Thanks to all my beta-readers for the great job that they do!

TMNT does not in any way, shape or form belong to me. However, if they suddenly put Irma back on the air and she's displaying characteristics similar to the ones in this story, I may be a little miffed.

Chapter Seven

Shortly after dinner, April and I went with Donny and Splinter to have our bandages and injuries checked up on. They declared us both fine, but insisted that I go to bed.

"Concussions are serious things," said Donny as he gently nudged me to the door. "I don't think that you're in any serious danger but I don't want you exerting yourself too quickly." I would have argued, but to tell the truth, I didn't want to exert myself either. I was in no hurry to repeat the headache I had earlier.

The next day was more of the same thing; waking up, walking around a bit, talking some more with Donny about random things, etc. Master Splinter had the other three doing chores, so I didn't think it was wise to disturb them. It had been very uneventful, for me at least. Donny, Splinter and April were not convinced that I was over my concussion yet, and so they gave me some sleeping pills and sent me to bed for most of the morning and afternoon. I was grateful, actually. I was emotionally exhausted, and I was in no mood to risk making my head worse either. The most eventful thing was calling Ken on his cell phone during hours that I knew he'd be working. I just left a message explaining that I was going to have to cancel the date because of personal issues, but I'd call him as soon as I could. I prayed the whole time that he wouldn't pick up the phone; I really didn't want a repeat of the Bird thing.

This was also the day that I learned that April and Casey's relationship was not as smooth as they had led me to believe.

It was decided that to keep things easier for everyone, April and I were going to share the guestroom. This room had a large bed, a couple lamps on bedside tables, and a makeshift closet with clothes in it. Apparently it was April and Casey's unofficial bedroom that they shared when they were down there visiting, but since I was there too, Casey had been moved into Raph's room for the time being. Because April and I were sharing the same room, we also had to share the one bed. It wasn't that weird for me; I shared my bed with my sister whenever she came to visit me. But for April, I thought it would be a bit strange since she had been living with Casey for so long. It wasn't until she collapsed on the bed with a relieved sigh that I realized that perhaps the tension I had seen between the two of them wasn't just from the stress. She had changed into a tank top and shorts to sleep in that night. Don had told her to sleep without sleeves because he didn't want the bandages on her arms to get messed up from any more fabric. But since I didn't have any pajamas, I just pulled off the pants that I had borrowed from April and decided to sleep in just the shirt. Because Casey had such a long torso and broad shoulders and I didn't, the shirt fell halfway to my knees anyway.

I watched her as she stretched out over the bed. "Irma, you're not a pillow or a blanket hog, are you?"

I kicked out of the pants and sat down on my side of the bed. "If my ex and sister are to be believed, I sleep like the dead. Once I'm asleep I don't move until I wake up."

"Thank God," April said, and proceeded to get under the covers happily.

"You seem to be much happier about sharing a bed with a girl than I think I'm comfortable with," I remarked.

She rolled her eyes and started to pull the blankets over her. "Yeah, yeah."

I pulled the blankets back on my side and I turned out my lamp. The room was plunged into complete and utter darkness. We were both quiet for a moment and then I said "So… You and Casey…"

She sighed. "Alright. Let's get it over with."

"How long have you two been fighting? I heard you yelling to him about being a vigilante or something. What's all this about? I thought you two were fine! Have you just been pretending this whole time?"

I heard rustling next to me. "I'm sure you've guessed by now that the guys are not exactly… normal."

If I had been able to see her in the dark, I would have given her the most incredulous look I could have. "April. They're five foot eight inch tall turtles that talk and apparently have a way with beating people up. I'm weird, I'm not stupid."

"Sorry…" More rustling. "Alright. Well… The vigilante thing… The turtles have this habit of going out and, ah, doing good for the city."

I absorbed this information. "Huh… I guess we know why there's all those strange figures on the news then."

"Yeah, they've got their fair share on there. Anyway. Casey and I met them a few years ago when Casey was trying to get over having to leave professional hockey because of his injuries."

I knew this story. Casey had told me himself in one of our "Past Drama" discussions. "Right, and?"

"Well… He and Raph met one night when they were kind of… doing the same thing."

"Doing the…" I turned over on my side to face the direction her voice was coming from. "He was trying to be a vigilante too?"

April's voice sounded tired. "Yep. And now, all this time later, he's still running around playing the hero."

"Ah… You're worried about him, right?"

"I'm worried about all of them, Irma! They're always out there fighting anything that comes their way, risking their necks for this city, and getting nothing for it! What if they're caught sometime? Not everyone is like us, Irma. What if someone sticks them in a lab somewhere?"

We were both silent for a minute. Then I spoke. "I can't really say much about what's going on with you and Casey, that's your business and I have no place in it. But as for the turtles… Well, they know how to fight, right? And I think it's safe to assume that they've been through a lot already, right? I wouldn't worry too much about them."

I kept my voice light but I knew that she did have a point to her concern. I didn't know them too well, but I didn't want my hosts to end up in one of those creepy science labs with the surgical equipment either. I kicked April's foot under the blankets gently. "It'll be okay, April. Trust me."

She sighed. "Alright, Irma. I'll try to calm down. G'night." And with that, we both closed our eyes and fell fast asleep.

Despite my initial concerns that I was going to have the most awkward few weeks in the sewers ever, it turned out to be pretty nice once I got used to the idea of living with the equivalent of five walking, talking house pets.

Although their home itself was technically located in the sewers, the Lair was in a location where the various smells didn't even reach us. I was pretty happy about this, considering that sewage was not exactly something that a person wanted to wake up to in the morning.

The setup of the Lair was actually fairly simple once I was familiar with it; the main room of the lair served as the Living Room/Playroom/Kitchen, because it was so spacious. There were three big rooms adjoining that- the Training Room, Splinter's meditation room, and the make-shift nurse's office where they patched each other up. There were two main hallways to the left and right of the main room, each leading to another large chamber that had been converted into something else. Don's Lab-Or-A-Tory was located in one such big room, and the unspoken rule was that no one in there touched anything except Don. This of course meant that the other brothers would wander in there at all hours of the day, and their exits would usually be announced by something loud crashing, Donny shouting, and then someone running away at top speed.

The other main room on the other side of the lair was what served as the bedroom. The giant room at that end was apparently at one point part of a railway system that had been shut down ages ago. There were still four train cars sitting on the tracks in the middle of the room. Since it would have been nigh impossible to steal those things and drag them this far down, I assumed they had always been there. These cars were converted into makeshift bedrooms for the four turtles. The windows of the cars had been covered for a sense of privacy, and it was pretty easy to see whose room was whose. The first car's windows were blocked with what looked like those Japanese scroll pictures. They were big and wide, but they were also kinda pretty because the light shown through them, so it looked like bright pictures. The zen feeling I got from that car was totally Leo. The next room's windows were covered with what looked like paper. I found out later that they were posters of war movies and baseball legends. Raph's room, of course. Donny's room was the third car, and those windows were covered with curtains of various colors. I guessed that the old adage "Beggars can't be choosers" applied in the choosing of the colors. Mikey's windows were creative to say the least. His were completely plastered in bumper stickers, regular stickers, all with funny sayings, and pictures of lolcats and the lolrus*.

The other rooms along that hallway were used as closets and storage rooms, except for one which had been converted into the guest room where April and I were sleeping.

This hallway, which I christened the Catnap Corridor, was also the hallway that had the bathroom where Donny and I had our embarrassing run-in. It seemed to be the area that had all the non-ninja stuff. This was good since I myself was somewhat accident prone and could probably stab myself with a fork if given enough time.

The other hallway was Arsenal Avenue because every room in that place was filled with assorted weaponry, especially those of a painfully pointy nature. Whenever I went down that way to get to Don's Lab, I sort of ran in order to avoid the off chance that a room would suddenly spring open and a ninja star would impale itself in my forehead.

In the next few days, I also got to know the turtles.

Mikey and I got to know each other when I walked in on him playing Halo III on an Xbox. He kept dying at this one part and knowing something of games myself, I couldn't help but want to stop and watch. After he died the third time, I gave in and sat down on the couch next to him. "Give me that thing," I said, taking the controller from him. "Heeey," he began to protest, and then stopped as I started to wreak virtual carnage on the screen. I bit the bottom of my lip in concentration as I fought my way through the hoards of aliens. Mikey suddenly gave a whoop. "Killtacular! Awesome! Go, Irma, go!"

That sealed it. I was on a rampage while Mikey sat next to me shouting things like "Awesome, dudette!" His eyes got wide and he turned to me excitedly. "Two-Player mode!"

"You read my mind!" Without further ado, we plugged in the other controller and began our ascent up the ranks of the Halo gaming world.

Mikey and I were pretty much friends after that. I discovered his love of pranks after he put a rubber snake in the bed one night, having somehow found out that I detest serpents of all kinds. They could hear my screams in Connecticut and of course Mikey was at the door first, having a conniption of humor. "It was so totally worth it!" he yelled as I chased him around the lair. We talked about movies, games, and music when I wasn't chasing him for pranking me. He invited me into his train-car room at one point and we had a dance party after he turned on his old boom box. It was pretty much just us jumping around, surrounded by the plastic figurines and the comic collections. "Dude! Mikey!" I shouted over the music. "We should totally do a rave in here sometime!"

"Totally!" he shouted back to me, and he proceeded to do the Robot dance.

For some reason when we started talking about the old Dexter's Lab cartoons, I felt like I was having a talk with a younger brother.

Raph was a totally different ballgame. He was a snarky, condescending, self-proclaimed badass. Needless to say I felt the desire to drive him up the nearest wall instantly.

I began with my plan when I saw him take over the TV and turn on the movie The Expendables. It was the perfect moment. I walked up behind the sofa and casually remarked "Oh, this movie. I swear, every time it comes on, it drains my IQ by five points."

Raph turned his head to look at me in an irritated way. "Then leave. I don't see you holding an invitation to this viewing."

"Nah," I said, sitting down. "Jason Statham is cute."

"And that's just what this movie is for," Raphael said sarcastically. "Eye candy for the chicks. Beat it, will ya?"

"Hmmmno." I gave him a beatific smile and turned my attention to the TV, helping myself to some of his popcorn. "This stuff needs butter."

Thirty minutes later we were having an argument over the legitimacy of using digital blood in a movie. "It's totally fake!" I said. "A half-blind grandmother could see that that stuff looks cheap!"

"It's a five second clip! It doesn't matter! All that matters is you recognize the carnage!" Raphael used his hands to punctuate his remarks.

"What good is the carnage if it looks fake enough to make Kim Kardashian's boobs look real? Violence is not something you can just FAKE! It totally looses the genuineness by digitalizing it!"

"It's ALL fake! None of the blood is real! None of the people dying is real! So what's the use with using digital blood?"

"It's not ARTISTIC! It needs to be ARTISTIC!" I was sitting up on my knees on the couch, trying to convey the conviction that I felt on the subject.

Raph was doing the same thing, just as adamant as I was. "This movie isn't artistic!"

"A-HA! So you concede that this movie is not good!" I exclaimed triumphantly.

"I didn't say that! I said it's not artistic!" Raph said angrily. "Just because something isn't artistic doesn't mean it's not good!"

"Spartacus! The Great Escape! The Bridge Over the River Kwai! Completely artistic! They didn't use fake blood!"

"I haven't even seen Spartacus! How'm I supposed to argue over movies I haven't seen?"

My jaw dropped ten feet. "You've NEVER seen SPARTACUS? What's WRONG with you?"

The conversation continued like this for another thirty minutes, in which I continued to call him an 'unenlightened plebian', and he called me a 'pushy emasculating broad'. It finally ended when we both flopped back onto the couch stewing and then Raph said "So what's Spartacus about?"

Leo and I were what I liked to refer to as Polar Opposites. He was disciplined while I gave in to my cravings for things constantly. He was thoughtful whereas after five seconds of consideration I usually did the fun (and consequently, often stupid) thing to do. He seemed always carry about with him a sense of inner peace that I could only be passionately jealous of, and his careful precision in everything occasionally made me sometimes wonder if he had some sort of robot engine in his mind that made everything he did look perfect.

I imagined that if the two of us ever had to do a painting to see what would come out of our heads, his would be something like the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel and mine would probably look like Barney on crack.

Nevertheless, I somehow managed to get it into my head that we should be friends. I had succeeded in gaining friendship with the other three (or at least, with two- I briefly considered that perhaps I was lucky Raphael hadn't killed me yet), and I was determined to at least try to become friends with Leonardo as well. I was drawn by the thought that it could be a challenge- I loved a challenge when it came to men. Not so much romantically, but just getting them to open up in general. My psychologist aunt would probably have chalked it up to never being able to get through to my father, and so I projected my desire for an intimate relationship onto other men (intimate here meaning friendship wise, not sex wise. I wasn't into turtles).

Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to get too close to the turtles. Without a doubt, they would have most likely left me alone, and once returned to the surface, would probably have never come into contact with me again. It would have made things much easier and simpler. But I wanted to make friends with them- they were strange, interesting, and despite their appearance and species, seemed altogether human in their ways of thinking. It was an interesting thing to me, and I kind of liked the idea of being in on a secret- and they were certainly one of the best that you could have.

I managed to get in a decent conversation with Leonardo one day when I woke up extra early. April and I had both taken a couple of pain pills the night before, and so we had gone to bed a bit early. I woke up before April did, and although I tried to go back to sleep, I couldn't find it in me. I decided to get up and start moving.

Luckily, having spent so much time underground, my eyes had managed to adjust to the darkness of the room. I was familiar with where things were and how far they were from the bed. I managed to make it to the closet, pull on some shorts and another one of Casey's old long-sleeved plaid shirts. After a week of being underground, I still had just the one bra, and it needed to be washed with the rest of the laundry. With a sigh, I decided to do without it for the day. I felt awkward, but at the same time I knew that the shirts were so thick and bulky that they didn't really give a good view of my assets anyway, not that I had much in the way of those. Also, I didn't even know if they would have cared anyway- they were turtles after all. If that were true, then the only person who would notice would be Casey, and he saw me as a sister. Not much of a problem there.

I finished dressing and crept out of the room, looking for a clock of some kind to tell me what time it was. I headed to the kitchen, knowing that the oven would have the time. Ah, the joys of digital appliances. But as I walked towards it, I saw that the lights were on in the training room. Curious, I went closer to find the door open. Peeking inside, I saw something rather amazing. Leonardo was in the room, moving at the speed of light, jabbing here, swinging there, stabbing upwards, and slicing downwards, almost like a dance with weaponry. I knew that it would be best if I left; still, I could not tear my eyes away from the sight. He was so graceful-

And then of course, he caught sight of me, stumbled a little, and instantly stopped. "Sorry, sorry!" I exclaimed. "I-it's just that I woke up early, and I saw the light on, and, well… Good morning?" I finished lamely.

Leo stared at me for a moment and then I saw the side of his mouth twitch upwards a little. "Good morning to you, too." He sheathed his katanas and walked closer to me. "I'm not used to having anyone else up at 4:30 AM except for maybe Master Splinter."

I gaped at him. "It's 4:30 in the morning?"

"Mhmm. I usually wake up at four and train for an hour before my brothers and Splinter wake up."

I walked into the room and looked at the variety of weapons and training apparatuses on the walls and on tables. There were a few wicked looking ones- a curved blade on the end of a long pole, and what looked like a sickle that could be shot out at someone, if the trigger on the side was any indication. "These all look Japanese," I commented to Leo, who stood behind me.

"They are. Master Splinter wants us to be familiar with all of them. But we all have our own preferences of course," he said as he gestured to the katanas on his back.

"Huh," I said. "They're all a bit too… pointy for me."

"Oh? What weapon would you prefer?"

I turned to look at him with a grin. "My parents raised me to believe that violence is the bane of human existence. So I joined the Gun Club in college and have a license to carry in the states of New York and Georgia. I keep my gun in my apartment for safety."

He looked surprised. Most people were when they learned I had no problem handling firearms. "I… see. Do you… often make a habit of going against what your parents taught you?"

"Almost always," I said cheerily. "Of course, they also taught me that pets were nasty and unhygienic to keep around, so you can see that I've taken everything they've taught me with a few cups of salt."

"Huh… Interes- Did you say Georgia?" The look on his face when he realized the randomness of those two states put together was priceless.

"Yeah, I grew up there. In Atlanta, actually."

"So, how did you end up here?"

"Got a good job offer. You wanna make breakfast?" I asked. "I can make pancakes. I'm really good at making pancakes."

"Pancakes?" Leo smiled at me. "Pancakes actually sound great."

"Awesome!" I enthused, and we both headed to the kitchen. "If you'll get out a big mixing bowl and some frying pans and a beater, I'll get the ingredients together." I had a vague idea of where everything was. I had seen the turtles wander around the kitchen getting things out of cupboards and the fridge. The one thing that I had not counted on, however, was how chaotic it would all be. They had no sense of organization in that kitchen. The eggs, milk and butter were easy enough, but the flour? Salt? Sugar? Impossible.

"How does Michelangelo do it?" I asked out loud. "You've got the oregano and paprika next to a box of Frosted Flakes and bacon bits with the baking soda!"

Leo looked at me like I had just asked what the color green tasted like. "It's Mikey's kitchen," was all he offered in explanation. Of course, having been in Mikey's room, I knew firsthand what he was talking about.

"True." I set about hunting down the remaining ingredients in military fashion, shoving things to the side and making a mental note to organize the kitchen when I had it to myself. When I finally gathered everything, I began cracking eggs and pouring things into the bowl with Leo expertly mixing things. He had good arm strength and mixed it all perfectly. I added in some extra sugar and a few teaspoons of vanilla. Leo looked at me when I did this. "You'll love it," I promised. "Try the batter if you like. It'll be good."

"I'll wait until the finished product," he said, and began pouring the batter into perfect circles on the frying pan. I got a big plate out of another cupboard and waited eagerly for the pancakes to cook. "I'll leave the flipping and stuff to you," I said to Leo. "I have the unfortunate habit of mangling them when I try to do the flippy thing."

"Not a problem," he chuckled, and with a quick flick of his wrist, one of the pancakes went soaring up in the air. He caught it and flipped it to the uncooked side. I stood staring and he grinned at my expression. "A perk of being a ninja."

"SO unfair," I muttered. "I make these things all the time, and I've never even once come close to managing to do that."

The blue bandana wearing turtle chuckled. "It's one of the few things I can do outside of being a ninja."

Within a few minutes we had the table neatly set and a huge stack of pancakes ready. A thought struck me and I bit my lip nervously. "Does… does everyone like pancakes?"

"They'll love them, don't worry," my assistant chef assured me. "But… if you like, I can taste test."

"Would you?" I asked. "I just don't want to serve everyone something that they'll hate."

Leo sat down, took a pancake, put some butter on it, and took a bite. He chewed for a bit, looking thoughtful.

"Well?" I asked impatiently.

"I don't know…" he mused. "I'll have to test it further to really know." And with that, he took two more pancakes and slathered them with butter too.

"Hey, wait up!" I said, and I sat down next to him and helped myself as well.

About two seconds after that, I heard an alarm go off somewhere, and a large crash. "That'll be Raph destroying the alarm clock again," said Leonardo in an exasperated way. "And of course, that'll wake up Donny, who'll yell at Raph for breaking another clock, and that'll wake up Mikey, who'll play loud music until they shut up and then they'll all come get breakfast-"

"Which I see has already been prepared." Splinter's voice cut in, making me jump a little in surprise. He walked to the other side of me, his whiskers twitching appreciatively as he sniffed at the food. "I see that my sense of smell has not yet deserted me. The aroma the two of you created in here was good enough to wake me up early."

"Was it really the aroma, or was it the noise we were making?" I inquired, offering him the butter.

His eyes twinkled a little. "It is true that although it seems your skill in preparing food is good, your skills of stealth may need a little bit of improvement, Miss Irma."

I snapped my fingers in mock disappointment. "Well, darn."

Voices came up from the hallway. "… told you stop smashing those things! They don't grow on trees!"

"You make them so damn loud!"

"Dudes, I'm getting really sick of waking up to you guys fighting. It totally ruins my morning mood!"

"At least you two don't have to share a room with the guy who has the alarm."

"You want me to kick you out into the hallway, Casey? Cause I'll do it!"

"Boys!" said Splinter in a loud voice. The fighting ended instantly, although I could still hear grumbles. Don, Raph, Mikey and Casey walked into the kitchen, the turtles with sleepy eyes and Casey with mussed bed-hair. I grinned at the sight. "Forgot a comb, Casey?"

He snorted at me. "You're one to talk. Your hair looks like a bad afro."

My hands instantly went to my hair. "I washed it last night. It gets frizzy when I don't get to dry it." I tried to smooth my hair down and then stopped. "And if you don't be nice to me, I won't give you any pancakes."

"They're good too," said Leo.

Mikey eagerly reached for the platter I held away from Casey. "Leo hardly likes anything! They've gotta be great!"

"Pass 'em here, I'm starving." Raphael took the pancakes from Michelangeo, who kept putting them on his plate even as they were moving away.

Donatello took a bite and grinned at me. "These are great, Irma."

"Thanks," I grinned back at him. As the turtles and Casey began to talk about things, I leaned over to Splinter and murmured softly in his ear "Would you mind terribly if I organized the kitchen?"

"Miss Irma," whispered Splinter back, "I have been waiting for someone to do that for months. I once accidentally poured salt into my tea instead of sugar." He then asked in a normal tone "Where did you learn this recipe, Miss Irma? Did your mother teach it to you?"

I let out a bark of laughter before I saw the look on Splinter's face. "Wait… you were serious?" The shock in my voice and face must have been very clear.

"Do people not ask about your parents very often?" asked Leo politely.

"No, it's not that. It's that teaching me to cook wasn't too high on my parent's priority list." I took a bite of my pancake.

"Did they want you to do something else?" Leo asked.

"Besides disappear of the face of the earth? Nope, not really." I looked down at my food and began cutting my pancake with great concentration.

"You are… estranged from your family, Miss Irma?" Splinter inquired.

I thought about it for a moment. "Well, the last time I was home, my parents threatened to disown me and never talk to me again, so, yes, I would say so."

"Why the hell would they do THAT?" Raph stared at me with a look of disbelief. "Didja set somethin' on fire, or what?"

"Just the once, and no one used that boathouse anyway. I think they were more annoyed that they couldn't make me go away by pretending that I didn't exist."

There was absolute silence at the table while my companions reconsidered their thoughts about me.

"Perhaps you simply have not understood each other," said Splinter softly. "All parents love their children."

"No, they don't." My voice and rigid posture sent out the vibe that the conversation was over. The discussion turned to that days training schedule, and I was left alone with my memories.

This is the longest chapter that I've written thus far. I wanted to establish the kind of relationships Irma had with the brothers here, and I think I did that alright. The characters also had something to do with it, uncooperative little punks that they are.

Reviews and constructive criticism are desirable and let me know someone actually reads this stuff.