Camo, Dipper, and Mabel were waiting for their snacks to come out of the vending machine. "Candy! Candy! Candy!" they chanted, but the Yumber Jacks got stuck. They all wore very similar expressions of horror or disappointment.

"No!" Dipper said. "It's trapped!"

"Everything is terrible forever!" Mabel sobbed.

"Say good-bye to happiness . . ." Camo murmured.

Soos motioned to them. "Hey dudes. You want to know a trick?" Camo earnestly nodded. With a couple sound effects and some drumming on the side, the handyman opened up the vending machine. Her eyes widened to the size of plates, and she could practically see the sparkles in her own eyes. "A genius taught me that once."

He emerged with a lot of candy. "This just in. Weather stations are calling for a candy blizzard!" He dropped candy on them, and while the twins were looking shocked, she eagerly scooped up as much as she could.

"Forget taking off the wrappers!" Mabel shouted. "I'm eating these now!" She proceeded to shove them in her mouth without taking off the wrappers and she walked away.

"Soos, you are the greatest human ever to live," Dipper said.

Camo, sitting on the floor and eating candy, though she did remove the wrappers, munched and said, "I second that."

Meanwhile, Mabel was coughing, choking, sputtering, and talking about how "That was a mistake!"

"Hey, no sweat, dude," Soos said, getting some change from his wallet. "I'd do anything for the Pines family."

"Soos!" Stan called. "I need to scratch myself in two places at once!"

He looked down seriously and said, "And I mean anything. Coming, Mr. Pines!"

Mabel was shoving candy wrappers out of her stomach. Dipper looked up and noticed Soos's wallet was left on the table. "Whoa, better make sure he gets his wallet back."

"Wait, I've never seen Soos's wallet before. Don't you want to learn some Soos secrets?"

"Nope," Camo deadpanned. She shoved the leftover candy that wasn't covered in Mabel's saliva on the floor and got to her feet. "While you guys snoop, I'm going to go to Jason's. We're hanging out today."

"Bye! I'll tell you if you find anything!"

"Please don't! I'm not affiliated with you!"

Camo found herself wondering why Dipper and Mabel still hadn't interrogated her on her confession on being from the future. Had they forgotten, or was something else going on? Dipper never ignored stuff like that, unless maybe he forgot. She decided to go with that theory.

"Hey, Jason," she said cheerfully when he opened the door. "You ready?"

He nodded and smiled slightly. "Yeah." She walked past him into his house, which she'd gotten accustomed to. The walls and furniture were mostly neutral colors, gray and brown, but that hardly mattered due to the sheer amount of colorful fabric covering everything. Half-made dresses and various other pieces of clothing were carefully placed over the backs of chairs. Fabrics were splayed on the tables, neatly sorted by color combinations. A couple cutting patterns were on the ground, having fallen in the ruckus of moving around.

Overall, it had the look of orderly chaos, if that made any sense whatsoever. Everything had its own place, everything was in its own place, but the places didn't make any sense to anyone except Jason and his father. Speaking of his father, the man was sitting on the couch, hand-stitching one of his outfits and watching the TV. He looked up. "Oh, hello, Camo," he greeted.

Jason's father, Mr. Hawthorne, was awesome. Other people may have thought him weird, but Camo was weird too, so he was awesome. He wore a homemade outfit, a blue and green theme that shimmered like duck feathers. He kept his longer hair in a ponytail behind his head, and he must've been slightly farsighted, because he had a pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose for the stitching.

"Hey," she replied, grinning at him and waving slightly. "Come on. Let's go to your room."

They did. Jason's room was orderly in the more traditional sense, but still a little cluttered. They plopped down on his bed. "So . . ." he asked. "What do you want to do?"

She shrugged.

He huffed slightly. "You're no help." Hearing those rather spunky, Camo-y words in his soft tone sounded strange. "You know what . . . I'll give you a makeover." His smile was as impish as Jason ever got.

Camo just shrugged again. Mabel would certainly be happy.

About fifteen minutes later, Jason said, "Okay. You're good." He probably had a mirror somewhere in his room, but she pulled out the one in her pocket, that she'd bought at the trinket store in the mall. It looked pretty good. He'd gelled back one side of her hair to emphasize that one floof it got, and as for the makeup, there was a little bit of green and brown eyeshadow, but it was pretty light. No mascara, because her "eyelashes were good already", but he had added mock army paint stripes on her cheeks.

She liked it. Maybe not for always, but it added a little more character to her face.

It took a second for her to realize he was staring at her mirror in confusion. "What?" she asked, confused at why he was confused.

"What, what?"

"Why are you staring at my little mirror?" she clarified.

He frowned at it. "How long have you had that thing? It looks weird."

She huffed. "Okay, first, weird is awesome and how dare you suggest otherwise. Second, I got it at that trinket-y place in the mall a couple days ago. Third, what do you mean it looks weird?" She looked at it. It was just . . . a mirror. It wasn't like her reflection was weird or whatever, it was just a mirror, with a couple runes along the side. "Are you talking about the runes?"

"Runes?" Now he sounded completely confused. He grabbed it from her (gently, because Jason was gentle) and examined it. "Huh. I-I don't think these are runes, Camo."

"What do you mean?" Wordlessly, he pulled on her arm and held up the mirror to a mirror. The runes flipped over, but they still looked like runes. "Okay. Is that supposed to mean something?"

He hesitated. ". . . I think they're Chinese letters." He pulled out his phone and used Google Translate—ah, yes, the most useful of apps—and read it aloud. "'Beware you who hold this mirror, as your opposites come to life.' That's . . . that's weird, and definitely mystical, but what—"

The mirror started to glow. He yelped and threw it away, on the carpet, and both of them backed up. It must've been some kind of spell! A kind of contrived method of writing a spell, sure, but a spell nonetheless. (She was surprised Google Translate was detailed enough to get the phrasing right, honestly.) A sort of storm seemed to swirl, emanating from the mirror, lying on the floor.

Maybe "storm" was a strong word. There was a breeze pulling at things and spinning it around, sure, but it was more a cyclone of glitter. No, not glitter—that was powdered glass. Tiny, tiny little bits that were basically sparkly sand at this point, spinning around and around in a tornado over the mirror. The winds picked up, and his room was orderly no more.

Jason was cowering behind his bed, for obvious reasons, but Camo was feeling brave, so she stepped forward, towards the glass cloud. She had gotten just close enough to touch the cloud when—

BAM!

She was thrown backwards, and her head spun. The world turned white, then black, and she groaned, slowly sitting up, clutching her head and waiting for her vision to return. At least her glasses hadn't broken. That would've really sucked, since these were already her backups. She was not prepared for what she saw.

Herself.

Or . . . wait, what?

Another Camo sat in front of her, but this Camo wasn't a her. A boy version of her. Granted, they looked kind of similar, but it was still noticeable. He wore similar clothes to her, his hair was the same dirty-blond, same hazel eyes. He also wore the same expression of shock that she expected she would see on her own face if she was to look in a mirror.

"This is so weird," both Camos said at the same time.

She got to her feet and dusted off the powdered glass on her. Boy-Camo did the same thing. They stared at each other, walking in a circle. It was unnerving.

"So . . . hi, boy-me," she said, trying to keep her tone light and uncaring.

He looked affronted. "Who's to say I'm the genderbent version of you? I think that you're the girl version of me!"

She huffed. "Does it really matter which of us is the original?"

"I guess not."

"Though, to be fair, you were the one who just came out of my mirror," she added with a grin, trying to get the last word.

"I came out of a mirror?!"

Jason made a little squeak from on the bed. Both Camos looked at him, having completely forgotten he was there. "So," he said, his voice significantly higher than it usually was. "How about we introduce ourselves, or something? Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Boy-Camo agreed. "I'm Camden."

"Camo."

He looked at her oddly. "Camo? What kind of name is that?"

She gave him the look. "It's better than Chamomile."

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh, a choke, and a wheeze. "Right you are," he said, sounding out of breath. He took a moment to regain his composure, then he asked. "And, you?"

"Uh, Jason," her friend replied. Wow, he was being really cool about this, saying that there was now two of her in the room.

"So. Um. You said I came out of a mirror?" Camden asked, looking uncomfortable. The other two nodded. Camden did, too, but slower. "Okay. So, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say I'm in some parallel dimension."

"I was thinking the same thing!"

"Well, yeah, we are the same person."

Camo sat back down on the floor of Jason's room, thinking. So, Camden was from some parallel dimension in the mirror, but none of them had any clue how to get him back. She didn't think there was anything in Dipper's Journal about this, from when she read it way back when, but . . . there were two other installments. Stan had at least one of them, she was pretty sure, back from their defeat of Gideon.

Could she ask him for it? They were on decent terms, and (glancing at her genderbent counterpart) this was a pretty good cause.

"All right," she said, "I have an idea. I have to go back to the Shack, though, to get something from Stan. I'll be right back."

"Shack?" Camden asked, sounding confused.

Oh, scuff. Did he live in Florida or in Oregon? Both were a possibility. "Uh, yeah, the Mystery Shack," she explained. "It's this tourist trap that I work at, run by Stan Pines."

"Oh," he said, "so it's your equivalent of the Murder Hut?"

Murder Hut? What the scuff was that? However, it did sound like an alternative Mystery Shack, so she was decently sure he lived in Oregon. That was good to know.

She left Jason's house for the Shack on Mabel's bike, which she'd hijacked for the trip. Certainly made it take a lot less time. She arrived at the Shack and waltzed right on in. Stan was watching TV, so she plopped down on the floor near him. "Hey, Stan? Quick question. Was the Shack ever named anything different from the Mystery Shack?"

"Oh yeah!" Stan said. "It used to be called the Murder Hut. That drew in the wrong kind of crowd, though, so we didn't stick with it for long."

Ohhhhh. So in Camden's world, Stan never renamed it. Interesting. "Also," she added, wondering how to phrase this correctly, "I need Journal 2. And I swear, I have a really, really good reason . . ."

Camden felt uncomfortable.

He didn't know if this Jason guy existed in his home dimension or not—he never really talked to anyone. He preferred to read. A lot. Five minutes after Camo left, he was already curled up with a book the size of his head and had made himself comfortable on the other boy's bed.

Jason had left a little bit ago, to go talk to his parents or whatever. Camden hadn't really been paying attention. This AU book was really cool. However, it was also really short, as it was technically only a really cool short story, so he had it finished in half an hour. None of the other books on the shelf caught his eye, so he just looked out the window. Mystery Shack, huh? He worked at the Murder Hut under finances. Did Camo run a similar job or what?

The town looked different than he knew it to be. Sticky's Diner seemed to be Greasy's Diner here. Little Rifle Lazer Tag was Big Gunz Laser Tag here. Unhappy Car Sellings was Gleeful's Auto Sale. Crushed Bone, that one biker joint his parents had forbidden him to go to, was Skull Fracture, which, quite frankly, he preferred. Mind Reading Mansion was the Tent of Telepathy. Overall, it was familiar yet strange.

And then he saw the expensive car coming down the road, straight for Jason's house.

Intrigued, he went for the door—and then hesitated. It probably wouldn't be smart to go down there, with other people around. Jason's parents knew Camo, so they would probably recognize him and be very confused. He bit his lip. He really wanted to go check it out, but . . . common sense wanted to hold him back. He glanced over to Jason's makeup, and an idea formed.

A wide grin split his face.

At some point later, Camden stared at his own face in the mirror, now marred in surprisingly good makeup mimicking a large bruise. It covered his entire right cheek, all the way up to his eye and coloring a bit of his nose. It wasn't perfect, Jason would definitely see through it, but it worked. His face didn't look nearly so much like Camo's anymore.

He partially hid his hair in a baseball cap he found in Jason's closet, and, though it pained him, he stuck it on the right way, instead of backwards. He pulled his black-and-white flannel off his waist and buttoned it up. He was glad he'd put on normal shoes and pants, since, when he flared the collar of his flannel a little bit, he actually looked pretty different.

That would have to be enough. He opened the door and went downstairs.

He still felt pretty nervous, mind you. He thought his disguise was good, but there was no telling how well these people knew Camo, and he didn't know if they'd recognize him as her male counterpart. Still, he shoved that down and continued down the stairs, playing with a little bit of hair in his face and trying to put on a confident expression, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

That all left him as soon as he saw the girl down there.

Atlantica. At least, this dimension's equivalent of Atlantica. He felt his eyes widen and his heart speed up a little bit. Atlantica. What was so special about her, you might be wondering? Well, Atlantica was his girlfriend. Sure, she looked a little different here, with her hair dyed blond and a slightly different fashion sense, but it was still her. He'd never forget that face.

She looked up at him, and they locked eyes. She gaped at him. "Is that the weirdo girl?"

Oh, bust. He'd forgotten about everything else. Thankfully, nobody else was in there but Jason, who whirled around and shot accusatory glances at him. Well, not super accusatory. Jason was pretty mild-mannered.

"What happened?" Not-Atlantica continued, not in the nicest tone. "You look a lot more boyish than normal. Not that you were very feminine to begin with," she added snidely.

He didn't even respond to that. "Atlantica?" he asked.

She looked taken aback. "Excuse me? My name is Pacifica Northwest. Did you seriously forget that? Oh, wait, my mistake. Of course you did. It's not like you've got a lot of brain power to remember it with."

He didn't respond to that, either. He just rushed up and hugged her. Maybe she wasn't Atlantica Southeast, but this was close enough. He hadn't seen his girlfriend in three months, since she'd moved, and he'd missed her so much. Pacifica smacked him. "Don't touch me!" She then took a moment to look him up and down. "Definitely not the weirdo girl. Who are you?"

"Camden," he answered. He was well aware the smile on his face was probably horribly goofy, but whatever. Then he realized that, to her, a stranger had just hugged her. "Um, sorry about that. You, uh, you remind me of my girlfriend. She's pretty, just like you. That much is obvious."

Yes, he was flirting. No, he didn't care.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jason looking between them, slightly horrified but mostly confused. "Um, Pacifica? Weren't we taking measurements?"

"Oh, right." She returned to the position she'd been in, but she continued to stare at him. "You look like that Camo girl," she commented. "Like, a lot."

I wonder why. He just shrugged. "Maybe she's just lucky enough to look like me."

Just then, the door flew open, and Camo came running in, whooping loudly and holding some strange book in her hand. "VICTORY!" she cheered. Then she looked at the other three kids, and her mouth dropped open. "What the scuff?"

Camo had been very excited at getting Journal 2 from Stan. He did have to blindfold her, make her wear noise cancelling headphones, and restrain her to the armchair in order that she wouldn't figure out where his secret lair was, but after almost an hour, she was back in victory.

That excitement quickly faded when she saw the people in the living room. Jason was taking the measurements of none other than Pacifica Northwest, and Camden was standing there with the most ridiculous disguise. A baseball cap, some makeup to look like a bruise, and buttoning up his flannel. It was still very clear he was her, and it just made him look like more of a dummy. (Was she calling herself a dummy when she called him one? These were the questions.)

Pacifica was now looking between the two of them very quickly, as if she was trying to understand something. "Are you two twins?"

Camo snorted. "No, we're not Mabel and Dipper, Pacifica," she said derisively. "He's me from another dimension."

Camden nodded, rubbing away some of that dumb fake bruise on his face. "Yeah," he admitted, and he did sound a little embarrassed. "Um, in my dimension, you're my girlfriend." Pacifica looked shocked, and Camo couldn't blame her. A look of disgust was spreading across her own face, though, when she thought about it, maybe it was undeserved. She probably could've gotten along with the rich girl pretty well, if she hadn't known Mabel and Jason first.

"Anyway," she said pointedly, trying to leave that fragment of the conversation. "I found this. I checked it, and I figured out how to get you back," she told Camden. "It's pretty simple. We do need some window cleaner fluid, though." And a couple other things, she noted, but she'd seen them at his house, so otherwise, they'd be fine. She snapped the book shut and looked up at him, already having walked towards the base of the stairs.

He didn't move.

"Camden?" she asked. "Come on." She motioned to stairs next to you. "We can do the ritual upstairs, so we don't bother them." He didn't move. "Look, I know she'd kind of your girlfriend, but leave her alone, okay? Come. On."

This time, he did move—closer to Pacifica, putting a defensive arm around her shoulder. "No."

"Um, what?"

"No," he repeated. "I'm staying with her." He turned to the rich girl, who looked disturbed. "Sweet, sweet Pacifica." He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and she shoved his hand away.

Camo stepped closer, over to the living room. He looked . . . different. Rougher. There was a hunger in his eyes when he looked at Pacifica, a longing that went too far. What he really reminded her of, honestly, was an alley cat that had managed to get a scrap of food and wasn't going to let anything take it away from him. It was really, really creepy, especially on a face so similar to her own.

"Come on," she repeated, a little more hesitantly. She reached out to touch his shoulder, but he snapped his hand up, pushing her away. "You need to go back home. Then you can spend some more time with your actual girlfriend."

He let out a humorless bark of laughter. He really didn't sound like her anymore. She rarely laughed like that, if ever. "Oh, no, you misunderstand. Pacifica's coming with me."

The other three in the room froze in horror.

"She'll be much happier with me," he continued on. "I'll treat her right. She'll never feel like she has to leave. I'll keep you safe." Creepy whispering. Camo was especially disturbed now. Would she act like that when she found someone she loved? In that case, maybe it was a good thing she wasn't dating until she was older . . . "Come on, Paz, let's go upstairs. Perform the ritual."

Pacifica threw him away again and backed up this time. Jason was already a good deal away, so at least she wasn't bowling over him. "No, I—I have parents, and they might not be great, but I'm not just gonna leave them."

"It'll be fine," he soothed. "Come on, Pacifica. You gonna perform the ritual, Camo?"

"No," she said, alarmed that he'd even think she'd do that. "I'm not going to help you kidnap somebody! Are you crazy? She doesn't even want to go with you!"

A cold expression of anger spread across his face. Oh, scuff. She'd gotten between the cat and his food. "You'd come between us?" He was crouched slightly, in a tense position. He looked around quickly, though she wasn't sure what for. Probably a weapon, since that was what she'd look for.

She caught eyes with Jason and tried to gesture for him to get the mirror from upstairs. It wasn't very efficient, so she ended up feeling like she was playing charades as she mouthed the word 'mirror' and pointed upwards. Only then did he get the message, and he crept away, towards the stairs. Hopefully, Camden wouldn't notice.

He didn't. He'd now grabbed a kitchen knife, though, which was giving her psychotic vibes. Holy scuff. He was actually willing to cut, possibly kill, her for Pacifica. Well, that wasn't happening. Camo fell into a defensive position, between him and Pacifica, passing Journal 2 backwards into the other girl's hands. "Get the materials for the ritual," she ordered. "I'll buy you time."

"Buy her time?" Camden laughed, his eyes looking wild and insane. Hopefully, this was never her. "You'll never beat me, Camo. Never."

"We'll see about that," she growled.

She tackled him, and they fell to the ground. Before she knew what was happening, they were in a flurry of sunburned skin and short, dirty blond hair. He managed to score a slice on her cheekbone with his knife. She was unable to hurt him much, though, because she had a feeling Jason wouldn't be very happy if she burned his house down.

However, she managed to spin his arm in a way that made him shout out in pain, though she didn't manage to break it, unfortunately, and she got another cut on the wrist from that move. She backed up, brushing away the blood welling in both of the wounds.

Camden took the opportunity to run away, presumably for Pacifica. With a grunt, she chased him. However, he had the head start, and they were more or less matched in speed, so he reached the rich girl before she did.

She barreled into the room, panting, bleeding, and in horror at the sight of Camden holding his knife to Pacifica's neck. She had managed to gather almost all of the materials, Camo was pretty sure—but now Camden had them, and when Jason returned with the mirror, all he'd need was that scuffing window cleaner fluid.

"Be a good girl," Camden soothed Pacifica, who was whimpering and holding very still. "We're just going to wait for Jason to show up with the mirror, and then you're going to come back home with me. Okay?"

She only whimpered.

He doesn't realize he needs the window cleaning fluid, Camo realized. But he will as soon as he starts setting up the ritual. I need to get it before he does.

However, as soon as she stepped away, Camden made a 'tsk' noise. "Now, now, Camo, don't go any further than that. I want you right where I can see you." As if to prove his point, he pulled the knife closer to Pacifica's neck.

He looked completely mad. His baseball cap had fallen off when he and Camo had been fighting, and his blond hair stuck up wildly around his head. His eyes were open too wide, and they were too frenzied, to be normal. His flannel was still buttoned up, but it had some of her blood staining it. (Was it technically his blood, too, since they were the same person?) The collar was up on one side and down on the other, and of course there was the bloodied knife in his hand.

Jason came downstairs with the mirror, finally (what took him so long?) and watched the scene in horror. "Ah, yes. Mirror, please, Jason?" Camden said.

Her friend slowly made his way across the hall, a worried expression on his face. Camo shifted her hand so it was hidden from her dimensional double and gestured for Jason to give it to her. He did notice, but Camden noticed his noticing. "No tricks, Camo. The mirror comes to me."

Her snark burst through, despite the threat on Pacifica's neck. He wouldn't actually hurt her . . . would he? "Well, I mean, we are kinda the same person, so it's still going to you if I get it." Jason stuck the mirror in her hand and she grinned, though it was somewhat ruined by the blood from the cut on her cheek running down into her mouth. She coughed and wiped it away, and then Camden attacked.

Not Pacifica, thankfully. He rushed at her with murder in his eyes and, as she grappled with her psycho self, she ordered the other two, "Go find the window fluid!" She elbowed him in the pressure point in his shoulder, and he slunk back in pain, hatred burning in his eyes along with that murderous glare.

"We're the same, Camo," he told her in a low voice. "You know it, deep down. You're not any better than me, not really. When the time comes, you'll be just like me. You don't know anything about love."

"Oh yeah?" she challenged. "I know love. I see it every time Dipper gives up something for his sister. I see it every time Stan tells a lie to protect someone, even if it's to the cops. I see it . . . I see it whenever Jason . . . whenever he looks at me." She glanced behind her, to where he was standing there, with the fluid in his hand, staring at her. And she knew it was true.

It was hard to admit, but . . . he had a crush on her. And, since he was bi, that meant he must've felt similar attraction to Camden, at least until he went crazy and attacked them. She'd only just figured it out, but it was true. "Love is sacrifice. Giving up something for the sake of someone else, be it time, or money, or opportunity." She turned to Camden with a challenging look. "I think it's you who doesn't know anything about love. You just know possession and manipulation."

Camden screamed and charged at her. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

The knife pressed into her shoulder, and she shrieked in pain, backing up as blood burst from the deep cut. It had gone straight through her collared shirt and into the skin. Hastily, she pulled her black-and-white flannel off from around her waist and threw it off to the side, so it wouldn't get bloodied like Camden's was. Speaking of Camden, he went in again, towards her. She braced for the impact.

Jason surged forwards and shoved Camden away. When he spoke, his voice was just as soft as ever, but low, and dangerous. "You won't touch her again."

A burst of light from in the living room. Pacifica had set up the ritual, all on her own. The look on Camden's face was a mixture of horror and delight, and he charged into the living room, probably planning to grab Pacifica. Camo and Jason followed him, skidding into the room. Well, Jason skidded. Camo charged right along and slammed Camden into the ritual circle thing.

Both of them went in.

In that one moment in time, she saw infinite versions of herself, she felt infinite versions of herself, all around her, like different facets of a crystal she was inside of. A video-recording-obsessed version that called herself Cameo instead. A version that accepted the name Chamomile, though she wasn't happy about it. An animal-obsessed version that got teased and called Chameleon. A published author. A director. Herself, as she was, but if she'd never got summoned for Globnar. It was infinite, and she was overwhelmed.

Then that moment faded, and she heard Camden screaming. Her own voice was in there too, she realized dimly, and the light was disappearing. However, whether that was from the ritual ending or her losing consciousness, she wasn't sure. Either way, the world slipped and fell into darkness.

"—amo? Camo?"

Jason's voice roused her. She wearily opened her eyes. Unconsciousness it was, then. She wasn't laying on the floor anymore, though—he'd moved her to the couch. For a second, she was worried she'd bleed on his nice couch, but then she realized there was a band-aid on the cut on her face, and he'd wrapped her shoulder in bandages. Only then did she relax.

"Jason. What . . . what happened?"

"You pushed Camden into the circle, but you fell in too," he explained. "Everything went super bright, and I could hear both of you screaming. Then the light cut out. When I could see again, you were unconscious. I . . . I was afraid that you were . . ."

She laughed slightly, pushing herself into a sitting position. "I'm not dead, if that's what you were about to say. Where's Pacifica?"

"Over here," the rich girl's voice came in, only it didn't sound nearly as snobbish as it usually did. "Um . . . thanks, I guess. You didn't have to save me from him, and you hate me, but you did it anyway. Why did you do it?"

"It was the dreadful courageous nature the twins have been building in me," she deadpanned. Then, more seriously, "Really, though, it was my fault he was there in the first place. It wouldn't be right for you to have to pay the price when I caused the problem."

She huffed. "You got that right." Then it faded again, and she said, "Um, I don't really know how to repay you. My parents are throwing a ball in a couple days, and I . . . might be able to get you onto the guest list, if you're into that sort of thing."

Camo thought about it for a moment, then she nodded with a grin. "That sounds great. Thank you, Pacifica, really. Also, sorry you were nearly kidnapped by my alternative-dimensional self. Hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." She waved, and the girl nodded, leaving. Then, curiously, she looked at Jason and asked, "Did you ever get her measurements?"

"Mostly. My dad probably has the rest, though."

There was a moment of silence, in which they both awkwardly looked around, at their feet, anywhere but each other. Camo was the one who spoke first. "So . . . to be fair, I only just put the pieces together, like, today. You weren't Dipper-level of obvious."

He chuckled slightly, still not looking at her. "Things are awkward between us now, aren't they?" he asked softly.

She hummed slightly with a soft smile. "I don't think it has to be." He looked up at that. "The only reason I closed myself off from dating is because most boys are idiots, you know that? I'd be fine being your girlfriend, as long as it's . . . significantly subtler than what most people do, okay?"

"I thought you of all people would want it to be dramatic."

She gave him a smile. "I'm only dramatic with things that don't matter. Like clothes, and my dumb comments. Anyway . . . I'll be your girlfriend, halfway. You know, lovey-dovey stuff part of the time and just good friends the other part."

He snorted, and nodded. "I'd like that. It's a little unconventional, but . . . what else was I expecting?"

"Where's the mirror, by the way?" she asked, a furrow in her brow. He pulled it out of his pocket, and she glared at it, dropping it on the floor and stepping on it hard enough to crack it (which was a lot harder than people made it seem. It took her several tries). "Dumb mirror, wasting my money," she muttered. She turned back to Jason, her boyfriend (nope, thinking him of friend as the moment, she wasn't ready for that). "I'll see you next time, hopefully without psychotic mirror people."

Then she left. She was already biking home, with Journal 2 rather awkwardly in her hand as she rode on a bike slightly too small for her, when she realized what had just happened.

Had she just gotten a boyfriend accidently?

Camo was sitting on the armchair, watching TV, when the twins and Soos came back. They'd spent the day playing laser tag, Stan had told her. "So? How'd it go?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the screen.

"Well, Mabel and I battled in this kind of gladiatorial time combat—"

She would've done a spit take, had she had any water in her mouth. Instead, she coughed and spluttered and stared at them with wide eyes. "You did Globnar?!" she shouted, practically falling over the arm of the chair in her shock. What the scuff?! They did Globnar?! "What happened? Who won? What was the time wish used on?" she asked urgently, not even bothering to turn off the TV.

"How do you know so much about it?" Mabel asked, cocking her head.

She calmed down a little bit and a bit of pink spread across her cheeks. "Um, I actually already confessed, though you guys weren't paying attention at the time—I'm from the future," she admitted.

"WHAT?!" both twins screamed at the same time.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "I was summoned into Globnar by some lady in the future that I didn't know for reasons I didn't know. I lost, and she used her time wish to send me back here to help you guys on your adventures throughout the summer."

Dipper, of course, started grilling her. "How far in the future are you from? Who's the next president? When does the apocalypse start?!"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," she told him, holding up her hands. "First of all, only ten years, so not very significant. The apocalypse hasn't started yet, that I know of"—unless she was counting 2020, which she wasn't—"and I don't want to spoil anything. So, calm down."

"Why would someone send you to help us?" Mabel asked.

Camo looked out the window, going quiet. "I don't know," she said, practically in a whisper.

And that terrified her.

So, another advancement of the plot, marginally!

Also, I really want to hear your thoughts on the original, only-Camo stuff I come up with. Is it good or bad, do the conversations need buffing up, all of that. I want to become an author and fanfiction is kind of my practice, so reviews and allowed and recommended. Thank you to all of you who love Camo and my fic, I'm surprised with how long it's gone. It never could've happened without you readers, though, so thank you.

. . . Not What He Seems is coming up . . . (*excited squeal*)