CAUGHT

November 17, 1995

NC-17 scene goes here, Raph/Clarisse - http://www.angelfire.com/ok5/tmnt/fahter/caught.html

MICHAELANGELO:

I watched from the doorway as Raphael ran through the kata with practiced accuracy. I hated to admit it, but I almost envied him. Not for the face that he was good, but for the fact that he didn't care. He had what none of us did, in that every move he made, every success he had was done for himself, and not for anyone else. He didn't care if he met Splinter's high expectations, or if he outdid Leo. Every time I saw him, I thought more and more that he very well could kick Leo's ass if he tried. It was like he was naturally good at it, while the rest of us had to work for it. Leonardo worked harder than any of us, and his perserverance outdid Raphael's natural ability. Because Raphael had no desire to compete with him. Not in the martial arts, anyways. Now leadership... hell yeah, they'd fight over that.

He moved silently, eyes closed, but I knew he saw me. I could feel his eyes on me, trying to figure out if I was a threat, and what I wanted. He didn't like being on display, especially when he knew he was liable to get criticized. Had I been Leo or Splinter, he would've already stopped. But he didn't cut the exercise short. He finished it, and held the last stance, breathing deep. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked directly at me. "What do you want, Mikey?" he asked.

For a moment, I felt like an intruder. His tone was calm, but the words were accusing. "That was good," I offered.

He shrugged and I smiled inwardly. He didn't care. He wouldn't care if I'd told him it was the best I'd ever seen. He didn't do it for me, or for anyone else. "You need something?" he asked again.

He was impatient, and not in the greatest mood. I wondered if he and Leo had been fighting. I hadn't heard it, but that didn't mean it hadn't happened. "I was just going to go up to the streets. You wanna go?"

"No."

"You sure? You haven't been out much."

He glared at me. "Thanks for the newsflash."

I folded my arms over my plastron, watching him as he picked up the towel he'd dropped in the corner of the mat. "You know, usually when we get a crime wave come through this city, you're the first one to rush out and bust heads." He said nothing. "Something wrong with you?"

"Yeah, Mike," he sighed. It was sarcasm and I knew it. "Something's wrong. Something's really bothering me and I just don't know how to deal with it. I think maybe I just need to cry."

I smiled. I hadn't seen Raph cry since we were five years old. "Why don't you just go bug Anna at the orphanage and leave me the hell alone?" he suggested.

I considered that for a moment. "Wanna go with me?"

"Where?"

"The orphanage?"

He laughed cynically. "Should I?" he challenged. He spun to face me, his eyes blazing. "Look, Mikey, I'm not like you, okay? I'm glad you go up there, I'm glad it makes you feel better, but I'm not like that."

I shook my head. "I didn't say you were, Raph. I'm just saying..."

"No."

"For them?"

"No."

"But Raph..."

"Mikey, if you don't knock it off I'm gonna hold you down and duct tape your mouth closed, got it?"

I smiled at the threat. It wouldn't be the first time. "You'd have to catch me first," I challenged.

He walked past me, stopping briefly. "Try me, Mikey," he grinned evilly.

I followed him into the living room. "So... what's the plan for the rest of the day?" I questioned. "You gonna lay in bed and mourn your pitiful life?"

We walked into the kitchen. "I oughtta deck you, Mike, you know that?"

I laughed. "For what? Pointing out the truth?"

He turned and looked at me, and I got ready to run if he made a move. He studied me for a minute, like he was considering it, but turned back to the kitchen sink. He didn't say anything as he filled a glass with water and brought it to his lips. "Or... maybe you and Clarisse could lay in bed together and finish what you started in the shower this morning."

He choked and his head snapped forward as he leaned over the sink, almost dropping the glass. I smiled slyly as he coughed and took a minute to catch his breath before looking at me. "What!"

I shrugged, still smiling, but let him make the next move. He just stared at me for a moment, then looked away, shaking his head. "No, it's not..." He started to deny it, then his head snapped back to face me. "How the fuck do you know about that!" he demanded, abandoning the idea of denial. It was just as well. He knew I'd get the truth out of him eventually. And he knew I wouldn't tell on him.

"Heard you," I answered simply.

"What do you mean, you heard me; you weren't even home!"

I chuckled to myself. "Maybe I was, and you just didn't hear me come in because you were too engrossed in whatever it was you were doing in there."

He turned and leaned back against the counter, running his hands down his face. "Oh, god," he groaned. "You gotta be kidding me, Mikey."

I laughed. "So is this a... spur of the moment thing? Or have you been with her for a while?"

He glared at me. "It's whatever you want to think it is, Mike; I'm not admitting nothing."

"I didn't think so," I shrugged. "But I thought I'd give you a little warning. Next time... you might want to keep it down. I'd be surprised if Splinter didn't hear you."

He cringed. "I didn't think we were that loud."

"Well maybe you wanna gag her next time or something," I suggested, smiling. "Get her a dog chain and a choker?" He glared at me. "Oh, I got it! We could call her Kinky Clarisse! Get her a 1-900 number and we'll be set for life!"

He grabbed the towel off the counter and threw it at me. "You are such an ass."

I shielded myself from the towel and whatever else might follow it. "Yeah, I know," I grinned. "But you love me. Not like you have much of a choice right now. Blackmail is a beautiful thing."

I turned and ran as he sprinted after me.