Title: Incomplete
Author: Sierra Crane
Rated: PG-13 (may go higher)
Summary: Alex Drake and Jen Scotts ended their relationship under bad terms a year ago, but now they must reunite to bring in an old enemy. Will their past together effect their ability to function as a team in a bad way, or will they grow closer?
Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers, nor do I own the song at the beginning, "Incomplete" by the Backstreet Boys.
A/N: While this will be a chapter story, the chapters will probably come slowly as I'm currently on deployment and might not have access to Internet often. So please be patient. Also, first chapter is short, but the ones following should be longer.
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Empty spaces fill me up with holes
Distant faces with no place left to go
Without you within me I can't find no rest
Where I'm going is anybody's guess . . .
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Alex Drake rose early in the morning, as was his usual routine, and showered quickly before heading out to grab breakfast at the local cafe; the morning was cool, a gentle breeze flew through the quiet Silver City as he walked down the sidewalk, his arms swinging loosely at his sides. It was early April, his favorite time of year, the heat hadn't set in yet so the day was comfortable, even in the restrictive Time Force uniform; he entered the cafe, flashing a smile at the pretty waitress before sitting at the counter.
"What'll it be this morning, sir?" she asked, politely, pulling out her recorder.
"I'd like some coffee to start out with---no cream or sugar, please."
"Sure."
He relaxed back in the chair, glancing absently at his watch and noting the time: 5:58 a.m., still an hour till his shift began over at HQ; at that thought, he scowled slightly, still bitter about his new job behind a desk, he had been assigned there after his injuries, in hopes he could return to active duty upon his recovery, but that time had come and gone. Seemed like an entirely different life when he had proudly worn the Red Chrono Morpher and patrolled the dangerous streets, searching for Ransik and his gang of mutants; of course, that was also before the criminal mutant had been taken into custody by the other Rangers over a year ago, there hadn't been much action since then.
And what are you complaining about? he scolded himself, you fight for something for years and then you complain when you finally get it. He smirked: Peace is overrated.
Nodding his thanks to the waitress, he took the offered coffee and sipped it's hot contents, savoring the warmth and feeling himself waking up even further, even his senses seemed more alert after downing the liquid; he ate his food quietly, paid, then went back outside and began his journey to the large building holding Time Force Headquarters. The walk was around two miles, one he enjoyed every morning to stretch his sore muscles and get a chance to breathe in the fresh air; there were days when he worked out vigorously, running up to six miles and spending two hours in a gym, but that was when he had time. Now I'm too busy signing forms to do anything like that. Again, the bitterness crept up, but he didn't suppress it; once, he was the best officer in the Force, top in scores and number of mutants captured, now he had been reduced to something he had always despised, a paper-pusher.
"Ahh, Alex," Captain Robin Logan greeted him as he entered, "glad to see you're here early, we have a lot of things to sort through today. Seems . . . "
His words barely registered in Alex's mind as he went on to his office and settled behind his desk, going through the stack of papers that had accumulated throughout the night; Logan continued to speak, finishing with a sharp: "You understand?"
He looked up. "Yes . . . I'll, uh, I'll get right on it."
"Good."
Alex watched him leave, reflecting on a time when he was the Captain's surbordinate, following his orders . . . at least one good thing had come out of the whole Ransik incident, he had been given a promotion, risen up in rank faster than anyone else his age. Still, if they would given him that morpher back, he would gladly relinquish his Major rank and return to a simple Lieutenant.
No use dwelling on it now.
He worked alone for a few hours, breaking for lunch at noon and returning just before one o'clock, he returned to find a recorder placed on his desk, the red light blinking to indicate a message left; he glared at it suspiciously, wondering if he should take it or report it, one could never be too cautious as a high-ranking officer in the often-hated Force.
Nevertheless, curiousity got the best of him and he grabbed the recorder, flicking the control to play the message; to his utter surprise, a familiar, feminine voice came out: "Alex, it's me . . . I've been working behind the scenes for the past year and we've recently discovered a renegade from Ransik's old gang. He's forming his own group, and he's dangerous . . . I want your help. Contact me ASAP."
Alex nearly dropped the recorder from the shock, he hadn't heard her voice in over a year, had even dared to think he had forgotten about her . . . but with those simple words, he knew he was wrong, she still burned deep within him, in his heart and mind. Jennifer . . . She had contacted him, which in itself was enough of a surprise, but she also needed his help! Despite everything that had happened between them, their bitter goodbyes, the anger they still shared, nothing else mattered when she uttered "I want your help".
Unhesitantly, but nervously, he traced the signal of the message: Time Force Special Ops HQ. San Francisco, CA. He blinked, Special Ops? Jen, too, had apparently risen in the ranks since her days of chasing Ransik, not that she didn't deserve it, but back when he had known her she had never shown an interest in it, that was something he had always wanted. But never got.
With a discontented sigh, he grabbed his jacket and headed back outside . . .
SAN FRANCISCO
Jen Scotts grunted in pain as she slammed her fist into the bag for the uncountable time, sweat dripping down her face and shoulders, soaking the pink tank-top she wore; it felt good to work out her frustration, to get rid of the tension that had built up since she left that message on her former lover's desk. Would he contact her? If he did, how hostile would their meeting be? Could they, perhaps, be friends after everything that happened? No, she told herself, and I don't want to be either!
She kicked the bag and it flew back, nearly striking the person in front of her, he tossed a glare her way but she ignored him, unconcerned with him, she had bigger problems; with a final punch, she turned away and snatched her towel, wiping off her face, not seeing the man who approached her warily.
"Jennifer?"
She froze, the towel still held up to her face, covering her view . . . she didn't need to see him to recognize him, she would know that voice from anywhere; at last, she lowered the towel and met him face-to-face, saying simply: "Alex."
"I got your message," he explained, "they told me in the office you were here."
"You didn't have to stop by," Jen told him.
He smiled a little. "Anything to get out of that place."
"I see . . . " She felt enormously uncomfortable under his gaze, in her tiny shorts and skin-tight top, her hair piled on top of her head, her cheeks flushed from exertion. "If you'd just give me a moment to clean up, I'll meet you upstairs, okay?"
"Sounds good."
Jen hurried away to the bathroom, grateful for a chance to disappear, she stripped off her sweaty clothes and stepped into the steamy shower; her tense muscles screamed for relaxation, something she rarely gave them anymore. Wistfully, she smiled and remembered her earlier life when she could afford to lay back on any day and allow herself to be pampered . . . by Alex . . . those backrubs, the long and gentle kisses, passionate lovemaking. Certainly not everything about their relationship had been a disaster, although the end of it was one neither could have predicted; anger, betrayal, she recalled with regret the hurt in his eyes as he took the ring she gave back to him after their two year relationship.
That was too long ago to think about. A year and a half, back when she was idealistic and believed true love could win out if she just held on; tears creeping to her eyes, she thought about the reason she left Alex: Wes . . . the man she would always love, but the one she had no hope of seeing again, not that it would matter if she did; she had taken the liberty of looking him up, and found---to her dismay and joy---that he had moved on. With someone else.
She wrapped her fresh towel around her dripping form, wiping down her arms and legs, then tying her wet hair up in a neat bun before changing into her black uniform; she left the room feeling more energized, ready to take on her next assignment: Facing Alex.
And there he was. Standing at the counter, drinking something, his eyes averted and gazing out the window, watching the rain pour and run down the glass; for a moment, Jen watched him, he was still just as handsome as the day she met him almost five years ago, though aged, blue eyes without that old sparkle and face hardened without a smile.
They had both changed.
"Ready?" she said, briskly.
"Of course," Alex replied without a beat, "someplace private?"
"My office."
She led the way, feeling more at ease in her own environment, she shut the door behind Alex, facing him fearlessly; there was silence, then she explained: "It's a robot. He attacked a group of civilians out camping last week, but disappeared before he could be taken in."
"A robot?"
"Yes." Jen looked down at her records. "They described it as yellow . . . large, over six-feet-tall . . . that's really all they could make out before they were injured too badly."
"Yellow and tall . . . " Alex's face darkened.
"I know." She allowed herself a small sigh. "Anyway, I've assembled a team---the other Rangers, some people from SF, and you." She paused. "That is, if you can."
"I'll have to be placed back on active duty," Alex said, "but in this case, I don't think that should be a problem. When do you want to meet?"
"Tomorrow night," Jen answered, watching his reaction, "this is serious. I want to finish it before it even begins."
"Where?"
"The docking bay, I'll have a transport secured."
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
Jen rolled her eyes as she turned to face her friend since childhood, she nodded, trying to reassure the Yellow Ranger: "Yes, I am. Alex is a good officer . . . we may need him."
"Sure, he's good," Katie admitted, "but I wouldn't say he's any better than you. Besides, how're you going to function with him at your side? I know you, Jen, and you're still hurting."
"I am not hurting!" Jen laughed, with no humor, "god, Katie, that was over a year ago. Sure, I'm still a little . . . confused, maybe angry, too. But it will not effect my mission."
Trip Regis looked up from his position at the computer, his fingers flying expertly over the controls, he observed Jen's rigid posture, her tense jaw, and he sensed the emotions coming from her; at his side, Lucas Kendall nudged the young Xybrian. "Not reading anyone's minds, are you?"
"Of course not," Trip replied, "but I can't help sensing some things."
"Well," Lucas whispered, "you don't have to be Xybrian to know this isn't going to be good."
As he spoke, Alex entered the ship and Katie instinctively called the room to attention, he waved them off dismissively, his cheeks flushing a bit at the awkwardness; Jen raised an eyebrow slowly, she hadn't even noticed his new rank, she glanced at her own, silently wishing she could stand up to his.
"How is it going?" Alex asked.
"Good," Jen answered, "we're about to get started. The last sighting was documented three days ago, on Mars, they just set up a new colony there when it attacked."
"So it has space-capable transports?" Alex frowned. "Great."
"We haven't been able to positively identify it yet," Trip added.
"Though we all have our suspicions," Lucas put in.
"Yeah, well," Alex said, "let's try to keep those suspicions in check and remember to be open-minded, okay? We don't know what we're dealing with here. Now . . . set a course for Mars, might as well go to that colony ourselves and check things out."
TBC