Disclaimer: (Checks bank account and pockets) Nope, I still don't own the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. (Cries) But I wish I did! Does that count? (Looks around and sees the lawyers shake their heads) …Guess not. Sigh. Anyways, the only thing about this story that I own is the idea for it and the plot, as well as my character, who is making her grand debut in this very chapter! Yays! As a rule, I will try and update my stories as often as I can, as quickly as I can. Why? Because if people are kind enough to read my stories, and if they enjoy them, then I feel that I should update quickly for them. Besides, I'm impatient, and I know how it feels to wait for a favorite story to update. But please, keep in mind that this is my senior year, and I am sometimes bogged down with school-type stuff. But I will still do my best.

To everyone who read and reviewed my story, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. So as a reward, I give you…the next chapter! And only 5 days after the first one! Mazeltov! Anyways, it's a little longer, and things finally start rolling plot wise.

Now, on to Chapter 2!

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Ask any citizen in the Big Apple, and they'll say the same thing: New Yorkers are used to seeing strange things. After all, they've already faced alien invasions, played host to intergalactic battles, and put up with their fellow neighbors. But on a breezy August evening, had one of them chanced to look up, they might have seen something that would top the list:

Four odd, human-shaped beings traveling along the tops of buildings. Four creatures that looked like people, but who seemed capable of feats no human could hope to live through: leaping and flying from rooftop to rooftop like odd inner-city Tarzans.

Plus, one kept shouting something…

"COWABUNGA!"

"Michelangelo! Are you out of your mind?!" Leo yelled at his youngest brother as he effortlessly flipped over the gap between two buildings. "We're ninjas! We're supposed to be trying to be stealthy here!"

"C'mon, Leo," Don said, clearing the space just as easily, "this is Mikey we're talking about. He does stealthy just about as well as he does quiet."

"Hey," the turtle in question protested, "I resent that comment."

"No, shell-for-brains, you represent that comment," Don retorted.

"Brainiack's got a point, bonehead," Raph said. "The only time I've evah heard ya be quiet is when you're sleepin'."

"Oh yeah? Well, that's more than can be said for you, Raphie boy," Mikey shot back. "At least I don't snore!"

"I told ya not to call me that," Raph said, glaring as he stopped with his brother on the roof of an apartment building.

"And who's gonna stop me? After all, I am…"

"Don't say it! Don't you dare say it!"

"…the Battle Nexus Champion!"

Leo groaned. "Aw, shell. Here we go again." He knew this argument wouldn't lead anywhere anytime soon, so he left his three brothers behind to continue to scout ahead.

"…Master of the Multiverse!"

"You know, Mikey, you only won by a technical default," Don pointed out sensibly, joining them.

"…the Ultimate Warrior of-OW! Ow ow ow owwwww…" Mikey's ranting was cut short as first one three-fingered hand smacked him on the back of the head, then another snapped his mask strings. "You dudes are just jealous."

"Jealous of what, shell-for-brains? Don't kid yaself, tha only reason your sorry-excuse-for-a-ninja butt won that tournament was 'cuz that whackbag Draco and tha Daimyo's son were tryin' ta take it over," Raph said.

"But if I remember correctly, I beat your big green butt fair and square, Raphie boy," Mikey taunted.

Raph growled and rested his hands on his sai. "I ain't gonna say it again, Mikey. Don't call me that."

"Why not? Does it upset you, Raph-"

"Guys. Over here," a voice interrupted.

The three turtles turned at the sound of their oldest brother's voice. He was standing at the edge of the next building over, looking down into the alley. They quickly joined him.

"So what's up, Leo?" Mikey asked. "This isn't the place for the pizza shop."

"Quiet, Mikey. Look down there, in the alley. Purple Dragons," Leo spat the last words.

"Is it Hun?" Raph asked eagerly. "I'm itchin' fer some payback."

"No, it's not Hun," Don corrected, peering down into the dark alley. "Just some punks holding up some poor woman."

"What say we engage in some…"community service", bros?" Raph asked, grinning darkly and spinning his sai.

"Raphael," Leo began, a warning in his tone.

"What? You tellin' me ya wanna just sit here an' let them get away wit dat?"

Leo sighed, frustrated. "No, but we didn't come out here looking for trouble. And we can't just go barging in there and risk being seen."

"So then let's do this ninja style!" Mikey said. Don and Raph echoed their agreement.

Leo looked at his brothers and sighed again. A ninja knew when to admit defeat, so he nodded to show his consent. As they swiftly and silently made their way down to street level, Leo thought of his brothers and shook his head ruefully. He was outnumbered three to one, once again. He could probably count on two hands the number of times this happened a week…Glancing down at said hands, he gave a wry grin. Actually, I probably couldn't, he thought. Not enough fingers.

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Splinter sat down in his favorite chair with a sigh. Sipping his cup of tea, he closed his eyes for a moment. Ah, silence, he thought. At times, it is the sweetest sound of all. Splinter had to acknowledge the fact that he wasn't as young as he used to be. And proud as he was of his sons, he also had to admit that their absence came as a welcome relief at times. When he had found them as tiny, helpless turtles covered in a strange green ooze 16 years ago and decided to care for them as his own, he never foresaw having to say some of the things he had.

"Raphael! Take your hands from Michelangelo's throat at once!"

"No, Michelangelo, you may not skip practice to watch "Zombie Fighters"."

"Donatello, please hold your brother while I remove the carrot from his nose."

"No, Leonardo, you may not kill him. Fratricide is not the way of a ninja."

And yet, he knew he would not have it any other way. For while he enjoyed having some time to himself, he always worried about his sons when they ventured into the humans' world. Every time they left the lair, he always waited for their return, tired by the end of the night from keeping his worst fears at bay. Splinter knew too well the prejudice and fear of humans, and their refusal to accept that which they do not understand. And though he had warned his sons and ensured that they knew of the danger of being seen, he also knew that they all had good hearts and wished to help those in trouble.

Splinter often wondered if perhaps their meeting of Mr. Jones and Ms. O'Neil was not just as harmful as it was helpful; because of their acceptance and friendship, his sons harbored the fragile hope that perhaps other humans would accept them as well. But Splinter knew that their human friends were the minority more than the majority, and that for every human who would accept them, five more would fear and turn on them. That was why he had taught them the art of Ninjitsu; a ninja made his life by living in and working from the shadows. The secrecy and stealth that was a ninja's lifeblood was the one thing Splinter knew that could keep his sons alive. Taking another sip of tea, he thought of his sons and how they had grown.

Michelangelo, his youngest son. He was a natural athlete, and his nunchuks reflected his expressive nature. One would be more likely to find him entranced in a comic book or cartoon than practicing. He was full of life; his family's light in the darkest of times. And oftentimes, their most frequent form of exasperation. Michelangelo was the jokester, the trick player, the comedian. Splinter had lost count long ago the number of times he had had to intervene on Michelangelo's behalf to protect him from his older brothers' wrath after a particularly devious prank. But his youngest had a big heart, and loved and looked up to all of his brothers. And they loved him as well. Even when he drove them insane.

This brought him to his next son, Donatello. Donatello was oftentimes the unfortunate victim of Michelangelo's curiosity and penchant for trouble, and countless times one could hear crashing sounds coming from his lab, accompanied by an aggravated cry. His second youngest was an intellectual giant. Splinter was constantly amazed at the things his son was capable of. The marvels of science were mother's milk to him. Because of his intellect and skill, their lair enjoyed all the comforts the humans did; electricity, running water, and heat. His weapon was the bo staff; not overly threatening in and of itself, but when wielded by hands like Donatello's, potentially lethal. Splinter's scholarly son was almost a pacifist at heart, but would match any warrior should his brothers come to harm. However, he did not enjoy the fight like Raphael.

Raphael. His second-born. Splinter mused wryly that many of his gray hairs were most likely from his hotheaded son; though in all honesty, a large portion of them were also attributed to Michelangelo's antics. Rash, temperamental, and the first in a fight, Raphael was an unlikely ninja. He preferred to fight head on with anyone who challenged him rather than striking swiftly and silently from the shadows. Raphael's weapon of choice was also reflective of his personality; the sai, a weapon that was sharp, lively, and cunning. Though his heart was often clouded by anger, he was fiercely protective of his brothers. He cared just as deeply for his family as they did, even if he would be the last to show it. But care for them though he did, he also never hesitated to quarrel with them.

And the one he fought with the most was Leonardo. His eldest son. A father's pride and joy, and worst fear: a son who strives in everything to make his father proud and who works hard to excel…and who would trade his life in an instant for anyone in his family. Splinter had trained and raised him to be a leader, and he led his brothers well, though they did not always appreciate it. Leonardo's weapons, the katana, were another excellent reflection of the wielder: brilliant and deadly. His loyalty and strength had served the family well, and he sought always to protect them. Leonardo put his brothers and Splinter, his sensei, ever before himself. And yet he could be just as stubborn and hardheaded as Raphael, a fact that led to many of their fights.

Yet a father could not ask for more than such fine sons, Splinter thought, taking another drink from his mug.

As Splinter thought of Leonardo, a sudden wave of foreboding struck him. He tensed, unconsciously testing the air for the danger he felt surrounding his eldest. But he quickly determined that the attack carried a scent more of the spiritual than the physical. Setting aside his tea, he grasped his walking stick and headed to his room to meditate and try to contact his sons. His calm pace belied the agitation within; the only visible sign of his anxiety was his lashing tail as he slid open the wooden door to his room.

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Raph's eyes narrowed as he crept up on the ten thugs and the woman. His hands gripped his sai as he saw one pull out a gun and start waving it at the woman. Feeling one of his brothers at his side, he growled softly, "Ya know, Leo, tha only thing I hate more than guns is tha whackbags that use 'em."

His elder brother nodded tightly. "I hear ya, Raph."

"So are we gonna do this or not, Fearless Leader?"

Leo glanced askance at his brother at the name, but after checking the locations of his brothers and the humans, he nodded again. "We're doing it." Pulling a shuriken out of his belt, he continued. "I'll try to take out the gun. You guys know the drill; everyone pick a target and as much as you can, keep to the shadows." Cocking an eye ridge at his red banded brother, he commented wryly, "That means you too, Raphael."

"Yeah, yeah, don't get ya bandana in a bunch." He slid away from Leo, taking a position with the rest of his brothers. But despite his caution of the gun, he grinned at the thought of a good tussle. I am so gonna enjoy this.

At the signal, Mikey kicked over a trash can, diverting the men's attention from their victim. But in his surprise, the gunman's finger tightened on the trigger and a shot was heard, quickly followed by a shriek. In the next instant, a deadly throwing star flew out of the alley and knocked the gun away from the man's hand. The four brothers then leapt from the shadows and quickly went to work.

Mikey twirled his nunchuks wildly, knocking out several gang members with blows to the head. Don swung his bo staff to the side and angled it down, tripping one man, then whipped it to the other side to clothesline another. Raph took down his men with punches, slamming the handle of his sai into any available space. Leo dealt kicks and blocked weapons with precision, dodging chains and pipes and slicing them in half.

When all but the leader were down, the four turtles turned to the man. Leo sheathed his katanas, and approached him. "If you don't want to get hurt anymore, I'd suggest getting out of here." The man took his advice and turned tail.

Raph snorted. "Some leadah, leavin' his "friends" behind." Slinging an arm around Leo's shoulders, he continued. "I'd take ya over him any day of tha week, Leo. Even if ya are a pain in tha shell."

"Thanks, Raph. I'm touched."

"Um, guys? This is truly heartwarming and all, but we've got an injured woman on our hands," Don interjected. "We should get her to April's."

"You're right, Don. It looks like she took the shot in her side." Leo said, moving to kneel beside the woman. As he reached her, her head jerked up and her eyes widened at the sight of them. Already pale from blood loss, the woman turned even whiter. Before she could scream, Leo raised his hands carefully. "Just take it easy, we aren't going to hurt you. Can you tell me your name?"

The woman tried to back away, but stopped at the pain in her side. Looking down at her wound, she paused, and then glanced at Leo with a strange and calculating look in her eyes. She held out her right hand and spoke in a husky voice. "My name is Iganna."

"Leonardo," Leo said, stretching a three-fingered hand out to take hers. However, the instant he did, he felt a strange shock run through his body. He immediately felt exhausted and dizzy, and dropped her hand to hold his spinning head. What's wrong with me? He wondered, missing the triumphant look in Iganna's eyes. Must be tired from the fight.

But while Leo tried to clear his head, he didn't notice a gang member stirring on the ground a couple feet away. When the punk saw the woman, he reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a gun. Aiming it at her, he yelled, "Die, you freak!" Grinning delightedly, he pulled the trigger.

And for the second time that night, a shot rang out, followed by a cry...

A/N: And there we go! Chapter 2 is up, yay! And it's a whole lot longer! I really had wanted to get this out sooner, but it just didn't work out that way. Sorry. And yes, I am taking the almighty author license and leaving you with…a cliffhanger! Don't worry, I'll try not to do it that often, but I just had to at least once. Besides, I thought this chapter was long enough, and I've got to save some stuff for the next one. But I'll post that one soon, I promise. I just kind of write this as I go along, so planning was involved for this chapter. But I know what I want to do for the next chapter, so one way or another it will be out in less than a week. And as always, please point out any mistakes I've made. Thanks.

And now I'm going to make you wonder with teasing, suspenseful stuff. (I tried to make this kind of stuff obvious enough to be noticeable, but in case I didn't succeed, here are some helpers so people will be hooked. :D ) If you were bleeding and rescued by a quartet of five foot tall talking green turtles, would you calmly shake their hand? And why is the gang member aiming at a human, instead of a mutant turtle? Hmmm. :D And one more hint: 'Iganna' means something in a European language. (Whoever finds out what it means gets mad props. And a cookie. Get it? Computer, cookie? Hee hee hee. :D ) Oooo, the suspense! I'll let you find other inconsistencies and clues yourselves. Again, please review, and flames will be used to, um, light stuff on fire. Why? Because blatant pyromania is good, wholesome fun for the whole family:D (runs off to go play with matches)

(Leo steps in) Um…yeah. It seems that the author is currently having…an episode. We will encourage her to continue the story as soon as she's sane again.

(calliopechild runs at Leo with lit match) Leo! Friend!

(Don clotheslines the author with his bo staff)

(Leo sweatdrops) Thanks Don. (Turns back to the audience) Please have patience while the author regains consciousness. (Bows) Arigato.