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“Tell me again why we're doing this?” Stan asked as he watched the chaos unfold in front of them.
Rick rolled his eyes at Stan before taking a swig from his flask and burping. “Oh gee, Lee, I don't know... be-because you let that she-devil of a great niece play you for a, for a sap?”
They watched as Beth drank wine with Ford while Ford was writing in a new journal, with new discoveries, and unintentionally ignoring Beth as she rambled on about something. Jerry was trying to network - they didn't know why since his ads were all awful - with Soos, the new owner of the Mystery Shack. Soos was polite as a Soos could be but his attention kept diverting back to his wife, Melody, who was heavily pregnant and he was an extremely attentive husband. They were expecting a little boy that they were going to name Stanley. Stan did not cry when he was told. Allergy season. And onions.
The kids seemed to be having the most fun, of which was the most destructive, except Summer, who was out with some of the local teens until about supper time. Morty took an instant liking to the twins, Dipper for being cautious and Mabel for being so sweet and kind. Mabel had created a sticker launcher, blasting out stickers, streamers, and glitter. She was now hunting the two boys, chasing them through the Shack and around the outside. Elton John would be ashamed he wasn't as fabulous as the Shack was now. Waddles had on a banner, a large sticker reading ‘PIG O’ WAR’ slapped on it. They had no idea where she found some of her stickers.
Stan snatched the flask from Rick's hand, taking a few deep gulps before it was swiped back, a pointed glare sent his way. “I-I said I'd share the rest of my, rest of my life with your old a-- butt; not my booze.” Rick censored himself, the narrow-eyed look he received held threats he didn't feel like dealing with.
“Aww c’mon, sugar,” Stan batted his eyes in Rick's direction as he said the endearment with sugary sweet sarcasm, “What's yours is mine and all that bull.”
“I have like-like ten different doomsday devices around the Shack. Don't ma-make me uuuughse them,” Rick said, flatly.
“But, muffin bear, you looo-- Ow! Watch it!” Stan yelped in pain as Rick pinched and twisted his ear, making him lift up in his seat to try to alleviate the pain.
“I w-warned you, Lee,” Rick said as he let go after a few moments.
Stan grumbled, a hand sullenly rubbing his reddened ear, and got up from his spot at the table, walking to the kitchen. It was a few minutes later that he reemerged, a cocky grin on his face, Mabel following behind, looking giddy with her sticker launcher.
“Doesn't Grunkle Rick need a..." Stan paused for effect. "...Mabel-label?"
Mabel squealed in delight and aimed her launcher at the lanky inventor.
“Oh no, y-you better no--” Rick couldn't get out his warning before the launcher’s trigger was pulled.
A silence settled over the Shack. Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at Rick. Even Dipper and Morty, who had just been trying to sneak upstairs to avoid any more of their own Mabel-izing stopped. Morty looked the most nervous, knowing what Rick could do to the sweet, albeit overbearing girl.
Rick was covered in glitter, even the air around him twinkled with the reflective specks. Colorful streamers hung off his spiky hair and shoulders. A few stickers clung to him, one that said ‘GRRLZ RULE’ stuck to his forehead. He blinked, processing what had happened, before standing up.
“Oh, you two are so going to get it.”
“Run, sweetie, run!” Stan yelled as he dashed back through the kitchen with Mabel hot on his heels.
“Mabel strikes again!” she shouted as she fled.
Rick ran after them, streamers and glitter falling in a fabulous sparkling shower behind him. The Smith family sans Summer made their way anxiously to watch from the window, observing Rick chasing down the two cackling Pines, but with no malevolent intent. He had whipped out a gun that resembled a water gun, except it was equipped with a rather large, scientifically-improved reservoir.
Seeing that there was no immediate danger, Morty and Dipper gathered up two armloads of Super Soakers. They ran outside, tossing two each to the already soaked duo and turned the tables on Rick, drenching him as he ran away from the four.
By the time all five came back in, they were soaked and tired. Most of the glitter had been washed off of Rick, Morty, and Dipper. Though, Rick still had that sticker stuck to his forehead, now with wet dripping locks covering it.
The rest of the family either laughed as they walked in or smiled fondly, all happy that they were able to get along, in some way. Even Beth and Jerry hadn't fought once since arriving at Gravity Falls. Ford had spent much more time out of the lab than he had when he came back to this dimension last summer, even if he still buried himself in recording his new discoveries from his and Stan’s trip. This summer was a lot less apocalyptic than the last, which all the Pines and the entirety of Gravity Falls residents were grateful for.
The five went upstairs to dry off and get dressed in clean, dry clothes before coming back downstairs. Dinner was done, thanks to Fiddleford, whom cooked a huge spread of southern style goodness.
The tiny table that was in the kitchen wasn't big enough for everyone so they had put together a few picnic tables out back, letting everyone have a place.
On one side was: Melody, Soos, Dipper, Morty, Mabel, and the newly arrived Summer. The other side was: Fiddleford, Ford, Stan, Rick, Beth, and Jerry. The arrangement had been strategically planned to make dining a little easier.
There were jokes, laughs, barbs and jabs, most of them good natured. Stan had to cut Rick off a few times when he was about to cuss in front of his grand niblings, followed by a swift kick to the leg. It was a surprisingly pleasant, domestic evening. Neither of the two crotchety old men ever saw that being in their cards, nor spending this disgustingly sweet and normal evening with each other, with their families, together. They knew best that life never worked out the way you really want it to, that you get dealt crappy hands, but sometimes, sometimes you got lucky.
They reached for each other's hand under the table, giving a soft squeeze, showing more affection towards each other than they would when others were present unless to mess with them. Their respective pasts still haunted them, their regrets and mistakes still ate away at them, but they had each other. They had their families.
They had gotten lucky, finally, and were happy.