Okay! Hello all! This is my first attempt at a full story on FanFiction. I love to write, but sometime have a hard time dedicating myself. There, you have been warned.

My deep, dark confession: I don't know much about TMNT. –GASP- Yeah I know. As I am writing on the subject, I will most definitely be looking into it and doing the very best I can. But if I get something wrong you may by all means alert me. Just please don't be blathering on pointless information or things I frankly don't care about. Good ideas are welcomed and so are your thoughts, like I said.

I purely write for the joy of writing and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is a great subject.

Disclaimer ("Finally!" you might say): As you probably well-know by now due to my continual babbling, I do not own the ninja turtles. However, I think that they are totally cool and I want to do them justice.

Rated 'T' for violence, adult themes, and minor language.

Manhattan is beautiful in the fall.

Well, that was my opinion. Regardless of the steel and concrete structures which towered high and cold that composed the city, there were some beauties that had not been tainted.

Central Park, for instance, was quite a lovely place to be during the fall. The weather was cool and crisp. Strangely comforting was the harsh breeze playing with my hair. It brought back memories. I loved the cool weather. I sat on the park bench, lips pulled up into a smile as I gently tapped a foot to the rhythm of the coming season. Each time of the year had its own 'heartbeat.' Its own song.

The chill of autumn had come quickly and the people of New York were swift adapters. I couldn't help but remember what it had been like living in the country. Fall was the time of harvest and though there was plenty excitement traveling around, the people began to slowly deflate for the fact that summer was over. Clearly the hottest time of the year was a favorite where I had come from, in Pennsylvania. Things were different in the city.

I was almost sad to leave the park, crowned in its golden autumn glory, and the unnatural solitude I had discovered. The temperature was beginning to decline steadily and I found myself hastening to get to my car before the sun dropped completely below the horizon of skyscrapers and the silhouette of the city.

With a short burst of laughter, I picked up into a soft sprint. Soon I was running along with the wind and racing the multicolored leaves that it propelled. All too soon it was over and my hour of mirth had ceased. Life was packed too tightly together, it seemed. There wasn't enough time to have fun.

This is me. This is my story. As unbelievable and implausible as it seems, it might amaze you.

I soon reached the parking lot, flushed and feeling a little silly for my running bout.

The ignition of the car revved to a start as I turned the key, pulling into reverse. I didn't reach for the heater, my fingers tingled.

"Yes, you definitely are a weird one," I muttered to myself, "You prefer the cold…"

"Alice McKellen! You've finally decided to join us today!"

My boss was a stout man, urgently needing a shave and usually carrying around a rather dangerous-looking kitchen utensil. He cooked better than any of the other employees and was incessantly haughty of the fact.

I stalked inside the diner, quite clean in contrast to my boss with his shabby appearance. That didn't concern him, he did more than his job back in the kitchen…but if I showed up one day with bed-head and large circles under my eyes, I would get kicked out. I was a waitress. Appearance was important.

"Aye, aye sir!" I swept a goofy bow, wide smile sliding onto my features. Gracefully I plucked the baseball cap from my head and shed my coat, skipping behind the counter to retrieve my waitress outfit. "Sorry for the delay," I added, just in case he really was ticked off today.

He wasn't, and Mr. Barb shook his head with a slight grin down at me.
"Out playing around again, were you?" he said knowledgably, shaking the spatula as one would wag a finger at a naughty child. I opened my mouth to reply but waited until he had finished barking out another order to the back room.

"At least you won't have to worry about me staining the reputation of our wholesome business with black deeds," I said seriously, eyebrows raised as I reached behind my head to tie my rebellious hair into a ponytail.

He laughed and waddled back into the kitchen, I was off the hook. Well, mostly. I turned to face a womanly figure with her hands planted on her hips.

"Alice! I'm so relieved you're here!" Betty, my coworker, rasped. She was tall, curvy and slender for a woman of thirty-eight. She smelled distinctly of cigarettes and smoked them whenever she gave up on gnawing on nicotine chewing gum. Her mouth was empty at the moment and stretched into a lemon-sucking grimace. She glanced over her shoulder at something and the frown intensified.

I hesitated, though my fingers never fell in speed as they hurriedly bound the apron behind my back.
"Truly. I am sorry, Bett. Can I work an extra hour earlier tomorrow to make up for it?"

"Were you in Central Park again?" She handed a young man and his date change as they paid. I was silent.

"So, what do you say?" I squeaked. An extra hour would be painful, but I could do it. Betty was a wonderful co-worker, and I didn't want her or any of the others to think I was a major slacker.

She smiled, "I'll tell you what, I have an idea how you can make up for it right now. I'm doing waitress duty right now and…" she jabbed her finger over her back and grunted. I stood on tiptoes to peer over at a certain couple sitting isolated in one of the booths.

"Ah." The ex-boyfriend. Gotcha.I conveyed this message with my eyes and snapped on my name tag with a flourish. I seized my notepad and stepped lightly over to begin my work. I smilingly felt Betty's eyes follow my progress as she removed her apron and uniform.

That was how things worked. I struggled not to be late, but sometimes a persistent last trait would rear its ugly head. I loved working the job, even when it was a tiring day and everyone was in a bad mood, or when it went overtime, or when we had bad business. It wasn't a big paying job, but it was something…and I was happy to have it.

It didn't matter whether I worked extra or not, my boss was a nice man. Because I had come in late that day I was dubbed eligible to stay until closing and help with the mopping. Oh joy. I didn't complain, but it was slow.
Betty left promptly after I had done her ex-boyfriend and was sure to throw a few dirty looks over at them. I smiled in spite of myself; she could make you a miserable person if you really asked for it.

All in all, it was another regular day.