Some things to be aware of:
*Dipper, Pacifica, and any twelve-year-old from the original series is older, specifically around 24-26. (Old enough to pay bills and to have a proper career).
*This story takes place in a present-day city, not in a simpleton and country town like Gravity Falls. (So there's skyscrapers, office buildings, metro trains and buses, modern technology, et cetera.)

If there is any other confusion that arises from the fic, notify me as soon as possible so I can fix it! Thanks.

Anyways, onwards to shipping and enjoy ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Pacifica Northwest made it.

She was panting, sweating, and her vocal chords were sore from screeching and screaming, but she made it.

The blonde wasn't a tardy, nor reckless for the matter; but when the last train back to the suburbs was about to leave in five minutes, of course logical sense triggered you to sprint from the work building and get to the underground station, while the last bits of people from the rush hour collided or crowded around you (a bad idea to become entangled in, her parents always lectured to her). Running a marathon in heels had become a daily ritual for the Northwest, as she was now accustomed to the shoes to be part of her regular work outfit and had experienced good jogs in them.

But when the speakers are announcing that the doors were closing and that the train was on it's way to the next stop, it was also sort of a stupid move to launch yourself into the gap of closing doors to assure your way in. Pacifica was rational, she knew that the right way of doing things was to stand in front of the doors calmly and press the button, allowing the line to stop and let her in; but bringing herself to minor damage by crashing in was a last minute action that triggered her.

And now, she laid blankly on the car's platform like someone who's lost their sanity.

Slowly, a burning, aching sore ate away Pacifica's foot movement. She took a few seconds to regain her voice and thoughts, and was nothing but a twitchy mess upon all of the passengers. Several passerby in the train were staring down at her with horror, disgrace, or just plain bewilderment as their peaceful, late afternoon just got ruined by an insane woman that literally slung herself into the car at last second. But Pacifica didn't care at their glares. She surpassed the common and unbeatable urban challenge- being late for a train. She smirked at the thought of it.

While regaining herself, she heard the careful steps of a person approaching her.

"A-are you alright, ma'am?" Pacifica heard a middle-aged man with a silk tie to her left croak. She heard him kneel down beside her, hoping to help, but she stood up a hand to halt him in his movements.

Pacifica dulled herself up in seconds, feeling a deadly throb in her head once she sat up, and perched uncomfortably with her heels and legs tucked to the side whilst attempting to talk to the stranger.

"Yeah, I'm fine." she replied, her vision a bit hazy. "No need for help, thank you."

Shortly, the woman felt the train move, and her body swayed at the train's sonic momentum.

The man blinked. He seemed skeptical at Pacifica's state at first, but then gave her an understanding look, and returned back to his seat, where a younger man who sat across from him was eager to talk more about the beautiful stranger that crash landed into the train. Pacifica watched them both and how the tensity of her arrival soon died down within the car and became yet another minor incident in the subway's history.

She tucked a blonde strand behind her ear and sighed.

The Northwest stood herself up and looked around the half empty subway car for somewhere to sit, and caught the few odd stares of some people who were still enthralled by her entrance. Down the rows, there were a few people pairs in the seats, either two people who knew each other and were striking up hushed conversations (mostly about her) or two complete strangers that were prying any contact from one another and were caught up in doing something else. Pacifica spotted a completely empty seat at the end of the platform, and waddled her way over. The ropes dangling from the train's metal bars kept her in balance from the train's jerky moves, and her manicured hands switched from rope to rope to keep her standing.

"Hey, fallen angel." Pacifica heard a tacky-dressed man she passed by coo at her.

She ignored him, and gave him a salty glare to back off. The man shrugged and remained quiet, staring outside bluntly.

When Pacifica got to her seat, she collapsed on the stiff cushions, sitting herself down properly and moved her way down to the window rear. Her head leaned on the glass, and her leveled breathing made a moist mist among the window. As the train was racing through a series of tunnels, she patiently waited for the loom, dim-lit environment to end, and for the evening skies to arrive in her eyes.

The train zoomed it's way out of the tunnel and glimmering shades upon an ebony black sky came into view. Pacifica was met with skyliners and buildings blanketed with dazzling, beaming gleams, colorful and large neon signs flickering from a far, and the gentle river that the tracks were built high above from reflected the entire city-life bustle in a reverse spectrum. Even though the crappy subway lights were almost ruining the entire thing, Pacifica was in awe at the sight, and quickly slung over her purse to pull out her sketchbook, as ideas started flooding into her head from the complicated view of the city.

Flipping through old designs, notes, and loose papers, the young designer set herself up to a new, fresh and blank page and cradled the book in her lap. With a dull but still manageable graphite pencil in her right grip, she spontaneously traced out a simple, slender figure leaning to the side, with a hand cradling on the right hip and a confident fist on the other. Normally a fierce and posh look for a normal model.

Pacifica took one last, detailed glimpse outside the train window, smiled, and started to doodle to her heart's content.

Initially, she lightly drew a singular, square strap to the left shoulder, but curved the torso around the collarbone and scribbled the rest down the chest and sides, making her design a one-shoulder. From there, she created a swirled line coming down from the hip to the model's feet, and connected it with a round, horizontal line and a parallel line from the other hip. A dress.

But Pacifica then thought the dress was too long.

She reached back into her bag and pulled out a thick white eraser, and gently rubbed against the sketchbook's delicate paper and the dress's flowy design was erased from existence. She blew on the paper right after to get rid of the eraser residue, and picked her pencil back up to work. She blinked, thinking to herself for a few seconds, and worked on the skirt's height and design for the next few minutes.

Pacifica wasn't sure how long time had passed while she was designing in her corner of the train, but she shortly noticed that droplets of rain started to spray the windows. The rain came down slowly, a few drops flooding for a few early minutes, and soon a waterfall of them came rushing down the subway's windows. It unfortunately stained and blurred her view of the city, adding the fact that Pacifica wasn't really a big fan of rain either. It was lucky that she bought an umbrella beforehand, however.

Pacifica decided to put her design on hold for now, and just to ease out and relax for the remainder of the time, hoping the rain would soothe her from the strain of work. She neatly returned her designing utensils back into her bag, and wiggled around in her seat to find a comfortable posture. As the train continued it's route out of the lively downtown craze and into the local neighborhoods, rain poured down Pacifica's windows like crazy. Droplets were snaking and rushing down the glass like tears. The Northwest leaned her head steadily on the window, watching all of the rain flow down and create more cesspools of water along the black rims of the window; and being blinded by the repetitive flashing of flickering lights in the city.

She closed her eyes, and released all thought in her head and relaxed.

The metal clanging of the train's tracks, the hard rain outside, and the mixture of cold and warm air within the tight space of the subway eased Pacifica down to the soul, and she silently dozed off.

"Next stop, Gopher Road."

A cold wind rushed over Pacifica and she shivered, even if she wasn't so already. Rain continued to fall hard outside and fell down like bullets on the sidewalks and streets, and the sky was a luminous shade of violet and blue. It had been a while since the last time it rained, especially a beating kind of rain and sudden, violent winds tugging out of no where.

Despite her umbrella being a bit thicker than most average umbrellas, she still felt some droplets shower her long, creamy hair from behind. It seemed like the rain was glued to her. Pacifica promised herself that she would take a nice, warm bath once she got home, fixing her tangled up locks in the process; and then carry on with a nice dinner and another marathon of Ghost Harassers.

Seemed like a fun time for a lonely designer on a Tuesday night.

The cool air of the evening circled around Pacifica like a calming and chilly veil, soothing her. The way her heels dug into the sidewalk and create small splashes also tickled her skin at the ankles, and made a continuous rhythm down the silent and bare street. Rainy days seemed to be awesome, but Pacifica has always reminded herself that she could get a vicious cold if she stayed out for too long.

(A regretful, childhood experience full of mud and tissues and discipline exactly taught her that).

A simple walk around the corner of the neighborhood and the Northwest would find herself at Gravitate Crescent, the tiny community of duplexes and condos in where she resided. The avenue was located outside of the city and was nestled near a small, friendly plaza with a nice cafe and a dental service. It was also an exact five-minute walk from the closest bus station, which was vital to Pacifica's work schedule. There were almost a dozen houses in the boulevard, and twice the amount of residents. It was small, simple, and beautiful, but the rent was fairly expensive.

Seeing the nicely printed golden words at the entrance, Pacifica could already feel the warm sensation of the heater wavering around her house and a hot cup of coffee nestled in her cold palms. Get a sketchbook, some snacks, and pop in the twenty-fifth animated anniversary special and you've got a cozy afterwork activity to do. It tugged at Pacifica's lips with a smile, and she couldn't wait to get home. She quickened her pace.

Turning a corner, her dress's skirt flying in the wind and her hands gripping onto the stem of her umbrella; Pacifica found herself at her small, square complex with it's charcoal-colored tile roofs and beige paneling. Beside her was her neighbor's side of the duplex- dark, silent, and inhabited through the windows...

And yet Pacifica almost knew nothing more about him for the matter.

If she remembered correctly, through what she was able to learn from the paperwork, her neighbor's name was Dominic, or maybe was it Daniel, or David? Or, did it start with an 'm'? It didn't really matter to her. Pacifica has only met the man once, for only a few seconds in the morning after she moved in, and he left in a blink. Heck, he didn't even give Pacifica his proper name. He blabbered the occasional 'So, I'm your neighbor, nice to have you in the crescent' and frolicked away from her forever, never to be seen by her eyes ever again. The blonde took it as a rude gesture at first, and was at least determined to know his name.

Away from the facts of her (rather rude) neighbor, Pacifica was met with trimmed hedges nestled opposite from her house's door to the right and left. Flowers such as lavenders, peonies, marigolds, and begonias were scattered across the bushes vibrantly. Two little lamps at the end of the stairwell lit the way to the front door, making Pacifica see through the thick fog.

She was finally here- her haven, her sanctuary, her independent home away from her nasty parents and just a snug and safe place she loved so much.

House 1617, labeled with a strong silver material.

The girl always got a bit giddy whenever she entered the perimeter of her household, as the thought of landing on her bed after a long day of work always made her excited. She almost felt like she was going to burst into the duplex, like she did earlier in the subway.

Pacifica walked down the slender sidewalk towards her door and perched herself on the stairwell, closing her umbrella and placing it under her arm for now. Feeling that she was a step away from a hot bath and the most comfortable mattress in the world, she reached over into her purse and dug her fingers to the secret pocket where kept her keys.

Only, she didn't pick up on anything.

This only made the blonde perk a little. She didn't feel scared at the potential of losing them. Maybe she was just imagining it, or touched the wrong pocket at least. She did admit it was dark outside.

Pft. Of course I would have my keys.

She popped her face into her bag and with careful eyes started scanning her bag intensely, trying to prove something that she wasn't sure of was right. The designer rummaged through crumpled sketchbook papers, empty candy wrappers, various cheap makeup that had already worn out, and a handful of tissues lying around, attempting to find her key to her home, but didn't find anything at all. She even checked the side pockets, even ones she wasn't using, but couldn't find a lead. Slowly escalating, the blonde stood there, her blood rushing and adrenaline drowning through troubled breaths. Pacifica was stiff, absolutely dumbfounded and panicky with no idea on what to do.

Calm down, Pacifica. Stop over-reacting. You didn't lose your keys.

The woman stood there silently and decided to retrace her entire day as a substitute option for now. Thinking about leaving her home, entering the bus and the subway, catching a few hazelnut coffees and croissants for her co-workers and boss, working... lunch break... more working... and then...

The subway incident.

"Oh, shit."

She remembered leaving them at the building when she was frantically scrambling around for her train, without remembering to pack them during the frenzy.

The girl curled her polished hands into fists and slammed her forehead on her white plaster door.

"Pacifica Elise Northwest, you dumbass!"

The girl's troubled and frustrated voice echoed through the entire avenue, and a boiling tension started to bubble in her head, causing a throbbing headache. The relaxation and unwinding that she was dying to experience went down and circled around a cruel drain. But Ghostharassers and Pizza Pockets had to wait. She's left and abandoned her keys at the studio, several miles away and an hour or so trip to get them back. And especially with the bad rain and the trains and buses on their last schdule, Pacifica knew there was no way to retrieve them in the time she had. She was locked out, wet, fatigued, and at loss.

The girl sank to the ground and collapsed in front of her own door, and sighed.

"What... do I do?"

Her first initiative was to call for help.

Rummaging through her purse once again and finding her cellphone, she scurried in her password and sped through her contacts list. At the moment, she avoided calling her parents or any faculty at the mansion. She knew they would already be disappointed rather than worried, and would immediately start hauling most of her stuff and forcing her to move back into the manor. She skipped through clients and acquainted co-workers, as none of them didn't even care or notice about her existence whatsoever.

Kind of like her neighbor, in a way.

Her first intentions to blabber to were Candy and Grenda, two of Pacifca's co-workers and close friends that lived in an apartment not far from her duplex. Despite the girls being lively, energetic, and almost absent-minded; the partners were a power duo and were one of the most innovative and creative designers on the team. They were diligent, kind, and very welcoming to Pacifica on her first day, and the three commonly go out for lunch breaks together. But, seeing their cramped and somewhat messy flat once before, she knew there was no way she could stay there for a night. And besides, the two ladies were already working on a partner project together, and had been stressed out for the past few days and pulling several all-nighters in the process. It would be a big bother if Pacifica added another pound of their worries on their backs.

Her second contact in mind was Soos Ramirez and his lovely wife, Melody, who ran a cute little cafe near Pacifica's studio. The blonde, along with other co-workers of hers, often visited the shop for breakfast and lunch breaks. Pacifica had never befriended such a great and delighting pair so fast, and she had never been so excited in her life when she heard the two were having a baby. For such a quaint and growing family, they lived faraway from Pacifica, in a small suburban neighborhood in the west of the city. If anything, it would take Pacifica a longer time to get to their house than her own workplace, and even exiting the crescent was as bad as it is.

So now her four closest allies were already out of the question.

Pacifica spent several minutes sitting hazily in the rain looking for a friend, and scrolling through murmurs of 'who is this person', and 'wait, I have this contact?'. She finally settled on one of her other designer co-workers (who was un-admittedly forced to have her contact in the first place) named Ariel. The two were partners on a project at the beginning of spring, and the young lady, despite being a bit of a sass, was actually pretty friendly when Pacifica got to know her a bit better.

Heaving and completely unsure of what she was doing, Pacifica tapped on the 'Call' button and placed the receiver timidly on her ear, and waited for a few seconds for Ariel to pick up on the other side. The blonde stood up and straightened her wobbly legs, and leaned her shoulder on the doorway.

She was idly surprised when she heard Ariel quickly pick up on the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

Pacifica's eyes darted to the flowers of the lawn's hedges and thought of her words carefully, noting to not have a mental breakdown through cell. "Uh, hi Ariel, it's me, Pacifica." the Northwest greeted, trying to sound as calm and collected compared to her current, panicked state.

The woman on the other line was quiet for a few seconds, and whispered a realized 'oooh' right after. "My partner for the Spring Collection project, right?" the woman blantly spoke out of the blue.

Pacifica wasn't sure to take that as an insult or not, but replied with a fake cheerful 'mhm'.

"Well, hey," Ariel responded back, positive she knew she wasn't talking to a stranger. "Is there anything you need?"

Pacifica steadied herself on the door, preparing her words, and her azure eyes traveled up to stare at the duplex roof's edges. "I've... got a bit of a problem," she croaked.

"Oh? Is it with this month's designs?" Ariel filled in words that she thought would fit into the puzzle, but to no avail.

"No, no, no, nothing related to work, actually."

Ariel was quiet for a few seconds, then released an exasperated groan. "If you've come for boy problems, I'm definitely not your girl, Pacifica."

The Northwest spatted and blushed red from embarrassment. "No, nothing related to that at all. I'm just... in a bit of a fickle."

"What's wrong?"

Pacifica straightened her stiff back and exchanged her eyes over to her heels, taking a deep breath.

"I'm locked out of my own house."

A few quiet seconds. Then a minute, then a 'pft' on the other line, like Ariel was constraining a laugh and thinking Pacifica told a joke.

"Did your roommate lock you out?" she replied a bit comedic, implying if Pacifica was joking.

"No, I don't live with anyone, Ariel. I forgot my keys back at the studio, and now, I have no place to go. And with this rain, I'm freezing my skin out here." Pacifica explained, never thinking she would sound so serious ever in her entire life. The designer started to pace around in her one spot, walking around in frustrated circles and looking like an angered businesswoman. "And I was wondering if you could, um, help me with this situation? You're really the only one I could turn to right now."

If Ariel was right in front of her, Pacifica thought she would be blinking mindlessly and be a blank, confused slate. As the quietness elapsed, rain still hitting hard and distant thunder crashing; the blonde started to regret her words and had the urge to hang up, but hope tugged her back when she heard Ariel clear her voice on the other line.

"Ehhhh..." Ariel started, sounding unsure. "If you were wondering about staying over at my place, I just have to make a few slight arrangements. A close friend of mine is staying over here as well, and I have to make a bit of room for three people. It's a possibility, but it'll take some time."

The tightness in Pacifica's veins loosened, but still throbbed painfully in her body. "Oh, thank God."

"Have you talked to Clark about your keys yet?" Ariel replied shortly after.

Now Pacifica was the one aimlessly blinking. "Clark?"

"What? Hello, Clark? The friendly clerk at the front of the building? Takes care of the faculty like it was his own child?"

... Clark?

Retracing back to her hazy memory, Pacifica tried to match up all the blur of faces in her life with the name 'Clark', attempting to find the true owner. It took a few tries, but it was clear as day when she remembered the sweet, middle-aged man with caramel brown hair who had a vintage chalk mug filled with sugar fused coffee by his desk every morning.

"Oh, right, Clark Chiave."

That's when she clearly remembered who Clark exactly was. He was always the last one to exit out of the studio, and always the first one to get in.

If able, Clark could get her keys at any time.

Realization hit Pacifica like a thick storm of hail.

"Thank you for reminding me, Ariel. I have to tell him about it, maybe he's still at the building."

Ariel chuckled pridefully on the other side. "No problem. Well, is there anything else you want to talk about?"

Pacifica thought about it, besides the amount of 'thank you's' she could give to the magenta-haired, but she shook her head, relieved her problem was started to untangle. "No, that was all. Thank you so much for everything, Ariel. I don't know how exactly to repay you for all of this."

Ariel heaved an amused laugh that came out as strong static in Pacifica's ear. "You don't really have to repay me, it's just something out of the blue people need to do once in a while. And hey, you're new to the city, so it's reasonable enough for yourself to get in this sort of situation. Remember to be careful next time, kay'? And find someplace to stay warm for now, like a nearby restaurant, or a neighbor's house, or something. I'll give you an answer as soon as I possibly can."

"Got it. I'll try contacting Clark to see if he can help too." Pacifica noted, and she felt a prideful warmth grow in her stomach, giving her comfort. "Thank you once again for everything. Bye, and have a good evening, Ariel."

"Take care, Pacifica."

Concluding their farewells, they both hung up on their phones, ending their conversation. A few seconds after, Pacifica took her phone and held it tighter within her grip and scrolled to the top, seeing the bold name of Clark on her contacts, now remembering his friendly face every morning when she walked in. With no hestiation and a bucket of hopeful expectations in her heart, she clicked on his number and slid her phone under her ear, and re-positioned herself so her back leaned on the door, and she steadied herself.

Relaxing and still trying to keep calm inside, Pacifca's eyes were then met with the bullet-rain-evening and the dreamy night atmosphere, and how a soft wind brushed against the stained grass and wet cement sidewalks. Lamplights were flickering, passerby cars drove far in the distance; and all the muffled, soft sounds drained her ears and settled her boiling nerves. How Pacifica knew everything was going to be okay, how she was getting somewhere, and just the mere look of a blank faced glasses brunette man standing in her duplex's driveway with such a soft face and 'geeky' vibe going on-

Wait.

Pacifica did a double-take to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. There, a few meters away from her, was a tall and ideal man with messy chestnut hair, wearing a warm coat with dark jeans and muddy converse, holding a dark navy umbrella underneath the pouring rain. His face was plastered in absolute shock, and his eyes barely blinked, pupils dilated like he experienced a psychological tragedy. He was glued to Pacifica, like he was inspecting her in a fit of panic. Pacifica didn't know what to say at that exact point, but the man's glare made her feel uncomfortable. She stirred in her one spot, and had never felt so impatient for someone to answer their phone.

For what seemed like a year had passed, the brunette opened his mouth to speak, and Pacifica felt a chilling tingle travel down her spine when she noticed the soft movement of his lips.

"You're... locked out of your house?"

Also 'Chiave' is pronounced 'key-ah-vay', if some readers were confused. :')

Thanks for reading, you're amazing. :'D

-TheSakuraHunter