Disclaimer: Saban owns Power Rangers and all relevant characters. Mika Häkkinen is a cameo reference; this is not actorfic. Any fictional elements/persons not canon to the Power Rangers Unvierse are my own creations and belong to me. Use them only with my permission, please. This story is purely non-profit and is not to be sold.

A Euro-Trip I'll Never Forget
Prologue
by MegaSilver

As soon as the flash went off, Tommy Oliver shook hands with the man who had just posed with him and his wife. "Thanks so much, Mr. Häkkinen!" he exclaimed graciously as his wife recovered the Polaroid camera from their casual photographer.

"Oh, you're welcome!" assured Mika Häkkinen, the winner of the Formula One race they had watched that day.

"Okay!" exclaimed Katherine Oliver as she trotted back over to the pair with her camera and the photo. "It came out perfect."

As Mika signed the photo, Tommy couldn't help but notice the near perfect coordination before him: Katherine and Mika had exactly the same eye, skin and hair color.

Perhaps she has some Finnish ancestry she hasn't told me about, he thought. Whatever. He'd better be gentlemanly enough to only treat her like a sister at the cocktail party tonight. Tommy chuckled off the thought. Katherine Oliver, née Katherine Hillard, his wife, his most altruistic admirer. And he, her husband, a fourth-degree black belt. How could he let himself worry about anyone hitting on her?

"Well, good luck to you and your uncle," bade Mika. "Oh! I forgot. I'll see you at the cocktail tonight!"

"Bye!" called the Olivers.


Tommy and Katherine soaked up the fresh Mediterranean air and sun near the harbor at the foot of the Monaco circuit. The weather was nice and mild, not too cloudy, not so warm as to make one really want to sprawl out on the beaches nearby, but quite fitting for a late mid-May afternoon in southern central Europe.

"So, Tommy," said Katherine, "what do you think?"

"Hmm?" Tommy looked up abruptly, a bit startled.

"I mean, the race? Does it…" Katherine swallowed. She looked like she felt a bit guilty for what she had brought up.

"Does it what?" Tommy thought he might know what it was.

Katherine blinked. "Never mind."

"No, tell me."

"Does it… make you wish you could be in there racing?" Katherine grimaced.

Tommy sighed. Yes, just as I'd thought. "I don't know. Kind of. A little." He took a deep breath. "But if I had to choose, watch the Grand Prix with Katherine Hillard-turned-Mrs. Oliver or race in the Grand Prix and…" He hesitated. Now he was the one being insensitive. Katherine was his wife. How could he even bring up a hypothetical situation without her there beside him?

"Aww man, Kat, I'm just happy I could be here with you." Tommy placed an arm around Katherine and pulled her close. And he spoke the truth. He wouldn't let himself regret this choice: it was what they had wanted, what he had wanted.

Katherine hadn't asked him to come to England with her. She had only asked him what he would think if she were away for a while.

That fateful day in August 1997, Tommy had uttered the words to a promise he could never keep: "I'll wait for you."

"I'll come back to you," Katherine had promised back.

They had made it a point to say so, as though they were both afraid that not to say it would have meant a sure end. Indeed, history suggested such fears were well grounded. When Kimberly had gone off to Florida, Tommy had never even discussed with her what the long distance might mean to their relationship. They had only promised to talk on the phone twice a week.

Both Tommy and Kimberly had changed so much, matured so much, together, as Power Rangers. But they had overlooked commitment to one another and just taken it for granted, as though their commitment to the Power Rangers were enough. They had never even thought about life together without the Power. Of course, once Tommy was still a Ranger and Kimberly no longer was, with the two of them a whole continent apart, everything was thrown up in the air.

At least, that was the only plausible explanation Tommy would allow for why Kimberly would ever have let herself fall for another man.

But he wasn't going to let that happen again. He knew Katherine genuinely admired him and always had. Suddenly, with Kimberly out of his life, he'd felt so vulnerable and alone as team leader. He hadn't known how he would fare. But Katherine had been there beside him, more than he could ever have imagined she could be… and then Jason had come back. Katherine and then Katherine and Jason had really made his duties manageable those difficult months.

He couldn't let that go. Kimberly had been so special to him and he'd lost her. Katherine was so precious now, and he'd known he could never find another like her.

So he had promised to wait. He had waited after she left in mid-October. He had spent two torturous months waiting until Katherine had come back to Angel Grove for Christmas.

And when he'd seen her off at the airport just a few swift days later, he could bear the thought of her parting again no longer. Right there in the terminal he'd proposed to her. He'd already bought the ring, even. Katherine had been totally shocked.

"I bought it to remind myself to wait," he told her as she admired the elegant yet unpretentious octagonally-cut diamond set in the purest gold fit for jewellery. "But I can't wait any longer, Kat."

"Tommy, I—what will we do if we—"

"Kat." Tommy cupped his hand and brushed back a strand of his girlfriend's hair. "I want to go to England with you. I know I can't today, but I want to go there as soon as I can and stay with you. Forever."

"But… but, your uncle! The racing track. You've been talking about going professional and—"

"It doesn't matter!" Tommy breathed. "Kat, in just a few minutes you'll be going back out of the country. Jason's moving to Texas in two months. And me… I know I have my uncle and David and my family and my other cousins down in L.A. county, but… you and Jase, you got me through so much stuff they can't understand. And Jase was just barely getting me through two months without you. Now another four months without you… Kat, no. There was a time in my life I could have done anything alone; I did my Karate alone from the time I was six up until I met Jason in 1993. But now I know what it's like to have people in my life and if I have to do this Formula One thing alone, I just don't want it. My family's past and present. My future…"

Tommy trailed off, seeing the tears well up in his girlfriend's eyes. "Tommy…" Katherine said slowly. "Whenever I was in danger you always came right by my side. Sometimes I have to walk home at night in London and when I see what's going on around me I think that in a moment I'm going to be in danger all over again. And I imagine, what will I do? and I think, immediately, I'll cry for you, but you won't come… because… you can't." She sniffed. "I'm trying to be strong; I'm trying to be brave."

"You are, Kat! Kat, look at me. I'm trying. If I can't be strong alone I don't want to make you do it."

"I don't want you to give up your dream, Tommy…"

"Katherine, every since I became a Ranger I've only had one dream, and it's to be with the people I love."

"… but I want you to be there with me… if you want."

"So, Katherine, what do you say, then? Will you marry me?"

"Yes!"

There was nothing else he could have done. Of course, attending the Monaco Grand Prix now only served as a stark reminder that Katherine was living out her dream and Tommy had given up one. He reminded himself that the Formula One wasn't that important of a dream, anyway.

That wasn't what really bothered Tommy, though. Actually, he wasn't really bothered at all. Not right now. But in a few days, their nice little holiday would be up, Tommy would be back at work at the martial arts studio where he taught in East End London and just a couple of days later Katherine would be off for a two-day performance in Scotland.

Now, in his arms, Katherine piped up. "Have you ever thought about going back to it?"

"Hmm?" Tommy had been so deep in his thoughts that it no longer registered what exactly Katherine was referring to by "it."

"I mean, racing. You know… you could spend some time out on the tracks in Outer London… if…"

"Aww, man." Tommy sighed again. "It'd be nice, I guess, but… if I spent that much time out there I wouldn't have much time to teach classes… then I'd be spending a ton of money with none coming in, I'd have to see if Dad or Uncle John could help us and…" He trailed off.

Katherine sighed herself. "You're right."

"Plus, if… we want children before…"

"We will, Tommy," said Katherine, but her tone and her expression suggested she was a bit anxious herself.

They were only twenty years old. Why should there be any worry?

Still, they had been living this way in London for a year. Katherine had successfully completed her first professional audition just a month ago, but the wages were certainly not what they were for movie stars and standard maternity leave policy for performers in her company was not particularly generous and it would be some time before she could get the clout to negotiate for a decent package. The way they were going, Tommy couldn't see the means for larger accommodations coming anytime soon in terms of raises or promotions, certainly not given the meager amount they were saving. Tommy knew he ought to think about setting up his own Karate studio, but that took time and would be expensive—certainly more so in London than it would have been in Angel Grove. Plus, they didn't have family or close friends nearby to count on for support and help throughout the wonderful adventure of raising children.

So, one year of marriage had gone by and they just didn't see themselves as having advanced that far at all down the road to having children. How was it, Tommy wondered, that they were using all the consumer products one would expect to need for a successful family planning scheme… and yet he felt as though they had no control over the planning of any it all?

But he didn't want to think about that right now. Right now, he was here with Katherine, the woman he loved, thanks to his Uncle John, who loved them and who had arranged for them not only to be able to stay in central Monaco during the 1999 Grand Prix and watch a sport that Tommy loved but also to get admitted to all sorts of flashy backstage events.

Such as the celebratory riders' cocktail party tonight. Tommy checked his watch, knocked lightly on his wife's head, and smiled. "Hey, Duchess," he said, using his pet name for Katherine—she always seemed to him so elegant and aristocratic in her grand, graceful poises. "Want to head back and get ready for the party?"


Kimberly arrived at the Saint Lawrence Gymnastics Center at exactly 6:58 AM on Monday, 7 July 1999 and promptly sat down in one of the rubbery chairs outside her coach Gunthar Schmidt's office. Coach Schmidt, for his part, arrived exactly two minutes later—right on time for their meeting, as always. They greeted each other warmly and marched straight into his office.

"I was quite proud of you last week," remarked Coach Schmidt as soon as they were seated. "All of you girls performed very well in Guadalajara—and without you, we could never have won the bronze medal in the team competition."

Kimberly smiled, a little embarrassed. However, what Coach Schmidt said was not false: she was the only girl on the team to have medalled in an individual event at the Pan Global Games in Mexico: she had won silver on the beam. Her good friends Cindy McClintock and Marlene Cristiano had, unfortunately, not medalled: Marlene, in fact, had not made it to the finals. However, the three were happy that they had at least been able to go to the games all together.

All the same, she knew this round had been something of a disappointment for Coach Schmidt. In 1995, the U.S. had managed to bring home at least two gold medals from the Pan Global Games—a decent showing, though not quite as impressive as the U.S. Olympic Gymnastics record since the fall of the Iron Curtain. In fact, the Eastern Europeans still had a pretty noticeable upper hand at the Pan Globals.

Coach Schmidt, for his part, was East German and had competed in the 1964 and 1968 East Germany Olympics team, netting two silvers and one gold. He had emigrated to the U.S. in 1991, dreaming of sending to the American Olympic Gymnastics team athletes with the sort of legendary grace and poise that had earned Soviet and other Eastern Bloc gymnasts under Communism the epithet "beautiful"—and in this way, continue the glorious legacy of his compatriots and citizens of his neighboring countries.

Indeed, throughout these past three years, Kimberly had been amazed how much, some days, her training with Coach Schmidt had seemed to consist almost as much of ballet and theatre as of gymnastics skills, strength and flex.

It had seemed especially odd in view of his otherwise matter-of-fact, no-frills personality, which he now projected as he looked Kimberly straight in the eye. "I kept it a secret, but Larissa Rustakov was there for all our games."

Kimberly's jaw went slack. Quickly she regained composure and snapped it shut. "Larissa—I'm guessing you mean… the Larissa Rustakov?" Larissa Rustakov, Ukranian legend: thrice Soviet Olympic gold medallist; twice Olympic silver medallist, once Olympic bronze medalist.

"Yes. I first met her back in 1968; that was my last Olympics and her first. She received permission to retire from competition after the 1980 games and kept a low profile thereafter. She coached children's gymnastics in Kiev until late last year, when she was invited to begin working for the U.S. Gymnastics National Team Center in Huntsville, Texas. Not many people are aware, but she'll be back in the international spotlight very soon.

"She spoke… very favorably of you, in particular, Kimberly. She said there were few Americans who could execute the synthesis of artistic and physical techniques as you had, and she was sure that with proper rigorous training you could easily qualify for the finals in Sydney 2000—if not medal."

Kimberly covered her mouth. This was exactly what she had been hoping would happen for so many years. Now it was really happening…

"They want to receive you in Texas as soon as possible to make arrangements. But you need to know it is a very different world. Larissa did the same sort of dance-gymnastics we've done with you here and she likes that, but she works for the American Olympic Committee now and she'll be following their program—more mechanical, more technical. And you'll be even more cloistered there than you have been here.

"I know it is a change, but we knew it might come."

Yes, they had talked about that possibility back in 1996. But the thing was, Kimberly hadn't thought about it since then. All her energy she'd been focusing into the Pan Global Games, into her technique, being the best she could be and thinking about where she'd end up in terms of what she would be physically able to execute on the floor, vault, beams or bars… not thinking about consequentially where she would end up in general as a result.

How could she have? After all, she had come to Florida to train for gymnastics and suddenly a new life had opened itself to her right there: a very adventurous and attentive boyfriend, Brendan O'Driscoll, and some very dear new friends. She was really busy in gymnastics, but the moments she had outside gymnastics, her life appeared pretty well made. The whole rest of the world hadn't really factored in…

Coach Schmidt seemed to read her mind. "A lot will change, even here, you know. Most of the girls your age and older won't continue. Maybe one or two, but it will be harder for them to go further. And if you stayed with me, I could help you get to the gold at the Pan Global Games in 2002, but if you want to go to the Olympics, you need to be close to them."

Kimberly took a deep breath. "It's all just so much all at once…"

"I know. And… I know you got a scholarship to Florida Atlantic University for this fall. There is more than one way for you to move forward. If you continue with gymnastics, you will be someone great. Maybe not as recognized as great gymnasts were in Eastern Europe in their time, but certainly great to all those who understand what this sport is about—and to your country, as well, should you win. There is something to be said for greatness all by itself. And you may get an even better scholarship elsewhere: USC, for example; Stanford, Ivy Leagues, even…"

Kimberly's eyes went wide. USC? Los Angeles? Right back near Angel Grove? No way. She couldn't. No way she could turn things back that way. But… Harvard? Princeton?

He's got to be joking. What would I be doing at Harvard?

"Listen: I know you sacrificed everything you knew in California to come here. But you sacrificed it for gymnastics, not for Florida. Life changes all the time, everywhere, and it will change here, as well. Your life may change in many ways, in many different places. Or, you can put your roots down here, or anywhere else, starting now. It is up to you. I understand next week you're leaving to see your mother in Paris. Take your holiday, relax, celebrate your medals with your family and make a decision when you come back."

Kimberly nodded. "You're right."

"I won't lie: I think you should go to Texas. But that's speaking as a gymnast. I know you quite well, Kimberly, but I've always had the feeling there was a bit more to you that you didn't really show, and I could never figure out whether it was gymnastics or something else. Perhaps that will be the deciding factor for you. Whatever it is, it will be your decision. I will understand, and I will not think any less of you for it. But you should know that if you quit now, you may not be able to come back."

"Right." Kimberly stood up. "Lot of thinking to do."

"Are you practicing today?"

"Of course!" Kimberly grinned. "I'm not leaving for four days and it's kind of hot to go outside; might as well, huh? Besides… if I do end up going to Texas I'll need to have put in as many hours as I can."

Coach Schmidt smiled. "I know you will make a most excellent Olympian, Kimberly."


The tiny rental car ground to a sudden halt on the winding country road as a farmer led his heard of cattle from one green patch to the other across the strip of grey, unyielding pavement that dared to cut through the beautiful emerald landscape. Not that the land was any less relentless: bogs, hills and other obstacles did their best to ensure that the modernizer would have it as rough as possible. Even so, it was a beautiful place, and Kimberly Hart could not keep her eyes off it.

"Shite," she heard her boyfriend mutter under his breath. Brendan was not the type to swear with the frequency of most of his compatriots—or at least that was the façade he presented to his American girlfriend. She supposed she should excuse him for feeling a little bit more at home—they were in Ireland, after all, in his fatherland.

Kimberly finished surveying this frame of the country and averted her eyes to Brendan. "I swear I've seen five cows at least every thousand feet."

"Staple of this country, they are," Brendan explained, nodding. "And ye, the Yanks, the breadbasket of the world. Youse make the bread. We make the butter."

Slapping her forehead, Kimberly began chucking. "Oh, my gosh, just, like, smile and say 'cheese'!" She lightly pinched his abdomen.

He jerked, obviously tickled, but then stared at her with a mischievous smile as the last cow crossed the road. "You said, 'cheese.'"

"So?"

"So, that's a dairy product."

That was too much. Kimberly rolled her eyes and swatted his arm as the car began to lurch forward. "Too late to jump out."

"You wouldn't!" Brendan taunted.

Of course he was right, but she wouldn't say so. She had to tease him a bit more. "What's gotten into you? Most days I actually laugh at your sense of humor."

"Kim, all you've got to do's hear me talk and you laugh," Brendan corrected.

"That's not true!" Kimberly protested, barely holding back a chuckle. "Okay, so sometimes you make a turn of phrase that I don't know happens to be perfectly natural to you and so I think I'm laughing with you. But I've gotten a lot better. Besides… you've got a cute accent."

"Ach, come on. All you like me for's me accent." Brendan was obviously trying to joke—or "slag," as he would say—but he was obviously touched and his pale cheeks flushing quite a bit at that remark, as though he were uncomfortable with the compliment.

After two and a half years together, he was still blushing at Kimberly's compliments! But it was true that, for an item of their longevity, they didn't exactly see each other very often.

Or maybe that was the key to their longevity. They were, after all, still so young. They had met in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida during Kimberly's senior year of high school—she a competitive gymnast, he an immigrant bartender a few years older and taking a few community college classes.

Both of them were energetic and determined in ways that seemed to complement each other well, but their drive meant that, for the time being, their moments together were somewhat rarer than the typical young couple's, and this hadn't stopped following her senior year. Kimberly had begun taking community college courses as she had continued to train for gymnastics, and while she could count on plenty of monetary support from her father and grandparents, Brendan was on his own and continued to work mostly nights and weekends as a managing bartender at O'Brien's Pub. Finally, last summer as well as the previous one, Kimberly's mother had guilt-tripped her into staying in or near Paris for at least six weeks. Kimberly had only gotten out of a long visit this summer as a special grace thanks to the enormous pressure and exhaustion from her Pan Global competition

This had gone on for two and a half years, and the relationship somehow stayed alive, always set down rather than set aside. Still, Kimberly couldn't help but feeling that she missed out, or that things were progressing more slowly than they ought. Especially right now. She had only mentioned the Texas thing once in passing before they'd left Florida, and now they'd just landed at Shannon Airport and were only fifteen minutes away from the castle. There was no way she could bring it up now.

She knew, of course, that there was a virtue to taking things easy: it kept them well behaved, and it helped them to build things up before they actually started thinking about a life together, if they got to that stage. Brendan earned pretty decent money doing what he did and put it to pretty efficient use.

Plus, the relative rarity of their excursions made her cherish them all that much more—especially since Brendan always packed them with as much action as he could. How many other undergraduate pairs in America could say their quality time was a nice two-week excursion across northwestern Europe?

It sounded a bit more glamorous than it actually was. Before flying into Ireland, they'd stayed with Kimberly's family in France a week—and boy, had that been interesting, five people cooped up in a two-bedroom Parisian apartment near Montparnasse during the summertime. Of course they had spent their days out on the town and they had gone up to a bed and breakfast in Picardy over the weekend, but Kimberly had had the feeling her stepfather and her brother were glad to be rid of the extra warm bodies and have some space. In all honesty Kimberly had found the departure something of a relief herself. It wasn't that hot in Paris, at any rate certainly not as hot or as humid as it was in Florida, but without air conditioning it was just a tad rough in mid-July.

Moreover, Kimberly had the vague impression that Brendan was a mite uncomfortable about being a guest in the home of a divorced and remarried woman—and further, a Catholic who had remarried outside the Church without an annulment. Neither the devout Brendan nor Kimberly's observant grandparents had ever made a big deal out of the issue, but Kimberly had only really become conscious of the potential implications of her mother's marital status over the past year. Kimberly herself wasn't really a consistently practicing Catholic, though she did seem to find herself at Sunday Mass more and more often these days.

And now they were headed to a castle outside of Galway for Brendan's mother's family reunion, a place with lots of space and many, many devout Catholics. These respective qualities would make the situation more comfortable for respectively Kimberly and Brendan, Kimberly had to think.

Plus, with all the space, they could talk more about Texas, right?

One had to look on the bright side. They were young; they were on holiday; they were in Europe. This would definitely be a voyage never to forget.

TO BE CONTINUED…