Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Saban. I do not own the title or the songs included in this story. Those belong to The Strange Familiar.
Chapter One
Sitting at her desk, tapping her pen to the paper was only making her more and more frustrated.
"This is going nowhere," she said to herself, sending the pen sliding across the desk, across the room and just barely missing the handsome young man with sandy blonde, surfer hair and ocean blue eyes that was coming in the door.
"That bad, huh?" he asked with a chuckle.
"Hey Jake," she said and smiled, "Yes, that bad. I haven't written a song in two months and I've got nothing. I've been trying for an hour and I have to have one by the end of the month for the new artist coming in."
"I see," he said, "And I'm fine, thank you."
"I'm sorry," she said, "You know me, I vent first hen ask questions." He laughed and handed her a purple CD case.
"This just came in," he said, "You might like it. But it won't save you from having to turn in one hell of a song at the end of the month."
"Nothing short of death will save me from that," she joked, "Thank you, I'll listen to it on the way home."
Jake opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the knock at the door, followed by the short but cute Asian woman pushing past him.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Ms. Hart, but you have a call on line one," the young woman informed.
"Who is it?" asked Ms. Hart.
"I don't know his name, but he said that it's very important," the young woman answered.
"Thank you, Janet," Ms. Hart said and then turned to Jake, "Just a minute.
"This is Kimberly Hart," she answered her phone.
Standing in front of her desk, Jake watched her expression go from content to utter horror in a matter of seconds. She set the phone back on its cradle and looked at him with an emotionless, ghost white face.
"I'm sorry Jake, I have to go," she told him in barely a whisper. She quickly gathered her purse and jacket and rushed out of the room, leaving a very confused Jake and the CD behind.
"Janet," Kimberly began, "I need you to cancel all of my meetings and have Jake handle my calls. I have a family emergency out of town and I'll be gone for a few weeks."
"Mr. O'Neil isn't going to be happy if you don't get a new song to him soon," Janet reminded her, "I don't mean to be so forward Ms. Hart, but I just don't want to see you lose your job."
"Janet," Kimberly snapped, "My family comes before any job I hold and if Mr. O'Neil feels that a family emergency is not a sufficient excuse to miss work, than he can go ahead and fire me. In fact you can tell him that I'd recommend you to take my place." With that, Kimberly rushed out of the building and hailed a taxi.
"Where to?" the man behind the wheel asked.
"1000 Jefferson Street, Hoboken, New Jersey," she said and sat back.
"Are you alright miss?" the driver asked and she noticed that he was an older Indian man with a heavy accent.
"I'm alright," she answered, "I just have a bit of a family emergency and I have to get to them as quickly as I can. When we get there, would you mind waiting outside for me? I'm only running in to pack as quickly as I can and then I need to get to JFK."
"Not a problem, Miss," he said.
Kimberly's apartment was a large one bedroom with a large living room and a huge kitchen with black marble counter tops and stainless steel appliances. Being an accomplished song writer on top of a two time Olympic Gold Medalist in gymnastics who still gets the occasional endorsement, she has made quite a bit of money and lives comfortably. Comfortably to the outside viewer, but she is very much alone. Since breaking up with the only person she really loved and having gone through some very painful and life altering experiences, Kimberly Hart has cut most of her ties with the people that once were her whole life and everything in it.
Kimberly had a great life, despite its obstacles. She came from a broken home having been through a divorce, and both of her parents remarrying. She was a cheerleader, a competing gymnast, and she helped save the world on a weekly basis from the evil monsters that frequently attacked. And she did it all surrounded by a very diverse group of friends with whom she may never have connected with if it had not been for Zordon and Alpha and the fact that they had all been joined together to become the first generation of Power Rangers.
Then she got the offer to train for the Pan Global Games with a very prestigious coach in Florida. It was there that she met a guy that she though she really loved and gave up the one thing that meant anything to her for something that lasted not nearly as long as she had thought it would. After competing in the Pan Global's and going to the Olympics twice, she mysteriously disappeared from her closest friends. Closer than even family. Until now.
She took the taxi all the way to JFK International Airport and got on the first flight from New York to Los Angelas. From there she rented a white Audi A6 and drove the three hours to Reefside. The trip seemed like a blur to her. All of her thoughts were lost somewhere else. The somewhere else being the danger that lay ahead, seeing the ex-love of her life for the first time in nine years, meeting the new team of Power Rangers; all of it was just jumbled around in her head. Before she even realized it, she was turning on to Valencia Road and up Tommy's driveway.
It was dark, but all of the lights were on in the house. She could tell that most of their old team was already there but she was too nervous to get out of the car yet. She hadn't seen nor spoken to any of them in so long. She knew that going in there would not be pleasant.
"Just breathe," she told herself. She got out, crossed the yard, walked up the front steps, raised her hand to knock, and froze.
"I can't do this," she whispered and dropped her hand. She turned on her heel and walked back to the steps to sit down.
"What is wrong with me," she asked herself. It was a question she didn't need some one to answer for her. Her problem was facing a group of people she hadn't spoken to in so many years that probably still resented her for the "Dear John" letter she sent Tommy not long after she went to Florida. Her other problem was the fact she also cut all of them out of her life without even the slightest explanation and not one of them knew the reasons why and nobody in that house would care to listen to her explain. Especially the man it hurt the most, the man she loved the most, Tommy Oliver.
She sighed and leaned against the porch post. She'd never been so scared in her life. Part of her wanted to turn and leave and forget the urgent phone call she'd gotten at her office today. Yet, she was frozen to the porch. Fear removing her ability to do anything but think.