Well, Reinbeauchaser(and everyone else who asked for another chapter), ask and you shall receive. Here is your sequel. (Thanks for making me write it!) Maybe not exactly how you imagined it, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!
I never in my wildest dreams thought that
everyone would like this fic this much! I almost didn't post it, too...
This fic is from the Movie-Verse. I think I'll let you guess who's talking.
She really doesn't know how beautiful she is.
I mean, she's sittin' in one o' my old hockey jerseys an' socks, drinkin' coffee an' reading the paper, and she looks like a flippin' angel.
I tell her that, and she rolls them big brown eyes up at me and gives me one o' them patented, Don't-Mess-with-Me-I'm-April-O'Neil glares from under a mass of crinkly auburn hair.
'Yeah, right.' She says, and she goes right back to her paper.
She's always doing stuff like that, just letting compliments slide right offa' her. I don't know why- I mean, I ken still remember the look on her face when I first called her a babe… O' course, we were surrounded by those crazy ninjas and Raph was practically dead at the time… She had this unbelieving, sarcastic sorta' sneer on, like she couldn't believe that I was callin' her a babe. Come to think of it, maybe that wasn't exactly a good situation to be flirtin' in…
She's always snortin' or sayin' somethin' sarcastic when I call her beautiful. Says that I'm being silly, that she's not beautiful. 'Pretty maybe, but even that's a stretch.' Pfft.
For a reporter, she's awful unwilling to admit the goddamned truth.
It don't matter whether she's all done up on TV, or if she's just sittin' around in sweats and eatin' Ben n' Jerry's ice cream right outta' the container. She's always gorgeous t' me.
I just like lookin' at her. I dunno what it is about her that sucks me in. I mean, Ape's like the total opposite of my last, uh, girlfriend. Skinnier, less curvy, a whole busload more sass, common sense…
But I never looked at her, really looked at her, like I do April.
April… she has that kinda' presence that grabs everyone's attention the minute that she steps into a room. Lights the room like a lightbulb bein' turned on. She makes everyone she meets want to see her more, know her more, be a better man fer 'er…
An' she still denies th' fact that she's beautiful. She just doesn't look at herself the way that I do- that's gotta be her problem.
But so help me God, I will convince her, one of these days.
And if I have to keep on lookin' at her for the rest o' time fer that t' happen, I'll guess live an' die a happy man.