Greetings to all of my lovely readers! Phew, this chapter was a doozy, and took me so much longer to write than I was expecting, but truthfully I wasn't expecting it to be over 30 pages long, soooo...yeah.

I just want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter, the reviews have totally been responsible for keeping this story alive for so long. And a huge thank you to all of my lovely readers for sticking with this fic to the very end! Thank you from the deepest reaches of my heart. It means so much to me!

So yes, this is the final chapter, but don't worry there will be an epilogue. :)

I hope this chapter satisfies to a certain extent all of the Leo/Liz shippers out there.

A giant thank you to my lovely Beta Marie Allen, thank you for all of your help and kinds words!

and now...please enjoy.


Chapter 50

Leonardo looked over at Elizabeth as she sat upon the couch, legs curled beneath her, a look of forlorn worry etched into her features as she stared unseeingly at the TV, the light flickering harshly across her face.

"You need to do something, Leo," Donatello insisted as he shot a glance at their sort-of houseguest.

"Why me?" he asked in shock, wondering how he was somehow responsible for helping and giving hope to the woman in the next room when she appeared to not want anything to do with him. In fact, she avoided him at all costs –which considering she had been practically living at the lair for over three months- was something to be marveled at.

"Because she is angry and upset with her sister, with Raph and with you and the only one who is actually here, is you," Donatello pointed out with a hint of frustration before turning away, as if the matter were settled; which it wasn't.

"Where are you going" Leonardo asked, noticing that his brother looked as if he was dressed to go out.

"Mikey and I are going to April's. Hopefully this will force you two to work things out."

"What am I supposed to tell her, say to her?" he wondered in frustration. "I promised her that we would find them and it's been over three months."

"I've tried, Leo! I'm still trying," Donatello defended as if Leonardo had been attacking him.

"I know," he said calmingly. "I'm not criticizing you, Donny. I know you've been trying and…thank you for that. I appreciate everything you've been doing. But you have to understand my frustration."

Donatello blew out a breath and nodded. "I've got to be honest, Leo," he began after giving Elizabeth a quick look. "After I couldn't find them the night Catherine kidnapped Raph, I thought… I continued to look, but I decided that maybe it was better if I didn't find them."

"You what?" Leonardo yelped angrily his heart clenching with hurt and worry at his brother's words.

"I know," Donatello winced. "But-"

"You placed Catherine's safety-"

"I did what I thought was best for Raph," Donatello defended.

"You know Raph's dangerous and unstable!"

"I know!" Donatello retorted, "But Catherine made her decision, and she decided that she was going to help Raph no matter the cost, and I opted to respect her wishes."

Leonardo stared at his brother as if he had never seen him before. He almost felt sick with the added worry at the knowledge that Donatello hadn't even been searching for them.

"So all this time-"

"No." Donatello cut him off. "I have been looking. I was just…not looking overly hard. I decided to give Catherine a month. One month to help Raph unencumbered by any distractions," Donatello told him firmly. "After a month I was going to look for them in earnest; though I had hoped Catherine would be in contact before then."

"Only she hasn't," Leonardo bit out through clenched teeth.

Donatello shook his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"So for all we know, she could be dead," he stated viciously, causing Donatello to glare at him.

"She's not dead," Donatello refuted.

"You don't know that for sure," Leonardo countered.

"No, I don't. But I have faith in her and in Raph, and I know that if she ever found herself in too deep, that she'd find a way to pull herself out," Donatello retorted. "If anyone can help Raph, it's Catherine. I've decided to place my trust in her and I am keeping it there. She's alive. I just…can't find them," he admitted with a huff. "I'm pretty sure that they aren't even in New York State anymore." He gave a quick shake of his head before continuing. "I have no idea where to even look. They could be anywhere. Catherine and Elizabeth moved around the country so much that there isn't even one place I could narrow it down to where Catherine would go. She has resources, money and she's smart. She isn't going to pick an obvious location."

"You once told me to follow the money, so where does the money lead?" he pressed, his anger still seething just below the surface at his brother's duplicity, but now more focused on what Donatello had actually been able to find.

"You seriously don't think that wouldn't have been my first move?" he asked, insulted at the insinuation. "Nothing has been taken from her account, her uncle's accounts, nothing." Donatello gestured with his hands. "It's as if they've dropped off the face of the earth," he stated. "Honestly, Leo, I don't think we'll find her until she or Raph wants to be found."

Leonardo dragged a hand down his face in frustration.

"I'm sorry, Leo, I really am," he said apologetically. "I honestly didn't think they would be gone this long. I mean, of course I didn't expect Raph to be better after a month, but I had thought that that we would get a message from them or something."

Blowing out a breath, Leonardo reached over and gave Donatello's shoulder a comforting squeeze, accepting his brother's apology. He knew that Donatello had only had their brother's best interests at heart, and he couldn't stay angry at his brother for that.

"I'll see if I can fix things with, Elizabeth," he offered as Donatello gave a nod, continuing his way to the garage.

Leonardo glanced towards the living room.

He wanted to mend his relationship with Elizabeth, but he honestly wasn't sure if he could. After all, he was the one who was responsible for Catherine taking such extreme measures to help Raphael because he had not allowed her to help his brother when she had offered.

In addition to this, he now knew that Donatello hadn't been as diligent in his search as he should have been, and that was knowledge he felt that Elizabeth did not need to be burdened with.

At these thoughts his mind inevitably turned to Catherine; his heart filling with hurt, and longing. Even after everything that had happened, the truth was…he missed her.

He found himself taking a step back, feeling as if he couldn't deal with Elizabeth right now. Not while his heart still had the ability to ache at the most inopportune times and for the image of the younger sister to invade his thoughts causing worry to run thickly through his veins and unable to remedy either symptom.

All he could do was hope that Catherine was able to help Raphael and that she was safe and would contact them soon.

Determinedly, he stomped down on the malicious whisper that taunted him that Catherine's actions and motives were not as altruistic as they appeared to be.

That Raphael was in love with Catherine was a certainty; a suspicion he had confirmed for himself when he had confronted his baby brother one night. Michelangelo had looked too guilty for him to doubt his brother's words when he related to him that Raphael had been in love with Catherine for a long time, probably since the beginning of their friendship with the twins. And though the longevity of the attachment surprised him initially, he found that looking back, many of Raphael's actions and words suddenly made more sense.

Of course, he hadn't been brave enough to ask Michelangelo if he knew what Catherine's feelings for Raphael were -not knowing if Michelangelo even had that information. And though he had been tempted to ask anyway, he held his tongue because he found that he didn't want to know.

Regardless of Catherine's feelings for Raphael, he found that it didn't change his feelings or the fact that he had placed her in a dangerous situation, and he wasn't in any position to help her if she needed it.

This fear ran so deeply within him, that sometimes in the middle of the night, he would dream that Catherine had been brutally slain by his brother; her blood splattered across the floor while a bestial Raphael, crimson stained sais clutched in his hands, stood over her cooling corpse.

Waking in a cold sweat, he was terrified that his dreams were reality and not just the tight, twisting worry he experienced during his waking moments that had been given form and figure within the imaginings of his unconscious mind.

But in truth, those were not the only figments that haunted him in the middle of the night. There were times when he dreamt of Raphael giving Catherine covetous glances, while he was completely unaware of the stolen kisses and caresses the two were engaging in behind his back causing him to wake with feelings of deep betrayal, anger and jealousy.

During the cold light of day, he was able to tell himself that knowing the personalities of both involved that neither would ever do such a thing to him. But he knew they had both shared at least one kiss -though it had apparently been accidental. This meant he was still unable to completely banish that niggling worm of doubt that had burrowed itself deep within his mind.

Making a decision, he spun on his heel and swiftly strode towards the kitchen; as if this movement would enable him to run away from his thoughts and problems.

But he found, as he entered the kitchen, that he could no more discard his thoughts than he could gain an inkling as to where Catherine had taken Raphael.

She might as well have been the kitsune Karai claimed her to be, managing to vanish into thin air without a trace, leaving everything and everyone behind.

Bitter hopelessness rose within him as he reviewed every story his father had ever told him about the manipulative, sly kitsune, who delighted in causing mischief, but who also deeply loved those who entered their lives and who were always betrayed by the ones who were supposed to love them.

Reaching up, he found his fingers curling around the handle of the cupboard, pulling it open as he blindly stared at the interior, acknowledging to himself that he had done exactly as all of the fools had before him. He had blindly and stubbornly ignored the warnings and strictures placed upon him by his kitsune, and in the end, she had no choice but to leave.

Letting out a huff of air through his nostrils, he focused on the tokkuri of sake that was pushed into the back of the cupboard. A moment later, with no thought at all, he pulled the tokkuri from the cupboard along with a sakazuki.

Turning, he walked to the kitchen table and sat down heavily upon the wooden seat that was his spot at the table, noticing that Raphael's seat, which was right across from his, had been unoccupied for so long, it was covered in a fine layer of dust.

Pouring some sake into the sakazuki, he lifted the shallow dish and toasted his absent brother, finding that even knowing that Raphael had vanished with the woman Leonardo loved, that he could not help but hope his brother was well.

Downing the contents in one swift gulp, he re-filled the sakazuki, knowing that alcohol was not a healthy way to deal with his thoughts and problems, but hoping that somehow, it would give him a little clarity, if only while the effects of the alcohol worked on his system.

He was on his fifth drink when Elizabeth walked past the entrance of the kitchen and stopped.

"What are you doing?" she wondered with a frown crossing her tired features.

"Getting drunk," he answered smoothly, knowing he should have given a different answer, but finding that he didn't really care. Elizabeth was actually talking to him, which was nothing short of a miracle. And feeling slightly inspired at this turn of events asked, "Want to join?"

Elizabeth shook her head and turned away, looking as if she too was ready to leave the lair, wearing the new black leather jacket she had bought to replace the one she had 'lost' but which had in reality been thrown away; the grim evidence of the bullets Catherine had taken to the chest spirited away before Elizabeth was able to learn the truth of the events of that night.

Leonardo gave a shrug of indifference. Even though he felt as if he should argue with her to stay, he only refilled his sakazuki again and tipped his head back, letting the liquid burn its way down his throat.

"Fuck it. What the hell," Elizabeth growled as she popped back into view, striding into the kitchen and pulling out the chair to his left -Michelangelo's seat- flopping down onto the wooden surface. "It's probably the best idea you've had since this whole cluster-fuck started," she grumbled as she reached out and took the tokkuri container, giving it a quick sniff; frowning at the scent.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Sake," he answered.

She gave a slow blink. "Of course it is," she murmured, swirling the container as if assessing its contents before taking a swig right from the tokkuri.

"Hey!" Leonardo protested, sitting up straighter in his seat and feeling the world tilt a little at this movement.

Unconcerned with his objection, she licked her lips in thought. "Kinda like wine…but not," she observed before taking another swig straight from the container which she offered back to him. Pulling it just out of his reach as he went to grab it from her, she said, "Enough with the dish thing. You want to get drunk, just chug it straight from the bottle," before giving it back to him.

"It's not a bottle, it's a tokkuri and this isn't a dish, it's a-"

"Leo, shut it and drink," she ordered and Leonardo found himself obeying, upending the tokkuri and taking a few chugs of the cold liquid, knowing that his father would be spinning in his grave knowing that he was treating such a fine sake in such a way. His only consolation was that he wasn't drinking it warm, the cupboard tending to keep the sake at a cooler temperature.

She reached out her hand and gestured to the tokkuri and he passed it back to her. They sat in silence for a while, passing the tokkuri back and forth until it was empty and a new one had been procured, each lost within their own thoughts, the quiet that settled between them tense and uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," Leonardo felt the words slip from his mouth before he even realized he was about to speak them.

Elizabeth let out a breath of air and sunk down in her chair, crossing her arms on the table and placing her head on her arms, hiding her face.

"Elizabeth, we will find her, and she will be okay," he soothed. "You said it yourself, no matter what situation she finds herself in, against all odds, logic or luck she somehow does the impossible."

"Leo, please shut up," Elizabeth told him, her words muffled as she spoke into her arms.

"But it's my fault," he pushed anyway, his mind feeling both muddled and oddly clear at the same time.

Elizabeth lifted her head from her arms and looked at him morosely. "I am sooo not drunk enough for this conversation." To punctuate this point, Elizabeth reached out and grabbed the tokkuri, downing a few more gulps.

"You must hate me," Leonardo murmured as he took the tokkuri back, staring at the label for a few moments, letting the thoughts that were swirling around in his head bump and collide for a while before taking a swing, waiting for her to agree with him.

"I don't hate you," she whispered miserably. "You didn't do anything wrong."

""Eizabeth-"

"It was my fault Cat ran away with Raph," Elizabeth choked out wretchedly.

"They didn't…run away," Leonardo offered soothingly. "Catherine kidnapped Raph because she wants to help him and-" his words halted when Elizabeth avoided his eyes and slid down into her chair, bringing her knees up against her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

She stared straight ahead, looking miserable a moment before her bright, tear filled gaze slid back to his own. "Elizabeth?" Leonardo prompted as she sunk further into herself.

Elizabeth bit her lip and took in a steadying breath. "She saw us," she whispered miserably and he felt his stomach sink into his gut. "She saw us standing there on the stoop the night you came to say goodbye, and she didn't say a word, other than to observe that you were leaving for good. And I always wondered if that was what set her off. That she decided to just leave because she thought that you and I…" her words trailed off as she shook her head in defeated despair. "She wanted for me to know that she loved me and that she would always make sure I was protected and happy, but then she left." Her words came out as a sob and he reached out, wanting to drag her in close and give her what little comfort he was able to, but she held up her hand, rebuffing the offer. "I blamed myself for that and I didn't want to believe what she wrote in her letter. It felt like a lie, even though I suspected and she was using Pride and Prejudice to get her point across, but… I know it's true." She took a deep breath, his concerned gaze meeting her heartbroken one, and Leonardo felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach.

"What's true?" he wondered as he felt his stomach tighten with unease.

"It's Cat. She loves him," Elizabeth whispered wretchedly as a tear escaped and slid down her cheek. "Cat loves Raph."

At her admission, Leonardo felt as if he had just been broadsided by a truck, striking him brutally in the region of his heart. He found himself staring straight ahead, his clouded mind attempting to fire on all cylinders, but not even managing to turn over.

Dragging the tokkuri across the table top, the sound like nails across a chalkboard in the painful silence that filled the room, Leonardo leaned back in his chair and brought the rim of the tokkuri to his lips before taking more than a few swallows; the liquor tasting like bitter ashes upon his tongue.

It was ridiculous that Elizabeth's words should have such an effect upon him; especially when he had been living with the suspicion sitting in the corner of his mind for months now, and yet they did.

Placing the tokkuri back on the table, and staring at it intensely, he asked, "What did her note say?" Not quite believing that he wished to hear Catherine's declaration of love for Raphael, but at the same time, not wanting to chance that it was all a misunderstanding or a conclusion that had been jumped to by an overly-upset Elizabeth.

Elizabeth swallowed before she said in a choked whisper, "She referred to Elizabeth's confession to Jane at the end of the book."

Leonardo's thoughts all tumbled in on each other as he tried to remember that particular passage, and only remembered that the tone was lighthearted and teasing, but that Elizabeth's words were resolute in her love for her suitor.

Given the weight the book seemed to factor into the lives of the two women, Leonardo had no doubt of the veracity or truth of Catherine's confession to her sister, and he could only stare straight ahead as his limbs became numb with what could only be shock.

"I know I should have said something sooner," Elizabeth began in a whoosh of words which all tumbled over each other, "but I didn't want to believe it," she admitted. "I thought maybe I was wrong and if I wasn't that she would come to her senses and realize that she'd made this huge mistake and come home. But she didn't."

Elizabeth shifted in her seat and he knew that she was looking at him, pleading with her eyes for him to understand, but he didn't look at her, he couldn't.

"I tried a million times to tell you when she didn't come back," she admitted. "But I couldn't seem to find the words. And I was terrified that you would tell Donny to stop looking for them because you would feel hurt and betrayed and…and… I'm the one who should be apologizing to you, not the other way around."

At these words Leonardo felt his eyes shift to hers; luminous orbs filled with contrition and desolate misery. "Do you really think I would place my personal feelings above the safety of your sister?" he asked, his voice sharper than he intended it to be.

Elizabeth flinched and looked away, new tears following in the damp trails of their predecessors before she looked back at him. "Of course not," she answered softly.

"Then why would you keep this from me?" he asked angrily, suddenly getting to his feet, the world swaying to the side as he tried to keep his balance while glaring down at the infuriating woman in front of him.

A spark lit her eyes as she slowly stood, bracing her hands on the table. "Because," she answered in a strangled whisper, "it was the lie I had to keep telling myself over and over again to protect myself from the truth."

"What truth?!" he asked, his voice rising in agitation. "That your sister and Raph were going around behind my back and you thought to protect me by-"

"No!" she snapped defensively. "My sister would never do that to you or to anyone."

"Then what truth?" he pressed.

"You keep saying that it's your fault. Over and over again you keep apologizing for something that… I realized that if you knew of Cat's feelings for Raph that you'd finally figure out that…it wasn't your fault." She paused as she looked at him wretchedly. "It was mine. And the thought of you hating me… I just couldn't…" her words trailed off as he looked at her in utter and complete confusion, her jumbled words not making any sense to his alcohol muddled mind.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in exasperation, his anger receding as he took in the fragile, desolate and grieving woman who stood before him.

"You kept pushing Cat away, over and over again to keep her safe, but there were moments when you two could have come together, gotten stronger, but you couldn't because I was always in the way." She made a sweeping motion with her hand.

"Elizabeth-" he began, knowing that Elizabeth had feelings for him, but knew that she had done everything to try to make things work between himself and Catherine.

"No," she interrupted sharply, dragging a hand through her curly locks which had grown nearly to her shoulders in the front. "When Stuart was threatening Cat, you should have been protecting her, not me. When it was all over and done, you should have been there with Cat, instead you were with me. I stood in your way and told you that you couldn't see her after the whole Karai thing. I watched as you had to choose between saving me or my sister from Raph and you chose me. I stood with you on the steps of the Brownstone and I stopped you from seeing Cat again and as I said goodbye, I almost kissed you and Cat saw it. And then I didn't stop you from walking away, again. You should be the one who hates me. I screwed everything up. I kept getting in the way."

Leonardo looked at the woman in front of him and felt stunned. Disbelief coursed through him, unable to believe that Elizabeth would ever have come to the erroneous conclusion that somehow everything that had happened was her fault. It was true that there had been times when he could have made different decisions, acted differently, but the reality was, he had lost Catherine because he hadn't fought for her.

Every time he should have, he either pushed her away or was too cowardly to stand and fight for her. He could have seen her when Elizabeth would not allow it, but he was too fearful to take the risk. He should have at least had the courage to say goodbye, rather than giving a message to her sister to deliver, but he hadn't.

"It's not your fault," he said with a shake of his head.

"Yes it is!" she retorted.

Three strides and he was pulling her into him, giving her the comfort he needed to give her, while taking the comfort she gave when, after a moment of trying to get away, she finally buried her face in his neck and wrapped her arms around his torso.

"It's okay to hate me," she whispered. "I know I deserve it."

"You don't," he refuted sharply causing her to look at him, her eyes watery and bright. "I don't hate you. I could never hate you." He shook his head as he took his thumb and brushed away a fresh tear that rolled down her soft, velvety cheek. "I am responsible for my own actions, Catherine for hers."

Looking up at him, her eyes held a plea, wanting to believe him, but unwilling to allow herself the luxury.

"Bullshit!" she snarled, her eyes narrowing in anger as she tried pushing away from him, which only caused him to hold onto her more tightly. "I should be happy. My sister is in love, except she's in love with your brother, and it should have been you. She was giving you pieces of her heart little by little and you dropped them and I helped you and guess who was there to pick up them up when no one was looking: Raph, in all of his fucked up, violent glory." She shook her head angrily. "You know what? Hate me. Be angry with me, do anything but don't look at me like I didn't have a hand in all of this, because I sure as hell did!"

"Maybe you did," he agreed suddenly, which gave her pause as she looked at him in surprise. "But you were only protecting her, just as I was."

"Fat lot of good that did. We were so damn busy trying to keep her heart safe that we weren't paying attention to the fact that she was up past her eyeballs in Raph's shit."

After a moment of thought he nodded in acquiescence. "Yes, she was," he admitted, bringing back all of the memories and guilt he harboured over not having realized that his brother had needed help, and being unable to give it to him.

"I just feel so…helpless," she admitted.

Reaching out towards her, he dragged her back into his arms, even though she resisted, she was no match for his strength, and finally she relented, burying her face in his neck.

He brushed his thumb across her cheek again, drying the wetness that lay there, needing to banish the helpless, hopeless culpability that this strong yet fragile woman possessed.

The lost look in her eyes nearly broke him. And no matter whose fault it was that Catherine left; his, hers, Raph's, no one's, the fact remained that Elizabeth was hurting, and it always created a weakness within him when she was vulnerable.

Both sisters were so strong and so capable, but so very different. Catherine's strength was not expressed in her demeanour, but came from within. She was much like a force of nature, unpredictable and powerful. She never gave ground, and never showed anything but determination and confidence in her actions. She never wavered from her chosen path and leaned on no one.

But Elizabeth was the opposite of her sister. She presented a tough, strong exterior to the world, much like an apparently unassailable tower. But this display was more for show, the fortress easily breached. It was so obvious that she so wanted to stand on her own, but found that she couldn't, and so she had leaned upon others, which was not a weakness, but a strength.

With her cheeks flushed and skin like the finest velvet, he found himself mesmerised by her, caught by the emotions that were rolling around in the moss green of her eyes tinged blue by the anxiousness and sadness that had taken up residence in her very heart. And he knew he was one of the reasons that this look had entered her eyes, and he needed to fix it.

"Stop it," she whispered, her voice cloaked with desperate anger.

"Stop what?" he wondered in confusion, her whiplash change in mood catching him off-guard.

"Don't look at me like that," she growled.

"I don't-" he tried to defend himself.

"You're looking at me like I deserve to be comforted because this is somehow not my fault, but it is!" she bit out angrily.

"It's not. Catherine made a choice," he stated, hurt and anger leaking into his voice.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed with an answering fury lighting her eyes. "Fuck you," she snarled.

"Why do you always have to swear so much; turn your anger into a weapon in an attempt to push me away?" he asked, tightening his hold on her, his anger turning into annoyance.

"Because it pisses you off," she retorted, trying to push away from him, but he held her to him.

"It doesn't piss me off," he shot back. "I just don't understand why you think acting like Raph is somehow helpful."

"It is helpful," she refuted, "because I'm protecting myself from doing something stupid."

"Like what?"

"Like this," she said as she pulled him down and kissed, him, her warm lips, salty with the wetness of her tears, covered his mouth and he found himself responding to the flame of lust that was suddenly ignited within him.

A moment later Elizabeth broke away and he felt suddenly bereft at the loss of contact.

Her eyes searched his, imploring him to take everything away, to make the pain and worry just stop, even if it was only a temporary reprieve, and as he leaned in and claimed her lush pink mouth with his own, he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this action was wrong. And yet, even with this thought clamouring around in the back of his mind, screaming to be heard, he found he could not seem to help himself. He felt drawn to her like an unwilling moth drawn to the biting lick of a deadly flame.

He clutched her to him, drowning his misery, his sorrow, his guilt, and his heartbreak in the soft warmth of her body and the invitation of her lips as she kissed him back, throwing her arms around his neck and molding her body to his own.

Desire flared within him and his blood suddenly felt like it was on fire. He buried his hands into her hair, kissing her with abandon, fanning the flames of his sudden lust which rose up to consume him, wiping away any and all resistance that his inner voice gave.

Her tongue unexpectedly invaded his mouth, and he could hear himself groan with need.

Suddenly, she was pushing him back, not away from her, just out of the kitchen, her hands tearing at the buttons of his shirt as he stumbled backwards.

His hands were grasping at her waist, pulling her with him as they moved, his carapace striking a wall before she clutched at his shirt, bunching it in her fists as she turned them.

There was some elegance to what they were doing, like a complex dance. Each of them took turns leading and both of them had a destination in mind, but they were otherwise occupied during the journey.

She plundered his mouth, her tongue sweeping across his own, exploring the depths as his hands roved across creamy expanses of silky warm flesh.

He knew there were going to be consequences for his actions, he understood this, but he couldn't seem to help but feed the desperate flames of the all-consuming need which had engulfed both of them. He was giving Elizabeth as much comfort as he could, while she in return gave him the reassurance and comfort that he sought.

His frantic hands divested Elizabeth of her, coat, shirt and black bra, the articles of clothing making their way to the ground as she tore the shirt from his torso, it landing in a ball next to her discarded clothing.

She pushed him and the backs of his calves struck the edge of his bed, having apparently made their way into his bedroom without him being aware of it. This push caused him to fall backwards and as he fell onto his carapace, he dragged Elizabeth down with him.

Her body covered his and he could feel the warmth of her breasts pressed against his bare plastron.

She kissed him hungrily, while he greedily returned the kiss. She broke away, shifting down his body, her fingers tearing open the button of his jeans, the zipper pulling apart as she grabbed the band of his pants, hauling them off, underwear and all.

There was a soft gasp that exited Elizabeth's lips and he looked down his naked body at where she was straddling his lower legs. And though he couldn't quite see her expression, he could tell that she was surprised.

Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he thought to himself, I'm not human, as if somewhere along the way he had forgotten this very pertinent fact. Although his form was humanoid, he wasn't human, not even close. His skin was textured and green; his hands bore only three fingers, his feet only two toes and his chest and back were covered in hard keratin. But there was a very significant part of his anatomy that was not human. As he and his brothers did not have tails, the place where their reproductive anatomy was usually stored, they ended up being a cross between a human male and a turtle. His shaft was thick and tinged a blue-purple, the tip flaring out much like a flower. And even his foggy, alcohol hazed mind was able to grasp the fact that Elizabeth was probably horrified. He shifted slightly, feeling suddenly exposed, but at that very moment, Elizabeth's small hand encircled his engorged length and he let out a groan of both pleasure and relief.

She stroked him again and he watched her through half lidded eyes, her expression sensual, and intrigued. Lowering her head, he watched as her pink tongue darted out, licking up the length of him and he shuddered, bucking slightly at the pleasure that washed through him.

Seemingly satisfied with this reaction, she again covered his body with her own and claimed his mouth with hers, pillaging its depths with her sweet tongue; the spicy scent that was inherently hers not quite drowning out the sweet musk of the desire he could smell pooling between her legs.

Nipping at her lip, he rolled her over, leaning back, his hands making quick work of the button and fly of her pants, dragging both her pants and her underwear from her body in a swift movement, tossing them away as he settled between her legs, devouring her lips with his own.

He trailed kisses down the heated flesh of her neck, her soft sighs of enjoyment causing him to lick the small buds of each hardened nipple. Her back arched up to meet his hungry mouth as he lathered attention upon each succulent globe.

Her nails raked down and across his carapace and he moaned at the shivers of pleasurable sensation that skittered across his flesh.

Shifting his weight and continuing his exploration of Elizabeth's willing mouth, his fingers trailed down her flesh, across the taunt planes of her pale stomach and lower, daring to slide down past dusky curls and into her warm, wet depths.

His finger slid into her easily, her walls slick with her desire, which only cause his own want and need to be inflamed.

Elizabeth's body again arched up to meet his, trembling beneath him as he slid his finger out, only to push it back in a moment later.

A moan of pleasure and the panting of her quick gasps caused him redouble his efforts, her entrance becoming slicker, the muscles loosening to allow his finger to slide in and out with greater ease.

The scent of her desire for him became heavier and he suddenly had the urge to taste the sweet wetness that now covered his finger.

Slipping his finger out, this action elicited a groan of protest before he slid down her body, spreading her legs wide so that he could gaze at the pink folds that were exposed to his eyes. Tentatively, he licked the center of the dewy folds, and the accompanying gasp of pleasure encouraged him to repeat the action.

Her body writhed as he continued his ministrations and he felt as if he was burning from the inside out, and the only way he would find any release from this, would be to bury himself deep within her warm, willing body.

Sliding up her body, he positioned himself at her entrance.

This movement caused her to scoot back slightly and he froze.

"Virgins don't get to be on top," Elizabeth murmured playfully. She pushed at his shoulder, unable to actually move him from his position, but he clutched her to him, rolling onto his carapace and allowing her to straddle his hips, settling just below his throbbing member.

He pulled her down for a kiss, her body sliding along his, the warmth of her wetness sliding teasingly up his hardened length before he felt himself again poised at her entrance.

With almost purposeful slowness, as if to drive him mad with desire, she moved and he felt himself enter the slick folds of her body.

Clenching his teeth, he fought with the primal beast that hungered for the woman above him. Clutching at her hips with an almost crushing force, his body burned with the need to be buried fully within her. Thankfully Elizabeth was in control, as he could feel that she wasn't purposefully taunting or teasing him, but was being cautious as her body attempted to accommodate his girth.

He gave himself over to the sensation of her walls stretching, the tightness of her sheath squeezing him deliciously, making him shudder with want as pleasure curled low in his groin, causing him to teeter upon a precipice that he was not wanting to attain yet.

He wanted to feel more; wanted to experience the entirety of the blissful act of her hips rocking in time with his own; the gratifying feel of his length slipping from her body only to plunge deep within her again.

Dampening the sensations rolling through him, he patiently waited until he was fully encased within her.

"Oh, god," she whispered, nails digging into his shoulders as she seemed to be bracing herself.

Desire turned to concern and he lifted up a hand, stroking at her cheek. "I'm hurting you?" he breathed out in a shaky voice, knowing that whatever pleasure he wanted to take, he couldn't if it meant hurting the woman whose body he was invading.

"No. Just… sorry, Blue but you are… huge, and you feel…I feel like I am completely filled," she admitted softly. "And I mean that in a really good way," she breathed out.

Before he could make any sort of reply or observation, she rocked her hips and he felt all thought completely vanish from his mind as he let out a strangle groan of ecstasy, his hips rising up to meet hers.

She suddenly grabbed at his hands which were still upon her hips, his grip tight and demanding as he moved within her.

Loosening his hold, Elizabeth moved his arms so that they rested above his head, her fingers entwined with his as she leaned down and kissed him, her hips slowing the faster rhythm he had attempted.

"I get to lead," she whispered in his ear as she shifted slightly and he felt himself clutching at her hands, tightness stretching and pulling him thin as his body teetered on the cusp of his climax.

Elizabeth rose up, letting out a cry as her movements became faster, more frantic, their bodies wet with sweat, their grunts of exertion filling the room as the slickness of her inner walls provided easier movement. Suddenly an almost unbearable tightness clamped down and squeezed him before he suddenly felt himself plunging over the edge.

His seed spilled into her as he let out a cry of release, his orgasm tearing through him in a way that left him panting for breath, his body shuddering with the aftershocks of his release.

Elizabeth's answering moan of pleasure managed to be heard over the rapidly beating sound of his heart in his head and the rushing of his blood through his ears.

A satisfied stillness and lethargy settled over him as Elizabeth gave him a gentle kiss, sliding herself from his body as she settled beside him on his small twin bed.

"V card revoked," she murmured softly. "And considering, that was one hell of a first time, Blue."

Leonardo felt himself smile, pleasant contentment and weariness flowing over him causing his eyes to slip shut as darkness settled around him and sleep claimed him.


Leonardo opened his eyes and groaned as a fierce pounding in his head nearly robbed him of breath.

It was then that several sensations struck him all at once. He wasn't sure which he noticed first, the fact that there was a warm body pressed against his own, that he and said warm body appeared to be naked, or that there was a distinctive smell that hung in the air that could only be alcohol and…sex.

Eyes flying open, he tried to gain his bearings and assess the situation, only to encounter the pale features and obsidian curls of Elizabeth's head lying upon his shoulder.

Leonardo felt his skin turn cold as he looked at the sleeping woman in his arms with horror as he attempted to remember how he had gone from sitting at the kitchen table drinking alone, to lying in his bed with Elizabeth after having obviously engaged in a bout of carnal activities.

Heart beating frantically against his ribcage as small snippets of the night's activities filtered into his agony laden brain, he attempted to sit up.

"Stop moving," Elizabeth's voice pleaded and Leonardo froze; his attempt to extricate himself without waking her failing miserably.

Suddenly Elizabeth sat up, looking over at him before she clutched at her head and winced in pain. Opening an eye she glanced at him, as if checking to see if he was real and not some imagined phantasm before she groaned, "Fuck."

Shutting her eyes tightly, Leonardo sat up, watching her warily and fighting the urge to clutch at his own head, the room spinning slightly, his stomach protesting the sudden reeling of his head and movement of his body.

"Fuckfuckfuck and double fuck!" she exclaimed as she sat up, clutching his bed sheet to her tightly.

Too many emotions were flowing and swirling through him at the moment and he didn't know what to do or say. He was horrified by his actions, having drunk himself into a stupor and taken advantage of a woman who he knew harboured feelings for him.

"I swear to god, Blue, I will deck you if you don't stop looking at me like you are some kind of monster who seduced me," she snarled. "Knowing me, I was probably the one who seduced you, so just…" her voice caught and her false, angry bravado wavered for a moment, showing her distress before she reasserted herself and gave him a steely glare. "This never happened," she proclaimed as her eyes refused to meet his, her gaze falling upon their clothes which were balled up on the floor. "It was a huge drunken mistake, nothing's changed. You love my sister and I…I was here."

"That's not-" he began to protest, sickness filling his stomach that had nothing to do with the quantity of alcohol he had consumed last night and more to do with the fact that he felt as if he had used her, and that she wasn't disagreeing with him.

"I didn't mean it like that," she interrupted. "We are both hurting and worried and a mess and I just want to forget this ever-"

"Leo!" Michelangelo's frantic voice shouted from outside his door, snapping their attentions to the rectangle of wood. "Sabey called and said that Elizabeth never made it to Sabey's apartment or the Brownstone last night!" The handle of Leonardo's door turned and to his horror, the door opened, his brother's words continued, "And there were like, two sake containers drained dry on the table and… Elizabeth?" he gasped.

Leonardo closed his eyes as a moment of incredibly awkward, horror-stricken and embarrassed silence suffused the room, his brain screaming at him to say or do something, but there was nothing to say or do. Opening his eyes, he watched as Michelangelo's eyes grew large, the evidence of the course of events of the night laid out before him.

Without another word, Michelangelo stepped back and out of the room, shutting the door firmly closed.

"Oh, god," Elizabeth whispered as she dragged her hands down her face before she commanded, "Look away."

Not about to argue the absurdity of her order, considering he had seen her completely naked last night as well as on the first night they had met, he understood, as he himself was not feeling at all comfortable to exposing himself either.

He turned his head away, feeling the shift in his bed as her weight was suddenly removed from the mattress' surface.

"I need to find Mikey before he blabs to either Donny or Sabrina. I get to be the one who decides whether my friends know of my stupidity, not him," she bit out, managing to get dressed in what had to have been record time as the door opened and slammed shut to punctuate her words.

Slowly lowering himself back onto his bed, he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to find his footing and grasp onto one coherent thought or feeling from the mass of churning emotions and thoughts that tumbled around in his mind.

He knew he felt guilty, confused and oddly out of sorts, though whether this last feeling was from the loss of Elizabeth's presence or the suddenly complicated situation he found himself in, he wasn't sure.

His first sexual encounter had been exhilarating, sensual, and freeing, and the pleasure he had experienced had been earth-shattering. Everything about it had been wonderful, except that it had happened during a drunken bout of emotional turmoil which had caused him to take advantage of a woman he knew had feelings for him and who was the sister of the woman he was in love with; a woman who was apparently in love with his brother.

He'd like to think that his actions hadn't been born of a need for some kind of spiteful revenge against Catherine, but he felt that after last night, he didn't know himself at all.

Sitting up, he swore off saki or any kind of alcohol for the rest of his life. After waiting a moment to make sure his stomach didn't try to crawl out of his esophagus and for the nail that was currently being hammered into his skull to abate slightly, he got dressed as quickly as he was able, determined to stop Elizabeth before she left the lair.

He knew he needed to stop her because he couldn't let things fester between them otherwise they would then fall completely apart. The thought of losing her tugged at his heart and he needed to fix things as best as he was able.

Striding to his door, he flung it open, moving down the hall, prepared to vault over the railing and easily land on the lower level, but changed his mind as he found himself stumbling and unsteady upon his feet.

Making his way down the stairs, he continued his pursuit.

Rounding the corner he nearly collided with Michelangelo. Feeling a heated blush rise up in his cheeks he dodged his brother and continued towards the garage until his brother's words halted him.

"She's gone," Michelangelo informed him, his voice oddly neutral.

Gritting his teeth, Leonardo slowly turned to his youngest sibling, his face feeling as if it was both on fire and icy cold at the same time.

"I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to beat the crap out of you," Michelangelo observed in a monotone voice that was oddly threatening, his face drawn into disapproving, serious lines. With this pronouncement, Michelangelo turned on his heel and started down the hallway.

"Mikey," he hissed, running to catch up with his brother.

Michelangelo ignored him and continued to walk in the direction of Donatello's lab.

Leaping forward, he grabbed his brother's shoulder and pushed, propelling him forward and in the direction of the stairs to the upper level.

Digging in his heels, Michelangelo yelped at the sudden manhandling, but Leonardo ignored his brother stating, "We need to talk."

"No we don't," Michelangelo protested even as Leonardo pushed him up two steps. "Elizabeth said I wasn't supposed to talk about what I saw to anyone, and if I did, she said she'd end me. And you know what? I kinda think she'd do it. And besides, I don't wanna know. I don't want to have to kick my big brother's ass."

"Just get upstairs," he ordered, pushing his reluctant brother up to the second level and down the hall. About to push him into his bedroom, Michelangelo grabbed the door frame and shook his head.

"Uh-uh," he stated resolutely. "I ain't goin' in there. Besides the smell, I have an image stuck in my head that I'm never going to be able to get out."

Hauling his brother from the doorway of his room, he pushed him down the hall, ducking into the next room. Shoving Michelangelo inside, he closed the door behind him and leaned against it, partially to keep his brother from escaping, but mostly because it was keeping him upright.

Closing his eyes for a moment, his throbbing head protesting every single movement and thought, he opened his eyes and eyed his brother warily. Michelangelo wasn't looking at him, but was instead looking at everything but. That was when he noticed that he had herded them both into Raphael's room.

Guilt, betrayal, worry and heartbreak all rose within him and he took a moment to shove down all of the emotions he felt concerning his red-masked brother, because for once it wasn't about Raphael. It was about his own actions towards Elizabeth, who was his friend. At least, she had been. After last night's events, that relationship was now in serious jeopardy.

He was almost tempted to take Michelangelo up on his offer to 'kick his ass,' because he deserved it.

He knew he should explain what happened, but somehow, that only seemed like an excuse; a way to mitigate and justify his actions to his brother, which felt wrong. He didn't want to make excuses, he just wanted advice on how to make things right with Elizabeth.

"What do I do?" he asked softly giving voice to thought.

Michelangelo gave a quick glance his way, his face sombre and filled with disapproval which quickly turned to concern.

"Are you okay? You look like you're about to puke," Michelangelo observed.

"I might," he admitted truthfully.

Letting out a huff of breath, Michelangelo's features softened as he spun in a circle, finding Raphael's trash can and shoving it into his shaking hands. Michelangelo then led Leonardo to Raphael's bed and got him to sit down.

Sinking gratefully onto the mattress, Leonardo clutched the trash can to his plastron and stared inside of it morosely.

"Dude, you seriously need to hydrate. And I am totally callin' it. You are banned from drinking for life. This is like, the second time you've drank yourself into a drunken stupor where you don't remember the night before," Michelangelo said as he leaned against Raphael's desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Already ahead of you," he mumbled as he hunched his shoulders forward and shot a glance at his brother's face, dully realizing that it was strange to be getting lectured by Michelangelo on his behaviour. Not that his brother wasn't right, but still… "But I do remember…most of it," he admitted candidly.

"You were supposed to make things better between you two, not burn every single bridge there was and nuke everything just for good measure."

Leonardo winced at Michelangelo words, but could not deny the validity of them. "I didn't mean to," he murmured. "Things were going really well," he explained.

"Apparently too well," Michelangelo added causing Leonardo to shoot his brother a quelling glance.

"She was actually talking with me," he continued. "We were commiserating, enjoying the moment, and then we were bickering and then…one thing led to another and we woke up, and she wouldn't let me say anything. She just said how much of a mistake last night was and that we were going to pretend it never happened, and that's when you barged in."

"Yeah, I'll remember to always knock from now on," Michelangelo inserted glibly and Leonardo glared. "Sorry," Michelangelo said, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "I just…" Michelangelo's face returned to more serious lines. "If Elizabeth hadn't stormed off, what would you have said?"

Leonardo took a breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know," he admitted truthfully.

"How about how you feel?" Michelangelo prompted.

"Feel about what? The night?" he wondered in confusion.

"About her," Michelangelo insisted with a growl.

He was quiet for a moment. "I don't know how I feel about her," he confessed.

Michelangelo studied him intently, as if waiting for Leonardo to add more, which prompted him to explain, lest his brother think even less of him than he already did. "What I mean is… She and I haven't ever had the…smoothest relationship, but I like her and…there has always been a kind of…" he struggled to find the right word.

"Tension?" Michelangelo asked.

He shrugged at the word, accepting that it was an apt description. "She was always flirtatious and teasing, but I had never thought she was serious. But I suppose there was part of me that was aware that there was the possibility that there could be more between us. I later learned that she… She told me that she was in love with me, but I swear I never acted on whatever was between us," he insisted. "And I never took advantage of the feelings she has for me. At least…up until last night," he admitted. "She kissed me and then… I kissed her back and…we didn't stop there." Michelangelo didn't make any comment or judgement, only listening as Leonardo tried to express his jumbled thoughts and feelings and explain what had happened.

"And I don't know why I let things go as far as they did," he said softly, his gaze avoiding his brother's and flicking around Raphael's room.

Stripped of most of Raphael's clothing, and a few important possessions, it seemed bare, even though WWE and movie posters still decorated the walls, and a good many of Raphael's things were still strewn about upon the ground and the desk that Michelangelo continued to lean against. And he realized that it felt empty because Raphael was gone; spirited away by the woman who loved him.

Leonardo felt his heart begin to pound in his chest, and that much tormented organ began to ache.

Realizing that Michelangelo was still waiting for him to continue speaking, he wet his dry lips and turned his mind back to the matter at hand."I just…" But he couldn't. "I… When was it?" he asked in a heartbroken tone. The question directed more to himself than his brother. "When did Catherine fall in love with Raph?" he wondered, his voice laced with soft desperation.

Michelangelo stilled and his eyes widened in shock.

"Elizabeth told me that Catherine loves Raph and I… I don't know when it was; that moment when I suddenly lost her. I tried to keep her safe. I know I pushed her away, over and over again, but… How did I push her straight into Raph's arms? And Raph… Every time I think of him, all I can feel is this…deep stab of betrayal. And I don't know if I will ever be able to forgive him." He looked at Michelangelo in the eyes. "But I still need to know that he's okay, that she's okay," he explained. "And I know I feel something for Elizabeth, but I don't know what it is." His eyes were pleading for his baby brother to understand that he was experiencing so much conflicting emotional turmoil at the moment, that he could actually feel himself unravelling.

Michelangelo was quiet for a few moments before he answered. "We can't choose who we love," he offered softly.

"I know that, Mikey, but-"

"Leo," Michelangelo interrupted. "You need to let Cat go," he stated.

Shocked by this profession, he asked incredulously, "So you think we should stop looking for her and hope that Raph hasn't killed her yet?"

"No! You know that isn't what I meant. I want to know both of them are safe as much as you do. But Cat isn't here, El is, and she needs you. She's needed you from the beginning, but you were blaming yourself and you knew she was mad at you-"

"She wasn't," he interjected halting his brother's words. "She was never angry with me. She was avoiding me because she felt guilty about knowing about Catherine's feelings for Raph, and she thinks that somehow she is responsible for me and Catherine falling apart."

"Is she?" Michelangelo asked quietly.

About to answer 'no' he took the time to actually think about his brother's question. "In a way," he admitted truthfully.

"In what way?" Michelangelo prompted.

Leonardo closed his eyes, his brain throbbing painfully as he contemplated his answer. There were the obvious ones -ones Elizabeth had pointed out herself- but… "I chose Elizabeth over Catherine; over and over again," he confessed.

Michelangelo seemed to digest his words while Leonardo turned them over in his head, examining them and finding them to be true.

"Maybe Catherine wanted someone who would choose her," Michelangelo commented softly.

Opening his eyes at his brother's words, he knew that it was much more complicated than he was making it out to be and that Michelangelo wasn't aware of the whole story or the circumstances surrounding each and every time he chose to save, comfort or ask advice from the older sister as opposed to the younger one.

Michelangelo walked over to the bed and sat down beside him. "I'm not going to pretend I'm an expert on relationships or love," Michelangelo began softly, "But I know they are complicated, and you and Cat, your relationship was…a mess," he stated bluntly and Leonardo looked at him, stung by his words. Realizing this, Michelangelo hasted to add, "What I'm trying to say is… I think you loved Cat, I think you still do, but… It isn't wrong for you to move on even though things were never really settled between the two of you."

"I can't just-"

"I'm not saying to stop looking for her or caring for her," Michelangelo interrupted. "All I'm saying, is that you have to be honest with El, and fix things with her. You don't have to promise her anything or even ask her out on a date, but maybe just keep yourself open to the possibility that the something you always felt with her is actually something," Michelangelo insisted gently, his hand punctuating his words by giving Leonardo's shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Leonardo let out a puff of air and nodded.

"But later. Drink some water and go have a nap," Michelangelo insisted.

Putting down the trash can, he rose unsteadily to his feet. "I need some fresh air," he stated, ignoring his youngest brother's advice.

Michelangelo looked as if he was about to protest, but held his tongue.

Leonardo walked from the room, leaving his brother to sit there a moment before following.

If he was being truthful with himself, he wanted nothing more than to sit in the dojo and meditate; clear his mind and be free of the turmoil he felt and the images of Elizabeth that resided there, but he couldn't. If he stayed sedentary, his mind would wander and focus upon the feel of her body against his own; the pleasure that had built between them as he moved inside her, and this would haunt him; in more ways than one.

Her scent still clung to his skin and teased his senses; a flash of desire shooting through him and he tried to quell the physical reaction he felt stirring within him.

It was tempting to have a cold shower to douse his heated blood and rid his body of her tempting scent, but it would give him the ability to think more. He needed fresh air to fill his lungs as he blindly ran across the rooftops and felt the burn of his muscles as he easily ate up the distance of the concrete jungle that was sprawled out before him.

Unfortunately, he found this feat to be beyond his physical capabilities when he reached street-level, and opted to walk instead. He stuck to the shadows and meandered around the city, downing the bottle of water he had brought with him from the lair. By the time night fell, he felt better physically, but his thoughts and emotions, those two very intangible problems he had sought to avoid -having no choice but to confront them- were still in turmoil.

Brushing his fingers across the leaves of a hedge, he stopped as his finger struck something sharper than leaves. Looking over, he realized that the hedge had been left behind and now there was tangle of rose bushes acting as a barrier to the well appointed row of Brownstones.

A thorn had brushed his finger, not drawing blood, but it had pricked him enough to catch his attention. Staring at the bright red bloom, he remembered how Karai had called Elizabeth the 'Thorny Rose,' an apt description of Elizabeth's personality. Unsheathing his sword, he sliced through the stem of a rose, plucking it from the air before it fell to the ground. Sheathing his sword, he stared at the rose a moment, studying the intricate folds of the soft petals and the bright colour of red.

Looking to his left, he realized that he was standing across the street from the Brownstone.

Not any closer to sorting anything out, he knew it was no accident that he was now just outside of the Brownstone.

Making his way to the upper level, he easily picked the lock of Catherine's old bedroom window; a window that had always been left open for him.

Ignoring his heartbreak, he slipped inside and closed the window behind him. His eyes scanned the room and he startled when the bathroom door suddenly swung open, light flooding into the darkened room, and Elizabeth emerged wearing an oversized t-shirt and not much else.

She froze as she looked at him in askance, "Are you kidding me?" she exclaimed hotly.

"Elizabeth?" he wondered stupidly, not expecting to run into Elizabeth in her sister's room. "What are you doing here?"

She glared at him angrily. "Me?!" she asked incredulously, "I live here!"

"You do?" he asked in surprise. As far as he knew, Elizabeth spent most nights at Sabrinia's if she wasn't crashing on the couch at the lair.

"Yes. I. Do," she growled defensively. "What are you doing breaking into my sister's old room?"

"I-I... Habit?" he stuttered softly.

"Get. Out," she stated furiously.

Leonardo swallowed and stilled his rapidly beating heart. "No," he refused, leaning his carapace against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest in stubborn refusal.

This movement seemed to catch her attention for some reason and her eyes centered in on his chest. Looking down he realized he still had the rose he had cut from its stem a few moments earlier still clutched in his hand.

"A rose?" she asked disbelievingly. "Seriously? No. Leo-"

"It reminded me of you," he interrupted, because it was the truth and he didn't want to have to explain or bring up Karai.

Elizabeth opened her mouth, snapped it shut and tried again. "Just…don't. I don't want to talk about it. I'm pretending nothing happened. So if you don't mind, I'd like to go to sleep." She gestured towards the bed. He pushed away from the wall and she strode towards the bed, ignoring him. "Don't let the window hit your tail on the way out," she quipped tartly, dismissing him.

"I don't have a tail, remember?" he said, his voice dropping, reminding her that she had laid him bare to her eyes. "And I don't want to pretend like nothing happened," he stated, his voice growing firmer.

Elizabeth looked at him over her shoulder, her expression going from suspicious and surprised to stubborn and angry. "Do whatever you want. I'm not talking-"

"Yes we are," he interrupted forcefully, not knowing why he was suddenly angry, but he was.

Elizabeth spun on her heel, her fury rolling off of her in waves. "Just because we slept together doesn't mean th-that there's anything between us."

"Yes it does," he replied, gentling his voice because he had caught the stammer of her words, and knew that her defenses were weakening. Carefully walking towards the bed, Elizabeth's gaze followed him warily, her expression filled with too many conflicting emotions for him to discern her thoughts, but knowing they were as chaotic as his own.

Partially sitting down upon the nightstand that sat beside the bed, he glanced down at the rose in his hand and gave the bloom a twirl before he gazed back up at her.

"There has always been something between us," he offered truthfully.

Elizabeth took a few steps away from him, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. "Fine, you want to go there? Then sure, there has. And you know what? Last night was pretty damn good, but you are my sister's ex-boyfriend! That never should have happened!"

"Your sister ran away with my brother," he pointed out softly, knowing the words weren't intended to come out as bitter and biting as they had, but he couldn't help it. The actions of both Catherine and Raphael hurt deeply.

"Technically, she kidnapped him," she corrected.

"He stayed with her," he shot back.

"Fine, whatever. Point is, it was hella wrong of her, but you broke up with her, for like, what? The third time?" Leonardo flinched at the truth of her words, but she wasn't finished yet. "And this is really going to hurt you to hear this, but if Raph wasn't such a fucked up mess, I would have said good on her, even though it hurt you. I wouldn't care that she and Raph broke brother code and ex-code and whatever other codes they broke because Catherine finally fell in love with someone. But he is so I can't," she stated firmly, her words indeed stinging him with their razor's edge. "So whatever is between us, I don't want anything to do with because you are still in love with my sister and I don't want us to be a fling, a one night stand, a tool for revenge, and I sure as hell am not going to be my sister's replacement."

"You are none of those things!" he refuted hotly. "And I don't think of you as your sister's replacement," he countered, his voice containing a sharpness which silenced whatever Elizabeth's retort was going to be. "I love your sister," he admitted looking back down at the rose in his hand before glancing back up at her, "I'm not saying that I don't. But if I am so in love with her, why can't I stop thinking about you?" he asked. "And why did I always go to you to be my confidant? Why did I never go to her?"

Elizabeth let out a puff of breath that seemed to indicate defeat of some sort, her tense muscles loosening. "Because I'm here right now, and she isn't. And you came to me because I am your friend, and you were always asking my advice because you kept messing up with my sister."

"You are my friend, but April is my friend as well, and I have gone to her for advice before. But for some reason, I always ended up going to you."

"I'm Cat's sister, of course you came to me. I know Cat better."

"That's not it," he made an angry slicing motion with his hand. "I know I've always been drawn to you, that I have feelings for you deeper than friendship-"

"It's called lust," Elizabeth interrupted.

"It isn't lust," he shot back, getting frustrated with both Elizabeth's defensiveness and his own inability to get into words what he was unable to completely make sense of.

He wasn't sure what he wanted from her and he didn't know where this conversation was going or even where he wanted it to go. It felt as if he was trying to find a destination without a map or a compass of any kind and it was inflaming his temper.

"No?" she asked with a challenge in her eyes. "I am completely naked beneath this shirt, and if I ever so slowly pulled it off, beckoning for you to join me in that bed, you'd follow," she purred with husky confidence.

The image she suddenly created with her words suddenly brought to mind the events of the previous night, and he admitted that he felt himself stirring at the thought; the crotch of his jeans suddenly becoming overly tight.

Angrily he stood, dropping the rose to the ground he stalked up to Elizabeth, who stumbled back in surprise. He grabbed her upper arms and pushed her back causing her to fall onto the mattress just behind her.

Body tented above hers, his hands still gripping her upper shoulders, he glared down at her. "Don't act like the only reason I was with you was because I wanted to fulfil some base need, and that I would do so again because you are convenient. Don't ever sell yourself short like that. You are smart, talented, beautiful, and have a spark of defiance and a thirst for living life to the fullest within you that has not dimmed, even after everything that has happened to you."

Fire burned in her moss green eyes and she returned his glare. "Then why?" she snapped.

And that was a very pivotal question, one he wasn't even sure he had an answer to. "You kissed me, and you pulled away, but then… I kissed you because I wanted to," he stated.

The flames in her eyes were suddenly extinguished and she let out a slow breath. "What do you want from me, Blue?" she wondered softly, her voice defeated and vulnerable, her guard finally dropped.

He studied her face as he tried to figure out the answer to her question. "According to Michelangelo, mine and Catherine's relationship was 'a mess.' We always seemed to be at odds with each other."

"That's because you were being an ass," Elizabeth interjected smoothly, and he silenced her with a look, even though he had to acknowledge the truth of her words.

"And it feels as though…we never got to end things properly," he offered softly. "I think that I know, deep down, that things would never have worked out between us, even if she had loved me. But…"

"She loved you," Elizabeth offered softly, reaching up and cupping his cheek, sending a frission of awareness through him. "Don't ever think that she didn't. And I can tell you that she loved you more than any other man she ever had a relationship with."

Processing these words and knowing that his next question would hurt Elizabeth, he still asked, "Then why?"

Her eyes searched his, and she removed her hand from his cheek, and he felt the loss of this small touch of warm comfort. She took a moment as though she was sorting through a multitude of answers she could give before finally settling on, "You already know the answer."

"She loved Raph more," he said, surprised that he hadn't choked on his words or his traitorous brother's name.

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly before giving a reluctant nod and opening her eyes. "She tried so hard to make things work with you. You had a piece of her heart," she insisted. "But somewhere along the way…" her voice trailed off.

"I lost it," he finished for her.

Closing his eyes, the entirety of his relationship with Catherine flashed through his mind. There had been moments that were joyous, vibrant and exciting, but others that were bitter, angry and terrifying. But Elizabeth was right, Catherine had tried and he hadn't. He couldn't blame her for moving on, not really, he just wished the one who she had moved on with hadn't been his brother.

"Do you think we will ever know?" he asked.

"Know what?" she asked in confusion.

"How Catherine and Raph happened," he answered.

Elizabeth bit her lip, and his eyes followed the movement, remembering their softness and he found himself contemplating what they would taste like today.

"I guess it depends on if A: we ever find them, and B: if you will ever forgive them."

His eyes narrowed slightly, his earlier, more pleasantly occupied thoughts vanishing. "I don't know if I ever will," he replied honestly.

Elizabeth looked as if she was going to say more, but only shrugged instead. "So what now?" she asked him.

Pushing away from the bed and releasing her arms, he straightened. "I don't know. Go home I suppose," he answered as she sat up.

"Do you have to?" she suddenly asked her face filled with curiosity that did nothing to cover the tinge of fear that lay beneath.

"I think that would be…"

Her face fell.

"…no, I don't."

She looked at him suspiciously, her eyes searching his own as if trying to determine why he had suddenly changed his mind.

"Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly.

He nodded, knowing that she would rather be with someone than in the Brownstone alone, and he really couldn't blame her that much. It seemed overly large and much too quiet, even with the two of them there.

"Thanks," she finally offered. "But don't think you're getting laid, 'cause you totally aren't."

He blinked at her in shock and blushed. "I-I-" he stammered in embarrassment as she laughed, her smile lighting her face and chasing away the shadows that had clung to it for far too long. "You will have to at least buy me dinner first," she finished with a flirtatious wink.

Stomping down his embarrassment and wanting to maintain the flirtatious banter that she had started because it seemed to rid his own heart of its persistent ache, he replied in a soft, velvety tone, "I'm pretty sure that can be arranged."

She laughed before his words seemed to sink in and she blinked in surprise. "Wait, what?" she asked in shock. Her brow furrowed as he actually realized the implications of his words. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

About to stammer out a reply and cursing himself for recklessly endangering Elizabeth's feelings and giving her false hope, he instead stopped himself and replied, "Yes."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, a hint of hurt and anger sparking within them.

"And not because I want to 'get laid' as you so crudely put it," he assured her.

"Then why?" she asked slowly.

"Because I've missed you," he replied honestly.

For the past three months, even though Elizabeth had been right there in front of him, it was like she really hadn't been. And he realized that he missed her and that he needed her. He didn't like relying or leaning on anyone, but at the moment, it felt so very right to remain in her company.

Elizabeth lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "Ask me out again when you aren't in love with my sister anymore and we have a deal," she finally answered and he felt a flash of disappointment shoot through him, even though he knew that she was right.

He needed to deal with his feelings for Catherine first, and then he would be free to explore the something that had always existed between Elizabeth and himself.

"But you wanna hang out and eat, maybe watch a movie, I'm cool with that," she finished with a warm smile, and he found himself smiling in return.

"I thought you were going to bed?" he asked wondering if her offer was for tonight.

Elizabeth yawned. "I am. I'm beat. After sitting around mentally kicking my own ass all day, and dealing with one hell of a hangover, sleep sounds too good to resist. So I'll have to give you a rain check on the whole hanging out thing, but if you don't mind… Do you think you can crash here for the night?"

Leonardo weighed the dangers of such a request, but relented, giving a nod of acquiescence.

"Good," she said sliding into her bed and tossing a pillow at him. "Spare bedroom is down the hall."

Easily catching the pillow, he looked at it a moment before giving a half smile of acknowledgement. He wasn't sure where he had thought to sleep -the Brownstone was not short on space- but he hadn't thought of the spare bedroom, Catherine's former art room.

Turning, he walked to the door intent on the bedroom before Elizabeth snorted. "I'm kidding. That room is completely empty. You'll have to sleep in here."

Leonardo cast her a quick glance and shrugged, throwing the pillow on the ground, having no problem sleeping on the floor.

"Uh-uh, there is no way you are sleeping on the floor," Elizabeth protested. "This bed is huge. We can share; it isn't like we've never done it before. Just don't get handsy or I swear I will kick your ass."

Leonardo hesitated a moment, knowing that he had just managed to salvage their friendship, he didn't want to ruin it by tempting them both to cross the line in the sand that Elizabeth had just drawn.

"Blue, I'm saying it's okay," she said flopping down on her pillow, turning onto her side away from him. "If it makes you feel better, I'm wearing shorts under this shirt." She let out another yawn. "But do whatever you want. Don't care, too tired," she mumbled. "Oh, but catch the light will you?" she asked as an afterthought.

Reaching down, he picked the pillow up off the floor and considered his options for a moment before turning the light off in the bathroom and moving towards the bed. Placing the pillow back in its spot, he slid between the sheets.

He knew that Elizabeth had offered because it made her feel more comfortable, and he found it pleasing to know that she trusted him enough to allow him to lie next to her.

Settling upon his back on his side of the bed, his body sank into the mattress and he got a sense of just how large the bed really was when he realized that Elizabeth was almost more than an arm's length away.

Elizabeth rolled over so that she was able to look at him. "'Night, Blue," she said softly.

"Goodnight, Elizabeth," he answered as he looked over and smiled at her.

Elizabeth rolled back over and he turned his head so that he was staring at the shadowed ceiling. He took in a deep breath of air, letting it out as he listened to Elizabeth's breathing become slower and more even, indicating that she had fallen asleep.

Closing his eyes, he felt as if his heart was somehow lighter than it had been in months. Knowing the truth about Catherine had been freeing in a way, and although his heart was still broken, he felt hopeful that it would not remain in this state indefinitely; and he strongly suspected that the woman who lay sleeping peacefully beside him, would factor greatly in its recovery.


I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I hope it was worth the wait. :)