Author's Notes: Thanks again for the reviews, guys. :) NarutoFallenAngel123, her role will be bigger come Book 2. You'll find many elements in this book that won't be expanded on until later in the series - some sooner, some later. Now, enjoy some Nia/Raph fluff.
Disclaimer: TMNT belongs to Nick/Eastman/Laird. Any Original Characters you notice (like Nia Anders) belong to me. I'm in no way making any money. Thanks.
Chapter 29 - Shell Cycle
Nia hardly had time to register a pale red object hurling towards her head. It appeared suddenly within her peripheral vision, so instincts alone guided her hands up. Squinting, she caught something smooth and hard that could only be deciphered once she dared reopened her eyes.
"W—what's this?" she questioned to an approaching figure.
"It's a helmet," Raphael responded blandly.
"I…" Nia glanced up from the hefty headgear to the mutant rounding the sofa. "What am I supposed to do with it?"
"Put it on, dummy." The hothead rolled his eyes then used the remote beside her to turn off cartoons.
"I meant why," the young woman said, soft voice strained.
"'Cuz yer goin' for a ride. Now get up." Raphael stepped forward with confidence to wrap a large hand around Nia's thin bicep. He pulled her off the couch easily then began dragging her towards the Lair's main entrance without any further explanation.
"Wait!" With a strong tug, Nia freed her arm, yet could do little to fight the blush creeping onto her face. "W—where are we going?"
"Does it matter?"
"I…I thought we had to be more careful now that your clan is on the lookout for Bishop. I—it's why I haven't asked to go Topside this week."
"We're always on the lookout for Bishop." The mutant clicked his tongue. "It's just how we got ta live our lives. But that don't mean we got ta stop livin'. The same goes for ya."
"Is it really okay?" Nia's vision drifted to the helmet in her hands.
"Do ya trust me?"
The artist stiffed. Slowly, her gaze lifted, but her head remained downcast. Raphael's amber eyes stared back at her, unflinching and cool as they awaited their answer. Nia could sense a trace of fear in them, just behind the confidence. It sent a faint pulse of electric shock through the lower part of her brain and left the human's mouth agape.
"Well?" Raphael asked, far gruffer than before.
"Ah, y—yes," answered Nia with a timid smile. "I trust you."
"Then follow me."
Immediately Raphael turned on his heel. Nia caught up with him when he paused to open the front door then followed him faithfully through two long stretches of poorly lit tunnels. When they stopped under a manhole cover, Nia watched, silent, while Raph scaled the rusted ladder like an expert. He removed the steel plate above before offering a free hand to the human. She accepted his offer—lightly blushing all the while—and made the climb without incident.
"Where are we?" Nia asked once on ground level. She refused to move further into the alleyway simply because there was no moon to give her direction.
"We ain't there just yet, Anders," Raphael answered from the hole. He sprung out like a Jack-in-the-box then placed the lid back where it belonged. "This way."
The ninja led her by the hand, towards a metallic building across the street. He kept a careful eye on what few lights did work in this part of town, though Nia could see little danger; the city block resembled a ghost town. Even so, she remained cooperative, to the point when Raphael forced her through a hidden door at the building's backside.
"Now where are we?" Inside was dark and echoed with Nia's question.
"Our garage," Raphael replied. "One sec."
In the blink of an eye, three rows of hanging lights flickered to life with a dull hum. They revealed what was to be expected of a garage, complete with an overflow of tools, tall tin walls, a sturdy roof, and a cracked slab of concrete flooring that could easily house ten busses. Remnants of colorful graffiti stained various areas, though someone had obviously tried their best at removing the marks.
"We keep it separate from the Lair for safety reasons," the hothead added, "but it's still got the same amount 'a security, even if it don't look it."
"Is this…?" Nia took two steps forward.
"One means of transportation? Yeah."
"It's beautiful…"
Smiling, the young woman closed the distance between her body and the large van before her. She pressed the helmet against her chest with one arm, which left her right hand free to run its fingertips against the vehicle's cool metal. The van held a military-like appearance, yet there were small quirks in its design that reflected the personalities of its true creators.
"Beautiful ain't the right word for it." Raphael huffed. "Try 'fierce' or 'intimidatin'. Ya know, something masculine."
"Sorry," Nia replied kindly. She drew her hand back then faced the buff mutant, who approached her from behind. "It's a work of art. Is this what we're riding in?"
Raphael's expression froze. "No," he drawled. "We don't got ta wear helmets in vans."
All blood drained from Nia's face in an instant, leaving her petrified. 'That's right,' she thought. 'He did hand me a helmet earlier, didn't he?' She'd already forgotten, even if the headgear never once left her grasp.
Raphael shook his head, although Nia spotted a smirk on his wide mouth. "If ya wanna see a work 'a art, I'll show ya a work 'a art."
Nia didn't speak again as she followed the ninja to the garage's west end. It wasn't hard for her to guess which piece of art Raphael had referred to. Between the Battle Shell and an unfinished project overtaking the west wall, a motorcycle rested. It reached no higher than the male's mid-section and had been painted a rich red all over its body. Nia knew next to nothing about motorcycles, but she got the feeling it ran loudly.
"Meet my baby"—Raphael beamed with his arms spread—"The Shell Cycle!"
"Th—this is what we're riding?"
"Beats that musty van."
"But it's a motorcycle!"
"Yeah." Raph lowered his arms and raised an eye ridge at Nia when she took a step back. "Don't tell me ya got somethin' against motorcycles."
"They're dangerous!" Nia yelped. "I—I've only ridden on one once with Daddy when I was seven. I—I remember very prominently lots of screaming and a—a hospital visit."
"Thought ya trusted me."
"I do. I just don't trust that!" The young woman pointed at the Shell Cycle like an accuser singling out his accused.
"All the more reason to get on," retorted Raphael.
Without another word, he strolled to a near-by work bench flushed against the warehouse's back wall. He retrieved two leather coats from its side—one of which he slipped onto his stocky form—before returning to his motor bike and swinging a strong leg over its leather seat. The bike sunk under his heavy weight, though Raph looked unconcerned.
He just removed a black helmet from its perch on the left handle bar then smirked at Nia, saying, "Trust me. I won't let ya get hurt."
Every inch of Nia wanted to scream in protest, yet she found her body moving on its own accord. Sighing, she accepted the coat Raphael offered her and hesitantly slipped it on. It swam over her figure once zipped, reaching her mid-thighs, so she had to roll the sleeves up to keep her hands useful. Raphael then situated her body in front of him—so she could better hear him when he spoke, he said. With helmets on, it made little sense as to how they would hear one another anyway. She let the question slide, though.
"Before we leave," Raphael said prior to placing his helmet over his head, "do ya got cash on ya?"
"Some from April," Nia answered behind her own helmet.
"More than twenty-five?"
"I think."
"Good."
"W—why do I need—"
A sudden roar silenced Nia as Raphael started the Shell Cycle. The machine vibrated violently beneath the artist, whose nails automatically sought something to grip.
"Those are my thighs ya're tryin' ta bruise!" Raph cried over his purring bike.
Even so, Nia couldn't find the nerve to release them. She hardly heard the ninja sigh before he leaned forward, pushing her as well. He must've finally put his helmet on because his hands snaked their way to hers. Sternly, they pried her fingers from his legs then repositioned them on the handle bars.
Nia began shaking her head all too late; Raphael had already opened the garage door with a remote button and sped into the night streets like a bat out of hell.
Annabelle Lombardo's features were darkened by a prominent frown. The scientist held little interest in the Mexican dinner her partner had placed on her desk space not five minutes ago. After all, how could one have an appetite with their job on the line? While she had no qualms with being discharged, it was a little too soon for her to leave the company.
She had an agenda to fulfill first.
"Find anything yet, Ann?" questioned a hoarse voice.
Annabelle kept her eyes fixed on the rows of surveillance cameras that glowed ahead of her. "No."
"Damn."
"You were only gone a few minutes, Patrick."
"But I still had hoped something good would happen."
"And that happens to us how often?"
"Not often enough." Patrick let out a sigh that sounded more like a whistle then reclaimed his assigned seat beside Annabelle. His lanky legs barely fit under the long, plastic desk they shared, which gave the presence of a middle-aged man sitting at the desk of a preschooler. "We're in deep, Ann," he rasped with a grim smile. "If we can't find him soon, it'll be our heads."
"It's not just Rizzo anymore, remember?" Annabelle questioned. "We got Kingston, but the man's cracked. Mister Anders still refuses to help, which hasn't placed us in the best position. And now?" Her dark blue eyes narrowed at the tanned man. "Now we have yet another set of targets."
"Oh, right, them." Patrick's lean body trembled in his computer seat. "Ugh, I hate those mutants."
"And I hate being on surveillance duty. I could be doing so much more if he just gave me the chance…"
"Still upset over Bishop not promoting you, eh?"
Annabelle could barely refrain from clenching her hands into fists. Patrick's grey eyes soon returned to his job, but he shook his head of short brown hair all the same.
"Every time I apply, he denies me!" the carrot-top snapped.
"Then give up."
"I can't!"
"Why not?"
"Because I won't let that man dictate what I can and cannot do." Annabelle's tone was even and dark. She glared at the brunette beside her once more then turned to a television screen that overlooked Fifth Avenue.
"Whatever floats your boat," Patrick remarked, scoffing then hacking. "Brooding over it won't help, though. It can only distract you."
"It may distract you maybe. I actually multitask well. In fact, I'm doing it right now."
"What do you mean?"
The woman stood with a sly smirk and pointed to a television two rows from the top. "There, on Fifth Avenue. I just spotted two of the three things Bishop wants most right now."
"That wasn't so bad, now was it?"
While Nia couldn't see Raphael's face, she knew without a doubt he was smirking—the amusement in his tone said so. "It was frightening," she replied softly.
"But worth it, right?"
The young woman shook her head once then folded her arms. Still, she couldn't hide the pleased smile that overcame her face.
At a hundred-and-two stories high, Nia found a sense of release, as if the Empire State Building were a physical drug. Of all the things they could've done, she never expected the mutant to lead her here. In fact, she assumed he'd take her somewhere less notable—perhaps a dense park or the rooftop of another apartment building. Yet he didn't. The male had even been gracious enough to let her buy a ticket and use the elevator to reach the top deck instead of free-climbing up the skyscraper like he'd done.
She still didn't understand how ninjas could accomplish such tasks.
"I figured ya'd like this," Raphael noted. He remained out of site, though his voice carried from behind. "Why do ya like heights so much, anyway?"
Nia inhaled a deep breath, saying, "I—I don't know. It just feels like freedom to me…"
Fearlessly, the female leaned against the waist-high concrete barrier at her hips. Her teal eyes scanned over the cityscape below from wide breaks between the crossed metal that curled to an end nearly five feet over her head. The new moon had passed three days ago and the skies were overcast, so the city was particularly bright with no competition.
"Most people find the prospect 'a possibly topplin' over a thousand feet scary," the mutant added.
"Motorcycles are scarier."
Raphael's responding chuckle traveled.
"Are you moving?" Nia asked in panic.
"Yeah."
"W—what about the surveillance cameras and lights?"
"I got 'em memorized. I know where I can sit. Take three steps ta yer right."
Nia did so promptly, her attention set on the safety fence's top. "Are you sitting up there?"
"In a dark spot."
"Is that safe?"
"Will ya relax?" The ninja huffed. "I've been doin' this stuff for years."
"Sorry." Nia's voice dropped to a whisper. "I—I'm just worried. Michelangelo's told me some things that have happened in the past, when you've been captured. I…don't want that to happen."
"I ain't gunna get caught. Now can ya just enjoy the view?"
Nia nodded, though she was unsure if Raphael was watching her or not. A reign of silence overcame the area. It was comfortable for Nia, but Raphael spoke up within a minute's time.
"Ya know," he started, "we never finished our game."
"Y—you mean Twenty Questions?" Nia's gaze drifted towards a bulky shadow perched above her head.
"It got…late. What was the tally?"
'You mean to say it got weird then April got kidnapped,' Nia thought with a bleak sigh. Racking her brain for the right answer to Raphael's question proved difficult, so she decided to make up a number instead.
"Ten to thirteen each?"
"Wrong." Raphael retorted before Nia ceased speaking. "Ya made that number up, didn't ya?"
"M—maybe."
"Thought so."
"Well do you remember?"
"Wit'out goin' inta technicalities, ya asked seven real questions an' I asked nine."
Nia felt her eye twitch. "If you already knew the answer, why ask?"
"Ta test yer memory. Ya failed, by the way."
"You mean to tell me you remember our whole conversation, down to the unintentional questions?"
"In a profession like mine, one has ta have a keen memory. It can mean the difference between life 'n death. I can forget things I don't care about most 'a the time, but if I wanna remember something then I damn well remember it."
"So…you wanted to remember our conversation?"
The figure above shifted rather suddenly on his perch. It drew Nia's attention, though she soon had to force her eyes ahead so those watching the security cameras would remain unsuspecting.
"Do ya wanna finish the game or not?" Raphael asked.
"I do," Nia replied. "But it's almost closing time. We only have around fifteen minutes left."
"Then we'll gradually finish or ask simple questions."
"Alright…"
"…Well tag."
"Y—you want me to go first?"
"Ya got two questions before ya're caught up."
"Oh, um…What's your favorite movie?"
"Goin' wit' easy, eh?"
"Are you getting technical on me?" Nia grinned shyly as Raphael laughed.
"The answer's anything wit' great action an' lots 'a high speed chases. I really like the Quick and Furious franchise."
"Hum…are there any superhero movies you like?"
"Ya want that ta be yer second question?"
"I guess."
"Steel Man." The mutant's reply was plain yet interested. "I also like oddahs like Commander America 'n Bulk. But Steel Man's definitely my favorite."
"I like that franchise too!" Nia exclaimed, unable to contain excitement. "Actually, most of Wonder Comics' most recent movie adaptions have been good."
"I just know 'em by the movies."
"I—I figured."
"My go now…Why do ya burn all the food ya cook?"
Nia sighed. "Because cooking is a science and I suck at science."
"Mikey would call it an art."
"Well, I call it a science, whose logic I don't understand."
"Please, don't ever cook for us again. I felt nauseous for days after the cookie incident."
"Sorry…"
"Don't let me eat anything like that again an' we're even. Deal?"
"Deal." The young woman smiled, yet that smile soon died under the seriousness of her next question. "So why'd you…bring me here?"
"Huh?"
"Why take me to the Empire State Building?" Nia bit her lower lip then began rubbing her arms gently. "I mean, y—y—you didn't have to. Not that I don't appreciate it; I love being up here. But, uh, a—anyone could've taken me. I—I don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me or—or because Michelangelo—"
"Believe me, neither 'a those are my reason," Raphael interjected.
Nia held her breath a moment, still rubbing her arms. "Then…what was your reason?"
"I don't know," the mutant answered in an undertone. "I just thought we could use a break. Stayin' in the Lair can be suffocatin', right? Ya tellin' me ya weren't itchin' ta go Topside?"
"I was! I just…I don't want this to be a burden for you."
"If I didn't wanna come up here wit' ya then I wouldn't have."
'Wait, he…he wants to be up here with me?' Nia felt her face burn at her thought. Her knees weaken slightly and try as she may to stop it, her heart began racing within her chest. 'Stop it, stupid body! H—he's only being considerate. Like a…friend. It's not like he confessed his undying love. Ugh, why is my stomach somersaulting?'
"Ya alright, Anders?"
"Ah, yes!" Nia squeaked, cringing. She shook her head then cleared her throat. "Um, I mean, th—thank you, Raphael. Thank you for taking me here…and for all the other times we've gone out."
"I—it's nothin'." Raphael's gruff voice sounded muffled. "We ain't doin' much, but this is kind of…an apology for Thursday. Don said ya were upset that I wasn't there."
The artist frowned. "I wanted all my friends to be present, so…I wasn't expecting you to ditch us."
"I didn't—" Raph stopped himself, sighing. "Look, after Don drew yer blood I spent a lot 'a time maulin' over the possibilities 'a the results. It drove me up the wall an' I had ta leave ta keep my cool."
"Possibilities? You mean…what will happen if I'm human or not?"
"Yeah."
"What difference does that make to you?"
Shuffling sounded—a rustle of shifting weight that sent slight vibrations through the safety fence. "Just accept my apology. I never meant ta make ya feel bad."
Nia desired to know more, but since she was aware that prying further would be in vain, she nodded. "Apology accepted."
"Cool. How much longer we got?"
"Um"—Nia checked her neon-colored wrist watch—"three minutes."
"Time for two last questions?"
"Sounds good."
"Uh," Raphael paused, "what kind 'a art job do ya hope ta have in the future?"
The young woman smiled. "In addition to painting, I—I love concept art. So it would be wonderful if I could be on a design team for movies. That's a high expectation, though. I'd also be happy to teach children art or even illustrate children's books."
"Mike wants ta illustrate kid's books. Maybe the two 'a ya could do one together some day."
"That would be fun." Nia giggled softly into her hand. "We could make it about a turtle."
"He should be an ass-whooping turtle."
"And carry sais?"
"Only if he's gunna be cool."
"I get the feeling Mikey would insist on nunchucks."
"Go with sais anyway."
"W—we'll see how it goes. Now, my last question…"
"Better hurry. Time's runnin' out."
"I know! I know!" Nia sent the hidden mutant a mock pointed stare. "Uh…oh, got it. Both Michelangelo and Donatello have mentioned your family's been under stress before meeting me. What happened recently that—"
"Wait!" Raphael said curtly.
"W—what? Why?"
"Just be quiet."
"But you were the one telling me—"
"I said, shut up!" This time the ninja whispered harshly, shifting in his spot. Nia watched his shaded form lean forward, peering below. He cursed under his breath then turned to Nia in urgency. "Get out 'a the building."
"What's wrong?"
"Just do it!" Raphael landed beside Nia silently, and the young woman didn't fight him when he pushed her towards the elevators. "I'll meet ya at my bike. Be quick."
"But—"
"Go!"
After one final push Raphael abandoned Nia at the elevator doors. The artist turned to watch him leave, but the night's intense darkness only allowed for her to sense him do so.
'What's going on? Why would he sound so distressed? Did he…did he see someone from the EPF?' Though she'd never dealt with the organization before, the name alone sent paralyzing chills down Nia's spine.
New dread tied her stomach in knots, which left her trembling hands incapable of pushing the elevator's down button. In the end she punched it with the side of her fist, and when the doors welcomed her with soft a 'ding', she dashed inside, again punching buttons.
The lights within wavered with Nia's labored breaths. Thankfully, a breathing technique taught to her by Splinter prevented the machine from short circuiting before it reached ground level. Her race from the building's posh lobby to the multi-story parking lot beside it was by no means record-breaking, and by the time she deemed it safe enough to break, she felt lightheaded.
Even so, adrenaline kept her from collapsing, so she continued her search for the Shell Cycle.
'Crap, where was it?' Nia stopped to glance behind her then to her right. 'I've seen that Subaru before. I'm going in circles! Oh, what do I do? What do I do? I don't do stressful situations!'
No sooner did Nia prepare for another jog, did a relieving roar echo throughout the lot. Smiling, she backed up in time for the Shell Cycle to stop on a dime at her Converse. She didn't require instructions to dig her helmet out of the bike's saddle bag or climb in front of Raphael's tense body—she did all that within several seconds. However, she did stop herself from grasping the handle bars when a flash of red seeping from beneath Raphael's jacket sleeve caught her wide eyes.
"You're bleeding!" she cried.
"I'll live," the mutant snapped, pushing down his helmet visor. "Now give me yer hands!"
Nia obeyed and positioned her arms below Raphael's—although the sluggish shaking of his head convinced the young woman that he wasn't completely well. She fought the urge to squeeze her eyes shut as the Shell Cycle rocketed off, tires screeching in its wake. Seconds later, they were free from the parking lot and weaving through traffic down Fifth Avenue.
Nia didn't understand why Raphael was risking the wrath of a traffic cop. She wanted to suggest he slow down; however, a hot flash of light directed at the motorbike's side killed her intent before she could voice her first syllable. It ate trough the asphalt and left a tiny billow of smoke that could be spotted in the bike's side mirror.
'Was that a plasma ray?'
More beams immediately followed like a rain of ravenous fire. Some burned flesh through the duo's jackets while others melted metal from the Shell Cycle's frame. Most, though, descended on unsuspecting civilians.
When it came time to switch roads, Nia's lungs ceased with fear. She leaned into the Shell Cycle's sharp curve simply because that was the direction Raphael leaned. There was a notable tremble to the male's hands as he straightened his bike, and soon his helmet clanked against hers before falling onto her hunched shoulder.
'I—Is he asleep?' A stone sunk in Nia's stomach as she twisted her head towards him.
He was.
Gradually, Raphael's body relaxed against the back of his passenger. His loose fingers slipped from the handle bars like a countdown, which left Nia in control of the wobbling Shell Cycle. Only, she knew nothing about driving, so her instinct to steady them immediately resulted in an askew front tire.
The motorcycle jolted frontward, bucking its riders into the hot air as if it were an angry bull. Together, Nia and Raphael rolled to a halt at a line of worn newspaper stands, and if the wind hadn't been knocked out of Nia, she would've shrieked at the searing pain that traveled from her right knee, up her arms, and over her left shoulder.
The young woman lay motionless on the asphalt until her oxygen returned several long heartbeats later. She removed her helmet as fast as she could with stiff arms then tossed it away. Rolling onto her stomach had never been such a daunting task, yet she managed it with tears flowing down her cheeks. And she barely kept her head up while her hazy eyes scanned the damaged she'd caused.
The Shell Cycle's dented frame lay lifeless against the sidewalk across the street. Its slight damage must've signified it missed any further obstacles, so Nia breathed a small sigh of relief in the knowledge that she avoided its totaling. Possibly. But her real concern involved Raphael.
Cringing, Nia heaved onto her bleeding hands and knees then sat on her feet. Her neck cracked involuntarily as she twisted behind her. To her surprise, Raphael had already begun raising from the street, though his uncoordinated movements made it painfully obvious that he felt like passing out. He stumbled towards the young woman, who steadied his large form with waiting arms when his knees gave out.
"Raphael!" she called in a hoarse voice. "A—are you…?"
"I'm…awake," Raphael slurred.
"Y—you sound like you've been drinking."
"Believe me, that man slipped me that cocktail." Raphael tried smirking, except his face barely twitched.
Nia's grip on him tightened. "You've been drugged!"
"It ain't…a first." Wiping drool from the corner of his mouth, the ninja pointed an unfocused finger at Nia's teary face. "Yer drivin'…sucks. Re—remind me ta never let ya…have the handles again."
"This isn't funny!" There was no preventing the new wave of tears and Nia's stomach tightened until it felt like a ball of lead. "I—I don't know what to do. What do I do? Who were those people? And…wait, where—where are they now?"
"Blockin' off the street. Why do ya think ya don't see anybody?"
"So we're trapped?" Nia's whisper strengthened her tears.
"No," Raphael countered, definite. He reached inside his jacket, at his hip, and produced his Shell Cell, which he then placed in Nia's shaking hand. "I'm trapped. Y—yer gunna take the exit down that alley on the other side, an'…run like hell 'til ya find my bros. I've…already alerted 'em, but Bishop's prepared. More than I thought. I…I need ya ta get ta them an' tell 'em ta wait."
"No. No, I can't just leave you!"
"Ya got ta."
"C—come with me. We can both get out."
"Nia, I can't move!" Raphael's hands found their way to Nia's shoulders, holding them sternly. "Ya can barely lift a pencil box, let alone me. They'll find us, an' then my brothers. T—that can't happen, so go…for all 'a us. They'll get me back."
The mutant's eyes burned with such confidence that it couldn't be overlooked nor ignored. Nia nodded, running a subconscious hand down Raphael's arm, and then stood. A car door slamming shut at the end of the street served as the young woman's prompt to run, which she did at a speed that would make an Olympian proud.
