Tripping Over Me, Over You

A/N: Thanks for the reviews you guys. Sorry the updates are slow, but I've managed to catch a cold despite the sweltering summer heat. College colds suck!

Chapter Five,

Thoughts In A Shower

The first thing that George saw when she woke up was the ceiling fan, its slow rotations were memorizing. For the briefest of moments she was wonderfully oblivious to everything. Sleep clouded her mind, and rubbed her eyes, moaning as she flipped to her left side. The green figure slumped in the chair next to her bed sent a twinge of panic through her; then everything came rushing back.

"Shit," she groaned and flipped to her other side, then the soreness hit her like bus. "Shit!"

Raph snorted awake, the book flying from his lap. "What's that! What's wrong!" He dropped his legs and the chair rocked back into place, with a quick motion he drew his sai from his belt.

"Hey Raph?" George asked, drawing her legs to her chest, he back facing him.

"Yeah?" He put his sai back into his belt and rubbed his eyes, blinking rapidly at the sunlight streaming through the blinds.

"Did you get that number?"

"What number."

George groan again before flipping back over, still covered by her sheets. She too found it hard to adjust to the sunlight, and drew the covers over her head. "You know, the number of the bus that hit me."

Raph snorted with laughter. "Yeah," he chuckled, yanking the covers off of her. "It's 1-800-Get-Your-Ass-Outta-Bed!"

George snatched the sheets from his hand, and sat up, drawing them around her. At some point while she was asleep she'd pulled her pants off. It was an odd thing she did, kind of like how some people kicked their socks off. She was a little shocked at being pant less, but then she felt them around her bare feet and knew she'd done it herself. It also didn't help her because she was wearing he granny-panties—the big gray ones.

"What time is it?"

Raph turned around to look at the clock, it blinked 6 o'clock.

"Well hot damn," she said, running a hand through her tangled weave of hair. "Slept like a log didn't I?"

Raph got up and stretched, not commenting. He popped his fingers and his shoulders. Sleeping sitting up in a chair was never comfortable. George got up, the blanket was wrapped around her in a mummy-like fashion, and she took mincing little steps that oddly reminded her of a geisha towards the vanity.

She groaned inwardly at the site. She looked like train wreck, her hair was stiff and sticking out in odd directions, and the black eyeliner and mascara that had been perfect the night before was now smeared across her face. It tastes like something died in my mouth, she thought as she chewed her tongue.

"I look like a depressed poet," she said, making a face at the mirror.

"And you smell like one," Raph chirped helpfully.

"Oh, curl up and die!"

"You almost did."

"I'm going to take a shower!"

"Good! You need one!"

There arguments were childish at best, but George didn't care, she was always grumpy when she first woke up. The dull ache along her side didn't help any. She stopped to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

"Don't bother taking the bandages off of your arm," Raph yelled through the door. "Those are waterproof; Donnie made 'em so they'd stay on us whenever we went to the lair."

George busied herself by trying to drag a brush through the rat's nest that was her hair. "Lair? Just where exactly do you guys live?"

He muttered something, but it was lost when she turned on the hot water.

"What did you say?" she yelled.

"THE SEWERS!" he hollered back.

"WHAT!" And you're calling me smelly?"

"Says something about 'cha, don't it?"

George screamed something that sort of sounded like 'argh!', and kicked the door. Raph must've had his ear to it because he gave a yelp. With a smirk of satisfaction George started to peel off her clothes. They'd gotten mudded in the in the fight, from where she'd been thrown to the ground. After undressing George looked in the mirror, and examined her bruises and scraps.

"Sweetie," she said to herself, "you've seen better days--much better."

She felt the hot water rush over her, and goose bumps ran the length of her body. She shivered and relished the feeling. As she scrubbed her body she let her mind drift off and thought about what was happening.

Turtles, she groaned inwardly, what is the world coming to? What did all this mean? There were four of them, just four and one giant rat. I can handle a rat, she assured herself, if and when I meet him.

How long would it take to find what they were looking for, and what would happen when they found it? Would they stick around? She hopped they did, contrary to popular belief it was hard to make friends as an adult. She had a couple of people she went out with on occasion, but she got lonely. Having the turtles around felt oddly like being a part of a family again, and she desperately missed the feeling.

She hoped that whenever this whole business was sorted out she'd be able to see them again. Even Raph, she smirked, Yeah, even Raph.