"Hey, we didn't order any pizza!" Michelangelo grinned.

"And that is not something I ever thought I'd hear you say, Mikey," said Leonardo.

"Yeah... I wonder if it means something."

"Probably just a phase," offered Donatello. "You are an adolescent."

"I'm an adowhatolescent?" Michelangelo replied. "Well, you're a... dorkolescent." Donatello looked at him for a moment, and then with only a slight movement slapped him on the arm with his staff. "Ow!"

Raphael rolled over the wall in an elegant motion, stood up and strode toward the approaching motorcycle as the rider gradually drew to a halt. "Raph! Will you get back here!?" called Leo, stepping out into the open. Why not? Their secrecy was blown now anyway. He racked his brains for a cover story - Mascots...? Nah.

"Relax, Leo! Nobody's gonna believe this guy." Raphael gestured toward the bike. "I'm curious, that's all."

"What's the matter, ain't you ever seen four giant Turtles practicing martial arts before?" Grinning, Michelangelo stuck his head over the wall and rested it on his clasped hands Laverne & Shirley style.

"Hardly, Mikey," Donatello replied. "Four is very unusual. Three or even five is so much more common." He waved. "Don't be alarmed. We mean you no harm."

The engine noise cut out, and all four Turtles' eyes were drawn to the movement as a booted foot touched the ground. Up... Black leather jeans clung tightly to well-toned thighs and calves, almost mirrorlike in their shininess. A sturdy black leather jacket, zipped up. The hands that began unfastening the protective helmet wore black leather gloves to complete the anomymizing ensemble.

"Guys," Michelangelo said thoughtfully as he approached, peering closely, "I don't think this guy is actually, you know, a guy." Nodding as if to confirm his diagnosis, he grinned as the new arrival responded with a thumbs up.

The rider got off the bike nimbly, somehow turning out smaller and slighter than the Turtles were expecting, and stood with arms folded and head cocked slightly in... Was it amusement? Not shock, not disbelief, and certainly not fear. The rider found them funny? "Hey, wasn't that bike Casey's?" Leonardo pondered.

"Yeah," said April, removing the helmet, the long dark hair that might have given them a clue tucked under the upturned collar of her jacket. "And it still would be if he'd gotten it back from the pawn shop instead'a me." They clustered around her excitedly. "Hi, guys!"

"Hi, April," said Donatello. "Suziquatrotastic."

"Hi, Donny. Uh, thanks?" Handing the helmet to Michelangelo, April watched indulgently as he looked at it for a moment before trying unsuccessfully to fit it on his own head. "Definitely not a guy, Mikey. Well spotted." He shrugged bashfully, and left the helmet hanging on one of the bike's handlebars.

"Suziquatrotastic?" Raphael murmured skeptically. Donatello shrugged diffidently, standing by his made-up adjective.

"Yeah, April, nice outfit," remarked Leonardo politely. "Very shiny."

"Leather city," said Michelangelo admiringly.

"No, actually," April teased. "Kitty's, the store for the discerning lady biker... It's just around the corner from Leather City." She turned slightly to include the others. "Hey, you know, when you're a celebrity, going incognito isn't so easy, But then, you guys would know all about that." Realizing something, she turned to Donatello again. "Hey, Donny, you got your voice back! You sound like your old self!"

"Yeah," said Donatello casually. "Turned out it was laryngitis."

"We never even knew he had a larynge," said Michelangelo, adding innocently, "Hey, where did Casey go, anyway?"

Raphael glanced at him, appalled, and slapped a hand over his eyes.

"Mikey, you know we don't talk about that," Leonardo admonished, shaking his head. "Not when..." Tailing off, he indicated April with subtle sideways movements of his head, stopping abruptly when she turned to look at him.

"It's OK, Leo, really," April assured him, holding up a hand and starting to ease off her gloves. "We both needed some space for a while..." she recited, her words sounding very well-rehearsed.

"Did it have to be this much space...?" Raphael asked moodily.

"I told him he needed to grow up a little..." April pursed her lips, scrunching the gloves and lightly tapping them against her other hand. "OK, a lot."

"That's a big ask," said Mikey.

"And you know, according to him, I've changed," she added scathingly, slapping the gloves down on the bike's handlebars and folding her arms. "Hey, get this - I'm a different person."

"Metatextual," said Donatello, and the others gave him a curious look.

"It'll be fine," said Raphael gruffly, uncomfortable.

"Hiii, Raph," said April playfully, skipping over to adjust the trailing ends of his red bandana. "You doing OK? Had, um, any solo adventures lately?" She raised an eyebrow. "Anything you wanna share?"

"Well, I suppose-" Raphael began cautiously and a little suspiciously, but Leonardo interrupted.

"-Hey, not that it isn't nice to see you, April-"

"-It's aaalways nice to see Aaaapril..." Michelangelo drawled, sidling up and snuggling against her, head on her shoulder. Laughing, she pushed him away, but held onto his arm.

-"But you've got a reason for coming out here, haven't you?" Leo continued, concerned. "Is something wrong?"

There was a pause before April replied, and in that pause the whole mood changed. "It's Splinter," she told them. "He sent me to find you guys."

***

The reunion was being watched. "Well? What did you see?"

"It's them. It's, uh, actually them."

"Finally."

***

"It sounds like he's had one of his premonitions," Leonardo said uneasily.

"Look, guys, I'm just going to... Could it be him? I mean, is the Shredder back...?" Perched on the wall they had hidden behind, the Turtles gathered around facing her, April's hands slapped down onto leather-encased knees as she shifted apprehensively. "I mean the Foot are still around, I've seen them." She turned to Leonardo, almost startled, as he spoke again.

"Nuh-uh. The Shredder's dead," he said flatly. The Turtles shivered, but as one nodded their agreement. "We checked."

"Wait," said Raphael. "With all that mutagen in his system, can we be sure the Shredder was even human? Could he have come back to life? Maybe some crazy Professor stole his body and..." He tailed off, embarrassed.

"Yeah, Raph, or maybe he's a werewolf," Donatello mocked, earning a bad-tempered glare.

"Will you just settle down? The Shredder is dead. Let's not get carried away here," said Leonardo. "But you know, whatever is wrong, we'd better head back."

"What do you think, Mikey?" Donatello had noticed his brother's preoccupied air, and the others looked at Michelangelo curiously. Had he some thought that might help them make sense of this?

"Uh... Definitely extra pepperoni. Back to basic," said Michelangelo. They all looked at him blankly. "You know. Our first pizza, when we get back." When puzzled silence greeted him, he explained further. "We need to cleanse our palate, guys, and work our way back up to the advanced stuff."

The tension broken, the others laughed. "That gets my vote," said Raphael.

"There was a bunch of magazines lying around, and Mikey's been reading the Robert Carrier columns," Donatello explained to April, and she nodded conspiratorially. Then, a thought striking her, she turned to Raphael.

"Oh, yeah, Stanley..." She grinned, loving the opportunity to rib the red-masked Turtle... Raphael had been the first one she met, and though April would never say so to the others, she felt they had a special bond that allowed her a few teasing privileges.

Michelangelo continued on his own train of thought. "Although... In fact, you know guys, don't shoot me down, OK..."

"Miss McWilliams says hi..." April smiled mischievously. "And to tell you, you were the perfect gentleman."

"I was thinking... Hawaiian?" offered Michelangelo hesitantly.

"Huh?" A puzzled Raphael frowned. "Miss McWhat? Who are you talking about?" The others nodded sagely as he looked around for support.

"Who's that? Yeah, right, Stanley," added Donatello.

"OK, OK, maybe not so basic," Mikey continued. "It's just being stuck out here, you know, with only one pizza place and no delivery... I think it's made me go kinda crazy."

"What? I don't get this. What are you-?" Flustered, Raphael would have gone a deep red to match his bandana if it was physically possible. He stood abruptly. "Come on, you guys... Let's go!"

"Yeah, Stanley, you change that subject."

"I was thinking... Maybe we could try quiche."

"Good one, Mikey."

"You liked that, huh Leo?"

"You almost had us."

***

"Looks like they're... Yeah. They're going down there. Underground. We're gonna lose them."

"Don't worry. We do this right, they'll come to us. On our terms."

***

"Come on, guys," April said incredulously. "You're really going back to New York in this?" On the ladder up to the surface, she watched as in the tunnel below the Turtles packed what they had brought with them onto a go-kart like contraption.

"Beats walking," was Donatello's reply. He indicated the dark tunnel stretching ahead. "It's a pretty long way back to New York."

Raising an eyebrow, April eyed the water dripping from the rounded ceiling of the tunnel. "And you guys are OK with that?"

"Ask me when we get there," said Raphael wearily, clambering on board.

"I mean, it looks like a lot of water has passed through here recently."

"It's a water tunnel," said Leonardo cheerfully. "It sends water from the lake to the city when they need an extra supply. Pressure gets low, they open the sluice gates over at the lake and let water rush right along here."

"Yeah," pondered April. "Along here. Doesn't that bother anyone?"

"It's OK," replied Donatello. "It's not in use a lot. In an hour, we'll be home."

"If you're sure... It goes all the way back to the city?"

"Can we stop talking about the water now?" asked Raphael.

Donatello turned to him. "Right along here it goes... In a roaring, rushing, torrent," he said with relish. "Watery... water." He moved right up next to Raphael's ear and barked "Water!"

"Most of the way," replied Leonardo. "It's why we picked this place."

"See?" said Michelangelo. "We're not just pretty, we're smart too."

"Well, I am," said Donatello.

"OK, some of us are smarter, some of us are just plain pretty." Michelangelo licked a finger and slicked back an imaginary eyebrow.

"Well, I'll see you there," said April. "Go easy on them, Donny."

Donatello was strapping himself into the driver's seat. "You sure you won't...?"

"Uh, it's tempting, it really is," she said unconvincingly. "But unless you got room for the bike on there..."

"OK, April," said Leonardo. "See you in New York."

"If we get there in one piece," said Raphael quietly.

Smiling at that, April climbed back up the ladder and out of sight. "'Bye, guys!" she called, receiving a collective "'Bye, April!" in response.

Donatello turned to the others. "Any of you guys get travel sick?"

"It's too early to tell," replied Raphael. He gestured toward the tunnel ahead. "Would you just get on with it already? 'Sooner we start, the sooner it's over."

"Raph's feeling queasy already," said Michelangelo.

"OK, guys. Here we go." Donatello started up the engine and the kart started down the tunnel with an abrupt motion that threw them forward then back. After a moment, the motion settled down.

"This isn't too bad..." said Raphael cautiously. Donatello eased a lever forward, and the kart shot ahead at great speed. As they hurtled forward, Don lost control a little and they ran up onto the walls, the Turtles finding themselves at a steep sideways angle, held in their seats by inertia.

"Heh. Should we go back for Raph's stomach?"

"Shut up, Mikey!"

***

"They've been down there a while. How do you know she hasn't gone with them?"

"Because, my slow-witted friend, of the motorcycle. Wait... Yeah. Here she comes now."

Notes:

- April rides a motorcycle, which is kind of cool, and also something she did a couple of times in the cartoon. I have her wearing head-to-toe black leather partly as a disguise and partly because it's practical and conventional garb for that mode of transport (in movies and TV at least, certainly in that era), and for no other reason. :)

I'm sure this is quite a common trope - Mysterious motorcycle rider assumed to be male, often played by a burly stuntman until the reveal, turns out to be a familiar female character. I'm not exactly going all out to avoid cliché with this, after all. Interesting that Mikey is the only Turtle who can tell the new arrival is a woman before she removes the helmet - I think the others are starting to worry about him a little.

- I sort of researched New York's water supply contingencies for this, but not in any great depth. Which probably shows.

- Turtle banter. Difficult at first to write, but once you get started it really does flow. Again, obscure (now, if not then) cultural references help - Robert Carrier, anyone?

- I couldn't resist the different person joke. Casey seems to have noticed the Judith Hoag to Paige Turco alteration that everyone else is either oblivious to or too polite to mention.