A/N: Raphael was always my favorite turtle so this fic will center around him, haven't made up my mind if I'm going to insert another female into this tale or not for another turtle, if I do it will be down the road…. Enjoy!
Title: To Catch a Thief
Summary: A thief manages to get her self caught up in the turtles lives, and she finds her self choosing between the life of a criminal, or that of a hero-not to mention the conflicting feelings she has for a hotheaded turtle.
Rated: eventual M, T for now due to my potty mouth :p
Setting: pre-2007 movie, then after
Dis: Don't own TMNT, tho Alice is my own creation
Chapter One: Damsel in Distress?
A black clothed figure stood in front of a jewelry case glittering with diamonds, sapphires, and many more valuable gems. The body type of the person whose face was hidden by a large hood instead of a balaclava, made it easy to determine it was a female. Nylon gloved fingers danced over the tops of the cases, eyes beneath the hood filled with pleasure as they took in the treasures. Finally, she gripped the glass cutter that'd been in one of the compartments of her utility belt and sliced large circles in the cases she wanted, making a fist and smashing the glass inside when finished. She wasn't worried about the alarm, it was an older model and easily disarmed within moments of lock picking the back door. However, there were vigilantes out there and she didn't want to stick around incase one of them were lingering in the shadows. One of which was the Nightwatcher, who has been a pain on all of her fellow criminal's asses.
For months, though, she's been in luck. She was quiet, sneaky even, and wasn't loud and brash like some of those moronic Purple Dragon's could be. She was patient, and didn't let the whole of New York know what she was up to with large theatrics.
"Hello," she murmured, delicately picking up a silver jaguar pendant with emerald eyes. It would be a piece she kept for herself instead of selling to her contacts. She tossed the pendant in the bag and grabbed up all she could, careful of the glass that lay in with the jewels.
She'd pawned off the ruby ring she now put in her bag about a week ago. She'd gotten a couple grand off of it and she went behind the counters now and bent, knees cracking before she opened the sliding door that hid the safe. This was where he'd gotten the spare cash to pay her. Silly fool, showing all in the store where the large bills were hidden. She took out a stethoscope that she stashed in the sack and using her hearing and patience, managed to open the safe in less than a minute. She quickly emptied the safe, leaving nothing behind. She slid her loot over one shoulder and made a quick exit.
There would be no fingerprints, no traces of who she was. The hood had kept her face hidden from the poor quality camera and even now she kept her head down as she passed it. She opened the back door, locking it before closing it behind her. Smirking she blended in with the shadows of the alley, walking lightly until coming to a fire escape. She pulled herself up on top of the roof of the building she just robbed and only then did she let the hood fall.
Brunette hair was up in a tight bun that she loosened, the brown mass falling to her lower back. Dark brown eyes scanned the area to make sure all was clear. She walked to the other end of the roof, her flat boots silent against the concrete rooftop. The top she wore was of her own design: black, long-sleeved leather jacket that she could easily maneuver in that the hood attached to. The pants, black and fitted, had side pockets to keep her extra tools handy. No matter how many writers deemed it possible, it was impossible to comfortably commit a heist in a skin-tight leather catsuit and heels. She preferred comfort and maneuverability over style.
Back when she was a young teenager with dreams, she'd always wanted to be a designer, to have her work showcased in New York's Fashion Week. Her dreams never came true. Her mother left her and her sister alone with their father to pursue a relationship with someone ten years her junior in California. Her once loving father turned into a drunk who liked to sometimes use his fists against her to make sure she knew he was in charge, the scar on her upper lip a result of a punch that'd split her lip open. She made sure he never touched Danica, her sister, who now resided in Montana with her fiancée.
Alice Erikson threw all her dreams away when she turned eighteen and obtained a job instead of going to college. Danica moved in with her and Alice worked hard until her sister turned eighteen and went to school on a scholarship. That was where she met Jack, and now the two of them were living in Jack's hometown of Springwood, Montana-and had asked Alice to come with them. Jack knew of their past and let Alice know numerous time how grateful he was that Alice protected her younger sister but Alice decided to stay here.
Having the need to raise not only herself but her sister as well, Alice trained herself into becoming a thief. She first stole from the place she worked at, her boss reminding her too much of her father to leave alone. She then slowly moved her way up from pick pocketing to disarming high-tech security devices. She'd been caught, once, but had managed to weasel her way out of the charges when the evidence deemed to be a bit TOO circumstantial. She had contacts that took the jewelry off of her hands, the money she now made enabling her to live comfortably.
She didn't feel bad about stealing. The economy they lived in now, it was a dog-eat-dog world. Most of those she stole from had insurance anyway, not to mention the money she made in the past kept her and her sister away from her father. Not to mention, stealing was a total rush that she was addicted to.
Starting at a jog, she retraced the steps that brought her here, leaping from one rooftop to the other comfortably on her way back to her place. She enjoyed the simple exercise after a large heist, the adrenaline in her far from depleted.
It was when she leapt from the rooftop of a local pizzeria to a neighboring bakery that she heard it. A very small cry for help and she stilled in her steps. She moved to the edge of the roof just in time to see a woman being boxed in by a couple Dragons. Normally Alice didn't feel the need to insert herself in situations like this but the woman was small, and had the same haircut as her sister… not to mention she was pregnant.
"Shit," muttered Alice, stashing her loot on the roof before quietly moving down the side fire escape. Every fiber of her criminal persona was screaming at her to take her loot and go. Her conscience, the thing she wished would just take a hike, was demanding she help the woman.
"Please," begged the woman. "I have a baby…"
"Shut up, Bitch," growled a Purple Dragon, drawing out a switchblade.
Alice silently stepped over the railing of the fire escape when managing to sneak far enough down. She judged the distance from her to the assailant and knew what she was about to do was stupid. She should have just called the cops, but in this city, it seemed like they were always the last to arrive at the scene of the crime.
Where the hell was the Nightwatcher when you needed him?
"Fuck me," muttered Alice before she took a flying leap, aiming her feet at the shoulders of the Dragon holding the switchblade. Luck was on her side because before she knew it, she hit her target and took him down. She even managed to land standing. She took note that the switchblade skittered toward the pile of crates to her right and kicked out to her left at the shocked Dragon who had, just a moment ago, been standing next to his currently unconscious friend.
He stumbled back toward a dumpster that had stains on it that Alice didn't even want to know the identity of. She hustled toward the Dragon before he could recover and lashed out in a way one of her contacts taught her. Punch to the nose had the Dragon's head whipping back. The back of his head made contact with the dumpster, the steel spikes coming out the back of his skull in a pattern of a Mohawk making a clang resound through the alley. Her knee came up to make contact with his gut, and she felt the air whoosh out of his lungs against her neck before she finally took him down with her killer left hook.
She turned around to see if the woman was all right. To Alice's surprise she was soon staring down a barrel of a semi-automatic that the pregnant woman held. Alice put her hands up and her eyes narrowed as the pregnant woman sneered at her.
"Stupid bitch," said the pregnant woman. Upon closer inspection she noticed that the woman's hair was black and matted, she had on ripped jeans and a black shirt. At the wrist she saw the tail end of a tattoo, a tattoo of a purple dragon.
"I saved your ass," said Alice.
"Please," said the woman. "You fell right into our trap. Though you ain't who we were targeting… It'll be one more hero off the streets."
"You gotta be shittin' me," said Alice, hands on her hips now, not caring that a gun was pointed at her. "You even pregnant?"
"Nah," said the woman, lifting her shirt to show a silicone baby bump.
"Look I'm no hero. Only reason I came was cause I thought you were pregnant. Take a look at the get-up. Dressed in black, fancy dancy belt. What's that say to ya?"
"You tryin' to confuse me? You ain't one of us. You just a stupid-"
Her words were cut off as, out of no where, a long piece of chain came whipping out of the shadows to her wrist. It snapped so hard that the pain made the woman drop her gun. Before she could cry out in pain, however, another piece of chain came out and wrapped around her and pulled her into the shadows.
'Crap,' thought Alice, 'the Nightwatcher.'
She took immediate action and started to run for it. With the curses of a struggling woman coming from behind her she leapt up toward the ladder of a fire escape and started the climb up to where her loot was. She didn't give pause as the woman was suddenly silenced behind her and managed to make it to the top of the roof without sensing someone following her. She knew better, though. She'd heard rumors of this guy from some of her contacts. He was fast, and moved in the shadows like a damned ninja. Grabbing her bag she turned to make a run in the direction of her home only to run into metal armor. Stumbling back she first regained balance then looked up to see the Nightwatcher, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at her- or at least she figured he was behind that large helmet of his.
"And where do ya think you're goin'?"
Raphael's night had started off slow. He managed to bag a couple drug dealers near the docks and a mugger over near the corporate offices in downtown. He was the Nightwatcher. He did the job alone, what he and his brothers used to do. Leo split on them, off to become a better leader or whatever. Raphael didn't buy it, he shoulda been back by now and instead he chose to stay in South America. Leo abandoned them all, as well as his duty. Raphael couldn't do what Mikey and Don were doing. He couldn't get a job and pretend to be normal. He wasn't normal; he wasn't going to fool himself. Instead, he did what he did best: beat in the heads of punks who thought now that the turtles were M.I.A. they could take over the city.
What he liked best was that the Nightwatcher didn't have to hide in the shadows as much, the cops didn't bother him cause he was pretty much picking up what they didn't have time to respond to. Also, there was no one trying to lead him, or rag on him for his choices. He was his own boss, and he preferred it that way. No one was catching on to him, hell, his whole family thought he was just sleeping the day AND night away… he couldn't tell them, for one they might try and stop him or even worse: join him. Hell no, he preferred working alone.
He'd been ready to call it a night when a black clothed figure caught his attention, a female, running rooftop to rooftop, with a bag over her shoulder. Now he knew many didn't find rooftops as a popular jogging place, unless you were trying to remain hidden in the shadows. The fact she was dressed all in black led him to one conclusion: thief.
'Should be fun,' he thought as he chased after her, ready to take her down, until a call for help halted him in his steps. She stilled as well and his amber eyes focused in on her face. She was debating on whether or not to help the victim. Raphael quickly moved in position because he could always track the thief another time, a female- a pregnant female- was more important.
'I'll be damned.' The thief managed to make her way down the alleyway as well and Raphael was curious as to what she would do. Taking a flying leap off of the fire escape and onto the perp's back wasn't what he would have guessed. She could fight. Damn. Took down two Dragon's without breaking a sweat and-
"The hell?" he said out loud as the 'pregnant' woman pointed a gun at the thief.
Son of a bitch, now he had to worry about traps being laid out for him before rescuing someone? Perfect. Seeing that the thief was having no luck talking her way through this, Raphael chose that moment to move. He leapt and landed silently on the alley floor then whipped the chain he now liked to use to disarm the female Dragon. He caught out of the corner of his eye the thief making a run for it.
The female Dragon went down with not much of a fight since she no longer had a gun and it took him no time to gather the three up and tie them all with a chain, the female blasting profanity at him the whole time.
"Do me a favor, Lady, and shut the hell up."
"Kiss my ass you tin can freak!"
Raphael growled, "Yer lucky yer a female or I'd pop you a good one."
He then left her there with the others, knowing the cops would probably find them in the morning. Right now? He had a thief to catch. With his ninja training it took him no time to make his way to the roof, using his speed and acrobatic maneuverability to land on the top. She turned, and ran right into him and he fought the chuckle in his throat as her wide, brown eyes took in who she just ran into.
"And where do ya think you're goin'?"