I like wearing clothes. I never would have bothered before. My plastron and carapace sufficiently cover my immodesty. But now that I have a choice, it would be rude not to indulge. I choose a crisp, lilac button-down shirt with a nice stiff collar. Ms. Devin has outdone herself. Matched with some wrinkle-free gray slacks, I feel… good.

Andrew announces that it is five minutes until eight. I check my outfit once more and head out the door. I reach the elevator, raise my palm and announce my arrival. The door opens and I ascend.

…

The smell of rich and savory food fills my senses as I step into the first floor of the penthouse.

Anya bounces down the spiral staircase. She's wearing a red, tufted ballerina-type skirt that cuts just above her knees. Around her neck is a red, silk scarf tied into a bow resting over her left shoulder. Her finger and toe nails are polished in a shiny pink lacquer and are her ears… pierced? Yeah, two tiny pearls dot either side of her head. She looks like Christmas day. She greets me with a bright, gapped smile. "Good evening Mr. Donnie. How are you? I like your shirt."

"Good evening Anya. I'm very well, thanks, and you look very lovely."

Her face grows darker and she purses her lips in a big grin. Something 'dings' in the kitchen. "Ooh! The Italian bread is ready! You can sit at the table Mr. Donnie. Dinner is almost ready!" Anya runs off to the kitchen.

"Ok." I say. "Where's your mom?" I ask a little louder.

"Right here!" Sasha calls from atop the stairs. I take in every detail of her as she ascends. Her short brunette coif of hair that usually curves up in a gravity-defying bang is smoothed down and parted to the side. Her hazel eyes burn brightly surrounded by their smoky gray lids and midnight mascara. Her lips have been dipped in deep rouge. The train of her form-hugging, emerald, satin gown shimmers; it brings out the pale luster of her bare arms and revealing chest. A Russian beauty if I ever saw one… I feel overwhelmed and underdressed.

As she walks toward me the high slit of her dress shows off one sculptured leg and a high golden stiletto. I take more time than I should have trailing up her body to look her in the eye and smile. "Hello, Sasha."

"Good evening Donnie. Are you done with today's work already?"

"I, uh..."

"Mother, you look positively gorgeous! Don't you think Mr. Donnie?" Anya jumps out of the kitchen with a small platter of warm, covered bread.

"I couldn't have said it better." I say as I look at Sasha; a warm blush splashes over her nose.

"Great. Let's eat before dinner gets cold." Anya dashes to the dining area.

Sasha grins at me and crosses her arms. "I'm sorry. I suppose she invited you to dinner and I am just now finding out."

I nod. "Ah, well…" I laugh. "This is kind of awkward… what do you think she's planning?"

"I suppose we'll find out." Sasha walks toward the dining area. "You are still joining us?"

"Of course." I gulp and follow her.

Anya has decorated the glass table beautifully; there is a gold table runner, crisp, white, square plates, a bowl of fresh spring greens, mixed with dried cranberries, gorgonzola and walnuts, buttered garlic bread, and a large platter filled with spaghetti topped with a thick red sauce and fresh Romano.

Anya pulls out a chair for her mother, and ushers me to sit across from her. Anya pours chilled grape juice into our finely etched crystal goblets. She sits at the head of the table and looks at her mother and then at me. "When you are at home, Mr. Donnie, what do you say to begin the meal?"

"Well…" I look down as I place the fancy napkin in my lap. "My father usually blesses the food and then we all dig in… how do you begin?" I ask.

"We say, 'My blagodarim za etu yedu'. It means, 'We are thankful for this food.' But I'd like to do it your way tonight, if you don't mind." Anya bows her head, closes her eyes and waits.

"Okay." I close my eyes and try to remember my father's words. "We are thankful for family and we are thankful for peace. We are thankful for this food that we share with our family in peace. We bless the hands that prepared this food with strength and peace;" I open my eyes and frown. "May this time bring joy to us all."

"May this time bring joy to us all." Anya responds. She looks to me and I can't help but to find my smile again.

We take our portion of bread and salad. Anya holds out her plate and invites me to serve her some spaghetti; I do the same for Sasha. It all tastes really good and I dutifully compliment Anya between bites. I take a breath from my munching and clear my throat. My eyes keep glancing at Sasha. She is striking… and I notice Anya keeps grinning at me. I take a sip of my juice. "So, why are you two so dressed up? Do you usually do the 'red carpet' thing for dinner?"

"No, not really." Sasha offers. "It is something special Anya and I do from time to time. Holidays, birthdays, 'just because' days." She smiles, somewhat sadly, at Anya. "You can probably tell that we don't get out too much. I'm very busy and I know you understand that it's just safer this way."

I nod and twirl around that last of the noodles on my plate. "Well, I am very happy to be invited to such a special dinner. Thank you, Anya."

"Sure." She says brightly. "It's the least I could do. Here you go." She says as she places another heap of saucy, cheesy noodles on my plate. "You've been such a great instructor. I'm learning so much by you being here… I'm sure my mother appreciates you being here too, don't you, Mother?"

"Yes, of course I do." She looks at me then looks away and smiles.

"Wonderful!" Anya says as she serves another helping onto her mother's plate. "You two just continue on without me. I'll be back to check on you a bit later."

Anya quickly leaves the table. Suddenly the lights dim, the wall-sized Screen Time awakens, displaying a crackling fireplace, and smooth jazz rises into the air. Is this Kenny G?

My attempt to hide my growing grin fails. I lay my utensils aside and look at Sasha, wanting to share my discomfort and amusement. But she looks very sad for some reason. "What's wrong?" I ask softly.

She looks over at me and purses her lips. She finishes the rest of her grape juice in one gulp; probably wishing it was something stronger. "My daughter is setting herself up for a big disappointment."

"I don't know. It's an adorably innocent gesture. Although I have to admit my palms are getting sweaty and I'm fighting the urge to ask you about your favorite books and movies." I chuckle.

"As much as I wish this was a joking matter, I have to explain something very clearly to you." She rests her hands on the table and looks me in the eye. "You and I are never going to happen."

I'm surprised she feels the need to say this. I tilt my head to the side. "With all do respect, Doctor, I have not forgotten how I ended up her. I have not forgotten what you've done to me. I have not forgotten that you threatened my family with devolution if I refused to help you find what potentially could add decades to your life. I'm trying to survive. I never put on a façade when I speak to you or anyone else here. I honestly want to enjoy myself. And I have been. It's starting to feel less and less like a hostage situation. So please, don't misinterpret my resigned demeanor as anything more than it is. You do not have to convince me to keep my feelings in check."

I can't tell if she's angry or hurt. And why would she be hurt?

"Good." She says. "What do you think of her?"

Her, being Anya. "I think she's an amazing child. I look at her and I still can't believe she exists."

Sasha nods. "She is very amazing. It was hard though, raising a little girl by myself. Well, not all by myself. I did have Devin, but I felt solely responsible for Anya. I needed to protect her and keep her away from everyone, all the while trying to give her a normal life. She has no real friends; she can never go to the museum or the playground. I was all she had afer my father died. Sasha was only six; she took his death hard. She didn't speak for about a month. She floated around the house, playing and reading but never said a word to me. Then one morning she just started talking again, I don't know why. I guess she was just ready." She lays her hand over mine and I unconsciously grasp her fingers. Did I do it because we were talking about Anya, or did I just want to touch her? After what I said about my feelings not being affected, I wonder now who I was trying to convince. "Donnie, the relationship you have with Anya should only get stronger. I want her to know what it feels like to be around people who look like her; to relish in the sense of belonging. I will never be able to give her that. All I've done is shelter her; she probably thinks that I'd been ashamed of her at some time or another…"

"We both know Anya's smarter than that. She understands her situation. And she loves you very much."

"That makes this matter all the more complicated." Sasha shifts in her chair and places both of her hands over mine. She looks down at her grasp and frowns. "You understand that as you and Anya get closer, you're going to becoming very important to her. And I am her mother so…"

"So she thinks that it would only be natural for us to be together, so that she can have us both. I get that. I think Anya will be happy just seeing us together; showing her that in spite of our differences, we will be there for her. Nothing more would need to happen."

She whispers. "But she would be much better off with just you."

I squint my eyes in confusion. "I… I hope you're not saying what I think you are."

"You know what she's going through, being a mutant turtle yourself. You have walked in her footsteps. You would be a much better help than I… I had a long talk with Troy and…"

"Let me stop you right there." I remove my hand from her hold. "I also had a shifty conversation with Troy, I recorded it too. I listened to it over and over and I still came to the same conclusion… I do not like that man. He is no good for Anya and I thought he was no good for you, but now I have my doubts." I push away my plate and stand. I don't mean to get louder but I can't help it. "Don't think I can't empathize about the sacrifices you've made by having Anya in your shadow. You probably missed out on a lot of opportunities for love and companionship. And as beautiful as you are, there probably aren't a lot of guys who would accept a mutant turtle as their stepchild. So it isn't amazing to me that you find the kid's biological father, me, so you can dump her on me and finally begin your human life with your human boyfriend Troy and bask in the abundance of normalcy you both so richly deserve!"

She stands and slaps me smartly across my cheek. She yells at me sharply in a barrage of Russian words that do not sound very nice.

I rub the side of my face tenderly. "No hablo Russian." I mumble.

"I called you a pretentious ass! How dare you assume Anya is just a burden that I cannot WAIT to get rid of! She is the only thing in my life that matters!"

"Oh, well then I'm thoroughly confused! So you're not slowly trying to replace yourself with me? It sounds like you're making plans to leave!"

"I will never run out on her! I will be her mother until I die!"

"Then why are you pushing her so hard toward me? And why are you pushing so desperately away from me?"

"You are better for her than me…! And I am definitely not the one that you should get close to."

We both turn to the sound of a small gasp. Anya looks at us with big eyes. She's holding a silver tray of red and white heart-shaped jell-o molds surrounded by chocolate kisses.

Sasha folds her arms and looks down. I remember every word Troy had said to me. He thinks that Sasha may have fallacious feelings for me because of Anya. If that were true, then why does she insist on keeping me at an associative distance? You'd think she would at least want to be friendly for Anya's sake. I really don't want Sasha to stop talking to me, and things weird again. I step around the table and place my hands on her shoulders. She won't look at me.

I whisper. "I can never replace you. Anya would never have that…" Sasha starts to warm in my hands. She looks at me with glassy eyes. I forget what I was going to say next. So I just say something stupid. "Let's just take things slow. After all of this is over, and I finish my work here helping you with this Protagen project, maybe you and Anya could come and meet my family. Perhaps you two could find a place nearby. I'd really like that… so maybe we can try to be friends for now."

She calms at my words and she almost smiles. Then she looks at Anya and gives her what looks like an apologetic frown. Something sparks in her eyes and she grimaces at me. "Why would your family want to meet the person that kidnapped one of their sons and lost one of their brothers?" Sasha says with a hint of venom. "How you and I interact has nothing to do with Anya. You play your part in her life and I will play mine. You will never forget what I did to you and your family. You had better not forget that I am the one who took Leonardo away from you… take your hands off of me." She hisses. "I said get let go of me!" She screams and jerks away.

Anya looks at her mother with hurt. She slams the tray crashing to the floor. She runs upstairs.

"Anya, wait!" Sasha picks up the hem of her gown and takes up after her daughter. I slowly follow.

…

By the time I get upstairs Anya is screaming at her mother from behind the door. Sasha is softly coercing her. Anya gets more and more agitated. She repeats something over and over. The door opens and Sasha exits. She walks past me and heads for another door. Tears are falling down her face, the mascara warning to become a mess. Sasha opens the door to her own room.

"She only wants to talk to you." Sasha closes her door.

I'm stuck between two crying women. I should probably make a run for it but decide to rap on Anya's door. When she doesn't answer I turn the knob… hmm there ARE regular doors in this place. I peek inside. "Anya?" I look around. Her room is dark in muted pinks, blues and purples glowing from the slender Screen Times hanging on her walls. I step in and leave the door cracked. I find her sitting on the floor against a wall. I walk toward her and take in the expanse of her room; a pillow infested bed, an art table and a workbench littered with gadgets, and a tiny house filled with bald, green Barbie dolls. I slide down next to her. I look down at our outstretched legs and bare feet. My pair may be on a larger scale but they look almost identical to hers. I rest my hands in the plush carpet and shrug my shoulders.

"I'm sorry Anya."

"What are sorry for? All I saw was you trying to comfort my mother and her screaming at you and pushing you away." She says with obvious anger.

Kids…

While we were arguing, I didn't have time to process what Sasha was actually saying to me. It sounded like she wants me to hate her but still be close with Anya. Funny thing, I don't want to hate her. I place more blame on myself than I do her about Leo. And she doesn't want to be friends with me because she's guilty about what she's done and what she's doing… Maybe she has a hard time forgiving herself. Or maybe she really doesn't want me to show her any kindness. Does she deserve kindness from me? I don't know. Even if she did inadvertently disrupt my family forever… I still kind of like her. She's not a bad person. She just wants a chance to be healthy enough to see her daughter become an adult. I want to give her that chance. I suppose I'll have to tell Sasha this later.

Anya is my focus now. She must be really upset to yell at her mother like that. Her little match-making plan seemed to go to shambles.

I nudge her in the elbow. "I think I hurt your mom's feelings by some of the things I said. I was wrong and I need to apologize to you and to her."

"It looks like you were trying to apologize, but she wanted none of it."

"But didn't you just do the same thing when she came up here to talk to you?"

Anya sighs and tilts her head away from me. "I know but, can't she see how important this is to me?"

"What's important to you?"

"Keeping you." she says.

"Keeping me?"

"Yes, because you are a mutant like me." She says somberly. She studies her feet, wiggling them. "I didn't realize I was different until I found one of Nannie's magazines in the kitchen back in England. I took it up to my room and looked at all the pictures of beautiful women. Their skin was all different colors and their hair all different lengths… but none of them looked like me." She glances up at me and gives a weak smile. "I don't even have hair." She turns away and wraps her hands around her knees. "Mother always tells me I am beautiful, no matter how different I look. But I thought that once I grew up, my shell would fall off, my skin would turn pink and my hair would grow… I'd look just like my mother. I'd really be beautiful then… But I know better now."

I'm at a loss for words. She's only ten and she's being so existential, already questioning her place in the world, questioning how others may view her, if she'll be accepted. This is the first time I hate how smart she is. I'm sure Sasha had hoped her daughter wouldn't have to deal with such teenage drama until Anya was actually a teenager.

She sniffles her little nose and shifts her posture. I hear paper rustle underneath her.

"What is that?" I ask.

"Nothing!" She scrambles to hide the paper under her right arm but I swiftly reach around her and snatch it away before she can protest.

I hold it up where she cannot reach. "Is it too personal to share with me?" I tease.

"No… it's just a stupid dream I have, uh had… Please don't be mad, Mr. Donnie! I was just…"

"I won't open it if you don't want me to. It's ok to have some secrets to yourself." I look down at her.

She lowers her hands and sits back against the wall. She exhales. "It's ok."

"Ok." I unfold her thin piece of construction paper and see what she had been hiding.

It's a drawing.

Colored pencil on fibered, recycled paper; a drawing of a woman with short brown hair, wearing a white coat holding the right hand of a little, green, smiling girl… and a tall dark green man holding the girl's left hand. The woman and man's outer arms unnaturally stretch over their heads, toward each other, in an arc, holding hands. The woman has a ring on her finger. Their forms are surrounded by the frame of a house and the only furniture present is a bookcase full of colorful books. Outside of the stick-figure house are bushes and trees and a huge yellow sun. At the bottom of the drawing is one word.

Family.

Her voice comes in soft and shaky. "Maybe one day we can be like this. Maybe that's why Mother was looking for you… to complete us. It's not that Mother isn't enough for me… but I've dreamt for so long that there must be more out there… and then I met you."

Then she takes a leap.

"Maybe you could just forgive her for bringing you here and you two could go on some dates and really come to like each other… and maybe you could ask her to marry you… once you fall in love." She was quick to say. "I know you don't love each other yet. It did scare me a little, when you two were yelling at each other. I heard you from the kitchen, but families fight all the time… maybe if you both try, you could fall in love."

I look down at her beside me. I can tell she's been thinking about this a lot. She's such a sheltered and innocent child, even if she is brilliant. "Anya…" I say as I carefully fold up her drawing. "I don't think a couple of 'dates' will make Sasha and I fall… You see, love…" I have no idea what I'm talking about. "Love is a very strong emotion. It is a very complex thing and it's difficult to just start 'feeling it' toward someone. It can take a very long time… if it ever happens."

She shakes her head. "No, you're wrong." I never thought I'd hear her say that to me. "Love isn't hard. It's easy." She looks up at me, her golden eyes shimmering bright through her tears. "I loved you the first time I saw you. And I love you so much that I want you to stay and be part of my family, Mr. Donnie."

I never understood it when Mikey said that his brain turned to mush whenever his girl, Arimi, requested something of him. It didn't matter how strange or strenuous her desire, when Arimi cooed at my brother a certain way, he'd have died trying to give her the moon…

I understand it now.

I wrap my arm around Anya's slender shoulders and pull her into a firm, but gentle, hug, pressed to my side. "Anya…"

I love you too.

"You can just call me Donnie… ok?"

I feel her nod.

"Anya, I would want nothing more than for us to be a family." I chuckle. "But I can't promise you that Sasha and I will be 'tying the knot' anytime soon." I can feel her shoulders slouch. "But you never know. Stranger things have happened. I know it to be true that no two families are alike. I also know that forcing things to go a certain way doesn't always help. I told you before that things somehow work themselves out." I perch her chin under my hand and have her face me. I tap my finger on the crest of her nose and she smiles. "Kiddo, you're one in a million."

She giggles. "Actually, I was one in six point nine billion… With you, now the odds don't bother me as much."

How did she burrow so deep into my heart so quickly?

We sit there along the wall of her room a few minutes more. If I had ever wanted a little sister while growing up, she would be exactly like Anya. She would be charming, inquisitive, quick-witted, and cute as a button. I would answer all of her questions, make her a piping cup of cocoa whenever she asked and keep big, mean brother Raph from bullying her too much. No, Raph would love her too.

I would love her to death and give my last breath to keep her safe. Is that how I really feel about Anya? Like her big brother? I don't think that's how she sees me. From the picture she drew, she's placing me as a father figure in her life above anything else, which is quite accurate, since Professor Perry did use half of my DNA to create her. I can't even be mad at him. I'm surprisingly thrilled. I want to visit his grave and tip my imaginary hat to his headstone, thanking him. Watching as the child falls asleep in my arms, breathing evenly, being comforted by my presence, without fear or hatred, warms me all over.

I see the light of the hallway pour in and Sasha quietly enters. Her face is clean and her hair is messy. She's wearing a cotton nightgown and fluffy socks. She stands by the dresser and I look up at her. I wonder what she's thinking, watching her turtle daughter be comforted by her turtle 'father'. After everything that's happened tonight, I assume her to be happy. She steps over my legs and bends down on the other side of Anya. She caresses the dried tears over her soft green skin and kisses the top of her head. I look over at her.

"I'm sorry for what I said, Sasha." I barely whisper.

Sasha gets to her feet and opens the second drawer of Anya's dresser. She pulls out a long, pajama shirt covered in stars. "Help me get her to bed." She murmurs. She hands me the shirt. Sasha undoes the big red bow around Anya's neck and delicately removes the pearls from the pierced holes under her ear canals. She drapes the scarf on the bedpost and places the studs inside a red jewelry box on top of the dresser. She lifts the girl's hands in the air. I turn to the side and fit the top over her head and arms. Sasha motions to me and I lift Anya off the floor. Sasha pulls off Anya's red, ruffled skirt and lays it on a plush chair. She walks back across the room and turns down the bed. I rest Anya's head gracefully on top of a pillow and Sasha tucks her in. She kisses her head once more and we close the door behind us.

Once in the hall, Sasha heads straight to her bedroom door but I reach for her hand.

"Just let me go to bed, Donatello." She sounds a smidge irritated.

"Not until you hear me out."

"I don't deserve an explanation."

"I'm never going to hate you." I say to her. "The way I see it, you and Anya are a package deal. I can't be close to one and not make room for the other."

She turns around and stares at me. She opens her mouth but snaps it shut. She looks down at my hand around hers. She furrows her brows and shakes her head slowly. She closes her eyes.

My God woman! Stop with the faces and say something! What the hell is going on in your mind?!

"Did Troy tell you that he loved me?"

Not that I believe him but…

"Yes." I say.

"… Did he tell you that I loved him?"

"Don't you?"

She rolls her eyes and lets out a big puff of air. "He has a hard time letting go of the past. Yes, he was there for me in some really dark times. He encouraged me all the way through medical school… He doesn't know that I know, but he was going to propose to me after I got my PhD."

"Why didn't he?"

"My father died."

I nod. I look down and I'm still holding her hand. Heck, if she doesn't mind, then I don't. "Did Troy end up asking you later?"

"No. I had found the letter and the ring box under his bed. Anya was hiding under there so, no, I wasn't snooping. I had always wondered why he hadn't asked me. But I was also relieved that he never did… I just never saw him in that way. Which, I had thought, was really unfortunate for me because that meant I'd probably never find anyone else who would love me and my little girl… I loved Troy because he was my friend and the only other person who knew about Anya. In the long run, I know I hurt him by never telling him my true feelings and just kept him close because I was selfish." She looks down at our hands and rubs her thumb along mine. "I think I just recently figured out why he never asked me to marry him."

"Why?" I ask.

"In Troy's mind, if I'd have said yes to his proposal, Anya would have stayed with my father. Troy and I would be free to live as we please and start our own normal family. But my father died and Troy knew that I would never leave Anya."

Well, it all makes sense to me now. If I take Anya home with me, Troy's 'happily ever after' with Sasha can still be a reality. "Sasha, you have to cut that sorry man loose."

"I've finally told him. I told him that I don't love him in that way. He thinks I'm… not thinking clearly." She says flatly.

He thinks you have a crush on me… wait... Do you?!

No.

Does she?

At the risk of sounder uber conry. "Well, no matter how hopeless he may be, he does have good taste."

"I'm not worth it." She says.

"Ugh, not worth what? A tiny, harmless compliment?"

"No, especially not from you."

I roll my eyes. "If you're not worth it, then why am I trapped here trying to cure your potentially life-threatening disease?"

"I love Anya… and I mean something to her, in the same way my mother meant something to me."

I release her hand and run my palms over my face with a sigh. "Sasha, how about we do this? Let's pretend that all the weird stuff that happened tonight didn't happen. Let's just say that we had a wonderful dinner with a wonderful little girl, shook hands and said goodnight. From this moment forward I will shoulder all of the blame and ignore all of the stupid reasons you've given me to loathe your existence and, instead, treat you like the good-natured person I know you are. I admit you've given me fair warning but I choose to ignore it. Tomorrow morning I am going to smile at you and wish you a good morning because I want to… I hope you smile at me and greet me in return. We'll have a good, productive day in the lab and after the day is done hopefully you won't still feel like maiming yourself if I wish you a goodnight as well… how does that sound?"

"I would like that very much." She says without hesitation.

I try not to act too surprised but I smile. I walk toward her and reach around her and open her bedroom door, gently pushing her inside. "Goodnight Sasha."

"Goodnight." She says. She closes her door and I head downstairs. The music is off and the crackling fireplace is replaced with a colorful, rotating nebula. I reach the elevator and hear someone 'psst' at me from the stairs. I turn and see Sasha pointing toward the kitchen.

"Take the container of leftovers I placed on the counter for you." She quietly calls.

I go back to the kitchen and take the plastic box filled with spaghetti and a piece of bread. I turn to wave in thanks but she's already gone.

On the way back to my room I keep thinking about all of the times we've been around each other. It seems like every time Sasha starts to get comfortable with me, she does something or says something to try to distance herself. At first I was angry and thought she was just being mean, but I noticed the pattern and was finally able to call her out on it. I hope she really listened to what I was saying and stops wasting her time trying to evoke feels of hatred in me that aren't even there. I want her to laugh with me and joke with me. I want… I can't believe this… I want her to allow herself to like me… I want her true feelings to show without fear of rejection. I need to know what she really thinks of me… Because now I can't stop thinking about her.

…

A/N: Omgosh! Omgsoh! It's starting to happen! So even though he doesn't know what it will look like yet, Donnie is agreeing to be apart of Anya's life. No deadbeat dads here! Also I think Anya is adorable! I hope I gave enough detail in her little fancy dinner outfit! But you can't force love… and you can't hide it either! Any comments are ALWAYS appreciated!