The Trade Off
Summary: Mikey and Don make an interesting trade off, but when Splinter calls them both to his room that evening, they know that they are done for. A spin-off from my first fic "Send in Michelangelo."
Disclaimer: I absolutely positively probably possibly do not own the concept of TMNT.
A/N: This is a spin off from my first fic "Send in Michelangelo" and it can stand on its own. You do not have to have read my first fic to get the gist of the story.
Mikey and Don stood before Splinter. On his desk were two pieces of paper that they recognized as their homework. Of course their actual homework load was a lot more than that but Splinter had singled out those two particular assignments because of certain anomalies in them.
"Donatello, I don't remember your spelling being so atrocious before." Splinter pointed to the paper in front of Don.
"And I don't recall you ever skipping more than two lines of working out in your algebra, Michelangelo." Splinter spoke likewise to Mikey. "Now would either of you like to explain yourselves?"
Both turtles shifted awkwardly on their feet.
"Michelangelo? Would you kindly like to tell me what is going on?"
Splinter had directed his question at Mikey because he knew that Mikey couldn't lie. Despite his expertise in designing and carrying out practical jokes, when he got put on the spot, Michelangelo was a hopeless liar. Now Don… Well Don didn't lie because he was not morally inclined to do so. But given the right motive, Splinter knew that Donatello had the capacity to look someone straight in the eye, tell them a complete fib, and have them agree with him.
"It was Don's idea." Said Mikey.
Splinter wasn't surprised to hear Mikey displace the blame onto someone else.
Seeing no way out of his predicament, Donatello took a deep breath. "Mikey came to me because he couldn't understand how simultaneous equations work so I told him I would only help him if he helped me with my assignment. It was a fair exchange."
"So instead of 'helping' him with his algebra, you took the liberty to complete his assignment for him." Said Splinter in disappointment.
"Yes." Don replied. "Yes I did."
Through out this whole exchange, Don's voice never faltered and he did not shift his gaze.
"I must admit, I am extremely disappointed in the both of you. I will reset your questions and you will redo your assignments. This time they are to be taken like tests with a strict time limit and no outside help."
"No!" Mikey fell to his knees in a dramatic gesture.
"Michelangelo, I will not be swayed by you Puss-in-Boots impersonations." Said Splinter, sternly.
Mikey got up and had a rather sulky expression on his face.
"Is there anything else you wish to say Donatello?" Splinter turned his gaze toward Don.
"Only that I hope the topic you set me this time will not be about sponges." Said Don in his mind. He did not voice his opinions.
"Very well. You may go." Said Splinter.
Mikey still looked sullen, as though he was about to say something, but Don grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out the door. Splinter shook his head and sat down to meditate. Outside, Mikey could be heard yelling at Don to "Let go of me!"
Earlier that day:
"I don't get this. How am I supposed to solve for any of these? There's two letters in each number-sentence." Mikey exclaimed.
"What? Let me see." Don couldn't concentrate on his work because Mikey kept talking to himself as he tried to grasp the complexities of algebra.
Mikey showed Don his work. Other than a roughly distinguishable problem set, written at the top of the page, the rest of it was little more than a whole bunch of scribbles.
"That's why there are two equations. Two unknowns. Two equations. Simple." Don replied.
"To you." Mikey stressed the 'you' in the sentence. "How do I solve them exactly?"
"Just look in the textbook. It tells you." Said Don.
"I don't know what century that book was written in, but I can't understand a word it's talking about. They might as well have written it in Gaelic." Said Mikey, eyeing his textbook sideways.
"It's not that hard. Have you even read it?"
"I just told you; I did. And I don't get it. You can do this with your eyes shut Donny. Please help me?"
"There's only so much I can do Mikey. I'm trying to do my own assignment here and your periodic wailing has not been very helpful."
"What 'cha working on?" Mikey asked brightly.
"Stuff." Don replied.
"That gives me a lot of information."
Donatello regretted telling Michelangelo about his work. Now that his curiosity had been aroused, Mikey would be sure to pursue the matter without end.
Sensing Mikey's inclination to get out of his seat, Don ran to his own table and snatched up his work.
"Oh come on Don, just let me see." Mikey quickly came over.
"No Mikey, it's my stuff." Said Don.
"Let me see." Mikey persisted.
"Go do your own homework."
"I'll scream." Said Mikey.
Don didn't move.
"I mean it. I'll yell my head off." Mikey raised his voice.
"Mikey…" Don took a step toward him.
"Everybody! Don's hiding his assignment! I don't know what it is, but he's really embarrassed about it!" Mikey yelled loud enough for everyone in the household to hear.
"Mikey, shut up!" Don quickly covered up his brother's mouth with his hand.
Mikey took the opportunity to snatch Don's assignment out of his other hand.
"Mikey!"
"Let's see what this mystery assignment is all about." Mikey unfolded the paper.
He took one look at the assignment question and burst out laughing.
"Very funny. Ok you've had a look. Now can I have it back." Don sighed.
Mikey gave him the paper back but did not stop laughing.
"Sponges… hilarious!"
"Fine, I'll help you with your mathers questions." Said Don in a long, drawn out and suffering tone. "Anything to shut you up."
"I got an idea. How 'bout you do my maths questions and I'll do your essay for you. How's that sound?" Mikey piped up.
"Mikey that's cheating." Said Don.
"Come on. Don't be such a Leo impersonator. We can bend the rules. Are you going to tell me that you actually like writing about sponges?"
"Mikey…"
"It's going to be alright. It'll be between you and me. No one else need know a thing. It'll be very clean."
"Mikey, Splinter knows what our handwriting look like."
"That's why I'm going to type up your work."
"And what about me? I can't just type up your maths problems."
"I've got some old maths papers here. Just copy my handwriting."
"Mikey!"
"Come on Don, it'll be fun."
Fun? Don didn't see how any of this would be fun. But they were running out of time. He had wasted so much time talking to Mikey that there was no way he could get his work finished by five o'clock.
"Fine. But I'm never doing this again." Don gave in.
With a gleeful expression on his face, Mikey sat down to tackle Don's essay question: 'One hundred and one uses for a sponge.'