The most bizarre part of Pacifica's new life as Atlantica Southeast was how normal things felt.

Life in the Pines household wasn't anything like what she was accustomed to back home at the Northwest manor, but though it wasn't perfect she had found the changes all to be extremely agreeable. Instead of being seen as a burden, the Pines family seemed to have made a space for her that she found herself fitting into with surprising ease. Sharing a room with Mabel felt a bit cramped compared to having her own (much larger) room back at her parents' house but the experience of having a roommate was something totally new for Pacifica and she found that she really enjoyed it. Despite Dipper's earlier dire warnings about Mabel's unpredictability, Pacifica had found Mabel's eccentricity to be charming rather than annoying.

Well, mostly charming anyway.

Only mildly annoying at worst.

Either way, after the rather severe and lonely environment she had grown up in it seemed almost sinfully decadent to have someone around to talk to or hang out with whenever she felt like it.

Not that it took much prompting to get Mabel into a conversation of course. Looking anything less than ecstatic around the bubbly brunette tended to draw her in like a magnet, eager to see what she could do to bring a smile to your face. At first Pacifica had thought that Mabel had been doing this out of pity for her situation and had resented it a little, but a few days of observation had shown that she just seemed to behave that way around everyone that she cared about.

Keeping up with the foreign exchange student act had also become a little more natural over time as well. At first Pacifica had agonized over her every word, trying to make sure she kept up her French accent at all times. She had even tried to intentionally limit her English vocabulary as best as she could in case she slipped up and brought the whole charade crashing down on her friends heads. Just last week however she'd accidentally spoken completely naturally in front of Dipper and Mabel's mother and instead of being denounced as an impostor and thrown out of the house like Pacifica had feared, she had just been complimented on her excellent grasp of English.

Pacifica had been so relieved that she'd just managed to say a quiet 'Merci' in response before she had slowly retreated up the stairs to Mabel's room to hyperventilate for a few minutes.

Enough time had passed though that the sting of the incident had faded from her mind, and now she thought back on it with a smile. In the end she had decided that it was a good thing that it had happened since knowing that she could slip up now and then without immediately suffering for it allowed her to relax more easily into the role.

Pacifica wrote her real name out without thinking at the top of the worksheet and then gave a small grunt of frustration when she immediately realized her mistake. She quickly rubbed out the offending letters and wrote in 'Atlantica Southeast' in their place, trying to add a flourish to the unfamiliar characters to make them seem more natural. Obviously even two straight weeks of practice signing the alias hadn't been enough to erase the habits of a lifetime, and she always made sure to double check any assignment that she turned in just in case she accidentally gave herself away.

It never hurt to be too careful when you were a fugitive.

Well, calling myself a fugitive might be just a bit over the top, Pacifica admitted to herself.

Most fugitives probably don't have to do Calculus homework.

Pacifica turned her attention back to the assignment and set to work on the first problem, only glancing back occasionally at the notes she'd made in class. Math had never been one of her favorite subjects to study but she had developed a knack for it after all the private tutoring sessions she'd gone through back home. Her favorite of the tutors had once told her that the essence of math wasn't just manipulating numbers, but instead it was about teaching a particular way of thinking. It was all about learning how to take the information you were presented with and then re-arranging it to make sense, step by step.

It had made the subject seem a lot more interesting, but that still didn't make it much fun.

"Hey Lan, when you get done with your work do you think you could help me with mine? If I flunk one more test the teacher threatened to send me to night classes," Mabel asked suddenly, breaking Pacifica's concentration.

"Sure," Pacifica said. "And stop trying to make 'Lan' a thing. 'Paz' was already hard enough to get used to,"

"Lan is totally going to be a thing," Mabel said with conviction, "Anyway it wouldn't make any sense to call you 'Paz' if your name is supposed to be Atlantica,"

"It barely made sense to call me 'Paz' in the first place," Pacifica grumbled quietly as she turned back to her homework.

Another mental adjustment that Pacifica had to make was the fact that Mabel never referred to her as Pacifica. Apparently she thought it would be easier to stay 'in character', as she put it, by only calling her Atlantica. Lately though she seemed to have taken to trying to find a nickname that would fit with Pacifica's alias. Pacifica had been grudgingly forced to admit that even if 'Lan' wasn't a very good nickname that it was at least better than Mabel's earlier attempts of 'Atla' or 'Tica'.

Pacifica worked quickly, her pencil gliding easily along the page as she solved the various problems. Only a few of the later ones ended up giving her much difficulty, but a quick glance back at the textbook had reminded her of a crucial part of the formula that she'd forgotten. Re-armed with that knowledge she made short work of the rest of the assignment.

"I'm done with my stuff if you still need help with your math," Pacifica said from her space at Mabel's glitter encrusted work desk.

"I definitely still do," Mabel groaned from where she lay stretched across the bed, her nose inches from her Algebra II textbook as she glared at it accusingly.

Pacifica crossed the short space between desk and bed, craning her neck to look over the section her friend was working on. Mabel glanced up at Pacifica and then patted the space beside her on the bed companionably with a smile. The grin was returned slightly nervous and Pacifica gingerly sat herself down beside Mabel, stretching out along the bed on her stomach so that they were side by side with the book spread open between them. The coverlet stretched across the bed under Pacifica was still warm with body heat, and felt extremely cozy in the chill air of the room.

If Pacifica had to admit to a complaint about the Pines household it would probably be the fact that they kept their homes air conditioner at temperatures that she felt were better suited for storing ice cream instead of people. After a few nights of staying there she had decided that Mabel's love of sweaters wasn't so much a weird fashion quirk as it was a survival instinct, and she had ended up asking her new roommate if she could borrow a few. Mabel, of course, had taken the opportunity to knit her several of the life-saving garments of her very own in addition to the ones she loaned Pacifica. The sweater that Pacifica was currently wearing was done in the blue, white and red of the French Tricolore flag, with a small Eiffel Tower picked out in sparkling silver yarn in the center of the white band.

As Pacifica started looking over Mabel's doodle-filled worksheet she felt the bed mattress rock gently underneath her as Mabel scooched herself closer.

Pacifica fidgeted internally, but quieted down the sensation and turned back to the work at hand.

This had been one of the most difficult things for Pacifica to adjust herself to – the very physical closeness the Pines seemed to have with each other, especially Mabel. Pacifica hadn't considered her parents to be abusive, though Mabel and Dipper seemed to disagree with her strongly on that point. They had never struck her or anything as overtly violent as that anyway. They also hadn't really hugged her much either, and outside of posing for family photos for the local paper they seemed reluctant to even be too near her or even one another. Expensive easily wrinkled suits and delicately applied makeup all seemed to provide the perfect cover to avoid actually touching another person and Pacifica had grown used to a small smile from either of her parents as being the ultimate non-monetary expression of affection. Sometimes Pacifica wondered if she had been conceived by telepathy considering her parents apparent disapproval for any human contact outside of her father's handshakes with his business partners and her mother's hovering not-quite-on-the-cheek kisses that she shared with the friends that she cordially detested.

Living at the Pines household had definitely come as a shock to the system in that aspect since she'd already gotten more hugs after her first week living here than she could remember getting over the course of the rest of her life combined. Mabel seemed especially fond of them, and if she actually had a concept of personal space Pacifica had yet to see evidence of it.

"So, what parts are you having the most problems with?" Pacifica asked, turning her attention back to the assignment as a way to distract herself from Mabel's still-unfamiliar closeness.

Mabel turned back to the paper, removing the pencil that she had been balancing between her upper lip and nose and jabbing it viciously at the fifth problem on the page.

"It's this function stuff – I can do the easy ones, but once they get all long and super complicated like this my brain just goes pbbbbbt," she replied, punctuating the sentence with a short raspberry.

Pacifica looked closely at the problem on the worksheet and then turned to the open textbook to refresh her memory of the section. Mabel's personal notes were usually less than useful for these things, though the drawings were often pretty fun to look at.

"You can't let yourself get scared when you see a complicated problem – what you have to do first is see how you can make it simpler," she said, and Mabel craned her head in closer as Pacifica began to lay out the problem step-by-step for her.

By the time the last stray variable had been accounted for Mabel was practically pressed cheek to cheek with Pacifica as she had moved in even closer to not miss any of the steps.

"Geez, you manage to make this look really easy," Mabel said, "Now I feel even sillier for not getting it."

"It all just comes down to practice," Pacifica replied, "Just go back and re-read if things start to get confusing and eventually it will all click together for you,"

"I guess so," Mabel said in a skeptical tone.

She tugged slightly at the book and Pacifica passed the worksheet and pencil back to Mabel as she started working her way through the next problem. Every now and then she'd pause and turn to Pacifica who would nod along when Mabel was on the right track, or occasionally stop her and correct a small mistake before it could grow into a large one.

By the time Mabel was done with the eighth problem she was solving them on her own without any assistance. Pacifica shifted slightly, about to roll off the side of the bed now that her help was no longer required but Mabel gave a small sound of protest and Pacifica stayed put instead and started absentmindedly doodling a few drawings of her own in the margins of Mabel's notebook while humming tunelessly to herself.

"Thanks for the tutoring help," Mabel said, breaking the peaceful near silence, "You're actually way better at it than Dipper is – I just get even more confused when he tries to explain this stuff,"

"He's a really smart guy, but he does kind of have a habit of over-complicating things," Pacifica agreed, "There's no need for thanks though- I mean, you guys are giving me a place to stay, so helping you a bit with math homework is a really small trade."

"I guess so, but the thought of having to do extra math just sort of makes my skin crawl," Mabel said only half-jokingly, "To tell you the truth I'm not sure why you're even doing homework in the first place. It kind of sucks a bit out of the fun of running away from home don't you think?"

"Well I still want to graduate too, so it's a good idea not to let myself fall behind," Pacifica pointed out, "and besides Dipper went to all the trouble of helping to get me set up at your school so it would be ungrateful of me to just slack off."

"I still feel just a teeny bit guilty about that," Mabel admitted.

"I thought you guys said that altering a few memories wasn't too harmful?" Pacifica asked.

"Well, if it's just a few yeah," Mabel said, "but I think Dip may have had to put in a little extra work on the principal to get him to go along with the idea. I mean, he had to make him forget our school doesn't actually have a student exchange program for one thing."

"Oh," Pacifica said quietly, starting to feel guilt tugging at her own mind.

Mabel turned back to her friend with a slightly panicked look on her face.

"Don't worry though! Dipper said he's gotten a lot better at fine tuning the memory eraser so that it doesn't have as many long term side effects – plus the principal was always kind of a butt before and now he's a lot more fun!" Mabel said, giving Pacifica a comforting pat on the back.

I seriously had no idea just how much work they'd had to do just to get me set up here, Pacifica thought to herself.

A fake ID, a place in their home, spots assigned to me in their classes… they really went all out with this.

"Well, if you're really sure that it won't hurt him or anything like that then I guess it wasn't that bad to do," Pacifica said.

"I'm sure that if it was actually harmful then my bro wouldn't have done it," Mabel reassured her, "It's not really his style to go around hurting people for no reason."

Pacifica nodded and felt a bit of her earlier guilt lighten. Mabel knew her brother better than anyone, so she was likely right about this.

They turned their attention back to the remainder of Mabel's math assignment and in a short time Mabel had finished penciling in the solution to the final problem. She glanced up at the ticking eyes of the cat-clock on her wall with a grin when she saw that she'd managed to finish today's homework in almost half the time that she usually took.

"Lan, you've saved my evening!" Mabel exclaimed.

"Il n'y a pas de quoi," Pacifica replied with a touch of pride in her voice.

"Huh?"

"It was nothing," Pacifica clarified.

"It most certainly was something," Mabel objected "Any time that I don't have to spend face down in my textbooks is a time for celebration!"

Pacifica felt the beginnings of a smile tug up at the corners of her lips. Mabel tended to find causes for celebration as often as most people took breaths.

"Did you have anything special in mind?" Pacifica asked.

Mabel rolled onto her back and stared up at the plastic glow-stars that had decorated the ceiling of her room since junior high, idly kicking her feet in thought.

"Well, we could see if Dip's up for a movies-and-videogames night when he gets out of work?" she suggested.

"That works for me," Pacifica said with a grin.

A sharp pang of hunger that she had been ignoring over the past half hour suddenly made itself extremely noticeable, and Pacifica felt her cheeks flush pink when her stomach gave a loud growl.

"You should probably take five for some food though first," Mabel suggested, "You have been thinking for two for a while after all."

Pacifica rolled off the edge of the bed and made her way to the door, pausing at the door frame to glance back at Mabel.

"Aren't you going to want anything to eat?" she asked.

"No thanks, I've got enough secret candy stashed around here to last me through three apocalypses if necessary," Mabel replied, fishing around under a pile of stuffed animals for a package of concealed graham crackers.

Pacifica gave a shrug at that and made her way downstairs. Mabel's ability to live on a sprinkle-based diet was a mystery that not even Dipper had been able to get to the bottom of.

Though Pacifica had managed to more or less fend for herself while she had been living on the road she hadn't actually ever cooked a meal until she had come to stay with the Pines family. Mabel and Dipper's parents both worked extremely demanding schedules at their jobs, which meant that the twins had learned to be mostly self-sufficient at a fairly young age. For every one meal that the family had all shared together since Pacifica had arrived there were at least three where it had been the kids left to their own devices, with Dipper and Mabel usually playing rock-paper-scissors to see who had to do the cooking for the night.

It wasn't long before Pacifica had started to feel guilty for relying entirely on her friends to feed her. Her parents' prohibition against accepting hand-outs had implanted itself deeply into her mind at a young age, and she became determined to learn how to cook as well so that she could contribute. Of course Pacifica had only a vague idea of how food came to be at first since she had been firmly discouraged from spending too much time around the servants' areas as a child. It would never have done for the daughter of the Northwest family to have become too familiar with the little people after all.

Mabel had been especially encouraging of Pacifica's determination to learn the new skill, even after her first solo attempt at making a meal for the trio had resulted in the long scorch-mark that now marred the surface of the wall just behind the stove. Dipper had managed to explain the disaster to his parents by saying that Atlantica, being French, was used to metric stoves and had been unfamiliar with the settings on American appliances. As far as explanations went it was pretty weak, but Pacifica had been surprised to see how quickly it had been accepted without question. A small bitter part of her mind had also noticed that her friends' parents genuinely seemed to be much more concerned with making sure that no one had been hurt in the incident, and they hardly made any fuss about the damage at all.

Today Pacifica wasn't in the mood to try and make anything complicated, despite the growing confidence she'd had in her most recent attempts which had been merely odd tasting instead of completely inedible. She dug around through the pantry for a few minutes, sorting through the various cans and boxes until she'd decided on a large can of chicken soup.

Canned soup was something that even Pacifica would have been hard-pressed to ruin, but she had decided not to take any chances and kept her eyes glued firmly to the pot to watch for the first sign of smoke. She had been so intent on the task that when she heard the sudden sound of footsteps ringing out on the kitchen tile right behind her she had ended up jumping up startled, whirling around with the large soup ladle held menacingly out in her hand.

"Sorry," Dipper said quickly at the sight of Pacifica's frightened appearance, his own hands held out open in front of him to show that he was unarmed and had no cooking utensil of his own to threaten her with.

Pacifica felt her cheeks flush hot with embarrassment at her own overreaction and she quickly turned around to give the still-cold soup a quick stir with the ladle as if that had been her intent the whole time.

"When did you get back?" she asked, still not turning to face Dipper until she was sure that the heat in her face had cooled sufficiently.

"Just a few minutes ago," Dipper said, a note of weariness in his voice, "We ended up being short-staffed again so I helped cover for an extra half a shift until a real replacement could come in,"

"So you decided to cheer yourself up by sneaking up on me then?" Pacifica accused while flashing him a quick smirk.

Dipper slumped down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, rolling his head about on his neck and rubbing at a sore spot in his shoulder.

"What can I say? We all have our vices," Dipper said in his dry deadpan tone.

"Do those vices currently include hunger?" Pacifica asked, stirring again at the soup now that she had seen it start to bubble.

Dipper paused before answering, his eyes unconsciously drifting toward the burn mark seared along the stove wall.

What the hell, it's not like eating Pacifica's cooking is anywhere close to the most dangerous thing I've ever done, he thought, feeling a bit guilty with himself immediately after the words had popped into his head.

"Yeah, I didn't get a meal break during my shift so I'm kind of starving right now," Dipper said.

"Well the soups almost done, and there should be plenty left over since this can apparently feeds two and a half people. I'm not really sure where we can find a half a person to give the extra soup to though." Pacifica said.

Dipper smiled to himself at the silly tone of Pacifica's last comment. Close association with Mabel seemed to have been rubbing off on her more than she realized.

"Well, if we can't find one then I'll take their share - I feel like I have one and a half empty stomachs right now anyway," he replied.

The soup had only very slightly burned by the time that Pacifica had snatched two bowls out from a nearby cabinet and ladled the contents of the pot into them. She passed the heavier bowl over to Dipper, who accepted it with a look of gratitude and a slight wrinkling of his nose from the scent of scalded chicken noodles.

"Bon appetit," Pacifica said before digging into her own bowl.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, with only the sound of spoons clinking against ceramic to break the quiet of the house. Once the soup had cooled enough that they no longer had to concentrate to avoid burning themselves they relaxed and fell into conversation and Pacifica could see some of the tension drain out of his face. After the meal the two took their bowls to the sink and started washing up - well, Dipper washed and Pacifica dried. The finer points of the scrubbing brush continued to elude her and Dipper preferred to eat his meals out of dishes that didn't still have bits of dried food stuck to them. Halfway through the chore Pacifica decided to steer the conversation around to something that had been on her mind for a while.

"Dipper, do you like your job?" Pacifica asked after he had just finished telling her an anecdote about a strange customer who had come into the restaurant that day who had left the entire kitchen staff absolutely furious about the fussiness of their order.

"Um... I guess? A job's a job, right?" Dipper said with a shrug.

"Well, you just don't seem to say much about it except for things that annoy or frustrate you," Pacifica replied.

"Waiting tables doesn't really provide much material for stimulating conversation I guess," Dipper said.

"I guess not," Pacifica said, turning back to running the drying cloth over the bowl in her hands.

There was a brief lull while she took a pause to try and line up her thoughts.

"Still, it can't be all bad though, right?" she asked.

Dipper's eyebrows quirked in confusion.

"It's not the worst job in the world, yeah. Sometimes the tips can be pretty nice with the right customers. Why the sudden interest though?" Dipper asked.

Pacifica took a deep breath and breathed it out slowly.

"I was wondering if maybe... I don't know, if you could put in a good word for me with your boss or something," Pacifica replied quietly.

Dipper's jaw actually dropped slightly in surprise at Pacifica's unexpected request before he recovered and quickly shut his mouth again, hoping that she hadn't seen his expression.

Dipper had never considered the possibility of Pacifica actually working a job before. He tried to picture his friend who had grown up in a house larger than the average junior high building taking meal orders and hauling huge trays of dirty dishes back to the restaurants own overflowing sink and his imagination completely failed him.

"What brought this on all of a sudden?" Dipper asked.

"I just feel kind of bad living here and sponging off your parents like this," Pacifica said.

"They really don't mind - seriously, we may not be billionaires but our family does pretty well for itself. We're not going to lose the house because we decided to have a guest over," Dipper said a shade defensively.

"That's not the point though!" Pacifica objected, "It's not about you guys not having enough money or anything like that. I just want to have some for myself too... some that I don't have to ask anyone for,"

I guess I can see her point, Dipper thought.

This is probably the longest she's gone without having any money of her own to spend, and her parents didn't exactly bring her up to expect much generosity.

"I'll check around at work to see what I can do. The assistant manager and I get along alright, and we have been pretty shorthanded too so they might be open to hiring some new people," Dipper said.

"Really?" Pacifica asked.

"Sure. You'll probably have to apply as yourself and not 'Atlantica' though since I don't think they'd hire someone from France without a bunch of official government paperwork that none of us have. I don't even want to try asking Mabel to fake any of that stuff in case we get caught, because that seems like something they'd be a bit angry about. Like, jail time angry." Dipper said.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it," Pacifica said, beaming a bright smile toward Dipper.

He'd noticed that smiles seemed to have been coming easier to her the longer she stayed here, and they seemed more natural as well. There wasn't the same sort of tension around the eyes, that sense of being watched and judged that was sometimes glimpsed in her unguarded moments.

"Well, don't thank me yet - you still haven't gotten the job. I'll pick up an application for you next time I'm there though," Dipper said, shutting off the faucet now that the washing up was done.

Pacifica put the last dried bowl up in the cabinets and closed them with a firm click, feeling an odd sense of pride at that moment.

I'm probably the first Northwest in a century who's made food for someone else.

Actually, I'm probably the first Northwest in a century who has made food, period.

Or who even knows how to in the first place.

My parents might act like they are above everything like this, but if you left them alone in a kitchen for a week with no servants they would probably starve to death. Without their money they wouldn't know how to take care of themselves at all.

I might be a disappointment as a Northwest, but at least I'm not as completely helpless.

Pacifica felt a small smile tug up at the corners of her mouth at the thought.

"What's on your mind?" Dipper asked as he saw the faraway look come into Pacifica's eyes.

"Oh, nothing really," she said, "but I just remembered that Mabel had wanted to know if you were up for us all doing something tonight? She finished her homework early and was wanting to celebrate."

Dipper gave a tired smile in response and a quick shake of his head.

"I would, but I'm completely exhausted after my shift. I think I'm just going to turn in early instead," Dipper replied, his hand reaching up to squeeze the tension out of the muscles on the back of his neck.

"Okay, I'll let Mabel know. I'm sure it'll take her about five seconds to come up with some new idea for the two of us to do instead," Pacifica said.

"Three seconds, tops," Dipper corrected her.

The two made their way from the kitchen and stood together by the foot of the stairs leading up to the bedrooms, each unsure of who was going to head up first. Dipper paused and motioned for Pacifica to go and she moved to head up, but paused halfway up the first stair and turned back.

Dipper froze as Pacifica stepped quickly toward him and threw her arms stiffly around his chest, giving his torso a hard squeeze. He could feel the curves of her body pressed up tightly against him, her breath warm on his chest through the fabric of his shirt. Awkwardly, he reached his own arms around her and patted his hands against her back. Dipper felt the sweat start to bead on his brow and the tips of his ears begin to burn as the seconds ticked by, her own hands patting against his back in a strange counter-rhythm to his and no indication that she intended to let go anytime soon. He could smell the gentle floral scent of Pacifica's shampoo with her head pressed right up under his nose and he had to give a quick shake of his head to clear the light-headed feeling coming over him. Dipper could feel a familiar rush of warmth in his chest and he gave a quick cough and pushed very gently but firmly on Pacifica's shoulder before his reaction to the contact would become embarrassingly obvious to her. She darted back a step, her face beet red.

"Did I do it wrong? I held on too long again didn't I?" Pacifica asked, a worried tone to her voice.

"Um, no that was... that was good," Dipper said quickly, a stiff smile with too much teeth on his face.

"Okay. Sorry I just don't have a lot of practice at this hugging stuff," Pacifica said, "um... anyway, good night Dipper!"

Dipper watched Pacifica take the steps up at a brisk pace. He drew in a deep breath and then slowly blew it out again through his nose.

She's a guest here Dipper. She's away from home and has nowhere else to go. It's a really bad idea to start thinking... things... about her.

Dippers mind decided to rebel at the moment and he squeezed his fingertips against his temples to try and banish the sudden rush of thoughts involving Pacifica snuggling in closer to him, her lips drawing slowly toward his.

Ugh, and I had thought that sibling hugs had already been as awkward as it could get.

"Are you feeling alright Atlantica? You look a little flushed there," Mabel commented when Pacifica had returned to the room and closed the door shut behind her.

"It's nothing! I… um… I just put too much pepper in the soup I made," Pacifica improvised while the pink in her cheeks deepened to a slightly ruddier shade after she realized that it had been noticeable.

She was still feeling self-conscious over the disaster of a hug she had just inflicted on her friend. Pacifica was positive that she'd made Dipper uncomfortable too judging by that weird death-grin he'd had afterward. She tried to think back on what had gone wrong. Part of it must have been her lack of experience since there seemed to be some sort of timing to it that she just wasn't getting so she probably held on too long again.

If she was being completely honest with herself she'd admit that wasn't so much an issue of inexperience though as it was the fact that she hadn't wanted to let go of him. Human contact seemed to have an almost addictive quality to her, and feeling Dippers arms tightening around her body was just so comfortable. She hadn't even minded that his shirt was a bit damp from half-dried sweat. Thinking back on it, the mingled scent of salt and sharp deodorant had seemed to be oddly pleasant to her.

Oddly enough his stiff smile had seemed pretty endearing as well, though she wasn't quite sure why that was so.

"Lan?" Mabel called out again.

"Huh?" Pacifica said, her attention snapping back sharply to the present.

"Did you see Dipper down there?" Mabel asked.

"I did. Yeah, he said that he was tired from work and was just going to bed already," Pacifica said.

"Boo! All work and no play is making Dippingsauce an extremely dull boy," Mabel groused.

Dipper had been right though, because after telling Mabel that her brother was unavailable for the evening she'd paused for the space of a few heartbeats and then decided that since it was just the two of them that it might be fun to have a girls-only night instead.

"Isn't it automatically a girls-only night already since Dipper won't be joining us?" Pacifica asked.

"No this is different – if we do it this way it means that he's been forbidden to join in the fun, not that he decided to ditch us just because he's feeling sleepy," Mabel explained.

"I guess that makes sense somehow?" Pacifica said with a note of skepticism in her voice.

"Anyway I think that it could still be a lot of fun with just the two of us hanging out! We never really got to do any sleepover type stuff together when we were kids since your parents are kind of huge buttfaces. No offense," Mabel said.

"None taken at all," Pacifica said firmly.

It had been almost a month now since she'd first left home and the longer she stayed away the weaker the tense hold of the fear that had passed for respect for her parents had become. Buttface was a significantly more generous name than a few that sprung to Pacifica's mind when she thought about them, particularly her father and his damned bell.

"So, what sort of things did you have in mind for this girls-night of ours?" Pacifica asked.

"Um… shoot, I hadn't really thought this far ahead," Mabel admitted, "I guess we're a bit old for most of the usual sleepover stuff by now aren't we?"

"Well, we could still watch movies at least," Pacifica suggested.

"Alright, but we'll watch them in our pajama's so it at least feels a little sleepover-y," Mabel said, hammering her fist in her palm for emphasis.

Before long the pair had found themselves sitting in a makeshift pile of blankets and pillows dumped in the center of the room while the flickering images on the computer monitor cast weird shadows over them. Mabel had decided that tonight's entertainment was to be the extremely gory 80's remake of The Widdlest Wampire , which had the distinction of having some of the worst special effects that money could buy and a soundtrack that seemed to have been made by having the composer swat at a bunch of ants swarming over a cheap synthesizer keyboard.

The movie was 100 percent pure schlock, but for some reason Pacifica felt herself getting drawn into it. On the one hand nothing in the movie was nearly as terrifying as her own memories of being chased through her house by a vengeful lumberjack ghost, but on the other hand the fact that ghosts and monsters existed made horror movies seem a bit more real to her than she was sure they seemed to people who hadn't had those experiences.

Apparently Mabel had become immersed in the movie too, because she ended up giving a small shriek during a particularly bloody jump-scare and ended up grabbing onto Pacifica in a hug so tight that it felt like a wrestling hold. Once the moment had passed Mabel gave her a sheepish grin and retreated back to her side of the pillow pile. As the movie went on and the tension ramped up onscreen Mabel had started to scooch closer to Pacifica once again, and Pacifica found herself doing the same. By the time the credits had started to roll the pair were sitting side by side with a single blanket wrapped tight around each of their shoulders. The bowl of popcorn that Mabel had made had sat untouched between them during the whole third act.

"Wasn't the original sort of a kid's movie? I don't remember nearly that many decapitations when I saw the first one." Pacifica asked as her mind travelled back to one of the more gruesome scenes she had just seen.

"I guess the director decided to take some creative liberties with the remake," Mabel replied.

"No kidding," Pacifica said with a barely suppressed shiver.

"Up for another?" Mabel asked, "I think I have the sequel somewhere – I heard that one was banned in Italy!"

"I think I'm all movie'd out for tonight," Pacifica replied firmly.

"Fiiiine," Mabel said with a sigh, crossing her arms and screwing her face up into a pout. "It's almost like you don't want to start off your weekend with some fresh new night terrors or something."

"Well we could always do some other kind of sleepover stuff like you'd mentioned earlier instead," Pacifica suggested.

That seemed to do the trick, and Mabel immediately broke into a wide grin.

"I like the way you think! What would you want to do first?" Mabel asked.

"I'm not sure, I'm not really an expert on this whole sleepover thing." Pacifica replied.

"How about makeovers?" Mabel suggested.

Pacifica had a moment of utter shock imagining herself suddenly transformed by Mabel's… unique… approach to style. The prospect seemed just slightly less scary than the movie she'd just finished watching.

"M-maybe," she replied hesitantly.

"I've always wanted to see how you'd look with braided hair," Mabel said, tilting her head slightly as she looked at Pacifica's face.

Pacifica gave an inner sigh of relief. When Mabel had mentioned 'makeovers' she'd had visions of facepaint and glitter… just braiding her hair seemed like she was getting off lightly.

Mabel's face split into a grin when Pacifica approved of the plan and she set about grabbing various items from her nightstand before returning to Pacifica.

Pacifica shifted around in the pillows, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in while Mabel sat down behind her. She felt the light touch of Mabel's fingers as they ran down along the length of her hair and the sensation was unexpectedly pleasurable. The touch of the bristles of the brush as Mabel gently swept it across her scalp and down the long golden strands was oddly soothing, and she couldn't entirely suppress a pleasant shiver than ran down her spine at the feel of it. Pacifica was no stranger to having her hair brushed, but Mabel's touch wasn't anything like the sharp professional movements of the hairstylists that had previously seen to the job – there was something warm in her touch. She felt a small smile start to creep up unbidden as she relaxed. Mabel was humming a tune softly to herself as she swept the brush through, never tugging hard enough to jostle Pacifica from the feeling of dreamy peacefulness that had started to come over her. Mabel's fingers trailed after the brush, deftly separating out long locks to begin the braid. The dull points of Mabel's fingernails felt strangely pleasant against Pacifica's scalp, and she briefly wondered if this was how a cat felt when it was being scratched behind the ears. She was sure that she probably had a similar expression on her face at that moment, but she was feeling too relaxed to feel self-conscious about it.

As quickly as the strange peace came it was gone when Mabel set the brush down and set to work on braiding the newly prepared hair. Pacifica felt the gentle tug on the back of her head as Mabel began to form the braid, and she resisted the urge to fidget as Mabel's fingers twined and twisted the strands around. Pacifica recognized the new tune that Mabel had begun to hum as an old Sevral Timez song that Mabel sang at the top of her lungs some mornings in the shower and she began to hum along with her.

The song trailed off to an end as Mabel snapped an elastic hairband at the tip of the newly formed braid and leaned back to look over her work, giving a nod of approval at her handiwork. She passed a hand mirror up to Pacifica, who began to examine herself critically. She'd always thought that braids were a childish hairstyle, but the elaborate twist that Mabel had plaited into her hair actually looked almost elegant in its own way.

"How do I look?" Pacifica asked.

Years of participating in Ms. Gravity Falls pageants had left their mark on her mind, and some habits were ingrained pretty deeply so Pacifica had instinctively asked while turning with a dramatic flourish, her face set in a glamorous pout.

"It's a good look for you," Mabel said with a small smile. She tilted her head this way and that and reached out a hand to brush a few stray hairs behind Pacifica's ear. Her fingertips lingered along Pacifica's jawline, gliding along in a gentle stroking motion across her cheek.

"Really pretty," Mabel said in a quiet voice.

Pacifica's eyes moved up to meet Mabel's and she saw an unfamiliar far away expression in her friends face.

Mabel seemed to notice Pacifica's attention and she quickly jerked her hand away as if Pacifica's skin had burned her fingertips and she shook her hand in an exaggerated gesture.

"Yup, just as I suspected – braiding your hair has made you too hot," Mabel joked with a nervous giggle. Pacifica noticed that her cheeks had a slight flush to them and she felt a similar warmth rising to her own face in response.

"Weirdo," Pacifica said with a smile as Mabel continued to gently blow air across her unburned fingers.

"That's me alright – crazy Mabel, who knows what she'll do next?" Mabel said in a goofy voice.

Something in her eyes didn't quite match the light tone of her words but Pacifica couldn't quite place the look.

"Well, the braid looks great. I've never had my hair like this before," Pacifica said.

"I'm really glad you like it," Mabel replied with a more genuine smile.

Some of the earlier nervousness had left her face and Pacifica felt herself relax more in response.

"Does this style have a name?" Pacifica asked as she examined herself in the hand mirror once again.

"Mhmm, a French braid," Mabel said with a nod.

"A French braid?" Pacifica asked, her eyebrow cocked.

"I thought it would remind you of your fake homeland," Mabel said lightly.

Pacifica clasped her hands together and her eyes took on a misty faraway look.

"I do so miss the green hills of Franceburg," she said.

"Do you ever get homesick though… you know, for your actual house in Gravity Falls?" Mabel asked.

"No, not really," Pacifica answered honestly.

She had asked herself the same question a number of times and was always surprised to find that the answer never changed. Trying to bring up warm memories of Northwest Manor wasn't easy, and even the bright spots that she found seemed dim compared to the usual drab coldness of the place. She missed aspects of her home, namely some of her old familiar possessions that she hadn't been able to fit in her suitcase when she first left home but overall she was happier where she was now.

"Well, that's good," Mabel said, "Not that I'm happy about you not liking it at home or anything," she added quickly, "I'm just glad that you've been liking it here,"

"Yeah, it's been really great. Kind of weird to get used to, but great," Pacifica said.

"For me too," Mabel said.

"Really? You don't mind me taking up half your space or anything?" Pacifica asked.

"No way! It's been awesome having you here," Mabel said with enthusiasm.

"Thanks," Pacifica replied, feeling a small grin tug up at the corners of her lips.

Mabel returned the grin with one of her own, and Pacifica braced herself when she saw the slight wriggle of the shoulder that usually preceded one of Mabel's spontaneous tackling hugs.

She'd guessed right, but even so she found it hard to keep her balance when Mabel had playfully lunged at her and folded her arms tightly around Pacifica's torso to press herself cheek-to-cheek against her. Pacifica found her heart beating harder than normal in her chest at the warm contact, and she felt the first signs of a blush on her face when Mabel planted a loud smacking kiss on her cheek.

"Well you can stay as long as you like, okay? I don't want to hear any more of this 'I'm being a burden' junk out of you," Mabel said sternly.

Pacifica nodded silently in agreement and took a deep breath once Mabel had released her python-like hold from her ribcage.

"I'll try to cut back on that," Pacifica promised once she'd regained her breath, gently rubbing her sides with a wince.

The rest of the evening had passed by pleasantly and Mabel had finally crashed to sleep a few minutes ago, giving Pacifica a final sleepy good-night kiss on the cheek before collapsing into her mattress with a flurry of snores.

Pacifica glanced up to make sure that Mabel was definitely asleep before she rummaged around her purse and grabbed the earplugs that she'd bought at the local grocery store a few days ago. She slipped them in and gave a contented sigh as Mabel's loud rumbles were muted to a gentle hum. She leaned back into the soft hollow in the center of the air mattress and stared up at the glowing plastic stars speckling the ceiling.

Pacifica found herself thinking back on her earlier conversation with Mabel as she felt her eyelids grow heavy with fatigue.

She said that I could stay as long as I like.

I'm guessing forever probably isn't an option. I don't think they have summer-school student exchanges.

Or post-highschool student exchanges either for that matter considering that this is our last year before college.

Pacifica frowned slightly at the thought.

If I can get this job where Dipper works though and save some money of my own…

How hard can it be?

Her sleepy brain flashed back to Dipper again, remembering the feel of his arms around her earlier and she felt a warmth bloom in her chest at the thought. That memory seamlessly transitioned into the memory of Mabel's arms around her earlier that night and the feel of her lips pressing against Pacifica's cheek, and she felt the warmth rise to her face in response.

They've been really great to me…

I know I wasn't always nice to them but the fact that they were able to overlook all that… I wonder if I would have been able to drop a grudge so quickly like that.

Her thoughts jumped lightning quick again to Mabel's hands brushing through her hair, the feel of her hand caressing Pacifica's face and the look in her eyes that she'd given her. Those large brown eyes that were almost identical to Dipper's, and Pacifica recalled a few times during the meal they had shared when an expression identical to Mabel's had flashed briefly in his own eyes at her when she'd laughed at a joke that he'd made or after she had playfully teased him.

They really do care about me… like I care about them.

Pacifica sighed and gave a little shiver inside herself as her sleep-addled imagination suddenly took over her memories, lengthening her earlier embrace with Dipper at the foot of the stairs into something more… the awkward pause at the end was replaced with him gently pushing her back against the bannister and tilting her head up for a kiss. She accepted it eagerly, pushing up on the balls of her feet to lean into his lips and wrapping her arms around his neck for balance. In the space of a few heartbeats she suddenly felt the room shift around her and it was Mabel's lips pressed against hers, waves of chestnut brown curls drifting down to lightly brush up against Pacifica's face as Mabel pinned her back against the air mattress and planted a trail of kisses from Pacifica's lips and down her neck.

Pacifica's eyes snapped open and she found herself quite alone on her mattress, staring up at the fading glow of the plastic stars. She glanced over and saw that Mabel was lying just as she had been when Pacifica had first got into bed and she'd only moved in her imagination.

Her heart started to beat hard in her chest as the specifics of the short dream rushed back to her waking mind and she pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

It was just a dream. Nothing actually happened.

Even as she drifted off to a dreamless sleep Pacifica wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed by the realization.