“Ow!” cried Peridot, dropping the rhythmatic pulverizer to the barn’s wooden floor and sticking her now-swollen finger into her mouth. Her latest meepmorp – wood from the side of the barn her robot had destroyed, haphazardly nailed together – was proving more difficult to assemble than anticipated. The sculpture was supposed to represent the jarring disorientation caused by a rapid change in perspective. At the moment, it merely represented damage to one’s touch-stumps. Peridot continued to nurse her sore finger, grumbling something about 'bismuths' and 'primitive Earth tech.'

Peridot’s sour mood was interrupted by a familiar splashing sound. Turning towards the barn doors, Peridot saw Lapis’ wings retract as the blue gem alighted just outside. Lapis stalked into the barn, her expression taut with apprehension.

“Peridot,” she said, her tone dangerously neutral, “Can you come outside?”

Peridot swallowed nervously, before giving Lapis a hesitant nod and walking towards the barn doors. She didn’t understand. The past few months had been great — she and Lapis had gone from reluctant roommates to best friends. As she made her way outside, Peridot frantically rewound her memories, trying to find an event that could undo months of bonding.

Lapis had stopped a few metres from the pool, and motioned for Peridot to join her with a small jerk of her head. As Peridot trotted over, she noticed that Lapis was fidgeting with the flight-ruffled fabric of her skirt. Peridot’s eyes widened slightly: was her roommate nervous?

An uncomfortable silence had descended upon the two Gems. Peridot was sweating bullets, while Lapis continued to tug at her skirt and stare at her feet. Eventually, Peridot couldn’t stand it anymore.

“So,” Peridot said, in a tone that was totally, 100% casual, “What are we doing out here?”

Lapis’ gaze shifted away from her feet, to the field where the water silo had once stood. A few tense seconds passed, and Peridot felt as though her form would dissipate from the suspense.

“Do you remember,” Lapis began, gnawing slightly on her lower lip, “when I first got here, and you were trying to be my friend? You and Steven did all this crazy stuff trying to get me to like you or forgive you or whatever.”

Peridot nodded, groaning in exasperation at the memory. Her crass message on the card, her insensitive pool gift, and the destruction of her beloved tape recorder were all unpleasant testaments to her and Lapis’ rocky start. In hindsight, the day had actually been improved by the Roaming Eye’s terrifying arrival — at least Lapis began to warm up to her, somewhat.

Her face crinkled in discomfort, Peridot muttered a reluctant “yes.”

“Well,” Lapis hesitantly continued, “Steven says you give gifts to people you like to make them happy. And since … um … since you already got stuff for me, I thought …” Lapis’ fumbling explanation trailed off. She was, Peridot noted, apparently as confused about her motives as Peridot herself. Though it seemed that Lapis wasn’t mad at her, at least.

“Lapis, my gifts were terrible,” Peridot muttered, looking away from her friend.

“I know. Wait, no!” Lapis exclaimed, throwing her hands out in a flat-palmed ‘stop’ gesture, “No, they weren’t! I just didn’t really get it. Urgh…” Lapis tangled her hands into her messy hair, frustrated by how poorly this was going — whatever ‘this’ was, anyway.

The two roommates stared hopelessly at one another for a few seconds. Then, fed up with her stuttering explanation, Lapis straightened up and got to the point.

“I made you something. Two somethings,” Lapis said. She reached into her crop-top, much to Peridot’s embarrassment, and withdrew a piece of paper from between the fabric and her body. Letting her top snap back into place, Lapis handed the paper to Peridot, who unshielded her eyes and accepted the gift.

“It’s a card,” Lapis said, “Like the one you gave me.”

Peridot inspected the card. Much like the one she and Steven had made, it had two figures, drawn in crayon, holding hands on the front. It was immediately obvious that the artist behind this piece was significantly less talented than Steven: Peridot and Lapis were represented by a green and blue stick figure, respectively, and the green stick figure had a triangle for a head. Opening the card, Peridot found a message scrawled across the inside, framed by a light dusting of glitter. Ignoring the sparkly embellishment, Peridot cleared her throat and read the message aloud:

“Dear Peridot,

Sorry for breaking your tape recorder.

I just couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone after everything that happened.

This is a sincere apology,

Lapis.

P.S. I like your hair. It reminds me of the pyramids back on Homeworld.”

Having finished reading the card, Peridot looked up. Seeing Lapis’ nervous expression, Peridot offered her a cheery smile. “This handmade card is an excellent gift for a roommate of my caliber. Thank you, Lapis.”

Lapis’ whole expression brightened at Peridot’s response. Smiling widely, she gestured towards the pool, causing the water to rise into the air. Peridot stared quizzically at the display, prompting an explanation from Lapis:

“Two somethings, remember?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Peridot replied, face quirked in skepticism, “the pool was my gift to you, thoughtless though it was. How can it also be your gift to me?”

Lapis reached down, ruffling Peridot’s hair with one hand as her other continued to guide the pool water.

“Give it a minute,” she chuckled.

Peridot grumbled, but followed her roommate’s request. She watched as the amorphous blob of water before her was moulded into a crisp rectangular pane by Lapis’ guidance, and pushed back so the whole surface fit comfortably within their field of view. With a final flick of her wrist, Lapis transformed the surface of the rectangle into a flawless mirror.

Peridot stared at her reflection in the water’s surface, uncertain as to how this qualified as a gift. She turned to Lapis, whose eyes had taken on the same mirror-like quality as the pool water. Peridot fidgeted at the unnerving sight, until Lapis offered a smile and gestured towards the mirror.

Peridot turned, and was startled to find that her reflection was gone. In its place was something almost as familiar.

“On the last episode of Camp Pining Hearts…” Paulette’s narration of the CPH intro blared from the rectangular mirror — or screen, as Peridot realized. Overcome with a sudden rush of excitement, Peridot’s face split into a huge grin. She was nearly squealing with anticipation.

“Oh my gosh! I’ve never seen Camp Pining Hearts on ‘The Big Screen!’ Steven said it wasn’t popular enough to ever play in theatres.”

“Figures,” Lapis snorted, “Steven’s the only human with good taste.”

Giddy, Peridot turned back to the screen. Lapis was playing the mid-season finale of Season 3, one of Peridot’s favourites. In her expert opinion, it was only tarnished by Percy’s confession of his amorous feelings to the cloddy Paulette at the end of the episode. Peridot, however, was more than willing to ignore the less-than-stellar scene, since Lapis had prepared this show especially for her.

Peridot lived every moment of the episode through the massive, window-like screen. The log-roll competition in the morning, the cooking disaster at lunch, the wood-carving competition in the afternoon (Percy’s rabbit carving won). And as the dreaded ‘Percette’ scene approached, Peridot found that she didn’t mind one bit.

But when the moment arrived, it was drastically different from what Peridot remembered.

“But Pierre, I need you!” exclaimed Percy, his heavy Québécois accent purring over the other man’s name.

“I don’t understand,” Peridot murmured, turning to face Lapis, “Where’s Paulette?”

“I took some liberties,” Lapis smirked, pleased with Peridot’s reaction to her handiwork, “Now don’t miss it!”

Awestruck, Peridot turned her wide eyes back to the screen, where Percy was now stalking away from Pierre, his eyes shadowed by the brim of his cap. Pierre, meanwhile, was inspecting the gift Percy had given him — a little wooden rabbit.

“Wait!”

Percy started at the sound of Pierre’s voice, and the feel of his strong, callused hand finding his own. Pierre moved to stand in front of Percy. Their eyes met.

If Peridot had a heart, it would have stopped at the sight of Percy and Pierre, gazing into each other’s eyes as though seeking out stars.

“I need you, too.”

And with that, the final, aching barrier that stood between Percy and Pierre collapsed into dust. Their hearts would pine no longer. Their lips met, and Peridot’s life was complete.

“This is all I’ve ever wanted,” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears of unadulterated joy. Lapis’ cheeky grin stretched ear to ear.

“I knew you’d like it.”

“You clod,” Peridot sputtered, pulling Lapis into a tight hug and wiping her tears on the other Gem’s top, “of course I do.”

When Peridot turned back to the screen, however, she was mystified by what she saw. Percy and Pierre’s kiss had deepened considerably, and they had begun removing each other’s appearance modifiers. As the strange ritual continued to unfold, Peridot turned once again to Lapis for an explanation.

“Uh, Lapis? What are they doing?”

“It’s called ‘yaoi.’ Connie showed it to me.”

“Uh huh,” Peridot drawled, her discomfort growing with the amount of exposed skin onscreen, “Y’know what? I think this is an adequate juncture at which to conclude our viewing experience.”

“Are you sure?” Lapis enquired, “Amethyst helped me with this last bit. She had reference videos and everyth– “

“Yup! Totally sure!” Peridot exclaimed, alarm pitching her voice up an octave or two.

“Alright,” Lapis shrugged. The mirror-like sheen disappeared from her eyes, and the now-intense onscreen events vanished. The two Gems stared out at the countryside, distorted by the curtain of water before them, until Lapis dismissed the screen back into the pool.

“So,” she began, her arms still wrapped around Peri, ”Good gift?”

“Well,” Peridot said, “Your reimagining of one of the greatest episodes of the Camp Pining Hearts series was a commendable improvement. Though I have my concerns that the last part was inconsistent with the original’s tone and rating.” Her rant concluded, Peridot glanced up to find Lapis looking at her expectantly. Cheeks darkening slightly at her own rambling, Peridot squeezed her arms tighter around Lapis, standing on her tiptoes to rest her chin on her roommate’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Peridot murmured, “Good gift.”