Alas, my love, you do me wrong,
To cast me off discourteously.
For I have loved you well and long,
Delighting in your company.

Green Sleeves was all my joy
Green Sleeves was my delight,
Green Sleeves was my heart of gold,
And who but my Lady Green Sleeves.

I awake with a jolt. I was just caught off-guard. Was I just humming "Green Sleeves" in my sleep? Did Dr. G. hear me? Quite possibly. I sigh harshly as the music fades away from unseen speakers. The lights in my cell are still dim; the two square screens brighten up the wall again. The same shadowed person appears on the left, the right screen is still blank.

"G-log 030413, Tau specimen, codename Kashikoi Kame, Session 2, Assessment Review 1, recoding… Good morning Kashikoi Kame. Did you enjoy your meal; did you have a good rest? Did you like the wake-up song I chose for you?" Even though their voice is morphed, I hear slight warmth and smile in the words.

I do not respond.

"You can probably tell by now that I am in no way disappointed at your performance yesterday. Your analysis and deduction, problem solving, reasoning, complex strategies… your sentience is crystal clear. I don't think you were challenged a bit. I truly believe that you are the one I've been searching for."

I raise my brows slightly and turn away from the screens. Who does this weirdo think they are? I'm so sick of this.

"I am so impressed that I wouldn't mind testing you again with one of my more complex labyrinths and see how smart you really are… but that would waste more time. Are you ready to speak with me now… or should we try this all over again?"

It sounds as if Dr. G. wouldn't mind either decision I make. But I've found I don't have any other choice. I don't want to give them the satisfaction… but I want to go home. I lick my lips. "Who are you, what do you want and how can I get home?" I stare directly at the shadowed face, my own expression grim.

They look at me a moment longer and they seem to nod at me. "One thing I pride myself on, Kame, is that I tell the truth. I will discard this theatrical charade and meet with you directly. But you must consent to answer a few questions before I can permit an audience."

I purse my lips and run my tongue over my teeth. I then clench my teeth in disgust… I need a toothbrush!

"Very well." I mumble.

"First question." They jump right in. "Can you tell me who this is?"

The blank screen to the right darkens and refocuses, showing an image of a dead man. They are naked and their bottom half is covered with a sheet. His skin is a pale gray and there are three bullet wounds in the upper torso.

"He said his name was Haruto." I look away.

"Do you know this man?"

"No."

"Do you know how he got there?"

I swallowed hard and a chill went down my shell. "You wouldn't believe me."

"I only ask for the truth." They say.

"He was…transported there."

"How?"

That's the question of questions isn't it? "You may find the truth hard to believe."

"Does it have something to do with this?"

I look at the screen to the right and the image of the scepter flashes into view. It's in pieces. My head feels heavy and I cover my face to hide my quivering chin.

"I see." The doctor says softly. "What does this object do?"

I turn away from the screens. "It doesn't do anything now. It doesn't matter what it used to do. It's not going to bring him back…"

"Bring who back?"

That's too tough of a question to answer right now. So I opt for the easier one. "That… object… is the remains of what used to be a 'magic' scepter. It was a royal Japanese family heirloom passed down countless generations. Its origin of energy is unknown and the interval on which it's active is inconclusive. My guess is a seven-point-five year cycle with a window of approximately sixty hours. I've only seen it work twice, only experienced it once. It won't work unless two people in two different points of time are holding it. And even then, the two individuals have to be of equal mass. It requires an extremely precise 'formula' for the event of time transfer to occur." I let my words fall out of my mouth so quickly and numbly.

"Equal mass displacement… So Haruto came here from a different time, from the past, taking someone's place here, from the present."

"Not just someone." I spit at them.

The doctor took a moment before speaking. "I have more questions… When my men neutralized you…"

"Captured me." I corrected them.

"You were wearing what seemed to be battle gear and weaponry… you know how to fight? Judging by the Bo you handled and the others we've monitored later, you are a ninja?

"You monitored others?" I gasp.

"Yes." They say. "Before we left we planted a small vid-strip at the front door. A few hours later, two armed mutant turtles and a human female came in looking for you. They didn't stay long… The woman left after retrieving a long piece of material."

My bandana.

Michelangelo, Raphael, and, I'm guessing, Amber. They must be going crazy with questions. They probably think we're dead. I shake my head, disgusted even more.

"We tagged them back to a bookstore in Brooklyn. We know who they are now. Everyone you're connected to." The screen shows candid photos of everyone: April, Casey, Arimi, Even an aerial view of Splinter in his rooftop garden. "We, of course, don't have images of you ninja turtles, but we know there are four of you."

There are three of us now, you bastard.

"Is there anything else you want to know? Because I want nothing to do with your cryptic operation, unless you're trying to threaten me with their lives."

"I do not intent to threaten anyone's life, not even yours. My intent is to save lives… with you assistance."

"Why am I here?" I ask exasperatingly.

"To help." They simply say. "Thank you for answering my questions. Now I will do the same for you…I do request that you not attempt an escape. No one will hurt you here. I ask that you show the same courtesy."

I look at the screen, readily confuse.

"Please, you are welcome to use the lavatory and partake of some breakfast. We will meet after you're refreshed."

The screens on the wall disappear, the lights go out and the door to my cell slides up into the ceiling.

I look out into the hall and another door is open across the way. I peek my head out; all clear. I stand up straight and stretch my limbs fully. I walk out, and into the room across the hall… it's a large bathroom. The walls and floors are gray cement: the toilet, shower stall and sink are formed out of the walls, one structure. I look around the ceiling and notice there is no silver surveillance strip in here. I visit each station in privacy ending at the sink. There is no mirror, but a sunken shelf with a toothbrush still in its new plastic package and a small tube of toothpaste. I overload the bristles with the blue paste and allow the suds to linger in my freshening mouth until it stings. I feel much better. The door I had come in closed and concealed itself in the wall when I had walked through it about twenty minutes ago. So now I'm standing in a box, wondering how to tell someone that I'm finished. I place the toothbrush back on the shelf and a new door, on the opposite side of the bathroom lifts up, showing a small hallway and a long staircase.

I walk out and see three articles of material hanging from hooks; a towel, drawstring sweatpants, and a… well, I'm not immediately sure what it is. The material is dark heather gray, just like the pants. It has two sleeves, a v-neck collar, a front part… but there is no back to the shirt. Along the edge of the sides is clear sticky tape on the inside.

…Okay…

I put the 'shirt' on like an apron and smooth the sticky tape to the contours of where my plastron meets the sides of my shell as well as behind my shoulders. It feels… different. I pull up the sweatpants, realizing the bottom also stick and conforms to the edge of my carapace. I wish I had a mirror. Who had the time and ingenuity to make these clothes for me?

I slowly make my way up the stairs and down a long hall. At the end of the hall there is an open doorway. Standing outside of the doorway are two men dressed in plain black jumpsuits. They are armed. I stop midstride and wonder if I should run back down the stairs to… what? The bathroom?

"Don't be shy now!" The stocky one calls out to me. The tall one just smiles.

"I was told I was going to meet the doctor." I call back.

"You are. But breakfast first." Stocky says.

"C'mon then! We can't chow until you do." The tall man complains in a thick British accent. As he swings the tip of his weapon to urge me forward, Stocky jabs him in the ribs.

"Nothing lethal here, Kame." Stocky says gruffly. "Not my preference, but we follow orders."

I shift my eyes between the two men and walk toward them. I settle my eyes on their fingers resting flat beside their triggers. I finally meet them at the threshold. Something tells me that these are the same men who ambushed Leo and me in the Lair… however many days ago. The men look me over with scrutiny, as one picking out produce at a farmer's market.

"Definitely not like the other ones. He's got a calmness to him the other's ain't got." The tall Brit says.

"We'll see if it's just playing possum." Stocky says…judgingly. He looks me from behind his shades and frowns. "We were told to give you our names so…the name's Carder. I'll be part of your escort as long as you're here with us." He says to me. Carder would seem like he's a hundred pounds overweight if you just saw his shadow. But he's actually built like a rock, neck as thick as a brick and arms like sewer pipes. He's got to be in his late forties, sunburned, and has a long, salt and pepper ponytail going down his back. He doesn't have an accent; I'm assuming he's American. He's three inches shorter than I, but his confidence could intimidate a mountain.

"And I'm Gleiv." He smiles. Gleiv is heads and shoulders taller than I… and he's all limbs. He's younger than Carder, maybe closer to my age. He has cropped, groomed, black locks mopped all over his head. His face is thin, with a bushy goatee, thick brows and copper-colored eyes resting on high cheek bones… He does not look British. "Means a great deal to meet you peacefully after all this. Heard a lot about you." Gleiv says.

"Heard from who?" I ask.

"We weren't ordered to answer questions." Carder cut in. "Let's move. It's chow time. Gleiv, leave the way. I'll take the rear behind Kame."

If they think they know who I am, I wish they'd use my name, or at least give me a chance to offer it. I follow Gleiv out of the large vestibule down one of three visible hallways.

"Escorting Kame to mess hall. ETA, four minutes, Sir." Carder reports into his shouldered radio.

"Are Dr G. and Sir the same person?" I ask after about thirty seconds. I guess I don't except a response. I tend to ask questions aloud to myself… and answer them as well. It's how I always process things. Another thing I'm questioning is why, if this building is so big, are there no elevators? We turn a corner and walk straight into a dead end… Gleiv lifts his palm up to the wall and says, "Turnip Tuesday." And the door lifts up and we walk in. It's much dimmer in this stair well. We walk down grated steps and land on a cement floor. We come into a large, wide area. There are glass-walled holding cells, about twelve of them, on either side of us. In most of the cells are, what seem to be, regular, if widely arrayed, animals. To my left I see an iguana and a wolf; to my right I see a porcupine and a bat. And in the last cell I see an alligator. Its cell has claw marks over the walls and impenetrable glass, the door of the cell is bent and there are tattered pieces of cloth beneath the sleeping reptile. Something's gnawing at the back of my head but I'm afraid to come to any conclusions.

Why would the doctor allow me to see this?

We walk up another pair of stairs, turn a few corners and go through more secured doors. Gleiv holds out his palm says "Wallaby Wednesday, Thurgood Thursday and Foxtrot Friday" to open each new locked entryway. It seems to be more and more impossible to see any way of escape. We climb up a wide, white stair case and turn a room with plain metal tables and chairs. Carder and Gleiv rush past me and grab plates, bowls and utensils and help themselves at a small steaming bar. The smell of sugary syrup and fatty pork fills my nostrils and my stomach cramps up.

"You'd better catch up, Gov." Gleiv yells at me from over his shoulder. "Carder don't eat the carbs, so if you want Pancakes AND bacon you'd best not be shy." I watch as the Brit fills his bowl with buttery grits and his plate with scrambled eggs, pancakes, and sausage. I wait until the men take their meal and sit at the table closest to the bar before I grab my own plate. Everything looks homemade and piping hot. I take two pancakes, the last piece of bacon and… oh, no eggs. I cut my eye over at Carder who helped himself to a whole bowl of eggs. I decide to be grateful for at least this much and I walk past the men to a table in the corner of the room. They go back into their plates once I sit down.

As I finish the last of my small stack an elderly, jolly-looking woman comes in from the, I assume, kitchen, carrying a tray to the bar. "Last call on eggs!" She chirps.

"I'll take some!" I say, not thinking.

The woman turns her head in my direction, peering though her thick spectacles to get clear look at me. Her eyes grow wide and her thin line of a mouth drops open. I wonder if she's going to scream, run, or just keel over. Instead she balances the tray on the edge of the bar, and places a hand over one round hip. "Then you'd better get yourself over here and put some on your plate. This isn't a diner and I'm too old to be anyone's flirtatious waitress, m'dear."

I blink and immediately stand. I walk over with my barren plate. I come beside her and remove the empty tray in the bar and she replaces it with a fluffy batch of eggs. She takes the empty tray from my hands and I heap a large scoop of eggs onto my plate. "Thanks ma'am. These look great."

I can't believe I'm talking to a little old lady.

She grins and stretches her neck back to look me in the eye. "Sure, sure." She says in a light Irish accent. "But call me Devin. And you'd be?"

"My name's Donatello." I say.

"Donatello. What a clever name, although a bit of a mouthful." She chides.

"Donnie is fine."

She nods and turns toward the kitchen. "Then Donnie it is. Try not to be late for lunch m'dear." She chuckles a bit and disappears through the swinging doors.

I take another pancake and sit back down to finish my meal. I look around and notice that the most important thing is missing from this breakfast. "I wonder if there's coffee…" I say aloud to myself.

"No coffee. Only good ol' tea and juice for now. Machine is broken. Should be fixed soon." Gleiv says through mouthfuls of sausage.

Ugh! Well isn't that serendipitous… If it's not broken at home, it's broken here at Scotland Yard… or wherever I am. I'm so craving coffee right now; I'm apt to tell them I'll fix it in five minutes flat. But Carder and Gleiv get up and toss their trash and walk over to me. I gobble the last of my eggs and swallow hard. I guess it's time to finally meet the boss.

A/N: Wonder who the boss could be? Please leave comments… Also the song at the beginning of the chapter is Green Sleeves (poss. Henry VIII of England, 1500's.)