A/N: This story is not beta'ed. So any mistakes are my own. There is a lot of tense switching, so if that bothers you, uh... sorry? But otherwise, please join me in my Ninja Storm abyss. I've fallen in and can't get out. Also, fair warning: This story kind of has a lot of heavy references to a few episodes, but specifically Bopp-a-Roo and Toxipod's Island, as well as the events surrounding the Thunder rangers' introduction.

I can't make many promises on an update schedule, but I'll try to at least make them bi-weekly until I've muddled through this. Hope you guys enjoy! (Rating is mostly for swearing [pretty much like... entirely Hunter's fault?], and later some themes of violence.)

Still getting a feel for these characters, hopefully they're not too off the wall as to be unrecognizable. Have fun, readers!

~'~,~'~

It was the heat wave that started it. The heat wave and a brief lapse in Hunter's ironclad control. Before then, Shane had resigned himself to coexisting with the Thunder rangers in battle situations with the occasional spike of paranoia whenever he didn't see both or Hunter got too close to Tori or Dustin's back, or whenever the team ended up stranded in between the pair of them. He'd, at Sensei's insistence, slowly become used to seeing them during training and hearing Blake's (and, on the extra special rare day, Hunter's) voice.

He hadn't actively cared though. Or, no, that wasn't quite true. He'd cared about them – but he'd been careful to keep his arguments on getting the two to join them limited to terms of battle advantages. The numbers helped, the boost in skill helped, and it was an undeniable fact that Shane slept a little bit better knowing that Hunter and Blake weren't rogue outliers easily susceptible to manipulation anymore.

If something went wrong with the trouble brothers, they'd know. No more guessing or being blindsided by friendly teamwork randomly getting switched out for a brutal, painful strike in the side or back. No more power rangers striking it on their own and being twice as vulnerable for it. Definitely less chance of evil rangers all around. Shane hadn't been faking his enthusiasm or his desire for the pair to join, not even a little bit, but he could admit that there had been some adjustments he hadn't been prepared for.

Hunter treating them with three times the suspicion and half the hostility had been one of those things. Call Shane crazy, but he'd sort of figured that fighting the bad guy of the day on the same side for the whole fight might've earned him more than a few gruff critiques and an afternoon of glaring. How Shane could have made such a grave judgment error he'd never know.

Blake had brought his own complications, in that Shane honestly couldn't tell when he was being sincere and when he was just coasting through their meetups. He was definitely outgoing, and in that sense about twenty million times easier to deal with than Hunter, but there was something about just how much forward he put himself that made Shane uneasy.

(Truthfully, he'd only figured that situation out a little before Bopp-a-Roo. Individual training-bonding sessions, mandated by Sensei, had been hell. He'd wished that was an exaggeration, but he'd gotten more bruises sparring with Hunter than he did getting kicked across a warehouse by any other bad guy Shane had faced. Given how their fights before then had gone, Shane probably shouldn't have been surprised by that but – again, excuse him for assuming that 'teammate' somehow equated to 'friend.'

"Let's not get carried away," Blake had said, blindsiding Shane when he'd decided moving was for people who took pain-free bodies for granted and had grumbled some unsavory things under his breath. "We're more like acquaintances."

"And that doesn't strike you as, oh I don't know, a problem?" Shane demanded, trying not to wheeze too audibly. He was in no mood to give either Bradley more ammunition against him today, and even though Hunter had left – possibly to get lectured by Sensei, probably to go home and brood aggressively in the dark corners of his apartment – what one Bradley knew the other was sure to learn quickly. Tori had jokingly called it a hive mind. Dustin had enthusiastically supported the theory. Shane had wasted a few sleepless nights staring uneasily at his morpher until he'd managed to get Cam to thoroughly debunk it.

"Mostly it just feels normal." Blake's smile had been noticeably strained, crouching down somewhere by Shane's shoulder and slowly helping him sit up. Shane couldn't even dredge up irritation at that, dragging a hand down his face.

"Doesn't have to be," he'd sighed. "In fact, it shouldn't be."

"Is that what you're trying to prove, goading Hunter into fighting like this?" Blake had grinned, holding his hands up and catching Shane's wrists when he'd flailed in offense. "Kidding, Shane. Seriously, though, you should consider ice packs." He'd continued, pulling Shane up to his feet.

"He go all out on you, too?" Shane had asked, not expecting an answer. Blake, he'd found, was great at surface-level conversation and deflecting, pulling anyone and everyone he needed to into a discussion to avoid topics that dug a little too deep. Blake hadn't given him an enigmatic smile though, or a cheerfully sarcastic rhetorical question.

"I give as good as I get, Shane," he'd answered. "His fists might have been smaller back then."

"Oh, so it's not just me?"

"It's absolutely just you," Blake had corrected, sizing Shane up with a critical stare. "I don't know if anyone's told you this," he'd continued, in tones that said he knew for a fact no one had told Shane this. "But you're kind of a hard read, and you're definitely annoying."

"Thanks," Shane snorted, wincing a second later at the pressure on his ribs. The pain was already starting to fade, but it would still be a few minutes – and those minutes would not be spent in pleasant pastures. "Also, that's a little rich coming from the guy who hasn't been real since he got here," Shane continued, wincing almost as soon as he'd said it. Blake hadn't seemed offended, though, pausing for a beat before he'd sent Shane another strained smile.

"Did you just call me a poser?"

"You could try to trust me a little more," Shane had sighed, following Blake when the other had started walking.

"So could you," he'd countered. "Facts are, you don't. Which is fine," his hand had lifted, stopping Shane before he could say anything for his defense. Shane had no idea what he would've said, but he did remember Blake looking back at him over his shoulder, a resigned atmosphere overtaking his posture if not his expression.

It was the first time Shane had ever really felt compelled to compare Blake and Hunter and find a similarity. "We don't deserve your trust. We probably never will. If you and Cam are the only ones who never forget that I'm ready to accept that. But let's skip the lecture about being best friends just because we have the same end goal. I'm willing to play the game if you are, but I'm not about to let you trample over us. I like Tori. I like Dustin. Sometimes I even like you. I respect Cam. I respect Sensei. You can stop with the threats."

Which Shane had definitely not seen coming. He hadn't issued out any threats. Definitely none that he could remember. It was the most serious he'd seen Blake in a while though, so he knew this had been building for at least some amount of time. He just wasn't sure how, or why, or if there was yet another Shane-clone situation kind of thing, like the Tori clone thing, like the ranger clone thing, and they'd somehow missed it.

He was – he remembered being startled, and angry, and only a little bit because he was being accused of something so serious. Most of him was outraged that once again the Bradley's were being harassed, and no one had noticed, no one had helped, and hadn't that been one of the driving reasons Shane wanted them around?

"Who's threatening you?" he'd demanded, serious and clipped, the mild bruises completely pushed out of his mind as he'd straightened. "When does this happen? Blake I haven't done anything like that. I wouldn't. How long has-?"

"Are you serious?" Blake had frowned, arms crossed and leaning back. "You literally did it five hours ago in Ninja Ops." Shane frowned, drawing up a blank. He'd remembered everyone being there, clasping Blake's arm and slinging his arm over Dustin's shoulders, but there hadn't been any threats. There hadn't even been any doom and gloom glares being thrown around. Blake must have noticed, because his frown had only gotten more severe. "What do you think you're doing when you put your arm over my shoulders?"

"Wait- what?"

"No one else gets in my space like you do."

"Dustin does," Shane argued. It was a fact. Dustin ignored personal space for everyone – his real-life superpower was the fact he could get away with it unscathed.

"Dustin does," Blake had agreed, unmoving. "You're not Dustin."

"So you think I'm sketchy because I, what, touch you?" Shane had asked, trying to wrap his head around the concept. Was it even possible to be that paranoid? Apparently. Cam had never had a problem enforcing physical space, and Hunter wasn't someone that even understood the word casual, but Blake hadn't been like that.

He hadn't even realized it bothered the younger ranger. He certainly hadn't thought it could be so horribly mistaken for a threat. Did he think Shane was threatening Tori and Dustin every time he touched them, too? But no, there had to be lines, because he could differentiate from Dustin touching him in the same way. So was it really just Shane? Why? "Dude where have you been living?"

"Lothor's ship," Blake had answered simply, cutting through and leaving Shane frozen and chilled. And, yeah, he could see how that would not be a great place for – but that didn't make up the entirety of their lives. "And before that, a ninja academy."

And – yeah, Dustin was definitely the ninja exception, not the rule, in a place where every bit of movement and space was observed and controlled and contained. Casual touching wasn't forbidden or anything like that, but contact outside of sparring was scrutinized by everyone within eyesight, and there was a reason that most of Shane's more comforting gestures toward Tori and Dustin had been done safely outside of the academy's walls.

"I didn't mean to threaten you," Shane had started, emotions mixing up in a mess that demanded he apologize now and figure out the implications later. "I never would've, that's not how I," he tried, fingers twitching, and then he'd had to reel himself back before he made it worse, made the same mistake again. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think- that's not what,"

"I'm getting that," Blake had interrupted, the hard stance easing back, lessening in the face of Shane's special brand of awkward apology. He looked more confused, definitely more open, and a little bit rueful when he'd rubbed the back of his neck. "You don't have to apologize. I guess it does seem… kind of weird."

"I think I do," Shane had said, knowing it was the truth. "I owe you that apology. You and Hunter." The right thing to say, even when Blake had looked surprised and then relaxed, almost smiling at him.)

He'd had plans to do just that. Reality, however, made that a little more difficult. In that Hunter was allergic to heart to hearts and his reaction favored aggressively defensive.

But then Bopp-a-Roo had happened. He'd finally kind of sort of gotten somewhere with Hunter, awkward and quiet but almost painfully sincere when he'd explained that it had always been just him and Blake; Hunter had almost accepted it, accepted Shane when he'd said that wasn't true anymore. The team was there for them. They watched each other's backs.

Shane had worked hard for that moment damn it. He'd worked hard to make sure his words didn't end up being another lie. It had even paid off, Blake settling and goading Hunter into interactions in his own special way. Hunter making the effort to meet Shane half-way. The setbacks all stemmed from competition, conflict, but even that wasn't… disastrous. Unpleasant, sure, when they both separated and chilled out and took the time to reflect on it (or Shane did, he couldn't confirm what Hunter did, but he doubted it was all that effective considering progress continued to not happen) but they didn't have complete breakdowns in operation anymore when they fought either.

Fitting the two of them into his daily routine hadn't been any kind of hardship after that. Any check up on Tori was almost guaranteed to become a check up on Blake, and if that failed he could check up on Dustin, or – crazy days – sometimes he could find the navy ranger himself, quiet but constant and no longer watching Shane every time he entered a room. Hunter was practically a guaranteed meet-up. Sensei had backed off a bit when they started to consistently function well in fights together, but Shane knew they'd be back to square one if he let Hunter wallow off on his own again.

So he'd, after a little bit of throwing Sensei's name around (since using Cam's name had backfired so spectacularly he'd had to fess up and admit that maybe Hunter was actually helping him improve, in some things, a little bit,) convinced Hunter to keep up the one on one sparring. He's not entirely sure how or when that also became creating training rosters with the crimson ranger – and, when Cam had finally come to investigate the cause of all the yelling – the Samurai ranger, but even that had ultimately worked out well.

But even then he'd been mostly resigned to the two Bradley's, plus Cam don't even think that he'd forgotten, being on the outskirts and only dragged to the center when Tori was flirting with Blake or Dustin was pestering Cam or Shane and Hunter argued and never getting closer, instead gritting his teeth whenever Blake visibly held himself back or Hunter gave them all a look of wary disdain. (Cam at least was a little easier, tried a little more, connected well with Dustin and respected Tori, was establishing points of contact and honestly you could take a few hints, Hunter.)

And then Blue Bay Harbor had been attacked by a killer heat wave that sent even Lothor's monsters into hiding. And Dustin, as was his way, had noticed something innocuous that was actually kind of a big deal. And the team had – come together. In their way.

~'~,~'~

"Do you think they're immune to heat stroke?" Dustin asks, head tilted to the side and attention firmly elsewhere. Shane swallows the rest of the water from his water bottle hard and has to take a slow, steadying breath before he ends up coughing. There are a lot of good things that have come from the addition of the Bradley's and Cam's new ranger status. Dustin's newfound stealth is one of them, it's just unfortunate that Shane's awareness and ability to sense others hasn't improved at quite the same rate. "They look miserable," Dustin continues, oblivious to the choking hazard he'd presented.

"Who looks miserable?" Shane asks, following Dustin's determined stare. He's not entirely surprised to find Dustin staring at Blake and Tori, Hunter carting boxes and making a winding path around them instead of cutting between them. Tori doesn't look miserable, smiling and chatting away happily about something, Bake at least appearing attentive to what she's saying even if he doesn't seem to be contributing to the conversation much. Hunter also doesn't look miserable, well, any more than he usually does. Determined frown, attention snapping to the doors any time they open, focusing on Kelly with about a fraction of effort and mechanically moving from Point A to Point B to Point A as directed.

"I think that's just Hunter's thinking face," Shane jokes.

"Dude, it's like a hundred degrees today," Dustin gripes, making a point to wipe his hand over his head and slump. "I feel like I'm dying and I'm wearing normal clothes. They're wearing layers. I'm getting overheated just looking at them."

This was actually true. Today was record-breaking hot, and as a result everything had slowed down. Shane doubted anyone would be at the tracks today. He knew no one was at the skate park – hot asphalt and bailing would not a fun time make. The beach would probably be packed for a few hours, but mostly people were staying indoors. Shane hadn't dared anything more than loose shorts and a tank top, Tori and Dustin had opted for the same. Dustin was a little more grudging about it, but they'd all been around Kelly long enough to know better than test her No Shirt, No Service policy.

By contrast, Hunter and Blake wore long sleeves and jeans and as Dustin had said, layers. Hunter, as was his habit, was wearing a short sleeved shirt on top of a thicker, long-sleeved one, covered from shoulders to wrists to ankles in fabric. Blake was wearing a blue jean jacket, open, but the sleeves weren't rolled up at all.

"The AC is on," Shane points out. Dustin rolls his eyes.

"Okay, so it's like ninety-nine degrees inside. It's still hot. You've been here an hour and you're still chugging water."

"I also walked here," Shane argues.

"And they've been working all day. Or, well, Hunter's been working all day and Blake's been talking?"

"It's called customer service," Blake calls out, grinning and side-stepping a swipe from his aggravated brother.

"Which would be great if Tori were actually buying something," Hunter snaps.

"Sorry Hunter," Tori smiles, sheepish but still amused. Storm Chargers was empty, if there were actual customers Kelly would have steered Blake away long before now.

"What's up?" Blake asks, cheerfully perking up. His smile is downright mischievous when he asks, "You need any help?"

"Do I need," Hunter repeats slowly, crossing his arms. "Any help? With what? All the inventory of the stuff I already moved?"

"Sure," Blake chirps. It's downright obnoxious. "I can open them up!" Hunter's glare is the kind of deadly Shane has come to associate with the moment right before Hunter kicks him in the face during training. "You look terrible, you should take a seat."

"I've been working!" Hunter scoffs. "But you know what? I will do that. The rest of the shift? All yours, bro."

"But it's only been two hours."

"Well then," Hunter drawls, apathetic to Blake's whining as he makes a beeline to a chair, snagging a bottle of water as he goes. "It's a good thing I did all the heavy lifting." Blake doesn't appear to mind as much as he sounds, griping as he heads over to the boxes even when Kelly and Tori both tell him to stop complaining. Apparently, the formula for chilled out happy Blake is two-ish hours of uninterrupted chat-time plus their resident blue ranger. Who knew?

"Hunter you know there's nothing in the policy against you wearing short sleeves, right?" Kelly asks. Hunter looks up wide-eyed from his second water bottle, the first already crushed and tossed into a bin.

"What?"

"It's hot," Kelly sums up, cutting to the point with raised eyebrows and concern plain as day. "You can take one of those off. How are you not dying in this heat?"

"Oh, I'm fine." He answers, draining the rest of the second bottle and eyeing a third. Totally fine behavior, Shane thinks, acting like a dehydrated turtle. Hunter must seem to realize it too because he visibly refrains from grabbing it. Shane has to physically stop himself form grabbing it and throwing it at the blond. Tori has no such restraints, swiping it up and shoving it into his face.

"You're sweating," she says, hand on her hip. "I didn't know you were body shy," Tori teases.

"I'm not-" Hunter swipes the bottle, twisting it open roughly and rolling his eyes. "I'm not body shy, what the hell."

"Well I can't think of any other reason you'd wear all that stuff," Tori counters.

"I can think of plenty," Hunter grumbles.

"Yeah? Name one," Tori challenges. Hunter tenses, and before Shane can resign himself to a headache and stressful afternoon at Ninja Ops Dustin lurches forward, eyes wide with a hint of mania as he presses both hands onto Hunter's shoulders.

"You're sick!"

"Okay one," Hunter starts, leaning back and gripping Dustin's arms, rocking him back slowly. "Personal space, we've talked about this man, come on. And two, I'm not sick."

"Your personal space is like, the entirety of Storm Chargers dude, we've talked about this. That's just not realistic. And how can you not be sick? You're like, the image of sickness."

"Thanks?" Hunter grimaces, Blake huffing a laugh as he hovers over a box. Hunter zeroes in on it, voice considerably sharper, "Thanks." Blake shoots him a thumbs-up without looking.

"Is that why you've been trying to keep your space bubble so huge?" Dustin asks, abruptly concerned as he reverses Hunter's grip on his wrists to squeeze his arms. "You've been getting sick and didn't want anyone else to catch it? Dude you have to tell us this stuff we can help. We can so help."

"That'd be great," Hunter says with more patience than Shane would've given him credit for. "Except I'm not sick."

"But the space bubble!"

"Is a perfectly reasonable amount of-"

"And the clothes!" Dustin cries, rallying in this newfound discovery. And about now, if Shane were the kind of leader the Bradley's wanted instead of the leader they actually had, he'd step in to distract Dustin and defuse the situation. Instead, he leans back on his heels and tries to temper his grin into something that won't get him killed in a fit of pique later.

It's remarkably easy after weeks of tempering the initial friction between Cam and Dustin. He should send the Samurai ranger a fruit basket or something. Maybe computer magazines instead. Those wouldn't spoil, at least, though anything he could get his hands on might be outdated for the tech genius.

Hm.

"That is not how the imaginary sickness that I don't have works. Mostly because I don't have it!" Hunter hisses, temper fraying under the onslaught that is Dustin's concern and the rest of Storm Charger's apathy. Surprisingly, Hunter then groans and turns to Shane. The slightly manic, mostly desperate look on his face is almost immediately replaced with a glower when he catches Shane's expression. Shane smothers his urge to laugh and holds his hands up instead.

"Dustin I don't think Hunter's sick," he relents, cutting into the conversation that had progressed mostly without him. He shares a look with Tori and that's about it for her, slinging an arm over Dustin's shoulders in camaraderie and laughing brightly even as she expertly disentangles his grip from Hunter. "He's wearing about as much as Blake is, and Blake's space bubble isn't nearly as monstrous."

"Dustin, guys," Blake interrupts. "We're fine. Seriously."

"So, you can take off your mystery jacket?" Tori asks. Blake rolls his eyes, shakes his arms and rolls his shoulders back, the jacket falling off of him and – Shane watches a little incredulously as Blake's sleeves fall down to his wrists.

"Ta-da," Blake delivers blandly. Dustin makes a dissatisfied noise and Hunter throws the third empty bottle with a little more force than he needs to.

"Is there some dress code we missed the memo on?" He demands. "No? Then drop it. I can wear what I want, and so can Blake."

And that, Shane thinks with a repressed eye roll and a shared look with Tori, is the end of that.

~'~,~'~

The heat wave goes on, and even in the sanctity of Ninja Ops Cam is dressed down. It was cooler down in Ops than it was above ground, but not by much, something about a machine getting stressed and the circular air conditioning shutting down. Cam gave in after ten minutes, gets a fan blowing for Sensei, and the Thunder brothers continue on with their clothing choices from hell.

It stopped being funny and wandered into annoying territory around the second training session they had, when they opted out of street clothes for their uniforms. The material was practical, and it actually was lighter than it looked – at least enough it didn't feel like cardboard while it was on, but it was black and still fairly dense as a pseudo-armor and still absorbed heat like crazy.

Neither of them seemed to show any hint of minding, and they all went through katas and the basics of their elemental training – to center themselves, Cam had said, doing exactly none of those things with them. Shane would've had choice words about that but he was too busy trying to keep what little moisture he had after an hour of light sparring during the heatwave of death inside of his body.

Focusing through hazy thoughts and burning limbs and sludge-like, stale air to force a breeze had topped his list of most excruciating training session to date. And that included every 'friendly bout' he'd had with Hunter – before and after joining the team. That said, the too-hot breeze that danced over his face and shoulders was also the most rewarding thing that had ever happened to him following training – so. Tori would call that balancing out. Shane's pretty sure he's just skirting by.

He's about to make it stronger, really revel in making the still air move before Hunter snaps him out of it with a sharp hiss. Shane opens his eyes just in time to see an arc of red lift from the guy's shoulder, the rest of him flinching away before it dies down and he has his face in his hands, growling lowly in frustration.

"Hey!" Dustin yelps. Shane's attention snaps from Hunter to Dustin, motion toward him aborted halfway through to take in the image of Blake half-twisted into Dustin and Dustin blinking a little confused up at him.

"Sorry- sorry," Blake says, looking sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck, managing to actually look concerned at Dustin who had half twisted to the side and half-sprawled out like he'd toppled over. Or been pushed. "I wasn't thinking. Are you okay?"

"You weren't thinking?" Shane asks before he can stop himself. Blake looks – not great. The tired look he shoots Shane isn't even the start of it, he's sweating, his posture is curved instead of the rigid form that's almost as constant and perfect as the kind he expects to see from Cam. He looks like he's been running three marathons by himself without stopping. After a battle.

"I believe that is enough for today," Sensei orders evenly. Relief washes through them, but Blake turns sharply to Hunter, gripping his shoulder and pulling him up. They have just enough patience to sketch a bow before they're suddenly gone without so much as a 'see you later.'

"That's not a good thing is it?" Dustin asks from the ground, blinking a little dazedly. Shane sighs and helps him to his feet.

"What isn't?" Cam asks, attention drawn to the pair.

"Blake and Hunter," Tori answers for them, frowning thoughtfully. "They've been… weird, lately."

"I suppose this has something to do with their clothing?" Cam asks distractedly, already heading back toward Ninja Ops. He stops when he realizes they aren't following him, shooting the trio an irritated look. "What?"

"You knew?" Dustin asks.

"Did I know that Blake and Hunter were endangering themselves by wearing ill-advised clothing in a heat wave? Clothing I can see with my eyes?" Cam asks slowly.

"Cam, man, it is way too hot for your special brand of love," Shane groans, already walking.

"Yes, I noticed that they were the only ones wearing what they were. And yes," Cam continues, sparing a look toward Tori, "It is dangerous. They have been keeping hydrated, though, and they did seem to know when to call it quits."

"I had hoped to speak with them," Sensei continues, perched on Cam's shoulder. "But given the events that just occurred I deemed it best to let them collect themselves first."

"You mean Blake?" Dustin asks wryly, rubbing his shoulder a little. Shane spares him a look, concerned, but Dustin just looks worried. And distracted, dragging his feet and pouting up at the sky.

"In part," Sensei agrees.

"So he actually did mess me up on purpose?" Dustin's eyes drag down from his determined stare at the cloudless sky, brows knitting as he looks at Sensei. Small ears twitch, the guinea pig's head tilting a bit thoughtfully.

"It is one of the things I had wished to speak with them about." The conversation continues around him, but Shane tunes it out, mind churning sluggishly through the information before he resolves to take Sensei's approach and worry about it later.

The fact is they've hit a divide.

He'd told Hunter that it wasn't just him and Blake anymore, that they were all working with them and that they had each other's backs. He'd meant it. He still means it. He just hadn't thought about it when he'd said it. There were differences that had to be settled, divides that had to be merged, and he was going to have to figure out how to do that. Root out the problem without shattering trust or pushing too hard.

This wasn't a pride issue though. Shane didn't even think it was an upbringing issue either. The Bradley's hadn't become more reserved or withdrawn. Blake still cheerfully goaded Dustin and Hunter and talked with Tori, listened to Cam. Hunter still watched Blake and Dustin, traded barbs with Cam and Shane. They were just… making themselves miserable while they did it.

And it didn't make sense. They weren't sick. They weren't falling behind. It wasn't a practical way to push themselves.

"Shane," Tori's voice pulls him out of his thoughts, hand on his shoulder and shaking a little. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're not going to be smelling any better standing in the middle of the hall."

"Oh, right, because you smell so great," Shane huffs back.

"Guys," Dustin interrupts, solemn-eyed as he turns to walk backwards. "I hate to have to tell you, but you both reek." Tori makes an incredulous sound and Shane arches an eyebrow. "Seriously," Dustin grins. "You guys should be in another room."

"You should all be in another building," Cam tacks on. "Please."

"You're no rose yourself, Cam," Shane grumbles. Dustin slings his arm on Cam's shoulder, leaning into him.

"He's right," Dustin agrees. "Man have you ever looked so not-together?"

"Well, I vote for showers," Tori says succinctly.

"No, and here I was thinking I'd just shove you all into a pool," Cam snorts. His sarcasm backfires almost immediately judging from the way Dustin perks up, bouncing closer. Shane watches Cam adjust to the movements easily, mostly amused that the guy had become so used to Dustin's constant outpour of energy he didn't even have to look as he walked and shifted his arm so that neither lost their balance or got stepped on while they moved.

"We have a pool? Why didn't we go swimming as our training?"

"What would that have accomplished?" Tori asks. Her smile is tame, but Shane can see the glint in her eyes – Cam's probably lucky she doesn't carry a camera with her everywhere. "I'm the only one with a water affinity."

"Body conditioning?" Shane asks, briefly stalled by the memory of brick-breaking. That hadn't really been body conditioning, but it wasn't impossible to apply. Plus, if this heat wave continued Shane was all for using pools instead of stale air. Seriously. All for it.

"That's ridiculous," Cam starts, only to be interrupted by Sensei's thoughtful tones.

"The idea has some merit," he counters. "If Shane and Tori were to combine their efforts against the rest of the team, it may make for an interesting exercise."

"…Whirlpools?" Cam catches on first. Shane feels a grin forming on his face.

"We'd have to practice," Tori's grin matches his, Shane's sure.

"I'm good with that."

"Can I make earthquakes?" Dustin asks, bouncing to face them.

"Uhm," Tori starts, sending Shane a pointed look.

"Sorry, Dustin," Shane starts bracing himself for the fall of Dustin's expression. "I'm not sure earthquakes in an underground base is that good an idea." And yep, there it is. I'd rather kick a puppy, he thinks grimly as Dustin rubs the back of his head, looks down with a nod.

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"Wait," Cam starts, eyebrows lifted. "You guys don't actually think I have a pool down here do you?"

"You mean you don't?" Dustin demands, and thank you Cam, Shane watches that sad expression notch even lower on the happy scale as he turns to Cam. He almost looks betrayed. Cam stills – basically a flinch in Cam-speak.

"What purpose would that serve?"

"Dude! Swimming!" Dustin explains, waving his arms around a little. His pout is disappearing, at a pace that's almost alarming because it can only mean he's gearing up to rally behind an idea. Cam must also realize it, because his arms immediately cross and he tries on his Bert-face. Brows furrowed, mouth frowning, very stern.

It's become a lot less effective ever since Hunter had coined the term – even though Shane is eighty percent sure that Blake is the one who actually said it first. Hunter was the one reckless enough to verbally compare Cam to a Muppet to his face. Unfortunately for Cam, Dustin had fallen in love with the concept, and in response to the stern look Dustin brightens and almost claps.

"No," Cam sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and grumbling something probably not kind under his breath. "No one is building a pool in Ninja Ops. This isn't negotiable."

"You brought it up," Dustin says reasonably. "You must want one."

"That's not-"

"There are natural bodies of water that are not the ocean that can be used for Shane and Tori to practice. Until they have the control for it, that kind of exercise will not be allowed," Sensei orders reasonably.

"Yes, Sensei," Dustin sighs.

"Thank you," Cam breathes.

"But you should totally go swimming with us," Dustin adds on. Shane claps a hand down on Cam's shoulder before he can argue, grinning wide and pinning Cam with a look in the process while Tori laughs and agrees. Sensei's silence more or less solidifies the declaration. Cam, proving that sometimes even he knows when to cut his losses, sighs and nods.

"Fine. As long as there's no more talk of swimming pools here."

"Yes!" Dustin cheers. Shane's just pleased the other isn't pouting at him anymore. Seriously.

~'~,~'~

"We are not hiding this one," Blake tells him, fingers under Hunter's chin and tilting his head back.

"No, really? I was thinking we could throw on a little powder, smooth on a bit of make-up," Hunter snaps.

"Slap you with a cactus? Say you fell on a weed?" Blake asks dryly, turning his head to the side.

"All the plants are dead," Hunter grumbles.

"You know, we probably would've had a better chance if you hadn't bit Dustin's head off at Storm Chargers."

"And if you hadn't pushed him over like a five year old," Hunter huffs. Blake rolls his eyes.

"I wasn't thinking."

"Obviously."

"I watched the direction of that charge. It went straight to the ground."

"And then right back into my face," Hunter cut in, gritting his teeth when his cheek was poked at.

"Yeah, well," Blake sighs. Better him than Dustin, Hunter knows. He's not actually complaining about the backlash of lightning, despite the fallout that he now had to deal with because of said problem. There was zero way he was going to get away with wearing a hoodie though, and even if he tried that would definitely be the last straw for Shane.

Oh shit, Shane, he thinks, batting Blake's hands away. "Blake, there is no way we can keep this secret." Blake paused, studying him for a long moment before looking away. "How far along are you?" Hunter asks, lightly tugging at a sleeve. Blake sighs, taking off the jacket and frowning at the far wall, Hunter reaching up slowly to his shoulders. "It doesn't look that bad."

"Says the guy with a face like a cheese grater," Blake mutters mutinously.

"I am trying to be supportive."

"It is so not my fault that you were born ugly," Blake sniffs. Hunter scoffs, jabbing a finger into his shoulder. "They'll be gone in like another day and a half."

"Secret is gonna be out by tomorrow, Blake."

"You could… call in?" Blake asks, wincing pre-emptively. "I don't want them making a big deal out of nothing."

"You literally just compared my face to a cheese grater. Somehow, I don't think they're just going to let this slide."

"You've always looked that bad," Blake groans, collapsing forward onto the bed next to him. "Kelly can't know," he continues after a long pause of ignoring Hunter's judgmental staring and then irritating poking and then less-kind shoving until he rolls onto his back so Hunter can lie down next to him.

"She can't. For that, I will call in. But that means in the meantime you are going to have to field Dustin and I am going to have to deal with Shane. They need to know."

"When you say 'need' to know," he starts, sighing explosively when Hunter flicks his arm. "I just… I didn't think it would be an issue." Hunter doesn't say anything to that. He knew where Blake was coming from. Their reasons to not join with the wind ninjas was retroactively growing. None of them were good enough reasons to suddenly stop helping protect the world and save millions of people from Lothor, but it was – a background tally for him to pull out on rainy days when he was feeling especially bitter toward Shane or Cam or any of the other multitude of things he had to be resentful about when thinking of the perfect trio and they're happy-happy outlook.

That might be a smidge uncharitable, or just a narrative of how Hunter had coped with his colorful life experiences up to this point, but the only one here to judge him was Blake who was arguably more exasperated and confused by them than Hunter was on any given day. So. Hunter was relatively safe here.

It's not like he's begrudging Blake his reasons for trying to keep the newfound side effect of their powers under wraps. Hunter would probably want to do the same if he was crushing on any of the Ninja Storm morons. Thankfully, because he was still sane while his little brother had clearly jumped off the deep end to swim happy laps around Tori and cut out sickeningly cute hearts in his spare time to offer up to her, Hunter was under no such illusions. But he understood it.

Or. Well. He understood that not having his crush (yes, crush, because Blake was a prepubescent girl and it was in turns annoying and hilarious) stress and worry about something they couldn't help or stop or fix was a much better option than. You know. Having them worry about the things they couldn't help or stop or fix.

So, for the sake of Blake and Blake's emotions – which had no bearing on anything remotely related to Hunter or Hunter's relationship with the team, just to be clear – he'd gone along with all of this. And now that was no longer an option. And that sucked. He could refrain his knowledgeable commentary for Blake's sake.

Just this once.

Besides, he wasn't too fond of having to deal with tomorrow either.

If it was anything like Blake's reports of the aftermath from his confrontation about the bro-clasps and leaning-into-personal-space thing, Hunter was in for a couple of days of awkward physical hovering and strange guilty looks before a twice as awkward heart-to-heart. And then there will be more invasions of personal space anyway, because Blake is a soft-hearted fool.

Hunter has no plans of letting things progress in this manner. He will give the boy-scout two guilty looks and exactly five seconds of hovering, and then he will put the hawk into the ground. There is only one person not missing, kidnapped, or dead that has that right and he doesn't even abuse the privilege.

Shane would just have to deal.