Renet stopped time. Even if someone in the 79th Dimension of Null-Time would notice, no one would pay it any mind. It was one of the most common tools of a timemaster or timestress to fix tiny errors that occurred now and then.
And Renet planned to fix something, alright. Even though it was not really an error in time and therefore not really any of her business. Well, at least none of her business as a timestress anyway. As a friend? Completely different story.
Hesitating for the blink of an eye, Renet took a deep breath. No, no going back now. Quickly, she kneeled beside Donatello. His hands were covered in mud because he had shortly lifted the little turtle up to have a closer look. Renet carefully grabbed a handful of the mud from the puddle he was staring at. Her face twisted in slight disgust when she made her way to Michelangelo and Raphael. Right now both brothers had their back turned to Donnie because Mikey was fishing the Frisbee out of a bush and Raph was standing next to him watching. Her work as a timestress had surely given her some practice in picking the right moment.
She threw the mud in her hand at Mikey and Raph. Losing contact with her body, the mucky substance was frozen in time again. The timestress then stepped aside and sat down next to April on the blanket. She was still unseen but did not want to take any chances. Here she was in nobody’s path and she could overview everything.
A little swing with her scepter had time running again. With a “splash” the mud she had thrown hit first Raphael’s head, then Michelangelo’s. Both grabbed their neck and stared, confused, at the brown substance now covering their hands. They spun around, Michelangelo’s eyes wide with surprise, Raphael’s narrowed with anger.
“Ewww!” Michelangelo used the fresh grass beneath his feet to rid his hands of the mud.
“What the hell?” Raph shouted while he let his eyes slide over his family and friends. All of them looked at him in surprise, appearing innocent.
“Is there a problem, my son?” The calm voice of his father failed to soothe the hothead.
It also did not help that Leonardo teased, “Knowing Raphael there is more than one.”
“Very funny, Leo!” Raphael growled. “Someone threw mud at me and it was not Mikey!”
“The last part is hard to believe,” April smiled, but a look at Michelangelo told her that he indeed was not the culprit but another victim. Michelangelo walked towards the rivulet to clean himself.
“Ya better believe it, lady,” Raph growled. “’A’right, here’s how it goes. Whoever did it confesses now and I will only pound him ta next week, not ta next month.”
“It is the 28th, Raphael. Next week IS next month,” Donatello said absentmindedly.
For the split of a second, Raphael’s gaze softened and he wore a fond expression when he heard Donatello’s voice.
“’Kay I will pound him ta next Tuesday instead of next Friday,” he grinned.
“Ya know, some people pay a lot of money to be covered in mud!” Casey laughed. “For a younger looking skin.”
As soon as Casey had spoken Raphael’s scowl was back and he trudged over the grass towards his friend. “So it was you, huh?”
“What? No!” The dark haired man exclaimed in panic. “Ask April!”
“It’s true, Raphael,” April said and handed a napkin to Raphael. Chuckling, she added, “And I would not protect him if he lied. I do not appreciate it when someone throws mud at people while conversing with me.”
“Also, there is no mud on the blanket.” Michelangelo appeared next to Raph, clean now but still wearing an irritated look.
Raphael took care of the mud on his neck and hand as best as he could with the napkin while looking around.
“A’right, then who…”
He stopped mid sentence. His eyes fell on Donatello’s hands which were still covered in mud.
“Donnie?” he growled.
“What?”
“Donnie!”
“That is my name…What do you… Ow!”
Without further ado, Raph and Mikey grabbed Donatello’s shoulder, fell on him and pushed him down with their bodies. A squishing noise indicated that Donatello’s butt landed in the puddle and Donatello’s face spoke of the uncomfortable feeling this caused.
“What…” Donnie was too shocked to be mad.
Raphael quickly got back on his feet. Raising his brow ridge, he spoke.
“Don’t know what’s gotten inta ya’, Brainiac,” he grinned. “But nobody else would have gotten away so easily.”
“Get away with what?”
“Mudding us!” Mikey exclaimed.
“That was not me!”
“Oh really? April would not do it and she vouches for Casey. The goofball was right next ta me and got mudded, too. Leaves our fearless leader, our Sensei and our genius. And the genius’ hands are covered in mud!”
“But…”
“Only one ‘butt’ and that’s your’s in the puddle. Sorry, Donnie-boy, but ya of all people shoulda been smart enough not ta leave any…”
Again, Raphael was cut off when another handful of mud landed on him. It hit him exactly in the middle between his eyes. Only half a second later Michelangelo suffered the same faith.
“The hell, Donnie?”
Donatello grinned.
“Just proving my innocence! As you said: I’m a genius. I can correctly calculate the angle and velocity needed to land a perfect hit. Why would I hit your neck when I can hit your stupid faces?”
For a second his brothers stared at him. Then their eyes met each other. A vicious grin appeared simultaneously on their faces.
“The brainiac’s all muddy,” Raph said slowly.
“Hmhm.” Mikey nodded. “I know from experience that the rivulet’s water can help with that… It is a little cold though…”
“Needs must…”
“Guys?” Donnie did not like where this was going.
He acted none too soon. He bounced to his feet, jumped over the rivulet and fled from his brothers in red and orange.
“Ya can run but ya can’t hide!” Ralph shouted over the meadow when Donatello disappeared into the woods.
“We will see!” Donatello shouted back.
At the rivulet, Leonardo and his father looked at each other.
“Wouldn’t we have noticed if Don threw mud over our heads to hit Mikey and Raph?” Leonardo mused.
“We should also have seen him turn around to do so.” Splinter nodded. “Curious.”
“Then again, we were deep in conversation…,” Leonardo tried to reason, not really believing himself.
“Still, it is most unlikely he could have done it, unnoticed by us and Miss O’Neil. Along with his insistence to be not guilty of this prank… Did you sense a lie, my son?”
When Leonardo shook his head, the old rat grabbed his own chin, absentmindedly scratching it. He was about to speak again when a light and gentle wind carried screams and laughter from the woods to them. The shouting was too distant to make out any words but the joy in the voices was impossible to miss.
Splinter smiled.
“It seems to me that nothing bad came out of this conundrum. Unless this mud-throwing poltergeist follows us home, there is no need to dwell on it.”
Leonardo smiled and so did Renet. That mission was a success, but there was much left to do.
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