I'm dusting off this oldie and trying a bit more of story.

Edit: 11/20/07- some of you may have noticed that Ivorydrum has an awesome story called "Count to Ten". I did write my first chapter of this story last year. I hope there is no confusion between our stories.

TMNT, Leatherhead, and Bishop are the property of Mirage and 4Kids. Audrey is the property of me. And believe me, if I could find a way to make money off of her, I'd do so.

Count to Ten- Chapter Two

I'm slowing down.

It's hard to accept, but I am.

Damn it, I do NOT feel that old, but lately I've noticed that, despite still teaching in my own dojo (though the nieces pretty much run it all any longer), despite daily working out, despite my sessions with Leatherhead and Raph- I am slowing down.

I base this revelation on the fact that both of my students managed to tag me hard during today's lesson.

And it had not helped my mood when Raph pointed out how many times he had managed to break through my defenses.

"Jeeze, Aud! Yer gettin' slow! You shoulda been able to block that attack- OWOWOWOWOWOWOWCUTITOUTOWOWDAMNITOWOW!"

Yes, I'm slowing down.

I should have been able to start smacking him on the tail before he'd gotten the word "slow" out of his wise-ass mouth.

"Ichi, ni, san, shi..."

I counted my way from Leatherhead's place to the lair, paranoia still evident.

It'd been several months, but I still kept an eye out for anyone-

- actually, I kept an eye out for Bishop.

It's been awfully quiet lately in the City. Just the usual stuff- Purple Dragons (damn, I've seen Hun on the news all dressed up- he cleans up nicely, but still, what a crook!), the Foot (despite the fact that Karai still manages to perpetuate this aura of respectability, as well as the fact that she's still looking to destroy Leo), regular crime; you know, business as usual.

But down here, listening to the muffled sounds of the trains rumbling overhead, or underneath, or right next to whatever tunnel I happened to be in, I kept an ear out and an eye out for men in black uniforms.

I hate when I get in one of these moods. As I walked along, I felt myself making every effort to walk quietly. I strained to hear past every squeak of unseen rats, of the constant sound of running water, of the countless drip-drip-drips that occasionally rained down from above. But all I could hear were the usual sounds of underground.

I counted my way to Splinter's place, under my breath, angry at myself for being so paranoid.

Man, Aud sure can hit hard when she's got her anger up!

Not that I can't handle it! I mean, I've taken the best that Shredder could deal out! Hun has landed a few good blows as well, and as for Bishop-

Anyways, like I was sayin', Aud sure can hit hard, but it ain't nothin' ta what Splinter has dealt out.

Heh. She sure didn't take that comment about slowin' down well.

I've been makin' progress with her help, though. I've managed to keep my cool with Mike lately. Splinter's been really pleased with me for doing so, and to tell the truth, I've been really pleased with me as well!

Of course, the extra benefit of driving Mikey crazy as he tries to figure out HOW to get a rise outta me has been pretty sweet.

"Oh, Raaaaphie!" Mike sang out, sliding up to his brother with a winning smile on his lips and a surprise behind his back. "I got something for you!"

And he held out Raph's helmet, covered with Hello Kitty™ stickers.

"I think it will look good on you!" he continued, the evil glint in his eyes even as his body got into its "run for your life Raph is after you" mode.

Raph frowned.

"You are gettin' predictable, ya know that?"

Mike, one foot about to lead the rest of his body away from the expected explosion, froze to the spot. His eyes were wide, but so far his mouth remained closed.

"And 'sides," Raph continued, looking at the helmet, "I got a new one the other day. I gave that helmet to April. And you KNOW how SHE feels about Hello Kitty™."

NOW Mike's mouth fell open.

Raph had wandered away, muttering something about "I don't wanna be around when she finds out about them stickers..."

Ah, I love being topside!

The sound of the traffic, the heady scent of exhaust fumes mingling with the aroma of the local food carts, the blaring of so many radios pumpin' out so many different tunes, all competin' with each other ta see who can make the most impact; people talkin', arguin', singin' as they navigate the unbelievably crowded sidewalks (man, am I glad for once NOT ta be on the ground- I'd go crazy in all that humanity! HOW can they stand bein' so close to each other?)- I LOVE this City!

Casey and me got plans tonight. We heard that Hun's plannin' yet another of his amazingly successful raids against some shipment at the docks. I'm guessin' that it's more weapons stuff. Casey's source is a dockworker friend of his who won't say how he came by the info, but Casey trusts him, and that's good enough for me!

I just wonder, though- when did Hun get so good? I mean, if this shipment is like the last few, then it's got somethin' ta do with Bishop's group. And I just can't figure out why Bish hasn't swatted ol' Hun upside the head yet. I mean, he's frickin' stealin' from the Government!

Hmmm... I wonder if Case'll get us a few of them hot-dogs? The smell is makin' me hungry!

I am Sobek, who dwelleth amid his terrors. I am Sobek, and I seize [my prey like a ravening beast. I am the great Fish which is in Kamui. I am the Lord to whom bowings and prostrations are made in Sekhem. And the Osiris Ani is the lord to whom bowings and prostrations are made in Sekhem.

I enjoy looking at this sign that Sensei made for me.

It has helped me, repeating especially that first line: I am Sobek, who dwelleth amid his terrors.

Thanks to the help of Sensei Audrey, however, those terrors are not so prevalent.

And my temper is much improved.

Oh, I still have to watch out! I cannot take my growing control for granted. It sometimes does not take much to push me in the direction of my "old" self.

Michelangelo, however, has benefited the most from my control.

"Hey, L.H.! Check out how I reorganized your lab!"

Leatherhead, entering his home with Donatello, felt something twitch in his jaw; Michelangelo had been in his lab?

Michelangelo had REORGANIZED his LAB?

"I tried to dissuade him," came the apologetic voice of Leatherhead's roommate Professor Honeycut. "But unfortunately, he was quite determined to do this- eh- 'good deed'."

"Mike, you'd better run," Don ordered, prepared to hold off his temperamental friend as long as he could. "You're gonna need a big head-start if you plan on reaching Splinter alive!"

"Gee, you guys are so encouraging!" Mike huffed, as he bravely (or foolishly) grabbed Leatherhead's powerful arm and started "dragging" him towards the lab. "I spent a perfectly good day for goofing off by cleaning, categorizing, and uncluttering this lab, and this is the thanks I get. C'mon! You just GOTTA see how I fixed it up for you!"

Don briefly considered phoning home for reinforcements. With any luck, Splinter could get there in time to at least help carry Mikey - or whatever was left of Mikey- home to safety.

"See? What do you think? I put all the thingies in order on that shelf according to size, and those bits I organized by color, and the chemicals I didn't mess with, but I did wash out a bunch of your test tubes and beakers that seemed to have some glowing yellow fuzzy stuff growing in them- you really shouldn't leave things on the burner while you're out, you could start a fire you know! And I also reorganized your file cabinet so that it's alphabetical now! That was a piece of work, let me tell you- Hey! How come you're counting old school? Man, you've been hanging around Audrey too much! She was counting like that earlier today when she found out I'd cleaned and categorized and uncluttered her kitchen for her."

Leatherhead, in the middle his counting ("...yotsu, itsutsu, mutsu..."), took a slow, deep, deep, deep... DEEP... breath, held it, let it out, and then placed a large and potentially bone-crushing hand on the beaming Michelangelo's shoulder.

"Thank you, my friend," he managed to sound grateful. "Thank you."

Donatello was more than willing, once his brother had left "to make more people happy- wait until what Casey is going to come home to!" to help me put the lab back to rights. Fortunately for me, Honeycut has an excellent memory, and it only took us a few hours to get approximately 75 of the items back to "normal".

Alas for my experiments on that mutating byproduct of Bishop's manufactured aliens... Donatello and I must now start at the beginning.

We want to be prepared. Neither of us can quite put our fingers on it, but this uncharacteristic quietness of Agent Bishop and his organization is disturbing. We both feel as if something is brewing; a storm of sorts that is gathering strength, waiting only for the correct atmospheric conditions to launch itself upon us with much destruction.

Sensei Audrey calls it "paranoia", yet I notice that she has been more "on guard" as it were, when we are strolling through the tunnels, or during our rare nighttime outings into Central Park for special training.

Bishop.

Ichi, ni, san, shi...

"... and then he rearranged my kitchen," I concluded over my tea. Splinter nodded in sympathy.

"Yes... I have not figured out what he has done yet," he said, sipping his own tea. "He was very helpful in 'cleaning, categorizing, and uncluttering' the dojo. Leonardo is still in there, trying to correct it all."

From the dojo I could hear, faintly, Leo's voice: "...four-shi-yotsu... five-go-itsutsu... six-roku-mutsu... seven..."

Hmm... I'll have to try that method the next time. It might be more helpful in calming down. It certainly would take more concentration...

"The sensei becomes the student," I smile to myself, then turn back to Splinter. "Where is our helpful young turtle anyway?"

"He is out spreading more helpfulness," Splinter sighed. "I trust that Mr. Jones and April will be appreciative. I hope, at least, that they do not injure him."

"I wonder what he's up to? Or what he's done?" I frowned. For some reason, this behavior was rather disturbing to me. Then I forced myself to shake it off. It was just something "Mikey" and we'd all find out sooner or later what was going on.

We talked of other things, mindful that at least one son was in the lair, and careful to not give him any reason to suspect that there was more to our friendship than friendship.

But though we chatted about teaching and movies, and (joined by a frustrated Leo) the benefits of counting to ten in several languages, I felt this little nagging "something"...

I just wish I could figure out what it was.