Pacifica was smirking at him.

He couldn't see it, considering that her back was to him as they walked, but he knew how it felt- the electric feel of smugness in the air whenever she was right about something.

It was positively infuriating. Dipper kept his gaze steadily on her bobbing ponytail as they walked towards the small cafe that they were grabbing lunch at- Mabel was supposed to meet then there, after having left then alone at the Shack an hour or so ago.

Glitter Buisness, she had said when she left. And by the way she cackled and grinned as she left, he knew- he knew!- that nothing good would come of it.

"Admit it, Dipper. I'm right, you're wrong, and you know it!" He clenched his fists at his side, shaking his head in disagreement, nevermind that she couldn't see it.

"No way, Northwest. No way are the Gnomes and Faeries related!"

It was one of those small, stupid arguments that had, predictably, blown up into a heated brawl of words and convictions. He secretly thought the blonde twenty two year old enjoyed goading him, just so they could get into these little spats of theirs. He suspected that she enjoyed stretching her sadistic side when it came to him, nevermind that he gave as good as he got. At this point, he almost took the opposite end of the argument just to make a point.

"Have you seen their magic, Pines? Like, they use the same snappy fingered forest magic bullshit! Plus, they both totally have the collective hive mind thing going on."

"There's no evidence-"

"It's magic, Dipper! Taxonomy doesn't really count here, you know. But magic does, and you know it!"

He opened his mouth to reply, but found that he didn't have a ready answer to quip with. For whatever reason, Pacifica Northwest obfuscated him.

Must be pheromones.

When he didn't answer, she turned to him, and she was definitely smirking at him, white teeth outlining her victory over him.

It was the kind of smirk you could only achieve by being completely self assured in your own superiority. And Pacifica Northwest was, in a word, superior. She was smart, quick-witted, athletic, and absolutely gorgeous, and she knew it.

Not just knew it. She reveled in it.

"What, no smart comeback?"

He dug his hands into his jeans pockets, turning his nose at her rather than admit defeat. She laughed, a sweet sound with the harsh undertone of a victor. "Guess not, Dip. Point to Paz," she said cheekily.

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered. She laughed again, turning back to lead the way.

He steadfastly looked at her bobbing ponytail once more. More importantly, he convinced himself that doing so wasn't just so he didn't stare at her butt as she walked ahead of him.

Nope.

No way.

BREAK

He was laying on the couch in the Mystery Shack, forlornly trying to read a cryptozoological journal that he had found earlier. They weren't entirely wrong, which was interesting.

Now, he was trying to read it because Mabel and Pacifica were splayed out on the floor, gossiping unhurriedly about their day, their course work, Mabel's new crush- anything that crossed their mind. And it wasn't so much that they were there- he had no problem reading with people talking, considering that he grew up with Mabel of all people.

No, the problem was Pacifica Northwest, slowly swinging her legs back and forth. They were crossed at the ankles, her manicured toes rhythmically curling and uncurling; she was lazily going from right to left, her calves coming together, the material of her black leggings rubbing together. Her hair was splayed down her back, no longer in her customary ponytail.

And it shouldn't have been anything, really. He'd seen her relaxing like this before- she was his sister's best friend, after all!

And his friend, too, depending on the week. They fought like they were married sometimes.

He'd never tell anyone, but he secretly enjoyed their little spats. She forced him to use all of his wit, to be better when they argued. It was like dancing, almost. Which was good, because he actually danced with all the grace and fluidity of a garbage can rolling down a hill.

He refocused on the magazine, but it was a lost cause, and he knew it. Her legs kept swinging, and the muscles beneath her leggings played across his vision.

And that wasn't even mentioning the way her ass was moving with her legs. It was unfair. It was cruel.

He kept his eyes glued to his magazine, his eyes skimming across the same three words about twenty times.

"...and then, Jorge came with these flowers, okay? Orchids, actually, there must have been a hundred of them. And he had this, like, Maserati, and it was all just so..."

Mabel stared at her friend, the casual way in which she handled her extreme wealth- and therefore, her extremely wealthy suitors- still a small wonder to the Pine Twins, who were quite used to sharing rooms and scrabbling for odd jobs to pay for their small apartment. "And then what?"

"And then he kissed me," Paz said simply.

Behind her, Dipper ripped his magazine, the loud tearing noise halting the girls conversation for a moment. While they regarded him with bemusement, he steadfastly ignored them. It had been an accident, thank you very much!

There was no way- no way in Hell- that the news that Pacifica Northwest had kissed some rich, pompous asshole effected him in any way at all.

No sirree, nope.

Must be the shoddy way that these people printed their stupid magazines.

She was smirking at him again, pearly whites broadcasting the lazy disdain that she so easily exuded. Like she was in on some sort of joke about him.

Actually, to her, he probably was a joke.

"Problem, dork?" Mabel snickered at his discomfort, but made no comment.

He breathed in, but didn't balk. "Nope. Just glad I don't have your problems. It would be a shame, getting so many orchids, just to watch them all die because you have the same affinity for plants as a desert." He grinned lightly at her, and her eyes had that little twinkle in them whenever they sparred.

"It's a good thing that I won't have to. He took them with him."

"What, to his high-rise in Manhattan? I'm sure he has a peacock menagerie there, too."

"I bet he does," she laughed lightly. "But I won't ever find out. After he kissed me, I punched him the jaw so hard that he spat out some teeth."

Mabel guffawed loudly at her proclamation, which was almost enough to cover her brothers confused gaping. "You go, girl!"

Pacifica paused long enough to high five her bestie, turning back to Dipper and giving him her smirk.

"But, he... You... Why?"

"I never said that he could kiss me. He just forced it. Mega rude, you know? Besides, he wasnt my type."

Dipper shook his head, and he found that he was grinning for some reason. "And what is, Oh Princess Northwest? Do the mega rich not interest you anymore?"

"They never did, you dweeb. I already have enough money to buy California, why would I want more?"

"How would I know? I'm just some peasant," he teased. He felt a hell of a lot better than just a minute ago.

Must have been the catharsis of ripping his magazine. Yup.

Definitely.

"Exactly! Don't question your Queen, filthy serf!"

"Unstable Tyrant! Down with the Bourgeoise!" And he brought a pillow crashing down on her head, laughing.

She shrieked, and quickly brought Mabel in on her side, both of them grabbing pillows and smacking Dipper mercilessly.

The magazine, ripped and abused, lay forgotten on the floor.

BREAK

It was very good ice cream, he decided. Cookies and creme, little nuts sprinkled throughout. He brought another spoonful to his lips, humming happily at the flavor.

"Thanks again, Paz!"

"My pleasure, dork," she simpered back, a cup full of chocalate, chocalate, and more chocalate. "Now, let's get down to buisness, hmm?"

"Sure, sure. What's your problem, exactly?"

"Ghosts again, Dipper. There's something about the Northwest's that attracts them to us, you know?"

"Probably all the people you guys have screwed over through the years," he snickered at her. She shot him a glare, and then shrugged.

"Yeah, probably. Anyone, there's this one that..."

They talked for a long time, their ice cream long gone, the esotericness stretching the easy conversation for a couple of hours. When he left, Dipper couldn't stop smiling.

BREAK

"I will be AVENGED!"

The ghost behind them surged forward, hands swinging back and forth, spectral beard flung backwards, dead eyes wide and wild.

"I think hes gaining," said Dipper conversationaly as his arms and legs pumped in unison.

"Might be," she said back. She was a track runner, one of the best on the west coast. He wasn't, but he had run from enough monsters in his day to know how to run fast. The ghost behind them kept apace, but there was still a gulf between them of at least ten feet. He howled with the same cold indifference that the restless dead tended towards, angry about something that wouldn't seem important to the living.

"Ready?" Dippers call was answered by two short, sharp knocks, the Northwests rebuilt mansion having wonderful acoustics when it came to ghost busting. He nodded to himself, before taking a deep breath, grabbing Pacifica's wrist, and putting on a fresh turn of speed. Expensive statues, paintings, and various rich person bric-a-brac passed by them in a blur, their pounding feet making a staccato rythym against the hardwood floor as they fled from the angry ghost. Passing through one of the many dining rooms, Dipper and Paz dove through, ripping up a very nice looking carpet in the process.

The ghost strode- err, floated through the doorway confidently, arms outstretched. "I will be AVENG-eeeeeed...?!"

As soon as he stepped through the door way, the ghost was caught in a panorama of light, a small cyclone looking thing that caught him, swirling him about almost as if he were being pulled down a drain.

He looked, in a word, confused. Pacifica, getting up gracefully, shook her fist at him, a teasing smile on her lips as she watched the pesky ghost swirl into the small contraption that they had hidden under the rug. Hand on hip, she watched with satisfaction as he finally disappeared. "About time," she said. From her hiding place behind a dresser, Mabel stepped out, walking over to the rug. She paused long enough to give high fives to Pacifica and Dipper before reaching under and taking the knobby device that Ford had gifted to them.

"Alright! Well, we know that this invention works! Take that, ghost!"

Dipper stepped up, taking the gadget from his twin gingerly. From inside, the ghost was most assuredly very, very angry. "So, I guess we should try to figure out why this one was after you, Paz."

"Might help," she acceded.

"Maybe they're jealous? You're alive and pretty and rich! Maybe the dumb ghosties are angry that they couldn't be all Pazzy style awesome?" Mabel threw a companionable arm over Pacifica's shoulder, a megawatt grin on her face.

"Mabel, that doesn't make any sen-"

"Whomp!" Mabel interrupted her brothers logic and reason with a boop to the nose, making the Northwest girl snort with poorly hid laughter.

Shaking his head, Dipper pocketed the device. "Sure, whatever. Okay. You two do your own things, but I'll go do some research at the library. You know, something constructive."

Paz smirked, and he found that he couldn't look away. "What, don't think my stunning beauty could attract the ghosts to me? I'm insulted, dork. I'm worth, like, at least three ghost hauntings with this hair and my ass."

He blushed crimson, and he hated himself for it. You're not twelve, you spaz. Calm down. It's just Paz talking about her magnificent-

He groaned to himself. Even his inner monologue was turning against him. "Sure it is, Northwest. Keep telling yourself that."

"I don't need to; my mirror does. So does your sister," she quipped at him.

Mabel laughed, saying, "You go, girl!"

BREAK

The girl, her name was Laura, she had talked to him several times before this. She was a cute little brunette, small glasses and a petite body. She clutched a book to her chest, the smallest dusting of a blush on her cheeks as she talked to him. He smiled at her, his own book opened to a page on Eastern religions and how they had portrayed and dealt with ghosts through the ages.

His research went apace, and he was hoping that the local library at Gravity Falls could give him a few more clues about Pacifica's haunting problems.

"And you think that the candles might have a metaphysical effect?" Her voice was small and breathy, much like the rest of her. Her arms looked strained even holding her thick text up, but she didn't complain or place it down.

"Yeah, there's a few references about them; I think that they resonate with the silver mirrors. That would explain why ghosts always seem more active with the right mystical equipment."

"Wow, that's really interesting, Dipper!" One of her hands left her chest to lightly trail up his arm. She smiled at him, shyly, looking bashfully at him. He didn't particularly mind, but it struck him as weird. Girls didn't do that kind of stuff to him, flirting or whatever this was. "Do you think that... Um... H...hello?"

Looking up, Dipper saw Pacifica Northwest standing behind them. Hands on hips, eyes alight with something, her gold earrings glinting in the light of the library. "Hello, Miss. I'm sorry, but you're interrupting my man here. He's doing research, for me. It's important. Please leave him alone."

Laura blushed even deeper, shaking her head. "Oh, I di-didn't mean, I mean. I... I'll just..." With a last forlorn look at Dipper, she fled deeper into the library. Pacifica looked inordinately pleased with herself as the other girl retreated. She smirked at him, and he was feeling pissed at her.

"What the hell, Paz?" She raised one delicately manicured eyebrow at him, implicating that he should continue. He stood up from the table, striding up to her. "What did that poor girl ever do to you? I'm not your employee or whatever else you seem to think I am! She can talk to me if she wants to!"

Pacifica sighed, shaking her head almost like she pitied him. "That girl was trying to seduce you, Dipper. Seduce. Even if it was sad and clumsy, it might just have worked on a dork like you. So I ran her off. You should thank me, really. She would have been horrible for you, Pines."

He spluttered, "and, and why should you... care, Paz! So what if a girl likes me?"

"Three reasons. One, did you see how she talked, and how she struggled with that book? A girl like that could never keep up with your nerd monster hunting tendencies. She'd, like, die, Dipper. Two, like I said, she's a distraction. She would keep you away from the important stuff. And, most importantly, three," she stepped forward, deeply into his personal space. He almost backed up, but her arms were suddenly around his neck. She was so close, and he took in her scent (roses, with a hint of lilacs too, probably from her expensive perfume and shampoos), and his eyes found hers and couldn't leave, except that they did when she started speaking, her pink, pink, pink lips forming words hypnotically to him. "I wouldn't want her to get any sort of ideas about trying to walk in on what's mine. I'm a Northwest, Pines. I get what I want, when I want it. Even if you're a clueless dork that can't take a hint." And then she kissed him.

It wasn't passionate or fierce or romantic- it was a soft meeting of lips, a confirmation of every secret little desire he had nursed about the blonde for years now. But it was all he could focus on, it consumed him, the feeling of soft lips, the way her fingers daintily worked into his hair, how her eyes (blue, blue, blue) closed when they kissed, her light hum of enjoyment.

And then it was done, and she was backing away from him, and she was smirking at him again.

This girl!

Her smirk deepened, mesmerizing and pearly white. "Get a clue, Dipper. I can't do everything for you!" She laughed and turned away, walking towards the exit, a sashay in her steps.

Dipper stared after her, open mouthed. He raised his finger up as if to make a point. He closed his mouth and lowered it. He tried again.

Still nothing.

Paz kissed me.

He blinked.

I really, really like kissing Paz.

He shook his head. "Hey, wait up! Pacifica!"