So, let me take this opportunity to say how horrifically sorry I am this took so long. I have a plethora of excuses, some of which are actually quite good, but I'll leave the excuses business to this chapter.
I have absolutely loved every single one of the reviews I got (seeing as how you were all so nice about it ^_^) and throw myself on your mercy for making you wait - if indeed you were waiting..
SHOUT OUTS:
Rachel McN: Thank you for your approval of the OC! I totally know what you mean. It's hard to find OC's I like, and I really like Her. She doesn't irritate me and she hasn't been attacked and rescued ^_^
Btch: Sandwiches are a seriously underused literary tool that I was all-too-pleased to incorporate into this little story : ) I'm glad you like it.
Latina shewolf: I hope to keep up a relative level of not-sucking ; )
The Silent Hunter: Understanding one's own mental limits is something Mikey needs to work on ^_^ ... and how we LOVE him for it! And I really wanted her to be cheerfully undignified, hope I succeeded.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own TMNT, Gretchen, the Discworld, Warhammer 40K, Star Wars, Buffy, or any fanfictions I have never read but may have inadvertently referenced. L-space is not mine. I also do NOT own a large chocolate eclair, but hope to rectify this state of affairs very soon. I do own Maureen and Jessica and, of course, Geneva.
Chapter 3 - In Which Excuses Fail and Leo Waves a Ham Sandwich
"This is a tremendously stupid idea."
It was a Declaration, the type were you have to pronounce the capital 'D', and one of those in which her cousin so frequently indulged, but something about this one seemed odd. April stood back and considered her response options.
"Doesn't tremendous mean…"
Her cousin quickly dismissed this option.
"The word Tremendous has adopted the positive connotation but actually means 'enormous' and/or something inspiring awe and nervousness or anticipation. Original connotation closer to the negative…"
April rolled her eyes.
"And you say I'm a geek."
"Your mom says…shut up..."
April decided not to respond to that one, and began to look for the tape dispenser. Damn thing was trying to run away again, reminding her of at least more three reasons not to leave inanimate objects next to a statue that exists on four separate inter-dimensional levels. Also books. Books did that a lot. The more she collected the more seemed to simply appear, or squeeze themselves into smaller and smaller spaces, or taking up more room than they should. Her uncle had often mentioned this phenomenon, something about L-Space, but it sounded a bit sketchy.
"I mean, they're a family,"
And, apparently, her cousin wasn't going to stop discussing the issue. April sighed and picked her way towards another box of books and movies, determined to be relatively silent until Geneva was finished protesting.
"It's not a real apartment. It's more like a homestay, and what if my showing up makes it all awkward? Pass me the giraffe."
"The what?"
Her cousin sighed and pointed to the corner of the small space. "The giant, hand carved, wooden giraffe right there."
"That thing is…ugly."
"Hey! I've had him since I was eight years old. Show some respect for poor George."
April kept her opinions of enormous statues to herself and looked around for something else to pack. The storage unit was looking a great deal worse than usual, admittedly, and she tried to visualize it empty of her cousin's belongings. After a moment of intense concentration it appeared to have worked and April set about throwing things into boxes much more cheerfully. She would miss having her cousin about in the evenings, of course, but dealing with Casey day after day and the turtles at all in-between times was quite enough for anybody. Also, it was worth mentioning that her cousin wasn't exactly the last word in ladylike restraint. Yesterday, for example, Casey had drawn in a breath that must have reached the deepest corners of his massive chest and belched so the windows nearly rattled. Instead of being disgusted, vaguely offended, or even mildly irritated, Geneva had laughed and applauded.
"Encore! Encore! Can you do the alphabet?"
As many a wise man has remarked upon well-met events: It Was Time. In the cosmic sense. Geneva might have a doubt or two to the nth power (for a given value of two, give or take an nth) but the longer this discussion wound around itself the fewer worries April found worthy of comment. A couple of days ago this idea had been more of a vague, bizarre, inspired impulse, but as April and Geneva worked their way through packing and Casey rounded up a van April began to find fewer and fewer legitimate excuses against the arrangement. Her cousin was clearly less convinced.
"Besides, when you and I were arranging things with Donnie, you know, about rent and everything, I kept looking over at Leo…" Geneva grimaced and shoved another teddy bear next to a pile of brightly printed cloth. April nodded.
"The Intense Look. He does that."
"He looked like Wo Fat in 'The Last Samurai', but, you know, less charming."
It was a fairly accurate comparison and April didn't feel bad for laughing.
"But just as bald? Don't worry about him. Leo is pretty intense, but he's a good guy."
Geneva raised an eyebrow and started to dig through yet another box labeled 'misc.'
"I notice you didn't say 'cuddly' or 'adorable' or 'swee—Hey! Look, my Warhammer 40K poster!"
It didn't take much thought to realize that Geneva would benefit from relocation, April knew, and the primary supporting evidence at this moment was the internally generated Geek Field. Already, after only two weeks of living out of a single suitcase and sleeping on April's couch there were frightening exhibits of her cousin's influence. It had been hard enough for April to finally arrive at some approximation of mature residence in her apartment and the antique shop, especially with the Turtles coming in and out (she had long-since decided to mentally override all memories of that fire, and the other disaster, and the rest of…anyway, the shop was still standing). When Casey had moved in, for instance, April became the best customer of that strange little stall in central park known for selling only double-sided sticky coasters and the semi-homeless guy three benches down who continued to declare the sale of crazy glue as his primary source of income. It had been (and still was, sometimes) uphill work, but before too long April had managed to arrange a real life home for herself. The colors were right, the drapes were perfect, and every ornament she chose to bring up from the shop fit in exactly the right place.
"What if we don't get along? I mean, what if they don't like me? It happens, you know."
April nodded, attempting to rearrange her expression into something generous with possible veins of consolation. It was difficult.
"I'm sure it doesn't happen that often."
Geneva needed to live with bachelors. She had be absolutely right about that. Recently, small things had been finding their way into April's life that she had not purchased, or vetted, or even knew what to do with. The original Star Wars Trilogy box set casually deposited on top of her TV had been followed by the Buffy DVD left in the player. A stack of Discworld books had appeared as if by magic next to April's collection of genetic science and robotics Academic Journals (what Geneva had since dubbed 'Isaac Asimov Weekly'), the t-shirts coming through the wash always seemed to find themselves on random pieces of furniture and just this morning, although April could not remember seeing it before in her life, a brightly colored comforter was spread across her 19th century, red velvet fainting couch, unfolded just enough to make the picture on one side visible. Where did a person even buy a 'How to Train Your Dragon' blanket?
"But you said they did physical training for hours every day! Won't I be in their way?"
And the boxes and boxes of Count Chocula cereal, and the ring pop wrappers…
"Their dojo is separate from living quarters. You'll be fine."
At any rate, if anybody could take this sort of madness it was the Turtles. April wasn't sure she could make sense of it. She had always been, and still was, a very serious geek, but April had never been able to find a passion for any TV show, or comic book. Geneva's older sister, Maureen, and their mutual cousin Jessica, were all absolute hounds for this stuff, books and films and random pieces of merchandise. Jessica's veritable zoo of pets continued to grow with every new member named after a character in Lord of the Rings, and Maureen had a habit of wearing t-shirts declaring her involvement in the Zombie Defense Coalition. All three of them had tried to explain, at some point or another, the overlying concept of 'Fandom' but had lost April somewhere around 'Squee-Inducers 101'. The cousins had finally given up when April received a failing grade in 'Convention Etiquette'.
Their cousin Gretchen wasn't as crazy about the fandom thing, thankfully. It wasn't possible to share every single permutable gene sequence (except red hair, of course, which seemed to be unavoidable in this family) but even Gretchen would ditch her 300-level course Physics homework to play 'Left for Dead II' and 'Gears of War'.
Maybe she was the milkman's baby. April's mother had been brilliant, of course, but maybe there had been some wild fling with a stolid, practical, blue-collar fellow who just happened to have a milk-delivery route right past…
Oh, never mind.
"But if I'm coming and going all the time, won't that be dangerous for them?"
Only if she was leaking nitroglycerin, April thought dryly.
"Look, Geneva, you're getting an apartment in New York City for less than eight hundred dollars a month, utilities included, the best security system on the continent, and…"
The pause stretched out, April's face breaking into a smile as she returned an oddly-shaped umbrella to the last box.
"…And?" Her cousin finally prodded, "And what?"
The most important reason. April's grin spread further and she leaned down until she was nose-to-nose with her cousin.
"And I've been listening to you worry that this wasn't going to work, but not once have you mentioned the rather obvious fact that they're Giant Mutant Turtles."
The light of understanding clicked on somewhere behind Geneva's expression, her mouth falling into a rather ungraceful 'o' and her left eyebrow attempting something between a jig and the one-man-unicycle-fandango.
"…Aaaah. I see…"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"This is the worst idea ever!"
Hamato Michelangelo was being pointedly ignored, and he thought this was unfair.
Recently, somebody had told Mikey 'not to wail like that ever again'. It had probably been Donnie. But even as Mikey disregarded the command he couldn't help feeling it was utterly necessary. His muscles held specific memories, fine-tuned, nearly perfected, and he lived by them. There were muscles that simply arranged themselves correctly to take his weight from a long fall, muscles that directed him out of easy firing range, muscles that dictated balance on barely existent surfaces, reacted by themselves to catch him on back handsprings, remembered how skateboarding worked, and all of the muscles that were involved in him eating. There were also a whole other set of muscle memories.
Poundings. Mostly by Raph. These were memories that his body took upon itself to avoid if at all possible. He shuddered. Self-preservation was making a serious bid for his attention. His spleen was begging to be defended.
"Come on, you guys, renting out space in our home?"
Donnie sighed, his swivel chair squeaking as he turned to look at his little brother.
"First of all, Mikey enough with the italics. Second, it's not like we're offering advertising space on the north wall, we're just taking in a boarder."
"…for seven hundred dollars a month." Leo added around a bite of ham sandwich. "Donnie needs to set up security, remember? Master Splinter said it would be fine."
Mikey would not be deterred. The real problem was bubbling somewhere under the better parts of his brain (the parts that remembered cheat codes and super villains' real names). He had decided, after the ill-advised sandwich run the other night, that the girl seeing him Had Not Happened. The issue stood, of course, that he couldn't forget it properly if they kept talking about it, or if she was around, and if he couldn't forget it then any hope of innocent denial was impossible. He'd have to explain things. The muscle memory in charge of poundings twinged at him meaningfully and he pressed on.
"But she'll be in our way! We have training and—"
Raph grunted an unpleasant sort of half-laugh and Mikey took a step back, precaution taking up large areas of synapse relays.
"Unless you train out here, and not in the dojo, I'm not seein' how she'd be in your way."
This was not going well. There had been a time, oh so long ago, when Leo would've had to undergo hypnosis, three types of shock therapy, and be bribed with lots of expensive tea before he'd allow anybody into the lair, least of all a human. Even allowing April to really be part of their lives had taken a lot of time, patience, a forty-two day probationary period that only Leo had actually known or cared about, and April simply being herself, which was quite a force, all told. Master Splinter had loved her right away, of course, but Master Splinter, despite occasional appearances, really wanted to like people. It just made him happier if they really were likeable.
But now, some girl they didn't know was being taken in to rent a room, like they were bachelors in a condo with an empty room and in need of a few extra bucks. Granted, that was pretty much true, circumstantially, but this was about context, and living in the sewers with a bunch of mutant turtles and a giant rat was about as far from normal as a person could get.
"But if she's coming and going all the time, won't that be dangerous?"
Leo turned to look at him, curiosity flooding his face and replacing his general expression of Deep-Thought soup with a side of Intensity chips.
"For us or for her?"
Mikey considered this.
"Um…both?"
"Mikey, we've been living in the same place for more than ten years and we're always coming and going. If anybody was going to notice something, they would have noticed us a long time ago. I don't think one human is going to attract much attention."
A low grunt from Raph turned into something that sounded like 'famous last words'. Leo decided to ignore this.
"Look, April says she's ok. I trust April. I mean, we all trust April, and she can vouch for this girl…what's her name?"
"Geneva," Donnie supplied. "Like Switzerland."
"Right. She needs a place to stay, she can pay rent, and April says she's OK."
"But what about—"
"And, unlike Raph's last girlfriend, this girl has no ties to the criminal underworld, doesn't spend all her time trying to start fights andis not an emotionally crippled madwoman…" Donnie looked over his shoulder at the protesting Mikey, thinking back to the well-fed, drowned-housecat look. "So, eccentric at worst. Not likely to kill us in our sleep."
Raph's low growl rang along the brickwork and sent Klunk diving for cover underneath the couch. Mikey fervently wished he could follow suit.
"She was not my girlfriend and that was a very long time—"
"You were pretty cuddly, as I recall, and wasn't she married to some foot ninja—"
"Shut up, Donnie."
This was not going well at all. Mikey's eyes flicked over the monitor in front of his brother and swallowed heavily. The outer door had just been opened.
"But we can't spend all our time watching out for her, right? And, if she wants to learn any—"
Leo held up a hand for silence. He had a genteel streak in him and with his turn of wrist it would have been quite a grand gesture, but the half-eaten ham sandwich was still in that hand and rather spoiled the effect.
"I already asked."
Mikey was impressed and said so, but Leo only rolled his eyes.
"Once bitten, twice shy, is all I'm going to say on that subject. April said she's just a teacher, not a fighter, and she's lived in big cities before."
"What does that mean?"
"It means she isn't stupid enough to walk through unlit back alleys." Donnie said.
Damn. Every excuse he could come up with, taken apart like a toaster on Donatello's desk, now lay utterly decimated and unusable. The screen showed the elevator was now heading down…
"But do we really want a girl down here? I mean, come on, Raph's girlfriend aside – "
"She was not—"
"Even when April stayed here it was tough. Do we really want another redhead wandering around down here, hanging up her underwear in the bathroom and making us eat our leafy greens?"
Mikey tried to feed a cheerful sort of commiseration into the last attempt and failed miserably. He felt cold sweat break out across the top of his head, then along his beak. He was going to be in so much trouble. The elevator doors were opening and the turtles could hear conversation echoing into the large, open space.
But all three of his brothers had stopped, mid-breath, and were staring at him. Leo, his voice lower and the Intensity Chips coming back, ventured their collective thought.
"We never said she was a redhead…"
Oh, shit.
Maybe if he started running now he could reach Mexico by Wednesday.
A/N: Thank you for reading! The action is about to pick up, trust us, and it won't be as long again before the next chapter, I assure you. Reviewers may or may not receive the mutant of their choice... ^_^
