Opposites Attract [Dipper x Pacifica]

Chapter Nine - Leftovers, Definitely.

He's not bored.

No, seriously, he isn't. 

After all, he's a Gleeful. And he reveled in the aura of mystery and power that surrounded his very existence. Boredom was for those who lacked his capacity for intrigue and mischief.

To add to that, his sister had been bothering him more than usual, which meant he couldn't find the time to sneak into his bunker or visit the Shack. So he was stuck for the past week doing...nothing. I mean, of course, all he did was study the dark arts, note down his newest researches, find a rare flower for his sister's latest potion which had him hiking through a dense forest. But he was..

Wait, not bored. You misunderstood. He's not bored at all.

"I-is something the matter, Master?" the nervous one-eyed triangle utters after Mason heaves another sigh, the fourth one today. His typically focused mind had found itself idling far more than he would have preferred, his hands feeling restless for the first time in years.

His master stands by his window, observing the view painted behind it. The splash of colours blended into the sunset, the scattered trees with its leaves flittering in the wind, the fountain in the middle of their garden - greeting him everytime he had entered the gates. The same way it greets the blonde that stood there at that moment.

Pursing his lips, he turns back to his table and points to the triangle to-

Hold.

Mason had to stop himself from practically smashing his face into the window as he rushes back, doing a double take. Maybe it's a dye. Two blondes? Two blondes right? Is it that godforsaken maid again?

He watched as she fiddled nervously at her spot, clutching a small paperbag by its string. He couldn't make out what expression she wore but just by the way she held herself, he knew. His heart did a rather inconvenient somersault, and his posture stiffened in sheer surprise. He peered closer, his focus unwavering, his breath hitching ever so slightly.

"Northwest," he muttered under his breath, his eyes affixed to the sight that shouldn't have surprised him so much. He didn't know why he was taken off guard; she lived with Gideon Pines, his fool of a cousin. It was logical for her to be around, yet the appearance of Pacifica had an uncanny ability to disrupt his logical thinking.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

She's here?!

Panic, it was almost laughable how foreign that emotion was to him. But panic he did, his heart racing as he tried to ignore the rapid rhythm it had adopted. He willed himself to seem composed, despite the whirlwind of emotions that churned beneath his carefully maintained facade. Mason snaps his fingers and a small mirror pops up next to him. Did he look okay? No of course, he always looked perfect. He fixes his collar for good measure, anything to distract himself from the fact that she's at his mansion. 

Wait.
She's at his mansion. Where Mabel is.

FUC#!!£?£KCK?#?????2£+(#??

He swerves back to the window and watches her fidget with her feet, looking around. Good, buy time.

Alright, calm down Mason. Let's think this through, he rationalizes. He had placed a scent on Mabel's ankle, tacky and temporary, he knows, but anything permanent wouldn't have gone past his potion-obssessed sister. If he can trace the scent he would know if she's-

Nevermind, fuck it! That brat's about to ring the doorbell we need to stop her NOW.

"You never know if you never try," Pacifica muses, swallowing her nerves. She takes a deep breath and slowly raises her finger to press the doorbell to Gleeful Manor.