Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT, they belong to Nickelodeon and Viacom. I do, however, own myself, although you wouldn't be able to tell.
Here is another untimely update (though I consider it improvement from the previous), about the aftermath of the kiss. Oh my!
It would have been posted earlier, but I'm unable to resist the power of the Christmas themed plot bunnies! They consume meeeeeeeeeee!
Okay, I think that's everything. Please enjoy!

Leo's POV

I can't believe what I just saw. That – that girl who invaded our home, kissing my brother in our living room. Seconds ago, she bolted to the safety of her guest room, leaving Don to simply gape in disbelief. I don't blame him for this reaction; it's a major shock.

Mikey, unfortunately, is the first to resume speaking after Jade's graceless exit. He crosses behind the couch and drapes himself over the back, a delighted smirk on his beak. I don't envy Don right now. As anticipated, Mikey pounces on this uncomfortable moment, joking tastelessly, "Well, Donnie-boy, how'd you swing that?"

"I don't…know," Don replies haltingly, still stupefied. I never thought I would see the day when Mikey was more articulate than our resident thesaurus, yet here it is: Don is at a loss for words.

Taking advantage of the circumstances, Raph grins wolfishly and teases, "Don, you sly dog! I didn't know you had it in you!"

All Don can do is scowl at Raph, unappreciative of his insinuation. I refrain from commenting, sensing that Don is less than pleased with being in the spotlight and just wants to drop the subject.

Mikey, always the disturber, grins cheekily and leans in close to Don, asking, "Did you liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike it?"

"No!" Don retorts hotly, his face flushing. Mikey cackles at his own wit, stopping abruptly when Don smacks the back of his skull.

"Owwww! Donnieeeeeee," Mikey whines, nursing his bruise.

Raph appears dubious of Don's rapid response, and he hounds, "Are ya sure, Don? From where I was standin', it looked like you were enjoying yourself."

Before Don can lunge at Raphael, I cut in to prevent a brawl from breaking out.

"Stop it, you two. Imagine how Don must feel!" I scold, hoping this will end Don's torture.

Not so. A wicked smile flickers across Raph's face and he quips, "I think he must be feelin' pretty good, seeing as he got to first base."

I'm a bit ashamed that my laugh is so hard to hold in; however, I elegantly turn my rogue snicker into an unimpressed huff, levelling my best disapproving gaze on Raph. Ever irritating, Raph counters with a challenging smirk.

Regaining my composure, I reiterate more emphatically, "That's enough teasing, Raph."

"Leo's right," Mikey grants, vaulting over the couch and landing beside Don. I'm sceptical of this sudden shift, for when it comes to teasing, Mikey never thinks there is enough.

My suspicions are laid to rest when Mikey grabs a throw pillow from the end of the couch and caresses it like a lover, moaning dramatically, "Oh, Jade! I'm only a nerdy green ninja who lost to Michelangelo, the BATTLE NEXUS CHAMPION, but I love you! Kiss me!"

Childishly, Mikey follows up with some loud, wet smooching noises, driving his face into the couch cushion.

The academy awards should be notified of this performance.

Fed up with the abuse, Donatello throws a punch at Mikey, who dodges and leaps off the couch. The two race around the lair in a chase of cat and mouse, Mikey continuing the kissing noises whenever a pause in his laughter allows. Don, to my surprise, is shouting all sorts of colourful threats worthy of Raphael, his face fierce with annoyance.

As the eldest and the leader, it is my duty to step in to mediate any conflict that arises. And I would, were it not for the surrealism of the scene. More often than not, it is Raph and I who are at odds, so this fight between Mikey and Don temporarily paralyzes me with its unfamiliarity.

Raph is – for once – on the same page, because he looks over at me and remarks, "So this is what it's like to watch us fight, eh?"

"No," I reply, wincing when Don stubs a toe on the coffee table Mikey has shunted into his path and curses under his breath. The prankster giggles, suddenly shrieking when Don whips out his bo staff.

"We're much better fighters."

Finally, a moment of peace! Raph is up in the garage, working on his bike; Jade has been in her room writing an essay all afternoon; Don is developing a new type of fuel in his lab; and Mikey is annoying him while he develops this new fuel. Everyone is alive and accounted for.

I slip into the dojo and flick off the light, making my way over to my meditation spot on the far side of the room without any light. The layout of the dojo burned into my memory guides me to the bamboo mat, where I swiftly kneel. I know that a few partially melted candles surround my small patch of serenity, and I grope the rough brick wall for the loose brick. Behind this brick is a deftly concealed packet of matches; one can never be too careful with Mikey and fire. I strike a match, illuminating a handful of the white candles. I exhale and sit cross-legged on the mat, preparing for an hour of meditation.

Now if only my mind would calm down for the necessary cleansing. It has been a struggle to maintain the peace between Mikey, Raph and Don for the past few days; a task made even more difficult when coupled with keeping the Incident quiet in front of Master Splinter.

As predicted, Don eventually caught Mikey by outsmarting him – although you'd think Mikey would have realized the unguarded plate of cookies was a trap set for him. I wouldn't have intervened had Don not strapped Mikey to a table in his lab and tried to remove his tongue. Where he got a tongue extractor, I'm afraid to ask. Shortly following my stern conversation with Don about removing siblings' body parts, it was suppertime.

Unfortunately, this was no better than the afternoon. The silence of the meal was suffocating as Jade and Don refused to speak or make eye contact with anyone. Mikey's jabbering would have been sufficient filler, had he not been entirely focused on embarrassing couple moments from movies. He even managed to get Sensei in on it, our father sharing a few anecdotes from his stories. Mikey would have told Master Splinter about the Incident – as the kiss between Don and Jade has been dubbed – had Raph not given him a solid kick under the table each time he tried to bring it up. I did my part and trained a disapproving glare on Mikey, a threat of many backflips in his future if he didn't keep his mouth shut. After three attempts and three equally harsh kicks, Mikey abandoned the topic.

Two days have since passed and today, I have yet to see Jade longer than two minutes. Mikey drove her to school after practice this morning and Don picked her up a few hours ago, to everyone's chagrin. Upon returning to the lair they each disappeared into their respective rooms without so much as a word. Jade only emerged from her room momentarily for a glass of water this afternoon, murmuring a quick salutation and retreating to her fortress under the premise of writing a paper. Don was (thankfully) not present, for he had shut himself in his lab with no sign of leaving any time soon. His excuse for being in the lab is reasonable: he's developing that new fuel we need for the Battle Shell. A failsafe excuse.

I don't condone avoiding one's problems, but he is being productive. I'll permit him his space for the time being.

I sympathize, in desperate need of space myself. It's a bit disturbing how much of my attention has been on the exchange between my brother and Jade a few days ago.

Hopefully, meditation will assist my focus.

Breathe in…breathe out….breathe in…breathe out…breathe i–

"Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooo ooooooooo," I hear Mikey call quietly, his breath tickling my ear.

I momentarily consider ignoring Mikey and pretending that I've slipped into a deeper state of meditation. Then I recall the last time I ignored Mikey during meditation. After five consecutive minutes of poking and prodding, he decided that the most effective way of getting my attention was throwing Klunk at me. I think I speak for both Mikey's cat and I when I say it wasn't.

Wearily I open my eyes and ask with a note of dread, "What is it, Mikey?"

At his impish smile I internally sigh. I know that expression too well, for it has preceded every punishment we have ever received courtesy of Mikey. Not interested.

His eyes shining mischievously in the candle glow, Mikey says in hushed excitement, "I have the best idea! But I need your help. Are you in?"

"Mikey, I don't think–"

"Come on!" he insists, hauling me to my feet and dragging me out of the dojo. Resistance is futile against Mikey when he's in this state. I suppose I can spare a few minutes to listen to and refuse to be a part of Mikey's ludicrous plan before resuming my meditation.

When we reach the living room, I see Michelangelo's other reluctant recruits seated on the couch. Raph and Don look just about as enthused about Mikey's 'brilliant' plan as I am.

"Alright, nimrod. Why'd ya drag us out here? Raph demands roughly, his habitual impatience bearing its ugly head.

Mikey clasps his hands behind his back and strides down our informal line, beginning dramatically, "Gentlemen…and Raph."

I inwardly groan at Mikey's use of the word 'gentlemen', sensing that this will be a long-winded speech. Raising his chin importantly, he continues, "I have called you all here to join me in a super top secret mission. It is a recovery operation that will require the utmost stealth and cunning. We, as ninja, are honour bound to fight the oppressor from the shadows; and as brothers, we are bound to stand by each other. Yes, this is a turning point—"

"Speaking of points, Mikey, do you have one?" Don queries, clearly anxious to get back to work.

Mikey deflates slightly, disappointed that he has been interrupted; however, he straightens and explains in simpler terms, "I think we should go into Jade's room and sneak a peek at her notebook."

I know that Michelangelo has some bad ideas, but this has to be one of his worst. Not only would we be invading her privacy, we would also be forsaking the honour we hold in high regard.

…well, I hold in high regard.

"Mikey, that isn't a good idea," I rationalize. "It would be rude and unfair."

"Aw c'mon, Leo! Haven't you been dying to know what she writes about us?" Mikey entices, coming closer. With every emphasized word, he takes a step toward me, drawing out, "Don't you want to know what she's posting about us on the internet for the whole world to see?"

I frown; Mikey raises a valid point. Jade could be posting practically anything – including our location. I feel sick just thinking about the pandemonium that would erupt if directions to our lair wound up on the internet. There would be fan girls everywhere. I wouldn't have a moment's peace!

Nonetheless, I know it's still wrong. I shake my head, repeating, "No, Mikey, it isn't right. We can't read her secret thoughts."

"Oh, kinda like how she extracted every little detail from us in her so-called interviews?" Raph derides. "Leo, it won't hurt nothin'! She doesn't even have to know."

Don seems to be pondering Raph's logic and he looks at me thoughtfully. Slowly, he ventures, "Well…I guess that we could review it for accuracy."

I'm still torn between my sense of honour and my undeniable desire to read what Jade is writing about us. Breaching Jade's trust would be bad, but allowing her to divulge potentially harmful information about my family would be worse.

Reluctantly, I comply, "Alright, we'll do it. But we'll have to be quick, and we can't let her know we read it."

To my mild amusement Mikey jumps up, punching a fist into the air victoriously. He knows that he's manipulated us…again. I'm baffled by how he manages that.

"Righteous!" he exclaims and he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs. Leaning in surreptitiously, Mikey says, "Okay, here's the plan: Raph and I will sneak into Jade's room while Leo, the Master of Stealth, keeps lookout."

"Wait, what about me?" Don asks, suddenly worried that he has been left out of the mission. Despite his initial foot-dragging, he doesn't want to be excluded from the plan any more than he wants to be a part of it. None of us would want to be left out; sibling mentality.

"You, brother, are going to be…how shall I put this…" Mikey clasps his chin thoughtfully, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "The Bait."

When Don doesn't speak, Mikey explains, "All you have to do is get Jade to come out of her room–"

"And how do you propose I do that?" Don enquires warily, his tone implying that he knows the answer.

"Woo her with the old turtle charm!" Mikey declares, as if it were obvious. "A little conversation, some candlelight, a quick kiss—"

"Oh, no! NO! I am not going through that again!" Don protests adamantly, holding his hands up to ward off any further solicitation from his least favourite brother.

"What's the matter? Was she a bad kisser?" Raph teases, fighting the urge to smirk.

"Well, no," Don replies, earning a couple looks. Elegant as always, he quickly recovers, "But that is beside the point! I just…It wouldn't be fair to play with her feelings like that."

"Alright, alright! Chill out, dude," Mikey raises his palms in a calming gesture. "I'll handle Jade; you help Raph get the notebook while Leo plays lookout."

I'm pleasantly surprised by Mikey's organization and feel a small surge of pride – even if his plan is intended for evil.

He raises an eye ridge and asks, "Are we agreed?"

The three of us bob our heads in unison.

"Awesome!" Mikey exclaims, jumping to his feet. Excitedly he crows, "It's ninja time!"

I cringe, vowing that I will never use that catchphrase. Don merely slaps a hand to his face, already regretting his consent to join this ridiculous scheme. If I'm honest, I'm having second thoughts too.

"C'mon, dweeb, let's get this over with," Raph grouches, giving Mikey's bandana tails a brusque jerk. Unfazed by the lack of eagerness, Mikey bounds toward the guestroom and the three of us follow along more stealthily. Don and I duck behind one pillar while Raph conceals himself behind another, watching Mikey advance to the door.

Always one for drama, Mikey cracks his knuckles, then his neck, before lifting his fist to knock. It hovers in mid-air for a long moment before Mikey frowns, seeming to realize something. He turns back to us and calls in a stage whisper, "I don't know what to say!"

"Just make something up!" Don hisses back, shaking his head at Mikey's hopelessness. It's frightening to think that Mikey is the brains behind this operation. I really need to re-evaluate my decisions.

Mikey purses his lips in thought, humming to himself for a good thirty seconds. Suddenly his face brightens and he almost shouts, "Oh, I know! I'll tell her that an alien parasite has taken over Raph's body and the only way to kill it is with strawberry jam, but we're all out, so she has to go to the store!"

Sometimes, Michelangelo leaves me speechless.

Raph growls irritably and urges, "Dammit, Don, go help him!"

"Fine," Don mumbles, cautiously proceeding to the door. Once level with Mikey, he begins with admirable patience, "Okay Mikey, let's start with a more realistic story–"

"Well, Donnie-boy, you seem to have everything well in hand! Why don't you do it? Thanks, bye!"

Mikey raps on the door and quickly dissolves, reappearing seconds later beside Raph. It takes Don a couple of seconds to recognize that he has been ditched.

"Mikey–" Don starts to say, but he abruptly stops when the guestroom door swings open to reveal a very confused author. I withdraw to my hiding place in a swift motion, certain she didn't see me. And if all goes well, she won't see me.

"Hey, Don," she greets, sounding friendly despite the bemusement that I saw etched into her features. "What's up?"

"I – uh…I wanted to ask you if…um…"

I press my fingers to my eyelids, starting to think we would be better off with Mikey as the distraction. It's so unlike Don to be tongue-tied. Maybe the notion that he has a crush on Jade isn't too far-fetched.

Don is still struggling to say something, his pitch rising steadily through his babbling. Snorting derisively, Mikey whispers from his hiding place, "And he said my story sucked."

I catch his eye and make a sharp hand signal, commanding quiet. After all, if I can hear Mikey from fifteen feet away, Jade can probably hear him too. And the thought of having our shells handed to us by an angry fan fiction author isn't comforting.

Putting Don out of his misery, Jade finally interjects, "Listen, Don, I know why you're here."

I go completely still, listening intently. Could she have figured out our plan? No, of course not. She isn't that perceptive. She hasn't noticed yet that Mikey has been using her shower gel for the past three weeks, although I don't think she'd object. It is animprovement over his usual odour.

I take advantage of the momentary pause in dialogue to peer out from my hiding place. Thankfully, in Don's initial attempt to escape he positioned himself just left of the doorway, so Jade has her back partially to me in order to face him. I make brief eye contact with Don, a silent indication for him to respond. I'm fortunate because out of my three siblings, Don is the one I can trust the most to understand me without words.

"What do you mean?" he asks, his voice returning to its normal register.

"You're looking for an apology," Jade states simply. I furrow my brow, wondering how she deduced that from Don's senseless babbling.

Before he can either confirm or deny this, Jade barrels on, "Look, I'm really sorry about what I did the other day, embarrassing you like that. It was rude of me to kiss you without consent. I'm also sorry your brothers have been giving you a hard time about it. I promise it won't happen again. Could we just…" she shakes her head, grasping for words, "forget about it and try to be friends?"

When she talks like this, I almost think she's a rational human being. Then, I'm reminded that she's a fan fiction author and absolutely nothing good can come from that.

"Thanks," Don replies and I'm pleased to hear that he's no longer panicking. "And yeah, I'd like it if we were friends. It would make the drives to and from school far less awkward."

She laughs self-consciously and concurs, "For sure."

They're quiet for a few seconds before Jade gestures to her open door, excusing herself. "Well, I still have to revise my essay. I swear History will be the death of me!"

Although I wasn't keen on this plan in the first place, I now find myself determined to complete the mission. Maybe it's because I hate failure or my curiosity has gotten the better of me, but I have to follow this through. Imagine the humiliation of being bested by a fan fiction author!

I communicate the urgency to get Jade out of the hot zone to Don with my eyes, hoping he'll be able to pull it off.

"Wait!" Don all but shouts, causing Jade to jump. If she hadn't suspected something was up before, she does now. We all wait in the momentary silence as Don pieces together his next sentence.

"Would you like to take a break with me?" he finally asks with a friendly smile.

Jade shakes her head and retreats a step, apologizing, "I'm sorry, Don, I have so much to do–"

"Come on," he insists, gently seizing her wrist before she turns. I raise my brows at this unexpected show of courage, knowing Don is not terribly comfortable with physical contact. Of course, the same can be said for all of us except Mikey. I'm positive that he would wander the streets of New York offering free hugs if we let him.

"You convinced me to take a break," he says, reminding her of some moment they shared that I'm not privy to. "The least you can do is follow your own advice."

She inhales and even from behind I sense that she intends to protest this but Don is in control. He silences her with a raised hand, a skill that I didn't know he possessed.

"Ten minutes," he promises, his eyes meeting hers.

The moment Jade's shoulders relax, I know she has surrendered. It seems Don has picked up some tricks from Mikey, Raph and I when it comes to outwitting a workaholic. And while he doesn't heed our warnings like he should, Don has absorbed our words and now easily turns our tactics of persuasion on Jade. I identify them easily: He employed Mikey's stand-by, which consists of getting the other person to join him for some kind of distracting activity, and I'm almost positive that I've used that tone of voice with him on many occasions. Thankfully, he doesn't use any of Raph's methods, which entail physical force and yelling.

"Alright. Ten minutes," she relents, emphasizing the time limit. Her tone conversational, she asks, "So, what did you have in mind?"

"Uh…" Don racks his brains, returning to his more timid nature, "Do you want to have a coffee break in the kitchen?"

Jade smiles and says, "I'll join you, but not for the coffee." Her face now in profile, I see her nose wrinkle as she confesses, "I hate coffee, it smells awful!"

Don's face is totally placid for a second; then, he says with utmost severity, "We can't be friends."

"What?" Jade peers at him quizzically, her face showing confusion.

A few seconds go by before Don replies with a note of humour, "You just insulted coffee, the most delicious of all beverages. Such slander is unforgivable."

At this Jade laughs, Don allowing himself a smile. The girl folds her arms over her chest and quips, "The most potent, perhaps, but certainly not the most delicious." She innocently cocks her head to the side and taunts, "Care to prove me wrong?"

"I'd love to," Don replies without missing a beat, rising to the challenge. I exchange a brief look with Raphael, whose face displays the same expression of disbelief. Is Don, the same turtle who still occasionally blushes and stutters around April…flirting? With a fan fiction author?

I'm forced to set aside these musings in favour of shifting my position to remain out of Jade's sight as Don leads her to the kitchen. When she is out of earshot, I gesture for Raph and Mikey to quickly proceed to the guestroom.

Once they slink into the room, I return my attention to my targets, quietly stalking my brother, who no doubt detects my presence, and Jade, who is totally unaware. I duck behind the divider that separates the kitchen from the living area, hearing the sounds of coffee through the plaster wall. The counter, sink, stove and refrigerator are all on the opposite side, propped up by the simple divider. It provides cover for me, and privacy, albeit minimal, for the occupants of the kitchen. I hear the clatter of dishware as Don gathers his supplies, the whir of the coffee machine soon masking any other movements. Considering the fact that Don approaches coffee brewing much like an artist does painting, they'll be in the kitchen for at least ten minutes: sufficient time for Mike and Raph to find the notebook.

…I think.

Don is the first to speak, raising his voice over the dripping of the coffee machine as he asks, "What are you doing?"

"Getting a glass of water, in the event that this coffee tasting goes the way I suspect it will," Jade replies, receiving a laugh.

The putter of the coffee machine slows, and Don resumes motion. I can vividly picture his movements, for I have watched him prepare coffee in an identical manner countless times. I hear the trickle of liquid and imagine Don pouring a cascade of dark brown liquid into two mugs. I've no doubt that Don has chosen the large mug with the Ewok on it for himself; it's his favourite. I then hear the bell-like clink of the spoon tapping the side of the sugar bowl, followed by a few similar sounds as Don stirs in his spoonful of sugar. I then hear Don pad across the floor and open the fridge, asking, "Would you like sugar and milk in your coffee? I hear it's best for first time drinkers."

"It can't be any worse than arsenic, I'm sure," Jade jokes dryly and I picture Don rolling his eyes at her. He prepares the beverage and I hear him command, "Drink it."

Jade sighs and my ears are shortly met with a swallow. Instead of an inquiry from Don, I hear hearty laughter burst forth from my brother. The mug lands on the counter behind my head with a thud and I hear Jade gag, snapping, "I don't see what's so funny, Donatello."

"Y-your…your face! It…it's-s-s…." Don deserts his attempts to speak then, yielding to the laughter that racks his chest. I hear Jade thirstily gulp down the glass of water and the cup lands on the counter with a loud thud.

"Shut up," she counters playfully as Don's laughter decrescendos into good natured chuckles.

"Alright, I'm sorry. But Jade, your face was priceless!" Don defends, laughing at the memory. "Was the coffee that bad?"

"No, it was worse," she grumbles, refilling her glass from the tap. I hear the scraping of chairs and realize that they have each taken a seat at our small kitchen table.

Don initiates the conversation again, beginning, "So, you've been in your room pretty much all afternoon with that essay of yours." Jade groans in confirmation. "How has school been going, anyway?"

"It's been good," she replies airily. After a second, she adds with a bit of strain, "Busy."

"How so?" Don enquires, pressing for more information.

"Well, of course my professors have been gradually increasing the workload for us," Jade explains, her voice businesslike. "They were easy on us for the first four weeks because they didn't want to scare the freshmen off with the amount of assignments and readings for classes."

She sighs and a chair shifts, my muscles tensing in anticipation. I relax when I determine that was not the sound of Jade pushing out her chair to leave, although I don't let my guard down.

Jade's voice holds a note of uncertainty when she asks, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Um…sure," Don gives her the go-ahead and I can discern the apprehension.

"Today I had a meeting with one of my professors," she begins and I find myself frowning. She doesn't strike me as a trouble maker. Then again, perhaps her stubborn nature has caused problems at school.

Apparently Don's face conveys the same thought process, for Jade insists, "Don't worry, I'm not in trouble. He just wanted to discuss the school musical with me.

"Because one of the focuses of my education is performing arts, my school puts on a production every year. Last week was the audition period for the show and all of the students are required to prepare an audition. We all try out but only about three quarters of the students get parts on stage. The others are in charge of costumes, lighting, sets, make up and stage crew. There is no guarantee that a student will get in, although one's chances increase when he or she becomes an upperclassmen."

Jade's excitement is now poorly contained, her voice betraying her as she continues, "One of the professors from my audition called me in to his office today and he said that they cast me in a supporting role! That's highly unusual, as freshmen rarely are rarely cast, let alone in a speaking role. He says I'm the youngest student to be in the school's annual production."

"That's great, Jade! Congratulations!" Don applauds her, genuinely excited about her success.

I agree with Don's sentiment, sensing this is a huge accomplishment; however, her last line catches my attention. I had initially estimated she was eighteen, like my brothers and I, or even nineteen. Now, I'm not so sure.

Don is again on the same thought plane, because he asks as delicately as possible, "So, Jade. Uh…exactly how old are you?"

There is definite hesitation on her end, and when Jade finally answers, her voice is tight.

"…Fifteen."

My eyes widen in surprise and I hear Don demand, "Really?"

"Yeah," she replies, sounding embarrassed. Quickly she adds, "But I turn sixteen in October."

"Fifteen," Don breathes, the chair creaking as he leans back. I hear him bark out a laugh and envision him shaking his head.

"What?" she asks.

"Your classmates must not be fond of you," he replies jokingly. "Your scholarship and age were probably intimidating enough, but now that you've been cast in your school's production…" He releases a breath. "From what I've heard, specialty schools are competitive."

"It's been tough making friends," she admits and I find myself surprised by this confession. I've always accepted that my family would be rejected by humans, yet I never expected it to happen to humans. Curious, how susceptible humans are to jealousy.

"I've met a couple people. Abby–she was supposed to be my roommate–and Jeffery, a guy in my dance class. Alex…."

She trails off then and clears her throat, continuing, "But I couldn't say anything to them, in case they weren't cast. I wouldn't want to brag. You're the first person I've told."

I catch a sudden movement in the corner of my eye and my head snaps toward it, my eyes narrowed. In the shadows I see a green hand waving something like a pennant: the notebook.

I nod in understanding and creep from my hiding place, making my way to the dojo under the cover of the few pieces of furniture that are large enough for me to conceal myself with. I wait inside the dojo for a minute before proceeding out to the open area, making a path toward the kitchen. When I enter, Don and Jade are still conversing, although the topic is now Don's most recent invention. I smile pleasantly and set about making some tea, opting not to cut in.

Jade notices me and greets, "Hey, Leo. How was your meditation session?"

"Excellent, thank you," I reply, keeping my shell to her in case my face betrays me. I hear her push back her chair and she leans in beside me, placing her glass in the sink.

"Sorry, but I really have to get back to work," she apologizes, her expression sheepish. Jade smiles at Don and she says, "Thanks again for the chat, Don. I'll see you guys later!"

With a wave she rushes off, her mind already set on her work.

Don and I go about our business for a few minutes, ensuring that Jade is settled in her room before locking eyes. It's time to congregate with the rest of the team.

By some unspoken agreement, we all wind up in Mikey's room, where Raph and Mike have made themselves comfortable. Mikey is sitting on the end of his bed while Raph leans against the wall beside the head of the bed, twirling a sai with a bored expression.

"Did you get it?" I ask, wasting no time.

"Yeah, we found it," Mikey replies, waving the prized object above his head.

"No thanks to you," Raphael mutters, shoving his sai into his belt violently. He pushes off the wall and strides past Mikey, taking a swat at him in passing. My youngest brother ducks and shrieks girlishly, bleating, "Raaaaaaaaaph!"

"What took you two so long?" Don wonders and I glance at the clock on Mikey's bedside table. It's after five already? It took us almost half an hour to get Jade out, retrieve the notebook and get her back into her room! Our next training run will be focused on speed as well as stealth.

I look to Raph for explanation and he says, "Sorry, Don, the damn thing was near impossible ta find! She had it stashed in her backpack with all her school notes and stuff." Raph shoots Mikey a glare and concludes, "Then genius over here decided we should start playin' with everythin' in sight."

"I did not!" Mikey squawks in indignation, bolting up from the bed. "I only played with her cool clicker thingy."

I grimace at this and Don rubs his temples resignedly as he asks, "Precisely what was this 'clicker thingy'? Something easily repaired, I hope?"

"I dunno," Mikey responds, shrugging helplessly as he plunks down on his bed again.

"Raph?" I question my other brother, raising my eye ridges expectantly.

"No idea," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest out of habit.

"Well guys, let's check this thing out," I suggest after a few seconds, returning the focus to the object of curiosity currently in Mikey's possession.

We gather around him on his bed, although not before heaving the mess of dog-eared comic books, art supplies and half-finished food off the comforter.

Once settled, the four of us simply stare at the thing as if anticipating an explosion or a flash of mysterious light. Call me paranoid, but it wouldn't be the first time.

It appears ordinary enough: a dark blue cover, spiral binding and three holes punched down the side in a vertical line. However, as we have come to learn, looks can be deceiving.

"Should I open it?" Mikey whispers, observing the scribbler intently.

"No other way ta read it, is there?" Raph remarks sardonically and I only have the mind to direct a disparaging look at him. Honestly, can't he turn it off for a few minutes?

Building the already stifling tension, Mikey slowly reaches for the bottom corner of the notebook, peeling it back as he hums what I recognize as the theme from "Harry Potter" quietly. After about ten seconds, his progress has only revealed one third of the first page, and we've all grown tired of Mikey's antics.

Without any warning, Don snatches the notebook from Mikey's hands and grumbles, "For the love of – I'll open it!"

"Hey!" Mikey objects, but the book is already open. Don begins reciting aloud:

"At the sound the woman whirled around, eyes wide in astonishment. This look of surprise swiftly changed to one of fury, and she lunged at Tintin, missing him only because he had enough sense to dive out of the way. She hit the door with enough force to slam it shut, grunting on impact. Tintin's landing was less than graceful and he found himself sprawled out on the floor on his rump. Propped up by his left arm, Tintin raised a hand in defence."

"Tintin? Who the hell is that?" Raph voices his confusion, which matches my own. Don frowns to himself, momentarily lost in thought.

"Maybe it's one of those OC people," Mikey pipes up. We all cast him a confused look and he elaborates, "You know, like an original character? Authors put them in the fandom and make them interact with the canon characters."

"You read that trash?" Raph demands disgustedly.

"Hey, I thought I'd check out some of this fan fiction stuff, just to see what it was about," he defends. Then his beak crinkling, he adds, "Although there are some things I wish I could unread."

I'm about to explore this subject further but Don resumes narrating, his face furrowed in thought.

"'I'm not—' he began, but the woman had already grabbed a belt that was hanging on the back of the door and wound one end around her left hand, her right dangling the buckle dangerously. Feeling around him, Tintin grasped something hard and wooden: the shaft of an umbrella. He scrambled to his feet, using the umbrella to lift himself off the floor and held out his weapon horizontally.

"The woman spared no time charging him, and it was all Tintin could do to stop the buckle from colliding with his throat. The umbrella took the brunt of the next two blows and as she wound up for another, Tintin ducked to the side, somersaulting into a crouch. She pivoted to face him and enclosed the belt buckle in her fist, the corner sticking out between her index and middle finger. It was an effective substitute for brass knuckles."

"The girl sounds kinda badass," Raph remarks and we all give him an incredulous look. "What? S'not like no one else was thinkin' it."

Don continues.

"'Hold it!' Tintin appealed as he stood, but she darted forward, aiming for his face. He raised his umbrella in time to intercept the punch, skewing her aim. Tintin stepped back and fumbled with the mechanism of the umbrella, popping it open as she threw another punch. Her fist made a fleeting impression in the bright red fabric of the canopy.

Before she could strike again, Tintin tossed aside the umbrella and rushed forward, leading with his shoulder. When his shoulder connected with the soft flesh of the woman's abdomen she stumbled back and collided with the far wall, releasing a puff of air. Tintin paused for a moment, worried he had actually hurt her. His concern evaporated when the woman pushed off of the wall, shifting into an offensive position. This time, Tintin was ready for her attack as she–"

"Hey! I know who that guy is!" Mikey suddenly cries, interrupting Don for the third time. He looks at Don and asks, "You remember those comic books about the reporter and the white dog? Where they solve the mysteries?"

Don's eyes brighten with understanding and he says, "That's right! We had one of those when we were kids. What was it…'The Crab with the Golden Claws'!"

While Don and Mikey appear to have experienced an epiphany, Raph and I remain in the dark, sharing a perplexed look.

"What're you two boneheads talkin' about?" Raph snarls, annoyed that he is out of the loop.

"Tintin is a character from a series of French comics written by a Belgian author under the name of Hergé," Don informs us.

While I'm a bit better off for the enlightenment, Raphael is not as pleased. Clenching his fists, he seethes, "So you're tellin' me that we wasted all that time on the wrong notebook?! Everythin's gone ta shell!"

Although I wouldn't lose my control like that, I too am disappointed that we didn't find what we were looking for. I glance over at Don to gage his reaction and am surprised to see him avidly reading the acquired notebook. He notices my gaze he lowers the book to his lap, contradicting Raph and I.

"I disagree. We may not have found what we were looking for, but it wasn't a waste of time. Jade's writing is actually good."

I realize that Mikey has been quiet for over a minute and I turn to him. I'm mildly alarmed at the hurt expression that overtakes his features. Concerned, I ask, "What's wrong, Mikey? It's not like we lost anything valuable. It's probably best that we don't read her fan fiction, anyway."

"You guys don't get it," Mike shakes his head, his voice hallow and grave. He sighs and demands exasperatedly, "Don't you realize what this means?"

Silence.

Uncharacteristically, Mikey heaves an exasperated sigh and wails, "Jade's cheating on us with another fandom!"

I recoil from this statement not because it's hurtful – to the contrary, it's a relief to not be the sole focus of Jade's fan girl tendencies – but because Mikey has expressed himself in awkward terms. I swear he does it on purpose.

I feel dishonourable, knowing that we're being punished for trying to steal and read Jade's private notebook. It's time to take the lead and return this property to its rightful owner.

"Alright, now we have to get this back to Jade's room unseen–"

I halt when the bedroom door bangs open and my hand flies to the handle of my katana, my feet hitting the floor.

Standing in the doorframe is Jade, her hands poised on her hips and her posture aggressive.

"I believe you boys have something that belongs to me," she grinds out, her eyes sharp.

"Uh oh," Mikey says, wincing at her harsh glare. Always quick to lay blame, he stabs his finger at Don and tattles, "He read your book!"

Don splutters in indignation, unable to form a sentence. Jade merely smirks and steps up to him, plucking the notebook from his fingers. She laughs at his startled expression and gloats, "You'll never find my stuff about you. After my last run in with Raph and Mikey, I relocated my notebooks to a safe place. And rest assured, I will be changing my penname so you won't be able to find it on the internet."

"The internet!" Don exclaims, slapping a hand to his face. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Wait," I interrupt, rounding on Don. "You mean to tell me that you could have easily looked her up on the internet?"

"What the hell did we do all this sneaking around for?!" Raph growls.

"I…um…I forgot?" Don replies bashfully, his smile edgy.

Jade laughs nervously, sensing that tensions are high. She backs slowly from the room, saying, "Well, I can see you four have some debriefing to do. I'll just…go."

Like a flash, she disappears, most likely to make some changes to her profile.

"Okay, so that was a bust," Mikey admits, his attitude vastly improved as he adds, "But that doesn't mean we're down for the count! We just need a new approach."

After a few seconds of thought, he snaps his fingers in an "Aha!" moment. Grabbing Don by the shoulders, Mikey begins, "Donnie, this time you'll take Jade outside the lair. And bro, just take one for the team and kiss her, alright? While you do that–"

Mike is cut off by Raphael shoving him face first onto the bed, sitting on his head to keep him pinned. His perch is less than solid, for Mikey keeps wiggling around under his shell, but Raph maintains the hold. I'm not really worried until the muffled protests subside, because when Mikey stops talking it means that he's seriously hurt.

I sigh labouredly and chide, "Raph, get off Mikey's head. He'll suffocate!"

Raph raises his eye ridges and asks, "Would that be a bad thing."

"Raph."

"…fine."

Mikey pops up from the mattress gasping for breath, clutching his chest. "Shell, dude! What was that for?"

"For bein' an idiot," Raph counters irritably, cuffing him. I sigh again.

And to think: I planned to meditate this afternoon.

Poor Leo can never get any peace!
So the boys teamed up against the evil fan girl and won! Well…sort of…okay, not really.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next will be from my perspective and I will be interviewing, drumroll please…CASEY and APRIL (but mainly APRIL)! So, send in any more interview questions you might have for those two.
Thank you all for reading!