A/N: Because I am a cruel, cruel writer and these two are lovely and broken (or at least they are in my mind). Rated for non-graphic, rather implied sex. To be safe.
I don't own Power Rangers, no way, no how. Saban et al own.
She visits about once a month. Sometimes it's less, depending on where in the universe she finds herself traversing. It's just a pit-stop, like a welding of the tyres and a quick oil change, but it fuels her, keeps her going, keeps her human.
It's not easy paying for a past like hers, after all.
Karone doesn't like complications, so she keeps this simple. Zhane protests every time but he understands, wishes it could be different between them but never tries to stop her from leaving.
He lies flat and takes her weight, and he thinks sometimes in those moments she weighs nothing. It's not making love because that would be complicated, more like a release for them, like brief guidance back to another time. Sometimes he makes it last as long as he can, and it's selfish but he never hears Karone complain.
When it does end she doesn't leave straight away. She takes in those moments of quiet because sometimes that's all she has, resting against him and looking up through shuttered eyes. She lets herself smile and feel the warmth of his gaze. She knows he loves her, it's just a part of them, the part left untouched by Karone because she knows she could break him.
She is capable of love, of loving, but she'll never let herself fall into it, because she knows she'll never make it out.
She stays for longer this time, feels the rising sun through the open window, and she has almost allowed herself to break her own rule.
When she pushes off him gently, stifling a groan at her stiffening limbs, he almost pleads with her, his lips even part to speak. Karone silences him with her eyes, a playful reproach reflected there.
"Do you have to?" he asks anyway, when she's left the bed and he looks at her, desirous.
She finds her leather, pulls it on like a second skin. "You know the deal."
Zhane expels a quick sigh as he shifts up the bed, leans against the headboard with his arms folded behind his head. He's wearing a silver chain on his left wrist and it collides with the wood behind it.
"I know… Here today, gone tomorrow, that kind of thing."
Karone smiles over at him and finishes dressing herself. The room is covered in a red glow from the morning sun and it beats down on her, igniting her skin with its flames.
"It's just," Zhane continues with mock-protest, "I'm trying to make a life for myself here and you keep interrupting it. Not fair, is all I'm saying."
She walks over to him, leans across the edge of the bed and kisses him softly. "Well, old habits."
Zhane catches her with his hand before she can pull away, presses her into the kiss, like it could be their last. They'd never know, if it weren't for these little visits.
Her fingers clasp around the chain on his wrist and he pulls away first, slowly but he's smiling. That's his way, after all. Karone smiles back, mischievous. She unclips the chain and folds it around her own wrist, locking it on.
"For luck," she says coyly. "I'll return it next month."
She turns from him and reaches the door before she stops, dipping her head but not looking back. "Tell my brother I said hi."
Then she fades out, like a phantom in black. She leaves to face her demons, to fix what she broke long ago, because destiny is rarely fair to the ones it chooses.
