Part 1: Starter

Paris, noon, June 28th, 1999.

Kylie.

Kylie. STOP. I'm traveling to Paris by plane in an hour. STOP.
Sort of in trouble. STOP. Can I crash at your place? STOP. Know it's been long, hope you remember me. STOP. Raphael. STOP. End telegram.

I look at the piece of paper the maitre 'd at the restaurant just gave me. I 'm shocked over this sudden message from Raphael, but also I want to jump to the ceiling. It really has been a long time, and I miss him. How did he know I was in Paris?
I'll have to ask him later. I hastily finish eating, pay for my meal, and rush to the street to get a taxi.

New York, 11:15

Raph

I pull my hat longer down and sneak past the mile-long line of people who are waiting to get their tickets. I grin at the thought that I don't have to stand there.
But, that's right, I forgot-- they get to have comfortable seats while I have to go hiding in the luggage room. My grin fades.
When I'm on the plane, I try to get as much room as possible, and I throw out a couple of bags. Not very nice, but hey, I can't suffocate either.

Boy, it's hot in here. I think about Kylie, to distract me from the fierce heat, but also because there's not that much else on my mind right now than her. I've wondered many times how she felt about me splitting that night.
I wasn't exactly thrilled to death when her ex-boyfriend called. So I just decided to make a bee-line. Nice and easy on the both of us. Okay, maybe easier on her.
Now it's been almost ten years, so I wonder if she remembers me? But who could ever forget making out with a huge turtle?
Then there's always the question of whether she's still seeing that Will guy or not, whoever he was...

The plane takes off, and all hell breaks loose in the baggage room. My roar when a big briefcase smashes my foot is drowned by the much louder roar of the engines.

Well, ready or not, Kylie, here I come.

New York, 18: 05 pm

Don

Donturtle: You are aware of the fact that I'm a giant turtle, right?

Cinnemona: lol. Yes, you've been telling me that for the past three years, ya know.

Donturtle:  ;)

Cinnemona: I'm starting to believe it's true. Heh.

Donturtle: <Don frowns>

Cinnemona: What's wrong, Donny?

Donturtle: Cin, I've gotten to know you very well over these years...given that what you've told me is true! ;op

Cinnemona: It's true. Would I lie for *three* years straight?

Donturtle: What about the "big house with an equally large pool"?

Cinnemona: <blush> OK, *one* lie in *three* years. So sue me! :op

Donturtle: LOL! Thought so.

Cinnemona: Hehe...

Donturtle: Oh, yeah, now I recall what I wanted to ask you...wanna finally meet me?

Cinnemona: Thought you'd never ask, silly! :)

Donturtle: Really wanna meet a big turtle?

Cinnemona: Hee hee! Hey, to me you're the man with a big M.
We have so much in common, we just kinda…*click*, y'know? I would die to meet you, even if you ARE bald.

Donturtle: Gee, thanks. :op

Cinnemona: <smiles> Besides, I love brown eyes...

Donturtle: OK, but you have been warned about the turtle thing...

Cinnemona: <G> I'm shaking, I'm shaking...

Donturtle: Where do you want to meet?

Cinnemona: Well, I'll be in Paris next week...

Donturtle: No prob.

Cinnemona: Yeah, I "forgot" how stinking rich you are.

Donturtle: You're only after my money <sob>

Cinnemona: rotflmao. Are you sure you can afford it?

Donturtle: I do have money to spend, if that's what you mean.

Cinnemona: Mmhmm.

Donturtle: Hey, I'll call you once I get to Paris, and we'll decide where to meet.

Cinnemona: How about you call me the 3rd?

Donturtle: Very well.

Cinnemona: Longing to hear your voice again...

Donturtle: Me too. Don't forget your cell phone! Bye, Paula! :)

Cinnemona: <scary voice> "Don't reveal my name on the net..."

Donturtle: OK. <G> Bye, pumpkin.

Cinnemona: Bye, sweetums!

Donturtle logging off

Cinnemona logging off

I lean back in my chair, gaze at the words glowing on the screen and sigh deeply. I've been talking with this woman for three years, and now where finally going to meet.
I am fully aware how extraordinary stupid this is, but I just got to meet her, if only once. Paula's right about us, we just click.
No one understands me like she does. The question remains, though: Will she understand this too?
My green, reptilian skin gets eyed critically by me.

What will she say? I've been telling her over and over that I'm a turtle, but we both wave it away like it's a joke.
Why in the world would she believe it anyway?
I don't know what she looks like yet, but I think I already love her. Her personality, her voice...
When we first started talking on the phone, I feared she could see right through the line, even though I know she could only hear the sound of my voice. Guess a wave of paranoia just struck me, as it often does.
I sigh again. After a while, I nearly forgot about myself, just listening to her cheerful, soothing voice...
But now-- what will she say when she sees me? Probably scream or something, like the people before her. I droop my chin down on my plastron.

No doubt Master Splinter would've been really angry if he knew what I was gonna do. Aww...fuck it. I'm gonna go. I'm going.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

Paris, 19: 54 pm.

Kylie

"Ding-dong!"

I put Sheila to bed and run down the long marblesteps to answer the door. Pausing in front of the door, I wipe a hasty hand over my hair and then reach for the handle.
There, outside, in the rain, stands Raphael like a ghost from the past. If ghosts wore trenchcoats, that is.
My hand goes up to my mouth, and a muffled "Raph," escapes me before I throw my hands around his neck, hugging him like it's going out of fashion. I hear him chuckle a bit.

"I guess you do remember me, huh?"

I step back from him, and feel a little awkward all of a sudden. "I'm sorry, you-- you just surprised me, that's all..."

"Didn't ya get my message?" he wonders.

"Oh, yeah, I did-- it's just, you caught me by surprise nevertheless," I stammer.

"This place is really incredible," he stares up into the ceiling, which is five metres high.

"Yeah, I inherited this old chateau from my grandparents. My parents insisted on staying in New York, though. So did Will..." I glance quickly at his face to catch his reaction. He looks at me again.

"Oh," he says, trying very hard to conceal a smirk, "you guys broke up?"

"Yup. He didn't..." I stare at my feet, but the old slippers ain't much help, "...he didn't like the idea of becoming a father very much," I glance at him again as the meaning of my words sink in.

"What, you have a kid?" he finally asks, wideeyed.

I mumble a yes, fidgeting with a lock of hair. Now he'll definitely be outta here in about five seconds...

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Ain't I gonna get to see the little critter?"

Smiling-- mostly out of relief-- I take his hand.
I lead him up the marble stairway, and into Sheila's nursery room, where she's sleeping peacefully. Raphael takes off  his dripping wet trenchcoat and hat and lays then over a chair before he moves slowly over to the crib.

He peeks into it, and smiles. Seeing him tugging gently at her little baby fingers which instantly lock around his big, strong forefinger, breaks out a smile on my face, too.
Sheila giggles in her sleep, and I'm pretty sure she'll take a liking to Raph when she wakes up.

Paris, 20:15 pm

Raph

"Sheila's a sweet kid," I comment, honestly.

We're sitting on her couch, watching some old movie. Kylie looks a little older, she's lost that cute, a little childish appearence, but still I recognized her in one second. She's grown up, and she's as pretty as ever.

"Thanks," she replies. Then her facial expression changes from amusement to concern.

"Raph, please tell me why you came here? And how you knew I was in Paris," She demands, and pulls gently at one of my bandanna tails.

God, Paris...still can't believe I'm here...it feels so bizarre to sit her in a frikkin' chateau when you've been living in the sewers for most of your life! And that I'm here with a gorgeous woman only makes it more unbelievable...

I answer the easy one first. " I called your old apartment, and your parents told me where you were,"

"And so you just decided to drop in on me-- in Paris?" Kylie looks very skeptical, but luckily, she isn't angry.

"Let's just say I needed to get away from New York for a while," I say absently and fiddle with a lock of her curly hair.

"Are you in trouble with that, what's it called..." she seems to be scanning her memory from nearly ten years ago. "Foot Clan or whatever?" she finally remembers.

I smell her hair. It smells good.

"Something like that," I nod slowly, "But why I'm here isn't that important right now," I smile at her.

She returns my smile, though wary. "I just don't want any uninvited house guests, ya know? I've got a kid now, remember?"

"Yeah, I know. But that's why I left New York in the first place. So they won't find me. I don't think they'll come to Paris,"
I grin and lean towards her.

"Raph...you been thinking of me these past years?" she asks.

All the time, Kylie. "Yeah," I nod. No use lying about that. "How 'bout you?"

"Yeah, me too...you're kinda hard to forget, you know."

I turn my head away from her. Great, just great. So that's why she remembers me! So, she didn't forget the odd, green freak of a guy who--

"Raph,"

"What?"

Kylie flashes me her most beautiful smile and props her legs over my lap.

"Kylie--"

I hold her in my arms and she gently slides her soft hands around my neck.
God, how I've missed this for the last ten years. We kiss, and sink deeper into the couch.

Paris, 20:05 pm, July 3rd, 1999

Paula

This is the day I'm supposed to meet him. Shit, am I ever nervous!

"Does my hair look okay?" I ask my older brother anxiously for what seems like the hundreth time today.
You would think a 26 year old woman could stop acting like a teenager, but I'm just too damn nervous.

"Are you sure?" I pester him again, and I'm sure he's gonna blow a fuse. But he just rolls his eyes and stalks into the kitchen.
My brother is indeed lucky to have a place in Paris...but then again, as his sister, I can visit every holiday. Whopee!

Don seemed even more nervous on the phone than I am in my present state. He was stammering and often fell silent.
He must've been thinking. I'm just crossing my fingers in hope that he's not too nervous to show. I've been wanting to meet him ever since I found out we both read "The Wind In The Willows," at the age of five.

Now, what does he look like? That's about the only thing we don't know about each other. He said he's bald, which seems odd or even unlikely to me since he's the same age as me. A 26 year old man who's bald?
Well, maybe he's shaved his head...
Another thing he kept saying, bothers me. He says he's a giant turtle!
Either he's a nutcase, or he just doesn't know when a joke's not funny anymore. Either reason isn't exactly very positive.
But my sense of adventure has chosen another one of those rare moments to act up again, so I'm gonna go for it...

My wrist watch tells me something I feared. Hell, I'm late! I'm supposed to meet him for dinner at 20:30! Better get going.
Straighten dress, pick up coat, get out door...now!
I've been trying to figure out how to recognize him, but as he said; "You'll just know."

An emergency plan is to just look for a pair of brown eyes and a bald head...

Paris, 20:32 pm

Don

Peeking out from the alley, pressing myself up against a wall, I see an ocean of people, but no one fits the descriptions Paula gave to me.
My watch says it's 20:32 pm. Man... she's late! Then I slap my forehead and frown at myself.

"Donny, she's only two minutes late! Calm down for cripes sake..."

I peek out again, and then I see her. It's gotta be her.

She's leaning against the fence outside the restaurant, scanning the crowd with her eyes, looking a little nervous, fingering with a silver necklace hanging around her neck... she's got the long, brown hair and the grey eyes she said she would have, and she's wearing that red dress she mentioned she would wear tonight.
It just has to be her. It just has to.

"Psst, Paula!" I whisper. She's doesn't hear it. I gulp down a confidence-wrecking lump in my throat.
"Psst! Paula!!" I whisper, this time with a tad more volume.
She turns her head slightly in the direction of the alley. I whisper her name again. She starts to move hesitantly towards me.
I pull my trenchcoat closer around me, knowing that I can't let her see me here, not in the crowd, in case she would scream.

"Excuse me, are you Donny?" she questions politely.

Phew, it is her! It's the right voice, and she knows my name.

I nod ecstatically. "Yeah, it's me,"

"Great to finally meet you! Come on, or we'll loose our table," she says brightly and waves her thumb for the restaurant.

I swallow once more. "Paula, would you mind coming with me for a second?" I try to sound casual and relaxed, but my head is throbbing with thoughts of detection and captivation. What if anyone sees me? I've gotta get out of here.

"Why? Don't you like Antoine's?"

I just look at her helplessly. How can I get her to come with me?
Then I see something in her eyes I didn't expect. Understanding. I give her another pleeding look.

"Sure," she says.

Don and Paula in the alley, by Donna (GreenWilloW)

Paris, 20:45 pm

Paula

Don has taken me to a hotel room. What is he up to? Why is he hiding his face?
If only it wasn’t so dark, then I could see...and most importantly, why the hell did I follow him? I just...I got a feeling that he needed to get away without me asking to many questions. I hope he won’t wait much longer to explain everything to me.
Hope he’s not a lunatic.
Goose bumps run down my back of this thought, and I shiver. Don gives me a quick glance before unlocking the hotel room door.

Once we’re inside, he's about to lock the door behind us, but I put my hand on his shoulder and shake my head no.
I’m not about to be trapped in this room. I can feel bulging muscles through the trenchcoat fabric, and I shudder again.
This guy can easily kill me...if he wants to. Or do whatever else he'd like to me. Another flash of anxiety crosses my brain, and I feel like the most gullable person on earth.

I have to stop being so paranoid. Don is becoming uneasy because of my own fear-- anyone would see that. And uneasiness can lead to rash decisions....

”Paula,” he begins, but his voice is so hoarse that he has to clear his throat. ”I can tell that you’re afraid, but trust me, I would never hurt you. We’ve been talking for tree years, and we finally decided to meet... I must admit that I’m not disappointed,” he pauses, discretely looks me over, and I give him an extremely cautious smile, feeling obligated to respond to this somehow.

"But you must be...” he turns away, ”or you will be, disappointed.”

He turns around again, facing me. He lets the trenchcoat drop to the floor.
I open my mouth in protest. Who is this guy? A flasher? But suddenly I realize that he hasn’t been lying all these years.
He has been preparing me.

Before me stands, as he said he was, a giant turtle. Not quite an animal-- no, much closer to a human being.
His intelligent, brown eyes are darting from mine to the floor, his hands are fidgeting nervously-- he’s clearly awaiting my reaction. My scientific side wants to ask what he is, what species.
But my heart-- or that's what they say one's softer feelings come from, anyway-- my heart sees that all he needs right now is some understanding. This is the smart, sensitive guy I’ve been talking to for so long, not a bloody research subject!
Besides, curiousity has its firm grip on me.

I carefully move closer to him, reach out and remove the hat from his head. This reveals a hairless scalp and a high brow.
I find myself almost surpressing a giggle. He told the truth about him being bald, alright!

”So, Don...” I say, breaking the tension that was about to build up, ”I guess I should’ve listened to you, huh? I thought you were joking,”

Don breathes out in relief, which startles me a little. I decide to put my hand on his shoulder to let him know I’m really not that afraid, just incredibly taken off guard.

”I confess I kinda let you think it was a joke, too,” Don seems to deflate as he heavily sits on the bed.

”You thought I would scream when I saw you, right?” I ask softly.

”That’s not unusual,” he bows his head and scratches his neck.

Besides from most of his appearance, he is, well... human. His movements, his eyes, his voice, his language. Although he hasn't got any visible ears, he's even got fingers, toes, and teeth, unlike ordinary turtles, and his arms and legs are also very humanoid. My brain is bursting with questions, and I have to ask.

”Don...excuse me for asking you this, but what are you?”

He raises his head and looks at me with a weak smile.

”Well, I think the story begins with a little boy who bought four box turtles one day, about 25 or 26 years ago..."

Paris, 11:37 am , July 4th, 1999

Kylie

I’m up making lunch-- or in my case, breakfast-- while Raph is still lying in bed, snoring lightly.
We are alike on that point, Raph and me. We're only morning people when we have to be, and right now I have to feed Sheila, who's been demanding my attention since 06:27 am. Sometimes it’s exhausting to have a child, but, you know, it’s all worth it in the long run. Will didn’t seem to get that there’s not only negative sides to having a baby.

All he saw the baby as was a restraint on him, stopping him from doing as he pleased. Guess he wasn’t ready to be a father yet, wasn’t finished ”living the life”. Which meant kidding around-- with both money and women-- getting drunk, just for the heck of it. Taking no consequenses for his actions, because in his opinion, he had nothing to lose. Too late did he understand that he actually had something to loose. Me.
So I left for France. Smartest thing I ever did.

Raphael-- is he ready to be a father? He seems to like Sheila, either way. But how long will he stay? He isn’t very domestic. He’s more of a adventurer, a loner...
But, hey, I can’t stay in one spot too long, either!
This gigantic marble house is already putting me off. It’s a little big for three people. And it costs a fortune to retain, a fortune which I would like to spend on something else.

Sheila starts crying. I must’ve forgotten about feeding her, my thoughts have been trailing off...
I scoop up a spoon of porridge and put it into her mouth. She makes containt little gurgling noises. Then she starts waving activily and laughs, looking at something behind me.

I glance behind me, and Raph is leaning on the doorframe, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

”Who put on the fire alarm?” Raph smiles sleepily and walks into the kitchen.

”Good morning, sleepy head,” I say softly and giggle when he nuzzles my neck.

”Would you like to feed her?” I suggest.

"Me?" he looks surprised,  "I dunno, Kylie..."

"Oh, come on,"

"I'm not really used to this kinda stuff..."

"It'll be fine,"

He grabs the spoon and touches the tip of Sheila’s nose with it. She giggles happily. He smirks. Then he fills the spoon with porridge and offers it to Sheila.
She presses her tiny little lips together and shake her head.

Raph grins michieviously.

”Here comes the choo-choo,” He says in a silly voice, and when Sheila laughs, he plops the porridge into her mouth.
He turns and smirks at me.

”Hey, I’m pretty good, ain’t I?” He asks proudly.

I nod, and nudge him playfully. "You're a natural,"  This beats watching TV anyday.

Don

I wake up in a hotel room, my back aching from sleeping in a chair all night long.
I look at Paula, who’s still sleeping on the big, soft bed. I should know it's soft, because I was sleeping in it last night, before I met up with her.
She took my appearences pretty well, maybe due to her scientific interests, and the fact that we’ve been talking for three straight years. She knew I really wasn’t dangerous. Maybe at first she thought I were, but who knows?
The tale of our mutation got her attention quite thoroughly, and we stayed up all night talking. She wasn’t too surprised to find out that there were more of us than me.

”You wouldn’t have had much of a personality if you’d lived in solitude all these years,” as she said.

I can’t help but to like that woman, and her logic.
Just a thought; I wonder what she would do if I went over there and caressed her face?
She’s so beautiful that I just wanna-- I shake my head and move to the coffee machine.
This isn’t such a crappy hotel, it’s fairly okay, so they do have a coffee machine in every room. Soon, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the room, which I breathe in deeply. Paula lifts her upper body from the bed and throws the sheets aside.

First, she looks puzzled to see me, but as she remembers last night's events, she gives me a careful smile. She raises her nose and snifs the aroma.

”Oh, great! Coffee,” she yawns and stretches out her arms over her head. ”Do you drink coffee?” I ask as Paula puts her hands down and yawns again.

”Who doesn’t?”she finally says, while strangling a yawn.

I chuckle as she gets out of the bed, and I pour her a cup of coffee, which she takes with gratitude. We drink in silence, glancing occasionally at each other over the brim of the cups. I slam my cup down on the empty spot beside the coffee machine.

”So, what do you wanna do today?” I say cheerfully, wondering why I expect her to stay with me.

Surprisingly, she doesn't make up some excuse to leave. ”How about we take a little tour of Paris’ dark side?” she says with a mock scary voice.

”And that would be...?” I make a hand gesture for her to go on.

”The countryside,” Paula says and snickers.

I snort, and she laughs. ”That’s were all the wine comes from, you know,” she informs me, ”so maybe there’s some heavy boozing out there,” she grimaces at her own attempt at a joke. ”That wasn’t funny at all,” she admits, "guess I'm not a barrel o' laughs when I've just woke up,"

”But I still want to go out there,” she persists, ”We could make a little basket,  just a little fair-sized basket, an ordinary biggish sort of basket, full of...” she giggles, and I recognize the quote from Winnie The Pooh, ”We would just lie out in a field some place and look at the sky.” she clicks her tongue and turns to me with a little sterner look.

”I’m having my summer vacation now, and I have to do something fun and relaxing, or it will be a total waste,” she sighs and rubs her forehead, ”my job is little stressing, you see,” she finishes with a glance between her fingers at me.

”I know, you’ve told me,” I nod. It would be lovely to just lay in a field...the weather’s right for it too. But--

”Are there many people out there?” I ask concerned.

”It’s a bloody field, so I would say no-- we could probably find a fairly deserted spot. I’ve been in Paris a lot, you know, since my brother lives here-- yeah, I’ve told you about all that. The countryside is nearly empty, beside from the passing cars and busses. Maybe some farm workers here and there, and a few rich families who lives in the chateaus out there.
Wait, there’s this one farm I know, I think maybe-- yeah-- they have the day off, let’s head out there right now!” She pulls at my arm.

I shrug hesitantly, ”Now? Um, why not?” I smile at her.

Paula puts on her coat, winks at me and runs out the door. I hear her shout from the hallway.
"Be right back, just gotta buy something edible,"

I close the door, make sure to lock it, and drop down on the bed, sighing, gazing up in the ceiling.
She seems very ecstatic.
But, if I had a job like hers, maybe I would be this hyper and happy when I finally got on my summer holiday. If I had a real job at all...
What makes me suddenly want to go out on a field, by the way?

Paris, 12:56 pm

Paula

Aahh, the fresh air on the countryside.
The cars keep whistling by, the sky is blue, the sun is shining, Bob Dylan's on the car radio, and next to me sits a giant turtle. Life is sweet. Heh. I laugh to myself.  Don shifts in his seat, and looks at me with askance.

"Oh, it's silly, really. It's only a thought that went to mind. Since my mother had problems with me dating that black guy, I wonder what she'll say now,"

I giggle and study his face. His eyes are a little wider and his mouth has opened some, as if he's going to say something.
He shuts it.
Then I blink once or twice. Uh oh-- did I just say 'dating'? Hmm, better think of changing the subject...and quick!

"Um, so, do you drive?" I say, brightly. To my ears, too brightly.

Am I stupid or what? Great subject...

"Yeah, I drive," he says casually.

I bite my lip and frown. So he does, does he?
Why shouldn't he? I mean, he is a wiz with computers and he's really smart, so why shouldn't he be able to drive?
He probably learned it by himself, too...I run my tongue over my upper teeth.

"Take the wheel," I grin mischeviously while I wonder what has gotten into me lately-- not to mention what the hell's getting into me right now in this car.

"Now?" he asks surprised.

"Yeah, now."

Suddenly I let go of the wheel, and the car isn't exactly what I would call balanced anymore.
Don yelps and lunges after the wheel, leaning over me. Soon he gets control over the car again, and I find myself stroking the top of his head, giggling loudly, "Sorry, I don't know what the hell is wrong with me! I've almost never had a single impulse in my life,"

"Followed your brain all your life, yeah?" he leans into his seat again.

I make a sound of agreement. "Me too," he says understandingly. For a few moments, nothing else than Bob Dylan makes it's way into my mind.

When we reach the farm, we discover the area is absolutely cleared of people. We see a gigantic marble chateau on the other side of the road, but it doesn't look like there's anybody home. Bringing the basket, I drag Don into the middle of the field, wading through the tall oat plants that softly go "swish swoosh," against our skin, tickling our legs.
We sprawl out on a blanket and open the basket. I pull out a bottle of wine and hold it triumphantly over my head.
"Taa-daa," I fanfare.
"Say, my dearest Donatello," I say in a fake british accent, "Have you ever gotten drunk in a field before?"

Don chuckles, "No,"

I smile an innocent smile, " Neither have I, but there's a first of everything, right?" I pour him a glass of wine.

"And there's more where that came from," I whisper and pull up two other bottles.

Yes, there's obviously something seriously wrong with me...
 
 

Paris, 14:27 pm

Raph

Now I've been staying here with Kylie for almost a week, a marvellous week, so it's time to make myself useful, not just leech off of her and wake up at nearly dinnertime. I think she may have understood that I was tired, though. She hasn't mentioned it, at least...
She's like that, Kylie. Not stressing to be perfect, she's cool, and that's what makes a person perfect by my book.
Now I'm taking care of Sheila for a few hours, but if the other guys saw me playing with a baby...geez!
Then I'd never see an end of their teasing and taunting...or perhaps they've changed? I wouldn't know anymore, it's been so long...maybe I should call them?

I'm about to take Sheila for her bath so Kylie can get some rest, but then two moving objects catch my eye, through the giant glass window in the livingroom.
There are some loonies in the big field across the road, running and yelling and laughing their asses off. Most definitely drunk.

I've seen types like that before. But that's not what's odd about them. It's the guy, that guy over there, he seems so familiar, so oddly familiar.
Then I realize where I’ve seen him before, and I hurry downstairs to Kylie.

"Kylie, ya gotta come see this,"

Paris, 14:30 pm

Kylie

Raph and I are standing outside my chateau, Raph holding Sheila.
We can't believe our own eyes.
I turn to Raph. "Raph, is that who I think it is?" I ask.

He nods solemly. "Why the hell is he here?" I wave my hand at the drunks, who haven't noticed us.

"I dunno, but I'm about to find out," he mumbles and hands Sheila to me.

He walks so fast towards the field that I can hardly keep up with him, especially since I'm still clinging onto Sheila.
When we get over to them, they are lying in a close embrace, making out and giggling like teenagers. How much have they had to drink? Raph is blushing, but he gives the guy a searing look.

"Don," he says and coughs to get their attention.

Don rolls over and gazes up at Raph. "Man, what does a guy hafta do to get a little privacy?" he says irritably.
”Yeah,” the girl lying next to him nods.

"Don!" Raph explodes, " What the hell are ya doing out here, lying drunk in the middle of a friggin field, where anybody can see you?"

Don grins sheepishly, "You don't know either?"

Paris, 15: 05 pm

Raph

I can't believe my brother! Hey, it's nice he's got a girl and all, but he oughta know better than to expose himself like that. Sheesh!
If we were human, I wouldn't even have given him a strict look, cause I ain't his mother! But we're not human. He could've walked straight into the middle of the road and ended his days as a research subject! Or roadkill, whichever came first.
What made him do this anyway? He should’ve known better. He always did...

Paris, 02:30 am

Don

Oww...my head hurts. I feel like barfing.
If I feel this lousy, how must Paula feel? She drank far more than I did.
Heh heh... Raph sure was pissed. I’m a little ashamed, though. What if I got discovered? He was right, I should’ve been more careful. Something made me...act on impulse. For once. And I’m sure it was Paula.

I tip-toe past Kylie and Raphael’s bedroom and past Sheila’s nursery room.
I have to talk to Paula. We actually kissed on that field. I don’t remember it all, because I was somewhat drunk-- okay, very drunk-- but I’m sure we kissed. I carefully push the door to her room open. She’s sitting on the egde of her bed, leaning forward, clutching her stomach. I hurry over and sit on the bed next to her.

”Paula, are you okay?” I ask concerned.

She moans and looks at me. Her face is pale and her brow is covered with little beads of sweat. Daring to stroke her hair quite gently, I manage to muster up half a smile, ”You don’t look too good,”

”You don’t look too good yourself,” she retorts, and smiles weakly. She’s right. I feel like shit.

”Want to join me in the bathroom?” I whisper and point towards the hall.

She nods and leans against me, and we stumble to the bathroom together.
Once we’re in the bathroom, Paula get’s an alarming expression on her face, throws her hand against her mouth and lunges for the toilet.

Uh oh. I know what’s coming now. It’s very understandable, and I think I might have to do the the same, once she’s finished. After a moment, Paula wipes her mouth, coughs and leans against the bathtub.
”Oh, my aching head! I’m never gonna drink again. Ever. Impulse sucks,” she groans.

I sway for a while, frown, and then put my hands on the brim of the toilet and puke so hard I almost fall in. I drop down on the floor in a sitting position.
”I hear ya, Paula. Never again. I’m sticking to coffee,” I pant.

”Now that these uncomfortabilities are over with, do you mind telling me what happened on that field?” she says.

”I was kinda wondering that myself,” I reply.

”Well, my version is that we were drinking, then we were running around, and the next thing I knew, we were uhm, kissing, and suddenly that brother of yours...” Paula shrugs at me.

”Raphael,” I remind her.

”Yeah, and then Raphael came and yelled at you,” she finishes.

We sit in silence for a while, and suddenly we crack our knuckles at the same time. I stare wideeyed at her. How can such tiny knuckles make such a sound? She stares back, and we both grin.

”That was...weird,” she states.

”Mmhhmm,” I agree.

We glance at each other. ”Paula?” I ask, ”Were you very drunk-- I mean, did you know what you were doing?”

She cocks her head to one side, and her long, brown hair lands on the bathtub brim.
”I don’t know, I-- we both were a little drunk, the weather was so nice and-- but you, I...,” Paula obviously don’t know what to answer, as she's stumbling in her own words. She lowers her head into her lap.

I bite my lip and scratch my neck. When I look up, in the end, I realize that Paula has fallen asleep.

10:30 am, July 5th, 1999

Paula

I slowly open my eyes and see daylight coming in through the bedroom window.
Am I back in my bed? How did I get here? Don must’ve carried me...
I walk down the hall and enter the bathroom. Remembering what happened last night, I giggle and shake my head a little.
We were really drunk. And really sick. Seeing a turtle barf is quite a new experience to me!
I turn the faucet on and splash some water into my face. That helped a little, I feel more refreshed. But just thinking about breakfast makes me nauseous.

I just need a big, steaming cup of joe.
Nothing else.
I decide to go see the other residents of this house. I was too sick to say hello to them yesterday. I only vaguely remember Don’s brother, Raphael.
Putting on a robe I found in the bathroom, I step down the long marble stairs.

”Um, hello?” I call out, poking my head in every other direction.”Anybody home?”

”Yes, we’re down here in the kitchen, ehm, uh... Paula!”

A womans voice suddenly echoes through the great house. She seems to have just remembered my name. I walk in the direction where the sound came from, entering a big, shiny kitchen, with black and white tiles everywhere.
A young woman sitting on a kitchen chair, holding a baby in her arms, looks up at me curiously when I come in.

”Hey. Your name is Paula, right?” she asks, ”You see, um, Don was so soaked yesterday that we really can’t rely fully on what he said about you,” she gives me an excusing smile, and puts a spoonful of baby food into the baby’s mouth.

I grab a chair and sit down on the other side of the table.

”Yes, I’m Paula. And you are…?”
She wipes her hand on her blue jeans and shakes hands with me.
”Hi, I’m Kylie. Nice meeting you, Paula,” she says, staring expectantly at me.

In the end I smile nervously, ”What?”

”You’re the first one I can talk about this to!” she cheers, looking greatly relieved.

”And with ’this’, you mean exactly what?” I look questioningly at her.

She nudges me conspiratorily, ”You know! The whole turtle thing. I’ve never told anyone,” she gives the baby another spoon of baby food.

”I understand why,” I say, ”no one would have believed you if they didn’t see it with their own eyes,”
She mumbles some words of agreement.

”Is that your baby?”

”Yes, she’s mine. Her name’s Sheila,” she strokes the baby’s hair. Sheila giggles, making me smile. She’s a really cute baby.

”So, when did you meet Don?” Kylie suddenly says.

”The day before yesterday,” I absently gaze at the black and white tiles.

”So, you’re not really in a relationship?”

”I wouldn’t say we are-- the thing is, we’ve been mailing to each other and talking on the phone for three years, so we kinda knew each other, but I haven’t met him before now and I didn’t know that--”

”That he was a giant turtle?” Kylie nods understandingly. I bark out in laughter at her bluntness, but quiet myself quickly.

”Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare the baby,” I appologize.
”It’s just that in a way, I actually knew he was a turtle,” I continue, ”because he kept telling me over and over and over, but it sounded like a joke,” I put my head in my hands.

Kylie has been listening in silence, but know she says, ”Oh. So he didn’t rescue you or something like Raphael did to me?” she tickles Sheila’s chin.
I giggle, ”No, he didn’t.” then I add to myself, ”What would he rescue me from, a boring job?”

”So, Raphael rescued you, huh?” I glance at the baby. ”The baby isn’t his, is it?” I blurt out.

Kylie shakes her head.”Then Sheila would be green, don’t you think?”
I laugh again. Kylie sure has a direct way of saying things.

Kylie puts her hand on my shoulder. ”Paula, you don’t know how good it feels to finally have someone to talk about these things with, ” she smiles gratefully.

”Glad to be a help,” I grin. ”there’s some more things I’m wondering, but first…”

”Yes? What?”

”Where do you keep the coffee around here?”

10:50 am

Kylie

I never did understand coffee drinkers, but since there’s so many of them, I keep coffee in the house anyway. Right now I’m pouring a cup of the black stuff to the woman who came in the company of Don-- namely Paula.
She seems pretty nice, and I’m glad for Don. If there is something between them, that is... I couldn’t tell if they were serious out on that field, because of their drunken state. I’ll just wait and see how they act when they’re together. I can spot a crush about a mile away...

”By the way, Kylie,” Paula says now, ”did I say anything to offend you yesterday? I mean, since I was drunk and all…I can’t remember you from yesterday, though,”

I smile reassuringly, ”No, you didn’t. But to Raph…” I giggle wickedly, ”Well, that’s a different story,”

Paula gasps, ”Oh no, what did I say?”

I pick Sheila up from the baby chair and place her in my lap. ”Let’s just say that you used the words ’giant cucumber’ more than once,”

Paula frowns and sips her coffee. ”Really? Did I say those stupid things?”
I nod and stick the pacifier on the milk bottle carefully into Sheila’s mouth. She sucks on it hungrily, making little breathing sounds.

”Where is Raph now, anyway? And Don?” Paula asks.

”Oh, them?” I shrug, ”They’re probably somewhere sparring, I guess,” I return my attention to Sheila.

”Sparring?” Paula looks at me questioningly.

”You don’t know what sparring is?” I stare at her with a incredilous look.

”Yes, but--”

"Haven’t you been talking to Don for three years?”

”Yeah, but he’s never mentioned sparring,”

”You mean you don’t know that he’s a ninja? He did tell you everything about the mutation and stuff, right?” I stare at her
even harder. Hasn’t Don told her about it?

”Yes, he did, but nothing about him being a ninja…” Paula frowns and gazes at the black and white tile floor.

11:05 am

Raph

”So... You've got yourself a girl now, little bro'?” I tease Don, ” Never thought it was gonna happen,” I make a low kick to knock him off his feet, but he leaps away.

”She’s not exactly my girl, I…” Don says irritably and swings his bo at me. I block it with a sai.

”Oh no? Then what were ya doin' in that field? Givin' CPR? ” I grin as he tries to punch me.

”Hey, we were drunk, OK?” He says defensively and ducks my fist, ”You can’t count what happened as anything,”

”I count what I want,” I kick for his stomach, but he grabs my foot, ”But seriously-- you like her, right?” I ask with a smirk,
and poke his shoulder with my sai.

"Yeah,” he says and pushes my foot from himself, making me stumble backwards.

"That's what I thought," I nod, after I've regained my balance.

Don circles around me, his bo pointing at me.

"But I...I'm not sure if anything's gonna happen, y'know-- between us? After all, she's a human,"

Don grips his bo like a baseballbat and swings it at me.
I duck and then finally trip him with that low kick I tried earlier. He must have a lot on his mind. I help him to his feet.

"What about Kylie and me, then? She's a human,"

Don just shrugs and seems to gaze right through me. But he knows I have a point.

"When In Rome..." Part 2: Strangers
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Thanks to GreenWilloW and Sunnanvind for the lovely pictures on "Starter".
Love, Lola