Author's comments: Oh no! Lock the women and children inside! Grab your pitchforks! No it's not Shrek! But it is equally green! It's... [drum roll] ... chapter 5!

Reinbeauchaser: What would I do without you? Probably send my readers blue in the face trying to get out my loooooong sentences in a single breath! I've once again taken your advice on board and made subsequent changes to the previous chapter. Oh, and that part about Leo taking her by the wrist – I added a little more detail in there. Hope it fills in some of those blanks.

As for my other two reviewers (JeFfYzGaL2 and prepare4trouble) I'm delighted you like how it's coming on so far. And please, like Reinbeau, don't be afraid to tell me if something doesn't seem quite right.

Disclaimer: I'm just going to keep cutting and pasting the paragraph from the first chapter here, because I am running out of different ways to word the same legality. So here you go: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. My only claim to this is my OC 'Madeline'. (See comment above Disclaimer in chapter 1 for why not to sue me, you bullies! Freedom of speech! The fans must be heard! Rah rah rah!)

-- CHAPTER 5 --

After returning to the room she had woken up in, Madeline didn't feel much like sleeping. She had laid there under the blankets of various sizes and textures and stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to distract her thoughts by wondering what colour it was. Short of asking Leonardo, her host, she really had no other way of finding out. And she didn't feel like going back out there in the wake of that brief, uncomfortable and disastrous introduction. So that train of thought quickly caved in and she was left with no weapon to fend off the still too vivid memories of the attack.

She must have replayed it more then a dozen times in various parts—some from the moment she stepped out of her apartment right up to that slap which had sent her reeling. With these disturbing snippets running around in her head she finally fell into a fitful sleep hours later. She had dreams, not all of them about different scenarios of the trauma as would have been only fitting for some melodramatic soap opera. In reality, she didn't really remember dreaming about the would-be rapist at all. But just under the surface of her subconscious the dread and disgust of the ordeal was always in the backdrop, making confusing appearances at the strangest times and confusing her.

As a result, when she was gently shaken awake sometime later by a big, firm hand on her shoulder, Madeline didn't feel very rested at all.

"Hey, babe... Hey, hey, wake up... Helllllooooo?"

It was a voice she didn't know --younger, a little higher pitched then Leo's and filled with a mischievousness the other had not possessed last night.

Startled by the fact a stranger was waking her up, the woman stiffened, jerked her shoulder out from under the touch and sat up quickly with a gasp.

"Whooooa, chill out!" the male yelped, the sound of feet doing a quick backward shuffle from the bed accompanying it. "Hey, you know, even though your hair looks like a freakin' afro.... that 'come hither in the mornin' thing is really workin' for you!"

Madeline didn't know what to do or say to that. She kept her knees clamped tightly together, only just remembering she could be giving this man a lewd view and slid back against the wall on the other side of the mattress.

"Um, excuse me... but... who are you?"

A silence which lasted long enough for her to tell the other was either confused or offended stretched out.

"Who am I? Who am I?! What? Didn't Leo tell you about me?!"

Madeline actually thought for a moment, trying to clear the cobwebs of sleep which still hung in her memory. She didn't remember Leo saying much about himself or anyone else during their short dialogue on the couch last night. Certainly not anything about an apparently cheeky flat mate. Or, here was a thought, boyfriend? Was Leonardo gay?!

"I'm sorry... but, no."

An overly dramatic gasp sounded as the speaker sucked in a deep lungful of air. "Dude! That is so lame! Wait 'til I get my fucking hands on him!... Opps, sorry, 'scuse the naughty word there." She heard a sound like the clinking of a tea cup against a saucer and something was set down on the floor beside the futon with a faint rattle. "Well, the name's Michaelangelo, baby! The best lookin', most handsomest omelet maker in all of New York city! And I made you breakfast!"

Madeline couldn't help but laugh at that, but the humour was quickly sapped out of it when the word 'funny' became 'flamboyant' and she was back to wondering if this was Leonardo's lover. He was certainly spunky enough to be the female of such a relationship. Her stricken look must have showed, because Michaelangelo quickly added: "Babe, I'm Leo's little brother!"

"Oh, thank goodness..." she chuckled, letting out the breath she had been holding. Immediately the tension drained from her posture and she almost collapsed back onto the bed.

"Damn, who the hell did you THINK I was?" Michael laughed –he had an infectious chortle to match the undertone in his voice.

Artfully skirting around that question, Madeline lowered herself back down onto her stomach ontop of the covers and reached out to finger the contents of the tray. She made out the sponge-like texture of what smelt like a cheesy egg pancake, a tall cool glass frosted with condensation and a quaint little vase chipped on one side holding a flower which felt something like a dandy-lion.

"Oh, how sweet..." she mused, pulling the flower carefully from the holder and bringing it to her nose. By its juniper scent she decided it was a common weed bloom, but with no less thought put into its inclusion.

"The flower was Donnie's idea."

"'Donnie'?"

"What, Leo didn't tell you about ANY of us?!" Again Mike exaggerated a hurt and insulted vocal pout.

"I'm afraid our conversation was rather..... stunted." Madeline admitted, feeling her face fall and change as she remembered how sorry he had sounded. She would have to find him after finishing Michaelangelo's thoughtful breakfast and assure him.

"Huhn, really? I figured you two must've really hit it off or somethin' with the way Leo was actin' all weird out in the hall. Oh, hey!" the younger sibling gave a bark of laughter and blurted out: "I never asked you what your name was!"

"Leonardo didn't give it to you?" Madeline looked worried.

"Nope. Haven't seen him all morning! He's probably still in the dojo working on his moves or something."

Dojo? The unique word stuck out in his sentence like a neon sign, conjuring up images of karate masters in white pajamas flipping, kicking and punching around some big long room with wall to wall bamboo mats. Did Leonardo, Michaelangelo and this 'Donnie' teach some sort of self-defense classes?

Pushing the detail aside and storing it away in her memory for later consideration, Madeline decided to take care of business between her and Michael first. "Well, then, allow me to introduce myself." She began, reaching over and offering her hand to thin air with a smile. "My name is Madeline. Madeline Breckin. But like I told your brother, you can call me Maddy instead."

"Cool. 'Maddy', huh? Sounds French or something..." Mikey quipped, leaning down and slotting his hand to fit nice and snug around hers. The size of his hand completely dwarfed hers, and just like his brother, he had a roughened feel to his touch. As a second slipped over the top of her own to envelop it completely between his, the realization struck her: it wasn't dry or peeling skin which gave his hands their feel, but more a pebbled texture. And he only had three fingers, on both hands!

The gasp whispered from her throat without Madeline really even hearing it, stilling Mike's handshake and making him stop as if he had frozen in place at the sound.

"What? What's wrong?" he asked.

Madeline wasn't sure if she could free the hand trapped between his, so instead she reached out with the other, placing it just above his wrist and caressing the solid, firm muscle there critically. Her subject didn't shift or try to pull away as she worked her way up his arm, apparently confused as to just what it was she was doing. Rising up onto her knees, she leant in and stroked her fingertips over the contours of a toned, bare shoulder, feeling that his skin was the same cool leather all over. Up along the neck, thick and masculine with a prominent Adam's Apple.

And then, her mouth fell open.

Michaelangelo's jawline was deformed: twice as wide as a normal human beings, he had an odd chin and lips which barely seemed discernable from the rest of the mouth set further back under a huge, bulbous snout.

He wasn't human!

===============

"Aiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee!"

Leonardo almost dropped the katana from his nerveless grip as the cries echoed through the subway tunnels. The high-pitched scream resounding with terror was distinctly feminine!

His first thought as dread seized his guts and knotted them up was Madeline. A woman didn't scream like that unless she was terrified. A million scenarios flew through his head as the ninja readjusted his grip on the sword with a flick of the wrist and slammed the weapon back into its sheath. Everything from her attacker somehow following them back here to stubbing her toe on a piece of furniture played themselves out in his brain as he took off running for the main platform.

Without even thinking about it, he found himself calling out: "Hold on, Maddy! I'm coming!"

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Oh no! Will Leonardo get there in time to save our damsel in distress from the big bad 'monster'? What 'monster', you ask? Well read the next chapter to find out! -QA