DICLAIMER: I delcare that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are not mine…I'm just borrowing them for a spell, making no money from it, blah blah woof woof…

As far as I can tell, there hasn't been alot of fic done on the Keno character from the second installmnent of the TMNT trilogy...so after watching it one night, I plucked up the shiny new idea, (which I have notoriuos habits of starting but not really finishing), and said... Well, what the heck!

So tell me what you think...

&&&&&&

By the time he'd reached the last delivery address for the night, the uniform jacket had soaked through to the skin.

So much for light showers! Keno smiled in spite of himself. After this last delivery, Marco had caved and said he could clock off- provided, of course, he made a point to arrive extra early to his first shift next week.

But it's not next week just yet, it's Friday, and after this…Total Annihilation, he thought. Shivering, he shrank into the reasonably dry comfort of his jacket. The rain had eased slightly, but he manoeuvred the route with care. The last thing he needed as an accident on the job- he'd be fired for sure, and at the moment, finance's weren't stable enough for that. He'd have to make the best of it.

With a flick, he killed the motor, and the bike jumped forward, cutting out after a second. Keno glared down at the derelict piece of crap, wondering again why he didn't just cave and ask Marco for the shop's motorcycle.

Must be a little to do with pride- he had too much to be reduced to begging, especially if he had to stomach his boss's smirking face. He'd probably end up punching the jerk in it one of these days.

But not today, he whistled.

The building took up a full half of a city block, towering two stories above its neighbours. The rain torrents at either side of the roof spilled gushes of the downpour like twin waterfalls, and he was careful to walk the bike though the open gate, leaning it against the fence. His eyes studied the place; sure was fancy.

Keno paused for a second; a little voice in the back of his head questioning why the owner of a crib like this brought pizza for dinner. He pulled the box out of the Velcro sealed bag at the back of the bike, and straightened, flinging the dripping hair out of his eyes with a sharp shake of the head.

And cheap pizza at that! Stepping forward, he followed the path to the front door, and stood, sheltered under the alcoved awning overhanging the steps. He froze as his hand reached for the doorknocker, sparing a glance either side at the menacing stone gargoyles that flanked the steps. He shivered with a tiny chill, then turned back to the door.

The eyes of the thing…Keno guessed a demon head, as he wrapped his dripping cold fingers around the ring hanging down from it's mouth, seemed to glint in the light. He moved his head slightly back; the light catching the red orbs with a strange glow, before he shook himself.

"Pizza delivery!"

No one answered. Keno shrugged. He knocked again, and then waited.

After a moment, he decided to leave. The entire house had gone from impressive to freakish within the space of sixty seconds. Backing away from the door, he backtracked, mounting the bike with a sudden burst of speed.

Gunning the motor, he darted through the open gates, unaware of the mounted exterior camera following his every move, the lens tracking in to focus in on his face, then stopping.

As he wove in and out amongst the traffic, he grinned at his sudden fortune. Now, at least, he had food to bring to the guys place. Automatically, his spirits lifted.

A little R &R at the subway with food and TV, before practise. Nothing better!

Several cars honked at him, but he was too lost in his plans to notice. He took a left into the alley behind Marco's, then parked.

He was looking forward to the break; lately things hadn't been going great, but at least he could forget for a couple of hours.

He hoped.

&&&&&&&&

"…It's time for –Total Annihilation!" Keno and Mikey shared a look.

As the TV screen flickered to life with dull colour, the pair grinned. "Boo-yaw!" Mikey held his hand up in a classic high five, and Keno obliged, settling into the lumpy sofa, smiling internally as the turtle's attention turned immediately towards the coffee table.

The low rickety plank was littered with a lavish assortment; pizza boxes crowded one corner, chip and popcorn of all types, filled bowls that added to the low bow of the table surface. He surveyed the spread with satisfaction, gaze flittering back to the screen.

He frowned slightly, "Can't you get any better reception?"

The orange bandana-ed turtle shook his head. "Sorry Keno-man, fixing the TV for Wrestle mania ain't very high on Donny's list of priorities." Mikey's face turned back to the table, but Keno caught the nervous flicker in his eyes, and he sighed in frustration.

"Did you ask him about it?"

"Ummmmm….well, not in so many words…"

"So, what'd he say about watching Wrestle-mania?"

"Maybe, 'ask' is too direct of a word…"

"Does he even know the TV's on the fritz?"

"No," Mikey drew out the 'o', squirming back into the dilapidated cushions.

Keno rubbed his eyes, a headache building at the back of his neck. "Well, what exactly did you do?"

"I dropped some VERY hinted suggestions…kind of…"

"Miiikkkey!" Sighing, he sank back into his corner, irritation climbing. The guys had disappeared up the ladder three hours ago, armed ready to enjoy some 'Foot' minion ass-kicking.

Splinter had spent the greater part of the day meditating, emerging from his rooms' one or twice, and Keno barely had the chance to acknowledge the rat before he too, disappeared for the evening.

That left two people- himself or Mikey. Keno lifted an eyebrow at the turtle, now trying unsuccessfully to catch popcorn with his mouth. Hoisting his tired muscles out of the chair he rounded the table to stand behind the television, and began looking.

"Whatcha doin?" Mikey's eyes tracked his movement, and watched his friend's head bobbing up from behind the TV aerial. Mildly curious, he followed, bending over beside Keno, munching noisily.

Ignoring the sound, Keno pulled at the casing, which gave way after a second, setting at the ground then straightening. Mikey's whistle brought his head up; the mess of multicoloured wires and cobwebs came into view, and he groaned to himself.

So much for easy…Now which one of these is the aerial… His hand froze, poised above the tangle, when Mikey cut in. "Maybe we should wait for the others…"

"You want to miss Total Annihilation?"

"No…but…"

"Well, come on." He hunkered down, determined.

Mikey crouched down next to him. He eyed the circuitry for a second, then turned. "Do you know anything about electrics?"

Keno's brow crinkled, and he tried to recall, that five summers ago when his parents sent him to his uncle, the electrician. The only thing he remembered, was being bored.

Damn it. He brought one finger up, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "If we cross those wires…or leave them alone…Or maybe…"

"Maybe, huh…Dude that's a no, then?" grinning, Mikey straightened.

Keno sighed, out of ideas, and nodded in agreement. "Yep. None…when are those guys coming back…"

The voices drifting in from the entrance answered the question before he'd even finished asking. He turned back to the wire tangle, the noises growing closer, until a hand landed on his shoulder. He jumped, head moving up to see the smiling face of Leonardo.

"Hey Keno. Didn't scare you now, did I?"

Keno pulled a fake smirk. "Funny." Mikey chuckled over on the couch.

He sent him an evil look, before his gaze flickered back to the problem at hand. Mikey continued on, oblivious.

"Good one Leo. How'd the patrol go?" Dropping into one of the overstuffed chairs, Donatello exhaled wearily. "Good."

"Just good! Come on man…"

Raphael, sending an angry glance in Keno's direction, before he too, moved to sit. "What's to tell? We went, found some Foot, and kicked their butt. End of story."

Leo, in the middle of pulling his bo staff off his back, focused his gaze on the table. "What's all this for?"

Donatello leaned forward, sniffing at some of Mikey's more interesting toppings on one of the pizzas. "Yeah, I mean we're used to your eating habit's Mikey, but this is slightly excessive, even for you."

Keno grinned, and he and Mikey replied in one voice. "Total Annihilation!"

Donny nodded sagely. "Ahhh, the annual ninja rite of…Wrestle-mania specials."

Mikey waved a hand. "Uh uh. Not just any specials…The King of all Kings…the Mother of all Mothers. The…"

Leo cut in, shifting down in the seat. "Yeah, yeah. We get it. It's big." He eyed the table. "So all this," he gestured at the table, then at the TV, arm swooping down to point in Keno's direction "is for that."

Mikey nodded, happily munching away. "Yep." He swallowed after several seconds of silence. "If we can get the TV working, that is."

"What's wrong with it?" Donny asked, leaning forward with a gleam in his eyes, one Keno recognised from every lecture Donatello had given during the 'ooze' incident. The scientist had awakened.

"The resolution's crap…but I think," he stopped, suddenly unsure. "I think it's the aerial…I think…" He rushed out, feeling stupid as it met with silence.

The turtles shared an uneasy look.

Leonardo cleared his throat. "Ah, Keno…how much do you know about fixing TV's?"

Keno shifted uncomfortably on his hunches. "Well, not much…But there was this time I…"

Donny stood, face tired. "I'll fix it…I think I've got a screwdriver lying 'round here." He looked from side to side, searching. After a moment he sent the others an impatient scowl. "Come on guys, help look."

Grumbling, the other three turtles rose, and Keno felt a surge of annoyance that they'd dismiss him so quickly. Mikey lifted up the remote, and then gave up with a shrug, while Donny and Leo checked the couches, and Raph remained motionless, rolling his eyes.

Keno began wiggling wires at random, the irritation in the back of his head growing. After a minute of fruitless searching, he protested. "It's okay, I'll just get it."

Leo's voice cut in. "No. Donny's right. We'll just keep looking for the screwdriver. Don't touch anything."

"But…"

"No," Leo had wound up into leader mode again, and Keno felt his shackles rise at being ordered around. The tangle of wires seemed to taunt him, and he narrowed his eyes. Cautiously, his fingers brushed over an unmarked red wire.

He mused quietly. In the movies, it was always the red wire that diffused the bomb; but he wasn't that stupid. Experimentally, he began wriggling it.

"Hey," Mikey suddenly piped up, "Something's happening to the TV." Now encouraged, Keno ignored the four sets of eyes that suddenly speared into him, and wiggled the wire more forcefully.

"Maybe if I…"

"NO, DON'T" The command was yelled from several different directions, but too late. The screen disappeared into a pinprick of light, and the machine gave an irritated whine, then died.

Shit.

Keno peered over the top of the TV, eyes widening at the expressions on their faces.

Raphael was wearing his pinched, 'I'm-5-seconds-away-from-hitting-something' scowl, and Keno didn't need to figure out who was going to get it.

Leo and Donatello looked annoyed, but less so than their brother.

Mikey's expression was the worst. Sad didn't even begin to cover it. His head was sinking into his chest, eyes downcast. All the excuses ready on the tip of Keno's tongue sank into his stomach when he saw the youngest turtle's look.

Michelangelo could easily, at any point in time, produce a teary puppy look with enough skill to get away with anything. His brothers were used to it, and over the past couple of weeks, Keno had recognized the look.

The look on the turtles face now, although, Keno realized with rising guilt, was not that look. That coupled with the fact that Mikey was silent, was enough to push him to realize that he'd screwed up.

It's not really my fault that the TV's an old piece of rubbish…

"Oh well," Mikey recovered his voice, but it slightly betrayed him, sounding overly chipper, and completely out of character. "There's always next year's final." Raph grunted, moving from the lounge, to the dojo with a look that said it all. They all heard him mutter, 'Stupid kid', before rounding the corner.

To Keno, it felt like it'd been yelled across the room. He caught Donny and Leo's shared look that basically said the same, before they too pushed themselves off the couches to head to different areas of the platform.

He tried to ignore his own flaring temper; Raph's short fuse had lashed out at them all at one point or another, but like the blow-out of one of Mikey's jokes, they shrugged it off, too used to it to care much.

The silence in the lounge lasted several more seconds; neither he nor Mickey said a word. Finally, after it began to get to him, Keno moved back to the sofa. "Hey Mikey, maybe we can still…"

Mikey said nothing, but shrugged noncommittally. Keno tried again. "Hey I know how long we've waited to watch it, but…you know…there's always..." He stopped, the words sounding hollow to his own ears.

"I mean, the TV can be fixed you know…it's not broken."

He was about to sit when Mikey replied, voice sounding forlorn. "Actually, it …kind of is broken, Keno." He sat down with a whoosh, and the couch protested slightly.

Keno didn't need to be a genius to spot that point. He had ruined a nice evening by breaking the most used piece of technology in the complex. He nodded, standing after a minute.

"Don't worry- I'll fix it. I've got," he checked his watch, eyes widening at the time, "oh man. I'm late for the…delivery shift. Marco's gonna kill me."

He sent pleading eyes to the turtle. But Mikey's eyes hadn't moved from his hands in his lap. Keno waited for several seconds, before letting out a belated hiss of agitation. He ran a hand through his thick mop of hair, hanging over his forehead, and he blinked it out of his eyes.

Bending, he collected his backpack from under the TV table, slinging it over his shoulder in a smooth arc. Turning he left a parting shot to Mikey.

"I gotta blaze; See you guys, maybe Wednesday…?"

Silence met his question, and his back slumped, his shoes slapping the concrete as he jogged to the manhole ladder. At the first rung, he paused.

"Sorry Mikey…guys," the soft spoken apology was barely audible, and Keno turned back to the ladder, and began climbing.

&&&&&&&&

Outside the rain had stopped for the evening. People began inching out of their apartments and homes to enjoy New York nightlife, at the city practically shone from the sheer amount of florescent lights that brightened the streets.

But he didn't see it. Scuffing his worn sneakers against the pavement, Keno once again thought of home. Images and random snatches of conversation floated around in circles inside his head, and he lowered his gaze to his feet, kicking out in frustration at it all.

His parents had been right. For all their lectures, disappointment and hurt had been spot on- he was a quiet loner.

Or as his last girlfriend had so delicately put it; a directionless pain in the arse, with a tendency to seek out trouble like a heat tracking missile. Too bad she wasn't here to see him now. It would've given her a real kick.

I am so pathetic. That one thought rose up, and blanked out everything else. The backpack slid down, and he shrugged the strap onto his shoulder, not watching the ground a head of him. His thoughts had taken him somewhere else.