Donatello and Michelangelo circled each other slowly. "I don't like this," Donny said without taking his eyes from his opponent's.

"What, practicing?"

"No – just the fact that Leo gets a session with Sensei and Raph's taking a private lesson from our mortal enemy and here we are by ourselves. I feel neglected."

"Dude, relax," Michelangelo advised. "Just enjoy it while we can. This is way easier. I'm sure Splinter will torture us later, if you really want him to."

But Splinter was very busy with Leonardo. So busy, in fact, that he didn't even notice when Raphael slipped out of the dojo to go fetch some things from the closet…

For a moment Raphael watched Shredder struggle to fasten his armor with only one hand. "Uh, do you need help with that?"

"No."

Raphael ignored his answer, helping to buckle shoulder-guards, wrist-guards, and the helmet. "Do you want the shin guards, too?"

"Of course. When you said armed I assume you meant fully armed?" Shredder demanded. "I want everything I came here with. You can fight with whatever toys you choose."

It sounded fun, but Raphael hesitated. "I thought you would borrow a weapon from Leo or Mike. You can't fight with just your armor versus my sais. That's not fair – I'm armed and you're not."

"But you're also stupid, and I'm not. So it's fair," Shredder insisted.

"Don't forget, you have a serious physical handicap."

"And you have a serious mental handicap." Shredder laughed softly. "I'm not afraid to fight you."

Raphael finished with the shin guards and got to his feet. He had to tilt his head pretty far back in order to make eye contact, but he managed. "Fine, but we do this civilized. You better not make any 'mistakes,' Shredder."

"I'll be careful. Nothing serious, and we'll only fight til first blood. Is that safe enough for you? Or should we file the edges off our weapons and wear pads, like beginners?"

Raphael sighed. "It's not funny. If I get hurt, Splinter'll come after you."

Shredder sank into a fighting stance. "Now, there is incentive."

Raphael twirled his sais and tried to look intimidating. It was hard, though, because he was having the time of his life and his smile just wouldn't go away. "That's it, can-head, you're gonna get it!"

Shredder cracked his neck and angled himself to make the most of his one working arm. "Somehow, that threat is more effective when there's four of you delivering it…and even then, it fails to scare me, every time."

"Oh, that's it!" Raphael launched himself in the air, making a premature dive for his enemy. Unsurprised, Shredder spun out of the way and delivered a perfectly timed kick to Raph's midsection, winding him. Raphael couldn't get his feet under him properly and landed in a heap on the floor.

While Shredder stood over his dazed adversary with his hands on his hips, Splinter and the other turtles abandoned what they were doing to come handle the situation. They relaxed a little when it was clear that Shredder wasn't going to make a move until Raphael got up, but still…

"Um, Raph, are you ok?" Michelangelo asked slowly.

Shredder answered for him. "He's fine. He's just regretting his offer to train with me, that's all."

"Well, it is good practice," Donatello conceded. "Nothing like a friendly sparring match with our good friend the Shredder to spice things up, eh?"

"I was looking for an opportunity to really exercise my skills before we go out fighting monsters, but so far the match hasn't been very challenging," Shredder scathed. "Perhaps we ought to break my other arm to even things up."

"Be happy to," Raphael snarled, springing to his feet. He stuck his sais in his belt and they went at it hand-to-hand for a little bit. Shredder was making excellent use of his legs to compensate for only having one useful arm, and Raphael was impressed despite himself. I didn't think it was POSSIBLE for a guy so old to kick so hard, he thought as he was forcefully booted into the wall for the second time. He heard a cracking noise and hoped it was the wall and not his head.

Shredder seemed to have the same concern, and backed off for a moment until Raphael could stand on his own again. Annoyed at this proof that Shredder was going really easy on him, Raphael reached for his neglected sais and decided to get serious.

His enemy was unruffled, and only waved his claws through the air with an intimidating whoosh.

Now, though, Raphael had a decided advantage. One arm short of a fair chance, Shredder had to resort several times to parrying with his shoulderguards or even the armor on his shins, performing strange acrobatic maneuvers to catch Raph's blades on whatever metal protection he had.

If Raphael had been thinking instead of attacking mindlessly, he would have realized that Shredder was merely biding his time. Instead, though, caught up in the excitement and certain of victory, he made one tiny little technical error…

And that was enough for Shredder to catch his sais, one with his hand-guard and one with his helmet, and toss them off to the side. Before he could get away and grab them again, Shredder had tripped him up and come down on top of him.

There was a knee across his throat, severely restricting his oxygen supply. Still, Raph was loathe to beg for mercy, and tried to get his feet under him to buck Shredder off. It wasn't working, but no matter how hard Shredder pressed down on the turtle's neck Raphael was still unwilling to cry uncle.

When it became clear that Raphael was fading, Splinter ordered Shredder to get off. Raphael lay still for a few minutes, enjoying his ability to breathe, and waited until the dancing black spots faded from his vision. "Wow," he said finally.

"You fought well," Shredder allowed. "In fact, I would almost say: if we were really fighting and you were really trying to stick me with a serious injury, I might have been worried."

Donatello whistled. "A compliment from the Shred-head. How do you like that?"

Shredder turned to him. "I said almost, turtle. Your abysmal track record against me suggests that no matter how imposing Raphael seems in practice, in battle I would really have nothing to fear."

"Woulda, shoulda, coulda," groaned Raphael from the ground. "Someday you'll see, tin-grin."

"Hmmm. Might be a little more convincing if you didn't just get your butt kicked," Leonardo pointed out.

"Yeah, dude. Let me handle this." Michelangelo twirled his chucks menacingly, then repeated: "Someday you'll see, tin-grin."

"Oh, that's good," encouraged Shredder. "Perhaps if you all practice it in unison it will have a better chance of being true."

Splinter easily governed his urge to smile. Of all the things he had expected to come of Raphael's ill-considered plan to spar with the houseguest, friendly bickering was not one of them. He hoped that it signaled a growing willingness on the part of his sons and their enemy to work together. If they were going to go after the pizza-monsters, they would certainly need it.

And as he watched Shredder sharpen his blades later that night, he hoped that the pizza-monsters would be the only enemy his sons had to contend with during the hunt.

The fact that every night in his sleep Shredder repeated something that sounded suspiciously like "turtle soup" was not reassuring.

TBC. Sorry this chapter took so long and sorry it was so fighty. I don't expect the next chapter to share either of those two qualities (well, maybe the fighty bit…)

Review, tell me what you think!