I do not own Dr. Elder, nor any characters from the TMNT universe.

This story was co-authored by myself and CheshireDreaming. She did all the planning and instigated the story so the vast majority of credit goes to her *applause*. You can find her account at; CheshireDreaming dot deviantart dot com

Chapter ten;Tammy

Give me a degree, I have officially majored in stupid.

Why the heck did I tell Quinn the doctor named her? She probably doesn't want to know the dude is still alive, much less attached to her on some kind of weird, crazy-man emotional level.

Fortunately she didn't ask any other questions… probably due to the weird-out factor my answer had provided.

Mikey put me down in the sewers, joy of joys for my shoes. Donatello put Thatch down and I was a little surprised to find he preferred to stay close to my side. I probably should have paid him, or the turtles, or Quinn a little more attention, but I found my thoughts occupied with trying to decide my next step. I didn't know how long today's turn of events would postpone my plans, but now I had to find the file on Thatcher, maybe the one on Quinn as well as evidence unrelated to either of them proving beyond a doubt that Dr. Elder was a crazy as… well... as he was.

I also wanted to know what I'd have to do to get my dad's gun back, and if that was still an option. Then again, considering the spectacle I'd made of myself last time I was down here I probably shouldn't ask.

Thatcher bumped into my leg and I glanced down at him just in time to see and step over an uneven stone in the floor. The little guy was looking less like a dog now, more dragon and if my eyes weren't mistaken his wings were a little larger now. They looked like they fit him rather than were haphazardly attached. When I looked up again I barely caught Quinn glancing away from me and it suddenly occurred to me to wonder; who had she been?

These thoughts as well as several others ran through my mind and kept me pretty much distracted until we arrived at the lair.

The place was bigger and… uh… stonier than I'd remembered. Then again, going from a barely contained nervous wreck to an actual nervous wreck tended to affect my memory adversely. Quinn seemed almost at home, she accepted a package from Master Splinter and happily looked through its contents. Last I saw of her Donnie wanted to talk to her and they went off somewhere together.

I waited nervously for a moment, feeling shy and out of place. Before I could find a quiet corner or something to situate myself in Master Splinter's actions caught my attention. He leaned down considerably and offered his hand low to the floor, all the while talking in a low, soothing voice. I smiled when Thatcher showed the courage to leave my side and walked close enough to sniff the offered hand. With a smile the venerable rat turned his hand over Thatch's head and patted him lightly before straightening. Thatcher returned to my side looking pleased with himself.

"A fine young creature." Master Splinter noted with some amusement. Turning his focus on me, Master Splinter fixed me with a look that nearly made me look to see if I was wearing some kind of rat fur coat or something. "You work for the doctor who caused their alteration?" I didn't need to ask for him to explain what he meant by 'their'.

"Kinda." I bit my lip to keep from babbling about internships and no choice and only about a thousand other things that came to mind. Strangely; I had the feeling that he was asking questions he already knew the answers to, just like my father. "I had no idea exactly what he was doing until yesterday."

"But you knew he did research?" Splinter pressed.

Don't tell me he's PETA. "I thought he was studying pharmacokinetics." I ask the reader if they have ever seen a rat's eyes glaze over. It is an interesting sight. "How medications move through the body."

Fortunately he did not break out a bucket of red paint (I'd heard horror stories), but rather nodded. "I see." He said, and I believe he did.

Master Splinter glanced down at Thatcher and lifted a brow. The dragon was sniffing at the rat's cane in a manner that clearly broadcasted 'tree' behavior. Before Thatch's doggy mind could decide to leave his mark the cane was lifted and used to scratch at the patch of scales between his wings. Although Thatcher jumped at first he seemed to like the feeling.

After that things passed by more or less in a blur. Somebody shouted that Heroes was on and everyone piled into the room. Thatcher glued himself to my leg and left a nice puddle at the sudden commotion while Mikey dragged me to the monitoring area and asked if I had seen last week's episode. After admitting I'd never seen any of them before I was treated to a running storytelling that did not take commercial breaks nor –apparently- need to breathe. By the time the third act had started Raph was ready to kill Mikey; I was ready to let him. Despite Mikey's best efforts I was no closer to understanding the show than I had been before.

While the two of them unknowingly reenacted a popular scene my own brothers often went through I completely missed Leonardo leaving and getting pizza. When dinner was served it was again a scene I was more than familiar with (fortunately Mom had learned long ago to make enough for herself and Dad plus their garbage compactor offspring.) I quickly grabbed enough for myself and Thatcher (Yes they have a cat; sorry they're out of cat food till tomorrow).

While stripping Thatcher's piece of cheese, sausage and other doggy-toxins I noted that Quinn had only grabbed two pieces for herself. At first I worried that the mutation process negatively affected the appetite but Thatcher's whining for more –a lot more- food proved just the opposite.

Fortunately, with the smell of food in the air Thatcher seemed to forget his concerns in favor of begging. Despite my vigilance I noted both Mikey and Raph slipping Thatcher toppings that they would likely regret later. If there was any such thing as karma they'd regret it all over their beds.

The most surprising element of all was that by the end of the show, although still highly confused on the plot, I found myself to be comfortable. Sure I was the only absolute human in the place, but there was something familiar about being partially squished between two bodies watching TV while the …erm… 'dog' begged.

After the show the guys group broke up. Quinn seemed content, and half asleep, on the couch while Leo stood up and started issuing orders. Raphael was left behind to babysit while his brothers headed out on patrol. I don't know how they figured it out, but the guys seemed to figure out that I kind of wanted to stay but I was glad to hear it was acceptable. Mikey showed off with his nunchucks for a bit and Don promised we could start looking Thatcher over first thing in the morning. Before I could ask exactly what he meant by 'first thing in the morning' Leo had gotten Mikey's scattered attention and they had left.

After the three of them had gone it was relatively peaceful. Quinn fell asleep on the couch, her tail falling onto the floor while Thatcher crawled under the table and was soon snoring softly. Master Splinter reappeared and started watching some nighttime soaps while Raph attacked a punching bag hanging in what I had been told was called a 'dojo'. I wandered around a bit under the unseen but undoubtedly felt gaze of Raphael until I found some cleaning supplies and set to work trying to burn off my nervous energy on cleaning up after Thatcher (he'd been more productive than originally thought).

While some guy with a Spanish accent proclaimed his attraction to some bimbo who's late husband had just died of a rare and highly painful form of hangnail (I swear I wasn't paying attention…And I didn't almost cry… ) I noticed Master Splinter looking uncomfortably at the floor and wandered over to find that Thatch had left most of his large dinner on the floor –note; no more pizza for the mutant dragon.

I set to work cleaning the mess while Thatch looked guiltily out from under the coffee table. Just as I'd finished Quinn made the first noise she'd made since falling asleep.

"EAAAAAAAAAAHG!"

"GAH!"