Hello all! Hope everyone's week has been going well:)Thank you to all of my lovely readers who reviewed the last chapter, you have no idea what it means to me to hear your thoughts on my chapters. Truly I am thankful.

Also a giant thank you as always to the amazing Marie Allen. I seriously couldn't do it without her.

And now an extra long chapter for my lovely readers, hope you all enjoy!

Let the date begin!

Chapter 10

Donatello stared open-mouthed at the spot Catherine had occupied only moments before and tried to ignore his heated cheeks which denoted the almost painful blush that had spread across his face.

Catherine had given him a Cheshire Cat grin before slipping away to avoid any and all repercussions from her pronouncement and he glared at the empty spot as if its previous occupant could feel his pent-up malice.

Taking a steadying breath, he slowly turned back to Gwendolyn, who was looking at him with wide-eyed shock and embarrassment; an expression somehow endearing because it was so open, honest and real.

Unfortunately, embarrassment didn't appear to be the only emotion Gwendolyn was experiencing. After the information and display of his anger she had been witness to, her muscles were tense as if she was ready to bolt and he had no doubt that she desired nothing more than to flee from the presumed insanity of the Brownstone as fast as she could.

"I can drive you home," he offered softly, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice.

"I drove here," she replied quickly.

"Then I'll walk you to the door," he amended as she gave a slow nod, took a step forward and stopped.

"Did… Was that Karai woman really going to go all…" she made a circular gesture with her hand. "Evil Queen from Snow White on Catherine?" she questioned in a tight voice.

Donatello paused for a moment before answering, "Yes."

"That's… Wow," Gwendolyn replied as she paled.

He allowed this to sink in for a moment before he added, "Karai is an old enemy. She's now…." He didn't know what Karai was. He supposed Catherine's statement of 'not their enemy' was as good a designation as any. "Our lives have become quieter and less dangerous, but there is always the possibility that just by knowing us, you could be placed in harm's way," he warned trying not to wince at how much he sounded like Leonardo, but he had to let Gwendolyn know that no matter how slim the possibility, it still existed.

Gwendolyn nodded and took another step before she again paused. Glancing up at him she asked in a hesitant voice, "Is it okay if I stay?"

"Why?" he blurted out in surprise.

She shrugged and answered with a nervous smile, "I don't know." Her smile fell from her face as she gripped her cup of coffee tightly. "Unless you want me to go, then I can-"

"No!" Donatello practically shouted before calming himself. "I mean…only if you want to. I don't want you to feel as if you have to stay."

"Um…okay," she said as she walked back to the stool she had been sitting upon and sat back down on it.

Donatello pulled a stool out and pulled it around to the other side of the island so they could face each other.

Settling himself upon the stool, he laid his arms on the cool granite of the countertop and cupped his hands around his coffee. Enjoying the warmth that flowed into his palms, this action had the added benefit of preventing his hands from visibly shaking in nervousness.

Gwendolyn mirrored him and seemed to be studying him, something he found somewhat disconcerting, but noted that he couldn't really blame her.

He wasn't human after all and she was getting her first real look at him without the veil of deception and fantasy cloaking him.

"Can I ask you something?" she finally inquired.

Meeting her eyes for a moment before shifting them away in embarrassment he shrugged, "Sure," and braced for a barrage of uncomfortable questions.

"You and Catherine, you really aren't a thing?"

Donatello's gaze snapped back to Gwendolyn and shook his head. "She's my sister-in-law," he informed her, the familial label feeling strange as it slid across his tongue.

Gwendolyn gaped at him in shock as she leaned forward slightly as if fascinated. "Your sister-in-law?" she asked completely dumbfounded.

"Yes. She's married to my brother Raph," he explained.

"Raph? Raphael?" she asked in surprise. "The arsehole who threw you up against my trailer an' called me a leprechaun?" she asked, her accent suddenly thickening as she sat bolt upright in her stool.

"Uh…yeah," he answered, surprised the vehemence in her voice.

"Why do the jerks always-" Gwendolyn stopped talking and slapped a hand over her mouth in complete and total horror. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean… He was probably just in character, like you were…" she trailed off, her voice indicating that she didn't quite believe her own words as she tried to recover from what she apparently believed to be a huge social gaffe.

Donatello knew he should probably feel more offended than he was, but he had noticed that she seemed to have a penchant for blurting out whatever first came to mind before reviewing it to check to see if it was socially appropriate and Donatello found the honesty and unfettered innocence strangely appealing.

And in this case, he couldn't really blame her for feeling the way she did. Raphael hadn't made the best impression and even Donatello could admit that he wasn't innocent in the altercation, goading his older brother by revealing his insecurities and then stomping on them.

"He wasn't in character," he stated bluntly at her attempt to give Raphael an excuse for his behaviour. "Unless you count Raph being Raph as being 'in character.'" He informed her. "Raph can be…" he tried to diplomatically find a word to describe his red-masked brother so he wouldn't completely turn Gwendolyn against him and could only come up with, "difficult." Taking a sip of his coffee he added, "He's a little rough around the edges, but he has a good heart and he means well. He just…has trouble expressing himself," he finished truthfully.

Gwendolyn looked at him as if she didn't quite believe him and he knew there really wasn't anything he could do at this moment to convince her otherwise.

Raphael still presented the harshest, surliest, most sarcastic and bitter front to friends, family and strangers alike and it was so hard to get past the giant wall he had built up and Donatello truthfully didn't know if Raphael would ever let down his walls for anyone but Catherine.

"You'll get used to him," he assured her until he realized how that sounded. "I mean…if you aren't running away terrified after this," he amended with nervous laughter.

Gwendolyn gave a weak smile, but seemed to be studying him again. He took another sip of his coffee and tried to think of something to say into the awkward silence that followed.

"You're different than you were on Halloween," she suddenly observed.

Donatello felt his heart plummet in apprehension.

"Not that it's a bad thing," she assured him, "but…" her voice trailed off as if she wasn't quite sure what more to say.

Gathering up the broken pieces of his confidence and ego, he felt Donal's tart, scathing yet somehow charming reply settle upon his tongue. Donal would laugh at her words, but… "I'm not Donal," he said giving vocalization to his inner thoughts.

Her eyes narrowed in speculation. "That's not quite true. You were more you before you became the Lord of the Wild Hunt. Then you acted a lot darker and scarier."

Donatello thought about it. "I suppose so," he answered slowly in return.

Scooting a little closer to the counter, Gwendolyn observed, "But that's the thing. I don't really know…" she paused as if collecting her thoughts. "What was real that night and what wasn't?"

Donatello frowned. "I don't really know how to answer that," he told her truthfully. "Nothing was real."

"But you're real," she insisted. "Your brothers are real and they are your brothers because you just told me that Raph was your brother. Unless the other two…" her voice drifted off as she asked under her breath, "What were their names?"

"Leo and Mikey are my brothers as well," he supplied as she glanced up at him in embarrassment.

"You said that you were the only ones of your kind."

"We are."

Gwendolyn bit her lip and drew his attention to the plump, fullness of this particular feature.

"Wow, you guys really are faeries. Or do you do you prefer fae? I don't want to offend you."

Taking a sip of his coffee to take his mind off of wondering how soft her lips were, he nearly choked on it.

Coughing a few times, Gwendolyn looking on in concern, he waved away her worry as he shook his head back and forth. "We aren't faeries," he croaked out.

Gwendolyn looked at him in suspicious disbelief. "Aliens?" she questioned in a soft undertone.

Donatello stared at her in askance.

"I'm sorry, but you are green," she defended.

Donatello shook his head and rolled his eyes. "We're mutants," he told her without offence, knowing he couldn't really fault her for her leap in logic. If she believed in faeries, believing in aliens wasn't much of a stretch. Though to be honest, he was more likely to believe in aliens than faeries.

"Mutants?" she asked breathlessly. "Like the X-Men?"

Donatello felt his brow wrinkle in confusion. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"Like the comic books. You know, Wolverine, Storm, Cyclops? Humans who have the X-gene and evolve special powers."

Feeling a little lost he shook his head. "We were never human," he explained.

"Oh," she said, losing some of the excitement that had filled her voice. "Soooo…" her mind seemed to be chewing on this little bit of information and he didn't want to interrupt her. "Like a reverse Spiderman?"

"Spiderman?" he asked, not so much because he didn't know who Spiderman was, Mikey was a huge comic fan after all, but more because he didn't really know the details of the story.

"Guy bit by radioactive spider, gains spider powers…"

"Ah, I see where you are going with that," he said with understanding. "No. We were turtles who were turned into mutants by walking through a mutagen," he answered.

Gwendolyn processed this information as she took a sip if her latte. "So you are mutant turtles, but you don't read comics about mutants?" she asked curiously.

"I don't," he replied. "Mikey loves them, but for me, the science behind all of the 'mutations' in the comic books are ridiculously portrayed. There is no empirical basis for-" he stopped talking and coughed in embarrassment. "You like comic books, don't you?" he questioned before he made any more disparaging remarks against something she was so obviously interested in.

"We did meet at a larping event," she reminded him in a deadpan voice.

"I was doing a favour for-" he sighed. "I didn't want to be there," he told her truthfully.

Catherine had said to be himself, so there was no point in lying about what he was interested in just to impress her.

Gwendolyn frowned. "Okay, but did you enjoy it?" she asked.

He thought about the night again. "Parts of it," he admitted, giving her a shy smile as he thought about their dance together.

Roses bloomed on her cheeks as she looked around in embarrassment. "So you live here, huh?" she wondered, obviously trying to change the subject.

"No," he answered with a shake of his head. "Elizabeth and Sabrina live here."

Gwendolyn took another glance around. "Wow. The rent on this place must be-" she paused. "Uh…pretend I didn't say that."

Donatello smiled. "It's okay," he waved away her discomfiture. "Catherine owns it, so…I don't think they pay rent." He frowned in thought. "I've actually never asked."

Gwendolyn's eyes widened slightly. "Catherine owns…" her voice was a little faint. "So you and your brothers live somewhere else?" she asked.

"When Karai is the most reasonable and least threatening of your old enemies, remaining hidden is still very important."

"So like…the Batcave?" she wondered.

Donatello shrugged. "Something like that," he said in response feeling oddly morose.

Sensing that the conversation was going to lapse into another silence, he awkwardly asked, "So, you make costumes and do make-up?"

"Well…yes," she said biting her lip before continuing. "I do costume design for parties, Cons, and larping events. But I do a lot of cosplay."

"Cosplay?" he wondered knowing the term was familiar but unable to place it.

"It's where you go to certain events dressed up as you favourite video game, movie, comic book or TV character." Gwen smiled then and chuckled to herself. "I know you and your brothers aren't in the Alice graphic novel, but don't be surprised if you see a few versions of Donal, Lord of the Wild Hunt walking around during the next Con."

Eyes sparkling with excitement as if a particularly interesting thought had been lit within her brain, Gwendolyn breathed out, "You could go to a Con dressed as yourself. That'd be awesome! Like when Andrew Garfield who played Spiderman in the last Spiderman movie dressed up as Spiderman at Comic-Con. That was amazing."

He groaned at the thought. "Just don't say anything to Mikey," he gave dramatic shudder, "he'd absolutely do that and drag the rest of us along if he thought he could get away with it."

"Would that really be so terrible?" Gwendolyn asked softly.

"Yes," he answered quickly thinking about how Michelangelo would soak in the compliments of how great his costume was, when in reality, only the armour was the costume.

Gwendolyn's shoulders slumped at his words and he felt like kicking himself.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's just… If we were human it would be different, but we aren't and having someone compliment you on how realistic your costume is isn't fun when the supposed costume doesn't come off." He shook his head a little frustrated, but feeling as if he had said the wrong thing.

"No, it's okay," Gwendolyn assured him waving away his concerns. "I get it. It's like if someone were to compliment somebody else on their ugly mask except they weren't wearing a mask." Her eyes widened in horror as she paled. "Not that you're ugly!" she quickly blurted out. "Not at all! Oh gods that came out wrong. Seriously, I think you're actually really cute." She shook her head and said almost to herself, "No, not cute, guys hate being called cute. Hot, I think you're hot," she stated, her face that delightful mortified shade of red again.

Gwendolyn continued to look at him with wide eyes and groaned as she placed her forehead on the counter. "I'm so embarrassed. I think I'm going to go home now," she mumbled under her breath.

Donatello found himself blushing at her words. "I think you're very pretty," he said before he frowned in thought. "Or beautiful? Do you have a preference?"

Gwendolyn lifted her head up from the counter a red spot in the middle of her forehead from where it had been placed against the cool granite. "You think I'm beautiful? Really?" she asked in shock as if no one had ever called her beautiful before.

"Yes," he said and felt his burning blush deepen.

"Thank you," she said as she tucked a stray piece of hair that she had pulled back into a ponytail behind her ear. "No one's ever called me beautiful. Cute, yes, but beautiful…" she shook her head again and she rubbed the spot on her forehead. "I have a giant red spot right here, don't I?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Of course I do," she murmured. "Guess I'll just add it to the pile of awkward and embarrassing moments of this…uh…"

"Date?" Donatello supplied.

"Yeah. Um…but it doesn't have to be a date," she began. "Unless you want it to be," she quickly offered. "I'm sorry I haven't been on a date in like…" her voice trailed off uncomfortably.

"I've never been on a date," he admitted softly.

"Why?!" she exclaimed in surprise before realization struck. "Oh. I guess that makes sense… Not that I think you can't get a date," she assured him. "I mean-"

"I'm not human," he stated bluntly.

"Yes!" she smiled gratefully before shaking her head back and forth. "No!" He looked at her in confusion as she stared back at him in flustered bewilderment. "I don't even know what I'm saying anymore."

He smiled and felt himself relax. In a strange way, Gwendolyn being so nervous made him less so.

"It's okay," he reassured her. "I'm not human," he gave a shrug. "You don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing or trying to pretend that I'm human when I'm not."

"Oh," she said before giving him a shy smile. "Okay." She took a sip of her coffee. "It's just a little bit of a huge…"

"Learning curve?" he supplied helpfully.

"Yes! Exactly!"

"Well then we can deal with it together," he said before hastily stammering, "T-that is…if you want."

"I'd like that," she said with a pleased smile, her cheeks reddening again. Avoiding his gaze, she stared intently at her hands for a moment before looking back up at him. "So, besides pretending to be the Lord of the Wild hunt, what do you like to do for fun?"

He thought about the question. "I like tinkering mostly. I like taking things apart and making them better. I have also done extensive research into DNA profiles and studying cellular structures and anatomical evolution to better understand our mutations. And I just finished writing some code for the new-" he cut himself off when he recognized the familiar glaze that had slowly slid across Gwendolyn's eyes. "Sorry, I'm boring you," he apologized.

She sat up straighter. "No!" she assured him. "I just… I think I only understood a tiny bit of what you just said," she admitted.

Donatello felt his heart sink a little at her words. It was pretty much the story of his life. No one was interested in anything he was. Sure, Raphael was always willing to get his hands dirty if it meant fixing or modifying his motorcycle but that was about it. Michelangelo and Leonardo had no interest in anything he did unless it was a new gadget or security system he put in place.

"I get that a lot," he said with a sigh.

"That's rough," Gwendolyn said with a nod. "But if it makes you feel any better, my family doesn't get me either. They think making costumes is not only geeky, but childish bordering on useless. If I was a seamstress or even a fashion designer…" she paused in thought. "Nope, even those 'normal' things they would think were dumb. I come from a family of tradesmen so my chosen profession is too artsy. They didn't like the idea of me coming to New York. Though I think I would have gotten the same reaction if I had wanted to move anywhere really. But even though they don't like it or understand it, I know they still love me and are as supportive as they can be."

Donatello smiled. "My brothers and I are so different, but…I love them and they love me, so…I guess that's all that really matters."

Gwendolyn grinned at this understanding of family and the bonds and hardships of being part of a unit that functioned because of blood, shared geography and experience, but not much else.

They continued to talk –her more than him- and after taking another sip of his coffee, he was surprised at how cold it was, and glancing at the clock, at how late it was.

Noticing his sudden shift in attention, Gwendolyn gasped in surprise. "I didn't realize how late it is," she said, echoing his inner thought as she slid from her stool. "I've got to go."

He nodded and followed her as she walked down the hallway. "This was nice," she said as she took her coat from his hands.

"Yeah, it was," he answered shyly, not knowing what he was supposed to do.

Was he supposed to kiss her? Ask her out again? Tell her he would call her?

He glanced up the stairs, thinking he would see Catherine lurking and possibly able to tell him what he was supposed to do, but she didn't appear.

"Tell Catherine thank you for me," Gwendolyn said as she followed his line of sight.

"Thank you? For…?" he asked in confusion as he turned his focus back to the woman in front of him.

"Inviting me over so we could meet again," she said as she put on her brown suede boots that had a ruff of fur around the top and two brown fur pom-poms that dangled down.

Donatello gave a half smirk before becoming serious. "Thank you for calling me."

Gwendolyn chuckled. "I don't think I would have if I hadn't run into-" she cut off her words looking uncomfortable.

It took a moment but he pieced it together. "Catherine having coffee with Karai," he finished for her.

"Yeah," she replied awkwardly. "But I'm glad I did," she affirmed with a smile that he readily returned. "I mean, what are the chances, right?"

"Very, very slim," he replied in a monotone as a glimmer of suspicion bloomed in his mind.

"Exactly!" she beamed, ignoring his flat tone and sudden changing mood. "So however this turns out, or whatever happens, it feels like…we were supposed to meet again."

Struck by her words he shook his head in dismissal. "I don't believe in fate or destiny, and I don't believe in coincidence, especially where Catherine is concerned," he stated in a sharp voice laced with annoyance that was quickly turning to anger.

Gwendolyn's eyes widened in shock; her features registering hurt.

Mentally kicking himself for unintentionally wounding her feelings, he reached out and gently touched her shoulder. "Sorry," he apologized with a tight smile, "it's just that I accept what can be quantified, is tangible, and can be proven. And even if I didn't have this particular view of the world, if I believed in fate and destiny then I have to believe that some of the truly horrible things I have been through and seen were supposed to happen and I just… I like to think that I control my own fate and have no destiny except the one I create for myself," he finished softly.

Gwendolyn seemed to think over his words before giving a small nod of understanding. "I get that," she replied, her face no longer hurt, but serious.

Trying to lighten the mood, even though his anger still burned just under the surface, he gave a smirk and added, "And besides, you don't know Catherine."

Gwendolyn looked at him quizzically.

"Catherine never does anything without a reason," he explained his mind suddenly burning with the question of: What was Catherine doing having coffee with Karai?

"That sounds…ominous, and a little scary," she offered in a small voice distracting him from his thoughts.

"You have no idea," he stated grimly.

Gwendolyn bit her lip, as if she was contemplating something and Donatello hoped he hadn't scared her off.

Searching for something to say, he was surprised when she spoke first.

"Well, however this happened," she motioned between him and herself, "I'd like to see you again," she said with bashful hesitation.

"You would?" he questioned in surprise.

"Yeah, I would," she answered with a smile. She pulled away, his hand slipping from where it had been resting on her shoulder. "You have my number right?" He nodded. "Then call me," she told him and he stood there awkwardly as she placed her hand on the door handle.

All thoughts of Catherine were wiped from his mind as he stared at Gwendolyn wondering if he should kiss her. He wasn't sure what was expected after a first date. He knew he had already kissed her once, but that had been in the heat of the moment and he hadn't really been himself.

"Well…" she paused, almost as if she was waiting for something.

Embarrassed, confused and not knowing if he was misinterpreting social cues he blurted out, "Goodbye."

"Right," she said, her voice registering slight disappointment, "bye." She opened the door and let herself out.

He closed the door behind her and leaned his head against the cool wood, banging it a few times and repeating 'stupid' under his breath as he mentally reviewed the last few moments of his conversation before focusing in on the architect of his current strife.

Looking around the foyer before poking his head into the living room, he didn't find Catherine skulking anywhere, which surprised him.

He had half expected her to have been eavesdropping on his entire date and not finding her on the main floor, went to look for her.

After searching the whole house and finding no sign of her, he opted to peek into Elizabeth's room, the only room besides Sabrina's he had not looked into.

Opening the door, he spotted Catherine curled up on Elizabeth's bed -formerly Catherine's- sound asleep.

Frowning and not bothering to knock, he walked into the room and stood beside the bed, surprised his presence hadn't woken her.

He had intended to give her a piece of his mind, still angry with how she had manipulated events so that Gwendolyn would call him. He wasn't upset that Gwendolyn had called him and he had enjoyed her company immensely, but he was annoyed that Catherine had overstepped and so obviously meddled.

About to wake her up, he found that his anger had drained away for the moment as he was struck by how young and vulnerable Catherine looked when she was sleeping. She always gave the impression of being so mature and strong that he tended to forget that she was a good five years younger than himself, and though he wasn't sure how old Gwendolyn was, he would guess that Catherine was the younger of the two.

Concerned that Catherine was still worried about Raphael, he reached out and gently touched her shoulder, shaking her awake.

Catherine's eyes opened part-way and she gave him a lopsided smile. "Did you have a good date?" she asked in a sleepy voice.

"I guess so," he answered, distracted by thoughts of his red-masked brother.

"You guess so?" Catherine repeated as she sat up, dragging a hand through her slightly mussed hair and looking at him in confusion.

"It was good," he said dismissively. "Why are you sleeping? You seemed better. Is Raph…? Is he having nightmares?" Donatello pelted her with a flurry of questions.

Catherine quirked her lips at this. "Raphael is fine," she assured him as she threw off the covers and slid from the bed.

She took a step and closed her eyes, swaying slightly.

Reacting, Donatello grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice thick with worry.

"Just got a little dizzy, I'm okay now," she said as she stepped out of his grasp.

"Catherine-" he began but she waved away his concern.

"Honestly, Donatello, I'm fine. I just got up too fast."

"But-"

"Donatello," she warned a teasing light in her eyes, "manipulating your love-life is an exhausting and -so far- thankless task," she mused. "I don't think you quite appreciate all of the effort I have expended on your behalf."

He narrowed his eyes. "I have an idea," he growled, but refused to be distracted from the fact that Catherine had nearly keeled over. "Catherine-" began again, but Catherine interrupted.

"You didn't kiss her, did you?"

Distracted and with a blush rising to his cheeks, he blurted out, "I didn't know if I was supposed to!"

"Well, judging by the time, you two must have been getting along just fine, and if she didn't make an excuse to leave or give you a handshake at the door or try to get her ass through it as fast as she could, I would have said you were good to go."

"Thank you, I will remember that for next time," he grumbled dryly.

"Oh, so there will be a next time?" Catherine mused teasingly and he found his heart beginning to race at the thought of having to call Gwendolyn and arrange a date.

"She told me to call her," he said awkwardly.

"And are you?" Catherine prodded as she strode from the room towards the staircase and made her way down the stairs.

"I… Yes," he said, feeling uncomfortably hot as he followed her.

"When?"she asked as she opened the hallway closet and grabbed out her boots and coat.

"I don't know. It's not like I've had time to think about it," he answered feeling a little pressured and harassed.

"Well, just don't take too long," Catherine warned as she waited for him to get his boots, coat, scarf and beanie on.

"Where would I even take her? What would we even do? What if we run out of things to talk about?" he asked bombarding her with his worries.

Placing her hands on his shoulders she looked up at him, her face and voice serious as she said, "Donatello, breathe."

He took her advice and after taking a few deep breaths, nodded that he was okay.

"I would suggest a movie night. Offer to bring over a few pizzas and a movie to her place. It will be relaxed and there shouldn't be too much pressure," she suggested as she opened the door and walked out of the brownstone.

Waiting for him on the stoop, she locked the door behind him. "Or you can ask your brothers. Leonardo and Michelangelo probably have more than a few ideas for date nights," she said as they made their way down the steps and to the SUV that Catherine had given them.

Opening the doors and sliding into the driver's seat while Catherine rode in the passenger seat, he gave consideration to her suggestions as they drove home.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked Catherine's idea. He wasn't great at conversation, he knew that, and watching a movie would prevent him from having to make extensive small talk.

By the time they pulled into the lair, he felt a little better about calling Gwendolyn. He had a plan and it was one he was comfortable with. After having met her again, he felt a little more reassured about going to her apartment by himself.

Now all he had to do was decide when he should call Gwendolyn to make plans.

He wasn't sure if there was a rule he had to follow and he didn't want to give Gwendolyn an unfavourable impression of himself -he had already done enough of that and didn't want to add to it.

"When should I call her?" Donatello asked before they exited the SUV.

"Whenever you want, but if I were you, I would wait until tomorrow. It will give her a chance to process everything that happened today."

He agreed with her logic, but asked, "Is there some kind of rule?"

"No," she answered. "Unofficially I have heard of the 'three-day rule' to wait for three days so the other person doesn't think you are desperate or clingy, but I disagree with it. What is the point in playing games? If you had fun, let the other person know. And if the other person isn't interested, at least you know sooner rather than later. But if you are concerned with dating etiquette, you can ask Elizabeth."

Donatello thought about going to the older sister and blanched, "No thank you," he said as he exited the vehicle and Catherine did the same.

Catherine walked around the SUV to his side and slipped her arm through his, grinning up at him as if she was proud of him and his first foray into the dating world, her eyes dancing with joyful humour. He smiled down at her and placed his hand on hers before becoming serious.

"I don't want any of our family to know about this. If they were to find out…" he trailed off as he shuddered. He didn't want to deal with the sly looks and the suggestive remarks.

"It isn't like this kind of situation hasn't happened before," Catherine replied coaxingly.

"I know," he agreed. "But this is different."

"Is it?" she wondered.

"It's just that…" he struggled to put his feelings into words.

He remembered the merciless teasing that Leonardo had undergone and the pressure they had put upon Leonardo to make things work with Catherine.

Michelangelo's relationship with Sabrina had slid completely under the radar, and even when everyone had found out about it, his family had been too consumed with Leonardo and Catherine's drama to pay much attention to their baby brother's love life.

But with being the only single brother left, everyone's focus would be upon him and the stress placed on him to make things work would be enormous.

He was shy and introverted and though he hadn't seemed to have a problem talking with Gwendolyn, he didn't want his blossoming relationship to be placed under some kind of microscope.

If things didn't work out…

He didn't relish the looks of pity he would receive and if he let his heart be touched…

Leonardo's heartbreak had been heart-wrenching for all of them to witness and they had been helpless to alleviate his suffering in any way.

Love was a dangerous emotion to give into and no matter how much joy it could bring, it could also inflict an equal amount of devastation.

Catherine must have seen his anxiety and was somehow able to divine his inner thoughts because she gave his arm a comforting squeeze. "There is no point in worrying about things that haven't happened yet," she intoned gently as she tugged him along, walking towards the exit.

"I know," he said because logically he knew trying to calculate or quantify odds based on emotional responses would be a thankless, nearly impossible task. "But what if-"

"Donatello," she interrupted as she stopped walking, "if the possibility of happiness is within your grasp, you don't ever want to regret not reaching for it because you were afraid of taking the risk or being of hurt. Anything worth having is worth fighting for."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Raphael's voice growled menacingly as he peeled himself out of the shadows near the door.

Catherine stiffened and her hand, which was still upon Donatello's arm, tightened as he had automatically moved to leap as far away from Catherine as he could.

His heart pounded erratically in his chest and his blood rushed deafeningly through his ears as he felt frozen to the spot, staring into Raphael's livid golden-amber gaze.

"Raphael-" Catherine began but Raphael's eyes never left Donatello's as if he couldn't even bear to look at her.

Reviewing their recent conversation, Donatello felt himself pale at how their words could be misconstrued by Raphael's jealous mind.

"Congratulations, Donny. Didn't think you had it in you," Raphael snarled sarcastically. "Me? Yeah, I stole my brother's girl. But you? Never thought you'd have the balls. Guess I was wrong," he ground out, his eyes filled with betrayal and heartbreak before they shifted to murderous rage.

Donatello saw his death in his brother's gaze, and as cliché as it was, he watched his life flash before his eyes. Sadly, this brief replay was a little lonely and more than a trifle depressing.

Anger filled him as he realized that no matter what he said or how much he denied it, his brother would never believe he had no romantic intentions towards Catherine.

It was true that he loved Catherine, but he wasn't in love with her, and this was a very important distinction, but one his older brother would never accept.

"You want to go, Raph, then fine, let's go," he challenged as he tried to take a step forward, but was stopped by Catherine tugging back on his arm.

"Seriously you two?" Catherine asked in exasperation. "Don't make me find a giant hose to spray you both down with," she threatened as she let go of his arm and walked towards Raphael forcing him to finally look at her.

"Catherine," Donatello warned, the lightning pinprick of indecision riding along his skin as she approached Raphael.

He knew that Raphael wouldn't normally hurt her, but he couldn't help but feel the need to jump between the two and protect her just in case his brother was furious beyond any kind of reason.

Catherine was Raphael's lifeline -literally. She was the one who anchored him in reality, calmed his tortured soul and kept him sane. If Raphael were to either believe he was losing her, or if he ever lost her, Donatello wasn't sure what his brother would do.

Realizing this, he felt his anger drain out of him. "Raph-" he began coaxingly, hoping to calm his enraged brother.

"We were out on a date," Catherine informed Raphael.

Donatello felt his stomach sink in horror as Raphael's face paled in shock.

"I was his wingman," Catherine informed him easily. "Wingwoman?" she questioned to herself as she reached Raphael's side, either completely oblivious to the pain her words had caused or ignoring them completely. "Though there weren't any women there for me to distract," she mused as she pulled out her phone and tapped the screen a few times before shoving it in Raphael's face.

Raphael blinked a few times, seeming to have problems focusing on whatever it was that Catherine was showing him.

Catherine caught Donatello's gaze and mouthed the word 'sorry.'

Donatello frowned in confusion.

"Leprechaun girl?" Raphael asked in bewilderment.

Donatello felt heat burn his cheeks as comprehension filled him. Catherine had obviously taken a picture of him and Gwendolyn on their date.

"They must have been having a good time because they talked for a solid three hours after I left."

"You were on a date with Leprechaun girl?" Raphael asked him in surprise.

"Yes," he growled as he straightened his spine. "And stop calling her Leprechaun girl, her name is Gwen," he said in defence of the woman he had just been on a date with.

"Uh…" Raphael seemed to be having problems processing what was going on. "Okay," he agreed slowly before suddenly beaming at him. "That's great, Donny!" he effused as he strode up to him and gave him a forceful clap on his carapace. "Why the hell didn't you just say so?"

"Because your mate has been playing matchmaker behind my back, you wouldn't have believed me if I had and I didn't want anyone to know in case things don't work out," he snapped in reply.

Raphael glanced over at Catherine whose face was a mix of pleased innocence and fierce, tempered steel.

His brother's hand slid from Donatello's carapace. "I won't breathe a word, promise," he said as he continued to watch Catherine who tucked her phone in her jacket pocket, turned and strode from the garage.

Raphael winced. "Sorry, Donny," he apologized and Donatello felt himself pity Raphael in the face of what was sure to be Catherine's considerable anger.

"It's okay," he said forgivingly.

"It's just…Catherine's been… You know what, it's nothing. Congrats, Donny. I really mean that and I ain't sayin' that just 'cause I'm a jealous idiot."

Donatello felt himself relax. "Thanks," he told his brother who gave him a nod, clapped him on the carapace one final time and strode from the garage, no doubt to beg Catherine's forgiveness for accusing her of cheating on him.

Staring at his brother's retreating carapace, he pulled out his phone, searched for Gwendolyn's number and dialed it.

I hope everyone enjoyed! Go Donny!