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April sat on the parapet wall ringing the roof of her apartment building, hands in the fleece-lined pockets of her down coat, gazing at the multicolored lights shining merrily in the windows of the building across the way. Christmastime in the City was a special time of year. The wreaths and bows hung on the lampposts in her neighborhood gave the normally utilitarian streets a whimsical charm, while lighted trees transformed the parks downtown to enchanted fairy realms. Decorations appeared overnight to brighten the lobbies and exteriors of office buildings, and festive storefront displays captivated visitors experiencing the magic of the City for the first time and lifelong residents in equal measure.
It was also a notably cold time of year. April shivered and hunkered deeper into her coat, tugging her scarf up around her ears when a gust of wind swirling up between the buildings blew across the rooftop. A dazzling blue light kindled to life in front of her. Shredder’s cape billowed behind him in the wind still gusting over the roof as he stepped out of the newly formed portal. Despite the biting chill, he wasn’t wearing a coat, gloves, or scarf.
“Ohmygosh,” April blurted, eyeing the bare skin of his arms. “Aren’t you cold?”
“When you spend most of your time in a tropical climate, you don’t really have much need for outerwear.” He raised a curious eyebrow. “Though if you’d rather head inside . . .”
“Uhm, no.” April waved a hand. “This won’t take that long,” she added as she picked up the thin box with the shiny red bow sitting on the coping beside her.
It had been left outside her apartment door a few days ago. April found it when she returned home after anchoring the late evening news – amazingly no one had stolen it. She’d scooped it up, dropped it under her tree as she passed through the living room, and promptly forgotten about it in her haze of exhaustion and the million things she needed to get done before the holiday until the previous night when Irma came over to share a glass of wine after the two of them finished staffing the Channel 6 toy drive. April went to grab her gift from under the tree and found the mystery box tucked between the brown paper-wrapped parcel her Aunt Agatha had mailed her from one of the stops on her cruise down the Nile and the box of teas she was planning to give to Splinter. There was no tag on it, but she knew it wasn’t from Irma since she’d handed her a snowman giftbag before they’d left for the toy drive, and she doubted it was from one of the turtles since they would have given it to her directly instead of leaving it in the hallway. If she’d had any doubts at all about that last point, they were dispelled as soon as she opened it and saw what was inside.
“This is from you, isn’t it?” she said, lifting the lid to reveal an elaborately folded paper rose nestled in a bed of white tissue paper. Shredder made a sound in the back of his throat and looked away. That was all the confirmation she needed. “It’s lovely,” she said sincerely. “But . . . I can’t accept it.”
“Why not?” He asked mildly.
“Why can’t I accept a Christmas gift from my best friends’ mortal enemy?” April snorted a laugh. “Gee, where do I begin? If the turtles saw it –”
“Far as they need to know,” Shredder interrupted. “You picked it up at one of those quaint little gift shops there always seems to be an abundance of around here this time of year.”
“I don’t want to lie to them.” She realized how absurd that sounded before she even finished speaking. The pointed look Shredder gave her further highlighted the ridiculousness of the statement.
“Mmhmm.”
April made a face and hastily changed the subject. “I didn’t think you even celebrated Christmas.”
“Bebop and Rocksteady have a tree they put up in the rec room every year and insist on giving out gifts. Krang tolerates it, though as a rule has no patience for what he’s deemed frivolous Earth habits.” He chuckled. “Was not at all pleased that time the two of them hung decorations in the main Control Room. Quickly became the only time they hung decorations in the Control Room.”
April laughed, picturing that massive chamber with its blank metal walls and huge portal/view screen decked out with garland and twinkling lights. “I almost wish I could have seen that!” She sobered and looked down at the box in her lap. Another image floated through her mind. Shredder, sequestering himself in his room in the Technodrome, sitting at a table laid out with stacks of brightly colored origami paper. Was this a figure he’d already known how to make, or one he’d learned only recently? Had he practiced a few times, making sure each fold and crease was perfect before making this one? “Certainly a lot different than the last time you sent me flowers,” April said softly, touching one of the petals lightly with the tip of her finger. “Don’t need to worry about dying because of this one though, since it’s just paper.” She lifted her gaze back up to his. “Right?”
“I’ve never been a fan of contact poisons,” he said blandly. “So hard getting the dose right. And even when you do, there’s always the risk you’ll eliminate someone other than your intended target.”
April blinked. “Oh gosh you’re being serious!” she choked. Shredder’s eyes glinted mischievously. April rolled her own eyes and shook her head. “I don’t have anything for you.”
“Keep the rose and we’ll call it even.” Shredder reached down for the box and slid the lid back into place. He then spun it around and presented it to her with a flourish, holding it out with both hands. April quirked her mouth up in a tiny smile and took the box back. “Merry Christmas, Miss O’Neil,” he said warmly.
“Merry Christmas, Shredder.”
The portal closed behind him as soon as he stepped back through it into Dimension X. Once the shimmering light winked out, April climbed down the fire escape and ducked through the window into her apartment. Popping the lid off the box once again, she plucked the origami rose out of its nest of tissue and slid the stem into the decorative vase on the shelf of her bookcase.