Okay, so having ranted everything that needs to be ranted at the top of
Chapter 1, then I guess all that needs to be said here is to repeat the
Disclaimer right? And if you don't know what I'm talking about, what are
you doing starting at Chapter 2? Go back and read no.1 first, impatient!
I want to thank my one and only reviewer JeFfYzGaL2: it's always nice to get positive feedback on a story. And once again, sorry I beat you to your concept, but like I said, no reason why you can't still give it a go. I'd like to read your version someday!
Disclaimer: As fore-mentioned I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. Though I'm working on it! The OC 'Madeline' however is a creation of my own imagination and therefore belongs to me.
-- CHAPTER 2 --
It was sometime after eleven o'clock at night when they returned to the lair, spilling into the cavernous subway platform home from the sewer tunnels, wet, cold and a mixed bag of opinions on their guest.
"Bbrrrr! I like water as much as the next mutant turtle, but I call dibs on the first hot shower!" Michaelangelo hollered, snagging one of the old tattered blankets which draped over the back of the couch, slinging it around his shoulders and dancing into the subway car trying to dry the freezing rain from his skin enroute.
"Mikey! Shhhhh! You're gonna wake up Master Splinter!" Donatello snapped as he padded down the stairs decisively more silent then his brother.
Leonardo however, was not so quick to enter the lair, pausing at the top of the steps, looking down at the human woman, wet and shivering in his hold. The dim floodlights rigged up overhead showed her pale skin colourless and waxy, the full pout of her lips tinted blue from the cold. Her dark hair hung heavily over his arm, mattered into gentle ringlets and dripping water into a steadily spreading puddle at his feet.
She looked so fragile to him then, so incredibly tender, it struck him for a moment out of time how he could be clutching her so tightly and not shatter her to pieces like a china doll.
Leonardo had never been so admiring of a human before, he didn't even trust humans, Splinter had warned him far too many times of their ignorant brutality. This woman's predicament tonight proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt.
But looking at her in that light, right that minute, he wanted to know what her voice sounded like and hear it speak her name so desperately it hurt like iron fetters crushing his heart.
"Man, she don't look so good, huh, Leo?" Raphael's voice beside him startled the older turtle out of his private daydream so suddenly it took Leonardo a beat to reply.
"Yeah, I think we should wake up Sensei..." he suggested, despite the lecture it might earn them. He was more worried about her getting hypothermia in those wet clothes then weathering another of his father's reprimands. "He'll know what to do."
Raphael knew his brother was right, but he wasn't looking forward to coping the consequences from the old rat; the look he gave the blue-bandana wearing turtle as he got to the bottom of the stairs spoke it in volumes. Grumbling under his breath about 'not needing this shit' he began shedding his wet gear on the way to the end carriage where their master was no doubt deep in meditation.
Leonardo wasted no time descending onto the platform with the unconscious woman in his arms, but rather then heading for the old beat-up couch parked infront of the television set, he kept going, heading into the train and towards his bedroom.
Donatello watched him pass, confused as he stopped mid-action of piling cushions onto the sofa. Following him into the shelter, he stuck his head into the doorway and called down the hallway: "Hey, hey, Leo, where are you taking her??"
"My room." Leonardo replied, not turning in the narrow space to look at his brother, instead, he shifted the woman's weight awkwardly in his arms, almost cracking her skull on the overhead cupboards, and managed to open the partition door with his foot, nudging it apart and slipping in sideways. He didn't notice the height Donatello's brows had shot up to at his back...
Inside the small, but relatively clean compartment which had been converted into a quarters, Leonardo laid her out on his covers, pushing an old book about the Art of Iaido off onto the nightstand to make room. Sinking down to sit on the edge of the mattress beside her he stared helplessly at her body, trying to figure out what to do now. Should he cover her over with a blanket? But she was still in those wet clothes, so it wouldn't do much in the way of warmth. Examining her attire, he conceded that he could at least take that corduroy jacket, heavy with water, off and scooted up closer to do so. He turned as much as he could without pulling his legs up onto the bed, balanced himself with one arm braced beside her shoulder, and began to fumble with the zipper. His large fingers proved to be a frustrating obstacle until he finally gave a grunt of defeat and drew one of his katanas from his back, slipping the tip of the blade under the bottom hem and gently slicing the garment open up the side of the slide. Replacing his weapon back in its straps, he leant over her body, got one hand under her shoulder blades and ever so carefully, as if she might break, he eased her weight upright into a sitting position, resting her head against his shoulder while the other worked one arm out of the sleeve. He switched hands to tug it free on the other side and tossed the jacket onto the floor where it landed with a wet –SPLOTCH--.
Easing the woman back onto the covers, he sat back, letting his eyes travel down the length of her and back up again, trying to find anything else he could remove without compromising the lady's dignity. A warm flush rushed straight to his head when he noticed the fly of her jeans was still open from her attacker's amorous attempt, showing the triangle of her mauve- colored cotton underwear. Leonardo stared at the delicate lace trim along the top of the panties, wondering what he was supposed to do about that. He couldn't just leave it open for all his brothers to gawk at when they came in. But it just didn't seem right to have his hands so close to such an intimate place on her body. It would be taking advantage of her, wouldn't it? I'll just do up the top button, he decided. No touching the zip, just pop the button in and no lower.
Right, that sounded like a decent plan...
Leonardo had faced an entire horde of Foot soldiers without even batting an eyelid in the past, but now, at the prospect of this task, he found his throat was dry and his hands trembled horribly as he reached out and took either side of the clothing between his thumb and forefinger, slowly pulling the taunt fabric together to hide away the stark evidence of her under garments...
"Leonardo!"
"Yahhh!"
The ninja leapt up from the bed as if he had been struck and whirled to find Splinter, the aged and graying mutant rat whom was like father to them all, leaning on his gnarled walking stick and clutching a bundle of old cloth under one arm. His brothers Donatello and Raphael were crowded behind him, both staring with mouths agape and eyes disbelieving.
They knew it couldn't be what it had looked like. Leonardo SO did not just have his hands down the blind chick's pants...
"Master Splinter!" Leonardo greeted his sensei, stepping hastily away from the bed and bowing, wiping his clammy palms down the skin of his thighs in an awkward gesture. "I uh.... Her pants were... ummmm..."
Splinter's dark gaze flickered to the human woman laid out on his son's bed, catching the sight of the denim garment unfastened and a sly little smile crept into the corners of his whiskered maw. Those benevolent eyes twinkled with a hidden amusement for the teenager's bad luck at being caught in such a compromising position, but he said nothing of it; instead he pulled the folded heap of fabric out from under his arm and unfurled it, holding it up for Leonardo to see. It was one of the rat's dusty and faded robes, plain and simple homespun cloth with less tears in it then the one he wore himself.
"That will not be necessary, my son...." his dry and rasping voice, filled with seemingly endless calm whispered. "I want all of you leave us. I will see to her clothes."
It took the three turtles a moment to obey as they exchanged looks over the unspoken fact that their sensei was going to be the only one to see her naked. Raphael looked annoyed, as if he had wanted to stay, and Donatello more then a little irked as he pictured what she might look like under those garments. Leonardo cleared his throat prominently, and forced them away from the door as he exited, muttering: "C'mon, guys, you heard Master Splinter... Let's give her some privacy, huh? C'mon get outta here!"
He planted a hard shove to their shells which propelled both of them down the narrow corridor, and followed silently, the look on his face daring them to try and get past. Raphael cursed as his hip whacked the little fold- up kitchen table, kicking the piece of furniture askew furiously as he filed out after Donatello onto the platform living area.
"God damn boy-scout!" he grumbled, falling onto the couch and grabbing the remote.
----------
And this is where the naughtiness comes into it, so far purely innocent 'boys will be boys' stuff of course, but still, it's a taste of my style in handling sexual scenes. Once again, if its not to your taste.... Oh well.
Stay tuned! The chapters are coming thick and fast as I can write them, folks! -QA
I want to thank my one and only reviewer JeFfYzGaL2: it's always nice to get positive feedback on a story. And once again, sorry I beat you to your concept, but like I said, no reason why you can't still give it a go. I'd like to read your version someday!
Disclaimer: As fore-mentioned I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. Though I'm working on it! The OC 'Madeline' however is a creation of my own imagination and therefore belongs to me.
-- CHAPTER 2 --
It was sometime after eleven o'clock at night when they returned to the lair, spilling into the cavernous subway platform home from the sewer tunnels, wet, cold and a mixed bag of opinions on their guest.
"Bbrrrr! I like water as much as the next mutant turtle, but I call dibs on the first hot shower!" Michaelangelo hollered, snagging one of the old tattered blankets which draped over the back of the couch, slinging it around his shoulders and dancing into the subway car trying to dry the freezing rain from his skin enroute.
"Mikey! Shhhhh! You're gonna wake up Master Splinter!" Donatello snapped as he padded down the stairs decisively more silent then his brother.
Leonardo however, was not so quick to enter the lair, pausing at the top of the steps, looking down at the human woman, wet and shivering in his hold. The dim floodlights rigged up overhead showed her pale skin colourless and waxy, the full pout of her lips tinted blue from the cold. Her dark hair hung heavily over his arm, mattered into gentle ringlets and dripping water into a steadily spreading puddle at his feet.
She looked so fragile to him then, so incredibly tender, it struck him for a moment out of time how he could be clutching her so tightly and not shatter her to pieces like a china doll.
Leonardo had never been so admiring of a human before, he didn't even trust humans, Splinter had warned him far too many times of their ignorant brutality. This woman's predicament tonight proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt.
But looking at her in that light, right that minute, he wanted to know what her voice sounded like and hear it speak her name so desperately it hurt like iron fetters crushing his heart.
"Man, she don't look so good, huh, Leo?" Raphael's voice beside him startled the older turtle out of his private daydream so suddenly it took Leonardo a beat to reply.
"Yeah, I think we should wake up Sensei..." he suggested, despite the lecture it might earn them. He was more worried about her getting hypothermia in those wet clothes then weathering another of his father's reprimands. "He'll know what to do."
Raphael knew his brother was right, but he wasn't looking forward to coping the consequences from the old rat; the look he gave the blue-bandana wearing turtle as he got to the bottom of the stairs spoke it in volumes. Grumbling under his breath about 'not needing this shit' he began shedding his wet gear on the way to the end carriage where their master was no doubt deep in meditation.
Leonardo wasted no time descending onto the platform with the unconscious woman in his arms, but rather then heading for the old beat-up couch parked infront of the television set, he kept going, heading into the train and towards his bedroom.
Donatello watched him pass, confused as he stopped mid-action of piling cushions onto the sofa. Following him into the shelter, he stuck his head into the doorway and called down the hallway: "Hey, hey, Leo, where are you taking her??"
"My room." Leonardo replied, not turning in the narrow space to look at his brother, instead, he shifted the woman's weight awkwardly in his arms, almost cracking her skull on the overhead cupboards, and managed to open the partition door with his foot, nudging it apart and slipping in sideways. He didn't notice the height Donatello's brows had shot up to at his back...
Inside the small, but relatively clean compartment which had been converted into a quarters, Leonardo laid her out on his covers, pushing an old book about the Art of Iaido off onto the nightstand to make room. Sinking down to sit on the edge of the mattress beside her he stared helplessly at her body, trying to figure out what to do now. Should he cover her over with a blanket? But she was still in those wet clothes, so it wouldn't do much in the way of warmth. Examining her attire, he conceded that he could at least take that corduroy jacket, heavy with water, off and scooted up closer to do so. He turned as much as he could without pulling his legs up onto the bed, balanced himself with one arm braced beside her shoulder, and began to fumble with the zipper. His large fingers proved to be a frustrating obstacle until he finally gave a grunt of defeat and drew one of his katanas from his back, slipping the tip of the blade under the bottom hem and gently slicing the garment open up the side of the slide. Replacing his weapon back in its straps, he leant over her body, got one hand under her shoulder blades and ever so carefully, as if she might break, he eased her weight upright into a sitting position, resting her head against his shoulder while the other worked one arm out of the sleeve. He switched hands to tug it free on the other side and tossed the jacket onto the floor where it landed with a wet –SPLOTCH--.
Easing the woman back onto the covers, he sat back, letting his eyes travel down the length of her and back up again, trying to find anything else he could remove without compromising the lady's dignity. A warm flush rushed straight to his head when he noticed the fly of her jeans was still open from her attacker's amorous attempt, showing the triangle of her mauve- colored cotton underwear. Leonardo stared at the delicate lace trim along the top of the panties, wondering what he was supposed to do about that. He couldn't just leave it open for all his brothers to gawk at when they came in. But it just didn't seem right to have his hands so close to such an intimate place on her body. It would be taking advantage of her, wouldn't it? I'll just do up the top button, he decided. No touching the zip, just pop the button in and no lower.
Right, that sounded like a decent plan...
Leonardo had faced an entire horde of Foot soldiers without even batting an eyelid in the past, but now, at the prospect of this task, he found his throat was dry and his hands trembled horribly as he reached out and took either side of the clothing between his thumb and forefinger, slowly pulling the taunt fabric together to hide away the stark evidence of her under garments...
"Leonardo!"
"Yahhh!"
The ninja leapt up from the bed as if he had been struck and whirled to find Splinter, the aged and graying mutant rat whom was like father to them all, leaning on his gnarled walking stick and clutching a bundle of old cloth under one arm. His brothers Donatello and Raphael were crowded behind him, both staring with mouths agape and eyes disbelieving.
They knew it couldn't be what it had looked like. Leonardo SO did not just have his hands down the blind chick's pants...
"Master Splinter!" Leonardo greeted his sensei, stepping hastily away from the bed and bowing, wiping his clammy palms down the skin of his thighs in an awkward gesture. "I uh.... Her pants were... ummmm..."
Splinter's dark gaze flickered to the human woman laid out on his son's bed, catching the sight of the denim garment unfastened and a sly little smile crept into the corners of his whiskered maw. Those benevolent eyes twinkled with a hidden amusement for the teenager's bad luck at being caught in such a compromising position, but he said nothing of it; instead he pulled the folded heap of fabric out from under his arm and unfurled it, holding it up for Leonardo to see. It was one of the rat's dusty and faded robes, plain and simple homespun cloth with less tears in it then the one he wore himself.
"That will not be necessary, my son...." his dry and rasping voice, filled with seemingly endless calm whispered. "I want all of you leave us. I will see to her clothes."
It took the three turtles a moment to obey as they exchanged looks over the unspoken fact that their sensei was going to be the only one to see her naked. Raphael looked annoyed, as if he had wanted to stay, and Donatello more then a little irked as he pictured what she might look like under those garments. Leonardo cleared his throat prominently, and forced them away from the door as he exited, muttering: "C'mon, guys, you heard Master Splinter... Let's give her some privacy, huh? C'mon get outta here!"
He planted a hard shove to their shells which propelled both of them down the narrow corridor, and followed silently, the look on his face daring them to try and get past. Raphael cursed as his hip whacked the little fold- up kitchen table, kicking the piece of furniture askew furiously as he filed out after Donatello onto the platform living area.
"God damn boy-scout!" he grumbled, falling onto the couch and grabbing the remote.
----------
And this is where the naughtiness comes into it, so far purely innocent 'boys will be boys' stuff of course, but still, it's a taste of my style in handling sexual scenes. Once again, if its not to your taste.... Oh well.
Stay tuned! The chapters are coming thick and fast as I can write them, folks! -QA
