Disclaimer: The only Ninja Turtles I own are my shirts…and action figures…and cups...and bowls…I think you get the picture. Not mine.
A/N: I know that Mike didn't use his chucks anymore in season 7…but I never liked the grappling hook thing. So…he's still using his chucks XD
Michelangelo could hear the muffled sounds of his brother's talking in the kitchen carrying over to his room. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he was fairly certain that he was the topic of conversation.
He was lying on his bed, fingers interlaced behind his head, staring at the ceiling pensively. He had crossed his legs, the right one on top bouncing restlessly.
"I just don't see what the big deal is," he frowned, his leg picking up momentum in his irritation, "I mean, it's not like I'd become a bogus ninja or something if I miss only one measly practice."
Mike reached down to the floor on the side of the bed and grabbed one of his chucks, the familiar weight in his hands a slight comfort. He began twirling it idly in large, lazy loops, chewing his lower lip in thought. The leash Leonardo was keeping him on was getting old fast. Shredder had been lying low lately, and even the city itself had been quiet. April had been constantly complaining about the lack of worthwhile stories. So why was Leo being such a hard case?
His gaze shifted to his bookshelf which proudly housed his comic book collection. "The Pulverizer" number two seemed to be glaring accusingly at him, as if chiding him for owning an incomplete set.
"Seriously, dude," Mike said to no one in particular, "what's the worst that could happen if I go? It's my money, and I should be able to spend it however I want."
He sat up, dangling his legs over the side of the bed and swinging them.
"My bros just don't understand a dude and his comics," Mike sighed. "I already bought my ticket for the convention, too."
His eyes widened at his last statement.
"I already bought my ticket," he echoed, "and Leo told me I shouldn't be wasting money…and if I don't go…that would be a total waste-ola of my deniro. Cannot have that, now can we?" He grinned impishly at his revelation.
He slipped off his bed like smooth silk and stealthily peered around the corner of his room entrance into the common area. The floor was covered in books, pillows, weapons, and other various oddities his brothers and himself had left strewn about. The busy New York traffic echoed faintly overhead, sounds which were so ingrained in him that he never paid them much notice. But now, his senses were on full-alert and everything was privy to his scrutiny. Satisfied that no one was around, he emptied out his piggy bank and stuffed its contents into his wallet which he then slipped into his belt. He grabbed his nunchucks as well and cautiously tip-toed out of his room and down the stairs leading to the floor.
His movements were exaggerated and careful at first, but the further he got, his confidence grew and his steps hastened. When he reached the garage he felt a pang of guilt, and hesitated before he opened to door. He glanced back over his shoulder, his hand hovering above the handle indecisively. His fingers twitched as his mind warred with itself. He didn't like disobeying Leonardo, and knew they would probably be worried about him when they noticed he was gone…but he needed this comic…like Don needed inventions, or Raph needed sarcasm, or Leo needed order…right? His hand snatched the handle and he flung the door open with jerky speed, hopped in the van, and took off before he could convince himself otherwise.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
April O'Neil sat at her desk in her office, her fingers dancing across her keyboard as she typed up a report. She detested days like this. If the day could have been any slower, it would have been dripping molasses. The news was dry and her boredom was higher than the ratings for Vernon's talk show. She knew Burne had given her these reports to finish for him as busy work. She let out an annoyed huff of air, blowing a piece of hair out of her line of vision. She sat back in her chair to read over her work, having to go over each paragraph multiple times when she found she was merely skimming them in her distraction.
"APRIL! GET IN HERE!" came the booming voice of Mr. Thompson from his adjacent office.
April started and snapped to her feet like a taut rubber band, the back of her legs hitting her chair and making it roll into the wall with a light thud. It bounced back a few inches and spun once feebly. Not missing a beat, she rushed to her boss' office, the shock having worn off quickly from years of responding to the overbearing man.
"What's up, Chief?" she asked her portly employer who was sitting stiffly behind his desk, surrounded by stacks of papers and mismatched files.
"No news is not good news, April," he frowned, his bushy blonde eyebrows forming a tight "v" of displeasure. "So it's time to get creative."
April attempted to remain impassive, but she could not help the momentary irritated wrinkling of her nose. Nothing good ever came when Burne got into these desperate modes for a story. Please not a fashion show…she pleaded silently to every deity that came to mind.
Burne reached under his desk and pulled out a garment bag. He tossed it to the reporter who in turn caught it, eyeing it skeptically.
"What's…this…?" she asked suspiciously, holding it gingerly as if she expected it to explode.
"Your costume, of course," Burne stated as it if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "you're going to cover the comic convention that's in town!"
April's face fell and her expression grew incredulous. "You can't be serious, Mr. Thompson!" she protested.
"I'm always serious, O'Neil," the news executive responded, his voice rising to a menacing level with his next words, "and if you're serious about your paycheck you'll get going now!"
April needed no further persuasion. "Right away, Chief!"
She turned around stiffly and headed from Mr. Thompson's office.
"And take Vernon with you to be your cameraman," he called out after her retreating form, "maybe he'll bring us back some extra ratings boosts in his swag bag."