Chapter Text
Stan had a problem.
Ever since he and Jimmy had made themselves somewhat official, the biker had been glued to him; Behind closed doors, of course. He’d come into his room at night, after the kids were in bed, and clamber into his way-too-small mattress. Stan didn't mind the attention, even when they had to squeeze right on top of each other just to fit. He was just happy Jimmy was there. But this was seriously slowing down portal production.
Jimmy had always been a light sleeper. He would wake up no matter how silent he was, like when he would wake up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water. There was just no way he would be able to sneak past him, open the vending machine, work until the wee hours of the night, and slip back in. At least the kids slept in the attic, which was far away from the noise. His room was too close.
He needed to figure out a solution in the morning, he thought sleepily, wrapping his arm loosely around the other man.
~~~~~
“Mabel, could you get me a glass of water?” Dipper asked, checking off a list of supplies as he packed a bag. He was going to go on another adventure with Soos, something about finding an ‘Abominable Bro-Man’? Soos was very excited about it.
“Do you want some Mabel Juice? I made extra last night.” She chirped, hanging off the doorknob.
“Eugh, no. Mabel, that cannot be good for you.” He chided over his shoulder.
She hummed dismissively, and nearly tripped over a little red bag in front of the door, tied off with a neat little bow. There was a card on it, which she opened.
‘Thanks for the help’ it said, signed off with J. Snakes in neat script. When she delicately pulled off the ribbon, it was full of wrapped chocolates. She squealed in delight. She knew everything was going to turn off all right; the chocolates were an added bonus. There was no way she was sharing this, she thought.
“What’re you hiding?” She heard Dipper’s voice. Uh-oh. Busted. “You have to give me some.”
“Nuh-uh! It's mine!” she clutched the bag, “Jimmy got it for me!”
“Why would he give you candy?”
Thankfully, she had closed her fist around the card. “Maybe it's ‘cause I wasn't trying to expose him.” Dipper muttered something under his breath about it being necessary, but held out his hand. She did end up giving him… ⅜. What he did not know wouldn't hurt him.
Eventually, she did make it to the kitchen, pouring herself a heaping glass of Mabel Juice, coupled with a pink silly straw, before padding out to the gift shop. Robbie was talking to Wendy as she brushed her hair. Mabel rolled her eyes and turned to go to the living room. Maybe there would be something good to watch on TV.
She nearly ran into Jimmy, pausing to make sure none of her drink spilled over the sides of her cup. He apologized quickly, slipping past her into the Gift Shop. There was a loud gasp behind her.
Robbie leaned over the counter, whispering something in Wendy’s ear frantically. She nodded, “He’s Stan’s friend, Jimmy. He's staying at the Shack for a while.”
The man jerked his head in acknowledgement, holding out his hand. “Snakes. Jimmy Snakes.”
“That’s Mr. Snakes to you, kid!” Stan shouted from the living room.
Robbie shook his hand, stars in his eyes as he whispered an awestruck ‘cool’.
Stan walked in after, already in his classic Mr. Mystery suit, scarfing down a bowl of cereal. “Anyway, don't worry about paying me back.” he said, clearly continuing a conversation he was having with Jimmy, “As long as you can do a few things for me, consider us even.”
“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel interrupted, toying with her straw. “Can I do your nails? Dipper doesn't like doing them, so I have to find someone else.”
“I have old man hands, sweetie. It wouldn't look good no matter what you do.”
“C’mon, Grunkle Stan. Nails are for everyone!”
“Actually, you might be onto something. If they look good on Jimmy, I'll do it, too.” when he looked at him with a no-doubt shocked expression under his glasses, Stan shrugged, “consider it earning your keep.”
Mabel's eyes wandered down to Jimmy’s hands, which were gloveless for the first time in awhile. Though they were aged, they were firm along the palms from strenuous use. Particularly, she stared at his nails, which were rectangular, and oval shaped along the bottom. Perfect for press-ons, she mused.
“Fine,” He sighed, holding out his hand for her to appraise, “But it has to match. And nothing longer than the nail. It'll affect my work.”
Darn it, she thought, inspecting them closely. This is still plenty for me to work with. She dragged him to the living room, instructing him to sit down on the floor. The remote was tossed at him. “Alright, wait here. I need to get my supplies. Also, do you want some Mabel Juice?”
“What's Mabel Juice?” He asked, getting her glass shoved in his face. The sheer amount of glitter and plastic dinosaurs (?) made his stomach twist. “Is that safe to drink? For humans, I mean?”
“Sure it is. I drink a glass everyday!” She knocked back the final dregs.
Maybe that's why she's like that, Jimmy wondered, though not unkindly. “I’ll pass…”
Now very hyper, Mabel was back downstairs with a glittery box in no time. The lid, when unclasped, had several trays that folded outwards, revealing a vast array of charms, nail polish, nail glue, clippers, and nail files. She selected a few shades of red and black and spread them in front of him. “Which ones do you like?”
Jimmy seriously couldn't tell them apart. “What's the difference?”
Mabel shook her head, and plucked out a few. “Don't worry about it. Choose a channel.”
He handed it back to her, “You choose. I’m not much of a Cable guy.”
She turned on Duck-tective, placing it away and safely to the side as she began to trim them. Jimmy's head fell to his hand, eyes sliding shut at times as he tried to get interested. What on earth was this show? The mystery element wasn't even that good. And the dialogue was just plain stupid. Was Stan seriously binging this for hours on end? He was a bit worried about him.
Dipper walked by them, doing a double take at the strange scene in front of him. There was a grizzled looking biker sitting on the carpet, hand braced on a pillow as his sister carefully trimmed them. He was watching Duck-tective on the TV, the scenes reflected in his shades. “What are you guys doing?”
“My nails.” Jimmy replied, as if it were something that happened everyday.
“Um… okay.” Dipper trailed off, walking away and out of the Shack.
After an hour or two, and many layers later, his nails were done. He held them out, palm facing away as he gave them a once over. They actually looked pretty good, he thought. His nails were well trimmed and smooth along the edges. The coats of paint were smooth and matte. They matched his jacket and bandana perfectly. “I'm impressed, Mabel. These look great.”
“Really? Thank you so much! Now Grunkle Stan will have to get his done as well!”
“I’ll have to do what?” he leaned in.
“Jimmy's hands. Don't they look nice?” She held them up, and Jimmy played along, tilting his head dramatically.
Stan laughed, but leaned closer. He whistled approvingly, “Wow, pumpkin. This is really good.”
“Your turn~” She teased, making grabby hands.
“Yeesh, calm your jets. I'll do it when everyone's gone. I'm not getting nail polish on this suit.”
Mabel flopped despairingly on the ground, “this world is too cruel.” A moment later, she sprang up, “Can I do your hair, too?”
“...Sure, why not? Have at it.”
And that's how Jimmy ended up with 5 braids, each branching off a different part of his head. Mabel had painstakingly fought every tangle, brushed it off, twisted and tied it off with (matching!) silver charms at the end. She even tied his bandana off with a bow rather than the usual knot he used.
Dipper had also come back, gushing about his findings to no one in particular as he scribbled in the journal. When Mabel called him in, he entered the room begrudgingly, still writing as he gave a dull ‘what?’ His eyes widened when he saw her “makeover”.
“Wow. You look… great.” He bit his lip, clearly stifling a laugh as he turned around. “The nails are a nice touch, though.”
“Thanks.” Jimmy replied, flicking his braids with emphasis.
Mabel had somehow roped him into watching the rest of the season with her. His brain felt like mush afterwards. And he still had a job to complete. Maybe some of that Mabel Juice would do him good. Stan had been forced to do his nails, but only if his red could match Jimmy, which earned a playful groan from him.
And if for the next few weeks, if the tourists of Gravity Falls saw the infamous Mr. Mystery with red and gold nails, they didn't say anything… if they were polite. If they weren't, well, they had a goat that ate license plates, anyway.