A/N: This takes place the night before all the rangers go their separate ways, during "Crown and Punishment", after Mack is turned human.
Summary: Why is Spencer sneaking into the pink ranger's room? Read and find out. Set during "Crown and Punishment."
It was the night before his "children" would be leaving to go their separate ways. He knew as each one left the place they called home fore nearly a year, each ranger would go off and do something great. Spencer Spencer had grown accustom to the youth that stampeded through the mansion . . . it was full of life with them there. The butler had thought of them all as family, like a surrogate grandfather of sorts. By tomorrow afternoon, though, everyone would be gone, even Andrew and Mack, off on some wild quest. He would live in this house alone for at least six months, or more, if the expedition went well. And as for the rest, well, if they chose to see Mack, then maybe he would see them . . . her, again. But otherwise . . . nothing. It was a said thing to think about, and Spencer's train of thought didn't really stray until he had arrived at his intended destination.
The billionaire's long time friend sighed heavily, turning the knob of the pink ranger's room ever so slowly as to not make a sound. He crept into her overly pink room and stopped mid-way to take in the sight that lay before his eyes. Her hot pink luggage stacked neatly between the door and her white dresser. Only a few of her things were still strewn about, mostly tomorrow's outfit, and some essentials, tooth brush and stuff like that.
Spencer smiled in a type of admiring way, like an art enthusiast viewing a Van Gogh or Picasso painting. Rose lay on her stomach, semi hiding a rather thick book she had been reading, her blanket lying disgruntled over the bottom half of her. Her right foot hanging off the side of her bed exposed to the night air. An empty cup of tea was watching from the nightstand, the lamp filling the room with a warm glow. Some papers lay strewn at the side her bed. 'Must of fell' He thought. Spencer nearly jumped out of his shoes when he heard her laptop growl in the process of going into sleep mode, as if to notify him of its presence.
The older gentleman picked up the sea of essays, and placed them on the desk across the room, closed the window a little to make sure nothing was blown off the desk, and so she didn't freeze. He slid the book out from under her, and placed the bookmark in it that had been threatening to fall off the nightstand.
Rose groaned and repositioned herself. Turning over on her back, her left hand seeking refuge under her pillow and her right resting on her stomach. The petite ranger scrunched up her nose, and then just as quickly relaxed it. Now her feet both under the covers, Spencer reached for the top of the comforter and pulled at it, letting it gently fall over the girl. It was like a parent tucking in a small child.
When all that was done, Spencer Spencer slowly, and sneakily pulled the vanity chair beside her bed. Rose fidgeted a little before settling down again. Spencer sat down, with proper posture, of course, and in a soothing, and soft voice, he began.
Mr. Hartford had been shuffling down the hall, making his way to the kitchen for a late night snack when he saw Rose's door open, and the light on. He thought he was going to catch Mack in there, and was preparing for an awkward moment between son and father, but instead he saw his long time friend, sitting next to the bedside of a young robotics genius, their pink ranger. Andrew was about to continue down stairs, but his curiosity got the better of him and seeing as he hadn't been caught, the archeologist pressed himself up against the wall to listen in on what his friend was saying to the sleeping ranger.
"You know, I never told anyone this Miss Rose, not even Andrew, but I was once married." He paused, 'Not awake. Good. Continue. You need to do this; this is as close to closure as you're going to get'. The butler pressed on. "Back in England, when I was still as you youth call it, hot. We met waiting for a bus. She took my breath away. I never knew what love was, until I looked into her eyes." He smiled as the memory of that rainy morning flooded his mind again.
"Two years later I proposed. And we were married within the week. We eloped, my father was my only remaining family and the rest of her's had gone back to the Philippines. We wanted a big wedding, but we couldn't afford it. We had every intention of visiting and sharing our joy with them." Tears started to fill his eyes threatening to spill.
"We just never got around to it. Money was never in excess, so trips like that weren't available to us. About a year and half later we were blessed with a baby girl. She was beautiful Miss Rose. She had her mother's . . . everything. Her hair, her eyes, her smile. No matter what bad mood I was in coming home from work, at the time I was working at a warehouse stocking boxes – I was the only one working, my wife had to take of our daughter. My baby girl would lift my spirits; she had the cutest laugh. It was great."
Tears strolled down the wise butler's face. Rose mumbled in her sleep for a minute then quieted down again "We named her Lillian after my late mother. By the time she was sixteen, she wanted to see the world. She was very bright for her age, beautiful, a spitting image of her mother in every sense, and very ambitious. She wanted to make a difference and save the world . . . like you Miss Rose." He said with smile.
"My father knew we were financially struggling as it was. With the little money he saved, he sent me to learn the art, if you will, of being a butler. I graduated two years later, and my father once again did me a large favor. He had come across a very wealthy man visiting England on business, a Mr. Andrew Hartford Senior, Mr. Hartford's father. My father was rather good with words and convinced him to hire me. It was a done deal."
The butler sighed a deep, choked up sigh. "Unfortunately, my father passed before I left of a heart attack. But I persevered; I was determined to make a better living for my family. My plan was to work there for a while, then maybe open my own school, after Lillian finished college in America. Mr. Hartford Sr. said my family could live with him if it worked out. It was too good to be true, Miss Rose." Spencer took another deep, heavy breath.
" I left first to go to America. I was there on trial for a few months, and then I was "contractually hired." By then I had become good friends with Andrew, our Andrew. Bright young man he was. I hadn't told him I was married, or had child yet . . . and I never did."
A fresh set of tears stream down the gentleman's face. "The afternoon that my daughter and my wife were to catch the ship to the states, they were killed in a motor vehicle accident. I didn't find out until they already had the funeral, my neighbors, and friends took care of everything. I never got to say good-bye." He choked.
Andrew blinked several times to fight back his own tears. "I never knew." He whispered to himself, feeling guiltier by the minute for lacking this knowledge.
"I haven't gone back since – to England that is. And I probably never will. It hurts too much. They were so excited to come here, especially Lillian, so much opportunity for her to soar to all sorts of heights." He stopped to study the young woman, still very much asleep.
"Then I met you . . . many years later that is. When I first saw you, I thought you were Lillian . . . perhaps her ghost. And then I found out you were of the ones chosen by Andrew to be a ranger, from England no less, and here to stay. I was beside my self on what to do. I felt absolutely horrible, all these old memories trudged up every time I was near you, Miss Rose." Even months later, it still astounded Spencer how much Rose looked like his daughter, Lillian.
"It wasn't until weeks later, that it dawned on me that maybe this was a second chance. Maybe I was given a second chance." He paused, regaining his composure. "I wanted to thank you. By talking to you about literature, anything, and everything, it's like I was given a second chance, if only for a little, to know what it might have been like had Lillian made it here, and lived with me. I needed to say this to you because I might not see you again. So thank you for giving me this second chance, Miss Rose."
He stood slowly, and without realizing it, Spencer tucked Rose in tighter, sweeping the hair that had fallen in her face, and kissed her on the forehead, wishing her good night, like head had done to his own child so very long ago. He stopped shocked, a memory of him doing the same to Lillian, when it had passed he quietly put the chair back, grabbed the empty teacup and saucer, and turned off the light.
Andrew had been so engulfed in the story he didn't notice Spencer coming out and shutting the door until it was too late. "Andrew?" The butler said, rather frazzled, but not loud enough to disturb Rose from her slumber.
"Spencer, I wa-wa-was going to get a late night snack. Cookies." He stuttered. "What are you doing?" He asked, knowing very well what his friend had been doing.
"I was collecting dishes." Spencer replied, holding up the teacup and saucer, as proof. The two men stood there in silence, each knowing the other lied, but for their dignity, pride, and feelings, both accepted the other's lie.
"I got it." The billionaire said taking the dishes. "I'll wash'em when I get down to the kitchen." He saw his friend about to protest, but stopped him before he could. "It's late, almost 1:30 in the morning, and they're leaving early tomorrow, you don't want to miss saying good bye, do you?"
"No sir. Very well." Said Spencer, putting on a fake smile to appease his employer, and heading off to his bedroom. Andrew watched the butler enter his room and close the door behind him. 'I'm so sorry Spencer. I didn't know. Had I . . . I don't know what I could have done. But I'm sorry.' He thought, mentally kicking himself for not inquiring more about his friend's past, but then again, would Spencer really have told him the truth.
Mr. Hartford began to tiptoe down the stairwell, only to see out to the corner of his eye a figure enter the pink ranger's room, and the lights flicker on. Andrew thought maybe it was Spencer at first. 'It can't be, I would have heard him pass me.' He listened carefully. The small sound of giggling, and a young man's voice could be heard. Andrew listened more carefully, and then it hit him who was in there. 'Mack.' He thought simply.
The older Hartford looked back to Spencer's room with a cocky, confident grin. 'I think, my old friend, that this won't be the last time you see Rose.' And with that Andrew stealthily descended the steps toward the kitchen for his usual late night snack.
The End
A/N: This just came to me before I went to bed. Let me know what you think. Love it – hate it, the only way for me to know it is to review it. Hope you all don't hate it, though. Anyway, thanks for reading, I know it's rather long. Please do review.