TMNT: Hunting Moon ch 2

Chapter 2: New Best Friend?

"Um, duh!" Michelangelo responded, giving a shrug of his green shoulders.  "Who were you expecting?  Chuck Norris?"
"But you can talk…" the girl said, blinking her dark eyes in disbelief.  "And you fight."
"You've got a weird way of saying thank you."
"And you saved me…"
Mike groaned inwardly.  Looked like this was going to be one of those times.  Thankfully, she at least hadn't fainted…yet.  That meant he still had time to question her about her little stunt at the restaurant.
"Yeah, okay…" he said slowly, taking a step forward.  "Anyway, I have a question I need to ask you."
Instinctively she stepped back.  Michelangelo thought her shadow on the wall grew a bit, looked a little funny, but decided not to question it.  Instead he stepped with her, stowing away his nunchaku and holding up his hands to show they were empty.
"Whoa whoa, chill!  I'm not going to hurt you!  I just wanna talk." he said, trying to keep her from freaking and running on him.
"Uh-huh…sure…and the second you ask your question, you're going to jump me and take me to the cops, aren't you?" she replied with a nervous, empty chuckle.
"Look dudette, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a poster boy cop, and I can't really just sashay down to the D of P and turn you in without getting cameras in my face." he sighed, rubbing his head.  This was already getting to be a headache and they'd barely said anything!  But the girl paused, like his words were registering with her.
"Okay…Let's say I stick around to answer your question…but if I do, you better not go back on what you said."
"Seriously!" he groaned.  "I'm not going to go to the cops!"
"Okay, fine…" she said slowly, still eyeing him with an air of distrust and apprehension, "Whatcha wanna know?"
"Well, do you have a name?  I don't want to call you 'chick' or 'babe' or 'dudette' all the time."
"…Diana."
"Diana.  Nice to meet you.  The name's Michelangelo, but everybody just calls me 'Mike' or 'Mikey.'"  he said, risking a smile that she didn't return.
"Mike.  Okay," she sighed, as though trying to reassure herself of something, "I'm lost in New York, with stolen pasta, a crazy, homicidal business owner out to get me, and I'm in an alley talking to a giant turtle named Mike who knows kung fu.  Okay, this isn't so bad.  I guess it could be worse."
"Whoa, whoa!  Back up there, Di!  I think you just totally answered my question and I didn't even ask it!  What'd you say?"
"…Which part?"
"All of it!"
"…I'm lost in New York, with stolen pasta, a crazy, homicidal business owner out to get me, and I'm in an alley talking to a giant turtle named Mike who knows kung fu?"
"Actually it's ninjitsu.  And I know you stole the eats, I watched you do it."
At this, the color drained from her face and she tensed up again, her left foot sliding back a fraction.
"Hey, chill out!  I just said I saw you do it!  I haven't turned you in yet!  Plus I saved your life, remember?"
She relaxed again, but only slightly.
"But what do you mean lost with a crazy, homicidal rich dude out to get you?"
"…It's a long story…"
At this, he groaned inwardly.   He knew what he had to do, but he also knew he'd get into a lot of trouble if he did it.  Still, perhaps if Master Splinter just listened with him, maybe he wouldn't get into so much trouble…
"Well…I've got time.  If you want to come back to my place—"
"You said you weren't going to turn me in!"
"I'm not, GEEZ!  Look dude, I just wanna know the truth!  But we can't stick around here and swap stories over snow cones!  I live just a little bit away from here, and no one can find us, so you'll have time to tell me!  But you have to promise you won't tell anyone about it!"
For a long moment, Diana studied him carefully, her distrust still etched plainly on her face.  Whatever she'd been through, Michelangelo reflected, it had to be seriously bad if she was lost and stealing.  Finally however, Diana sighed and relaxed a bit more.
"Alright…I promise…" she said wearily, sounding exhausted, "Where is it?"
Mikey grinned.  "Follow me."  He turned and led her to the nearest sewer grate, crouching down to lift it up for her.
"Down there?" she asked, which was a pleasant departure from the normal "You're kidding me, right?  No way am I going in a sewer!"
"Yep.  Don't freak, there are tunnels that lead to my place.  It's an underground subway station that's been abandoned for a while." he explained as she sized up the jump, tightening the knot on her package of stolen food.
"Doesn't sound too bad." she remarked before crouching down and making a small hop down the five-foot drop into the sewer tunnel.
"It's actually pretty rad," Mikey declared proudly, dropping down after her.  He straightened up, pulling the grate overhead back into place.  "My bros and I fixed it all up."
"You have brothers?" Diana asked, sounding surprised,  "You mean…there's more of you?  More giant, talking turtles?"
He suppressed another groan.  Apparently the lack of fainting was just being replaced by an extra-long 'giant talking turtles' phase.  He wondered what would happen when she got a good look at Master Splinter.  Instead, he just started to lead her down the tunnel, giving a nod.
"Yep.  Me, Donatello, Leonardo, and Raphael.  But you can just call 'em Donny, Leo and Raph, it's easier."
"Oh, and of course," she gave another of those weak chuckles, "Why wouldn't you all be named after a bunch of Renaissance artists?  You got any sisters named after Jane Austen characters or something?"
"No," he answered as they walked, "But we do have Master Splinter."
"Master Splinter," she echoed slowly, her stolen plates of food still clattering as they walked, "Do I even want to know?"
"Nah, I think it may just be easier if you meet him."
"I'll take your word for it, Mikey."
For the rest of the walk, they remained mostly quiet, Diana managing to keep up with Michelangelo the whole way, despite how tired she looked.  Normally Mike would have looked for excuses to keep the conversation going, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to do it.  He wasn't sure if it was feeling sorry for how tired Diana obviously was, or if it was something else.  Something about her just seemed a bit off…and it wasn't her wardrobe.  Not that her clothes were unusual, but it just showed she wasn't a native New Yorker.  No, there was something about her that was distinctly…well, weird, and it sent shivers up his spine, making his skin crawl.  He felt a small stab of guilt at such an impolite line of thought, but something about her just bugged him and he didn't know why.
Geez, Michelangelo! he chided himself, You gotta chill out a bit!  I just don't want to get in trouble for bringing a stranger down here, that's what it is.  It's gotta be.  And besides, Master Splinter will know what to do.  He'll take care of everything…
But despite his self-reassurances, he still couldn't shake the feeling of unease, and when they arrived at the den, it was with great relief that he saw Donatello still in his corner, working away restlessly.
"Back already?" Don asked, not looking up from the panel he was fussing with.  "That was rather quick.  Did you change your mind about giving me a hand?"
"A-actually, Donny…I was kinda hoping you could help me out." Michelangelo replied, stepping further in while Diana hovered uncertainly behind him.
"What is it this time, Mikey?" Donatello groaned, setting down the panel.  "Don't tell me you busted a jewelry store window or some old lady saw you and—"
He froze as he turned to face them, eyes widening behind his bandana.
"Um…hi?" Diana said tentatively, giving a weak wave as she stepped out in full view.
"A human?" Donatello quickly moved from shock to irritation as he looked to his brother.  "Michelangelo…"
"Chill a bit, Don!  It's cool, she said she promises not to tell anyone!"
"And what guarantee did you get about that?  Knowing you, you probably jumped first and decided to save the thinking until you got here."
Mike started to speak, but no words came out, and he simply shut his mouth again, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.  Donatello groaned and turned to Diana, frowning.
"Look, I don't know what he told you, but—"
"I'm not going to tell anyone!" she said stubbornly.  "He saved me from a bunch of thugs, okay?  Least I can do is keep a secret!"
"Kids'd still tell their parents." Don argued.
"My parents are dead." Diana shot back bluntly, her face darkening.
Her words were met with a shocked silence, until Donatello finally spoke up.
"I…I'm sorry…" he murmured.
"'S cool," she sighed, "You didn't know."
"Okay," Michelangelo interjected, "Now I really want to hear your story."
"Like I said," Diana sighed, "It's long."
"So you brought her down here for a story?" Don demanded.
"Well I wasn't just gonna stand in an alley, waiting for those creeps to show back up with friends." Mike answered.  He turned to Diana and gestured toward the sofa.  "You can sit down.  The couch isn't gonna bite."
"Thanks," the girl murmured, collapsing onto it almost at once, starting to unfold her bundle of stolen food.  "I'm starving and I haven't sat on a couch in forever."
"Wait just a second," Don said, starting toward one of the openings, "I'm going to get Master Splinter.  I think he'd better hear this, and I have a feeling you won't want to tell us the whole story twice."
"Works for me." Diana muttered, whipping a Swiss Army knife out of one of her jacket pockets.  She flipped open one of its little tools, a piece resembling a spork, and began to dig into the pasta like a starving man, shoveling it into her mouth rapidly.
"Slow down, dude!  You're gonna make yourself hurl!" Mike chuckled, crouching down in front of her.
"Freaking hungry," she muttered between bites, "Haven't eaten real food in forever.  Not since I left."
"Left…?" he asked, furrowing his brow.  "Did you run away from home? Er, I mean—"
"'S all good, you forgot," she replied, taking a huge swallow, "And technically, I ran away from my dad's house.  Told you, I've got a crazy, homicidal freak out to get me."
"Where is your dad's house?"
"New Mexico."
"WHOA!  Are you kidding me?!  New Mexico's like, a trillion miles away!  How the heck did you get here?!"
She frowned up at him, spork midway to her mouth.  "I walked.  Duh."
"Am I hearing what I think I'm hearing?" Donatello's voice drifted out to them as he reappeared in the mouth of the tunnel he'd gone down.  "You walked all the way from New Mexico to New York?"
"Don't have a car.  Or a bike." Diana replied, taking another couple of large bites, "Taxis and buses can be traced.  If I hitchhiked, people can be paid to tell what they know.  Or they're in danger of being killed on my account.  And it's not exactly like I could have shanghaied a horse and ridden the whole way here.  Horses can be shot out from under you.  And if I fell off and the horse fell on me, two birds with one stone.  So yeah, I walked."  She set the plate of food down on the floor and stared at Donatello.  "You sound like you don't believe I could have done it."
"I think," said a new voice, "You did well, studying the situation and choosing wisely.  Though it would help if I knew more of the details."
Master Splinter emerged from the tunnel on Donatello's heels and offered a kind smile.
"I agree, Master." Donatello said calmly, and at once, Michelangelo relaxed.  Now everything was going to be okay.
Or mostly okay.
Diana's eyes locked onto Splinter and promptly went the size of hubcaps, her Swiss Army knife slipping right out of her hand.
"You're Master Splinter?" she asked, her voice going several octaves higher, and when he nodded, she started to sway where she sat.  "I think I'm going to faint."
"Yeah, he's got that effect on people," Mike sighed, "You want me to catch you?"
"If you wouldn't mind," she squeaked before her eyes rolled up in the back of her head and she pitched forward.