Our First Christmas

"It must have been, the mistletoe
The lazy fire, the falling snow
The magic in the frosty air
That feeling everywhere…"

In many ways, Gravity Falls, Oregon was sometimes thought of as the small-town equivalent of Shangri-La or Atlantis; often talked about or speculated upon, but rarely thought of as more than a legend. To those who found it, however, it was just as serene and beautiful as any legend, yet infinitely more real. A study in contradictions, such individuals often described it as modern but rustic, welcoming yet guarded and filled with friendly, if standoffish, citizens. For those who stayed a short time, it often seemed little more than the epitome of slice-of-life Americana, but those who stayed for any length of time would also admit to the awareness of some underlying tension that seemed to permeate the very air that filled the otherwise sleepy town.

It was never a question of if they would notice, merely a question of when.

Fortunately, those who lived there eventually became inured to those feelings for one reason or another, but even they were not immune to them. Unfortunately, this only made those feelings that much more intense anytime they were reminded of them. Strangely though, it was rarely the kind of tension brought about by danger or paranoia – although those were certainly part of the town as well – but rather the kind of tension that made it seem as if the town were holding its breath and waiting; waiting for something strange or wonderful, maybe both.

Such was the feeling that weighed up a certain redheaded lumberjill that snowy Christmas Eve.

For as long as she could remember her family had never celebrated Christmas, at least not in the traditional sense. Yes, there were always gifts to open and exchange, but never Christmas trees or decorations, fancy meals or family carols; and certainly no relaxation. Rather, each year on Christmas Eve, her father would lead them away from their cozy cabin, arm them with minimal provisions and weapons and set them out to survive both the elements and each other for a week of yearly apocalypse training.

While that training was undoubtedly useful it had always felt like an annoyance at first, but eventually it had become a challenge and finally a thrill as she proved herself a better survivalist than the rest of her family combined. Four summers ago, that training had also served her well during the event known locally as Weirdmageddon and having survived a real apocalypse, her father had subsequently declared her skilled enough to excuse herself from further training. For four years, however, she had refused to forgo that participation, in part to keep herself sharp and in part out of the desire to continuously show up her brothers; but mostly because up until then, she had no reason not to participate.

But this year was different and thus had led to her current state of reflection.

Seated upon a worn, handmade swing, her legs drawn tight beneath her chin as she huddled beneath her old flannel blanket, a cup of steaming hot chocolate clutched within slightly trembling hands, Wendy Corduroy stared out into the darkness around her, seeing everything and nothing as she mentally blocked out the bitter cold and waited silently. Opposite her, a small pine tree decorated in silver tinsel and small bulbs of various colors – all lightly dusted white from the evening's snowfall – watched her silently in return. Above her a single strand of Christmas lights flickered softly, illuminating the snowflakes beyond in a riot of colored reflections as they passed down and landed upon the fresh blanket of powder that surrounded her home. Yes, this year she had finally found the reason that had been missing for so many years, a reason that now caused her temporary banishment to the porch as her father 'talked' inside with her boyfriend of just over eight months.

The lack of raised voices from within had first been confusing, then worrisome and prompted an attempt to stretch her already acute hearing further in hopes of catching any snippets of conversation through the cabin's thick walls, an attempt that ultimately failed. Next, she had repositioned herself in an attempt to look through the front window, but that too had failed. Other attempts to snoop had likewise proven fruitless and eventually she had admitted defeat, opting to wait and contemplate the world around her in a desperate bid to quiet her fears.

Winter had always been her favorite time of year, not just because of the apocalypse training, but also for the serenity that the cold and snow brought with them, and had it not been for rapidly vanishing tracks crossing the field before her, she might have called the view pristine. Until now, no matter how stressful her life became, snow had always relaxed her and calmed her mind. Now, however, the silence it brought felt almost sinister and caused her to draw the blanket tighter around her shoulders as she finally took a sip from her drink.

Somehow, the warmth that she hoped to find within it eluded her and caused her thoughts to spiral further into turmoil.

When she was younger, someone once told her that happiness was finding yourself in love with your best friend, but at the time her best friend had been Tambry Wallace – soon to be Tambry Valentino – and the idea had been so absurd and laughable that it was easily forgotten. Years later, a bumper stick would remind her of it yet again, but again she had laughed it off. Only that time, she no longer had a singular best friend, but rather a pair in the form of twin siblings, neither of whom she would ever abandon willingly or hurt in any way.

Of course, even if she could never truly discount one half of that pair – for whom she even now possessed a sisterly affection of – the undeniable favorite of her two 'dorks' had always been the amateur sleuth and borderline genius who had remained by her side through thick and thin over four long years. A boy whom she had initially felt little more than irritation towards that would eventually come to mean more to her than she could easily put into words. A boy who had chosen to pursue friendship over romance after she had – however gently – broken his heart, something that had only happened once before in her long string of failed relationships. A boy whom she often thought about over those years, but had eventually convinced herself to give up on, based solely on the erroneous believe that he had long since given up on her.

Then came her senior prom; and with it the realization of just how wrong she had been. Oh yes, there had always been a special place in her heart for her little doofus, even if she had not understood just how special that place was before that night.

That night, she had nearly ruined everything by asking what would happen if she were to give him the chance he had once wanted; but at the last minute she had recanted and instead asked him for the same chance she had denied him three years earlier. Whether it was fate, destiny or simply old-fashioned good luck, he had given her that chance with barely a second though and by the end of the night they had confessed their mutual desire to see if maybe, just maybe, they could somehow forge a future together.

Exactly what she had expected the relationship to be like was hard to say, but it was already becoming more than she had ever dreamed possible.

Unlike her previous boyfriends, her involved with Dipper did nothing to change the status quo of their relationship in any appreciable way, at least not superficially. All through the summer they had hung out together through mundane occurrences and both wacky and dangerous adventures, laughing and protecting each other the whole time. During the school year, they chatted on the phone almost daily and still met weekly on Skip to bash their most recent B-Movie finds to de-stress from the previous week.

In her most contemplative moments, she often recognized that the only thing that had truly changed was the underlying tones of their conversations and the fact that both smiled more often and openly now.

But more than that, neither of them ever felt any pressure for more than they had already found.

True, one of them may request a selfie from time to time as a means of seeing what the other was up to, but never had either of them asked for anything inappropriate and neither had pressured the other to 'fool around' as Wendy had dealt with so often in the past. Likewise, any time they needed space for any reason, the other obliged, confident and secure in the fact that they would be there for each other when that need had been satisfied. Granted, this did not preclude the occasional argument over movies, food or similarly trivial matters – they were each other's significant others, after all, not each other's doormats – but beyond this, she had never before felt so relaxed in a relationship.

Some people, she knew, would have called dipper a wimp or even a coward for his reluctance to make a move. Wendy, however, called him a gentleman and savored that distinction every time. Soon, as the days turned into weeks, she found she could no longer refute the old adage she had scoffed at for so long. Later, as those weeks become months, she had finally ben left with the single, irrefutable conclusion that she had, in fact, fallen in love with her best friend, Dipper Pines.

It was this realization that had finally given her reason to skip her family's yearly training and remain home while her brothers were dragged into the woods once more by their father. Granted, the original reason she had given was the need to relax after a hellish first semester of college; seriously, who knew that majoring in Forestry would be so involved?! That reason had taken on a new meaning though – and become a small lie – when she had learned that the twins would be staying at the Shack for the winter holidays of their senior year. Upon hearing that, she had felt everything finally fall into place as she resolved that her first actual Christmas would instead become their first Christmas as well.

For the first few days, the time they spent together was no different from any other visit over the last four years, but eventually when Mabel had gone to stay with Pacifica for a few days and her family's departure became more imminent, plans had eventually been made. Those plans had started simply enough, but quickly became a blur as both realized there were so many things they both wanted to do for the holiday. Unfortunately, their limited time necessitated trimming that list at least a little.

And, at some point, Dipper had hung a sprig of mistletoe across the threshold of the Corduroy cabin porch, claiming he had promised Mabel that he would do so.

Naturally, he had done so with that adorable blush that often accompanied any such actions, but Wendy could still not find it in her heart to deny the action or question the validity of his claim. Rather, she had taken a moment to contemplate the simple decoration for longer than she normally would have; reminding herself that while they had hugged and held hands many times, in their entire time together they had yet to share anything more than a peck on the cheek as far as kisses went.

At that realization, she had decided to ask him exactly why he had never asked for – or initiated – a kiss with her and admitted that his answer surprised her; she had understood his romantic side ever since the prom, but until that moment she had not quite grasped the full depth of that romanticism.

Her only response had been to blush as red as her own hair.

Like everyone, she knew the basics of the tradition behind the mistletoe, but had never before had reason to follow it, and while it would have given her a good excuse to finally share a kiss with Dipper, somehow the opportunity never presented itself and her little doofus seemed content to leave such actions solely to her discretion at any rate.

Such thoughts eventually left her mind though as the events of the day began in earnest, from decorating the tree that now stood across from her, to singing a few carols and drinking hot chocolate while watching the snowfall to a snowball fight that had left both soaked and freezing by the time the night closed in around them.

Later, they had chosen to sit against the couch, Wendy beneath the same blanket that now covered her and Dipper with a towel wrapped round his shoulders as the pair watched the flickering light cast by her family's fireplace; its lazy, golden-red flames slowly chasing the chill from their bodies as they watched them. At some point, she remember snuggling next to him and soon found his arm around her shoulders in return, an action that then prompted her to rest her head upon his shoulder even as he rested his cheek against her crown. Exactly how long they stayed there was impossible to say, but when they had turned to face each, Wendy had found her eyes gazing into the flame like reflection on Dipper's eyes and felt herself quickly becoming lost within them as he gazed back into her own.

It was then, on some unspoken understanding, that both realized that something had changed.

As was often the case, no words passed between them, and likewise seemed wholly unnecessary in that moment. Instead, they found themselves drawn forward by some unnameable force that slowed time around them and stopped it wholly as their eyes closing and their arms tightening around each other upon the feel of their lips meeting each other for the first time. For an eternity, neither dared to move or breath, neither willing to shatter the magic of the moment; and when they could no longer hold onto it, they moved apart with equal slowness to gaze into each other's eyes once more.

Again, no words were exchanged.

Their smiles, however, said more than any words could ever hope to convey; of course, her father would have chosen that moment to re-enter the house and both his tone and words caused the couple to pull apart instantly.

Even though nothing had truly happened – beyond a passionate, but otherwise chaste kiss – her father had no way of knowing that; and if there was one universal truth to a loving parent, it was that their children would always be their children no matter how old they became. To this end, even at the age of eighteen, Wendy was still her daddy's little girl at the end of the day and the fact that she was alone in an intimate setting with a boy, even one her father had known for years and had even praised on occasion, was not something to be overlooked.

The fact that Dipper had been shirtless and she had been mostly hidden beneath a blanket had not helped matters in the slightest.

In response to his shouts, both had stumbled over each other in an effort to explain the situation in a cacophony of words that did nothing to quell her father's growing anger and even pulling the blanket aside to prove she was still fully dressed did little to help. The magic of the moment thoroughly ruined, Wendy's temper flared in time with her fathers as raised voices became shouts and shouts became threats until she had felt Dipper's hand come to rest on her shoulder, the calm gaze in his chocolate eyes breaking through her rage as she watched him calmly ask her father to talk to him.

The fact that he had managed to speak calmly rather than flee in terror as others might have done impressed her. Apparently, it had impressed her father as well considering he agreed to the request on the condition that the conversation remain private. Wendy had protested this reflexively, but a squeeze to her hand and a smile she had come to associate with reassurance calmed her further and let her keep the peace of mind necessary to grab a mug of hot chocolate as she slipped outside to give them their privacy.

She only hoped that when the 'talk' was through, she still had a boyfriend left to come back to; even if boyfriend no longer felt like the right word to use in regards to Dipper.

Even seated in the cold night as she was, she could still feel the lingering warmth of his lips against her own and the surprising strength beneath his lithe frame as he had held her against himself. So many things, she realized, could have happened after that kiss that would have justified her father's anger, yet they had not. Yes, her body had cried out for more, even though her mind protested the readiness for such acts, but the fact that Dipper had pulled back and smiled without any further expectations only reinforced what she had already known about him to that point. Somehow, it made her next realization all that much more enlightening and finally broke the chill around her as she felt her cheeks heat up once more.

Yes, kissing Dipper had felt good, but more important than that, it had felt right.

Deep within that thought, she almost missed the sound of the door opening a few feet away, but as it registered in her ears, she felt herself tensing in fear of what might come next. In her mind's eye, endless horrible scenarios played out one after the other, each more heartbreaking than the previous and as the light stretched out from the living room into the snow beyond, she bit down hard on her lips to remain quiet. Then, as her father stepped onto the porch, every muscle in her body seized up at once.

At nearly seven feet tall and weighing nearly three-hundred pounds of solid muscle, "Manly" Daniel Corduroy could easily have been described as a giant of a man, and given the strangeness that was Gravity Falls, it would not be inappropriate to assume there wasn't literal giant's blood someone in his family lineage. Moreover, his impressive strength, steely gaze and righteous anger were often the stuff of local legends; but as she watched, Wendy could find no trace of the anger she had expected to see, only a kind of resolved determination as he stared out into the darkness beyond them.

For several heartbeats, no sound followed his appearance and it was almost as if he did not realize she was there, at least not until his gaze slowly moved to rest upon his daughter as she sat huddled on their old swing.

"Dad?" she whispered, shivering as she gazed up into her father's dark green eyes, now almost black in the shadow of the lights around him.

With each passing second, Wendy found her heart more and more reluctant to beat as terror crept along her spine. Why, she wondered, was he so quiet all of a sudden? Was he so angry at her that he'd turned cold or worse? These and dozens more questions circled her mind as she tried and failed to force herself to speak, but in the end she had no chance to do so. Rather than speak to her, her father instead exhaled quietly, his expression softening as his he smiled a smile of genuine warmth and gave a single nod in her direction before turning to tromp off into the night, fresh snow crunching loudly beneath his boots.

Now thoroughly confused, Wendy jumped as she felt the swing sag beside her, her blush returning furiously at being caught off guard by her, thankfully still alive and intact, boyfriend. A quick glance over him revealed that he had reacquired his shirt and seemed no worse for wear, but also revealed him to be smiling at her warmly. That, almost as much as her father's silent departure, almost left her flabbergasted; almost.

"Dude, what just happened?" she asked.

"Your dad and I talked," he replied.

Realizing that he would not explain further, Wendy narrowed her eyes and leveled a glare in Dipper's direction before hissing out, "No kidding, doofus. Really? Seriously, what did you talk about?"

"We talked about what happened earlier," he said, leaning back into the swing even as he faced her, chuckling as he added, "About you and me… about us."

"What did you tell him?"

"The truth."

"The truth?"

"Yeah," he said. "I told him exactly what happened, I told him everything we did today up to and including the fact that we kissed each other just before he came in."

"What… what did he say?"

"Not much really, he just sort of nodded and walked," he said.

Exhaling heavily, Wendy felt herself sag into the swing once more as she looked out into the darkness, trying and failing to see where her father had disappeared as she tried to process Dipper's words and compile them with what she had seen before her father had walked off. Truly, there had been no anger in his face, only a sort of understanding mixed with acceptance and – she dared hope – approval of some level. That had been the part she had expected least of all, and even though she had known about her father's soft side for years, she could scarcely comprehend its full meaning just then.

Biting her lip, she faced Dipper once more, again feeling a sense of profound calm settle over her at the patient gaze that silently asked her a dozen questions at once, even though she could also see he knew she had no answers to give. Instead, she raised the blanket from her shoulders and tucked her legs beneath her in silent invitation. Without hesitation, Dipper slid beside her and let her drape the blanket around them and a heartbeat later, she felt his fingers lace with her own as the held each other softly.

"Was that really all he said?"

"He muttered something, but I'm not completely sure what he said."

"What did it sound like?"

"I think it was something like 'Jess woulda been so proud' or something like that," he replied. "Any idea what he meant?"

Head tilting to rest upon Dipper's shoulder, Wendy tensed up slightly as she listened to his heartbeat and felt herself suddenly recalling one of her mother's old stories. A story about a woman who had once been Jessica O'Rourke and how her heart had been broken one day by someone she had thought she loved. A story about how, on a cold December night, a scruffy lumberjack had found her distraught on a park bench and offered to walk her home; a lumberjack who had then sat with her all night, letting her cry into his shoulder until she had finally fallen asleep. The same lumberjack who had watched over her all night without complaint or thought of reward, but had instead asked her how she felt the next morning.

Somehow, Wendy knew that her father had walked away because he had seen that story reflected in her own eyes that night, and ever so slowly, she nodded to Dipper's question.

"Yeah… I think I do."

"Gonna share?"

"Another time," she whispered before letting silence fall around them once more.

"Just as well, I guess. It's almost midnight," Dipper whispered, his watch alarm chirping out the confirmation of his words not ten seconds later.

"Our first Christmas," she whispered, raising up to turn and face him once more, her hand squeezing down on his as he returned the gesture.

Letting her words trail off, she felt her gaze once more drawn to the sprig of mistletoe above the front porch; not over them precisely, but above them nonetheless. As earlier, neither spoke further in that moment, but as she felt his fingers squeeze down on her own, her free hand rose in response to cup his cheek lightly, their gazes once again locked together in a moment of blissful eternity. As before, they once again let themselves be drawn together by some force neither yet felt brave enough to name, and once again time stopped as the softness of the other's kiss greeted them.

Above them, soft prismatic lights reflected out across the snow that even now fell to slowly erase Dan's tracks beneath a fresh coating of powder. Around them, silence closed in, soft and comforting as they luxuriated in the warmth of their shared blanket; and more importantly, the warmth of their shared love. Slowly breaking the kiss and shifting just enough to get comfortable, the pair rested against each other and turned to watch the night around them, smiles on their faces as their hands rested comfortably in each other's grasp.

"Merry Christmas, Dipper."

"Merry Christmas, Wendy."

"On Christmas Eve, our wish came true
That night I feel in love with you
It only took, one kiss to know
It must have been the mistletoe…"

Author's Notes:

I realize that it's a little late for Christmas (by a little over an hour here on the East Coast) by the time this will show up in the feeds, but this is my attempt at a Gravity Falls Christmas fic.

As always, I do not own Gravity Falls. All characters are © to their respective owners. No Infringement is intended.

Theme song "It must have been the Mistletoe" by Barbara Streisand

It's no secret that music inspires me and anyone who has read my stories will tell you that I always choose a theme song for them – either for individual chapters or for the story as a whole – that resonates with the way I want the story to go; at least in my mind.

This has been edited from earlier as I actually had time to do so and I am quite pleased with the results.

This story was literally just one of those that fell into my head and absolutely would not let go until it was written down. I hope you all enjoyed it… and whatever holiday you celebrate at this time of year, make it a good one filled with family, friends and most of all love.