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Of Hearts and Shells: Turtle Doves	By : prplraven Category: +S through Z > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 1870 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2012 series) is not mine and belongs to Nickelodeon and its original creators. I'm only using them for fan-work, and I make no profit from their use.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
                Chapter 2 – Best Man For the Job
Donatello stood back and gave a nod of approval, looking over his handiwork. Over the course of a week, he had managed to put together a crisp, attractive and professional-looking website, advertising his new business. The header on the front page declared it proudly to be Renaissance Programming Solutions, an independent programming contractor for hire, available for coding, debugging, web-development and more. The front page sported a picture of a reasonably handsome young man in a suit, which Donnie had swiped somewhat randomly and a bit abashedly from a lineup of realtors’ photos. He had set up ad banners in circles that were the likeliest to respond to his offered services. Kirby, approving of Don’s enthusiasm and drive to support his daughter, had agreed to set up a bank account for the business and added April as a signer so she would be able to draw money out of it as well.
It had all been so simple, in the end, that Donnie had been on edge for days, waiting to run into some obstacle or other that hampered his progress in the least, but none had come, and he started to calm down and anxiously awaited his first contract. The worry that no orders would come was likewise unnerving—how would he be able to support April and the baby if no one contacted him??—but after four days, he was contacted by a company in Montana that needed their old database system updated to something more modern. Donnie accepted the job eagerly and dove into the project with fervor.
The coding, though time-consuming to construct, was really child’s play for him. The challenge, it turned out, was keeping his brothers from interrupting him.
Leo leaned around the corner of the lab. “Hey, Donnie?”
“Yeah, Leo?” Don responded without looking up from the lines of code he was typing.
“Have you noticed the Shellraiser riding a little hard since the last teardown you did on it?”
Donnie sighed, eyes still on his screen. “I’ll have a look at it later.”
Leo nodded. “You coming out for training?”
“Yes, as long as I can get this done.” The slight edge on Donnie’s voice was enough to let Leo know that he was testing his brother’s patience, and he withdrew without another word.
Fifteen minutes later, Raphael invaded the lab. “Hey, genius. When are you gonna get around to making me those new shuko spikes?”
“If you’re missing them so much, you shouldn’t have given yours to Frito.”
“Come on, Donnie… Cav was gonna get that kid killed. Those grips probably saved his life.”
Donnie nodded. He, too, would have hated to see anything happen to the young raccoon mutant. Raph’s sacrifice had been straight from the heart, but it was a critical piece of a ninja’s gear, and Raphael, who liked clinging to the sides of buildings, was clearly missing his. “I’ll get to them when I can, but I’ll need to forage around one of the scrap yards to find a good piece of iron rebar.”
“When’re you planning on going?” Raph pressed.
“I don’t know. Look, I’m trying to focus on this…”
“Yeah, fine, whatever. Nerd…” Raph jabbed as a parting shot on his way out.
Donnie had about twenty minutes of uninterrupted silence to work in before Mikey crashed in on his skateboard. “Donnie! Come sewer-boarding with me!”
Don’s hands went up to clutch his head in irritation. “Mikey, I’m working. I don’t have time to goof around with you right now.”
Mikey whined dejectedly. “But Donnie, I’m bored! And you’ve been at this for, like, an hour! You can take a break and have some fun…” He suddenly cowered under the fiery glare his older brother gave him. Donnie’s temper had reached the end of its fuse. He stood and spun Mikey around, then with one hand on his carapace, shoved the younger turtle out the lab door. “I’m sorry, Donnie… I just—“ Mikey tried to apologize for somehow offending Donatello, missing the real source of his anger.
“Everybody get over here, NOW!” Donnie demanded, making Leo and Raph exchange a stunned glance. Donatello waited until they gathered in front of him before he started lecturing. “I am officially working, you guys. This isn’t just messing around, it isn’t something I can put off until later, and it’s something I need concentration for. What I don’t need is people coming in to bother me about skateboarding, or shuko spikes, or how the Shellraiser is running!”
“We asked you a couple simple questions, and you’re biting our heads off about it,” Leonardo rebuffed.
“It’s still an interruption! Every time one of you comes in to pester me, I lose the whole train of thought I was working on constructing. I’m trying to cram eight hours of productivity into the only six hours in the day I can afford, when I’m not training or going on patrol or making retro-mutagen. Right now, this is my top priority: making money to support April and the baby.”
“The baby’s not even going to be born for at least six months,” Raph grumped. “Not like April needs the money right now…”
“Not immediately, but there are all sorts of appointments and scans and things April needs to have while she’s pregnant, and apparently the prenatal and neonatal care are really expensive, and not wholly covered by Kirby’s insurance, meaning, I have to earn and save as much as I can to make sure all the expenses get covered.”
“With all due respect, Donnie, you’re a ninja, first and foremost. What could be more important than training?”
Mikey likewise interjected, “What could be more important than skateboarding?”
His brothers all blinked at him. “Um, a lot of things, Mikey,” Raph sighed at him. “Like making sure every ninja on the team has all their gear,” he added meaningfully.
“AND that the vehicles are in proper working order,” Leo added.
“I’ll get to all of that when I can, but my point is, not right now. I need to focus on my work, and I need you guys to leave me alone while I’m working, and that means no coming in to talk with me, no knocking on the door, and no skateboarding or otherwise coming in to play in my lab. We clear?”
After a second of silence, Donnie’s three brothers all broke into a series of complaints against him, which were suddenly and immediately silenced by the stoic presence of Master Splinter among them. “Your brother is attempting to accommodate all he can for us all as he tries to balance the new challenges in life that he is faced with. He does not need your complaints, which only add to his burden, but your support. He makes a small request of you. Think of all the things Donatello has done for us, and then consider if you would deny him the solitude he requires to provide for his new family.”
Leo, Mikey and Raph all looked slightly ashamed of themselves. “Sorry, Donnie. We’ll leave you alone,” Raph stated abashedly, and scooted off.
“Yeah,” Leo echoed. “And, ya know… don’t worry about working on the Shellraiser… It can wait. And if you need to bow out of patrol in the evening or anything…”
Don nodded. “Thanks, Leo, but it’s okay. Like I said, I’ll get to it,” he said, shooing the leader off.
Mikey gave him an apologetic look with raised eyebrows. “Sewer-boarding later?”
Donnie gave him a wearied smile. “Maybe this evening.” He turned to reenter his lab as Mikey rolled off on his skateboard, but paused as Splinter made no move to leave. “Sensei?”
The aged ninjutsu master laid a hand on Donnie’s shoulder. “Do not overburden yourself, my son. One who chases two hares will not catch either.”
Donnie pondered over his sensei’s wisdom for a moment. “Yeah… um… I will consider that, but right now I need to get back to work…”
Splinter shook his head. “You have good intentions toward us all, but do not allow them to cause yourself harm.” He bowed to Donatello, who returned the gesture.
As Splinter returned to his chambers, Donnie bustled back into his lab, shutting the door behind him with a stressed-out sigh. He once again began typing out lines of code, when, minutes later, the timer he had set next to the centrifuge let out a pert “ding!” Don’s forehead thunked against the desk. “Et tu, centrifuge?”
*****
A shocked Casey Jones sprayed a mouthful of soda in Donnie’s direction. Don raised an arm to deflect part of the spray. “April is pregnant??” He paused, considering. “I guess that explains the sudden crying…”
Donnie shrugged, looking down to the alley from their perch atop the fortune cookie factory, scanning for any Purple Dragon activity in the vicinity. The turtles hadn’t seen any movement from the group in weeks; they were due. And yet, nothing, so their patrol had wound down to just sitting, watching from their outpost.
“She was legitimately upset about our breakup, though,” Don told him. “She said she was going to try to tell you she was… you know… with child, but she couldn’t do it. She was scared.”
“Scared?”
“Of how you’d react… that you’d drop her too as soon as you found out.”
Casey glared accusationally at the turtle. “I wouldn’t’ve done that! April’s… She’s too good a friend. I mean, obviously it’s not me she’s interested in, never really has been, but she’s still one of the nicest people I’ve ever known, and if she needed me, I’d be there for her, no matter what!”
Donnie quirked a sideways smile at him. “I’m glad. She may need you at her side when I can’t be there. I’m given to believe teen pregnancies get treated to some pretty harsh gossip and ridicule.”
“No matter what,” the vigilante reiterated, emphasizing each word proudly.
“They’re gonna think you’re the father, you realize…”
Casey shrugged nonchalantly. “Let ‘em think. It’s a lot tamer than the truth.” He drew himself up proudly. “Once we’re out of school, I’ll even marry her.” He took a long swig of his soda.
“Dream on, Casey-nova! The position of fiancé has already been filled. I proposed to her the same night she told me she was pregnant,” Don said smugly, then had to throw his arm up as Casey showered him with another mouthful of sprayed soda.
“Proposed?! You really know how to shut a guy out of the game, D…”
Donnie shook droplets off his arm as best as he could with a glower at his rival. “That one was totally on purpose, wasn’t it?”
Casey returned his look with a mean-spirited smirk. “Totally was. How’d you get a ring? Just wait for one to fall into the sewers?”
Donatello’s expression dropped. “R…ring?”
“Dude, you’re supposed to give her a ring when you propose! It’s like, to seal the deal.”
Donnie’s eyes flicked back and forth in realization. “I didn’t— It was sort of spur-of-the-moment… “
“Ha! So she’s still available! Casey Jones stays in the game!”
“Casey Jones had better not even think about it, or he’s gonna have five feet of my bo somewhere really uncomfortable!” Donnie fired back, quirking an eyebrow at his rival.
Casey waved his hands in a calming gesture. “Kidding, D… Just kidding.”
Donnie shook his head, glancing back toward the street. His brows knit. “So… if you knew April obviously wasn’t interested in you, why keep butting heads with me over her?”
“You gotta stay in the game until the bitter end, even if it looks like you’ve already lost, because you never know if you’re gonna get the chance to even the odds and score the winning goal in those last few seconds.”
“I guess I should’ve expected a hockey metaphor from you.”
“It’s what I’m best at… Gotta go with your strengths,” Jones grinned.
The turtle gave him a smirk and a nod. “How about being best at something else?”
Casey glanced back curiously. “Like what?”
“Would you be our best man?”
The vigilante paused, then gave an ironic laugh. “Casey Jones… would be honored. I’ll be the best best man ever!”
Donnie held out his hand, and the two of them shook on it. “Great. I really appreciate it.” He straightened up a bit. “And your first duty, as best man, is finding a ring for—“
“Hold up, D…” Casey interrupted, eyes focused on the street below. “Is that Sid?”
Don joined him, looking down over the balustrade as the barrel-chested gang member wandered past, almost aimlessly. “That’s him all right,” he confirmed, “but no sign of Tsoi or Fong?”
“I’ve never seen a Purple Dragon look so much like a kicked puppy. There’s something weird about this…” Taking a few steps back on the roof and without any prelude, he ran and jumped to the opposing building, descending the fire escape with an unnecessary amount of clattering steps.
“Casey, what are you—?!” Donatello whispered after him, then followed, much more stealthily and keeping himself camouflaged in the shadows.
“Yo, Sid!” Casey announced himself loudly. “Where’s your buddies?!”
The muscle-bound Purple Dragon whirled around at Jones’s shout, drawing a blade from a sheath on his hip, but though he fell into an attack stance, the lost, frightened look didn’t leave his features. He wasn’t going to fight on his own.
“Where’s Fong?” Casey demanded.
Sid looked dubious, then finally answered, “I dunno.”
“Whaddya mean, you don’t know?” The vigilante drew his hockey stick, letting the Dragon know he wasn’t above beating the information out of him.
“I mean, I dunno!” Sid insisted, raising his voice in annoyance. “We was pullin’ a gig, and Fong stayed outside to watch for those turtle-freak friends a’ yours. Tsoi and I heard him yell, and Tsoi went out to see what happened, and when neither of ‘em came back, I went out to check on ‘em, but they was gone.”
“Sure they didn’t just ditch your sorry ass?” Casey prodded.
The man shook his head. “They ain’t been home. Nobody’s seen ‘em. And that ain’t all—I heard rumors from some a’ the other Dragons… lotsa people going missing ‘round here.”
Casey pondered for a moment. “If so many people have gone missing, why aren’t there cops all over this place, looking for them, or whoever took ‘em?”
Sid snorted derisively. “Who cares if some gang members go missing, right? They go through the motions, but it’s all bullshit… they don’t do nothin’ to find nobody.”
Donnie dropped soundlessly onto the lid of a dumpster between the two. Sid flinched and backed up a few paces, switchblade at the ready, but the turtle made no further movement toward him, and he lowered it again. “Where was this ‘gig’ of yours? And how long ago?”
The turtle and the teen vigilante rushed to the alley behind the antique shop. Donatello motioned for Casey to stay back as he examined the ground for any evidence. There were tire tracks which looked to be from a garbage truck that had emptied nearby dumpsters, and a puddle of muck produced by a recent rain, both of which had likely obliterated any tracks left behind by the kidnapper. Donnie shook his head. “Ehh, any sign of Fong or Tsoi has already been wiped out or washed away.”
Casey joined him, looking down at the tire tracks in the alley mud. “So, we’ve got nothing. No great loss, I guess…”
Donnie humphed. “Yeah, this case has gone cold. Even if it’s just the Purple Degenerates, it doesn’t mean whoever’s doing this can just kidnap people. We’ll keep an eye out for the kidnapper, but until we can find some actual evidence, I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.”
“So much for this patrol…” Casey grumbled.   “We callin’ it a night?”
“I suppose so,” Don sighed, shaking his head at the barren alleyway. “I’ll give you a call about you-know-what next week.”
“You got it. Later, D!” Popping his skates in place, Casey disappeared around the corner, into the main street.
Arriving at April’s, Donatello jimmied the lock on the balcony door and let himself in, locking it again after himself. He hadn’t made a sound coming in, but April must have sensed his arrival, because she ambled in from the office with a tired-looking smile. “Hi,” she greeted warmly.
“Hi,” he returned, feeling a bubbly warmth at seeing her, even before their synergy linked them. It felt like coming home to her, even though most nights, they arrived together after finishing patrol rounds with the rest of the turtles. Tonight, and most of the past week, she’d stayed home for schoolwork. “How goes the research project?”
She rolled her eyes, heaving a relieved sigh. “Ugh, done, finally! I’m just printing off the rough draft. How was patrol?”
“Pretty quiet, again, though according to our friend Sid, there’s been a number of disappearances in the area, Fong and Tsoi among them. In other news, though, Casey agreed to be best man.”
April grinned with a slight chuckle. “I knew he wouldn’t turn that down.” She leaned in to embrace him, but stopped suddenly, inspecting his shell. “Why are you all sticky?”
Donnie rolled his eyes. “The best man spewed his soda all over me. Next time I have news for him, I’ll bring an umbrella.”
Laughing, but with a bit of annoyance, April spun him around by his carapace and shoved him toward the bathroom. “No, this won’t do. In the shower with you!”
Don protested, but let himself be steered along in front of her. “It’s not that bad… a damp washcloth will clean this off—” She raised her eyebrows coyly at him and sent him a mental image. He blinked in realization, narrowing his eyes at her. “Oh-ho-ho… you insatiable little vixen, you!”
“Besides, I just changed the sheets,” April added, closing and locking the door behind them. “No sense in getting them dirty right off the bat.” Bending down, she undid the buckles on his kneepads and set them neatly aside, then did the same with his elbow-pads. She reached up and lightly tugged his mask off, setting it atop the pile. Then he helped her as she pulled off her skater shirt and jeans, tossing them less ceremoniously on the floor. He slid his thumbs down the sides of her hips until her panties fell to the floor, and she kicked them aside.   He was then left with her bra. He gave her a playful nip on the neck as he pulled her to him, fumbling with the straps on her back for a couple of minutes, before admitting frustrated defeat. April giggled and reached behind her back to unhook the troublesome undergarment, and let him pull it off of her arms. It should have been no surprise to her that he then had to analyze the hook-and-eye mechanism that had given him so much trouble, figuring out how to hook and unhook it.
In the meantime, she reached into the shower, turned the water on, and stepped in, waiting for him. Curiosity satisfied, and seeing her awaiting him, Donnie cast the bra aside and all but leapt into the shower to join his mate.
Your dad’s not going to go ballistic if he catches us at this, is he? Don queried apprehensively as he laid his hands on her shoulders.
She snorted. I’m already pregnant… It’s not like we could get in any worse trouble than that, and it’s not like we weren’t messing around like this before we got engaged. She paused, smiling brilliantly up at him as a warm ripple of excitement passed between them. We’re engaged! she squeaked happily.
You’re pregnant! his mind exulted at the same time, and the two crushed together in an ardent, almost desperate series of kisses as the water flowed over them.
April let her hands wander down one scute of his plastron after the next, heading southward slowly, but with definite intent. Bending slightly to reach between his legs, she stroked him gently until his member unfurled from its hiding place. Donnie let out a pleasured moan as she ran her hands down the length of his shaft as the beast lengthened and hardened. “Whoa, mama…” he said aloud, eyes rolling back. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt her tongue writhing across its tip. Its length, coupled with their comparative heights, meant that she barely had to bend to meet it. It was much too large for her to get her mouth around, but that wasn’t stopping her from using her mouth in every other method she could to drive him over the edge. Pressing it to her lips eagerly, she kissed, sucked and licked at the monumental cock before her.
April… he gasped, you’re gonna make me—you don’t have to— He struggled to restrain himself, phallus so hard it was beginning to ache.
She looked up into his eyes, mouth still working at his dick, suckling the pre-cum away before the flow of the water could claim it. I want you to, Donnie, she insisted, pulling back slightly, mouth wide, tongue out as if she was merely catching snowflakes. I want this, I want to taste you! Do it, Donnie… come for me!
April…April! Oh, fuck, yes!! Her insistence triggered him and with a feral growl, he clenched his teeth and squirted his hot seed into her mouth and onto her face. As she drew back slightly, a thick rope of his jizm splattered against her chest and ran down into her petite cleavage. She swallowed slowly, savoring the taste, then leaned backward to let the stream of water rinse the rest from her face.
Panting, weak-kneed, and tasting the saltiness of his own cum through her, Don gave her a wry grimace. Are you sure you’re over the nymphomania? You’re sure…well… needy, lately. He turned her around and pressed her to him as his cock retracted into its pouch. With an arm around her upper torso, he lifted her, giving himself a better angle. Running a hand over her vulva, he reached down to finger her clit. She let out a loud moan as he worked to return her favor.
It’s the h… hormones… she noted, gasping and arching backward against him. Turning her head toward him for a kiss, she reached behind her to trace his jaw with one hand. I’ve been so horny for you all day… and that boring research paper sure didn’t help! Besides, she added, mentally guiding him toward her g-spot as he worked her down below, there’s so many things I want to try with you. She whimpered and writhed against him. Yes, there!
Donnie nuzzled her cheek as she threw her head back, riding the tide of bliss he was bringing her to… bringing them both to, as the surge of her orgasm nearly brought him to his knees. A quavering sigh escaped him as she screamed soundlessly, another wave building in her, even as she climaxed. Another few strokes of her clit with his thumb as he shoved his finger inside of her brought her off again. Donnie!, she moaned in his mind. Oh, my dear Donnie… you feel so good!
Sweetheart, oh, Baby, he echoed, setting her back on her feet, you are so incredible, you hot little thing!
After a cursory soap-down, she shut the water off and handed him a towel, claiming another for herself. Drying off would have gone faster, but they couldn’t seem to pull away from each other for more than a few moments before needing one another’s touch. Donnie held her, massaging her breasts lightly through her towel as she dried her hair, and April kept a hand on his arm as he collected his gear and they transferred themselves to her bedroom, where they spent another half an hour kissing and snuggling before finally disconnecting their synergy to settle in to sleep.
Even after weeks of sleeping side by side with her in the lair, and in the same bed with her at her apartment more and more frequently, the anticipation of it hadn’t worn off. He hadn’t really gotten used to sleeping on his side, but it was that or force April to sleep on his hard carapace or plastron, as he took up so much of the bed… but at any rate, it certainly wasn’t a very restful position for a turtle. Even so, he relished the close proximity of his fiancé and soul-mate. It was more than getting to cradle her body against his and smell her hair as she went to sleep; it was as if a part of their synergy kept going even when they separated, an afterglow that stayed with them as long as they kept contact. They were both addicted to the feeling, and Donnie drifted off in its warm euphoria.
He awoke at around four, with his right side aching and begging for some relief. April lay curled up next to him, and gave a sleepy sigh as he moved slightly. He pulled the blanket off of himself carefully and launched himself off the wall, landing silently, all so that he wouldn’t disturb her. Even in slumber, she seemed to sense the extra room in the bed and spread out into the space Donnie had occupied. He smiled lovingly at her and kissed the top of her head lightly as he pulled on his pads and harness.
Working his cramped-up shoulder in a circle, he headed for the balcony, when he noticed the flickering light from the television in the living room. For a moment, he thought that perhaps it had accidentally been left on, but upon entering the room, he discovered Mr. O’Neil on the couch. “Kirby?” he queried quietly.
“Ah, good morning, Donatello,” April’s father responded in a hushed tone befitting the early hour. “You’re awake early… and looking a bit stiff, if I may say so…”
Don chuckled and continued to stretch out his arm, then rotated his neck, which gave a compliant pop. “Turtles weren’t designed to sleep on their sides. Figured I’d head back to the lair and get a couple of hours of real sleep before I have to be up,” he said ruefully. “What are you doing awake?”
Kirby gave a small snort. “Insomnia waits for no man.”
The turtle nodded. “Nightmares again?” he asked. After being mutated twice and abducted by the Kraang to be used against his own daughter, it was only to be expected that the traumatic memories evidenced themselves in Kirby’s unconscious mind, but that appeared not to be the case for once, as the man shook his head.
“No, thankfully… just some general restlessness. You know how it is, I suppose… you wake up and start thinking about things you have to do, or start worrying about something, and those thoughts just occupy your mind to a point that relaxing yourself back to sleep becomes impossible…”
Don contemplated for a moment. Normally speaking, he was always too exhausted for insomnia to take hold on him; sleep came knocking before he was ready for it, and oftentimes, he ended up asleep in his lab on top of his current project. Recently, however, he recalled not being able to sleep when he found out April’s cure was a wash—or so he thought at the time. The abject misery had consumed his mind, and he had been much too distraught for sleep to claim him. That had been an extreme exception… but another memory came to him, this one more helpful.
“When we were little, Master Splinter had us do deep breathing exercises before bed. Inhale deeply through the nose, then exhale through the mouth, taking twice as long to breathe out as it did to breathe in. A lot of our meditation exercises incorporate this kind of breathing, too.”
“Thereby oxygenating the brain, and bringing on a sort of pre-somniant state… I see. Thank you, I’ll have to give that a try.” But just as Kirby took his first deep breath, the two of them heard rushed footfalls as a flash of orange swept across the hallway and retching sounds carried to them from the bathroom.
“Morning sickness,” they both deduced.
“I’ll take care of her,” Mr. O’Neil declared, waving him toward the balcony. “You go, get your sleep while you still can. There’ll be plenty of lost hours of sleep for all of us when the baby arrives,” he said with a knowing grimace.
Donnie looked to the bathroom, then back to Kirby with sympathetically raised brows. “G’night, Kirby,” he said, letting himself out.
Casey stared wide-eyed at the fan of bills held up before him. “Holy shit!” he said with an impressed air. “And this is just from your first paycheck?!”
Donatello grinned widely. “Programming from a proficient source pays pretty well.”
“That’s fuckin’ sweet!”
Don returned the bills to the unmarked white envelope he had produced them from and pressed it into Casey’s shocked hands. “I need you to get us an engagement ring. Consider it part of your best-man duties.”
“Me?”
“I’m not sending April to buy her own ring, and between you and Kirby, I think you’ve got a better sense of aesthetics.”
“Hey, I wasn’t looking anywhere near there—I mean… April’s really hot and all, but—“
Donnie rolled his eyes and huffed. “That’s not what that means!” He paused, eyes narrowing somewhat jealously at his one-time rival. “Incidentally, when are we talking about here?”
Casey shot him a winning gap of a smile and prudently avoided answering the question. “Don’t worry, D, I’ll get you the best ring there is!”
The mood was tense. He could feel eyes on him… did he really deserve such a heavy glare? His palms were becoming clammy with nerves; he hoped it would all be over soon. He knew he was being watched, judged, an unwelcome visitor, but he knew he had to keep his cool.
“Do you need any help?” she asked with false patience.
“N…no!” he said defensively, then blushed a bit. “Well… yes… God, it’s so hard!” A flash of blue caught his eye and he calmed, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.
“It’s all right,” she reassured him. “Take all the time you need.”
Those blue orbs captured his gaze again. “No,” he said stolidly, “I’m ready.” He’d never done this before, but it was for April, and he’d go to the ends of the earth for her. He just hoped he was getting it right…
The jeweler opened the glass case, removing the ring Casey pointed to. “Is this for an engagement?” she queried, holding the diamond and sapphire ring out for him to examine. Her associates—another woman who looked slightly older, and a man in his 50s with thinning hair and a jeweler’s loupe clenched in one eye—breathed sighs of relief as the supposed hooligan with the hockey sticks and baseball bat actually expressed interest in making a purchase rather than smashing the place up.
He nodded. “Yeah… not for me, I mean… I’m just the best man.”
“Ahh, you’re picking it out for a friend, then?” the young blonde asked. “This is one of our more unique pieces… one 24-carat diamond, flanked by two 16-carat and two 12-carat sapphires, set in a white gold twist band.”
Casey mostly ignored the shop-talk. “Yeah, my friend Donnie thinks I have a thing for aesthetics.” He still had no idea what that meant, but it wasn’t going to stop him from using the fancy term to impress the young woman. “You’ve got a pretty nice aesthetic yourself,” he added, waggling his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes in an experienced way at the come-on.
“Do you have any idea what her ring size is?”
Casey dug into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. “Uh… six?”
The jeweler smiled. “Well, aren’t you the lucky one! This just happens to be a six!”
He smirked back at her. “Can I pick ‘em, or can I pick ‘em?”
As the woman took the ring to the back room to polish and box it, Casey turned over a large number of the bills Donnie had entrusted him with to the man with the loupe still screwed into his eye. Accepting the little velvet box and shoving it in his pocket, he shot the woman who had helped him a flirtatious gapped smile. “Casey Jones is eternally grateful for the assistance,” he said, making a grand exit.
The jewelers all visibly relaxed to have the bull out of their china shop. “Who the hell is Casey Jones?” the older woman asked. The younger shook her head.
It wasn’t quite sunset when Casey swaggered around the corner and proceeded a few blocks from the jeweler’s. He pulled his phone from his pocket and texted Donnie as he walked: Mission accomplished! He looked up as he hit send, the bareness of the wall next to him somehow drawing him toward it: a brownstone canvas, only adorned with a few small tags… a strange singularity in Purple Dragon territory, possibly recently sandblasted, and with the Dragons laying low of late, perhaps they hadn’t dared to stray this far. He pulled a pair of spray paint cans from his bag, shaking them vigorously. It was a wall screaming out for art. It was calling to him, begging: Paint me, Casey! Please paint me! Of course he would… How could you deny a beautiful bare wall like that the opportunity to be dressed up by the trademark of the legendary Casey Jones? He wouldn’t deny the world his awesome talent!
Finding toeholds in the bricks, he climbed up and painted the top arc of the C, then moved sideways to do the crossbar of the J. He then dropped down to finish the letters and incorporate the outline of his goalie character, and switching to the white paint, climbed up again to fill the letters with quick, broad strokes. He was halfway done with the bottom of the J when he heard a rough snort behind him, followed by a low and definitely ticked-off voice: “Defacing public property carries a strict fine.”
Casey winced, raising his hands above his head and slowly turning around, broad, toothless smile in place, ready to charm the officer. The smile fell off his face as something hard rammed him into the still-wet paint on the wall. He slid to the ground, black and white paint sticking to his cheek, and twisted to see his enemy. His eyes focused on a very large cloven hoof, attached to a very large mutant goat, with spiraling horns that added another three feet to the creature’s already impressive height. He dove to the side and rolled to his feet as the goat reached for him. “What do you want, mutant?!” he yelled at it, drawing his baseball bat from behind him.
The goat gave a somewhat amused grunt, reaching for the coiled willow whip at is side. “You,” it said darkly, “incarcerated.”
“Incarcer—wh—?” the hockey player stammered, when a thought struck him. “You’re the one making people go missing! Fong, and Tsoi…”   He leapt out of the path of the mutant’s lash twice, but the third struck him across the shoulder, cutting the skin beneath his shirt. It was then that he realized that he wasn’t wearing his gear—his spiked shoulder guards and arm guard, taser, even his skates… all of them were stowed in his bag. All he had on him were his sticks and mask. “Ohh, man…”
His moment of contemplation cost him another lash, this one catching him across the thigh. He ducked the next, which came at his head, and ran at the wall, using it to gain height in leaping at his opponent. “GOONGALA!” he roared, bringing his bat down between the goat’s eyes. He struck true and hard, but the mutant hardly blinked at the blow. Casey blinked in return, taken aback. “Shit, goats butt with their heads, don’t they?” he mumbled to himself, wishing he’d realized it a few moments sooner.
The mutant took the opportunity to spin and deliver a powerful buck to Casey’s midsection. The teen yelped as he felt his ribs crack. Another single-hoofed kick smashed him into the wall again for good measure. His head impacted the bricks, and his vision started to fade. He made a last-ditch attempt to yell for help, but the pain in his chest reduced his scream to a whimper. The goat snorted brusquely, grabbing him by the ankles and slinging him over its back, jarring Casey’s ribs again. The pain only provided a moment of wakefulness. “You have the right,” he heard it rumble as he blacked out completely, “to remain silent.”
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