TMNT are not mine, otherwise I'd be happy and not worrying about things.

Mikey sat at the kitchen table, notebook and writing supplies surrounding him. His drawing tablet was also there, and loyal Mr. Growly as well, perched on the table in his usual position of watching the progress of his Mikey's assignments.

He looked rather carefree, old Mr. Growly, except for the fact that he was missing a leg (Raph was eventually forgiven by Mr. Growly, but Mikey still had hard feelings at certain times) and had several "scars" from where Splinter had sewn him back together. Mikey, once he got over the initial shock of the "accident", had to admire his bear's new tough-guy look.

"You wear your scars well, Mr. Growly," he said, as he worked on the first paragraph of his writing assignment.

Splinter, used to such actions, wisely ignored his son. He had found that if left to this method, Michelangelo would write with little distraction, and would finish his assignment without fuss. He went about preparing the potatoes for baking, and looked in the freezer. There was enough meat-- perhaps some chicken tonight? They were sparing at this time of year because it was harder to get it, but with the coming fall and winter, Splinter would be able to get a lot more. The boys were not really big meat eaters at times, but with the colder weather looming they would need the protein.

He got out the cut up pieces, and prepared to stick them in the oven first, as they were frozen. If he were careful, he could bake the potatoes and not dry out the chicken. A little of this and that, and soon the pieces were seasoned and ready to cook.

Mikey worked on his essay.

"I should listen to Splinter all the time because if I don't, I could get caught by the humans and they would put me in a cage and make me do tricks and when they find out I can talk they will make me tell where my family is and then they will all be caught and put in cages and then we will all have to work in the circus and not as a cool thing like tight rope walker or trapeze artist or lion tamer but as the animals instead."

He smiled, sitting back to reread the first paragraph. Then he counted the words and frowned. He knew by looking at it that it was far from two thousand words, but still! Ninety-two was not much of a dent in the assignment.

Mikey figured if he wrote the same thing over again and again at least twenty-one times, then he'd only have to come up with sixty-eight more words to make two thousand!

Surely Splinter never really read ALL of the essays, did he?

Mr. Growly looked at the paper, and Mikey could read his thoughts.

"You're right, Mr. Growly. He does read all of it."

Mikey got back to work, oblivious to the fact that his father had been listening even as he prepared dinner.

A strange sound, muffled and yet audible, suddenly echoed in the lair. Everyone froze as if someone had flipped an on/off switch. Splinter, however, was the first to recover-- and he acted quickly to reassure his sons, whose eyes were large with fear of the unknown.

"Thunder," he said. "It must be a very powerful storm. I heard on the news today that there was going to be bad weather. There is nothing to worry about--"

The sound came again, a bit louder. It must be pretty much over the closest manhole cover for them to hear it echoing into the lair. It had happened before, but usually they were blissfully unaware of such things-- except for the flooding.

"Hmm..." Splinter wiped his hands on a dishrag, and checked the timer on the dinner. Then he sighed. If the thunder was loud enough to filter down to them, then the storm must be a powerful one for sure.

"Donatello, make sure we have candles available," he said, leaving the kitchen. "Leonardo, Raphael, get dressed. We will have to go out and make sure the channels are not blocked. I do not wish to be flooded out. Michelangelo, please make sure the dinner is not burned. You know what to do."

"Hai, Sensei," they chorused, and set about their various instructions.

Soon only Donatello and Michelangelo were left in the lair.

Mikey, after checking the timer, went back to his writing assignment. He had tried to get Splinter to stay in the lair and allow him to take his place, but he had earned many looks from everyone before being reminded that he was grounded.

"You shouldn't exert yourself, Father," Mikey had sincerely tried, using one of the words he'd picked up in recent days. "You really shouldn't! There'll be a lot of climbing and lifting and stuff! We're big now! I could take your place! Leo and Raph did this stuff on their own when they was six--"

"Michelangelo," was all Splinter said.

Mikey, though, did not give up.

"But then how about if Don goes, and you stay home?" he had tried.

Splinter had no time to puzzle over this. He had simply put extra items into his pack and without a further word set out with the two oldest, who looked at their brother as if he'd grown another head, but still kept quiet.

As nuts as they thought he was, none of them could bring themselves to be the one to squeal on him. They couldn't really say why, though. They had started to several times, but always something held them back; a feeling that they were going to get their brother in trouble in a way.

Leo, however, was finally determined! As he left with Raph and Sensei to check the channels, he kept thinking about Mikey's attempt to keep Splinter from going. It was time to stop this nonsense! He was going to give Mikey one more chance to come clean with Splinter, or else he would!

Don was preoccupied, so Mikey was left to his own devices. His intentions were to finish the assignment-- but eventually his thoughts drifted to his coming little sister.

"I can teach her how to stay out of trouble," he confided to Mr. Growly, as he stared at the assignment that refused to be finished. "That way, she will never have to write a two thousand word essay!"

He tapped his pencil, first aimlessly, then in an unconscious rhythm, and words began to form into a "song" in his head-- a song for Machi!

And I will love her like a--"

"Hmm... what rhymes with 'sis'?" he asked. Mr. Growly had no suggestions. "HEY! Don! What rhymes with 'sis'?"

"Miss," Don absently called back.

"No. I will love her like a miss? Doesn't work. Hiss. Piss-- No, not piss. Kiss? OH! And I will love her like a kiss! Perfect!"

And, on the page where he was supposed to be writing his essay, Mikey wrote his "Song for Machi".

Machi, Machi, little love."

"I should be a songwriter!" he enthused, as he looked at the two stanzas he had produced. Then he grinned hugely. "I can sing this at the shower! YES! Man, this is going to be fantastic! I can't wait. I wonder when Splinter's gonna tell us, though. He sure is taking a long time to get around to it."

That caused him to think. Why was it taking Splinter so long to say anything? Was he nervous? Was he afraid to tell his adopted sons that he was going to have a baby of his own?

Mikey had been watching a LOT of shows with Splinter since figuring out that there was a baby on the way. The character who was having the baby was nervous about telling anyone that she was having a baby because she was "old"-- she already had children who were grown up.

"Maybe Father is embarrassed for the same reason, only we aren't teenagers," Mikey suggested to Mr. Growly. "Maybe he is afraid of what we'll say... But he should know that we will love the baby!"

He thought about every possible reason for Splinter not telling them all just yet about the blessed event-- well, every possible reason except for the fact that his brothers kept insisting that Splinter could NOT have a baby because he was a boy.

"The Wheels on the bus go ROUND AND ROUND, ROUND AND ROUND, ROUND AND ROUND, THE--"

Mikey got up to get a glass of milk to take his mind off that evil memory. As he was up, he decided to see if there were any cookies left as well.

"After all, we're gonna need something to eat at the shower," he said aloud to his bear, as he began to scavenge the cupboards.

Nothing. Canned peas, canned peaches, canned soups, canned beans, canned corn, canned mystery stuff 'cause the labels were missing, canned cake, canned--

CAKE?

Mikey, in moving the items around to see if anything vaguely resembling cookies might reside in their cupboard, discovered the nicely covered in a clear plastic top, was a cake!

"It's a MIRACLE!"

"What?" Don called from the living room. Mikey quickly closed the cupboard and rushed back to the table. He grabbed up his pencil and started writing furiously.

"Nothing! I'm just-- you know--"

Don made a suspicious appearance in the kitchen.

"You're just-- you know-- what?"

Mikey looked up from his assignment, shocked.

"Why Don! You're acting just like Leo!"

"And you're acting just like yourself. What are you up to?"

Mikey stood up, gathering his notebook, his drawing pad, his pencils, and his bear, and walked out of the kitchen with as much dignity as an eight-year-old could display. In the living room he flopped everything including himself onto the couch and turned on the TV.

"Hey! You're grounded off the TV!" Don said sternly. Mikey, in a purely Raph-like manner, stuck his tongue out at Don and then flipped the channels just to show that he was his own boss-- well, except for Splinter-- he started to turn it off when his attention was caught by a movie.

"Turn that off now, or I'm telling Splinter!"

Mikey, fixated on the movie, was slowly smiling. Then he was grinning from ear to ear. And THEN he shouted in triumph!

"Ah-HA! Ah-HA to all of you! Men CAN get pregnant! Ah-HA!"

Don, about to shut down the set on his own (after all, he was in charge, and Mikey was grounded), froze at his brother's sudden shout of triumph.

"What are you... Mikey, I'm not getting into this again. MEN CAN'T HAVE BABIES!"

"Oh, YEAH? Well LOOK AT THAT!" Mikey, off the couch, forced his brother's head to turn toward the screen, where Billy Crystal was going into labor. "See? See? There's a MOVIE about a MAN having a BABY!"

And before Don could react, Mikey was dancing into the bedroom, his mind full-speed ahead with his idea! He would get up extra, extra early, decorate the cake, and give the surprise shower at BREAKFAST! It was perfect! It would force Splinter to finally make his announcement-- though it would take away Mikey's chance to demonstrate his "surprised reaction" to the news-- too bad, he had really gotten it down pat--

Don stood flabbergasted in the living room.

"But Mikey, it is only a movie! It's only a really bad movie!" he called out anyway. He looked at Mr. Growly sprawled on the couch, watching the movie. "It's only the worst movie in the history of movies! It's only make-believe! Man!"