Crystal's Notes: Sorry for the long delay. Was on vacation; you know how it is.

Keeping pace with the show, we'll say goodbye to old "Mr. Caesarian" after this chapter. Mr. Atbash will be "substituting" for a while next.

Extra kudos to those who are spotting all my ciphers and who have kudos'd and commented so far. The traffic isn't that great for this fic (which is fine), but for those who have left notes or likes, sincerely, thanks. You're the best.

Uncle Yoshi stood in front of the line of his family members and part-time help as he assigned jobs for the evening. Karai had begged to be the DJ-to which her father didn't really have a reason to say no-and Raph and Leo were in charge of making sure the food table was stocked throughout the night. April and Mikey were to man the ticket table-that is, until Mikey complained and begged to be part of the actual party itself.

At least no one could say Don didn't know when to spy an opportunity.

"I could help April, Uncle Yoshi." He raised a hand.

Uncle Yoshi's mouth veered downwards. "You realize you must commit," he rumbled. "You cannot leave. It will be just the two of you at the ticket stand. All. Night."

Don snuck a glance at April out of the corner of his eyes. He saw the way her red hair glimmered under the multi-colored party lights, the way glitter still stuck to her skin from when they were playing with the decorations earlier. He folded his hands behind his back and smiled and looked to his uncle. "I think that'll be just fine."

The thing was: Donnie's crush on April didn't happen overnight. At least, as long as you didn't ask Mikey, it didn't.

There was the incident with the haunted convenience store-which totally wouldn't have happened if Don hadn't been trying to impress April and her friends-but also was difficult to ascertain the exact events of. Raph hadn't been there, so he didn't know what had gone on. He was busy "so not getting into" this Jane Austenian period drama back at the Mystery Shack. Mikey was no help getting information either because even though he was there, he had been gorging himself on banned powdered-dip candy pouches and everything he could recall about that night contained pizza growing on trees in a crayon-colored cardboard world where he had a giant ice cream kitty as a pet.

Then there was Casey and Irma, April's friends. Neither of them Leo knew very well, but even when he asked all they would say was, "I don't know, man. It was such a crazy night!"

Leo himself had been gone all day somewhere he was not about to tell anyone else (it involved an adventure with bipedal talking triceratops, a shockingly sensitive creature called a spasmosaur, and his own crippling self-doubt and that wasn't something he wasn't willing to share anytime soon), so he couldn't tell what had happened or how something had changed in the dynamic between his younger brother and the Mystery Shack's charming part-time help. He only noticed that it did.

But then he and Donnie were tasked with making copies of flyers for the party Uncle Yoshi wanted to throw to revitalize younger interest in the Mystery Shack. They had found their uncle's crumbling xerox machine in his office, tried to make the copies so they could leave, but instead, through sheer accident, managed to make an incredible find.

"...Leo...I think this machine can copy humans."

And Leo saw something he wasn't unused to seeing in his younger brother: the gears in his head beginning to turn.

"What was that about, Don?" Raph laughed as he watched his brother prep himself in the mirror just a half hour before the party was set to start. "'Oh, I can work with April, Uncle Yoshi. I promise to stay with her, just the two of us, all night'-were you trying to be subtle?"

"Laugh all you want, Raph," Don said as he ran a comb through his long and slender ponytail one last time. "I've got the best plan to make sure my night with April goes perfectly!" He set down his comb and observed his dark hair as it fell in a straight line down his back. Satisfied, he clicked his tongue appreciatively at his reflection.

Mikey, lying on his stomach across the fluffy blue rug in the attic, groaned. "'Plan?' This isn't one of your over-complicated listy thingies, Dee, is it?"

"Uh, no," their genius of a brother huffed. He turned, reached into his pocket, and mumbled, "Let me just...show you guys-ah-ha."

The small paper Don unfolded fell open into a sheet almost as tall as he was.

"Step one," he read with a wide, proud smile. "Get to know April with playful, light hearted banter." He lifted his head from the paper to look pointedly at Mikey. "Banter is like talking, but smarter."

"This sounds like a dumb idea for poop-heads," his younger brother mumbled.

"Yeah, see, this isn't banter. This is what I want to avoid doing with April."

"How many 'steps' are there, Dee?" Leo asked. A frown was beginning to stretch across his face.

"Eleven," Donnie smiled. "And if I follow them all, the last step will be to ask her to dance with me! See? It's perfect! Nothing can get in my way!"

"I dunno, Don," Raph hummed from his bed. He had a comic book spread across his lap and idly flipped to the next page as he said, "Sounds like you're the one getting in your own way. Can't you just talk to 'er like you'd talk to anyone else?"

"Oh, big brother of little faith. That's all part of the plan! Step nine, to be exact!" Donnie pointed to a spot further down on his list.

Mikey groaned, unimpressed.

The party started with a moderate size that grew exponentially by the time it was just fifteen minutes underway.

While Donatello sat next to April and tried to speak around the continual nervous breaks in his voice, Michelangelo stood in the middle of the dance floor and brought the party to life. He moved and snapped his fingers and kicked his feet to the music Karai jammed on the loudspeakers.

When he finally shuffled over to the plastic chairs against the wall to grab his water bottle, he didn't notice until he sat down what looked like a baby alligator sitting on top of the short, buzzed haircut of the kid next to him.

Instantly, Mikey gasped. "Whoa! Is that an alligator on your head?"

The kid turned. He was broad-shouldered and umber brown-skinned; muscular for his age, tall with a square jaw. His hands looked like he could punch out even Uncle Yoshi with one hit. But there was a nervous curl to the corner of his mouth and a softness to the amber yellow of his eyes. In the two seconds since he had seen him, Mikey was enamored.

"I'm Michelangelo!" he breathed, placing a hand to his chest.

"It is nice to make your...acquaintance," the kid answered. His voice was deep and gravelly, with a parched rasp to it. "I am Lester. This is Jason." He gestured with his hand to another kid next to him, someone so small and slight that Mikey hadn't even seen him behind his much larger friend.

"Hi!" Jason greeted, waving a hand with a cheesy smile. His long blonde hair was covered with a backwards baseball cap. Freckles dotted the cheeks and nose of his face. "Nice to meetcha!"

"Ditto!" Mikey scrunched up his nose and giggled. "Dude. I gotta ask: why do you have tape all over your head?"

"Watch and learn, dude," Jason answered and stuck his face in the bowl of popcorn Lester held in his lap. When he pulled himself back up, there were several small kernels of popcorn stuck to each strip of tape across his cheeks and forehead.

Mikey's eyes widened with a bright gasp.

I have found my people.

A tap from the microphone at the DJ booth drew their attention to the corner stage. Karai cleared her throat. "Good evening!" she called with a wide smirk. "And welcome to the Party at the Mystery Shack! Don't forget that tonight, you guys could compete for the chance to win the Party Crown!" She held up a small crown. For as much as it was obviously made of plastic, the fake rubies on the ridges gleamed in the spotlights. "Whoever gets the most applause at the end of the night wins!"

Mikey clapped his hands to his cheeks. "I love tiaras…!"

Lester made a noise in the back of his throat. "That may be, but I would not get your hopes up for winning, Michelangelo."

"Huh? Why not?"

The kid gestured his chin towards the corner stage. When Mikey turned his head to look, Karai was joined by a young boy standing before her. He had short brown hair straightened into a bob around his face. He held himself with practiced poise, as if he was trained in a sport or perhaps ballet.

Mikey listened as the boy demanded Karai give him the crown. Some of the kid's henchmen around him chuckled when she tried to say that no, that he would have to wait until the end of the party to see if he won it fair and square.

"As if he'll have competition," a deeply tanned one with a Brazilian accent said.

"Who's that?" Mikey asked. He turned back to the two kids still sitting beside him.

"Chris Bradford," Jason murmured with a pouting frown. "The most popular kid in all of Gravity Falls."

Lester gave a heavy sigh. "He is ruthless to all of his peers-except those who his parents favor."

"But most of the time, he's just a big bully to us."

Lester hummed in agreement and Mikey's heart broke.

"As I said," Karai muttered to the smug brunet on the other side of her DJ set-up. "It's a competition. You get it when you win."

"Oh yeah? Well, come on now, let's be real: who's honestly going to try to compete against me?"

"I will!"

Mikey jumped to the kid name Chris Bradford's side, beaming. He waved at Karai, who seemed just as startled as Chris at his arrival. She recovered and waved back, so he stuck out his hand to Chris. "Hi. I'm Michelangelo!"

Chris laughed and pulled away. "What? That sounds like some ancient old guy's name."

"Well, you're not wrong!" Mikey swung his arm in good cheer.

Chris hesitated. For a moment, he had a stricken, deer-in-the-headlights look in the pale blue of his eyes, like he hadn't expected for Mikey to actually agree with him. Then, he regained whatever footing he had lost. He rolled his eyes. "All right, fine. Whatever, Michelangelo. May the best party dude win."

"You're on, man!" Mikey exclaimed. He watched as Chris Bradford turned away and melted into the sea of dancing people. When he and his posse had disappeared, he turned to Lester and Jason, who sat watching him with slack-jawed expressions of awe.

"He's going down." He shrugged.

"Let the battle for the Party Crown commence!"

When the party truly got in full-swing, April began to get antsy. She kept looking over her shoulder, sneaking glances through the window over their table. She would gasp and shove Donnie's shoulder-much to his blushing glee-and say, "Oh! I think they're playing 'Cha-Cha Slide.' Look at your little brother go!" or "'Funky Town!' That one's so old, haha! I've got to tease Karai about that!"

Don nodded and continually stuffed popcorn in his mouth. This was fine. It was all fine. He just needed more time to try and think of a better casual banter question. That's all.

But then, when the line finally died down, April made a sharp noise of excitement and wriggled in her fold-up chair. She jumped to her feet. "'Cupid Shuffle'-oh, Don, I have to get in there. Cover for me, won't you?"

It happened so fast, Don couldn't say a single thing.

"Wha-April-I-uh-!"

Then, she was gone.

And like clockwork, as if he had been waiting for one of them to crack, Uncle Yoshi appeared. His mouth was turned sternly downward as he asked, "Where is April?"

Don fretted. "Uh-bathroom! She's in the bathroom, Uncle Yoshi."

The renowned Man of Mystery nodded, slow and thoughtful. "I see." His dark eyes turned to spy the lack of a line, then wandered towards the party he could see well underway beyond the window. "I suppose...there may be little point in her returning to maintain the entry table for the remainder of the evening."

Don's heart skipped a beat in his chest. "Could-could I be relieved, too-"

"-no."

Uncle Yoshi turned for the front door.

Don spluttered. He placed both hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet. "But Uncle Yoshi! I want to have fun, too!"

"Then you shouldn't have volunteered to help with the tickets," he rumbled. But when the man stood before the door, he stopped. He gave a small sigh. Uncle Yoshi lifted his wristwatch to his face and frowned further. "...it is ten o'clock. You will stay for two more hours. Then you may join."

Don dropped himself into his seat with a dejected sigh. He propped up his chin in the curve of his palm and listened as the front door clanged shut after his uncle. "It's not fair," he whined to the night sky.

Frowning big time, Donnie turned in his seat to look through the window.

"Now April's in there, and I'm stuck out here. How can I get the chance to ask her to dance if I can't even get into the party?"

If only he could be in two places at onc-

His eyes caught sight of the flyers he and Leo had copied earlier that day.

Yeah, he thought. If only…

The world whirred, clicked, and was inked into existence. Flutter, flutter, drop. Everything blurred of cyan, magenta, and yellow. With a clean separation from his paper bindings, the second Donatello pushed himself up from the wooden floorboards under his hands. The first touch he recognized was the slither of his long hair spilling over his back. He looked up to the boxy device of clinical white and gray that appeared as if it had seen much better days and met eyes with the identical wide browns of the boy sitting on top of it.

"Wow," his original said. "It really does look like me. Incredible!"

"Ouch. 'It' is hardly fair here, don't you think?" he muttered and pushed himself to his feet. He raised a hand to dust off his shoulders.

"You can talk!" the first Don gasped and he slid from the copier. Both of his hands hovered, as if unsure whether to touch or to keep them far away. "Oh! You're right. Geez, I'm sorry. I just-you're my first-uh-" His original cleared his throat. "-well, all right, then. I guess I can call you Number Two?"

He laughed and placed his hands against his waist. "Oh, absolutely not. But you know what name you've always wanted, right?"

Don brightened and as one, they said, "Niccolo!"

The original Donatello laughed again. He pumped his fist. "All right! This is so cool! Okay. Okay! Niccolo it is." He dug into his pocket and fished out his folded paper. "So, Niccolo, do you know the plan for the evening?"

"Sure do!" Niccolo answered and like a delayed mirror, he reached into his pocket and folded out an exact paper replica of the plan his original held in his hands.

"Wow," Don breathed. His smile was a mile wide.

"You're saying that a lot."

"Sorry! Sorry. It's just…" The original Don stepped closer and peered at the two sheets as he held them up side-by-side. "...it really does copy human beings. Like, wholly and completely. This is-"

"-amazing," Niccolo finished. When Don's eyes drifted up, shocked, he grinned. "I know."

"Can you tell what I'm thinking right now?"

"Mmm." Niccolo tilted his head to the side. He lifted a finger to his chin. "You're worried that I'm going to turn against you somehow. Kind of like the clones do in the movies. Either I'll get jealous, or too independent, and want to pursue my own goals now that I have my own sentience."

Don blinked. "...well? And?"

Niccolo's hand fell back to his side. He folded the plan up and slipped it in his pocket. "The answer to that is no. I'm you. I know the reason why I'm here. Besides." He shrugged. "You can just throw water on me to make me melt whenever you want."

"Oh yeah," Don breathed. "Like when Leo threw his soda on that arm we accidentally copied…"

"Yeah," Niccolo grinned and nodded.

"Yeah," Don nodded back with a grin just as wide.

"Yeahhhhh," they said together and giggled when they mirrored the same exact thoughtful poses to one another.

This is great! The plan's back on! Nothing can go wrong now!

The plan was definitely not back on and everything was going wrong.

"Glad you got someone to cover you, Don! Now you can hang with Casey and I!" April said and Don felt as if a rug had been yanked out from underneath him. The redhead didn't seem to notice. With a smile, she turned to the kid dressed in all black and paint splatters standing beside her. "Casey, you remember Donnie from the convenience store, right?"

Casey shrugged. He had one arm up against the wall and a pinky in his ear. His face was scrunched up in intense concentration. "April, dude, I gotta be real. I don't remember a whole lot about that night." He pulled his pinky free and flicked whatever ear wax he found onto the floor. "But cool. Whatever. Nice to meet ya again, I guess, Don." He rested his hand on top of the skateboard propped against his hip.

"Likewise," Don retorted dryly.

"Whoa, dude. Nice braces."

Don felt his entire form tense; his hackles raised. If he was a porcupine, he would have chosen that exact moment to bristle and fling a few spikes. "Yeah," he said slowly. "Thanks, uh...look, I'm gonna go get a drink. I'll be right back."

"Okay!" April gave him a smile. "We'll be sitting on the couch. Come on over when you're ready to join us!"

The couch?!

Casey turned and rested his skateboard against the wall before walking far too closely to April's side towards the seedy, faded-blue sofa in the corner.

"Uh-yeah! Yeah, okay! Sure!" Don waved and turned. He made a beeline for the door to the outside. He could already see Niccolo's face and hands pressed against the window above the ticket table. He had a worried frown pushed flat to the glass. From the look on his replica's face, Don could tell Niccolo already knew as well as he did: they needed a new plan and stat.

"Okay, okay." Don pushed his flat hands down at his sides as he breathed a slow exhale. "One more Don. That's all we need. Just one more me. Three's not too many, right?"

Niccolo was nodding. His arms were crossed over his chest. "Right, right. Three Don's are perfect. Three Don's are good."

"Yeah. Three Don's are foolproof. What could go wrong?"

The printer scanned to life another Donatello. Just like before, the paper fluttered to the floor. It crinkled and writhed and with a momentary spotty pattern of an inky triage of colors, the figure within rose to its-no, his-feet.

When he lifted his head, he blinked to the other two Don's. He smiled.

"I know the plan, guys!" Number Three presented a thumbs-up. "Sounds great! Just one problem: what if Casey catches me? I can't face him by myself."

Niccolo and Donatello looked to one another. As one, they nodded.

"He's got a point."

"Yeah, a good point."

"Four Donnies."

"Yeah. Exactly what I'm thinking. This is a Four-Donnie-Plan."

Donatello laid himself flat against the glass. A line of neon green swept him from the top of his head to the bottom of his heels.

Whirr, Click. Hiss.

Four Donatello's quickly became five when the fourth became a paper jam. The Paper Jam Donnie hissed and squealed, but could utter nothing more than wordless, scratchy exclamations-"...gl nzpv rghvou dsrgvso!" "Yeah, yeah, I know, buddy..."-so a fifth Don was printed. The new plan, which by this point it was known as 'Dancing with April v1.5,' was ready to be set into motion.

The original Don wandered back downstairs to the party, just in time to hear the tail end of a power ballad Chris Bradford was belting. The final note of his song rang out to every corner of the room. Don saw Raphael, standing by the snack table, wince and cover his ears.

The audience cheered and while they were distracted, Donnie turned to Numbers Three and Five hunkered by the stairway. He nodded. The two copies bounded forward. They grabbed Casey's abandoned skateboard by the wall and with barely-concealed snickers, they ducked back outside the shack and into night.

Don waited until Mikey's own peppy 80's karaoke song was finished-cheered extra loud for him-then stepped up to Karai to offer the news.

"Oh." Karai sent him a weird look but pulled the microphone to her mouth anyway. "Um...does someone own a skateboard here? It's being stolen. Like...right now. I don't know who's, but two kids are running down the road with-"

There was a sudden, sharp gasp and in the next instant, Casey Jones was a blur as he flew from the shack.

Don could barely hide his grin. Success!

He stepped down from the corner stage and attempted to steady his breathing. Okay. Keep it cool, Don. Keep it cool. Now's your chance. April's all alone, now. No Casey to bother her. It's just you and her. Just you and her. Yeah.

Karai turned down the music real slow and popped an old love song onto the player. Don felt his heart beat faster than the tune.

"Hey, Goofus," said Raph from suddenly right beside him. Don jumped and squaked. Raph laughed. He had a surprisingly soft but teasing smile on his face. He lifted an elbow and nudged his little brother in the side. "Now's your chance. Sounds like the perfect time to ask April to dance."

"R-right…" Don's breathing turned thin. "...just gotta ask...ask April…"

Across the room, April closed her eyes and swayed to the music. Her head tilted left and right in a smooth slide and her hand tapped on the couch cushion. Had Don ever noticed how beautiful she was when she lost herself in a song?

"I...uh...I gotta-I gotta be right back!"

Without another word, Don darted off.

Several more copies later, and now Donatello had the perfect plan to ask April to dance. Before, there had been too many variables to consider: Uncle Yoshi figuring out his scheme, Karai changing the song suddenly and therefore breaking the mood, incorrect lighting from the cheap spotlights that might glare in their eyes, etc. But now, with ten Donnie's, the new plan would be perfect. There's no way they could fail.

The other Don's ran off and when they got into position, they each gave their signal. Upstairs in the attic, signal received, Niccolo was quick to usher Don out of the room with an urgent, "Hurry! Now's your chance!" With one final push, he propelled his original onto the upper landing and sent him a thumbs-up. "Good luck!"

"I don't need luck," Don preened. Already, he felt much more prepared than before. "I have a plan."

Until the moment he found April very much not out on the dance floor.

She was leaning against the wall in the hall branching off the converted museum space. Her head bobbed to the music. In her hand, she cradled a plastic cup filled with soda.

"April!" Don cried. His snapped his hanging jaw shut.

"Oh, hey, Donnie!" April smiled and waved. "Haven't seen you in a while. Enjoying the party?"

"W-w-what are you doing here?" Donnie asked instead. "Shouldn't you, uh, be out on the dance floor in like, uh-" -he checked his watch and laughed nervously- "-exactly forty-two seconds?"

April sent him a weird look. Then she laughed and pointed with her hand holding her cup to the door she stood beside. "I mean, ideally? I'm just waiting on the bathroom. Why, is Karai about to put a really good song on? I told her to save 'Macarena' for me."

"I-ha-uh-" Don angled his shoulders away from her and yanked out his folded sheet of paper from his pocket. What do I do now-what do I do now?!

"You know what's really great about Gravity Falls?"

"I..." Don lifted his eyes. "...no?"

"Nobody here really cares if you can't dance." April's mouth was lifted in a wistful smile; her eyes focused on some distant point. She slid her free hand into her jeans pocket. "I can't say the same thing in bigger cities, y'know. But Gravity Falls is too small and too removed from the rest of the world to really care about...being 'cool.' So it's nice. I feel like I can just be myself and everyone else is busy just being themselves, too, and together we're just...the most authentic versions of us there is, out in the middle of nowhere where nothing really matters. And I think that's pretty great."

Don didn't answer.

April looked to him. "For the record, I really like dancing. But I really suck at it."

"No you do-"

"-Don." April raised an eyebrow. She laughed. "Please. I grew up in New York City. I think I know what dancing is supposed to look like, and believe me, April O'Neil doesn't do it."

Donnie's eyes grew round. His hands clutching his plans lowered. "You're from New York City?"

"Yeah."

He placed a hand against his chest. "Me too! My brothers and I, we're all from New York."

"Really? No way. How come I didn't know about this?"

Don laughed. "I don't know. I mean, we've only been here a little over a week, so."

"That's amazing! What a small world. We've gotta trade Big Apple stories at some point, you know? I'd love to see what we have in common." The door to the bathroom opened and out walked a nervous young woman in a navy blue tight-fitting suit dotted with teal orbs. April gave Don a short wave. "Hey, though, be right back," she said and turned for the bathroom. "Don't wander too far this time, okay?"

"Okay!" Don smiled big as he waved. When April closed the door after herself, he absentmindedly hummed a contented tune to himself. He looked down at the list still in his hands and his smile softened.

With a satisfied note, Don folded the plan back up and stuffed it in his pocket. He turned.

"Hey! What are you doing, man?"

Don startled and slapped a hand to his collar. "Oh! Ha...hi, guys."

"Let me rephrase the question." Niccolo uncrossed his arms from over his chest and pointed a finger towards Don's chest. "What's been taking so long? According to the plan, you should have been out on the dancing floor with April like, eight-point-five minutes ago!"

"Yeah, uh, about that." Don scratched the back of his head. "Y'know, guys, I've been thinkin'. What if I don't need the plan? What if just being myself and talking to her like a normal person works just fine?"

Immediately, the clone Donatellos' voices overlapped in an offended uproar.

"Did he just say what I think he said…?"

"Don't need the plan?!"

"You bite your tongue!"

"That's really the most logical conclusion you came to?" Niccolo's voice carried over the rest, calm and cool and collected. "All right. Fine. If you're suddenly not going to stick to the plan, then maybe you shouldn't be the Donnie that gets to dance with April."

Don raised his hands. "Hey...wait just a second. I thought you said you weren't going to turn on me."

"Yeah, well. That was before you tried to go off-script." Niccolo turned to the other clones flanking him. "Don's? I think it's time for a little risk-management...starting with our own 'Classic Donnie.'"

"Wait, what? What?!"

Donatello had to hand it to his clones: at least they tried to keep him contained. In the end, however, a closet wasn't exactly the best way of restraining someone who had three other brothers, one of whom was the self-proclaimed king of pranks. It took him only moments to get free and when he did, the only thing he could hear behind him was some warning screams from his Paper Jam copy-a scratchy "Mvrgsvi mvvw blf wl zmbgsrmt yfg yv blfihvou!"-and Niccolo muttering, "Hey, uh, guys...if you were stuck in a closet, what would you do?"

"Break out."

He knew that the few fleeting seconds' head start he had before his clones caught up with him were fortunate for him to have. He needed to use these seconds wisely. He needed to come up with a plan to get rid of those clones.

He needed-

"Raph! Leo! Grab an unopened bottle and come with me!"

"Don?"

"What the-"

"-just hurry!"

Donatello skidded beside the table of snacks at the side of the party room. His arm snatched out to grab the nearest two-liter and as soon as it was in his hands, he shook it. Hard. He kept running, back towards the hallway he had just exited from, and set the bottle against his hip, angling it outwards.

He could hear footsteps come thumping up behind him as well as in front and the instant his clones rounded the corner from the stairway, he ripped off the cap from the two-liter.

The effect was instantaneous.

The pressured soda burst free and spewed outwards all over the hall. The several clones leading the way after him were caught in the spray and cried out when it made contact with their skin. With despairing cries and a few objecting "Boo!"s, they began to melt. Their images ran like bleeding ink; their voices blended into one another. Even Paper Jam Don began to disintegrate with gurgling shouts.

Raph made a half-choked noise from behind him. "There's more of him?!"

Leo's voice was steadier. "Don, what is going on here? Why are there several copies of you that you're destroying?"

"It's a long story." Don gasped. He took a step forward and counted the puddles on the wooden floorboards. "Kind of a stupid story, really." He bit his lip and spun the cap back on the bottle tucked in his arm. "Pineapples. That's only nine."

"Only nine?" Raph repeated, incredulous.

"Don, exactly how many clones of you are there?"

"Just one more." Don turned on his heel. He hurried between his brothers, still standing stunned behind him. He ran out to the dance floor. "And I think I know where he is…!"

"All right, guys!" Karai called into the microphone. Her voice amplified around the room. "It's been a great night so far! We've got just one more song, and then we get to vote on who will receive the Party Crown!"

The crowd cheered. Mikey could hardly stop his wildly-pattering heart. He turned to Chris Bradford idling nearby and called out, "Hey, Rad-Brad!"

The brunet snapped his head around. His baby blues blazed as if furious.

Mikey hurried up to him and smiled wide. "Look, man, I just wanted to say: whoever wins, it's been a super fun party." He stuck out a hand. "So thanks. Thanks for making it a blast."

Chris Bradford flicked his tongue against his teeth in a tsk. The grin across his own face was condescending, steep. He placed his hands on his waist. "Aw, isn't that cute," he purred. A couple of his friends snickered from his sides. "It thinks it's gonna win."

Mikey blinked. His smile faltered.

...it?

"Hey, can you hear that?" Chris continued. He curved a hand around his ear and leaned in. His eyes widened. Mikey placed his hand behind his ear, too, for good measure. "Is that-are people clapping...for the losers?" With a low chuckle and sneer, Chris dropped his hand. "Yeah. Didn't think so."

A couple of Chris' friends laughed. Others cupped their hands around their mouths to call out, "OH!"

Mikey retained his smile as the others turned and clapped Chris on the back. They ushered him away and into the crowd of other partygoers. Mikey chuckled quietly to himself and pumped his arm in good cheer. "Yeah, haha. You guys sure are funny."

Yikes, I gotta win this so bad.

In the end, finding Niccolo wasn't hard. What was hard was seeing his face, and seeing why the clone looked so despondent while looking out over the dance floor.

"It's too late. We blew it, Don," his copy murmured. He had both forearms crossed over the banister on the upper level overlooking the partiers. His chin rested against his own printed skin. "We really blew it."

Across the room, leaning against the wall, Casey stood awfully close to April. Their two heads were bent together, murmuring words to one another and scrunching their faces up in barely-stifled laughter. Abruptly, April straightened up with a louder bark of laughter and shoved Casey's shoulder. This, of course, only made Casey guffaw harder.

They seemed happy.

Ice squeezed Don's chest tight. "Oh," was all he could think of to say.

"Yeah." Niccolo sighed. "Sorry, man." He lifted himself from the banister and turned to his original. "So I guess that also means you can disintegrate me, now. It's over. Job done. We failed."

Raph came up behind his younger brother and peered over his shoulder. His nose scrunched up. "Wait, is that what this is all about? Getting with April?"

Leo strode up to the other shoulder, flanking Don on the opposite side. "Let me get this straight. Don, you used Uncle Yoshi's copier to make clones of yourself, all just to dance with April?"

Don sucked in a sharp breath and turned around. "It-it was complicated, okay? It was all part of this plan, and-" He stopped himself. "-and like I said before, it was stupid. This whole scheme was all just stupid. I know that, now. So you don't have to tell me, okay?"

Silence fell over the three quadruplets and the dejected copy.

Leo sighed. "Yeah, well, maybe it's a good time to get rid of that last clone. Fix this? And then later, maybe we can talk about what happened."

Don's shoulders slumped. The half-filled two-liter bottle he still loosely clutched in his fingers bounced against his knee. "Yeah," he murmured. "All right."

Raph nodded. He looked between the two Don's and couldn't tell who looked sadder. But if Leo wanted to back off and let them figure it out for now… "We'll see you later, Donnie. We'll still be by the snack table whenever you get back, got it?"

"Yeah. I got it."

Raph turned to look at Leo. Leo's eyes lifted back. When the eldest of their quadruplets nodded, the two turned and walked quietly away and back out onto the dance floor.

Mikey watched with a low frown as the Party Crown was lowered upon Chris Bradford's smug brow. He watched as Chris and his crowd of friends cheered and paraded him out of the Mystery Shack, all the way from the stage to the front door at the back of the party hall. He watched as all of the festivities finally began to wind down. And he watched, slumped on the elevated corner stage, as Lester and Jason made their way over to him, their faces difficult to read.

Mikey sighed and lifted his head from the vee of his hands. "I'm sorry, guys. I really thought I could beat Rad-Brad." I thought I was the biggest partier, like...ever. But I guess not. He pressed a finger to the ground between floorboards.

"It's okay, dude," Jason murmured. "Bradford totally cheated, anyway. Did you see the way he was glaring at other peeps until they clapped for him? So, it's like, psh. Whatever."

"Yes," Lester uttered, low and raspy. His alligator still sat high on his head; its little beady eyes blinking out to the colorful, disco-sparkled world around it. "In the end, it matters not who won. All that matters that you tried. Chris Bradford will remember that. And so will all of us."

The corner of Mikey's mouth lifted in a small smile. He placed both hands on his knees and looked up to his new friends. "Aw. Thanks, guys."

"Besides!" Jason grinned wide and clenched both fists. "Now that Bradford's gone, we can really get this party started, right?"

Mikey blinked and raised his head to the nearest clock. "But isn't it like-yeah, it's like, after midnight-"

"-no biggie!" Jason shrugged. "We'll just call our moms and see if they'll let us sleep over. No problemo, my dude!"

Mikey gasped, big and wide. He shot to his feet. "Wait, what, really? Are you guys serious? You'd want to stay?"

Lester's own smile was long and wide. "We are very serious, my friend-should you be open to having us." He breathed and slipped his baby gator from his head into the palm of his hand to scratch its head. "We may not have as many friends as Chris Bradford does, but we do have each other, and that, I believe, is just as good. If not more."

Mikey's smile could not have been bigger.

Feeling as if his heart might burst from inside his chest, the littlest quadruplet spun around to face the stage. "Karai!" His cousin lifted her head from the CD album pamphlet she had been browsing. "Put on another song! This thing's going all night!"

The grin Karai sent him was wicked. She pulled her headphones up from around her neck. "With pleasure, Mikey."

Raph was right, Don thought to himself as he made his way back towards the party hall. His hands were in his jean pockets; his head hung low. I really do get in my own way.

Literally.

He stepped into the doorway, looking out across the room. Karai was still behind the DJ set-up on the corner stage, swaying her body left and right to the electronic dance music she had blaring. Raph and Leo, though still nearby the dwindling snack table, had taken up moving to the beat in their own dorky, uncoordinated ways. Mikey and two other kids Don had never seen before were dancing together, happy and carefree and with big smiles on their faces.

And then there was April.

She stood against the wall where Casey had been with her just moments earlier, her head gently bobbing to the music. Cradled in her hand was another plastic cup full of soda.

"Do you think I even have a chance with April? She's like, fifteen, and we're twelve."

"I don't know. But I do know, you're, like, making zero progress doing it this way."

The folded paper in his pocket seemed to burn.

Don fished it out and unfolded the plan one last time. His brown eyes scanned over the detailed sheet once, twice. Then, with a deep breath, he tore it to pieces. He stuffed every scrap in the nearest trash can and dusted the remains off of his palms.

Okay. Off-script it is.

He didn't know if he was expecting to feel dread or horror about this. But somehow, instead of anything else, he just felt hope.

With a small smile to himself, Donnie turned around and walked out onto the dance floor.

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