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Written as a bit of light-hearted fun. Leave your brain at the door.

**If you wish to continue this story, please head over to my ArchiveOfOurOwn account as for some reason no matter what files I add, it keeps showing chapter 1 over again.**", "writing": "Donatello shifted in bed and felt himself floating up into consciousness from a deep and heavy sleep. He resisted for a while, burying himself mentally deeper into the heavy, comfortable darkness where his mind was still and his body numb. He felt like he had had a restless night, full of vivid crazy dreams and yet more problems which needed solving, always a matter of urgency. As he drifted up, closer to waking, he listened for the typical early morning sounds of the lair. He was an early riser so his brothers weren't usually awake when he got up. Sometimes Leonardo would rise early if he was perturbed by a recent fight or issue so he could get in some additional practice. Like the guy didn't practice enough already. If Leo was in one of those moods, then his quiet grunts and puffs could be heard as he punched and kicked his way through an imaginary battle. Sometimes Mikey could be heard muttering in his sleep as he worked his way through those crazy dreams of his, often involving some kind of flying hybrid, mythical beast through forests of edible candy on the hunt for the ultimate cheese and jellybean pizza. And Raphael, well, he ranged anywhere from a low rumbling snore to a full-on jack-hammer. \n\nDonny stretched out his legs and toes and turned over in bed, floating ever upwards out from the warm cocoon of sleep. He had a headache. Something tickled his face and he brushed it aside absent-mindedly. Half dozing, he lay there, waiting for full clarity and the usual sounds to float around him, thinking of all the unfinished tasks he still had yet to do. He was part way through mulling over whether he should first check on his latest experiment, or start upgrading his computer array - simple early morning tasks, nothing too complicated to be undertaken until at least one cup of coffee had been consumed - when it registered how quiet the place the was. No Mikey muttering, no Raph snoring, and no quiet rush of water from the pool in the middle of the lair. Feeling weirdly startled by this, Donny came all the way to as he lay perfectly still, trying to figure out if something was wrong.\n\nThe sound of people walking, chatting and giggling, alarmingly close, made him leap out of bed on the defensive and scan around the room looking for the intruders. He instinctively reached for his Bo staff but instead only grabbed at thin air, quickly followed by the sounds of crashing and banging as he spun around, trying to gather his bearings and find his weapons. His outstretched arms knocked into objects that shouldn't be there, sending them crashing to the floor.\n\nWhat the shell?! Heart hammering in his chest, Donny quickly scanned the room trying to gather his bearings. He could instantly tell that he wasn't in his room anymore. Hell, he wasn't even in the Lair and judging by the thin sunbeams bouncing off the walls he wasn't even underground. He was in what looked like a hotel room of some kind; a double bed in the middle, twin night stands on the either side, a small couch at the foot of the bed, a wardrobe in the corner, a flat screen TV mounted on the wall opposite the bed and a whole lot of broken lamp, glass and magazines strewn about the floor, courtesy of his frantic twirl trying to grab at his weapon. To one side of the room there were floor to ceiling thick curtains, drawn to keep out the bright light which was spilling in from the edges. From what he could tell of his quick spin of the room, he was thankfully alone.\n\n[i]``Oooooh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh......'' [/i]\n\nHis first thought was that he had been captured, his heart still beating wildly in his chest as the adrenaline surged, images of being beaten, tortured, experimented on, interrogated. He did feel foggy brained and affected by a substance in some way. Panic and confusion clouded his mind as he instinctively crouched low and darted from one corner of the room to the next, gathering info, the layout, checking he was truly alone. What Donny couldn't understand is that if he had been captured, why was he in such a comfortable looking room? He tried all the drawers, cupboards, wardrobe, but there wasn't anything in there he could see as unusual; no wires, no cameras. He tentatively nudged open the ajar door in the corner to find an en-suit bathroom. Again, no wires or monitoring equipment that he could detect. He quickly made his way back into the main room and cautiously peeked around the curtain. He didn't know what to expect but it certainly wasn't what he saw. Squinting his eyes from the blinding sunlight, he focused on a scene of tall buildings, palm tree tops, the glistening sea. As he swept his eyes downwards, over the small balcony, he could see multiple blue shimmering pools and sunbeds. Brightly coloured parasols dotted around the poolside. There were no people down there occupying the beds but Donny saw what looked like a waiter walking around, touching up the sun beds and small plastic tables beside them. He ducked back behind the curtain before anyone could see him. Where the shell was he? What was the logic in being captured and placed...on holiday??\n\nOK. Calm down. He'd figure this out. He stood stock still for the count of 10, calming his breathing and pulse rate, and with a clearer mind looked at the one door he hadn't yet opened. If he really was in a hotel room, then presumably this door would be the exit. With another furtive glance around the room to check for threats or reaction, he strode to the door, arm outstretched to grasp the door handle, and froze.\n\nIt took Donny a few seconds and a few blinks to fully register what he was looking at as he stared at his outstretched hand. How had he not notice this before? This was......impossible! He flexed and wiggled the fingers to check it really was the hand that was attached to his body, under his control. \n\n``What the....?'' He murmured in wonderment as he twisted the hand back and forth. It was a human hand. Four fingers, one thumb, fleshy peach in colour. Painted nails? He reached up his other hand to automatically adjust the glasses on his head only to conclude that he wasn't wearing any. As he stared at his outstretched hand, his impossible hand, he also started registering what the other hand was feeling on his face. His face felt....too small, too angular. The bone structure was different, the nose small and pointed, and was this....[i]hair?[/i] Did he have [i]hair??[/i] \n\n``What the...?!!'' He muttered as he dashed to the bathroom to look in the mirror, stumbling over his own feet in his haste. He skid to a stop in front of the sink and stared, agog, at the unfamiliar reflection looking back at him. It was a human face, eyes round saucers as they stared back at him in shock. Donny opened and closed his mouth like a fish, too stunned for speech. He gripped the edge of the sink and leaned forwards for a closer look, twisting his head slowly from side to side. He was human! Brown eyes, framed in long dark lashes, open wide in shock and amazement. Full, dusky-pink lips, hanging slightly open in an O of surprise. High cheekbones and shoulder-long brown hair, slightly dishevelled from sleep. As his overworked mind tried to take in what he was seeing, his eyes travelled down his reflection and rested on - breasts. Clear as day, under a thin strappy top and narrow shoulders, were a pair of small perky breasts, nipples poking up under the fabric.\n\nDonny let out a loud squawk and swallowed heavily. He was human.\n\nAnd he was... a GIRL?!\n\nAs his whirling mind got to grips with registering his impossible reflection, Donny slowly took in other aspects of the room which he had discarded before in his haste to assess danger: The bikini draped over the shower rail to dry; the feminine clothes in the wardrobe, the massive assortment of creams and shampoos on the side of the bath and sink. Donny's eyes flicked down to his hands, taking in the painted nails, and back up again to his reflection. To be sure, he lifted his hands and, after a couple of jerky hesitations, pressed them against his chest to confirm what he was seeing. Upon feeling the soft mounds against his palms, Donny slowly puffed out the breath he had been holding and squeezed his eyes tight shut.\n\nHe was going to [i]MURDER[/i] Michelangelo!!!!!!!\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Donatello shifted in bed and felt himself floating up into consciousness from a deep and heavy sleep. He resisted for a while, burying himself mentally deeper into the heavy, comfortable darkness where his mind was still and his body numb. He felt like he had had a restless night, full of vivid crazy dreams and yet more problems which needed solving, always a matter of urgency. As he drifted up, closer to waking, he listened for the typical early morning sounds of the lair. He was an early riser so his brothers weren't usually awake when he got up. Sometimes Leonardo would rise early if he was perturbed by a recent fight or issue so he could get in some additional practice. Like the guy didn't practice enough already. If Leo was in one of those moods, then his quiet grunts and puffs could be heard as he punched and kicked his way through an imaginary battle. Sometimes Mikey could be heard muttering in his sleep as he worked his way through those crazy dreams of his, often involving some kind of flying hybrid, mythical beast through forests of edible candy on the hunt for the ultimate cheese and jellybean pizza. And Raphael, well, he ranged anywhere from a low rumbling snore to a full-on jack-hammer.

Donny stretched out his legs and toes and turned over in bed, floating ever upwards out from the warm cocoon of sleep. He had a headache. Something tickled his face and he brushed it aside absent-mindedly. Half dozing, he lay there, waiting for full clarity and the usual sounds to float around him, thinking of all the unfinished tasks he still had yet to do. He was part way through mulling over whether he should first check on his latest experiment, or start upgrading his computer array - simple early morning tasks, nothing too complicated to be undertaken until at least one cup of coffee had been consumed - when it registered how quiet the place the was. No Mikey muttering, no Raph snoring, and no quiet rush of water from the pool in the middle of the lair. Feeling weirdly startled by this, Donny came all the way to as he lay perfectly still, trying to figure out if something was wrong.

The sound of people walking, chatting and giggling, alarmingly close, made him leap out of bed on the defensive and scan around the room looking for the intruders. He instinctively reached for his Bo staff but instead only grabbed at thin air, quickly followed by the sounds of crashing and banging as he spun around, trying to gather his bearings and find his weapons. His outstretched arms knocked into objects that shouldn't be there, sending them crashing to the floor.

What the shell?! Heart hammering in his chest, Donny quickly scanned the room trying to gather his bearings. He could instantly tell that he wasn't in his room anymore. Hell, he wasn't even in the Lair and judging by the thin sunbeams bouncing off the walls he wasn't even underground. He was in what looked like a hotel room of some kind; a double bed in the middle, twin night stands on the either side, a small couch at the foot of the bed, a wardrobe in the corner, a flat screen TV mounted on the wall opposite the bed and a whole lot of broken lamp, glass and magazines strewn about the floor, courtesy of his frantic twirl trying to grab at his weapon. To one side of the room there were floor to ceiling thick curtains, drawn to keep out the bright light which was spilling in from the edges. From what he could tell of his quick spin of the room, he was thankfully alone.

``Oooooh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh......''

His first thought was that he had been captured, his heart still beating wildly in his chest as the adrenaline surged, images of being beaten, tortured, experimented on, interrogated. He did feel foggy brained and affected by a substance in some way.  Panic and confusion clouded his mind as he instinctively crouched low and darted from one corner of the room to the next, gathering info, the layout, checking he was truly alone. What Donny couldn't understand is that if he had been captured, why was he in such a comfortable looking room? He tried all the drawers, cupboards, wardrobe, but there wasn't anything in there he could see as unusual; no wires, no cameras. He tentatively nudged open the ajar door in the corner to find an en-suit bathroom. Again, no wires or monitoring equipment that he could detect. He quickly made his way back into the main room and cautiously peeked around the curtain. He didn't know what to expect but it certainly wasn't what he saw. Squinting his eyes from the blinding sunlight, he focused on a scene of tall buildings, palm tree tops, the glistening sea. As he swept his eyes downwards, over the small balcony, he could see multiple blue shimmering pools and sunbeds. Brightly coloured parasols dotted around the poolside. There were no people down there occupying the beds but Donny saw what looked like a waiter walking around, touching up the sun beds and small plastic tables beside them. He ducked back behind the curtain before anyone could see him. Where the shell was he? What was the logic in being captured and placed...on holiday??

OK. Calm down. He'd figure this out. He stood stock still for the count of 10, calming his breathing and pulse rate, and with a clearer mind looked at the one door he hadn't yet opened. If he really was in a hotel room, then presumably this door would be the exit. With another furtive glance around the room to check for threats or reaction, he strode to the door, arm outstretched to grasp the door handle, and froze.

It took Donny a few seconds and a few blinks to fully register what he was looking at as he stared at his outstretched hand. How had he not notice this before? This was......impossible! He flexed and wiggled the fingers to check it really was the hand that was attached to his body, under his control.

``What the....?'' He murmured in wonderment as he twisted the hand back and forth. It was a human hand. Four fingers, one thumb, fleshy peach in colour. Painted nails? He reached up his other hand to automatically adjust the glasses on his head only to conclude that he wasn't wearing any. As he stared at his outstretched hand, his impossible hand, he also started registering what the other hand was feeling on his face. His face felt....too small, too angular. The bone structure was different, the nose small and pointed, and was this....hair? Did he have hair??

``What the...?!!'' He muttered as he dashed to the bathroom to look in the mirror, stumbling over his own feet in his haste. He skid to a stop in front of the sink and stared, agog, at the unfamiliar reflection looking back at him. It was a human face, eyes round saucers as they stared back at him in shock. Donny opened and closed his mouth like a fish, too stunned for speech. He gripped the edge of the sink and leaned forwards for a closer look, twisting his head slowly from side to side. He was human! Brown eyes, framed in long dark lashes, open wide in shock and amazement. Full, dusky-pink lips, hanging slightly open in an O of surprise. High cheekbones and shoulder-long brown hair, slightly dishevelled from sleep. As his overworked mind tried to take in what he was seeing, his eyes travelled down his reflection and rested on - breasts. Clear as day, under a thin strappy top and narrow shoulders, were a pair of small perky breasts, nipples poking up under the fabric.

Donny let out a loud squawk and swallowed heavily. He was human.

And he was... a GIRL?!

As his whirling mind got to grips with registering his impossible reflection, Donny slowly took in other aspects of the room which he had discarded before in his haste to assess danger: The bikini draped over the shower rail to dry; the feminine clothes in the wardrobe, the massive assortment of creams and shampoos on the side of the bath and sink. Donny's eyes flicked down to his hands, taking in the painted nails, and back up again to his reflection. To be sure, he lifted his hands and, after a couple of jerky hesitations, pressed them against his chest to confirm what he was seeing. Upon feeling the soft mounds against his palms, Donny slowly puffed out the breath he had been holding and squeezed his eyes tight shut.

He was going to MURDER Michelangelo!!!!!!!

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