It was the hottest spring New York had faced in 30 years. The heavy rains intermingled with the heat to create a maddening humidity usually reserved for the late summer. Deep within their hidden lair, four green ninjas moped the day away. Despite being underground and hidden from the sun it was still insufferably hot. Fans were in every corner blowing the humid, slightly rank air around them.

The turtles themselves had been more difficult than usual for Master Splinter. They seemed to have no energy and little interest in food. When training the past few days they were sluggish and hard to motivate into action, then overly aggressive and insulting to one another once he finally got them going. He had canceled training for the day in the wake of the unseasonal heatwave. Truthfully, his patience had been worn thin by his boys and his own discomfort. When Michelangelo skipped breakfast along with his brothers he began to think they might be ill and needed to rest. There was something about the wild swing in the temperature from the last brace of winter on into ungodly heat only weeks later that did not seem to sit well with his sons.

Michelangelo was laying spread eagle on his back on the tire swing, his shell wedged comfortably into the opening, fingers and toes trailing into the cooler pool beneath. His head was back and he regarded his brothers upside down. They seemed to share his strange dual state of restlessness and lack of motivation to actually do anything. Raphael would pace from time to time and even give a few halfhearted jabs to his punching bag before flopping back down on the couch with a groan beside Leonardo. The disturbance to the couch and the pacing was driving Leo insane.

"Do you have to fall back onto the couch like a ton of bricks every time you sit back down?" he snapped.

"Apparently, I do," Raphael answered, eyes narrowed.

"Why can't you go sit on that couch?" Leo replied, exasperated.

"Can you both be quiet while I try to figure this out?" sighed Donatello, sitting on the floor in the kitchen with three salvaged air conditioners. None of them worked. He had the innards of each machine arranged all around him to try and make a single functional unit.

"What's taking you so long, anyways?" Raphael griped. "This heat is making us all batty."

"So now it's my fault we're all going nuts? I'm not the one that tried to 'fix' the air conditioner with a freaking sai!"

Raphael had quite the response prepared until he actually looked over at his brother, who had twisted his face into a mask of anger with a gap-toothed snarl. He bit back his remark so quickly his teeth clicked. "Whatever," Raph muttered, then got back up to pace.

Leonardo felt a vein pop angrily in his forehead as he was once again jostled by Raphael.

"The heat never used to bother us before," noted Michelangelo. "Maybe Splinter's right and we are sick. Like some mutant virus that is going to turn us all into mindless zombies…"

"That would be a short trip for some of us," Donatello muttered.

"…or alien slugs from space slowly taking over our bodies."

"Where else would alien slugs be from besides space?" asked Leonardo, irritated. "You don't say 'from space' after alien slugs."

A loud metallic clang snapped the brothers attention over to Donatello, who had just flung some air conditioner guts against the closest wall. "Screw it," he said simply, relaxing on the concrete floor. He couldn't concentrate with all their bickering and Raph's incessant pacing. What was the matter with them? Mikey was right, the heat had never done this to them before. It was as if they had something they needed to do that eluded them, and everything else they tried to focus on seemed menial and pointless. If he could just figure out what it was they needed…

"Hey guys!" Suddenly April was there, clanging through the turnstiles like a ray of sunshine after a storm. "My exams are finally over and I wanted to see how you were holding up in this freakish heatwave." She was wearing tiny jean shorts, a pale yellow spaghetti strap tank top, blue flip flops and a smile.

Bad temper forgotten, mouth agape and heart thudding, Donatello was at her side in an instant. Raphael and Leonardo rolled their eyes in unison and offered up mumbled greetings to April, not even looking in her direction.

Slightly deflated by their lackluster greeting, she focused on Donatello. "Thank you for helping me study, Donnie. It was a big help, I think I did really well." She put her hand lightly on his shoulder as she spoke and he felt light-headed. He knew he had it bad for her, but this was worse than usual. Her hand felt like fire on him and his overheated brain fumbled. "Are you alright? You look flushed."

He watched her lips moving but couldn't hear the words. 'Oh those lips', he thought. She shook him a little, concerned.

"Alien slugs," said Michelangelo, shooting a look to Leonardo as he shouted, "from space!"

Leonardo gritted his teeth and tried not to look at Mikey, hand reflexively twitching towards a katana.

"Wow, did I come at a bad time?" asked April.

"We may have come down with something," offered Donatello through his haze, not wanting her to leave. He couldn't remember her ever looking this hot before. He swayed a little and was rewarded with an excellent view of her cleavage.

Her hand steadied his shoulder and the other hand shot to his forehead. "Donnie, you feel like you're burning up!" He leaned into her touch wordlessly, blood draining quickly southward. "Let's go sit down before you faint," she suggested.

"Okay," he said dreamily, letting her take his hand and lead him towards the couches where Raphael and Leonardo were watching television and trying not to kill each other. He looked down at her bottom and grinned foolishly. Short shorts were wonderful. Her hair was up in a bun and she had a slight sheen of sweat over her skin. Before he could stop himself he leaned in, his lips parting, tongue slowly coming forward to taste her freckled flesh.

Michelangelo had been watching their entire exchange and felt something stir within him. Slowly he had moved from a reclined to crouched position on one side of the tire, and it dipped forward at an angle under his weight. He stared at her unnoticed as April fussed over his bumbling brother. A flush rose within him and his muscles tensed. Sure, he had always thought April was pretty, but how was it that he had never noticed all the soft curves of her body and the sexy sway of her hips as she moved? She didn't usually have so much skin exposed, maybe that was it.

April passed by a fan with Donnie in tow and it blew her scent over to him. His eyes widened. She smelled like an angel from heaven with whipped cream and a cherry on top. He licked his lips. She was holding Donatello's hand behind her entirely too close to her butt. His sneaky brother was even leaning in for a taste of the nape of her neck. Oh no, not on my watch, he thought. With supernatural speed he vaulted from the tire and halted Donatello's advance mere inches from her bared shoulder.

Startled, she let go of Donatello's hand and spun around. "Holy, Mikey! You scared me! You're so fast," she said breathlessly.

"Hey!" protested Donatello before settling into stunned silence. Mikey had just saved him from the most awkward moment of his life. Had he actually been about to lick April?

"Sorry, April," Michelangelo said coyly, flashing her his baby blue eyes. He inched in closer to her and inhaled shamelessly. "You smell really good today."

"Um, thanks," she replied, looking a little embarrassed. "It's so hot out I've probably been overdoing it with my vanilla body spray."

"Vanilla," Mikey echoed dreamily. "No wonder you smell good enough to eat." He flashed her a wicked grin and she laughed.

Donatello crossed his arms angrily. He was flirting with her! His April! Then the situation got even more out of hand. He looked over at Raph and Leo, who were peeking over the back of the couch side by side watching the wanton exchange. Their looks had started off surprised and amused, but as they got a load of April in her skimpy outfit he decided that the way they were looking at her was downright predatory.

"Dibs," Raphael said quietly to Leonardo, who snorted.

Meanwhile, April had her hands on Mikey and was telling him that he also seemed to have a fever. He grinned and looked down her shirt like she had his favorite dessert hiding in there. Donatello grabbed his brother by the ridge of his shell behind his shoulders and pulled him a respectable distance away from her. "Yeah, Mikey, we might be contagious. Stop breathing all over her for Pete's sake!"

Michelangelo shot a look over his shoulder and growled low in his chest, only loud enough for Donatello to hear.

"It's ok, I'm sure I'll be fine," April said, brushing it off. "Where's Master Splinter? It doesn't seem like him to just leave you all on your own when you aren't well."

Raphael had made his way over to her, as silent and smooth as a panther and took her hand. He looked into her eyes very seriously as he tried not to pull her into him and run off with her. "He isn't feeling very well either. He has asked to be left alone to try and stay cool. He is having a hard time with all that fur in this heat."

"Oh no, I'm sorry to hear that," April said, clasping her other hand over his. Her touch sent jolts down his shell. "Maybe I should make you some soup while I'm here? Are you hungry?"

"I'm famished, Red," replied Raphael suggestively, practically drooling.

"Starving," whined Michelangelo behind her, trying to reach out to touch her bum as Donnie wrestled to keep his brothers hands off his woman.

And Raph! The nerve! Donatello thought.

"Let me move all this junk out of the way so you don't hurt yourself," Raphael said in a low rumble.

"It's not junk!" objected Donatello. "Be careful with that or we'll never get air conditioning down here."

"Let me help you, Raph, you shouldn't even be lifting this stuff," she answered. "You look flushed too! Are all of you feverish?"

"I'm not on the verge of fainting like my wuss brothers," Raphael boasted as he made a show of lifting all the bulkier pieces, flexing his muscles and giving her sideways glances. Donatello and Michelangelo were outraged until April bent over in those jean short shorts to help him pick up the pieces. It was all they could do to lean on each other and try not to swoon. They started drifting in closer to her, eyes locked on the round, firm buttocks her shorts were doing practically nothing to conceal.

Leonardo was trying his best to stay on the couch. His hands were clutching the back of it desperately as he knelt the wrong way on the cushions so he could watch her, TV show long forgotten. His brothers were being ridiculous and not very subtle. He tried to stay calm and quell his possessive jealousy. When she bent down to help Raphael pick up pieces of the air conditioners he was disappointed that he only got a side view. Donnie and Mikey fell all over themselves at the sight, and Raph kept sneaking glances at her cleavage from his vantage point. Lucky bastards, Leo thought crossly. The deviant duo behind her were coming dangerously close. If one of them grabbed her it would be a disaster, but he couldn't make himself speak. She turned back to the two brothers just in time for them to pretend they were getting pots and bowls in panicked, jerky movements.

"You don't need to help me guys," she said, concerned. She shooed them out of the kitchen and they backed off, looking at her like scolded puppies.

Leo suddenly understood their powerlessness as she turned her back to him to open the fridge. The vegetables were in the drawers at the bottom of the fridge, and he got the full view of April's bottom hanging out of her shorts as she bent to collect them. It felt like every pint of blood in his body had just shot to his lower extremities.

"Hnn." Leo tried to bite back the sound that escaped his throat and failed. They all looked at him. He put a hand over his face and groaned. "So sick," he said pathetically, laying back on the couch and disappearing from April's line of sight.

"Oh, Leo! Just a minute," she said worriedly. He cracked an evil grin on the couch at the sound of his name coming from her lips. Her footsteps hurried across the floor towards him, and he put on his best sick face. She lifted his head and scooted under it, sitting on the couch with the back of his head cradled in her lap. She smelled like vanilla cookies with a slight tang of sweat. She had a cold wet cloth which she folded neatly and placed across his forehead as she cared for him.

He snuggled in and sighed contentedly. His brothers had all come to glare at him jealously, and when he was sure April wouldn't catch it he looked over at them and gave them a smirk that said, This is why I'm the leader. She stayed with him for a few moments, then went back into the kitchen to make them their soup. Leonardo was glowing, self-satisfied smile on his face.

"What is wrong with you guys?" Donatello hissed once she was out of earshot.

"Just took us a bit longer to notice what you did from the beginning," said Raphael.

They grinned in agreement and Donatello felt hopelessly furious. "She's mine."

"Says who?" asked Leonardo. "You?"

"Yes me! Wait, where's Mikey?"

They all looked in horror as Michelangelo sidled up beside April while she chopped the vegetables and boiled the soup stock. "So when you set the soup on, do you want to come help me sort some of my comics? I am missing a few so the story arcs are broken. I want to make a list of the ones I need and maybe you can buy them for me? I can't go into the stores but I have a little money saved up."

They all growled under their breath as she smiled back at him across the lair. "Sure Mikey, we can make a list after I'm done. You really should be resting though."

"My comics relax me. I promise when we're done you can tuck me right into my bed with a bowl of soup," he said, somehow still managing to sound innocent despite the glint in his eye. She giggled and shook her head at him, then turned back to her preparations.

Raphael ground his teeth hard enough for the others to hear. He stomped forward and yanked Michelangelo back from her just as he had leaned in to smell her hair. "Clear out, Mikey," he warned. Michelangelo sulked and went back to his brothers.

Raphael realized he was just standing there staring at her, wishing with all his might that he could lean down and take a nice bite into her bare neck and shoulders. She gave him a quick glance to find out what he wanted and he struggled for a moment. Think of something! he yelled in his head. He had a vision of April writhing under him. Not that! he scolded himself. He cleared his throat. "Ugh, would you mind not throwing out all the scraps for the vegetables you are chopping? Spike loves that kind of stuff."

"Oh, of course, Raph!" she answered happily. "He's the cutest little guy. I hope he is doing alright in this weather."

"Yeah he's loving it, but since we've all been sick he hasn't been getting much attention. You should come in and give him those treats, he'll be happy to see you."

"I'd love to, I'm almost done here."

Raphael smiled and sauntered back off to his brothers, smirking at them pointedly.

Donatello's mind was frantically trying to turn things around for himself. How had this happened? His brothers all had her wrapped around their fingers and he was just fumbling in the dark as usual. How could he get her alone first? When had it turned into a competition? Something in his brain was trying to work and he needed to shake off the fugue. When April had the soup set on the burner and came back to them, Leonardo played it up again and asked if she could sit with him.

"Of course Leo," she crooned. "You seem to be hit the hardest with this bug." She changed his facecloth and snuggled back up with him.

Donatello was torn between moments of lucidity and raging jealousy. Leonardo pulled her hand down to his plastron so her arm encircled him and lazily traced on the back of her hand with one large finger. It was so unlike anything Leo had ever done that Donatello swayed on the cusp of understanding for a moment, then went back to rage when she reacted with a little shiver and stroked his head. He had her believing he was practically on death's door and she was letting a lot of stuff slide in the wake of their 'illness.' If she only knew that they had all come down with tight shell syndrome she wouldn't be so understanding.

Raphael and Michelangelo paced around angrily like trapped jungle cats, scowling at Leo when he told them to leave and let him rest. They shifted uncomfortably, each of them trying to get her alone. They all wanted her. Now. Even Donatello was trying to find a way to lay claim to her instead of respecting her and keeping to his hope that she would one day notice him as something more than a friend.

Panic cleared his mind. The cool temperatures followed by the uncharacteristic heat had spiked their hormones, preparing them to breed. The only fever they had was spring fever. Male turtles during breeding season were aggressive to each other and even their mates. Mikey and Raph were both trying to get her to leave Leo and go with one of them, even as Leo was trying to get them to bugger off. Their tones were getting more insistent and the look in their eyes was akin to a starving man looking at a steak dinner.

April definitely noticed the tension, but didn't know what to make of it. To try and break it she got up to go stir the soup and get the scraps for Spike. Spike, in Raphael's bedroom.

Oh no no no no, chanted Donatello in his head as Raphael smiled victoriously and stalked off towards her. Donnie couldn't fight all of his brothers in the state he was in. He wasn't even positive he could win against himself. In a flash he ran over to April, scooped her up and made a mad dash for the exit before she even reached the counter. He heard all three brothers protest angrily and tucked his head and ran through the tunnels like the hounds of hell were on his heels.

She was understandably startled and struggled a bit, but she trusted him when he said it was okay, that it was extremely important she cooperate. He didn't slow down even once he was sure no one was following them. She felt so good in his arms pressed up against him. His heart pounded and his breath was ragged. They were close to her apartment and he willed himself to stay in control. Mind over body. Love over lust. He desperately tried to keep the mantra in his head even though the primal part of himself told him that he had won, they were alone, she was his and to claim his prize.

Instead he put her down under the manhole closest to her place. The loss of contact with her physically hurt and he shook a little looking at her. "You need…to go," he panted. "Don't come back until…until I call you. Only me! Sorry. Can't explain…right now. Just trust me."

"I do. Alright Donnie." She reached out to calm his quaking body but he backed away. "You guys are really weird when you're sick. I'm expecting a better explanation than alien slugs very soon."

He couldn't say anything as she turned and went up the ladder. He also couldn't resist watching as her long legs worked the rungs above him and her butt bobbed slightly with every step. He groaned. He had never felt more like a monster. When they were feeling normal again he would need to have a serious talk with his brothers. The whole fiasco could have ended very, very badly. He didn't know whether this would happen to them every spring now that they were older but it was something they would need to be on the alert for.

He returned to the lair a hot panting mess.

"That was fast," Raphael said snarkily.

"Nothing happened! I took her home before we all did something we would regret. We aren't thinking clearly. I don't know if it's the weather or the fact that it's breeding season for regular turtles, but we are obviously not in full control of ourselves right now. It will probably last another few days, maybe a week. It's hard to tell. I'm going to go lock myself in the lab until it's over."

"What are you planning on doing in there for the next few days by yourself?" Raphael snickered.

"The same thing you all should be doing. Lock yourselves up. Alone," Donatello said.

"Why would we want to do that?" asked Michelangelo, sulking.

"Because in most species of turtles if they get desperate enough the males will mount each other. I don't want to test the limits of my primal brain when it's in control. See you later."

No one moved or spoke for a moment after Donnie's departure. They did indeed hear his lock clunk into place.

"Well, see you losers in a few days then," Raphael blurted out, and they all went their separate ways.