CHAPTER TWO

OBSERVATION

"I wonder how they reproduce."

The four doctors stared at the monitors. They hadn't seen their ninja friend all morning, but they sure as hell saw the work he did. He had a camera in every room, and several microphones placed around the rooms as well.

"They can't reproduce," Alex mumbled. "All four of them are males."

"How do you know?"

Good question. "Their voices?" Alex suggested, but he knew immediately that he could not make an assumption like that.

"They have to," Richardson mumbled. "It's basic instinct of every species to reproduce."

"Gentlemen, I don't think we're looking at a genuinely new species," Callihan sighed. "I believe we're looking at some kind of cross-mutated species."

"They still have to reproduce."

"Not if there's no females like them."

"What about her?"

Their attention fell to the girl on the sofa. She was laughing quietly as she talked to the one with the purple bandana. "She looks to be completely human."

"I wonder if we could identify her," Richardson thought out loud.

"What good would that do?"

Richardson shrugged. "Just a thought."

"Perhaps they can reproduce with human females."

Callihan smiled, considering the thought as the turtle stood up and walked out of the room. "I doubt that. Even if they somehow adopted male reproductive organs, the chances that their DNA would mesh with human DNA are slim to none."

"Unless it's some sort of strange evolution," Alex pondered. The turtle walked into his bedroom and grabbed a book, flopping down on the bed. Alex wondered briefly if he could actually read it.

"No," Travinski mumbled. The human girl stood up. "Evolution wouldn't cause a mammal to turn into a reptile, or vice versa. There was some outside agent involved."

"Hey, hey, look at this," Alex laughed, pointing at the screen as another turtle walked into the living room.

Michaelangelo slipped his arms around his girlfriend's waist and she jumped in surprise. "Mike!"

He smiled as he kissed her neck and bit her earlobe gently. "You've ungently stole from my bed," he whispered. "And yesternight at supper, You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, Musing and sighing, with your arms across." He kissed along the rim of her ear and she leaned back against him. "And when I ask'd you what the matter was, You star'd upon me with ungentle looks."

"Macbeth?" she guessed.

"Julius Caesar," he corrected, holding her tighter. "Portia to Brutus. What's wrong, babe?"

She turned to face him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, smiling.

"For what?"

"For urgently stealing from your bed," she grinned.

He kissed her deeply, well aware when Leonardo walked into the room, but caring very little. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder as she pulled away. "What's bothering you?" he asked again.

She sighed. "I don't know," she whispered. "I've just... been having those nightmares lately."

He buried his fingers in her hair, glancing up just long enough to see Leo disappear into the kitchen. "What are they about, anyway?"

She sighed. "I don't wanna talk about it."

He kissed her forehead and nuzzled against her. "I'm sorry," he sympathized.

"S'okay," she answered. "It isn't your fault."

"Wanna go to bed?" he whispered in her ear. "We can fool around..."

She laughed quietly as his hands roamed over intimate places. "Mikey..." she warned.

He hugged her close to him and kissed her neck. "You're tense," he observed. "Relax."

She tried, but her body refused. She was sore, and her head hurt. Donny said it was stress, and she could believe that. But it didn't make it hurt any less. She didn't want to tell Mike about it because he'd either worry or try everything he could think of to fix it. She didn't want either right now. What she really wanted was a good night's sleep.

"Mikey?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm tired."

He pulled away. She silently thanked god that he wasn't wearing that hurt, puppy-dog face that he adopted when he was "in the mood" and she wasn't. For once, his ungodly sex drive wasn't working overtime. "Okay," he whispered. "Want me to put you to bed?"

"If you can play nice," she answered.

He smiled and took her hands, leading her into their room.

"They're not gonna do anything."

"They can't."

"You don't know that."

The turtle laid the girl back on the bed and undressed her slowly. "Sure as hell looks like they can," Alex mumbled.

"Yeah, they sleep in the same bed," Callihan mumbled. "There's gotta be a reason."

"What do you suppose happened to that girl in her life that she would think it's okay to have sex with a turtle?" Alex wondered out loud.

"They're not having sex," Travinski answered. "They're just... sleeping together."

"Naked," Alex added, grinning.

"Is he ever not naked?" Travinski demanded.

"No, but she is," Richardson mumbled.

Travinski sighed deeply and fell silent. He watched with little interest as the turtle brushed his fingers over the side of the girl's face and her eyes opened. He asked her something, but it was too quiet to hear. "Turn that mic up," Richardson ordered.

Alex walked to the audio board. "Which one is it?"

"Try thirteen."

"No, it's fifteen," Callihan corrected. "I was listening to them earlier."

"Really, what'd they say?"

"Quiet!" Richardson ordered.

The room was filled with the quiet hiss of static. "Are you sure you don't wanna talk?"

"Yes, Mikey, I'm sure."

The crowd watched as he nuzzled the side of her face gently and whispered something too quiet to hear. She laughed. "No, it's not that."

He smiled as he pulled away. "You sure?"

"Uh huh."

He buried his three fingers in her hair and lay his head down next to hers. "I love you, Rei."

She smiled as his hand ran down. "Oh, look!" Alex joked excitedly. "Look! He's making a move!"

Callihan shoved him. "Grow up."

His hand slipped underneath the blanket. "He's not gonna do it," Travinski mumbled under his breath.

"You don't know that."

"Where's his dick, Pat?" he smirked.

She glared at him. "Where's yours?"

Rei sighed deeply as she felt Mike's hand trail down her side. "You want me to rub you down?" he suggested.

She laughed. "Mikey, I'm fine," she assured him.

"I believe you," he smiled. "Doesn't mean I can't be nice to you."

"Why, do you want something?" she pressed.

His fingers slipped underneath her nightshirt and raised it above her hip. "Oh, the ways I could answer such an open-ended question," he grinned.

"Answer, then," she urged. "What is it you want?"

His fingers traced the edge of her panties, and slipped underneath them, parting her legs slightly. He kissed her earlobe. "To love you," he whispered. "To be with you forever. I want you."

She smiled as his fingers moved her panties to the side, baring her sex. "You have me," she reminded him.

She turned to look at him as his fingertip brushed over her moist lips. He smiled and kissed her lightly. "Close your eyes," he whispered. "Go to sleep."

She laughed to herself. "This he says as he's trying to excite me..."

"No, I'm not," he smiled. "Don't think about it, just relax. Let it feel good. It'll put you to sleep, I promise."

She breathed deeply as his finger slipped in and out of her, almost casually. She could feel his breath against the side of her face, slow and steady. He hadn't ever done this before to put her to sleep. But as she evaluated the feeling, she realized that he was right. It was relaxing, even more than it was sexual if she didn't think about it as if there would be more to follow. Strange how he knew that about her... She hadn't even thought of this.

Michaelangelo felt the tension slowly ease from his lover's body. After a long pause, she turned to him and cuddled up closer, tucking her head under his chin. He slipped his hand underneath her nightshirt and held her protectively, brushing his thumb back and forth against the small of her back. He measured her breathing, and was well aware as it deepened. She was asleep. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes.

"That's it?" Alex questioned. "What the hell was that?"

"They can't reproduce through digital sex," Richardson mumbled. "They're just not going to do it tonight."

"Do you want to record this?" Travinski suggested, glancing at his watch. "I mean, it's almost ten o'clock and I'm about ready to get home."

Dr. Richardson considered that for a moment. "No, I don't think that will be necessary. Let's meet back here in the morning at eight."

"We could set the VTR to record at six," Callihan suggested. "That way we'll see what they do when they wake up, if it's before we get here."

Richardson nodded. "That's a good idea; let's do that. And I'll see you all in the morning."

***

Michaelangelo knew he was awake long before he opened his eyes. He breathed deep a few times and moved closer to Rei. She was still asleep, he could tell. What time was it? He kissed her temple and nuzzled her sweet-smelling hair. She moaned slightly, but didn't stir.

His body awoke slowly and he forced his eyes open. The glowing red digits on the clock told him it was only 5:30. Geez, why was he up so early? Ordinarily, he made Leo drag him out of bed around seven. But he was fully alert in a few minutes, and he decided to get up.

The air was cold, and he made sure that Rei was completely covered before he slipped out of the room. The lair was silent, and the only light came from the dojo. He yawned and stretched, then walked to the room. Donatello was on the mat, half-heartedly running through a simple kata. Mike was only slightly surprised. He'd expected to see Leo, this early in the morning.

Donny saw him immediately and turned to him. "Ohayo," he greeted.

"Ohayo," Mike answered, nodding to his brother. "Why are you up so early?"

"I don't know. I've had a hard time sleeping lately."

Mike walked to the weapons rack and retrieved a set of practice, foam padded nunchakus. His weapons, his belt, and all his pads were still on his bedroom floor. He didn't need them. It wasn't like they hid anything anyway. "You and Rei both," he mumbled.

"Nightmares again?"

"Constantly. And she won't talk about them, either. I don't want to think about what they might be about."

"It's just stress, Mike," Don assured him. "Don't worry about it."

Michaelangelo sighed as he approached his brother. "I wish I could not worry about it."

They bowed to each other and braced. Donatello struck first, and Mike caught his weapon on the chain of his own. He waited for him to pull back before spinning into a roundhouse kick that Don blocked with his bo. "I just wish she'd talk about them, you know?" Mike mumbled, regaining his footing just in time to avoid a jab at his chest. "But she won't."

"Probably 'cause they have something to do with you," Donatello suggested, blocking the blow aimed at his neck.

"She tell you that?"

"Iie," he mumbled. "But I can guess."

They continued in silence for a few moments before Donny made a connection right at his brother's wrist. Mike dropped the weapon to avoid getting hurt, just like he'd been taught, and jumped into a high kick. Don caught his chest with his bo and Mike hit the ground.

"Well done."

They turned, startled, and Donatello bowed as he saw Master Splinter in the doorway. "Ohayo, Sensei," he greeted.

Michaelangelo pulled himself to his feet. "Ohayo."

"Ohayo, *students*," he answered. "Why are you awake so early?"

They glanced at each other, then shrugged. "I don't know," Mike grinned. "But might as well put it to good use, right Sensei?"

Splinter smiled and nodded. "Continue, then," he urged. "I did not mean to interrupt."

***

"What the hell...?"

"Yeah, I know. They've been at it since I got in, almost an hour ago."

Matthew Richardson watched the screen as two of the figures attacked the third. "Is it... planned?" he questioned.

"Looks to me like it's martial arts," Travinski mumbled. "But how they learned it is beyond me."

Richardson stared at them in awe as Alex stepped through the door. "Morning, all."

"Damn, they're fast," Richardson whispered.

"Yes. They are," Travinski mumbled. "And you know what's even better? Our mic went out in that room. I can't hear shit."

He counted again. "Where's the fourth one?" he questioned. "The one with the girl?"

Travinski yawneed. "Girl's still in bed. The turtle seems to be cooking, if you can believe it. He got up before our deck started rolling this morning so I don't know how long he's been awake."

Michaelangelo left the eggs in the pan and turned the heat off. He covered them and set them on a back burner. He wasn't sure how long it would take to get Rei out of bed. She'd been really tired last night, and she hadn't even stirred in the three times he'd been in and out of the room this morning.

He walked to the room and closed the door behind him. He lay down on his side behind her. "Ohayo Rei-chan," he murmured, kissing the side of her face.

She moaned slightly as she woke up, and he rubbed her shoulder gently. "Ima non-ji desu ka?"

"What language is that?" Alex demanded, studying the screen.

"I don't know," Richardson answered. "Japanese maybe?"

"Or Chinese," Travinski suggested.

"Ju-ji desu," the turtle whispered back.

"No, I think it's Japanese."

"They speak Japanese?" Alex cried.

The woman groaned and turned to the figure beside her, burying her face in his shoulder. He kissed her hair. "O-genki desu ka?" he whispered.

"Watashi wa nemui desu," she laughed quietly.

Richardson sighed and tossed his pen on the counter. "Well," he sighed. "Know anybody who speaks Japanese? 'Cause this isn't gonna do us a damn bit of good if we can't understand them."

"We could tape it," Travinski suggested. "Have somebody else translate it."

"And what do we do if they say something that reveals what he is?" Richardson challenged. "This entire investigation is behind closed doors, and we don't want anyone knowing about it who doesn't have to."

"What about one of them?" Callihan suggested. They turned as she walked into the room, a styrofoam cup filled with coffee in her hands.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," she shrugged. "We have to capture one of them sooner or later if we want to do a complete analysis."

"Yes," Richardson agreed. "But how?" He hadn't even begun to think of how to address that issue yet.

"Yeah, I don't suppose those weapons they carry are just supposed to serve as jewelry. Especially not after seeing that." Travinski gestured toward the screen where the other three were still locked in battle.

Alex smiled. "I bet I could do it."

Callihan watched the monitors. The turtle glanced over his shoulder at the closed door, then pulled the blanket away from Rei, baring her naked body to the icy cold air. She moaned. "Mike, please don't do that. It's cold in here."

He leaned down and kissed her deeply, pinning her hands to the bed. "It's time to get up."

"I don't want to get up," she answered quietly.

"Well, you're gonna do it anyways because I made you breakfast."

She stared up at him. "You didn't have to do that."

He smiled. "I know. Get out of bed."

He kissed her as he backed away, pulling her up to a sitting position. Then he turned and grabbed her robe off of the chair. "Come on."

Travinski sighed. "Well, whatever they're talking about, it doesn't involve staying in bed."

"Of course not," Alex chuckled. "He made her breakfast, remember?"

***

"Where are you going?"

Raphael glared at his brother. "Well gee, Leo, let me write down my schedule for you," he shot back.

Leonardo crossed his arms over his plastron. "Yeah, Raph, why don't you? That way if you turn up dead, we'll know where to look for you."

Raphael grabbed his trenchcoat off the rack. "Fuck you, Leo."

"You know, I don't understand why you..."

"Fine," Raph interrupted. "You don't understand me. That's fine." He spun to face his brother as he shoved his arms into the jacket. "In fact, it's how I want it. So just get the hell off my back and we'll get along just fine.

"One of these days, Raph, you're going to end up getting hurt."

Raphael spun and glared at him. "Look, just because you'd rather stay home and play with Handessa doesn't mean I can't go get the real thing."

Leonardo felt anger stir inside of him. "Raph..." he warned.

"Save your energy, Leo," he grinned evilly. "I think there's a good porno movie on tonight."

Michaelangelo snickered quietly, but remained quiet. He wasn't about to step between his brothers when they bickered. That was suicide. He watched as Raphael turned and walked out the front door, and Leo stormed into his room.

***

He studied the woman carefully. She was pretty, but she wasn't trying to show it off. Her long, permed, blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She wore loose jeans with holes in the knees and a faded, gray T-shirt. No makeup, no drink in front of her. Raphael couldn't help but wonder what the hell she was doing in a bar.

She chatted with the bartender, and traced designs in the top of the bar. Finally, he stood up and walked over to her, leaving his empty glass on the table and burying his hands in his trenchcoat. He pulled the hat low over his forehead, glad that the lights in the bar were dim, and sat down in the barstool next to her. "Buy you a drink?" he offered.

She turned and looked at the shadowed, faceless figure next to her. "Oh, no, that's okay. I'm too young to drink."

He couldn't help but steal a glance at her, surprised that she'd said that when the bartender was standing so close. Of course, he wasn't nearly old enough to drink either, but nobody here knew that. "What'll it be, Raph?" Missy asked, leaning forward on the bar, her dark hair falling over her shoulders. She could pretty much guess what his answer would be. The dark figure had been visiting her bar frequently the past few weeks. She knew he wasn't a hard drinker, probably just starting. She had a feeling he probably wasn't old enough to be in here, but since she'd never seen his face, she couldn't be sure. And she didn't want to harrass him. He was a good customer, not the rowdy type that seemed to be around more and more frequently lately.

"Know any good harems around here?" he joked.

Missy crossed her arms over her chest, smiling. Coming from anyone else, she might have been offended. But she knew that was just Raphael's sense of humor. The blonde sitting next to him didn't. "Harems?" she exclaimed, surprised.

Raphael laughed quietly. "I'm kidding. Margarita."

Missy turned to make the drink and Clarisse stared at the figure beside her. "So what, exactly, are you doing here if you're not going to drink?" he asked her.

She sighed. "I was waiting for someone," she explained. "But it doesn't look like she's going to show up."

Missy set the drink in front of Raphael and picked up the cash he'd set on the bar. How did he always manage to do that while she wasn't looking? As rediculous as it sounded, she'd never even seen his hands. She didn't know if he was black, white, or purple with pokadots. He stared at the drink, his hands under the bar. Finally, she turned away and laughed to herself at his secrecy.

He felt around mentally, to see if anyone was watching him. The blonde was, but she turned away after a moment of silence. He lifted the drink to his lips, then set it down and buried his hands again. "So what's your name?" he asked.

The girl turned. "Oh," she exclaimed, sounding like she was thrown by his question. "Um, Leigh."

He smiled to himself. She probably wasn't any older than he was, and a lot less comfortable with being here. "I'm Raphael."

She looked up, and he didn't manage to look away fast enough. He heard her gasp and she nearly fell off of the barstool. Shit. This was gonna cause a scene now. He got ready to bolt, if need be. "I, uh, I have to go," Leigh stammered quickly as she struggled to regain her balance. He sighed and looked away as she stumbled out of the bar. As the customers became engrossed in their own worlds again, he downed the rest of the drink and tossed a tip on the counter.

He was almost to the door when his attention was diverted. "Strike out again?"

He turned and studied the man in the booth. He was probably in his late 20s, with light brown hair and a pale complexion. He wore a black jean jacket and a red T-shirt with faded jeans. "S'cuse me?" Raphael challenged. Who did this guy think he was?

"Wanna know the secret?" the man offered.

"No," Raph answered. "Thanks anyway."

He turned to leave again. The guy was probably one of those talkative drunks. Raph hated people like that. "I could make you human, Raphael."

Raphael stopped. He turned around to face the man slowly. "How do you know my name?" he demanded.

The man nodded toward the bar. "You just told it to your blonde friend. I was on the other side of her."

"How'd you hear it from way over here?" The rest of his sentence slowly sunk in. "And what do you mean, make me human? What the fuck are you on?"

The man smiled. "Have a seat," he gestured.

Raphael eyed the door, then walked hesitantly to the man. He sat down across the table from him, making sure to keep his hands under the table. The man noticed. "It's okay," he assured. "I already know."

"You know what?" Raph challenged.

"About you," he nodded. "What you are. Granted, I don't know how you got that way. Maybe you could enlighten me?"

"Why are we talking?" Raphael demanded.

The man laughed. "Direct. I like that." He leaned back. "My name's Raymond. And I'm here to help you."

"Well, my name's Raphael. And I'm listening."

"My partners and I are conducting an experiment," Raymond informed. "We need a... volunteer to help us."

"You're scientists?" Raph guessed.

Raymond was caught off guard. "Yes."

Raphael stood up. "Go to hell."

Raymond sighed as he turned and walked away. Then he reached for his cell phone. "Hello, this is Adam."

"Hey, bud, got your tranq ready?"

"Locked and loaded."

"Good, 'cause he's not cooperating."

"Told ya he wouldn't."

"Just get ready. He should be coming out in just a minute here."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "Okay, I think I see him. Beige trenchcoat?"

"Yep, that's him."

"Right. Pat's standing by to pick him up. Be ready to get outta here pronto."

Raphael could feel someone watching him as he walked out of the building. He kept his eyes moving, acutely aware of everything around him. His sixth sense was screaming at him. He knew there was danger nearby even if he couldn't see it. That was okay. He didn't mind roughing it up with a few scientists, except that an adrenaline rush was not going to help him to sleep tonight. He stayed alert.

It was as if he'd heard the dart whistle through the air. He ducked out of the way and looked up toward where it had come from. His eyes located a figure on the roof, and he watched for signs of a second shot. His eyes were still adjusting when he realized there was a second shooter. He didn't have time to duck as a shot came from a different rooftop. Pain struck his forearm and instinctively reached for the wound. The toxin worked fast. He didn't even have time to try and run.