The air smelled like a mixture of gasoline and sweat multiplied by the heat of the afternoon, Mabel briskly down the hustling and bustling street, everything passing by her doe-like brown eyes in a New York minute. Ah yes, New York this was always a city of the haves and have-nots. There were those in the Upper-East side with their exotic cars, luxury life style and those where she lived, the Bronx, drug addled and abused; Of course there was a huge middle class that didn't belong to either group, lucky in Mabel's opinion. They could make ends meet, but they were able to keep out of the high socialite expiations. The Pine twins moved up to New York with their Grunkle to get away from the shady men Stan associated himself with. Mabel and Dipper were working all their waking hours to afford college; Mabel landed herself a job at the local bakery, while Dipper got a job building skyscrapers. Mabel held the boxes of pastries close to her chest, she was eager to get home and take off her baker's apron and have a nice shower. Her long, thick brown curls where pulled into a bun, covered with flour, and she smelled of fresh buns. The walk back home was a fair distance across a rather unruly part of the Bronx, most of the people here kept to themselves and avoided confrontation because from what Mabel overheard from a neighbour it usually ended up with someone ending up in a casket. Stepping over the cracks in the sidewalks, she heard a quiet whisper.

"Quiet, she's coming."

Mabel passed by an alley opening, where she saw multiple pairs of eyes peering at her behind some old crates, a 17-year-old boy cleared his throat, as he stepped out of the dark. His dirty skin pulled ever so tight across his face, another street kid, she thought to herself, born into poverty, ill health, and starvation. He gave Mabel a friendly smile, showing off his yellow teeth, she did her best to reciprocate the smile, not wanting to be rude.

"Top of the evenin' miss, my company and I couldn't help but to smell those pastries in your box."

Mabel rolled her eyes, this boy, and his friends were clearly schleppers, and there was no doubt in her mind that they wanted what was in her box.

"Beat it kid, these are for me."

The boy gave her a devious smirk,

" I don't think an itsy-bitsy girl like you would eat all those pastries. Watcha think there James?"

"I don't think so either Mark."
A raggy voice said behind her, Mabel looked behind her shoulder to see three other boys, each hold a blade.

"Hand over the box doll, we don't want to hurt you."

Mark said, his voice sounding darker, as he took a step forward towards Mabel, who instinctively took a step back to distance themselves, but it only lead her closer to the threat that was behind her. Her eyes quickly scanned the surrounding area to see if there was any other sign of life, or anyone who was willing to help her in her current predicament, there was no one.

"Come on, or you'll be the next victim to be on the front of the blat tomorrow."

Tears wielded up in Mabel's eyes as she reluctantly handed over the pastry box, internally cursing herself for how foolish she had been to stop.

"Hmm, now I'm sure we want something else from a lovely dame such as yourself. Tell me miss are you a virgy?"

Mabel was gobsmacked; no one has ever talked to her in such a manor. Mabel's body tensed, her fight or flight instinct truly kicking in now. From an alley further down a tall man emerged, his golden eyes pierced hers, as he silently walked over with a tommy gun.

"Whatsa' matter over here, oh my my looks like we have a big shot and some of his friends."

The man's voice was high pitched, Mark turned around, his face turned into something of horror.

"Bill…"

James said, his voice barely over a murmur, they began to back up, inching closer and closer into their safe haven in the alleyway.

"I-I"

"You were what?"

Bill replied rather sharply, the boys took off, Mark pushed past Mabel knocking her down onto the ground causing a rip in her dress.

"You okay doll?"

Bill asked, mildly amused at the brunette on the ground,

"I'm fine, Mabel said flatly, Bill held his hand out and helped her up.

"Thanks for coming when you did, I don't know what would have happened if you didn't."

"Don't mention it, doll. Tell me something, you're not from around here are you?"

"Mabel's face lit up with surprise,

"How did you know?"

Bill smiled,

"I know lots of things. Lots of things."

With that a car pulled up beside them, Bill got in,

"Oh and a word to the wise kid, no one here is out to help you. Just consider this run in a stroke of luck."

Mabel nods slowly, as Bill closes the door and the car drives off leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. She coughed as the dust entered her throat; quickly she walked home without giving the incident a second thought.

Mabel did not get home until 7, by the time she got in the door Grunkle Stan was on her case,

"Why are you late? Where you out with a boy?"
Mabel smiled at her Grunkle's concern, but decided against telling him. The last thing she needed was for him to worry about same stupid 17 year olds.

"No, I just got side tracked that's all."
Stan grumbled, going back onto the sofa that has certainly seen better days. The battered floral design was worn thin in places that Stan occupied the most (which was everywhere mind you) but not quite to the point of ripping. The soft green piping fabric around the cushions had the beginnings of fraying, a six-year-old Mabel didn't help in preserving it when she needed to alleviate her boredom. To Mabel the worst part was the smell of the sofa; it smelt of wet newspaper and stale cigarettes.

"I'm going to make some dinner, any requests?"

"Just give me some eggs over easy."

Stan said gruffly, before lighting a cigarette,

"Do you know when Dipper is going to be home?"

Mabel inquired, cracking four eggs into the frying pan,

"No idea kiddo, do we have any bacon?"

Doing a once over of the fridge confirmed her suspicion, they didn't,

"No, would you like me to pick some up?"

She never got a reply, glancing into the living room she saw Stan passed out on the sofa, lightly snoring, a cigarette still lit in his hand. Taking the cigarette out of his hand, she put it out, making a mental note to scold him about the dangers of falling asleep with a lit cigarette. She finished making the eggs, saving three for Stan; she ate the reaming one, before she hoped into the shower. The water pours down, it drips by her curvaceous sides, as her mind leaves the physical reality fades into dullness where everything is a foggy illusion. The sensation of the steamy water calms her, taking her mind off her job, and how she was going to pay her way through college. The 17 year old grabbed the bottle of shampoo and began to lather it in her hair when there was a knock at the door; Mabel ignored it and finished up her shower before the hot water ran out. For the rest of the evening Mabel stayed in her room that Dipper and her shared. She was knitting a sweater, when Dipper came in, by the looks of the sky she guessed it was around 9ish.

"Hey Mabel. Do you know why there is a pastry box outside our door?"
Dipper came in, holding a white box with beautiful gold ribbon,

" Is that from where I think it is from?"

Dipper nodded

"Let's open it then!"
Somehow Mabel failed to notice the note that was attached to the box, only for it to be found by Dipper later on.

Kid,

I like your spunk, hats off to you, enjoy.

-Bill Cipher

I own nothing! I was inspired by Elinori's art work, which is the cover photo for this fan fiction. My highest praise to the artist, they are truly outstanding