Late one fall night Donatello and April found themselves on a walk through Central Park. It had been April's idea. After working for hours together trying to purge some bugs in Don's new security network for the Lair, she suggested they take a break and get out for some fresh air.
The dried boughs of the trees rustled around them, and leaf litter crackled under their feet as they silently made their way through the twisting paths of the park.
Don hunched his shoulders, barely suppressing a shiver beneath his thin jacket as a chilled breeze tickled the exposed skin around his neck and face.
April caught the movement from the corner of her eye and studied him curiously. "Is something wrong?"
Feeling his nerves skip at the sound of her voice interrupting the calm, Don regarded April timidly and gave his head a quick, stiff shake to dismiss her concern. The way her green eyes locked with his made his stomach curl. It was an inexplicable—and increasingly frequent—physical phenomenon that he still didn't quite understand.
Though she arched her eyebrows skeptically, April shrugged off her questions and continued admiring the effect of the moonlight shifting through the trees.
Soon another wind whipped up—colder than the last as it whistled down the walkway with a low howl. Don winced against the bitter onslaught, body wracked with a pronounced shudder.
"Donny," April sternly coaxed, pinning him with a calculating look, "It's not that cold. Are you getting sick, maybe? Because we can head back now if you—"
"No, it's fine," Donny cut in gently, shoving his chapped hands in his pockets as they began to sting. "I'm not sick; it's simply our nature. Turtles are cold-blooded, and though my brothers and I share many genetic similarities with humans, some aspects of our dual physiology are merged." He decided to embellish with an example when her expression still appeared uncertain. "For instance, we can tolerate colder temperatures more efficiently than ordinary turtles, but compared with humans, we are a bit more… sensitive to environmental extremes, if you will." Afraid he had rambled, he clammed up and looked down as he walked, measuring the length of his steps by using the cracks in the sidewalk as a scale of reference.
Another gust streaked by them and Donatello shivered again, effectively proving his point. He curled in on himself and absently lengthened his stride in a bid to warm up. April was nearly jogging to keep pace.
"Easy, strider," she cautioned, voice hinting at good-natured laughter as she fell into step with him once more. "You should have said something! Here." She companionably slipped her arm through his and pressed close, sharing her body heat. "Better?"
At first Donny nearly tripped in surprise. Quickly mastering his unsteady legs, he held his body rigid at the physical contact and managed to mumble his thanks.
She offered a helpful smile. "I never realized you guys had a problem like that. And here I was getting on Mikey's case for being ignorant about humans."
Don could only jerk a nod in response. His vocal chords were presently inoperable, and for some reason he felt numb—but not from the cold. Quite the contrary, actually: he was flooded with excessive warmth now. To a fault it seemed. His face felt like it was burning.
Too soon he found himself working up a sweat, and he vaguely wondered if April would be uncomfortably warm now, considering how he was sweltering at her touch.
The ensuing minutes passed in blurred tunnel vision for Donatello, and before he knew it they were standing before Bethesda Fountain. The bronze angel gracing the center of the pool gazed down at them softly, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat when he saw a young couple sitting on the far edge of the fountain across from them. The man whispered something in the woman's ear and she smiled, oblivious to the new arrivals.
It was fortunate that the couple was occupied. Donatello wasn't too keen on attracting any unwanted attention. Even so, he eyed them warily, ready to bolt the moment he heard a scream of terror.
"Here, Don. Make a wish!"
April snapped him out of his reverie as she shoved her upturned palm at his face, offering him a penny. Don flinched back before he realized what it was. Relaxing, he scrutinized the coin; then his eyes flicked to April's in confusion. "I appreciate the… gesture, April, but I don't need your money." He was even more surprised when she laughed at his proud rejection.
"No, no, no…" She was beginning to wonder if he and his brothers had ever heard of wishing wells before. It was a pretty odd tradition the more she thought about it. "You're not buying anything with it, you goof. You throw it in the fountain and make a wish. Then it might come true."
Donny pinned April with a startled look that suggested she had taken leave of her senses. Years of scraping by in the sewers and making do with what little they could find had taught him the hard lesson of poverty. He and his brothers naturally adhered to a frugal lifestyle as a result, wasting nothing, wanting little. Impulsively throwing away material assets in order to cater to such a childish whimsy seemed so… impractical.
"Why would I do that?" he protested.
"Because it's fun."
"I really don't see—"
"Humor me." She pressed the penny to him insistently.
Don deliberated a moment. Finally, he relented with an internal cringe over the needless waste. Reluctantly accepting the penny in cupped hands, he looked indecisively to April for further instruction.
"First, make a wish."
Don resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes at the absurd notion, but begrudgingly complied. Gazing steadily at the fountain, he pondered what he could possibly wish for. His eyes wandered thoughtfully beyond the statue and came to rest on the couple still sitting by the edge of the fountain: their hands clasped, fingers devotedly intertwined. Involuntarily, his gaze returned to April and softened when it found those penetrating green eyes.
Offering an encouraging smile, she patiently mimicked tossing the penny into the pool, and he obediently copied her motion. As it was released, the small coin arched through the air and plunged into the water, descending to the bottom to rest amid a collection of weathered tokens. All of them sunken hopes waiting for fulfillment.
Don stared a moment longer, mesmerized, until he felt April nudge him.
"So what did you wish for?"
"Hm? What… Oh! I, uh—" he stammered nervously as his mind raced.
April smirked, waving her hand indifferently to calm him. "I'm just kidding, Don. That's the trick to wishes: you don't tell anybody. Otherwise it won't come true." She winked, gently pulling on his arm to lead him back the way they had come.
"Oh." Relief washed over him like a cold wave, and he meekly followed. "Of course."
He didn't bother to mention how his wish could never come true, regardless of what he did. After all, it was only a penny…
A/N: Yes, I openly admit that I've always been a closet fan of poor Donny's crush on April. :3 Sue me! (That was a joke. Don't actually sue me...)