AN: I love the concept of Relativity Falls, but one of the big sticking points for me is I'm also a hardcore Dipper/Pacifica shipper and that can't work in Relativity Falls. Or so I thought. For whatever reason I was thinking about it today and decided to math the ages out. If we assume that in that scene in Journal 3 where Ford confronts Preston about the Northwest family legacy Preston is about twelve, that would mean the two of them are fifteen years apart. That would mean when Grunkle Dipper comes back through the portal at fifty-eight, Pacifica would be forty-three. That is so totally doable guys!

This takes place immediately after the Relativity Falls version of the Lost Legends story "Face It," but I remain pretty vague on the details, so it's not a problem if you aren't familiar with that story.

At first when Preston came home covered in garbage, Pacifica had been concerned in the extreme. Normally her son was meticulous about his appearance – she'd seen him insist on changing his shirt because of a single tiny wrinkle before – she couldn't imagine what kind of trouble he could have gotten into that would have resulted in him being covered in garbage. However, after three minutes of helping him pick trash out of his hair and ten minutes of him hurling insults at the Pines twins, she was beginning to wish she could ship him off to his father to deal with for a while. She never actually would do that, of course; her ex-husband was a terrible father and time spent with him would only serve to heighten Preston's misbegotten sense of purebred superiority.

"And then that old man coming in to 'save' us. As if a Northwest ever needed saving!" Preston ranted. "I ought to put him in his place, the same as those obnoxious Pines twins."

"Leave Sr. Ramírez alone," she told him firmly. Kids picking on each other was one thing – not a thing Pacifica approved of, but she couldn't pretend she hadn't done the same and worse at Preston's age. But she was drawing a line at harassing a sweet old man who wouldn't hurt a fly; she had literally once seen him open a window to shoo a fly out rather than swat at it.

"Not him," Preston said.

"Who then?" Pacifica asked. Reading between the lines, there was obviously someone she needed to thank for pulling Preston out of trouble.

"I don't know. All those commoners look the same to me," he said.

"Preston," Pacifica said warningly.

He pouted at her. He would probably call it a scowl or a glower or a glare, but her son was definitely a pouter. "I don't think I've met him before. The Pines twins called him Grunkle Dipper."

"Oh." A very long time ago, before the Mystery Shack had been the Mystery Shack, it had been a spooky cabin out in the woods where a creepy old scientist lived. Dipper Pines. He had come out to the Northwest mansion once to see her father, but twelve-year-old Pacifica had intercepted him. He had spewed all kinds of conspiracies and insinuations about the Northwest family, making them out to be cheats and liars and all-around terrible people. At the time Pacifica had dismissed him, quite literally. When he had accused her of being another link in the world's worst chain as security was escorting him out of the house, Pacifica had scoffed. And yet the conversation stayed in the back of her mind, a constant needling thought that maybe the Northwest lineage wasn't as great as her parents had always made it out to be.

"Do you know him?" Preston asked.

"I think I met him once," Pacifica answered. "Now why don't you go take a shower and get changed? I have something I need to run out and do, but I should be back shortly, okay?"

"Okay." Preston's expression was still dour, and it was clear that whatever else was going on, he was having a bad day.

Pacifica hugged him. "I love you." It was important to her he knew that was true, even when he was covered in garbage and being obnoxious. Although, maybe now she should get changed too before she left.

Pacifica stood outside the front door to the residential side of the Mystery Shack, feeling unaccountably nervous and rather like she shouldn't be there. Which was ridiculous; she and Mabel weren't friends exactly, but they were on good terms. In years past Pacifica had mocked the woman relentlessly, but five years ago when Pacifica had lost her father, discovered the secret room of paintings he had been hiding from her, had an existential crisis, divorced her husband, gone through a custody battle, and seriously considered burning the entire ancestral Northwest manor down in rapid succession, Mabel had shown up at her doorstep with a tray of sugar cookies that had probably been more rainbow sprinkle than cookie. Pacifica had screamed at her, thrown the cookies on the ground, and then collapsed and began sobbing uncontrollably. Mabel had handled the whole thing remarkably well, staying with Pacifica until she calmed down, and extending an open offer to stop by if she ever needed someone to talk to. Pacifica had been too embarrassed to take her up on the offer before, but it did mean she had every right to be here now.

She knocked on the door. A minute later one of the twins – no glasses, so Stan – opened it. "We didn't do it!" he shouted, then slammed the door shut again.

Pacifica stared wood of the door for a moment in confusion. Should she knock again? Should she take this as a sign and just leave? Before she could decide either way, the door swung back open. This time Stan was standing off to the side, arms crossed, and Ford was the one opening it. "Hi Mrs. Northwest. I'm guessing you're here about earlier?"

"Preston did mention the three of you had a bit of an adventure today," Pacifica said.

"And I bet he told you it was our fault. Well he's lying; he's the one who started it," Stan said.

Pacifica bit back a grimace. "The important thing now is everyone is okay. You both are okay, right?" She looked them both up and down, searching for signs of injuries.

"Now why would Mrs. Northwest be here asking if you two are okay?" Mabel asked from the doorway. She glanced up, gave a bright, "Hi, Pacifica," and then went back to giving the boys a stern look.

"There may have been an incident with Preston today," Ford prevaricated.

"Yeah, if by incident you mean he was being a total jerkface," Stan said. A comment which received admonishing cries of "Stanley" from both Ford and Mabel in stereo.

"It's alright. I know Preston can be… frustrating at times," Pacifica said. Lord knew he frustrated her often enough.

"Hmph," Mabel said, giving the two boys one last pointed look. "Well, all's well that ends well, I guess. Preston is alright, isn't he?"

"Nothing a shower won't cure," Pacifica assured her.

"Great. It was nice of you to stop by and check on my two little munchkins too," Mabel said.

"That's actually not the only reason, I'm here. I was wondering…" Pacifica licked her lips. "I was wondering if your brother was home?"

"Brother, who said anything about me having a brother?" Mabel said, and for a minute Pacifica thought maybe she had gotten it wrong. Then Ford spoke up.

"Um… Grauntie Mabel? During that incident that may have happened, we may have had to call Grunkle Dipper for help, and Preston may have seen him and told his mom about him."

"Uh-huh, Well, the cat's out of that bag," Mabel said. She looked at Pacifica. "You sure you want to talk to him? Dipper's kind of being a total jerkface too right now."

"I'm sure," Pacifica said, though she was no such thing. "I wanted to thank him."

"Of course you did," Mabel grumbled. "Fine, I guess somebody around here ought to get thanked. Maybe Dipper will even learn some manners. Wait here, I'll get him."

Mabel left, leaving Pacifica standing there with the two boys. She smiled at Ford. "Come across any more cursed objects lately?"

"Not since your party," Ford said. Back during said party, Pacifica had spotted Ford leaving the ballroom and had followed him. He had confessed to her he'd only ever come to the party in the first place because he had heard there were a number of interesting and historically significant artifacts in the Northwest mansion and he wanted to take a look at them. Something about this kid sneaking out of a party all alone had tugged at Pacifica, so she had agreed to give him a tour. The cursed amulet had been something neither had them had been expecting, but Ford had handled himself and the situation amazingly well.

"Oh yeah, what about those dice of Grunkle Dipper's?" Stan said.

"That die wasn't cursed, it was just… magic, I guess," Ford said.

"It sure seemed like a curse when your and Dipper's brains were about to get eaten."

"Dipper owns dice that eat brains?" Pacifica asked. That was alarming. Though someone who had recently owned an amulet that turned people into plants probably shouldn't be judging.

"No, it wasn't the die that was going to eat our brains, that was Probabiliator," Ford said, and the two of them launched into the whole story of what had happened.

Just as the story was winding down, someone cleared their throat. "Mabel insisted I come up here?" Dipper said, walking in from the other room with Mabel right behind.

Oh. Because Dipper had been fully an adult back when Pacifica had still been a pre-teen, she had been assuming that now that she was approaching middle age, he would be a decidedly old man. She had not been prepared for him to look not too much older than herself. She really hadn't been prepared for him to be hot.

"Yes, hi," Pacifica said, grabbing a firm hold of her composure. She offered her hand, and after a long moment of staring at it, Dipper shook it. "I'm Pacifica Northwest. You might not remember-"

"I remember you." Dipper dropped her hand and took a step back. "You were that obnoxious little girl with the pet fox."

Pacifica blinked rapidly a few times against the sudden stinging in her eyes. She wasn't sure exactly what she'd been expecting, but… But nothing. It was probably no worse than she deserved after how she had behaved last time. "Yes, that was me. My son Preston told me a little about what happened today and-"

Dipper rolled his eyes. "I should have guessed he was your kid."

"Another link in the chain," she snapped, then bit down, hard. She wasn't going to do this. She had come here to thank him, and that's what she was going to do. She was going to be the better person she knew she was now, even if he didn't see it. "Look, I came here to say thank you for helping my son earlier. And also… that day when you came to the mansion, that was the first time I'd ever really heard anyone say anything bad about the Northwest family. I wasn't ready to listen then, but what you said, everything you said, stuck with me. And when I finally did have to face the truth, I had your voice in the back of my head reminding me that wasn't what I wanted to be anymore. I didn't want to be another link in the world's worst chain. You made me a better person, so, thank you."

"Oh," Dipper said, looking at her like he was only now really seeing her. "I, uh… you're welcome."

With that resolved, Pacifica could feel a blush slowly starting to rise in her cheeks. She had basically just bared her soul to Dipper, who she had spent years building up larger than life inside her head and who was unexpectedly really good-looking, and she had done it in front of Mabel and two small children. "Great," she said, slowly backing away. Because the only thing that would be more embarrassing at this point would be turning tail and fleeing. "That's all I really wanted to say, so I'll-"

"Pacifica, wait." Somehow, without ever having appeared to have moved, Mabel was now standing behind Pacifica and propelling her forward into the house by the shoulders. "You can't leave already. You've never even seen the Mystery Shack before, have you?"

"No I haven't?"

"Perfect! Dipper can give you the tour right now," she said, and then gave Pacifica one last shove, nearly sending her toppling into the man.

"What? Mabel, I don't give tours. I especially don't give tours of the kitschy side show you've turned my house into," Dipper protested.

"Dipper, stop being an idiot jerkface." Now Mabel was suddenly standing next to Dipper, elbowing him in the ribs. "Don't listen to him Pacifica, he'd love to give you a tour."

"I wouldn't mind that," Pacifica said, trying to keep her blush down through sheer force of will. She didn't think she was particularly successful.

Dipper looked at her in abject surprise. "You wouldn't?"

"Only if you want to," she said.

"Of course he wants to!" Mabel said. "Now come on you two munchkins, you need to come help me make dinner. You're staying for dinner, right Pacifica?"

"I don't– Preston-" Pacifica stuttered, starting to feel a bit dizzied by the whirlwind of Mabel Pines.

"Preston's invited too. It wouldn't be a family dinner unless the family was all here, would it? Great, that's settled. To the kitchen boys, chop, chop," Mabel said, quickly ushering Stan and Ford out of the room.

Leaving Dipper and Pacifica alone. Dipper cleared his throat awkwardly. "I, uh… I'm really not good at giving tours. Mabel would be able to do it much better."

"If you don't want to…" Pacifica said, feeling her heart sink a little.

"No," Dipper said, just a little too urgently. "I mean yes. I mean I want to. I…" He reached his hand up like he was going to run it through his hair. At the very last second he stopped himself, clenching his hand into a fist and very deliberately moving it away from his forehead. He shook his arm out, literally shook it, then offered it to her with a nervous smile.

Pacifica gently placed her hand on top of it and smiled back. It was ridiculous and overdone and old-fashioned, and Pacifica was maybe a little bit in love with it already.