Title: Where Your Road Leads

Author: Sarafu

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Power Rangers do not belong to me.

Summary: After ten years of hard work, the Dino Thunder team has found success, but for two of them, happiness remains elusive. Can they find it in each other?

Dedication: To Casey whose talent and encouragement keep me writing, episode reviews keep me laughing, and insane marathon AIM session spawned the "Best Fic Ever" and to Darkchilde who has taken up residence in my head and puts her feelings about the Power Rangers more eloquently than I can manage.


Chapter 1: The Path of Least Resistance

January 2014

David Lancaster studied the list in front of him. He had yet to see one of these concerts go off without a hitch, and he had a hard time believing that nothing had gone wrong yet. He glanced around the temporary office where the chaos was at an absolute minimum. He heard her manager raving at some idiot, heard the low, excited hum of fans as they started to fill the auditorium, and heard silence from her dressing room. Everything was in place, and nothing else could – the phone at his elbow began to hum insistently. When he had first started, she had explained several of the personalized rings, but he didn't know this one. It was most likely a priority call simply because the ring sounded similar to the one from her best friend.

"Kira Ford," he answered crisply, watching a somewhat familiar face fill the screen.

"You don't look like Kira," the man said with an amused grin.

"I'm Miss Ford's assistant," he explained stiffly, hearing the laughter.

"I figured that out. Anyway, I called to talk to Kira not one of her lackeys." He sounded so supremely aware of himself that David had to resist the urge to hang up on him.

"Well, I'm sorry, but Miss Ford is unavailable before concerts." He felt a perverse pleasure in saying no to the arrogant guy. A sudden doubt popped into his head as he thought about his words. "Which all of Miss Ford's friends and family know." His voice changed from cool to menacing in a heartbeat. "I don't know how you whackos get her number, but you're kidding yourself if you think I'm going to let you talk to her. Instead, I'm going to hang up and call the cops."

"Whackos? Look, dude, Kira will talk to me. Trust me on that." David didn't look any more convinced by his argument, and he sighed irritably. "Ethan never said I'd have to get past a pit bull."

"Ethan?" In the group of Kira's friends, he was the best known to David. He called every other day and had a habit of dropping in to see Kira randomly. David liked Ethan because he was obviously devoted to rock star and tended to make Kira smile beatifically when she realized that he had called.

"Yes, Ethan, James, the person who gave me this number." He rolled his eyes with annoyance on the screen.

"Mr. James wouldn't give this number to just anyone," he said slowly. David knew that much from the beginning. In a meeting about her security, Ethan had mentioned that he never put Kira's private number on technological devices because there was always that one hacker who believed he could beat Ethan James and the risk was not worth it. That a computer genius would be so guarded about her number when his software was the most secure in the world – David finally understood that Ethan was overprotective of Kira but that the letters were not a matter to be taken lightly. "There's no way he would give it to you."

Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair. "Correction, he wouldn't give it to someone he didn't trust with his life or, more importantly, with Kira's life. And dude, they've trusted me with more than their lives for a very long time."

Wondering what exactly could be more important than their lives, David shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Miss Ford doesn't talk to anyone before a concert."

"Look, just ask her if she'll talk to me. If she says no, I'll just catch her later." Even though his words were persuasive, David knew that Kira would say no even to someone who used Ethan's name – in fact, he was fairly sure she'd say no to Ethan as well.

"All right. What name should I give her?" he asked wearily.

The caller looked dumbfounded. "You really don't know who I am?" With laughter threatening his tone again, he said, "Tell her it's an old friend from school."

"Nope, we constantly get a reporter named Cassie or something claiming that she went to school with Miss Ford in order to get an interview with her," David said firmly.

"Fine. Just ask her if yellow is her best color." His tone was annoyed again.

Yet even as David opened his mouth to refuse, he stared at the yellow vidphone in his hand. He remembered a brief exchange between Kira and Ethan where he had made fun of her favorite color, and she had pertly retorted that it was her best color. And she always wore a splash of yellow somewhere even if it was simply a yellow rose in her hair. The arrogant young man associating yellow with the rocker seemed to lend credibility to his claims about Ethan and friendship. "All right, I'll ask, but I doubt she'll say yes."

"Finally!" was the last thing David heard as he put the phone on hold and walked toward her dressing room door.

"Miss Ford!" He knocked loudly on her door, hoping he wasn't interrupting her at all.

"Come in, David. The door's unlocked," she called. "And what have I told you about calling me Miss Ford?" she chided as the door swung open, sending a reproving gaze toward her young assistant.

He turned crimson with embarrassment. They had the same discussion every time he forgot to call her Kira. "Sorry, Miss – Kira."

With an indulgent smile, Kira turned her attention back to the design she was painting on her smallest toe. "What's up? Is it almost time?"

"Uh, not quite." He cleared his throat nervously and tried to keep his gaze away from her perfect feet. "You have a phone call."

"That's odd," she muttered reflectively, studying her toes. "Everyone knows not to call before a gig."

"He said he was an old friend from school and asked if yellow was still your best color. It's probably just a psycho. I mean he tried to say that Mr. James gave him the number, and I don't think that's true. I'll get rid of him and call the police."

Kira looked at the phone thoughtfully. "No, wait. The number was just changed. The only people who have it are the people I love best in the world, and none of them would just give it away." She reached for the phone, flexing her toes in the process.

"Are you sure?" David remembered her manager's explicit instructions about phone calls with startling clarity.

"Give me the phone," she answered with a touch of impatience.

He reluctantly handed her the phone, watching as she expertly took the caller off hold and glanced at the screen. "Hello?"

"I can't decide if it's remarkably self-centered or incredibly brilliant to have your vidphone hold music be your own tunes, Kira."

"I prefer incredibly brilliant," she said airily, but her face lit up as she recognized the man. There were only a few people who made her smile of sunshine appear, and he was obviously one of them. "Speaking of remarkably self-centered, I haven't talked to you in forever, Conner McKnight. You could pick up the phone more often."

David leaned against the door, feeling extremely unintelligent. Everyone knew that Conner McKnight, Ethan James, and Kira Ford were best friends. Her first Grammy speech broke that secret wide open. No wonder he had been so sure that she would speak to him.

"It's just that we're on such whack schedules right now. I have practice when you're sleeping, you have rehearsals when I'm available, and I'm sleeping when you're performing. Between the three hour time difference and fame, it's been hard finding a free moment to call you," Conner reminded her, but the smiles they exchanged acknowledged that the fame thing was what they had signed up for when they became celebrities. "Especially with you on tour and me on the road."

David couldn't read her expression, but he heard the reluctance in her tone. "I know. I haven't made much of an effort either." She sounded mad as she glared at him. "Stop it, McKnight. It's not the first time I've admitted you're right so get that stupid smirk off your face or else I'll hang up right now."

Whatever effort the soccer player made seemed to be enough for Kira as she relaxed. "So what's up with you?"

Conner had realized that they still had company so he spoke loudly, "Dude, could you go away so we can have a private conversation?"

Caught eavesdropping, David felt even worse when Kira turned and smiled at him gently. "David, can you please check the sets and the costumes? I'll be ready to perform when I'm needed. Thank you." He slunk from the room, swimming in humiliation – the worst sin of a personal assistant was to invade his boss's privacy.

"Conner, you could be a little nicer. David didn't know that you're one of my best friends especially since you wouldn't give him your name," she scolded.

"Sorry," he said, sounding as repentant as a Conner apology could manage to be. "It was just refreshing to find someone who didn't know who I was."

"I bet," she murmured longingly.

"Anyway, I called because Ethan said you have a concert in Massachusetts next week."

"Yeah, so?" Her nose wrinkled with concentration.

"Well, that is near the practice facility and I have Wednesday off so I was wondering if my favorite award-wining musician wanted to have lunch with little old me." He batted his eyelashes at her in a terribly obsequious fashion.

Laughing, she shook her head at him. "You've never considered yourself unimportant so you can't start now." She puzzled through his words before she beamed joyfully. "You're really going to be that close? Of course, we have to meet for lunch, and you have to come to my concert."

"Something like that," he agreed, marveling at the way she sparkled with life when she was happy.

"Oh, this is fantastic, Conner. Definitely one of your better ideas."

Conner grinned. "Thanks for the backhanded compliment."

"You know that isn't what I meant," she retorted, not trying to fight her own smile.

It was the same easy camaraderie that had governed their friendship. "Ethan didn't mention that you have a gig tonight."

"He probably didn't know. I can't even keep track of my own schedule. He usually calls in the morning just in case. Here, hang on a second, let me plug you into my screen so I can finish getting ready and you can tell me all about soccer." His handsome face soon filled the large monitor on the dressing room table.

"What do you have left to do? You look great to me," Conner said affectionately as he surveyed her figure.

"I need to finish painting my toes, and I need to do my hair and make-up. I'm definitely not going on stage in my fluffy yellow bathrobe." Kira rolled her eyes.

"Hey, I bet your fans would love it. What are you painting on your toenails?"

"Why do you care?"

"Ethan and I used to have an ongoing bet about your toenail polish. Half the time we defaulted because we couldn't get Trent to tell us or we couldn't find a way to get a glimpse short of stealing your shoes."

"Hmm, well, that explains a lot and makes me feel a little better. I figured you guys had foot fetishes . . . . which was frankly disturbing since you guys were my best friends."

Conner suddenly looked very uncomfortable. Kira had come somewhat close to the origin of the bet. He managed a realistic laugh. "Not even close, Kira. We were just being competitive."

"Typical. Anyway, today's masterpiece is nothing more than yellow polish with multi-colored dots. But you've avoided my question long enough – how is your career?"

"Oh, you know, it's soccer. I love to play it, and it's exciting to be the U.S.'s best hope to win the World Cup."

Pausing in her preparations, she studied him with a perceptive gaze. "So why don't you sound happy, Conner?"

"I am happy, Kira. You know I wouldn't trade soccer for anything and I wouldn't give it up either. It's just that it feels like I'm missing something. Some of that is you and Ethan – I hate being so far away from you two, but there's something else, too." His admission wasn't one he would make to anyone except Ethan and Kira because he knew how childish it sounded.

Kira's eyes filled with familiar empathy. She hurt for him especially when it came to her friends. He was such a great guy who deserved someone wonderful so he could be happy. "Conner, maybe it's time for a real girlfriend. It sounds like you want companionship." He opened his mouth to say uncertain words, but she waved off his next sentence. "I know, I know, Conner McKnight isn't ready to settle down."

Conner wanted to correct her misperception, but something in his brain stopped him from blurting out words he could never take back. "I'll take your advice under consideration. And how is my favorite ex-Yellow Ranger doing? I saw that you're gonna be back in the studio by the end of the year."

"I'm tired," she admitted. "It's the touring – a different stop every night combined with a high energy show. It's been exhausting. At least I am almost done. There's something about touring that saps my creativity so I'm looking forward to writing again."

"Thirty minutes until show time, Kira." Her manager thumped on her door.

"Ask not for whom the bells tolls . . ." Kira murmured.

"It tolls for thee," Conner finished cheerfully. "We'll have lunch on Wednesday, right?"

"Yeah, I'll have David clear my schedule," she said, slightly distracted. Her eyes cleared and she smiled at Conner with warmth. "And we'll talk a lot more on that day, okay?"

A trapped feeling rose in his stomach as Conner nodded. "Okay, I'll call you later in the week to work out the details. I can't wait to see you."

"Have a good night, Conner."

"Break a leg, Miss Ford."


Conner pressed end and stared at the blank screen. He hated the unspoken threat he heard in her tone. She made having a girlfriend sound like the easiest task, but he knew it was untrue for him. He was incompatible with the females he had dated (half the population of New York City to hear the tabloids tell his story), and he was well aware of the fact. He pressed speed dial and watched the Olympic ceremony that filled his screen (courtesy of Ethan's sense of humor).

"Ethan here," a voice answered with preoccupation as he typed on the nearby keyboard.

"E, why didn't you tell me about Kira's pit bull?"

At the sound of Conner's voice, Ethan pushed the keyboard away and focused his attention on the screen with a grin. "You must have talked to David."

"I don't know his name – he was too busy threatening to hang up and call the cops on me." Irritation returned as Conner reviewed the conversation in his head.

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he didn't know who I was and thought I was a whacko apparently."

The athlete missed the shadows that crossed Ethan's face, but the programmer logically asked, "Even after you told him your name?"

"Dude, he didn't know who I was at all – how often do you think that happens? Besides, once I got through to Kira, he was totally embarrassed."

Frowning, Ethan shook his head. "You shouldn't have done that. David's a good kid, and he was just trying to do his job. So how did you finally get to talk to our rock star?"

"Well, the fact that you gave me the number was enough to deliver a color- coded message to her. It was a piece of cake, and she was totally willing to take my call. Those codes were brilliant, dude."

Ethan ignored the compliment. "I'm sure she was happy you finally called – you had her a little worried."

"Yeah, we're having lunch when she's in Boston next week. I didn't have much of a chance to talk to her though – she has a concert tonight."

"No wonder David was so reluctant. Her manager hates for Kira to be distracted before a concert," Ethan laughed.

"I have a hard time believing that Kira would let anyone dictate something like that."

"I think she lets them think she needs the time alone so they won't bug her about everything that might be going wrong."

"Hmm." Conner barely heard the reasoning.

Knowing that his best friend was rarely pensive, Ethan prodded, "What's wrong, Conner?"

"Oh, Kira started in on her whole I-need-a-girlfriend lecture, someone I love and respect. And lunch is going to be ten times worse – she'll probably offer to set me up with someone she's sure I'll like."

Any trace of amusement vanished from Ethan's expression. "Why don't you tell her the truth? At the very least, she'd leave you alone about having a girlfriend."

"She would skin me alive and then spend the rest of my short life making fun of me." Conner's dejected look was eerily reminiscent of a little boy denied his favorite toy.

"Conner, she's your best friend. Do you really think she would tease you once she knew the real reason you won't commit to anyone?"

"Because telling Kira that none of the girls I've dated measures up to her isn't too ridiculously pathetic and melodramatic. And telling her that I've been attracted to her for ten years isn't exactly going to make her do handstands, Ethan."

"I think Kira would be far more understanding that you think she would especially if you tell her that you didn't want to ruin your friendship. I mean you saw the potential in her long before she became America's Rock Star."

"Nope, not gonna happen."

"For someone who takes more risks than anyone I've ever known, I don't understand how you can just walk away from this," Ethan said with frustration. "Pretending it isn't true doesn't magically make it untrue."

Long familiar with the argument, Conner replied, "But it does make it easier to focus on the friendship so I don't focus on how good she smells or how pretty she looks. Besides, it's not like Kira has ever expressed any interest in me. She only falls for those artsy types like Trent and that one lead guitarist."

"How is she supposed to know that you're available romantically when you've gone to great lengths to prove that you don't want a real relationship? And her relationships are farces anyway because Trent broke more than her heart – he broke her trust. She's built this wall around her heart, expecting every relationship to fail, and they do because she doesn't let anyone past that wall, thus fulfilling a self-defeating prophecy."

"So what exactly would make me any different?" Conner inquired, impressed by Ethan's new analysis of their best friend.

"Because she doesn't have the wall with us. She gave us her trust long ago, and we've never broken or even damaged it. You, me, Dr. O, Hayley, Kim – we see the real Kira because she knows that she doesn't have to be anyone but herself. Especially you and I, Conner – we've seen her at her best and worst, know all of her secrets and we've never walked away. You have an advantage because you're her best friend, and she knows she can trust you." Ethan's voice was steady as he cited the facts.

Conner shook his head. "I won't do it, Ethan. It's not worth the risk."

"What risk? The risk that results in rejection and a blow to your pride or the risk that you might actually set something good in motion? What are you going to tell her when she starts asking questions about your latest dates?" Ethan asked rapidly.

"I'm going to tell her the usual. I'm too busy with soccer right now. It is the actual truth, you know. The World Cup is six months away, and we're the best hope the U.S. has plus there's a good chance that I won't be here in four years. This is my last chance to really make a mark on history."

"You've always managed to play soccer and date even when you were training for the Olympics. In fact, the only time I've ever seen you walk away from dating was when we were saving the world on a weekly basis."

"It was too hard to do both. Didn't you prove that with Cassidy?" Conner pointed out cheerfully, happy to have a comeback to this particular argument.

Ethan looked annoyed by his reasoning. "Dude, you didn't even try because you were too busy falling in love with our mutual best friend."

"Don't start," he warned, having heard some variation of the topic for the last ten years.

"You've wasted a hundred chances over the years. I don't think you should blow this one, Conner. Neither of you has actually dated in the last six months. Obviously, she's not having any luck either," Ethan said persuasively.

"Wait a minute – she hasn't been dating either?" he echoed with keen interest.

"Of course not. Between the tour and the fishbowl existence, she's too tired and reluctant to pull some innocent bystander into the paparazzi limelight. You should understand that. Isn't that why you stick to models and actresses?"

"Actresses have always been your department." Conner paused, thinking about Ethan's information and advice. "But it doesn't really change anything, Ethan. There's still consequences to consider because once I said anything, I couldn't take it back."

"Now you just sound like you're trying to convince yourself. Look, all I'm saying is don't underestimate Kira – she's probably more open than you think. If you don't put any pressure on her and present it as fact, I don't think she would freak out."

"No, Ethan, I can't," Conner stated with finality. He glanced at his watch. "I should go. I've got practice in nine hours and I need sleep."

"Okay. Just promise me you'll think . . ."

"Good night," he said, pressing end in the middle of Ethan's sentence. Vowing that Kira would never know his hidden feelings, he swore that he would focus on the friendship because he could never imagine anything changing between them.