Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles, I just play with them. Austin is mine. Mine mine mine mine mine. The restaurant mentioned (Iovanni's) is also my own creation, because I'm not too familiar with New York 5-star restaurants. So I made my own. Wheeee! Artistic License is FUN!

Before the fic Author's Notes: This is more of a complaint than a note. I still haven't seen Same As It Never Was. And I desperately want to, because it looks like there's a lot of good fic based off that storyline. Why oh why can't they release the episodes on DVD any faster? sighs Ok. Done complaining.

Oh yes. And as of this chapter, Misadventures is officially an M rated story. …You're welcome.

FunFact:For those wondering, yes, Austin has been in contact with Jeremy frequently over the years. It was sort of a 'condition' of her leaving the Miracles. He wanted to make sure she stayed safe.

Misadventures of the Mentally Unstable

Chapter 14

Italics areAustin's thoughts or flashback. Or emphasis on a spoken word.

To my credit, I can happily say I didn't freak out. Yes, he surprised me, but it was something I could deal with. I didn't start screaming little girlie screams and throw things at Raphael, and tell him to get out of my room. I didn't turn and run back into the bathroom out of mortification, and I didn't gasp and frantically pull the towel off my head in an effort to cover what he'd already seen. When I was thirteen, and my body was just starting to develop, I had perverted guards staring at me like I was some private 24-hour peep show. But by then I'd already grown accustomed to being watched, and it was just another daily occurrence. Not that I didn't mind seeing the smoldering bodies of the guards lying on the floor on my way out of the Institute. I even kicked a few of them in the crotch for good measure, despite the fact they were obviously dead. Never waste a free shot.

Anyway. It did take me a few seconds to recover from the surprise of seeing Raph standing there. The shocked expression on his face had quickly given over to an amused smile that was now turning into an all out shit-eating grin. I glared at him and continued drying my hair, trying to pretend like I didn't care that he was looking at me in my butt naked glory. I lowered the towel and shook my hair out a bit, then calmly wrapped it around myself, still glaring.

"My face is up here."

Still grinning he looked up without an ounce of shame. "I have breakfast… unless you'd rather have something else…"

I glanced down and realized he was holding a bag of some sort… and then I smelled it. "Doughnuts?" I asked cautiously, wondering if, perhaps, he could be swayed down a different train of thought. It was only eight in the morning and despite the rude wake-up call, I was still rather tired. Sex was quite honestly, not one of my top priorities. I wanted to crash into my soft warm bed.

"Mmm." Was all he said. And I'm quite sure he wasn't actually referring to what was in the bag.

"That's a healthy breakfast." I said sarcastically, choosing to ignore his perverted look. "How the hell did you get doughnuts?"

He dropped the bag on the bed and took a step towards me, still grinning that Cheshire cat grin. "Had 'em delivered."

I pursed my lips and stood my ground. "I wasn't aware that-" I paused and looked at the name written on the bag. "-Kork's delivered."

"Kork's doesn't. Casey does." The name rang a bell. I thought, but wasn't sure, that Casey was one of their other human friends. June's boyfriend. …or was it April? …Probably May. I hadn't bothered to commit it to memory, but I'm pretty sure her name wasn't October or February. Oddly enough I had met a girl named September once. She was a perky petite blond and I'd always hated her. But back to the big green matter at hand. Raphael. He took a last slow step up to me, head half cocked, and grinning that fucking annoying grin.

I was just about to tell him off when he raised his hands and traced twin lines up my bare arms. It was eerily reminiscent of when I was in his kitchen right after the poker hand, and it achieved quite the same effect. I shivered slightly, his eyes lowering to where his fingers now were brushing my shoulders. They stopped. I saw the smile die on his face and his eyes grew too serious for the moment. Confused, I didn't say anything. Had he found some flaw on me that turned him off so abruptly? And if so, would he mind if I beat the living hell out of him?

"Shit…" Raphael whispered softly and I followed his eyes to where they were looking at my shoulders. A dark bruise just below my left shoulder; on the right was its mirror image. I stared down perplexed, until it finally dawned on me. Last night on the couch. He'd gripped my shoulders so hard his fingers left bruises. I had been right; Raph must not have realized his own strength… but then again, I always have bruised rather easily.

In all honesty, it wasn't that bad. The bruises were already fading from blue to a light brown with sickly pale yellow edges. I've suffered worse over the years and it didn't seem like a big deal to me. Apparently he thought differently. He stared at the bruises, not quite in horror but rather with the realization that he'd done something stupid. The look on his face was actually quite comical seeing as how it just didn't suit him. If I could have made some excuse for the marks I would have to let him off the hook, but he knew just as well as I did what had caused them.

"Raph?" I asked trying to sound as lighthearted as possible. "Don't worry about it, it's nothing."

He looked up at me, clearly not satisfied with words.

"Really, it's ok. I bruise easy and heal fast. Hell, this one time-"

"It's not okay." He interrupted harshly, attempting to beat himself up over it. Oh lord, just what I needed. For Raphael to turn into a depressed self-loathing turtle.

"Oh for god's sake." I rolled my eyes and leaned forward taking him completely by surprise. It took me by surprise as well. I hadn't meant to kiss him. The thought hadn't even entered my mind until I did it. And yet I found myself kissing him sweet, slow, and forgiving. It wasn't full of passion and longing; it was just a little thing, and when I pulled away he was still slightly stunned. I decided to make my point as clear as possible.

"Listen to me, dammit. It's nothing. I've received a hell of a lot worse during a night of rough sex, and if you even think of treating me like I'm some fragile little thing who'll break at the first touch then you better get the fuck of my apartment. If you're going to be my lover then I'm expecting to wake up feeling sore and covered in bruises every single morning, you got it?"

If someone were to ask me when the defining moment of my relationship with Raphael took place, I'd tell them… well… I'd probably tell them something else to save a lot of embarrassment on their part. But the truth would have been those few brief seconds when he was staring at me in astonishment as my words sunk into his brain.

When he slammed me up against the wall, I knew he'd understood me perfectly. At that point I didn't care though, because his mouth was on mine, and the towel I'd so deftly wrapped around myself under his focused gaze had been torn off and thrown unceremoniously to the floor. Any objections I might have had about taking someone of a different species to my bed were tossed out with the towel. But then again, we weren't actually in the bed yet, so it probably didn't matter. He was human enough for me.

In less than an instant, Raphael had taken me from calm, composed, and rather tired all the way to frantic, wanton, and extremely excited. …this was a new record, even for me. He had definitely earned his bragging rights, and we had hardly gotten started. Stars danced in my eyes, and I'm not sure if it was due to my arousal, or the fact that I'd been shoved violently up against a wall. Either way, I wasn't protesting. His hands left no part of my body untouched, and I don't know if I'd ever felt more alive than in this moment.

And when the phone rang, I was too busy crying out his name to bother answering it.

We didn't make love. There's no such thing in my opinion. It's a silly useless term to describe a physical act that in reality involves a lot of grunting, groaning, straining, screaming, pushing, pulling, and sweating. There's very little 'love' involved. It's 'fucking', plain and simple. Afterwards if the couple is so inclined, they can snuggle and cuddle together and whisper sweet nothings to each other and say they love each other so much.

Raphael and I didn't say any 'I love you's, either mid-coitus or post. It's not his way, and it's certainly not mine. There were plenty of other colorful words and phrases spoken between the two of us though. Besides I was pretty sure he wasn't in love with me. In lust, certainly, but not love. And I wasn't in love with him. The future possibility was there, but it was slim. After we'd finally settled down and were resting comfortably on top of my bed sheets, I'd finally taken a look at the clock. It was almost noon. Say what you will about turtles, you can't deny they have stamina. At least the mutant ninja variety has.

We lay there in a post-intercourse haze, breathing heavy and whispering sweet nothings to each other. …ok, not really. Had anyone been watching it might have looked like sweet nothings. It was actually more of an acknowledgment of each other's skills. 'You're amazing at doing that', or 'God I want you to do this next time', or 'I never knew doing such-and-such could feel so incredibly good'. Even after we were both spent though, we couldn't keep our hands off of each other. Light touches, teasing caresses… he even tickled me a couple times, damn him. And the kissing. God, was there ever kissing. I don't know who taught Raphael all his bedroom tricks, but if I ever met her I was going to buy her a drink and then send her a Thank You card.

The only thing that was bothering me about the whole affair was that neither of us had even stopped to consider protection the first time… or the second… or the third… But it had seemed like such a surreal situation, at least to me. I mean… it's not like I could get pregnant, right? I may not be a scientist, but I'm pretty sure there are way too many conflicting genes there. But… a small part of my mind set the idea on a back burner to simmer. Next time I'd be more careful.

For now though I was happily lying on my side, every once in a while wiggling my rear end back against his plastron in an effort to get closer. Raph would respond by growling softly and tightening his arm around me, pulling me firmly to him. His fingers were lazily tracing little patterns on my stomach and one thing was sure. I was definitely going to need another shower.

I yawned contentedly and stretched out a little, the soreness already starting to settle on my body. The feeling was wonderful and I thought if I were to die now it would be an extremely happy death. I'd forgotten what it was like curl up with someone in bed like this. It was an odd thing to think, but no guy I'd been with had made me feel like this since Jeremy. Maybe I was just more attracted to freaks. It's not like Jeremy was all that normal anyway. He was a Telepath for pete's sake. And I admit, I'd had a bit of a crush on Lucas as well. The fiery Magi had a temperament that rivaled Raphael's. Maybe it was just my karmic destiny to fall in with guys who couldn't operate in the norm of society. Legally, neither Jeremy, Lucas, nor Raphael existed.

I glanced down at the green three fingered hand that was stroking my skin and smiled. There was no denying, Raphael was extraordinary and he was mine… at least for a little while. Sooner or later one of us would bail; I was pretty sure it was going to be me. But for now, I was happy. Screw life, I just wanted to lay here in bed with him and forget everything. He didn't though.

"If that psycho-fuck doctor comes anywhere near you…" He nuzzled the back of my neck with his beak and tightened his hold further. "…I'm gonna gut him."

"Mmmm…" I closed my eyes and snuggled into my pillow. "How romantic."

"I will."

"I have dibs on him already."

Raphael was silent for a moment and I felt him move, propping himself up on one arm and leaning over me. I opened my eyes reluctantly and looked up at him. His face was deadly serious and it almost made me feel uneasy. "If I have anythin' to say about it, you won't get within a mile of him."

I sighed. I didn't really want to get into this discussion with him again. "I'm not saying I'm going to go looking for him. God, I'm not stupid, Raph. But on the off chance he shows up at my apartment and I happen to have a meat cleaver in my hand, I'm going to kill the fucker."

He narrowed his eyes at me and I knew he didn't like the idea. But I was distracted by his lack of an eye mask and I smiled. Somewhere in the trip from the wall to the floor to the bed, he'd lost his bandana and it somehow made him seem more… bald. But definitely cute. I reached up and pulled him down for another kiss, which he only resisted for a moment, probably still thinking about me going ballistic on someone with a cleaver. But he gave in rather quickly.

Now, I may have started the kiss, but it was Raphael who deepened it. The hand that wasn't holding him up started exploring and I was soon squirming with delight. And when the phone rang this time, I almost started laughing at the sheer irony of it. Raph looked up and glared at the offending object and if I hadn't reached for it, I'm sure he would have ripped the cord out of the wall. I made a mental note to remove the phone from the bedroom altogether.

"Hell-" I yelped in surprise as Raph bit my neck, not giving me a chance to finish my greeting. Apparently he objected to me answering the phone, although he no reason to. It wasn't like he hadn't been satisfied a couple times already this morning. Raph looked up with a wicked gleam in his eyes and I felt his hand move to my inner thigh. 'No', I mouthed to him, shook my head and then I spoke into the phone again. "Uh… hello?"

"Hi, Austin."

"Oh. Um… hey Leo." Raphael's eyes darkened and his playful touches stopped abruptly.

"Would you please put Raph on the phone. I know he's there." I bit my lip and looked at Raphael who was still holding himself above me.

"I… um… Yah." What else could I say? I wasn't going to lie to Leonardo. But it felt like I was admitting to some sort of crime by acknowledging Raph was there.

I gave Raph an apologetic look and held the phone out to him. He glowered at it for a moment before practically ripping it out of my hand and flopping down next to me on the bed.

"Whaddya want, Leo?" I could hear the irritation in his voice and decided I really didn't want to be in the room for this conversation. Besides, I was extremely thirsty after our rather… rigorous activities. I slipped out from under the phone cord and Raph gave me a look that clearly said he didn't want me to leave the bed. I smiled and pointed to the kitchen and mimed taking a drink of water. He frowned, probably at whatever Leo was saying to him on the other end of the line, but nodded that it was okay for me to leave.

I rolled my eyes at him. Like I needed his fucking permission. I didn't bother getting dressed. I'd probably just be hopping in to the shower soon anyway. Crossing the open space of the living room, I smiled as my naked skin was bathed in the sunlight coming in through the window. It was a nice happy feeling and I reveled in it for a second before the beep from the answering machine caught my attention. I still hadn't erased all of Jeremy's messages from last night. I stepped out of the light and up to the black marbled kitchen counter. Eight messages. I looked down at the blinking red '8' and wondered if Jer had called more times than I remembered.

I hit 'play' and let the messages cycle through. The first six were from Jeremy. His voice got progressively more anxious, and I couldn't help but feel a small wave of fear as I listened to them, this time knowing what he was talking about. He never spoke his name, and he never gave his number. Jeremy always had been over cautious and over dramatic. But then, he had more to worry about than I did. The only one I had to look out for was myself. He had his daughter and his girlfriend, neither of whom were 'normal'.

I glanced over at the fridge where a crayon drawing hung and wondered if Raph had noticed it. In large green letters was written "To Aunt Aus" on the top of the paper. Below it was a stick figure Jeremy, a stick figure Kylie, a young stick figure girl, and a stick figure me. All neatly labeled. The little girl's name read "Ivy", and she was holding the hand of stick figure me. It was oddly reminiscent of the drawing I'd done many years ago for Jason and Devon, and I wondered if that one was still hanging on Jason's fridge. Probably not. He'd most likely tossed it out long ago.

As I listened to Jeremy's voice I smiled at the thought of Ivy. She was a good kid. A little blond haired hellion that didn't take crap from anyone. Of all her 'aunts' and 'uncles', I was her favorite, god only knows why. Jeremy was going to have his hands full when she hit puberty. Those bouncy blond curls and gorgeous sapphire eyes were going to draw every straight male within 200 miles.

Jeremy's last message ended and I wasn't surprised to hear Leonardo's voice next. He sounded more than a little annoyed as he apologized for calling again so soon, then asked to have Raph call him back as soon as possible. …I blushed slightly as I realized it must have been him calling while Raph had me up against the wall. I hadn't even heard the phone ring a second time though. So it caught me by surprise when the next voice came on.

"Hello, Ms. Bridger? This is Michelle Drake, Mrs. Carmine's assistant. I'm calling to let you know your presence has been requested at a private luncheon today at 1:30."

I frantically glanced at the clock. It was 12:32 already. The assistant's voice continued on, rattling off an address and a phone number to call back and confirm the time. Then she hung up. I grabbed a piece of paper and listened to the message again, hastily writing down the information. Honestly, I hadn't expected her to get back to me this fast, if at all. I was safe. I grinned a confident little grin. Adair wouldn't be able to touch me now. Without even thinking that Raph might still be on the phone, I grabbed the handset and clicked it on. I got a dial tone and punched in the numbers quickly. Within only a few moments I'd confirmed with Michelle that yes, I would definitely be there, although it might be a few minutes late. I explained that I'd just gotten the message and she seemed very polite and said she'd inform Mrs. Carmine.

I hung up, and raced back to the bedroom. I had to shower and get out of here if I was going to make it on time. The restaurant I was supposed to meet Susan at was across town. But Raphael was still on my bed, reclining comfortably and looking for all the world like he expected me to hop back in with him. …it was tempting. I stared at him for a moment, almost forgetting about WHY I'd raced back into the bedroom. He was leaning back against the headboard, one leg stretched out in front of him, the other pulled up with a nicely muscled arm resting on the knee. His other hand was lightly sitting on his thigh, and the sight quite honestly, took my breath away. My eyes kept dragging back to those arms. God, he was sexy.

I swallowed hard and gestured to the bathroom. "I need to get cleaned and get out of here. Susan wants me to meet her at 1:30…" My voice trailed off as he glanced at the clock and then grinned and gestured for me to come to him.

"We got time."

"It's across town…" I said even as I walked toward him. God, I wasn't even putting up a fight. I was so freakin' weak sometimes.

Raphael sat up and growled softly as I reached his side of the bed. He pulled me down roughly and flipped me onto my back, straddling my thighs and pinning my arms to the bed in one swift movement. I whimpered… but not in protest. His voice was thick and demanding "I'm gonna make you scream… again."

And he did.

12:50pm found me taking the quickest shower of my life.

12:55pm found me racing through the apartment in the jeans from last night and a clean blouse that I'd found hiding in one of my drawers.

12:56pm found me in Raph's arms in a very ardent goodbye kiss.

1:00pm still found me in Raph's arms, with his hands under my blouse.

1:04pm found me bent over the little half wall next to the door, my blouse hanging open as I gasped his name repeatedly.

1:10 finally found me frantically flagging down a cab outside my building.

As I climbed in the backseat, the chubby white guy with the Brooklyn accent behind the wheel gave me a knowing look. My blouse was buttoned wrong, my face was still flushed, and I just know I still had that glazed look in my eyes. I hadn't bothered to wash my hair a second time, and wisps of hair were flying wildly out of the loose ponytail I'd pulled it into. I probably smelled like sex too.

Smiling sheepishly, I told the cabby where I wanted to go, and I'd give him an extra thirty if he got me there by 1:30. He took the challenge. Unfortunately, the ride wasn't nearly as exciting as my outing with Raph had been. As the cabbie whipped in and out of traffic, I sat back and re-buttoned my blouse, then tried to tame my hair as much as possible.

My thoughts were like a maelstrom in my head. Images of Raph bounced around in my mind and mingled with images of Susan, Jeremy, Ivy, and Devon. It was an interesting mix of contentedness, guilt, depression, nostalgia, and sheer bliss. I couldn't seem to settle on one thought, and I seriously considered telling the cabbie to head for the train station so I could just run away from it all. It wouldn't be the first time I'd done that to avoid responsibility. Something told me that even if I tried though, it would catch up to me sooner or later. Raph would find me, I was pretty sure… or Jeremy. Jer had excellent resources. Or worse still, Adair would find me. I sighed and closed my eyes. I might have just made the worst mistake of my life with Raph. Or maybe it was the best? I don't know. I bit my lip and tried to concentrate instead on the meeting I was heading for. How would Susan react? Would she run to me crying, thanking god that I was alive and had found her? Would she react coolly, smiling warmly and shaking my hand? Or would she treat me like the scum of the earth and tell me never to bother her again. I don't think that was going to be the case. She wouldn't have invited me to lunch if that was how it was going to play out.

As we neared the restaurant, the butterflies started beating wildly in my chest. I was more nervous now than I had been in my entire life. My hands went to the buttons of the blouse, double checking them to make sure they were all in place. I ran my fingers of my hair again and wondered if it would look better down instead of back in a ponytail. God, I shouldn't have worn these jeans...

The cabbie pulled over at 1:35pm. I gave him the thirty dollar tip as I climbed out. He deserved it. I honestly hadn't thought we'd make it before at least a quarter til. He gave me a last glance that could only be described as dirty. Ok, I'm easy, but I'm not that easy. I smiled smugly and shook my head 'no'. He grinned and shrugged his shoulders, then pulled away from the curb. I turned and got my first good look at the restaurant.

Holy shit. …I was definitely underdressed. It was called Iovanni's, probably named after the founder or some shit like that. …there was a doorman. Wearing a little dark blue uniform with gold trim and everything. I was way out of my league here. There was a small red carpet leading up to the little covered entrance that had the name of the restaurant embroidered on the canopy in gold stitching that matched the doorman's uniform. The windows were darkly tinted, presumably to give the customers inside privacy.

I wanted to turn tail and run. I should have realized the wife of a senator wouldn't dine at a regular old pizza parlor or anything like that. No, she would accept only the finest in dining cuisine. …The chefs here had probably never even heard of ketchup. …god, I hope she didn't expect me to pay for lunch. It would probably equal my last paycheck. With a shaky determination, I stepped up to the door.

The doorman gave me a kind look and asked if he could help me. I bit back a sarcastic response and pointed inside. "I… uh… I'm supposed to meet someone here."

He looked down at my jeans and steel toed boots and then back up to my face. He obviously didn't see many patrons dressed in street clothes. But I must not have violated any dress code, because he reluctantly reached for the large brass handle on the door and pulled it open for me. I thanked him politely and smiled just a bit nervously, and walked inside. And I stopped. Yes. Definitely WAY out of my league.

If the crystal chandelier didn't give it away, then the ornately carved marble statue in the lobby, hand woven tapestries hanging on the walls, and the framed Van Gogh piece that I was sure wasn't a replication certainly did. I wish I could say that I handled it all with grace and tact. …But I can't. I stood and gaped in wonder. It was beautiful. No, more than beautiful, it was magnificent. It was a place that I had no right to be in. And apparently the sharply dressed man standing at the little mahogany podium thought so as well. His eyes were shooting me daggers already, even though I'd just walked in the door. This was going to be a pleasant experience, I could tell already.

The balding man with an ugly little mustache waited for me to speak. Apparently I wasn't worth acknowledging which really pissed me off, yet I understood. I was in a different world here, one which his high-minded little brain didn't want to admit existed. I seriously considered telling him how I'd spent the last five hours in excruciating detail. But I don't think he would have appreciated that. Not to mention it probably would have gotten me arrested. I'm pretty sure some of the things Raph did to me were illegal in most states, even if he hadn't been a turtle.

Instead, I walked up to him with all the confidence I could muster, which wasn't very much, and told him I was supposed to meet someone here. The little nametag on his chest said "Clancy". He stared at me as if I'd spoken another language.

"Your name?" He asked with a little sneer on his lips. God, I wanted to kick him. I'd introduce him to Mr. Steel Toe. His crotch and my boot would have intimate knowledge of each other when I was done. But I resisted the urge, because that also, would probably get me arrested.

"Austin Bridger." I smiled politely, hoping to piss him off, but his expression changed.

"Ahh, Ms. Bridger…" Clancy looked me over again, and I swear I thought he was going to ask for proof of identification. He obviously didn't want to accept that I was actually supposed to be in the building. Instead, the little tuxedo man snapped his fingers and a fresh looking young man appeared out of practically nowhere. He turned to the new arrival and gestured in my direction. "Please show Ms. Bridger to the Ivory Room. Her party is already waiting there."

The young man gave a small bow and started to walk away. I quickly followed, not bothering to say anything more to the asshole at the podium. I was led down a richly decorated hallway, and then to an old fashioned gated elevator. The iron gates opened, and we stepped inside. I wanted to ask the young man if the guy in the lobby was always that much of an ass, but even this waiter seemed a bit too stuck up to appreciate my humor. He didn't even look at me, just stared straight ahead like some brainwashing subject. It was probably against policy to fraternize with the enemy. Because apparently that's what I was with the way I was being treated. If I hadn't been a guest of Mrs. Carmine, they probably would have thrown my denim-clad ass out the front door. The silence in the elevator eventually got to me nevertheless, and I found I couldn't stop from opening my big mouth.

"Nice place. Hey, is it true that Clancy was seen giving one of the waiters a blowjob in the kitchen?" The kid spluttered in surprise and gave me a shocked look. I shrugged nonchalantly. "Just repeating what I heard. Don't tell anyone though; I don't want to get him in trouble or anything." I congratulated myself silently. Nothing helped spread rumors around like telling someone not to tell.

The elevator doors opened and I stepped out in front of the still wide-eyed young waiter. He managed to regain his composure and guided me down the hall toward an intricately carved mahogany double door. He opened it and gestured for me to go inside, probably still trying to get the image of Clancy on his knees in front of one of his coworkers out of his head.

I hesitated. I still had time to run. But I wasn't a coward; this was nothing. I'd just go in… and… I had no idea what would happen next. I must have hesitated too long because the waiter coughed and gestured again. Nodding, I stepped through the door.

The Ivory Room didn't actually have much ivory in it. There was a white marble fire place on one side, but the rest of the walls were covered in rich dark wood bookcases filled with small busts, plants, and of course books. There were five large round tables spaced evenly around the room, all decorated with ivory tablecloths and gorgeous floral arrangements. There was only one table set for guests, and it only held two place settings, directly across from each other, the floral centerpiece having been moved to a shelf on the side wall. I stared in surprise.

Susan Carmine was not in the room. The waiter had closed the door behind me, leaving me alone with the only other occupant of the room. A man that looked to be in his late fifties was standing at one of the bookcases. He had turned from the book he was leafing through to look at me when the door had opened. With a smile that seemed more malevolent then I'd expected, he replaced the book on a shelf and stepped forward, extending his hand.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Bridger. My name is Evan Powell."

I gave him a confused look which he ignored. His dark grey suit was pristine, and I just knew it cost more money than my college education had. The bald head, wire-rimmed glasses, and slim, elegant fingers on his hand screamed 'lawyer'. And 'serial killer'. You know the type. 'He seemed like such a nice man…' Less than a minute in the same room as this man and already I knew something was wrong here. I couldn't trust this guy, that much I knew.

"Please, sit down." His mouth smiled, but I could see it didn't quite reach his eyes.

I didn't sit. "I'm sorry… but who are you?" Sometimes bluntness is the best option. He sat down and gestured to the seat across from him, and I let him win this round. I sat slowly and didn't take my eyes off him. "I thought I was going to be meeting Susan."

Powell steepled his fingers, his wrists and forearms resting on the table. I swear, I felt like I was in some suspense thriller movie. He was about to offer me the deal of my life, and if I refused I'd never be heard from again.

"I'm afraid Mrs. Carmine was unable to attend. She had… important matters to deal with at her office."

I stared at him, a sinking feeling in my stomach. So this was where I stood with her. She didn't want to see me. I was that little skeleton in her closet that she wanted kept buried. And this guy was here to do it for her. Stupid bitch didn't even have the balls to come here herself and tell me to my face that she didn't give a rat's ass about me.

"She doesn't want to meet me." I stated, a dark look coming over my face. It shouldn't have been that much of a surprise, and to be honest it wasn't. But I was disappointed, and more than a little scared. I wouldn't have her protection. I was free game for Adair then. I bet if she'd known about him, she'd probably have contacted him and told him where I was. I took that back. She'd have this guy call Adair. A nice little solution to her really big problem. "Ok, fine. So what does she want?"

The slimy weasel sitting across from me smiled. He could tell I wasn't stupid.

"I'll cut to the chase then. You must understand, Ms. Bridger, that Mrs. Carmine is a very respectable person. Her husband is a prominent politician up for re-election this term, and something like this.." He waved his hand across the table, presumably to indicate my entire existence. "…could really cause some… difficulty for their family." Powell had just confirmed what I was thinking. Apparently 'family' didn't include a long-lost daughter from a life she was trying to hide.

"So she wants me to leave her alone. Fine, I've done that all my life."

"It's not as simple as that, you see. There's still the possibility that someone might leak this information to the press." And of course by 'someone', he meant me.

"Well then, what do you propose?" I wanted to get out of here as fast as I could. Despite what he or my mother was afraid of, I had no intentions of dragging myself into the spotlight. The absolute last thing I wanted was my name in the papers. Even if Susan had been willing to meet with me, I wouldn't have wanted press coverage of it. That's just inviting trouble.

He gazed at me for a moment, and I wondered if I was supposed to cower under his intimidating stare. If so, then he was going to be sorely disappointed.

"It seems, Ms. Bridger, that this is where the problem arises." He frowned and opened the black briefcase sitting on the table that I only just now noticed. "I've advised Mrs. Carmine against this course of action, but she seems to think it the most efficient. I have here, papers for you look at." He slid a bundle of papers across the table and I looked down at the fine print. God, I hated lawyers.

Picking the document up I glanced over it, reading what seemed to be the main highlights. There was silence in the room as I flipped through the papers, and when I finally put it down, I looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Is this even legal?"

"I assure you, it is." His tone was calm and exuding honesty, but I wasn't sure I could believe him. I hadn't studied law, but that suspense thriller feeling was coming back and I looked over the papers one more time. There was no way this was legal.

"Let me see if I understand this. My mother wants to buy my silence." I waved the document at him.

"Yes. Just tell us what you want, Ms. Bridger, and we'll negotiate."

I laughed, even though nothing was funny. "You've got to be fucking with me. She'll give me anything I want, if I just sign this contract?"

"Anything within reason, yes. Mrs. Carmine wants this situation resolved as quickly and efficiently as possible." I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was highly objected to this course of action. I couldn't blame him. Susan must be desperate to hide her past if she was willing to take a drastic measure like this. "Tell me Ms. Bridger, what do you want?"

I sat, dumbstruck. That bitch. That fucking bitch. She deserved it if I ran to the press this afternoon and blabbed her story to the world. But I didn't want anything from her. She could go to hell for all I cared… except for one little piece of information that only she knew.

"Okay." I said at last, sitting up in my chair. "I'll tell you what I want. A name."

"A name?"

"My father's name. First, middle and last. And if that bitch lies to me then I'll run to the press as soon as I find out."

Powell tapped a finger on the table and gave me a calculating look. "All you want is a name?"

I thought for a moment then went for the smart-ass approach. "And twenty million dollars in my bank account by tomorrow afternoon. If that's not possible, I'll take it in small unmarked bills. …In a black briefcase, preferably delivered by a man who has it handcuffed to his wrist like in those gangster movies. And I get to keep the briefcase. My mother owns a multi-billion dollar business, I'm sure she can spare a briefcase."

If Powell appreciated my sense of humor, he didn't let it show. In fact, I'm pretty sure he had no sense of humor whatsoever. I stood up. As far as I was concerned, this meeting was over.

"Ms. Bridger, if you would plea-"

"Thank you for the wonderful lunch, Mr. Powell." Ok, so I was a bit sad that I hadn't gotten to try the fine cuisine of this restaurant, but I certainly didn't want to share a meal with this ugly bastard.

"Ms. Br-"

"I told you what I want. It's in Mrs. Carmine's hands now." I didn't say goodbye, and he didn't say anything more as I stalked out of the room.

I was practically fuming by the time I reached the lobby, and it's a good thing Clancy didn't say anything to me because I probably would have kicked him. He gave me another condescending look though and let me pass. He must have been afraid I'd stick around longer if he said anything to me. My only consolation was that rumors were probably already starting to spread about him throughout the kitchen staff.

I pushed the door open violently, startling the poor doorman. I didn't apologize; I wasn't in the mood for niceties. Who the hell did that bitch think she was? I should have ripped the contract up and thrown it in Powell's face. But if she did agree to my terms, and give me my father's name, then I'd sign the papers, legal or not. I don't know what I'd been hoping for, so it was hard to be disappointed at the outcome of the meeting. I at least had thought she'd meet me face to face, but I suppose it was human nature to not want to be reminded of your mistakes. And I was a pretty big mistake.

As I stalked down the street, people avoided me. This was a ritzy part of town, and I suppose I looked out of place in my ten-dollar blouse, thick black boots, and designer knock-off jeans. The pissed off expression on my face didn't help my image much either.

I finally came to a bus stop and sat down on the bench. I didn't care where the bus was going, I just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. Looking down at my legs, I was surprised when a drop of rain hit them. Sun was shining all around me, and there wasn't a cloud in sight. With a start I realized it wasn't rain; I was crying. I wiped the tears away quickly and willed no more to fall. What the hell was wrong with me?

But I knew. I didn't want to admit it, but I knew. I was hurt. My mother didn't want me. The woman who fucking gave birth to me didn't want anything to do with me, and it hurt like hell. It shouldn't have, I knew. I'd spend my life avoiding silly emotions like love and compassion… and to now find out she didn't give a shit whether I was alive or laying dead in a gutter somewhere… it hurt.

I don't know how long I sat there, but when the bus pulled up, I didn't get on. I just couldn't find the strength to get up. The driver called out of the door to me, but I didn't answer; I didn't even look up. I watched the tires pull away and was alone once more.

Raphael was waiting for me at home. I didn't want to go to him. I wanted to wallow in my self-pity for a while longer. It was too early to get drunk, besides… I really needed to cut back on the alcohol intake. Devon had said as much, but it was one of those rare moments when I didn't listen to him. There was never a time when I didn't have beer in my fridge. On the other hand, who really cared if I drank myself to death? Susan sure didn't. And Devon was gone. Raph? I was just a fucktoy for him. It probably wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility to say that as soon as something better came along, he'd be out of my bed and into someone else's. Can't say I'd blame him though. I'd done the same to countless guys over the years.

Yes, it was definitely a self-pitying, self-loathing kind of day. I hadn't even gotten to eat a doughnut before I'd left home. True, they'd been knocked onto the floor and stepped on, but even a squished doughnut is better than no doughnut.

So… I didn't want to go home, and I certainly didn't want to stay here. But where the hell could I go? The Café was out of the question because that was as good as going home. There was always… My thoughts trailed off as I realized what I could do to waste a few hours.

I got off the benched and flagged down the first cab I saw. I climbed into the backseat and leaned forward, giving the driver the address of a house located in a suburb about twenty minutes outside the metropolitan area.

I was going to prove Jeremy wrong. I was going to David's house.

After the fic Author's Notes: Yes, Austin likes her sex rough. For many reasons, one being that anything too sweet or emotional leads to caring, and caring leads to having to leave, and leaving means… uh… leaving. And past circumstances have shaped and molded her preferences to where what some consider harsh or severe, she finds comforting. This is why being shoved up against the wall and treated rather violently turns her on extremely quickly. But don't think she's being all sub or anything. She gives just as good as she gets. (And just to let y'all know, sooner or later there will be an NC-17 version of this chapter posted to the Misadventures LJ, but I won't promise anytime soon. I'll keep y'all updated on that)

And by the way, raise your hands if you've ever had a relationship like this? All passion and whirlwind sex, and putting your life on hold because you find the guy just so damn sexy? …oh yah. I've had that happen. You're late for everything because you just can't keep your hands off each other. It usually wears off in about a month or so, when you realize there's more to relationships than… y'know… sex. ….but at least you're left with memories of damn good sex.

ahem- Anyway. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. And yes, Austin is going to go do something stupid. –sigh- I thought Jer told her to stay away from David's place? …obviously Austin had never been good at doing what other people say.

Oh, and one more thing. One of the reasons I've been taking so much time to get this chapter out, is I've re-discovered my love of making jewelry. And one of my silly little projects is to make one bracelet to represent each turtle. Three of them have already been posted to the Misadventures LJ, so go there if you want to see what else I do with my spare time.

Notes to My Reviewers:

Reinbeauchaser: You're right about that little section, it was a mistake. I'd started one sentence, then another, and somewhere along the line forgot to delete it, and then missed it the two times I read through the chapter looking for errors. I hate it when that happens… oh well. This is what happens when you don't use a beta. :) -lectures all would-be writers out there- Betas are your friends!

grins- And I just love your little 'punched with a sock' line. I fell over giggling at that, because I can see Mikey doing it.

Ahh, I was wondering if anyone would notice the clothes hypocrisy. See, here's where Austin's mind starts to get difficult. She hates clothing, but due to social standards obviously has to wear them. But she figures if she's going to dress, she's going to dress to impress. She knows what looks good on her, and tight clothes get her what she wants when it comes to guys. At home though, she pretty much wanders around in her birthday suit whenever possible. (I know that might sound kind of silly, but I know people like this. They love to be naked, but at the same time love tight fitting-clothes).

Thanks for the wonderful review again!

Buslady Of SoCal: Oooh, there will definitely be an epilogue. Actually, I already have the epilogue written down in my head almost word for word. It hasn't changed since about… the 5th chapter of the story. I've decided to give Misadventures a definite ending that will lead into the sequel. …-shakes head sadly-. And I've already got an idea for a 3rd story, but don't know if I'm going to take it that far.

Reluctant Dragon: I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter, and I hope this one is just as good. It took me forever to write. I got stuck during the 'snuggling' scene and just couldn't seem to move the story on for a while. But once I got to the phone call from Leo, the rest of the chapter pretty much flowed.

I am having issues trying to keep the story as humorous as it started out. Sometimes I think it's getting too serious, so I hope you and my other readers are finding all the little bits that I try to stick in there.

Isis-Lament: -does a happy dance- I'm glad you think it's good enough to be on your favorites list! -grins like an idiot-

Hehe, most people seem to have loved that little "Well you're just… weird" line. I was so worried about that being in there. I just wasn't sure if it seemed to unrealistic to break the tension or too 'silly' or whatnot. With the response I've gotten though, I'm glad I left it in.

As for country music… well… I can see if Raph was like, this big ol' closet Garth Brooks fan or something, and tried to hide it from everyone to keep up his image. That would make for a pretty funny fic in my opinion. But I agree, sometimes fans just get too determined to mold a character into what they think he should be instead of what he really is. Just my two cents on the subject. :)

SpiderWoman-DonnysNinjaGurl: Thanks for the review:) I'm always happy to hear from new reviewers. Hopefully you liked this chapter as well! And I agree, Don is very awesome. Hopefully he'll come back into the story soon. I've neglected him and Mikey lately.

The REAL Cheese Monkey: Now you know what Raph was gonna do to Austin-in-a-towel. Hehehehehe. If you ask me, she didn't mind all that much…

Trillian4210: -giggles and turns up the 70's porno music as well- You have no idea how hard it was for me to write this chapter. I had issues trying to determine how far I could take it without being overly graphic. Hopefully I pulled it off ok. –crosses fingers- I guess I'll find out.

And thanks for the compliments on my writing. I don't know if it's just my perception or not, but I'm finding that it's easier to work on the chapters the further I go. I think the first 4 or 5 chapters weren't as confidently written as these later ones. I think I'm finally getting a 'feel' for the story if you know what I mean, and it's so much easier to write. I'm definitely going to look into some classes though next term. :)

FairDrea: -grin- I hate that feeling, when I REALLY get into a fic and basically put my life on hold until I can find out what happens. …of course, usually I'm putting Misadventures on hold because I've found a fic that captivates me. And then my reviewers aren't happy when it takes longer for chapters. Oh well. :)

Yay for stalkers, by the way. Hehehe.

danceingfae: Oooh, a fellow west-coaster! I'm glad you decided to read my story and review! Hopefully you'll think the future chapters are just as good! Ironically, this story was originally meant as a little 4-chapter piece. …And now it's turning in a frickin' novel. I don't know how this happened! ….uh.. so anyway. Thanks for reviewing!

Echo: (I didn't want to repost your whole e-mail addy here, just in case so I shortened it. Hope you don't mind.) Oooh, thanks for the awesome review! I really appreciate it! A lot of my time at work is spent brainstorming, so I've built this huge background on Austin, and only brief glimpses of it are being shown in the story. Sometimes I have a hard time remembering what I've written down, and what's in my head, and how much the readers know already and what-not. It's very complicated, and it just gets more so with each chapter. But I'm still having fun with it, and hopefully the readers are as well!

And if I could make Raph real? Mmmmmm. I wouldn't keep him for myself either. No, I'd charge admission to my bedroom! Five bucks an hour or something. I'd make a killing even at THAT low price. –grins-

kaya lizzie: -giggles and dodges the broom-

I hope this chapter was to your satisfaction. I know it was to mine… -thinks happy thoughts- Hah! Now that the smutty scene is out of the way I can get back to what this story is REALLY about. Plot. …or something… I don't know. More smut might be a good idea… Smut smut smut. …uh…. What was I saying? ….oh well. SMUT!

Mikaela's Spade: My muse is very naughty, as you can tell from this chapter. She made me write it, I swear. I didn't want to, but she forced me to! Hehehe. Thanks for the review, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!