Raphael

She's true to her word and meets me outside the lair at curfew. We walk in together and no one says anything.

"Raphael, you and Zoe need to finish your duties before you go to bed." Sensei looks from me to the kitchen. From where I'm standing I see the dishes overflowing in the sink. Oh, man.

Zoe looks like she'd like to pound me.

Good luck with that Sweetheart.

"You have to do the dishes? I hate doing dishes." She wrinkles her nose and frowns.

I roll my eyes and head for the kitchen.

As she stands next to me at the sink, I notice her face is an odd shade of… yellowish green? Ha, she's turning green. That's funny. Her mouth is fixed in a grimace and she looks like she might be sick.

Reaching into the sink, I fish out a washcloth and move to hand it to her.

She jumps back and shakes her head, "That's gross. I'm not touching that. It's dirty."

I'm laughing so hard I can't breathe, "You live in a sewer and your freaked out by a dirty dishrag?" I'm clutching my stomach. This is hilarious. "Ah, your- that's great." Another roll of laughter erupts from within me. I can't help myself. That's, ha, that's funny.

Finally I'm able to wipe my eyes and look at her. She's standing there arms crossed, eyebrow raised, mouth set in a thin line.

"I'll dry. You let them pile up so you wash." She opens a drawer and pulls out a dry towel then reaches over the faucet and grabs the dish soap and throws it at me.

I catch it, put the plug in the bottom of the sink and fill it up. The bubbles cover all the dishes and some of the water slops over the edge of the counter onto the floor as I scrub.

"You're making a mess. Aren't you going to clean it up?" She frowns and points her towel covered hand to the floor.

"Nah, it'll dry." I keep washing. I try to pass a plate in her direction but she doesn't take it, so I look over at her.

Really? Arms crossed, pouty face, again? Ugh. "What?"

"Dry the floor Raphael." She reaches into the drawer and throws a towel at me.

"No, and stop throwing stuff at me." I flick soapy water at her. It lands across her face leaving a trail of bubbles running from her forehead, down her nose and cheek, her very, very red cheek.

I snicker.

"Grrr."

Is she growling at me? Ha. Whatever. I turn back to the dishes and keep washing.

Suddenly I feel a frigid liquid rush over my head, and a lot of it. I shriek and drop my dish rag. "What the-" As I spin around to face my assailant I lose my footing. My feet keep slipping and I'm flailing to grab onto something. Zoe is standing closest to me, holding a water pitcher. I reach out and grab onto her arm and she jerks forward, losing her footing too. The pitcher flies up in the air as I fall backward slamming my shell on the floor, it bounces off my head, and Zoe lands awkwardly on top of me.

I wait a minute before I move, trying to figure out what just happened. She lifts her head, raising a hand to shove her hair out of her face.

Is she cryin? No, she's laughing! She's laughing so hard, she's crying!

"Get off me!" I shove my hands onto her shoulders, pushing her away. But as she tries to move we become further entangled. Her legs slide back and forth then out and back as she tries to stand. I'm trying to pull my feet in and under me but they keep slipping, and my foot just got hung up on her leg and, "Oh, no, no!"

Her arms are flapping around trying to find something to grab onto, I move my foot to get it away from her but she's moved in the opposite direction. My movement sends her flying face first at me. I throw my hands up, catching her before she can crash into me. Rolling to my side I lower her to the floor beside me. What just happened?

She's still laughing, almost like a little girl with the giggles. I've never seen her laugh this hard. Her hair is soaked and clinging awkwardly to her fair skinned face. There's a dusting of freckles under her eyes and across the bridge of her nose. They're cute. I've never noticed them before. The corners of her mouth are turned up in a smile so wide it may very well reach her ears. Her thick cinnamon colored eyelashes are coated with tears and her gray eyes are glistening beneath them. Strange warmth sparks in the middle of my plastron. Then my fingers move, of their own accord, towards her face. The closer my fingertips get the more I can feel this odd energy pulsing within them. I move her hair away from her cheek, realize what I'm doing and yank my hand back.

"What're you doing?" I yell at her.

"What do you mean, what am I doing?" She stops laughing and rolls onto her hands and knees, sliding in the mess we've made.

"What is the meaning of this?" My father's voice snaps us both to attention.

"Uh- Zoe dropped the water pitcher, she slipped and I tried to catch her but we both fell." I answer quickly.

We don't need to be in more trouble.

Zoe kept her eyes fixed on our Master's face.

I watch my Sensei's eyes dart back and forth between us as he strokes the long strip of fur beneath his chin. His other hand balances on his walking stick with his tail curled around his feet, twitching at its tip.

Ah, we are so in for it.

"Clean this up." He says, tapping his walking stick on the floor once before leaving.

"Whew, that was close." I slap a hand to my face, not realizing its covered in bubbles until they drip down my cheek.