"Carnival" (Tori Amos), "Custard Pie"/Physical Graffiti (Led Zeppelin), "Heartbreaker" (Mariah Carey), "Too Legit to Quit" (MC Hammer), "Control" (Puddle of Mudd), "Ice Ice Baby"/"Ninja Rap" (Vanilla Ice), a black convertible. Please don't sue.
KATARINA:
"That's pathetic," I observed, watching the staged fight. Hollywood made an incredible show of martial arts. It wasn't even close to being believable.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Raphael's smug grin. I shot him a nasty look and he smiled back. "What's so amusing?" I asked cautiously. I wasn't fooling anyone, least of all myself. Raph still scared the crap out of me. But Leo was right about one thing: if I stayed out of his way, he stayed out of mine. This was the first time our paths had really crossed since I'd first arrived, and he hadn't spoken word one to me. But that look had said more than words ever could.
He shook his head, still smiling slyly. "You talk big," he informed me. "Can you do better?"
Donatello turned, shooting a questioning glance at Raph's challenge. I leaned back on the couch and crossed my arms over my chest. He was at ease, almost mellow. For the first time, I didn't feel threatened by him. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was drinking. I wondered what he was like when he was drunk, since a few beers seemed to mellow him out, rather than aggravate him. I would've guessed him to be an angry drunk, but maybe I'd been wrong.
"I could kick your ass," I grinned.
"Woah, Raph," Mike laughed. "Sounds to me like a challenge."
Raph and I locked stares. He was still smiling, as if he were amused by the idea. I couldn't really kick his ass, and I knew it. I had studied martial arts my entire life, but I was not ninja. I could hold my own, but eventually he'd wear me out. It could be fun, nevertheless. I was sort of surprised; the one who didn't want me here was the first one to invite me to the mat.
I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to make a move. He stood, finished his beer, and gestured toward the training room. "Let's go," he invited.
We faced each other on the mat, vaguely aware of Mike and Don standing along the wall, watching with amusement. You first, Raphael's eyes communicated.
No, I insist, I smiled back.
No further words, no thoughts, just movement. His hand lashed out, toward my face, and I knocked it aside. His other hand was already halfway to my sternum, the heel of his palm ready to connect. I reached my left hand to grab his right wrist and held on with a firm grip as I spun to the right. Had he been anyone else, I could have kicked him and used my grasp on his arm to throw him to the floor. But he saw it coming and I had to let go. If I hadn't, he could've snapped my wrist, since turning put me in a vulnerable position. The kick sliced through the air as he jumped back. He attacked again before I'd even come to a standstill and I dodged expertly.
It lasted nearly twenty minutes before I could feel myself wearing down. Twenty minutes in constant motion. It was the best workout I'd had in a long time. There was no thinking involved. There was no time for it. For twenty minutes, reflexes guided my very existence.
Then, I missed a beat. He dropped and swept my feet out from under me. Before I could even register what had happened, I was flat on my back, staring up at him. He gripped my wrists painfully on either side of my head as I gasped and tried to catch my breath. Instinctively, I struggled; it didn't even faze him. He was surprisingly strong. I stopped and stared up at him. His breathing came hard, but steady; his eyes sparked with hidden excitement. I waited for him to let me up, but he held me fast, reveling in his victory.
I studied him carefully as he held me down, fully expecting to feel fear at being this close to him. Moreover, he was holding me in a vulnerable position and I was powerless to do anything about it. Surprisingly, I discovered that I wasn't scared. There was a look in his eyes that I hadn't seen before. Maybe it hadn't been there. Or maybe it just took a close encounter like this to reveal it. His eyes were deep, hiding secrets that perhaps he himself didn't know. Eyes were the windows to the soul...
I could get lost in those eyes.
He didn't let me up, even as our breathing quieted. The vengeful smile fell and we stared at each other, inches apart. I felt his weight on me, holding me to the floor. He wasn't just keeping me from attacking him anymore. He knew I wouldn't.
"Hmm..." Don cut in. I started, having forgotten that he was watching. "Do I detect a hint of sexual tension in the room?"
Immediately, Raphael was on his feet. He pointed his finger at his brother. "Watch it, Donny," he threatened. "Or you'll be next."
I sat up slowly as Raph pushed his way past his smiling brothers and vanished. I watched him leave, still stunned by what I had seen.
SHREDDER:
She sat on the windowsill, staring out the open window into the night. A glass of something carbonated was in her delicate fingers, resting on her bent knee. She ran her finger up and down as drops of condensation trickled down the glass. I watched her, mildly amused by the far-away look in her eyes. She didn't know I was here.
She leaned her head back against the window frame and sighed deeply, deep in thought. "You look much like your mother."
She jumped, springing to her feet as the glass slipped from her fingers. She clutched the robe surrounding her tightly as the glass hit the floor and shattered, spilling clear, fizzing liquid all over the tile. It pooled at her feet as she breathed hard, startled. "I..." she stammered, bowing her head respectfully. "I didn't hear you come in."
I nodded in return. That much was evident. She swallowed hard, still clutching the robe with white knuckles. Her face had flushed red, though she tried to hide it by keeping her head down. "What, uh," she choked. "What can I do for you?"
I approached her slowly and saw her tense. "Tell me what you were thinking," I suggested.
She didn't move. She made no attempt to answer. She cast her eyes to the floor as I came closer. My presence intimidated her. I knew that. "Some fantasy I should know about?"
"No," she lied, her eyes remaining downcast.
I studied her carefully. There was no question that she wasn't being honest. I decided not to make her admit what I already knew. "You must do something for me," I informed her.
She nodded obediently, but said nothing.
MICHAELANGELO:
I was laying on my bed, reading comic books in the dim light from a candle, when I heard a tinkling music start from the living room. It was quiet and unintrusive, but I immediately knew I was going to have to investigate. I was far too nosy to ignore the unfamiliar sound.
I opened the door silently and slipped out into the room. Kat stood at the CD changer, her head back and her arms crossed gracefully over her chest. She turned and swayed with the slow, gentle music, running her hands over her body as she raised them above her head. I watched, interested. She thought she was alone. And with reason, since Donny and Leo were both out and Raph and I had gone "to bed" almost three hours ago.
She buried her fingers in her hair and hugged her arms across her chest, rolling her shoulders as she bent her knees and lowered herself halfway to the floor. I sing to the sun in the sky...
I recognized the song. It was by Tori Amos, but I couldn't think of what it was called. At any rate, it was far less interesting than the girl who was dancing to it. Rising again, Kat opened her eyes and turned to see me. I tensed. I hadn't really meant to be spying on her, and I hoped she wouldn't get mad.
She wasn't mad. She smiled warmly at me and held her hands out in an invitation, still swaying back and forth gently. I shook my head, smiling back. "I don't know how," I explained.
She approached me gracefully and took my hands in hers, pulling me into the open space in the room. She guided one of my hands around her waist and held the other, raising it to the side. She rested her head on my shoulder and swayed back and forth. I couldn't help but move with her, but I felt awkward. I'll sing while he plays his guitar...
I rocked back and forth in a set, steady movement. Then, over her shoulder, I saw Raphael. I wasn't sure when he had opened the door to his room. But he was standing in the frame, a bottle of beer in his hand, watching with apparent amusement. Kat turned her head and saw him, but turned back to me. Uneasy and still feeling like I was going to trip over my own two feet, I wanted him to take over. But I didn't say anything. Luckily, I didn't have to.
He approached, still holding the bottle, and I stepped back from Kat. She looked up at me, questioning, and then saw Raphael. He held out his free hand and I took another step back. Kat smiled at him and took his invitation, grabbing the drink from his other hand. She raised it to her lips and I watched, shocked, as she tilted it upside down, draining half of it. Raph stared at her for a moment, mirroring my surprise.
She turned her attention back to him and draped her arms over his shoulders. She held the bottle behind his head as he slipped both hands around her waist. She rolled her shoulders, rubbing against him, and he moved in perfect rhythm with her. I watched, interested. I never knew Raph could dance. Not that I had ever asked him. But it shocked me, for some reason.
They didn't just rock back and forth, they melted into each other, each movement an extension of the last. Will true love come my way on this magical day... The song got quiet, in anticipation of the increased tempo to come. Kat brought the beer to her lips again, finished the rest of it, and dropped the empty bottle on the couch next to her. Or will love only live in my...
She met the increased pace with passion. Raph reacted. She raised her arms over her head and he ran his hands over her sides. She continued to sway, faster now, more seductive. She rubbed hard against his leg and turned so that he was at her back. His hands circled her waist, catching on her T-shirt as she lowered herself a few feet and raised back up. She tilted her head back, resting it on his shoulder, and he ran his fingers over her throat.
He breathed on her neck and I almost expected him to do more, but he didn't. They danced dirty, and I was confused by the fact that this was the girl that he and Leo had been fighting about. He hated her. How could he dance like that with her? I remembered Donny's comment about the sexual tension when they had sparred and smiled. He didn't know how right he was!
The passion of the song increased. She breathed hard, incorporating her gasps into her movements. The instruments mimicked her. Raphael's hands trailed down her body, over her hips to her legs. Then, abruptly, it was over. The song cut out in the midst of the orgasm and left the two of them standing, pressed against each other. She breathed hard for a moment. They pulled away slowly in the momentary silence and another song started. I didn't recognize it. It wasn't by Tori Amos, though. She must have put more than one CD in.
I said nothing as she and Raph looked at each other for a moment. She leaned over the couch and picked up the empty bottle, holding it out to him. "I drank your beer," she confessed.
He smiled. "I see that."
She grinned back. "I'm sorry."
"S'okay. I've got more."
"Really?" she challenged. "How much more?"
He eyed her suspiciously as she began to sway to this new song. It wasn't slow, it wasn't seductive. It was a fun song, though I couldn't tell who it was by. It was mostly electronic mixing, not a lot of words. She smiled as she started to dance again and turned to me. She held out her hand, beckoning silently. Raph turned and headed toward the kitchen as she wrapped herself in my arms and began to move back and forth.
Raphael returned a moment later with a six pack of beer, a dark-colored bottle of liquor, and a pitcher of what looked like orange juice. He set the collection on the end table and walked away again. Kat danced over to the table and picked up the tall bottle, inspecting it. "Ninety proof?" she laughed as Raph returned. "You're serious about this drinking thing, aren't you?"
He shrugged and handed her a glass. She poured liquor it into the orange juice and swirled it. Then she poured the mixture into the glass. She took a sip, then turned and offered it to me. I eyed it suspiciously, making no attempt to take it.
"He doesn't drink," Raph informed her.
She glanced at him, then back at me, still holding the glass out. I wasn't necessarily agreeing. I was willing to try it. Hesitantly, I took it out of her hand. "You don't have to," she assured me.
I raised the glass to his lips and sipped it. It was orange juice, but there was another taste mingled in it. A sweet, strong taste. Surprisingly, it was really good. I didn't like beer, and somewhere along the line, I'd gotten the impression that all alcohol tasted like that. But this was good. Kat smiled and grabbed a beer out of the six pack. The song changed again.
"Led Zeppelin?" Raph asked. "I wouldn't have guessed you were a Led Zeppelin fan."
"Not a fan, persé," she corrected. "But I like some of their songs. I like this album."
"Physical Graffiti, right?"
"Yeah."
They talked about a topic I knew nothing about. It didn't matter. I was content to just stand here and sip at this new concoction. Kat raised her arms above her head and swayed her hips back and forth. She set the opened bottle on the table and grabbed Raph's wrist. He didn't hesitate. I watched them with amusement.
Kat almost backed into me and I tried to jump back. She reached behind her and ran her fingers over my shoulder before turning to face me. I moved with her, trying to match her movements, not really succeeding. "Don't try," she instructed. "Just listen to the words of the song."
"I don't understand the words of the song," I admitted.
"That's probably a good thing," Raph grinned.
Through the next couple of songs, Katarina taught me how to dance.
KATARINA:
I rolled my shoulders with my hips, rubbing up against him. Already a little buzzed, he stepped past his self-imposed boundaries and I felt his hands slip around my waist. Not nearly so experienced, or so bold, as Raph, I coaxed him to movement. Heartbreaker, you got the best of me... But I just keep on coming back...
"You sing good," he slurred.
I hadn't realized I was singing out loud. I smiled as I ran my hands up his arms. I felt Raph approach behind me and place his hands on my shoulders. I raised my arms above my head and felt him press in close, moving to my rhythm. Mikey backed off and I turned to face Raphael. "I should've known right from the start you'd go and break my heart..."
Raph wore me out, and I was not exactly virgin to dancing. We danced through one song and drank through the next. I needed time to recuperate, after all. Occasionally, as he drank more, Mikey would step up. I welcomed him, and Raph would take the opportunity to mix more drinks. We had already gone through an entire bottle of liquor and two six packs. I was surprised I wasn't flying.
"So you two gonna keep me up all night?" Mikey asked as Raph and I parted and I wandered back to the table where I'd left my drink.
I glanced at him. "No, we'll shut all this down when you go to sleep," I assured.
"Or when Leo comes home," Raph added. "Whichever happens first."
I smiled at the thought. Yes, Leonardo would probably have a heart attack if he walked in now. Mike was more than a little drunk, and I was getting pretty close. Raph... well, Raph was still okay. I was sure Leo would find something wrong with him, though. Perhaps just that he was being a "bad influence" on me. I had to laugh at that. Poor Leo. He was a great guy, but he didn't have a clue.
"Tha's not what I meant."
I looked at Raph. He looked at Mike. "And what, exactly, did you mean?" he questioned.
Mikey smiled. "Just that th'two a you look like yer ready to git it on right here in the living room. I can't guess was gonn' happen when I go ta bed."
I smiled, holding my glass in front of my lips. He was so smashed. He probably wouldn't remember half of this tomorrow. "Hate to tell you this, bro, but it's only dancing," Raph answered, tipping his beer again.
"Is it?" I teased.
He shot me a warning look and I stuck my tongue out at him. He knew I was kidding. At least, he'd better know I was kidding.
"You know, we're all gonna have one hell of a hangover in the morning if we keep this up," he informed me.
I looked at the table, surprised by just how much alcohol we had consumed. "Yes we are," I agreed.
He laughed under his breath as the song changed again. Mike choked on his drink and Raphael and I laughed. "MC Hammer?" he gasped. "You have MC Hammer?"
I wasn't sure why he was surprised by that. Half of the songs I had played were from the early nineties. But then I remembered, he was drunk. I was surprised he was aware enough to distinguish that this was MC Hammer.
"Too legit to quit," Raph mumbled, recognizing the words to the song.
"You remember those little hand tricks that used to go with this song?" I asked.
Raph smiled, but didn't answer. He was getting buzzed, I could tell. So was I, for that matter. In fact, I'd been a little out of it for the past half hour.
Mike stumbled to his feet and I drank deeply from the glass. I finished the drink, wondered what number it was, and stood up to meet him. "Reminds me of my early clubbing days," I mumbled, listening to the lyrics. "Although I was too young to be half-drunk back then."
"I never went clubbing," Mike informed me.
"Really?" I asked, shocked. Raph shot me a pathetic look from his comfortable-looking position on the couch and I smiled sheepishly as I considered the thought. "Oh, yeah. Guess it would be hard."
Mike took my hands as I began to move with the music, swaying my hips. "So where'd you learn how to dance Raph?" I asked as I raised my arms, taking Mike's hands with me. He didn't answer.
Mikey wasn't holding back anymore. It was rather amusing, actually. He ran his fingers down my arms and moved with me. He actually wasn't a bad dancer when he let go. I just had to get him drunk to make him let go.
As the song came to a close, I wondered what was going to play next. I had five different CDs in there, and they all had different songs on them, from various artists. The song began with a violent-sounding electric guitar and drums. Mike took a step back, laughing. "Come on, Raph, this one's definitely more you than it is me."
The hard electric guitar and drums echoed off the high ceiling. Raphael looked up. I glanced at him and raised my eyebrows. He polished off a shot as he stood up and walked over to me, holding out his arms in invitation. I stepped close to him, feeling his hands circle my waist. We moved to the same rhythm and I breathed hard, a reaction to the alcohol, the excitement, and the exhaustion. "I love the way you look at me," he sang quietly, almost silently.
Raph singing. Yep. He was drunk. But surprisingly, he actually didn't sound that bad.
"I feel the pain you place inside..."
You lock me up inside your dirty cage... Well, I'm alone inside my mind... I mouthed the words as I felt his hands run down my sides.
"I like to teach you all the rules," he continued. I tilted my head back as I rubbed against him. "I get to see them set in stone..."
I looked back at him and felt his movements control mine. We were so close, we were breathing air right out of each other's mouths. I felt lightheaded, still tasting the sharp alcohol in the back of my throat. His hands roamed over me as I swayed lower to the ground. I stepped back as I rose again and he didn't try to follow me. I raised my arms over my head and felt the hard beats of the music. I was way too drunk to headbang, but I could move the rest of my body.
I didn't really know what he was doing while I lost myself in the depths of the song. I didn't really care. When I opened my eyes, I found him nearer than I expected him to be. That was okay. But I wondered whether it was him or me who had taken the step forward.
"I love the way you look at me," I whispered.
"I love the dirty things you do when I have control of you."
What little space there was between us was electrified. Our lips were inches apart. The urge was...
I snapped out of it just before I connected, shocked and horrified by my own impulses. What the hell was I doing? Just dancing. And that was all I wanted it to be. What was wrong with me?
I was drunk. I was officially smashed. I could feel the alcohol surge through my veins. My pulse pounded as the song ended and I found myself centimeters from kissing him. His hand was buried in my hair and I could feel my chest heaving against his. There was a moment of tense silence as we waited for the next song. I brought my eyes to meet his and saw... something.
I couldn't identify it. Suddenly, I wished I wasn't so smashed. What was he thinking? Had he done this? He must have done it, because I sure as hell didn't. Dirty dancing was one thing, but this... this was something totally different altogether. This was getting out of hand.
But he backed away as if nothing had happened, leaving me to wonder if anything really had. I was confused, and I knew it was because of the alcohol. But the fact that he was not drunk enough yet to let me do anything I would regret... that comforted me. I watched him grab more alcohol and found myself wondering what might have happened if he weren't still somewhat sober. Would he have tried anything with me? I really hoped he wouldn't.
"Back to the early 90s, huh?" Mike laughed as Vanilla Ice consumed the air around us.
"Hey, some of the best dance songs were written in the early 90s," I defended, grabbing my glass off the table. I raised it to my lips and tasted the sweet liquid. Raph smiled, leaning against the back of the couch as Mike, standing behind me, took hold of my hips and moved me with the music.
I held the glass in one hand and placed the other on his. He grabbed my shoulder and turned me to face him. I closed my eyes as we danced and listened to the lyrics of the song, singing them when I could muster the breath. Vanilla Ice. Whatever happened to him? Suddenly, a thought came to mind. I remembered a club I had visited years ago. Vanilla Ice had emceed that party. A party that made the front page of the paper the next day. I had that album... I even had it with me.
I pulled away from Mike and downed the rest of the drink I was holding. Then I walked over to the CD changer and programmed a new song into the mix. "Whaddaya doin'?" Mike asked.
I didn't answer him. But as the song stopped and a new one began, I knew I wouldn't have to. The sound of a whistle, and an electronic mix, and Mike's eyes got wide. "Oh, geez," Raphael laughed.
"Hey, I know this song!" Mikey said.
I laughed. "You should!" I informed him, taking his hands and pulling him to his feet. "It was written in your honor!"
"He actually recorded this?" Raph asked
I nodded. "You didn't know?"
Yo, it's the green machine... gonna rock the town without bein' seen...
"I haven't heard this song since..."
He didn't finish. He didn't have to. "You know, this is a bit of an ego trip," Mike informed me as I stood between him and Raph.
I laughed and began to move with the music. Memories of that night, where I had just happened to see their debut, gave me a new high, drowning out the alcohol. Ninja... Ninja Rap... Go ninja, go ninja, go... I felt the energy surge through me, radiating from my fingertips. Drunk and exhausted, we all knew this was the finale. And we gave it our all.
LEONARDO:
I feel the hot water sting my shoulders and neck, pounding hard on the sore, overworked muscles. I've spent a lot of time sparring over the past week. Whenever I was not at Splinter's side, I hit the mat with whoever would take me on. Most of the time, it was Raph. Most of the time, it was brutal. Anger and frustration, at the world as much as each other, vented in a fury of motion. We never spoke. Words were never necessary. Raph spends his days in practice, his nights in the bars, and his mornings on the streets after the bars closed. I don't know when he sleeps. I doubt he does.
Where are my brothers? Raphael is probably drunk, maybe with whatever new girlfriend he has now. Who knows what he's feeling, or not feeling, at the moment. He had cut himself off from all of us, including Splinter. He didn't care, when he was dying. Didn't even care enough to come to his side and hear his last request. He showed up to bury him with a hangover, and disappeared without so much as a word when it was over. Anger wells up inside of me, burning the backs of my eyes.
Donatello had remained at the burial site. He was probably still there, hours later, kneeling in the grass underneath the huge oak tree. We'd laid our father in the woods behind April's farm house. We figured it was safe, and it was proper.
Michaelangelo... I have no idea where he is. He's probably at home, alone, drowning in the sounds of hard rock music in an attempt to cancel out his tears. He's crying. I can feel him crying. I can feel the hearts of my brothers breaking, throughout the state. And I feel my own tears run, mingling with the steaming water that streams over my face.
I'm out of the shower. She's asleep on the couch. I lean over the back of the sofa and look down at her. She is wearing a dark green nightgown... or maybe it's a robe... that covers her feet, it's so long. I can't see the front of it, because she's hunched over and curled into a ball, her face away from the back of the couch. Her blond hair rests lightly on her face, and I brush it back gently to see her closed eyes. She is so beautiful. It's sad that she doesn't believe that.
She breathes slow and deep onto her hands, which are partially under her head. Her fluttering eyelashes tell me she's dreaming, but it isn't a nightmare. The look on her face is quiet, peaceful.
Peace.
I run my finger down the side of her face and wonder what she's thinking, what she's dreaming. She moans quietly and her eyelids slowly open. I smile, momentarily forgetting my pain as I see her innocent expression. "What are you doing?" I ask quietly. "You should be in bed, not out here."
"Oh, I..." she slurs, sitting up. "I didn't mean to..."
She glances up at me and I smile at her unexplained embarrassment. She smiles back and runs her fingers lightly over the side of my face. The touch sends sparks through me, but she doesn't realize it. She doesn't know how much she means to me. She would be shocked by my emotions; just as shocked as I had been the first time I felt them. I didn't fight them now. I couldn't fight them. I close my eyes and breathe deep, feeling her palm press to my cheek. When I open them again, she's staring at me with a look of surprise.
"You...?" she starts. But she doesn't finish. I don't press her.
For a long time, neither one of us says a word. Her face softens, the shocked look still hiding behind her eyes. I feel an overpowering urge to kiss her, but I hold back. She's said nothing to give me permission to do that.
Then, as unexpectedly as it had begun, the moment is over. She pulls away and stands up, gathering the robe around her. The tie is missing, and underneath it, I can see a hint of sheer, black fabric. "Stay here tonight, Leo," she invites casually, keeping her eyes away from mine. "I mean, you're welcome to stay as long as you want so..."
She walks past me, still looking away, and I catch her arm, silently begging her not to leave. I want to bring that moment back, when she stared into my eyes and laid a foundation between us. She stops walking, her hair hiding her face. After a long silence, she looks back at me. Inches away, I can see a hidden longing in her blue-green eyes. It isn't words, but it's still permission.
I turn her to me and let go of her arm, finding her hand. She slips her fingers into mine, and I feel her press close to me. Her lips meet mine and I feel warmth flood through me as our bodies melted together, a desperate longing sealing our fates. I'd never been kissed before. Not like that. The feeling is indescribable...
It was almost noon, and the only one I'd seen so far was Donatello. No, come to think of it, I'd seen Mike, too. I saw him briefly as he stumbled to the bathroom. He was sick, and I left him alone. I didn't really care if Raphael spent the entire day in bed. It was better than listening to him argue with me.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on the darkness. I ran through the kata slowly, paying close attention to every detail. I breathed deep, and suddenly felt a presence in the room. I opened my eyes and turned to see Kat leaning against the door frame. She looked terrible. "You okay?" I asked instinctively, noticing the dark rings under her eyes.
She nodded and rubbed her forehead. "I got a killer headache," she whispered. "Do you have any asprin?"
"Yeah, sure, in the kitchen."
I led the way and produced the bottle of painkillers. She took it gratefully. "You sick, too?" I asked, wondering if she would lie to me.
She shook her head. The movement seemed to cause her a great deal of pain, and she stopped, moaning as she held her temples. "I... I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
She downed the pills and a glass of water, then forced a smile. "I'm alright, really. How are you?"
I sighed. "Tired," I mumbled.
"What time did you get to bed last night?"
"Late."
"Yeah, you still weren't home when I crashed, and that was almost two." She inspected me carefully. "Madonna back in town already?" she teased.
"I wish," I mumbled, placing the pills back in the cabinet.
She smiled. "That the problem?"
I glanced at her and crossed my arms over my chest. "What?"
"Can't sleep even when you lay down?"
Either she saw right through me, or she was speaking from personal experience. Either way, there was no point in trying to deny what she already knew. I said nothing. "She'll be back soon," she assured me.
"I know," I shrugged. "And I'll live. I've gone longer than this without seeing her."
She filled the glass again with water. "Oh, believe me, I know," she told me.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
She smiled and cringed at the same time, raising her hand to her forehead. "She didn't hear from you one night and she'd be all worried."
I smiled at the thought. "Really?"
"Yeah. And two nights? Oh, god help me."
I laughed. "I never would've thought that."
She stared at me with a shocked look on her face. "You're kidding right? She's incredibly hung up on you."
I nodded slowly. "Nice to know."
She looked away and her eyes closed. "Ah, my head!" she moaned, massaging her temples.
I leaned back against the counter. "That's what happens when you finish off every drop of alcohol in the house," I chastised. "Especially since I know how much Raph usually keeps around."
She smiled faintly. "So, you already know," she mumbled.
"It wasn't hard."
"Raph tell you?"
"No, the smell of alcohol, the absence of beer in the fridge, and three hungover people in the place told me."
She moaned. "Oh, god. Mike." She laughed quietly. "He's gotta be pretty bad. He's never gotten drunk before."
"I know," I informed her, my voice monotone.
She stopped and looked at me. "Are you mad?"
I shrugged. "Not at you."
"At Raph?"
I hesitated. She placed a hand on my shoulder. "Don't be mad at him. It was my fault, really. And I'm sorry about Mike, if that bothers you."
I sighed and shook my head. "He's old enough to make his own decisions."
She forced a smile and her hand fell from my arm. "Okay. Well, I think I'm gonna go lay down."
I nodded and she turned away. "Oh," she remembered, turning back to me. "I have some stuff to take care of tonight, so don't freak out when I'm gone, 'k?"
I nodded and she turned her back to me again. "Kat?" I asked as she left the room.
She turned slowly to face me again. "Yeah?"
"You and Raph aren't...?" I started.
She smiled. "No, Leo," she assured me.
I breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."
"But would it bother you if we were?"
I studied her carefully, stunned by the question. "I don't want to see you get hurt, Kat."
She nodded. "I understand."
Without another word, she turned away.
