Georgia On My Mind

Raphael liked Georgia. Everything was so pretty and green and undeveloped. Georgia just had a more 'country' feel to it. Tall pines lined the roads, which dwindled from multilane highways to simple two lane country roads. Further south, grand oaks and cypress trees began to push out the pines and swampland began to replace the sand and red clay that Georgia was inexplicably built on. By the time Raphael got to Savannah he felt like he was in a scene from 'Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil'.

Turning west from Savannah, Raph headed out into the swamplands with a new goal for his trip to Georgia. He wanted to see an alligator. Not some farm raised, chicken fed pet reptile; he wanted to see a wild alligator that braved the odds, fought for dominance and occasionally ate some snowbird's dog. He wanted to see a gator that had lived and loved and lost. He wanted to see a mini Leatherhead.

Raphael estimated that he was about halfway to Alabama, way back along some dirt road when he found what he was looking for. A scaly tail about the right size and shape to belong to Godzilla was sticking out of the bushes. Raphael pulled his bike over and hid it behind some trees out of habit. Then he picked his way through the underbrush and looked on the reptilian leviathan. Holy Crap. He had wanted to see a 'mini Leatherhead', not a 'roughly the same size, might give the real Leatherhead a run for his money Leatherhead'. The huge beast lay perfectly still on the sandy bank, soaking up the sun. Wow, to see something like this . . . . A wild creature so huge and powerful, without the help of any kind of mutagen at all. If only the guys could see this. Raph grinned to himself, then pulled out his shell cell and took a picture of the huge gator. He titled it: 'Tell Leatherhead I found his Daddy', then e-mailed it to Donatello. Raph didn't think they could find him that way, but it would let them know he was all right.

Without warning, the alligator suddenly jerked and sprinted into the water, hitting the waves with a loud splash. Raph jumped back when the animal moved, but it didn't seem particularly concerned with him. The gator surfaced again almost immediately, raised its head and tail out of the water and bellowed. The sound was so deep and guttural it caused the water over the gator's back to dance from the vibration. Raph frowned. What could have upset the beast? The creature bellowed again. This time there was an answering noise. Raph jumped back under the protective limbs of a grand oak just as the 'wump-wump-wump' of a helicopter reached his ears. The chopper passed overhead, just clearing the tops of the trees. Raph's frown deepened as he watched it go by. It wasn't some small news helicopter or even a medivac; it was one of those big military helos with the two huge rotors on top. What was it doing all the way out here? And what as it doing so low? It was almost like . . . . .like it was trying to avoid radar. Why would it need to do that? It was a military aircraft. The gator swam in the direction the chopper had taken, bellowing defensively. At the end of the gator pond it whipped its head back towards the road and bellowed again. Raphael crouched down behind the trunks of the oak as a convoy of trucks roared along the dirt road, slopping clay mud every which way as they tried to maintain highway speed. Raphael's mouth dropped open. He had seen trucks like that before. During the raid on the government lab that had captured them when they met Pele and Makai, Raphael had seen trucks with that exact body, with those logos on the side, parked in the basement garage of the facility. Makai had told them later that she had been taken off of the Navy ship in San Diego and transported across country in one of those trucks. So who were they after now?

Leaving his bike hidden, Raphael pulled out his sai and followed the trucks and helicopter. The gator watched him go impassively. There were always turtles about in the swamp. The giant gator either ate the ones that were small enough for him to catch or ignored the sharp-billed snappers. This new one was no snapper, but he was too big to swallow and didn't make enough noise for the gator to worry about.

The helicopter and trucks converged on an old house. At one time, it was probably a grand mansion, but time and several generations of a very unique style of repairs had left it to be half-reclaimed by Nature. Instead of paying for proper bricks laid out by professional stonemasons, someone had carted in huge erratically shaped stones from someplace where they grew wild and replaced the foundations with them. The grand oaks flanking the building had probably been saplings when the house was originally built. Now they had grown so large that they actually grew into the house. Fresh boards were nailed between the branches to form walls. One limb emerged from the roof.

Raph peered out from the safety of the underbrush as armed soldiers emerged from the trucks, quickly surrounding the house. A well-dressed man stepped out of one of the trucks. He was tall and dark-skinned. He looked Polynesian . . . . Samoan or Hawaiian or something. The tall man took a megaphone from one of the soldiers and held it to his lips.

"Oh, Miss Malone," he called. "You've led us on quite a chase, Miss Malone. It's been what . . . . . . almost a year now, hasn't it?" Silence reigned from inside the small house. "Look, we found the barn in Minnesota. We know about the children." Raph frowned. What was going on? Why were they tracking down some lady with kids? "You must have been frightened," The tall man said softly, almost sympathetically. "Out there all by yourself giving birth in some old barn; and to triplets, no less! Well done!" Still no movement from the house. The tall man gave a quick nod of his head and a few of the soldiers started to move in on the house. "We know the children were . . . . deformed. It was just an experiment; we never meant for it to go so long. The pregnancy would have been terminated long before you even knew about it. You just had to escape when you did. We didn't find any bodies at the scene, so we know you had to take them with you. If you abandoned them somewhere or . . . put them out of their misery, we will understand. No one's angry with you, Miss Malone." The first soldier, gun at the ready, slowly pushed open the door. A second later, the front half of the house exploded.

Raphael picked himself up off of the ground just as and old man with an equally old dog balanced across his shoulders leapt up from a neighboring bush and ran off into the swamp, cackling maniacally. For lack of anything better to do, Raphael followed him.

The old man scampered through the unstable quagmire with the practiced ease of someone who's been doing it his whole life. Raphael did his best to follow silently, even though the old dog was watching him impassively from his owner's shoulder. Raph looked down for a moment to navigate a particularly wide mud hole and looked up into the barrel of a .45 revolver. Behind the smoked glass of his helmet visor, Raph's eyes went wide. He had only looked down for a fraction of a second; this old man had reflexes like a snake on hot tin.

"Whoa! Easy, man; I'm not with them!" Raph cried, throwing up his hands. For a moment it looked like the old man was about to blow his head off anyway, but then something caught his eye. He was looking at Raphael's hands. He was counting Raphael's fingers. None of the four brothers made any effort to disguise their hands when in disguise. People rarely noticed little things like hands unless they absolutely had to. This old man had picked up on it instantly, though.

"I bet you only got two toes on each foot, too," he said levelly. "Not t' mention the green skin." Raph didn't say anything, just pulled his helmet off.

"How'd you know?" He asked.

"I seen your young-uns," the old man said simply. Raph blinked.

"My – my – my what?"

"Young-uns." The man spared a disgusted look back towards the house where the Mutant hunters were now searching the rubble. "Them bastards kidnapped my little granddaughter after she was in a car accident and told us she got killed." The old man snorted. "We knowed that wouldn'ta killed our Maggie. She only got run over by a semi; that wouldn'ta killed a Malone. She showed up here a couple'a weeks ago with three little babies. Said them bastards had kept her in some kinda laboratory and did all kinda experiments on her. She escaped, but she was in a family way from one of those experiments. Had three little babies; cutest things you ever did see, but they's all green, like you, with six fingers and four toes each and a little soft shell on their backs. I sent Maggie to an old house I got in Louisiana last night." Raphael opened his mouth. No sound came out, so he closed it. Then opened it again. This time he managed to force out a few words.

"Th-three babies? They're mine?" Grandpa Malone gave Raphael a hard look.

"That's why you're here, ain't it? To find 'em? Ain't no kinda man don't look after his chil'uns."

"'Chil'uns?'" Raph echoed weakly. The young turtle thought hard. The same government agency that had captured him about a year ago had certainly put him through enough pokes and prods. Well, all of them, really. And somehow the lab goons had figured out that this girl was genetically compatible . . . . and she had given birth? Three babies . . . triplets . . . wow. Wait; Raph had to find her before these goons got a hold of them. This Maggie had obviously managed to escape once, but now she was toting around three infants and would be much more susceptible to recapture. Even if these kids were one of his brothers, he still needed to get them safely back to New York. "Where in Louisiana is this house?" He asked. Grandpa Malone smiled.

"Good boy," he growled. "Now come on; we need t' git further away from that house."

"Oh, yeah, we don't need those bastards catching us," Raph agreed, following the old man as he started back into the swamp. Back at the house, the helicopter started up, lifting off from the driveway.

"Heheh, I'm more concerned about what they're gonna find in th' basement," Grandpa Malone cackled, sprinting through the mire. Before Raphael could ask, a second explosion ripped through the swamps. Barbed wire, ceiling joists and roofing nails ripped through the house, the makeshift shrapnel shredding flesh and tearing vehicle bodies. An ancient potbellied stove flew through the roof like a cannonball, tearing off the back rotor of the helo. The helicopter dropped like a stone, sending up a tidal wave of brackish water as it shot through the sandy soil and cemented itself firmly in the red clay underneath. After a moment of almost painful silence, the great alligator surfaced by the wrecked aircraft, lifted his head and tail out of the water and bellowed triumphantly.

A beat up old truck squealed around a corner, kicking up gravel from the shoulder of the road. The vehicle was technically an SUV, in the same way that timber wolves and toy poodles are technically the same species. The patchwork vehicle looked like a local madman who had made it with his own three hands had built it sometime in the previous century. The body was that of a blue and white '78 International Scout, but the frame was obviously from a larger and more rugged truck. The huge, knobby tires looked like they could scale mountains on their own. After all this patched up bodywork, one might expect the engine to sputter and rattle, but instead the motor roared along, easily keeping ahead of the six police cars that were chasing it.

The young blonde woman at the wheel seemed very unconcerned about this fact, dividing her attention between the road and her pursuers. As she roared along, the bright Southern sky quickly turned to gray as smoke began billowing across the road. A steady stream of traffic heading in the other direction provided plenty of distraction for the police. The young woman looked over sharply as the flicker of flames became visible through the pines.

"Controlled burn my ass," Maggie Malone growled.

In one of the following police cars, Deputy Ray 'Stevens' Clower was having a hard time. He was easily the best shot in the county and normally he could have taken out the tires without a backwards glance, but two things were staying his hand. One was the steady stream of oncoming traffic trying to flee the wildfire. The bullet ricocheting off of the asphalt could injure or kill an innocent bystander. The driver of the Scout wasn't doing anything particularly reckless; she just wasn't stopping. The second thing that stopped him from firing was the small yellow sign hanging in the back window of the fugitive vehicle. It said 'Baby On Board'.

"Damn it, Stevens, take the shot!" The sheriff roared. Before the deputy could comply, a wall of black smoke engulfed the road, completely obscuring the fleeing vehicle. Stevens put the rifle to his shoulder ready to fire as soon as the smoke cleared. A gust of wind blew the smoke out of the way. Deputy Clower lowered his rifle. There was a clear shot now, but nothing to shoot at. The blue and white Scout was gone.

Maggie swore again as the truck crashed through a small stream hard enough to rattle her teeth. She had ditched the highway in favor of one of the dirt access roads that wound through the strands of pines, but the going wasn't easy. After the last bone-jarring lurch, a thin, high-pitched wail filled the cab. Maggie reached over distractedly.

"Oh, Emmy, I know; shhshhhhh. Don't get your sisters started," she pleaded. But to no avail, two more cries joined the first. Maggie slumped over dejectedly. "Emerald, Sapphire, Diamond, it's okay, babies! Ssssshhh, there there," she crooned. In the three car seats lashed to the seat behind her, three very special newborns voiced their displeasure with the world around them. Their skin was all the same vibrant shade of emerald green. They all had three stubby fingers on each hand and two nubbin little toes on each foot. Wisps of dark hair showing a soft curl were scattered over their scalps like the remnants of a defeated army. On the left side of each of their heads, their mother had attached a small bow, one green, one blue, and one white. Before Maggie could consider consoling them further, the sight of flames in her rearview mirror had her stomping down on the accelerator.

The Scout lurched and bounced through the pines, just managing to stay ahead of the leaping flames. The infant triplets continued to cry. Maggie looked back to try and console them, saw the fire coming up way too fast, turned back to the access road and nearly ran over two smokejumpers. She swerved sharply to avoid them. They had dug a trench in the middle of the road and were buckling down to try to ride through the flames. The wind must have shifted the direction of the fire and the imposing wall of flame trapped them. They were going to burn to death. Shit.

Maggie stomped on the brakes and opened the drivers' side door a crack. The two firefighters were running towards the stopped car.

"Get in the back!" She yelled, popping the top hatch on the back door. Without a second's hesitation, the soot stained pair piled into the back of the Scout, axes, shovels, and all. Maggie popped the clutch, throwing the truck into gear as one of the firefighters pulled the back door shut more quickly than had ever been done before. The roar of the fire sounded like a train engine. It drowned out all other noise, even the wailing of the babies. One of the smokejumpers stared at her in the rear view mirror and said something that might have been:

"Jesus, lady, what are you doing out here!"

"Saving your ass!" Maggie retorted, not knowing or caring if he heard her. She floored the Scout, sending it flying just ahead of the flames. Soot and ash rained down across the hood, turning day to night. It was so dark Maggie nearly missed the turn-off onto the main road, but managed to crank the wheel and slalom back onto the pavement. Their speed quickly picked up as they headed towards the crest of a hill. The firefighters let out a desperate cheer. They stopped abruptly.

It was a tiny noise, so small it shouldn't have even been noticed over the roar of the fire, the cries of the triplets and the cheering of the smokejumpers, but it cut through all of that like a hot knife through butter.

The engine sputtered.

Then it coughed.

It sputtered again, obviously in serious distress.

After a second that seemed to last an eternity, a flurry of activity hit the inside of the Scout. Maggie began desperately fiddling with the clutch and choke, trying to find the right combination that would make up for the engine's lack of oxygen. The two smokejumpers began rocking back and forth, chanting 'Come on, baby, come on baby!' with all the faith and desperation of a condemned prisoner chanting the Lord's Prayer. The engine rattled, choked and died. The Scout teetered at the crest of the hill. Behind them the flames leaped forward, as if trying to make up for lost time. Maggie quickly threw it into neutral, trying to restart. The firefighters began their rocking and chanting again. The Scout shuddered, and then, s-l-o-w-l-y began to roll forwards. The heavy steel truck quickly gained momentum, hurtling back down into a valley. Halfway down, they hit clear air and the engine caught again. The road followed the path of a river, keeping low in the clear air between the hills. With plenty of air for the engine and a good road, the patchwork vehicle quickly carried them out of the path of the fire. When sunlight broke through the smoke, the firefighters cheered again.

"You saved our asses, lady!" One cried in delight. "You're either the bravest girl I've ever met, or the craziest!"

"Or both!" The other declared, laughing in relief. Maggie laughed too. This was great; they were all safe and the cops weren't chasing her anymore. Now if the jewels would only stop crying . . . . One of the smokejumpers stopped laughing abruptly. Her instincts for trouble honed to a razor point, the young human girl looked at the stranger in the rear-view mirror. The firefighter was staring down into the backseat. He hadn't even heard the babies crying over the fire and the adrenaline rush. Now he looked down and saw them for what they were.

"Jesus, lady . . ." he whispered. The second firefighter looked down, taking in the obviously non-human triplets. Maggie slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt only a few hundred yards from where a group of motorists had stopped to stare at the fire. The girl reached under the dashboard and came up with a .357 Magnum handgun.

"Ride's over! Get out!" She snapped. The pair piled out of the back of the truck only a bit slower than they had piled in. With a squeal of burning tires, the Scout accelerated and quickly disappeared.

Raphael slowed his bike down as he tried to navigate around the forest fire that was blocking his path. He stopped by a group of rubberneckers and pulled out a map. Let's see, Mr. Malone had said to take that road, but the fire had blocked it off. But if he took this road to this road, it should meet up just ahead of the turn off. Raphael was so caught up in his map that it took him a minute to hear what was going on around him.

"I'm telling you, it was some psycho blonde girl in a blue and white truck and she had three little alien babies in the backseat! They were all green and they only had three fingers, and-!"

"Alien babies?" Raph looked up. The speaker was a firefighter covered in soot and ash that cascaded off of his gear every time he moved. He moved a lot, as he was gesticulating wildly to try to convince the couple he was talking to that what he had seen was true. The local couple was exchanging a look, while others around them murmured about 'smoke inhalation' and 'traumatic stress disorders'.

"I know it sounds crazy, but Jonesy saw them too, didn't you, Jonesy?" The second firefighter had been gazing out across one of the roads. He turned when he heard his name.

"Huh? What?"

"Tell them that crazy girl that picked us up in the fire had three aliens in the back seat! Tell them I'm not crazy!" Jonesy hesitated. She was a crazy girl to be driving through a forest fire. Only crazy people ran into a fire. Sane people, however, could be chased into a fire. And she had stopped to pick them up. She didn't have to do that. If anyone was chasing her, they were obviously after the three kids. Aliens or not, those babies had been clean and well fed, better fed than the girl caring for them. And they had little bows on their heads and little stuffed toys with them in their car seats. Someone loved those babies. Someone loved them enough to drive through a forest fire to try to keep them safe. And that someone had stopped to pick up two stranded smokejumpers, even though they could put her in danger by blabbing about her children.

"I . . . I don't know what you're talking about, buddy," Jonesy said solemnly. "There weren't any babies . . . just a girl. You must have imagined it." His partner stared at him like he had just been stabbed, but the locals moved forward, instructing the obviously 'disturbed' firefighter to have a seat on someone's tailgate while others brought him a cold drink and suggested therapy.

Raphael jogged towards Jonesy, pushing his bike along.

"Hey, buddy, this girl; how long ago was she here?"

"What girl?"

"The girl that picked you up in the fire. You know, the one who didn't have three green babies in the back seat?" Raph said meaningfully.

"Uh . . . . who wants to know?" Jonesy said with distrust.

"Their father." Raphael stated flatly.

"What?" Raph gave a tense sigh, then peeled up the wrist of his jacket, showing off the shade of his skin. "Ah . . . oh. She took this road here; took off like a bat out of hell."

"How long ago?" Raph said, mounting his bike.

"Like . . . . ten, fifteen minutes." Raphael didn't even bother to thank the man, just opened up the throttle and laid down rubber.

Half realized possibilities and what-ifs tormented Raphael as he sped along the country road. What if Maggie turned off on another road and he drove right past her? How was he going to get her to stop? If Grandpa Malone were any indication, she wouldn't hesitate to deal with anyone trying to stop her.

But she had stopped for those two firefighters.

Raph felt a strange warmth at that thought. Sure, she had probably taken out more than her fair share of government goons in her escape, but she had saved two people who didn't mean her any harm. With a start, Raph realized he felt proud. Damn it, he couldn't help it. This girl . . . . woman had fought her way free of the government laboratories, successfully carried and gave birth to turtle triplets on her own, and now still fought and evaded the government goons, but she still stopped to do the right thing. Maggie Malone was definitely the kind of woman you wanted birthing your race.

Maggie gently lowered herself onto a folded sleeping bag under a tree by the side of the road. She really should keep moving; those firefighters were sure to run their mouths about what they'd seen. But her children were crying. Maggie just needed a rest stop to comfort them and see if they needed a diaper change. The young mother turned to the blanket where the triplets lay neatly in a row. Diamond had stopped crying as soon as she had been taken out of her car seat. Sapphire was still fussing a bit, but the change in scenery had her looking around with wide-eyed amazement. Emerald made up for her sisters' sudden calm with a wail that echoed off of the hills. Maggie picked up the green-bowed babe, bouncing her gently.

"Come on now, Emmy. Shhhh, shh, it's all right." Emmy paused for a moment, but unfortunately it was to suck in another deep breath. Maggie cringed back from the angry scream that came out of her child. "Emmy! I know you're pissed! Damn girl, where did you get that temper?"

Raphael almost missed them. The most important people in his life right now and he almost drove straight past them. The blue and white truck was almost black with soot. Maggie had pulled it over behind a clump of trees. Raph would have gone right by it if a high-pitched wail hadn't caught his attention. He whipped the bike around sideways, leaving two trails of rubber as it screeched to a halt. The young turtle barely took the time to put down the kickstand before he started running towards them. Raphael ran towards Maggie, his heart hammering in his chest. He tried to take everything in at once; the slim build, the fair skin, the blonde curls, and above all, the tiny green figure she clutched to her chest.

He was so caught up in the big picture he almost didn't catch her reaching behind her back until he saw the gleam of sunlight on polished metal. She was going for a piece. Instinct took over. One of Raphael's sai flashed. There was a thud and Maggie's gun hung from a tree trunk by the trigger guard, pinned neatly by the middle prong of Raph's sai.

"Damn, sorry! No, wait! You're Maggie Malone, right!" Raph blurted. "I'm Raphael!" Maggie's expression was a curious blend of hostility and confusion.

"And . . . . that means what to me?" She asked. Raph cursed under his breath, tore off his helmet and slung off his biker jacket.

"Those are my kids!"

"These kids," Maggie announced firmly, "Are mine." She looked like she wanted to say more, but looked Raphael up and down curiously.

"Oh, I know! I'm not saying they're not! But those government lab goons that captured you had me for a while, too. They must have used my DNA to get you pregnant. That makes me the father." Raph slowly started to approach Maggie, trying to get a better look at the baby in her arms. "They're mine, too. I gotta take care of my kids . . . . she's so small. Is she supposed to be that small? Why is she crying?"

"Maybe because someone threw a . . a . . whatever the hell that thing is at her mama!" Maggie cried, gesturing at Raph's sai.

"You pulled a gun on me!" Raph protested.

"You scared me!" Maggie retorted. That one stopped Raph cold. While he had always prided himself in his ability to put fear into his enemies, it didn't feel the same when it was a woman with a baby. Especially not a woman with his baby. It felt downright rotten. You weren't supposed to scare the mother of your children. Only greasy rednecks that made repeat appearances on COPS did that.

"I'm – I'm sorry," Raph muttered. "I've just been looking for you and-."

"That's another thing; how'd you find me! How did you know about the jewels! Why should I believe anything you say?"

"Your grandfather sent me! I saw the trucks from the labs and thought I'd get in a little payback, but I met your grandfather and he told me about the babies and gave me directions to the house in Louisiana. Here, look." Raph pulled out the scribbled directions and held it out towards Maggie. She took it hesitantly, as if expecting him to make a grab for the baby she held. A gurgle made Raphael look over. Two more babies were lying on a blanket under a tree. They were so tiny.

"This is Pa's handwriting," Maggie admitted. She fixed Raphael with a calculating look. "What was he wearing?"

"What?" The question was so out of the blue he didn't know what to make of it.

"What clothes was Pa wearing when you talked to him?"

"Uh . . . . . he had on brown pants, and a brown shirt with white buttons. Oh, and a white undershirt."

"What kind of dog did he have with him?"

"A really, really, really, really old Golden Retriever." Now he knew what she was after; if the agency had caught Pa and forced him to turn over the directions to this house, Raph might not have ever actually seen him. And even if he had, the agency would have taken his dog away. "What's this about jewels? I thought you just had the triplets."

"I do. But I named them after gemstones, so I just call them the jewels sometimes." Maggie relaxed, handing back the directions. Raph threw her a nervous smile, and then leaned in close to get a good look at the baby she was holding. Maggie sighed. Here it came; the wide-eyed shock, the revulsion, and then the look of horror whenever someone saw one of her daughters.

"Oh my God . . . ." Raphael breathed. "She's beautiful." Maggie blinked. Well, it made sense that he'd think his own kids were beautiful. Still, it felt good to hear someone say it. "God, she's so little. What's her name?"

"Emerald. I call her Emmy sometimes." Emmy continued to cry, upset by all the yelling and hostility going on. Raph stroked one of her chubby cheeks with one finger.

"Hey, you, what's with all the noise?" Emerald turned towards his touch in full-on wail, which abruptly died when she saw his face. Emerald's eyes widened, then narrowed, her eyes searching every inch of Raphael's face as if memorizing every feature. Despite herself, Maggie grinned.

"Who is that?" She whispered to Emerald. "You thought the jewels were the only green ones."

"Hey little girl, I'm your Daddy," Raph said, still stroking her cheek with one finger. "I'm gonna take care of you." Emerald looked away for a moment, looked up at her mother, and then turned her attention back to Raphael. "Can I hold her?" He asked Maggie. The young mother tightened her hold on the baby, taking a step backwards.

"I'd rather you didn't . . ."

"Come on, here," Raphael reached past her to pull his sai out of the tree trunk. He offered Maggie her pistol butt first. "You can shoot me if I do anything you don't like." Maggie was quick to reclaim her firearm. Raphael held out his hands for his daughter.

"I just want to hold her. Please?" Maggie eyed him for a few minutes longer, and then placed her pistol back in the holster at the small of her back. Gingerly, she handed over Emerald to Raphael.

"Mind her little soft spot. Be sure to support her head," she said nervously. She needn't have worried. Raph's hands, proportionately much larger than a humans', combined with Emerald's small size meant that he could cradle his daughter in both hands quite easily. One of the other babies began to cry. Maggie backed away from Raphael reluctantly and knelt to gather her other two daughters into her arms.

"Shssshh, it's okay Sapphie, Mommy's got you," she crooned. She started to turn back to Raph, but was surprised to find him sinking down to sit on the other side of the blanket from her, Emerald carefully cradled in his hands.

"What are their names?" Raph asked, nodding to the pair Maggie held.

"This one's Sapphire and this sleepy little girl is Diamond," she said, snuggling first the baby with the blue bow, then the white-bowed one. Diamond gave a toothless, sleepy smile at the cuddle.

"Oh my God! Mikey used to make that face when he was little!" Raph cried in delight. "Why didn't you name them all after green jewels?"

"Because Emerald, Jade, and Tourmaline didn't sound as good. Besides, there are green sapphires and green diamonds. Who's Mikey?" Maggie said, starting to let her guard down.

"My little brother, Michelangelo."

"You have a brother?" Maggie asked, clearly surprised.

"I have three," Raph said. "Oh, look, she's holding my finger!" Emmy had managed to wrap her tiny fingers around the tip of Raphael's finger. "Feel that grip; you're strong! You're gonna be a great ninja, huh?"

"Uh . . . . so how do you know the jewels are yours? Couldn't they be your brothers'?" Maggie asked. Raph didn't look up from Emmy, but his expression darkened.

"They're mine. I'm gonna take care of them. I'm gonna take care of all of you," he said, looking up at Maggie. The young mother was speechless. After moment, Raph dropped his head again and studied the baby in his arms. " 'Sides, the jewels' skin is the same color as mine."

Maggie was silent. This Raphael seemed bound and determined to act as a father to her children. Not that she minded someone wanting to help her raise the triplets, but it was just a bit unexpected. A young girl in this day and age fully expected any man to run screaming at the mention of a possible pregnancy, but Raphael here had sought her out and wanted the girls as his own even though they might not be his. Maggie just wasn't quite sure what to make of him. She had seen some pretty strange shit in her life and to be completely honest, she found Raphael's yearning for paternity to be stranger than the fact that he wasn't human. But he was pretty upset now; if these brothers of his felt the same way he did about babies, it would be a hell of a fight over got to raise them. He did have the same bright, emerald green skin as the jewels, though. Maggie felt bad for bringing it up.

"So, a ninja, huh?" She said.

"Yeah. We all study the ancient art of ninjitsu, the art of invisibility," Raph said. "And so will these three."

"Wow. My family follows the Irish martial arts," Maggie offered. At Raph's blank look, she continued. "It's called Fck Yu. It involves a lot of head butting and kicking people when they're on the ground." Raphael laughed. Maggie smiled; glad she could appease the strange guy. It really was quite nice out here under the trees; sitting with her babies and one odd man promising to take care of them all. It was almost relaxing. Maggie sighed, turning her face towards the sunlight. She closed her eyes. It seemed like forever since she had taken a moment to sit and relax.

Raph looked up when Maggie sighed. She seemed like a cool girl. He really didn't hold it against her that she had pulled a gun on him. She was just trying to protect her babies. You couldn't blame a mother protecting her child. Maggie tossed her hair over her shoulder and tilted her head back, soaking up the sun. The golden rays set her blonde hair aglow, giving her a halo effect. Raph smiled. A Mutant Madonna complete with a science assisted Immaculate Conception. Of course, no Madonna anywhere packed heat and Raph was pretty sure the Virgin Mary never swore like a sailor either. Still, she did look angelic in the sunlight. Raphael's gaze drifted downwards and his smile faded. Where Maggie should have shown the plump curves of a nursing mother, he saw only the light shadows of her ribcage. Her collarbone jutted out sharply and Raph noticed exactly how thin her arms were for the first time. Maggie was a bag of bones.

"You're skinny," Raph said without preamble.

"Not bad for three weeks after birth, huh?" Maggie said ruefully, shrugging.

"No; you're too skinny," he said flatly. Maggie looked down.

"It was easier getting something to eat when I was still pregnant; I could blend in with a crowd and people felt sorry for me because I was a unwed pregnant waif. Now I have to stay out of sight. A good meal's harder to come by."

"Can you still . . . make milk like that?" Raph asked.

"It hasn't run out yet," Maggie said quietly. Raphael was silent for a moment.

"How far are we from the house?" he asked.

"Um, like two hours."

"What's the nearest city?"

"Lake Charles is just south of here," Maggie answered. "It just used to be a big town, but the casinos really stimulated the economy."

"Casinos? Perfect," Raph said. He gently transferred Emmy back into her mother's arms, and then placed a kiss on each of the jewels' heads.

"I'll meet you at the house. And don't worry. I'm gonna take care of you. All of you." With that, Raphael gathered up his jacket and helmet from where he had thrown them down and mounted his bike, starting off towards Lake Charles.

"Man, what a haul! Let me tell you, the casinos sure have improved our lives!"

"There's got to be a hundred thousand here. Not bad for a night's work! Too bad he can't say the same!"

"Please, I need that money. Just fifty thousand; you can keep the rest. Please!" This plea drew a round of laughter. Raphael peered into the warehouse. There were three attackers, gloating over a smaller man who had obviously taken a sound beating. The small man was wearing a plastic lei and a T-shirt that declared him the big winner. Raph left the shadows and walked into the light.

"Don't tell me you three actually need a hundred thousand dollars? What, are personality transplants that expensive these days?" The three turned towards him and laughed again.

"You get tired of the house odds, boy? Let me guess; 'Baby needs a new pair of shoes!'" One laughed. He might have been any goon from Brooklyn except for the accent and the fact that he was wearing a John Deere baseball cap. Raph grinned to himself.

"My babies need a new pair of everything." Without any further ado, the young father tossed off his helmet for full visibility and rushed the thugs. John Deere took a roundhouse to the head and went down like a stack of cards. The second Raph hit with the butt of his sai, knocking the human man unconscious and breaking his nose at the same time. The third tried to grab the money and run. Raph hurled his sai, hitting the runner in the back of the head with the butt. The thief went down like a puppet with its strings cut. It was over before it started. The victim threw his hands over his head as Raphael approached him.

"Don't hurt me, just take it!" Raph reached into the bag and drew out one carefully wrapped bundle of cash; probably a couple thousand dollars.

"Can I just have this one?" The terrified man glanced at the money briefly.

"Sure, fine, whatever!" Raph pocketed the bundle, then tossed the rest of the money at the big winner. He gave the turtle a terrified look, then ran for the door. Raph retrieved his helmet and melted back into the shadows.

The next morning, Ulysses 'Pappy' Circe watched his wife wring her hands in distress.

"Lordy, Dad, what's the world coming to when someone would steal from a run-down place like this? It's terrible times we're living in, I'm telling you!" Pappy looked around at the tiny general store that barely turned a profit any more. Someone had gone around the back, broken a lock, and helped themselves to about a third of his merchandise.

"I reckon we'd better call the sheriff," he sighed. The pair headed up to the cash register to use the phone.

"I'll call," Minnie sighed, picking up the phone and dialing. "We're havin' enough trouble with the bank and now this! What next!" Pappy reached over, very gently removed the phone from his wife's hand and put it back down in the cradle.

"Dad! I have to call the sheriff!"

"It's all right, Mother," Pappy said quietly, still staring at the counter. Minnie turned around. Laid out on the old, chipped counter was one thousand dollars and a list. For a few moments, there was just silence. Pappy picked up the list. It was a list of everything that had been taken.

"How much you think all that stuff was worth, Dad?" Minnie asked.

"Maybe three hundred and fifty dollars. Plus ten bucks to fix the lock." Minnie's eyes lit up. "So I reckon we don't need to call the sheriff. I reckon it was just someone who needed some food late at night. That kinda thing could happen to anyone." Pappy put the list down and started gathering up the money. "And whoever it was didn't want to go to the supercenter up the road. I kin understand; I can't stomach the place myself. In fact, maybe we should hold off on fixin' the lock in case they need something else." Minnie picked up the list. "Maybe we should stock up on what they took. Let's see, there was lots of bacon, hamburger, bread, milk, eggs, cheese; all the basics, really, an' none o' that low-fat crap everybody eats. Lots of vegetables, too. The young fella recognized quality when he saw it, I kin tell you. Maybe we'll get some watermelons for him, and the peaches in the back yard are just about ripe-."

"Baby food." Minnie interjected. "We'll need more baby food."

Raphael finished his morning kata. He took a moment to appreciate being able to practice in such unspoiled natural beauty, then picked up his Shell Cell and tried to call home again. No luck; he still wasn't getting a signal all the way out here. He sighed and gathered his things up before heading back to the small house. They could stay here for a couple of weeks while Maggie regained her strength, but then he wanted to get the jewels and their mother back to the Lair for safekeeping. And that was going to another sticking point; he hadn't yet told Maggie he wanted to take her and her infants to a sewer. That was going to be an interesting conversation. Raph wasn't dreading the fight itself, just how mad Maggie was going to be when he had to tie her up and take her to New York whether she wanted to go or not. With a sigh, he headed back to the small house. When he was at the door, the scent of something wonderful sent his salivary glands into over drive.

"What smells so good?" Raph called, stepping into the rickety shack.

"Breakfast!" Maggie called cheerfully. She still wore the same weathered jeans and tank top she had on the night before, but a spare sheet had been sacrificed to make two baby slings. Sapphire and Diamond shared a sling from her left shoulder to the right side of her waist and Emerald got her own sling on the other side. "I didn't know what you'd like, so I made a bit of everything. I was just about to call you." Raph looked at the table. His eyes got wide. There were eggs over easy and scrambled, country-style hashbrowns, bacon, sausage, big fluffy biscuits with butter and jelly and Maggie was just lifting the last silver dollar pancake out of the pan. It was a big, country breakfast, full of protein and carbs and fat and maybe a vitamin in there somewhere, crying because it was all alone.

"Wow," Raph muttered. Maggie wasn't the only one who was going to gain weight here.

"We don't have any syrup, but we've got plenty of butter and I found some molasses in the cabinet." Maggie unwrapped her baby slings, carefully lowering the triplets to a playmat on the floor. Raphael sat down, helping himself to a bit of everything. Maggie sat in the other chair and started loading up her plate.

"Any luck with the phone?" Maggie asked.

"No, I'm still not getting a signal. I'll keep trying, but I don't think I'm going to have any luck." Raph sighed. "I hope they have enough sense to just wait for me to come home, but knowing Leo, I don't think they will."

"When are you going back?" Maggie asked, salting down her eggs.

"We can catch our breath here for a week or two; until we get some weight back on you."

"Oh, can we?" Maggie asked sarcastically.

'Crud,' Raph thought. 'Here it comes.'

"Look, my family's in New York. My brothers and I have our differences, but they're still family and I want to get back to them. I want my – our girls to know their uncles and aunts. Plus I know you all will be safe there. That's my main concern." Maggie looked slightly mollified, but still unconvinced.

"When you say 'New York', you mean the state or the city?" she asked suspiciously.

"The-," Raph saw the flicker in Maggie's eyes and recognized a temper that could match his, given the chance. He really didn't want to start fighting in front of his kids on his second day of being a father. And Maggie could warm up to him a little more before he told her he wanted to dump her in a sewer. "The state. Upstate New York. It's a farm near a town called – uh, do you know New England?"

"Not a bit," Maggie admitted.

"Okay. It's called Northampton. And just wait until you meet the guys! You're gonna love my brothers! Oh, and there's two female turtles, too, a pair of sisters from Hawaii. And of course, there's Master Splinter. He's our father and sensei. You're not afraid of rats, are you?" Maggie paused to rub her forehead in the manner of the heavily put-upon everywhere.

"No," she said eventually. "Why?"

"'Cause Master Splinter is one."

"Of course," Maggie said lightly. "Ninja turtles taught by a giant rat. That makes perfect sense. How about you tell me about this stuff a bit at a time, so I can soak it up?"

"Okay," Raph said, chuckling. "Let me tell you about my brothers . . ."

The next week passed without incident. Raphael spent the time getting to know his daughters.

Emerald was, quite unfortunately, Raphael's daughter through and through. Raph could be out taking her for a walk through the woods with Emerald doing a startlingly good impression of a perfect little angel, then a sudden birdcall would startle her and Emmy would go from angel to screaming little hellion in .05 seconds. Once Emmy started to cry, she didn't let up for a good forty-five minutes, whether the situation had been rectified or not. She could be unbelievably sweet and charming when she put her mind to it, and Raphael loved her without question, but sometimes when he looked into her deep brown eyes, he recognized karmic retribution for his own rocky childhood.

Sapphire's temper was a slightly tamer version of Emerald's. She was quick to cry, but could be easily distracted by something new. Her intense fascination with the world around her reminded Raph of Donatello. Sapphie may have had a temper, but she was smart as hell. Raph got the impression that was more Maggie's contribution than anything that lurked dormant in his genes. What truly fascinated him about Sapphire was that he could see her struggling to master her own body. As anyone familiar with babies could tell you, newborns have absolutely no control over their bodies. Grasping something was pure instinct. To wiggle a toe might as well have been an act of God. Raphael could dangle a toy in front of Sapphie and see her struggling, trying to force her hand to grasp it through sheer force of will. She was also more 'talkative' than her sisters, as if she couldn't wait to jump right into spoken language. Raphael often told her the names of things in both English and Japanese, because he could tell she wanted to know.

That left Diamond. If it wasn't for the fact that she had the same bright, jewel-like skin tone of her father and sisters, Raphael would have suspected there was a little slip-up in the lab and Diamond was actually Mikey's. Di had nothing even resembling a temper. It took her five minutes to work herself into a full-blown cry. First she would make a pouting face and then add a slight whimper. The whimper would slowly, over the course of a minute or so, work itself up to a whine while the pout deepened to a look of intense distress. If no one had picked her up by now, she would start to softly cry, stop, look around to see if anyone was coming to pick her up, start to cry again, stop, look, start crying and finally take a deep breath and start to cry in earnest. The second she was picked up by her mother or father she was completely placated. Not that Raph didn't appreciate his mild-mannered child; he was just a bit puzzled by it.

And then there was Maggie. Raphael couldn't quite figure her out. She was a great mother and a wonderful cook. She was funny and could be sweet and appreciative. She could also be as stubborn as a mule and just as quick to fly off the handle as Raphael or Emerald, but she picked her fights carefully. Once Maggie and Raphael had started to butt heads over how long to stay in Louisiana; Maggie had wanted to stay longer, but Raph wanted to get her home. They had begun to argue, voices were raised, and then Maggie unexpectedly gave in. It was almost as if she could tell Raph wasn't going to budge on the issue and just said: 'All right.' And that was the end of it. She wasn't even interested in pleading her case. It was all a bit confusing; Raphael hadn't had much experience with human girls, but from all accounts, they hated to lose fights. Maggie hadn't been cold or sullen afterwards, in fact, she had made him what he asked for for dinner and even suggested he take a nap while she gave the jewels their nightly bath. Raphael had waited for the other shoe to drop for three days before he realized it wasn't going to happen. When Maggie gave in, she gave in. And when she dug in her heels, nothing was going to move her.

For all of her maternal and domestic skills, Raphael got the feeling there were things she wasn't telling him. He didn't press her; when and if Maggie wanted him to know, she'd tell him. His priorities right now were keeping Maggie and the jewels safe, getting some meat back on Maggie's bones, and getting them all home safe. The first two priorities were working out quite well; no one ever came to the house as it hadn't been occupied in ages, and the general store had not only not replaced the locks or called the cops, the owner had left a note thanking him for his custom and pointing out what vegetables were at the peak of ripeness. They had even bought a bottle of post-natal vitamins and left them on the counter. Maggie was filling out nicely. It had only been a week since she had been thin as a rail, but Raph was already starting to have thoughts that weren't strictly related to family relations, though they could result in more children.

"What are you doing, honey?" Raphael had to stop painting for a minute. What he was doing was repainting Maggie's Scout a different color so that it wouldn't be quite so easy to find. He had also fixed up an old trailer to carry the Shell Cycle so that he could ride with Maggie and the Jewels. But that wasn't what caused him to stop. He slowly turned around.

"Did you just call me 'honey'?" Maggie stepped off of the porch carefully. She had the Jewels in slings across her chest and had found an old lavender dress in a drawer in the cabin. Her feet were bare. She grinned at him.

"Yeah, I did. It's a Southern thing. If you don't like it, I could probably call you 'sugar' instead." Maggie offered, grinning. Raphael just stared at her for a minute. There had to be something about the sun down here. Every time Maggie stepped into the sunlight, she glowed like an angel. With the triplets clutched close to the soft swell of her breasts, she looked like some sort of mother goddess. Raphael turned back to the truck, hoping Maggie didn't notice the blush rushing across his cheeks. Maybe Donnie was right; maybe he did have some sort of motherhood fetish.

"You do know that's house paint, right?" Maggie asked.

"I know. It's all we've got. If you like the blue and white so much, I'll get Donnie to fix it when we get home."

"Naw, it don't matter," Maggie drawled, coming up behind him. "What's Daddy doing? He's changing the color of the Scout, yes he is!" Sapphire cooed in response, trying to be proactive. Raphael chuckled, leaning down to give Sapphire a kiss on the cheek.

"My little Sapphie is the smartest little girl, yes she is," he murmured. Raph looked down on his daughters, smiling affectionately. "Give it a few years and you'll give your uncle Donnie a run for his money."

"Don't wish me bigger, Daddy," Maggie said, grinning. "Ten years down the road, we'll wish they stayed this size forever." Raph and Maggie's eyes met. Maybe this is why he found her so beautiful: this warm, open, honest smile that she was giving him now. There was no hint of the expression people usually wore when they dealt with him. There was no 'I know you can be such a pain in the ass, Raph, but circumstances have forced me to talk to you.', no 'I love you because you're family, but I really don't like you very much.', no 'I know you're here to either complain or rant and rave, Raph, so which is it this time?'. Maggie smiled at him like she'd prefer to be around no other person more. Maybe . . . maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she would prefer him to all others. With the bright Southern sun beating down on this lovely woman holding his beautiful, impossible children, it seemed like miracles could happen. They were standing so close. Raphael had one hand on Sapphire and Diamond's sling. He moved it down to Maggie's waist, reaching around with his other hand until they met. She was in his arms. Maggie's smile toned down momentarily, but then came back with a coy overtone. A slight blush colored her pale cheeks, but she looked pleased. Raphael couldn't help bringing up one hand to stroke her silky cheek. God, it was so soft and smooth. He stroked his thumb across her lower lip, leaning down towards her. Maggie's blue eyes drifted close and she tilted her head back expectantly. For a moment, Raphael thought he caught the bass thumping of a helicopter in flight, but then he realized it was the beating of his heart. Raph stopped. Wait, no, he was right the first time. Raphael's head snapped around. There was a helo in flight and it was coming closer. Maggie gasped in panic.

"Get in the truck," Raph ordered.

Maggie never hesitated, piling into the freshly painted vehicle and strapping the Jewels into their car seats. Raphael ran back inside for his sai and Shell Cell, grabbing Maggie's other clothes off of the porch rail where they were hanging to dry. He came back around the house just as Maggie got the truck turned around. Luckily, Raphael had the foresight to load up the Shell Cycle as soon as he had the trailer ready to go. Raphael piled into the truck, throwing the gear and clothes into the back behind the backseat. Emerald, true to form, was warming up an angry cry.

"Hush up now, Emmy," Raph said, looking out the window for the helicopter. "Maggie? You were going to let me kiss you, right?"

"Uh-huh," Maggie said with a grin.

"Damn chopper," Raph growled.

They headed north, threading their way through the back roads up through Louisiana to Mississippi, entering Tennessee around eleven o'clock at night.

"We need to find somewhere to spend the night," Raphael sighed, yawning. Maggie said nothing, just continued to read the road signs. "I guess we could pull over, hide the truck, and just sleep in the back . . ." Raph let the sentence drift. They had managed to avoid coming into contact with the agency, but it was obvious the government was still searching for them. To be so exposed, especially with the Jewels needing to be fed every two hours, was a risk Raph wasn't willing to take. And neither was Maggie.

"No. I know of a place," she said quietly. "It's not far." She proceeded to drive back up, far into the mountains, before taking a hairpin turn off of the road onto a driveway that looked like nothing more than a deer trail. The Scout shuddered and bumped over the uneven path, its headlights eventually illuminating a rusty iron gate. Despite the obvious age of the gate, a shiny new chain and padlock secured the gate to an enormous boulder, a special slot for the chain carved into the stone. Maggie put the Scout into park.

"Do you have a key?" Raph asked.

"No."

"Then I'll get it," he said, jumping out. The hotheaded turtle whipped out his sai, studied the gate, then turned on sai until the handle was facing forward and struck the old gate, breaking off one of the crossbars. He then slipped the chain off easily and got back in the truck. Maggie was glowering at the broken gate. Her irritation did not go unnoticed.

"Well, how were you going to get through it?" Raph demanded.

"I was just going to take it off of the hinges," Maggie said, looking at the opposite end of the gate. For all of the lock and chain, the gate would have simply lifted off of the hinges in one move. "How am I gonna explain this? We'll be lucky if my mother doesn't shoot you on sight, and here you go breaking her gate!"

"Your mother lives here?" Raph asked in disbelief, staring out into the darkness.

"No, she lives a couple miles further up the track. Just don't go breaking the other gates!" Maggie growled, throwing the truck into gear. Raphael thought about snapping back at her, but thought better of it. What kind of woman lived miles and miles back in the hill country with multiple gates to keep people out? What kind of woman got raised in a place like that?

Three more gates and what seemed like five miles of twisting, winding trail finally ended with a small ramshackle house. There was a single light burning in one window. Maggie pulled up next to another old, battered truck and cut the engine. She remained seated for a moment, twisting her hands around the steering wheel. She looked nervous.

"Maggie?" Raph asked. She looked over at him.

"I – I haven't seen my mama since I was sixteen," she admitted.

"How old are you now?" Raph asked.

"I'm nineteen. We didn't exactly part on the best of terms. And now I show up with you – and three babies . . ."

"Maggie, sweetheart, she's your mother. She's gonna be happy to see you no matter what," Raph said gruffly, laying a hand on her shoulder. Maggie gave him an amused look.

"Did you just call me 'sweetheart'?" she asked, pretending to be mad.

"Hey, it's a New York thing. I could call you 'toots' or 'doll' if you wanted," he teased. Maggie grinned, then leaned over and gave him a tight hug.

"Just stay behind me until we get inside, okay?" she murmured. Raph frowned. Did Maggie really think her mother was going to shoot him on sight? But then, given Grandpa Malone's first reaction . . . . not to mention Maggie's, maybe he'd better not take the chance.

"Okay." They got the triplets out of their car seats. Raph held Emerald and Sapphire, while Maggie carried Diamond. The young mother looked back at Raphael nervously, then reached back and moved him behind her. She did this none too soon. A figure appeared in the doorway. It was obviously a woman, with the same curvy figure as Maggie, but a bit plumper. This was overshadowed by the fact that she carried a rifle in one hand.

"Mama!" Maggie cried, holding up her hand. "It's me! Mama, don't shoot!" There was a long, pregnant pause.

"Maggie?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me." Mrs. Malone lowered the shotgun and reached over for the porch light. Maggie, Raphael, and the Jewels blinked at the sudden brightness. Maggie's mother looked like a forty year old version of her daughter. Her blond hair had been cropped short and she had more than her fair share of crow's feet and wrinkles, but the resemblance was unmistakable. Mrs. Malone's blue eyes widened at the sight of her daughter's companion. The shotgun came up again sharply, but Maggie quickly threw herself in front of Raphael.

"No, no, no, no! It's okay, Mama! Raphael's he's my – he's." Emerald chose to alleviate her mother's stammering by starting to cry.

"Is that a baby?" Mrs. Malone asked in disbelief.

"It's three babies," Maggie admitted, pulling the blanket away from Diamond's face. The baby turtle blinked up innocently at her grandmother. The shotgun hung limply from Mrs. Malone's hand. "Maybe we'd better go inside and have some sweet tea," Maggie suggested. "I got kind of a long story to tell you."

Later that night, Raphael rocked Sapphire and Emerald gently, murmuring a soft lullaby under his breath. They still sat in the kitchen, awaiting Mrs. Malone's reaction to the whole story. There was something not quite right about the situation. Even if Raphael had stayed away long enough to conceive the Jewels the natural way and had then come home, he knew without a doubt that Master Splinter would be overjoyed to see him. Raph might get his shell handed to him at a later date, but the first reunion with his father would be full of tears of joy and tight hugs.

Maggie and her mother sat on opposite sides of the table staring at each other. Maggie looked like she expected her mother to lunge across the table and rip her throat out at any given second. Mrs. Malone looked as though she were giving the idea serious consideration.

"We're just passing through and needed a place to sleep for the night. We'll leave in the morning," Maggie was saying. "We didn't want to park by the side of the road with the babies."

"Right. The babies," Mrs. Malone echoed, her eyes falling on Diamond, who was nestled snugly up against her mother's breast. Despite his best efforts to be civil, Raphael felt a glower start to pass over his face. Mrs. Malone looked at her granddaughters like they were something she scraped off the bottom of her shoe.

"It's real late, Mama and you know how tired you get looking after newborns. Can we just go to bed?" Maggie asked, sensing the tension rising in the room.

"Sure," Mrs. Malone grunted. "I guess I can pull out the sofa for him . . ."

"Raphael and I share a bed." Maggie said quickly. If Raph had been drinking his tea, he would have exhaled it.

"Not in this house!" Mrs. Malone said sharply.

"Sorry, Mama, but you know, my Raph has been such a comfort to me, I can't sleep without him! In fact, we usually all pile into the same bed together; the Jewels, Raph and myself! One big happy! Come on, honey, let's get ready for bed!" Maggie grabbed Raph by the arm and dragged him deeper into the house. She dragged him into a bedroom that obviously hadn't seen much use recently, closed the door behind them, then dragged a chair over from the corner and jammed it under the doorknob.

"Uh, Maggie? What the hell?" Raph asked. "I mean, I can understand you trying to protect me at first, but you're acting like your mother is going to come murder us in our sleep. And when have we ever shared a bed? Not that I'm complaining, exactly."

"Getting murdered in our sleep is exactly what I'm afraid of," Maggie admitted.

"Don't be ridiculous! I can handle myself; I'm a ninja! But she's not going to try to kill three helpless infants or her own child!"

"She's done it before." Silence reigned for a full minute before Raphael found his voice.

"Say what?" Maggie sighed and started to turn back the covers on the bed.

"I used to have an older brother. When he was ten and I was eight, Justin suddenly started getting sick. Nobody knew what was causing it, and Mama wouldn't take him to the doctor. She said too many trips to the doctor weaken your immune system. Justin was sick for a long time; after eight months he couldn't even get out of bed. Mama finally took him to the hospital up in Cookesville, but they didn't know what was causing it either, because both Justin and I ate the same food, drank the same water and slept in the same room and I was fine." Maggie looked around the small room as if reliving bad memories, then hugged Diamond to her chest. "Three days after his eleventh birthday, my big brother died. I never knew what happened to him until I was in the Agency's lab. The scientists there said I had enough arsenic in my system to kill a family of four. They said it was if I had eaten it every day for the past six years. But I was immune to it. See, in our family, there's a gene that makes you drug resistant, have incredible bone density, have super-strong tendons and just . . just be extra-tough. But only the women have it. That's why," Maggie stopped, her lower lip quivering. "That's why my brother died."

"Maggie . . . . God, why did you bring us here?" Raph demanded.

"I thought she'd be happier to see me . . . to see my babies. She's my Mama."

"She tried to kill you! She murdered your brother!" Raph stopped when he saw the tears welling up in Maggie's eyes. "Oh geez, don't cry. Look, we'll get to sleep and leave first thing in the morning, okay?"

"Okay," Maggie whispered. She laid Diamond down on the bed and began to undress for bed. Raph looked away until he heard her climb under the covers. Then Raph laid Sapphire and Emerald down next to their sister and climbed into bed. He didn't remove his gear or weapons. Maybe Mrs. Malone was a poisoning murderer, but he wasn't going to take the chance of her graduating to violent methods tonight.

Maggie was sucking on one of Raphael's fingers. He had brought her back home safe and now she was showing her appreciation for the man in her life. Mischief sparkling in her blue eyes, Maggie licked up and down the length of Raph's thick finger, giving him a taste of things to come. Raph grinned triumphantly. He could feel the warmth of her mouth on him, feel her tongue questing along his skin, feel the saliva dripping down his hand . . . . uh, ewww. Never losing the lusty look in her eyes, Maggie sneezed on his hand, and then bit down surprisingly hard.

Raphael opened his eyes. He was lying on his side in Maggie's mother's house. Maggie was sitting beside him, two pillows in her lap. Propped up on the pillows were Emerald and Diamond, both sucking like bilge pumps. Sapphire was curled up under her father's hand, gumming away at one of his fingers happily. Raph groaned.

"Good morning," Maggie said with a knowing grin. "Nice dream?" Raphael hoped he wasn't blushing.

"I don't think you're going to get much out of that finger, Sapphie," he told his daughter. "You're just going to have to wait until your sisters are done." Your lucky, lucky sisters, he added mentally. He was lucky, too, to have a mate who could make sure his babies were so . . . well fed. Raph could have sworn he blushed. Then a thought occurred to him.

"Wait a minute. If you're system's loaded with arsenic doesn't that mean it's in your milk, too!"

"That was three years ago, Raphael. A lot of it has been flushed out by now." Maggie said. "I think the Jewels can handle the little bit that's left."

"And what makes you think that!" Raph demanded.

"Because they're Malone girls," Maggie stated, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Ri-ight, the extra tough thing. How extra tough are Malone girls?"

"Well, when I was captured by that lab, I got run over by a semi. I fractured my arms where they hit the grill and my head hit the pavement hard enough to crack it. I was sore as hell for a week, but there wasn't any permanent damage. And when I was ten, my eight hundred pound pony threw me off and ran over my leg at a full gallop. It hurt like hell, but didn't do no harm."

"Yeowch," Raph commented. "It could be just you."

"No, my Aunt Katy fell off of a waterfall trying to save a friend's daughter and landed forty feet later on solid rock. She walked like an old woman for two weeks, but she was fine. And then my Great Aunt Cissy fell down her concrete steps when she was eighty and snapped her neck in two. A perfect hangman's break, like the one Christopher Reeve had. She got back up and lay in bed for two days because she 'didn't feel good' before her daughter in law finally hauled her to a hospital. The doctors had no idea how she survived. We told her to spray paint her halo gold and maybe they'd let her into heaven."

"Yikes. So you're extra resilient. How are the Malone girls at fighting?"

"Well, back in the Civil War, my eight times great aunt jumped into a squad of four Union soldiers armed only with a hatchet and killed them all. And she was only thirteen at the time."

"Not bad. I guess I'll let you birth my race," Raph said. Maggie giggled, then looked down at the two girls at her breast.

"It looks like Emerald is done; will you trade her for Sapphire for me?" There was no hiding the blush that rushed across Raph's face this time. Maggie wanted him to reach right in there and. . Well, she just needed help with the Jewels, that was all. Raphael looked nervously from Sapphie to Emmy, wondering how he should go about this. Honestly, he usually made himself scarce when Maggie was feeding the girls; she never asked him to leave, but he thought it was the proper thing to do. And now—

"Don't tell me you're still shy about me breastfeeding," Maggie said. "That's so sweet." If anything, Raph turned even redder.

"It's not—I just thought—see—You mean you don't mind me watching?" Raphael reached for Emerald as he spoke, laying her in his lap and putting Sapphire back in her place.

"Of course not." And Maggie gave him another of those open, honest smiles that seemed to light up the room.

"Why not? I mean; you've been thrown together with a giant turtle after being impregnated and chased around the country by the government. I'd think you'd need a little time to adjust."

"That's true," Maggie said, considering. "It sucked being locked up in that lab for two years. And there had to be a better way of escaping than going through the windshield of that bus and off that bridge . . . . and then climbing up that cliff."

"Windshield of a bus?" Raph echoed.

"And when I found out I was pregnant, I was so scared. I was even more scared when I went into labor. And when the Jewels were born, I was fcking terrified. But they were my babies . . . and they needed me. I was their mother; who else was going to take care of them? I've never regretted keeping them. And when you showed up . . ." Maggie paused, looking thoughtful as she arranged Sapphire. "I don't think I could have picked out a better man if I tried." For a moment, the only sounds that broke the silence were the small, happy noises of three contented infants.

"You called me a man." Raphael said softly.

"What else would I call you?" Maggie asked. For a second, she thought she saw a hint of moisture in Raphael's dark eyes. Then he leaned towards her. Maggie closed her eyes, lips pursed expectantly. The sounds of dribbling liquid made her open her eyes. Raphael was glaring down Emerald. Emmy, for her part, was looking particularly pleased with herself. Her now-sodden diaper had overflowed onto her father's legs and was dripping down onto the sheets.

"You. Little. Rat." Raph growled. Maggie laughed.

"The diaper bag's in the truck."

Despite being coated in baby pee, Raphael was grinning widely when he left the room. Maggie had called him a man. It was strange; while Mikey and Makai had bonded in captivity, Leo and Pele's relationship progressed in jerky, easily observed steps. There would be a period of obvious tension between them, then there would be a big, climactic occurrence, after which they would be closer. Raph and Maggie weren't like that. Raph couldn't put his finger on any time that they had distinctly become closer; it just seemed to happen so effortlessly. It was like one smooth slide into intimacy. Then Raphael stepped into the kitchen and his smile faded.

Mrs. Malone was sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee.

"Sleep well?" She asked casually. Raphael glared at her for a minute. Despite her blatant hostility last night, she appeared calm and collected. In fact, she was giving him a cold smile that was obviously meant to be friendly. Something definitely wasn't right.

"I slept just fine." Raph returned.

"Your . . . offspring didn't wake you up?" There was just enough hesitation before 'offspring' to let him know Mrs. Malone didn't count the Jewels as 'children'.

"We all slept in the same bed. Maggie fed them when they were hungry, so they didn't cry."

"Hmm. That's pretty amazing. Maggie's sure to be a terrible mother. She always was lazy; couldn't be bothered to do a decent lick of work. She can't cook; she's a slob, and a terrible whiner. Still, I suppose she's the best you could do." Mrs. Malone declared. Raphael's fists clenched. For a moment, he considered testing the true toughness of the Malone women with a good, old-fashioned beating, but he held himself in check.

"That's not true. None of it." Raphael growled.

"Well, I couldn't expect her to be out here making anything for you to eat, so I made lunch for you to take on your trip. Here." Mrs. Malone picked up a large brown paper bag from the kitchen counter and handed it to Raphael.

"Oh, hey, thanks," Raph said, then turned and dropped the bag into the garbage. Mrs. Malone glared at him.

"You don't know Maggie. You're going to regret taking up with her." The older woman reached past Raphael to rescue her lunch from the garbage can. She gasped when a three-fingered hand clamped down on her wrist.

"Maybe I don't know Maggie. But there's something I do know." Raph jerked Mrs. Malone closer to him, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "There's a special place in hell reserved for mothers who kill their children. And I can't wait to see you there." The young turtle released his adversary, taking a few steps back before turning and heading out the door.

Mrs. Malone staggered backwards a few steps before sitting down hard on a kitchen chair. She had her suspicions before, but now she knew for sure. She knew what those creatures were.

They were demons.

The adult male, the one Maggie called Raphael, practically radiated evil. He had just admitted to personally knowing his way around Hell . . . not to mention gleefully awaiting her arrival. He had also known about Justin and no one knew about that. Maggie certainly didn't, so she couldn't have told her incubus about it. Raphael – obviously not his true name – had looked straight into Mrs. Malone's heart and seen the truth. And those babies . . . little hell spawn that were slowing sucking out her daughter's soul. How had Maggie taken up with Raphael? Had he offered to save her life after that car accident in exchange for bearing his evil seed? Maggie had obviously been weak enough to take him up on the offer. Mrs. Malone started as Raphael came back in the kitchen, diaper bag in hand. He gave her a dark glare as he walked through, then made his way back to Maggie's room. Mrs. Malone swallowed. She was going to have to take matters into her own hands. She was going to have to kill them all.

Raphael changed all of the Jewels, packed up the diaper bag and took it back out to the Scout. Maggie was going through her old dresser drawers, picking out some clothing to take with her. By the time Raphael returned, she had a small pile stacked neatly by the bed. Raph bent over to pick it up. Maggie, seeing that he was back in the room, took the opportunity to head to the bathroom, thinking the Jewels' father would be there to watch them. Raphael had his back turned when Maggie left the room. Without looking around to see if she was still there, he took the clothes out to the Scout, leaving the Jewels alone on the bed.

Seconds later, Maggie's mother poked her head in the room, glaring at the three babies on the bed.

"All right; no sense in doing the hardest one first." She murmured to herself, leaning over her granddaughters. Diamond smiled, thinking she was about to be picked up and cuddled.

"Let's see how you little demons like this," Mrs. Malone growled, shaking a small vial over the triplets. The three jumped and jerked in alarm as cold-water droplets hit their cheeks and plastrons. Emerald got that 'I'm about to scream' look on her face. Mrs. Malone watched them expectantly, then frowned.

"Looks like holy water doesn't do the trick. How about this?" The woman pulled a necklace with a crucifix charm from her pocket and laid it against Sapphire's cheek. Sapphie grunted with effort and latched onto the necklace chain. A look of triumph spread across her face. Mrs. Malone made a disgusted noise.

"I'm going about this all wrong, aren't I?" She murmured to herself. Without so much as a second's hesitation, the heartless woman took the pillow from the head of the bed and placed it over her granddaughters' faces. The Jewels' legs began to jerk spasmodically as their air was cut off. The only one saved from this slow torture was Diamond, who had turned her head sideways just before the pillow had come down. For a moment, all the baby girl could do was stare as Emerald's arms started to flail in desperation. Then Diamond, quiet little Diamond who hated to cry and only wanted to be cuddled, opened her mouth and screamed.

On the other side of the house, Maggie's head jerked up sharply.

"That sounds like Diamond," she muttered to herself. Scarcely were the words out of her mouth before the young mother was out of the bathroom and half way across the house. Maggie saw the door to her old room closed and dropped her shoulder, ramming into the old wood and forcing the lock open. It seemed like time stood still as she took in her mother, the pillow, and her daughters' tiny legs frantically kicking as they fought to breathe. Maggie's face contorted into a look of pure rage.

"Get Away from MY BABIES!" she screamed. Later, Maggie wouldn't even remember making a fist or drawing back for a punch; only of her fist smashing into her mothers' face as the older woman turned towards her. Mrs. Malone fell back from the blow. Maggie didn't even bother to look where she had fallen, only reached the bed, tore the pillow from the Jewels' faces and flung it away. Diamond was still screaming in distress. Sapphire coughed and choked raggedly before starting up with her own cry. Emerald, who had been lying in the middle and had taken most of the weight of the pillow, was lying limp.

"Oh no . . . . Emmy, breathe baby!" Maggie pleaded. Then a particular sound reached her ears. It was the sound of a very large hunting knife being drawn from its sheath.

At first, Raphael thought nothing of hearing one of the Jewels start to cry. They were babies; they cried all the time. Then his father ears kicked in and he realized it was Diamond crying; no, it was Diamond screaming bloody murder. Then he heard a crash and Maggie screaming at her mother. Raphael charged back into the house, intent on saving his daughters. Maggie and her mother were in Maggie's old room. The younger woman was slamming her mother's hand against the wall, trying to get her to drop a hunting knife with a blade nearly ten inches long.

"Maggie, I'm coming!" Raphael called.

"Forget me! Get the Jewels out of here!" Maggie yelled, kneeing her mother in the stomach. Raph hesitated for a second, but she seemed to have the situation under control, so he ran to the bed, scooped up the triplets and ran back out to the Scout. He strapped Diamond and Sapphire into their car seats and was about to do the same with Emerald when he realized his most outspoken daughter was as limp as a gutted fish.

"Oh God . . . . Emmy! Emerald!" Raphael shook the baby lightly. Was she moving, or was that just her limbs flailing around? "Oh God, Emmy, please breathe!" Raph tried blowing a puff of air into her mouth, then tried rubbing her stomach and patting her back. Tears sprang from the young turtle's eyes.

"Oh God, Emmy, don't go! Come back! Come back to Daddy! I'm sorry I called you a little rat! I wasn't really mad! Emerald . . . . please breathe, baby . . . please." Raphael pleaded, cradling Emerald to his chest. An errant tear slipped down his cheek, dripped from his chin and splashed onto Emerald's nose.

Emmy sneezed.

Raphael jumped. Emerald sucked in a deep breath, coughed, then sucked in another breath. Then she opened her mouth and proceeded to wail like a fire alarm. Raphael laughed out loud, bouncing her up and down playfully.

"That's it, Emmy! Scream; be pissed!"

Maggie staggered backwards from a resounding punch. She shook her head to clear it, only to be borne to the ground by a flying tackle from her mother.

"You bitch! You tried to kill my babies, you bitter old goat!" Maggie growled.

"Is that any way to talk to your mother!" Mrs. Malone demanded. Maggie grabbed hold of a nearby footstool and smashed it over her mother's head. The impact may have laid an ordinary human low, but Mrs. Malone was only stunned for a moment.

"You tried to kill me! Even worse, you tried to kill my babies! You're nobody's mother, you disgusting old woman!" Maggie growled. Mrs. Malone staggered upright, then stopped. Maggie had the hunting knife and looked ready to plunge it into her mother's heart.

"I suppose you're going to kill me now, Marjorie?" The older woman asked coldly. Maggie hesitated. "I suppose you've got the right to kill me; nobody would blame you if you did. But I think you should at least thank me before I die," Mrs. Malone said, backing away. Maggie followed her, anger still burning in her blue eyes.

"Thank you! For what! For a childhood full of neglect and abuse! For slowly killing my brother right before my eyes! For trying to kill me and my daughters!"

"You should thank me for the gravel in your guts and the spit in your eye. It's the way I raised you that made you strong."

"You aren't getting shit from me," Maggie growled, pacing closer.

"If you kill me, you'll be no better than me!" Mrs. Malone cried.

"I can live with that." Maggie announced. Without warning, Mrs. Malone dived towards a nearby closet. Maggie jumped after her. The young woman's eyes went wide as her mother pulled a rifle from the closet, pointed it right at her stomach and pulled the trigger.

Raphael jumped as a gunshot rang through the small valley. Depositing the still-crying Emerald in her car seat, he ran into the small house.

"Maggie! Maggie!" In the hallway between bedrooms, Raph stopped. The two Malone women were intertwined on the floor, Maggie lying on top of her mother. A smoking rifle was still clutched in Mrs. Malone's hands. Maggie had apparently grabbed the barrel and forced it to one side before it discharged. Her hand was red and swollen where she had been burned from the controlled explosion. But it was Maggie's other hand that held Raph's attention, for it clutched the lethal hunting knife. And Maggie had plunged it into her mother's throat. Malone women may have been extra-tough and hard to kill, but Raphael doubted anyone short of a superhuman could withstand the loss of that much blood. It seemed his doubts were well founded.

After a few minutes, Maggie stood up gingerly. The bloodlust had slowly faded from her eyes, to be replaced by a look of numb horror. The young woman stared down at the blood coating the front of her shirt and jeans with wide, frightened eyes. Raphael gingerly picked his way around Mrs. Malone's body and gently pulled Maggie into the next room.

"Maggie! Sweetheart? Are you okay?" It took a minute or two for Maggie' blue eyes to focus on Raph's face.

"Emerald!" She whispered.

"Emmy's fine; she's screaming up a storm," Raph told her.

"Oh thank god . . ." Maggie murmured. Then her face started to twist with grief. "I – I just killed my Mama."

"Maggie, Maggie, don't cry," Raph whispered gruffly. "You were just protecting our children; no one would blame you." Despite his attempts at comfort, Maggie buried her face in her hands and started to sob uncontrollably. Raphael threw his arms around her and squeezed her tightly.

"If you hadn't killed her, I would have," he growled. "She had to die." Maggie's sobbing increased, but she clung to Raphael tightly.

"I know," she whispered.

"Come on. We need to get out of here, Raph said.

Epilogue

They made New York City by midnight. Instead of the furious fight Raphael expected when he admitted he lived in the city, Maggie just leaned against the passengers' side window dejectedly. She had already been put through too much of an emotional wringer to care.

The great revelation of his paternity to his brothers and Master Splinter was also a let down. They weren't there. Instead, Raphael found a note from Leo calling him ten different kinds of an idiot and telling him to stay home if he came home before they did. They were all out looking for him. Instead, he called Casey, who wasn't answering and left a message to come down to the Lair whenever he remembered to, then called April, who was probably asleep and left a message asking for any baby clothes she could spare from the shop. While Raphael did this, Maggie gave the Jewels their bath then took a shower herself. Raphael made up a cot for the triplets from a spare futon, then wrapped them up to keep warm and sat watching over them as they drifted off to sleep.

Maggie came in a few minutes later in a set of purple pajamas.

"How'ya doing, Maggie?" Raphael asked.

"Better. How're the Jewels?"

"They don't seem any the worse for wear," Raph said with a smile. "Emmy's a little clingy, though." Emerald had one hand out of her blanket cocoon and was clutching Sapphire tightly. Sapphie looked thoroughly confused by it all. Raphael carefully arranged the blankets over Emerald's bare arm so it wouldn't get cold, pausing to tenderly stroke his daughters' hands and faces. The Jewels cooed and moved gently in their sleep, used to their father's affectionate touch.

When Raphael sat back, Maggie was giving him that open smile again.

"You're such a good father," she said. Raph snorted softly, looking back to the Jewels.

"I try my damnest. We'll see how long I can keep it up." He sighed, looking down at the tiny, perfect creatures Maggie had given him. "I just wish I had been there when they were born." Maggie was silent for a moment, no doubt remembering the terror of giving birth to inhuman triplets in an abandoned barn. Then, to Raphael's surprise, she seated herself in his lap and laid her head against his.

"Don't worry. You'll be there for the next one."

"How do you do that!" Raphael demanded.

"Do what?" Maggie asked, looking confused.

"You just throw out one little sentence and make me happier than I've ever been in my life! How do you know exactly what to say!" Raphael spluttered. Maggie grinned.

"Aw, just shut up, Raphael," she said, leaning in to kiss him.

The End.