Hey—this is my first venture into Power Ranger territory…I usually write Gilmore Girls. But inspiration struck, and here it is. Fluffy one-shot, unless I decide to continue. Thanks, and please review! --Anastasia
PRDT— Sickness is Catching (Fever)
"Kira? Honey? Are you awake? You have a visitor."
Kira Ford groaned into her pillow, pressing her feverish forehead into the cool fabric.
"Uh…"
"It's okay, Mrs. Ford. I won't bother her for too long." Conner McKnight's voice drifted through the closed door, and Kira buried herself further into her nest—uh, bed. The door opened softly, and the tall Red Ranger appeared, carrying a small Tupperware container.
"Hey, Kira." He said softly, sitting on the edge of her bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Conner, what are you doing here?" she rasped. "Go away! I look like hell." He grinned.
"Making the rounds. Ethan's sick, too. I brought him soup. Besides," he said, his voice softening, "you don't look like hell. You're beautiful, like always."
Kira felt her face flush hot, and decided to blame it on the fever before she got herself into real trouble. "Conner…"
He smiled. "Jeez, but you sound like crap." He laughed, a sign that he was teasing. "It's kinda sexy, though."
"If I wasn't feeling like this, I'd get out of bed and kick your ass."
"I know. That's why I said it. I'm getting them out know—don't know when you'll be sick again, being a…well, you know."
"I guess even Power Rangers aren't immune from the flu."
"Tell me about it. Ethan's barely coherent. At least you're talking to me in complete sentences. He, on the other hand, can barely open his eyes."
"Wait—what happens if Mesogog attacks?" Kira sniffed worriedly. Conner gave her an easy grin.
"I'll take care of it. I am the 'Lone Ranger,' after all." Kira groaned.
"Conner, that was the worst joke I've ever heard. Besides, you're not even alone. You have Trent and Dr. O."
"Yeah, but it doesn't feel…right without you and Ethan, you know what I mean?" Kira smiled softly.
"Yeah, I do."
They smiled at each other for a quiet moment before Conner broke the silence.
"Hey, I wonder if I could call them Tonto and Silver."
"If you want Dr. O's Brachio-staff shoved up your ass, sure."
They laughed, falling into another easy silence. Then Conner cleared his throat and stood up, saying, "I'd better get going. You need rest. Oh, here—you should eat this, too."
"What is it?"
"Chicken noodle soup. It's good for you."
"Did you make it?" Kira asked, trying not to sound scared.
"Are you kidding? I don't want to make you even more sick. Hayley made it—she said it was her secret recipe."
"Oh. Thanks, Conner. Tell Hayley thanks, too."
"Sure. Feel better, Kira." With that, Conner leaned down and kissed her forehead, his lips cool against her fevered skin. He gave her one last smile, and left, leaving her to shake her head in denial and confusion.
He had to stop doing that—with a fever this high, she might never come down.
