Author's Note: *rises from the ashes* Well hello, readers! Sorry I've been absent for *checks watch* ehhh, quite some time. With all due respect, I had very good reasons as to why I was gone for so long, one of them being that I just got married! :D And if that weren't enough, I also went to Vegas for my honeymoon, moved out of state, got two new jobs, quit on of them, and got promoted from the other job! But let me tell you, I really missed writing fan fiction, so it's a pleasure to be back and updating some stories that really, REALLY needed some updating.

The beginning of this chapter stayed unfinished in my laptop for quite some time. I kept reading through it, editing a word or two, and then closed out of it uninspired to add more to it. But today, I said enough is enough and wrote as much as I could, even though this chapter still came out short in comparison. I'm not gonna lie, this chapter is a tad bit more on the 'filler' side than anything else, but it pushes the plot forward, so it should be easier for me to add to it without abandoning it for months on end. I really hope you enjoy it. :) BUT FIRST, let's give a huge thank you to the people that reviewed for the last chapter. Thank you so, so much:

TheEquestrainidiot 2.0, MissCookiiie, BubblyShell22, Adoradork, Novus Ordo Seclorum, Mewfem, Kumiko Kurkawa, Static Tesla, Leo2flyt, and Stellar.

One more note to add, the annual Stealthy Stories Fan Fiction Competition is underway and we would like anyone and everyone who loves Turtles to participate! :D We got a lot of ballots last year and we're hoping to match that number (or even succeed it) with this year's competition. So if you'd like to participate, keep a look out for any stories written in 2014 that you'd like to update. The authors would really appreciate it. :)

Okay, on with the story!

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

"Sugar, Spice, and a Splash of Mutagen"

Chapter 9

The Search is On

Leonardo tugged on the ends of his slouch beanie in frustration, the winds starting to pick up in strong gusts that made various strands of his midnight hair slap him across the face. He turned his face to the side, avoiding the stinging wisps by blowing at the strands of hair, some managing to get in his mouth. He spit them out, tongue hanging out in disgust. Brushing the rest of his tangled locks behind his ears, he turned towards Donnie. "Alright, Donnie, where to?"

"Well," Donnie started, doing the same as Leo and tucking loose, wavy strands of chocolate tresses behind his ear. Mother Nature, however, was being a cold, heartless bitch tonight and with one more powerful gust, Donatello got a mouthful of hair before he spat it out and felt his temples throbbing. "Uhm, if we go up 9th Avenue and turn onto West 57th Street, then we … we should be able to go 5th Avenue and … reach our destination. With any luck, the canister should be, ugh, intact and untou- Oh, for the love of—!" He fisted a handful of hair and kept it balled between his fingers. "Why the hell is it so damn windy tonight!?"

Raphael snickered, leaning casually against the rooftop railing with his hands shoved inside his cutoff leather jacket. "Must suck having so much hair to deal with, huh, ladies?"

Donatello glowered, his lips immediately forming into a teasing grin. "What? I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that, Molly Dyke."

Eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, Raphael pushed himself away from the railing, his hands reaching inside his jacket to pull out his sais. Coming in-between the scuffle, Leonardo held up a hand and shot his brother a stern look. "Enough. If we're going to find that canister, we need to do it now and not waste our time arguing with one another. Let's get a move on."

"Fine," Raphael bit back acidly. He pushed past his brother and with a quick glance over his shoulder, he grinned, "Race ya guys there?"

He didn't wait for an answer. Taking off in a running start, Raphael pushed himself off of the railing and lunged his body forward, sailing through the air to make it to the next building over. Like he had done a hundred times during their nightly patrols, he reached out with his hands so that he could grab onto the ledge, ready to hoist himself up and barrel roll onto the rooftop. It was almost like routine, feeling the brisk gusts of winter graze against his face. But when Raphael felt the tips of his fingers scrape and slip against the railing, his heart immediately leapt into his throat. The heavy sinking feeling of falling crashed like a sack of bricks into the pit of his stomach.

"Shit … shitshitshitshitshit!"

He flailed, thrashed, his hands groping and grabbing for anything they could grasp on to. His fingers curled around the slippery poles of the fire escape attached to the building. Rustic iron creaking against his weight, Raphael tried with all his might to keep his hold firm, his body swaying back and forth as he dangled freely above the ground. He didn't want to look to see how far he could've plummeted head-first into solid concrete, so he kept his eyes screwed shut and focused on hoisting himself onto the fire escape. He could feel his heart wedged in his throat, his chest heaving up and down in quickened pants.

"Raph!" Leo called out, his body leaning over the railing in panic. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah," Raph nodded, his body sprawled over the fire escape once he was sure he was safe. His legs were too shaky for him to stand, so he just lolled his neck to the side, staring up at his brothers who were still standing on the building he had just leapt from. "What the hell just happened?"

"The wind, maybe?" Mikey asked, his arms folded underneath his bosom to keep his body warm. Though April had warned him that skirts were definitely not ideal for winter weather, he figured a sweater would be enough to keep him warm throughout the night, thinking the warmth of his upper body would spread down to his legs. That, however, wasn't the case and he paid for it miserably by shivering where he stood, the ends of his candy apple red skirt fluttering in the harsh winds.

Donatello shook his head at Mikey's observation, tucking the Mutagen Tracker underneath his armpit. Absentmindedly, he wedged his thumb between his teeth, chewing at the nail in concentration. "It can't just be the wind. Our body mass should be able to support our gravitation, even when being propelled through the air. Perhaps – because of the transformation – we've grown too accustomed to our male muscle mass, so much so that our newly transformed female body structure feels too light."

"So because of our lack of muscle, Raph wasn't able to push himself far enough in order to make it to the next building?" Leo asked.

"That sounds a little … sexist." Mikey winced. He had now resorted to bouncing on the balls of his feet, creating movement to warm up his limbs.

"It's not sexist, it's fact," Donnie pointed out. "Perhaps the change in weight and force of the propulsion just threw Raph off. That could also be a factor."

"Not to mention those boots were so not made for rooftop running, bro," Mikey said with a chuckle.

Raph raised his foot to examine his shoe: a designer combat boot that was designed more for looks rather than durability. It had a slight heel to it, both the cap and the platform smoothed over with fine leather, making them not very ideal for running or doing any other exerting exercises in. They were simply made for what women looked for in a shoe: something cute to wear and show off. The only reason Raph had agreed to get them was because they looked pretty cool and about as masculine as all the other shoes he had to choose from. No way in hell was he going to be clopping around in some five inch stiletto heels or girly, strapped Gucci sandals. The combat boots were a nice touch, though now that they almost killed him, he wanted to rip them off his feet and chuck them across the alleyway. Screw clothes. Screw fashion. Ain't nothing wrong with running around barefoot, right?

"Guess we're gonna have to continue this mission a different way," Leo reported. He leaned over the railing to call out to his brother. "Meet us at ground level, Raph. Should be a lot safer walking through the city rather than leaping across buildings."

Raphael sneered. "Wish ya woulda came up with that conclusion before I almost wound up as a pancake."

(-)

"One point two nine kilometers north of 9th Street. Approaching target in T-minus ten minutes and counting."

Karai could hear the distinct echo of Baxter's voice coming from the Jell-O monster's external speaker through the visual monitor. Like he calculated, it was clomping down 9th Street, barreling past moving cars and screaming at any horrified bystanders that crossed its path. It caused an uproar, one that, quite frankly, Karai figured the people New York City would've grown accustomed to a long time ago, what with all the mutants running amuck and causing havoc. Surely a large Jell-O monster couldn't be too out of the norm. Nevertheless, she turned a blind eye to the creature's slurred roars. As long as Stockman got it to carry out her plan, she didn't care what damaged it caused. Or who it hurt. Right now, their main focus was April O'Neil, because with April in their clutches, she would surely bring the Turtles out from hiding. And when the Turtles came out of hiding, it was only a matter of time before their beloved master followed suit.

And oh, how thrilled Karai would be when that happens.

It was only a matter of time before the Shredder returned from Japan to carry out whatever his plans were to bring forth Hamato Yoshi and act upon his revenge. She figured her father was approaching his final resorts if he considered traveling to another country, and when the Shredder had to dig from the bottom of the barrel, he became rather … irritated. But if Karai's plans actually followed through, her father would come home to Hamato Yoshi trapped beneath their fortress, bound and ready to be stripped of any tainted honor he so righteously carried after the death of her mother. Then her father would surely reward her. Reward her how, she couldn't imagine. But a reward, regardless of what it could hold was enough to encourage Karai to push forth with her plan, shouting out orders with a sharp tongue and a hard-edged demeanor. After all, how else was she supposed to get her point across? Made things so much simpler with Baxter Stockman. The man practically turned into jelly whenever she so much raised her voice.

"Well?" She barked, causing Stockman's shoulders to jolt. "Where is she?"

"Uhm, my coordinates indicate she's near the Cineplex toward the Lincoln Center. Perhaps a few more minutes before our little friend reaches her."

"Well make it quick," Karai ordered. "We're attracting a lot of attention, so it shouldn't be long before the Turtles realize their pet monster is wreaking havoc among the city."

Baxter lowered his head, unsure of whether or not he should be asking Karai the question that was poking at his brain. "Uhm, and what happens if they don't appear, Karai? After all, there could still be a possibility that whatever caused that explosion earlier, it could've rendered them severely wounded to the point of – if not treated probably – a very slow demise?"

"There out there!" Karai shouted, her palm slamming down hard on Stockman's desk, causing him to flinch. "You said it yourself, Stockman. Their heat signatures were strong enough to linger outside through the sewer tunnels. They're alive and hiding and the only person who could possibly know where they are is April. We need her to carry out this plan. Understand?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

"Good." She straightened herself up, hands locked casually behind her back with a sense of authority. Just like her father. "Our little friend should be approaching the Cineplex shortly. Make sure he attracts as much attention as possible. Remember, the bigger the scene, the bigger the audience…."

(-)

"So what made you change your mind 'bout comin' out tonight?" Casey asked, his hands shoved casually inside his spray paint-splattered jacket.

It was weird seeing him walking around without a hockey stick, especially since he just got off of practice. Since the day April started tutoring him in trig, she never recalled seeing him without it. Made her wonder if he made a quick trip home to 'clean himself up', so to speak before meeting her at her doorstep so that they could walk to the theater. He certainly smelled decent, which means he probably showered – a first since he never normally showered before meeting with her to study. Usually he would just splash on a spritz of men's body spray, but sometimes that wasn't enough to cover up the rank stench of teenage boy sweat. And April thought the Turtles smelled bad after morning training. Nevertheless, the fact that Casey actually took the time to shower before seeing a movie with her was a sweet gesture; one that she wasn't sure flattered her or downright petrified her. What did he think this was? A date?

Shaking her head, she realized she had taken too long to answer his question and quickly came up with a remark before the silence dragged any further. "Uhh, well, my cousins decided to turn in early for the night. Today was a pretty long day for them, what with the early flight and showing them around the city and such."

"And they were okay with that?" Casey asked with a raise of an eyebrow. "Your cousin, Donna didn't really seem to like me very much."

"Oh, forget about her." April waved her hand as if shooing a fly away. "What I do is my business, not anyone else's. If I wanna go see a movie with someone, then I'll go see a movie. It shouldn't matter who I-"

She paused, temples throbbing in sheer, painful pulses. They stopped her in her tracks, causing her to release a tiny, uncomfortable moan, though she tried to shake it off because Casey noticed.

Realizing they reached the theater, she encouraged Casey to go grab the tickets, ushering him in line while she stepped aside for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Her temples seemed to dull into a small, annoying ache, though she couldn't shake the feeling that something was approaching. Something big. Feeling the vibrations beneath her feet, it wasn't long before April heard faint screaming coming from around the corner of the Cineplex, a small crowd of bystanders pushing past the people that were standing around the theater.

It wasn't until then that April caught glimpse of what was emerging from around the corner, her jaw slack and her skin losing color, the bright green glow of its large, gelatin-like hand reflecting through her pale blue eyes.

"Heeeerrrreeee fooooorrrrr yooouuuuu," the monster slurred, it's heavy, thick legs striding towards her. "Heeerrreee fooorrr yooouuu, Aaaaapppprrrilllll O'Nnnneeaaallll!"