Michelangelo groaned, rubbing his head. He vaguely remembered being trapped in a cloud of teargas after trying to rescue some hostages in a high-rise building. Now he was lying on his back in a large, very dimly lit room, lying on a concrete floor. Mikey craned his neck up slightly, noting with some unease that his weapons and gear were all gone. He rolled over onto his plastron to climb to his feet when the floor suddenly sloped off sharply and Mikey tumbled into icy cold water.
All fogginess disappeared from his mind as the cold hit him like a physical blow, forcing the air from his lungs. Mikey scrambled back up onto the concrete, shivering uncontrollably. Eyes wide with shock, he noticed the window for the first time. Two human men stared impassively at him through a broad window across the water. The water . . . . A huge pool took up most of the room; Mikey could see it now as the ripples from his inadvertent dip reflected the dim light. Still shivering, Mikey glared up at the men in the window.
"Hey! What's the big idea?!" He demanded. The two humans started, clearly surprised. One of them leaned forward and spoke into a microphone.
"You can talk?" The sound echoed through the concrete room.
"Yeah, and I can dance, too!" Michelangelo yelled. Though normally sweet tempered, the cold-water wake-up had made him lose his temper quickly. "What do you think I am, a sea turtle?!" This prompted a whispered conversation between the two humans.
"So . . . . you're not a sea turtle?" The other human asked hesitantly.
"Do I look like one?!" Mikey spluttered, confused by the sudden biologic turn the questioning had taken.
"So what kind of turtle are you?" The first human asked.
"A Mutant turtle," Mike answered dryly, starting to regain his temper.
"Touché," The man said with a slight smirk. "So the water was a little cold, huh? The other one didn't seem to mind."
"Uh-huh," Mikey said, wondering who had gotten caught along with him. Raphael sure wouldn't have put up with the freezing water, and Donatello wouldn't have stayed quiet in the face of scientific questions. So maybe Leo was here too?
"Yeah, she's been here a week and she only comes up for air," the second man said casually.
"Apparently, she is a sea turtle," the first said with a wry grin. Michelangelo stared at the both of them silently for a few minutes. Either they were screwing with him, or the heavens had just opened up and answered every prayer he ever sent skyward.
"Um . . . . 'she'?" he repeated.
"Oh yes; she's at the bottom of the tank," The second man said, fiddling with a few controls on the other side of the glass. The lights slowly brightened until Mikey could see the bottom of the tank. Thirty feet down, curled into tight ball on the floor of the aquarium, was a female Mutant turtle. She was a deep greenish-brown, with a white hands, feet, face, and plastron. White shot through her green coloring, picking out rounded off rectangles of color. Dark brown hair drifted around her head, obscuring her face. Her shell was much smaller than Mike's or any of his brothers'.
'They said she was a sea turtle,' he reminded himself. 'They can't pull into their shells like a regular turtle.'
"Pretty, isn't she?" The first human asked. "We caught her in the ocean around Hawaii. She hasn't been nearly as responsive as you have though." The man stood up to peer down at the tank through the window. "She's been under for about an hour now. We think she's asleep."
"An hour?!" Mikey gasped. Without another thought, he dove straight into the freezing water. His ears were ringing by the time he got close enough to grab the female by the wrist. Startled, she jerked in his grasp, staring up at him with huge brown eyes.
His lungs starting to complain, Mikey wrapped an arm around her and kicked up off the bottom of the pool. Moments later, he erupted in a shower of spray, the precious female cradled in his arms.
"It's okay, I've got you, sweetie! C'mon, we need to get out of the water; you're going to freeze to death. Let's get you onto some nice . . semi-dry . . . concrete," Mikey babbled. He tended to let his mouth run when he got excited and now was no exception. The female flopped loosely in his grasp, wrapping one arm around his shoulders. Unable to help himself, Mikey let a broad grin split his face. He began to stroke for the side of the pool, levering himself up onto the side before pulling the sea turtle girl up with him. Michelangelo knelt on the cold concrete, holding the girl up slightly so he could look into her face. Her face was white with dark green markings down her nose and on her cheeks. Her deep brown eyes were rimmed with black and there was a blush on her cheeks as she looked up into Michelangelo's eyes.
"Um . .I . . uh . . hi," he said weakly, starting to blush himself. "My name's Michelangelo." She didn't answer, just continued to stare up at him for a moment. Then she put her hands on his shoulders and leaned her head against his chest with a soft sigh. And then she vomited down the front of his plastron.
"Oh . . . . . ew," Mikey whispered, feeling lumps of fishy-smelling slime running down his chest and thighs.
"Sorry," the female turtle whispered weakly. "They keep giving me jellyfish to eat."
"Oh, don't worry about it, honey!" Mikey answered quickly. "It'll wash right off. What's a little half-digested jellyfish between friends?" The girl leaned against him and threw up again. "Okay, that was mostly stomach acid," he said weakly as she shivered in his grasp. Frowning as a thought struck him, Mikey laid his hand against the girl's forehead.
"Oh my god, honey, you're burning up! You're really sick!"
"I just want to go home . . ." She whispered, sliding down onto the concrete as she lost consciousness.
Eyes still as round as saucers, Michelangelo laid her gently down on the concrete.
"Don't worry. I'll get you home," he growled. Though normally the mildest of the four, real anger started to glow in Mikey's eyes. Standing, he turned towards the window where the two humans watched.
"So is she close enough to a Mutant turtle for you?" the first asked sarcastically. The glass of the window was bulletproof, however, it was no match for 200 lbs. of angry ninja launched shell-first. Michelangelo smashed through the glass like a vengeful demon, landing on top of the first human male.
"Think you're funny, do ya?" He demanded, drawing back for a dragon punch. "Just be glad I'm the nice one!!"
On an upper story of the same building, Raphael peered around a corner briefly to watch a group of five guards stop to chat in a corridor. Safely back in the shadows, Raph tightened his grip on his sais. These creeps though they could turn Mikey into some sort of guinea pig, did they? Over Raph's dead body. All right; on the count of three, he'd rush these five and open up this corridor for their escape. Leo and Donnie were on a lower floor, finding out exactly where Mike was being kept and disabling the security systems. One . . . two . . . . The sound of a scuffle distracted Raphael from his countdown. The unmistakable sound of someone's nose being broken by a short length of wood made him peer around the corner again. Where five guards had been stopping for a chat, five prone bodies now lay on the ground. Only one was still moving and the way he was curled into the fetal position around his face suggested he was in his own private world of pain.
"O-kay . . ." Raph murmured under his breath, walking up to the group of battered humans. Whoever had happened to them, they had been quick, quiet, and devastating. "All right," Raph growled to himself. "Who's stealing my thunder?"
Back down in the observation room, the female turtle opened her eyes. She thought there had been someone in here with her; another turtle. Was it just a fever dream? A scream of pain cut off abruptly, causing her to look over. The observation window had been smashed in; the observing scientists lay strewn about the room like rag dolls. All right, so he wasn't just a fever dream. It sounded like he knew the way of lua as well. The reptilian girl forced herself to stand on shaking legs, slowly making her way over to the window and crawling through it. The room and the corridor outside of it looked like a tornado had torn through it. A few guards lay on the ground in various states of pummeled. The sea turtle girl looked around uncertainly, then started down the hallway. She had only gone a short distance when she had to sit down to rest. She leaned her head against the wall, shaking and sweating like she had just out-swum a mako.
"How the hell did you get out of your aquarium?" A loud voice demanded. The sea turtle girl blinked up at a guard, gasping in pain as he clamped down on her arm. She tried a throat strike on him, but in her weakened state, it ended up being more of a light slap. The guard flinched slightly, then yanked her to her feet.
"You call that a punch?!"
"No," said a voice behind him, "I call this a punch." As the guard turned, Mikey's fist smashed into his face so hard the human was literally lifted off of his feet. The female collapsed as the guard dropped her, blinking up at Michelangelo with bleary eyes. He was breathing heavy and spatters of blood were sprinkled across his chest and face like the remnants of a defeated army. His knuckles were covered in blood, even though he didn't seem to be injured in any way. His eyes still flamed with the heat of battle.
"Did he hurt you, sweetheart?" The female just stared up at him; his image swimming in and out of focus. Without a word, she held out her arms like a child wanting to be picked up. The fire in Mikey's eyes died instantly. He knelt beside her and scooped her up, cradling her to his chest like the rare treasure she was.
"Don't worry, baby, I've got you," he crooned gently.
"Makai," the girl finally panted. Even the effort of speaking was almost too much for her. "My name is Makai."
On a lower floor, Leonardo watched a hallway while Donatello searched the computer systems for Mikey's whereabouts.
"Anything yet, Don?" Leo asked, the tension obvious in his voice.
"Well, I found the room they were holding Mike in. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like he was content to stay there. I think he's still on the third floor somewhere, but I haven't found him on surveillance yet." Donatello's eyes flickered over to another security station where another screen on the top floor dissolved into static. "At least Raphael's doing his job." Leonardo frowned and approached the second station. He tapped a few buttons and brought up the last usable image from the security camera. He squinted at the frozen frame, the object caught on it blurred by speed.
"Donnie? Does that look like a sai to you?" Donatello paused and squinted over Leo's shoulder.
"N-n-o-o-o-o . . . ." he said slowly, scowling at the screen. "I have no idea what that is."
"It looks like some kind of wooden knuckle duster," Leo murmured to himself. "With something white stuck along the outer edge."
"Sure it does," Donnie agreed. "But I know Raph didn't bring anything like that along. So, if he's not taking out the cameras . . ."
"Who is?" Leo finished.
Raphael paused over another fallen guard, an exasperated sigh heaving his shoulders. At first he had thought it was Mikey fighting his way outside, but whoever was clearing the halls was heading deeper into the building, not out of it. Sounds of a fight broke out ahead of him. Raph rushed forward, determined to catch whoever was hogging all of the fun. He had to dodge a guard thrown his way at the last minute, but he burst out into a larger room just in time to see a gold and white blur disappear behind several large salt-water tanks. Cautiously, he crept into the line of specimen tanks, trying to see through the waving strands of kelp inside. He heard a sound above him a millisecond before something heavy slammed down onto his shell. Before he could straighten up, he got another flash of gold and white out of the corner of his eye and a thin leather cord snapped shut around his neck, cutting off his air. Raphael gagged, trying to get the blade of his sai under the cord, but it was already too tight around his throat. Damn, whoever this was, they knew what they were doing. But after a moment, the garrote loosened slightly; the wielder obviously uncertain about the fact that he was a giant turtle. Big mistake. With both hands, Raphael reached up and grabbed a hold of the warrior on his back and threw them off. He ended up with a stick weapon about a foot and a half in length dangling from his neck by a leather strap. Growling, he untangled the strap, then broke the stick over his knee.
"Makai's going to be pissed; you just broke her favorite pahoa." A throaty female voice announced. Raphael turned to his attacker . . . . and nearly fell to his knees in shock.
He had just been jumped by a female mutant turtle. At least he thought she was a turtle; he had never seen a white turtle with golden-brown spots before, but she had a shell and three fingers on each hand. She also had red-blond hair with blond streaks in it, which struck Raphael as a little odd, but hey, she made it work. She was sitting back against a wall with one elbow propped up on her knee casually, as if she hadn't just been thrown there. She had the coolest ice-blue eyes Raph had ever seen.
"Holy shit . . ." He muttered.
"Hnn," she grunted, a smile tugging at her lips. "I wasn't expecting to see you either." She stood, giving Raphael a better look at her. She was very short, but nicely proportioned; it was if she were just built along extra-small lines rather than smashed down into a petite package. Despite the mammalian trait of having hair, her plastron was just as flat as Raph's. Not that it wasn't a nicely shaped front; there simply weren't any of the extras you'd expect on a human woman. Her hips were wide and nicely curved, adding to her femininity. There was a necklace of volcanic glass and sharks' teeth around her neck and she wore an anklet of huge wooden beads that could probably be used as a weapon. She had a red loincloth around her waist, but it seemed to be more for decoration than anything else. At the moment, a pair of crude wooden knuckledusters hung from it. They were roughly carved, the handles wrapped with white cotton. A large sharp spike jutted out one side of each and the outer rim was lined with shark's teeth. Unlike his own sai, there was no sleek elegance about these weapons. No one could claim they were simple pins for oxen collars; the only use these had were putting holes in people. Raphael eyed them with a mixture of admiration and anxiety. It was a good thing she hadn't decided to use those on him; he might not have survived the experience.
"Nice . . . ." he began. The girl's ice-blue eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Nice what?!" she snapped.
"Nice . . . uh . . . actually, I don't know what they're called," Raph admitted. At the look of pure confusion on the female's face, he pointed to the weapons at her hips. "Your weapons."
"Oh! They're called ku'eku'e lima lei-o-mano."
"Right, knuckledusters," Raphael said diplomatically. "Who are you? What are you doing here? And where'd you learn to fight like that?"
"The name's Pele," she said with a grin. "Like the goddess."
"Found him, Leo!" Donatello cried. "He's almost to the stairs at this end of the third floor. It looks like he's got somebody with him," he added, squinting at the screen.
"No time for that, Don! We've got company!" Leo cried, dragging his brother out into the hallway. The sound of running feet pounded loud from the next corridor. Donatello and Leonardo darted across to the other corridor, avoiding the guards and heading towards Mikey and his companion.
'Wow', Raph thought, staring at Pele. 'I can't believe this is really happening.' He should have been paying more attention to where the two of them were running than to her, but this only occurred to him a moment after he bounced off a doorframe. Pele stopped, glaring back at him as he picked himself up off of the floor.
"I sure hope your brother's more coordinated than you are," she announced flatly. Raph scowled.
"I'll have you know I'm the strongest warrior of the four of us!" He growled. Pele paused to give him a disdainful look before peering around a corner.
"In that case, don't worry. Makai and I will protect you guys."
"I sure hope your sister's a lot friendlier than you," Raph growled back. Pele ignored him and made her way into the stairwell. The petite chelonian leaned over the empty space between the stairs and stared down into the darkness. At the bottom of the shaft, there was a click of someone opening a door, a moment of hesitation, then another click as the person changed their mind and closed the door without opening it.
"That was one of your brothers!" Pele announced. "Let's go!"
"How the shell do you know?!" Raph demanded, starting after her. "Women's intuition?"
"More like echolocation jerk!" Pele snapped, already two floors down. "Now come on!"
"Turtles can't echo-locate!" Raphael protested, but had little choice but to follow her.
"Mikey!!" Michelangelo half-turned at the cry, not really surprised to see Donatello and Leonardo bearing down on him as he approached the door to the stairwell at the end of the hallway.
"Dudes! It's about time you got here!" He joked, turning towards them fully. Makai lay limp in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. Leo and Don stopped so short they nearly tripped over each other. Their eyes were locked on the female in Mikey's arms. Mikey grinned to himself and hefted the girl.
"Guys, meet Makai," he said, then puffed up with pride. "I'm rescuing her." Before Leo or Don could reply, the door to the stairwell burst open and another female turtle, this one gold and white came barreling through, Raphael close on her heels. Raph looked startled to find his brothers.
"Geez, you were right!"
"Don't question a woman; we know everything. Now—MAKAI!!" Pele cried, going to her sister. She had to stretch up to reach the other female. Raphael took a step back and admired the view. Being a sea turtle, Pele's shell was relatively much smaller than his or his brother's. Which meant it left much more of her rear end bare.
"Uh--," Leo began, pointing to the smaller female with an astonished look on his face. Raph grinned.
"Guys, meet Pele. She's got spunk."
"Don't you dare patronize me," Pele growled without looking in Raph's direction. "Makai? Makai, what's wrong?!"
"She's really sick," Mikey answered, worry surfacing on his face. "They kept her in freezing water and only gave her jellyfish to eat."
"Jellyfish? Ewww," Leo echoed, making a face.
"Well, jellyfish is the primary food of normal sea turtles," Donny said rationally.
"But Makai is allergic to jellyfish!" Pele protested. "She's probably going into anaphylactic shock by now!"
"Annaphil–whatta?" Mikey repeated, looking blank.
"Anaphylaxis is a hypersensitivity to foreign proteins or drugs resulting from prior sensitization to that particular catalyst," Donatello explained. Leo, Raph, and Mikey continued to stare blankly. "Um, it's a severe allergic reaction."
"Oh," Leo and Raph said in the same voice.
"Why didn't you say that first?" Mikey asked.
"Wait a minute; how did you find my sister?" Pele asked, suspiciously, frowning up at Mikey.
"They put me in with her. I um . . . I think . . . they wanted me to . . . to . . . ah, y'know," He blushed hotly. Michelangelo's embarrassment didn't last long. Wooden weapons don't make the same sort of noise as metal ones when pulled from a sheath or holder. So Mike didn't have any warning before he found a half-circle of sharks' teeth pressed to his throat.
"You bastard!" Pele roared. "If you got my sister pregnant--!"
Metal weapons do make a slight sound as their drawn, but Pele was so focused on Michelangelo she didn't notice until a katana blade pressed lightly against one side of her neck and a sai on the other.
"Please don't kill Mikey. We're kind of attached to him," Leo said dryly. "Besides, I really don't think you have to worry about him taking advantage of your sister."
"I'm NOT that kind of guy!" Mikey protested, looking highly offended. "Maybe if it was Raph you could worry, but—."
"Hey!" Raphael protested.
"Still making friends, I see," a soft voice said, breaking through the increasingly raised voices. Makai was awake, peering down at her sister through slitted eyes.
"Makai! God, you had me worried sick!" Pele's relief at seeing her sister awake faded when she realized she still had her ku'eku'e at Michelangelo's throat and Raphael and Leonardo likewise still had their weapons poised. Clearing her throat, she put her weapon away. Leo and Raphael lowered theirs. Pele's blue eyes flicked over to Leonardo's katana for a moment, then she glanced up to meet his eyes. There was a moment of eye-to-eye contact between them, then Pele quickly looked back to Makai.
"Do you realize you're lying weak and helpless in the arms of some strange man?" the fair turtle asked coolly. Makai managed a weak grin.
"Jealous, much?"
Pele actually blushed.
"You're shameless, Makai. Geez, you probably would have let him--," Before she could continue on her rant, a canister spewing gas clattered down the hallway, causing all six turtles to duck and cover their mouths.
"Guys! We've got to get out of here!" Donnie cried, drawing his bo and knocking the canister back the way it had come. "Raph! Did you clear the top floor?!"
"Yeah; I took out all the guards," Raphael answered, whipping out his sai.
"Excuse me?!" Pele snapped, arching a brow ridge as she headed back towards the stairwell.
"Okay, so Pele handled a few, too," Raphael started after Pele, followed by his four brothers. Pele slammed both hands into the handle, then slammed face first into the door when it remained shut. Raphael crashed into the back of her, followed by the other three brothers. Michelangelo, at the back, managed to turn and take most of the impact on his shell, protecting Makai, who was still cradled in his arms.
"It's locked!" Pele squawked, sandwiched between a steel door and nearly eight hundred pounds of male turtle. "And that had better be a weapon poking me in the ass!"
"We've got guards on this end, guys!" Mikey cried as the other four turtles sorted themselves out. Through the wisps of smoke, guards sporting industrial breathers and tasers approached them warily.
"They must have gotten the security system back up," Donnie said.
"Guys and . . . girls . . . looks like we're stuck between a rock and hard place!" Leonardo cried dramatically, unsheathing his katana. Pele seemed to appear at his side, her ku'eku'e out and ready for action.
"When you're between the devil and the deep blue sea, it's time to swim!" The fair turtle charged at the guards.
"Explain this to me again, Johnson," the professor said sternly, looking down into the observation chamber.
"W-well, sir, it was a rather simple experiment in these creatures' social matrix. The original male refused to leave the sick female's side after they were re-captured. We were curious as to the whole gender relationship versus family bonds, so we picked out the two most aggressive males and placed them in isolation with the smaller female. We wanted to see if they'd fight over the right to mate with her or take turns or what," Johnson stammered.
"And the board game?"
"Um, a bit of an inside joke, sir. The boys in Genetics were joking about whether they'd spend the time mating or playing monopoly. So when we were furnishing the room, we gave them the board game."
"And?"
"And, um . . . . they're . . . they're playing monopoly."
"What are you doing?! Pele, you can't take any more money out of the bank; you're broke!" Leo cried, scowling at the small female. The scientists had taken away all of their weapons and gear, so Pele's hair was spilling down over shell and shoulders in a kinky mass of curls. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and leveled her diamond-blue eyes at Leonardo.
"I'm holding up the bank. This is a robbery." Raphael snorted, his shoulders starting to shake with suppressed laughter.
"You can't rob the bank! That's against the rules!" Leo squawked.
"Yeah, but people don't always play by the rules, Leo," Pele pointed out, counting her booty. Though she spoke without much of an accent, the fair-skinned sea turtle pronounced 'Leo' the Hawaiian way: LAY-o. Leo loved it, but it looked like the charm was starting to wear off.
"Damn it, Pele, you can't cheat! I won't let you!" He cried. Pele raised an eye ridge at his abrupt tone, then leaned over the board and flicked one of Leo's hotels clear across the room.
"Being a hardened criminal, I'm in with the mob, so I just torched your hotel for pissing off the family." Raphael burst out laughing.
"Damn it, Raph, it's not funny!" Leo growled, getting up to retrieve his hotel.
"Yes it is," Raphael chuckled. Pele busied herself with leaning across the board and flicking the rest of Leo's hotels across the room. The steel door to the observation room shot open and a tranquilizer dart zipped through, smacking firmly into Pele's upturned rump. The blond turtle let out a squeal of outrage. Before she could straighten up, Leo and Raph were through the door and making short work of the guards.
"Here we go; Makai, this will help you get your strength back in short order." Michelangelo carefully blew on the steaming contents of a hot spoon and offered it to the sea turtle. Makai eyed the lumpy contents covered in a milk-white slime with disbelief.
"What is it?"
"It's clam chowder. Come on, it's tasty."
"There aren't any jellyfish in it?"
"No jellyfish; just clams and potatoes and . . . uh . . . milk? I think . . ." Mikey studied of the contents of the soup bowl uncertainly. Makai cringed back down under the covers. Michelangelo had been extremely vocal about Makai's well being, demanding a soft bed with plenty of blankets, hot food and lots of rest for her. Now he fussed over her non-stop. Donnie had never seen him act like this.
"C'mon, sweetheart; you need to eat," Mikey coaxed. "This should be fine. I don't know why you're still getting sick."
"Her body has gotten used to automatically rejecting whatever she ate; it still hasn't shaken the habit." Don interjected, coming over and sitting on the other side of the bed. "I mean, there wasn't anything she couldn't eat in the chicken noodle soup, but she couldn't keep that down."
"Oh, that was just psychosomatic," Makai admitted. Mikey blinked.
"Psycho - - watta?"
"Psychosomatic," Donnie and Makai said at the same time. They looked at each other in surprise and laughed.
"The noodles kinda reminded me of jellyfish tentacles," the sea turtle girl said, making a face.
"Yeah, and her system's so weakened that's all it took," Donnie said, looking at Makai with pleased surprise. The three stopped and listened. The sounds of alarms and fighting could be heard faintly.
"Sounds like they're playing our song, bro," Mikey said with a grin.
"Sure does," Donatello agreed, looking up at the observation window. "Do you think a chair would work?"
"They might have reinforced the glass since I went through the last one," Michelangelo said, setting down the soup bowl. "We'd better use the table."
Four hours later, the group, bruised but triumphant, approached the Lair.
"This is going to be great," Raphael grinned. "Sensei's going to freak!" Leo hung back slightly to walk beside Pele.
"How are you doing?" He asked quietly. Pele, her hair loose and pressed across her mouth and nose like a mask, shot him a dark look.
"I think I'm getting used to the smell; I haven't thrown up for like an hour now," the fair turtle groaned. Behind them, Donatello never looked up from the research texts he had taken from the ruins of the lab.
"Did you know the girls' core body temperature is three degrees higher than ours?" He announced to no one in particular. "I wonder why that is . . ."
"Hang on, Makai, we're almost there," Michelangelo said, bringing up the rear with Makai still in his arms. Makai, who was also using her hair like a gas mask, let out a weak gurgle. Raphael burst through the door to the Lair.
"Oh Sensei! We're ho-ome!"
"My sons! Did you retrieve Michelangel . . . o?" Splinter stopped when he saw his sons and their two companions. "Leonardo? Who are these two . . . ladies?" Leo quickly left the group and bowed to Master Splinter before giving his report.
"Sensei, we went to rescue Mike and we found him already trying to free Makai. That's the one he's still holding. She was having a severe allergic reaction to what the scientists were feeding her and she's still very sick. Her sister, Pele, was trying to rescue her. We all got caught for a day or two, but we're all free now. We got all our gear back and Donatello got all the data the scientists had collected, right Donnie?"
"Huh?" Don said, tearing his eyes away from the file he had open. "Did you know our hearts are more like an alligator's than a turtle's?"
"Fascinating," Splinter said neutrally, his eyes still flicking back and forth between his sons and the newcomers. Pele tossed her hair back over her shoulder and approached the rat.
"Thank you for opening your home to us, kind sir," she said formally, giving a bow. "I'll do my best to repay your hospitality while my sister is sick."
"'Opening our home'?" Splinter echoed, looking nervous. "You're staying here?"
"Yes. Leo said we could stay while Makai recovers. We're from Hawaii, you see. Makai's in no condition to travel that far," Pele explained. Beside her, Leo started to blush.
"Lay-o?" Splinter repeated, arching an eyebrow.
"Leonardo," Pele clarified, pointing at Leo. Leo's cheeks grew a little redder. "That's all right, isn't it?" Splinter eyed Leonardo, who was intently studying the cracks in the floor. Then he looked to Michelangelo, who was cradling the stricken Makai.
"Yes, it is perfectly all right, ah, Pele, was it? Make yourself right at home. We will get your sister back on her feet in no time." The four boys grinned at each other. "Right after we decide on sleeping arrangements," Splinter added firmly. All six of the teenagers turned a little red this time.
"The girls can share my bed," Mikey offered.
"Both of them?!" Raph demanded, surprised his little brother would make such a bold offer in front of Splinter.
"In your dreams!" Pele snapped.
"Michelangelo!" Splinter cried. If any more blood rushed through Leo's face, his head would have exploded.
"Hey! I meant Makai and Pele can have my bed and share with each other," Mikey clarified, looking offended. "I'll bunk in with Raphael."
"No you won't," Raph growled.
"Um . . . I'll bunk in with Donnie," Mike corrected.
"Try again, Mr. Button-Pusher," Don said, never looking up from his data files.
"Um . . . Leo?"
"Yeah, that's cool," Leo sighed, carefully not looking at either of the girls.
"Well, since that's cool, I'll just go get Makai settled in," Mikey said, heading for his bedroom.
"I can show Pele around," Raph said, laying a hand on the smaller turtle's shoulder. Pele lifted his hand by one finger and flicked it off disdainfully.
"After Makai is taken care of, you will all meet me in the dojo," Splinter said sharply.
"Yes, Master Splinter," the four brothers chorused, some more reluctantly than others.
Michelangelo carried Makai up to his room, depositing her gently in his already messed up bed and wishing he had cleaned his room before he had gotten kidnapped.
"Um, sorry about the mess," he said, tucking Makai in. "I –uh- was going to clean it up. . ." Grabbing a stack of comic books off of the bedside table, he looked around for somewhere to put them, finally deciding on a chair. Makai chuckled at this, pulling the blankets up tighter around her.
"It's okay. It kind of looks like Pele's room." She said. "Can I have another blanket or something? It's so cold down here."
"Oh sure! Lessee, blanket, blanket . . . um, how about a sweatshirt?" Mikey dug out a well-worn orange sweatshirt with a big white 'M' on the front.
"Does the 'M' stand for 'Mikey'?" Makai asked with a grin. Michelangelo looked down at the logo.
"Um . . . actually, I think it stands for 'Michigan.'" Mikey didn't want her to think he was a total dunce. Of course Makai would have recognized the Michigan State University logo and was just teasing him. "But when you wear it it can stand for 'Makai.'"
"Awww, you're so sweet, Mikey," Makai said, sitting up as Michelangelo handed her the shirt. Instead of just taking the garment, the sea turtle let it fall into her lap, catching Mike by one wrist and putting her other hand on the back of his neck. "Thank you for rescuing me," she murmured, pulling him down to kiss him gently on the mouth. Mikey's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He sat down on the edge of the bed, Makai's arms still locked around his neck and her lips pressed firmly against his. After a moment of total shock, he put his arms around her and kissed her back. It was a bumbling kiss; his first, after all. Makai didn't seem to mind; this was likely her first kiss as well. After what seemed like an eternity but at the same time wasn't nearly long enough, Makai pulled away slightly. She stared up at Mikey, her eyes dark with an unreadable emotion. She looked almost . . . apprehensive; as if she expected him to be angry or reject her or something else unthinkable.
"Makai . . .," he breathed, brushing his thumb along her full lower lip. At a loss for what else to say, Mike kissed her again. Makai returned his kiss eagerly.
"Good Lord, it didn't take you long, did it?" A sarcastic voice asked. Mikey and Makai jumped, looking around guiltily. Pele stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Leonardo and Raphael stood behind her, eyeing the pair with more than a little jealousy. "Did you even let him put you down before you attacked him?" Makai blushed, leaning against Michelangelo's chest.
"It was just a kiss, Pele," she whispered. Pele snorted rudely.
"I was coming to ask if you wanted to take a bath before you settled in, but I think I'll take a shower ahead of you; I don't want Mikey germs in the tub."
"Oh now you're just being childish," Makai returned. "It was just a kiss."
"Sensei wants to see us, Mikey," Leo said. "Now."
"Okay, Okay," Michelangelo said, rising. "I'll be back to check on you later, sweetie." He headed out into the Lair with his two brothers.
"Tramp," Pele declared as Mikey passed her, not bothering to wait until the boys were out of earshot. "You didn't give him any tongue, did you?"
"None of your damn business!" Makai squealed, hurling a pillow at her sister. The three brothers headed towards the dojo in silence.
"So . . . Raph started, an evil grin starting to cross his face. "Did she give you any tongue?"
"Raphael!" Leo cried, his face burning. Mikey cleared his throat and looked away, a blush starting on his own cheeks. Raph guffawed.
"Mikey, you dawg!" He cried, slugging his little brother on the shoulder hard enough to make Mike stagger.
"My sons! To me!" Splinter said sharply, causing the three to run into the dojo where Donatello already sat waiting. The four brothers peered up at their sensei, waiting for his words. Splinter stared back at them, feeling a little apprehensive. He had always meant to have this talk with his sons, eventually. Of course, with no females of their own kind, there was no real urgency to it and Splinter had continued to put it off indefinitely. Now that he had the situation thrust upon him, he didn't really know what to say. He hadn't been this flustered since he'd had to explain the effects of puberty.
"Ah . . ." he began. "Um . . . I – I think we need to have a long talk." This would be a lot easier if he didn't have to look at them. Splinter began to pace back and forth in front of the four turtles. "We- we need to talk . . . about. . . . .sex." There was a pregnant silence. The four brothers gave Splinter a stare usually associated with wild bovines and vehicle headlights. The old rat turned away to continue his pacing. Leo, Mike, Raph and Don exchanged panicked looks.
"Now, I realize I have left this a bit late . . . . you are already young men. I thought I would not need to . . . discuss . . . . . this—."
"Um . . . sensei?" Raphael said quietly, trying not to be his usual blunt self. "Didn't we already have this talk? Like, when we went through puberty?"
"Yeah," Mikey piped up. "We already did the whole 'the birds and the bees' thing."
"Yes, I know," Splinter replied. "But, well, there were . . . aspects that I didn't discuss and I'd like to remedy that now."
"Is this about safe sex?" Donatello wanted to know. "We know that part, too."
"Ah . . . well . . . no. But it's good that you know about that . . . part. Where did you--?"
"TV." The four turtles chorused as one.
"Ah. I see. Well-," Splinter continued, feeling his control of the discussion starting to slip.
"You're not going to tell how to . . . . you know . . . are you, Sensei?" Mikey suddenly asked, eyes wide. "'Cause honestly, coming from you it would just be creepy." Splinter tried to envision what on Earth Michelangelo was referring to and came up with a blank.
"How to what?" he asked, against his better judgment. Mikey looked away for a minute, fidgeted nervously and blushed.
"You know," he muttered, gesturing vaguely. At Splinter's blank stare, he flushed even harder and stared at the ground. "How to make a woman . . . . . . happy." It still took a minute to sink in. Splinter felt a blush go to the tips of his ears. He was in way over his head here.
"I – no."
"Dummy!" Raphael roared, smacking Mikey upside the head. "What makes you think Sensei knows how to do that?!"
"I beg your pardon!" Splinter snapped, feeling insulted. Leonardo, who had been carefully studying the cracks in the floor where he sat, suddenly slapped a hand over his face in sheer, utterly embarrassed horror. Donatello started to laugh. Splinter slammed his walking stick down sharply, the sound ringing through the dojo like a gunshot.
"As I was saying!" he snapped. "I realize you all know the physical aspects of sex, but I want to speak to you about the emotional aspects." Splinter paused to straighten his kimono before continuing. "Now, these two girls are of your kind, which means that, romantically involved or not, they are bound to you by your species kinship. If something goes wrong between you and one of them, you cannot simply stop seeing them. These girls will be around for the rest of your lives and turtles live a very, very long time. There is no moving on to greener pastures if you make a large mistake. Becoming intimate with someone is a very large step. It will affect you in ways you cannot foresee. Before you move towards that step, you need to look inside yourself and make sure you are emotionally ready for it. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sensei." The chorus was much quieter this time.
"Good. Now, having said that, I wish you the best of luck in matters of love and if I become a grandfather before you turn eighteen, the child will grow up fatherless because I'll have killed you. That is all." There was a feminine giggle from the doorway.
"Well said," Pele critiqued. "Now where are the clean towels?"
Later that evening, Splinter made the rounds to check on his sons. Raphael was safely ensconced in his room, chucking his sais at a dartboard while he listened to some sort of heavy thrash metal. The look on his face suggested he had some heavy thinking to do. Donatello was already snoring at his desk; the medical data stolen from the lab spread out underneath him like a pillow. Michelangelo and Leonardo were arguing about the best placement for Mikey's cot and Mikey's comics and whatever else Mikey had dragged along with him. The girls were both shut into Michelangelo's room. Splinter inclined his head towards the door.
"I still can't believe you kissed him already," Pele's voice came through loud and clear.
"Would you get over the damn kiss already?!" Makai sighed, clearly exasperated. "It was just a kiss! Besides, don't you want to know what it was like?"
"Nope." Pele said firmly.
"You're not the least bit curious?"
"Not in the slightest." Pele growled. "Tramp." Splinter rolled his eyes in amusement and raised his hand to knock.
"At least I didn't lie to Master Splinter," Makai protested. Splinter paused. There was a moment of silence on the other side of the door.
"What are you talking about?" Pele asked.
"You know. When you said we were just staying here until I could travel again?" There was another pause.
"Yee-ah," Pele said slowly, clearly still perplexed. "How exactly was that a lie?"
"You said we were going back to Hawaii when I got my strength back."
"Uh-huh?"
"Pele, you know we can't go back there," Makai's voice was suddenly deadly serious. "Not after what happened."
"We're going home." Pele stated. Her tone was firm, but there was a tremor in her voice that suggested that anything but going home was unthinkable.
"We can't go back to--,"
"Then we'll find somewhere else!" Pele snapped. "Malaekahana or Kaho'olawe or Puu Waawaa--,"
"Pele, Hawaii's not safe. Not now. Give it a few years to calm down, then maybe--." Makai's voice was soft and steady, obviously trying to comfort her sister.
"I'll call Mama Kai in the morning." Pele said sharply. "And we'll see about arranging a new place to live. Good night." There was the sound of a pillow being abused as it was forcibly fluffed and stuck under someone's head.
"'Night," Makai sighed, settling down. Splinter remained as still as stone outside the door. What had happened in Hawaii? Why wasn't it safe? He had been more than eager to get the girls out of the same house as his sons, but not if it meant shoving them into danger. What was the whole story?
