A/N: Okay, I know all you Hidden Truth fans are probably planning a horrible and gory death for me right now, but wait! I have not abandonned it! I just needed a break. That's all. Really! (gulps) This fic is co-authored/beta-read by Canadian Pirate Queen! Yet again! Thanks chica!

Disclaimer: I do not own Ninja Turtles.

White Raven

Encounters


"Sheila!"

Oh, damn…

"Sheeeiiilllaaa!"

Sheila Thomson rolled over on her bed, trying to block out the annoying voice of her sister. Her bedclothes knotted around her, but she simply buried her head in her pillow and gritted her teeth.

"Sheeeeeeeeeila!" Her sister's lovely voice rose in song, turning Sheila's name into a musical sound. Sheila groaned.

"Stop it, Aqua! It's only ten thirty!" Sheila called out, her voice muffled by her pillow. With a grunt she flopped over, throwing a glance at her digital clock with her good eye. "Okay, ten forty five!" she amended. "But still!"

Sheila's door opened and in skipped Aquarelle, her nuisence of a younger sister. Her curly chestnut hair bounced happily on her shoulders, and her snapping, don't-mess-with-me blue eyes were sparkling. Sheila groaned again.

"Mom says you have to get up," Aquarelle proclaimed smugly, hands on hips. She wore artfully ripped blue jeans and a grey T-shirt with a navy blue hoodie. Her much-worn pair of Homer Simpson slippers seemed oddly out of place, as did the pure white rat draped around her neck.

"I told you not to bring that thing in here," Sheila grumbled. The tabby cat curled at her feet was eyeing therat hungrily. "You know Leo will try to eat it!"

"Bugs has a name, you know! And that monster won't eat him!" Aquarelle sniffed, stroking Bugs's head. Leo's tail switched back and forth, and his ears perked forward, pinpointing the rat's location.

"Well, you gotta get up," Aquarelle said, backing toward the door. "Just because it's Saturday doesn't mean you can sleep all day!"

"I beg to differ," Sheila mumbled sleepily, face planted firmly in her pillow. But Aquarelle had already left. The door was closed. Sheila sat up and rubbed her bleary eyes. "Sisters."

With a dramatic sigh, Sheila slid her pyjama-clad legs from under the twisted heap of blankets, careful not to desturn Leo. She surveyed her room with her left eye.

It was big. All of the house's rooms were. Being on the top floor, Sheila's ceiling sloped over her bed, and was papered with old drawings and sketches. An easel stood to her right, a half-finished painting still fixed in place. A desk with a computer on it was in the corner. All her school supplies were there, some of it spilling over onto the jam-packed bookcase that stood nearby. To her left was her windowseat. It was her favorite spot. She would curl up and draw or read a good book there. On the wall next to it was her closet door.

Sheila rose unsteadily to her feet, yawning. She donned her dressing gown and chose an old T-shirt and pair of cords, heading for the bathroom. She had a quick shower, got dressed, and tamed her hair with a messy ponytail, before making her bed. She grabbed her backpack and headed downstairs, leaving her bedroom door open for Leo.

"Morning, hon," Sheila's mother, Catherine, greeted her daughter from her seat on the couch. The paper was layed out in front of her on the coffee table, open to the crossword page. "Finally decided to get up, have you?"

"Yeah, got bored," replied Sheila, grinning. "Thought I'd eat, too. Hungry."

"So it is your stomach I must thank for finally driving my daughter to me," Catherine said, throwing up a hand to her forehead, a look of mock-despair on her face. "Here I thought you'd actually come of your own accord."

"It's only ten forty five," Sheila grumbled, ignoring her mother's drama. Her good eye found the clock on the wall. "Okay, eleven thirty seven, then."

"I have never known anyone spend as much time getting ready as you," Catherine shook her head, returning to her crossword. Sheila popped two pieces of bread in the toaster and poured herself a glass of orange juice, which she downed rapidly, before depositing the glass in the dishwasher. She listened idly to Aquarelle's lovely voice emitting from her room, singing along to an Evenessence song.

I can't sing at all, Sheila reflected ruefully. All I inherited from mom was her sense of humour. Aquarelle got her hair, her voice, even her nose shape!

The toaster dinged. Sheila grabbed the toast and slung her backpack over her shoulder, heading for the door.

"Where are you rushing off to?" Catherine called after her daughter.

"Nowhere!" Sheila called back, shoving her feet into her sneakers, not bothering to do them up properly. She yanked the door open and was halfway through before she added "See you later!" The door closed.

Sheila trudged along the street, chewing on her dry toast, the hubbub of New York City drowning out her footfalls. She expertly avoided the worst of the crowd, although it was not as bad as usual. She also dodged the groups of teenagers. Sheila was not a loner, but preferred alone time to hanging out in packs. If she spent any time with company she preferred one-on-one interaction, and only had a couple of friends. She made a beeline for 2nd Time Around, an antique store. She was friendly with the owner of the shop, and loved to have a chat now and then.

"Hey, April!" Sheila smiled upon entering. The slim redhead behind the counter looked up from her magazine.

"Hey! Sheila! You're late." April grinned, leaning on the counter with her elbows.

"It's Saturday!" Sheila exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "You're supposed to sleep in! Either that or watch cartoons."

"Or both," April smiled. "Nothing planned for today?"

Sheila shook her head.

"Nope. Nothing. All my school friends have plans, and I've done all my homework!" Sheila spread her arms wide. "I can do whatever I want!"

"So you came here." April nodded. "Good choice. Want to come up for some tea? I was going to have a break now anyway."

"Sure." Sheila switched off the 'on' sign at the front of the strore and followed April up the stairs to her apartment.

"Make yourself at home," April offered, gesturing to the couch. "I'll put the kettle on." Sheila sat on the couch, casting the room a brief once-over with her right eye. It was quite small, but April had made good use of the space.

"Do you like sugar in your tea?" April called from the kitchen.

"Yes please. Two spoons," Sheila called back. She settled back onto the sofa, setting her backpack on a nearby chair. The Saturday Star lay open to the coverstory on the coffee table. Sheila, having nothing better to do, picked it up.

It was a sizeable column, about the four supposed 'heroes' of the gang world, titled 'The Shadow Warriors – Another Sighting!' The handful of brief eyewitness accounts all said that there were four of them. They stuck to the shadows, never let anyone see them straight on, but were notorious for showing up in the nick of time to save people. Sheila scanned the article bordly, not believing a word.

Just the press stirring stuff up again, Sheila thought in disgust.

"Here's your tea," April announced, handing the girl a steaming mug.

"Hey, April, watcha think of these 'Shadow Warriors'?" Sheila asked the redhead, blowing on her tea. She gestured to the paper.

"Uh… nonsense of course," April answered, averting her eyes from the girl. Sheila's interest peaked at her wary tone.

"Yeah. Complete bull," she agreed, watching April with her eye.

April nodded vaguely, sipping her scalding tea. She picked up the paper and studied one of the blurry, black-and-white photographs that decorated the page. "No real evidence at all." She tossed the Star back onto the tabletop. "I need more sugar. Be right back." She hurried to the kitchen, forgetting her tea in the process. Sheila grinned to herself. Her friend was hiding something.

She noticed the draw of the coffee table was open a crack. Noting April was busy pretending to rummage around for the sugar, Sheila eased the draw open and quickly scanned the contents. It had a folder in it, paper clippings sticking out of it. An inspection showed it was all articals about the 'Shadow Warriors', neatly cut out and marked with the date. Sheila was really interested now. Something was up.

"Found it," April said brightly, waving a small plastic container. Sheila jumped and shoved the draw shut, whirling around, trying to hide her snooping attempts.

"Uh… great! Look, thanks for the tea, but… I gotta go… Mom told me to be back by… now, so, I'll catch ya later, kay?" Sheila got up and swung her backpack over her shoulder, smiling all the time. April looked a little surprised, but grinned back.

"Okay. Sure. See ya later, Sheila." Shiela nodded and left the shop.

Sheila tried to shake off the weird feeling as she walked slowly in the direction of home. It was obvious April was hiding something, and Sheila was now deadly curious. She could not stand not knowing something. It was one of her weaknesses. She just had to find out what was going on.

Suddenly a thud from a nearby alley alerted her to a scuffle up ahead. Normally she would have avoided it like the plague, (probably a gang fight) but she was suddenly struck by the thought that it might me the 'Shadow Warriors' in action! Unable to resist the temptation, Sheila, ignoring her counsious that was screaming at her to turn back, stepped into the alley.

It was dark and stank, but this did not perturb her. She peered cautiously around a dumpster, eye adjusting to the dim light.

"Listen, punk," a gruff voice snapped. "Jus' hand over da cash and I won't kill ya."

"N-no! Go away you – you – freak!" A high, squeaky, adolescent male voice sounded.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya." A sickening thump was heard, and Sheila could see a limp form on the ground. A guy standing in the shadows was watching him, and when he did not get up, turned, disgusted, to the huddle of other gang members cowering near the alley wall.

"Get out," he snarled. The youthes turned and fled.

"Nice going Raph," a gentler but annoyed-sounding voice cut in. A dark form was squatting near the gang-member's prone form on the ground, examining it. "You nearly killed this one."

"If he hadn't o' been stealin' in da first place, I wouldn't've had ta," the other retorted. "Les get outta here, Donnie. Fearless Leader wants us home now."

"Fine, fine," the angry guy's companion replied. "C'mon, Mikey." A figure slid out of the shadows. As it stepped into the soft light filtering in from above, Sheila had to bite back a gasp; the person wasn't human at all; it was a turtle!

A large, human-sized turtle-thing! It wore an orange bandanna, and shoulder- and knee- pads, and a belt, into which it had thrust a pair of what she guessed to be nunchakus. It was male, she guessed.

"Good, I'm starvin'," the orange one mumbled. It clutched at its stomach – no wait, plastron – groaning in apparent pain.

"You only ever think about food, Mikey," the gentle voice teased. Sheila could now see that it was a turtle just like Mikey, and wore a purple bandanna. The one wearing red was hovering behind his companions, eyes flitting around, wary.

Suddenly a burst of sharp pain hit Sheila's head, on her blind side. She yelped, falling sideways. The last thing she heard were the turtle-creature's startled yells before anothing blow sent her spinning into unconciousness.


CPQ: D'fly Rider thinks you're gonna kill her for not updating Hidden Truth, I had to poke extra hard to get her to put this up. I hope you all are happy!

DFR: (cowering in corner) Don't kill me! Don't kill me! I'm too young to die! Really! WHAAAA!

CPQ: Jeez, get a hold on yourself girl! Please review! Reassure her you won't kill her. She's on the verge of a nervous breakdown.