Author's Notes: This story began shortly after the the first Bay-verse live action movie came out. It wasn't a great movie, but it was fun. I liked the fresh new origin, despite the roadblocks it gave itself. Even moreso, I liked the giant turtles I wanted to play with this new size difference and fiddle a bit with this new scenario. This is just a fanfic I work on when I feel like it. It's been sitting on my computer for a couple of years before I felt I had enough parts to publish online.
I'm going to give this one a language warning. This is a little more crass than I usually go. I thought it fit well with the tone of the movie-verse.
When Leo Met Mona
Leonardo sat silently on the fire escape, five stories up from street level. Below him, people bustled about their normal, daily lives, unaware of his presence watching over them. The glow from the street lights below couldn't reach him and Leonardo was content to remain unnoticed in the darkness of night.
It had begun snowing about an hour ago and the turtle's motionless form was now covered in a soft layer of white. Leonardo did not move to brush it off. He sat with his eyes closed, nostrils flaring as he took in the scent of new snow. The city always seemed better under fresh powder; cleaner, softer. The snowfall seemed to swallow up all the white noise until only the strident blares of a car horn or siren would reach his ears. Otherwise, it was silent and Leonardo coveted the silence. He certainly found no quiet in the lair with his loud family.
A light switched on inside the window at the turtle's back. With the yellow glow on his shell, he shifted slightly to glance over. Moments later, the window slid open.
"Leonardo!" said a startled, female voice. "You're covered in snow! Get your shell inside before you freeze to death!" The window promptly slammed shut at the last word as to not let in any more of the cold.
Only then did the blue-clad turtle shift his body, coiling his muscles to stand. He was far too large to slip in through the window. Instead, he climbed the fire escape ladder to the roof and used the door to get into the building, brushing off bits of snow before entering. He silently crept down the metal stairway, peering out down the hall of the building's top floor. No one to be seen.
The room he was aiming for was conveniently closest to the stairs. When the door opened, Leonardo quickly slipped inside the apartment, shutting the door behind him. A woman waited for him; large chocolate brown eyes, thick brunette hair and wide shoulders. She was dressed very nice with pressed white shirt, black skirt and heels. She had a towel in her hands.
"How long were you sitting out there?" she demanded. "It's like 20 degrees outside." She began toweling him down, instead of giving him the towel to dry himself.
"It is not that cold," Leonardo countered patiently. "It warms up when it snows." Though his face remained neutral, he silently enjoyed the attention. The fluffy soft material rubbed over the back of his shell, then his arms as she moved to the front, patting down his chest with a softer touch.
"It's still too cold to be sitting out in the elements after dark," she ordered as she stood on her toes, looping the towel around his neck so he could use it to dry his face. She held him there, pulling on both ends of the towel to guide his face closer to hers. "I don't want you to get sick."
His light blue eyes peered through the darker mask, roving over her face as the side of his mouth ticked up slightly. "Okay, Mona Lisa."
She mirrored his smirk with one of her own, knowing full well he took personal amusement at saying her name. Leonardo and Mona Lisa; weren't they a funny pair? Even though he had known her a while now, he always used the full name even though most people just called her Mona.
She finally let him go and turned on her toes, heading for the sink and letting the water run until it turned hot. Mona Lisa owned a studio apartment, so there technically weren't any rooms in the unit, save for a tiny bathroom tucked away behind a door. The rest of the place consisted of a wide open space with a counter, sink, tiny stove, microwave and fridge for the kitchen area, then the rest of the area contained a mattress on the floor and a large bean bag with an old TV in front of it as the bedroom/living room. The whole place really wasn't much to speak of, but it was all she could afford.
"How long were you out there?" Mona Lisa asked as she filled a pot with hot water and put it on the stove to boil. "Why were you waiting out in the snow?"
"It's Thursday," Leonardo said pragmatically. "Thursday's movie night."
"Yeah, but I got called in to work. I left you a note on the-" she pointed to the window to find it empty. There was a piece of paper on the counter, "-counter that I forgot to tape to the window before I left. Either way, I thought you'd go home when you saw I wasn't here, not wait hours in the snow."
Leonardo just smiled that patient smile, wet towel in his hands after he had no more use for it. "I didn't mind waiting."
Mona Lisa just huffed and took the towel from him, tossing it in the bin in the corner. "Either way, we'll have hot chocolate in a minute. But first, I gotta change out of these clothes and..." she hissed as she peeled the black heeled shoes from her frozen feet. "Man, these stupid things are just tearing me up. I don't think I've worn heels all day since... ever."
Leonardo leaned against the counter, slightly amused. "How is the new job going- aside from the shoes?"
"Great! This place is so fancy; nearly a hundred bucks a platter, I'm making more in tips than my other two jobs combined. And I can use that money. That's why I said I'd fill in today. You know I usually take Thursday nights off religiously, but I want to make sure these guys know that they can count on me."
She retrieved a bucket from under the sink, filling it with hot water, before moving to the corner designated as the 'bedroom' and digging through the clothes on the floor for something comfortable.
Leonardo observed her ass in that tight skirt as she bent over. "I like the uniform, too," he added cheekily.
"Of course you do," she retorted. She kept her back to him as she unbuttoned her blouse and Leonardo politely looked away. It was the best privacy that could be offered in such a space, but Mona Lisa was used to it; to him. At first, she found it so novel how proper he was when it came to propriety. Now, she just thought it very sweet and was confident she wouldn't have any wandering eyes while she quickly changed.
In just a few moments, she was back at the kitchen counter, now wearing a pink sweater and purple flannel pj pants. She took the bucket and sat with it on the bean bag, rolling up her pant legs and putting her feet in the warm water with another hiss.
"Gah, my toes are so cold. I think I'm going to have to commute in sneakers and then change at work or my feet are not going to make it." She pulled one foot out, noting the blisters on her heel with a grimace.
"Here, let me see." Leonardo crouched before her. Even on his knees, his height and the girth of his shoulders dwarfed her. Gently, he placed her leg on his thigh, lightly touching the damage with his thumb. He grimaced in sympathy at the broken skin. "It will take a while to build up callouses."
"In the meantime, lots and lots of band-aids," she joked.
Leonardo pressed his thumbs to the taunt muscles at the bottom of her foot and she suddenly gasped, arching a little and clutching the beanbag material in her fist.
"What are you doing?" she asked in a breathy voice.
"Relaxing the sore muscles. Have you not had a foot massage before?"
He continued to rub her foot, and she continued to squirm.
"I've never had... anyone touch my feet before." She was glancing around as if looking for someone to save her from his grasp.
"Does it hurt that bad?"
"No, it feels..." she paused to bite her lip, "...really good." Maybe too good. God, was she that desperate for a man's touch?
Satisfied, Leonardo continued with his task, thoroughly working the tight, stubborn cords of a woman who was very used to being on her feet all day. He watched in amusement as she continued to fight the impulse to writhe in pleasure under his ministrations. The small gasps and squeaks were enough to make the turtle happy to be her personal masseuse all day.
"You are so sensitive."
Mona Lisa instantly turned bright red at the accusation. "Shut up! I am not!"
"So responsive. Every little touch."
Her hands flew up to hide her face as she jerked her foot from his grasp and put it back in the bucket of warm water.
Leonardo remained there, crouched patiently as she continued to hide behind her long, delicate fingers.
"I have to do the other foot," he then said.
"No you don't," she insisted behind her palms.
"I cannot leave a job half finished. It is part of my code as a ninja."
"That is a load of crap!"
"I'm not moving. I can wait here all night."
She remained where she was, coiled and tense, face still hidden by her hands. Leonardo didn't move, didn't make a sound. With a sigh, Mona Lisa relented, lifting her other foot from the water. It was received with large, capable hands.
Leonardo pressed his thumb to her sensitive arch, earning another sharp intake of air. Silently he went to work, coaxing out involuntary small breaths and tiny sounds from her throat. For a moment, he closed his eyes, concentrating on his work and those lovely sounds. He committed them to memory so as to revisit them on darker, less friendly nights.
He looked up to find that Mona Lisa had managed to snag a shirt off the floor and had put the material over her head to better hide from him. He couldn't stop the chuckle that rumbled from his chest.
"Shut up!" she barked, suddenly coming to life. She yanked back the second foot, throwing the shirt at his head. "This is all your fault, you and your magic fingers!"
She scrambled away before he could do anything more to her, sitting on the floor mattress to put on some socks and comfortable shoes. That would keep her safe from that turtle menace.
In turn, Leonardo took a subtle sniff of the shirt, finding her pleasing scent upon it, then tossed it gently back at her, hitting her right in the face. Mona Lisa merely swatted it away and got up to address the now boiling water on the stove.
"Jeeze, I feel like I need a cigarette or something after that." Her face was still a little pink in embarrassment, but the color was fading.
"When you train as much as we have, you learn how to take care of sore muscles," the turtle offered.
Mona Lisa glanced at him once more before retrieving the cocoa powder for their drinks. This was her reality now, having this massive intelligent being as part of her life and she regretted none of it. As bizarre as the mere existence of the turtle was, maybe their relationship was even more bizarre with how little they actually told each other about their personal lives. She knew his name, but he had never told her exactly what he was or where he came from, and she had never asked.
In the few months they had known each other, Leonardo only told her just a few things about himself. She knew he lived somewhere underground, she knew he had a family: a father and three brothers. She knew the family had trained in ninjutsu all their lives. She knew his brothers were also turtles like him. His father, she wasn't so sure what his species was, but the way Leonardo had talked about him, Mona Lisa assumed he was different than them. Maybe human, maybe something else.
Mona Lisa had never been to his home and had never met any members of his family. She never asked to, and Leonardo had never offered. For now, she was okay with that. Having one giant talking turtle in her life seemed like plenty, and she was comforted knowing he had others like him to return home to. She also had an idle suspicion that while she knew about Leonardo's family, they did not know about her. And for now, she was quite okay with that, too.
"You hungry?" she then suggested, opening the fridge. "How does reheated lasagna sound?"
"Sounds good to me."
Leonardo had yet to say no to any food she offered him. Sometimes she brought home dishes from the restaurants where she worked and other times she cooked herself. She secretly enjoyed cooking for more than one. In Leonardo's case, it was more like cooking for about four. It look a lot of fuel to power that large body, those strong muscles.
As she put a nearly full pan of homemade lasagna in the oven to reheat, she glanced over at the form sitting patient and cross-legged on the floor. His shell was to her and she watched the twin swords strapped to his back. Those dual blades she had only seen unsheathed once, the day she met him. Otherwise, they had remained harmless and snug in their homes, but Leonardo never visited without them.
As the food heated, she padded over to kneel next to him, placing a steaming mug of hot chocolate in his hands. He took it with the same grace he did everything else and daintily sipped it. Mona Lisa was left feeling a bit awkward next to him despite his bulky form.
"So, um..." she began, playing with her hair. It was a nervous tick she displayed whenever uncomfortable. "I was wondering... I know you have a family and all and you probably have plans, but... do you maybe want to do something Christmasy before Christmas sometime? I was going to work the holiday anyway."
Leonard glanced over at the top of her head as she continued to play self-consciously with her hair. He knew Mona Lisa did not have any family. At least any that were a part of her life. That's all he knew. It was a very strange feeling to know a human who had less than he. When he was young and undisciplined, he recalled being insanely jealous of the humans who could walk around as they pleased, who had everything he did not. It seemed like a charmed existence to be human. But things were not always as they appeared to be. He always had his brothers and a father that supported him. Mona Lisa at least at this part in her life, had no one.
"Like we could go get you a Christmas tree?" he offered.
She snorted. "Where would I fit a tree in this dinky little place?" Yet, the idea of bringing Leonardo to a tree lot was amusing. He could probably carry one tree home in each arm without breaking a sweat. She was suddenly greatly entertained with the idea of him effortlessly swinging a Christmas tree around like a baseball bat.
"My brother has this Christmas tree hat that lights up. How about that?"
She smirked. "Only if you wear it." Then she added. "We could make cookies or something and watch some Christmas movies?" Alas, there was very little else they could do together aside from watching movies in her tiny apartment. "No presents required. We'll just have a little Christmas party. I'll make dinner."
He raised a brow at her. "Are you getting me a present?"
She grinned at him. "Maaaaaybeeee. Is there something specific you want?"
He sipped his cocoa with dignity. "Dinner is all I want."
She huffed. "Fine. Since Christmas is a Thursday, how about we do the Christmas party Tuesday?"
"A party of two?" he asked.
"Aren't those always the type of parties we have?"
He smiled slightly. "I will be there."
She cutely scrunched up her face and made a happy noise before skittering off to get him a plate of food.
Soon, they were settled on the floor in front of the TV, dinner in their laps. Mona Lisa started whatever movie she happened to get from the Red Box around the corner. One day she hoped to be able to afford some sort of way to get Netflix to increase their viewing choices. Maybe this new job would help her with that. Until then, Leonardo was at the mercy of whatever title she felt like renting at the time.
This week's selection was another paranormal-induced horror story and Leonardo was not surprised. Mona Lisa liked to watch them, but was too scared to watch them by herself. Leonardo didn't mind too much. Ghostly horror movies weren't really his thing, but it was hard to say no to Mona Lisa nearly crawling in his lap by the end of the movie, her soft breasts pressed against his arm as she clung to him, staring wide-eyed at the screen.
But at the end of the movie she would peel herself off him and put the dishes in the sink while Leonardo prepared to leave, knowing any offer he made to help with the dishes would be soundly shot down.
"Thanks for dinner," Leonardo said as Mona Lisa checked the hall for any eye witnesses.
"Always," she smiled. "Work wants me to come in again next Thursday night, but I'll make sure I take that Tuesday before Christmas off, okay?"
Leonardo nodded as he slipped out the door. "See you then."
He heard the door close behind him as he silently padded up to the stairwell and then out into the cold of night. The big fat snowflakes that had been falling earlier had now slimmed down to emaciated flecks of white floating weakly in the air.
Out of curiosity, he climbed down the outside fire escape to return to her window, taking a few moments to watch her clean dishes in silence. Then he cheekily knocked on the glass and smirked when she jumped at the unexpected noise.
Her eyes flashed over to the window and she stalked toward him, yanking it up.
"You sure you'll be okay alone?" Leonardo teased. "That was a pretty scary movie. What if that evil spirit comes to get you?"
She smirked back at him. "Please, this little place? What's it going to haunt?"
Leonardo smiled at her, but he could picture Mona Lisa in bed in the dark, blanket tucked to her chin while she stared wide eyed at the ceiling. She would listen for any little sound, freaking herself out as the movie's curse hung over her head. The notion of that mental image filled Leonardo with an urge to stay, to join her in her bed and keep her warm and safe. And that idea wandered into other thoughts involving them and the bed that were entirely inappropriate and he quickly chased them away.
"You need to go home and get out of the snow before you catch a cold," Mona Lisa then said. She reached out and touched his forehead. "You already feel chilled."
"I'm a turtle. My body temperature is lower than yours."
"Just go home. I don't want to worry about you."
"Yes ma'am." Leonardo smiled as she shut the window in his face. That smile continued all the way into the sewers.