note: something short and sweet for donnie lovers out there… setting is 2k14! Rated T mostly for language, some romancey situations but nothing porny… yet… hah!

dis: don't own tmnt, all rights belong to nick, blah blah blah…
Pairing: Donnie/OFC

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He smiled shyly, hands twisting around a screwdriver he'd been using to take apart a toaster that Leo fried… again. She did it back, her smile radiant and easy to come by. Of his seventeen years as a large, bipedal mutant turtle—-he'd never paid much attention to the human face for anything other than medical research, but her?

She had straight, black hair that fell to her mid back and pretty brown eyes that always sparkled in his opinion. Her skin was the color of caramel and soft to the touch—-he had noticed when patching her up just now, roughened fingers sliding over her upper arm after securing the bandage to it. He didn't want to seem creepy or anything, that was Mikey's job the lugbrain, but she was just perfection in his eyes.

Her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans she leaned over him to stare down at the disassembled toaster. She looked a little too quirky for someone that just had a training session with his sensei. With the new threat of the Dragons and the lingering hints of Shredder's return they wanted their human friends to be prepared, just in case: so April, Vern, and their newest friend came down for routine training sessions. Vern had managed a lucky shot to the eighteen year old girl's arm and Donatello had insisted she let him bandage it before continuing, much to his brothers delight. The teasing with them had been endless ever since he let it slip that he thought she was pretty. Assholes.

"So…Leo get too crazy with the Pop Tarts, again? Did he put a freshly licked one in the toaster and make it spark?"

DAMN his brothers for telling her that! He blushed, chuckling while tossing the screwdriver on his worktable. "No, nothing like that. And I stopped doing that a long time ago! Leo just has a knack for breaking things. He can be aware of his surroundings and block a strike from an opponent blindfolded and using his other senses—-but he can't use a kitchen appliance without it revolting against him."

She laughed, pulling strands of her hair behind her ear before putting her hand on his arm . Her touch was warm and more than welcome. He fought his body's desire to tense or even pull her closer. She was a friend. JUST a friend. Nothing more… He knew he'd never have anything remotely close to a relationship with a woman other than friendship. Not by looking the way he did.

"You okay?"

"Huh?"

"You seem a little down," she commented, making him twist around in his chair and look up at her with a shrug. "Don?"

"I'm just irritated about the toaster. Its the third time this month its gone out! We just need to get a new one."

"I'll get you a new damn toaster if you just come clean with me," she said, sounding irritated. "Tortuga obstinada!"

"I'm not stubborn," he mumbled, looking down at his hands. He nearly jumped out of his shell when he felt both her hands on his cheeks, pressing gently before tilting his head up. Normally he was taller than her, always looking down when engaging her in conversation, but from his sitting position she towered over him for once.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" she asked, thumbs brushing over his uneven skin, making a tremble travel down his spine.

"Y-Yeah," he stuttered softly, but still not adhering to her desire for finding out what was troubling him.

"I have a different question for you," she said, head tilting to the side, strands of hair brushing against her upper arm as it fell from place. He wanted to tuck them back, then brush her skin with his fingertips, especially when seeing the small patch of it between the hem of her navy blue tank top and the waistband of her jeans.

"What is it?" he asked after clearing this throat.

"Why do you wear these?" she asked, tapping his glasses.

"To see," he answered, as if it was the dumbest question in the world, making her swat him on his arm. "Ow!"

"Crybaby," she teased. "You know what I mean! Aren't you some sort of super-genetically-powered mutant? Why do you need glasses?"

"I have many hypotheses as to why, the most pertaining one being that as a pre-mutated turtle I was blind or had damaged eyesight to begin with," he said. It was a sore spot for him, being the only turtle that needed the glasses. As if fate decided that he'd be the abnormal of the abnormal and have shoddy eyesight to go with the green skin and hulking shell on his back. "Just lucky I guess."

"Hm, it's a shame," she said, and he saw something flicker in her eyes. Fear? Of him? The thought had his stomach dropping. It was what he worried about most, having someone he cared about fear—-what was she doing? Her hands were on his glasses and taking them off!

"Wh-What are you doing?" he asked, reaching up with his hands to surround her delicate wrists.

"Trust me?"

Reluctantly he let go, and she took his glasses away, tucking them into the top of her tank. He could still see somewhat. He couldn't see the definition of her chocolate eyes, or the tiny mole on her upper, right arm. She was more of a blur, a wondrous blur. Her hands were back on his face and suddenly her eyes were connected to his. Her eyes were filled with something akin to… No, it couldn't be…

"You have beautiful eyes," she said, and suddenly he couldn't breathe. This girl was calling him… Beautiful? Had he misheard? "I wish I could see them more."

"Thank you?" he answered weakly, making her laugh before biting her lower lip. She was so close he could smell her shampoo, lavender—-along with the salty tang of sweat from her earlier workout. His hands moved of their own accord and wrapped around her waist, fingers clenching into the material of her shirt and jeans.

"You are very welcome…" Her eyes drifted down and he unconsciously licked his lips. "Quiero besarte…"

"Y-you want to kiss me?"

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from giggling at the high pitched voice of the suddenly nervous turtle. "Can I?"

It was his turn to nod and he held his breath once more as she leaned down the rest of the way and suddenly her soft lips were against his slightly dry. A wave of panic overcame him because he wasn't sure if this was happening. What the shell was he supposed to do? He'd never kissed someone before! Her lips were moving over his and he was just sitting there like an idiot! "Relax, Donnie…"

Her words had some sort of magical properties to them because suddenly he WAS relaxed. He pulled her closer and she stood between his legs, stomach pressed intimately against the frontal plates of his plastron, hands still cupping his face as she kissed him expertly while he followed. He wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted, but she pulled away slowly, her lips delicately separating from his. His eyes had closed sometime during the kiss and slowly they opened.

"Wow…"

She laughed at his perplexed and dopey expression, grabbing the glasses she had tucked into the front of her shirt and unfolding them. Carefully she placed them back on his head and he adjusted them while she stepped back.

"I'll take that as a good sign that you liked it," she said, hands back to being tucked in her jean pockets.

"Y-Yeah," he said, standing, legs a little shaky but he managed.

"Good." She turned on her heel. "Mikey said something about ordering pizza. If you're done in here maybe you could walk with me to go pick it up?"

He watched her go for exactly two-point-five seconds before following her. Screw the damn toaster. His brothers could have cereal in the morning.

END