A/N: Sorry for derailing for extra Apritello. No, I'm not - fight me!

21. THE AFTERMATH

It was the pastel light of dawn that beamed through the loft windows that slowly but surely roused April from her from deep and dreamless sleep. The smell of the barn was the first thing she registered, but it was not until she wiped strands of hay from her face that alarm set in-

Where am I?

The answer hitting sudden and hard –

Oh my GOD!

She reached back, smacking into the sleeping form of Donatello behind her. His gentle snores continued on undisturbed as she muffled back a yelp of shock. The previous evening came rushing back in vivid detail. How his plastron was cool and his arms warm; how his nervousness was tempered by his diligence; his strength by his love; how making love to him felt exactly that. Every tender moment, every heightened sensation, now compounded neatly by Donatello's arm draped over her bare waist.

My god, his body. It matches his mind.

Her eyes drifted shut once again as she threaded her feet between his smooth shins. Donatello, lost in the mire of a dream, still managed a contented sigh. If there was a word for how happy she felt, she had yet to find it.

"Morning." she whispered.

The greeting went unanswered save from his even breathing. The temptation to nestle into his shoulder and join him was strong. To feel the steady beat of his heart on her back. But by now, Michelangelo would be up, beginning on the morning chore of making bread. Likely, too, Leonardo, undertaking the first of his many training sessions.

Fuck it, she thought, a little selfishly, if they figure it out, they're all old enough to understand.

But figured out what, exactly?

She wasn't even sure herself what this was. Their whispered confessions and the heat of their bodies did little to detangle the reality of the situation. What she wanted now was to treat this fledging shift between them with the precious care it deserved. To give it time to breathe and grow. To get back to the farmhouse before they had to explain something that had not yet taken full form. At least give them time to... flesh it out.

Haha, flesh it out. Jesus fuck, April, grow up.

She twisted beneath his arm to face him and ran her thumb along his pebbly cheek. If there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that waking him would be difficult.

"Don?"

Nothing.

"Donnie?"

He answered, groggily, "Mmm?"

She kissed the tip of his face. He was all but out to the world and damned if it wasn't as cute as hell. The only time she ever saw the constant worry leave his face.

"I have to go back up to the house."

Donatello's eyes snapped open. The panic in them was undeniable. Without trying she could read the one thing they said – stay.

"It's okay." she reassured him, "I should go before the others get up."

There it was. The worry. Returned like an old friend.

"Don't worry. I'll talk with you soon."

Before he answer could answer, she sat up and grabbed her clothes. The shorts were dry but her shirt still slightly damp. And a horrible substitute for his body. She tousled strands of straw from her hair, feeling a little exposed in the light.

"Soon?" he said, voice scratchy and unsure.

Maybe he was scared, too. Of the aftermath.

"Promise."

He took her hand and kissed it, releasing her with a great reluctance, before shuffling up. It was strange, she thought, how something could be the same but different. The same but better.

"Soon." she repeated softly.

He gave a small nod of acceptance.

It took all her effort to tear herself away and walk out of the barn for the short trek back to the farmhouse. Somehow, she had snuck back in via the busted laundry door, avoiding all the creaky boards on her way upstairs, before diving straight into the shower. But there was only one thought dominating every movement she made.

Donnie...

It was strange how naked she felt without him, like he had already coded himself into her mind: whippet quick and long legs and oh so fucking delicious. The hot water wasn't helping. She exited steaming clean and smelling like Leonardo's home-made soap, before heading back downstairs in a denim shorts and tank top, an outfit that made her ass look firm and her shoulders straight, something she didn't mind showing-off after all her years of training had afforded her. She took a deep breath. Then another. It was time to get into the kitchen and sell this show.

"Hey, Mi-"

Much to her surprise, it was empty. She stopped in her tracks, thinking. If, on the off chance, Michelangelo had slept in, Leonardo would have surely kicked him out from the cushion pile of a bed come seven. But April was sure Mikey had been eager to try out a recipe for a plaited loaf this morning. He had waxed on about it at dinner the previous evening to secretly cheer everyone up after Leo's cooking.

So where was he?

Had there had been a collective decision to skip carbs? Or had the sushi last night actually given them all a mild dose of food poisoning. Whatever the reason, the quiet was a small reprieve from the chaos in her head, and with no other tasks to distract herself, she set about making her morning coffee, until soon the smell of bitter grinds filler the air. The familiar warmth of it in her mouth triggered something else, too. She felt a creeping flush on her neck, her eyes drifting shut, as the sound of Donnie's heavy rhythmic breathing echoed in her mind.

Donnie...

Her teeth dug into her lower lip as she leaned back onto the counter.

"Why, good morning, April!"

She jerked up, fumbling her cup.

"Mikey! I, uh... do you want me to get started on-"

"Shh, shh, shh-" Her fears were only amplified when he took her hand, "April. Two words - breakfast burritos."

"Great!" she repeated brightly, feeling her smile crack beneath the pressure, "That's... great!"

"April?"

The new voice in the kitchen had her whipping her head to where Donatello had seemingly materialised. Warm morning light silhouetted his form in the doorway. Her heart beat hard in her chest.

"Dee." she said softly.

Michelangelo's interest bounced back and forth between them.

"So... did the hunger finally break you, bro?"

Donatello's attention flicked over to his brother, "Pardon?"

"You know." Michelangelo volleyed back a little too innocent to be innocent, "Hunger? You hungry?"

Donatello blinked.

"I could eat." he said at last.

April bit down on her lip, trying to tamp down a snigger. Only he could possibly have returned such a loaded reply. Knowing he had hit his mark, Donnie let a tiny slip of a grin escape. He glanced at April and tilted his head towards the outside.

"Can I talk with you for a minute?"

"Sure! Is this about that... thing? The, uh, code thing?"

Donatello nodded back, "Yes, there's this small line of... code I wanted to clear up."

Michelangelo snipped an apple from the counter and took a bite.

"Oh, yeah... the code." she continued in the best impersonation of blasé she could muster, "Yeah, I had something to tell you about that, too."

"Great! I, uh, I look forward to hearing it. Shall we?"

"Absolutely!"

She cringed at how phoney it sounded, but followed Donatello outside - swearing she heard an "oh brother" follow behind them. Outside, he gestured to the porch steps and joined alongside her. They sat in silence a beat, enjoying the quiet moment together as the golden pink clouds faded to white. The morning was warming up felt good on her skin but she shivered despite herself, waiting as he tapped his feet in an effort to rid his nervous energy.

"I'm sorry." he said at last, "I couldn't wait."

A heavy sigh left her. She shouldn't have expected anything less. If something needed rectifying, fixing, resolving... Donatello was not one to put it on the backburner. She should know. The guy had stamina.

"No, I'm sorry. I should have stayed with you this morning but I thought... options. If I got back before anyone got up, we'd have time to figure out what we do next."

He turned to face her, the crease of worry between his eyes etched there once again.

"And what do you want to do... next?"

There was no missing the fear in his voice. But she was determined to quash all doubt.

"What happened last night... I don't want it to end. And if you feel the same way-"

"I do."

"I want to do this."

His eyes glistened, "Me too."

A crash from inside the house alerted them that Raphael had awoken. They both glanced over towards the kitchen window. There was little doubt Leonardo had joined his brothers by now, most likely meditating since the crack of dawn for his brothers to wake. A murmur of their voices arguing over juice confirmed it.

"So," he ventured warily, "what do you propose?"

"Well, keeping it on the down-low might be a bust." she said with a frown, "It's kind of obvious Mikey knows."

Alerted to this left-field entry, Donatello straightened, "Really?"

"What was it he used to make when Renet stayed over?"

"Breakfast burritos?" It took merely seconds for him to make the connection, "Oh."

"Yup."

A quiet chuckle escaped him: "I always liked when Renet was over."

"Those burritos were the best, weren't they?"

They fell quiet a moment, knees almost touching as they sat side by side. His fingers ticked towards hers, never quiet daring to reach. The urge to touch him back, to hold him, nearly overwhelmed her. He was still waiting for her, she realised, the restraint she sensed enough to make her light-headed. Instead, she tilted her head towards him, stopping shy of resting her head on his shoulder.

"You look beautiful." he whispered under his breath.

She swallowed hard and stared at the tips of her Cons. All of his life, and so much of hers, had been shrouded in secrecy. What was it she was trying to convince herself of earlier? That she needed more time? More secrets? She couldn't bear it. Not after all this time. Not after all these years. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed, practically feeling the grin blossom on his face.

"I don't think we need to wait another decade, do we?"

"I- uh..." he rasped, happily, "I concur."

And at the heart of it all, she knew-

"I love you."

She did not give him a chance to answer, leaning in to kiss him square on the mouth. His hand snuck around her waist and drew her closer. And all at once, everything felt... perfect.

A glaring silence from within the kitchen followed their kiss; then a Raphael-sized bellowing from the barracks:

"'S 'bout friggin' time."

...