Familiarity: Part 1

You're going to do what?" Dipper's mom called through the phone.

"Stay up here, yeah. It's... kind of crazy, and doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but Grunkle Stan wasn't really dead! Mabel and I figured out what happened, and things are looking good up here," Dipper told his mom through the phone, sitting outside by the gift shop door.

The three had just gone inside with their bags when Miss Pines called her son. Dipper, as he rushed outside to take the call, told Mabel that she had better call their dad as well. He wanted to ensure they informed their parents of what they were planning; staying up at Gravity Falls for a tad longer than the plan originally called for.

"You sure your Grand Uncle isn't just guilting you on staying up there?" his mom asked suspiciously. "This sounds exactly like the kind of thing he would do if he wanted some free workers."

"Mom, this isn't just about Grunkle Stan," Dipper replied, looking behind him to the lit window, where Mabel paced, talking on the phone, "and there's something else going on up here too."

"Dipper, is this one of those stories you wrote about?" his mom asked after a pause.

"Mom-" he started, not wanting to debate the truth of his stories once again, a long done argument he had with his parents.

"Okay, okay, so you need to figure something out up there. Do you want me to tell Pizza Asteroid that you've been pre-occupied with something important? Maybe they'll buy jury duty..."

"I'm not old enough for jury duty," Dipper told her.

"Oh, I'll figure it out," she told him lazily, "how long do you think it'll take?"

Dipper looked around. The sun rested just below the horizon, and the orange glow from the sky above and between the many trees of the deep woods cast a warm light around him. In truth, he wanted to tell her he was going to be here all summer. The mystery presented could, in fact, take that long and he wanted to spend some quality time in Gravity Falls. Then again, he did need to go back eventually. He sighed as he considered the idea of solving this mystery- and looked to one of the blue transparent glowing batteries they had acquired as it rested in his hand.

"Two weeks?" he guessed.

"That's a bit of summer you're losing," she warned him.

"It's not that bad!" Dipper said back, "I mean, all I would be doing back home is waiting tables and flipping pizzas around, or whatever. Not exactly a job with a lot of training needed. It won't be that bad if I stay up here for a bit longer."

"As long as you think you can afford to do this," his mother reminded him as she spoke, and he waited for her to continue, "how's Mabel?"

"She's, uh, herself," Dipper said politely and his mother chuckled in response.

"It's been a while since you two last saw each other, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," Dipper nodded sadly. His mother seemed to note the sadness in his voice well, and she switched her tone.

"Well, take your time up there. I'll tell your manager-to-be that you have important business that needs you there for now. Enjoy your time with your sister, and don't get into trouble slash get hurt!" His mom warned him and he happily chuckled.

"Okay, okay, mom," Dipper agreed. "Love you, okay?"

"Tell your sister that I love you both!" Miss Pines called through the phone one last time before he hung up. Dipper looked around the woods once more, peering around for anything of interest.

It still struck him as weird to be back in, to him, such an important place. The Mystery Shack, or Manor as Grunkle Stan planned it to be, was a pinnacle of adventure and life. It was a realm where struggles and battles he would never forget took place almost daily. Here he was, sitting on the deck of a place that would forever linger in his memories. He worried if this brief stay at Gravity Falls would add to those death-defying moments he came to associate with this town. He already had escaped from a desperately crazed treasure hunter and his two speaking dogs; what else could be waiting in the near future?

"DIPPER!"

Dipper craned his head directly above him, and Mabel peered down at him from the attic window she had just shoved open.

"DAD SAYS HI, DOOFUS!"

"Hi dad!" Dipper called and waved to his sister, who giggled and popped back inside. Dipper smiled and looked once more at the gravel path before him that lead to the main road. He then stood and turned to the door. Dipper walked inside and through the closed down gift shop, passing the shadowed cheap products his grand uncle would try to sell on a daily basis. He almost passed Grunkle Stan, who sat by the TV in the living room, lazily sprawled out on his chair.

"Catching up on The Duchess Approves?" Dipper asked with a knowing grin to his Uncle, who stared at the television.

"Ha! I wish they had that on instead of this crud. Can you believe they'd put all this other stuff on instead of genuinely good cinematic classics?" he told his grand nephew as he motioned to the TV.

"The remote is right there," Dipper pointed to the remote sitting atop the television.

"Yeah, I forgot it when I turned the TV on. But- it's this chair! As soon as you sit down," Grunkle Stan attempted to raise up, and found himself struggling considerably, "see? You go no where!"

"We now return to 'Our Feelings Guurrl: Problems of Privileged Teenagers in Suburbia'," the proper male television announcer stated clearly. Stan looked mortified.

"Dipper, if you have an compassion for an old man, you will hand me that remote," Grunkle Stan begged.

"... on the Channel Formerly Known as Learning and Stuff," the announcer concluded.

"Oh god!" Grunkle Stan clapped his hands against his ears.

"Here," Dipper sighed, and tossed his Grunkle Stan the remote.

"Oh, sweet release!" Grunkle Stan sighed and instantly changed the channel. The TV flashed again and again until Grunkle Stan spotted a particular show set in a pawn shop. "Whoa, what's this?" Stan asked.

"Oh, that's Broker-Nova," Dipper told him, "some of my friends are into it."

"This here is a priceless edition of George Washington's boy-scout ring," a visitor of the televised shop stated, "and here are sixteen documents claiming its authenticity."

"This is a really great item just to see for myself," the show cut to one of the owners of the shop being interviewed, and he started explaining, "I really wanted to have this in my shop, but I had to ask myself- was sixteen documents really enough?" the owner shook his head, "How much do you want for it?" the camera changed back to inside the shop.

"Six thousand dollars is what a museum offered me," the visitor stated.

"I'll give you sixty bucks, cash," the store manager told him up-front. The owner of the ring looked hard at the shop owner, and sweat started to form aside his head as he clearly had a great mental struggle before him.

"You have yourself a deal!" the visitor answered, and shook the man's hand.

"HAHAHA! That guy got stiffed! I love this show!" Grunkle Stan roared, and leaned closer to the television.

"I kind of figured you would," Dipper said, and left the room. Climbing up the stairs, he heard his Uncle laugh harder at the television, and wondered if he had made a mistake by introducing his Grunkle to that show. He shrugged as he landed the last step and turned to the hallway that lead to his room. He yawned as he swung the door open.

"GACK! DIPPER!" Mabel screamed as he entered the room.

"WHAT!? WHERE!?" he shouted, looking to all the walls, ceiling and the floor, thinking something was inside their room.

"GET OUT!" Mabel screamed, holding a robe up to her nude body. Dipper also shrieked, and tried spinning to leave, instead hitting his face on the side of the doorframe.

"I'm sorry!" Dipper apologized hastily and covered his eyes and flew out the room. With his eyes covered he ran dead into the wall ahead of him without a moment of hesitation, and fell aside. "Ow," he groaned, holding his nose tentatively, and the door behind him slammed shut. Dipper waited for what felt like an hour for his sister to finish getting changed inside the room before he knocked.

"It is safe to enter," his sister's voice floated from inside.

"Right," he hesitantly opened the door and slowly peeked around. Mabel sat on her bed in brightly colored pajama pants and her old floppy disk t-shirt, reading happily into a magazine about fashion for dances. "So... er... mom says she loves you."

"How is she?" Mabel asked looking up briefly from her magazine to her brother, who wasn't entirely sure how to handle himself after what had just happened.

"She's good. Her job now has her working a lot, but she misses you," Dipper said stiffly as he walked to his bed and sat down, looking dead ahead and blank.

"That's nice. Hey, check this out!" Mabel pushed into his vision an advertisement for a pair of pants of varying color and a lot of electrical wiring, "what do you think? You can plug it into your computer, and program the colors it changes to based on the amount of steps you take! It even comes with dances pre-programmed!"

"Yeah," Dipper said distantly.

"That's what I thought!" Mabel pulled it back excitedly, only to push another outlandish picture, this time of shoes that detect songs that are playing aloud, and then plays that same music with them, "we should totally get these in bulk."

"Yeah," Dipper once again agreed.

"Wow! You're really feeling this tonight, aren't you?" Mabel laughed and flipped through the magazine once more, and gasped, "what about this!?" she held ahead easily the most crazy object being advertised: plates, forks, spoons and knives that could only be used while in motion.

"Yeah," Dipper robotically repeated.

"Okay, two is one thing, but three in a row? What gives?" Mabel put the magazine down and stared carefully at her brother, who was initially unresponsive.

"I'm currently trying to focus on nothing. That way I can burn out the image of my sister, nearly *****," he said, not daring to look at her, fearing a full focus glance to her would spur the memory he dared not have.

"Aw, come on Dipper," Mabel tried assuring him, "you have to relax! That kind of thing happens with siblings! If we'd been living together for these past three years, you'd have gotten over it by now."

"But we haven't," Dipper finally dared to look at his sister. He was gratified with her normal appearance not providing flashbacks, "and I really don't need that to happen again, you know."

"Dip, you just need to roll with it. I mean, you were totally ready to charge into Grunkle Stan when he was in the middle of a shower," Mabel reminded him honestly, and his cheeks grew pink.

"That was for a cause," he growled in reply, "finding out the identity of that tattoo was important!" Mabel just laughed and pointed teasingly at him. "Okay, fine! I'll get over it, but I don't want to have to go through that trauma again." Mabel calmed her laughing and peered disapprovingly at him.

"Trauma, humph. I'm not even on the gross scale like Grunkle Stan," she warned him, but Dipper had already begun his thinking.

"Maybe what we need are a set of rules for this room," Dipper nodded to himself as he thought out loud, "that way, as long as we both follow them, nothing like that can happen."

"Uggh," Mabel groaned and fell back against her bed, already unenthused about the idea, "c'mon Dipper, it was just one hiccup in our stay. Can we not write a whole 'Declaration of Lame-Vacation' just over this little incident?"

"Here," Dipper said to himself as he withdrew a notebook and pen from his backpack, "we can start a list of potential rules. Let's start with the obvious," he said, and looked to Mabel. She sighed and put a pillow on her face. "Mabel, this is a good idea if we want some sibling civility."

"But I don't want ruuuules," she whined through the pillow.

"Well I think it's a good idea," Dipper said, "maybe... rule one," he started writing, "always knock."

"Whaaat?" Mabel sat up and looked at Dipper, "you mean every time I have to enter my room, I have to wait, knock, and then, if I get an answer, I can enter?"

"It makes sure if either of us are inside, we have the chance to get fair warning," Dipper argued.

"Fiiiine," Mabel huffed, "wait, what if no one's inside? Do I just wait forever?" she asked with an air of mystery and fear.

"Easy- five second rule," Dipper nodded to his idea, "and that's a sub-rule to number one."

Mabel again fell back to her bed, her face twisted in anguish and disgust. While she had always missed her brother while they had been away, there was a total freedom to having a room that entirely belonged to her. Not a single rule would be written for her living space. Her dad had 'house rules' that applied to her room, but she bent them as much as she could, usually getting to the better of her dad's patience. This would usually end in a heated debate between the two.

"How about rule six," Dipper continued, shocking Mabel that he had already, on his own, come up with four more rules before this new one, "clothing that is clean is to be put away in an orderly fashion, and dirty clothes must remain on the side of the occupant."

"Oh c'mon Dipper!" Mabel shot up again while scowling, "I can tolerate half of that, but not the whole whopping package."

"I feel like there's a joke somewhere for what you just said," Dipper grinned mildly.

"Shuddup," Mabel told him, "kill the one about orderly clothes having to be put away quickly and you've got a deal."

"What, so you can leave your clean clothes in a pile and never put them away?" Dipper asked her bitterly.

"You want me to throw my dirty bras all over the place!?" she demanded, and Dipper's mouth fell open in horror, "cus I'll do it, man!"

"Okay! Amendment approved. Just dirty clothes," Dipper growled as he wrote it down.

"Dude, let's just, like, deal with each other like normal siblings and stuff- these rules are going to be crazy in the end if we always have to follow them," Mabel asked pleadingly.

"This is for the better. We'll have less to fight about if it's on paper already. Who's wrong?..." Dipper asked around like he was uncertain of a answer to an unspoken question, "...why look at that, this set of room rules already tells us who? Wow!"

"This is my room too, you know," Mabel said quietly, her lips puffing out in indignation. Dipper heard her, slightly stunned at her comment. He frowned, stood, and held the list above her.

"Point me out one then that doesn't work," he demanded of her as he loomed above her. Her eyes scanned the rules painfully. As much as she wanted to deny the fact, none of the room rules actually had negatives. She merely gave Dipper an angered sticking-out-of-her-tongue, and turned away. "Thought so," Dipper sighed.

"Why can't we just chill together?" Mabel asked deliberately.

"There," Dipper said, casually ignoring his sister, as he taped the list to the wall by the door, "fifteen rules to follow when living in this room. This should minimize problems while we're here."

"It's already causing problems," Mabel pouted quietly.

"I heard that," Dipper caught her, and she stared at him, "this isn't about the rules themselves, is it? You just don't want to have any rules for your room!"

"Of course I don't, Dipper!" Mabel cried out exasperatedly, "what kind of maniac wants to come back to their room and be on watch for their own laws?!"

"If you break your own rules, it never is a problem," Dipper told her, and turned for his bed and began collecting sleeping wear.

"Like we follow rules!" Mabel called back, "if anything, since our first summer, we've broken, like, a bazillion rules! You're telling me you're a perfect little angel at moms?" Mabel demanded from her brother, who was slipping off his shoes under his bed, and retrieving a robe and bathroom supplies.

"I will be changing in the bathroom," Dipper told her with a air of ease, "as it states on the list- change in the bathroom when someone is occupying the room."

"OH, YOU-" Mabel furiously started, but Dipper calmly walked out, "YEAH- YOU... YOU BETTER STAY CLEAN! You... stupid, rule oriented jerk!"

Mabel laid in bed furiously, her arms crossed tightly as she waited for her brother to return. She had many a choice word to use in battle against him, and awaited her chance at full force retaliation. However time passed, and she was left to stew in her negative energy, boiling and reducing into a state of true teenage bitterness. She had not the will nor energy to even hiss at her brother when he returned from a shower.

"Yes?" he asked as he spotted her mean stares when he entered.

"You're poop," she said in a disgruntled voice, and turned from him. Dipper stood for a moment, wondering if the comically childish insult was worth being mad about. About five seconds of pondering, he shrugged, and eventually was in bed too.

Dipper was, to his shock, first to rise in the morning. Mabel was not far behind on the race to awaken, but the fact he had trumped his sister on the chance to be up before her was glory enough- it meant he got first shot at bathroom usage. His process was little interrupted, with exception to Mabel, who snuck inside the shower while he used it, and stole all the towels.

"Do it!" she called from the other side of the closed bathroom door, holding all the towels with an evil smile.

"Ugh!" Dipper groaned through the door, and he sighed, readying himself for the impending new pop song, "Fine. 'Baby just can't leave me hanging, my call for you has me all a swaying, so lets skip the dance floor because we have even more'. Now give me one of those towels!"

"You didn't siiing it," She reminded him, but he pounded on the door with his fist, and she relented, "FINE. Spoilsport," she allowed the door to open and she tossed a towel in without peeking. Dipper walked out a minute after with his robe and towel tucked around him.

"You're dead later," he warned her. Her reply was to fluttered her eyelashes and step inside the bathroom with her own abundance of towels and washing supplies.

Dipper stepped into the attic room and quickly began to change. He wouldn't be caught ***** like his sister was, and so he made it quick with his boxers and pants. As he slipped on his button up shirt, he peeked outside to check the weather. It looked great; sunny and cloudless, the sky was a bright blue and the trees gently swayed.

"Good day for outside stuff," he told himself as he looked through the window. Pulling back, he then spotted something below, by the lining of the forest.

A small figure in the shadows seemed to be staring up at the window. Dipper pressed himself closer to the window and stared, trying to get a better look at whatever watched him. He couldn't make out any details on 'it', but it remained steady as it peered up at him. As he watched, it revealed a set of glowing red eyes.

"What..." Dipper wondered aloud, and decided he would have to take his chances. He turned and sprinted, running for his shoes and socks. After slamming both pairs onto his feet, he darted down the stairs, nearly running over Grunkle Stan, who spilled hot coffee onto his shirt and pants.

"AH! MY GROIN!" Grunkle Stan roared in pain as Dipper ran past him, through the shop, and finally outside.

"Whoa, dude," Wendy jolted aside as Dipper flew past her, and came to a halt by the gravel parking lot, looking to where he was certain the creature had been, "uh, Dipper?"

"I saw something from the window," Dipper told her while approaching a large bush that was nearby.

"Wait, like a 'something' or a 'something'?" She asked as he crept closer to the forest edge.

"It looked alive, I had to see what it was!" Dipper said as he pushed his hands through the leaves and branches. He found nothing. "Dang it," he let the cluster of foliage collapse in together, "footprints, maybe it had footprints."

"Here, let me help," Wendy approached as well, and peered at the ground for anything, "how long ago did you say you saw that thing?"

"Not two minutes ago," Dipper told her as he moved aside snapped branches and old rotten leaves from the ground, hoping for an embedded print of some kind.

"I must have just missed it then, or... aw shoot," Wendy growled and stood up fully, "what if I scared it away when I got here?"

Dipper stood up too, and gave her a look. She appeared upset with the possibility that she may have inadvertently cut short a mystery creature hunt. As he looked to the redhead, Dipper remembered the feelings he once had for her, a candle long since burnt out. However, he didn't like to let her down, and he sighed and straightened up fully.

"Nah, don't worry about it Wendy," he said calmly, "it was probably a crazy shadow I saw or something. I mean, no tracks, no noises... you didn't hear anything coming here, right?" he asked her.

"Not a hoot from the woods," she replied.

"Ah, then lets forget it. I'm sure something else will come around here anyway," Dipper said warmly.

"Thanks man," she patted his shoulder," hey, you ever going to button up?"

"Huh?" he asked her.

"Your shirt, dude," she winked at him, and he gasped, and desperately tried coving his partially exposed chest. Wendy laughed at his desperation, yet gave him a wink, "dude, don't worry. Won't tell anyone I saw."

"Like it's anything to see," Dipper rolled his eyes dissatisfied.

"What?" she turned on him, displeased at his self-discouragement and gave him a strong enough punch for it to make him wince, "no down-talking yourself."

"Ow... okay, okay," Dipper nodded with a half-grin.

"C'mon. The one thing I did hear was Stan shouting something from the Shack," she snickered and Dipper hesitated, aware of the pain he caused his Grunkle in the search for what panned out to be nothing. They bother entered, where the grand picture of Grunkle Stan holding an old-style ice pack to his crotch awaited. Wendy could not contain herself, and left the room and burst out laughing.

"Yeah, real funny, isn't it," Grunkle Stan growled at Wendy and Dipper, who was having a hard time keeping a straight face despite his guilt, "we'll give them out for free to the rest of you shmucks; free dumping of fresh, hot coffee. See how you like it."

"Pass," Dipper instantly said.

"Ditto," Wendy re-entered the room, having fulfilled her humor, and took her place behind the counter, rocking back in the chair, and her feet up.

"I LOVE FREE THINGS!" a dressed Mabel shouted as she descended the stairs, having Grunkle Stan drop the heavy ice bag onto his feet. He shouted as he hopped on one foot, clutching it with his hand, and still holding another to his injured crotch. "What an original dance move, Grunkle Stan!."

"We should totally try that," Soos said as his head appeared from the other side of the doorframe.

"You and me, brotha," Mabel told Soos, and the two began to replicate the moves Stan was making in his pain.

"Oh man, no one told me today was 'party up in the shop'!" Wendy cheered as three people, one injured, and two way too enthused, hopped around on one foot.

"Adding notable ridiculous memories in the shack to file... complete," Dipper said as he watched the three.

"Gah! That's 'Manor' to you!" Grunkle Stan reminded Dipper as he finally calmed down. Grunkle Stan blinked, and turned to the two still dancing, "and what are you two supposed to be? Burned alive flamingos?"

"Inspired by Stanley Pines," Wendy snickered with Dipper.

"Well stop it, before I pay you to keep both feet on the ground for the rest of your lives," Grunkle Stan told them as they calmed down, "eesh, is that how kids dance these days?"

"I've seen worse," Wendy added from the counter as she peeked into a magazine.

"Anyway, since my pain has reached a point of tolerance to my indomitable will," Grunkle Stan said around, "the opening date of the Mystery Manor is in two weeks. We need to begin construction of the exterior. We've got the space inside finally, now lets see what we can do about fixing the outside to look like its worth a buck or two," Grunkle Stan rubbed his hands together expectantly.

"Great, so what's the plan then?" Dipper asked.

"We spend as little money as we humanly can, while maxing out on curb appeal! So, I need a volunteer to go and grab supplies. And also food. Oh, and print out a fake building inspection safety license. We'll need those for later," Grunkle Stan added to himself.

"I can go get them," Soos raised his hand quickly.

"No Soos, I need your expertise in construction and destruction to get as much done with what little we have already. You're going nowhere," Stan said to his handyman.

"My job here, once again, is secure," Soos nodded happily.

"Wendy, how about you? Get into town and grab some stuff," Grunkle Stan told his other worker. She looked to him blankly, and shrugged un-enthusiastically. Stan clapped a hand onto his fez, astounded at her lack-luster reaction, "What? You're kidding me! You used to always want to bust out of this place!"

"Eh, not feeling it today," she told him in a flat tone and a turn of the page.

"Well that changes my perception of your laziness," Grunkle Stan taunted her, which she made no reply to, "okay. You two," he pointed to the twins, "get into town and grab stuff. Building material, like nails, but not too nice, okay? Then food- you know, that really processed stuff that lasts through a nuclear holocaust? All of them."

"The usual microwave meals," Dipper nodded.

"We can grab run-gurt! It's yogurt in a tube specially designed not to allow anything to come out unless you're running," Mabel said excitedly.

"Whatever. Here's fifty bucks for the food, and fifty bucks for the work stuff. Don't take forever, I want this place looking nice-ish sooner than never," Grunkle Stan said strongly, and he tossed the money to Dipper casually before turning back to the living room.

"Grunkle Stan, fifty bucks isn't going to get us much in line of... uh... building supplies," Dipper told his Gran Uncle worriedly.

"Look, I just need essentials. Nothing fancy- just get me the absolute, bottom of the bucket, bare minimum crud you can scrap off a house-depot floor you possibly can," Grunkle Stan told him as he disappeared, "same goes for the food!"

"Fine," Dipper turned for the door.

"Hey!" Mabel ran and caught up with her brother, "I'm going too."

"Sure," Dipper said as he stepped outside, "but anything you pick that we can't deem as house-hold oriented doesn't go onto this money, it goes onto yours."

"Psh. Fiiiine," Mabel said, skipping past him to her bike. Dipper approached his car, and started to check his pockets for his keys. "Dip!" Mabel called him, and he turned. She was giving him a incredulous glare. "Hop on!"

"...what?" he demanded, staring at the pink bike.

"It'd be a waste of gas for us to keep going back into town using both car and motorcycle," Mabel told her brother, "so, hop on!"

"Mabel, we're getting groceries, we need the car," Dipper reminded her with a single chuckle.

"Fine," she growled, getting off her precious ride. Dipper nodded and felt around for his keys. Only then did he realize his wallet and cell phone were upstairs. "Uh oh, did someone forget their keys?" Mabel teased, while dangling her own.

"Mabel, if I'm going on the bike, I at least want some form of protection. It will just take a second to get my keys," Dipper told her, and he turned for the door.

"Hey, you going on the bike?" Wendy asked suddenly as she popped out from the doorway.

"Yup!" Mabel smiled deviously at her brother, who looked between her and Wendy with uncertainty.

"Uh..."

"Well, one of you take this," she said, and tossed out with a solid underhanded swing to Dipper her own bike helmet, "play it safe, man."

"Uh, thanks, I guess," Dipper nodded to her with a truly faded smile, turning to face a gleaming Mabel, "we still should take the car. Just give me a few-" A loud, wood-splintering crash echoed from deep within the Manor.

"HEY! IS DIPPER STILL HERE!?" Stan shouted from within the building, "TELL HIM WE NEED STUFF FOR THE STAIRS! SOOS BROKE IT!"

"Hey, can you guys also bring some metal sealant?" Soos poked his head out from their room window, "I dropped my solid metal penguin statue down the stairs. Totally, like, shattered it too. Not the penguin, though, phew. Poor Lupe," Soos shook his head solemnly, "he's been through enough."

Dipper stared at the man above him, his mouth agape. The universe itself, once again, had conspired utterly against him and his efforts to play the game safe and responsibly. With a grimace, he turned back to his absolutely triumphant sister.

"You'll need these," Mabel grinned devilishly and handed him her pink sunglasses. Mabel slid on her own black sunglasses, enjoying every moment. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked, as he stared at the bike.

"N-nothing!" he stated, putting the helmet on, and regrettably putting on the very girly sunglasses.

"Waaaay too much swag," Mabel sneered as Dipper cautiously approached the bike, and tried hopping on. He was wobbly, and almost fell off. "Dude, just hold on," she told him while watching his struggles.

"To what!?" he demanded, "the wheels!?"

"Or me, it doesn't matter," she told him with a laugh, and turned on the bike, "but seriously dude, hold on."

Dipper lost his sense of dignity and hesitance as soon as the bike spun around. He very quickly wrapped his arms around his sister's torso, and held for dear life as she nearly back-wheeled out of the parking lot.

"Please, can you stay on the ground?!" Dipper called in the midst of the noise as they rode down the street.

"WHAAAT!? I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Mabel called aloud.

"I SAID CAN YOU STAY ON THE GROUND!?" Dipper tried again, screaming his best. Mabel looked back at him once and grinned, and Dipper's eyes widened in terror. "No, no, No, No, NO!"

Arriving at the joint food and construction depot, Dipper Pines left the bike a more traumatized individual than he could have ever expected. No less than five wheelies came about from his request for a calm ride, and he had screamed no less than five times to match. He was absolutely certain that death would have come for him at any of those moments. Stepping off the bike quickly his legs buckled and he quickly grasped a parking limit sign by the parking spot.

"Well, looky here," a voice called at Dipper. He turned and found an overweight and shorter cop with dark skin and full gray moustache pointing at Dipper, motioning to his comrade, a taller and pale man with a buzz-cut and large nose, "city boy here is having some trouble on anything less than four wheels."

"We should show him, huh Sheriff?" the deputy asked, nudging his partner on the shoulder.

"Let's do it," Sheriff Blugs told Deputy Durland impressively. They then quickly hopped onto Segways, and with a triumphant roar, the two blasted out of the parking lot at an astonishing thirteen miles an hour. They passed a field tractor by the road, and the farmer driving it cheered as they zoomed past.

"What a couple of roadsters!" the farmer cried aloud.

"Whoo!" Mabel said as she dismounted from the motorcycle, thrashing her head around to allow her hair to breathe, as she had a bad case of helmet hair, "you okay there, Dip?"

"I have yet to determine that," Dipper said weakly, trying his hardest to gain even footing, "I officially am going to get you back for this."

"Ohhh, I'm soo scared my knees are shaking. Oh, wait," Mabel sneered at her brother, "that's you! Bwahaha!"

Dipper quickly shoved her head out of the way grumpily, and Mabel gave a curt 'whomp,' but she still laughed. Walking inside the massive store, they instantly were surprised with strange mixture of smells; both the scent of cooking roast chickens and woodchips being sawn off on the other side of the building drifted around them.

"Well, the cruddy food is right there. Let's grab it all while we can," Dipper said deliberately, attempting to move away from his embarrassing entrance with his sister. He grabbed and started pushing a cart and began his search for the ultimate savings he could.

"Ohhh, Dipper," she called as they entirely skipped an isle of snacks and sweets, "let's grab some sugar-rolls!"

"No way, they cost a ton, and they only come in packages of eight. Grunkle Stan would totally hog all of them, or you would," Dipper scolded her, and she tossed them back over her shoulder.

"Pluh. Fine," she grumbled. "At least can we grab some super-ultra-highly-industrial sugar dots?" she pointed at a large cartridge of sugar.

"Ew, no," Dipper said, "they aren't even edible unless you boil them, I think."

"I could totally break them down with my awesome grinding teeth powers," Mabel threatened the cartridge.

"Mabel-"

"Okay, fine, Dippy-downer," Mabel rolled her eyes and followed suit.

Many more times Mabel would try to grab an unnecessary food item for her joy, and each time she was shot down by her brother as she tried placing them, or sneaking them, onto the cart. Her desire for sweet and delicious snacks barely swayed as they moved away from the cheap food items and towards the construction side of the massive building.

Finally Mabel began to calm down. As she walked with Dipper, she began to roam from displayed and semi-neat folded clothes to entire sale racks; staring at ridiculous skirts, jackets, and of course, sweaters. Dipper grew tired of her distractions, and Mabel eventually was infected by his defiance, and she gave into his forward attitude. She would be damned, however, if she would merely walk around with her brother in silence.

"So, bro-man," she tried after a moment of walking, "what have you been up to, anyway?"

"Huh?" he asked, uncertain if she was actually asking a sane question or not.

"What have you been up to?" she asked again, "I am communicating in a way the Dipper can comprehend, yes?"

"Yeah- uh, yes, you are," he said, counting away discount nails from a bin, "like, do you mean at school?"

"Sure! School, home, between, whatever," she explained excitedly, "I bet it's all super smart and boring," she hung at the front end of the cart, blocking Dipper's vision.

"It's not boring. I joined the math club, chess club, the puzzle league united, and the book club," he listed off, "and I'm thinking about making a paranormal mysteries club, but-"

"Jeesh, I wasn't wrong," Mabel laughed as she let herself roll into the cart, and fell gently onto the spare nails, "ow."

"Serves you right," Dipper said as she crawled out and back to her 'hanging-off-the-cart' position, "and I've been at the top in school grades for a bit. Gives me tutoring chances. That's paid work once I'm a junior," Dipper told her with a cocky smile. She stuck out her tongue to the side, displaying her disinterest in the subject. "Well fine then, miss 'excitement is my middle name'," Dipper called her out, "what have you been doing?"

"Martial arts!" she proclaimed with a burst of energy and volume.

"Really?" Dipper asked, genuinely surprised, "you started learning karate?"

"Not karate! I've discovered this really new, and super cool subject known as 'The Paths'. It's so new that it barely has a history behind it at all!" Mabel explained excitedly.

"Does that make you a martial-hipster?" Dipper asked her.

"Makes me awesome, is what it makes me," Mabel told him proudly, "I get to be part of living history!"

"You any good at it?" he asked her as casually as he could, trying to mask his immense curiosity that was growing inside him.

"I think so," Mabel shrugged, "my teacher seems to think so anyway."

"Wow. Well, that is pretty cool, gotta give it to ya," Dipper shook his head as he considered his impressive facts were all club memberships or leaderships. His sister could have been learning to break stone boards in half with her face, and here he thought being the undefeated junior chess master at school was bragging rights.

"Aww yeaaah," Mabel grabbed her shoulders casually, crossing her arms in a 'victory salute', "Mabel Pines: official badass."

"Okay, okay, enough stroking the ego," Dipper laughed and poked her nose, which caused her to flinch. She grinned at him after rubbing her insulted nose. He had lightened up, just for a moment; long enough for them to really enjoy their company. Looking to him with her own grin, she couldn't help but wonder the inevitable question for their departure.

"So," Mabel started, "when do you think we're heading back?"

"I told mom about two weeks," Dipper said easily as he looked at sealants for the roof, "about as much time I hope this crazy blue glowing stick thing mystery can be solved."

"Only two weeks?" Mabel repeated, deflated. Dipper looked towards her, her saddened tone not lost on his hearing.

"Mabel, it's a good amount of time," Dipper reminded her.

"That's like less than twenty days," Mabel told him sadly.

"It's exactly fourteen," Dipper sighed at her inaccurate estimation.

"Oh c'mon," Mabel groaned, "we can stay a bit longer than that, can't we? I mean... we just got here, you know?"

"I know," Dipper nodded as he selected the needed product and tossed it into the cart, "I get you, Mabel, I do. I... I don't really want to go either. But we have our own obligations. I've got my job that's going to help me towards college, and you've... well, you have your martial arts stuff you'll want to learn."

"Well, yeah... I guess you're right," Mabel shrugged and hopped off the cart to walk ahead. She gloomily looked down an aisle, hoping to find possibly bright colored 'something' to put her mind to ease. Down the large aisle though, she did spot something that piqued her interest.

A blue and white hat that matched Dipper's revealed itself before disappearing into an row. It wasn't the hat that truly befuddled her, but the appearance of the wearer. It was shorter than her, with curly brown hair. Mabel stepped away from Dipper and the cart, approaching the aisle.

"Mabel?" Dipper called to his sister as she walked away.

"Hold on," she held a hand up as she approached the row. Stepping inside, she found only a collection of winter shirts very out of season and several broken mannequins. She brought herself to the opposite end, scanning the other end for signs of movement.

"Mabel, what are you doing?" Dipper called her from the other end.

"I thought I saw a kid that looked just like you," she said with wonder, "wanted to let him know how adorable he looked."

"I didn't look adorable," Dipper defended himself.

"Okay, macho man," Mabel rolled her eyes and walked over to him. Her steps stopped as she looked to her side. A single mannequin stared blankly forward, and she glared back. "You got something to say, bub?" she growled with a throaty voice at the plastic creation, poking it in the eye once. It bobbled around, and collapsed to the floor, falling apart around Mabel. "Let's go," she stated nonchalantly.

"Good idea," Dipper agreed as they hurried off.

They left the depot store quickly enough, stopped at the photocopiers, and still got back to the Mystery Shack in good time. On the way back, Dipper had bag duty, which coupled horribly with his new fear of riding a motorcycle with Mabel. They nearly lost all the bags twice, due to Mabel trying to frighten her brother with risky swerves from the bike, and he nearly lost the bags each time in favor of balancing himself. Arriving to the Shack, they were met by Grunkle Stan and Soos, who were ready for construction.

"Wonderful. Soos, you and Dipper start fixing that darn roof to the best of our materials ability. I am not above you using tree sap to fix things," Grunkle Stan told Soos and Dipper.

"Sure thing, Mister Pines," Soos nodded, and happily nudged Dipper, "ladder's over here, I'll show you how this sort of thing works."

"And you," Grunkle Stan gave Mabel a look, "shove these away, will ya?" he said, plopping the bag into her arms as he turned and left for the living room. "And when you're done, slap a few of these around the sides of the building," he pointed to the copied safety certifications.

"Sorting time," Mabel began to hum an upbeat theme song from a T-V show she had seen once in her past. She walked past Wendy who was in her usual spot, feet up, face inside a magazine, happily reading whatever she could. "Rubber noodles in the cabinets," Mabel hummed aloud, and stuffed away each item of terrible nutrition.

"Mabel," Wendy called from the other room.

"Yo!" Mabel called back from the kitchen.

"Dude, how does Dipper handle being on the bike?"

"Oh my god Wendy," Mabel got up and walked into the other room, better to talk to her friend, "you should have seen his face! He was first kind of freaked out, but then- WAAHH!" she let out a terrified squeal in the same pitch as Dipper had on the ride to the depot. Wendy and her both started cracking up and laughing.

"Quiet the mockery!" Stan called from the living room, "I can't hear these scrubs being scammed on TV!" The two snickered and relaxed.

"You know, me and Soos were kinda bummed when you two started heading out yesterday," Wendy told a laugh-recovering Mabel, "this summer is going to be way cooler since you two are going to stick around."

"Whaaat? We aren't that cool," Mabel shrugged off the comment, lying on the floor at ease as she and Wendy talked.

"Cooler than a lot of people around here," Wendy admitted with a hint of sadness.

"But you have nice friends around here," Mabel pointed out. Wendy put her magazine down, better to talk.

"Yeah, not really much to do with my friends anymore, honestly," Wendy admitted.

"What? But you're awesome!" Mabel told her strongly. Wendy laughed.

"Think so, huh? Well... things got between us all one way or another. Like Robbie and me," her voice dropped considerably and her excitement fell as she recalled her ex-boyfriend.

"Oh, I forgot about Robbie," Mabel mused.

"Wish I could," Wendy stated with annoyance.

"How is he, then?" Mabel asked, an evil grin growing as she considered nasty plans against him, "we should strand him in the middle of the lake and see how long it takes for the Gobblewonker to show up."

"Like it would want to eat him. He's nothing but skin and bone," she reminded Mabel, who gagged while sticking out her tongue, "he actually left town, you know."

"Whaaat? He got over you?" Mabel asked with curiosity.

"Eh," Wendy seemed uncomfortable with the topic suddenly, rubbing the back of her neck, "sort of. I'm... not really sure I want to talk about it."

"Whoa, Wendy," Mabel stood and walked over to her, "that's like the first time I've ever seen you uncertain about... anything!"

"Yeah... change of topic, please?" Wendy asked with a plea.

"Yeah, of course! And what else to change topics, than with... SPARKLES!" Mabel reached into her pockets and launched into the air two handfuls of glitter, which flew everywhere in it's varying rainbow colors. "Let the colors touch your soul."

"You are the most prepared person for random needs I've ever met," Wendy informed Mabel.

"Glitter is more important than people realize," Mabel lectured, "it can turn projects of 'B' plus into an 'A' range any day! Also, I was going to throw them onto Dipper if he screamed too womanly, just to let him know his accomplishment," Mabel added. Wendy chuckled, and leaned back against her stool, and her feet were back up. Mabel stared at her older friend for a moment, and the idea for advice came to her. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Mmhmm," Wendy said off-handedly as she picked up her magazine.

"So... Dipper and me, we've... kinda become distant," Mabel said as she leaned on the counter, "and I think we can feel it. We're sort of... I think we're uncomfortable with each other now."

"Really? You two?" Wendy asked, peeking to the side from her magazine, "man, what happened? You two get into a big argument?"

"Uh... not us," Mabel looked around as she considered talking about her families status.

"Huh. Well, you know, when people get all 'weird' with one another," Wendy started aloud, "you got two things you can do. Tackle it directly, like a freaking bear," Wendy said aggressively, "or work it out slowly."

"I like tackling things, but I feel like that's not really helping in this one," Mabel grumbled. Wendy shrugged, and Mabel groaned as she turned and slid to sit against the counter, "but waiting for it to solve itself sounds worse."

"Dude, I didn't mean waiting around," Wendy looked to Mabel over her magazine, "it means you take small steps together until you both are okay with it."

"Oh."

"Yeah. If you two are just sitting around waiting for the problem to fix itself, it's either going to just sit there, or grow into something worse," Wendy said firmly, "take some initiative, girl. You're good at that."

"Thanks, Wendy," Mabel smiled as Wendy leaned back again and lazily began to read her magazine.

"No problemo, dude," Wendy said. Mabel stood up, dusting her hands of the glitter that covered the floor.

"Well, I'd better go get that-" Mabel started, but stalled as she saw something from the kitchen. It was the same fleeting image she had spotted earlier at the depot- a small figure with curly brown hair and blue and white hat. Without a second thought, she bolted to the kitchen. Coming to a halt as she slid atop the tiles, Mabel scanned around. The capped figure had been disappearing behind the wall that lead to the fridge. With a seconds hesitation, she reached out and pulled the door open.

"What..." she mumbled as she looked around. The fridge was large enough for someone to hide inside, but it was currently nearly empty. As she closed the door behind her, she began to wonder what she was seeing. Then she stepped on one of the rubber-noodle packs, which exploded around her in a mess. "Whoopsies," she sighed, and then grinned. She realized the noodles could also be thrown onto people in a celebrative manner should an occasion arise.

"You want to put this handy sealer before it's been nailed," Soos informed Dipper, who nodded strongly, "and after that, you just move onto the next one."

"Seems simple enough," Dipper said with confidence.

"Ah, do not allow the deceptively simple work here put your mind at ease," Soos said with a warning, "The trick is making sure you can do it, like, five hundred times."

"Five hundred times?" Dipper cried aloud, "is there really that many?"

"Eh, give or take twice that," Soos shrugged, "and then more when your Grunkle decides where to put the rest of the rooms."

"Rest of the rooms?" Dipper asked, starting on one tile quickly. "Grunkle Stan isn't done building yet?"

"Nope," Soos shook his head, looking at the roof tile he had started on, masterfully finishing it within moments to Dipper's shock, "the construction was delayed until the building's condition was deemed 'safe to live in'."

"... Mabel and I were living in the attic of a building that wasn't deemed safe to live?" Dipper asked.

"Uh, probably," Soos continued, "but there's always the chance that it wasn't until after you two left that it was considered unsafe."

"I suppose that's comforting," Dipper said, finishing his first tile as Soos finished his fifth, "so what other rooms is he finishing? I saw the new bathroom, and sort of a new storage place?"

"Oh, that's just for his convenience. You see over there?" Soos directed Dipper's attention with a jab of his glue-brush in the indicated direction, "those markings on the ground?"

"Yeah," Dipper nodded. In chalk outlines and several small orange flags, Dipper could see what could eventually become a least a dozen new rooms, and what appeared to be smaller room within each. "What're those supposed to be? Cages for animals?"

"Hmmm," Soos contemplated, "I actually think that's how Mister Pines put it. But no, they're going to be motel rooms."

"Motel ro- wait," Dipper turned fully to Soos, "you mean Grunkle Stan, the guy who hates dealing with customers that doesn't involve him getting their money, is inviting them to stay at his place? In an extension of his home?"

"Me and Wendy's idea, actually," Soos chuckled, "it was sort of a joke. We told him that he could make a lot more money if people stayed here, but he actually looked it up. If he called his place a 'haunted' or 'mysterious' motel, he could make nearly double what a standard motel makes."

"Oh... well, trust Grunkle Stan never to pass up a dollar if he can afford to," Dipper shrugged, comfortable in the idea that at least the motel would be completed after he left.

"You know. Smart businessman, isn't he-"

Dipper had stopped listening to Soos. He had gone to wipe his brow, as the summer sun was beating down on his head. In the turn of his head, he saw it again. A shadowy figure peering from behind a bush, looking directly at him. He nearly dropped his supplies as he turned and stared back. The creature remained put, but after a moment, it flashed bright red eyes.

"Soos!" Dipper called loudly, not daring to turn away from the animal below and across the parking lot, "Soos!"

"What is it? You having some trouble with the sealant can?" Soos asked, hardly turning to Dipper.

"No, look below!" Dipper pointed, and in the fraction of a second he turned to see Soos, the animal had once again gone. "Oh- what?! C'mon," Dipper growled, angered by the speed the creature departed.

"Ah yes, some of life's greatest wonders," Soos said, wandering over to Dipper to look the same bush, "is it true if you jump in a bush and land it, you'll be totally cool? Like in the movies? Ah, I really wanna try, but then I think, boy, that would suck if I missed, huh?"

It had been hours since Dipper and Soos had gone to the roof for maintenance. Mabel had retreated to her room since then, going through her notepad of bets she had made with her dad on things related to Dipper. So far she had crossed off on a double-digit list things like 'growing facial hair' and 'is part of clubs relating to intellect'. With a great wicked smile, one particular note remained uncrossed- 'doesn't scream like a girl'.

"Mabel!" Dipper called from the hallway outside, knocking loudly on the door.

"In here, nerd," she called back as Dipper entered the room, "enjoy the roof work?"

"Eh, Soos did most of it- wait, Mabel, I think I have a creature stalking me," Dipper told her as he entered. Mabel, who had been lying on the bed, shot up and looked to him with a serious stare. "You saw it too?"

"I keep seeing someone running around that looks like you," Mabel told him with energy, "like little baby you was still here, or something."

"Wait... baby me?" "Dipper repeated with confusion.

"Yeah, like... smaller," Mabel put a level hand closer to the floor to emphasize the smaller stature of the thing in topic. Dipper ran to his bed, lifted the pillow, and pulled the journal to himself.

"I was wondering since earlier today," Dipper said aloud," when I saw it looking at me from that window," Dipper pointed behind him as he sat on the floor, "what it could be. But Mabel," he looked to his sister, who sat down next to him, peering into the book, "if you're seeing someone who looks like me, we now have a credible suspect."

"The... shapeshifter," Mabel gasped in fear.

"No, thankfully," Dipper sighed in relief, "remember, we froze him back into the cryostasis pod."

"Oh. Who's dreaded suspect number two?"

"A doppelganger," Dipper flipped pages and came across a shimmering figure, one side a normal looking, happy man, the other a shadowy creature with illuminated eyes, "they stalk a target and eventually attack them, and then take their place," Dipper looked to his sister. To his disbelief, she was holding her hands to her mouth, trying to contain laughter. "What?"

"That is the silliest name I've heard yet," she managed, and then just burst out with a few short laughs, "okay, okay, I'm done. Wait," she added three more distinct barking laughs, "I'm good now. So, impersonating... does it say why?" Mabel asked.

"Uh... 'the cunning doppelganger has much to gain from impersonating others, such as stealing their property over time and hoarding it in a secret treasure trove, or just because it has a sad sense of humor'," Dipper read aloud.

"So he wants to replace you?" Mabel checked, "What should we do about him?"

"I don't like the idea of just waiting for him, but going to get it could be really dangerous," Dipper thought aloud, and scanned the page, "it says that 'directed bright light can reveal its true form, and prolonged exposure can cause it injury'."

"Dipper," Mabel told her brother seriously, "if this thing wants to grab you, we shouldn't wait for it- let's be proactive about this monster," she paraphrased from earlier, "and get it first!"

Dipper gave his sister a look. It wasn't like her to be interested in a mystery case so quickly, not without having an ulterior motive somewhere in the mission. Yet as he looked to her, no thought of other desires could reason her interest.

"Okay," Dipper nodded, "let's get some high powered flashlights and leave. We have a doppelganger to catch." Only then did Mabel smile with amusement. "What?"

"Since it's trying to get you, would it be called a... dipper-ganger?"

"Mabel, that's stupid."

"Heh heh. Dipper-ganger."

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