MARCO

Marco sat at his desk, chewing over the latest call from his superiors. In front of him fidgeted four of his human employees, growing shiftier as the silence dragged out. Behind them, flanking either side of the door were Spot, his hefty turtle-mutant bulk essentially blocking the way in or out, and Sid, the slender mongoose-mutant seeming almost nonexistent beside his counterpart. Neither mutant looked the slightest bit twitchy. But then, they wouldn't. Smooth saw to that.

With the untimely loss of Billy and Gil, he was already running short staff, an issue that would only get worse in the near future. Replacing the bull and coyote would not be easy, but at least their disappearances could be overlooked by the authorities. Unlike his other problem.

"Your extracurriculars have been drawing unwanted attention." He started, tone icy.

The men avoided eye contact. One looked down, scuffing his toe against the ground as he spoke. "No one can trace it to us. We made sure there wasn't any evidence."

Your DNA is evidence dumbass.

"Besides, who's gonna care about a few stupid girls? Our guy in the department can bury it."

Marco sighed and stood up, placing his palms on his desk. "It's more than a few and too many of them are human. This is drawing unwanted media attention. Looking-to-whip-up-into-a-public-crusade media attention. And you know how the organization feels about media attention."

The men paled.

"But our guy in the department…he can fix it, right?" The spokesman for them ventured the question.

Marco smiled. "Fortunately, yes."

Spot and Sid stepped forward with blinding speed, dual wielding syringes that they plunged into each of the four humans who dropped like rocks.

Marco turned to Spot. "OD them on heroin, meth or something else common that's easy enough to obtain and dump them under a bridge or something. I don't really care as long as it appears plausible. Then let Ted know where to find them."

He redirected his attention to Sid. "Back date their firing from here by at least a week. And make sure Ted knows to destroy any evidence that doesn't link back to these four. I want it in his report that we did the tipping off, reporting on their suspicious behavior. I want this investigation closed and nothing splashing back on the organization. Understood?" They both nodded and began clearing out his office.

He sat back down at his desk and heaved a sigh. Time to start filling some job openings.

PHOENIX

Phoenix waited several minutes outside Antoinette's door, before her knocks were finally answered.

Clearly Ana had been expecting someone else when she opened the door, as evidenced her disappointment. That and the fact that her robe and toweled hair had clearly been staged for effect. No one exited the shower with perfectly done make up.

Ana pulled up the drooping side of her robe to cover her shoulder and started to shut the door. "You're not welcome."

Phoenix caught the door before it closed. "I won't be long. This isn't a social call."

Ana scowled. "Then what do you want? I'm busy."

"Clearly." Phoenix stated dryly. "I'm here about my granddaughter."

Ana sniffed. "What business is Chanel of yours?"

"I'm here to tell you that you're done interfering with her life and using her as leverage to hurt and manipulate my son." Phoenix stared her down as she spoke.

Ana, nervously avoided eye contact. "I don't know what you're talking about. Besides, Chanel is my daughter. I have legal custody and I'll parent any way I please." She put her hands on her hips, adding in a little bare-footed stomp for emphasis.

Phoenix remained unmoved. "No, you'll behave from now on. Do you understand?"

Ana's lip quivered. "Is that a threat, because I'll call the police."

"A promise." Phoenix corrected. "What will the police do if you report new gray hairs or fresh wrinkles? Can they prosecute bad luck? Your future could be full of broken high heels, snagged dress fabric and hair treatments gone wrong."

"That's...I don't believe in any of your witchy hokum. You're just a charlatan." Despite her assertion Ana had gone pale.

"Maybe. Maybe not. If it's worth the risk to you, by all means continue. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Phoenix turned to go, leaving a speechless and uncertain Ana standing in the doorway. That should take care of that.

SCOUT/RAPH/LEO

As Scout stepped onto the mat, bowing in respect of her uncle and the spar they were about to engage in, she couldn't help but feel today was the day. It had to be. The past week had never moved so slow, yet been so... enlightening. Losing six sparring matches by disqualification was ruining her winning record. Not being allowed to spar with her cousins had her feeling even a little more left out than usual. She inhaled deep, exhaled slow, aware of both her father, and today, Uncle Leo's watchful eye. No problem. She had this.

Hours of not only meditation, but yoga, decidedly with her Grandmere and both of her aunts rather than one of them, had given her three different styles and four combined aides to help channel her energy... her fury. The time, albeit creeping along had served a great purpose. She was learning to reshape herself, about herself, and had come to terms with the fact that she was no longer the girl before Essence. Hamato Scout was changed.

Raph rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. "Ok, Carrots. Show me what you got." He started, intentionally avoiding signing as they bowed in.

Scout frowned as her uncle forgot to sign. They'd been doing this every day for a week now, how did he forg- Don't go down that road, Scout.

Breathe. Her Aunt Zoe's words filled her head like a mantra. Just breathe. She inhaled deep and exhaled slow.

Carrots. Her mind offered. Carrots.

Nope.

Inhale.

Not today.

Exhale.

She stepped into her stance, already planning her first combination. She'd let him make a move then feign right and attack left. A nice little tap to start.

Raph was proud she wasn't rising to the bait. Good.

"What's with the hesitation?" he taunted. "Getting scared? Makes sense with how much you've been losing lately."

She maintained her calm.

Time for him to make a move. He attacked, fronting left, intending to come around right with a kick when she opened up to defend against his opening bluff.

Her plan thwarted, she was forced to block. She did so quickly, allowing the move to flow into her second planned attack. Most artists would regroup after every interaction, Scout preferred to have several scenarios in mind, all with an option to block and flow into her next move. Always an opportunity to score a point.

As she assaulted him with jab-cross combos, he blocked each while she sought the opportunity to make her real move. But she had to be faster, unpredictable, and yet pull her punch should it find the path to connect. It was hard work to find the opportunity to mix up the flow of her punches so he couldn't find a pattern, reversing them enough to find the chance to spin around, launch herself into the air yet hold back so that when her foot tapped his plastron it was just that. The balls of her feet, skimming his gi.

His eyes widened in surprise. One point, Scout. Well-executed.

"Lucky shot."

He came again, this time straight at her, breaking left at the last second. Guard up, he tried slipping a punch in towards her torso.

Her eyes tracked his hands, a fist incoming fast. Scout pivoted, allowing her shoulder to roll back, just giving her the clearance for his fist to sail by her chest in fractions. Using her slightly altered position to her advantage, Scout stepped into a string of kick attacks, each one shy of her full strength. Although the careful execution had each muscle complaining of withheld energy desperate to be released, her newfound control was a reward in itself.

Her uncle was there, his attacks becoming more aggressive. Faster. Harder. Trickier. But Scout was in her element. Every rotation, step and extension, fluid with just the reserve at the end. How she still loved a follow through, but this, this felt incredible too.

The walls of the dojo fell away. Her father and uncles' watchful eyes forgotten, she was in a different space, she and her opponent. Reflexes sharp, smooth, accurate. This was her world. Her place in it.

Her uncle's lips were moving. Smack talk, she quickly identified. Then she realized, she didn't need to read his lips or know what he was saying, so long as she followed the rules. Rules she knew like the alphabet.

Somewhere, it registered that he'd scored a point. A tap to her shoulder, he was gloating. That's when she quit seeing his face, only her target on it. His jaw, moving, her fist flying towards it, tapping him quickly. His surprise, followed by her feigned right. Feigned left. Left jab. Blocked. She dropped her shoulder kicked, though he blocked. Fine. She'd just wanted the space. She leapt into a spin kick, delivering a tap to his shoulder.

Three points for her.

Two more and this match was over.

Leo watched the match with a burgeoning sense of pride and relief. She'd found that untouchable center and was just flowing with the fight, beyond the reach of external forces.

Even Raph had slipped from his role as instructor and tester, to be absorbed in the match. It wasn't often that they could operate at the full extent of their potential. At least not in a fighting-for-one's-life kind of way and even that had been a while.

There was a joy and excitement in testing one's limits with a genuine challenge. He had to admit a bit of jealousy in leaving Raph and Mikey as her sparring partners. Perhaps, after the pressure of competing and its preparation had passed, he'd see how he fared against their little prodigy.

Ramping up his assault, Raph scored a second point and a third. But Scout didn't bat an eye. She remained unfazed and completely focused, coming back to earn her fourth point.

Just as Raph made a bid for another point, she closed the trap, throwing him off balance with her sudden evasion and taking advantage of his recovery to score her fifth and final point.

"Match. Scout wins."

They bowed out and Raph grinned despite the loss, signing. "Well done, Squirt. There's hope for you yet."

She rolled her eyes, as good-naturedly as a teenager could, before turning her attention to Leo with barely contained excitement. This was her first test since losing her cool a week prior.

He smiled and signed. "Well done. I knew you'd make it, but your turn-around time on it is astounding. I honestly thought it would take much longer. But I'm pleased to find I was mistaken. In gaining mastery of self, you've reached a new level of accomplishment in our art."

He could see how badly she wanted to ask, but was proud of her patience and self-discipline in the face of that desire.

"All restrictions are lifted. You are free to resume your competition training, although I advise you to keep up on your temper management strategies as well."

"Booyakabunga!" Mikey called out, arm pumping the air before transitioning into a victory dance that looked something like a moonwalking robot.

Leo sighed and rubbed his temples.

Scout bowed respectfully to her Uncle Leo, but what she really wanted to do, but couldn't decide, was who to hug first. In all truth she'd put in work, a lot of it, every free moment she had. But she'd had the combined help of all three of them, plus her two aunts, and Grandmere.

Her dad was still dancing. He slid by, reached out, and hooked his arm around her, gathering her into one of his air denying hugs. She hugged him back with fervor, but soon had to tap out, reminding him she needed air.

As he returned her to her feet, she looked at the three of them, signing, "How can I thank everyone for all of your help?"

Leo returned a kind smile, signing. "You're already doing it. We're all so proud of you. Keep going and don't give up."