--August 1st, 1998; 12:34pm
     “All aboard!”  Casey called cheerfully, loading the last of the stuff into the truck.  Mona gave everyone a hug and a kiss on the cheek goodbye.  Raph clasped hands with his bros, patted Wendy on the head--earning him a wicked glare--and bowed to his sensei.
     “Take care my students.  Have a nice time,” Splinter nodded to both of them.
     “Don’t worry, they will,” Don muttered to a strangely quite Mike standing next to him.  Both Mike and Wendy seemed a little. . . on edge.  Don couldn’t quite explain it.  Perhaps it was just because Mona and Raph would be getting out of workouts this weekend.
     “See you Sunday night!” Mona waved as she hopped into the back of the truck.  Raph followed, cozying in next to her.
     Casey shoved up the tailgate, then dropped the lid to the tinted topper, latching both.  “Looks like it just gonna be you guys this weekend.  I got called in to work, and April says she’s finishing up a big story.”
     “Don’t worry, we’ll manage somehow,” Leo grinned, then laughed as Mona and Raph pressed their faces against the glass and blew, causing their cheeks to puff out like blowfish.
     Casey tapped the glass, “Hey, hey!  You two are gonna be cleaning that glass when we get back!”  He rolled his eyes at Splinter as he climbed behind the wheel, “Kids.”
     The Rat grinned.

     “So,” Raph pulled Mona to him as they started down the bumpy road, “What do we do first?”  He began to kiss her neck, letting his hands feel the curves of her body.
     “Woah slow down there, Tex,” Mona pulled away gently.  “There will be plenty of time for that later.”
     There was a look of longing in his eyes, “This will be the first time we don’t have to sneak around.”
     She smiled and planted a sweet kiss on his lips, “This will be a fabulous weekend.  But I think Casey has something he wants you to help him with this evening.”
     “Oh man!” Raph sighed, pouting.
     Mona giggled, “You’re acting like it’s our first time.”
     “First time we don’t have to worry about being heard or caught.”
     She snuggled in next to him and sighed contently, “This will be a weekend we will never forget.  Trust me, baby.”
     She could practically hear Raph’s grin, “I’m counting on it.”
 

--August 1st, 1998; 8:57pm
     Wendy and Leo sat relaxing, leaning against a large shade tree and watching a flaming red sun set.  A few fair weather clouds still hung in the air, and seemed to soak up the color, deep red on the bottom fading to pink at the top.  The sky was saturated with red hues, which deepened into purple and finally dark blue as the sun sank lower and lower.  They sat side by side, the pads of their fingers barely touching in a friendly, comfortable gesture.  Wendy seemed a little tense, Leo noted.
     “What’s on your mind?”  He finally asked.
     “Mona Lisa and Raph,” She said after a moment.  “I’m worried.”
     Leo grinned wickedly, “Don’t be.  I think they can figure out what to do.”
     Wendy didn’t return the grin, “No, not that.  Some else. . .”  She trailed off.  Leo waited for her to finish, shifting his grip so their fingers laced together.  Her hand felt small and soft, yet somehow strong and powerful.  “. . . Something bad.”  She finally said.
     Leo sat up a little, frowning at her.  “What do you mean?  How can you tell?”
     Wendy shook her head, “I don’t know, I just feel it.  I know it.”  Her brow furrowed with frustration, “I just don’t know when.  It may be tomorrow, it may be next month, but something’s going to happen. . .”
     Feeling uneasiness beginning to rise, Leo stared up into the cooling sky, “Why don’t I feel it too?  Raph and I are supposed to be bonded, connected.  Why can’t I sense it too?  What’s wrong with me?’
     “Nothing is wrong with you,” Wendy said firmly.  “Mona and I have had our own kind of mental bond for many years.  Plus, I have my wand, and it helps.  Besides, I’m not sure that what’s going to happen has anything to do with Raph at all.”
     “Do you think they’re in some kind of danger?”
     “I’m not sure about Raph, but I know it true for Mona.  Mike’s been feeling it too, I’m sure of it.”
     Leo nodded, “He’s been acting weird lately.  We’ll have to ask him.”
     “We can try, but I have a feeling we won’t get much out of him.  It seems to me there’s something else troubling him as well.”
     “But,” Leo started, “If Raphael and Mona were in some kind of danger, wouldn’t Splinter have felt it?  Surely he would not have let them go if he knew there was going to be trouble.”
     Wendy shrugged, “Splinter’s good, but he doesn’t know everything.  He doesn’t have the same kind of bond Mona Lisa and I do.  We haven’t know him for that long.”
     Leo’s eyes lit up.  “Maybe he DOES know something, but would rather us feel it for ourselves.  A learning experience for us.  He tends to be sneaky like that.”  Wendy turned to him, shocked.  “Well, he is.”
     Sighing, Wendy stood up, “Lets go inside.  Maybe we can chat with Mikey.”  As they slowly made there way to the house, the neon sign in Wendy’s brain began screaming again, just as a tiny whisper started in Leo’s;  Both were sending the same message: “Something’s wrong. . .”
 

--August 2nd, 1998; 1:09am
     Mike stared up at the ceiling of his room.  The last time he looked at the clock, it had read nearly one in the morning, but he could not sleep, his brain would not let him.  Too many thoughts and feeling swirling around, he felt unsettled.  Earlier, Wendy and Leo had come to him, asking about the whole mental link thing, asking if he had any bad vibes.  He told them he wasn’t sure, but maybe.  Mike couldn’t bring himself to tell them about his dreams.  But, something in Wendy’s eyes told him she could already sense something in him.  He’d managed to escape their questioning when Don asked Wendy to come help him in the barn.  Leo had sat with Mike on the couch for a while, the two of them staring at the TV in silence.  Then Leo had retreated to his room to read.  Mike was grateful he hadn’t asked anymore questions.
     Mike wondered why Leo wasn’t getting any feeling of impending doom.  Maybe it was because the feelings Leo had for Raph were different than those that Mike had for Mona.  Sure, they all loved each other, but maybe the bond was different when lust was involved.  Also, maybe, if something bad was in fact going to happen, Raph wasn’t involved, thus Leo felt nothing out of the ordinary.  Don was in the dark too, because his bond was with Wendy.  But Wendy, the strange little psychic she was, obviously knew something.  She’s known Mona much longer than any of them, and maybe had a different kind of link with her.
     After Leo went to his room, Mike snapped off the TV and hopped into the shower for quick cool down rinse.  It had be extreme hot that day, and he had splashed around in the pond for a while after workout, leaving that “Dirty-pond-water-feeling” on his skin.  Once he had dried off, Mike slipped into his room, shut the door then leaning against it, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back with a soft thunk, allowing the door to support him.  After a moment he tossed his mask, belt and pads onto his inflatable chair.  He switched on his black lite after flicking the main lights off and lay on top of his covers, looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stars Mona had got him--he had mentioned wanting some once after he had gotten the black lite, and was shocked with she handed him the package of stars, smiling at him sweetly.  He’d thought his heart might burst with love for her.
     Laying on his bed, Mike decided to try what Splinter had taught them.  He focused and reached out mentally searching for Mona.  After what seemed like forever, he felt contact but jerked away quickly, shock drawing him out of his deep meditative state.  It had taken him only a moment to realize what had been going on, and he felt the heat of embarrassment rise in his cheeks.  He had invaded their privacy;  Mentally cursing himself, he hoped Mona’s mind had been too distracted by what was going on with her body to notice the brief intrusion.  At the same time, Mike felt a sad sort of longing, as his brain whispered to him, “It will never be you.”  He reached up and brushed away a tear that had formed.  That didn’t matter.  All he ever wanted was for his brother to find something that made him happy.  Mona was it.  And Mike was glad for both of them.  That’s all that mattered.
     Sighing, Mike switched off his black lite and rolled onto his side, his room now dark except for the faint glow of the now fully-powered glow-in-the-dark stars.  He hoped that his feeling of “bad-ness” was wrong.  He hoped he wouldn’t have the dream again.  And he hoped the sad ache in his heart would go away soon.
 

--August 2nd, 1998; 12:31am
     It was after midnight when Casey finally let Raph go home.  The damn fool had had a huge list of chores that he insisted Raph help him with.  The turtle grumbled as he sloshed toward the lair, annoyed at Casey, who knew this was supposed to be a vacation for him and Mona.  Raph somehow got the feeling Casey was trying to distract him, keep him occupied.  But once midnight came, he let Raph go freely, no more excuses to get him to say ten more minutes.  What was that crazy human up to?  Raph shrugged the thought off as he reached the lair door.  He opened it quietly, not wanting to wake Mona if she were asleep.  A strange light filtered through the crack, then flooded his vision as he stood in the doorway.  There were candles lit all over the lair: tall, elegant ones, and short, fragrant ones.  On the table next to the couch a bottle of wine was chilling with two glasses beside it.  Raph stood, gazing around for a moment, then shook off the shock and entered the lair completely, sealing the door behind him.  He walked to the bottle of wine, a small smile on his face.
     “Welcome home,” came a sultry voice from the kitchen doorway.  Raph turned, and what he saw made his jaw drop.  “Careful,” Mona giggled, “you’re drawing flies.”
     Raph’s eyes traveled up and down Mona body.  She was leaning on the doorjamb, propping herself up with one arm.  She was wearing a negligee of black lace and deep red satin.  It clung to her body, defining her shapely figure.  Slowly, she strolled over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.  “Surprise,” she kissed him lightly and smiled, then took a step back, “How ‘bout opening the wine?”
     Raphael reached out and pulled her close again.  “What wine?”  The satin she wore felt smooth and cool against his skin.  In a simple motion, he swept Mona off her feet and gathered her in his arms, carrying her to the bedroom.
     “Happy anniversary, Raphy,” Mona Lisa whispered as he gently lay her on the bed.
     “It sure is,” he smiled.