curiously. "Stan cheats at Poker," he tells me candidly.

"Ah," I murmur tartly. This family was full of liars.

Well... I'm lying too...

I push the thought away.

"Sorry that all I can do is heat up hot dogs," Dipper chuckles, and I look at him standing next to the microwave, pressing buttons. Buttons like the one on the vending machine. Ugh. I need to be grabbing those journals, not having dinner with a twelve year old criminal-in-the-making.

"It's not like I was expecting a five-course French meal," I tell him with a grin. He looks at me with a small smile on his face, then turns quickly back to the food.

"Hm," says Bill, and I look at him. He may not have a mouth, but I can tell he looks happy, with his lower eyelid pulled up and his brow furrowed in thought.

The boy finishes making his midnight snack and places it in front of me. "Oh, thanks," I said. "I could've fixed mine."

"Don't bother," he says, and sits next to me. I look at my food with worry. He's not... trying to poison me, is he?

"It's fine, kid," Bill mutters, but he's still looking at Dipper with fascination. "Nobody's gonna die tonight."

Alright then. I need to get to business. "Hey, that video you showed me was pretty cool. Do you have any more?"

He nods. "I've got plenty."

I cock my head and try to sound innocent. "Where on Earth did you find out about all that crazy stuff, anyway? The people here seem pretty reluctant to talk about it."

"Oh, y'know," he says, and I see him unconsciously reach over to his left with his right hand, as if feeling for the jacket vest that isn't there at the moment. "I'm nosy."

"I can tell."

He smiles awkwardly.

"Are you gonna touch your food?" I ask.

"Oh!" he exclaims. "Oh, yeah!"

I chuckle. This kid needs some help with social situations.

"Your sister says you're always reading," I say, and take a bite of hot dog. "What do you read?"

He shrugs and glances at me. "Just, y'know, mysteries."

"Not surprised. I am surprised you don't read about the, uh... the supernatural, though."

I see him reach to his left again; he never notices when he does that. That must be where he keeps the journal; it explains the bulge in his vest. Dangit. How am I gonna get that journal when it's always so close to him? I mean, I'm sure it's up in the attic where he sleeps, right now, but that would be hard to get to if I tried. I need to find some way of getting him to show me.

I've been too lost in thought and when I snap out of it I'm still looking at him. He's thinking too, though; I wait for him to finish.

He looks at me and I see another awkward half-smile creep onto his face.

"Can I show you something? Outside?"

"Outside?" I ask, and the worry creeps back.

"You're gonna be fine, kiddo," says Bill. "Remember, I'm here."

He's right. He's promised no harm will come to me while he's around. "OK," I tell Dipper.

Excited, he stands up. "I'll get my stuff," he says. "And a flashlight for you." Then, another almost shy smile. "Be quiet; we don't want anyone catching us." He runs upstairs.

After almost no time at all he comes back down with his vest, which is bulging again. He's got the journal with him. He's also wearing his baseball cap, which only somewhat covers his insane, disheveled brown hair. "Let's go," he whispers, and we head out the door into the woods.

Eventually, after looking around once, he does it. He pulls out the book, which has a golden hand with the number "1" on it. "What's that?" I ask eagerly.

"You'll see," he says, and stopping for a moment, he flips it open to a certain page. "Follow me." He takes off at a jog and I follow.

There are a couple of unexpected twists and turns in his route, but altogether it's not hard to follow him. Eventually we arrive at a clearing that seems to be a haven for mushrooms. Tucking the book back underneath his vest (dangit, Dipper), he scans the area with his flashlight. "Jeff?" he calls out. "Hey, Jeff? Come out."

"Hey!" says an irritated voice. "Some of us are trying to get some sleep, here!"

We turn and shine our lights on the ground. I gasp. A small man with a brown beard and a pointy hat shields himself and curses. "Crap! So bright! What are you two doing here? You don't want us doing any more of your dirty-" He notices that there's someone he doesn't recognize. "Oh," he says, and looks me up and down. "Hello."

"Ew," I say, taking a step back.

"Excuse Jeff," Dipper says with a roll of his eyes. "Jeff, this is Abigail; Abigail, this is-"

"DIPPER!" calls a distant voice. "DIPPER? WHERE ARE YOU?"

The boy grimaces. "Dangit," he says. "Jeff, don't kidnap her or anything. I gotta go." He turns to look up at me; I'm not too much taller than him, but I am taller. "I hope I'll see you soon," he tells me. "This was fun."

He starts to run off. No, dangit. No. The journal!

"The journal..." I sigh quietly.

"Hey, doll," says the gnome, and I turn back to him.

"What?"

He frowns at me. "Don't talk to me with that tone. Yeesh. I was just trying to tell you that that kid's bad news."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really?" I ask.

"Mm-hmm. Tried to get me to kidnap this kid once. What did he call him...? Gid... gid..."

My eyes widen and I nearly grab the small man in shock. "Gideon?" I ask him urgently. "Was that his name?"

"Yeah!" he says, pointing at me in surprise. "You know him?"

"Oh, I know him all right. Thanks Jeff."

As I start making my way back home, I look at Bill. "I'm really sorry we... Whoa. What's got you so happy?"

It's true; he looks extremely satisfied with himself. "We failed," I tell him.

"Maybe," he says, "but I've got some great news." Pointing at me and waving his finger in a circle, he says, "That kid has got the hots for you."

I laugh. "He likes that Wendy girl, remember? You saw the letter, didn't you?"

"So what? He's twelve years old, he's capable of being attracted to multiple girls."

"What does it matter?"

"This is an advantage, sweetie," he tells me. "He'll tell you everything. All you gotta do is-"

"Ohhhh, no," I tell him. "No way am I going to pretend-"

"Really? You're gonna let your cousin rot in jail because you don't want to fake affection for a twelve-year-old? Really?"

I sigh. He's right. Gideon's in jail. That Dipper kid tried to get him kidnapped... if not worse. I can't just stop now. Not after all I've found out, and after all I've done.

"Alright. I'll do it."