Michelangelo paused at the door of Donatello's lab, now also the work central for his job. A thick stack of paper was in one hand, his other was posed at the door, ready to knock and be allowed entrance. But before he could, Don's exasperated voice on the other end floated past, and stilled the hand before it could make a single sound. Mikey, after a moment, eased the door open a hair, and listened in with uncommon patience and stillness, for him.

"No sir. I don't think aliens are trying to ruin your I really don't think they are involved at all….No, not the government either, unless you been hacking or something…what? No, I'm not trying to interrogate you…..I….well, you did admit you spilled soda on your mainframe. Maybe that…yes I do believe soda does nothing good for computer chips. No I don't think aliens are controlling your actions, sir. I'm sure they didn't make you pour your drink on the mainframe….Okay, maybe they did. I don't know. Okay, that's fine. Yes I really really want to help. ….wait, what? No I'm not working for the government, aliens, or any conspiracy!"

Mikey grinned as he listened, opening the door a little wider so that he could hear better. Sounds like Don had hooked a real live one this time!

Sir! Sir…..I do understand. I agree. The aliens are all out to get us. No, rally. I do. I do believe. But we…we got to get back to the issue of getting your computer working again. What? Not an issue of globe….getting your computer running. Sure, I read it all the time."

Mike was sure he heard Don's eyes roll.

"Oh? Government writes the tabloids. Actually I can see that. Trying to control us with yellow journalism? Sounds…No, I told you, I am not with the government."

Mikey heard the chair's squeaking protest as though the occupant inside fell back heavily against the back rest. He could hear his brother's teeth grinding together. A neat trick, considering he was still talking in a calm, soothing tone of voice. Mikey knew he wouldn't have been calm at this point if it was him on the like. He would have told him to get lost, loser, and hung it up. Yup, good thing for everyone that he was not the one with the job of helping retards with da putters. Biting back a laugh, he leaned as close to the door as he dared, without actually touching it.

"No sir, I'm not trying….I'm not integrating you. I promise. I keep telling you I don't work for the government….yes, the CIA is part of the government…..sir? Well, I guess you do have a point, I wouldn't admit to it if I was working for them. Look, you'll have to trust me here. But I'm not! Look, I'm not your enemy here, I'm just your friendly MIT tech….no, MIT is not the same as the MIB. Yeah, I'm pretty sure…..no, of course I'm not lying about this."

Finally, Mikey heard Donnie's patience snap like brittle glass. "No, I'm not…..What?! No, I don't see how…..I fail to see how that would help the situation. NO I would not like that at all! I'm not even sure if that is an anatomical possibility! Yeah? Same to you, you creep!"

Mikey risked looking in when silence washed over them. He was greeted by the sight of his older brother huddled in his chair in a pathetically miserable heap. Don's been found in a neap a lot this week. Mikey's amused smile faded to a look of worry and sympathy. But before he could do anything, Donnie, without raising his head from his arms, spoke up. "What is it?"

"Um, well, oh yeah. Finished my last writing assignment, or wise and wonderful teacher who would never give me an F." Mikey said, with a huge, cheesy smile. Donnie might look up, after all. The last time he did, and saw Mikey's worry, well, it did not end really well.

"Oh. Well, that's good to hear. Leave it at the desk, and I'll look it over when I can, I suppose."

"You okay, bro?" Mikey asked before he could stop himself.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm perfect. Peachy keen."

"That sounds weird when you say that."

"Mikey." Don took on an angry, warning note. "I'm going to need a lot more coffee if you're going to start being, well, you right now."

"Who do you want me to be?"

Don looked up at Mike's offended tone, though Mikey tried hard to make it sound like he was only joking. His expression was worried. "Are you okay? Raph bothering you or something?"

"Nah, he's burning some rage with his favorite dance partner." Mike rolled his eyes. "Really, at this rate, he's going to need a new punching bag."
"That would only be the forth one this year."

"Tell me about it." Mikey studied Don's face for a second or so. "How long have you been working anyway?"

"Long enough, and don't go pulling a Leo on me right now!"

"Sorry." Mikey muttered, flinching away at Don's sudden sharp tone, feeling as though he's been slapped.

Don sighed, though it really sounded more like a groan to Mikey, and seemed to visibly deflate before his eyes. "Sorry about that. It's just Leo's been in here a number of times, nagging at me. It was at least three times. Telling me to cut my shift short and go to bed or something like that."
"Harsh, even for him."
"Yeah, but I didn't mean to lash out at you. I'll try not to."

"Understood. Been tuning him out?"

"Pretty much."

"Well, if you don't want any more on your plate. Like, say, grading my paper, you don't have to. I completely understand."

Don snorted at that. "Nice try."

"I do my best!" Mikey grinned. Then he grew serious, thoughtful as he added quietly. "Wed does your shift end, anyway?"

"Over thirty minutes ago, but Mr. Conspiracy theory paranoia extraordinaire was ranting and raving for at least an hour. I was timing him after I think thirty minutes before that."

"Whoa! Sounds like another writing assignment in the making!"

"Yeah, sounds like it, actually. Think you are up to it?"
"Absolutely!"
"Think we have enough right now?"

"I think so. I think this next one will be just about plenty."

"Well, okay then. Good."

Mikey felt a lot better when he saw his brother's face as it broke out in smiles. Smiles from Don-san was becoming distressingly a very rare commodity these days. He felt better still, when Don took off his headgear and stood, stretching as he got up. Mikey frowned. Was it his imagination or was Don skinnier than a week ago? He didn't say anything about that, only said in as light and casual a tone as he could manage. "Feel like eating? I think I might grab me some grundage."

Donnie actually laughed at that. "Okay, Crawl, sounds good." He blinked and added in a surprised tone. "Actually, some food sound pretty good right now."

"Good! We can have some hot chocolate! Maybe some pizza noodle soup."

"Um, actually on second thought…" Don said, thoughtfully.

"Come on!" Mikey said, grabbing his arm and starting to pull. "This one is really good! Even Raph liked it, like a lot!"

"Really? Oh be still my beating heart, miracles happen still."

"Oh, just come on. We need to feed that huge brain of yours. You're grumpy right now. That must mean your sugar is at your angle wrappings." Mikey insisted as he continued pulling the brainiac toward the kitchen and resolved to ignore the sarcastic barbs. He really was starting to wish he didn't have to ignore so many of them, of late! Besides, if he was getting this snarky with him, it was nothing to how he's been talking to Raph for the last year or so. And that was nothing compared to how he been talking to Leo since he got back. Mikey was scared if Don kept treating him like that, Leo would just decide he had enough and leave. Whew, peacemaking was hard work. And now he's snarky to Splinter! Maybe he should find the nearest Doctor, and have Don checked for a brain tumor!