Hey, guys! I'm so sorry I didn't post this up on Monday as usual, but there was a slight hiccup with the interwebz here at home. It's gotten a bad habit of spacing in and out and so I couldn't upload the chapter without it being deleted multiple times. I finally got to use the library computer to put it up here. I'll try to get the next chapter up on schedule, but unfortunately I can't make any promises. Hopefully the quality off this chapter makes up for the lateness though.
So, this is going to be a slower chapter than the last couple, a sort of mellow explaining-things type chapter. It's also sort of the calm before the huge-ass storm brewing up, because from this point on it is GOIN' DOOOOWWWWNNNNNN… like they say in some circles. Maybe. I think. IN ANY CASE, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last ones.
Special Thanks to my beta readers and reviewers! I love you guys to bits!
Chapter Eighteen
Don and I sat there, clinging to each other for a few minutes until finally we untangled ourselves and decided that we should probably get out and tell everyone that things were fine. But even as we stood up, we kept our hands clasped tightly together. His two thick fingers made it impossible to intertwine my smaller, slender(er) fingers with his, but we kept them tight together and as we walked our arms brushed against each other.
Don opened up the door to the Nurse's Office and we walked outside we were met with boisterous cheers from Mikey and Casey. "Wooooo! Finally!" The youngest brother clapped his hands together with a gigantic grin on his face and Casey wolf-whistled. April laughed and Leonardo looked very pleased. Raphael had a grin on his face and gave us a thumbs-up. There was a brief moment of laughter and slight chaos before there was the sound of a cane rapping on the stone floor. Master Splinter stood off slightly to the side, his tranquil expression still in place, but with a slight quirk upwards at the corner of his mouth. "Boys," he said, "settle down. There will be time for merriment once we have discussed the attack on Irma." Instantly the mood sobered and we gathered together around the dining table which had been replaced by a larger one sometime before. Naturally I sat next to Don and the other side was taken by Master Splinter.
He had me discuss what happened in detail, first with Ken, and then at the library. Leonardo, to his credit, did not try explain why he had decided not to help with my Ken-Stalker issue, and instead bowed his head and apologized to both myself and Splinter for his negligence. Splinter shook his head and waved it off. "Some things cannot be predicted, my son. And men who lack human decency are even harder to predict, because they will do anything." This seemed to cheer Leo up slightly, as he sat up a little straighter. "But," Splinter continued, "we should continue to be on our guard. It is doubtful that we have seen the last of this man."
"Ugh," I said, and made a face.
"Indeed," said Master Splinter. He stood up slowly and sighed. "For now, however, I believe we can rest easy knowing that he would not be so bold as to try anything again too soon."
We all got up to go do our separate individual things (or in the case of myself and Don, be teased by everyone) but as the two of us began to move off, Splinter called, "Donatello and Irma. If you two would be so good as to remain behind…" We froze, and I felt the familiar licks of nervousness appear inside me. Oh, crap, he doesn't approve, does he? Damnit! It's because I'm too loud, I know it!
"Donatello, if you would come speak to me in my meditation room." He began to move in the direction also, and then glanced back at me. "I would appreciate it, Irma, if you would wait here until I am done speaking with my son."
I gulped, and I'm pretty sure all the blood had drained from my face. Don kissed my cheek in an attempt to reassure me before he headed in to speak to his father. It didn't work. I sat down on the sofa by myself and tried to take deep breaths. That didn't work either. I put my head in my hands and counted to ten, because that usually worked. But it didn't. So I had to resort to going to the freezer and getting out some ice cream and then to the cabinet where Ralph kept his hard liquor. But then I thought that I had resorted to ice cream too much recently and my waist would soon be showing it. So I put the ice cream back. I also remembered that Raph would kill me if he found out I snatched his booze, so I put that back too. Then I went to sit back on the sofa and did my best to not throw up from sheer terror.
There was a small part of me that wanted desperately to go eavesdrop against the door, but I knew that there was no way in heck that I would ever get away with that. So I was stuck outside, wondering what on earth was going on when the door opened and Donny stepped out. "Hey, Irma," he called softly. "Sensei would like to speak with you now." I looked at the clock. It had been around ten minutes since Don had gone in. I stood up and took a deep breath. Get psyched, Irma, get psyched, I told myself.
I went to the door where my turtle (that was a shock; I almost tripped when I realized I had thought of him as mine) was holding it open for me, watching my face for any sign of the nausea I'm sure he knew I was feeling. We exchanged a brief look as I walked into the room, and his eyes seemed to convey all the feelings he had for me as he shut the door behind me, holding my gaze for as long as he could. If someone had told me a year before that a turtle would make me go weak at the knees, I would have suggested them to the nearest psychiatrist. And yet, here we were.
The door shut with a quiet but firm 'thud', and I turned to see Master Splinter sitting on the opposite side of a small table that was set with his usual tea. He smiled at me encouragingly and motioned to the seat across from him. "Come. Sit and talk with me."
My mouth was dry, my palms were sweaty. My hair was short. My confidence level was, at least in this particular area, rather low. But I sat down from the person who had raised the four brothers who had saved my life several times, and despite my fear I still carried great respect for him. I wasn't sure which of us was supposed to get the ball rolling, but as he sipped his tea, I decided to start. "Thank you, Master Splinter, for letting me stay here again. I know it must be a great inconvenience to you."
He set his tea down and shook his head. "That is nonsense, child, and well you know it. My sons and I greatly enjoy your company, and I particularly appreciate your skills in organization. No, we will not discuss that."
"Then what will we discuss, sir?"
"My son's great affection for you, of course."
"Of course," I whispered.
"Now," he began, "it has been obvious to me, and, I believe to his brothers as well, that Donatello has been somewhat infatuated with you from the start."
My eyes widened. "From the- excuse me?"
"Do not behave as though you did not know it," he admonished gently. "His actions were very typical of a young man with strong feelings of a romantic nature towards you. And," Splinter's eyes caught and held mine, "your behavior towards him was very similar."
A fierce blush worked its way up my cheeks, but I still felt some confusion. Before that night at the dance, before I danced with him… Had I felt something else? Had I been harboring feelings that I hadn't recognized.
"Perhaps I did," I said, more to myself than to him, and my voice was surprised. "I guess… well, all things considered…" I had spent more time talking to him than to the others. I had looked forward to his visits more often. And my heart had done little leaps when he had signed onto our instant messaging system…
"Jesus Christ!" I exclaimed in a shocked tone, "I fell for him and I didn't even know it!"
Master Splinter had taken a sip of tea before my surprised outburst, and promptly began choking on it as soon as I took the Lord's Name in vain (I did the sign of the cross to make up for it though). I rushed to his side and began to pat his back; after a moment he waved me away and I sat back. He took a moment to compose himself, but the fact that I had made him choke did not bode well for me, and suddenly the fear that I felt burst from my chest and into my mouth and-
"Look, I know I'm definitely not the person you ever expected that any of your sons would find, if you expected it at all, but I really… I really care about him. I want him to be happy." My voice grew soft as I spoke, and I said the last words with complete honesty; "I want to make him happy."
"But," I continued, "if you really don't think that I can do that, then… then I'd like to prove it to you. Because he's important to me. And I don't want to come between you two."
I stared down at my hands and spoke in soft tones. "I know I'm not the best person when it comes to, to romance and stuff. I've made a lot of mistakes and done a lot of things that I'm not proud of. But I can tell you," I turned my eyes to his again, "I can tell you that I'll do my best. I promise I will."
Master Splinter took my hand in his and patted it. "I know, Irma," he said. "I know. You need not prove anything to me. I know."
"But," he said, releasing my hand, his voice serious, "he is still a turtle, and despite what you feel for each other, he cannot give you many, many things that you might otherwise have." I stared down at my hands again as he spoke. "He cannot offer you a true home, as a human man could. He cannot provide for you, or shelter you from much of life. He cannot marry you," he said quietly, and a tiny pang with through my heart. "He cannot marry you, and he cannot give you children. He can protect you, but it would be a lie if I were to say anything besides the truth: that he is very often in danger, and it may involve you. Irma," he leaned forward slightly, to emphasize his words. "He places himself in harm's way very often. If you and Donatello wish to remain together, if you wish to keep your feelings for each other strong, you must be prepared to suffer these things. You must be prepared to living alone in the eyes of all others, to keep him and ourselves a secret. You must be prepared to go without the joy of raising children given to you by him. You must be prepared, Irma…" and he paused briefly before speaking again, and he looked pained. "You must be prepared for the inevitable."
"You mean if he gets killed," I said bluntly. He sighed and nodded. We were both silent for a moment as we considered the likelihood of that happening. "I won't let that happen," I said, and my voice was harder than I thought it could be, coming from me.
"You may not be able to stop it," Splinter replied.
"Then I'll do whatever I can to prevent it."
He made a small sound of approval (I think) and nodded his head. "This is acceptable to me." I heaved a sigh of relief. "Just remember," he raised a warning finger at me, "what I have cautioned you about. It may prove to be too difficult for you in the end. Be ready for these things."
"I will. Or… I'll do my best."
He smiled. "That is all anyone can ask. Now then," he said, sitting back, his demeanor changing to a more relaxed one, "I believe one of my sons is very eagerly awaiting the results of our conversation." His eyes twinkled briefly with merriment. "Try to give him a scare. It'll do him some good."
With a grin, I stood up and walked to the door, feeling much better about my chances now.
The next couple of months were calm, peaceful even, in regards to life-threatening situations and threats. In other areas, such as the job department, things were not going so well.
There were just not very many jobs open for a librarian at that particular time, for whatever reason. I was overqualified for the lower positions and under-qualified for anything besides what I had already been doing- acquisitions and general library work. I had some money set aside to help me get by for a while, a few months or so. I spent most of my time job-hunting online or walking around looking for 'Help wanted' signs.
My evenings were now almost always taken up with Donatello, not that I minded that in the least. He would always try to stop by at least once a day, in the early morning and semi-late evening. The first time he came over in the morning, I was fast asleep and woke up to him kissing me on the forehead. Unfortunately, the sweet gesture was ruined by the fact that I was unused to being greeted that way in the morning and swatted his face away in my half-unconscious confusion. Once I realized who it was, I apologized profusely and we ended up cuddling in my bed until I fell back asleep. I awoke later on to find a note on my pillow wishing me a good day and that he'd be back later if he could. It turned into a routine where he would come by in the morning, wake me up and then snuggle until I went back to bed. Then at night I would make dinner late so he could come and eat with me, and we'd talk. Sometimes the other boys would join us and we would all laugh and have a good time, but usually it was just the two of us. I went to the Lair much more often now, both to be with him and to just make sure everything was running smoothly. I became a sort of house keeper, I suppose, although I rarely had to do any cleaning, just organizing, cooking when they were too tired, and going to get the essentials they needed. They all appreciated it, especially Master Splinter, and they let me know quite frequently.
Nothing happened between Don and I other than the cuddling and kissing. Neither of us were planning on going any further until we had figured everything out and had 'adjusted' to the newness of it all. We both recognized early on that we were sort of in a 'honey-moon' stage and that we couldn't let it get to our heads too much, because that was when you made the most mistakes. I knew this from experience; he knew this from studying psychology.
The others adjusted to it all fairly quickly. Michelangelo was elated; he took much of the credit since he had conspired to get us together since that fateful night at the warehouse. The Christmas Party had been his master plan, and although it hadn't gone quite the way he'd planned, it couldn't be said that he'd failed.
Leonardo was supportive of us, making sure to include me in whatever everyone was doing (usually; we had all agreed that it was best I be kept away from any sort of weapon whatsoever) and taking time out to talk to me and Don about each other when we needed advice or just had questions.
Casey and April were much the same way; April and I still got together on Friday nights, but now I had stories to exchange about my guy too. She was able to give me advice and insight on his actions when I was confused and worried, which I appreciated, and she told me that Don often went to Casey when he was unsure about something to do with me. We both appreciated their help.
And Raphael was… Raphael. He treated us both the same way he always had, with a sort of teasing and occasionally disdainful manner. But he never made us feel unsure or awkward and I knew I could rely on him to lend a shoulder for me to cry on when I needed it.
Master Splinter treated me much the same, always polite, but he wasn't so formal in some aspects with me. There were some things that I did now that I hadn't done when I was only a guest and everyone was fine with it. It included going into every guy's room and cleaning it. Raph came home one time shortly after I had organized his things, and his cry of horror had echoed throughout the Lair in a very satisfying way. Donny had had to pick me up and run with me in his arms out of the Lair and back to my apartment, dodging Raph's throwing stars all the way there.
Suffice to say, things were rather perfectly glorious.
The one other thing that I did in my spare time when I wasn't looking for jobs or spending time with Don was working on the Puzzle Box. I'm sure you can guess which one I'm referring to. After Karai's appearance at the scene of the fire, I had decided to take her advice and get rid of the damn thing, including whatever was inside it. However, whatever was inside it would probably keep me from destroying it completely. I couldn't smash the thing, and short of tossing it into the Hudson Bay (which I did consider) there was nothing that I could do. Throwing it into the ocean didn't seem like a very good idea either. I kept having flashing images of the box washing up on shore and coming back to bite me in the butt somehow. To prevent this outcome, I decided to keep it where it was. But, to coin a phrase, getting it open so I could burn whatever was inside was a bitch.
I had gotten good at puzzle boxes in the previous months. I mean really, really good. It was an encouraging sign that I could get some things to shift and figure out a few patterns, but most of it was just pure luck when I managed to get something to move.
The big breakthrough came one afternoon when I was sitting in front of the metal box, my mind mostly burned out from the pitiful attempts I had been making to crack the case, when I got a text on my phone. It was my brother, asking me to send him a picture via text of my new haircut. I was browsing through my photos to find one suitable when I happened to spot the pictures I had taken of the stolen painting in the warehouse. I sniffed derisively at the memories and prepared to delete the pictures when I noticed something interesting. Frowning, I zoomed in on one photo and looked closely at the angle of a lily pad in the shot. My eyes widened in shock, and I turned to stare at the box. On the box in front of me was a panel, a panel that had defied all my attempts to move it. It was a round shape, not perfect, and it had a few odd indentions on it.
It looked exactly like the lily pad on my phone. Immediately, I began scanning my other pictures of the painting and looking for patterns in the box. Hesitantly, I reached out and turned the lily pad piece a quarter to the right, so that it lined up with another piece of the box that looked like a fish underwater that was in the painting. I heard a click.
At that moment, I understood completely. The painting hadn't been stolen because it was valuable in of itself; it was valuable because it was the key to the box! And thus, whatever was inside it! That was why it had been stolen.
My second wind came to me in a rush, revitalizing me, and I redoubled my efforts on the box using the pictures on my phone. It was still slow going and it wasn't easy to figure out the specific order of what needed to be moved, but I made significantly more progress on the box in the next hour than I had in the previous month put together.
It was after I decided to take a break that I realized that my apartment was just not suited to the protection of an ancient, potentially deadly relic that had been lost for centuries. It needed to be kept safe. It needed to be guarded, particularly by someone other than me. It needed to go to the Lair.
I told Donatello about it first, when he came to visit me that night. He knew something was up when I greeted him at the window with a scotch, which he only drank when he was very perturbed about something. As soon as he crawled through the window I put it in his hand, and he stared at it momentarily before turning back to me with a resigned expression. "Alright, what did you do now?"
"What, can't a girl give her man a drink?"
"She can, but usually right before giving him a bill for something big."
"Well, you're paranoid. I don't have a bill."
"Good, because I wouldn't be able to help you with it anyway."
"I have something that might blow me up though."
He had taken a sip of his scotch, and the second I said that, Don began to choke on it. I had to pat his back (shell, rather) a few minutes before could speak, and when he did, I could tell he was trying to control his temper. "When you say 'I have something that might blow me up', what, exactly, do you mean?"
With a sigh, I took his hand and pulled him to my office room where the metal box was sitting on the ground, the moved panels giving it an even stranger look than before. Don stared at it without expression, and then tossed back the rest of his scotch in one go. He gave a hiss and shook his head, then put his glass down and turned to me. "Irma," he said pleasantly, "please don't be too mad when I say this, but ARE YOU FREAKING INSANE? How long have you had this thing? What the hell IS it? What have you been doing, making pacts with long-dead deities? How'd you even GET this thing?"
"It's not like I planned this!" I wailed. "The guy was dying! He just handed it to me! What was I supposed to do, just shove it back into his hands?"
"YES!" Don shouted at me. "When someone hands you something that literally HUMS with power, you are NOT SUPPOSED TO TAKE IT!"
"He didn't hand me the box, he gave me a key!"
"What the heck was the key for?"
"Storage room," I replied.
Donatello took my face in his hands so I was looking directly at him. "How did you know which storage room?" he asked.
"Had the company logo on the key," I responded immediately. I wasn't exactly proud of the skill, but I had developed the gift of lying very convincingly early on in life. Despite the dubious moral ramifications of using this particular ability, it sure as hell came in handy on occasion.
My turtle scanned my face for a few moments before releasing me with a sigh. "Alright," he said. "So we've got something that explains why your college has been bombed."
"How do you figure that?" I asked him.
"Obviously, somehow someone knows you were at that warehouse and they know you have the key," he said seriously. "You breaking up with someone would probably not cause someone to blow up a library."
"Oh… Well, that's not very romantic," I complained.
My boyfriend stared at me incomprehensibly. "You want someone to blow up your workplace to prove his love for you?"
"It gets the message across."
He gave me a very un-Donatello-like smirk. It was kind of… sexy. "I can think of other ways to prove my love for you that doesn't involve fire. Well, not that kind of fire anyway."
My mouth went dry. "Oh." The mood was suddenly very charged. But then Don turned back to the box and it died.
"We really should take this down to the Lair," he said from his crouching position on the floor, not looking up at me. "Despite your excellent right hook, that probably won't be enough to protect this thing."
"Oh, good," I told him. "I was really hoping you'd say that."
"Of course," he said. "The chance of this thing discharging or creating some negative energy is unlikely, but I don't want to risk it." He turned to look up at me, his face serious. "I had nightmares about you being burned alive or leaving for weeks after the fire at the library. I won't let you get hurt again." He turned back to examine the box. "The unusual configuration and atypical usage of the metal-" and that was as far as he got before I tackled him so that he was lying on his back and I kissed him fiercely while sitting on his chest. He was very surprised for a moment, but quickly warmed up.
There was no discussion of the box for the next few seconds until I pulled back with a smile. "You're the first person ever to talk about protecting me like that. Thank you."
"If that's the reaction I get just from mentioning your safety, next time I'll go into concrete bunkers for you."
I won't go into the rest of the conversation because it deteriorated into sweet, mushy, lovey-dovey stuff after that, but it ended with Don taking the box with him to the Lair and the promise that we could work on it together down there from then on. I was seeing him off at the window that overlooked the ally, his arms full of Weird Box when he turned to me and gave me a surprise kiss, long and deep, before heading out, not needing to see the blush crawling up my cheeks to know it was there. "I'll see you later, Irms," he told me. "Also, you're the most beautiful woman in the world."
Despite the fact that I probably had people looking for me so they could take my head and I was jobless, I had never been happier before in my life.
Phew. Okay, a short(er) chapter, but can I just say I'm glad it was short? After several 15-plus page chapters, a small one like this was a refreshing change. Plus, some important things happened here that set up the rest of the story. I decided to throw in the Donny and Irma stuff to keep you romantic types happy while the other important but not as explosive stuff starts playing out.
I hope you all enjoyed it, despite the lack of BOOMS and fire, but even if you didn't PLEASE REVIEEEEWWWW… Every time you review, a kitten gets adopted. And when you don't, it gets killed and turned into violin strings. Not by me though, cause I like kitties.