A/N: So here is the second part of The Tender Trap! This story is set one year after the events of Mikey's Girl. You really should read both The Tender Trap and Mikey's Girl to fully know what's going on, but I offer recap throughout, so hopefully if you haven't read it yet, it makes some sense. For my following readers who have read it, please forgive any info dumps or chunks of recap. I only hope they aren't too dull!

The Tender Trap - Part Two

Chapter One - Happy Birthday

The angel spread her arms wide and opened her wings and the feathers floated down around them as it did. White, downy feathers drifted on top of and around him as he moved slowly over her. She blinked languidly, her eyes meeting his and within them he read her need, the aching desire and hunger for him; the love; love for him, only him. He brought his mouth down and pressed it into her lips, sliding his trembling arms under her back, bracing her arching neck with his fingers; wrapping her in his embrace, gently pulling her closer. Her breath caressed his cheek and he nuzzled deeper into her dark hair and side of her neck; breathing in the cherry blossom and woody scent of her. He felt her racing pulse against his mouth as he kissed her throat, matching the pounding rhythm of his own. Her body arched and pressed into his. Over the sound of the blood rushing through his ears, he heard her gasp and her arms tightened their hold around him. He felt and heard her nails scrap against his shell, sending an involuntary shudder through him. He was close, but he didn't want it to end, he never wanted it to end; so he held on; he resisted and fought against his mounting need for release; struggling against the tide rising through him; not yet…not yet…

"Leonardo!" her voice; an urgent whisper against his skin feather-light but strong enough to tear him free from his weakening hold on control. Thundering joy and bliss stampeded through him as he let go, crying out wordlessly as he surrendered himself; all of himself to her.

A harsh voice hollered through his door, "Leonardo! Time ta get up!"

His eyes snapped open; pupils dilated and then contracted in the dim morning light. He blinked, unsure of where he was; laying on his shell; staring up at a foreign ceiling made up of cracked bricks and occasional cobwebs. The joyous fervor he'd been swept up in slid off him like a silk ribbon slipping through his fingers leaving him feeling empty and hollow; a bit sick to his stomach. His heart hammered, he swallowed thickly and turned his sweating brow to see his small alarm clock. He sighed heavily. He was in his room. Alone. As always. The date in tiny numbers stood out. He blinked.

October ninth. He was twenty-one today.

Karai gasped and sat upright in the center of her bed. She looked around at the silken, rumpled sheets and bedding surrounding her. The daylight was dying outside her window as evening approached. The sound of thunder rumbled far away; the noise like an irritated grumble from the gods. A cool breeze shifted the lace curtains making them billow out, bringing the scent of rain into her room; other than that, her bedroom was still. She was alone. But it was so real. No, it was only a dream. She dropped her head into her hands; running her shaking hands through her damp hair. Slowly she ran her fingertips over her lips, gazing out across the expanse of her room, not really seeing it; still seeing his deep blue eyes staring into her with love and desire, passion and tenderness. Her heart tripped with the vision. He was there. He was holding her, kissing her, loving her. She closed her eyes, she could still feel his arms around her; she could still almost taste him. Almost. She groaned and dropped her body back into the downy pillows and threw an arm over her eyes. She fought against the threatening tears.

It had been two years; and still she hurt for him; still dreamt of him almost every night. When would this torture end?

Biting her lip until the pain forced her to release it, she threw her arm down hard on the mattress, hand fisted. No longer was she a child. She was almost twenty years old; an adult now. Her orders sent men to their glorious triumph or wicked deaths. She had to accept that she would never see Leonardo again. Her father made sure of that by keeping her in Japan and keeping all her assignments local. She couldn't secretly cry and yearn for him any longer; had to let him go. She had to. It was for the best anyway. She rolled to one side, feeling miserable despite her inner voice's strong words.

Besides, he most likely hated her; her heart constricted with the thought. She wouldn't blame him if he did. The last he saw of her, she was her kicking his broken and battered body across a room filled with barbaric Foot soldiers and calling him weak and pathetic. Her head dropped into her pillows as tears burned the back of her eyes. It was the only way…in front of them all…if she hadn't they would have…she tried to save him. She even tried to leave him a personal message. Who knows if he ever saw the words she'd spray painted on the angel statue? Would he understand what she was trying to say to him? Dread stirred in her stomach as she considered how terrible it would be if he took it the other way. More games, more vicious taunts. Maybe she would've been wiser to leave things as they lay. But she had to try…

She smacked her forehead and groaned louder and dragged herself to sit on the edge of the bed. She glanced at the clock, October ninth was coming to an end and her day, or rather, her night, was just beginning. She was to meet her father at the night club that served as a front for some of his money laundering operations in a few hours. She walked to her closet and pulled out a simple dress so dark purple it almost looked black. Purple. It made her think of Leonardo's brother.

She remembered her pleading with him to tell Leonardo she hadn't betrayed him; still loved him with her whole heart. Begged him. She snorted softly. A lot of good it did. He gave her no indication that he would follow through. Her throwing away her dignity and honor seemed to have zero effect on him. She sighed, resigned. It didn't matter. That was all in the past. Leonardo would be safest if she kept away from him, no matter how much she ached for him. Frustrated, she crumpled the dress in her fists. She had to let him go. It was time to grow up.

She moved into the bathroom and started up the shower. Glancing in the mirror she frowned. Ugh, I need more sleep. She looked pale and gaunt to herself. Running her faction of the Foot had not been easy or remotely fun. Recently a new clan had begun to infiltrate some of their operations. Violence had been escalating and the stress was beginning to show on her face in worry lines around her eyes. It didn't help that her heart was never in it. She didn't care about the Foot or their lasting legacy in the world. Everything was gray without Leonardo in her life. Her heart really wasn't in anything anymore and the act she kept up to fool her father was wearing thin. She looked again at herself in the mirror with disgust. She couldn't keep going on this way. What kind of warrior was she?

"Grow up, Karai. Let this foolish obsession go." She pointed at herself, "You're not a child anymore."

As she stepped into the shower she hesitated and jumped in fright as a loud bang came from outside her bedroom door. The sound of men shouting had her heart pounding as she quickly shut off the water and threw on her dress. She raced out from the room, pausing only to grab the decorative katana displayed on her bedroom wall. It probably wasn't very sharp, but she didn't want to run into a dangerous situation unarmed.

She leapt into the living room; sword held in front of her body defensively. Her face shot up and she dropped the sword from her grip. Three soldiers raced from her kitchen and back to her living room, shouting and cursing in Japanese, carrying a bowl of water and towels. One of them was on a cell phone. She caught the words doctor and her address. Her eyes sought out the center of the chaos and found the figure of her father, the front of his suit and legs covered in crimson, slumped in one of her chairs.

"Father!" she whispered and ran to his side.

Michelangelo jumped out of the kitchen, spatula in hand as Leonardo quietly emerged from his room. He wore a pair of gray sweat pants and was shirtless.

"There's the birthday boy! I'm making you your favorite! Blueberry pancakes and bacon, extra crispy!"

Leonardo smiled at him and blinked as he made his way to their laundry room. His sheets in a tight bundle in his arms. Michelangelo frowned.

"Hey, Hey! No way, man. No chores on your birthday. No chores," he insisted, as Leonardo continued towards the laundry room ignoring his outburst, "Splinter's rule!"

"Uh…It's okay. I just need to…wash these."

Leonardo hurried along before Michelangelo could stop him, his face burning with mortification and embarrassment. The last thing he needed was for Mikey to grab his sheets from him and realize his shame. He hadn't dreamt of…her in a long time. At first, he could only lay in bed, exhausted but unable to sleep at all. Then as the weeks turned to months, he found himself drifting for a few hours at a time. When he was actually sleeping, he was either plagued by terrifying nightmares of his torture or the moments he shared with Karai beneath the angel statue or a horrifying mix of the two. Finally, over time, his body found a natural rhythm of restful sleeping and the nightmares eased away, but then he was only left with and tormented by vivid sensual dreams of Karai.

He crouched, looking for the laundry soap. He'd experienced being intimate with a woman…with Karai…something he never thought would even be possible despite his secret and deep yearning for her. And even though she had betrayed him in the most humiliating and devastating way…he poured the laundry soap into the chute, then slammed the container closed; throwing the bottle back into the corner where he found it…his traitorous subconscious seemed to endlessly obsess about the time he spent wrapped in her arms.

In his dreams the act was recreated in painfully realistic detail; exactly how her body, hands, lips, legs, everything felt, her scent, her voice calling out his name... His hands balled into shaking fists. It hurt to remember. It shamed him to think he would still desire her after everything she'd done to him. But those moments…they were before…before…when he thought she…when he was stupid enough, fool enough to think…she actually did want…did love…him.

He snorted, feeling his chest fill with a deep self-loathing; he crouched. He shoved the sticky sheets into the machine, punched the button to turn it on. He turned and leaned his shell against the churning washer; breathing heavy. He ran a hand over his face, held it for a moment above his eyes as he tried to calm himself. It was all in the past. It's over. It's been over. As one year turned to two, all the dreams had faded away. His nights were devoid of visions and he was grateful for it. He figured that even if he did still dream of her, he didn't remember it and he was grateful for that as well. That was, until last night.

He swallowed as the visions of the dream rose in his mind. The caress of her fingers against his flesh. The warmth of her body pressing against him. Her panting breath against his cheek. Her voice as she… Leonardo!

He clenched his jaw; turned and slammed his fist onto the top of the washing machine, creating a deep dent in the top. He stared at it with burning eyes. The machine rocked as it washed, now unbalanced. Damn. How was he going to explain this to Donatello? Raphael poked his head into the laundry room. Leo straightened, looked guilty for being caught with something other than neutrality on his face. He struggled to force his expression back into the blank mask that he'd adapted to wearing to shield his inner emotional turmoil from his family.

"Uh, happy birthday, bro," he said, and the careful note in Raphael's voice set his teeth on edge. Then Raph motioned with his thumb towards the room behind him. "Breakfast is ready."

Leonardo stared at the floor; rubbed one arm; nodded and followed Raphael to the kitchen taking deep breaths as he walked, trying to slow his pounding heart. Master Splinter was seated, sipping his steaming tea. Michelangelo set a plate before Leonardo, then Raphael as they sat.

"Here ya go! Happy birthday, Leo!" Michelangelo said happily.

"Happy birthday, my son."

Leonardo ducked his head in thanks, feeling slightly better. Donatello came in and poured a mug of coffee for himself. He tipped the mug in Michelangelo's direction.

"Thanks, Mikey." Mouth full, cheeks round, Michelangelo smiled; making his eyes squint and nodded at him. Donatello turned to Leonardo and clapped him on the shoulder, rubbed it affectionately. "Happy birthday, Leo." He glanced around at his family. "So, what's the plan for our big brother's big day?"

Raphael rubbed his hands together. A wicked smile spread over his face. Leo glanced at him and continued to eat, feeling a little nervous at the way he was smiling.

"You know how Casey has that friend up near 161st?"

Donatello stiffened at the mention of Casey's name, but kept his eyes to one side and only sipped his coffee and leaned against the counter near the stove. Michelangelo pointed to a plate he made for Donatello behind him. He glanced at it but suddenly didn't feel very hungry.

"Well, Casey told me he's got it all arranged. The guy's out of town and Casey is apartment sitting. Do you know what that means?" They stared at him with blank faces. Raphael's expression was one of smug triumph.

"You, brother of mine, are gonna see, in person, your first, official postseason Yankee's game!"

Michelangelo spit out his orange juice in a wide spray over the table and Splinter covered the top of his mug with a scowl in his direction. Stunned, Donatello stared open-mouthed at Raphael.

"What! Why didn't I know this?! Wait a minute. How the hell are we going to manage that?"

Raphael crossed his arms over his chest. "Relax. It'll be on the roof with binoculars. But it'll still be live and as close to in person as you can get. The guy usually rents out the space, but cuz he's outta town and Casey's doin' him a favor, it's all ours! Casey's bringing the goods. All we gotta do is show up." He smiled widely at Leonardo.

"But…won't we get spotted?" Michelangelo asked as he shoved the remaining pancake into his mouth and chewed noisily.

Raphael waved him away. "Nah, I came up with a plan."

Michelangelo exchanged glances with Leo as a small, but genuine smile spread across his face. The expression made Mikey happier than Leo would ever know.

"Oh boy. I hope you didn't hurt yourself too much, Raph, while you were thinking it up," Michelangelo teased.

Raph sneered at him, "Hardy-har. Keep it up and I'll hurt you, Chef-y."

Mikey mouthed the word 'chef-y' with a bemused expression, then mouthed what the hell at Donatello who only shrugged with a shake of his head, rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee. Raph turned his attention back to Leonardo who was sitting still and taking in the antics and happy energy of his family surrounding him. He felt the remaining feelings of yearning, anger and malaise from moments ago fading away as the sun burns away the storm clouds after a thunderstorm.

"You gave me the idea, bro. We'll go in disguise. We'll wear clothes, you know, sweatshirts and shit."

Master Splinter cleared his throat; shifted in his seat. Raphael ignored him. He was too excited.

"It's gonna be great." He leaned over and patted Leonardo on the shoulder.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Raphael shook his head, his green eyes sparkling. "You deserve it, bro. You only turn twenty-one once." He stood. "I expect nothin' less from you guys next year when it's my turn." He moved into the living room, pulling his cell from his belt. "I'm callin' Casey to make sure he doesn't need anything else. Someone call April for me," he hollered from the living room. "She's in charge of bringing us some clothes. Now that the cat's outta the bag we can remind her."

Donatello set his coffee mug down. He stared at the cracked linoleum beneath his feet, feeling the oppressive stare from Master Splinter; didn't dare meet his eyes.

"I…I'll do it," Mikey said loudly and his attempt at seeming causal was a complete failure.

Donatello swiftly fled from the room without a word to anyone as Michelangelo dialed and brought the phone to his cheek. Leonardo watched him go over his shoulder.

"Leonardo," Splinter said, catching his attention. He turned to his Sensei. "I have a gift for you as well, my son."

Leonardo ducked his head and blinked, staring at his now empty plate. He wasn't sure why, but his stomach suddenly felt tight and uneasy. The shame from his dream once again rose up inside his mind unbidden and uncomfortable. Logically, he knew he couldn't control what he dreamt, but it didn't help the guilt he felt about it, as though he'd somehow disappointed Master Splinter by some part of him still wanting her.

Splinter rose from the table. Leonardo stood and followed him. They passed Raphael who was talking rapidly into his phone. He flopped onto the couch, one leg over the arm rest. He barked out a laugh. Leonardo stepped inside the dimly lit space that made up Master Splinter's room. Immediately he knelt on the colorful zabuton mat. Splinter stepped to a closed cabinet with ornate scroll work on each door. He slid one side open and removed something. Then turned to face his son. He moved and knelt before Leonardo on a large cushion.

"When you and your brother's were only babies, I decided to give you each your own special day, as is the tradition among humans, marking the day you came into this world as a day of celebration. By the lines on your shell, it was easy to see that you were the eldest." He glanced at the box in his hands. Then handed it to Leonardo. "Happy birthday, Leonardo."

Slowly, he unwrapped the silken ribbon and let it fall away to his folded thigh. He lifted the hinged lid of the ornate bronze box and revealed a short sword within. He set the box on his lap and traced one finger along the length of the silver blade. It was shorter than two feet long, and the handle was wrapped with light blue silk with a braided tassel. Leonardo brought his fist to his chest, covered it with his other palm and bowed deeply.

"It…It is beautiful. Thank you, Sensei."

Splinter rested his hand on top of Leonardo's bent head. "You are most welcome, Leonardo," he said then continued in a bright voice, as he lifted the sword from within the box, "It is a Kodachi. Authentic and very well made. I had April's help in ordering it online."

Leonardo nodded and Splinter carefully replaced the sword.

"Yes, she does offer us some use," he mumbled under his breath.

Leonardo didn't know what to think about the comment. Things had been strained between his family and April since the trip to her family farm and the blow up between Casey and his brother. Donatello would not confess to any wrong doing. Casey felt that Donatello had betrayed him and had forced a wedge between him and April. Only through Raphael's persistent convincing and fighting did he finally settle on being almost civil around Donatello. All the while, Donatello remained defiantly silent despite Casey's accusations and Splinter punishing him repeatedly to get to the truth.

Though he felt disobeying Master Splinter was wrong, a part of him felt proud of his brother's stubborn willfulness. He always knew that Donatello had a tough streak inside. Besides, it was no one's business what had happened between his brother and April. If anything had even happened at all. They were all adults. No one had the right to interfere. Donatello had feelings for April for years, since the day he met her, in fact. If he still harbored those same feelings for April after all this time and she for him, they had a right to sort things out between themselves, whether Casey liked it or not.

Splinter's voice broke his contemplation on his brother's relationship woes.

"You are no longer a child, Leonardo. Now that you have turned twenty-one, you are an adult. I can no longer command things of you…but I want you to know that I am always here for you, for counsel or advice."

Their eyes met and Splinter could see in him how much he'd grown in the last two years. His deep dedication to training and complete obedience impressed him greatly. He'd feared for a time that his son's spirit had been broken by Karai's betrayal. More than a few nights had passed with Leonardo grieving his heartache for that wretched girl. But he had underestimated his son's fierce determination and tenacious spirit. Shortly after he had recovered from what he'd endured at the hands of Shredder, he had restored Leonardo's place as leader within their family. It was a wise decision. Splinter now saw before him a strong individual, a spirit made of steel and righteousness.

He only wished that his son communicated as openly with him as he used to. That was one aspect that never seemed to completely heal in the aftermath of everything he'd endured. Leonardo seemed distant and cut off from the rest of his family. Not as much as he did initially, he now smiled more and spoke more often, but he never completely came back to them. It was almost as if he lived in two separate worlds during the first year after he was rescued. There was progress, most assuredly where his brothers were concerned. But between him and his son, things were never exactly how they used to be.

He nodded and bowed to Leonardo, dismissing him; a sadness haunting the edges of his heart as he watched his son leave the room. He was unable to express his expansive pride in his son, unable to voice the glowing love he felt, the space between them too great. Splinter hoped his feelings showed through in his eyes, at least there was that possibility.

Donatello stared at the computer screen, one cheek propped up by his palm. He scrolled through the various information for converting gasoline driven vehicles to be run using grease. Michelangelo's excited voice moved through the lair as he spoke with April on the phone. The words blurred and bled together, replaced with her face in his mind's eye. Frustrated, he exited out of all the open screens and then powered down his computer.

He moved to his bed and laid back onto his shell; his arms going up next to his head, cradling the back of his head in his hands. Things had been so frustrating and confusing this past year. Ever since they visited April's farm house the previous summer and that night that Casey had accidentally dialed her cell phone. He sighed as he remembered. That night…

A/N: Dodges various items thrown at my head. I know, I know! What the heck happened in that BARN!? Thoughts? Theories? Well, you'll find out soon!

So what do you think? I started the Tender Trap with a dream sequence and wanted to do the same with this. Also, I need a sub-title, any suggestions? Otherwise it'll have to stay at The Tender Trap - Part Two, but that's sort of boring to me. Anyway, please PLEASE take a moment to leave your thoughts :D Thank you :D