A/N: This started out as a one-shot. Then it got bigger. And out of control. What can I say? Things like that happen when Mikey gets involved.
For this to make sense, you need to first read (and review!) raphfreak's one-shot, I Heart Raphael.
In I Heart, Michelangelo pulled a prank of massive pink proportions on Raph and is now fleeing for his life. Why he thought my house was a refuge, I have no idea, *cough*I might've said he could hide out at my house when Katie told me what she had planned for that fic, but for goodnessakes don't tell Raph! *cough*, but here he is.
Usual disclaimer, I, sadly, own no turtles, ninja, mutated or otherwise. But thanks to the actual owners for the joy they've given to so many of us over the last 25 years. Happy anniversery, guys.
chapter 1 -Sanctuary-
~~~
Mary waved as the school bus pulled away.
Another day. I hope it's a good one for a change, she thought. Jessi's been out sick twice this week, and Arek just can't seem to do his work without rap sounds and an Elvis impersonation or two. It's a wonder he hasn't driven his teacher off the deep end yet.
She made her way inside. The dogs had been out and were fed, the coffee pot was turned off, and her tea was brewed to perfection. She sighed, adding a dab of sugar and milk before carrying the steaming cup up to her office and settling in her chair. She opened her current story, and started skimming over what she'd written.
Oops. Misspelled that. And… I could cut that sentence…A little more detail would really add emotion to that scene…
She ignored the thumping from the bedroom. Another muffled thud, and a scratching sound and she looked up, irritated.
Stupid cat. She's gotten herself closed in the closet again.
She got to her feet with a sigh. When she pulled the door of the closet open, she almost fell backward over the bed.
"Eeeep!" squealed the green man in the closet.
"Ahhhh!" shrieked the author, reaching for something solid to bash him with so she could make her escape.
"Please don't tell Raphie I'm here!"
It took Mary all of five more seconds to realize the… man… was actually a turtle, wearing an orange bandana and a frightened expression in his blue eyes.
"Mikey?"
"Hiya, Mikell," said Mike sheepishly.
"Is there a reason you're hanging out in my closet?" she demanded, grabbing the ninja's arm and drawing him out.
"I umm… well, it's real cozy in there," stuttered Michelangelo.
Mary laughed. "Mike, you're a goof. What's going on? Where are the others? It's ok, my family's gone for the day; you guys can come out of hiding."
"Umm they're not here. They… don't know I came," said Mike. His pale complexion was beginning to darken to a pinkish-green.
"They don't know where you are? What about your shell-cell? Can't Don track you?" asked Mary.
Mike went three shades paler. He yanked the phone out of his belt and stared at it as if it would bite him.
"Oh, no. I forgot about that. Quick, take this." he shoved it into the woman's hands as if it were a ticking bomb. "I've gotta find a better place to hide!" He darted out of the room and into Mary's office. She followed, watching in puzzlement as he tried to cram his shell under her desk. Mike pulled the chair in behind himself.
Mary knelt down, wincing slightly and holding onto the desk for support. She peered into the space at the cowering turtle.
"Mike. That's not a good hiding place," she told him, amused.
"Oh, man… Mikell, you've got to help me." He crawled out from under the desk reluctantly and stood fidgeting, his blue eyes darting around the room, searching for an escape.
"Do ya think I'd fit in the cabinet under the sink?" he asked.
"Hamato Michelangelo!" Mary took the trembling turtle by the arms and gave him a slight shake. Or at least she tried. It was like trying to shake a boulder.
Wow, she thought. These guys really are made of muscle.
"Mike. Relax. What is going on?"
"He's gonna find me." A whimper crept into the young turtle's voice. "He's gonna find me and he's gonna take me apart."
"Whoa. Mike, who's after you? Is it Shredder? Bishop? Stockman? Did someone create a new villain?"
"N… no." he stammered. He backed away until his shell pressed against the door to Ken's den. "It's worse."
"Worse than Bishop?" Mary's eyes widened. "Mike, if you're in serious danger, you know I'll do whatever I can to protect you. I know you guys don't like guns, but Ken has some rifles. I know how to use the .410 and the .22…"
"No!" Mike's eyes flashed and his hands went to the nunchucks tucked in his belt. "Don't you dare!"
"Ok, ok, geez, Mike. I thought you were scared. I'm just trying to help."
"I… I am." The fearful look was back. "He's gonna take my shell off an' use it for a soup bowl…"
"Michelangelo. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you," said Mary firmly. She hated seeing the blue-eyed turtle so upset. He was obviously scared.
"You can't stop him." His voice rose with panic. "He'll just go right through you. You've gotta hide me. Please, Mikell!"
"Ok, ok. Mike, geez." Mary fetched the key to Ken's den.
I've never read anything about him being bi-polar, but these mood swings are a little weird. I'd better just humor him for now, until I can figure out what's going on.
"You can hide out in here, ok? If someone comes up, that panel there leads to the attic. If you had to, you could hide in there. Will that do?"
"Are ya sure it's safe?" Mike swallowed hard.
"Sure, Mikey," said Mary gently. "See, there's even a Playstation. Do you like Dangerous Hunts?"
"What's that?" He perked up, looking over the gaming system and settling contentedly in the lounge chair.
"A game where you hunt animals."
"Hunting?" Mikey made a face.
"Sure. You choose your weapon and hunt wild animals. You've got to be careful, though, or they'll attack you…"
Mike was shaking his head. "Nah," he muttered.
Oh, I forgot what an animal lover Mike is, thought Mary, amused.
"Ok, well there's this racing game…"
"Ooooh! Road Rage Four! Cool! Can I play this?"
"Sure, Mike, whatever you want," said Mary. "You know how to set it up, right?"
"Yep." The orange-banded turtle slipped the disk into the machine and turned on the television. He grinned, waiting for the game to start.
Mary sighed. Silly turtle.
"Mike?"
"Yeah?"
"Now can you tell me why you were hiding in my closet?"
"Oh! I umm…" Michelangelo fidgeted.
"Mikey…"
"Ok, ok. I… might've… gotten under Raph's shell. Just a little." He muttered. "It was your friend Katie's fault. It was her idea!"
"Oh… Oh, Mikey." Realization dawned. "You mean… the paint?"
"Ummm…" he looked up reluctantly. "If I say yes, will you still let me stay?"
"You mean to tell me Raphael is looking for you?"
"Well…"
"And he's ticked off because you painted him pink?"
"It was washable paint… At least, I think it was."
"And he could come here, looking for you?"
"It's… possible?"
Mikey tried his best puppy eyes on the scowling author.
"But you said you'd protect me, right?"
"Michelangelo…"
"Please, Mikell? He'll calm down. It's just for a day or two, until all the pink wears off that one spot where his shell is kinda rough, 'cause you know, it got in the crevice and it wouldn't come out, so he's got a patch on his side. How was I supposed to know? Anyway, you don't want him to pound my shell in, right? Aren't I your favorite?"
"Mikey," the author sighed. "I don't have a favorite. I love all you guys. Even Raph."
"Don't know why," grumbled the turtle, squirming. "It's not like he's got a sense of humor or anything."
Mary laughed. "It was pretty funny," she admitted.
Mike gave her a sly grin. "Does that mean I can stay?"
"I suppose so," she answered with a sigh. "But you've got to stay out of sight. My family would never understand. They already think I'm nuts for writing fan-fiction. And you've got to stay out of trouble."
"I can do that."
"And, you've got to call and let Splinter at least know where you are."
"Aw, but…"
"Mike. I'm not having your wife come storming in here looking for you. Your brothers, either. You know how they are. If they thought I kidnapped you, I'd be toast."
"Aww, don't worry, Mikell. I'd protect you."
"Gee thanks, Mike."
I know I'm going to regret this, she thought. I just know it.
…
To be continued.