Raphael's grip on the phone just short of pulverizing as it rang—once, twice... and by then, with his usual negativity, he had already begun to tell himself he was too late, he'd missed her. But just after the third ring, she answered with a rushed, "Raph, hi!"

She sounded a slightly breathless, or maybe flustered, which threw him off a little. "Um. Hey," Raphael greeted, his heartbeat quickening. "Sorry. Um. Is this a bad time?"

"No, no!" she laughed. "I was just browsing on my phone, hoping you would call back. But then when it buzzed it startled me and I sort of... dropped it."

His heart stuttered a little, hearing that she had been hoping he'd call back. "Oh. Yeah, uh, sorry. I was listening to music. Didn't hear the phone." Jeezus he sounded like a moron. Maybe talking on the phone wasn't the best idea, if he could barely string a sentence together.

"Ah. Yeah, that would do it. I don't suppose you were listening to light classical."

"Not quite."

"Smooth jazz?"

"Nope."

"Wait, wait, I got it—Justin Bieber."

"Damn. Guess third time is a charm." The quip slipped out so easily he even managed a slight smile in spite of his nerves.

She laughed. "I knew it. Closet Belieber."

"What gave it away?"

"Your haircut, of course. Classic Justin."

Raphael laughed out loud at that, and he settled back slightly on his beanbag, his muscle tension easing.

"Plus it's common knowledge that Bieber is best appreciated at top volume."

"Yeah, that's… pretty much exactly it," he said. "Can't get anything past you, O'Neil."

"That's Sherlock O'Neil to you."

He couldn't see her, but he could still picture her face so vividly right now, that smug, triumphant smile, the sparkle in her eyes, the flush on her cheeks… It made his chest ache anew, and he didn't trust his voice enough in that moment to even risk a response.

Fortunately she didn't seem to expect one, because she said, "Anyway, how are you? When your brothers showed up tonight, I just assumed you would be with them."

His stomach lurched a little at that unexpected bit of information. "Oh," he said slowly. "They were there, huh?"

"Not were. Are. I'm sorry, I thought you knew."

"No, I… I mean, I knew they went out, or whatever, but I didn't know what their plans were." When he thought about it, he wasn't surprised though. And if he was just the tiniest bit jealous, all he had to do was think of how awkward he would feel being around his brothers and April to talk himself out of that.

"I don't think they actually planned on coming here," she said, sounding almost apologetic. "It seemed more spontaneous. Donny texted me saying they were in the area."

"It doesn't matter. I'm actually sort of... grounded at the moment anyway."

"You are? They didn't mention that. Was it something to do with the other night? You know, when you came over?"

"Yup."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Wasn't your fault," he grunted.

"I know. It's just, I know the only reason you went out in the first place is because you were worried."

"Yeah. Well. Not the first time I've done something stupid. Won't be the last."

"Don't," she said softly. "Don't do that."

The tone of her voice caught him a little off guard. It was gentle but firm, and almost a little… sad. "Do what?"

"Don't run yourself down like that. Preferably not to anyone, but especially not to me. Everyone makes mistakes."

For a moment he was struck mute with surprise—no one had ever contradicted him for saying something like that. If anything, he was told he didn't admit fault enough, which was probably true. "I, I was just—"

"I know. I know what you were doing. But you don't have to do that with me. Okay?"

Raphael's insides clenched up like he'd just been kicked in the plastron, and he could hardly breathe at first, much less reply. But April didn't try to fill the void with more talking, she just let her words stand, and after a few seconds Raphael managed some intelligible words, even quiet and overly gruff as they came out.

"Sure. Um. Okay."

"Good."

Then he cleared his throat, and hastily changed the subject, "So. Anyway. What did you do tonight?"

"Mario Kart," she answered easily. "Everyone else is still playing, actually."

That surprised him a little. He had assumed April wasn't hanging out with them right now because they were doing something she wasn't interested in, but she had always seemed to enjoy Mario Kart. "Oh. So how come you're not?"

"I did, for a little while. But I didn't want to stay up too late. Work tomorrow."

"Right. Well I can let you go, if you wanna go to bed…"

"No, no! I mean, I'm all ready for bed and everything—I'm actually IN bed. But I'm not that tired yet. Besides, I want to hear what you've been up to."

He felt a familiar pang, like an arrow through the heart, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Did it mean anything? That she had left the group to go to bed early, and yet she wanted to stay up to talk to him? Probably not. But he hated himself for the surge of triumph he felt, small though it was.

"And what's this I hear about Leo hurting your neck?" she continued. "I don't recall you mentioning that part of it, but he seemed kind of flustered when Mikey brought it up."

"I'll bet he was, Mikey's a pain in the ass," Raph quipped.

April laughed a little. "Yeah, he knows how to push everyone's buttons for sure."

"Well, Leo's reaction was prob'ly just his overblown conscience, cuz there ain't much to tell. He got me good while we were sparring, but I would a' done the same to him if I had the chance. It's fine now."

"Still, though, between this and the cut on your arm, I might have to have a talk with him. Tell him he needs to be more careful."

"You're gonna lecture Leo about being more careful?" Raph paused, then said, "Can I watch?"

He was rewarded with another laugh from her. "I might let you. But I have to warn you, it won't be pretty."

"Just don't make him cry this time, okay? Even Leo don't deserve that."

"Welllll, no promises. I tend to forget how intimidating I can be."

This time Raphael laughed.

"I can't help it, you know? I was born that way,"she continued. "I ooze intimidation."

"April Don't-Fuck-With-Me O'Neil."

"Ah, you've heard my street name."

"Spoken only in whispers."

She laughed again, then paused a moment before saying, "Okaaaay, so maybe I won't lecture him. But seriously. Is everything okay between you two?"

"I guess, more or less," he said easily. "He was… actually not as big of a dick as I expected about the whole sneaking out thing."

"What exactly happened that night, anyway? You never really explained it."

Raph sighed. "It was just… guess that was my guilty conscience reacting."

"You have a conscience?"

"A very small one."

"That's what she said!" April retorted quickly.

Raphael rolled his eyes, but he loved it. Loved her wit, her cheek, her laugh… "Conscience! A small conscience."

"Why, you're practically a real boy."

"Wow. You're on fire tonight. That it now? Can I go on with my story?"

"I'm soooorrrrry!" April laughed. "We haven't talked in a while, I guess. It's all coming out at once. But okay, I'm done. Your tiny conscience. Go."

"Okay," he said with a huff, not missing the slight emphasis she put on 'tiny conscience.' "Well basically, Master Splinter was ridin' Leo hard all day, and I thought it was sort of a punishment, for staying up too late. To teach him the consequences, or whatever. But the reason he was up late... was me."

"You guys were up late hanging out or something?"

"Not… exactly. That's sorta when my neck got fucked up."

"You were sparring? In the middle of the night?"

"Bingo."

"Just sparring?" she asked in a suspicious tone.

"Why does everyone keep asking that?!" he flashed, irked that her first reaction was the same as Donatello's.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just… I mean, you guys do tend to… clash, sometimes."

"Yeah… well. Wasn't like that this time," he grumbled, but he was already feeling ashamed of his heated reaction.

"Okay, okay. Sorry," she repeated.

He pulled in a breath, calming himself, and went on. "Anyway, by the end of the day he looked done in, and that's sayin' a lot for Leo. Seriously. When the rest of us are ready to collapse at the end of an intense session, he looks like he could do it all again. Maybe he's just good at hiding it, but even if that's true, the other day he actually did look beat. Which sorta… made me uneasy, I guess. And there was still a rooftop workout planned. I just figured, if I hadn't kept him up in the first place, Master Splinter wouldn't a' been so hard on him. It made it worse that I couldn't even be there for the rooftop workout. Ya know, cuz of my neck. I tried to get him to postpone, and he said he couldn't, so I was just, um…"

"Worried?"

"Well…"

"It's okay, Raphael. It's not a bad thing."

He didn't have a response for that, so he just went on. "As it turned out I was a little off-base about the whole scenario anyway," he said more quietly. "And you reminded me Mike an' Don were watching his back. So basically, I was just being a dumbass."

"A protective dumbass. I'm sure Leo understood that part of it."

Raph was quiet for a moment, wondering how she could know that when he himself had been completely taken by surprise. Then he said, "Sometimes I get the feeling you know my brother better than I do."

She laughed. "I doubt that. But if it sometimes seems that way, it's only because I have the benefit of seeing you guys from the outside, so to speak. When you're interacting directly with someone, your own emotions are being triggered, which can make it harder to perceive their motivations. But when a third party views it, there's no emotion there to get in the way. I mean, I'm not saying it's always right. It's just… more objective."

He was quiet a moment, contemplating that, and he wondered uneasily what she saw in him. "Well, you're right," he said slowly. "When we talked the next day, it… wasn't as bad as I thought. I mean, of course I got the 'I'm Disappointed in You' Frown, and the Stern Lecture, and I got banned from going topside for the weekend, but…"

"But?" she prompted.

"He said he understood why I did it. And he… owned part of the blame." Raph left out the part where he had apologized. No need to advertise that.

"Wow. That's big."

"I guess."

"Raphael… come on. I know you better than that."

"What?"

"I guess? Admit it, you were thrilled."

"I'm never 'thrilled'. Well. 'Cept for when Mikey gets what's coming to him."

She snorted. "Fine, but you were pleased."

"Surprised, more like."

"Okay, have it your way then. But I know Leo, and he wouldn't have said something like that lightly."

"No. He wouldn't," Raph admitted.

"Well I'm glad things turned out okay. I admit, you had me a bit worried myself."

"Yeah. Well I, uhhh… appreciate, you know, what you did."

"Me? What did I do?"

"Well for starters, you put up with me yelling and tromping sludge all over your kitchen."

"At least you cleaned it up," she offered.

"Yeah." He took a deep breath then, because he knew he could leave it at that, leave the rest unsaid, and under any other circumstances, he probably would have. Be he was acutely aware of the silent but ever-ticking clock in the background. His time with her was running out, sand slipping down the hourglass. He had thanked her, in his way, but not for the part that really meant something to him, and goddammit, he owed it to her to express that. Even if it made him uncomfortable.

Deep breath, and here we go. "But it wasn't just that," he said slowly. "I know when you said that, um, when you offered to call Leo? I know you meant it. That you'd do it, if I asked you to. And I…"

"It was no big deal, Raph," she protested.

"It was a big deal. To me," he said earnestly. Then he took a slow breath, hoping to convey as much with his tone as with the words themselves. "So… thank you."

She was quiet then, and when she spoke again it was whisper-soft and equally serious. "Anytime." April cleared her throat lightly and continued, "Well I'm glad everything turned out okay, more or less. And I'm sorry you couldn't be here tonight, but I'm happy we at least have a chance to talk."

"Yeah… me too."

It was funny. Even during their recent hangout sessions, she and Raph had seldom had long conversations. He wasn't exactly a talker by nature, and that was okay with her. Laughing and joking interspersed with occasional short discussions was the norm. But on the phone with him now, the conversation flowed as easily as if this was a common thing for them, and she didn't think it was only on her end. Raphael was participating as much in the conversation as she was, completely engaged and speaking freely rather than in his usual clipped, sarcastic way. In spite of his easy manner, though, it almost seemed to her there was an undercurrent of… something. He seemed a little down at times, but the impression wasn't due to anything he said, or the way he was treating her, really. She wasn't even completely sure she wasn't imagining it, so she didn't ask. Besides, if he was feeling down, maybe talking to her was helping to take his mind off of whatever was bothering him.

April readjusted her pillows behind her, getting cozy but not in the least bit sleepy. If anything, she was more wide away than when she first got into bed. She felt… content, laying in her bed and talking to him. No, more than content, warmed, like she was cuddled under an electric blanket. Only the sensation was coming from inside of her, as if something in her was being restored, revitalized. This was Raphael as she only rarely had the privilege of seeing him, so calm and serious, though not without his usual sarcastic wit and clever banter. Actually, the last time he had been like this in her presence was that night he had shown up with the cut on his arm, when he had explained to her about practicing with real weapons after she freaked out on him.

Her heart stuttered inexplicably just thinking of it, remembering his face when she'd handed back his sai. Those eyes… It was disconcerting, and for a moment she lost track of what he was saying on the phone. She gave herself a mental shake and refocused on the conversation. Still, it left her with the impression that she was only just beginning to breach his well-guarded exterior… and made her wonder what else there might be to discover if he ever decided to throw the door wide open.

"So, I have a question for you," April said during a natural lull in their conversation.

"Shoot," Raph answered easily. They had been talking for a while, but she didn't seem to be in any hurry to get off the phone, and neither was he.

"Earlier, when I called… what were you really listening to?"

The tone of her voice indicated a shift in her mood from playful to inquisitive, and he cleared his throat lightly before answering, "No one you'd know."

"Oh, come on!" she replied with a hint of indignation. "How would you even know all the bands I've heard of?"

"It's just, um, a bit heavier than you probably listen to."

"Please, Raph. Even if it's not my particular taste, I live with Casey, remember? And anyway, I like some heavy metal bands."

The mention of living with Casey made his stomach flip, but he somehow forced out a reply. "Casey don't listen to this kind a' music either."

"Really? Well now I have to know. Come on, what is it?"

Clearly she wasn't going to let this go. "Okay. It was. Uh. Cannibal Corpse?"

There was silence for a moment, and then she echoed, "Cannibal Corpse? That's the band?"

"Yup."

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

"Wow. So nothing like Justin Bieber then, I'm guessing."

"Not so much," he agreed.

"Hm. And what genre would fall under?"

"Cannibal Corpse? Officially that would be, uh, death metal."

"Ohhhhhh, death metal. Phew! I was afraid it was something really dark."

Raphael couldn't help it—he laughed. "Ain't no Dying Fetus, but it'll do."

"Dying Fetus? That's an actual name of a band you like? For real?"

"Yup. I know it ain't everyone's cup of tea, but yeah."

"Are all the names like that?"

"Like what?"

"So… disturbing."

"I mean, not all of them… but shock value is probably a perk."

"Shock value, huh? Okay. Well go ahead, then."

"Go ahead what?"

"Shock me. Let's hear some of these other bands you're so fond of."

He shifted a little, adjusting his position on the bean bag as he thought. "Okay, well… I already said Dying Fetus… and there's Six Feet Under, Kataklysm, um, In Flames... Children of Bodom, Cannibal Corpse, of course… oh yeah, and Obituary. To name just a few."

"Wow. Those are… downright terrifying, Raphael."

"Not as terrifying as Justin Bieber," he answered smoothly.

"Touché,"she laughed."How did I never know you were into this kind of music? I mean I just assumed you and Casey had similar tastes. In fact, I've heard you guys playing music in the garage during your male bonding ritual, and unless those band names you just mentioned are grossly misleading, I never heard anything like that."

Raph shifted again, a nervous movement that betrayed the self-consciousness he was feeling, even though she couldn't see it. "I don't only listen to death metal. Like, regular heavy metal is fine, and alternative that ain't, ya know, too… wussy. Plus no one else in my family seems to appreciate screaming vocals, so uh…. yeah. I tend use headphones for that stuff."

He could hear April take an audible deep, slow breath over the phone before she responded. "You know what I'm going to ask now, don't you?"

Ah, fuck. "Oh, hey! Look at the time! I should really be getting to bed!"

"Nice try, but we haven't even gotten to what I called about yet."

"Why did you call, anyway?" he broke in quickly.

"Oh no you don't! I will not be sidetracked!" she said imperiously. "I want to hear this."

"I… don't recommend that."

"You don't think I can handle it?"

"I dunno, it's… probably a little different from uh… well, anything else you've listened to. Ain't exactly stuff you'd hear on the radio." Different was putting in mildly. He didn't know anyone else who like this particular type of music, and April wasn't gonna like it either. Still, the thought of what she might think made him feel a little uneasy.

"Is it as bad as you snoring? Because that's pretty bad."

Another bark of surprised laughter escaped at that, accompanied by a pang at the reference to the times they'd slept so innocently in the same room, whether at her apartment, at the Lair, or their many camping expeditions in Northampton. He eased out a breath though, and answered, "I've never heard myself snore, but I'm gonna go with… probably waaaaay worse."

"Look, you know I can go online and listen to it anyway, so why don't you just play it for me now? No judgment, I promise."

"Pffff," he responded, as if her judgement meant nothing to him. "Okay, if you're that determined. Just don't say I didn't warn ya." He reached down beside the bean bag and grabbed his music player. He still had all of his music on a very basic device, since they couldn't afford to cast things aside just because something newer and better came out. Besides, Raph was a big believer in the 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it' philosophy. Well. When it came to anything except motorcycles.

"Anything special requests?" he asked.

"Whatever you were listening to when I called is fine."

"Fine. Cannibal Corpse, coming right up." The words came out nonchalant, but yeah. Okay. He was little nervous. He skipped back a few tracks on his PMP until he got to one of the more well-known songs in the album, "Evisceration Plague." He didn't bother telling her that she would find the song and album titles equally if not more disturbing than the band names.

Then drew the headphones up onto his lap. Switching to speaker phone, he said, "Okay. Um. Lemme know if you can hear this. I don't wanna disturb Master Splinter, so I'm just gonna give it to you through the headphones." He pressed play, and then held the phone receiver up close to the headphones. He could hear the music, but he turned the volume up a bit more just to make sure she was getting it. "Can you hear it?" he said after a few seconds.

"Yeah, I got it…"

Then she was quiet. And even when the song ended and he hit the stop button, she didn't immediately speak.

"So. There ya go. You want to go with me next time they're doing a show?" Raphael asked with feigned lightness. Of course she wasn't going to like it, he already knew that… so then why was he so nervous?

"I… I mean it's… some of the music, the um, instrumentals weren't bad…"

He almost laughed then at how hard she was trying to find something positive to say. It was sort of touching, actually. And all at once he realized it really didn't matter. Just the fact that she was interested enough to give it a shot was more than enough. "Look, it's okay. You don't gotta like it, or whatever. It's cool. I'm used to it."

"No, no! I mean, it's different, and maybe more of an acquired taste, but I—"

"April." That was all he said. Just her name. One word. But he said with an inflection that let her know he wasn't buying a single word she said.

She sighed audibly, and then gave it up. "Okay, look. Raphael, I'm sorry, but that was… well it was awful. Just horrible. It was… I mean it started out okay, but as soon as the singing started—can you even call that singing, though? Really? That demonic growling, or whatever, does not count as singing! I just, I don't get it."

"Yeah you won't find these guys on the Top 50 charts or anything. But like I said, it's no big deal." Raph had heard all of this before, and in much stronger language. Leo had fought pretty hard to get it completely banned when they were younger, running off his mouth to Splinter about how inappropriate it was. His father had listened to a sampling of it himself, and though he had not gone so far as to forbid Raph from listening to it, he had strongly urged him to find something a bit more mainstream. When Raph had refused to commit to that, Splinter had simply sighed, his jaw tightening, and told Raph it was his choice… but he himself didn't ever want to hear it again.

So yeah, April's reaction was pretty much what he had expected, all except for the part when she'd said she didn't "get it." It struck him as an odd thing to say. What did she think there was to get?

She was quiet for a moment, and then she said almost to herself, "Maybe… maybe it was just because it was my first time hearing it. The shock, or whatever. Let me hear it again."

He huffed a little laugh when she said 'the shock,' like she had just endured a traumatic event, but all he said was, "April, you don't have to do that."

"I said, let me hear it again."

"No."

"Come on. I mean it."

"No! You don't hafta try and like it just because I do. It doesn't matter, okay?"

"Raphael."

Raph held his breath at hearing his name uttered in That Tone. Apparently he was entering dangerous territory now.

"Just play it again. Now. Please."

The please was clearly tacked on as a mere courtesy, because it in no way sounded like a request or a plea. That was an order. Well okay then. What the hell did he care? "Fine," he grumbled, and hit replay.

Even April couldn't have explained why she wanted so badly to understand. As she listened to the song a second time, she strained to get any sense of just what Raphael was drawn to with this type of music. Did the lyrics speak to him? Seemed unlikely—she could barely make out the words! And the ones she could make out were disturbing. But she felt like she had to listen again, give it another chance. Maybe now that the initial shock was out of the way, she could listen with more of an open mind and something would... click.

When it ended for the second time and the answer still eluded her, she had the urge to get out of bed and pace. As it was, she fidgeted and then sat up, squashing her pillow behind her so she could be more upright. "I'm sorry, I still don't get it," she told him.

He blew out out an audible breath before saying, "Like I said, it's no big deal."

"Is it all like that?" she persisted.

"Like what?"

"So, so abrasive. Like are some of the songs more, I don't know..." She faltered here, trying to find the right adjective, but in the end she couldn't think of anything more specific.

"More what?"

He sounded just the tiniest bit amused, which annoyed her enough that she stopped dancing around what she really wanted to say and brazenly fired it off. "What I meant was, are there any that don't suck quite so hard?"

To her surprise, he laughed. Loudly. "Nope. From your point of view, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say the suckage is pretty much equally distributed."

It was really started to bother her that he wasn't… bothered by this! He thought it was funny that his music was so bad it didn't make any sense to her? "I just… I just don't get it!" she repeated.

"So you said."

"Is it the, the message? Blood, violence, chaos, that stuff? You're into that?"

"Not particularly. I mean, I'm not gonna get a bunch of piercings and start writing emo poetry about death, if that's what you mean."

"Well what is it, then?!" She could hear the high, strained pitch to her voice, and she wasn't proud of it, but she just couldn't help it. "It doesn't even sound like music to me!"

"Maybe that's what I like about it," he answered calmly.

That made her pause, and she drew her legs up and leaned forward a little, sort of hugging her knees. "What do you mean?" she said, paying close attention now.

"I mean, this music, it don't... pretend, you know? It ain't tryin' to be pretty. And why should it? Lots of things in life aren't pretty. Lots of things are hard, and unfair, and downright ugly, so what's wrong with just, like, owning that? Just let it loose, an' if people don't get what you're doing, fuck 'em."

She was still processing what he said, but after a moment she echoed the last thing he said, almost reflectively. "Fuck 'em."

He was right—art was about expression, wasn't it? And something about this music spoke to him. Which made sense, when she thought about it. It was angry. And aggressive. And unapologetic. Yes… she was beginning to get the idea.

"Then it's… something of an outlet for you," she surmised.

"Ummm… sure?"

That answer didn't satisfy her, so she thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to get at what she meant. "When you listen to this particular... genre, is it because you're angry?"

"I don't know. Never really thought about it."

"But when you do think about it?" she pressed. Now that she was getting close, she wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily.

"I mean, yeah. Sure. Angry, or just… frustrated. I guess."

"And once you listen to it, you feel less angry or frustrated?"

There was a short silence, and then a soft-spoken, "Maybe."

It wasn't much of a confirmation, but April was satisfied she had the answer. When Raphael was triggered, his brothers shrugged and rolled their eyes at his behavior after he stormed off. Classic Raph, right? She'd seen it go down, many times. But listening to that awful, violent, spine-jarring music probably struck a chord with him. Maybe it made him feel less alone, like his angry tendencies weren't so abnormal.

Maybe listening to it kept him from lashing out physically… or at least doing it so often.

She wished, suddenly, that she was there with him instead of talking to him over the phone. She wished she could see his expression, maybe give some small touch to show she understood. I get it now, she thought, but she didn't speak it. She felt intuitively that he might not appreciate her trying to pick apart his preferences this way, like he was a math problem she was trying to find an answer to. She decided instead to lighten things up with a more playful reply.

"Well. I think I'll pass on the Cannibal Corpse concert. UNLESS they team up with Justin Bieber. Now that would be a show."

Raphael laughed and said, "That would be somethin' all right."

"Well," April said some time later, "It sounds like things are winding down out there with the video games, and I should probably try and get some sleep."

"Yeah, sure. Me too," Raph answered. He was tired, and hoped that meant he would fall asleep quickly tonight instead of torturing himself with thoughts of her.

"Oh! But before I go, one of the reasons I called in the first place was because I wanted to ask a favor."

"A favor?"

"Yeah. I need some help in the shop. Do you think you might be able to come over sometime this week and give me a hand?"

Raphael's heart stilled in his chest for a moment, and then sank straight into his stomach. "This week?"

"If you're not too busy? I'm not sure what Casey's schedule is, but I thought if there's a night this week that he's working, you could help me out real quick, and then we could just hang out afterward."

His mouth went so dry, he couldn't even answer right away. It was too soon, goddammit. He had promised himself the next time he saw her in person he would tell her, but now that there was a plan, it was too soon. He would have to tell her. And then… it would be over.

"…Raph? Is that okay?"

"Uh… yeah," he rasped. Because what else could he say? He wasn't going to refuse her, and anyway, he had already decided that avoiding her wasn't the way to go about this If only it wasn't so soon… But then, was more time going to make it any easier?

"Are you sure?" she asked, clearly picking up on his hesitation.

Then he cleared his throat and took a slow breath before speaking again. "I mean, um. I was just trying to remember whether we have, uh, any training exercises planned for this week. But as long as there's no conflict… yeah. Should be fine."

"Okay. Great! As soon as I find out Casey's work schedule, we'll set something up."

"Sounds good."

They both said good night then, and though he had actually been feeling pretty relaxed five minutes ago, by the time he got off the phone Raphael knew sleep wouldn't come any time soon.