Title: Trust and Betrayal
Summary: Continuation from 'Destinations'.
Authors Notes: This fic is like a soap opera. It just goes on and on. This picks up 3 months after Destinations. For those who wanted more Raphael when I wrote the other books, this is the story for you. Enormous thanks to Jaxink for the beta read and edit.
Chapter 2:
"Trust not too much to appearances."
Virgil
Don stepped into the private club and glanced around curiously at his surroundings. The building was old with wood paneled walls and likely expensive carpets on the floor. Paintings of the English countryside decorated the dim interior. He had been puzzled by the note that was waiting on his front step this morning. It had asked him to come to this club at 1 p.m. to meet with an old friend. No signature. Don had tucked a few shuriken into his jacket, just in case. He could hardly wander around London with a bo staff without generating comment.
"Dr. Hamato?" Don turned toward the speaker, clearly a host for the club by his clothes and discreet nametag. "You are expected. This way, please." Don cautiously followed the host down a hallway, and then the man opened a door and waved to Don to enter. Don stepped to the doorway, and peered in. When he saw the lone occupant he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.
"Hello," Don greeted, stepping over the threshold.
"Donatello," the Utrom responded, gliding forward on a floating platform. "I am grateful you have come to this meeting."
"Yes, well, had I known who I was meeting with I would have been less reticent," Don stated.
"I apologize for the secrecy, but I am afraid it was needed. Please, be seated Donatello." The Utrom waved to the table. Don pulled out a chair and sat down. The Utrom hovered across the table. "I hope you do not object. I took the liberty of ordering the meal. We have some time to speak before it arrives." Don nodded, and rested his arms on the table, toying with the linen napkin. "It is critical that we speak openly, Donatello. How far have you progressed on the Transmat replica?"
Don glanced up, shocked at the question. He had been under the impression his work was well hidden from the Utrom.
"Please, Donatello. The Utrom must know," his host insisted. The Utrom had been allies in the past, and Don had felt uncomfortable copying their technology for the British government. He had only been informed after taking the job, and completing the move, that his first project was to build a Transmat.
"Construction hasn't started yet," Don confessed slowly. "My formulas are nearly complete," Don added. The Utrom nodded, looking deeply concerned. "Is there a problem? With creating the technology?" Don asked.
The Utrom sighed. "It is not in the technology, but how it will be used. The Utrom have long had the Transmat devices, but the Utrom also carefully govern how the Transmat is used. The Utrom are concerned that the Earth is not ready to control such advanced technology."
Don nodded. He had similar thoughts, but when he asked about how the Transmat would be used he had been told not to worry about it, or that it would be used for transportation only. Don knew he was being told what he wanted to hear, but he had hoped, perhaps vainly, that he would have some influence over the direction the project took.
"Donatello, the Utrom believe the Transmat technology too dangerous to allow the Earth to control," the Utrom warned. Don raised his eye ridges. That sounded like a threat.
"Even if I stop," Don responded carefully, toying with his silverware. "Someone else could pick up where I left off."
The Utrom nodded. "The Utrom know this, Donatello. The Utrom offer for you to cease your work from our long friendship with the Earth Terrapins." Don understood the message left unstated; the Utrom would stop the work if he didn't, and he might not like their methods.
A sharp rap on the door interrupted their conversation. A waiter entered carrying a tray of food, and proceeded to place the dishes on the table. Don found his appetite had fled.
222
Flipping the page on her e-reader, Samantha Hamato perused her book. It wasn't a great story. She just didn't buy all this nonsense about women falling in love with vampires. A squeal of delight brought her attention away from the book, and she looked at her son in his stroller. He was waving his little arms at her. Sam felt that goofy smile break out on her face. It was the one she wore a lot these days. Sam set down the e-reader on the bench beside where she was sitting and reached out for her baby boy. She unbuckled him from his seat, and picked him up from the stroller.
"Hey there, big guy," she cooed, setting him on her lap, the ridge of his shell digging into her thigh. He made a grab for her hand, and when she let him catch it he brought it to his mouth. Sam let her son gnaw on her finger. He was just starting to get teeth, and apparently she made a good soother for his gums.
Sam looked around at the park, at the other parents and nannies pushing strollers, sitting on benches, and watching children playing on the playground. If anyone who had known her before in New York saw her now, they probably wouldn't have recognized her. She was still a red head, and she still had a temper, but motherhood had mellowed her considerably. When she and Don had first moved to London, Sam had been anxious to have the baby and get a job. Three months of stay at home parenting and Sam found herself content. She missed the excitement of law enforcement, of course, but she didn't think she would trade these moments for anything in the world.
The old Samantha Gallagher wouldn't have been accepting of the role of mother and domestic goddess, Sam thought ruefully. Once she had been focused on her career and getting ahead. There was nothing wrong with that, but it had ruled her to the exclusion of anything else. She had spent years away from Don, fighting her way up in the police department. Sometimes she regretted those years, but it had given her time to grow up.
"Hey, Sean, ready to go home?" Sam asked her son as he drooled on her hand. He was named after her grandfather. Sean gifted her with a toothless smile, which Sam readily returned. "Let's go see if we can make some dinner for your dad," Sam suggested, settling her son into his stroller again. Her cooking might not have improved much, but she kept on trying. Juliet had sent her some cookbooks, and Sam had taken to watching cooking shows in an effort to at least boil water without burning it. Don still brought takeout home some nights, but he was supportive of her efforts to prepare food. He even dared to try eating it.
Sam pushed the stroller and walked toward their home. It was strange to consider this city to be home. It still felt like New York was home, and this was a temporary location. Sam thought Don believed that at times, too. She knew he was under pressure at work, but he wouldn't talk about it. Sam didn't want to be a nagging housewife, so when Don changed the subject she intentionally chose to drop it, at least for that moment.
Sam ducked under the branches of a tree overhanging the sidewalk. She had made up her mind before the move, and once Sam made up her mind there was no changing it. She would stick by Donatello no matter where they went. But she couldn't help the little kernel of worry that followed her around from Don's silence. One of these nights she'd try to get him to talk.
222
"So, I'm thinking the green. Or maybe the gray."
Haven held up two packages and showed them to her shopping companion. The Crate and Barrel store was bustling with late day browsers. "Come on, what do you think?" she asked.
Raphael shrugged, and glanced around the store. He was looking for a clock so he could gauge how much time this was taking. Shopping was not his thing. At all.
"Raph, I want an opinion. Help me pick!" Haven cajoled, putting the packages in front of his face.
Raphael rolled his eyes at his girlfriend. "Haven, I don't care. It's a shower curtain."
"But I want the bathroom to look nice in case we have guests," Haven explained, putting the packages back on the shelf. She picked up a red floral one next.
"Who's gonna come over to your apartment besides me?" Raphael questioned, rolling his neck. He was stiff and tired from a long day training at the Utrom Transmat station, and he still had two private lessons tonight with advanced students. His best students were competing in a couple of weeks, and he had a bet with Leo on whose kids would take the trophies. Leo thought he had it in the bag because that 12 year old girl in his class had been invited to do a demonstration at the competition. But Raph had a couple of ringers in his group who could take that kid blindfolded.
"Your brothers might come over, if we entertained," Haven suggested.
"I see my brothers every day," Raphael reminded, finally locating a clock on the wall above the cash register. It was nearly 6:30. Raphael entirely missed the look of disappointment generated by his next words to Haven. "No need to entertain them. 'Sides we have the Saturday thing."
Haven turned back to the shelf and set down the red shower curtain. She fought down her instant feeling of envy at the reference to Saturday. It was a weekly event in the Hamato clan. They gathered at the house that evening, had a big dinner, and sat around and talked, reminisced, and generally connected as a family.
Not once in all the months she had been with Raphael had she been invited.
"I gotta get goin'," Raphael said. "Just pick one." He turned back to her, and then frowned at the look on her face. "What's the matter?"
Haven shook her head and pasted a smile on her face. "Nothing's the matter. I'll go shopping tomorrow. I know you have to get back to the school." Raphael shrugged, and headed toward the exit door. Haven followed in his wake as her smile disappeared. It wasn't that she didn't know what Raphael was like fairly early on in their relationship, but she kept on hoping. Raphael spent most nights at her apartment, but had resisted her invitations to move in. She didn't want to change him. She just wondered how long it would take before he settled down with her.
His brother had gone all the way to another planet to rescue a female Leo had known for a matter of weeks. And now Sen's mother was in town, Haven remembered. Haven frowned at Raphael's back. Haven hadn't said anything to Raphael about it. She could lose her job if she spilled on that, and Haven decided there wasn't any danger, really. After all, Taka was on their turf now. What could she do?