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Aug. 7th, 2004
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Aug. 7th, 2004 09:03 pmYou'd think he'd be used to it by now, living with another person. At one point he was living with his brothers, Splinter, April and Casey under one roof, and yet none of those other sewer homes, farms, or apartments have prepared him for sharing a studio oneman tent with Fleur. It is truly a bizzare experience. He could tell she was keeping to his request for friendship only. She wasn't intentionally being seductive, but she still was. It was in everything she did. He's not sure how she manages it, but she even makes brushing her teeth look sexy. And that's another thing, he never found anything sexy before. He wasn't sure if this was a Turtle thing, or if it was just a Raph thing. It's not like he and his brothers ever sat around oggling women. Well, Mike did, but that's a whole different story all together.
He just didn't know what to do with her. She looked in need of comfort, but he had no idea how to provide. Does she want a hug now? Do I hold her hand? He has no clue what to do with a hysterical woman. When the antique store burned around them and April was a wreck, there were so many other things to be concerned about besides drying a few tears. And when they were safe, Casey and Don were there to be supportive. This was just not his thing.
And now that she was in control of herself, and seemingly okay, he was even more clueless. She just made herself right at home. He'd return to the tent to find her lounging about in various stages of undress, completely at ease with her surroundings. To Raph, this is just the damnedest thing. It's not that he's unhappy to have her around, it was slowly turning to quite the opposite. She is as honest and blunt as Raph is. If he picks on her, she returns it ten fold. It's what Raph imagines living in a sit-com is like.
Then there was this morning. When he first brought her to the roof, it was an unspoken understanding. She, being the woman in distress, got the bed. Raph, being the hero, took the floor. Wasn't a big deal really, he'd slept in worse places. Everything went according to the time honored plan for the first three nights. The third morning, things were a bit different. He woke up aware that something was different. Warmer. The portion of his brain that revels in sleeping late just chaulked it up to the new warm blooded thing, but the trained portion knew something was different, and different can mean death. The two reached a compromise, they'd run a sleepy diagnostic check. No use waking up if it's just a pillow shift. He remembers spending an afternoon trying to recapture all the feathers that had escaped a pillow he mistook to be an enemy.
Okay, pillow under head. Check
Blanket not dangerously arranged. Check
Not hanging out naked from under blanket. Check.
Female body cuddling back, with arm draped over hip. Check.
....
Wait, that's new.
He just didn't know what to do with her. She looked in need of comfort, but he had no idea how to provide. Does she want a hug now? Do I hold her hand? He has no clue what to do with a hysterical woman. When the antique store burned around them and April was a wreck, there were so many other things to be concerned about besides drying a few tears. And when they were safe, Casey and Don were there to be supportive. This was just not his thing.
And now that she was in control of herself, and seemingly okay, he was even more clueless. She just made herself right at home. He'd return to the tent to find her lounging about in various stages of undress, completely at ease with her surroundings. To Raph, this is just the damnedest thing. It's not that he's unhappy to have her around, it was slowly turning to quite the opposite. She is as honest and blunt as Raph is. If he picks on her, she returns it ten fold. It's what Raph imagines living in a sit-com is like.
Then there was this morning. When he first brought her to the roof, it was an unspoken understanding. She, being the woman in distress, got the bed. Raph, being the hero, took the floor. Wasn't a big deal really, he'd slept in worse places. Everything went according to the time honored plan for the first three nights. The third morning, things were a bit different. He woke up aware that something was different. Warmer. The portion of his brain that revels in sleeping late just chaulked it up to the new warm blooded thing, but the trained portion knew something was different, and different can mean death. The two reached a compromise, they'd run a sleepy diagnostic check. No use waking up if it's just a pillow shift. He remembers spending an afternoon trying to recapture all the feathers that had escaped a pillow he mistook to be an enemy.
Okay, pillow under head. Check
Blanket not dangerously arranged. Check
Not hanging out naked from under blanket. Check.
Female body cuddling back, with arm draped over hip. Check.
....
Wait, that's new.