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By Monday, you figured all your turtle related problems were over. Sure, things had been a little weird all weekend after movie night, but you figured with Romeo gone things would go back to normal by the next time you saw them.
The turtles responded happily enough to your texts after the tortoise went home with his mother, and your quick text informing them of his departure was the equivalent to opening the floodgates on their affection and attention.
Throughout the week, Raph sent you texts while you were walking to and from work, vigilant about making sure you weren’t followed and nagging about keeping an eye on your surroundings. Mikey left you a dozen or more funny video links everyday for you to enjoy on your breaks and in-between bites of your lunch. Donnie programed your phone so whenever you opened it on the subway ride home it went straight to a new playlist he had put together for you. Even Leo left you a voicemail every morning, at a calculated time when you couldn’t pick up, just letting you know he hoped you had a good day.
So by the time Friday rolled around again and you were heading down to the Lair, six or so pizza boxes in your hands, you weren’t expecting any hiccups in the ‘let’s just all forget about cranky, territorial turtles’ plan.
That was, until Michelangelo met you at the door, arms open wide to give you his customary welcome hug. You dropped the boxes on the table, squealed with glee and jumped for him. He caught you as he always did, swung you around in an arc before he pulled his head sharply away and gagged.
He set you down quickly, face falling into a mask that you had never seen on him before.
“Angelo?” You asked, confusion and worry bleeding into your tone.
“Wow, Babes.” He wrinkled his nose, arms coming up to hold you decidedly away from him. “You uh… you reek.”
You froze, fought the urge to openly sniff yourself. “I-smell?”
He nodded, rubbing his hands up and down your arms in what you hoped he meant as soothing, because his grip was just a shy tick too strong. “Yea, you-”
“Hey, princess, you got the pizza!” Raph walked in from his weight room, towel over his wide shoulders and a grin pulling his lips. He went to take you from Mikey, and you went willingly, hopeful that you’d get your turtle cuddles.
His head dipped into the slot where your neck met your shoulder while your arms looped over his neck, silently asking to be picked up, and he went rigid.
You heard him give a loud snort, the sound barreling through his chest under your face, and he all but shoved you away, blinking rapidly and lip curling. “Oh, not this shit again.”
“What shit?!” The words popped out with a squeak, your shoulders up, blocking your neck. You stared up at him, eyes wide and questioning.
Mikey caught your elbow, fingers warm and firm, coaxing you into half facing him again. “C’mon, babes, let’s get you a shower, then-”
You heard his words while taking a few steps in the direction he was corralling you, brows lowering as you processed what he wanted. Your knees locked, and you rocked away from his gentle pull.
“I don’t need a shower, Mikey.”
“Yes, yes you do.” There was a large hand on the small of your back, but you stayed firm against Raph’s push, a little bubble of anger starting to manifest in your gut.
“Stop being pushy.” You ordered, about to turn back to fix Raph with a scowl, but a quick hiss of an aerosol can brought you up short.
Your gaze latched onto Mikey’s wide eyes, impossibly blue as you watched him process the flash of emotion on your face at the sound, before you rolled your head to the side and spied the can of Febreeze in Raph’s hand.
“Raph.” You asked, quiet, calm. “Did you just-”
He sprayed the can again, in a sweeping motion, hitting you from mid thigh to shoulders.
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In the Dojo, Leo’s head whipped around in alarm at a faint screech, arms moving to brace his weight forward, up and out of the Lotus position he had just settled into. The feminine sound tunneled through the Lair again, and he was up, moving, his heart a sudden spiky thump of terror under his ribs.
He barreled through the Dojo door and into the main room, barely a pause to catalogue the interior, before a scuffle by the entrance to the bathrooms caught his eye and he focused on it.
That terror in his chest bloomed into relief, morphed into confusion, then finally settled into irritation, and with a sharp huff and a shake of his head, he started for the squabble.
Raphael and Michelangelo were trying to wrestle you through the bathroom door. Raph had his arms looped under your own, one large hand tucked behind your head in a hold just tight enough to stop you from slipping free, other hand belted around your middle and lifting you up into the air. One of your hands was clenched tight around the heavy metal door frame, one leg braced on the other side of the opening. Mikey had both hands occupied trying to bend your leg up and off while keeping ahold of the other.
The whole time, you were screeching at the top of your lungs, only stopping to gather more breath, voice cracking at the beginning and end of each noise. With each belt of sound Leo flinched, his head ringing, heart quickening despite the fact that he could clearly see you were not in danger.
His brothers, on the other hand-
Leo breathed in deeply, sucking in the air to bellow, when he heard Mikey shout incredulously, your foot breaking free and crashing into his chest before he could re-snag it:
“Where does all this anger come from!? Where does she store it?!”
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“What the hell are you two doing?”
You hiccuped at the sound, the sharp bark of clipped words, screech cutting off mid belt as Leo intervened.
Raph and Mikey froze, caught red handed, before Raph seemed to recover, swinging you around and away from the door, all but shoving you under Leo’s nose. “Smell.”
“What?” Leo hissed, eyes narrowing, chin jutting forward, patented ‘big brother ire’ coming out strong.
“She stinks.” Raph growled over your head, as if it made sense, “like that stupid tortoise.”
“What?” You squawked at the same time Leo repeated the word, your anger building even as his snout arced down, burying into your hair. Your free hand came up to shove him away, but he moved just as you made contact, his whole face curling up as if he’d sucked on a lemon.
“I do not smell!” You shouted it with a renewed wiggle, going limp in Raph’s hold in an effort to slip from his grip.
“Yea, you do babe.” Mikey interjected, hugging both your legs to his chest.
“Just, put her down.” Leo said, flexing his face muscles, tying to relax around the offensive smell.
Slowly, Raph and Mikey released you, and you wasted no time stepping outside their grabbing range, skirting around Leo until you had the eldest brother between you and them.
“Mikey, go get whatever you think would fit.” Leo said, voice low, and you peeked around the edge of his shell to frown up at him. “Raph, go-” He lifted an arm, peered down at you before focusing on his Red banded brother again. “Go get the secret weapon.”
“Secret weapon?” You asked, annoyed and more than a little suspicious. “Leo? What secret weapon?”
He didn’t answer, but he did let you grab at the sides of his shell, edge him sideways to keep him in front of you as both Raph and Mikey slid past. You tried to follow where Raph was going, but Leo took another snorting breath, shaking his head as though to get rid of a bothersome insect.
“I really smell?” You asked, voice small, shoulders curving inwards when he didn’t deny it.
“Hey, it’s ok. We’ll fix this.” He said, raising his brow ridges and tilting his head in an effort to see you, since you had yet to move out from behind him.
“Or, and this is just a suggestion, but you could all kindly get over yourselves.” You put some sarcasm into the words, backed it up with a solid push against his carapace, and he swayed forward just enough to not jar your elbows.
“Hm…” He quirked a corner of his mouth. “Tempting.” He raised an arm, and you retreated further behind him. “Hey? Why am I being used as a turtle shield?”
“Because.” You shook your head decidedly, tapping the back of his leg to get him to shift to the side. “If anyone’s got a chance of manhandling me into a shower, it’s you. So you just keep your hands to yourself.”
He openly chuckled at that, turning away to look out over the Lair towards something. “I would never dream of manhandling you.”
“It’s literally your go-to move, Blue.” You argued, before the sound of quiet footsteps had your shoulders going up again, on the defensive.
“Hey, Leo, what’s-”
Leo made some sharp motion, you could feel his arm move, but Donnie broke off, and you knew some sign language was taking place.
“Oh, well that’s rude.” You pushed Leo again, swinging him around when you felt Donnie try and sidestep around towards you. You heard a huff of amusement as he swayed again, but Donnie was undeterred.
“Hey?” He asked, drawing out the word, and his head popped around Leo’s shell, low enough that you realized he must be crouching. He gave you that patented little smile, his eyes roving over you, “You ok?”
“I’m fan-fucking-tastic, Don, and I’m not taking a shower.”
He bobbed his head, shuffled forward a step, before retreating with a little huff when you swung Leo into his space and forced him to back up. He disappeared, before popping up on your other side, even lower this time, peering up at you.
“I don’t think you need a shower.” He continued, and you gave him a deadpanned stare, not buying it for a minute, and he grinned again. “What about a bath, though?”
“A bath?” You parroted, narrowed your eyes threateningly.
“Yeah, a bath,” He swayed forward. “I bet you’ve had a long, exhausting week. And I know you were excited to come down here and see us.” He slid forward a step. “Let me run you a bath? I got all the plumping fixed up, you’ll never run out of hot water?”
Unbidden, you thought about the sunken tub Donnie had fitted into the bathroom a few years ago. It was practically a pool for you, and since it was so large you almost never let yourself have the luxury of using it.
You set your cheek on Leo’s shell, thinking it over. “All to myself?”
“All to yourself,” he chirped, dipping his head in agreement. “I’ll even dig out that smell good stuff you like so much.”
“I thought that stuff was overpowering?” At the mention of smell, your shoulders hiked back up again, and you felt Leo tense, saw the flick of Donnie’s tongue against his lower lip.
“No, no, it’s not bad.” He raised his hand, reaching out slowly, “promise.”
You thought it over, narrowing your eyes, thinking it over, let him pull your hand off Leo’s shell.
“I’m gonna go get some blankets,” Leo whispered to Donnie, as he pulled you slowly out from behind his older brother, and you had to focus to make out the words. “You good here?”
“Sure, we’ll be right as rain, won’t we?” Donnie asked, as if there was no way you could take offense at the way they were skirting around you.
“Wait-what?” But Leo was gone, and Donnie tucked your hand into his much larger one, pulling on you gently until you were in front of a rapidly filling tub inside their tiled bathroom, not quite sure how you got there.
“Here you go, some towels, and I’ve got the smell good stuff.” Donnie passed you the stack.
“Wait, Don,” you sputtered, grabbed up the soap as he tried to leave. “This is- this is yours-”
“Use it, then this one.” He tapped the second bottle, the one that was the scent you kept down in the Lair for emergencies. “The first one should get rid of any-well-” He shrugged, with a small smile, apparently smart enough to not tell you that you stunk to your face.
“I-I’m sorry,” You put down the stack of towels, and he caught your hands, holding them in his gentle grip.
“There’s no need to be sorry, ok? There’s no way you could have known about it.”
“But-why?” You gestured, and he let you, head tilting as you swung your arms out in a circle to encompass everything that had happened in the last hour.
He hummed, then tapped your forehead, eyes crinkling at the wrinkles of offense that followed his digit. “It’s just a turtle thing, don’t worry too much over it, kay?”
You gasped, forgetting the weirdness for a moment. “Oh my god, something the great Donatello won’t explain?”
He was amused, but not enough to expound. “Take the bath, relax. I’ll be waiting for you.” He reclined to his full height, pausing to lock the door before he swung it shut with a pointed wink.
True to his word, when you inched the door open and stuck your head out, he was waiting with politely adverted eyes and a bundle of clothes. When you eyed him, he handed you the bundle, then slid his palm over the door to keep it shut.
You figured out a moment why a moment later when you unraveled the clothes and found they were not the spare set you left in the top drawer of Leo’s dresser. You pushed against the door angrily, to not avail. “Donnie! These are not mine!”
“The beanie’s mine.” He said unhelpfully, seemingly without remorse. “The shirt smells like one of Raph’s old ones.” He tilted his head, and when you peered angrily through the door all you could see was the crinkle of amused golden hazel.
You looked down at the garments. “This hoodie better be clean and not the one Mikey’s been wearing all week.”
“And the pants are Leo’s.” Donnie talked on, as if he hadn’t heard you, and that was enough to keep you from slipping the hoodie over your head, instead tying it as a makeshift belt to keep the ridiculously large sweatpants up on your hips.
“This is stupid. I feel stupid.” You knocked on the door, and his hand slid away, far enough that you could waddle out. The shirt was more of a dress, tucked into the ridiculously vibrant, blue sweatpants. The orange and white hoodie only worked as a belt thanks to the amount of times you could roll the waist of the pants. And over your head, you tucked your wet hair up into the purple beanie to avoid getting anything wet. “I look ridiculous. Can’t I just go to Leo’s room and get my clothes?”
Donnie’s gaze swept over you, eyes crinkling, lips pressed close to keep from twitching as he looked you over. But you saw the way his shoulders relaxed, curved towards you as he leaned forward. “Do you want me to carry you?”
“No.” He nodded at your sharp answer, then gestured you towards where the others surely were. “I hope you break a rib trying to hold in those giggles.”
“Fair.” He allowed, for once not about to correct you, lips pursing quickly, before they smoothed out again.
You found the others in the living room area, preparing for movie night as if nothing had gone amiss. When you tripped over a sweatpants leg trying to get to the couch, however, it was Raph that caught you.
You felt his chest inflate, and you stuck out a hand, pushed his snout away from whatever body part he was smelling. “No, no one is sniffing me anymore. This is a no nose zone.” You flicked his snout, hard. “No nose!”
He snorted, but set you down in the middle of the couch, and without hesitation claimed the spot next to you, a plate of pizza in one hand. You eyed it, eyed him, before leaning forward, pushing up the sleeves of the faded red shirt to grab a slice.
Mikey came from the kitchen area, whistling, cheery once again as he settled against the couch on the floor. You heard him giggle right before a cold can was pressed up the loose leg of the blue sweatpants, against your calf, and you hissed, flicked the limb to move it away.
The can plopped in your lap, and his large fingers grabbed your calf instead, pulled forward until it draped over his shoulder. “Now you smell divine, baby cakes.” He patted your knee where it rested beside his head.
“No Nose Zone, Mikey.” You grumbled into the pizza, tensing to keep from spilling into Donnie’s space when claimed the other side of you, his long arm curling up to rest behind your head while the other launched kernels of popcorn into the air. “I’d bet five bucks I still smell suspiciously of turtle, though.”
Leo had the remote, the last to join, and he took the spot on the floor in front of Donnie, the back of his head touching your other calf where it was curved under you. “No Nose Zone, remember? We aren’t allowed to check.”
“Damn right, you aren’t.” You accepted him opening your pop for you though, sipping it slowly.
“After all that, you should smell like-”
The others chorused, “shut up, Mikey.” And he broke off with another little giggle.
When you finished your first slice of pizza, you found Donnie had place a hand full of popcorn in front of you, and you snorted in amusement as you picked kernels from his palm.
Leo still hadn’t picked a movie, and you looked down to find his head tilted back, watching. “Hey, earth to Leo?” He blinked, and you gestured with your can towards the tv. “Movie?”
“What do you wanna watch?” Raph asked you from your right, and you blinked in startled surprise at him. He only scrubbed an arm idly along the muscles of his other, plate perched on the thigh closest to you, eyes crinkled as he regarded you.
“I picked last week?” You protested, but he only shrugged, as if the turns didn’t matter anymore.
You glared at all of them, ending with Donnie, who simple raised his brows in question.
“You sure you don’t wanna explain?” You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Hm… nope.” He supplied, curling his arm behind you to prop up his head, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.
In retaliation, you made them watch your favorite movie for the fortieth time.