When Don opened his eyes, the moonlight had faded from April's bedroom window. A pale glow was emanating behind the city skyline, blotting out the stars as it became brighter. The sun was going to rise soon, and the previous night would be nothing more than a memory.

Don looked at April, who was still nestled in his arms, her hand resting against his plastron and her head on the pillow beside his. She had fallen asleep just after they finished making love, too worn out by the long night they had shared to stay awake any longer. And Don had held her as she slept, listening to the sound of her breathing and feeling the gentle thump of her heartbeat, his hands keeping her close to him as she dreamed.

His heart felt like it was overflowing. She had said it. She had told him that she loved him the night before, more than once — which had been something that he had always wanted to hear from her, but he had never actually thought she would say it. At least, not in the way he wanted — over the last few years, Don had reluctantly contemplated that she might say that she loved him like a brother, or as a very close friend. Not as a lover.

But she had said it. Twice. "I love you."

And she had shown him that love, rather than simply saying it with words. It had been her idea to sneak away from the lair and hide themselves in her apartment, far from the eyes and ears of Splinter and his brothers. She had led him to her bed, divested him of his gear, and made a show of undressing herself. And she had welcomed him into her body, asking him to make love to her as quickly as possible. He would never forget the look in her green eyes as she had asked that.

And April was so, so beautiful. She had lain on the bed before him like some forgotten Celtic goddess, her alabaster skin dewy with sweat, her breasts heaving, her red hair spread across the pillow like tongues of flame.

Don looked at her sleeping face, and gently pulled her closer to him, making sure not to wake her. He didn't want the night to end. When it ended, he and April would have to wake up, rise from this bed, and… and…

And what?

He wasn't entirely sure what the protocol was for this kind of situation; his only knowledge of romantic relationships came from television, and they weren't always reflective of the truth. Did this mean that they were in a relationship now? April hadn't made that clear the night before, when she had brought him here — she had said that she wanted him, that she loved him, but not what her plans were for… afterwards.

And there was something else — a fear percolating in his mind, despite the fresh memories of April whispering that she loved him. That after last night, even after expressing her feelings for him, April would gravitate back to Casey Jones. No matter how much Don loved her, or believed she loved him, he knew that he was still the less wise choice — a sewer-dwelling mutant who couldn't offer her a future or a life out in the light of day. Even with a child together, he could offer her only his love.

Still, she had said she loved him, and she had spent the entire night in his arms. And he was grateful — even if she did leave him for Casey, she had given him this one perfect, exquisite night to remember all his life. One night in which his wildest dreams had come true.

He lay in silence for a long time, listening to April's breathing and treasuring every moment he held her, touched her, cradled her against his heart. Her delicate features, her porcelain skin, her soft red hair, the curves of her slender body outlined in the golden morning sun. As far as he was concerned, she was perfect. Or as close to perfect as someone could be.

Just then, she nestled closer to him, murmuring something incoherent and clutching at his plastron. Don raised a hand to her cheek and stroked it, until her eyelids fluttered open.

"Don?" she whispered.

"Good morning," he said, smiling.

Her eyes were wide and full of light as she reached for him, and pulled him into a long intoxicating kiss. Then she snuggled down beside him, resting her hand against his chest.

"Did you get any sleep?" she murmured.

"Not much," Don replied. He hadn't been able to bring himself to sleep, and not just because he didn't want to miss a moment with April. It was because of a fear gnawing in the back of his mind — fear that he would have one of his nightmares, tainting the entire beautiful night. The last thing he needed was to think about Racer and what he had done.

He especially didn't want to think about Racer because the last night with April had been the complete opposite in every way. Racer's rape had left him feeling broken, torn apart, raw — something had been taken from him that he still didn't know if he would ever regain. It had been about power, about pain, about loss.

But the night before had been all about giving. April had given him love, tenderness and physical pleasure so intense it had nearly been painful, and he had tried to give her the same in return. For the first time in months, he had been happy without reservation or memory of what had been done to him, all because of her. He felt almost as though some part of him had been healed by her touch, as if she had removed a contamination from his body.

April seemed to sense his thoughts, because she pressed her lips to Don's cheek. "I wish last night had been your first time, Donnie," she said softly.

"It was, in the ways that mattered," he whispered.

A faint smile came to her lips at hearing that, and he felt her arms slip around his shoulders to draw them closer together. His own arms pulled her close, until her head was resting against his shoulder and her legs were tangled around his. He closed his eyes and turned towards her, enjoying the closeness, the warmth of her presence, the touch of her hand, her lips. It was an intimacy he had never experienced with anyone else. It was almost like the feeling he had had when he and April were alone in his lab late at night, finishing each other's sentences and attuned to each other's thoughts. Only this was stronger — much stronger — and he craved more of it.

A part of him wanted to stay in this bed all day, and let the world take care of itself while he stayed close to April, reminding her how he loved her. He knew that he couldn't — he had to contact Leatherhead, and he needed to let his brothers know that he was all right. But for now, he just wanted to immerse himself in April.

"April," he said softly.

"Yes?"

"Was I — any good?"

"You were great," April said softly, draping her arm across his plastron, gently stroking her fingers over his side. "I don't have a lot of experience, but I thought you were amazing."

Don wasn't capable of blushing the way a human was — especially one with the pale translucent skin April had — but if he were, he suspected he would have done just that. It was a relief to know that he had pleased her, that his efforts to return everything she had given him hadn't been in vain. He raised one of his hands to link his fingers with her softer, smaller ones, and pressed them to the spot where he knew his heart beat.

"We should probably get back to the lair soon," April murmured, nestling against his chest. "The others will start worrying if we take much longer."

"In a minute," Don said, wanting this peaceful little idyll to last just a little longer. He still wanted the intimacy that he had felt with her, the connection — and some part of him felt that when the spell was broken, he would have lost that.

"In a minute," April said, just before she captured his lips in another kiss.