Gravity Rises (S1)

DRB: Part Four

Dipper headed down the small, snow-covered street that led to Pacifica's house. He held a small bouquet of flowers in one hand; he guarded the fragile petals from the gentle wind with the other. Melody had given him directions — and bought him the flowers — and sent him on his way. At least someone wanted to help him with his mission to befriend Pacifica: Mabel had flatly refused to join him. She seemed really unsettled by the psychic show. But it was clearly fake: Dipper had caught glimpses of the microphone in Pacifica's ear. Besides, the real Pacifica would probably be even better than the one that he saw onstage last night.

When he got to the Pleasure house, the trailer in the driveway gave him pause. The logo for the Tent of Telepathy was painted on the side. . . so was Pacifica in there, or in the house? Since the trailer was closer, Dipper went there first. He paused in front of the door and glanced down at his flowers. Would she think he was cheesy? He hadn't even thought of flowers, but Melody had suggested them. Pacifica seemed like the type of girl who would appreciate them; Dipper just had to hope that was the case.

He knocked on the door.

~~~~~

Pacifica paused in the application of her eye make-up and frowned toward the door. Who could that be? She finished her make-up — no point in looking anything less than her best, no matter who was waiting for her — and went to answer.

The boy from last night stood at her door.

"Well, hello there," she said politely, recovering quickly from her surprise. What was he doing here? His presence put her immediately on guard, though he didn't look dangerous.

"Hi," he said with a grin. "I'm Dipper. I saw your show last night, and I wanted to give these to you." He held out a bouquet of flowers. "To tell you how good it was."

She paused, then took the flowers. "Thank you," she said. "This is a lovely surprise. I was just getting ready for my next show."

"In the middle of the day?"

She nodded. "I've been gone for a year; everyone wants to come see me now that I'm back." After a moment of hesitation, she said, "Why don't you come inside?"

Perhaps it was a bad idea to invite him inside, since she couldn't peek into his head and see his motivations. But his smile when he looked at her was full of nothing but admiration. Surely he had no bad intentions. Besides, this was the perfect opportunity to figure out why he'd been unreadable the night before.

"So, Dipper, was it?" she asked once he was inside. "I have to say, I haven't seen you around town before."

"My sister and I are visiting our uncle. Stanford Pines — he owns the Mystery Museum."

Pacifica nodded pensively. "I noticed you and your sister in my show last night. What's her name?"

"Mabel," he said. "I don't know if she liked the show that much. . . but I did," he added with a grin. "What's it like, performing like that?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Dipper shrugged. "How do you come up with your routine? I saw the microphone, but it still felt real to me. You were awesome."

Pacifica bristled; her hand went up to her amulet. Then she calmed herself: Of course he thought it was fake. Even her stagehands thought it was fake. She made a mental note to mention to someone that the microphone was visible. Then she shrugged lightly and said, "A psychic never reveals her secrets."

"I thought it was 'a magician'."

Pacifica gave a small smile. "It applies to psychics too." She glanced to a nearby clock. "You know," she said, "I still have a bit of time before I have to go. Why don't you stay for a bit?"

"Sure," Dipper said. "I can walk you to the Tent, too," he offered.

Oh, why not? If he tried anything, she could defend herself with her amulet. Even Gideon was susceptible to her physical magic, if she caught him while he wasn't looking. Surely this Dipper would be too.

With this thought, a hopeful idea appeared in Pacifica's head. Maybe Dipper wasn't insusceptible to anything. Maybe whatever happened last night was just a fluke. As Dipper sat on Pacifica's small couch, she activated her amulet at a low level.

The world turned grey, and no purple smoke appeared around Dipper. Not even one tendril.

What on earth was going on?

She forced herself to talk with Dipper as he asked her more questions and told her more about himself. In her mind, though, she was slightly panicked. There was only one other person she'd ever met whose mind she couldn't access — Gideon Northwest — and she thought she knew why. This boy, though, this Dipper. . . He was entirely new. He and his sister were somehow immune to Pacifica's magic, and she had to know why.

She had to know why, but she was afraid of the answer. In the back of her mind, she worried that it was her amulet's fault. Its powers had been restored when she'd returned home, but. . . what if they hadn't been completely restored? What if the amulet was struggling to pull up the minds of an entire crowd all at once?

But, if that were the case, why would it only fail to work on two children?

By the time she had to leave, she was no closer to finding an answer. She could barely remember what she and Dipper had talked about; she had run on autopilot, and she just had to trust that she hadn't broken character as the mystical psychic.

"Which way are you headed?" she asked Dipper as they stepped down from her trailer.

He shrugged. "The Museum is that way." He pointed down the road. "I'll walk with you, though, if you want."

"You're sweet," Pacifica said, "but the Tent of Telepathy is in the other direction. I wouldn't want to take you so far out of your way."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "Thank you for the visit. And the flowers." She smiled at him; to her surprise, the smile was almost genuine. He really was sweet.

"Of course. It was great talking to you," he said. "Is there another time we can hang out?"

The question gave her pause. Did she want to spend more time with him? Yes, she decided. If only to keep tabs on him. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? Pacifica wasn't sure which category Dipper fell into; but either way, she wanted him close.

"How about tomorrow afternoon?" she said. "I have a show at one, and I could show you around backstage afterwards."

"Sweet!"

What am I doing? Pacifica asked herself as she smiled widely at him. If he was her enemy, then taking him backstage was a terrible idea. But, well, he already knew the show was fake (or, at least, he knew that it seemed fake). Pacifica didn't think he had any idea about her amulet; if he did, she would make sure to keep it away from him.

Pacifica and Dipper parted, and she headed for the Tent of Telepathy. Usually, she'd get her dad to drive her; but she didn't want to be with anyone right now. She wanted to think.

Where could she start looking to figure out why Dipper and — what was the twin's name — Mabel were immune to her mind powers? Dipper seemed oblivious to it all, but Pacifica thought she saw a devious look in Mabel's eyes when she met her during intermission the night before. Was it simply Pacifica's amulet causing the problem? Was it the twins?

She should probably contact Gideon. He was the only person she couldn't read; and, reciprocally, she was the only person he couldn't read. They both assumed it was because both of them had near-identical amulets, but now. . . Well, maybe he knew something that Pacifica didn't.

A slight grimace marred Pacifica's face. She didn't want to contact Gideon. He was supposed to contact her, now that she was back from Portland. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, if you asked Pacifica. Besides, she didn't want to seek out Gideon after a year of separation just to ask him for help. How weak was that?

No, she decided. She wouldn't go to Gideon. She could figure this out by herself.

Whatever this was in the first place.