warning: not intended for munchkins. Adult situations and nasty language follow. Sorry, no violence this time, but hold on-- there's mucho carnage to come.

Chapter One: Heading For A Spin

--Van Halen, Jump

We're watching one of those nature documentaries on Discovery-- Shadow of course isn't paying any attention, the blue-footed booby or whatever she was watching isn't on any more-- and suddenly we hear this obscene noise-- "Harh! Harh!"
And it's these two Galapagos turtles going at it, the male making these indescribably bad noises, and we all kind of stop what we're doing and stare at the screen.
Except Shadow, of course, who's in this deep involved conversation with her teddy bear.
So now that they've got everyone's attention-- me, Raphael, Mike and Casey, anyway-- the announcer tells us that the male turtle's got this tremendously big dick, the better to reach over the female's shell and enter the Golden Palace of the Himalayas I guess, and at this point Casey's jaw is about on the floor, and he says..."ah..."
And Mike says, "Damn. I think I left the oven on," and I say, "let me give you a hand," and for once Raphael's right behind me.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Steve looks at the PRIVATE door.
"So do you ever let him out of there?"
"Oh yeah. Once a day we put him on a leash and let him take a run around the building. We keep a muzzle on him so he won't bite anyone..."
He laughs, and April goes back to the invoice.
"So what was wrong again?"
"The battery went. Happens once in a while, especially with the older Macs. Should be fine now."
He looks at the Mac Classic. "I suppose I should get something newer."
She shrugs her shoulders. "Up to you. I mean, if you just want to do your word processing on it, you should be fine. If you want to do any heavy-duty design work or anything, I'd probably tell you to upgrade."
"I leave design work up to the publishers."
"And a color monitor would probably be easier on your eyes."
"Could I get a monitor that would work with any system?"
"Oh, sure. We'd probably have to dumb it down a little for your computer, but that'd be no problem."
"Dumb it down. I like that." He moves to pick the computer up. "Oh, I almost forgot. How's his brother doing?"
The confusion must show on April's face, because he quickly adds, "the one who wants to be a writer."
Oh, yeah. Last time he'd told Don that Mike should get an inch of rejection slips before he should start rethinking the notion of a career in writing. "I'm not sure..." She knocks on the PRIVATE door. "Don?"
Donatello looks up from the circuit board he's working on. "Yeah, April?"
"How high are Mike's slips now?"
"We're arguing about it. He says they're up to a half-inch, but he keeps kinda tamping them down. We're gonna go broke paying for all the self-addressed stamped envelopes."
"He's getting discouraged?" Scott calls through the door.
"Yeah."
"You know, I'd look at something."
April says, "You don't have--"
"I'd be glad to," he tells her, and she realizes that she's afraid of what he'll say.
"You know, I can be nice," he says. "I have a very good 'gently critical' style. Very constructive. It's been praised."
"I'd really appreciate it," Don says, "but--"
"Seriously, it's no problem. Have him send me something."
"I will. Thanks. Thanks a lot."

Mike recruited Shadow to help him with the muffins, which seemed like a better idea before he actually started cooking. She's not in the greatest of moods, and ordering her around only makes things worse.
"Honey, you gotta put the cranberries in now. Yeah. Come on...just tip the cup over...no, no, I know you can do it yourself...it's okay..."
Raph and Leo have been sitting out here watching for a good twenty minutes now: it's more entertaining than anything on TV, by a long shot.
"You gotta give me the spoon back now. Yeah. It wouldn't be good if you stirred it any more. Just trust me on this, Shadow."
They get into a tug-of-war with it, and Raph starts snickering.
"Why don't you have your uncle Raphael help you set the timer?" Mike says, and Leo can tell from his voice that even Mike's legendary patience is cracking.
It works: her eyes light up, and she totters off in Raph's direction. "Aww man," he groans. "Where's your dad at, anyway?"
"Probably off sulking," Mike says, happily spooning the batter into those waxed paper things. "I think it's gonna take a while for him to get over that nature show." They all start laughing. "Talk about a fragile ego."
"If he asks me about that, I'm just gonna...I don't know." Raph says. "How long you want this timer to go for, Mike?"
"Twenty minutes," Mike says. "What is up with him lately?"
Raphael pushes the buttons. "You know."
"He's your friend, I know," Leo asks, "but how stupid..."
He turns to me. "Do you really want to know?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Look, I just think you two are spending way too much time together."
"Casey, we have been through this two thousand times. At least. He is my business partner, remember? We have a business together. Therefore, we spend time together. That's what people who work together do." She opens the dishwasher. "Is this stuff clean?"
"I don't remember. April--"
"Maybe if you'd ever had a real job you'd understand." I should be nicer about this, she thinks, but I was nicer two months ago and it didn't get me anywhere. I'm giving up on nice. Thank God the kids aren't here...
"April, come on."
"Casey-- how do I-- I mean, if there's any guy in this building, on this planet, that I'm less likely..." The dishes look dirty so she grabs the soap and pours it into the door.
"Does he know that?"
"He's not interested, Casey. Are you jealous or something?"
"April, you're my wife. You're supposed to get along better with me, right?"
Is he really this stupid? "No, I'm not, Casey. You don't argue about the kids with your friends, or about taking out the trash, and your friends don't care if you learn how to fight, and your friends are never dumb enough to be jealous of your husband." She slams the dishwasher door shut. "Look, I never pull this shit with you and Raph."
"It's not the same!"
"Why not?"
"Well..." He looks down, like he's a little kid about to say something he knows she's not gonna like. "I'm not a woman."
"Oh my God, Casey..."
"April, you know it's different."
"It's not different, Casey, and I'm sick of you pretending it is."
Casey says what he always says when he knows he's losing: "I'm going for a walk."
"Fine."
"See ya."

The door slams and all four of them wince. The practice room's right above April and Casey's kitchen, which makes for some interesting moments.
"You know," Don says very quietly, "I bet if we put some blue board between our floor and their ceiling..."
"Raph," Leo asks, "do you think it would help if Don..."
Don snaps, "So he'd be worried about me looking at his ass instead of his wife's?"
"Don's right," Raph says. "It's not the problem, anyway. Not really."
"I don't get it," Mike says. "You know what I'd give to have..."
"He thinks he's irrelevant," Don says. "Especially since we started the business. He's not making the money, he's not filling her every waking moment, he's fixed..."
"That's why he won't teach her how to fight," Raph adds. "Which is getting ridiculous."
"She won't even leave the apartment alone if she can help it." Mike frowns at the thought.
"We should've beaten the shit out of that guy."
"He was drunk, Raph," Mike says. "He probably doesn't even remember it."
"She sure as hell does."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Computing Solutions, this is Don."
"You gotta help me. The screen's totally blank."
"Did you hit the 'off' button?"
"No, I didn't hit the 'off' button."
Don leans back in his chair, grins. "You sure?"
There's a long pause. Raphael comes in through the back door. "Anybody out there now?"
Don shakes his head.
Scott's voice comes back on the line. "Okay, I checked. I checked all the connections, the circuit breaker, and the power cord, and everything looks fine."
"Scott?" Don asks as Raph ventures out to the front.
"What?"
"Why don't you ever check that before you call?"
She's opening up the mail at her desk. "Hey, April, why don't you take some time off this afternoon?"
"What's up?"
"We're gonna teach you to fight."
"We?"
"Leo, Mike and I. We figure Casey's pissed enough at Don already."
"Why--"
"'Cause you should be able to protect yourself. You've hung out with us for years...anyway, come on up, we'll start you on the basics."
"Thanks, Raph, but..."
He watches her, trying to read her face.
"I don't think I should. Not yet, anyway. I...I want to work on him a little longer..."
"It's all right. That's fine."
"Thank you guys so much, it's just that..."
"Don't worry about it, April. If you change your mind, just let us know, okay?"
"All right. Thanks."
Raph smiles at her and ducks back into the PRIVATE room.
"So I haven't seen anything from your brother yet," Scott purrs into his ear.
"It's on the way."
"In the mail?"
"Think I'd trust you to use email?" Don scribbles yes/no? on the notepad he keeps by the phone.
"Don, I'm hurt."
Raph circles no, and Don writes why?
Casey.
Don nods. "You told me you liked to read words on paper. I'm sending you words on paper."
"You're sending me words on paper?"
"Well, yeah--"
"Does he know you mailed it?"
"Well, he knows I asked for a copy..."
"You bastard!"
Don laughs. "Yeah, I know, but..."
Who?
Customer.
Raph grabs the pen back and circles Who? Scott Masterson.
Author?
Don nods.
"You mailed Mike's story to Scott Masterson?"
Scott asks, "So when were you planning on telling him?"
"I figured I'd wait until..."
"Dammit, Donatello--"
Don holds Raph off with his hand. "...until you called, and I'd hook you two up..."
"It's Mike's story, and you think you can just haul off and..."
"Look, Scott, I gotta go, my other brother's here being a moron--"
"Did he just call you Donatello?"
"--so the next time you accidentally turn the little sunshine dial all the way to black, just give me a call--"
"Donatello Hamato. What a mouthful."
"'Bye, Scott, it's been fun."
"Adios...Donatello."
Raph lunges for him the second the phone is down.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Mike taps me on the shoulder and points them out: three women holding court at a table near the back. One cat, one Lady Godiva and one Egyptian princess. Lady Godiva's talking with a guy in a Superman costume she's obviously not too impressed with, and the other two are just scanning the crowd.
Only the second year we've done this for Halloween and I already know how it's gonna break: the cat girl for Mike, the princess for me, and Lady Godiva-- in that half- transparent bodysuit, she was born for Raphael.
We told Don we'd hit Chelsea if he wanted to, but he said he wanted to stick around in case we got any more kids. I think he might go out later, but he wasn't saying.
Mike's already introduced himself to the cat girl and pulled her onto the dance floor; Raph plonks into the seat she's just vacated and taps Lady Godiva on the shoulder. Guess I oughta get moving.
"Is this seat--"
"Go ahead, sit down," she says, smiling. "I was afraid I wasn't going to get one of my own. Are you the whole set?"
"One brother at home."
"Brothers, no less." She sticks out her hand. "Sheila Johnson. Half African-American, half Jewish-American-Princess. Don't say you weren't warned."
"Leo Hamato," I tell her, sitting down as I shake her hand. "Turtle."
She laughs, a nice laugh, and we start talking.
I don't know what it is, but when you take great caution not to tell someone anything about yourself, they feel this reverse obligation to tell you everything, even the stuff you didn't want to know.
Two martinis, three beers and an orange juice later, we've learned that Maureen-- the cat suit-- and Alexandra/Lady Godiva Rothschild are cousins, Sheila's a college friend visiting from California who got roped in at the last minute, Alex is up from Tennessee trying to get her life together after a really nasty divorce, and Maureen's five months pregnant. She thought about abortion, but decided against it, and made the father of the impending arrival sign a paper giving up all rights in exchange for her not asking for child support. "So that son-of-a-bitch won't come back ten years from now and try to take the kid away from me," she tells her orange juice.
Mike touches her arm reassuringly, and she gives him a dazzling smile.
Damn, they hit it off.
"Oh, this is Patti Smith," Maureen says, "come on."
They get up and we watch them head to the dance floor, hand in hand.
Here I go and I don't know why/I spin so ceaselessly...
"She's not showing yet?"
"Oh, yeah," Alex tells me. "You just don't know what a skinny bitch she usually is."
She looks pretty damn skinny to me, but I'll take her word for it.
"I didn't think they made maternity bodysuits," she continues.
"Oh, they don't," Sheila says, "she sewed that herself."
Raph says, "She sews, Mike cooks...yeah, I can see that."
"Incredible, isn't it?" Alex says.
Sheila puts her chin on her hands. "Love at first sight."
Raph and I just look at each other over the table: the last thing we want to do is watch Mike get his heart broken. But she looks happy too, the two of them look so happy, perfect together...
But she thinks she's dancing with a guy in a turtle costume.
Oh God, I fell for you...
"It's like Romeo and Juliet," Sheila declares.
"Yeah, we all know how well that turned out," Raph growls.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The bouncer sees them both sneak into the handicapped bathroom, but he's stopped six couples from going in already and he's sick of getting in the way of true love. Besides, that guy in the Superman costume's getting pretty drunk: he might decide to try something while he was busy breaking them up.
"I can't kiss you with this..."
"'Salright," she says, propping herself up against the support bar, getting the lock with her shoe. "Shh. If anybody knocks, let me talk, okay?"
She fumbles in her purse, finds the Trojans. They're Alex's, but she felt silly carrying a purse with the Lady Godiva outfit, so they agreed that Maureen would carry everybody's shit in one bag and they'd just divide it up if they needed to. She never figured she'd be the one using the rubbers, but what the hell.
"I don't want you to think I do this all the time," she says, "I mean, I didn't get pregnant like this, I was in a relationship, I don't just go around..."
He stops for a second, looks up at her, right into her eyes it seems to her though she knows she's looking at a mask. "Maureen?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't care."
"Well, I just...just--"
He asks gently, "You think I do this every day?"
"No, that's why I was saying--"
He puts his hand behind her head, pulls her closer. "Shh..."

"Where the hell were you?" Raph asks.
"What are you talking about?"
"You two were gone for like twenty minutes. What was up?"
"We were gone?"
"Mike, you are the world's worst liar. What did we miss?"
"Leo, will you shut him up?"
"I'm pretending you're not even having this conversation."
"Was it rated R? PG-13? NC-17?"
"Raphael..."
"Cut it out, Raph."
He rolls his eyes. "You guys never let me have any fun."
"Be quiet. We'll wake the whole building up."
"C'mon, Leo, it's only three o'clock in the morning..."
"Very funny."
Mike's quiet all the way up the stairs, but when they reach the door he says, "Well. There is one thing."
"What?" Leo asks, turning the key in the lock.
"I think that documentary mighta been right."
He opens the door. "Mike, you didn't do anything stupid, did you?"
"You gotta tell me more than that," Raph says, almost at the same time.
"Shh," Mike tells us. "We'll wake Don up."
They retreat into their room, Raph still grilling him, and Leo locks the door and goes into their room. Don's not in his bed.
Well, some places are open later than that, he thinks. No big deal.
But it still takes him a while to get to sleep.

--END CHAPTER ONE--

Contents are the property of phishtar, with the exception of the Van Halen and Patti Smith quotes, and of course the characters, who are the intellectual property of these guys. If you try to profit from any of this, good luck...you're gonna need it. If you'd like to link to this story, please link to the main page. If you'd like to reproduce this for any reason, email me and we'll talk.