Alrighty chapter 4 is up and ready to go! Just a warning mild (Very mild) adult content and mutant turtle biology theory, as well as actual turtle biology. Please read and reveiw!=)
Chapter 4
Katherine closed her eyes and let Michelangelo and Raphael's conversation drift over her. She couldn't seem to get comfortable, and knew it had nothing to do with the couch and more just to do with the fact she had been stabbed. It had only been a day, but she was getting annoyed at the slow pace of her recovery.
"Are you okay?" Michelangelo asked her.
She opened an eye. "As good as I can be I suppose." She closed her eye again. "Thank you." She said politely. They really were sweet, not counting the whole stabbing incident in the first place. She opened the little box in her head and examined the absolute panic that had threatened to overwhelm her a couple days ago. She poked it and prodded the feeling. It was not really relevant anymore. Now that she understood the situation she currently found herself in, not only was the panic useless and not very helpful, she also had had no need of it in the first place. The little ball of panic vanished.
She supposed she should feel a little more weirded out by the fact that she was surrounded by mutant turtles, but if she was honest with herself it didn't really bother her all that much. The idea rather fascinated her. She had always wondered what the world would have been like if there had been another race of something, that had evolved with humans, and would have had to interact with them on an even level. Much like early how early man and Neanderthals were contemporary with each other, possibly trading, maybe even mating with each other.
Of course it wasn't as if the turtles were a whole species, there was just the four of them, but the premise was the same. Much like fantasy worlds where humans interacted with Elves and Dwarves and other creatures.
It had only been just over a day where she had been fully aware of what was going on, but the overall impression she had of the four brothers was that they were friendly, caring, open and hospitable. She was still sorting out their personalities, but Donatello seemed quiet, shy and had a keen mind; Leonardo was reserved and appeared calm but something told her that his outward appearance of calm collectedness hid a much deeper more turbulent side to his personality; Michelangelo was fun loving, playful and sweet; and Raphael, she would describe him as overly passionate about everything. She wasn't sure if it was just because Michelangelo was getting under his skin, or if it was because he was injured, but either way, anger seemed to simmer constantly just under the surface.
She settled herself deeper into the couch trying to get more comfortable. She listened to the two brothers argue and gave a smile. She gave her head a mental shake, blocked them out and went to sleep.
"What are you doing?" Donatello asked Katherine who was at the moment leaning over her bag. This would be fine if she were not fully dressed and wearing Leonardo's trench coat.
She stood up slowly and painfully. It had been a week and Donatello had learned that Katherine was smart, funny, easygoing, and had a stubborn streak a mile wide.
It was bad enough he had to deal with Raphael who had been getting moodier and moodier as the days wore on, but he also had to deal with Katherine, who was a good patient in general, but had insisted she was well enough to leave, on numerous occasions.
Donatello could have possibly taken this to mean she wanted to get as far away from them as possible. He knew having four mutated turtles suddenly thrown into her existence had to have been shocking and possibly a little overwhelming, but she seemed to have no problem with this at all. She accepted it and that was it. It was a little unnerving having someone else who tended to look at the world a little more logically. He was used to having to deal with his brothers who were often irrational and overly emotional. Leonardo tended to have a tight rein on his emotions, but he tended to act upon them anyway, whether he knew it or not. She seemed to approach situations more like he did. Analyze the situation, look for any possible solutions if needed otherwise categorize them and file them away.
This of course did not mean she was totally unemotional. She wasn't. He had seen anger and frustration flash in her eyes, but she tended not to act upon whatever negative emotion she was feeling at the moment. But with the way Raphael was acting, he knew it was going to be a short matter of time before she ripped a strip off him.
She was also prone to be completely irrational when confronted with her own body's need to heal.
"I can't just lay around here, I have things that I need to do." She grumbled.
"And just how do you suppose you are going to get anything done when you can barely stand. You're as bad as Raph." He pointed out to her. She glared at him but acknowledged the hit. "I know you are here to deal with your Uncle's house, but it can wait. You are a smart woman, I don't understand why you are trying so hard to..." Her phone began vibrating on his worktable.
Her shoulders slumped. She grimly grabbed the phone and answered it. "Hey daddy." She said with false cheer. "Yes I'm fine." She paused and listened. "No I haven't..." She winced.
Donatello gently took the phone from her surprised grasp. She wasn't going to get better if she was constantly worried that her father was going to be disappointed and frustrated with her. "Hello Mr. Brooks?"
"Who is this?"Asked her father's voice.
"This is Don." He said shortening his name, making it sound a little more mature. "I realize you must be anxious and worried about your daughter, but the thing is that she is very ill. She can barley even stand at the moment she is so sick, but she is very insistent on getting to her Uncle's house. Maybe you could convince her just rest and get better before she has to deal with her Uncle's estate."
"How sick is she, has she seen a doctor?" He asked in worry.
"She is being very well looked after, doctors orders are for her to rest and get better before doing anything too strenuous. I've already looked into finding a lawyer for her, as she is going to need to get information on the taxes she is going to need to pay and other legal issues that are sure to arise." Donatello said smoothly.
There was a thoughtful pause on the other end of the line. "Tell my daughter to rest until the doctor says she is well enough. Also thank you for looking into the legal aspects of the Will for her. If she had inherited the house in Canada it would have been different, but I'm not very familiar with the legal issues that could arise in the U.S."
"I will and it is my pleasure." He said as he hung up the phone. Now perhaps she wouldn't be as in a rush to get the situation with her Uncle's house dealt with, he thought as he handed her back her phone.
She looked at him in shock then gripped the phone angrily. Her reaction surprised him until he realized what he had done. Sure he had placated her father so he would no longer be breathing down her neck to get everything done and get home, but by throwing in the comment about the lawyer, he had effectively made it seem like he didn't think she could handle the situation any more than her father thought she could.
She took a deep breath in as he readied himself to have a strip torn off him. Instead she blew out her breath and nodded to him.
"Thank you." She said tersely.
"No I, I didn't mean for it to sound like I didn't think you could handle the lawyer situation." He said oddly reluctant to have her angry at him.
She looked at him with her penetrating green gaze. "I know." She said as she looked at her phone. She looked back up at him and handed her phone to him. He looked at it in confusion. He had never seen anyone so absolutely and completely in control of their emotions before. She should still be angry, but she wasn't. Instead a mischievous smiled played upon soft pink lips.
"But I supposed since you offered, you'd better get on it, doctor." She said in a low seductive voice that seemed to bypass his ears completely and strike him right in the groin. She turned and walked from the room.
He walked out of his workroom to make sure she was really going to just settle down on the couch. She could be incredibly hard to read at times. She walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later dressed in her 'jammies'. The word jammies brought to mind flannel PJ's with cute bunnies or kittens scattered all over. Her 'jammies' were just too damn revealing. The skin tight short shirt revealed every line and swell of her breasts, the pants hung way too low on curved swaying hips. Donatello closed his eyes against the image and retreated back to his workroom.
It had been two weeks since Donatello had talked with Katherine and convinced her to relax and heal And in that two weeks his life had been turned upside down. He had learned that Katherine was smart, funny, nice, sweet, and he found himself talking to her for hours. Donatello looked at his hands that had stopped their task of imputing information into the computer.
A woman was staying with them. It should have been disastrous, it should have been chaos in its purest form. There should have been nagging, there should have been feminine crap cluttering up the counter space in the bathroom. There should have been fights over the use of the bathroom since there were five people now needing to use it. But somehow it wasn't chaotic at all. There was shampoo and conditioner in the shower and that was it. No nagging, no spending hours in the bathroom either. She just didn't seem to care about her appearance at all. No makeup, no hair products, nothing.
She had only been here for two weeks and yet somehow it felt as if she had always been in their lives. She had somehow managed to insert herself right in the middle of their family and he wasn't sure how. No. He knew how, he just couldn't believe it. It shouldn't have been this easy. You shouldn't have someone literally dropped in your lap and have her be so easy to be around.
But today had really struck something within him. Katherine had just walked out from the shower. They hadn't done laundry yet so she had run out of clothes. She had borrowed a pair of Leonardo's sweat pants and a shirt. Her hair was dripping wet leaving trails of water down the grey shirt material. She had rolled the sweats up at the waist so they wouldn't fall off, but if it were even possible they hung even lower on her hips. She was in the process of tying Leonardo's shirt up as she walked to the couch.
Raphael who had been in the middle of yelling at Michelangelo, stopped mid yell and stared, completely forgetting what he had been yelling about.
Raphael blinked seemed to remember himself and turned his angry gaze back to Michelangelo. She stood in front of the couch looking down at the two fighting brothers. She looked up and caught Donatello's gaze. She looked at him accusingly as if blaming him for her having put up with a raging Raphael. Raphael had been in a frustrated rage for the last few days. He was lashing out at everyone and anyone, including on the very rare occasion Katherine, who in general, tended to ignore Raphael's bad temper.
You expect me to sit in the middle of this? She asked him silently.
Sorry He apologized to her.
You are so going to owe me for this. She answered back.
He'll be better when he isn't in so much pain. She looked back at him dubiously an eyebrow lifting in question.
Okay, mostly better He silently acknowledged
She gave a wry smile of understanding.
"Raphael, American football sucks." She said, hands on her hips, a challenge in her eyes.
Raphael was so caught off guard by what she had said, that his mind looked like he had a hard time processing the sudden attack.
"What did you just say?" Raphael growled.
"You heard me. American football blows." She said with absolute seriousness, but from where Donatello was standing, he could see the devil of mischief playing in her eyes. Donatello frowned in confusion as he tried to figure out what she was doing. Why was she trying to get Raphael so worked up?
Raphael stood up menacingly his blazing brown eyes looking angrily down into hers. Katherine didn't back down. She wasn't much shorter than they were, but they outweighed her by a good 80 lbs. They were all built, but Raphael was by far the larger of all of the brothers. She should have been intimidated, hell he was intimidated by Raphael's wrath at times, only because when Raphael hit his all consuming rage, all he could see was red and any reason he possessed flew out the window.
Michelangelo had slowly stood, a worried expression on his face.
"Canadian football is better." She said to him crossing her arms in defiance.
Raphael's eyes studied her. "You think so huh?" He said to her his anger slowly ebbing to confront the challenge her words provoked.
"Absolutely. Your players are so wimpy they needed to make the playing field smaller to accommodate them."
Raphael's eyes narrowed. "What does Canada have, like two teams?"
Her eyes narrowed in return. "Eight."
"Oooo, eight whole teams." He teased.
"What we don't have in quantity we make up for in quality." She taunted.
"Fine I'll show you what a real game of football looks like." He said sitting back down on the couch pulling her gently down with him. A strange looked crossed Raphael's face as he looked at her.
After listening to Raphael and Katherine talk football for a bit he had returned to his workroom. It wasn't until a few moments later he realized he had had an entire conversation with her without even speaking. He had only ever been able to do such a thing with his brothers and even then it was usually only short orders of what to do when they were fighting. He had sat down hard on his chair in shock.
He closed his eyes in remembrance and leaned back in his chair. She was ruining his concentration and she wasn't even in the room.
"Donatello?" He voice came from over his right shoulder. He nearly fell off his chair.
"Are you busy?" She asked.
He turned around and looked at her. She was still wearing Leonardo's sweats, rolled up at the waist so they hung low on her hips as well as one of Raphael's hoodies. She should have looked ridiculous, instead he had never seen anyone so beautiful and unconsciously sexy in his life.
"No." He managed to answer.
"Sorry I didn't mean to scare you." She said stepping near him. Her flowery scent washed over him.
"I was just working on this computer program, but I'm not making any progress, I was thinking of shutting it down for the night anyway." He said switching off the computer screen. "I thought you were watching a movie with Raph, and Mikey?" He asked.
She smiled. "A few hours ago. Everyone else is in bed. I couldn't sleep and I saw the light still on so I thought I would ask you something."
"Sure what's up?" He asked curious. "Hop up on my table, I might as well check on how you are healing." He said to her motioning for her to sit. He helped her up and just touching her hand sent a flash of heat and need through him. He tried to get himself firmly under control. It was best she left before any of them got any more attached to her than they already had. But he knew it had only been two weeks and there was really no way she would be able to be on her own yet.
She lifted her shirt and he began unwrapping her bandages, painfully ignoring the bottom curve of the breast she had unknowingly exposed.
"Lay down." He said to her. She lay on the table shirt pulled up, hair pooled around her in a cloud of silken tresses. He felt himself harden at the sight of her. He clenched his teeth together and probed her wound. "As far as I can tell it looks like it's healing well, but you are still going to have to take it easy." He said through overly dry lips. He turned away from her hoping to get himself under some sort of control.
"So were you really able to call forward that memory just by sound and smell?" He asked suddenly hoping to get her talking about something, anything, so he would be able to recover himself.
He looked back at her hoping that she would have slid from his table, but instead she was still laying on the table, staring abstractedly at the ceiling. "Yes." She said slowly. "It is funny, we as humans tend not to use our other senses very much, or rather we don't think we do, but we use them more than we think. A certain smell can be associated with a certain person, or a memory, like apple pie at grandma's house at Christmas. Even a sound can elicit a certain memory or feeling, like the sound of a boat horn reminding one of a trip to the ocean. Being aware with all of your senses gives a much more comprehensive and balanced perspective of your immediate world." She paused in thought and Donatello wondered if this was how his brothers saw him. Slightly abstracted, trying to explain something that they may or may not understand.
"We're all animals. We like to think that we are above all of those pesky urges and instincts and chemicals in the brain telling us what to do, but we really aren't. Did you know that women use smell to pick their mates just as much as any other feature, even if they don't realize it."
He blinked in shock as he found himself spellbound by her. He shook his head trying to free himself from her spell. But that was the problem. When she talked he listened. There was just something about the way she moved, the inflection in her voice that had even made her explaining the difference between Canadian and American football sound interesting. It shouldn't have been, he didn't care about football of any kind, and yet watching her poke fun at Raphael and excitedly talk about the differences had fascinated him.
Somehow he had ended up back at the table reaching out to help her sit up. "So, do I smell good?" He asked huskily and wondered where the question had come from. Was he actually flirting with her? He questioned himself. He didn't flirt, he didn't even know how to flirt, yet here he was...flirting. He blushed as he tried to step away. But she grabbed him and leaned in close.
"Musky and earthy." She said closing her eyes.
"Not grease, burnt metal and chemicals?" He managed to say through a throat that was suddenly too tight.
She laughed and the laughter washed over him. "That is what you smell like when you are 'working' Donatello." She whispered his name sounding like honey on her lips. "But your actual smell is, like I said, musky and earthy. So yes, you smell good."
She slid off the table and he backed up blushing and looking for a way to change the subject. "You said you had something to ask me?" He asked as he began bandaging up her stomach again.
She blinked and looked away. "Right um...I don't really know how to ask this without it sounding really bad, but I was wondering if I could maybe...look at, and touch you?" He looked at her in shock. "Wow that came out worse than it sounded in my head. I don't want to poke at you like a science experiment or anything, but I am curious. I have been trying to figure out your skeletal structure as well as your basic biology, but I am a very tactile person so I like to touch things when I think, and I am making a mess of this so I think maybe I'll just go crash on the couch for the night." She said trying to slide past him out the door.
He managed to grab onto her arm. He should be insulted, and angry at her for wanting to basically treat him like a science experiment, yet somehow he wasn't. He could appreciate her curiosity. "Sure." He said.
"Really?" She asked looking at him dubiously.
He shrugged. "Why not, it isn't something I have ever really thought about. I usually only have to think about it regarding the stitching up and treating of my brother's various injuries."
Her smile lit the room. "Thank you."
"But why didn't you ask Mikey or Raph, I'm sure they would have been more than happy to play guinea pig?"
"Because I need to bounce thoughts off of a sounding board and what do you think they would say if I said, that in order for you to be bipedal your foramen magnum would have had to move to the bottom you your skull." She said with a quirk of her lips.
Donatello nodded. "Point." He acknowledged.
"Can you take your shirt off?" She asked him. He paused for a moment then took his shirt off. "I've been thinking." she said "For your body to have become the way it is, it would have required a huge number of biological changes. The skull thing aside, I was thinking that you would have had to get a spine."
"A spine?" He asked as she traced the skin that connected his shell to his body. "Turtles don't really have a spine , it is more thier shell acting like thier spine, but your hips have shifted so you can walk erect." She said as she placed her hands on his hips pulling them slightly towards her.
He closed his eyes at her choice of words. Him standing upright was not the only thing erect at the moment. "So it is my theory that your spine has to be like a human spine, which means that your shell is really just empty of anything but flesh. After all, if your spine has moved forward then that means all of your internal organs have shifted around as well. Your body structure seems more human than turtle so I think this would be a valid theory. Your carapace ends at your waist so you are able to wear pants. Do you have a tail?" She asked him curiously.
He shook his head no. She frowned slightly as if she was thinking about something. She was still holding onto his hips. "Where does your plastron end?" She asked her fingers abstractly fingering the edge of his jeans.
"Basically right there." He said in a strained voice. Didn't she realize what she was doing to him? He wondered. But how would she know that he was attracted to her? He wasn't human after all. Somehow this thought made him a little angry. He wondered how he could make her see him as something more than just a mutant turtle.
Her hands moved up to trace down the planes of his plastron. "So if all of your internal organs are placed like those of a human, and you don't have a tail, then I would think..." Her finger stopped at the top of his jeans where she paused in thought her mind obviously working furiously. "You would be..." She blinked and looked at him in shock. A blush bloomed over her cheeks as she looked at where her fingers were. She took her fingers back as if she had been burned.
"More human than turtle in that regard." He said, hands wrapping around her upper arms. He looked down at her and he had no idea what she saw in his eyes, but her lips parted slightly and her eyes dilated. "You should go to bed." He found himself saying.
She licked her lips and smiled. "I should. Thank you Donatello."
She walked to the door. "Goodnight." She said softly from the doorway.
"Goodnight Katherine." He said to her retreating back. He sat down in his chair and put his head on his computer desk. What the hell was he doing? She was making him act insane. What was he trying to accomplish by letting her know that they were physically compatible? He asked himself. The little voice in his head answered that he had wanted her to know, needed her to know. But why? She was going to leave soon anyway. It would accomplish nothing.
So why did the thought of her leaving hurt his heart so much? He lifted his head and blinked at his powered off computer monitor. No. He thought to himself. There was no way, it was impossible. She had only been here for two weeks, slightly over two weeks if you counted when she had been unconscious. He turned his computer monitor on. He stared at the screen for a few seconds as he gathered up his courage. He opened his internet search engine and typed in one word. Love.