A/N: Hello all! This year for Christmas, we're doing something different.

Pen: Avoiding fanfiction like the plague?

Nope. This is a one-shot for the new TMNT show. I've always been a fan of TMNT, long before Sonic, Batman, or any other super-hero themed show or any other fandom. And it's a disservice that we've waited so long to do one. But after binge-watching the new series, we had to do a story based on it.

Pen: Great.

Sword: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles belong to Nickelodeon, Peter Laird, and Kevin Eastman. The song and any likeness to Vanilla Ice belongs to Vanilla Ice. The story, me, and Pen belong to the author. Please do not use without permission. Cowabunga dudes!

Perfect Present Pursuit

Donatello traced the final line on the chart, capped the highlighter, and took a few steps back, checking his work. Satisfied, he wrote "April's Present" at the top. Every contingency planned for and solved on the chart to give April her perfect present was accounted for and every series of events ended with a hasty sketch of a happy Donatello and April and a Merry Christmas for all. Now there was nothing in his way except to get the present.

"Ooo, I like the red and green lines," Michelangelo said, smiling and admiring his brother's graph. "Very festive."

"Thanks," Donatello said. "I thought it—Huh?" He spun around to his large, sliding laboratory door, the lock unlatched and the door opened. "How did you get in?"

"Ninja, bro!" he said in a sing-song voice, sauntering to the graph. "I've got the lock-picking skills to break in anywhere." Donatello sighed and rubbed his eyes. Living with ninjas and maintaining privacy proved very difficult at times.

"Or the genius here needs to buy new locks," Raphael said. He lifted up the lock and it snapped off easily. "Seriously, for someone so smart, you'd think you be careful with security. There's dangerous things in here." He waved his arm at the laboratory table and shelves of jars and weaponry around the room. "Might as well invite everyone to walk right in."

Donatello wondered if he should install some laser grid to keep everyone out. "Dude, chill. You're starting to sound like Leo," Michelangelo said. Raphael growled at him and he cowered behind Donatello, hiding behind his brother's taller frame. "So," he said, "looks like you got it all planned out."

"Yeah," he said, smiling and focusing on the end result drawing.

"Awesome. So what are you getting her?" Everyone was silent for a few moments. "Donnie?" Michelangelo snapped his fingers in front of his face and the taller one's mouth twitched.

Raphael grinned and leaned his elbow on Donatello's shoulder. "You have no idea what you're getting her."

"I have no idea what I'm getting her," he said, clutching the sides of his head. Raphael rolled his eyes and headed for the door.

"Dude," Michelangelo said. "Christmas Eve is tomorrow."

"Do you think I don't know that?!" Donatello shouted, his voice cracking. Michelangelo recoiled. "Sorry. I've been stressed for weeks. I thought working on the graph would jog my mind, but now that I finished, I'm no closer to figuring out the perfect gift for her." He leaned on an empty space on the table and banged his forehead into it.

"Hey, relax," Michelangelo said, patting Donatello's shell. "I'll help you out. Just got to think of things she likes. She's into computers, right?"

"She already has one," Donatello mumbled, raising his head into his hands. Why couldn't he figure out something? Anything! He considered meditating on the answer again.

"How about a new Tessen?"

"Her Tessen is still good."

"Oh, she likes pizza, right?" Michelangelo clapped. "Get her a gift card for pizza. Or does she skate?"

"This is starting to sound like things you want for Christmas," Donatello said.

"Nah," he said, then added, "but if you're having trouble getting me something too, those are some ideas for you." He backed off at Donatello's annoyed frown. "Just throwing them out there."

"Better figure out something soon," Raphael said. He stood by the door wearing a smug grin. The other two turtles rushed over and peered out of the door's crack. In the den of the lair, April was behind the sofa.

"April," Donatello said, the lair reduced to a fuzzy pink haze that outlined her. Her blue eyes blinked slow and her ponytail draped over her shoulder. He reached out for her as a hand grabbed her arm. Rough, calloused, and fleshy pink. Pink? Not his hand. He followed the arm to its owner.

"Jones," Donatello said, gritting his teeth. Casey gained her attention, then patted down his jeans, digging through his pockets and black hoodie. He raised a finger to April, checking his fingerless gloves, and his white and black headband. "What's he doing?"

"I think he's giving her a present early," Raphael said. Finally, Casey found what he was looking for in his sneakers. He presented a flyer to April and beamed, the gap in his teeth front and center.

"The Albino Snow Christmas concert?" April said out loud. Donatello opened the door wider and listened closer.

"Yeah," Casey said. "I know this guy, he's a professional scalper. Said he could snag two tickets for us cheap. Want to go tonight?"

"Of course I do!" she said, hugging him. Donatello's blood boiled to his cheeks. "Thank you!"

Having seen enough, Donatello snuck into his laboratory, his brothers following him. He checked his chart and groaned. "Great. He gets her tickets to see Albino Snow and I'll have to one-up that. Something big and meaningful."

"Even though you have no idea so far?" Raphael asked.

"Yes, even though I have no idea so far," Donatello said, mimicking him.

Michelangelo laughed, but quickly stopped when Raphael cut his eyes at him. "Look, part of it is also in the presentation. If you want to do better than Casey, ask yourself: how will you give her the gift?"

That was worth factoring into his plan. "How about hidden in the tree?"

"Been done."

"Put it on her bedroom pillow?"

"You come off creepy enough as it is," Raphael said.

"Here," Michelangelo said, standing in front of him. "Just give it to her yourself. Pratice on me." He cleared his throat and adopted a fake, high-pitched tone. "Hello, Donnie. What did you get me for Christmas? Is it better than Casey's gift? Cause his was totally awesome."

"Who's that supposed to be?" Donatello asked.

"April. Duh."

"Have you met April? You sound like a trombone run over by a car."

Michelangelo huffed his cheeks. "C'mon, man. Go with it."

Shrugging, Donatello held out his hands, cradling an invisible gift. He smiled and used his best imagination that the short, orange-masked turtle before him was instead the brunette girl outside. For a moment, it worked and his nerves became fidgety and excited. "Hello, 'April.' I got you a—"

"Stop, stop. You're doing it like Casey," Michelangelo said. "You have to do better. You don't have the gap for his way."

"The gap?" Donatello's hand touched the sliver in his teeth.

"Yeah, didn't you see it out there? Casey has a huge gap from hockey. If you're going to be cute and adorkable, it's all about the gap. Or have freckles." He poked his cheeks for emphasis. "See? But don't worry." He patted Donatello's chest. "Maybe someday you'll have more teeth knocked out too and yours will be bigger than Casey's."

"Alright, that's enough help for today." Donatello shoved him out of the laboratory. "And don't come back in."

Raphael followed, but before he left, he said, "Look, the right answer will come along. Just look for something nice and stop worrying so much."

"Thanks for the input. Bye." When the door shut, Donatello looked at his chart. A better present. A better present. He could think of one better than Albino Snow. Who wants to go see a rapper like that anyway? I mean, 'Albino Snow'? Real clever name there. Snow is already albino. It's redundant. I can find something she'll like even more than a redundant rapper. He chuckled inwardly at his comment.

He racked his brain for an idea for a while, but his mind ran in circles. Splinter often told the turtles that meditation was best for seemingly impossible problems, as a solution would present itself. None had in his past sessions, but trying again wouldn't hurt. Breathing deep, Donatello emptied his thoughts of gift ideas, April, Casey, and his worry and stared at the Christmas lights strung up in his lab. "Blank," he said to himself, exhaling. "Completely and absolutely blank." He shut his eyes, but immediately snapped them open. An idea! He had an idea!

First, he laid out a blueprint and drew meticulously, calculating every component of the present. Once done, he ran around his laboratory, gathering two bicycle wheels and metal pieces. With a blowtorch, he fashioned the pieces into tubes and screwed them together in the frame of a bicycle. For a couple of hours, he worked tirelessly on his project, only emerging from his laboratory to grab a slice of pizza when Leonardo brought some.

Michelangelo laid on his stomach in front of the television, wrapping a present as he watched Super Robo Mecha Force Five. Bits of torn red paper and strips of tape were scattered at his feet. The lair and all the rooms were decorated in strands of multi-colored lights along the ceiling and sewer support columns. Michelangelo had hung wreaths on everyone's door and even saved one for the Shellraiser. But the most eye-catching was the Christmas tree in the sunken sitting area where the television was. All the turtles had scrounged together all the ornaments they could find, such as scratched balls, tinsel half-torn apart, or broken carvings, while other gaudy pieces filled the rest, like a Florida flamingo holding a MERRY CHRISTMAS sign. April donated some of hers as well. One that Donatello enjoyed in particular was a white ornament in the shape of a sleigh with a picture of the turtles and April in the middle, each smiling and laughing. Several presents already sat nestled beneath the scraggly lower branches.

Donatello caught a brief glimpse of two giant robots on the show, a white and black rabbit and a lime green turtle battling one another. "C'mon!" Michelangelo said, scarfing down pizza. "Ninja kick the rabbit!" Then he noticed his brother watching. "Donnie!" he whined, throwing himself onto the present. "Get out! I'm wrapping yours."

"Alright, alright," he said, walking off. "I was just grabbing some pizza." Michelangelo narrowed his eyes and pointed his fingers at them, then at Donatello, trailing him back to the laboratory door.

"How's your project coming?" Raphael asked from the sofa.

"Good. Great," Donatello said. Casey was gone. Probably out getting the tickets. He finished his pizza and hurried back to the bicycle.

Within an hour, he was finished and proudly surveyed his work. A violet bicycle, complete with the finest engine mounted to the rear that he could find. With one push of a button on the control panel at the front, it could do zero to sixty in three seconds. Plus stop and turn on a dime. He pushed one button on the handlebars and a screen unfolded from the panel, displaying a small city map and list of contacts, pre-loaded with all the turtles' t-phone numbers. Another button activated a metal shield to cover the front, providing cover for the rider. All in all, it was safe, efficient, and a good replacement to April's current bike.

Donatello unfurled some wrapping paper and wrote out a tag. To: April, Love: Donnie. He quickly scribbled out the last part. Too strong. How about 'From: Donnie'?

Happy with that, he focused on the bicycle. "Just need to tweak the engines," he said, taking a screwdriver and popping the control panel's lid. He hummed a Christmas carol to himself, already picturing April's reaction. She would be so pleased. He pushed the switch that fired up the engines and flames shot out of them, scorching the walls. The bike rumbled and burst forward, smashing through the wall with its shield. It continued on down the sewer tunnel on the other side, disappearing into the darkness. It left behind a few pieces and metal parts spinning in its wake and a large pile of broken bricks littered the tunnel.

Michelangelo and Raphael peeked in. "Dude, what happened to the wall?" the younger asked.

"April's present got away from me," he said, dropping his screwdriver, then dropping to his knees.

"Just like April," Raphael said. Before Donatello could slam the door shut, they left. He kicked the lock that had fallen off and reattached it. Then he entered the data for the bicycle on his computer. According to his calculations, if it stayed within the surrounding sewers, it would travel harmlessly around for a while and run out of gas. But that would take a couple of days. In the meantime, he had no more parts for another bike, which meant no present for April. Certainly nothing to beat Casey's tickets.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Tickets. If he couldn't make a better gift, why not give her an upgrade? Front row seats to the concert? He searched for the ticket vendor on his computer, but found they were sold out. Of course. The scalpers perhaps? They likely hung out in front of the stadium where the concert would be held. He quickly covered up the wall, welding a metal sheet in front of it. Then he grabbed his bo staff, a dirty, old trench coat and fedora, and left the lair.

"Three hundred dollars?!" Donatello shouted. Thankfully, no one was around or all eyes would be on him. He and the scalper stood behind one of the stadium columns in the shadows. The scalper was fidgety, half the time watching out for any security.

"No, candy canes. Of course dollars! For the tenth row," he said.

"That's robbery!" Donatello said, his face nearly emerging from the coat. He pulled the collar up further and kept himself covered.

"No, it's a bargain. In fact, it's the best price you'll get," the scalper said. "No one else will give you even close to a good deal like I will."

Donatello sighed. Three hundred dollars. "Somebody else told me it would be cheaper."

The scalper shrugged. "Maybe they know me. Friend discounts and everything."

"Well, can we be friends?" he asked hopefully.

"Nope."

Three hundred dollars was too far out of his price range. "How much for the nosebleed section?"

"A hundred a piece."

That was more manageable, as he could sell some scrap to the junkyard. But Casey may have better tickets. "What about the front row?"

"Seven hundred."

"S-S-S." The price lodged in his throat. "Can you hold two of the nosebleed sections for me?"

"No can do. These things go fast." A man approached, holding out a wad of bills. The scalper counted out the money and handed the man five tickets. "Like I said: fast."

Donatello returned to the lair, passing the junkyard on the way. They had closed early for Christmas Eve tomorrow and would only be open for a few hours then. His mood soured, Donatello entered the lair and retreated to his laboratory, not talking to anyone on the way in.

What can I do? He was no closer to a gift and it was almost evening. He needed an idea. Why couldn't something give him a clue what to get April?

His gaze drifted to his computer and Metalhead's head on a shelf. Inspiration sprouted in his chest and he sat down at his computer. If he could program an A.I. entity whose personality evolved to sentient being levels, why couldn't he use that same program to determine April's mindset and find what was best? All I have to do is change a few lines of code and input her information, he thought, typing on the keyboard. Alright. April's characteristics. Let's see…High school…female…martial arts…friendly…fun to be around. The list went on and when he was satisfied, he let the program compile the data.

He sat back in his chair and patted himself on the back. This was perfect. Why didn't I think of this before? He hummed to himself, spinning around in his chair while the program finished. His laboratory was a bit of a mess from his work on the bicycle. Spare parts he didn't need and pieces that fell off the bicycle when it crashed through the wall were scattered around. He would clean it up later. At the moment, he wanted to see the results as soon as the program compiled.

Soon, the computer dinged and the program flashed Compilation Complete. Donatello clicked the screen and the first item that popped up was a list of fashion accessories, from necklaces to earrings, all out of his price range. However, he suspected none fit April anyway. Earrings with fairies? Really? Maybe the program started out broad and moved to specific interests further on.

He skipped the fashion list and moved to the next items, Tessens. One white one caught his attention, as it was painted with red and green Christmas trees. Too seasonal. Another had shurikens adorning it. Better, but her Tessen is still good.

The next suggestion was a bicycle. Nope. Afterwards, a one-year membership for a pizzeria. Did Mikey hijack this thing? A skateboard. He clenched his fists. And that was the last suggestion. The program was as clueless as he was on what to get April.

Defeated and worn out, Donatello switched back to the concert website and rested his chin in his hands. The SOLD OUT display for the tickets mocked him, taunted him. He pushed away from the computer and banged his head on the table with a thunk. His eyes strained to stay open, but he was exhausted and his adrenaline from searching faded. Sleep won out in the end and he drifted off for a few hours.

When Donatello woke, it was well into the evening. He smacked his lips and cracked his back. The lair was quiet. Leonardo was probably off training with Raphael, Michelangelo out skateboarding, and April…Off to the concert with Casey, I'm sure. He stood from his chair and moved to shut off his computer. But he froze.

Right beside his keyboard were two tickets. Two tickets to the Albino Snow concert and a note above, written in black marker: MERRY CHRISTMAS! ENJOY YOUR FREEBIE! Donatello stared at the note. He looked at the computer screen, still with the concert's website. Who else knew about this? Certainly anyone could see the site, but who knew specifically and for what purpose? Raphael and Michelangelo .The handwriting was a little sloppy and smudged like Michelangelo's, but the sharp letters and brevity indicated Raphael.

Maybe it was both of them? Either way, a huge grin overtook his face and he raised the tickets triumphantly. He jumped for joy when he read that the tickets were so close to the front. These must be better than Casey's! He rushed outside in excitement, almost crashing into Casey and April in the lair. He gave them their space, impatiently rocking on the balls of his feet and watching the television with Michelangelo.

On the show, the rabbit and turtle robots appeared to have made peace. "I will let you guard these people," the rabbit said. "But I will come running if you don't serve them well."

"I will," the turtle robot said, bowing. Michelangelo pumped his fist and walked to the kitchen, checking on some food in the oven. Meanwhile, Donatello moved close to April, backed off, then teetered somewhere in between, antsy to talk to her.

"Sorry, Red," Casey said, rubbing his neck. He was geared up for hockey and clacked his stick on the floor. "They called me in for practice and the tickets already went to someone else."

"It's okay," April said, a little down in the mouth. "Good luck with practice." He nodded and skated off into the sewer tunnels, avoiding the destruction of bricks. When she turned around, she nodded to Donatello. "Hey, what's up?" Then she noticed the tickets in his hand. "What's that?"

"Tickets to the Albino Snow concert," he said.

"Where did you get those?" Michelangelo asked from the kitchen. Only when he faced him did Donatello notice his brother coated in flour. The turtle chef pulled pepperoni-topped cookies out of the oven. "Pizza Christmas cookies are ready!" He offered some to Raphael, but he took one whiff, gagged, and turned them down.

"Oh, a couple of close friends," Donatello said, winking. He turned to April. "So, do you want to go?"

"Sure," she said, embracing him. His heart burst into fireworks and his feet left the ground. Her small arms squeezed his torso and he returned the hug, internally declaring that if this was his only gift for Christmas, it was more than enough. But the surprises continued when she pecked his cheek. His jaw dropped and he touched the spot, warmth bubbling through his body. A kiss, a hug, and spending the night with April? This day couldn't be any better. A pair of fingers snapped him out of his drooling stupor. "But how will you, you know?" She swept a hand at him.

"Not a problem." He grabbed his trench coat and fedora from the laboratory and returned, tucking the tail ends of his purple mask under the collar.

"Not the best disguise," Raphael said. "Anyone can see you're a giant turtle."

"Worked well earlier," he said.

April shrugged. "If you say so. Let's go."

Before they left, Donatello ran to the kitchen and pulled Michelangelo and Raphael in for a group hug. Raphael struggled against it, pushing on him, but Michelangelo hummed and helped Donatello hold their brother close. "Thank you both," Donatello said.

"You're welcome, bro," Michelangelo said as Donatello ended the hug. "For what?"

He nudged him. "You know." Then he looked at Raphael. "And you. 'The right answer.' " He chuckled and ran off. Michelangelo gave Raphael a puzzled look. The older brother shrugged and left to train with Leonardo.

Meanwhile, Donatello walked along the sewer with April, his hand drifting ever closer to hers. He touched her palm with his finger, but immediately stiffened and dropped his arm when she looked at him. A few moments of silence and she grabbed his hand, holding it tight. Despite the cold rushing through the damp sewers, he was completely warm and at ease. He squeezed her hand and she leaned into him. "Thanks, Donnie. This is the best gift."

This was exactly like his chart. The chart always works. "You're welcome." A million questions ran through his mind about her statement. Did she mean the concert? Or spending time with him? He decided to drop those for now and settled on, "Merry Christmas, April."

"Merry Christmas, Donnie."

Casey entered the empty ice rink and skated to the team bench. He dumped his gear on the bench and took off his gloves. He laced up his skates and noticed black ink on his fingertips. Rubbing the stains off on his jeans, he pulled his MP3 player out of his pocket and wedged his earbuds in. He selected an Albino Snow song and bobbed his head to the beat.

Suddenly, a roaring engine drowned out the song and a bicycle crashed through the ice in the center of the rink. In the hole below, water ran through the sewers and a maintenance ramp shuddered from the bicycle. The vehicle blazed through the ice, throwing up chunks into the air. Some sharper pieces embedded in the wall. "Looks like this practice got even better," Casey said. He pulled on his gloves, picked up his stick, and hopped onto the ice, skating for the goalie net.

"You must be Donnie's bike." He smacked his stick on the ice. "C'mon, you wannabe motorcycle! Bring it on!" As if responding to the challenge, the bicycle swiveled around and zoomed toward him. Casey turned his music up louder and adlibbed his own lyrics. "Go, Casey. Go, Casey. Go." The bicycle was almost on him. "Go, Casey. Go, Casey. Go." He wound up. "Go! Go! Go! Go!" Smirking, he swung at the wheels. "Ca-sey! Ca-sey Jones!"

A/N: So, what did everyone think of it? Did you enjoy it? Being the nerd I am for TMNT, I had to incorporate some easter eggs from the original movies and such. See if you can spot them. We hope we got the characters right and all.

Sword: Donatello is his favorite, but I like Mikey! He's so adorable!

Pen: You lot are idiots.

Sword: And you're Raph. Hajime!

Pen: Ow! Why you- En garde!

While they fight, please, let us know what you think of it. And to everyone, have a Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukkah, Happy Kwanza, and Happy Holidays!