Disclaimer: As usual, don't own the turtles or any of the mirage characters, sadly enough.
A/N: The idea for this story came to me when my mom got a message from her doctor to slow down. She's extremely pregnant and might risk loosing her baby if she overstrains herself. So she turned to her family for help (us three oldest kids and my dad). Of course we agreed to help her (I mean c'mon - she's pregnant for Pete's sake) so she hands over this huge list of the things she does around the house. We're left alone to decide on who does what, and - well you guessed it - the whole thing was a complete disaster. However, I figured it would make a great story, so at least something good came out of it, right?
With that said, I would like to thank my overworked mother for inspiring me to write this story. Hope you all enjoy it, and don't forget to review.
DEPUTY HOUSEKEEPERS
by
Mickis
Genre: General/Humor
Language: English
Censor: PG13 (better to be safe than sorry, right?)
Summary: April's fed up with Splinter having to clean up after his four sloppy sons, and encourage him to write them a list of chores. Splinter's list comes out a lot longer than expected, and our heroes learn what it really means to master your environment.
Chapter 1 - "It can't be that bad."
April climbed down the ladder to the turtles' entrance, skipping the last two steps. Her heels clicked against the concrete floor once she landed, making her arrival official. The lair seemed empty, since no one came to greet her, or search her for any food, and April's eyes suspiciously travelled across the open space known as the 'living room'. It was quiet - alarmingly quiet.
"Guys?"
The subway station was never this peaceful, at least not if her green friends were around. She held her plastic bag in her right hand, letting her other hand travel down the iron-banisters as she descended the stairs leading to the main platform.
"Miss O'Neil," the old rat greeted, peeking up from behind the scruffy couch.
"Woah!" the brunette shrieked at his sudden appearance. She placed her left hand on her chest in an attempt to slow down her hysterical heart, which by know was halfway through its own drum solo. Once she realized it was only Splinter, her breathing calmed down, as did the drums. "I'm sorry, you scared me," she breathed, removing her hand from her chest and walking closer to her old friend.
The rat nodded in understanding, before disappearing behind the couch again.
"I thought you were a burglar or something," April explained.
"In the sewer?" Splinter popped his head up, his ears pointing upwards in puzzlement.
April realized her mistake and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess there's no need for an alarm system down here." She curiously peeked over the old couch, finding the old ninja master on all four. "What are you doing down there?"
"Cleaning," the rat explained as he reached in under the sofa with his arm.
"Well.." April didn't like the idea of the old man on the floor. "You want me to help?"
"That will not be necessary," Splinter said as he grabbed his wooden cane and rose to his feet, revealing leftovers from an old pizza slice in his paw. "I have it."
"You really think you should be doing that?" April questioned, her eyes following a pair of flies floating around the shrivelled piece of food, if you could even call it that.
The rodent's furry eyebrows shot up in wonder.
"I mean.." April awoke from her stare. "Shouldn't the others take care of that?" She pointed to the matter at hand, her face twisting in disgust.
An amused smile broke out on Splinter's hairy features. "I appreciate your concern, Miss O'Neil," he said, bowing slightly. "But I am afraid teenagers have an irreversible habit of leaving things around themselves."
"Yeah.. the memory from when you stayed at my apartment's still fresh," she frowned slightly, looking back on the mess she came home to everyday when all six of them lived under the same roof. If she had a penny for every time she tripped over their stuff when paying her nightly visits to the bathroom... well, let's just say Oprah Winfrey wouldn't be the richest woman alive.
Splinter smiled at his guest, admiring the patience she had with his four sons. They had taken the term 'make yourself at home' a little too serious, and certainly used her hospitality to its outmost possible. Still, she had never asked them to leave, oddly enough.
"But don't you think they're old enough to clean up after themselves?" She stared intently at the old father.
"I agree," Splinter nodded. "They have been old enough for quite some time now, only they choose to ignore my instructions out of comfort." Splinter excused himself and went inside the kitchen sub-car to throw out the piece of rotten food he sadly still held in his hand.
April stayed by the couch, clutching the bag of DVD's in her hand. "You want me to talk to them?" she called into the kitchen.
"You needn't worry, Miss O'Neil," the answer came from the sub-car.
The stubborn reporter followed him into the kitchen, where she found him by the sink, sorting out piles of dishes. "Are you sure?" she asked, stopping in the doorway. "Because they're more than capable of cleaning up after themselves."
Splinter rolled up his sleeves and began to fill the sink with water. "I am sure," he replied, glancing over his shoulder before grabbing a dirty plate and dropping it into the pool of water. He used the old dish-brush to scrub off the dried food, only to accidentally send a piece of waterlogged cereal onto his face. His ears noticeably stroked backwards in irritation as he wiped his cheek clean with the back of his hand.
"Well, then at least let me help you," April offered, leaving the bag on the messy table and walking up to stand beside the old rat.
Splinter nodded to express his gratitude as he handed her the clean plate. April washed it off underneath the tap, before placing it on the dish drainer. The two of them continued in the same manner, Splinter washing the plates in the almost brown water, while April washed off the traces of the washing-up liquid, adding the object to the tower of porcelain.
Soon the two of them were finished, and April wiped the table with the dish-cloth while Splinter enjoyed the luxury of sitting down and doing nothing.
"I still think you should talk to them," April said, hanging the dish-cloth over the tap when she was done.
"Perhaps you are right," Splinter considered, his expression thoughtful.
April leaned her back against the counter, smiling victoriously. "I know I am. In fact, why don't you write them a list of the chores you do, and then let them decide between each other how to divide them."
The old rodent thought for a minute before looking up at his helpful guest. "I will take your proposal under consideration."
April smiled in response, happy to have made some impact on her tired friend. The poor guy deserved some rest, and it was about time the turtles grew up.
The peaceful silence was however rudely interrupted by the four mentioned teenagers' return. Their happy voices chattered loudly, none of them listening to what the others had to say, as they walked into the living room.
April exited the kitchen to find out what her irresponsible friends were up to. All but Donatello had settled on the couch, and they instantly turned their heads in her direction once realizing she was there.
"April!" Michelangelo exclaimed happily, Leonardo and Raphael wincing beside him as his painfully loud voice numbed several of their senses. "What's cooking, dudette?"
"Just dropping by," she replied. "Oh, and I brought the DVD's I mentioned earlier."
All four faces lit up instantly, forgetting about the boring patrol they had just had.
"Alright!" Mike cheered, jumping up from the couch with a single question plastered on his face.
"They're in the kitchen," April revealed, stepping up to hog the spot he left behind on the couch. Leonardo and Raphael politely moved over to make room for her.
The orange masked turtle almost ran his father over on his way to the kitchen, and Splinter's whiskers twitched in annoyance as he entered the main room, holding onto his wooden cane as if it was a security blanket. April turned to Raphael who rolled his eyes over his brother's behaviour, something people usually did around Mike.
"Awesome! You brought 'Weekend at Bernie's'!" Mikey ecstatically called from the kitchen.
" ' Weekend at Bernie's'?" Donatello frowned from behind the couch. "C'mon Mikey, it's so childish. A couple of idiots dragging around some corpse on the beach? I mean that's just--"
"Ooh! 'Chicken Run'," Mike interrupted his brother's ranting, while looking through the bag.
"Really?!" Don squealed happily, hurrying inside the kitchen to have a closer look at the movie.
Leonardo shared a small smile with April, who had already forgotten that she was mad at them for making their old father clean up after their lazy asses.
While Mike and Don investigated the bag further, Splinter took a seat in his chair, resting his cane against its side. "Everything went well?" he asked, looking at his two remaining sons.
"Yes, master," Leo informed. "It was very calm tonight, and the only thing we came across was a purse snatcher."
Splinter nodded in approval, leaning slightly deeper into his chair.
"So what did you do?" Raph asked, reaching for the remote control on the old coffee table.
"I used the time you were absent to clean up the kitchen," Splinter replied, silently recalling the tower of dishes they had left.
April, who immediately remembered how pissed off she was, sent the turtle in red one of her infamous looks. It was the same glare a big sister would give her little brother when finding out he had read her secret diary.
Raph felt her eyes bore into him and turned around with a confused look on his face. "What?" he exclaimed, his voice claiming innocence to whatever she was about to accuse him of.
"Aren't you gonna apologize?" she asked, doing her very best to keep her temper in check.
"What for?" Raph wondered, sharing a confused glance with his brother in blue.
This only infuriated the Homo Sapien even more, and she tiredly shook her head, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You honestly don't know?" She glared at Raphael, waiting for his coin to drop.
Raph silently thanked God for not giving him any sisters, because women were clearly missing something in the head office. One moment they could be the sweetest thing alive, and then the next, turn into Satan's long lost daughter. He figured it was a result of watching too many shows like 'Dr Phil'. Because only a woman would take his bullshit seriously. "No, I don't," he finally answered, preparing himself for the worst.
April grunted in frustration, realizing all men were the same - no matter what specie.
"April," Leo carefully asked, putting a hand on her tense shoulder. "What's wrong?"
April turned to look at Leo, who just like Raph, had a confused look in his eyes. "Do you really think it's fair that your father has to clean up after you?" she outburst, her arms waving in the air to make her point. Leo's baffled expression remained frozen, and April turned to Raphael, who even he seemed lost. "Don't you think you're old enough to clean up after yourselves?"
There was a moment of silence, where Raph wished he could still crawl into his shell like he did when he was little. "...Sure," he finally said, not being able to think of anything else. There were very few people in the world that were able to make him speechless, and April was obviously one of them, or at least her femaleish temper.
Splinter noticed how Donatello and Michelangelo's chatter quieted down in the kitchen, and assumed they must have heard April, just like the rest of New York.
"When I came down here, your father was crawling on the floor, looking for something that could've only been a really old pizza slice," April continued, this time not as loud as before.
"Hey, don't blame me," Raph said, holding up his hands to prove his innocence. "That's Mike's department."
Everyone turned their gaze to the kitchen door, waiting for the guilty to confess his crime. However, there were no sight of any orange turtles, or his purple brother for that matter, since only silence followed Raphael's statement.
"Michelangelo," April finally said, intently staring at the kitchen door.
"Yeah..?" a humble voice came from inside, where both chickens hid, hoping that if they didn't speak no one would remember they were there. Their brilliant plan had obviously failed.
"Come here," the reporter ordered, her eyes locked on the door way.
There was a muffled objection from Donatello, who instantly protested when Mike tried to drag him with him, not wanting to take the fall alone. But a few seconds later they both appeared in the living room, Don walking a few steps behind his stiff brother.
"Yeah?" Mikey used his best smile, hoping it would charm April and make her forget about why she was mad.
"You think it's fair Splinter has to clean up after you?" Her eyes pierced into his.
Mike knew it was one of those questions you had to answer carefully. "No," he replied.
"What about you, Donatello?" she specifically emphasised his entire name to express her anger extra clear. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself?"
"..Yes," Don managed to let out, his eyes nervously glancing around the room.
April scowled each one of them. "So you're going to change, then?" It wasn't much of a question.
"Of course," Leo answered, glancing at his master, who - if he wasn't mistaken - seemed to enjoy himself. Because even if he wasn't smiling, he could still catch the sadistic spark in his eyes, which wasn't like his loving father at all. "I'm sorry, master," he apologized, bowing his head in respect.
"Apology accepted," Splinter nodded, as the rest of his sons said their 'I'm sorry's'.
April's stance relaxed as her friends had stepped up to their mistake and apologized to their master, but there was still one thing left on her mind. She turned to Splinter. "I still think you should write them that list," she said, causing four pairs of confused eyes to look at her.
"What list?" Mikey asked, almost a little frightened.
April ignored him and kept her eyes locked on the resident rat. "If you want, I can help you," she offered.
"That will not be necessary, Miss O'Neil," Splinter replied. "However I will take your advice and put together a list of chores."
"A list of chores?" Mike once again voiced his worry, while the other three exchanged fearful glances. Whatever list that had the word 'chores' in it, did not bode well.
"Yes," Splinter confirmed, turning to Michelangelo. "Miss O'Neil here kindly advised me to write you a list of the things that need to be done here, to learn you the importance of responsibilities, and perhaps even allow myself a break."
"Really? She did?" Raph questioned, turning his dark eyes to April. "How very nice of 'er.."
April realized she wasn't going to be on their popular list from here on, but she didn't care. Splinter deserved his rest, and they would come around soon enough - they always did.
"Well, in that case," she said, rising from the couch, not wanting to sit in between Leo and Raph any longer, now that they had decided not to like her. "I better leave you to it." The room remained silent, all four turtles glaring at her. "I'll just show myself out," she mumbled, stepping in between Raphael's legs and the coffee table. A few seconds later, the nosy reporter had left the building.
The outcast family sat in silence, with the faint sound of sitcom laughs coming from the TV, where 'Everybody loves Raymond' had just made a joke about his giant brother.
"So.." Michelangelo finally spoke. "When're you gonna write this.. list?"
"I will have it delivered to you before I go to bed," the rat answered, already planning out what chores to put on it. "Now, if you excuse me, I will be preparing dinner in the kitchen." With that, the old ninja master rose from his chair and went inside the sub-car.
The four brothers spent the following few seconds in silence, where everyone on their own tried to comprehend what they had just been informed.
"It can't be that bad," Donatello finally interrupted the silence. His brothers instantly turned to look at him. "I mean, how many chores can there be? And if we divide them between all four of us, it shouldn't be so hard."
They all nodded in response, thinking he made a very strong point.
"Yeah," Mike spoke up. "So we'll have to do the dishes and clean the lair, it's nothing we can't handle."
"Right," Leo agreed. "No big deal."
The four teenagers nodded at each other, having decided it wouldn't be so bad after all. Still they couldn't suppress that tiny hint of fear that lingered in the back of their minds. For they had all seen the sadistic look in Splinter's eyes when April told them off, and it was anything but calming to them.