Chapter Thirteen: Let it Linger

xxx

One, two…three cameras…

Two were on each end of the alley, and one was there on her fire escape. Were they in her apartment as well? Is this why she'd seemed so… at ease? As if she hadn't a care in the world? As if this were just any other day, filled with work and other mundane tasks? Because she felt safe with some cameras…?

It was those men, he decided, keeping his head down as he swept the sidewalk. Those men were making her feel safe, when he wanted her frightened. They were making her feel protected when he wanted her exposed. What right did she have not to fear him? Hadn't she seen the picture he'd left on her window? Hadn't she realized just how long he'd been watching her? How many chances he'd had to kill her?

He moved closer, trying to get a better look at her window without exposing his face. The disguise he'd thought of, posing as a maintenance person as to not look too suspicious, had been a good idea. No one questioned his light blue jeans or his upturned navy jacket. His ball cap was wide brimmed and pulled low, and it hid his face sufficiently, and the large broom he held served as good excuse as any to be in this area without causing question. And it was a good thing he'd taken the time to don it, because the cameras were such a surprise. These men, the ones who had saved her, he hadn't thought they would go through this much trouble to protect her, a woman who was essentially a stranger.

As he moved closer to her apartment, he glanced up covertly and scowled, his eyes flashing with annoyance and hatred.

New Window to her bedroom.

They had replaced her window.

Did that mean she had never even realized that he'd replaced it on his own? His window without locks, meant to send her a message that he was coming for her, that her time was limited… Had she not seen the picture or the note? Did she truly not fear him?

Raphael and Michelangelo, such odd names, such odd behavior towards a total stranger. They were giving her courage, and strength. Giving her hope.

False hope, he decided. It wasn't real, wasn't anything he needed to worry about. They were not with her all of the time, they couldn't be. It was humanly impossible to be with someone on every minute of every hour of every day. So this would have to be planned exactly, down to the last detail, in an almost obsessive compulsive manner. He could get into her head other ways. He could make her fear him again without ever showing his face. And he could wait. He had an infinite amount of patience; it was one of his strong suits. He could wait until she was alone, and then he could strike.

And the fear would be there again, like it had never been gone in the first place. Until then, there were plenty of other ways to get her attention…

Other ways to make her suffer…

xxx

The curtains billowed, and Theresa shut and locked the window firmly, still shaking from her rendezvous with Raphael.

He wasn't going to come back…

There was no way, not when she stopped and thought about his personality, that she could believe he would turn up later tonight, as he'd promised. There was no way it was this easy, no way after all that resistance he would just give in now…

Theresa cursed and snarled, full of sexual frustration, and began dressing, shutting herself in her closet so that the camera wouldn't catch a glimpse of her. She settled for simple, slipping on a faded pair of jeans and a baggy gray tee shirt that had the Green Bay Packers logo on it. Her wet hair went up into a messy bun, and make up was out of the question.

She padded barefoot out into her kitchen, smiling in spite of herself when she saw Mikey at her table, whistling the theme from Kill Bill and cracking open a beer. He looked so relaxed and… happy. It wasn't something she had seen from him often since she had met him.

"Babe," he said by way of greeting, and he nodded to her counter where Theresa saw a bento of salmon, eel and crab sushi, and a bottle of warm sake.

"You spoil me," she replied, and pulled out two brandy glasses and filled them each halfway full of sake. She handed one to Mikey, who drained his beer and took it from her. Theresa sat across from the turtle with a raised brow.

"Planning on tasting any of that?" she questioned, referring to the now empty bottle of Corona.

Michelangelo made a face at her, "This beer is for chicks. You drink girl beer," he said, sipping the sake and making a face. "And I hate sake," he added.

Theresa fought down a smile. "What do you mean girl beer? Raph had this when he came over, and he never complained."

Mikey rolled his eyes, "He was thinking it was girl beer, I bet you ten bucks."

"Whatever. Did you get the movie?"

Michelangelo grinned and reached a long arm over to the chair next to him and brandished a DVD case. "I have graced you with Unforgiven, my lady."

Theresa was happy for a moment, thinking of Clint Eastwood in all his rough cowboy glory, and then she remembered how amazingly depressing that movie was, and frowned. Depressing didn't sound like what she needed at the moment. In fact, depressing was the last thing she wanted, seeing as how she was over one hundred percent sure that Raphael wasn't coming back… But maybe she was wrong? Maybe he would surprise her?

"Uh… babe? You okay?"

Theresa jerked her head up to look at Mikey. His head was cocked to the side, and he looked slightly concerned.

"I lost you for a second… You totally spaced out…" he said softly, and his serious eyes were searching her face in a way that made it seem that if he studied it long enough he could read her thoughts.

Theresa frowned. "Huh? Oh… yeah. How about something else? Something… happy? Or funny?"

Michelangelo nodded and didn't question her for reasons, sensing that she didn't want to explain. "Anything you want babe, I never really liked Unforgiven anyway. It's fuckin' depressing. Wanna watch Kung Foo Hustle? Its funny, has lots of kick ass action, and there's, like, a little bit of romance thrown in it. I saw it in your DVD collection."

Theresa smiled at his kindness. "One of my favorites. Let's eat while we watch…"

They piled their plates with sushi and soy sauce, and Theresa refilled her glass with sake while Mikey snagged another beer. They sat close together, and when the sushi was finished Mikey hit pause to pop some popcorn, and they shared it between them.

Halfway through the movie Theresa was feeling better. She had a nice buzz going, she was with a good friend, and she was laughing as the Ax Gang tried to terrorize the residents of Pig Sty Alley. Who needed Raphael? Who needed his serious voice or his intense eyes or his talented hands?

… So maybe she wasn't okay, but she was feeling better. She couldn't, however, help but wonder what he was thinking right at that moment, wherever he was.

xxx

Raphael sighed and rested his head on his knees. An hour or so had gone by, and he was sitting on the roof of the pawn shop, across from Theresa's apartment, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Why couldn't he keep himself in check when he was around her? Why, every time he saw her, did he feel that annoying pull of lust and possessiveness? If he went back there tonight, would it quail his need for her? If he had her once, would he be satisfied? Would she then be out of his system?

Or would he want her more?

Was it better then, to not show up at all? He wanted her, God did he want her. But could it stop at that? Wasn't there a chance of his feeling something more? Women had always been a great hobby, a great pastime. But this woman… she was more than a fling or a one night stand. And knowing that, feeling the truth of it deep in his heart… if he went back tonight, it would only make it worse when it all ended. Because it always ended. What kind of future could they have together? What kind of life could they make with one another?

He remembered now, snippets of Theresa and Michelangelo's conversation from a week ago, when they had been taking her to their lair for added protection…

She had asked the young turtle, "Isn't their something that you like doing? Something you know you could do for the rest of your life?"

Michelangelo shrugged noncommittally. "I dunno… skateboarding?"

Theresa laughed. "Go figure you're the skater type. That's not what I meant though. Isn't their something… Oh I don't know, something like a job. You know, a skill that you could do for the rest of your life?"

"Skateboarding's a skill." Michelangelo complained.

Theresa shook her head, still smiling. "I'm not saying it isn't. But you know what I mean."

Michelangelo looked down at her. "I'm ninja."

Suddenly they had stopped walking, and Raphael had to catch himself from running into them.

"So… do you want to do that for the rest of your life?" Theresa asked looking up at him seriously now.

Michelangelo looked thoughtful, his eye ridges knitted. "I guess… not."

Raphael sighed at the memory. It had seemed like such a revelation then, such a ludicrous thing for Michelangelo to say. But now he thought that maybe he understood. Was this the way Mikey had felt with Jade? The need to support her? The ambition to be able to take care of her? Theresa didn't really need taken care of, she did quite well on her own… but something in him wanted to do more, wanted to be able to provide her with more. What was his skill? He was ninja, was there a way to put his lifelong "profession" into play, some way to make money off of it? A way to support himself, out of the sewer?

He felt so fucking inadequate…

His phone rang, a long piercing melody that broke the silence that surrounded him, and he scowled when he saw it was Donatello.

"Yeah?" he snapped, exhaling a long breath into the mouth piece.

"…So… I bet you're pretty excited."

Donatello's voice sounded amused, and Raphael's eyes narrowed. "Bout' what?"

"…About Theresa… not having on any underwear…"

He sounded so smug that Raphael snarled and cursed. He'd forgotten about that. Really, he'd been hoping Donny hadn't been paying attention to the monitors. It wasn't like they watched them every second of every day…

"Something you wanted?" He hissed, not in the mood for light banter.

Donny chuckled lightly. "Yeah. There was someone in the alley earlier. You get a look at him?"

Raphael thought about it.

"… The maintenance guy? No. I looked down and saw him, but I didn't think he was real important, seeing as there's a psycho on the loose," his voice dripped with sarcasm.

Donny sighed into the phone. "That's the thing. He was really careful about not looking at the cameras. I didn't catch his face once. And he didn't have a logo on his jacket or anything… it seemed at little… fishy."

Raphael's insides did a tumble. Had he really been so stupid? Had he really just shrugged off the stalker as an everyday blue collar citizen?

"Damn…. Damn, damn, damn… fuck. What the hell Don, why didn't you call me sooner?! I coulda' followed the guy."

"Hey, I didn't think anything of it either. But I got to thinking about it and I watched the tapes again and… yeah. We don't know it was him, I was just wondering if you got a good look or not."

Raphael paused. Just a maintenance guy… probably nothing more…

"Alright… anything else you wanted?"

"No that was all. I was just… just…"

Donatello trailed off, and there was quiet on the other end of the phone, a long abnormal pause, almost as if the device had gone dead.

"…Donny?"

There was another bead of silence, and Raph was getting that sinking feeling in his gut, the one he got whenever anything went wrong…

Finally Donatello's voice broke across the dead silence, hurried and brisk and a bit unsure. "Raph… someone's at Theresa's front door."

Raphael stood swiftly, looking across the alley form his position on the pawn shops roof to Theresa's second story window.

"Who?" he said, and his voice was commanding and harsh, full of deadly malice and authority.

"Two men… They're knocking…"

Raphael snarled a little, his heart racing.

"I got it handled," he said, snapping the phone shut with force and taking a hasty running leap across the roof and onto Theresa's fire escape.

And as he unlocked the window quietly, he heard voices in her living room, and had murder in his heart.

xxx

Michelangelo grinned down at Theresa as the movie credits began to scroll down.

"I love that movie," he said, his arm snaking around Theresa's shoulders to pull her close against him, careful not to make her spill any of the drink that was in her hand.

Theresa looked up at the bright eyed turtle and made a face.

"Even thought you know none of those moves are possible?" She asked, her lips twitching.

"Babe, anything is possible. You are looking at a Ninja master."

Theresa craned her head more to get a better look at him. "Really?" she asked.

Michelangelo shrugged, "Well… yeah. I mean, no, those moves aren't really possible. But, yeah, I'm a master. Not as good as Splinter but, I mean, there's always room for improvement. Nunchucks and Bushido and stealth and hand to hand and… why are you looking at me like that?"

Theresa grinned and rested her head on his shoulder, curling her feet close to her body and letting her eyes slide closed. After three half-glasses of sake, the room spun in a lazy circle, and she felt utterly relaxed.

"Ninja turtles… that's so funny," she murmured, her breathing becoming shallow.

Michelangelo looked down, gripping her shoulder and pulling her close, taking her almost empty glass of potent alcohol and sitting it on the end table next to him.

"Everything's funny when your drunk, but that's one that probably pretty amusing even when your sober," his humor sounded a bit dark and cynical, even though his tone was light.

Theresa poked him on his side. "Not drunk," she murmured. "And not funny ha-ha. Just… funny. You guys are all pretty amazing. Besides being an Evolved species of turtles, you all know Ninjitsu. And you're all good people. Your like, a great example of how all men should behave. You're amazing."

Michelangelo looked down at her honey colored hair and smiled, shaking his head just slightly.

"Your amazing Theresa," he said softly, pulling her even closer to him. When had anyone ever said a thing like that to him? When had someone said he was an amazing person, an example of how all men should behave? When had anyone said it like she had, so full of truth and simple honesty? When was the last time a human had talked to him with such openness and understanding, completely uncaring of the fact that he was not at all like all the other people in the world? She really was amazing, and his brother really needed to get it together…

There was a knocking at the door then, sharp and loud, and Theresa jerked her head up in surprise, almost hitting the top of her skull into Mikey's jaw if his reflexes hadn't been fast enough to pull away.

"What the…?" She murmured, letting her feet slid off the couch. She stood slowly, getting her balance as the room righted itself, and she held out her hands to balance herself on her first unsteady step. Michelangelo was next to her then, gripping her elbow and pulling her to him.

"What are you doing? Don't answer it!"

Theresa made a face at him. "I have a peep hole… I'll look and see who it is before I answer."

Mikey looked down at her, thinking it over, before he nodded and released her, letting her make her way to the front door. He stood behind her as she looked through the hole, ready to pull her back if anything should happen.

She stepped back and groaned, and Michelangelo pulled her away from the door promptly, dragging her a few good paces from it.

"Who is it?" He asked, whispering so his voice wouldn't carry, trying to keep his body between her and the knocking.

"Oh for God sakes! Will you cut it out? Do you really think a stalker would knock? Just… go hide, I'll get rid of them."

She shrugged away form Mikey, who resisted the urge to grab her and pull her back, his whole body rejecting the idea of hiding and leaving Theresa vulnerable. The knocking became louder and more forceful.

The blonde looked back at him and scowled. "Well… go!" She said, sliding the chain out of its place and resting her hand on the dead bolt.

"…Who is it?" Mikey asked uncertainly, taking a step backwards into her kitchen, his hands on his nunchucks.

"My idiot brother and Corbin… a friend. Now go. Hide."

He did, slipping into the kitchens large pantry closet and leaving the door cracked so he could hear the conversation, annoyed with the way events were taking place. What had happened to his date?

Theresa unlocked the dead bold and let the door swing open, revealing Corbin, who smiled at her toothily, and her brother, who shrunk back at her glare.

"Well… come in," she snapped, standing back to let them walk in and shutting the door firmly behind them once they had past her.

Corbin looked as he always did. Tall and confident, his white blonde hair hidden under a Yankees baseball cap, and his overly large tee shirt and sagging jeans un-diminishing his good looks. Her brother Tommy, however, had a look that made her scowl deepen. He was dressed similarly to Corbin, but he worn no hat, and his short brown hair was slightly disheveled. His white shirt was stained with flicks of what looked undoubtedly to be blood. His eye was black and half closed, and his lip was spilt, and he was holding his wrist as though he were in pain. He was a mess, although, if his face weren't so swollen he'd have also been good looking.

As brother and sister, they looked little alike. Contradictory hair color, facial features dissimilar, but even from where Michelangelo hid and peered at them, he could tell that they were family. There eyes even looked to be the same color, from what he could tell of the un-blackened one on Tommy's face.

"Why are you here Tommy?" Theresa asked coldly, pointedly ignoring her brother's injuries.

Tommy swallowed loudly. "Listen sis, you gotta help me. Benito… he made a deal with my gang and… Sis, they're gonna kill me."

Theresa scoffed. "Sis," she muttered in mocking disgust, and then she continued in heated anger, "So you came here?! Damnit Tommy, what the hell were you thinking? You pick a fight with a guy known to kill people for looking at him wrong, and then you come here for help?! Benito Escobar is an ex-cop. Do you understand what that means? Do you realize the things he had to do to be accepted into his gang? That man is a monster and you two just showed up at my front door."

Her voice had risen, and she turned on Corbin with fire in her eyes.

"And you!" she said, poking him in the chest. "What the hell is wrong with you?! I told you that I wanted nothing else to do with him! And what do you do? You bring him here! Corbin I swear to God if you don't get him out of this apartment right now I'm calling the cops!"

Corbin scowled and grabbed her wrist, holding it gently but firmly away from his chest where she had been poking him.

"Listen," he said bending slightly to look her in the eyes. "He's your brother. I know you hate him. I know you don't claim him. But he's still your brother, and I dunno what else ta do with the fucking idiot," Tommy flinched at his friends harsh words, but neither did Corbin nor Theresa notice or care. Corbin continued, "He pissed off Benito, joined the South Side for protection, and they're turning their back on 'em for Benito to have. He's gonna kill him Ressa. You got one brother, you really wanna see him in a casket?"

Theresa wrenched her hands from Corbin and swung a glare at her brother, who was looking pale.

"What do you think they'll do to me if they find out you're here Tommy?"

Tommy sniffed and shuddered, his breath slightly wheezing as he gripped his wrist and swayed. "Corbin said you were safe… Manny and his brother said they have rights to you… Everyone knows who your friends with Sis, they aint gonna touch you… and Corbin said you had other protection right now…"

Theresa's eyes narrowed. Not only was it disturbing to know that a gang had claimed her as property to keep her safe (Manny being the culprit), but now Corbin had also blabbed about seeing Raphael.

"Just because I have some friends who are helping me out, doesn't mean that they extend the courtesy to you Tommy. Now get out. Find a hotel to stay in, go to Mexico or Canada for all I care. Just keep your troubles off my doorstep. And don't you dare go to Mom and Dad's either!"

Tommy looked pleadingly at her, helpless and frightened, before his knees shook and buckled, and he passed out in the middle of her living room with a sickening thud.

"Damnit," she muttered, crossing her arms and looking annoyed, the buzz she had earlier from the sake gone now, and all that was left in its place being a heavy hammering in her skull.

"Jesus Theresa, why'd you have to be like that?"

Theresa shot a look at Corbin. "Me?! What about you? Bringing him here, telling him about Raphael after I told you to keep your mouth shut! What the hell happened to him?"

Corbin sighed walked to Theresa's collapsed brother. He leaned down and, ignoring her protests for him to keep him on the ground where he belonged, scooped up Tommy with a soft grunt and laid him on Theresa's couch.

"The South Siders, his worthless fucking coward gang, turned on him. He got their brand, took their name, and then when they started getting heat from Benito's gang, they turned him out. Benito's crew is a lot stronger than the South Siders… they didn't want all that trouble. They beat the shit out of Tom and then left him on the street for Benito to find… He called me from a payphone, I came and got em… and here we are."

"Here you are…" Theresa repeated softly, shaking her head and sighing.

Corbin shifted uneasily. "… Is uh… is that thing here? Raph?"

Before Theresa could open her mouth to answer a voice sounded from behind her.

"Turtle, asshole. I'm a turtle."

Theresa whirled to look at Raphael, leaned against her hallway wall, red bandana bright against his dark skin, a sai twirling between his fingers.

Corbin jumped a little, but otherwise didn't seem so startled.

Then her pantry door swung open and Michelangelo stepped out, and Corbin cussed and jumped and exclaimed, "Damnit there's two!"

Michelangelo came to stand next to Theresa, ignoring Corbin- who was still cursing, and peered at the couch in interest.

"I didn't know you had a brother," he said simply, taking her elbow and pulling her to him, maneuvering himself between her and Corbin in a way that was a completely obvious gesture of protection, even though he tried to make it seen natural.

"Want me ta take out the trash?" Raphael asked, nodding at Tommy to indicate him, his bicep flexing in tension and anger.

Theresa scowled at the turtles. "Damnit, everyone stop trying to protect me for two seconds. No, don't take out the trash. Just… just give me a minute to think."

"Hey," Michelangelo said, turning to her and giving her a boisterous smile, "You were gonna throw him out anyway, right?"

At that Corbin found his voice through his string of profanities. "Hell no she wasn't. This is her brother. What? You think she's that heartless?"

Corbin tugged at his pants and eyed Raphael, with his sai still twirling, and then Michelangelo, who was glaring at him.

Theresa grimaced, "No I wouldn't kick him out. I was just trying to… scare him… or something," She sighed heavily. "What an idiot. Come on Corbin, let's clean him up and put him in the spare."

They did, the turtles helping when asked, and soon the futon in Theresa's spare room was laid out, and Tommy was passed out on it. His wrist was wrapped (it was only sprained), his cuts cleaned, and Theresa had yanked off his heavy boots and thrown a thick blanket over him. She gave one pitying backwards glance as she stepped out of her spare room and into the hall, closing the door behind her. When she entered her small living room she saw that both Raphael and Michelangelo had taken defensive stances on opposite sides of the room, clearly keeping Corbin, who was lounging cat-like out on her sofa, from making a quick escape.

Not that he was trying to leave. The bleach blonde had picked up her remote and was surfing her channels, ignoring the two massive turtles that were glaring at him, and settling on a European soccer game.

"What are you doing?" Theresa asked him with a sigh, pushing at his feet until he moved them enough for her to have a place on the cushion at the end of the couch.

"I'm watching West Ham dominate this other team… I dunno who the other team is though… Rochester?" He narrowed his eyes, trying to determine just who the other soccer team was.

"Funny. I mean what are you doing with Tommy? Why did you bring him here? There's nothing I can do if he's really in that much trouble."

Corbin grimaced and sat up, muting the television and turning to look at her seriously.

"I don't know Ressa. Really, I don't know how your brother does it. It's like he's a magnet for trouble or somethin'. But… he's still my friend, and he's still your brother, and I can't leave him to die. Can't you… I dunno, put him in witness protection or something?"

Theresa laughed at this, but the laugh held no humor behind it. "Witness protection? What is it, exactly, that he witnessed? A crime he was committing?! Corbin, besides the fact that that's impossible, Tommy has a laundry list of warrants. Aggravated Robbery, Arson, Felonious Assault, Possession," she ticked each one off on her fingers. "The most I could do is turn him in, and he'd spend the next 15 to 20 years in prison. And you know as well as I do that Benito Escobar has a long arm that reaches into even the most secure of prisons. He'd be dead in a week. Look at Romeo! If I hadn't pulled him out of county today, he'd be dead."

Corbin groaned in frustration, knowing that what she said was true. "Damn Theresa, you're a lawyer, can't you do something about all this?"

"Like what?! I'm an attorney, not the law. I can't stop the Police from taking him into custody if they want to, and I can't just make his warrants disappear. He never showed up for any of his court dates Corbin, do you really think they care what the hell happens to him?"

There was a pregnated silence at this, and Theresa had almost forgotten that both Raphael and Michelangelo were there until the sharp ringing of a phone came from Raph's belt. He answered it with a short, "Yeah?" and his eye ridges furrowed deeply as he listened to the person on the other line.

Raphael grimaced and held out the phone to Theresa. "Its Don, he wants to talk to you."

Theresa took the device, carefully avoiding making eye contact with the turtle in red, confusion written plainly on her face. Between Donatello and Leonardo, it was a tie who talked to her the least. What could this be about then, if Donny wanted to talk to her in the middle of a family crisis he was sure to be watching back at the lair.

"Don?"

"Yeah Theresa, listen, Leo is here, and we were thinking- OW! Ok, ok! I was thinking, that maybe you could move your brother down here… You know, until you can find a way to keep him out of trouble."

Donny's voice sounded light and casual, and it immediately had Theresa protesting.

"No way Don! I couldn't do that to you guys! Not only would it be another burden that would be put on you all because of me, but… you don't know Tommy. He's trouble. Lots and lots of trouble."

At this statement Corbin's head shot over to her in interest, cocking his ear to vainly try and hear the conversation being held by Theresa and Donatello.

Donny sighed into the phone. "Theresa, we can handle trouble. We've dealt with all kinds of trouble. Trust me, its ok to bring him down here. Do it now while he's passed out and can't remember how to get here. Besides, if you don't being him to the lair, he'll be up there with you, and if he's really as much trouble as you say he is, he'll only be more harm to you."

Theresa hesitated at the truth of this. "I don't know Donny…"

"Here, Leo wants to talk to you."

There was a shuffling on the line, and then Leo's firm voice was speaking to her.

"Theresa, bring him down here. We can't have him screwing things up and putting you in more danger."

"No, really Leo, its ok. You don't have to-"

"Yes, I do. Just get him down here and we'll figure it all out."

And then the phone went dead.

Theresa scowled at the receiver, not sure weather to be angry about being bossed and ordered around by Leo, or even angrier for having him hang up the phone on her. Her eyes searched until she found a camera in the left hand corner of her living room.

"Hey Leo, learn some manners. You know, please, thank you, that kind of thing. And would it have killed you to say 'goodbye', or 'talk to you later', like a normal person?"

Corbin's eyes widened as he saw for the first time the cameras that surrounded Theresa's apartment. Theresa turned her head away from the camera to talk to Raphael, and was in the process of handing the cell phone back to him when it rang.

"Just answer it," Raphael said with a sigh, his eyes finding the same camera and glaring at it angrily.

Theresa pursed her lips, "Hello?"

"Theresa," It was Leo. "Could you please bring your brother down to the lair? I don't want you in any more danger than you already are, and it's no problem for us to keep an eye on him. My brothers and I welcome the opportunity to have something to do these days. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't fight me on this, seeing as it's for your own safety. Thank you, and I'll talk to you later."

And then the phone was dead again.

Theresa's scowl was even more pronounced at the end of this call. She snapped the phone shut, but held up a hand when Michelangelo began to ask her what he had said.

She hit redial, and when the phone was answered it was Leo's voice that said, "What, Theresa?"

She could hear Donatello in the background saying, "You guys are being ridiculous, give me the phone!"

After a silent moment Theresa finally said, "… Thanks Leo."

"… You're welcome."

She hung up the phone this time and handed it to Raphael, who was rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

"Ok," she began purposely, "we have to get a move on it. Tommy is staying with you guys for awhile."

Michelangelo jumped in the air and whooped. "Yes! A new punching bag!"

Corbin scowled, "You're just lettin' him go down there? With them? And who's this Leo and Don? More…" he searched for a word, "turtles?"

He was standing now, facing Theresa in agitation.

Theresa's eye twitched before she answered hotly, "More turtles, yes. And he'll be fine down there. He'll be protected until the heat is off him and he can go somewhere else… somewhere far, far, away. And he doesn't have to worry about responsibility or repercussions for the time being… not that he worries about any of that anyway. And he'll be safe and he'll be away from me and my parents and everyone else whose life he ruins. Ok?"

Corbin said nothing, but clenched his jaw fiercely.

"OK?" Theresa repeated, crossing her arms and looking at the blonde pointedly.

Corbin said nothing for another moment. "Fine," he finally spat out. "But I go with him."

There was a collective sigh amongst the room, and it was made in confrontation and exasperation from both of the turtles and Theresa.

Theresa glared pointedly at Corbin. "You can't go," she said firmly, and both Raphael and Michelangelo were nodding in agreement.

"Why the hell not? Blind fold me, knock me out, whatever, but I should go with him. He's gonna flip when he wakes up, you really want him down there without someone he knows?"

The truth in it made Theresa hesitate, and it was in that hesitation that Corbin made his point.

"Theresa, if he wakes up and sees a bunch of turtles, he'll start swingin'. Now I think these guys can take care of themselves, but what if he can't get a grip? What if he tries to run? He could get hurt, he could get lost… he could die. You know him. You know what he's like. He won't sit around and listen to reason. If I'm there he'll have a friend in the bunch. I'll stay as long as he does. I won't make waves, I won't cause problems… I'll be his damn babysitter."

Theresa bit her lip and looked over her shoulder at Raphael, who was glaring at Corbin with a newfound mask of loathing.

"Fine. Whatever. Let's go," he spat out, his jaw tightening when Corbin smirked.

Theresa roller her eyes and grimaced, annoyed that her brother had caused so much new drama. Michelangelo sighed as they hauled Tommy's dead weight out of the guest room and wondered what had happened to his date, and if she'd agree to go on another with him. Raphael just wanted to punch something, preferably Corbin's over confident face. Corbin laughed out loud, even as they put the blindfold over his eyes, because he knew it would irritate the one with the red bandanna… Raphael? And Tommy slept in unconscious stupor, unaware that he was being lowered swiftly into the sewer.

And at the lair Leonardo's eyes narrowed at the TV monitor, and he wondered if either of his brothers noticed the man walking past the alley, wearing a black baseball cap and looking directly at Theresa's window, as if he knew exactly what he was looking for.

xxx

Authors Note: I suck. I suck more than normal people should. I'm SO sorry this took so long to update. I only hope that this and the next chapter will make up for my shitty updating.

Forgive me? :(

Lola. You are the best EVER. This is your story, and it WILL get finished. And I'm going to close this soon. Give me 5 or so more chapters… maybe 6, and we'll be ready to move on to Mikey, who needs a good romance, the poor guy.

Candelit… where is Mia? Why isn't she making out with Leo? Lol, I guess I don't have room to talk. :(

Kelly & Royal Frog, Thanks so much for the great reviews. You guys really made my night, and I hope this chapter pleases you. :)

I love you all, and if you review you'll make my week. :)