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Rooftop	By : justalilwriter Category: Comics > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 6390 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no claim towards ownership of the characters, plot lines, or other related TMNT properties contained within this story. I can only claim to own my own original characters and as such this story is not being written for profit.

Chapter List
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Chapter 3: Coming Clean

The wait was going to drive him insane.
The pictures and text before his eyes seemed blurred when he simply couldn’t get either his gaze or even the full extent of his attention focused on the comic he’d been trying to read for the past hour or so. Neither the exploits of his favorite superheroes nor watching television had done much to hold his interest, not that there was much entertainment to be found in idle channel surfing anyway. There were a number of other things he could have done in order to pass the time, from playing a video game to whipping out his old skateboard, but for once not a single one of his preferred hobbies held any real appeal. When he actually began to consider the notion of reorganizing his comic collection, Michelangelo closed the thin pages of his present failed distraction and set it down on his bedside table with a weary groan. He rolled off of his bed, rotating his shoulder a bit after having spent the better part of several minutes laying on it, and left his room without bothering to turn off the light, having a feeling he might be returning to his personal space after he’d investigated things in the main room yet again.
“Aw man.”
The lair seemed altogether normal and even rather peaceful. It was mostly quiet with the television off, devoid of any significant sounds when there was no one visibly present on the couch or in the kitchen. He could hear Donatello in the little alcove he’d long ago taken up as his workshop, tinkering with some gadget or device that needed to be repaired most likely. The hint that his brother was keeping his hands busy was a welcome thing to listen to and yet in the almost silence the clink of a tool scraping against the work bench as it was picked up seemed nearly deafening when there were no other noises to mingle with it. At a late afternoon hour there were usually other things happening around the turtles’ home to serve as a reminder that there were multiple bodies residing in their secret abode beneath the city. He couldn’t hear his sensei watching one of the melodramatic ‘stories’ he’d grown so oddly fond of. He couldn’t detect the muffled thud of Raphael pummeling his newest sandbag. Not even the faintest whisper of Leonardo moving seamlessly through the katas he always strove to become better at or the light grind of him sharpening his blades to a deadly perfection resounded across the stone walls. The lair just seemed too empty without all the familiar white noise he’d gotten accustomed to hearing and the silence was made all the more frustrating when he knew very well why the stillness was there in the first place.
Mikey ran a hand over his face and upwards, across the top of his smooth head as he ambled his way in the direction of Donnie’s lab, mouth settled in to a frown of pure frustration, the look almost akin to a pout as he grabbed an empty stool and settled down on to it.
“They’ve been in there forever, Donnie! It’s driving me nuts!”
His brother didn’t look up from the workbench, face settled in to a near grimace of concentration as he stared down at the broken Shell-Cell he was endeavoring to fix, somehow managing to give the device the attention it required even while listening to his brother begin to vent his present aggravation. How the hell Donnie managed such patience was beyond Mikey’s comprehension at that moment.
“They’ll be out sooner or later.”
“It’s been ‘later’ for an hour! I’m bored out of my shell and not knowing what they’re talking about in there is just…UGH!”
He heard a slight chuckle from his brother and it did nothing to quell the mind-numbingly insistent curiosity plaguing Michelangelo’s thoughts, letting his feet tap impatiently against the rungs of the stool he currently occupied before he leaned back where he sat, gaze locking on the closed set of doors that had been taunting him for what felt like ages now. Master Splinter more often than not tended to keep his chamber open at least a crack; an unspoken invitation for his sons to seek council from him whenever they might need it. The occasions in which he locked himself away completely, questing for true privacy, were rare enough that seeing their sensei’s room being entirely closed off was hard to miss. The pale flicker of light and the scents of melted candle wax mixed with incense were lacking with those doors closed, but the thing that bothered Michelangelo most was the knowledge that something was going on in that room.
Something that involved two of his brothers.
The very same two brothers who had apparently had a fairly heated argument a few nights ago.
Perhaps a bit of peek wouldn’t hurt, so long as he was careful.
Mikey stood up and had scarcely even begun to step away from the stool when Donnie’s voice stopped him.
“Curiosity killed the cat, Mikey.”
“Good thing I’m a turtle then,” he responded, grinning in the same impishly cheerful way he always had.
“You know Master Splinter will figure it out if you try to eavesdrop and he won’t like it. Just give it a little while longer. We’ll find out what the three of them are talking about soon. Now, pass me that screw driver, would you, please? Ah! The Phillips, not the flat-head.”
Michelangelo passed the requested tool to his brother and sat back down on his stool, sighing.
“I just hate being in the dark, bro. I mean, Leo and Raph had that fight the other night and we still don’t know what it was about. Then they went topside without us yesterday and now they’re locked up with Sensei talking about…whatever it is they’re talking about.”
He didn’t want to outright say he was worried, but he was. Fights between Leonardo and Raphael were as common as foul smells in the sewers, but it had still been quite a while since the two of them had argued with any notable intensity. Whatever had set one or both off was still a subject that neither Michelangelo nor Donatello had been informed of as of yet and to see his brothers acting a bit strangely, almost tense in a way, was worrisome. Especially when they’d vanished for a night and then converged in to their father’s room for an extended period of time. Mikey hadn’t heard any raised voices coming from Master Splinter’s chamber, but it was a little rare for their sensei to yell unless it was for a very good reason. The almost eerie calm only added to his desire for answers and he just wished he had even a vague idea what the cause of the hidden discussion was. As much as he longed for an excuse to tease his siblings for getting in to some sort of trouble, especially Raphael, knowing that they were all right or that there wasn’t something more pressing bothering them mattered so much more. Leonardo and the rest may not have always taken him seriously, but there was no denying the empathetic nature Michelangelo possessed. When something was amiss amongst loved ones he always took notice even if his concern was shown more in silly comments or gestures to distract others from their troubles instead of fumbled attempts at playing therapist.
“What do you think it is anyway?”
“I honestly can’t say that I know. I’d rather not waste much time agonizing over what might be going on when Leo will probably clue us in once he thinks it’s necessary. If it was something really dire we’d have heard about it by now.”
“You aren’t even a little curious, though?”
“Of course I am. I’m just better at hiding it than you are.”
Mikey stilled the continued tapping of his foot, realizing that it only made for a perfect sign of his impatience, feeling the stirrings of a quip on his tongue die when the door to Splinter’s room began to slide open with an audible groan of aged metal. Forgetting his desire to retaliate against Donatello’s comment, Michelangelo shot off of his stool quick enough to nearly make it teeter to one side. Donnie reached out to steady it, setting aside his work to follow his more swiftly moving brother to the center of the main room where Leo and a slightly more disgruntled Raph awaited them.
“So what’s the word, big bro? Ten flips? No going topside for a week? What’d Raph even do?”
Raphael shouldered past Michelangelo with a near growl, a quick jump and a vault off of a nearby wall leading him up to the lair’s second level, where he inevitably disappeared from view. The successive pounding of fists hitting a punching bag soon filtered throughout the turtles’ home and the all too familiar indication of his brother’s ire made Michelangelo cringe, rubbing his arm where Raphael had shoved against it a moment before.
“What did happen, Leo? Raph being in a bad mood isn’t a new development, but he has been shorter than usual the past few days,” Donnie asked, voice laced with the concern he knew was felt by his other siblings.
“The other night when he went out, Raph had a run in with a human. It was by accident, but she saw him and they exchanged a few words, so it’s safe to say she’s well aware of him.”
“That…could be a big problem.”
“Yeah. I mean, random lady gets an eyeful of a mutant turtle…that’s kind of a big deal. Woah! Wait a sec!” Mikey’s brows shot upwards as he remembered one of the little details that Leo had offered thus far. “It happened a few nights ago and you guys just now told Master Splinter?! Man, I’m surprised he didn’t start yelling. And hey! Why didn’t you guys tell me and Donnie?”
While it was true that they were not without human friends, the turtles had never made it a point to expose themselves to other people unless it couldn’t be avoided. Living in secret was not always easy, particularly not for someone with Michelangelo’s energy and overall zest for life, but staying hidden was the best way to assure that they could live at least somewhat comfortably. Trust was something that couldn’t be given away as easily as business flyers on a street corner and with every new individual who came in to their lives there always stood a risk that something could go wrong. Fighting to protect the city’s population didn’t always guarantee that every person they saved was without a properly functional moral compass. People like April and Casey were blessings in their lives and had gained the turtles’ trust over many situations and years. The two were akin to family after so much time and while the prospect of another person they could rely on was welcome, it was something that had to become a certainty before any of the brothers or their sensei could feel at ease. The fact that such a big deal had been kept secret, even if only for a few days, made Michelangelo feel a little left out and even a little ticked off.
“Raph and I didn’t want to let any of you know, especially not Master Splinter, until we had a better idea of who we were dealing with.”
“And?”
“She seems…normal. Perfectly normal. From what she said to Raph, at least what I overheard, she sounds like she doesn’t want to cause him, and thus us, any trouble. I honestly can’t say that I’m positive if she’ll stay true to her word. At least not without speaking to her myself.”
“Is that the plan? Or did you need me to…”
Donatello trailed off, the way he held up his hands and gestured with his fingers, as if typing on a keyboard, offering an unspoken invitation to seek information on the woman in question if it happened to be deemed necessary. Leonardo shook his head to display a negative, gaze flicking from Donnie to the stairs leading to the second level, and his expression rather gave the idea that he was considering checking on Raphael, particularly when the sound of the sandbag taking a beating had only gotten more aggressive.
“I’m going to speak with her tonight. So far Raph is the only one she knows about and he’s not sure if he believes her yet even though he wants to. Master Splinter wants me to get a feel for her as well and depending on what I figure out, it’s possible we’ll be bringing her down here soon so Sensei can do the same.”
It made sense to let Leo sort things out and then leave the final decision up to their father. Master Splinter had always possessed some sort of sixth sense for understanding others and being able to see what type of person they were. If there was anyone who could tell if the woman in question was truly not a threat then it would be him, but arranging a meeting between the two couldn’t happen automatically. Having a go-ahead from Leonardo, who had learned to develop some of their sensei’s skills of perception, was a must before a stranger could be brought in to the lair.
“Do you want one of us to go with you tonight just in case?”
“Yes. Until we know her better none of us should be truly alone with her. Donnie, I’d like you to come along and keep a look out while I speak with her. In the meantime…”
Leo started off towards the stairs, no doubt to make his way to Raph’s room, and he didn’t stop until Mikey had moved past him quickly enough to rustle the ends of his brother’s mask. He turned once he’d reached the top, grinning the megawatt smile that was as common an occurrence as the tea their sensei drank every morning.
“If I’m staying behind tonight then I might as well keep Rage Machine Raphie company. ‘Sides, Leo, I’m pretty sure you’d just piss him off more right now.”
Michelangelo knew his chances of not irritating Raphael further were only marginally better than Leonardo’s or even Donatello’s for that matter, but he was more than willing to brave his hotheaded brother’s temper. As often as he might grumble over all the headlocks and smacks to the back of the head that Raph had delivered over the years in response to the teasing comments Mikey was so often prone to making, he’d long ago gotten used to it all. It was part of their routine to pick at each other, make playful jabs, and give each other a hard time. As troubled as his sibling was, it was probable that he either needed space or some light joshing to get his mind off of things rather than the well-meaning or analytical sense the others could offer. Leo seemed to relent to the idea, nodding his head as he headed back down the stairs, walking off with Donnie to discuss the plans for that evening as Mikey meandered in the direction of all the noise with his arms folded behind his head. Making an effort to be casual could most likely set Raphael off even more, but when his brother’s temper was raging almost anything could make it worse.
When he stepped in to the open doorway of Raphael’s room, Mikey couldn’t say he was surprised to see the usual clutter of weights and empty cans on the floor and he was hardly shocked by the ferocity in which Raph’s fists were hitting the punching bag, sending it swinging with the impact of every blow thrown.
“Man, what did it do? Insult our mom? Tell you that red is a crappy color? Which it is, by the way. Orange is way better.”
“Fuck off, Mikey,” came the expected response, spoken in the gruff tone Michelangelo had been anticipating.
“Just sayin’, bro. You’re knocking it pretty hard, so I’m thinking this one won’t last any longer than the last one.”
“That supposed to stop me?”
Raphael began to pound the bag even harder, as if trying to prove a point to his brother; that he didn’t care if he pummeled the damn thing until it ripped open. Like the punching bag, Raph seemed damn near ready to come apart at the seams, lost within the single sighted fury that could often take hold of him. Usually, going off in to one of his rages tended to leave his brother feeling regret for whatever harsh words or actions the more severe of his temperamental episodes caused and Michelangelo didn’t want to see Raph suffering any more remorse than he already seemed to be. Perhaps Master Splinter, with his wisdom and predilection for using poetic metaphors that somehow always made sense, was the best person to fully pull Raph out of his black mood, but somebody had to step in and calm the worst of his anger. Leonardo had his sense and Donatello his patience, but Michelangelo knew when his own personal brand of relaxed comfort was needed the most.
“No. Better the punching bag than me. You know I bruise easy.”
“And you scream like a girl.”
“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m delicate! Comes with the territory when you’re this good looking.”
He heard a chuckle as Raph gave the Everlast bag one final punch, striking it for all he was worth, and then catching it to keep it from swinging too close to the nearby wall. Raphael panted for a moment, trying to catch his breath, and appearing even a little surprised by how winded he’d gotten, as if finally realizing how much energy he’d spent on his anger. He let the bag go, wiping his hand across the back of his brow even though he’d hardly broken much of a sweat, settling down across his weight bench. Taking the unspoken welcome, even if it wasn’t really there, Mikey made his way around the back, looking down at Raph with a smile that showed no sign that he’d been even remotely fazed by the violent display he’d just watched. He helped lift the weight bar from the rack, easing the full heaviness into Raphael’s waiting hands, watching the bar come up and down, the motions enunciated by the occasional grunt from his sibling.
“So, what did Sensei say? You not allowed to go above sewer level for a while? That why Leo and Donnie are going to meet up with the mystery girl?”
“Dammit, Mikey, ya just hadda ask, didn’t you?”
“Better while you’re lifting weights and you can’t get away.”
Raph groaned, perhaps out of both frustration and physical strain, brow furrowed as he remained silent for a few moments, holding off on answering until he seemed to have decided that he may as well give in to the inevitable questioning. Being annoyingly persist, Michelangelo had learned, really paid off sometimes.
“I ain’t restricted or anythin’ like that. Master Splinter wasn’t happy, but I guess he figured I didn’t fuck up on purpose or hell, maybe it was because Leo vouched for me. Said he didn’t think from what he’d overheard that the girl was bad news.”
“But you’re kinda ticked off that he’s still sending Leo to double check before he meets her to make sure himself?”
“I’m ticked off, because we’ve gotta do this shit in the first place. Wouldn’t have to worry about some broad bein’ a problem if I’d had my head together.”
Michelangelo took the bar from his brother when Raph seemed ready to quit, the heaviness passed slowly from one set of hands to the next until it was safely settled on the rack once again. There was no longer any questioning what it was that had set Raphael off now and no further guessing needed to discern just why he’d been so furious. All of the turtles took family very seriously and there was nothing more important to any of them than protecting one another regardless of all the dysfunctions that their little unit possessed. He may still have been prone to storming off in to the night to blow off steam and butting heads with his brothers, particular Leonardo, but after the Winters incident a few years back Raph had begun to express a fair deal more accountability for his actions; at least when it was possible that they could cause harm to his loved ones. Leo’s brief capture had changed him a little, so it was no wonder he seemed to be beating himself up so thoroughly over slipping up and being seen by a stranger.
“Don’t worry about it, bro. We all screw up. Even Leo does sometimes. But we always get things figured out, right? If this chick you met is gonna be any trouble then we’ll all handle it together. If not then that’s just one more new person to add to our inner circle. Oh! Hang on! Is she hot? Like on a scale of one to April, where would you put her?”
“Why don’t you just wait and find out when she gets here? If she gets here anyway.”
“Aw man! Just give me a little bit of a mental picture, Raph! I won’t get to meet her for a whole freaking day! The wait is gonna drive me nuts!”
“All right, Mikey. I’ll give ya this. She’s got hair.”
“Dude, that is such a cheap shot. Come oooon!”
Raph let out a low chuckle, clearly amused by his brother’s insistent curiosity, and when Michelangelo felt himself being pulled in to a familiar headlock, he knew he’d given Raphael the sort of support he’d needed.

~ ~

“You are evil. I loathe and despise you. It would bring me great joy to see you destroyed.”
The look in Erin’s hazel eyes was nothing sort of icy, her brows tightly knit and her lips pressed in to a hard line that masked their usual fullness. Her expression showcased her disdain to the fullest extent; an altogether tangible loathing.
“If you hadn’t cost so much damn money you’d be in the trash right now.”
She dropped the high heel she’d been holding in her grasp, hearing it clatter against the wooden floor where it fell to rest beside its twin before she allowed gravity to drag her backwards across the welcoming cushion of her bed and the down comforter resting atop it. While she hadn’t actually checked to be certain, she was fairly sure that she had a blister on her heel or that, at the very least, the skin had been rubbed a little raw after spending all day wearing the most uncomfortable pair of shoes in her closet.
“I am never letting Annette talk me in to buying a pair of shoes ever again.”
Sundays had to be her second most hated day of the work week. While Mondays topped her list due to how non-stop busy they tended to be, Sundays were agonizing simply due to the fact that they lasted for what felt like forever. A twelve hour shift on a day with a consistently low call volume usually caused time to pass very slowly and more often than not the few calls that did come in were typically escalations. With so few people in the office, big issues on the weekends tended to be harder to resolve, particularly where any sorts of service outages were concerned, and while Erin was glad that she had ample time to relax between calls, she absolutely hated how long it took for her shift to end. If there was any way she could picture purgatory being, it would most likely be a seemingly unending shift in an overly air conditioned call center with call after call from annoyed customers.
“Uhhhhh,” the woman groaned tiredly, rolling over on to her stomach for a moment only to push herself off of the bed.
A hot bath and dinner sounded lovely before bed, but first and foremost she wanted to change in to some comfortable clothing, bending over to strip off the stockings she’d had on beneath her dress. As luck would have it a quick assessment showed that she didn’t have a blister on her foot as she’d thought, rubbing her fingers across the back of her heal a few times before she tugged off her small cardigan and began rooting through her dresser for some nightclothes to wear. She settled on pair of boxers and a baggy t-shirt she’d gotten from work, shaking her head a bit after loosening her hair from the ponytail she’d kept it in all day. A quick glance in her mirror showed that the strands looked a little extra wavy due to having been pulled back for the past several hours and as she leaned in closer to see how much her eyeliner may have smudged over the course of her evening she noticed the unmistakable sound of something tapping on her window.
“What the hell?”
Erin didn’t think she’d imagined it, expression a bit confounded as she turned away from the mirror to stare at the window, unable to see outside with her curtains drawn shut. For a moment she opted to wait, trying to see if she’d hear the sound again, and when she didn’t hear anything after several seconds, she moved forward to investigate, drawing her curtains back. The window seemed to want to stick for a moment when she tried opening it, causing her to grunt a bit with the effort of pushing it up, greeted by the partial silence of the alley as she set her hands against the sill and leaned outside to take a gander around.
“Hello.”
A voice so close by was not what she’d expected and the large, shadowed shape standing just a few steps away startled her half to death. Erin gasped and yanked her head back in surprise, hearing the hard bang of the back of her skull smacking against the window frame as vividly as she’d felt it, scrunching her eyes shut at the pain that bloomed through her cranium. She lowered her neck further, making sure to maneuver beneath the obstacle when she slipped back in to her bedroom, hissing as she gingerly touched the smarting spot where she’d hurt herself. A careful grazing of her fingertips parting through the strands of her hair told her that she’d more than likely end up developing a lump from the blow.
“Ow! Fucking son of a-UGGHH! God, that freaking hurts!”
She hadn’t realized just how many steps back she’d taken from the sill until she’d cracked her eyes open at the sound of movement slipping through her window, staring down at the floor to see green feet beside her own on the carpet. A hand, one with two large fingers and a thumb, settled cautiously on her shoulder in what she figured was meant to be comforting, smiling through the pain at the indication that maybe her rooftop friend had decided she wasn’t all that bad. Or maybe he just felt guilty for nearly killing her once and then making her bash her damn skull in on another occasion. Either way, having him show up, at her home no less this time, was a nice, if not perplexing, surprise.
“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that, Ra-”
Erin lifted her line of sight and felt her voice trailing off at what she saw.
Or rather whom.
“Ra…Random turtle who I’ve never seen before,” she finished lamely, biting her lower lip.
She knew it wasn’t Raphael standing before her. Even in the darker area above her apartment she’d been able to tell that the turtle she knew possessed a skin tone in a deeper hue of green than the turtle standing before her, staring at her through the slits of his blue mask with what looked like apology in his brown eyes. He looked strong, built sternly, but he didn’t seem as thick with muscle as Raphael had appeared, possessing a number of tiny differences which distinguished him from the terrapin she was more familiar with. Unable to help the reaction, Erin moved away from him, clenching her hands in to fists out of tension, and she didn’t even register the alarm she had to be expressing on her face until he held up his hands, attempting to look as non-threatening as a giant turtle with swords on his back could.
“Oh god, he’s got swords! Holy crap!”
Her visitor noticed rather quickly when her eyes turned towards the visible hilts of the blades strapped to the back of his shell, shaking his head as he lowered his hands to his sides in an indication that he wouldn’t reach for the armaments he carried.
“You don’t have to be scared. I promise I would never turn my blades on an innocent person. You have my word.”
“That’s…uhm…good to know. Thanks. I guess.”
How she was supposed to trust the words of a total stranger was something she didn’t know, but she supposed in retrospect she didn’t necessarily have any reason not to believe him. After all, she had quite recently found herself trying to convince a completely different turtle that he could trust her not to do him any harm. Perhaps not giving the benefit of the doubt to the second giant talking turtle she’d ever met would have been slightly hypocritical and his words had sounded fairly sincere. It wasn’t as if she’d really expected to meet another being like Raphael, though, let alone with a minor head injury as an added and altogether uncomfortable bonus. Try as she might to relax, Erin couldn’t will the wariness she felt to fade from her appearance, managing at best to unclench her fists.
“So if you aren’t here to use those intimidating suckers on your shell then is there a reason you decided to show up out of the blue and make me hurt myself? Or were you trying to compete with Raphael in this new ‘give Erin a heart attack’ thing that seems to be popular all of a sudden?”
“No. Nothing of the sort. I’m sorry for scaring you. Is your head all right?”
“Yeah. Hurts, but I’ll live. You do know Raphael, though, right? I mean, I don’t want to assume just because you’re both talking turtles, but…”
He smiled lightly and the lack of falseness in the expression coupled with the amazing aura of calm he seemed to possess gave Erin cause to smile a bit herself, a little surprised by how different this new turtle seemed in comparison to her not-quite-friend from the other night. She’d hardly seen Raphael smile, the only thing close he’d allowed himself to display being a smirk or grin, usually fairly short-lived to boot.
“I’m Leonardo. Raphael is my brother.”
“He didn’t mention you either time that we’ve spoken and I guess I can understand why not. He didn’t really seem too fond of me both times that we talked.”
“It’s nothing against you personally, ma’am.”
“Erin,” she corrected, having never been particularly fond of being addressed as either a ‘ma’am’ or a ‘miss’.
“Erin. Sorry. I know Raph told you that he, or rather we, never go out of our way to expose ourselves to strangers. Keeping you in the dark about the rest of us was his way of trying to keep the family safe in case you turned out to be dangerous.”
“The rest of us? There are more than just you two?”
Just how many big turtles were there living in New York City? The prospect that there were others, that she’d only just brushed the surface of the city’s hidden secrets, made Erin feel briefly like she couldn’t even keep standing, uncertain of how she’d managed to stay upright with the new tidbit of information. There were things about Raphael alone she didn’t know or understand as of yet, let alone about however many members of his family there happened to be, and she wasn’t wholly certain what to feel. The young woman wavered between shock and amazement, staring at Leonardo with wide eyes and an undeniable hope for answers where Raphael quite likely would have offered none. Not when he didn’t seem to trust her.
“Why are you telling me this? If Raphael didn’t want me to know about anyone other than him then why are you here? Doesn’t that kinda defeat the purpose of him not telling me anything?”
“In a sense, yes. My meeting you is pretty risky in and of itself.”
Erin nodded her head and waited for him to elaborate further when he paused, looking a bit uncomfortable and leaving her all the more anxious for whatever explanations he saw fit to give.
“Is it all right if we sit for a moment while we talk? It feels a bit…awkward discussing this in your bedroom.”
“Oh! Yeah, that’s fine. The living room is this way.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant by ‘awkward’, but decided to just figure that it wasn’t very often that Leonardo found himself hanging around in a woman’s bedroom. Bedrooms were usually private places after all. Erin hoped that she hadn’t left any of her panties or something equally embarrassing laying out in plain sight for him to see, blushing a bit in unspoken mortification at the thought as she led him out in to the small living room.
“Sit wherever. Did you want something to drink?”
“Water will be fine. Thank you.”
Erin grabbed an unopened bottle of water from the fridge and a can of off-brand soda for herself, tossing him the cool beverage which he unsurprisingly caught without any trouble, pulling the tab to open her drink as she settled down on the arm chair near the couch. She hadn’t realized that she’d instinctively taken the seat furthest from Leonardo, who had settled on the couch, until he commented on it.
“You don’t have to worry. I meant what I said about not drawing my weapons on you and that extends to the rest of me. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Raphael had reassured her of the very same thing, on two occasions no less during their first meeting, and it struck her in that moment that these turtles she’d quite literally stumbled in to had probably grown accustomed to people being afraid of them from the get go. She’d been having trouble letting herself relax fully in the two instances where she’d been near Raphael, despite having told herself that she wouldn’t let her wariness get the better of her, and having his brother reaffirm that he was no threat put her back at ease. Different didn’t mean dangerous and she couldn’t help feeling all the more sure of that fact now that she’d encountered two turtles who, though prone to scaring the hell out of her, didn’t want to hurt her even despite the threat she apparently presented. Erin smiled and took a swig of her soda before setting it down on a coaster atop the low coffee table, daring to get up from the chair and join Leonardo on the couch.
“Your brother said so too. And I told him the same thing right back, though I guess you guys have more reason not to believe me then I have not to believe you.”
“Then you understand why I came here to see you? At least partly anyway.”
“Because Raphael doesn’t really trust me to keep the promise I made?”
“Yes. He wants to believe you, but it’s hard to be sure of a person you hardly know. Like I said before, I wouldn’t take the way he acted around you personally. It’s not so much that he doesn’t like you as he’s just bothered that he met you in the first place.”
“That’s good to know. I think.”
Erin wasn’t really sure how she felt about that particular tidbit of information. She couldn’t really say she’d ever heard of someone having regretted meeting her in the first place, it was a little hard not to take it personally regardless of Leonardo’s reassurances.
“I wanted to make certain for myself that you really do seem trustworthy and see if there is a reason for Raph to want to believe you even if he won’t let himself yet.”
“And? Have you reached a verdict yet?”
“Well, you scored some points giving me an unopened bottle of water. Having the thought to give me a drink that you clearly haven’t tampered with in order to make me feel more comfortable was considerate of you.”
Erin felt herself shake a bit with a short, silent chuckle and a brief headshake, wondering if he was always so overly analytical about every little action or gesture someone else made. She hated to correct him, but she didn’t want him to go on seeing something that hadn’t been present in the first place.
“Uhm. You’re kinda looking in to things a little more than I did. I just gave you bottled because it’s colder than what you’d get out of the tap.”
Leonardo turned his head and looked at her, his stare lingering on her face at length for several quiet moments. It was just long enough to make Erin want to squirm under the scrutiny, finding that his stare was no less intense than Raphael’s, but rather more probing than angry. The look made Erin feel as if he was reading every little detail of her face for signs of falsehood, unable to force her expression in to something impassive when she felt so uncomfortable with being watched so intently. What was he looking for and for that matter what was he seeing? She found herself experiencing even more bafflement when he actually smiled after a time, setting the bottled water he’d never even opened on to one of the table coasters before he stood.
“You could’ve let me just think that you had put thought in to your actions. Admitting that you hadn’t was the sort of honesty I was hoping for.”
Erin admittedly hadn’t expected him to say something like that, tilting her head a bit as she stared up at him in a continued state of bewilderment.
“Uhm…’kay then…Did I just pass some sort of truth test?”
“Basically, yes.”
“And did you just come up with it on the fly or something?”
“Essentially.”
Well, wasn’t he a clever one. Erin decided to focus less on how the hell one comes up with a water bottle truth assessment on the fly and instead fixated on the more important details.
“So does that mean you believe I’m not gonna start shouting from the rooftops about giant turtles?”
“A little more than I did previously. But there’s only one way to know for certain.”
Erin wasn’t sure if she was glad to hear that he had a bit more faith in her or if she was frustrated to learn that she still apparently had something left to prove, sighing out her weariness while leaning her cheek against her upraised hand.
“From what Raph said you’ll be working tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah. Until 10. I’m supposed to go to the gym with a friend right after work, though, so I probably won’t be home until around 11 or 11:30-ish. Why?”
“We’ll be back tomorrow night. I’ll try to make sure no one surprises you when they show up.”
“I appreciate the heads up, but what exactly is happening when you come by tomorrow night?”
Leonardo didn’t answer her, instead moving away from the couch and back in to the nearby bedroom. Erin scrambled off of her seat, feeling more than a little exasperated that he hadn’t answered her questions as she moved to follow him.
“Hey!”
When she reached her bedroom doorway she discovered that her room was empty, with only the open window and the floating of her curtains against the slight breeze to remind her that she’d recently invited a surprise guest in to her home. The brunette crossed her arms, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe as she stared at the window, wondering what the next evening would have in store for her.

A/N: Meeting the family next chapter! Whoo hoo! Sorry if this story is moving a bit slowly for you guys, but I like taking my time building up towards the friendship that’s coming and the actual romance coming after that.
Many thanks to those of you who were kind enough to leave reviews. I’m so glad to hear your feedback and I think in future chapters I’ll leave notes at the end of each installment answering your comments. J
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