She slipped away from the Turtles at just after eight-thirty, wrapping herself in a thick coat and slinging a heavy messenger bag over her shoulder. The elevator deposited her in the dilapidated warehouse that the Turtles used as the Battle Shell's garage, and she leaned against the armored car as she waited for Don to arrive. Her heart was racing, and her stomach was fluttering so hard that she found herself wondering if her baby was kicking her.

She had to be crazy. Despite her talk with Casey, April couldn't stop herself from remembering that she was here for a romantic encounter with a seventeen-year-old. Then again, she reflected, she was already pregnant by the seventeen-year-old, so how much worse could it get? Don wasn't a normal teenage in every way that mattered, and his feelings for her were much more than a boyish crush.

Still, she couldn't back down now. She had already done everything but make love to Don, and on the brink of doing that, she found that she wanted this as much as he did. Her nerves were just that — nerves, she told herself sternly. She had already gone past these concerns when she had ordered him to kiss her.

The other three Turtles had been odd with her all afternoon — Mikey had been teasing, only to be shut down by Raph, and Leo had made an effort to be friendly. But April could just imagine them lurking near the TVs, hearing the sound of their brother gasping and wordlessly moaning, growing more embarrassed and terrified with every passing moment. No wonder Leo had grown flustered enough to drop a sword. She was probably lucky that they hadn't misinterpreted the sounds they heard and assumed that Donnie was having a heart attack.

Her heart jumped as the elevator rose through the floor, a massive aqua egg-shaped vehicle that glimmered with strange light. When the doors parted, Don stepped out, his face solemn and clear-eyed, looking straight at her as if nothing else existed. In the faint light of the elevator's crystals, he looked like a jade statue come to life.

"Let's go," she said quietly, moving to the passenger side of the Battle Shell.

Don buckled himself in behind the wheel, and looked toward her. "So where are we going?"

"My apartment."

He stiffened, his fingers grasping the wheel. "Is that a good idea?" he said slowly.

"It's the only place we can have some privacy," April said. "Besides, the ones who attacked us there are gone, Don. We'll be safe."

She saw the unease in his eyes, intense enough that they glittered in the faint light. But desire seemed to win out over fear, and he started the engine, opened the warehouse's door, and drove out into the cold night. Icy stars glowed above them, and the nearly-full moon hung low overhead like a paper lantern hung from the night sky. It was a beautiful night, and the emptiness of the streets made it feel like it had been made for just the two of them.

Silence had settled between them, and for some reason that bothered April. Tonight she didn't want any distance between herself and Donnie — she wanted to hear his voice even when he was focusing on something other than her. So she shifted in the seat beside him, resting a hand on his arm.

"Don, doesn't it ever bother you that you and your brothers don't have much privacy? I mean, you have your separate rooms, but they don't have doors, and almost every other part of the lair is shared between the five of you."

"I'm used to it," Don said with a slight smile. "Growing up, we all lived in one large room together, so we never had much privacy. Having my own room is the most I've ever had. We used to sleep on two sets of bunk beds — I always slept next to Raph and under Mikey." He glanced over at her. "But I guess I need some more privacy now, for — for this."

April smiled at him. One of his hands dropped from the wheel and slipped easily around her smaller one, as if reassuring himself that she was still there even when his eyes were on the road. She was glad for the touch — it settled her fluttering stomach, and her anxieties about what she was doing seemed to melt away. If she had been sitting closer to him, she would have rested her head on his shoulder, breathed in his scent.

The Battle Shell slowed as they approached the 2nd Time Around store, and April felt Don's hand spasm slightly at the sight of it. It made sense, she thought — he had only been out of the lair once in the last three months, and this place held bad memories for him. She lightly stroked his fingers with her own as they turned into the alley, then reluctantly separated their hands as she stepped out and fumbled with her keys.

The store was almost pitch-black, but April was able to navigate her way to the staircase, and she could hear Don moving just behind her. When her foot caught on one of the steps, she felt his arm move around her waist to steady her.

She had been in the apartment almost every day she worked, mostly for her lunch break. But Don hadn't been back since their abduction, and she could feel the tension radiating from him as they moved up into her living room. He paused in the middle of the room, looking slowly around — at the windows that had been broken, at the stairs he had been dragged down. His face was devoid of expression, but April could see his hesitance shining in his eyes.

She turned back toward him and took his hands. "It's okay," she said softly. "We'll be fine. Come with me."

She moved back towards her bedroom door, pulling him toward it. The room was dark, except for a pool of moonlight streaming from the window, but April felt her heart quickening as she saw the shape of her bed against the wall. Thank God she had put fresh sheets on it a few weeks ago, and hadn't slept there in even longer. And suddenly her mind was full of what was to come — Don's flesh, his hands clutching her close, his voice uttering breathless, wordless exclamations…

With slightly trembling hands, she reached into her bag and pulled out some pillar candles that Splinter had lent her — thankfully without asking why she wanted them. A scratch of the match, and a flame lit the room with a dancing, flickering light that whispered of witchery. She quickly lit the wicks, and looked around at the faint, golden light that now suffused her bedroom.

She wanted this to be special — for Don. He deserved nothing less after everything that had happened to him.

He was still standing nervously behind her, his hands clasped in front of him as he watched her almost ritualistic preparations. When April turned around, she took his hands again and drew him down onto the edge of her bed.

"Lie down," she said softly.

Don did as she said, moving back onto his carapace and watching her with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. April slid her fingers under the bend of his knee, and began carefully untying the leather strings that held his kneepad in place. When one slipped loose from his leg, she moved to the other and painstakingly repeated the action, keeping her eyes fixed on his the entire time. Every touch of his skin, every flicker of expression made her heart throb, and she could see that Don felt the same way.

After drawing off the kneepads, she slid her fingers up his thighs, caressing the strong muscles there, before moving up his sides. Don seemed to know what she was going to do next, and raised his arms slightly so she could untie the elbow pads. She smiled as she untied the knots there, and pulled the pads down over his hands. Then she began unwrapping the bindings that he wore on his wrists, until his arms were completely bare.

But she wasn't finished. She leaned down and breathed softly on Don's exposed wrists, before touching her lips to the thin skin there. She heard him draw in a breath.

Next, she moved back down to his belt, knotted snugly around his lower abdomen. He lay still as she worked with the knot, but raised himself slightly as she finished, allowing her to slip it out from under him. She lowered her head again towards his belly, letting her lips linger on the scutes there, and the thin lines that separated them. She felt his abdomen rising and falling more quickly as she ran a line of kisses up towards his chest, pressing her hands against him to keep him still.

Finally, April reached behind his head, and unknotted the mask that she had only rarely seen him without. Tonight, she wanted to see his eyes, unencumbered by the mask. Tonight, she didn't want the ninja in her bed, but Don himself, free of everything that else weighed on him.

He remained still as she pulled it from his face, and let it slip to the floor beside his belt and his pads. His eyes were as bright as stars, apparently enjoying this slow, sensual attention.

Now it was her own turn. April rose from the bed, and let her coat slide to the floor. Slowly, deliberately, she pulled the turtleneck over her head, and felt cool air seeping over her breasts and slightly curving stomach. Don made a faint sound at the sight, but was silent by the time she had removed the shirt. He was staring intently at her, his eyes unblinking, as if trying to memorize every detail of her body.

But as she slithered out of her pants, working them down her legs, April saw a flicker of pain cross his face. "What's wrong?" she said.

"Sorry, I just — you looked like you did — the other time," he said.

April sat down beside him, the candlelight dancing over her pale skin. "This isn't going to be like the last time," she said soothingly. "This time, no one is making us do anything." Her forehead crinkled. "If anything I do reminds you of — of what happened before, tell me and I'll stop. I don't want this to bring back bad memories for you, Donnie. This time, we both want it, and—" She caressed his cheek. "—and we have all night."

His hands slithered up her bare back, warm and solid, and pulled her close enough for a kiss — slow and intimate, but growing more heated with every passing second. April slid down on top of him, the chill in the room forgotten as Don warmed her, stoking a fire inside her with every movement and touch. How could she have tried to turn away from this? she thought feverishly. All thought of his age, his

But then suddenly he drew back, looking slightly alarmed. "This won't hurt the baby, will it?"

"Of course not," April said, sliding her arm around the back of his neck to draw him closer. "The baby will be just fine. It probably won't even notice."

"And… April, I — I have to tell you something," he said. Even in the dim light, he looked embarrassed.

"Mmm?" April said, nuzzling the side of his neck.

"I'm — I'm different from human males."

"I've noticed," April said, smiling.

"I mean, my genitalia are different, and I don't want you to be—"

"How are they different?" April asked.

Don looked unnerved. "Size — color — shape —" he said slowly.

April sighed, and rested her head beside his on the pillow. "Don, we're compatible enough to conceive a baby," she said softly. "We were sexually intimate before — there's no reason for any of those things to bother me now."

"I just didn't want you to be alarmed…"

Her lips clung to his like dew on a leaf. When they stopped for breath, she smiled softly at him and pressed a hand to his cheek. "I won't be. Just do what comes naturally, and I promise I'll tell you if anything doesn't feel quite right." She gently stroked a thumb along his cheek, losing herself in the dark pools of his eyes. "I want you to make love to me, Don. Please. I've already wasted so much time, and I don't want to wait any longer."

Don didn't need any more urging. His muscled arms folded around her, holding her snugly to his plastron. At the same time, April felt him shifting onto his side, gently pressing her into the bed as he ran his lips along her jawline. When he was finished, April was lying on her back, with him poised above her, his eyes wide and full of moonlight. She could have watched his face forever; she raised a hand to touch it, wanting to draw him down toward her.

And then they were together, and nothing else mattered.