Hello! This is my first submission. I hope you enjoy! I welcome ANY comments… I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING FROM TMNT! But I LOVE them so much!

1 Angry Overture

I never thought it would ever be possible for me to find someone like Amber, but I did. I first meet her the night I get lost.

"What the fuck? I've lived down here for 25 years and now this?! Ugh! …I'm just glad I'm alone."

I'm too stubborn to go back the way I came and I'm too proud to call my brothers for help. It's all because I'm a hothead! Once my temper gets the best of me I wander away from the lair until I cool off. I never get too far. Sometimes I go up top and perch on a roof. Sometimes I muck through the sewers. This time I'm so angry, I'm not even sure how far down the pipeline I travel once the red leaves my eyes… "Oh well, I ain't got nothin' better to do now, so I might as well keep goin'."

It's now one a.m. I'm pissing myself off. Grumbling, cussing…. I still don't know where I am! I suddenly stop and listen. It's very quiet right now, even for underground. I'd regularly hear water running or dripping, pipes popping, cars going by overhead… but nothin' now. I swing my cheap little flashlight around and realize that I'm standing on black and white tile, much cleaner than I expect. I look up and see a manhole cover, the first one in over an hour. Something strange… there is a metal ladder going up, the kinds used in scaffolding. I climb up and see a dead lamp with its electrical wires fitting through a hole in the heavy lid. What the hell. I push up and cautiously look inside.

It looks like a basement. Faint light is shining through a thin window facing the street. I can hear a couple cars go by now. My eyes adjusting, I see some very old steps, a closet door and a stack of boxes. I also see something catching the light in the far corner. In that corner, on top of a stool I see a six-pack of beer… I am stupid sometimes. I'm being stupid right now. But I'm also the only one in the room. And I ninja stealth like a boss! ...I'm also an over-zealous rationalizer too, as my brainy brother would put it. I keep the manhole cover propped using one sai and roll over the wrinkled tatami mat toward the stool without a sound. I stand and inspect the beer. Knowing I should have just grabbed it and left, I pick out one of the bottles anyway. I don't even realize how cold it is. There is a bitter-looking tree drawn on the label. I wince and whisper, "Angry Orchard?" I use my other sai to snap the top off. Take a swig.

I don't notice this either, but as I close my eyes and become enthralled by the sweet taste of the hard cider, the door I assume is for a closet swings open and the light therein exposes every piece of me. The shadow of the person in the doorway runs over the stool and the disturbed case of spirits. My lips finally leave the half empty bottle and I exhale, "My, oh my, that's somethin' delicious…"

The person in the doorway speaks. Her first words sting my spine frozen.

"Uh, yeah, I know. That's why I bought it."

I look over at the woman wearing a big long shirt standing in the threshold of her bathroom door. Her figure slowly softens in the light behind her. I don't know what to do now. I feel so fuckin' stupid! Seconds go by and we still stand there looking at each other. I can finally focus on her face. It's expressionless. Her almond-shaped eyes, round nose, high cheekbones, her full lips, expressionless, kinda pretty too. Her arms are folded, holding a book in one hand. She's blinking a lot and her breaths are rapid. Her shoulders are stiff and her knees are locked. She's trying not to look startled but her body betrays her. She speaks again, shaking the book, "I just knew it… I knew this would happen one day. I keep reading these sci-fi books; I knew one day you aliens would come for me."

She shakes her head and smirks slightly. Really… she thinks I Star-Trekked into her basement to steal her alcohol and abduct her? It is kinda funny but I'm not ready to laugh yet. Her shoulders relax, maybe realizing the irony of it all, almost welcoming her 'demise'. She cocks her head, eyes still locked onto mine and I turn fully toward her.

"Sorry, I ain't no alien, sweetie." I shrug. "I'm… a mutant."

"Like that's a better option." She snaps at me and glances over at the open manhole cover. She frowns a little. I think I disappoint her with my way of entry, coming from below and not from above.

"What part of town is this?" I ask nonchalantly.

She furrowed her brow, "Brooklyn, 63rd Street."

I nod and down the rest of the sweet tonic in one big gulp and dangle the bottle with two fingers.

"Catch." I say as I toss the hollow bottle at her, I dash toward the manhole, slide underneath, grab and release my sai. The cover comes down in one loud clank by the time I'm at the bottom of the scaffolding ladder. I hope she caught the bottle. I reorient myself, now that I know where I am and head toward home. I smile broadly and hum a little laugh. I've never been called an alien before.

…

It's been two weeks since that night… since I'd stolen that fizzy apple ale. Later I had asked my hockey masked-wearing friend to pick up a six-pack. He'd asked me where I'd heard of it. I'd told him a bottle of it dropped from a sewer grate a while back. I tasted it and had been feenin' for it.

Now I'm sipping from the chilled bottle. It's cold, crisp and fruity. It reminds me of her. That night. Now that I think of it, she didn't scream or faint or anything when she saw me. She didn't shrink back or stutter. I mean, yeah, she was shocked and it's New York, you're bound to see a lotta crazy shit out here but…

I sink in my seat as my youngest brother jumps up, pauses his Halo game, tosses the controller and practically runs toward the bathroom. Judging by the hills and valleys of chip bags and chocolate bar wrappers strewn around his area where he sat, he'll be in the crapper for a while. I grab the remote and switch to the channels. Never nothin' good on, but, what ya gonna do? I unintentionally land on the public access channel. This goofy-looking host is walkin' toward the camera, storefronts of various wares behind him, "Welcome back to our New York hidden gems special, Brooklyn Hotspots. Today we focus on the bright and cheery corner of 63rd and Hudson."

Brooklyn…63rd…

The doofus rambles on about record stores and Internet cafés, vintage clothing boutiques and sandwich shops. I allow him to drone along and I begin to nod off.

Then I see her on the screen; her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her lips. Yup. And she's smiling now, attending to her customers in the bookstore. Gooftroop host is still yappin', something about Bubba and his Bookstore been there over forty years and his niece has recently taken over. I just sit here, watching her intently. She looks much more at ease in the daylight. Her eyes dance around her work area as she wraps up the sold books and send her patrons on their way.

"Why wasn't she afraid of me?" I say aloud to myself. Hell, her fear or lack there of doesn't matter now. She saw me and knows I exist. I gotta do better! Me and my brothers are very careful to keep our identities secret. It's our most valuable possession. I don't wanna be hunted down or locked up or dissected because of stupid mistakes. We work in the shadows, protecting people while protecting ourselves. And I don't handle this responsibility loosely. I mean, yes, the only two human friends we have now were because of me. Okay. And yes, one of them happened to be a news reporter and she could have made a million dollars by ratting us out. So sue me!

…and there was that pizza delivery boy…

We were lucky.

Me and my bros seemed to be fated with the shadows. Helping but never thanked. Rescuing but never kissed. I just get tired of it sometimes. Yeah, people are real glad when they're saved from a mugging, or a beat-down, but how would they respond if they knew it was me who saved 'em? A six-foot tall walkin', talkin' bad-ass turtle? Well, there was that one time, I clocked this fool, smashed him against a dumpster, just when he was about to have his way with this chick. I shouldn't have revealed myself, shoulda just did what I needed to do and run off but… she was gorgeous! …Big green eyes, long wavy hair in like five different shades of blonde. It was mid winter, still very cold, and she was all bundled up. Her hat had been ripped off, thrown at my feet before I intervened. I decided to try my luck and hand her her hat. As she looked up at me from beneath the hard light of the lamppost, I literally saw her smile melt away and her green eyes got even bigger as they bulged. She was still screaming by the time the cops showed up. She was still screaming as I disappeared over the nearest building's ledge.

Never again.

Not until two weeks ago. Not until her…

But she was an accident.

Yawning, I hoist myself up, deciding to take a nap. I drop the remote on the couch, knowing Lil' bro would soon be returning. As I creep to my room, empty bottle in hand, the last words I hear the Corndog host on the TV say, "…If your ever in the Brooklyn area and you yearn to discover the real essence of the town, be sure to visit its people and their shops that make 63rd Street the charm of the district."

I just might.