M.D. Owen came up with an idea on stealthystories where April and Karai switch places. So she's the smartypants that caused this.
"Ah, this is so great! My friends, my family will finally see I really do work with the Baxter Stockman."
April O'Neil peered up at him, her eyes glinting under the artificial light of the room. The man in question smiled, crossing his arms and lifting his chin upwards. How he loved the sound of his own name, especially when spoken in a voice like hers. It drifted off her lips like steam, meeting the underside of his chin with a pleasant warmth. Her mouth was poised innocently, a hint of pearly teeth like an island in a sea of lava.
Stockman inclined his head to one side, not bothering to hide the smirk that spread smugness across his face like a pebble falling into a pond. Coolly, he replied, "You flatter me, Ms O'Neil. I like that."
Slightly similar to the smugness that had engulfed her colleague, a wave of pink danced across April's cheeks. She smiled, tilting her head to one side. The strands of hair that hung in front of each of her ears swished like a metronome and Stockman followed the movement with his eyes, repositioning them onto April's face a few seconds after they became still.
Then she turned away and began typing. Stockman's eyes lingered on her unkempt hair, but he didn't view it in a negative way.
"You'll go to high places, Ms O'Neil," he told her, placing a hand onto her shoulder. April rewatched the video clip of the two of them showing off the mousers. It had been an exciting experience for her: her first appearance on television. April's parents had promised to record it. She wondered if it would sound arrogant if she asked for a copy. April still couldn't get her head around it all. She hadn't expected to actually get a job as Stockman's apprentice, let alone appear on TV with him. It was a dream come true.
April squirmed and piped up modestly, "I'm already working with you, Doctor Stockman."
He threw his head back and laughed, waving a hand vaguely in her direction as he spun on his heel. His leather shoes squeaked as he strode away. April sat up straight.
"The routine diagnostic check has started. Shall I stay until it's finished? I'm sure there's nothing wrong but it doesn't hurt to be safe, right?"
With her back turned, she didn't see him flinch.
"Ms O'Neil, you have already done so much for me today. I don't want you to become overworked: you are invaluable! In fact..." He clapped his hands. "Why don't you have the rest of the day off? I dare say you deserve it."
Her face was positively glowing. "It's nothing, really. I don't mind."
Stockman shook his head. "I insist! Besides, it's nothing that I can't handle. Do you think I'm unable to watch a screen and see if an error comes up?"
"Of course not, sir!" she said, getting to her feet. April supposed it wouldn't hurt to leave work early. The dishwasher did need unloading, and there was that lavender soap Robyn had insisted she simply must try...
Stockman grinned back.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Doctor Stockman!"
"Until then, Ms O'Neil!" he sang, stretching the ends of his mouth upwards until she left the room. Then his fingers curled into the palms of his hands like burning paper. Stockman grimaced, ambling towards the computer. A high pitch beeping rang in his ears, disappearing with the touch of a few buttons.
"Eergh," he huffed. Each of the four screens displayed three rows, which in turn housed four columns, and approximately half of the squares this made contained diagrams of mousers. Stockman leered down at them and pressed a few more buttons. The empty squares were immediately filled with diagrams of mousers.
"Oh, this is so great, my family will finally see I work with the Baxter Stockman," he said in a slightly high pitched voice. "Oh, how she makes me laugh. I can just imagine it. 'Look, Mommy, look, Daddy; there's me on the television with the great Baxter-"
"Stockman?"
Stockman jumped. One of the screens now bore the chiselled face of a man, who was staring at him with a mixture of annoyance and confusion. Stockman gulped down a snarl and made eye contact with forced toleration.
"I want a status report," demanded the man on the screen.
"Uh, uh, uh; I want doesn't get," Stockman replied, waggling his finger.
"I haven't got time for your games," the man snapped, "and neither do you. Your invention failed its first field test."
Stockman rolled his eyes and said slowly, "That's because it was supposed to show everything that was wrong with them, so they could be improved. That's why it had a field test in the first place. Now, I can-"
"It would be wise to adjust your tone," said the man icily. He raised his chin so he could look at Stockman down his nose. His nostrils flared. "I have given you a generous amount of funding which I could easily redirect elsewhere."
Stockman gritted his teeth. The man sneered.
"I am glad that we have come to an understanding. I expect your mousers to be flawless. I don't want anything to go wrong in the final phases of my plan."
Stockman patted thin air and nearly snorted. "You insult my intelligence, Mr Oroku. They will exceed your expectations when the time comes."
"They better."
The screen turned off. Stockman sighed.
"He so needs a girlfriend."
TMNTNMT
Oroku Saki glared at the screen. If Stockman hadn't been so intelligent, Saki would have disposed of him. Squashed him for his impudence.
Saki hated to admit it, so he wouldn't, but Stockman was a genius. In fact, one could say that he was perhaps too intelligent. He always felt the need to put others down to make himself higher, with his forever rolling eyes and clicking tongue. The friction that was between them concerned Saki. What was to stop Stockman from twisting things so that he benefited more than him? Neither would neglect the opportunity if it was to arise and Saki didn't doubt that the scientist wasn't looking for one, assuming he hadn't already found one.
He was clenching his fist, imagining he was holding Stockman's head, when his throne room's door opened and two Foot ninjas rushed in. After them entered a raven haired woman, who was decked out in formal wear. Her dark red dress tried to cling to her thighs like a sloth, getting thrown off her slightly tanned skin with each step. Saki was glad that he had been able to drop out of the party that was being held downstairs. He despised them. He didn't want to talk to people he barely knew. He didn't want to listen to humans boast about their successes. He didn't care about their petty problems. He had far more pressing matters to attend to.
Karai, who was usually abroad running the Foot regiment in Japan, had come to visit him for the month and the party guests hadn't minded swapping Saki for his adopted daughter. She was certainly more pleasing to the eye of a middle-aged businessman than he was.
She stopped in front of Saki and bowed.
"Father," Karai spoke clearly, "you wished to see me?"
"Yes, Karai." He gazed at her coldly. "You know Doctor Stockman, I assume."
Scorn tainted her otherwise emotionless face. "I have heard of him."
"You are my most trusted ninja, Karai." She nearly smiled at that. He continued. "Doctor Stockman, in stark contrast, is not. I do not trust him to cooperate so willingly and have my suspicions that he has something planned that I am unaware of."
Karai understood. "I will investigate the matter immediately and report to you."
"I know you will not disappoint me," Saki replied, dismissing her. Something flickered across his face as he watched her leave, the heels of her shoes cracking the air. He widened one eye and added, "Because I do not accept anything less."