"Mikey, what in the world are you doing?"

Michelangelo was sitting on the floor, staring intently at a bowl of fruit as he scribbled in a notebook. As Leonardo walked over to him, he replied, "I figure that maybe I can show off some of my art at NYCC. That might equal job, which might equal money, which might equal a whole lot of new possibilities for yours truly."

"Possibilities?" Leonardo asked as he crouched behind his brother to look at the picture he was drawing. "I'm assuming that means a bigger DVD collection and stereo system. Sorry to break the news to you, Mikey, but I don't think comic book artists are going to be too impressed with a turtle's sketch of a bowl of fruit."

"Hey," Michelangelo answered, sparing a glance to his brother. "If they knew I was really a turtle, they'd be really impressed." Leonardo smirked, knowing he couldn't argue with that. Returning to his illustration, Michelangelo added, "Besides, those guys are a lot more into fine art than people give them credit for. I mean, they even have Bachelor's degrees in the subject. …they're probably called Bachelor's because you spend so much time trying to earn it, that you never even manage to get a date while in college. The life of a true artist is just chock-full of loneliness, man."

"What's he babblin' about?" Leonardo looked up to see Raphael enter the main room, headed for the television. Leonardo responded that he wouldn't want to know, and got up to join Raphael, who was opening a DVD case. "What the-? Mikey, did you scratch up my Predator DVD?" Michelangelo stopped drawing at Raphael's accusation. "Aw crud, I knew I couldn't leave none 'a my stuff out here!"

"Easy, bro," Michelangelo pleaded, standing up as he saw Raphael angrily make towards him. "It slipped! Not my fault! You can't leave things on top of the TV, you know that!" Backing up against Donatello's worktable, Michelangelo grabbed the first thing he could and held it between himself and Raphael as he closed his eyes. The latter turtle stopped in his tracks.

"It's a trashcan lid," Raphael remarked, confused. "Why do we have a trashcan lid down here?" Michelangelo peered down at the metal object, bewildered as well.

"It's for Casey." Michelangelo and Raphael looked up as Donatello came into the room, having gone to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen. "Since he heard we were going to NYCC, he's determined to indulge the latent comic book geek within. Believe it or not, he wants me to make him a Captain America shield."

"Captain America?" Michelangelo asked. "Casey Jones wants to dress up as the clean-cut and nationalistic Captain America? He's more likely to use this lid to beat someone upside the head, rather than protect somebody." Sneaking a quick glimpse at Raphael, he added, "Like this."

Raphael gave Michelangelo a harsh look as his brother raised the trashcan lid over his head. "Do it 'n it'll be the last thing you ever do, peabrain." Thinking better of it, Michelangelo put the lid down. Turning to Donatello, Raphael tossed his DVD over to him. "Here," he said as Donatello caught it. "How about usin' that brain 'a yours to fix that instead 'a makin' toys for that bonehead?"

Walking back to his workstation, Donatello told Michelangelo, "He's not planning on dressing up as him, thankfully. I have to admit, the image of Casey in patriotic spandex is beyond jarring. He seems disappointed that he can't make it to the convention, so he somehow roped me into fashioning a piece of memorabilia for him. I think I might've been sleep-deprived at the time of my agreement."

"Hey," Michelangelo commented after gazing down at the trashcan lid, "don't the turtles in The Sewer Dwellers use this as a weapon in one of the scenes?" Knowing where this was going, Donatello rolled his eyes as he replied in the affirmative. Michelangelo looked back up, possessively holding the lid against himself. "Mine! Totally mine! If my costume's already picked for me, I can at least choose my own props! Heeeyy… maybe I can bring some smoke pellets and-"

"I'm pretty sure the convention officials won't permit actual smoke pellets, Mikey," Donatello remarked, prying the garbage cover away from his brother. "That's going just a little too overboard. Remember, for that one weekend, we're just a group of teenagers. Not ninjas."

"Pfft," Michelangelo scoffed as Raphael joined Leonardo in a video game challenge. "We're always ninjas. It's what we do." Donatello caught sight of the bowl of fruit and discarded notebook on the floor and asked about them. "Gonna take my artwork with me," Michelangelo proudly explained as he picked up the notebook and displayed it to Donatello. "Pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah," Donatello answered lightly. "It's awesome. Except… I didn't realize that they printed comics with abstract artwork these days." Michelangelo blinked at him as Donatello added with a smirk, "Great job, Picasso."

Looking to his brothers who were in the middle of a game of Soul Caliber, Michelangelo asked, "He's mocking me, ain't he?"

"A-yup," responded Leonardo and Raphael without looking up from their game.

"Okay," Michelangelo muttered, looking back at Donatello. "That's it, smart guy. Maxi and Kilik, round two."

"No way," Raphael answered, still focused on the television screen. "Leo and I just started, and the two 'a you hogged the TV all last week."

"No one's talking TV, Raphy-boy," Michelangelo said, putting the notebook down. "It's so on. C'mon, Techie, let's see what you've got."

"Still sore about yesterday?" Donatello asked gloatingly. Michelangelo fervently replied that there was nothing to be sore about; he had beaten Donatello fair and square. Seeing that this had no affect, Michelangelo surprised his brother with a sudden tackle, causing a scuffle on the floor. The pair stopped what they were doing when they heard someone entering the lair.

"Hey guys, what's up?" April inquired.

"Pfft," Michelangelo said again, getting up. "You just saved this bozo's shell, is what." Donatello laughed good-naturedly, earning him a light kick on the leg. Nevertheless, Michelangelo helped his brother to his feet as he asked April, "What's goin' on with you?"

"You'll never guess who came into the store today," she told the four turtles. Of course, this led the four of them to make inane, half-hearted speculations. After Michelangelo went through everyone from Clint Eastwood to Sarah Michelle Gellar without taking a breath, April figured that she should know better than to leave any of her statements so open-ended. "Robert Donnelly, Allison's friend."

Raphael paused the game when Robert's name came up. Turning around to look at April, he exclaimed, "What?! Why'd he go into the shop? He didn't know ya, did he?" April shook her head, telling Raphael to relax. Robert had only met April once, very briefly when they all first met Allison, and had no memory of her. Raphael calmed down considerably.

"He came in to browse around the shop," April told the turtles. "Ended up buying this really beautiful antique cameo pendant as a birthday gift."

Raphael tensed up once again. "Birthday gift? Did he say whose birthday?" April shook her head, and Raphael looked down, apparently worried.

"Uh-oh," Michelangelo noted, pointing at Raphael accusingly. "Looks like somebody's been a bad boyfriend! Don't tell me Allison's birthday's coming up and you forgot?"

"I didn't forget, motor mouth," Raphael growled angrily. "Her birthday's on Sunday. She'll be turnin' twenty-four while we're still goofin' off at that stupid convention."

"Convention?" April asked. Donatello replied that they were going to NYCC, to which she replied, "Well, that explains why Casey's been pining away at his old Marvel comics and muttering something about the Avengers assembling." With a laugh, she shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest as she added, "I swear, that man's just an overgrown kid."

"And that makes him different from Mikey, how?" Donatello asked.

"Just you wait, Tech-Head," Michelangelo proclaimed, using melodramatic gestures. "I believe in the power of threes, and so the next time we rumble, the Turtle Titan is going to whip your shell, in protection of Maxi's name and reputation. This, I vow!" With that, he stormed off into his room, leaving April to gape at Donatello, thoroughly confused.

With a sigh, Donatello murmured, "All this to defend the honor of a fictional nunchuck-wielding pirate. Oy vey."


"You gotta be kiddin' me!" Raphael cried out.

"Shh!" Leonardo scolded, holding open the duffel bag he was carrying. "No arguments, Raph. The convention won't allow real weapons inside; you knew that. Just put the sai in the bag, and Donnie will carry them around with him. Try not to act suspicious, okay?"

Grumbling, Raphael gingerly laid his sai inside the bag, besides Leonardo's swords. It was when Donatello offered him the alternative that he took a step back. "Oh no," he complained. "It's bad enough that we gotta trust you to handle all our weapons, but you're gonna give me a pair of plastic sai to carry around? That's ridiculous! And who decided you get to carry all the weapons?"

Donatello sighed and rolled his eyes, his outstretched hand still offering the toy weapons. "We've been through this, Raph. In The Sewer Dwellers, the character that's based on me almost always carries his bo and a bag filled with 'techno-junk,' as they called it. This'll make it seem more like a costume. Swords, sai, and nunchucks are considered to be a lot more dangerous than a bo staff, so we need to switch out your weapons for the sake of getting past security. Since no one suspects a giant stick to be used as a weapon, and it's too big to fit in the bag anyway, I'll still wear mine on my back."

"Bro," Michelangelo sarcastically brought up, "great monologue. Though you might wanna work on not making it sound like you've said it a million times."

"I wouldn't mind the indignity," Raphael snarled, snatching the toys out of Donatello's hand, "if only someone will tell me why nunchucks-for-brains here is still walkin' around with that stupid trashcan lid. You ain't gonna tell me April couldn't find no toy nunchucks."

"You're just jealous," Michelangelo commented, sticking his tongue out. Raphael was about to lunge for him, but Leonardo pulled him back. It was just as well, since Michelangelo squealed and held up the lid as the shield it was meant to be.

"I know the concept of teamwork is foreign to you, o brethren of mine," Leonardo mentioned as he let go of Raphael, "but let's be serious about this. Yes, it was great of Allison to invite us out. And yes, we're most likely going to have a shell of a lot of fun. But let's not forget that we can't afford to bring any unwanted attention to ourselves. We're just a group of brothers in really well-executed costumes."

That said, Leonardo motioned for Donatello to close the bag as he opened up the back of the van. Sure enough, there were people dressed in various anime costumes that made them look stranger than half of the things he encountered in the sewer. They'd have no trouble blending in.

The turtles hardly took a few steps towards the convention center when they were stopped by a girl dressed in a bright orange costume of sorts. "Oh my gosh!" She quickly turned to her friend as she grabbed Leonardo's arm, much to his discomfort. "Mel! Look! These guys are dressed up like the Sewer Dwellers! Take a picture!"

As Mel quickly rooted through her bag for her camera, Michelangelo slowly edged up behind Leonardo and asked, "Leo, why is there a female Naruto fangirling over you?" Confused, Leonardo asked what a female Naruto was and why didn't Michelangelo know what to do in this case. "Ain't my problem, bro. You're the one she's got the hots for. Must be the swords. Chicks dig that kinda stuff."

The four of them hardly had the time to offer a weak pose before the flash went off. That done, the girl turned around and marveled over them. "Wow. These costumes are amazing! How long did it take you to finish them?" Leonardo shifted uneasily as she ran her hands along the length of his arm, trying to figure out the mechanics of it.

"Your bo's wrong," Mel stated simply, stepping around to look at Donatello's weapon. Donatello gave her a vaguely bemused look as she went on, "In the movie, it was a black rod with silver designs. This just looks like a giant stick that you wrapped some purple fabric around. And in the movie, his bag was green, not navy blue."

"Ha," Donatello laughed, pulling at Leo to step away. "Yeah, well… we spent so long on our costumes that we didn't even realize that we needed props. It was kind of last-minute. Can't have it all, can you?" The girls agreed and were willing to let them go past. They were once again complimented on their costumes before deciding to make the dash into the convention center.

"Shucks," Michelangelo complained. "How come I don't get any fangirls?" Raphael muttered that it probably had something to do with the fact that he was carrying around a piece of a garbage can. "You're one to talk," Michelangelo shot back. "I don't see you getting any lady fans, either."

Raphael raised an eye ridge at his brother as they continued to walk towards their destination. With a smirk, he asked, "Oh yeah? Which one 'a us is the only one to have had his own personal 'lady fan' for the past six months?"

"That doesn't speak so much for your charisma," Donatello joked, "so much as it does for Allison's poor taste." Leonardo and Michelangelo joined him in laughter even as Raphael shoved him.

"Guys!"

The turtles turned around when they saw Allison coming towards them. "Bud!" Michelangelo cried out, running towards her and picking her up. Stunned, Allison could do little else but grip onto his shell as he swung her around. "How's your sinus infection? Did Raph's soup give you food poisoning? He said it didn't, but I don't believe him. And do something about his attitude; he's been grumpy lately. And hey, question: will you be my fangirl? I really want one."

Allison couldn't keep back a laugh as she was released. Counting down the answers on her fingers, she replied, "I'm feeling better, no, you never believe him, he's always grumpy, and I'm always your fangirl." Michelangelo blushed and continued to hug her, much to Raphael's chagrin.

They were surprised to hear a voice speaking to them. "So, this is the guy who's been stealing Allison away from me on Saturday nights." The turtles turned, suddenly stiffening when they recognized the man in the khakis and black t-shirt as Robert. He was eyeing Michelangelo curiously. "I was beginning to doubt you even existed."

"Huh?" Michelangelo asked. Realizing what he was saying, he corrected, "Oh, no, you got the wrong guy. I'm Mikey, the adorable, light-hearted brother. Raphael's the guy in the red. He's the home wrecker." Michelangelo uttered an "ow" in response to the backhanded slap Allison administered against his shoulder.

"Oh," Robert said, looking to Raphael. With a small smile, he explained, "Sorry. You have to admit, that's one heck of a family resemblance." Trying to bite back an insult, Raphael offered a smile that looked more like a grimace. Robert then held his hand out to him. "Nice to meet you, Raphael. I'm Robert Donnelly. Ally won't quit talking about you. Believe me, I tried to get her to stop."

"Dirty liar," Allison commented, holding her breath at the initial interaction.

"Right Rob," Raphael replied. "She's told me a lot about you, too." He thought about ignoring Robert's hand, but remembered that the girl who touched Leonardo didn't make any acknowledgment about him feeling weird. Still, that was a young girl, and this was a thirty-one year old man. Not wanting to be rude so early on in the game, he reached out for Robert's hand, completing the greeting. "It's good to meet ya, too."

"So, Raphael," Robert said, apparently trying to get names straight as he looked to Michelangelo, "and you're Mike." Turning to Leonardo and Donatello, he asked, "Let me guess, you're brothers, too. Or at least distant cousins."

"We're brothers, all right," Donatello answered with a smile. "For better or worse. I'm Donnie. This is Leo." Robert took turns shaking all of their hands, though it didn't escape anyone's notice that he was focused primarily on Raphael. This made the turtle shift uncomfortably as he wished Allison would do something about this sticky situation.

"Cute," Robert commented, looking at their "costumes." He laughed good-naturedly as he amended with, "Awesome, I mean. I know how some guys get about having their costumes called 'cute.' But it's a nice homage to the movie. I'm really impressed." He paused for a moment before awkwardly bringing up, "So, uh… are those animatronics masks, or do you know a killer make-up artist?"

"Rob!" Allison broke in, not wanting the boys to have to answer more difficult questions than they had to. "What are you doing here, anyway? I went on a quick bathroom break; who's manning the table?"

"Ha," Robert laughed dryly. "No one's coming there to see me. I'm just the guy who draws a couple of independent comics. It's you and your movie that the fans care about. Either way, we should both get back there before one of the NYCC officers yell at us or something."

Allison nodded in agreement, then looked to the turtles. She had wanted to have at least a few minutes alone with them to show them around, but they managed to arrive right at the end of her five-minute break. She wasn't due for another one in another couple of hours. "Right," she finally said. "If you guys need me, just go into the dealer's room and turn left. Rob and I are in the second aisle down, next to the giant inflatable tennis ball with eyes." When the brothers looked at her blankly, she shook her head. "Don't ask. Trust me, you're better off not knowing."

She was about to go off with Robert, when Raphael called to her. "Hey." Stopping, Allison turned to look at him. Seeming a little uncomfortable about the whole thing, he shrugged and held his arms out. "You just gonna let me out into the world without so much as a hug or nuthin'?"

Allison gaped at him, shocked that he would make such a request in front of his brothers. Not wanting Robert to later ask any questions about Raphael's views towards public displays of affection, she quietly walked over to him and embraced him. He held her firmly, but rubbed her back gently. Blocked from Robert's view, Raphael thinly muttered, "If he says I look like an animatronics one more time…."

The brothers snickered as Allison pushed Raphael away. She could tell that he was kidding by the smirk on his face, but that didn't stop her from whispering, "Behave." He gave her an innocent wave as she walked away and turned her back on him, following a confused Robert back to their table.

"For some reason," he told her after they were out of earshot, "I expected him to be a lot taller."