Why, hello! Thanks for tuning in to read my very shoddy first attempt to write something for the Valentine's spirit. You should only have to suffer through five chapters, so no worries.
Disclaimer: Like I'd be allowed to do this if I did own them?
Donatello was growing decidedly tired of the sight of television remotes.
It seemed as though no matter what he intended to do or when he intended to do it, the shattered plastic remnants of one of the many in their possession could be found waiting in the wings of his work tables. And with remotes being one of the few appliances they used on a frequent basis, he couldn't very well ignore them there. Which left only the option of repairing them as quickly as possible and hoping that he could find the time to work on the dozens of other projects demanding his attention.
Picking up one of the remaining pieces of the day's most recent specimen of violence towards inanimate objects, he dropped his head balefully. It bore the classic symptoms of an encounter with a hyper Michelangelo combined with an irate Raphael. Scooping the entirety of the mess with a sigh, he plopped back into his chair, secured his goggles and felt around under various levels of detritus for the appropriate tool kit.
"Well," he muttered, using a spare pair of tweezers to hold up one of the smallest pieces, "At least they didn't decide to use it as a target for shuriken practice. I don't think even I could have brought you back from that again," the genius added on casually.
He pulled his arm free of its techno-prison with a frown, spinning around in his chair to eye the room in general before diving into a box of cast-off parts with refreshed vigor. The tools he kept placed to the side for repairs requiring more precise work weren't in their usual place. Which was strange, because he was sure he could remember having put them away the night before last. Donnie stood, carefully placing the tweezers in his belt and pushing his goggles up onto his forehead as he began digging around on various other surfaces. A half-fixed coffee pot was casually pushed to the side in his efforts to raid a shelf and he cast it an apologetic glance.
"It seems you're going to have to wait your turn," he informed it bluntly, pausing in his search long enough to set it on a table next to the charred corpse of what had once been a working toaster. The purple-clad turtle resisted the strong urge to drop-kick the breakfast appliance through his lab door and into Leonardo's unsuspecting face. Exactly how his older brother had managed to catch a toaster on fire, he had no idea.
Leo could make any number of meals with minimal difficulty, but stick him in a room with the toaster and you were just asking for it. Donnie brought himself back down to earth by reminding his imagination that his brother would probably slice the toaster in half before it could actually hit him. So much for that. The toaster received one of his strongest glares. "I'm fixing the coffee pot first, so don't even try to get me with sympathy. We both know you'll just end up in here again within a week."
And yet, he knew he would wind up repairing the toaster almost immediately after the coffee pot, and by then the remote would probably be broken again, and after that Raphael would probably drop off something that would no-doubt be impaled by his weapons of choice, not to mention anything on which Mikey could find buttons to press too often…He sighed in defeat. It wasn't as though his brothers didn't apologize for destroying harmless property, and it wasn't as though he didn't enjoy doing things for them. But maybe, once in a while, it would be nice to find a chance to work on the projects he'd started ages ago. The toaster sat in its place innocently all the while, mocking him.
"Toasters," he stated hatefully, "are the bastard appliance." There was a soft snickering as he turned away from the appliance in question, and the genius spun on his heel to face it again, blinking. Cautiously, he held it up with the tips of his fingers, as though expecting another explosion. He tilted his head to the side in observation.
"You really shouldn't talk down to the toaster like that, Don. If it senses your hatred, it'll just blow up again." The charred appliance hit the table with a loud crash as the purple-banded ninja jumped, bringing a hand to his plastron.
"Do I or do I not have a clearly defined rule about coming in without knocking, Mikey?" He asked irritably, facing his younger brother and raising an eye ridge. Mikey chuckled nervously, leaning around the large box in his hands to meet the gaze.
"I always thought of it as more of a guideline, y'know?" Blue eyes traveled around the lab, taking in the scene before him. "So, uh, what are you doing?" Donnie blinked, looking around before remembering his dilemma with a snap of his fingers. He turned his attention back to searching his shelves.
"Well, I don't know where- I can't seem to find my tool kit. Have you seen it around?"
"Tool kit? You mean the one you keep in the garage?"
"No, that's for vehicle maintenance."
"The one under your mega-computer station?"
"I use that for computer repairs, not the remote."
"The one under the couch?"
"Well, I could use that one, considering it's my spare, but I'd really rather use the one that I keep in here al- wait a second, how did you know I keep a spare under the couch?" Donatello asked, turning his gaze back to his brother. Mikey smiled in return, shrugging his shoulders.
"Everybody knows about it. As many times as we've lost the remote down there, bro, and you think we wouldn't?" The genius smiled warily, taking notice of the box in his brother's arms.
"Right. Of course. And that, I assume, is why you've decided to grace me with your presence?" He asked point-blank, nodding at the object that currently held his attention. The orange-clad brother grinned innocently, which was answer enough for the other turtle. "You realize that if there's been another microwave incident, I'll be forced to reconstruct the toaster as a robot sentry and order it to destroy you on sight."
"Sorry, Donnie, you'll have to live out your secret desire to be a super villain another day. The microwave's completely unharmed. This," Michelangelo said enthusiastically, setting the box on the ground with dramatic flair, "is the DVD player that I found in the junkyard on the way home from April's."
"And you want me to fix it." It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement, and Mikey took note of that with a little guilt. Donnie picked up the player and hefted it, giving it a quick look-over. "It doesn't look like it's in bad condition. Actually, this is a very good find for a junkyard discovery. Don't we already have a DVD player, though?"
"Well, yeah. But this one is better. The one we have is kinda…on its last legs."
"Ah, and how much damage did you do to that one to warrant needing to find a new one?" Mikey said nothing in response, glancing away purposefully. Donatello set the player next to the toaster, returning to the search for his tool kit. "I promise I'll get it taken care of as soon as I can, Mike. I don't know exactly when that's going to be; I've been a bit occupied lately, it seems like everything's deciding to fall apart all at once-"
"It's not a big deal, Don," the youngest insisted, holding his hands up in a conciliatory manner. "I'm pretty sure I can survive with pirated cable and the million games you already hooked me up with for a while." Donnie made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat, rummaging around and emerging from his shelves with a tool kit and a triumphant grin. Pulling his goggles back down, he settled in by the broken remote once more.
"Right. If you'll excuse me, Mikey, I've got a few things to take care of. Just, ah, leave the player on the table, and any parts that go with it, and I'll get around to it sometime soon." Mikey set the box on the ground under the table and headed back out the door. Before closing it, he paused and turned around.
"You're gonna take a break today, right?" He asked with a slight frown.
"Hm? Yes, of course I am," the older turtle answered absentmindedly, fiddling with one of the loose buttons. The door closed and he was left alone with his work.
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Donatello woke up the next morning with the tweezers stuck to the side of his face. Pulling them off distractedly and attempting to blink the sleep out of his eyes, he stumbled out the door and into the main living area of the lair. As he approached the couch, Michelangelo turned to him with a smile.
"Morning, Donnie!" He chirped happily. The smile fell a little when he took in the familiar tweezers imprint on his brother's cheek. "So I guess you were in the lab all night?"
After a few moments of tired silence, the question seemed to register and the genius turned to glance back at the door he'd left through. The sheepish expression creeping across his face informed Michelangelo of an assumption well made. His smile morphed into a full-on frown in the face of realization.
"I actually meant it when I said the DVD player wasn't a big deal, you know. I didn't mean for you to stay up all night working on it or anything." Slightly more awake, Donatello responded.
"I know what you said, Mike, and I know you meant it. Don't worry so much, bro." The younger brother's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he seemed to accept the answer and allowed Donnie to continue his trek into the kitchen. The purple-banded brother passed by the couch in time to observe his brother raise the remote and press play on a DVD menu.
Strange. He couldn't recall finishing the repairs on either.
Okay, that's the end of the first chapter of five. I know, I know: where's the Valentine's spirit? Well, hopefully it comes to fruition soon. Okay *straps on hard-hat*: how bad was it? Have I mutilated characterization as we know it? Let me have it straight, because this is one huge experiment for me.