CHAPTER FIFTEEN

INTRODUCTIONS

Sss979: Okay, so for all of you who think you know who Don was talking to, I ask you this: Why on Earth would Don WANT to talk to him when last they met, the suspected individual was yelling about how Mike was an animal and had no right to be with Rei?? Danger: Well, maybe he changed. Raph sure as hell did. S: Or maybe it wasn't him. Danger: *chuckles quietly* Can't you just for once let the readers be right? Or at least let them THINK they're right? S: *grins evilly*

Raphael rang the buzzer at the back door of the building. It took a moment for a security guard to answer. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Dr. Catherine Richardson," he answered. "She should be expecting me."

The officer eyed the young man in jeans and a faded black T-shirt under his long trenchcoat. What business did he have here at 8:00 at night?

"I'll let her know you're here," he informed, closing the door again.

Raphael waited patiently, trying to focus his thinking. He had to remember who he was trying to be here. The personality, the attitude, the motive. Be breathed deep, exhaling all that he was and inhaling a totally new character. He looked up again as the door opened again. "John," the woman greeted warmly. "Welcome."

He smiled back. "Hey, what's up? My girlfriend told me you all were tryin' to get ahold of me."

"Yes, we were, actually. Won't you come in?"

He walked through the door and followed her through a hallway to the right, memorizing the path. "My team and I wanted to ask you a few questions, if that's okay."

"No problem."

She led him into a conference room and gestured toward the table. "If you'll just sit down, I'll go get them."

Raphael sat down and relaxed slightly as she walked out of the room. Instinctively, he scanned the room for any visible sign of cameras. There was one in the far corner that probably showed the entire room. He allowed only his eyes to move over the room, trying to appear relaxed. It was nearly five minutes before the door opened again. He turned and faced a man in his mid-forties with dark, thinning hair and thick eyeglasses. Like Richardson, he wore a white lab coat with only a black pen in the front pocket. The serious expression on his face was an immediate warning to Raphael. This guy was dedicated, and not what Raph had been hoping for.

"John, this is Chris Rossini, our overseer," Richardson explained as they shook hands.

"Hey," he greeted.

"And this is Paul Lexton."

Raphael turned to a second man. Thirty-six, he immediately guessed. Maybe thirty seven, but no older. His light brown hair was almost blonde. He had his white coat closed, but Raph could see jeans underneath it. He had a friendly smile, but a dark look in his eye. Raph was on guard against it without having to think.

"In case we haven't been formally introduced, I'm Catherine Richardson," the woman continued, closing the door behind her. Raphael sighed inwardly. Was this all he had to work with? So much for plan A. "We also have an intern who works with us; she should be arriving shortly."

"We were wondering if you'd mind answering a few questions for us," Lexton began.

"Hey, that's what I'm here for."

"Does this girlfriend of yours have a name?"

Raphael nodded. "Her name's Mica." No harm in telling them that.

"How old is she?"

"She keeps saying she's, like, seventeen. But I don't think so. I'd guess fourteen or fifteen."

"How long have you known her?"

"Couplea months."

"And how long have you known of her... condition?"

Raphael suppressed a laugh. Condition? "'Bout three weeks."

"What made you decide to come forward with this information?"

Raphael shrugged. "Well, I read about how y'all were tryin' to get a cure for cancer and some shit. So I figured hey, if I can help with that..."

The scientists looked at each other. "But hey," Raphael continued. "One thing though. If y'all are gonna use my help, I wanna see what you're doin'."

"What do you mean?" Rossini questioned.

"Hey, I'll sign your stuff and swear to secrecy; I ain't with the press or nothin'. But I wanna see what it is you do with her."

They all looked at each other. Richardson was the first to find her voice. "John, I don't think that would be in the best interest of Mica or the..."

"Hey, those're my conditions," he mumbled. "You ain't never gonna find her without my help." He smiled as he considered his threat. "And maybe I'll just take her to the press. I'm sure they'd love a story like this. Once she's a celebrity, it'd be awful hard for y'all to kidnap her and dissect her."

Lexton chuckled. "That is not what we do here."

Raph shrugged. "Well, you ain't gonna get her here if the whole country's watching her."

"Are you threatening us?" Rossini questioned.

Raphael laughed. "Nah, man, I wouldn't do that. I'm just lookin' for the best deal, man."

"What, you want money?" Lexton asked.

"No, I want in. I wanna see what's goin' on. Whole scientific world knows Matthew Richardson 'causea his books, once he could write 'em without gettin' in trouble with the government people. I want the science, man."

Matthew Richardson's daughter hid a smile behind her hand. "You're... interested in science?"

"Aw, yeah, science is cool. I couldn't afford to go to college but it always got my interest."

Catherine didn't have a chance to answer before the door opened and Spirit walked in. Raphael turned and did a double take. What he saw was a thin, tall woman in a short skirt and high leather boots. Her legs seemed to go on forever. She wore a jean jacket and carried a black backpack. Manicured nails, tanned skin, dangling earrings. A black choker around her neck, and blue eye makeup around her green eyes. Her blonde hair was permed and pulled up behind her. Perfect posture, shining lips. Raphael almost fell out of his seat. Jackpot.

She smiled as she noticed his eyes running over her. She could tell he was surprised, and he barely heard her introduction. He wasn't bad looking himself, she quickly decided. In fact, he was kind of a hottie. Very well built, tanned. His sparkling green eyes captivated her immediately, and it was as if she had seen him somewhere before. "So you're John," she greeted, offering her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Believe me," he stammered, "pleasure's mine."

***

"How did it go?"

Raphael tossed the jacket at the coat rack and missed. He let it fall to the floor and flopped down on the couch. "Pretty good," he sighed. "Their intern's got potential."

"Potential for what?"

"Give me a few days and I think I can turn her against them," he informed. "She's plenty loyal to the project. Probably even moreso than Richardson, who was my first thought. But she was giving me looks throughout the entire questioning. She's young and easily manipulated."

Leonardo wasn't sure how he felt about that statement. Raph opened his eyes and glanced at him. "Look, Leo, I'm gonna do whatever I have to do and use whoever I have to use in order to get Donny out of there. Got that?"

Leo nodded. "I understand."

"And she's by far the best target."

"She's attractive?" Leo guessed.

"Hot as hell," Raph answered. "And she knows it."

"Bet that doesn't hurt your matryrdom any."

Raphael glared at him. "Don't start, Leo," he warned. "I didn't need to come halfway across the world to get laid. I could've done that in my own neighborhood." Leonardo looked away. "And it's just business," Raphael continued. "I don't have any intention of sleeping with her. I mean, it wouldn't hurt you to give me some credit."

Leo didn't answer. He'd be willing to bet that before this was over, Raphael would have slept with her. He tried to convince himself that he didn't care. As long as they got Donatello out, he didn't care what Raph did.

"Oh, yeah," Raph remembered. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "This was the guy Donny was talking to," he informed, handing it to Leo. "I don't think I've ever seen him before."

Leo unfolded the piece of paper and stared at the black and white printout of a man's head and shoulders. He could see his face clearly, but he knew he didn't recognize him either. "I thought about trying to get into Donny's computer and see who he was e-mailing," Leo mumbled. "But I know there's no way in hell I'm gonna get past his security codes."

"Yeah, that's probably a lost cause," Raph agreed.

"I was hoping maybe I'd recognize him, but I don't."

"Oh well," Raphael mumbled. "Probably wouldn't have told us anything anyway. Just a hunch."

Leonardo stood up and handed the picture back to Raph. "I think I'm going to bed," he informed. "I don't know where you've been staying the past few nights, but I don't care if you stay here. You're room's in one piece or you can sleep on the couch. Whatever you prefer."

"'K," Raph answered, studying the picture. "Night."

He stared at the picture for a long time, running through fuzzy memories. He couldn't explain why, but something inside of him told him that he knew this man. He just couldn't place him. He stared, unaware of the minutes as they passed, until he heard a door open.

He glanced first at the clock. It was almost eleven thirty. Then his eyes shot to the source of the interruption. Mica closed her door silently and looked around the dark room. Her purse was over her shoulder and she was dressed up. She was sneaking out. Leo was going to kill her.

"Don't do it."

Mica spun, shocked by the nearness of the voice. She nearly tripped on her high heeled shoes. "Omigod!"

Raphael watched her, arms crossed over his chest. She swallowed hard. He'd have to have a negative IQ to not know what she was doing. But he didn't speak, leaving her to make the next move. "Uh... do what?" she asked.

"Leo know you wear stuff like that?"

She shifted nervously. The dress was a lot shorter than Leo would allow, and she knew it. "If he doesn't, he's going to, I gather," she mumbled.

"Did I say that?" he grinned.

She looked up at him. Was he playing with her? He studied her figure for a long time, then stood up and walked over to her. "You know something, Mica?"

"What?" she asked nervously.

"You're a very pretty girl," he whispered, coming in close. She shrank back, intimidated. "And you're lookin' for trouble to go out dressed like that."

She glared at him and stepped away. "Look, it's not like I'm going to a bar, okay?"

"Who says you're going anywhere?" Raphael challenged.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Who says I'm not?" she shot back, finding some hidden boldness.

He studied her closely. "I won't stop you Mica," he informed. "You gotta go out and make your own mistakes. But I'm warning you. Any guy who looks at you is gonna see a nice piece of ass and nothing more."

She rolled her eyes. "Jeremy doesn't think of me like that."

"Don't think so?" he challenged.

"No."

He nodded slightly. "And I suppose you're the expert here on the way teenage guys think, right?"

"Normal teenage guys, yes," she retorted.

The words cut Raphael, and he stood still, his teeth clenched in quiet anger. "Do you have something else?" Mica asked after a moment of silence. Raph shook his head mutely and she opened the door. "Then good night."

He grabbed her purse as she turned away. Before she even had a chance to react, he had it open. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're...?"

She stopped as he pulled out a sandwich bag. Fear flooded through her, mixed equally with anger. Who did he think he was! She tensed as he held the bag up and stared at it. "What is this?" he demanded.

Her eyes shifted away from him, and she remained silent, clenching her jaw. "Is this coke?" he asked flatly.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

He opened the bag and studied the contents for a moment. He stuck the tip of his finger into the powder and just barely touched it to his tongue. He'd been taught not to do that, of course. But it was a plenty effective test even if it was dangerous.

She bit the inside of her lip and kept her eyes on the ground. He studied her for a moment. She wasn't lying. It wasn't cocaine. "Dinasty," he announced. "Right?"

"You're a cop. You tell me," she answered coldly.

"Hottest date rape drug since Ecstasy," he mused. "You wanna tell me where you got it?"

"It's not mine."

"I don't care whose it is. Where'd you get it?"

"I was holding it for someone."

He nodded slowly. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. "Look, I don't do drugs, okay?" she shot, turning to stare at him straight on. "I do a lot of things but drugs isn't one of them."

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted her. "If they find it on your person, you are looking at jail time. You know what that means?" She shifted her weight and rolled her eyes. "It means you go off to juvie. And what happens when they realize that you're different? It'd only take one strip-search, Mica."

"Oh, fuck you, Raph," she laughed. "Do you know how many times I've heard that? I can't have a life because I'm different, I gotta walk on eggshells because I'm different and I don't wanna piss anybody off because they might have some kind of connection with a scientist."

"Why?" he demanded, undeterred.

"Why what?"

"Why are you holding drugs for someone? Why take a risk like that?"

"Because they're my friends."

"They get busted and they're lookin' at jail time and therapy. You get busted and you're lookin' at death by experimentation."

"I won't get busted."

"I got news for you, baby, you just did."

"You're outta your jurisdiction," she answered smugly. "You can't arrest me."

"Sensei know your friends do drugs?"

She stared at him and slowly realized she'd totally missed his point. "You blackmailing me?"

"No," he answered. "I'm informing you of what I'm going to do."

"And what is that?"

"I think I've already made it clear."

She hesitated for a moment. "You're gonna tell Leo." He nodded once. She glared back at him. "Fine. Tell him. Knock yourself out. He'll lecture me, and I'll agree with him and say I was wrong and we won't talk about it again."

He sighed, remembering this song and dance. It had been a little different for him, all those years ago. But the attitude was the same. "Look, I don't know what kind of impression you're under about my relationship with Leonardo," she continued angrily. "But he doesn't like me and he really doesn't give a damn about me as long as I show up to practice on time. He took me in 'cause my mother went psycho, but he never wanted a kid."

"That's not true," Raph mumbled.

"How the hell would you know?"

"Because I know my brother."

Anger exploded inside of her. "Your brother?" she cried. "Who the hell says he's your brother? You were never related by blood, only by relationship! And you terminated that when you ran off to the other side of the country! Don't tell me how much you know him. I've spent the past fourteen years with him; where the fuck were you, Ryan?"

Raphael clenched his teeth and said nothing. She reached for the drugs, but he pulled them out of reach. "Fine," she growled. "Keep it. Ain't like we can't get more. Shit's cheap right now."

"We?" he challenged. "I thought you said you didn't use drugs."

"Maybe I lied," she snapped, smiling wickedly.

She spun away and he caught the door before it slammed shut in his face. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

"None of your fucking business."

"Don't make me follow you."

She turned and glared at him as she walked backward. "Just try it, jackass."

"You're gonna get raped," he warned, his voice emotionless. He'd seen this so many times, it wasn't even funny.

She laughed. "You're forgetting, Raphael. I've studied ninjutsu my whole fucking life, like it or not."

"Yeah, and you're carrying more than enough drugs in your pocket to knock you on your ass, training or not. Ever try to fight when you're high?"

"Have you?" she shot back.

"I never touched drugs."

"And neither do I."

"But you're around people who do."

"So were you," she reminded him. "Only difference is, I talk to them and you fucked them."

He clenched his teeth. The words were as strong as a physical blow. "Which is exactly what somebody's gonna do to you," he forced himself to answer.

"I told you, I don't do drugs."

"Not willingly," he agreed.

"What," she laughed, "you think someone can make me?"

He stared at her. Was she really as naive as she sounded? "Yes, I do."

"That what you did?"

"No," he answered coldly.

She snickered quietly. "Don't wait up."

"Mica..." he called after her. "I'm warning you."

She flipped him off as she walked away.

***

The music pulsed around her as she raised the drink to her lips slowly. The colors swirled on the walls and the house itself seemed alive. The air held a patently bad scent- a blend of alcohol, sweat, cigarettes, and pot. Mica looked around for any sign of Jeremy. As much as she wanted to be a part of this, she was bored and she didn't really know anyone here. She was ready to leave.

"Mica!"

She turned as a familiar voice called her name. "Dinah," she greeted with a smile. "I didn't see you here."

Dinah laughed. "This party is dying," she informed. "We gotta get it moving again."

Mica smiled. "What'd you have in mind?"

She smiled mysteriously and shrugged. "I dunno." She glanced around. "Where's Jeremy?"

Mica took another sip of her drink. She had passed the point where she'd developed a slight headache. She was buzzed and she knew it. In a way, it made her feel better. She was new to the concept of socializing. Leo-sensei had kept her secluded throughout her entire life. The alcohol mellowed her out, helped her to not think. Her whole life, she'd been trained to be suspicious of everyone, and Raphael's words didn't help ease her.

"I dunno," she mumbled. "I haven't seen him in, like, forever."

Dinah grinned. "I got an idea how we could kill two birds with one stone. If you think you're up to it."

Mica crossed her arms over her chest, careful not to spill her drink. "If I'm up to it?" she grinned. "That a dare?"

Dinah considered that for a moment. "Yeah," she smiled. "It's a dare."

"Bring it on," Mica challenged.

***

Jeremy looked up as the lights died all at once, as if they had blown a fuse. But the lights to the hallway, the one overlooking the living room, were still on. At the three inch railing, with no one near her, Mica was facing the crowd. She rocked her hips and kicked her legs up in time with the beats of the music. She somehow managed to maneuver her body so that she was sitting on the railing, her legs stretched out in front of her.

She leaned back and reached along the railing until she was lying down completely. She pressed her back to the railing and tipped her head back, running her fingers through her hair. Her back arched slightly, not enough to make her lose her balance, and she rose one leg, resting her shin on her opposite knee. Balancing perfectly, she arched further and sat up. She swung her legs to the side, over the living room instead of the hall. She perched carefully on the balls of her feet, resting on an inch of ledge.

Gripping the ledge behind her, she kicked both legs forward and immediately tensed the muscles in her arms, locking her elbows. She swung out over the crowd, then back, bringing her straightened legs close to her chest. She threw her weight to one arm and swung her legs around her and then straight up, her toes pointing to the ceiling. The skirt was tight enough that it didn't come up around her waist. But it seriously limited the movements she could make. She'd studied gymnastics most of her life, and the beam had always been her favorite, but she'd never tried it in clothes like this. At least not outside of a practiced combat sequence.

She brought her legs down on either side of the rail and Jeremy watched as the skirt rode nearly to her hip. She didn't seem to notice. She rolled her shoulders and his eyes followed her graceful arm movements. She swung around again to stand on the balcony.

His eyes were glued as she finished out the song in a dance that was more than a little provocative and ended, feet firmly planted on the floor and spread, her head down and hair hiding her face. A loud cheer rose from the crowd around him. He smiled to himself as she stepped back and took an exaggerated bow. Then he turned back to his conversation, leaving her to her drinking and new-found friends.

He did eventually catch up with her. But by that time, she was in no condition to discuss where she'd learned those moves. "You okay, baby?"

Mica moaned softly as the world spun around her. She'd been fine up until about five minutes ago. "I think... I don't know..." she slurred. "Maybe I... drank too much."

"You didn't drink hardly at all, sweetheart."

"Mmm," she acknowledged. "My..." The thoughts faded. "I... wanna go home... Jeremy."

He laughed quietly. "But baby, you just got here."

Did she? It seemed like she had been here for quite some time now. But maybe... Well, he was the one who was sober. He'd know better than she did. She leaned against him for support as her legs threatened to give out from underneath her. "Home..."

Jeremy brushed her hair away from her face and watched as she swooned. "Baby, if you go home smashed, you're never gonna hear the end of it. You know that."

But if I don't come home at all... The thoughts faded. The steady beats of the music pounded in her head and she let them overtake her. "... stay here... to relax..." The vaguely familiar voice brought no emotion. Sighed contentedly as she felt a strong arm circle her shoulders and lead her on a path she couldn't really see.

The room was dark. Jeremy lit a candle rather than turning the light on, and closed the door behind him. Mica leaned back against the wall, moaning slightly as her eyes slid shut. "Can you hear me, baby?"

"Mmm hmm..."

"Why don't you lay down?"