A/N: I do not own TMNT, therefore I borrow!

Hello everybody! I'm back with a new story and with good news. I've pretty much already finished the entire thing, meaning I have three other full chapters already written and edited and ready to be uploaded. So what does this mean for you all? Well, it means that I may just end up updating this story everyday until it is done...which would be Friday if I'm remembering the correct number of chapters. What do you guys think about that? Let me know your thoughts on that and the story...it's a little different than what I've written before. I think. Anywho!

As always, please enjoy!

"Whoo hoooo!" A pool noodle tucked under one arm and a scuba mask with matching snorkel tucked under the other, Mikey made a beeline for the Atlantic. "Wait for me Uncle Vince! Michelangelo will find thee!"

Leo regarded the retreating form of his youngest brother with a befuddled expression as he helped Don unload the grill from the Battle Shell.

"Dare I ask who 'Uncle Vince' is?"

"Evidently he is a long lost relative of ours," Donny supplied as they toted the grill across the sand. "Of the sea turtle variety."

"Oh." A thoughtful pause. "Are there even any around here?"

Don shrugged once their hands were free. "There are a few species known to reside in the area. The green sea turtle and the loggerhead for instance, but I'm skeptical Mikey will see either."

"Does Mikey know that?"


"You didn't tell him," Leo turned a disappointed look on his brother. Though there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes that sort of ruined the effect.

Don grinned mischievously. "Nope."

"Oi! Knucklehead!" Raph called, standing just shy of the water. "There's still stuff t'do! Get your butt over here an' help!"

"Can't!" Mikey called back. "I'm on a mission to find Uncle Vince!"


"A long lost relative," Leo supplied. "He's a sea turtle."

"I think the name comes from Vincent van Gogh," Donny offered. "The famous Dutch artist?" He added when Raph directed a blank look his direction.

"I know who he is!" Raph snapped. "Mike don't really think we got a sea turtle for an uncle, do he?"

All three brothers turned to watch the youngest swim, his head down in the water, snorkel helping him breathe, noodle helping him float.

Don was the first to break the attentive silence. "I...don't...think so?"

"Leave Mikey to his quest," April said, coming up to the guys with a watermelon in her arms. "He unloaded all the beach chairs and towel bags. Granted he dumped them into a huge messy pile, but he still unlaoded them. Think you could cut the watermelon Leo? Thanks!" She chirped, depositing the melon into his arms before he could respond.

Leo swayed under the unexpected weight, but was quick to recover. "Sure thing, April."

"Lunch is in an hour, Mikey!" April called, a hand cupped around her mouth.

"What'd you say!" Mike yelled back after lifting his head from the water.

"Oh sure," Raph's arm swept out in an annoyed gesture as he glared in Mikey's general direction. "Now he answers."

"Lunch! One hour!" April called, the corners of her lips tugging upwards at Raph's coment.

"Kay, thanks!" And then he returned to his search.

"Oh and Donny? Casey is messing around with the propane tank for the grill," she added.

"Gah! I'm on it!"

It was a total change of a scenery and a very welcomed one at that. While the Farmhouse had become a beloved vacation spot, and the occasional training location, there was something enticing about a trip to the beach. Mikey had been the one bring it up, Donny the one to make it happen.

He'd poured over maps of Long Island shorelines, done research, and had made countless excursions, searching for the perfect place. Appropriately enough Mikey had been with him when he'd stumbled across it.

"Dude," Mikey had said with awe in his voice. "Is this the perfect spot or is this the perfect spot?"

"Not yet," Don stated, looking around. "But it has the potential to be."

It was a little section of beach isolated away from any larger, public ones. Flanked on two side by thick vegetation and the other by cliff-like rocks, it was a bit difficult to get to. There would be no need to worry about civilians stumbling in on them accidentally. Not unless they did a lot of walking through unforgiving foliage or fancied a tumble down the rocks.

The water was cool, calm, and sheltered by a long distance of rock that flanked them on the right. About the length of a football field if Don's estimate was accurate, and they usually were.

The sand was soft and fine, though littered with pieces of trash and driftwood. A little elbow grease here and there and the little stretch of beach could become their own little ocean retreat.

So with a bit of time and as lot of effort that's just what it became, leaving only one issue: transportation.

It was one thing to hike through the trees on foot with no towels or coolers to carry, but transferring all of that to the beach for a true day of true fun in the sun? That there was the challenge, but Don was of the conquering challenges variety.

The solution came in the form of the new and improved Battle Shell, with its new flying feature courtesy of its future counterpart, the Hover Shell.

The thick foliage was less of a factor when their armored truck could fly easily over the tree tops, plus it only took one trip to transport all the necessities. Grill, food, drinks, towels, chairs, and family of course.

"I forget how focused Mikey can be at times," Leo said as he leaned back on his hands, digging his fingers into the sand and watched as his sibling searched eagerly for a sign of Uncle Vince.

Splinter took a sip of his iced tea, briefly closing his eyes to savor the taste, and then set the glass aside. "Michelangelo often follows his heart rather than his mind. When the two happen to agree with one another, the results are always rather impressive."

"Too bad it's usually for somethin' stupid." Raph complained.

"Like burying you in the sand for instance?" Don said, patching a crack that had formed in the sand mound covering Raph from his shoulders to his toes. In the two hours that they'd managed to tempt Mikey out of the water, for lunch of course, Mikey had pestered.

And pestered.

And pestered.

Raph had still said no, but then he'd been ganged up on, pinned to the ground by Leo and Don while Mikey, April, and Casey had worked quickly in dumping the sand over his body.

Master Splinter had watched, amused and noted that Raphael hadn't struggled half has hard as he could have.

"Like burryin' me in the sand." Raph agreed. "Would've gotten up by now, but it ain't half bad. And the sunglasses are nice. Thanks April."

"You're welcome."

"Aw, babe," Casey sighed, "I been lookin' for those."

"Well y'found them." Raph smirked. Had his hands been free, he'd probably have lowered the glasses to peer smugly over the rims. "They look better on my anyways."

"Says who?" The man challenged.

"Anyone with eyes," Raph countered.

"Keep talkin' and I'll burry your head next!"

"Try it and I'll break your fingers." Raph snapped back.

"If either of you so much as move an inch toward one another, you'll be dealing with me," April threatened, her voice the perfect picture of calm while she reapplied sunscreen to her arms.

Both of them seriously considered this before lapsing into a calm silence.

Leonardo nearly smiled at this, because he couldn't really blame them for the choice they'd made. There were a very select few he preferred not to deal with when angry. Splinter was one and April another.

It was a tossup for an angry Donatello and as for an angry Michelangelo...? Well, to be honest it had never come up, but he couldn't help but think seeing a seriously angered Mikey was something he'd find just a tad bit unsettling. Unnatural even. He hardly ever stopped smiling.

In the background he heard Mikey shriek, the familiar, and always amusing, sound was quickly followed by frantic splashing. Leo glanced back curiously over his shoulder. Out of his peripheral vision he saw Master Splinter stiffen and he knew immediately, that something wasn't right.

He was on his feet in an instant, hardly noticing that he'd kicked sand into Raphael's face as he moved. Hand shielding his eyes from the rays of the sun he called out to his youngest brother. "Mikey! Mikey, is everything okay?"

"What?" Raph said sarcastically, "did a fish swim by and startle him?"

"Raph..." Don said quietly with an edge of warning. He'd pushed himself up onto his knees and he too was peering across the water to where Mikey was.

"Something's wrong," Leo said under his breath and then he was running.