Title: A Proper Thank You
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Dillon/Ziggy (pre-slash)
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respectful owners, I'm just borrowing them for a bit.
A/N: They never showed if Ziggy thanked Dillon for getting him out of the prison (or did I just miss it?), so it got me thinking. Hence, the fic.
***
A Proper Thank You
"This must have been the most boring day in the history of Corinth, ever," Ziggy grumbled. He tossed the pool stick on the table, even though he was only halfway through the game, and slouched towards the couch. He sat sideways on the armrest and looked around the room, but since no one seemed to have paid any attention to what he was saying, he let himself fall on the sofa with a huff.
It had definitely been a strangely peaceful day, but unlike Ziggy, the other rangers had welcomed the change of pace. After all the recent events, they were more than glad to go through a day without having to fight any Grinders and instead, they had quickly found other things to occupy their time with. But Ziggy had only joined their ranks as the Green Ranger a few days ago and frankly, he had thought there was more to it than hanging around a garage, waiting for the inevitable emergency call.
"Don't you guys ever do anything fun?" he said, staring at the ceiling moodily.
"Fun? You mean being a ranger ain't fun enough for you?" Ziggy heard Scott's voice coming from the other side of the garage where the Red Ranger was going through his glove box collection of CDs. The layer of sarcasm didn't go unnoticed by Ziggy, but he was in a mood for an argument.
"I mean fun like, like going to the beach! Or throwing a party? Or something like that, you know, fun stuff," he went on, though without much enthusiasm.
"Oh, we do that stuff too, just, not today, okay?" Summer called from outside the garage. "Just relax, Ziggy," she said and by the sound of it, she was still working on washing her motorcycle.
Ziggy crossed his arms and continued to stare holes at the ceiling. He'd spent the day trying to make himself useful, but everyone seemed too preoccupied to give him the time of their day. He'd offered to help Flynn in the kitchen, but the Scotsman had assured Ziggy that he could handle everything by himself. (Although, maybe that had more to do with Ziggy's idea that peanut butter was an essential part of every meal than anything else.) Scott and Summer had both been working on their vehicles the whole day and since Dr. K had been holed up in her research chamber since last evening, there was no one to keep him company.
Well, expect Dillon, but he didn't count.
The Green Ranger was just contemplating whether it was possible to die from sheer boredom when the crackle of the radio system brought him back to the reality. "Ranger operator series Red, Blue and Yellow, please report to the operating chamber immediately," Dr. K's familiar matter-of-fact voice called through the speakers.
"Oh, finally!" Ziggy sprung up from the sofa and was halfway through the room before the others had barely even reacted to the call.
"This does not include you, Ranger Green," the doctor added sharply, as if she had seen this one coming from miles away.
Ziggy stopped like he had suddenly hit an invisible wall. "Oh, come on!" the young ranger exclaimed, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "You've got to be kidding me!"
"Sorry, mate, but that's just how it goes." Flynn had appeared from the kitchen wiping his hands and he gave Ziggy a pat on the back as he passed him by. The other two quickly followed him, leaving Ziggy to fume by himself.
A few moments later, the trio emerged from the briefing and headed straight to their vehicles. Summer flashed him an apologetic smile as she rushed by him. "Sorry, no time for explanations," she said, unaware that Scott was miming action sequences behind her back, indicating that the three were probably heading out to clean up some Grinders. Ziggy wondered if Scott would have been half as pleased with the routine mission if he wasn't being left out.
The garage felt deserted after the three had stormed off. Ziggy went through his options, but in the end, what was the point? If they didn't want him on a mission, they didn't want him, and that was it. He'd only get in their way if he forced himself in. Ziggy gave a resigned sigh and slumped back on the sofa.
A chink of metal and a grunt broke through the gloomy silence of the garage. Dillon had joined Summer and Scott in using the free time to repair his car, but other than being present, he hadn't participated in the conversation. It was clear that he didn't care much for socializing, so the rest of the team had left him alone. Ziggy listened to the sounds coming from the shop side of the garage and slowly, he felt the feeling of hopelessness pass.
Ziggy's strategy had been that the less he bothered Dillon, the less chance he had to screw up the budding friendship. It wasn't that he was afraid of Dillon getting mad at him or anything like that, he just wasn't quite sure where they stood with each other. Ziggy was used to people treating him like some annoying kid and ignoring him to their best abilities, but somehow he got the impression that Dillon actually wanted to spend time with him (or at least he didn't seem to mind Ziggy's company as much as the others), and that was what was throwing him off.
He made a decision, nodding as if he needed to confirm it to himself, and pushed himself up from the couch.
"Hey, Dillon," he said, settling beside the front of the worn car. He was careful not to touch the wretched looking vehicle, just so he didn't accidentally make it worse. Ziggy could only see the lower half of Dillon, the rest of him was hidden beneath the car, and talking to his legs alone made Ziggy feel even more uncertain than he already was. "Uh, you need a hand with anything?" he asked, his voice slightly higher than normal.
There was a pause in the sound of mechanics and then the rest of Dillon appeared from under the car. There was a few smudges of grease on his face and bare arms, but that only seemed to make the cocky smile on his lips look more striking. He looked up and down the younger man and raised his eyebrow as if to say there was no way he would let Ziggy anywhere near his car, especially armed with a wrench.
But instead of saying as much, he just nodded and pointed toward the open tool kit next to the wall. "Sure, you can start by getting me a pair of flat nose pliers and a 1/4 hex key."
Ziggy's face brightened instantly and he jolted toward the tool box like a kid to a candy store even before Dillon had finished his request. But when he saw the mess inside the kit and realized he had no idea what he was even looking for, his face fell. "Uh," he started, but Dillon's voice interrupted him.
"Get the pliers with straight and flat sides, not the sharp ones, those are for cutting wire, and there should be a red plastic pack of hex keys with a size chart," came the much needed explanation. "If you're having trouble finding them, that is," Dillon couldn't help adding.
After a moment of puzzling over the hex chart, the young ranger found the required tools and delivered them to Dillon, who had been following his progress still lying on his back on a creeper. He seemed to be highly amused by Ziggy's apparent lack of experience with anything mechanic. "Thanks," he said and flashed a smile at Ziggy before disappearing back under the car.
They continued this routine for a while. Dillon didn't talk much besides giving him orders and errands to run, and after a few moments of nervous chattering, Ziggy fell silent as well. He realized that, much to his surprise, he was actually enjoying the quiet work. The silence between them felt natural, so he didn't feel forced to fill it with pointless conversation.
After an hour or so, Ziggy fetched them both a can of soda from the kitchen. He handed one to Dillon, who had finished whatever it was he had been fixing under the car and was now leaning over the open hood, staring at the engine with his brows knitted in thought.
"So, you're not at all pissed that they didn't include us in today's mission, huh?" Ziggy broke the silence, popping open his can and taking a swig from it. Dillon looked up, surprised by the sudden question.
"Nope, not really," he replied, but instead of focusing back on the motor, he kept his dark eyes on Ziggy.
The younger man kept his gaze at the soda can, ignoring the look Dillon was giving him. He tapped his foot, suddenly feeling anxious again. "I mean, it's not like I even like fighting or anything, I just, well, I guess I wanted to prove them I'm a good ranger and not just some failure," he blurted out suddenly, glancing at the other guy from the corner of his eye before returning his stare to his hands. Small drops of condensation were sliding along the cool side of the can, gathering into little pools of moisture between Ziggy's lean fingers. He heard Dillon let out a deep sigh. He was half-expecting the other man to ignore him and continue with the repairs like nothing had happened.
"Ziggy, you're a good ranger, trust me," he heard Dillon saying. "They'll come around, you'll see. Just give them some time to see what you're made of," Dillon continued and to Ziggy's surprise, he felt an awkward, but encouraging hand squeeze his shoulder for a moment.
The young man felt a smile touch his lips. "But what if they don't? Maybe I'm too awesome for them to realize how awesome I am?" Ziggy added, but he was only half serious this time.
"Well, they can always take you back to the prison if you don't behave," Dillon replied. His voice was so deadpan that Ziggy had to turn around to see his face to know he was actually kidding.
"Ha ha, very funny," he said and made a face as the other man broke into a wide grin.
But Dillon's words had reminded Ziggy of something he had been wondering about ever since he'd been let out of the prison. "Uh, now that you mention it, I've been meaning to ask you something," he started, glancing again over his shoulder at the other man. Dillon was now kneeling by the wall, rummaging around the tool kit.
"What is it?" Dillon asked, without turning around.
"Why'd you get me out of the prison? I mean, of course I'm grateful and all that, but… why?"
Dillon didn't say anything, just continued browsing the contents of the tool box until finally he appeared to have found what he was looking for and stood up holding a wrench. "I guess because I wanted to?" he finally said, turning around and spreading his arms. He was frowning for a moment, as if he had realized something he hadn't noticed before. Then he shrugged and walked back to the car, leaning back over the engine and starting to go through the bolts with the wrench. He had tightened almost all of them before he spoke again. "It was mostly my fault you were there in the first place, anyway, so I couldn't just leave you there," Dillon added without looking at him.
Ziggy suddenly felt like he had been anxious over nothing. Of course, Dillon could have left him to rot in the prison just as easily, but instead, he had chosen to help Ziggy.
"Thanks," Ziggy mumbled, letting his shaggy mop of hair fall to his face to hide the emotion in his eyes. "It was a nice thing to do and it's been a while since anyone has done anything nice to me, so… thanks, Dillon."
"You're welcome," Dillon said after a moment of silence.
Suddenly, he stood up and slammed the hood of the car shut, making Ziggy jump with surprise. The Black Ranger threw the wrench up in the air, sending it spinning in quick, neat circles, and then he caught it in a flash when it came back down. He turned to look in Ziggy's bewildered eyes and gave him his widest grin. "Now, I remember you saying something about fun? Let's take this baby out for a test drive."
Ziggy recovered from the surprise in record time. "Alright, let's do it!" He started clearing off the remaining tools, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Yo, Doc, we're heading out!" Dillon called, kicking the creeper and sending it sliding towards the wall. He didn't wait for a reply before jumping into the driver's seat and Ziggy followed him quickly.
"You ready?" Dillon asked, turning his head to give Ziggy a quick once-over at the same time as he reached for the ignition key.
Ziggy buckled his seatbelt and settled himself on the shotgun seat. Then he smirked and turned to look straight into Dillon's eyes. "Ready when you are," he said and grinned. Now this was going to be fun.
//end.