Disclaimer:Are these even necessary anymore? PRSPD does not belong to me, though Ree is my own creation. So is this layout of the zord hangar.
Author's Note:This takes place within the time frame where Sky and Jack still don't like each other very much.
- -
Break
He'd never admit it, but sometimes his second-in-command was a little scary. Six feet one inch of twenty three year old dedication and compulsive training tendencies was what Jack faced every time he and Sky sparred. Sure, he'd beaten Sky a couple of times, and not just due to luck, but if he had to put his money down—or his life—Sky was the better fighter. It probably had to do with the Blue Ranger's need for perfection, and Jack didn't envy him for it. Nor did he envy Sky's austerity, not when a little less tension could have taken Sky a long way in multiple arenas. Team dynamics, for one. Girls, for another. Not that it was any of his business, but he sometimes wondered if a good lay would improve the Blue Ranger's attitude any. Part of his brain said of course it would. The other part said Sky wasn't actually human. After the incident with Sophie, who really knew around here?
The floor tumbled overhead as he hit the mat for the third time—in a row. Sky automatically held out a hand to him, but Jack had learned early on that the gesture told nothing about Sky's mood of the day. It was just good sportsmanship. Jack accepted the proffered hand, felt the strength in the arm attached to it as he was hauled to his feet. For a moment, he wondered what Sky thought his biggest strengths were, physical or otherwise. He then wondered what Sky thought his biggest weaknesses were, and then realized that was probably a moot question.
"Need a breather?" Sky asked in a carefully neutral tone. Jack wasn't fooled.
"No." He made a show of loosening the muscles in his neck. "I'm just getting started."
Sky merely shrugged, and Jack could see that the matter was out of his mind, just like that. Maybe he'd judged the Blue Ranger too soon. Maybe Sky wasn't deriving some sort of personal satisfaction out of sending him into the floor over and over again. Maybe this really was just a matter of training.
Part of his brain said yeah right.
Martial arts instruction at the Academy wasn't Jack's favorite activity of the day. They brought back memories of lessons taken when he was younger, at a community youth center that had sprung up one night next to the decaying old church. That was the foundation of his fighting skills, but the youth center hadn't lasted long. Nothing in his old neighborhood did. Faces came and went, some quickly and some slowly, both good people and bad. He used to return to the neighborhood almost every night, until it finally changed enough that it no longer felt like home. Then he began staying away, and became a wayfarer in New Tech. The streets taught him lessons in defense faster than any Academy seminar ever could. In a way, the time he spent at SPD was about learning to let some of those defenses down.
He ducked to avoid a jab from Sky's right hand. He had been defending for a while, pulling only a few punches that were never intended to land. His style normally incorporated more kicks, but there was an inherent risk to taking your feet off the floor, especially when fighting against someone who didn't have to. Upper body strength was an advantage Sky was well aware of. Forearms that could create forcefields was another. Sky's feet rarely left the ground when he was fighting.
They both paused for a second after such a long impasse, and it was here that the opportunity for faster reflexes to triumph opened. Jack lashed out with a roundhouse, and it connected. Sky went down, and Jack thought that was the end of it…until the Blue Ranger's leg swung around and took his feet out from under him just as he landed. He was on his back for the fourth time—a record for him.
He didn't get up right away, and predictably, Sky came over and stood towering over him.
"Are you even concentrating?" the Blue Ranger asked, sounding annoyed.
"You know sparring isn't my thing," Jack grumbled from the floor. He did much better in simulations, where the goal was to win, and improvisation trumped things like form and technique. Also, he was usually fighting with his teammates instead of against them.
"It's practice for the real deal," Sky said. "If you can't handle it in the training room, how are you going to handle it on the battlefield?"
"I'm not fighting you on the battlefield, thank god. Besides, isn't it obvious by now that I can handle it? I'm still here, aren't I?"
Sky shook his head. "You can't count on tomorrow."
That startled Jack. Such had been the grand theme of his existence on the streets, where making every moment count was the only way to live. What did it mean when someone like Sky had to remind him of that?
He started to push himself up off the floor, and the Blue Ranger offered a hand again. Jack took it automatically, but this time he thought there might have been something behind it. A five-minute truce, maybe.
"How about that breather?" he said.
"How about you let me know when you decide to take sparring seriously."
Sky brushed past him to grab his towel and morpher from the edge of the mats and then strode right out of the room. Ever the picture of self-control, Jack thought irritably. Before Sky, he hadn't realized it was possible to be wound that tight all the time.
He paced around the mat, stretching this limb and that, pretending to be winding down from a tough workout. He and Sky were capable of much more than this; their sparring sessions were usually best when they were both in competitive but good moods, or when they really wanted to kill each. Whatever helped to make the fighting a little more genuine.
He looked up to see a pair of eyes peering around the doorframe, followed by a smile and a lithe body skirting the doorjamb.
"Three to four again?" Ree asked, approaching the mat. It took him a moment to figure out what she meant—those were the stats he had given her for his last match with Sky. They were a lie, of course, and he considered lying again.
"No," he confessed. "Try zero to four."
"Bad day?"
"Nah." He wondered how much she had seen, if anything. "I just…I don't know what it is today."
"Long day?"
"No…" Because getting up in the vicinity of 7 a.m. every morning should have been second nature by now. "Haven't even had a patrol yet."
"Will you?"
He couldn't recall the schedule at that moment. "Probably."
She looked thoughtful for a second. "Maybe the fresh air will do you good."
"Maybe. We sure don't get a lot of that in here."
Ree stepped up onto the mat. "Want to make it zero to five?"
He raised an eyebrow. "In your dreams, cadet."
"I thought you'd say that." She put up her fists. "Now we have to do this."
When he realized she was completely serious, he reluctantly assumed a ready stance. "You know, this isn't going to make me feel any better."
"I wouldn't have guessed from the smile on your face."
"But I'm not smiling."
"Well, you should be."
She threw the first punch, which he easily blocked. The next two were equally harmless. An unexpected snap kick almost got him, and that inspired her to modify her tactics. He suddenly found himself under fire by rapid and somewhat creative footwork, not unlike what he saw from Syd, and he threw in some kicks of his own.
"You're much better with a gun," he remarked, deflecting a chop aimed at his ribs.
"Yeah. I am."
Patience was on her side though, and because her skill wasn't quite enough to engage his complete attention in the fight, his interest level dwindled and his efforts grew dull.
"Jack!"
Sky appeared in the doorway, back in his uniform and looking freshly showered. "Commander Cruger wants to see us in the Command Center, ASAP."
Ree's foot was five inches from his chin when Sky called his name, and it was still hanging there mid-kick after the Blue Ranger finished speaking. Jack looked at the foot in surprise and she put it down, stepping back slightly. She nodded minutely at Sky in acknowledgement.
Jack answered his teammate with a half-salute, half-wave with two fingers, but Sky didn't move.
"I'll be right there," he called, frowning. Sky just jerked his head in a clear get-a-move-on gesture.
"Maybe it's important," Ree said, quietly enough so only Jack could hear.
"When isn't it," was his dry reply. "I'll catch you later."
He touched her shoulder as he walked past to grab his morpher off the floor and follow Sky out the door. The Blue Ranger was curiously silent as they walked down the hallway towards the lift.
"So what's eating you?" Jack asked.
"Nothing."
"It's gotta be something."
"You're the one who's distracted today."
"Like you've never been."
"Not when it's important."
They reached the lift, but the car was two floors above theirs and traveling upward, so Sky immediately headed towards the escalators, taking them two steps at a time.
The Command Center was eight levels up.
"Do you know how to have fun, Sky?" Jack asked. Taking the stairs two at a time was decidedly more arduous for him than it was for his longer-legged teammate.
"Yes," Sky replied a little too quickly.
"What do you like to do?" Jack pressed.
"I like to run," Sky said.
Jack snorted. "I said for fun."
"I heard you." Sky sounded exasperated. "What's wrong with running?"
"Nothing." Unless you were running from self-important cops with no sense of humor. "What else do you like to do?"
"You mean what do I like to do that you might approve of."
"That's the idea."
"Choosing leisure activities according to your standards isn't exactly a goal of mine."
"That's too bad, Number Two."
Sky visibly bristled in front of him, and Jack instantly regretted his words. He hadn't meant to say anything that spiteful; it just sort of slipped off his tongue. Now he'd made things miserable for himself and possibly the rest of the team for at least a week. He stayed behind Sky even after they were done climbing the escalators because if they looked each other in the eye right then, they might just decide to kill each other. And Jack didn't have his blaster on him.
"I'm going to change into my uniform," Jack said as they passed through the dorm wing. Sky didn't answer or even break his stride. He kept walking as if Jack didn't exist.
Swell. As soon as he was alone in his room, Jack allowed himself a loud sigh. That Number Two comment had been out of line, but at the same time, he wished Sky would just lighten up and accept his position. He was tired of walking on eggshells and having to modify his own behavior just to maintain peace on the team.
He stripped off his workout clothes and pulled on the uniform he'd left across the bed. The jacket didn't wrinkle easily, and so he was prone to throwing it over whatever furniture was handy, but he had to be careful with the pants. The vertical stripes down the sides only made creases more noticeable. He wondered what the commander wanted, and why he hadn't called the Rangers directly via morpher or by PA system if it was so important. He left his room still tugging on the zipper of his jacket, and was two steps away from the Command Center when he realized his blaster was still on his nightstand.
- -
He snuck out after lights out. The night was much more pleasant to wander in, he found, when he had a room to return to afterward. He wore civilian clothing and took the stairs all the way to the ground floor, where he phased through walls instead of using doors to avoid giving anyone the opportunity to tell him to go back to his room. Never mind the fact that he outranked everyone except the commander and Dr. Manx. In the morning he could take orders. For now, the night was his.
One of the rooms he passed through was the zord bay, because it was so cavernous and chock full of shadows to hide in. It had been during these nightly excursions that he learned the zord bay was rarely completely empty. Sometimes it was an entire team doing maintenance and repair work through the night. Sometimes it was just one guy drooped over a table half-asleep, waiting for a scan to finish.
Tonight there were four people up in the rafters, all holding data pads and possibly only trying to look busy. One of them had on a C squad uniform, and was leaning lazily against the railing with her data pad hanging over the edge. Jack thought a long while about what he wanted to do before he walked out of the shadows and towards the zords.
"Hey!" one of the technicians shouted down at him. "Are you authorized to be here?"
He was confused for a second. Maybe the man didn't recognize him from all the way up by the ceiling. He glanced at the C cadet and saw that she was laughing.
"Don't you guys recognize your Red Ranger when you see him?" she chided her alarmed colleagues, and waved down at him. He waved back. The technicians appeared to relax.
"I'll be right down, sir!" she called, and headed in the direction of the steel mesh lift. He grimaced.
"Sorry, sir," the tech that had yelled at him offered after a silent pause. This time, Jack couldn't resist a grin.
"No problem."
It was a long minute before the lift reached the ground and Ree bounced out over to him.
"Where's your uniform?" she asked.
"I don't work past eleven," he answered, only half kidding. He looked her uniform up and down. "What are you doing down here so late?"
"Runner Two is experiencing bugs." She wiped her hands on her pants absently. "They're making Dr. Manx uneasy."
"We took them out just yesterday."
"It started after you came back."
He frowned. "Is it serious?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out."
He nodded, glancing up at the giant blue zord. "You think the bug can spread from zord to pilot? Or vice versa, maybe?"
"Oh, Jack." Her sudden familiarity threw him off. She sounded amused, but also…tired. "What do you have against Sky?"
The familiarity with which she spoke Sky's name surprised him even more. "Oh, you're siding with him now?"
"I can't side with anyone until I have your answer," she shot back.
He thought about how he could best summarize his issues with his second in command, but there was a more pressing question in his mind. "How well do you know him, anyway?"
"Sometimes very well," she replied immediately, as if she had addressed the same question before. "Sometimes not." And before he could inquire further, she turned away from him, "Let's go somewhere a little more private."
So he had no choice but to follow her to the alcove that served as the break area for the tech crew. The partial wall that sectioned it off from the rest of the room hid them from sight. Ree headed immediately towards the coffee maker, deftly tossing the filter and used grounds into the trash and measuring out a fresh pot. She remained silent as she went over to the sink and gave her hands a thorough scrubbing, working up a thick layer of suds. She had slender fingers, and was possibly a nail biter.
"So…" Jack said to fill the silence.
Ree dried her hands thoroughly on a paper towel. She then walked right up to him and kissed him hard on the mouth, her arms going up around his neck.
"…okay," he said when she let him go. Her smile widened into a grin when the coffee maker began sputtering and burbling loudly.
"A smokescreen," he realized.
"Three steps ahead of you," she said, and kissed him again. His senses might have just been confused then, but he thought he tasted coffee on her lips.
"So where were you going?" she asked.
"Out," he said. She looked bored, and he added, "For a walk."
"Now?"
"Why not?"
"You were sneaking out," she guessed.
"Maybe."
"How'd you get in here? The door didn't chime."
"I didn't use the door."
"Any of them?"
He hadn't expected that response. "Nope."
"There's more than you think."
He paused. "How—"
She cut him off. "That's right, ask."
She smirked at him, and he tightened his arms around her, pulling her in so close she had to bend backwards slightly to compensate for balance. She squirmed once, discovered he really wasn't going to let her go, and became quite pliant in his arms. The sudden softening of her body turned him on in ways her more aggressive attitude couldn't, and he crushed his lips to hers. The world suddenly seemed insignificant and very far away.
"Jack…" Her fingers toyed with his dreadlocks at the nape of his neck, making his scalp tingle. "We're in public."
"Your fault," he said, the words muffled since he wasn't letting up.
"Coffee's done." She laughed, mouth curving up in a smile against his.
He drew back for just a second. "Sometimes…it's best to just stop talking."
She tried to look indignant…but couldn't do it. They resumed making out.
It was a great stress reliever, he thought hazily. He felt better than he had all day.
Eventually, voices drifting in from the zord bay made them draw apart.
"I should get back to work," Ree said softly.
He didn't answer; he didn't have to. The voice of responsibility trumped all around here. It was just an automatic reaction, as automatic as her tucking her hair behind her ear when there were no stray strands to tuck back.
"Are you still going for a walk?" she asked.
"Yeah. How late are you gonna be up?"
"Honestly?" she sighed. "A while."
"Maybe I'll stop by on my way back in." He shifted a bit. "You know, to say good night and everything."
"It might be morning," she warned, then smiled. "But I'd like that."
"Done."
So Ree went back to the zords and he continued on his way through the walls out into the night.