Pooling Their Assets

BY : Nastyzak
Category: +G through L > Gravity Falls
Dragon prints: 797
Disclaimer: Fandom is Gravity Falls. I don't own the characters or the show, and I don't get paid for writing.

“Ech!” Pacifica said, making a disgusted face. “Why do you always have to dress so butch?”

“Butch?” Mabel asked. “Wha-a-at? This is a sweater I knitted myself! These are designer jeans! These are top-of-the-middle-line sneakers! What’s butch about that?”

“Puh-lease!” Pacifica said. “Your sweater’s green, and you embroidered “TOMBOY” on it in pink letters that look like breasts with penises. And it's all baggy and makes you look so flat-chested! And those are guy’s jeans. You used to be so—so girly when you were little!”

“Just ‘cause I like girls doesn’t mean I’m not one!” Mabel said. They sat on a bench in the park near the water tower. The day before Mabel had returned to Gravity Falls from her last year of college. She was staying with Dipper, who had sort of inherited the Mystery Shack from Stanley and Stanford. They weren’t dead, but Stanford now had a position with a major university, and Stanley tagged along with him to Palo Alto.

Anyway, Dipper more or less owned the Mystery Shack, Soos, Melody, and their kids ran the place, and Dipper occupied his time with writing books about the paranormal and making love to his fiancée, Wendy. Mabel had moved into what once had been Stanford’s room, where the kids had encountered the Electron Carpet. It wasn’t there any longer.

Anyway, Mabel had called Pacifica and they’d had lunch together and now were just hanging out.

Mabel, who’d graduated from her braces, still looked girly, in her opinion, except maybe for the way she dressed. “It makes me nervous just to be around you these days,” Pacifica complained. “People might think we were, you know.”

“Together?” Mabel asked with a goofy grin. “Like besties? Like a she-she couple? Like lovers, hmmmm?”

“Stop it!” Pacifica snapped.

Mabel shrugged. “You might try playing on the girls’ team. You might like it, you know!”

“Ugh. I prefer men.”

Mabel looked her in the eyes. “Really? Are you engaged?”

“No!” Pacifica snapped. “Stop getting so personal!”

“OK, so do you have a steady guy?”

Pacifica hesitated. “Yes.”

“Ooh! Dish! What’s his name?”

“His name’s Rodney,” Pacifica said. Then she quickly added, “You don’t know him. He lives in Portland. His dad owns a bank. He’s very handsome.”

“Then why doesn’t he put a ring on your finger?”

“He—he’s learning the business! When his father gives him a permanent position, we’ll make that decision!”

“What investment company does his dad own?”

“Pacific and Atlantic Investing!” Pacifica said in an angry voice. And then she turned a little pale.

“Uh-huh,” Mabel said. “But that’s not a bank, is it?”

Pacifica looked confused. “Uh, it’s—same thing.”

“No, a bank and an investment company are different. You made up the bank. Did you just make Rodney up too?”

Pacifica wouldn’t meet her gaze. “What if I did? All right, I’m not seeing anybody right now. Happy?”

“Not if you’re unhappy,” Mabel said. She lowered her voice and moved a little closer on the bench. “No one’s around. Just that bunch way over there throwing a Frisbee. Nobody’s listening to us, Pacifica. You can tell me everything. I don’t think you’ve ever even been with any guy, have you?”

“What makes you say that?” Pacifica mumbled.

“Gaydar, I guess. How long have we known each other now?”

“Ten years.”

“Ten? Can’t be! Let’s see, the summer Mom and Dad first sent us to Gravity Falls, I was . . . twelve. Eight years last month! We met on June 15, 2012, when you beat me in the contest for the crown at the party in the Shack. Remember?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Pacifica said.

“Okay, eight years I’ve known you. And for the last three, I’ve been telling you to come out of that closet.”

“I am not a lesbian!” Pacifica snapped.

Mabel made a farting sound with her tongue and lips. “Girl, you are so far in the closet, you’re behind last year’s prom dresses! Okay, okay, maybe you’re not full-tilt lesbian, but I’ll bet you anything you’re at least bisexual. Deep down.”

“Oh shut up!”

“Come on Pacifica, not judging here. Tell me, how many guys have you really done it with?”

“None. Of. Your. Business.”

“Okay, let’s trade information. I can tell you my history. Three guys. And it was all right, but no fireworks, until I tried it with a girl, and then it was ‘Sweet Sally, I’ve been doing it wrong!’ There’s still cute guys I’d do it with, but give me a girl and I’m happy. So there’s my story. Tell me the truth, Pacifica, how many boys have you really fucked?”

“If I said ‘none,’ would you shut up?” Pacifica growled.

Mabel grinned as Pacifica’s face turned all red. “Yeah, yeah, I know what you do. ‘Ew, put that nasty thing back in your pants! It’s not going inside me! No I will not take it in my mouth, you degenerate!’ How many times have you said that, huh?”

Pacifica said, “You’re so—so nasty! Mabel, why can’t you be more like your brother?”

Giggling, Mabel said, “I can, I can! Give me a chance. When you have your orgasm, you can even call me Dipper when you scream!”

“Sometimes I wish you two had never moved back to town,” grumbled Pacifica. “You can be so gross.”

“You’re still jealous of Wendy,” Mabel said. “Let her and my brobro be happy. Ever since Dip took over the Mystery Shack and she moved in, you’ve been so bee-eye-aye-tee-cee-aitch-wye!”

“I don’t care anything about that stupid lumberjill and your dorky brother!” said Pacifica.

“Yeah, you do. I can tell.”

“Hmph.” But after a few minutes, Pacifica asked, “Are they engaged or—whatever?”

“Lot of whatever,” Mabel said. “Betcha they’ll get married sooner or later, though. Man, do they whatever. They whatever all the time! See, I sleep in the room under theirs, and you should hear Wendy at night—‘Oh! Oh! Oh! Right there! Harder! Faster! Oh, my God!’ And then Dipper screams, ‘I love your pussy!’ Hah! Sometimes I finger myself off just hearing ‘em!”

Pacifica grumbled, “Why don’t you try to have sex with Wendy, if she’s so great?”

“Who says we haven’t had sex?” Mabel asked, raising her eyebrow. “What Dipper doesn’t know won’t hurt him!”

“That’s disgusting,” Pacifica said. But then, as if hating her own curiosity, she asked, “Do you . . . ever . . . join in? With, uh, them?”

“I don’t think Dipper could measure up to a threesome,” Mabel said thoughtfully. “He’s got this thing about incest, the same way you can’t stand to talk about making love with girls.”

“You’re right, I can’t. Let’s talk about something else,” Pacifica said.

But for some minutes they just sat there. And then Mabel asked, brightly, “Do you still love parties?”

“If they’re fun,” Pacifica said.

“Duh,” replied Mabel, grinning. “Tell you what. I’ll organize a party for one evening next week. You’re first to be invited! Oh, let’s make it a swim party! I’ll invite Candy and Wendy and Dipper, and, uh—Tiffany! Is she still in town?”

Tiffany was one of Pacifica’s friends from the time when they were schoolmates at a fancy private school—before the Northwests had lost most of their fortune. “Yes, I see her from time to time,” Pacifica said. “She’s been engaged like three times and broke it off every time.”

“What’s the problem?”

“She has a habit of liking guys who don’t have enough money to make her folks happy.”

“Well, get me her number. And let’s brainstorm a party list! It’ll be a ‘Welcome Back Mabel’ party!”

“And where are you going to have this? At the old swimming hole?” asked Pacifica sarcastically. “I know the Mystery Hovel doesn’t have a pool.”

“Oh, I’ll find a pool,” Mabel said. “Not just a pond in the woods, I promise. If I can swing it, will you come?”

“I suppose so. It’s boring in town right now.”

“Great!” Mabel said. “I’ll be in touch!”

That evening Dipper and Wendy went out for dinner. Mabel took advantage of their absence by hauling a small stepladder up to the attic. She climbed on it and could reach the ceiling beams. One of them had an irregular splotch of mold on it—still the same color, shape, and size after nearly a decade.

Mabel patted it. “Hi, Darrrel!” she said. “Have you kept my secret safe after all these years?”

She carefully swept her hand along the dusty top of the beam and something tattled. “Aha! You have, you beautiful moldy old fungus, you! Thanks!”

She stretched up and took the stuff down from its hiding place.

That was the beginning of her plan.

Next called for some strategy. She had to take over the public pool.



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