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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Notes from the author: Long time, no update, right? I am so sorry that I pretty much abandoned this story for so long. I had a bit of a struggle with writing and inspiration, not to mention a crisis of wondering if this fanfic was simply too dull to continue.
But I'm back and even though this chapter is probably an awful bore, I hope you all enjoy it and I'm going to try to update much, much faster from here on out. I know I probably have a few errors that need to be corrected, but I really wanted to get the chapter out to you all sooner rather than later since the wait for an update was so long.
I also made a tumblr for this story! If you guys want to check out status updates or see doll maker versions of what Erin looks like, give me a follow! My tumblr SN is justalilwriterblog.)

Chapter 7: Torment of the Textual Kind

The air smelled like bacon grease and the lack of smoke alone was enough to tell Donatello that either Mikey or Raph had started cooking breakfast. Or perhaps lunch was the better word to use given that it was getting to be well in to the early afternoon.
As mutant vigilantes it wasn’t entirely uncommon for Donnie and his brothers to be awake throughout most of the night, doing their part in helping to keep the city streets safe before they turned in to rest, certain to either rise early for training or sleep a bit late to rejuvenate. Leo in particular tended to wake up early every day regardless, the lair quiet as he dedicated time to meditation or perfecting his skills; ever the devoted student. If there was nothing to wake them, Mikey and Raph could sleep for hours, their snores resonating from behind their closed off rooms, with either the sound of a radio being flipped on or the scent of food being cooked tipping everyone off to the fact that one of the two had risen for the day. Donnie, so often prone to staying up throughout the night to fix or study something, had learned to get an idea of who was up when based on what he heard going on beyond his personal workspace. The fact that nothing seemed to be on fire was a definite indication that someone other than Leo had gotten up. Their fearless leader was many things, but a good cook had never been one of them.
The way that the food smelled had Donatello’s stomach grumbling, reminding him that he was hungry and hadn’t eaten for several hours, his attention so focused on his work that he hadn’t stepped out of his little enclave to raid the fridge. The thought of setting his work aside was tempting, very tempting, but he resisted the urge when he caught the all too familiar scent of coffee brewing, a small smile working its way across his face.
It was definitely Mikey in the kitchen. Raph cooked for everyone when he made breakfast, not nearly as inconsiderate as he may have liked to act sometimes, but Mikey was the person who always remembered to refill the coffee pot.
“Hey bro.”

Sure enough, just as Donatello had predicted, Michelangelo’s head appeared in the archway, an egg and bacon sandwich in his hand, already half eaten.
“Want me to bring you a plate of grub?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Mikey. A cup of coffee too once it’s done. Put it on the work bench behind me. I’ll eat once I finish fixing this laptop.”
Mikey disappeared, leaving Donatello to continue along in his work, wondering all the while why anyone would take their computer to a repair technician for something as simple as replacing the fan. Not that he could complain to have work when pc repair earned him a decent bit of money. He’d given up his tech support job once he and his brothers had resumed their crime fighting activities a few years ago, so he’d had to find an alternate means of making a living that didn’t consume quite as much of his time as his prior job. While he’d managed to get their lair outfitted in a manner that provided power, clean water, and other such necessities, there were still needs that he and his family had which required money, such as groceries and medicine. It was definitely difficult to get by when one couldn’t simply get a desk job, what with being a giant turtle and all, but everyone managed. Donnie counted himself lucky that April had been willing to let him advertise PC repair in her antique store. She made for an excellent intermediary in his work and he’d forever be thankful for the ways she helped out.
“Here ya go. Eggs, bacon, and toast with a side of coffee as black as the Shredder’s soul.”
Donnie chuckled and waved a hand in thanks without turning to face his brother, hearing the plastic plate and ceramic mug slide across the table behind him. He felt Mikey’s presence linger, guessing his brother was probably eyeballing some of the clutter on his work bench, but the other turtle left before he could be told not to mess with anything, leaving Donatello alone for just a few minutes. He heard a few doors opening one after the other, along with Raphael’s deep yawning and the tapping of Master Splinter’s cane across the floor, assuming everyone else was about to enjoy their ‘breakfast for lunch’ at the kitchen table. He was intent on joining them in a short while, having little more to do than tighten a few screws and replace the laptop’s casing before he gave the machine a quick test, eyes on the prize so to speak even when Leo joined him.
“Pulled another all-nighter, Don?”
“Yeah. Wanted to get this done so I can get it to April’s shop by this evening. Should be finished in a second.”
“Why don’t you get a little sleep once you’re done? I can wake you up before it’s time to go over to April’s.”
“Patrol tonight?”
“A short one since it’s a Sunday. Unless you managed to come across any significant information.”
“Actually…”
Donnie set his screw driver aside once he’d finished securing the casing of the computer before him, swiveling in his chair to click his mouse a few times, bringing his computer out of idle status. Leo moved to stand beside his chair, mindful of where he put his hand when he leaned it against the computer desk, not wanting to accidentally knock over any of the various tools settled upon the surface, eyes trained on the glowing screen.
“I came across a missing persons report that I think you’ll want to see,” Donnie explained, pulling up the information he knew his brother would be interested in. “Look familiar?”
Leo stared at the face on the screen for a second or two, knowing the person on the page before him was familiar, eyes widening in recognition.
“He was one of the initiates we came across on Friday. The one that Mikey knocked out.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t find any information about his friend, the boy we interrogated, being missing, but I thought it seemed pretty suspicious. He may have run away from home for all we know, but…it could mean something.”
“Whatever it means can’t be good. Especially with the Purple Dragons being involved.”
“So what do you want to do, Leo? It’s been a while since I’ve checked, but I can try to see if there are any updates about the case or maybe if there’ve been possible sightings of the kid.”
“You can do that later, Donnie.”
Leo examined the information on the computer screen for a moment longer before he turned to his brother, setting a hand on Donnie’s shoulder as he offered a small smile, the expression both warm and well-meaning.
“Eat something and get some sleep, okay? You can check for updates once you’ve gotten some shut eye.”
He could always depend on Leo to worry and though it was in him to want to protest a little when he wanted to check up on things now, Donnie felt that there wasn’t any point to shrugging off his brother’s concern. Now that he’d finished fixing the laptop he’d been tending to and had only a quick test to do to ensure it was working correctly, fatigue had finally started to creep up inside of him, weariness made all the more pronounced by hunger. He could still smell the bacon and eggs on the nearby plate, certain to still be producing steam, and decided he’d do what Leo said. After all, his brother always meant well and when he was right, he was right.
“Let me give April a call first to let her know that we’ll be by tonight.”
Donnie turned his chair and reached out towards the work bench, his hand stopping short of reaching the surface when he realized that the item he was going for was nowhere to be found.
“Where’s my phone?”

~ ~

“I’m about two seconds from kicking this thing.”
For the second time in a single week the same damn vending machine had stolen her money and left her without a single drop of soda for her trouble. A completely irrational part of her brain wanted to cite that there may have been some sort of lunchroom conspiracy going on, designed by members of the maintenance staff at work in order to steal her money, but she knew the lack of caffeine in her system was likely the cause of such absurd notions. Having gotten a good night’s sleep wasn’t quite enough to keep a person awake during a tedious work day, especially not a day as slow as Sunday when calls were scarce and usually annoying whenever they did actually come in. Sitting around for several minutes at a time yawning as she watched the clock was a dull extreme while trying to calm a grumpy customer prone to lobbing curses her way was another altogether and enduring them without a soda or coffee in her system felt like torture.
“Of course come tomorrow when we’re busy as hell, I’ll be wishing it was a slow Sunday,” Erin thought, sighing as she leaned her head against the vending machine which seemed so intent on trying to spite her.
She heard the soft shuffle of footsteps over linoleum as someone walked in to the break room, her hopes lifting marginally as a familiar co-worker meandered inside, dragging his thumb across the touchscreen of his fancy cell phone.
“Paaaaatrick,” she whined, her voice about as pitiful as she was sure her expression might have been.
“Machine ate your dollar again?”
Patrick was grinning even while he kept his gaze on his phone, accustomed to having to swoop to the rescue whenever the Coke machine opted to become exceptionally greedy. Many a day tended to pass in which somebody asked him to help the diabolical device cooperate and Erin, in all her misfortune, seemed to need his aid the most.
“Of course it did. It wouldn’t be a complete work week unless this thing was trying to rob me of my spare cash.”
“It does seem to like your money best, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. Lucky me.”
Erin stepped aside and waited, watching Patrick hit the front of the machine with the side of his fist as he always did. She heard the opening of a hatch and the thud of a soda bottle dropping in to the exit space, eagerly tugging the beverage free in order to twist off the cap.
“I swear it doesn’t matter how many times I hit it or try the coin return, it just never works for me.”
“Guess I just have the magic touch then, don’t I?”
The brunette took a much craved swig of her carbonated drink, letting out a tiny, pleased gasp at the feel of something cool and fizzy sliding down her throat, swearing she felt better already.
“How about giving me a little bit of the magic, so I can stop being s.o.l. whenever you have a day off?”
“No can do, milady. My magic touches are reserved for soda machines and my wife.”
He finally looked up from his cell phone, watching Erin take another drink of her Coke as he fed a few quarters to the vending machine, his drink dropping down without any trouble, annoyingly enough.
“You all set now? Gonna go get a quick smoke in and call Zoey.”
“Yeah. I’m good now. Thanks, Patrick.”
“Any time.”
He grabbed his soda and gave Erin a nod, lightly swinging his bottle back and forth as he headed out through the nearby doors to give his wife a ring as he’d said, leaving Erin alone in the break room. During the week the area would’ve typically been heavily occupied at almost all hours with people hitting up the machines or waiting for use of one of the microwaves, chatting about customers as they filled up the chairs at the handful of white tables situated throughout the space. Sometimes Erin was glad to have more people to sit around and eat lunch with, vent to during one of her shorter breaks, but on other occasions she was simply thankful for the quiet. It gave her time to just relax before she went back on the phone and dealt with a sea of chatter until her shift ended.
She certainly couldn’t say she hated her job.
There were some notable frustrations that came with being a customer service representative and it wasn’t what she wanted to do for the rest of her life for certain, but she knew all things considered that there were worse careers to have. It paid decently, allowed her paid time off and benefits, and she got along very well with a number of her co-workers. As much as she could gripe about it, find it undeniably stressful and downright tedious, it was a suitable enough position to hold until she could decide what she wanted to do long term; figure out what her dream career might be. The bills had to get paid somehow and while the customers she spoke to didn’t always treat her well, the company itself had thus far. It was definitely a plus to boot that she could at least be comfortable on a day as sluggishly paced as Sunday tended to be, happy to have a lesser number of supervisors around to make sure no one was fiddling with their cell phones at their work stations or to complain about dress codes. Being able to come to work in a pair of jeans and a red company t-shirt was something she wished she could enjoy throughout the whole work week.
“Yo yo ninja boy. Go go ninja boy. Yo yo ninja boy. Go go ninja boy.”
The trill of the unfamiliar music drew Erin out of her brief reverie and she set her soda down on a nearby table before she reached in to her back pocket, temporarily puzzled by the Less Than Jake song playing before she remembered who she’d set the ringtone for in specific. Donatello’s name appeared on her screen, reminding her that she had recently gotten his number, and she found that she was already smiling as she pressed the button to answer the call, holding the phone to her ear.
“Donnie?”
“Close, but not quite. It’s your favorite turtle.”
“Donnie?” Erin reiterated with a devious little smirk on her face.
“That’s cold, dudette. Really cold.”
She heard sniffling on the other end of the line, causing her to snicker at the melodramatic mock sobbing she was listening to as she pulled a chair out from under a table and took a seat.
“Seriously, though. Is Donnie actually your favorite turtle? Cause I might cry for real if it’s not me.”
“Aww. No turtle tears, Mikey. I promise I don’t have a favorite. Haven’t known you guys long enough to pick yet.”
“Buuuut if you were going to pick a favorite now…”
“It’d probably be whoever gave me chocolate next time I see them.”
“Don’t most people make it a point to say you can’t buy affection?”
“Whoever says that greatly underestimates the power of a Milky Way.”
The comment got her a laugh, the sound completely jovial and unabashedly so. If there was one thing she had come to learn about Michelangelo it was that he appreciated good humor and was hardly one to hold back his laughter when he found something amusing. There was a casual way about the blue eyed turtle that made him incredibly easy to talk to, made him feel relatable or about as relatable as a turtle could possibly be. Not knowing him well didn’t seem to be an issue as far as being comfortable chatting with him went and Erin liked that he was so approachable. She was still trying to get a feel for Leo and even Donnie to a lesser extent while Raph, though she found herself quite fond of him, was still a whole other ball game altogether with his chaotic temperament. Thus far, Mikey felt the most like a close friend rather than a just new one and she could only hope she’d feel the same towards his brothers soon, particularly the hot head who had brought all of them in to her life in the first place.
She couldn’t bring herself to admit it to Michelangelo, but if she really did have to pick a favorite, she couldn’t help the impulse to lean towards Raphael. Maybe it was because she’d met him first. Or perhaps giving him a nickname had already tethered a certain degree of attachment to Raph that she hadn’t fully developed towards his siblings quite yet despite feeling so at ease with Mikey. She supposed it was sort of difficult not to feel a special bond with someone who had almost caused yet also stopped her from becoming a messy pavement smear.
“So what are you doing with Donnie’s phone anyhow?”
“You told us Sunday is one of your work days, so I ninja sneaked it from him. Probably have about five minutes before he realizes it too. But now I know what your number is, so I can still keep you entertained even after Donnie takes his phone back.”
“I’ve only got ten minutes before I’ve gotta get back on the clock, sadly. But I’ll appreciate all the entertainment I can get until then.”
“I can always just text you when you’re on the phones. Might make your day go by faster. Time flies when you’re having fun the Mikey way.”
“We’re slow today, so it might be all right. As long as you don’t text me anything too funny. I’m pretty sure cackling in callers’ ears would get me fired.”
“But I’ve got some great bad jokes. Like this one: why did the turtle cross the road?”
“No clue.”
“To get to the Shell station.”
“Oh man, Mikey, that is so bad.”
She knew he could probably hear the smile in her voice despite what she’d said, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her grin even though it wasn’t as if Michelangelo could see it.
“Awesomely bad, babe. And I’ve got tons more where that came from.”
Erin didn’t doubt that he did have a deep well of cheesy jokes that he was just waiting to send her way and she wasn’t entirely sure her sides would be able to handle them if he did share any while she was on the phones, though between calls didn’t sound so bad. As lively as Mikey was, even just over the phone, he seemed to have a certain knack for making idle time pass by with less tedium.
“Besides, if you get fired, you can just take up fighting crime with us. I’ll bet you’d really rock a mask and a pair of knee pads.”
“I doubt that’d get my bills paid and your brother only just showed me how to throw a proper punch the other night. I don’t think I’d be much help.”
She’d never seen the turtles in action before, not really, so she couldn’t fully vouch for their skills. There was something to be said for how fit they were and their impressive ability to sneak up on someone without being detected, but she’d only heard stories about how strong they were. Splinter had been teaching them for years and they’d apparently been maintaining a near constant vigilance over the city well before she’d ever moved in to it, so that had to account for some remarkable talent. In the past ninjas had been both historical and fictional to her, the stuff that books and movies were filled with, rather than something one might encounter in real life, so she supposed there was a tiny part of her that didn’t wholly believe it yet. It didn’t make any sense not to since it had become hard not to imagine truth in seemingly unreal things when she’d befriended four talking turtles and a rat, but perhaps the difficulty she had fully grasping the scale of what the brothers could do was just a reminder that her life had become so very, very different now. Even at that time, with the turtles as friends she wanted to get to know better, it seemed like she’d have to keep taking baby steps in adapting to the changes which her encounter on the rooftop with Raphael had brought.
“Okay. Maybe you can just cheer for us from the sidelines. If you wanted, Sensei could probably show you a thing or two like he did for April. Even if you’re not gonna be doing what we do it never hurts to know the basics, ya know?”
“Aw, listen to you being all sweet and concerned, Mikey.”
“Yeah. Ain’t I great?”
He really was, particularly for putting thought in to something as simple as making sure she could keep herself safe when he’d hardly even knew her still. She really did appreciate the consideration despite not feeling like the lessons he’d suggested were entirely necessary.
“Hey, Mikey, have you seen…Wait, is that Donnie’s phone?”
The voice was in the background on Michelangelo’s end of the call, but Erin could hear it well enough to discern what was being said.
“Uhm…no?”
“Who are you talking to?”
“No worries, bro. It’s just Erin.”
“Isn’t she at work right now?”
“She…might be?”
The way Michelangelo’s voice trailed off uncertainly made him sound like he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar and Erin had a feeling the turtle was in trouble, hoping it wouldn’t be too severe. She couldn’t hear what was said next, the sound of friction against the mouth piece making her guess that someone was covering the phone with their hand, a few moments of a muffled exchange passing before the line cleared up again.
“Erin?”
The voice was different, clearly not Michelangelo, and it was distinctive enough in sound that she knew who it was right away.
“Hey, Leo. I didn’t just get Mikey in trouble, did I?”
“No. I was about to apologize that he’d called you while you’re at work, but it sounds like you’re not upset.”
“Nah. I’m on a break right now. Honestly, he’s been helping me stay sane the past few minutes, so I don’t mind at all. Don’t holler at him too much, okay? At least not on my account.”
“Maybe for sneaking away with Donnie’s phone then,” Leo agreed, his tone no longer apologetic and hardly sounding angry; polite yet still friendly, as she’d come to expect thus far from the turtles’ leader. “Are you busy when you finish work tonight by any chance?”
“Not really, no. Why?”
“Donnie has to take a repaired computer to April’s place tonight. You remember us telling you about her, right?”
The turtles, as well as Master Splinter, had mentioned the woman a few times and though Erin knew next to nothing about her in specific, they all seemed to regard her with a visible fondness whenever her name came up. She was apparently close to and very important to them all.
“Yeah. She’s a friend you guys told me about a time or two.”
“I thought it might be a good idea to introduce you to April and her husband, Casey. We’ve known them both for a long time and since you mentioned the other night that some of your friends were acting a little curious about us, maybe knowing April and Casey might help you have an alibi whenever you’re with us in case anyone starts asking questions.”
“That would actually be a huge help. Jamie alone is going to be a pain to hide things from. Problem is, though…I kinda already told her it was four guys I hung out with the other night. I didn’t tell her anything else, so she doesn’t know that you’re all related or the big no-can-tell about…”
Erin glanced around to ensure she was properly alone, feeling a little odd being so secretive despite knowing how necessary it was.
“..you know…turtles and all that. It’s just four guys from work as far as she knows.”
“We’ll figure something out once we’re all at April and Casey’s. In any case, even if we don’t figure out a good cover story tonight, at least you’ll have met the rest of our family.”
The mention of the word ‘family’ gave Erin pause, unleashing an unpleasant twisting of anxiousness inside her as she considered the possibilities of what this next meeting could mean. She'd assumed the couple the turtles had spoken of were quite possible some of the only human friends the brothers had in their lives, at least before they’d met her, so that alone made them incredibly important. The fact that their relationship was so strong that Leo openly described them as being family made Erin feel not unlike she had when she’d been about to meet Master Splinter; like she had someone else to prove something to. It was a possibility that they might not entirely trust her at first and despite telling herself not to worry, Erin knew she’d probably feel a fair deal of apprehension until she was sure that April and Casey, like everyone new she’d met thus far, were aware that she wouldn’t cause any trouble. She had to wonder just how many times she might have to demonstrate how trustworthy she was before her new place in the turtles’ lives would feel truly stable.
“Okay. Sounds like a plan. I’ll be off at ten tonight, so I’ll call Donnie when I’m leaving the office.”
“I’ll have Donnie text you the address and some directions if you need them. And Erin?”
“Hm?”
“We appreciate all you’re doing to keep our secret. I know it can’t be easy having to hide things from your friends, but it is really important to us. Thank you.”
She knew Leo meant every word with the utmost sincerity, unable to imagine that he was really one to fake such niceties. Like Raph, his family’s safety was Leo’s entire world and though she’d only seen it in little moments here and there, Erin had the impression that no one took the continued well-being of the turtles’ lives as seriously as Leo did. The fact that he wanted to state his appreciation for something as simple, to her anyway, as discretion made every tiny falsehood she might have to utilize against her older friends in the future worth it. She didn’t much like to lie and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be all that good at it, but sometimes little secrets and the occasional fib here and there were necessary when it was to help someone she cared about. Leonardo and his brothers hadn’t been dear to her as long as Jamie, didn’t feel as close, but that didn’t make them and doing right by them any less important to her. Odd as they were and strange as it was to have to start living what felt akin to a double life, sharing jokes with Michelangelo and being someone Leo could depend on were new fixtures in her little world which she wanted to keep.
“It’s cool, Leo. No thanks necessary.”
Erin glanced at the clock on one of the break room walls and let out a little sigh, seeing that she didn’t have too much time left before she had to head back to her desk.
“I’ve gotta go for now. It’s about time to hop back on the clock. Tell Mikey bye for me and I’ll see you guys later.”
“I will. Bye, Erin.”
“Bye.”
She ended the call, almost a little sad to be off the phone, wishing she could get paid to chat with Mikey instead of with people who tended to fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. Erin put her phone on vibrate and made a quick stop by the restroom before she returned to her little work station, pulling her headset back on as she settled in her seat, logging back in to the phone system. Silence greeted her, the call center floor mostly quiet, with only a few voices to be heard since there were so few calls coming in. Figuring she had a good while yet before she’d have a customer to converse with, she reclined in her chair and started drumming her short fingernails atop her desk, trying desperately not to let her eyes dart towards the clock on the taskbar of her computer screen. She’d just begun to entertain the notion of making a chain out of paperclips when her cellphone began to vibrate atop her desk, scooping the device up to see that she’d received a text message from an unfamiliar number. Typically, she might have simply deleted it or ignored it altogether, but the subject of the text clued her in as far as who it had come from, admittedly relieved to see that Mikey or rather ‘ur fav turtle’ as the subject said, had memorized her number while he’d had Donnie’s phone. Erin opened the text, happy for both the entertainment and for the lack of patrolling supervisors who might have told her to put her phone away, quietly reading what the turtle had sent her.
‘Wut do u call sum1 who doesnt fart n public?’
Erin keyed out a quick response, stating that she didn’t know and after a mere few moments Michelangelo had sent her a reply, one that had her snorting.
‘A private tutor.’
Without a voice in her ear at present or a call likely to come any time soon, the brunette was content as could be in replying to the text with a request for more. She’d have to ignore her phone whenever a customer came ringing, but at least during the long in between she had a friend handy to help distract her from checking the clock. Maybe if she was lucky, Mikey’s awesomely bad jokes would become a Sunday constant.

~ ~

“Do you know if she likes chicken parmesan?”
April supposed it shouldn’t have been surprising that no one responded to her question right away, not when she could hear the droning of the television almost as clearly as the oil simmering in the sauté pan just before her. She had no clue whatsoever which teams were playing, knowing only that it was hockey and nothing short of an explosion could distract Casey from hockey, not that her question had been for her husband anyway. She waited a few more seconds before she looked over her shoulder to see that the boys were all in various states of distraction, Raphael right there with Casey on the couch while Leo watched Donnie working at the kitchen table, doing a last minute check up on the computer he’d brought. They were all focused on something, so she supposed she couldn’t fault them for remaining oblivious to her inquiry even if it was still pretty annoying.
“Sorry, April. What’d you say?”
Mikey glanced up from the cutting board he'd been dutifully focusing his attention on, eyes still a bit moist from the onions he'd recently grated, the meat hammer he'd been using to pound chicken breasts becoming still. She knew he probably would've been more happy to relax on the couch with his brother and her husband, but Leo had roped him in to being on kitchen detail as a result of apparently pilfering Donnie's phone earlier that day. April couldn't claim to know what Mikey had done it for or why it was worth even a modest punishment, but she couldn't protest having help in the kitchen when it wasn't an 'order out for food' kind of night.
“Your friend. I was asking if she likes chicken parmesan.”
“Dunno. I know she likes pizza. And she can eat. She about packed in as many slices as I did the other night.”
“I don't think anyone can eat as many slices of pizza as you can, Mikey.”
“I can't help it if my stomach always wants for the most ambrosial of foods, bro,” Michelangelo remarked with a shrug, bringing the meat hammer down on a chicken breast a few times before he glanced back at Raphael.
“Hey, you know her better than I do, Raph. Does Erin like chicken parm?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“You're the one she has a special nickname for, Big Red. I figured that meant you guys were at least close enough to know each others' favorite eats.”
“Bite me, Mikey.”
“Pass. I'd rather have April's awesome cooking.”
“Call me Big Red again and you might end up eatin' your own fist instead.”
The woman in question smiled, appreciative of the compliment while utterly amused by the bickering, deciding to just let her inquiry go unanswered. If the new girl wasn't a fan of what was being prepared then not much could be done since they'd already started cooking, onions and garlic nearly finished sautéing while Mikey set to work on the meat, their joint efforts causing the whole apartment to smell amazing. April honestly didn't cook terribly often, she and Casey usually happy to just order something or eat out after they closed up the shop for the day. Cooking a big meal tended to be a once a week endeavor or a special occasion occurrence, the later of the two seeming to be what fit her current idea of the meeting the night entailed. Meeting new people when one ran an antique store was fairly common, but meeting a new person who happened to be aware of her secret extended family was anything, but typical and April wanted to try to make this Erin that the turtles spoke of feel comfortable.
It was rare that the brothers had new friends to introduce her to given that they went to such great lengths to remain hidden, acting as NYC's best kept secret. They helped people every day, so they'd naturally made acquaintances and friendships over the years now and again, but it had been a long while since the last time they'd encountered someone new. April knew little about the new woman other than little tidbits she'd gleaned from the turtles' mentions of her, but she felt little cause for suspicion or alarm. She trusted the brothers' judgment and she trusted Splinter's even more so, figuring that Erin had to be a person of merit if everyone had given her the okay. The fact that Leonardo had insisted upon Casey and herself meeting the other human was a clear indication that her friends wanted the newly formed connection they'd happened upon to last and grow. They wouldn't have wanted their oldest human friends to meet her otherwise.
“Aw, come on! You're puttin' him in the penalty box for that! He barely even touched the other guy!”
Between the stove, the television, her irate husband, and the two squabbling brothers, the apartment was about as loud as it usually was whenever the turtles paid a visit. It was familiar and amusing, if not just a little bit grating on one's nerves whenever the noise caused a migraine to set in. Her head hadn't started throbbing as of yet, so April easily found herself smiling, urging Michelangelo to start breading the chicken in order to distract him from trying to get a rise out of his temperamental sibling. Raphael seemed thankful for the lack of antagonizing commentary and directed his attention to whatever had caused her husband to start cussing out the referee. If it weren't for the fact that April knew how much of a potty mouth Raphael was, she almost might have worried that Erin could end up offended half-way through dinner. Even so, she considered telling her spouse to tone it down once the game was over, knowing fully well that getting Casey Jones to remain calm during a hockey game was about as likely as the Shredder returning from the dead to beg the turtles for forgiveness.
“All right. Looks like this thing is good to go.”
April looked over her shoulder to see Donnie closing the laptop with an audible click, taking the carry case Leo offered him to put the computer away for safe keeping.
“Go ahead and set it next to the bookcase. I'll bring it downstairs in the morning and let the owner know that it's fixed. I can have Casey run the money to you after he's done with a few deliveries tomorrow.”
“Thanks, April.”
She shook her head dismissively as she turned back to the stove, feeling that thanks were never necessary in regards to helping with his repair business went. Happy as she was to help out the turtles in any financial way they might need, Donnie had been fairly insistent upon earning funds his own way, preferring to work than accept handouts even if April was and had always been family. She respected his wishes and was glad that acting as the in-between for Donnie and his client base allowed for her to offer assistance in a different way. It'd been nice knowing over the course of the past few years that Splinter and his sons could purchase whatever food, medicine, or the like they might need since they tended to refute monetary assistance.
Donnie set the laptop where she'd suggested and disappeared in to the bathroom, leaving her to request that Leo start setting the table. The tomato sauce had a while yet to simmer since she'd put all of the ingredients together, heating up another pan of oil to start cooking the chicken while Leo clambering behind them to pluck plates from one of the overhead cabinets. She reached towards one of the drawers to grab a handful of cutlery when Donatello's cellphone started going off where Leo had recently placed it on the counter, the redhead moving to intercept it instead since Donnie had left the room. She answered without glancing at the name on the screen, desperate to silence the weird 'All Your Base Are Belong To Us' ringtone that Donnie had been using since forever, lifting the phone straight to her ear.
“Hello?”
She initially heard what sounded like traffic and wind through the receiver before an unfamiliar and slightly tentative voice spoke.
“Uh, hi. I may have the wrong number. Unless this is Donnie's phone.”
“Is this Erin?”
“Yeah! That'd be me. I'm guessing this is April? Unless Mikey got up to more phone snatching and knows how to do one heckuva lady impersonation.”
April snorted, the sound catching Michelangelo's attention while her wide grin kept him curious.
“Right on the first count. Donnie's in the bathroom, but if you're calling for directions I'll be glad to give them to you.”
“Actually, I'm good as far as that goes. I got off work a little while ago and I'm on my way. Just wanted to let everyone know I'd be there soonish. Work honestly isn't terribly far from your antique shop.”
“Where are you exactly?”
“I'm on West 11^th. I should be crossing 7^th here in a few minutes.”
“Okay. Why don't you go ahead and wait once you get to the corner of 11^th and Waverly? It's pretty late to be walking alone, so I'll send one of the guys to meet you.”
“That's okay! I should be all right by myself. I usually am.”
“The wait will give Mikey and I a little more time to finish up the chicken parmesan, so it'll be ready when you get here.”
“Chicken parm? Oh god, send whoever is the most willing to run while carrying me piggyback, because I'm hungry and that sounds extra delicious.”
April laughed, glad for the confirmation that her dinner choice had been met with approval. It was only a brief impression of a person, a modest glimpse in to what sort of woman Erin Brooks was, but thus far the phone conversation pegged her as being just the way the turtles had described. She seemed friendly enough and a bit funny, coming off as someone who could very well be the welcome addition to the family that April had hoped for once she'd first learned about the other woman.
“Wait. Since the guys kinda have to avoid being seen, shouldn't I wait in an alley instead of a street corner?”
“The corner ought to be fine.”
She moved around the kitchen table after waving a hand towards the oil crackling in the newest pan, letting Mikey start lowering chicken breasts on to the heated surface as she strode in to the living room, smiling as pleasantly as could be. She stopped beside the couch and stayed there until Raphael, unable to ignore her presence, looked away from the television to stare up at her. The way his brows immediately started to furrow spoke volumes of how uneasy her sugary sweet smile made him feel.
“Okay, I'll be waiting. I guess I'll be meeting you soon.”
“I'm looking forward to it! Bye!”
“Bye!”
She hit the button to end the call, folding her arms behind her back as she continued to stare down at Raphael, who looked suspicious and close to bolting, as if he knew precisely what she was smiling about.
“Casey, honey, can you go grab some of your clothes from the bedroom?”
Realization dawned on Raph, who seemed caught somewhere between scowling and wanting to argue. Not that any of the turtles argued with April O'Neil very often or won whenever they did.
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes. It's time to put on your big boy pants, Raphael.”
Erin was in for a very amusing surprise.
A/N: Sorry again for the absurdly long wait and I hope this chapter at least got a few laughs despite the fact that it's sort of a low-key one. I'm still pacing things slowly with the development of Raph and Erin's relationship, as well as her relationships with his family and so on. There will be more action behind the scenes, I promise, but the bond building and romance is still definitely what I want to focus on.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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