The boys burst in with loud voices and three flat square boxes of pizza. As usual, it was not befitting ninja—garlic and onion and tomato sauce drifted around them and the noise was almost deafening to the rat who had been listening for a return of the curious figure.

He rapped the tip of his cane on the ground and the boys whipped towards him, startled. As one they bowed and set their boxes aside.

"Tell me, my sons, did anything happen today?" His whiskers twitched irritably.

They looked at each other. Raphael was the first to break—smacking Michelangelo in the shoulder. Donatello hissed at Raph and Leo looked back and frowned at them. Splinter took a breath—deep in his belly—and waited. Leonardo bowed again and glared at his brothers. Donatello kept frowning and seemed to flex his hands. Raphael rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth.

Michelangelo's belly rumbled as the scent of pizza filled the air.

Splinter simply waited.

Raphael ground out, "We were jumped—"

"We were fine," interrupted Donnie.

Splinter's ear twitched. After a moment, Leonardo broke his gaze and looked down. "We were in battle with a Foot soldier..." Leo sucked in a quick breath. "He was watching the pizza place."

"And?"

"And we defeated him," Raphael hissed. "And we checked with April and she's fine and Casey's fine. We got a straggler."

"Nothing else?" Splinter asked calmly, looking at Mikey.

Michelangelo had always been the beam of sunshine. He had an innocence and friendliness that the others lacked. It was a tremendous strength—allowing them to draw in allies—but also a terrible weakness. Even now Mikey looked at him with the attentive face of an adoring son. Splinter sighed and pointed to the crushed can on the floor. "Do you have anything to say?"

Mikey looked at the can and flushed. "Oh, sorry Master Splinter." He jumped up and picked up the can and tossed it into the bin in the corner.

Splinter sighed. Everyone's stomach was rumbling now. He waved an impatient hand and everyone opened their boxes.

Leo looked at him with a worried expression. "Is something wrong Master?"

Splinter frowned and looked at his sons. "Enjoy your meal Leonardo." After a pause, he snapped. "Michelangelo! After you have cleaned up, join me."

"Yes, Master Splinter," he said, his mouth full of his favorite food.

Splinter frowned and waited. It was ten minutes before Michelangelo appeared in the room that Splinter had claimed as his own.

At once he bowed and knelt down. "Master?"

"Do you think you do your chores well?"

"Oh...ahh...sorry Master," Mikey breathed out. "I won't forget again."

Splinter sighed. "Do you take the bags to the surface yourself?"

"Umm..." A pause. "Uhh...yes?"

"Hmmmm..." Splinter stroked his chin.

"I do...well...most of them, anyway," Mikey said, scratching the back of his head.

"And no one helps you?"

Mikey frowned and sighed. "Well, I do get a little help..."

"I see," Splinter said. "And who is the help?"

"Ummm..." Mikey fidgeted. "Well...she's..."

"She?"

"She's...in a fix and takes the recycling. The glass and cans..."

Splinter's eyes narrowed. "And you did not think this was a spy? A danger to us all?"

Mikey frowned and concentrated. As the youngest, he often seemed the most childish. "Umm...not really." He frowned uncertainly. "But she seemed so harmless."

Splinter did not look convinced. "The greatest fighter can be defeated by those who seem harmless. Like the tiny brown recluse who seems so small compared to the wasp."

Mikey's wide eyes were filled with tears. "Oh...like she's gonna come out and sting us to death or something?"

Splinter sighed heavily. "You are the youngest of my sons and sometimes are the most innocent. I'd advise caution..."

"Oh."

Splinter sighed as Mikey fidgeted. "What do you know of this girl?"

"Ummm...," Mikey thought hard. "She is homeless and lives like three tunnels over in a dead end gulley?"

"How did you meet her?" Splinter stroked his chin. "Where does she come from?" At Mikey's blank look he began pacing. A tear trickled down Mikey's cheek and Splinter felt a momentary regret for questioning his son so harshly. "What is her name?"

"Uhhh...let me ask?"

"You do not know?!"

"She was wandering in the tunnels and picking up glass and cans and asked if I was going to take all the cans up..." Mikey scratched his head absently. "And so I kind of...gave...them...to...her..." Mikey's head scrunched between his raised shoulders. "I guess...I screwed up...?"

Splinter thought for a moment. "Perhaps if you take the time to get to know her...?"

"OK, Master Splinter!" Mikey sent him an angelic smile. "Does this mean that I'm not in the doghouse?"

"20 back flips! Now!"

The next week Mikey was hauling out several bags of cans and glass. Donatello had even contributed some scraps of metal to make the bags heavier. The meeting place was deserted. Master Splinter had sent only Leonardo to watch from a distance to ensure that there was no trouble.

Mikey looked around again, waiting. He whistled softly. She had to be here—he sucked in his breath. He wasn't crazy—this was where she was supposed to meet him.

Unexpectedly, the clumsily wrapped figure came from another tunnel. Leonardo ducked further into the shadows as the figure walked past, arms wrapped tightly around her chest. Mikey smiled and waved as the hooded figure waved back.

"I brought you some stuff..." Mikey called.

"Th-th-thank you," she stuttered hoarsely. Unexpectedly a heavily wrapped hand came out with a few grimy bills.

"What's that?" Mikey asked, all smiling innocence.

"It's from last time," she whispered.

"Aww...I don't need that," he blushed.

"But it is your share," she insisted.

Mikey reached out gingerly. "But...can you like..."

"Like what?" she asked, taking the bags and slinging them over her shoulder.

"So...what's your name?"

She paused and her hooded head tilted. "I don't have one." She shook for a moment. "It's better that way."

"Why?" Mikey asked, disappointment ringing in his voice.

"It just is." She paused, the bags dropping a bit. "Look...don't...borrow trouble from me. It's just better."

"But why? Maybe we can help?"

"We?" she suddenly panicked, almost dropping the bags. "Who are you?" She glanced around fearfully, obviously about to bolt.

Leonardo sighed and stepped out behind her. "Look...we just want to know a few things..."

Suddenly the girl dropped the bags and took off down a tunnel. Mikey frowned and followed as Leonardo took off after her. She didn't get far—she was slow and clumsy and her heavy clothes were so loose that they tripped her. Mikey and Leonardo flanked her, looking at the huddling figure.

The trickling water echoed as little hiccups came out. Mikey shot Leonardo a look. Creeping closer, Mikey reached out to the form. She shuddered violently, a wordless cry echoing out and Mikey jumped back.

Leonardo frowned and whispered, "Look..we don't want trouble. We just want to know who we are dealing with."

"I won't bother you any more...," she sobbed. "I promise... I won't." She shuddered again. "Just take the money and stuff and leave me alone." She flung out the few bills towards Leonardo. Her head was on the ground and she was huddled into a tiny ball. "Please...don't hurt me..."

"We won't hurt you," Leonardo sighed, sheathing his katana. "Just talk to us..."

"Yeah," Mikey agreed with a smile. "Just sit up...just a little." She huddled into her little ball, her head bowed and eyes still down, but she knelt up a little. "That's it... See? No one gets hurt."

Leo rolled his eyes. "So what's your name?"

She shuddered, not even looking at the turtle. Finally she whispered, "Whatever you want it to be..."

"Ooo! Ooo! Can we call you... Let me see... Uhh..." Mikey smiled. "I always do the best names so we'll find you the best name ever!"

"Mikey!" Leo hissed. "You can't just name her like a stray dog." He pointed angrily. "She already has a name."

"What about...Lily? Like the flower," Mikey said excitedly. "Or...maybe May?"

"May?" Leo hissed.

"Well, we already have an April," Mikey reasoned.

Leo frowned. In all the time, she hadn't even moved. She hadn't even unwound her hands to catch the crumpled bills around her. He sighed angrily. "Let's just take her back to the Lair. Maybe we can talk to her there..."

"Yeah!" Mikey cheered. "It'll be great. You and Karai are like an item. Donnie and April. Maybe May and I will get to go steady!"

"Don't count on it," Leonardo grunted. He put out a hand to her shoulder and almost flinched as the huddled girl jerked suddenly. He waited until she stopped shuddering and gently pulled on her. "Come with us." He sniffed the air. "At least come and get cleaned up."

Mikey kept chattering, talking about his favorite pizza restaurant and the special pizzas for every day of the week. The form said nothing, only wrapped her arms around her tighter and followed glumly. Leonardo swept up the money—a five and a few ones—and followed, deliberately not masking his steps.

Mikey led them around and around—the usual distracting and confusing way around the tunnels whenever they lead someone new to the Lair. Donatello undoubtedly had them on at least a few cameras, recording Mikey's uninterrupted chatter and the silent figure following. It irritated him that she never moved—never even tried to get away. It seemed—unnatural.

"So here we are!" Mikey said, gesturing widely. "Mi casa! Come and meet the clan!"

Leonardo cleared his throat as Raph and Donnie came out. Again there was the unnatural stillness and quiet. She didn't even look up as Mikey made introductions.

"And who might you be?" Splinter asked softly.

The heavily hooded form shuddered a little. "No one."

Splinter looked at his sons with a stern face. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Raph smirked. "Please have a name. Otherwise Knucklehead here will name you something."

She shrugged. "Whatever you wish."

Splinter's eyes widened a bit but otherwise he only plucked at his long whiskers. Everyone looked at Splinter in confusion. Splinter walked carefully around her, his ears flicking and his nose twitching. "I think that perhaps if you cleaned up you would feel better..."

Her voice cracked into a high pitch as she whimpered. "I...do I have to?"

Splinter sighed heavily. "Yes."

"Oh," was all she said.

"Donatello, if you would please start the boiler. Leonardo, if you would find a towel. Raphael, the screen from my room." Splinter gestured and each of his sons went into a different direction.

Quite quickly there was a huge trash can in a corner with hot water and one of the three towels next to it. Raphael and Leonardo moved the heavy screen in front of it. Mikey simply sat and looked at her with mooning eyes.

"You'll feel a whole bunch better once you get cleaned up May!" he enthused.

Splinter watched her carefully. She didn't move, just wrapped her arms tighter around herself. Mikey kept talking to her about everything and nothing. She seemed to ever so slightly bend towards him, glancing up occasionally for split second looks before staring again at the floor.

"It's all set up, Master," Leonardo said.

Splinter's flickering ears caught the sudden intake of breath. She suddenly stood straighter and stiffer. He motioned to Leo who backed away with a bow.

"This way," Splinter said in a soothing rasp, listening to her careful steps as she followed him. She followed dutifully and stopped at the screen. "If you will leave your clothes here, Michelangelo will wash them for you." He thought he heard a soft whimper or sigh, but she only shuddered again.

He turned aside, expecting to see her duck behind the screen, but instead, her muffled hands were reaching silently to undo the oversized pants. Every turtle had sucked in their breath to see what would happen, staring silently with mouths open.

"Behind the screen," he grunted. She whispered her thanks and crept past him. It irritated him that she carefully kept as far away from him as possible, even sucking in her stomach to make herself as slim as she could.

Master Splinter glared at his sons, who wore varying expressions of frowns of disappointment. They were truly teenage boys. He gestured and they dispersed to different corners of the room. Suddenly, they all found something interesting to do. Leo sat down and began oiling the heavy leather straps that held his sheathed weapons to his back. Raph began to pick up cushions off the floor and kick the video game controllers back underneath the worn television. Donatello began fiddling with a controller to something.

He heard the shoes fall—one, then two. Leo shot a look to Raph who picked up a comic book and began studying it. Silence fell in the lair. Then a zipper crackled and Mikey grinned and Donnie smirked at him. Another sigh of fabric and then he said firmly, "Push your clothing out so that it can be cleaned."

"Oh!" She whimpered a little from behind the screen. With a slow reluctance, a slim foot pushed the mound of clothes out from behind the screen.

Splinter picked them up. A brief whiff of a faint trace of something wafted up to tickle his nose. Something that he couldn't readily place, but that unsettled him in its familiarity. He grunted at the turtles and flung the clothes to Mikey. "Get them cleaned up," he ordered.

"Right oh!" Mikey said, grinning wildly. Suddenly all four brothers were interested in working the ancient contraption that heated water and then scrubbing the clothes. Raph growled over a scarf and Leo took the pants.

Splinter shook his head and frowned. They were being boys—young teens. Had they been human, they could have dated and had some other outlet. Other experiences would have better prepared them for contact with a female. As it was, they were overwhelmed with their own impulses and half-formed ideas.

Frowning, he plucked at his whiskers. The entire thing was unsettling, and the sooner she was dressed again the better. Then his sons would calm down and they could all figure out what was going on. Neighbors were a bad idea for any ninja. Neighbors causing disharmony and competition were even worse.

Perhaps April would have an idea he could use. He patted his pockets, but his communicator was in the other room. Of course—this wouldn't be easy. He growled at the boys, gesturing for them all to back away and let Mikey—who was covered in water and suds—do the chore.

"My sons," Splinter ordered. "To the dojo for practice."

"Yes, Master Splinter," they all sighed in disappointment.

"But maybe I should stay behind and give her the clothes?" Mikey asked.

"Go!" he snapped.

All four boys trudged past him into the other room, glancing at the screen without subtlety.

Splinter picked up the clothes—a motley assortment of loose, worn clothes in a variety of mis-matched sizes. There really wasn't an area to hang them up, but they would dry swiftly enough if put over the warmer pipes overhead.

The water sloshed uncertainly. He felt his ears grow hot. Then his tail curled as he heard the soft whisper, "Do you want me to come out now?"

"What?!" he gasped.

"Do you want me to come out now?" her voice was a little louder. "Or to wait for the others?"

"No!" he ordered, ignoring the snickering from behind the cracked dojo door. "Your clothes are wet. Stay there."

There was no reply, only the splashing of water and the snickering from the cracked door. Master Splinter rolled his eyes—this would require strict discipline. He went to the dojo door—careful to keep his back to the screen—and rapped out orders for drills and exercises for his sons. Dutifully, his sons began to flip and punch and kick. Slipping inside, he closed the door firmly behind him.

It was no surprise to him that when he went back out ten minutes later, the girl was gone, leaving only wet footprints to the door.