Ninja Turtles 1. Chapter 1

**HESITATIONS: Donnie & April**

**_Prologue – Doing the Stupid thing. _**

_"You talk too much"  
__April, "Target: April O'Neil__"_

_._

"O-FAHK'ing-_PAH!_" April snarled as the dinner plate careened into the concrete wall of the Lair's kitchen directly beside Donatello's quickly ducked head. The ninja Turtle could feel as if in slow motion the thousand tiny ceramic shards ping off the back of his shell and thick purple headband. The discomfort was nothing compared to the million shrapnel butterflies lashing the inside of his stomach.

"Now, A-April…", Donnie stuttered, back-peddling like it was a stage in the Tour de France, "We say things when we're angry…"

"_Shut it_, Donatello", April interrupted, "When were you gonna tell me that you decided to forget to reh-" – her voice hitched on the last word – "to remember?!", she finished.

'_Oh GOD_', April thought to herself, '_do I have to sound so __**desperate**_?' She felt out of control. If Donatello's choice not to acknowledge the best day of her life – a day spent making love with _him_ – wasn't a clear invitation for her to move on, then surely it was a hand-delivered, arsenic-laced note from The Shredder.

April's shoulders slumped. The room started to spin. She braced one hand on the wall: _inhale_ –_ exhale_; _pull it together…_ Then all of sudden a single word projected itself onto the canvas of her brain:

**_FUKKIT_**

Paradoxically, Donnie's lasting impression of his argument with the only person, and the only human, he'd ever adored was the strawberry-spiced scent of April's hair as she swept past him, a terrifying red-headed Fury, and out of the Turtles' lair into the city above.

.

* * *

_**A/N**: T__o riff on a fictitious slogan for an airline, "I'm not happy unless my characters are unhappy". But full disclosure: I love the Donatello-April pairing, for many reasons. _

_The main reason is probably that when Donnie and April come together, it's this small, bright reassurance that any of us can find love despite our foibles and flaws; a tiny testament (ok, ok, albeit fictitious) that any of us can be wanted and known, **really known**, by someone else. _

_But where I enjoy exploring Apriltello the most (aside from the romantic, sultry, pelvis-warming stuff) is tipping the tables on standards and presumptions – such as: April's lucky that Donnie loves and accepts her, not just the other way around; and April's character is much more than a love interest, and she's got her own sh*t to take care of. _

_Lastly? Healthy conflict = growth. And for these two very intelligent, ambitious characters, change and growth is their MO. It just doesn't mean that the growth is always is the same direction. And that sets the stage for the (I hope) delicious tension in this next story of my little Apriltelloverse. _

_Sweet, Sweet Readers I hope that you enjoy and –gasp!– **pleasepleaseplease review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 1 – Reimmersion _**_(several weeks prior to the Prologue)_

_"Booyakasha"  
__April, "Revelations: Donnie & April"_

_._

The still air of the subterranean train station cooled rapidly as the setting sun withdrew its heat. Golden sunbeams raised the gracious, long-abandoned passenger hall from a handsome Art Deco relic to a vibrant chiaroscuro scene.

Long shadows stretched their fingers over the stone sunk-relief carvings to plunge into sprays of vast wrought-iron flowers. Perched on the antique wall sconces, solar-sensitive lamps flared to life like tiny stars. Pinpoints in the dark, Donatello had installed them so that he could always see his way in his covert refuge, a sanctuary where he found balance and rest.

His super-secret-sanctuary that April had broken into. In a nice way. As the summer sun was arcing across the New York City skyline, Donnie had been seduced by the auburn-haired young women into almost of full day of sex. Sex that he'd had for the first time. Sex that was incredible.

With April, Donnie had achieved peace-of-mind in new and highly unexpected ways.

Against the room's chill, April slowly stirred. Drowsily, she blinked against the peachy sunlight that exaggerated the angles of the walls soaring towards the surface above her. Stretching languidly from crown to toe, she ran a mental body check. Her muscles felt stiff and sore, in the very best ways; especially those she hadn't used like that before. All the more reason for future - um, practise.

April could feel Donnie next to her. She lazily turned her head to admire the teen Turtle. Lying on his side with one arm flung over his head in a mock wave, the other curled against his plastron, he looked perfectly at ease, and…beautiful.

To April, Donnie's body was strength and grace kissed by Springtime. Her eyes followed the line of his three broad fingers to where they touched the intricate weave of rug they'd slept on, made love on -

Wow.

They'd made love.

How crazy was that?

_Not as crazy as it was wonderful_, smiled April inwardly.

She noticed that Donnie's left thigh was curled around her right one. That explained why her leg hadn't woken up with the rest of her body. Pins and needles started to set in.

"Donatello", she breathed, to no reply.

"_Donatello_", she spoke, louder, her hand gently rocking his shoulder. - crickets -

Reaching down, April gently disentangled herself from her friend and lover without him showing the slightest sign of cognition. Ninja or not, he was utterly out in the way that only teenagers can be as they sleep; and even more so after the delirious exertion of the past seven hours.

As she moved from Donnie's warmth the cool air nipped her exposed skin. _Where were her clothes?_ Oh, yeah: her pack was behind the dressing screen in the corner, where she'd left it after she'd slunk in that morning. The summer dress she had changed into to seduce Donnie with was lost amongst the sea of rugs and flotilla of cushions over which they'd rolled, and then slept.

'_That's OK_. _It'll give me a good excuse to come back here'_, April joked silently to herself.

The teen softly padded back behind the screen to recover her pack and get dressed.

As April found her jean shorts and t-shirt, she mused that so much had happened between her and Donnie that the morning felt like a lifetime ago. She smiled thinking how profound it had felt that he'd let her play his body like the phenomenal instrument of power, passion and pleasure that it was.

Better still: there were fleshly frontiers they'd chosen to wait to explore…They were taking things, if not exactly slowly, then at their own pace. They had other ways of achieving peace-of-mind to look forward to.

She was still struck by how a ninja of Donnie's lethal skill was also perfectly tender. And perfectly rough, she smirked inwardly, reminiscing.

April shook her head to clear the sensual daydream. As she finished slipping on her street clothes she felt a tiny pall settle over her. When she was with Donatello – when they had been _together_ – everything else in the universe had fallen away. Cloaked with Donnie's adorations, April had forgotten the Kraang, The Foot, her own confused mutant pedigree, her French exam…everything in real life that ate at her mind on a weekly – nope, make that daily, basis. Real life certainly could suck.

'_Waiddaminute',_ April started: Cool air; Sunset…'_Dammit, what time was it now anyway?_'

Crud. She'd been out all day with her T-phone off and she wouldn't be shocked if her Dad was freaking out by now. They all knew she was on-again off-again bounty for Pepto-Bismol aliens and a crazed kunoichi. And, god - she badly needed a shower. April was loath to go, but she had to get home stat.

It felt dishonourable to leave Donnie like he was a one-night stand; to April he was anything but. She cast another look at him. She couldn't bring herself to disturb such a visibly deep and peaceful sleep - especially since Master Splinter was going to kick his butt for missing afternoon practise. If she texted Donnie, his T-Phone might chirp or worse (what _was_ that annoying ringtone he had?). The least she could do was write a note.

Shoving her arm deep into her pack she tried to fish out paper and pen – harder to do than she thought since she worked almost exclusively by laptop. After her fingernails scraped nothing but crumbs on the pack's floor she gave up. Looking around in frustration, she spied a pen and scrap of paper on Donnie's wooden bureau. His refuge was tech-free, so it made total sense that the cerebral Turtle would record his thoughts old-school!

Chewing on the pen cap, she mused on what to write. Everything she could think of felt corny, or much-too-much for only a couple square inches of real estate. Suddenly a profound moment bubbled up from her memory:

_"It doesn't seem to matter how much I try - or try not to try; I can't fit in. I don't think I'll ever be anything but a loser, Don."_

_"April."_ The Turtle had gently tipped the teen's chin towards his own _"Having gotten to know you, I have come to the conclusion that being a loser is tragically underrated. Let's face it: for a loser, there is no place left to fall. Except in love. With you. So colour me lost, Freckles."_

His kiss had been tender and perfect.

Inspired, April quickly jotted:

_Love you, Loser ; ) Hope we get to do this again real soon? (Pretty please?) A. xoxo _

Now, how to make sure Donnie saw it? OH, his mask! Could she find Donnie's mask? In a spot of luck, there it was, a tongue of purple fabric licking out from beneath a cushion. She gently extracted the thick band and placed it carefully on top of her note, which she propped up against Donnie's cute bonsai tree. If nothing else Donnie would have to retrieve his mask and see her note.

Mission accomplished!

The teen quietly hoisted her pack onto her shoulder and moved to the well-oiled door. Casting a final, longing look on her Turtle, April slipped from the room and made her way to the smouldering city above.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2 – Recollection**

_"She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen!"  
_Donatello, "Rise of the Turtles"

.

**_"_****_OH_**_shellohshellohshellohshelloh__**SHELL**__."_

Donatello was officially awake.

_He had missed training_.

He had. **MISSED.** **_TRAINING_**.

Donnie had opened his sleep-filled amber eyes to witness the last of dusk's apricot glow glide up the walls and ebb through the ceiling grates as the setting sun changed shifts with the rising moon. Darkness silently soaked into the subterranean hall.

He'd blinked slowly, confused as to what he was doing lying on the floor. Traffic and subway sounds rumbled through concrete and metal. Recollection had dawned.

_April._

The ninja Turtle had shot up to a seated position, looking around the great room so frantically that his head should have whipped off to land among his many piles of books. Forcing himself to calm down and sit still, Donnie strained to hear any signs that April was still there with him.

The silence was physically painful. He yearned to gather the adorable teen in his arms again, and kiss her long and deep and sweet. _How long ago had she left?_

_Exactly how long had __**he **__been here?_

Woozily, Donnie dragged himself to his feet, and trudged through throw cushions like a kid wading in deep snow. He didn't know what to stress about more: April's departure or missing afternoon training.

For the moment, he settled on training; Splinter would have his shell, not only for bailing on practise but, even worse, for going off-grid all day.

He'd turned his T-phone off as per usual when he took an hour or two for himself in his refuge. He'd never in a million alternate dimensions anticipated the lovathon that April had initiated – let alone how to handle what came after it. Yet he'd been totally unreachable, and no one had known where he was.

Mikey or Raph might do stupid crap like that, but it wasn't Donnie's style. What on Earth was he going to tell his sensei, his father?

With the Kraang and the Foot Clan both keen on eating turtle soup lately, he was betting that his family had assumed the worst and would be in full panic mode by now.

Grim-faced, Donnie flipped on his T-phone to check his messages:

"Where r u D? Training soon…" – Leo  
"Where R U? Training NOW" – Leo

"L's bein even more of an (_*_) cos of u. Get back soon." – Raph

"bring pizza Δ" – Mikey

"If Splinter knew how 2 text he'd text 'U R L8 4 training'" – Leo  
"We're training" – Leo  
"U missed training" – Leo

"leo and raph kicked my butt in training. bring apology pizza {:l Δ " – Mikey

"Splinters on the Cheez Fone BAHAHA. U R toast." – Raph

"Where's April? I hope you guys are training" – Leo

"r u with aaaapriiiiillll? :-*** " – Mikey  
"can april bring pizza? ~Δ~ " – Mikey

"R U OK?" – Leo

"Seriously where are ya Don?" – Raph

"we're gonna scout for you D don't worry helps coming!" – Leo

"U better be in trouble cos otherwise you're in bigger trouble" – Raph

"u owe us pizza bigtime bro :-( ΔΔΔΔΔΔ" – Mikey

.

**_Shell._**

No texts from April. _What did that mean?_ _Why had she left without a word? _

April had instigated this day of lovemaking that was so precious to him. After everything, had she changed her mind? Just before she'd…she'd explored him, then _brought_ him, she'd said she wanted him to let go, to be exposed, vulnerable with her…

Was leaving him here part of that? Surely not;_ surely not after what they'd just shared…_

Pushing aside the ill-blossoming seed of unease, he rapidly mass-texted his family:

"Im safe home soon dont worry [SORRYSORRYSORRY]+-8!"

No matter how he worked it, he had to get back to the Lair **now**.

Except first he had to wash off all the sex.

Even though, in a slightly gross way, Donatello wanted to keep April's musk on his skin, he acknowledged that he desperately needed to bathe. The scent would be a dead give-away to his brothers and father than he and April had been, erm, _excessively friendly_ with each other. The teasing would be more brutal and merciless than a 12-hour "Space Heroes" marathon. He needed to figure out what to tell them instead. He wasn't at all ready to have _that_ discussion with his family.

Ever.

Also, he wanted to have that discussion with April first.

Donnie hurtled towards the copper faucet just inside the room's entrance door and cranked on the water. Splashing and scrubbing his arms, legs, plastron and shell like a crazed bird in a garden bath, he thought about how he felt. He'd not only been intimate with someone else for the first time in his life, but with the woman of his dreams, a human woman. _Never in a million alternate dimensions…._

His lower body washed, he rinsed his shoulders, neck and face – which is when he noticed: _his mask_! April had worn his purple trademark mask (and _only_ his mask) as part of her seduction of him – the same mask that he'd then blindfolded her with to do unspeakably wonderful sex-things to her…

As torrid memories and florid technical jargon started deluging his mind, Donnie felt a heat build in his groin. "_YUNNHH! Not Now_!" He had to keep moving, get home.

Where the sh_ell_ was his mask? No way could he leave here without it! Donnie dove back into the cushions, searching for the long strip of thick amethyst cloth. Panicking, he came up empty handed.

Then, from his kneeling position, he could see purple dripping over the side of his bureau, where he'd originally tossed the mask. Quickly, he reached up and snatched it off the desk, scattering a bunch of papers onto the floor – including April's love note to him.

"**_Got it!_**" Air-punching victoriously, Donnie tied the band around his head, leapt up and raced back to the door to reinstate his carefully stored wraps and pads, leathers and bo staff, around his body.

Even while harried, his mind wouldn't let go of the past several hours. Donnie reflected on how out of his head he was for April's feel, her scent, her taste (_oh Sweet Reason, he totally had to brush his teeth soon, too!_). Despite his rush he realized that he felt looser, more relaxed than he ever had; as though he'd unknowingly spent his whole life coiled tight like a spring. He felt that he'd tapped more deeply into the well of personal power he carried inside of himself (_as well as stumbled upon a whole new fun way to accrue emotional baggage!_, chided the anxious side of his mind).

Anyway: _If this was love, he was all in._

The door to Donnie's sanctuary quickly and silently wheeled open and shut behind him. The racing ninja Turtle was but a flash of bottle green in the dimly lit sewer tunnels funneling him towards the Lair.

No matter what happened next, no matter how many push-ups and toilet cleanings and whatever-elses Splinter punished him with, all of this was worth it, a thousand times over.

Donatello just hoped that April felt the same way.

.

* * *

_**A/N:** Donnie's text, "[SORRY...SORRY]+-8", is my geeky futile FF way of trying to insert the mathematical symbol for infinity, in both positive and negative directions. True infinity, man. Totally underused maths symbol :)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3 – Connections **_(parallel timeline to "Revelations" [aka while Donnie and April geddidawn])_

_._

"_You guys treat me like I'm a big goofball all the time! _..._You guys never take me seriously!_"  
Michelangelo, "Mikey Gets Shellacne"

.

Under Raphael's heel, Michelangelo' face was crushed into the dojo carpet for the twelfth time that afternoon. The youngest of the four Ninja Turtles dry-heaved against the ripe pong of his brother's sweat-soaked foot wraps.

Raph feigned boredom even as he worked his toes further into Mikey's nostrils.

"_Raphael_!"

"_Hai_, Master Splinter!", Raph called back, his eyes never leaving Mikey's skwushed face.

"Do you not think your brother has suffered enough defeats today, that you must rub your victory so literally into his face?"

"UUHHHHNN", groaned Mikey from the floor. "Thur agurnee urv de-feet."

"Nah, _Sensei_. I'm just showin' him a nicer version of what would happen if the _Foot Clan_ kicked his _butt_."

"Yame, Raphael. Michelangelo is your brother, and your ally in battle. You must show him _respect_."

The ninja Master lifted a slender index finger, letting it hover in mid-air as if gauging a phantom breeze. Sensing their father and teacher warm into a lecture, the three teen Turtles were not left waiting long:

"My sons – one must respect one's opponent. To belittle the enemy is to expose one's _own_ weakness. _Reflect_ on this question:

If you cannot, and do not, respect others, then how can you recognize how to properly respect your_self_? _Respect_ is the way of the ninja; not childish _taun_ting."

"Yeuah, Rurph", Mikey slurred from under Raph's foot before blowing him a wet, lopsided raspberry.

Ever since the Turtles were little kids Raphael and their now-captain, Leonardo, had been the most skilled fighters. Raph, because he was built like a small tank, behaved in kind, and liked it that way; Leo, because he was an impeccably detail-oriented, tireless over-achiever driven by a relentless need to please Sensei. Which – sidebar – pissed Raph off no end.

Donatello and Michelangelo brought their own unique strengths to the foursome but these skills were, respectively, more intellectual and…well, _other_. Mikey and Donnie were polar opposites in that one brother thought too much, while the other, not much at all. Or so Mikey's brothers always assumed.

In truth, it wasn't that Mikey didn't think, so much as _what_ and _how_ he thought that perplexed his family. Perplexed most everyone, really.

In Michelangelo's brain, logic was a foreign language in a foreign land, operating without a compass. Maybe because of this, Mikey had the exceptional ability to see through other people's carefully crafted facades, to read them like open books, understand their emotions and drives even when they themselves were oblivious.

Because Mikey's heart was wide open, he could bulls-eye the true essence of anyone: human, mutant, alien or, sometimes, furniture. To Mikey, being emotionally available signaled strength, not vulnerability. Which – sidebar – pissed Raph off no end.

This strength was how Mikey knew in a breeze that Raph was really, deeply concerned that Donatello had not shown up for training that afternoon and was still _in absentia_. Leo, on the other hand, had been texting Donnie vociferously for the past three hours; it was pretty obvious to even the tree in the dojo that Leo was, if at first annoyed, now very worried.

In any given training session, Raph and Leo made a leisure pursuit of wailing on Mikey and Donnie. Today, with Donnie AWOL, and his brothers concerned, Mikey was not only the sole target but also had been thrashed more than twice as vehemently. Raph had deployed brute force, an approach so obvious that Mikey understood perfectly well how he got licked. Leo, on the other hand, had inexplicably outmanoeuvered Mikey repeatedly, making a game of leading his younger brother by the nose only to let him fall – as always – on his adorable green face.

Beating up on Mikey was a stress-release thing for his brothers. Mikey got it. Didn't mean he liked it.

Huffing in response to his father's command, Raphael lifted his foot away from his brother's cheek, admiring the cheesecloth topography of his foot wraps splayed across Mikey's freckles. Straightening up, the red-banded Turtle retracted his _sais_ and bowed stiffly to Splinter. Then, irritably, he spun on his heel and left the dojo.

With a distracted but deferential "_arigato_", Leonardo also bowed to his Sensei and exited the room, flipping on his T-phone as he went.

Ignoring the abrupt end to this training session, Master Splinter sighed. He, too, was deeply concerned that Donatello – his most responsible son second to Leonardo – had mysteriously failed to appear at their regular and mandatory training session. But unlike the two sons who had just left, Splinter suspected that Donatello's disappearance was not due to nefarious intervention; unless one could consider a red-headed teenage girl nefarious. This, for the father of a teenage boy, was highly tempting to do. Splinter was not at all sure how he would handle things if his unspoken theory proved correct.

In the meantime, he had another teenage son to Father to. Splinter moved to Mikey as he collected himself into a kneeling position and re-tied his signature tangerine-coloured mask around his head.

Seeing his typically buoyant son uncharacteristically dejected, concern flowed from the Rat's ochre eyes.

"My son: are you alright?"

His own bright blues eyes downturned, Mikey chewed on his lower lip. Something about this training session had really gotten to him – in part because he was also beginning to worry about Donnie. Was he ever gonna come back with pizza?

"Sensei, I know that Raph's stronger than me. An' he sees through my moves, even if they are totally rad…

But, Leo - why can't I see _any_ of what _Leo_ does to put me down, _every_ time?! Around Leo, I feel like a tool – a complete tool, not a partial one, not like Donnie's measuring pipette-thing that I used to hammer those metal picture-hooks into the bathroom cupboard doors...

I'm constantly out-strat-eh-juh-sized, Sensei: by my bros, by the Foot, the Kraang, the delivery dude who slipped me _Canadian_ change for the pizza last week…_I'm really __done __with this_!", Mikey finished in exasperation, his shoulders slumped towards his toes.

Michelangelo rarely got upset. When he did, Splinter knew that his boy was truly in despair.

The Master thought carefully about what advice to give his Pupil. It was always hardest with Michelangelo. Splinter, like most everyone, had the toughest time putting himself into the boy's inimitable headspace. A family memory came to him:

"Michelangelo, do you remember when you were younger and liked to play that game of _vertical tic-tac-toe_? The one with _red_ and _yellow_ discs that Donatello scavenged when you were but children…"

Mikey looked to the side, deep in recall.

"Oh, yeah… _Kinekt Force_?"

"That is the one", Splinter confirmed. "Do you recall how frustrated you became with it, losing game after game?"

"I think I once got so mad that I ate a coupla' pieces, didn't I?"

"Yee-esss, Michelangelo: as we all observed about one day later in the toilet. Of course, eating the pieces - which were forever lost because no one in their right mind was going to recover them - did not help you to overthrow your opponents; particularly not Leonardo or Donatello. Do you know why they continued to win?"

"Because they're smarter than me", Mikey replied very glumly and no less resolutely.

"Well, you make a good case, my son; but that is not the real reason. When you played, you focused _only_ on what _you_ were doing – not on what _your opponent_ was doing. Much as you did during training today.

Truthfully, my son, I remain surprised by this self-defeating habit of yours. You are gifted with a rare, and deep, awareness of others' states of mind and heart. If you were to tap into this ability during battle, you would not be so easily outmanoeuvered. I have no doubt that you would anticipate your adversary's _thoughts_ and _emotions_, and hence _subsequent actions_, towards your _own_ victory."

Michelangelo reflected on this.

It took a while.

Patiently, Splinter meditated on the sound of his son's brain-gears churning.

Finally, Mikey spoke his thoughts aloud:

"Sooooo…Sensei – if that's true, if I do have this ability; then…are you also thinking that Donnie missed practice this afternoon 'cos he was with April?"

Splinter jerked back in shock, golden eyes saucer-wide: _Did Michelangelo know that this affair had been planned? Or had his son truly been so sensitive as to observe, as had he, the intensifying exchanges, the heat, the tension building between his scientifically-minded son and the young, fierce kunoichi who now very clearly returned his affections?_

"Yyy-yes, Michelangelo. What do you know of this?"

"Nuthin', Sensei. Just that they've been really disgustingly googly-eyed over each other for the past few weeks. And April's seemed especially fidgety lately. If they've finally snuck out for pizza all by themselves, then they totally owe the rest of us, big time."

Mikey was interrupted by Hero Turtle Leo shouting from the lair's common area:

"Mikey! We're going out to find Donnie! We're leaving NOW – _Come on!_"

Michelangelo signed and shrugged his shoulders. After checking to make sure his _nunchaku_ were in place, he bowed to Master Splinter, and then hugged him.

"Thanks, Sensei. If we find Donnie at _Antonio's_, we'll bring some pie home for you."

"Pizza may be the least of our worries right now, my son."

Mikey stared at Splinter for a slow heartbeat, eye ridges lifted and mouth agape in incredulity. Then, shaking his head, he turned and sprinted to join his brothers. The three ninja Turtles vaulted over the lair's turnstiles and into the underworld of NYC to search for Donatello.

.

* * *

_**A/N:** "Kinekt Force" is of course a thinly-veiled reference to the classic real-life game of a similar name. The game will come up again in future chapters, hopefully in ways that amuse, Dear Reader. As ever, I'd be delighted to know what you think so far!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry for the très slow update – real life got in the way (as it does, right?). So much has happened with the Nick TMNT plotline that I won't even going to try to keep up. As my Apriltelloverse was always adjacent to the Nick show, I'm not too bothered that my fic isn't canon per say. I hope you're not either, Sweet Readers, and that you enjoy this latest chaptah! And thanks so much for the encouragement to keep writing! The love this story's received is duly noted, inspiring to me, and oh-so-greatly appreciated!_

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Consternation**

_"__Not bad for a nobody"  
_April, _"__Karai's Vendetta"_

_. _

"**I WARN YOU, IMPUDENT REPROBATE: I AM NOT TO BE TRIFLED WITH**."

"_Sir_, if you want to board your domestic flight then you'll need to comply with TSA regulations and remove all metal objects before passing through the scanner."

**"****Your request is reprehensible. Do you have ANY idea who ****I. ****_AM_****?**"

"Hmm, let's see: you're a very tall passenger who's _late_ for his flight to… checks boarding pass …_the-middle-of-nowhere_ seated in _economy_ class and dangerously close to receiving a TSA-regulation rectal probe. Now, I'm going ask you this one last time, sir: please remove your _metal paraphernalia_, including your, um, _Viking hat(?),_ empty your pockets of all loose change, and place everything in the bins provided."

"**_Father_**, you are being **_supremely _****emb****_arra_****ssing**! Just do what the degenerate airport security person says. We will **_avenge_** ourselves later."

_A little kid from the line shouts, "Geddowtofthe__**way**__, Cheese Grater Man, Imma visit my Gammie!"_

"**DAUGHTER, I will not be dictated to by a PEON of the ****GOVERNMENT****!**"

"Sir, please come with me to this _small inspection room_ where no one can hear you _squeal_…."

* * *

A few years ago scientists reported that revenge fantasies helped lower blood pressure and cortisol levels - thus soothing the body and mind. Since April's run-in with Karai, when she'd managed to escape by knocking The Shredder's kunoichi daughter off-balance mentally and physically, April had concocted a stream of Foot Clan Revenge Vignettes so steady and varied that she was tempted to start a blog.

Shredder and Karai going through an airport security nightmare was one of those vignettes. Another fave was the two of them, destitute and forced to start up a hedge-trimming business. They had the blades for it. Then there was the one where, instead of tunafish, Karai ate a Kraang alien by mistake…

Tonight, however, nothing was helping April fall asleep.

Other self-soothing tactics just fed the fire in her mind, and her hips.

The insomniac teen replayed the hours since she'd left Donatello's underground sanctuary-née-love-nest…

The walk back to April's apartment felt surprisingly short. Judging from the noise beyond her window, her neighbourhood was still ablaze with an annual street festival, attended by packs of happy people eating, friends drinking, couples holding hands…

It was cute to watch, yet so far from April's life that she had to shake her head at what "normal" had become to her.

She knew that she was missing out on a lot of the usual stuff that most teens did. But then she was also living every fanboy/fangirl fantasy of adventure, intrigue, super-powers: and now, romance.

Nonetheless, other girls would be well within their rights to long for a traditional boyfriend – [April interrupted to ask herself: '_And what would "traditional" be, O'Neil? __**Human?**_'] – The teen had to laugh at herself. She remembered that night long ago when Donnie had fought to stop the Kraang from kidnapping her and her Dad, how she'd shrieked with fright when she'd first set eyes on Donatello.

Well. Looks could be deceiving.

April was used to being assumed less capable because she was a girl. And here she was: a computer-hacking kunoichi, somehow important enough to be hunted by aliens and criminals, who chilled with ninja for kicks.

'_Not bad for a girl, O'Neil_', she mused. '_Actually: not bad for anybody at all_'.

The simple thing of it was that April consistently held her own and kept it together. Perhaps the influence of her scientist father had armed her with powers of logic, lateral thinking and improvisation. Maybe the trauma of losing her mom as a young girl had built her resolve and resilience.

Through all the upheaval, the pain and the danger of the past year and more, April had survived. Not because of what she was; but because of _who_ she was.

That was what April was most proud of about herself. She was nothing if not a tough cookie: she bent; she didn't break. Except for chocolate.

And now, for Donatello.

April was still astounded that she knew such a spectacular creature, let alone loved him. She replayed in her mind for the umpteenth time her lovemaking with Don and all its gorgeous peculiarities.

She'd been not a little shocked to discover that it turned her on to play her fingers around, and then inside the soft, moist opening housing him. Once released, he'd been black as plum and just as delectable-looking.

She guessed that all four Turtles looked like that, but it was kind of like knowing human anatomy – it was the same for everyone, but each person was distinct.

Unable to deny Donatello's allure for her, and totally stoked, April had been compelled to stroke him; slowly at first, then more assertively, until it became clear that: she had to taste him. Then that wasn't enough: she had to feel him beneath her as she slid herself across his length, suede-over-steel slicked with her body's desire…

Oh, f*ck, she was lathered up again. Her inner, muscular walls contracted involuntarily; the insistent little heartbeat between her thighs demanded attention.

April capitulated to both insomnia and hormones. With Donnie's muscular and svelte physique in her mind's eye, she artfully trailed a soft hand between her breasts, down towards her aching hips, which hitched rhythmically in time with the urgent tapping at her window…**the ****_wait_****, WHAT**?!

"_APRIL! PSSSSST! AAAAAAPRIIIIILLLL! ARE YOU IN THERE!?_"

Michelangelo found himself knocking on April's window to ask if she knew where to find Donnie. This was a sensitive and potentially lethal mission that only he could complete. At least, that's what Leo and Raph had assured him of.

April panic-hid under her bed sheets.

_"__Aaaaapril! AAAAAAApriiiiiiiiiil! This is really important! Someone's hiding under your bed sheets!_

"_Aw, MAN! ^*(&%#!_", April cursed to herself. There was no getting out of this. The fastest way to get Mikey to leave was to let him in.

She gathered herself together as best she could, thanked Reason that she'd showered off Donatello's scent, and slipped from her bed to the window; which she unlocked and opened to let in the steamy summer's night air – and Michelangelo's pizza breath.

"Hey Mikey. S'up?" asked April in her most butter-wouldn't-melt tone.

"_April_" Mikey's big baby blues bore into April's soul. "Donnie's gone. We can't find him ANYWHERE!"

April faked confusion, knitting her brows appropriately in perplexitude. Mikey went on:

"Leo and Raph, they think he's in trouble with the Kraang or the Foot. But me and Sensei, well…APRIL, I gotta ask you something _really_ important. I'm _really-_really sorry if this is prying but: Did you and Donnie…um, you know…Go out for pizza without us? Like: by _yourselves_?"

For a second, April wasn't sure if she'd heard Mikey properly. Did she – go out for _pizza_ alone with Donnie? Oh, this was _perfect_. If she could keep from bursting out laughing, she could pull this off.

April fixed Mikey's eyes with her own, now drowned with intense concern and seriousness. She took one of his robust hands in hers.

"Michelangelo. We…we didn't want to say anything. We didn't want you or the others to feel hurt or left out. I hope that can you understand and forgive me: Yes. Donnie and I. We had pizza together. For the first time."

Mikey's eyes widened in shock, and then narrowed, bringing his freckles to the fore and showing the strain of his thought processes.

"WHOOOOAAAA. I don't know what to say. _You totally did it_. You had pizza with Donnie. Alone. Together. April, if I wasn't so happy for the two of you, I'd be _totally_ mad."

Knowing that he couldn't let April think she could just get away with such an affront untarnished, Mikey squinted at her in what he hoped was an appropriately unsettling way and cautioned:

"Just be thankful you guys didn't go for pizza _gyoza_ without the rest us. Cos I don't know if I could get over that kind of betrayal, y' know?"

April couldn't help it. With an impish smile she replied, "I can't promise that Mikey. I kinda hope that Donnie and me will enjoy pizza gyoza by ourselves at some future time. But if that day comes then, my treat, I'll totally hook you up with Mr. Murakami. ("_Oh, that came out way wrong!", April quickly thought to herself._)

Mikey considered this for a few moments, his neurons ablaze creating visions of wing-tipped, halo-capped, _free_ pizza gyozas.

Daydream fading away, he spoke. "Yeah, well, sometimes I guess you just have to be with someone inna a certain way, right? Like, different people mean different things, like pieces in a puzzle, but they're all important to the big picture of who you are."

Unseated by Mikey's lucidity, April could only stutter, "Um, yeah, actually. That pretty much covers it. You certainly know how peoples' hearts tick, Mikey."

"It's a gift. Like when I filled Raph's pillowcase with peanut butter. Look, I don't wanna keep you, April. You're on your way to sleep and all –

Mikey looked over to April's bed and side-barred,_ "__Hey! Where'd that other person go?"_

Turning back to April he finished his thought:

"– but, um, we're pretty worried about Donnie – we still can't find him – and we sent you some texts _which you clearly didn't get because you didn't bring back __pizza __for us __like I asked_. If you see Don, can you please tell him to come straight –

Donnie's text bleeped its arrival on Mikey's T-phone.

"_Oooooh_. Looks like D's OK – and heading back to the Lair! This'll be so ehh-_piiiiiic_: Splinter's gonna **shuck** him like a **_clam_**. I don't wanna miss this! Gotta split, April, see you around!"

Like the ninja he was, Mikey was gone in a flash – and a poof of purple vapour as he detonated another of Donnie's hard-earned smoke bombs.

April sighed, rubbed her forehead and closed her window again. She'd follow up with Donnie in the morning. Taxed by her rapid-fire visit with the frenetic yet endearing Turtle, April fell onto her bed and into the deep sleep that only exhaustion can gift.

.

* * *

_Thank you for reading! Also, I'd be remiss without a shout-out to Novus Ordo Seclorum, who rightly extolled the virtues of a "Bridge Chapter" and whose TMNT/Apriltello fics kick-ass in the most eloquent and sensual of ways and are absolutely worth reading._


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Ninja Turtles, Angst, Romance