Midnight, dead tired and unwilling to sleep, April leaned upon the closed door as she flipped the upper lock, bottom lock, and strung along the chain until it clicked securely. Spending those extra hours at the station was a bad idea, but was completely worth it. The story needed to be told and required extensive research, and she intended to enter the office the following morning well prepared, more so than usual. But after locking the door and the last wisps of midnight air tickled her cheeks, thoughts of the story retreated to the back of her mind, and her sluggish feet climbed on her sofa, leather squeaking and catching itself.

Jacket removed, boots on the carpet, she lied on her back and rested her arm over her eyes. Sleep inched dangerously close, was half a step behind, and she felt her eyelids drip lower underneath the cloth of her sweater. Soon, she predicted, Really soon.

"You didn't call." Groaning, April slunk her arm to the side and raised her head. Eyes blurred she didn't immediately recognize the mass of flesh draped in turquoise and white, but she knew the voice's owner.

"Augh, Mom-,"

"Don't need to get snarky."

April bopped her head on the sofa's arm and cracked a tired smile, "I was going to-really," flat expression responded to her, "but everything moved quickly. And it isn't that far of a walk, or a subway ride.""

Her roommate was unamused, and to a lesser extent, unimpressed. She sat in a plush, bean-bag chair straight from the nineties, and when she sighed, dramatically so, her great hair's curled strands bounced in and out, "You were one of the main reporters working on the Sacks incident, and I know that's gotta give a girl a major confidence boost, but it isn't safe in New York, especially at night."

But I wasn't alone, was her immediate rebuttal carried in her arsenal, but she never considered saying it. April was attentive. She walked home alone, often, but she was never alone. In the upper skies, shielded by the shadows (she saw the quick steps), she was aware of his presence, of his eyes staring down as she made her journey home. She didn't know if this was a part of his patrol route; he modified it was the warm drum in the pit of her stomach. Or if he ever stayed for the entire duration of her walk, but she was reassured, always, that she would make it home safely. When she visited below she didn't inquire or make mention of his movements, of his considerate gestures, but perhaps the unsteady gaze, the warmly gruff words were his manner of expressing it-of giving her notice.

It was impossible to say it to the woman who sat opposite to her with worry held in her eyes.

"I know, and I'm sorry, Irma." She meant it too.

"Yeah, me too," she stretched in her bean-bag chair, and the drumming laptop slid down her lap, "who stays up 'til midnight blogging?"

"It's better than tweeting."

When she leaned in the beanbag, April noticed that despite the woman's eyes closing her attention was still strangely alert. More awake than asleep, she moved from her sleeping position and pulled her legs off the sofa. Her eyes were sharp and awake, and her head was swollen with unsaid contemplations. He was there, she remembered, He was watching out for me. This was an undeniable fact, and instead of disturbed, she was warmed. He moved quickly in the night, expertly on the buildings surfaces. She didn't think he mis-stepped, and whenever she chanced to look in the direction of suspicion, just the wind.

But it easily could've been his brothers. She knew she was special to the entire family, as they were special to her.

Her silent vigil ended, Irma closed her laptop.

"Wait," April swallowed thickly, "you've dated guys before right?"

Leaving the room, laptop in arm, Irma paused and her eyes widened slightly, "Yeah?" Then her eyes narrowed, "Were you at a guy's?"

"No!" Fully awake, "There's this guy-,"

"Name."

"No name."

"No name?"

"Are you listening?"

"Fine." She scurried to the sofa and sat on the other side with her legs crossed. In the right light, her eyes were light with expectancy.

"Look, there's this guy, and he's a bit rough, grumpy even, but he's like the one of the greatest guys I've ever met."

"Second to your dad?" Irma chuckled and nodded, "Ok, so, is he into you?"

Is he? Several months ago she wouldn't have been able to answer that question, but there were many misses in their relationship. Many missed kisses, many missed touches, and either he or she, more so he, retreated before the other was given the chance to process what occurred.

Despite those misses, April was positive, "Yeah, he is. He's just…worried, and afraid."

"Or you?"

"No," April sighed and turned to Irma fully. She clutched one leg under the other and closed her eyes, "I get it. It's a big chance, a risk, and I understand why he wouldn't want to." She turned this over in her head for weeks; she understood the fear and danger. But she was more accepting of it than he,

"But you're willing to, aren't you?" Irma breathed deeply, "Look, whoever this guy is if you think he's worth it, then go for it. You've got to make the first leap."

"Yeah, I think I do."

"And talking will probably help too." Entangled in their easy laughter and casual smiles was concealed confusion and resistant mysteries. Irma's unsure distance met April's resistance, and although the latter felt some guilt, it was nowhere close to the adequate amount that would push her into admitting the truth. But even in that, April discovered, was the quiet acceptance of what balanced their relationship. Their forged harmony was one April was surprised and proud of, and as Irma gathered herself once more, she watched with lazy eyes as her shadow drifted down the darkened hall.

In her bed, April's eyes drifted again, more promisingly. She thought of him, of him and her, and thought of what the possible future held. But she didn't mind the present. The present was fine as it was, but she knew it couldn't remain as this forever, not for long.

She's definitely no Taylor, as her subconscious took over in the moonlight, and she turned to her side, feeling the familiar breeze of a vigilante, vanishing shadow.

A/N: "Roomies" takes place at least three to six months after the main movie where Taylor (April's roommate) has moved out and returned to living with her parents. If April is to ever get a new roommate, why not Irma? TMNT 2k14 is tons of fun, and the characters, visual, and jokes are a treat. Also, I wanted to try my hat at writing Raphril, and there are two more planned after this, dealing with Raph's feelings for April and then the big finale. I'll get to working on that as soon as possible.

To those who read, reviewed, both, and all the rest, thanks! All feedback is appreciated.