The Buddy System

Observance

On his own once more, Dipper sighed and reentered the room. Strolling next to his snoozing wife, sister, best friend...his everything, he took the moment to study her face. As he had observed earlier, it was almost completed untouched: every freckle, every curve, every inch of her flawless complexion pristine, as if nary a misfortune had befallen her between breakfast and the afternoon nap she was partaking in.

It was a visage that had always made him weak in his knees, even before he knew the power behind the feeing deep within him, in the years prior to the full onset of puberty. Every element was utter perfection: brown eyes that made his heart ache with passion, cheeks he adored when the air was chilly enough to color them rosy, and a pair of lips that always — without fail — sent a bolt of electricity down his spine when they met his. Truly, he was helplessly smitten for her, afflicted with an incurable case of puppy love.

Seeing her there, it reminded him of the deep regret he felt over not granting her their usual morning kiss when they parted ways for their occupations that morning. The pit in his stomach, while less nagging than it had been earlier, was still present and he felt as though a quick peck on her cheek would likely help to wash away the pang of guilt. Unsure of how the medical staff would look upon someone smooching an patient who was out cold, Dipper looked out the door for a full ten seconds, hoping to ensure the coast would remain clear.

Feeling that to be the case, Dipper rested his hands on the arm rail and leaned in close. He was immediately hit by her scent, one that he could identify in an instant, one he found great comfort and solace in. The concoction was a blend of her herbal conditioner, lavender-scented antiperspirant, and the strawberry-scented lip gloss she would rarely leave the home without. The ingredients combined into a bouquet that was playful, sweet, and innocent; in a word: Mabel.

Watching the steady rise and fall of her chest as she slept, he yearned to climb in and snuggle up with his angel. Closer inspection of the wires that linked her to the machinery that surrounded the bed, as well as the numerous bandages that were securely hidden beneath the blankets, forced him to reconsider his desires and instead settle for the initially planned kiss on her right cheek.

Inhaling once more, and unable to wait any longer, he leaned in and placed a gentle peck on her flesh, letting it linger for a moment before imperceptibly breaking contact, providing the opportunity for a quick follow-up. However, the opportunity to do so was quickly taken off the table upon a sharp rapping of knuckle-on-metal, the sound of which launched Dipper upright with a start and forced a rush of blood to fill his cheeks.

"Uh...am I interrupting anything?" the visitor asked with an awkward laugh while standing in the doorway.

Through the shifting light patterns, Dipper recognized the officer's uniform and felt the flushing immediately retreat, taking the amount that had been there beforehand with it. His stomach began to churn and a cold sweat broke out along his back. With a rapidly accelerating heartbeat and a mind leaping into 'fight or flight' mode, the middle-aged engineer began flipping through all the horrifying reasons for why the policeman had decided to stop by unannounced.

'Does he know about Mabel and me? Has he figured out we've been faking our identities for years now? Is he going to try and take the kids? Oh fuck...'

"Mister Collins, right? I'm...I'm here about the collision," the cop explained, likely spurred by the deer-in-the-headlights look on Dipper's mug. "I'm Officer Jackson with the Bothell PD."

"Oh..." Dipper replied, putting a hand to his chest, and swallowing hard to fight back against his dry throat, "yeah. Sorry, I...uh..."

"Not gonna arrest you for kissing your wife, if that's your worry," the officer assured through a smile.