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Whispers in the Dark	By : Ombre_des_dieux Category: +S through Z > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 1783 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, nor the characters from it. My rights extend only to this original plot and the original characters herein. This is an homage after a 30-year love affair with the characters. No money was made.

Chapter List
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Hectic Holidays
Morgan stood in front of her closet and ran her hand over the small collection of dresses she owned. A grand total of three resided there; the soft, stretch velvet sheath from a cheap club-wear shop down the road, a sequined dress bought after prom season at the local thrift store, and the flowing A-line ensemble her friend Samantha gave her before she left Los Angeles.
One of the few items of clothing she kept from her old life, the A-line was safe only because Charlie had never seen it. She hadn't worn the outfit anywhere, in fact, only tried it on for Sam.
She missed Samantha. They had hit it off right away when she first moved to L.A. and they'd been best friends for six years. Sam gave her the dress for her birthday in July, saying Morgan needed something "hot" to go out in. She continuously tried to engage Morgan in the social happenings of L.A., even as Charlie took control of every aspect of her life.
Morgan sighed. What had Sam thought about her disappearance? She wondered if Sam blamed Charlie, or worse, thought he killed her. But it was no use worrying. Contacting anyone she knew from before would be a drastic mistake.
Even if the federal agents hadn't made that clear, she wouldn't have dared anyway. Charlie knew Sam and Morgan didn't want him leaning on her for information. Sam was safer not knowing.
Morgan dragged her mind back to the present and pulled out the stretch velvet dress for the 'event'. The sheathe was the closest thing to a cocktail gown she owned and tonight required formal wear. The corporate Christmas party for Vallen Industries, the parent company of Angel Automotive Insurance, promised to be the event of the season.
Vallen, a large conglomerate with its fingers in a little bit of everyone's pie, boasted divisions spanning everything from banking to biotechnology. Tonight's Christmas gala should be a spectacular celebration on a scale Morgan had never experienced.
Surprised at the invitation, she double checked with her boss, since she was one of the newest phone reps at Angel, but her entire floor was going due to record earnings this year. Her Witness Protection agents, duly informed of the invitation, gave the all clear to attend.
Morgan couldn't wait. Tonight was her first chance to get out and meet people since she came here. She may have to stay in hiding but that didn't necessitate acting like a hermit.
It was Friday and this party marked her first big outing in the city, so she decided to dip into her savings and dress up for the occasion. The first stop on her list today - a new accessories shop.
"Bling 'n Things" was owned by the daughter of her boss. For weeks, he had told the girls at work about the fun, inexpensive, jewelry she carried and Morgan decided to check it out. Bleecker Street wasn't far, after all, and the spoken directions from her smartphone got her there in no time.
The shop, tiny but chock full of products, overwhelmed Morgan. She wandered the rows, fingering a bewildering array of jewelry pieces when a bright female voice interrupted her thoughts.
"I noticed you're having trouble deciding. Perhaps I could help?" The cheery woman said.
"It's crazy, there are so many options here and I don't wear much jewelry. I don't know what to choose. I'd love your assistance," Morgan said. "Do you work here?"
"No," the woman laughed, "Thank goodness, or I'd have one of everything filling up my apartment. I'm like a magpie, I can't resist the pull of all things sparkly. But I adore accessories and I'd be happy to help you. Are you headed to a Christmas party?"
"First corporate event in NYC!" Morgan said. "It's a big deal for me. I don't get out much and this party is supposed to be in a fancy ballroom downtown. The Vallen Industries Gala?"
The woman laughed again, a happy sound, light and carefree. Morgan couldn't remember the last time she did that. Every emotion she displayed was restrained these days.
"I'm going to be there too! I've got to cover the president's new product announcements for Channel 6," she said.
"Oh! Are you a reporter?" Morgan asked. Warning bells sounded in her head. She didn't need her face plastered across the evening news, though she doubted the woman brought a camera crew shopping.
"Sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm April O'Neil. I used to work for Channel 6 full time, but now I freelance for all the networks. It's better hours, I get to choose the stories I'll cover, and it gives me time to run my other business," April said.
"Wow, that sounds... hectic. I don't do anything exciting. I'm just a phone rep at a smaller insurance company," Morgan said, keeping her response vague. "What's your other business?"
"Antiques," April replied. "I used to have a small shop right here on Bleecker Street. But after the fire, well, nothing survived. So now I'm kind of doing that freelance too. I spend a lot of time tracking down rare collectibles for people with far more money than sense.
But enough about me, what are you wearing tonight?"
Morgan walked out of the store in an amazing mood. She'd met a sweet, normal woman with nothing to hide. Someone who might turn out to be a good friend and April helped her pick out the perfect accessory for the party, a silky scarf to dress up her outfit.
Feeling better than she had in weeks, Morgan headed off to the $20 hair and nail salon just down the block from her apartment. Time for a beauty makeover, then home to dress before she caught a cab to the main event.
December is a crappy time to have a fancy party in New York, Morgan decided as she exited the cab several blocks up from the venue. The traffic jam from the guests left her no way to get any closer.
Now she concentrated on her feet, clicking her way down the block with extreme caution in her heels, shivering in her soft shawl. Even in this cold, the thin shawl as outerwear had been her only option. Her lumpy, wool coat would scream the fact she did not belong in this illustrious crowd.
She gripped her tiny handbag containing the invitation close and repeated to herself how unlikely it was for anyone here to recognize her. Though, out on the street, she was more uncertain of her choice to be here. She paused as, even lost in this huge number of people, she felt like someone watched her.
Nonsense Morgan.
She took herself firmly in hand. She had been cleared for this event and gosh darn it, she was going to do her best to enjoy it. Besides, her new friend was here somewhere and promised to try and meet up with her tonight. An exhilarating evening awaited and she would not ruin it with nerves.
She moved along with the group until her turn at the door where a security officer checked her id, invitation, and purse. Even this tiny bit of obvious protection helped to reassure her no sneaky assassins would be lurking on the dance floor.
Raphael rested on the rooftop, his posture relaxed, waiting for April to emerge from the building across the way. He'd positioned himself so he wouldn't be spotted from below but could monitor the guests as they came and went from the Vallen Corp over the top extravaganza that was supposed to pass for a holiday party.
April had been keeping tabs on Vallen for the past few weeks at Donatello's request and she insisted that tonight's venture was safe. She'd managed to arrange an interview with the CEO, granting her a prime opportunity to clone his phone. That way Donatello could monitor Vallen and evaluate how criminal they really were.
Raphael's brainy brother had found some disturbing evidence online implying Vallen Corp might be the new front for their old nemesis, but he wanted positive confirmation before they moved on the building.
April volunteered for the mission, despite Raphael's objections. He was concerned for her safety, even in the midst of such a crowd but her mind was made up. There was nothing for it but to go with her.
Of course they wouldn't go inside unless she signaled danger but each of them patrolled a different side of the building, combining a scouting mission with the very real need to make sure their human friend remained undiscovered.
Raphael examined the people as they gathered and made their way into the building to celebrate. He never understood this urge humans felt to come together in large groups of strangers to show off their possessions and accomplishments. He much preferred spending the holidays with his father and brothers, it was a more meaningful gathering than this crowd.
He scrutinized the stream of humanity, looking for any familiar criminal faces or telltale signs indicating a foot ninja in disguise. Usually easy to spot, their training made them move with more assurance than the average person plodding along.
So far, he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. A few drunk college kids tried to get in but they were turned back by building security. Otherwise it had been quiet.
He cast his gaze over the crowd again and a figure that moved a little too gracefully caught his attention. A woman, dressed, as many were, in clothing entirely inappropriate for the weather. She wore a long, black dress that hugged her curves and gold strappy heels with a thin shawl wrapped around her arms.
Raphael reached up and flipped down the magnifier on the headgear Don provided to each of them. Her face came into sharp focus and he gave an involuntary little gasp. He recognized her.
The angel.
She struck him as even more beautiful than he remembered. Her hair was fastened into an elaborate style with brunette curls cascading down one side over her shoulder and woven through with thin teal and gold ribbons. She wore glittering eye makeup in matching shades of blue, purple, and yellow which made her eyes flash startlingly. And he was reminded again of how gracefully she moved. Even in heels and shivering from the cold, she glided over the pavement as if walking on air.
But what is she doing here?
She turned her face in his direction and only the sure knowledge he couldn't be seen from her vantage point kept him from moving. Her shoulders hunched a little in a defensive posture and he wondered if she might be thinking about leaving, but moments later she straightened up and carried on past the checkpoint into the building.
Raph tapped his bluetooth headset.
"Donnie," he said. "Any idea how the guest list for this shindig was compiled?"
"It's their end-of-year party," Don replied. "The server I hacked showed a pretty even distribution of guests from each of their divisions. Plus a heaping helping of the rich and famous. Why? You see someone out of place?"
"Nah," Raph deflected. "Just seemed like a large number of ordinary folk heading in. Anyone see something more interesting?"
He cringed when he said 'ordinary', the angel was far from it. But there was no reason to reveal her to his brothers. Despite her grace, he was sure from his previous observations she posed no threat.
"Nothing much yet," Michelangelo said over the headset.
"All clear on this side too," Leonardo said. "Keep a sharp eye out guys. It may be quiet now, but we all know how fast that can change."
Raphael knew all too well and now he had two human girls in the building to worry about.
Morgan made her way into the party, following the happy voices around her and found an out of the way spot where she could rest for a moment and get her bearings. Inside was completely the opposite of the chaos reigning outdoors. A warm, subdued room was filled with quietly chatting guests and a small string ensemble that played soft, baroque carols.
A waiter with a tray full of beverages approached and offered her a glass of sweet white wine. She loved wine but lacked the cash to purchase any since her move, so this was a rare treat. Wine was the one thing she missed the most about California she thought wryly, availing herself of a glass.
It wasn't the luxurious lifestyle, or the warm weather she missed, but Charlie's wine cellar. Not that she overindulged, but she appreciated a good vintage and he boasted a selection of the best; though he never took advantage of it.
She shook her head at her thoughts and went back to her perusal of the space.
A large holiday tree dominated the room, over decorated she was sure, in the style so prevalent at the moment. The heavy scent of its branches proclaimed it fresh cut while the tinkle of crystals and glass baubles declared opulence in the lighting and decorations upon it.
As impressive as it seemed, this room was merely the foyer. A large ballroom room where they would dine and dance tonight connected around here somewhere. Morgan hoped April or one of the girls from her office would show up soon. It's always easier to infiltrate a group if you weren't alone.
Unfortunately, Roman found her first.
Roman sat in the cube across from her at work and leered at her all day long. She hadn't caught him leering herself but Sue, who occupied the next desk over, warned her. Morgan didn't like him much anyway. For some reason, he always smelled of pastrami and he projected an overbearing attitude.
"Emma!" Roman said, chuckling while walking over to her little out of the way corner. "You're looking much too pretty to be a wallflower at this party. Let me take you to our group in the lounge."
"Roman," Morgan said, nodding to him, her voice as icy as her drink. "Thank you, but I'm waiting for a friend."
"I'll wait with you," he replied, undeterred. "Can't have anyone taking advantage of our little Emma now can we?"
An ironic statement since Roman leaned in close to examine her bodice.
"Roman," she tapped him on the shoulder, "eyes are up here." She reminded him and felt him jerk upright again.
"I was... uh...just looking at your pin," he said. "Is it a turtle?"
She brought a hand to her broach and gently stroked the vintage piece. The turtle consisted of a bronzy cast metal body with mother-of-pearl inlay in tiny hexagon patterns all over the shell and ruby eyes.
A final gift from her birth mother, she had worn the piece all her life. Usually it resided under her clothes next to her skin, but April helped her convert the pendant to a pin for this evening and selected a long scarf to match.
Right now the scarf draped across her upper back, wrapped around the velvet straps of her dress loosely at the shoulder, crisscrossed her bodice, and tied behind her before trailing down. The turtle held a section pinned at the point of the 'V' of her gown.
She was nervous about wearing the unique broach so openly, some agent of Charlie's might recognize it, but on second thought doubted Charlie even remembered. Besides she always took it off before...
Best not to go there right now. She couldn't afford a screaming fit in this crowd of people. Finally remembering she was in the middle of a conversation, albeit one she wished she wasn't having she replied.
"Yes. I like turtles."
"Pretty," he said. "But aren't turtles like slow and stuff?"
She rolled her eyes. That was Roman-stunning conversationalist.
"Actually, the turtle is an ancient symbol representing creation, endurance, determination, strength, stability, longevity, and innocence. And some species can move extremely fast, especially in the water."
"Ah," Roman said. His bland tone indicated his enthusiasm for the topic was waning, with her emphatic defense of the species. April chose that moment to hurry up to her.
"Emma!" she exclaimed, grabbing Morgan's hands, "You look absolutely perfect!"
"It came out wonderful, thanks to you." Morgan said, smiling and giving a little twirl. She grabbed April's hand and tugged her toward the ballroom, calling, "See you at work," to Roman as she made her escape.
"Who was that?" April asked in an undertone.
"Creepy coworker," Morgan replied out of the side of her mouth with a little shudder. "You showed up in the nick of time. He was trying to sweep me off to join his 'friends' in the lounge."
"Ack!" April said, "No one has a stalker on their Christmas list. I'll be on guard for him tonight. We'll keep you out of reach."
Morgan laughed for the first time in what seemed like months.
"Thanks April. How did the interview go?"
"Boring! Typical, egomaniacal CEO wants the world to know how wonderful he is, living vicariously through his company, blah, blah, blah...But he does throw an awesome party!"
The dining room was enormous. The entry led right onto the dance floor with tables set off to either side. In the front was a small, stage where the DJ and the presenters would be. The tables were adorned with heavy silver flatware, fine china, and floral centerpieces that overwhelmed the enclosed space with their scent. April squee'd at them in girlish delight as she and Morgan made their way to the rear of the room.
April was checking placecards, but Morgan already knew where she would be sitting, the table closest to an unlikely exit. All deliberately pre-arranged as a precautionary measure by the agents watching over her. They briefed her thoroughly on the layout and location of everything in the ballroom before they granted her permission to attend.
Unfortunately, April wasn't sitting with Morgan, but that did not deter her. Without hesitation, or apparent guilt, April switched the card with her name for the person seated next to Morgan so they could stay together.
Morgan could not remember a better evening. She and April chatted and giggled their way through the night like much younger girls. They hit the dance floor several times, dared each other to lick the ice sculpture, and ate far too much dessert.
The clock struck eleven before Morgan was ready to call it a night. She'd enjoyed a little too much wine and the guests had grown more boisterous. The evening had been lovely but she longed for the peace and quiet of her own little apartment.
She gathered her things and leaned over to thank April for an awesome time when the music died and the crowd near the door began to panic. Morgan froze, her attention riveted on the disturbance.
Shouting and noise dominated the hall until a single gunshot rang out. In the following silence a man spoke. His voice was gravelly and reverberated in a way which made Morgan picture barrel chested drill sergeants.
"Hun," April whispered to herself and there was a small beep from her cell phone.
"Ladies and Gentleman," the voice said, "No need to panic. We are merely here to collect for those less fortunate this evening. Namely, us."
He laughed.
"So be generous with your wallets and jewels. Also, it has come to our attention that a certain young woman may be in attendance as well. She will be coming with us. Now hurry along, gather your things and donate to these fine gentlemen so you can return to your regularly scheduled debauchery."
Morgan began to act as soon as the man started to speak. She couldn't be sure they were here for her but she wasn't going to stick around to find out. She slipped off her high heeled shoes and put on a pair of soft soled black slippers she carried in her purse. Then, she reached out and tugged on April's arm, putting her mouth close to the other girl's ear.
"Let's get out of here," Morgan said, keeping her voice as low as she could.
"How can we?" April whispered back. "It's pitch black. Not even any emergency lights. We can't see them and they have to be blocking the doors."
They must have cut the power when the music died. No wonder the crowd panicked.
"I know a way," Morgan replied, "Stay close to me."
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Whispers in the Dark