Book 2 of Cat and Mouse
Title: Better Off Dead
Author: Jayde
Rating: PG-13 for Language, Violence, and Adult Content
Credits: Thanks to Sassy for the beta read. (Hope I didn't mess up your studying!)
Summary: FBI agent Samantha Gallagher, now a friend of the turtles, starts working on a new case that may spell the end of her career.
Author's Notes: Reluctant Dragon – I generally think Don and April as a couple, too (in fact, I've written that pairing in another fic). Hmm. Don and Sam … What an interesting idea, Sassy! This, as Fallen Hikari would say, is where I should insert an evil laugh. (cackles madly).
Chapter 3:
Five years earlier …
"I can't believe you made it, honey."
"Dad," Samantha said, struggling with his tie. "Of course I made it. I'm your kid. It's genetics."
"Bullshit," he retorted, and craned to look around her at the bathroom mirror. "Don't you know how to tie a tie?"
"No," Sam replied, reining in her impatience as she fumbled with the knot. "They didn't cover this in college. And, I doubt they will at the FBI Academy either."
"My little girl an FBI agent," her father crowed. He finally took the offensive piece of fabric from her hands, and started tying it himself. "It's just too bad …"
Sam's face fell from radiant happiness to a more familiar sadness. "I know, Dad. I wish Mark was here, too."
"He'd have made lieutenant by now," he replied, his expression distant with memories. Sam looked away, feeling the bitterness sweep over her. It tasted like dust and ashes.
-
It was one of the most gut wrenching and horrible feelings in the world.
Her password wasn't working.
She had tried it at least a dozen times now, trying desperately to remember if she had changed it at some point recently and simply forgotten. But for whatever reasons the network, and the databases, were now inaccessible.
Samantha stabbed the enter key again, and only received the 'you are not authorized' message for her trouble. She leaned back in her chair, and considered the glaring red text.
This wasn't an accident or a network glitch. This was deliberate. She glanced around the office, and noticed that no one met her eyes. She sat up a little straighter, and looked very carefully at each and every person there. The agents, the clerical staff – no one returned her attention.
She slumped down again, and tried to think if she had insulted everyone recentlyHer partner was dead, she was on the worst assignment her boss could find … Agent Sanders wandered in the door, and oiled his way around the room. He greeted the other agents with a hearty handshake, and he looked at her. He met her eyes without hesitation.
His expression was clear, too. It said 'I own you' in letters anyone could read.
Sam stood up, and jerked her jacket on with trembling hands. She picked up her bag, and stuffed a few file folders in it. She had no idea what cases they contained, but she was getting out of here. She strode out, ignoring Sanders altogether.
Once on the street, she only started walking quickly towards the parking garage where she had left her car. It was mid-morning, and there were the usual package delivery people about, along with a few people coming late to work. She turned and out of the corner of her eye she saw him.
A man in a dark suit, sunglasses, and the blank face of an FBI agent at work was following her. It was Sanders' partner from her interrogation at the hotel. Sam sped her steps, and without warning dashed across the street. A car horn blared, but she didn't slow down. Finding a subway entrance conveniently in front of her, she rushed down the steps.
Sam found herself in the underground station with quite a few other people. She waited, watching the train as it slowed and stopped. The doors opened, and people poured off. After a moment, others started to board. She stayed where she was – a few steps from the open doors and looked at the schedule board.
Her tail was near – too near. She waited, nearly vibrating with tension, and when the doors started to close she dived forward, throwing herself onto the train. A fellow commuter was rudely jostled by her desperate move, and he cursed her vehemently.
She apologized, and walked back through the now moving car to another. She had lost her tail. He had failed to make it on to the train. Sam sat down in a seat, and took a deep breath. This train would stop only blocks from the guys.
Just about to congratulate herself on her smooth escape, something told her to look to her right. Sam turned her head, and saw Sanders sitting on the train in his pressed suit and dark glasses. He had a wire in his right ear, and he made no pretext about it. He was grinning at her in naked triumph.
-
"We'll start with the basics. Rachel probably knows some of this already from karate classes," Leo explained to Juliet as they sat on the ledge surrounding the training space. In front of them, Mike was leading Rachel and Noelle through a series of motions. Rachel clearly had done this before, but Noelle was mostly waving her arms around happily.
Juliet nodded, even though she felt like she was in over her head. She couldn't imagine what her own training would be like.
"What about the rest of their education?" Don asked, munching on an apple. He leaned against the wall nearby.
"I thought I could home school them in math, science, English …," Juliet said thoughtfully.
"I could help with that," Don offered. "I know a little about math, science …"
"Physics, calculus, chemistry, astrophysics, and basically any other genius thing you can imagine," Mike called out from the practice floor. "And I can teach them about the finer points of life."
"Which are what?" Don inquired, amused.
"Television, video games, music, pizza," Mike listed.
"And Ninjitsu!" Rachel shouted, copying a side kick that Mike had just executed.
"Don't worry," Mike reassured Juliet. "Soon they'll be just like me!"
Leo laid a gentle hand on Juliet's shoulder. He looked deep into her eyes. "I'm sorry," he offered sincerely. Juliet replied with a half-smile for the joke.
Donatello's cell phone chose that moment to ring, startling everyone. He retrieved the phone from his belt, and answered it.
"Hello," Don said. His eyes lit up as he heard the voice on the other end. "Sam, what's …?" He paused, and his smile disappeared. "No, that's probably for the best. Yes. Juliet's fine. No. We're okay for supplies, so don't worry about it." Don glanced over at Leo, and they exchanged some silent information. "We'll take extra precautions. Yes. Okay. Bye."
Don held the phone in his hand for moment, his expression reflecting his concern.
"What?" Mike asked, halting the practice session.
"Sam is being followed again. She thinks she had better stay away for a couple of days to avoid suspicion," Don answered. He smiled ruefully. "She's also been assigned to a stakeout tonight."
"It's raining," Raph noted as he crossed the practice area to the heavy bag.
"She's in trouble for helping me, isn't she," Juliet noted morosely.
"Sam's just being careful," Don responded. "She doesn't want to lead anyone here – for various reasons."
"How close was she?" Leo asked.
"Two blocks," Don sighed. Raph threw a powerful kick at the heavy bag, and it swung wildly. Mike herded the girls further away from where his brother was working out. "She said she's stuck outside in an alley for the rest of the night."
"Ouch," Leo offered, wincing in sympathy. "Does she need anything?"
Don shook his head. Raph punched the bag repeatedly, and the chain groaned in protest. "I'm going to check on her later."
"Hey Donnie," Raph called. "You want some company when you go topside?"
"No thanks," Don replied.
-
"Aaah," Samantha released a deep breath as she stepped into her apartment. The sun would be rising soon, and this had been – without a doubt – one of the most miserable nights of her life. She paused just inside the door, and peeled off her wet jacket. She managed to kick off her shoes, and noted that her socks were completely soaked. She dragged them off as well, hanging onto the doorframe for balance.
She hadn't made it three steps when she saw the stack of towels on the floor. She bent over, and grabbed the top one to lie down on the floor under her shoes and dripping jacket. She took the second one to wrap around her wet hair.
The kettle started to whistle, and Sam closed her eyes for a moment in relief. There was only one individual that would break in and try to make her life a little easier.
"Come and have some tea," Don's voice called from the kitchen. Sam started in that direction, when a knock on the door behind her made her freeze in her tracks. She turned back, and hesitantly opened the door.
"Mr. Adams," Sam greeted her neighbor.
"Samantha, are you just getting home?" Richard questioned sharply.
"Yes, I had to work," Sam explained. "Did you need something Mr. Adams?"
"No, but I thought I heard someone in here before you came home. You sure no one else is here?"
Sam raised her eyebrows for a moment. Her neighbor must have exceptional hearing.
"I, um, I have a friend here," Sam admitted. She watched as Mr. Adams face split into a wide smile.
"Well, now, it seems you're finally taking my advice. It's good to have a social life, Samantha," Richard crowed happily. He turned away, and started back towards his apartment. Sam watched him until he reached his own door. "Have a good day."
"You too," Sam responded, shaking her head. She shut her door, and locked it. She headed back to the kitchen, and found Don pouring hot water into two cups.
"Problem?" He asked, waving her to a chair. Sam sat down, and cradled the hot mug in her hands. The warmth felt unbelievably good.
"My neighbor thinks I'm having a social life," Sam said. Don quirked an eye ridge at her, and sat down at the table. "He heard you."
"He couldn't have. I'm a ninja," Don argued politely. He sipped at his tea.
"Better take a refresher course, because he did hear you."
"How was the stakeout?" Don asked, switching the topic of conversation.
"Horrible," Sam said, shuddering. "I'm being punished."
"Yeah," Don agreed. Sam took a gulp of tea, and felt the hot liquid burn its way down her throat.
"Sanders is being given every professional courtesy," Sam clarified bitterly, looking down at her cup. "I can't … There's no one there to trust."
"Sam …," Don started.
"I'll be okay. I'm just …," Sam shrugged. "I'm in a corner, and I have to figure a way out."
"You're not alone," Don noted.
"I am though," she contradicted. "There is no ninja trick for this, Don."
-
"Where do the plates go?"
"Up here," Mike responded, tapping a kitchen cupboard door. He put his hands back into the sink, and continued to scrub at the pot that had held the spaghetti sauce. Behind him, Juliet moved back over to the drainer, and started drying the glasses.
"It's so quiet," Juliet noted.
"Gets like that when everyone is gone." The other three turtles had gone out to do a quick sweep of the sewer tunnels and pick up a few supplies. Splinter was in his room, and the girls were curled up on the couch watching television. "Here," Mike said. He picked up a towel and dried off his hands. He turned on the radio that rested further along the counter. Soft popular music replaced the silence.
Humming along, Juliet placed the glasses back on the shelf. Mike smiled over at her as she swayed her hips to the music. He drifted up behind her, and put a hand on her abdomen, wetting her t-shirt. She laughed and swatted at him with her towel, but she couldn't reach him effectively. He started to sway with her. She leaned back, still giggling, and let him lead them in a little dance.
Juliet sighed, and closed her eyes. She could, she thought, get used to this kind of treatment. Mike had become a good friend during her brief stay.
Mike turned them, holding her to him with his hand. She followed his steps, and rested her head back against his shoulder. She was utterly relaxed, and then suddenly she wasn't. She became aware of the hard surface behind her – his plastron, he had explained – and of the way he was effortlessly holding her with only one arm.
The song switched, but the moment of peace had been shattered. Mike sensed her discomfort, and quickly backed away.
"Sorry," he offered.
Juliet turned around, and met his concerned eyes. "It's okay. It just … seems too soon."
"Yeah," Mike agreed quickly, nodding his head. A smile broke across his face as he had an idea. He held out his hands to her. Juliet eyed him carefully, puzzled, but after a moment she put her hands out.
Mike took the towel out of her hand, and tossed it on the table. He caught her hand in his, and he moved her other hand to his shoulder. He was grinning as they moved into something that could have been a tango, had it not been so ridiculously exaggerated. Juliet giggled helplessly as Mike lowered her into a dip. They hugged each other tightly as he brought her back to her feet.
"Thank you," she offered between giggles, slowly getting her breath back. She was grateful for the break in the tension.
She couldn't have said, afterward, who moved first. It seemed like they both shifted closer at the same time, and then they were just kissing. And it wasn't disgusting or horrible or even that strange. He was surprisingly gentle, and when his hands moved to her hair she relaxed against him.
When they broke apart, Juliet sighed. "It's still too soon."
"Yeah," Mike agreed, but he kept his arms around her anyway.
-