Disclaimer: Thanks to Red, Adri, Tigger, and WhiteZeo for discussion of ninja history and the holographic entryway. Buena Vista owns the Power Rangers.
by Starhawk
Hunter was lurking.
He tried to ignore it. He'd been trying to ignore it for the better part of an hour, actually. Ever since Hunter's Power signature had shown up on the security monitor outside the entrance to Ninja Ops, he had pretended it wasn't there. The Crimson Ranger wasn't moving, either to come in or to depart, and there was no logical explanation for his presence.
It might have been easier to accept during the day. The Rangers were in and out all day long, to hang out, to annoy him, and even, on rare occasions, to practice or train. Frequent monster attacks necessitated their return as often as not, but again, usually during the daylight hours. Now it was...
Cam checked the clock: past midnight. Now it was past midnight, and there was Hunter, outside Ninja Ops. The only explanation Cam could come up with was that he was waiting for something--or someone--and he was tempted to see how long the Crimson Ranger would linger.
But he had been tempted since Hunter first showed up, and yet there he still was. Lurking.
With a sigh, Cam pushed his chair back and got to his feet. He stretched his hands up over his head, rotating his shoulders and swinging his arms behind him. He hadn't really needed to work so late, but it drew a person in. Eventually, one got to a point where it was easier to just keep going than to stop and do anything else.
He crossed the room and headed up the stairs, surprised when cool air greeted him as he stepped outside. It was chillier than he had expected, and he hugged his arms across his chest as he glanced around. Hunter's Power signature had been clearer on the monitor than his form would be in the darkness...
He had half expected the Crimson Ranger to startle him. He even braced himself against it, knowing that every step he took into the night put him deeper into Hunter's territory. The other Ranger's vision would be long adjusted to the dark, and Hunter had the advantage of knowing exactly where Cam would emerge.
The night remained still and silent around him. He breathed out, whether in relief or exasperation or disappointment, he didn't know. He waited for the light shadows to dissipate from his eyes, impatient with the quiet. If Hunter was anywhere nearby, he had to have heard Cam's footsteps, but still there was no movement, no acknowledgement of any kind.
He turned slowly, trying to pierce the darkness with eyes that were slowly, slowly starting to make use of the starlight. These were shapes and shadows he knew, even by night, and he knew which ones were supposed to be there and which were not. Even after the attack, he had reacquainted himself with the grounds quickly enough that he could tell what he was looking at.
There was a shadow some twenty paces away that shouldn't be there. It was about the right distance for the security monitor to have put it at the entrance, and Cam picked his way in that direction. The ground was taking longer to learn than the shadows, and it was slow going in the darkness.
As he approached, though, he realized where Hunter was. The Crimson Ranger was kneeling in front of what had once been the reflecting pool, at the base of a stone monument that hadn't survived the attack. A monument to ninja masters that had come before--it was one thing that would stay the same from school to school.
Cam felt suddenly guilty for assuming Hunter was here to see him. He was silent for a moment, considering the motionless form in front of him. Then a breeze ghosted across his bare arms, and he shivered. Turning away as quietly as he could, he hadn't taken more than a single step before Hunter's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Cam?" The Crimson Ranger sounded distant and not particularly curious. But he probably did owe an explanation of some sort.
"Yeah," he said awkwardly, turning back. He hesitated, then offered, "I saw you on the security monitor."
"I figured." There was a hint of amusement in Hunter's voice, and finally he looked around. Only his head moved, pale hair glowing white in the minimal light. "There's only so long you can stare at the water before you start thinking about other things."
Cam refrained from pointing out that that was exactly what the reflecting pool was for, and the point of the exercise was not to think about other things. "Like what?" he asked, in spite of himself.
"Sensei."
The answer surprised him, though in retrospect he supposed it shouldn't have.
"Our sensei, I mean," Hunter continued. His tone was still contemplative as he listed off his thoughts with terse words. "The bad guys. That damn ship. You."
About to join him in front of the pool, Cam stopped abruptly. "Me?"
"Everyone," Hunter corrected. "All the Rangers."
Cam dropped down beside Hunter, considering that. Nothing insightful sprang to mind, so he chose the safe route instead. "That's a lot to think about."
Hunter sounded wry. "I've been here a long time."
Cam smiled, knowing the darkness would hide his expression from Hunter. The chill whispered in beneath his crossed arms, and his grip tightened involuntarily. He clenched his jaw against the cool air, wondering whether Hunter planned to stay out here the rest of the night.
"Cold?" It wasn't really a question, and he couldn't help being annoyed that Hunter had noticed. The other Ranger shifted, his jacket rustling before Cam realized what he meant to do.
"No," he said firmly. "I'm fine. Don't--"
"Hey, let me be the macho one this time, okay?" Hunter overrode him, ignoring his protests and managing to sound irritated as he swung his jacket over Cam's shoulders. "Just calm down already."
"I am calm," Cam snapped, glancing down automatically as Hunter tugged the jacket around in front of him. He caught the edges of the jacket himself, if only to get Hunter to let go and back off. "I just don't--"
He lifted his head and found Hunter staring back at him, the annoyance that glinted in his eyes already fading from his face. For a long moment, they just looked at each other. Hunter leaned forward incrementally, then paused, the action somehow surreal in the darkness.
"I'm gonna kiss you," he muttered, searching for something in Cam's gaze.
Cam swallowed, surprised by the warning. "I figured."
The corner of Hunter's mouth lifted, and it occurred to Cam that if he could see Hunter's expression then Hunter could certainly see his own. Then Hunter was close again, too close for comfort, mouth pressed against Cam's and his fingers curling over the zippered edges of his jacket. He wasn't going anywhere.
Cam didn't even try to push him away. The kiss was careful, restrained, nothing like the spontaneous heat of their contact on the practice mats. He told himself not to think about that, indeed had been doing a decent job of not thinking of it for days now. But when Hunter got this close, and especially when he lingered, the way he was doing now...
Hunter's hands loosened on his, drawing back too soon--not soon enough. He had no idea. He didn't know what he expected, let alone whether anything Hunter offered could measure up. But something about it made him feel good... different. Special.
Great. He tried not to sneer inwardly. Now he needed someone else to make him feel "special". That was just great.
Why was it all right to feel this way about girls, but not about guys?
"So," Hunter said quietly, interrupting his private confusion. "You going to the bike rally this weekend?"
His practical brain took over, banishing all thought of feeling and "special"-ness to someplace where it wouldn't interfere with his ability to think. In point of fact, he hadn't planned to go. He knew all the other Rangers would be there, which as far as he was concerned would keep them out of his hair and give him time to work without interruption.
On the other hand, if Hunter was going to ask...
"Maybe," he said at last. "Why?"
"Cool." Hunter sounded satisfied. "I'll get you a pit pass."
Cam tried to sigh, but it turned into a yawn. Hunter had the nerve to chuckle, and Cam did his best to glare at him. It might have been more convincing if he wasn't stifling another yawn and still shivering from the cold at the same time.
"Do me a favor," Hunter added, an odd note in his voice. "Get some sleep instead of going back to work, okay?"
Cam frowned at him, not amused by the order no matter how it was worded. "I already have a dad," he said sharply.
"Then you're lucky," Hunter retorted, and Cam wished he could take the words back. "I'm just saying, you're a lot harder to deal with when you're sarcastic and stressed out and tired than you are when you're just sarcastic and stressed out."
Cam opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally he muttered, "The fact that I'm starting to think your jokes are funny can't be a good sign."
"You're just tired," Hunter told him.
Cam smiled a little. He watched as Hunter unfolded himself from the ground, then belatedly followed suit. They were left with the awkward moment of goodbye, neither of them really knowing how to handle it or what to say.
"You be around tomorrow afternoon?" Hunter asked abruptly.
Cam grimaced, the lateness of the hour finally catching up with him. "This afternoon, you mean?"
"Yeah." Hunter apparently took that for assent, because he added, "I'll stop by with a pit pass for Saturday. Let me know if you want to ride."
Cam just rolled his eyes at that. "I'll be here."
"'Night," Hunter offered, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he backed away.
Cam lifted his head in acknowledgement, realized Hunter might not be able to see him in the darkness, and echoed his deliberately casual good-night. He watched as the Crimson Ranger faded into the shadows, listened to his footsteps recede after the visible outline was gone. It wasn't until the portal flashed behind him that it occurred to Cam that he was still wearing Hunter's jacket.
He stood frozen in place, undecided. He could go after Hunter, but it was late and he was cold and tired. He could just keep the jacket until tomorrow, but if Hunter didn't come alone he'd be keeping it longer than he thought. And then there was his dad... but even as a guinea pig, his dad kept pretty regular hours. He'd probably been asleep hours ago.
That rationale got him all the way back into Ninja Ops before it collapsed. There was his dad after all, standing beside the computer--directly under the security monitor. And looking, it seemed, more than a little disapproving. Sometimes Cam thought his dad displayed more expression as a guinea pig than he had as a human.
"Hello, Cam." His tone was level and calm, as usual. But the impression of a frown did not abate.
Torn between indignation and embarrassment, Cam demanded, "Were you spying on me?"
"I was not." Those three words rebuked him for even considering the idea, but then his father added, "Is there something you would like to discuss with me?"
"Like what?" he shot back. It was late, and he couldn't think of anything more innocuous than that.
"I do not know. It is your own defensiveness that suggests there is something to be addressed."
Cam really didn't feel like playing this game right now. "There's not," he said shortly. "I'm going to bed."
His father didn't mention the biker jacket, the security monitor, or his own unexplained presence in the command center so late at night. He just inclined his head and said gravely, "Good night, Cam."
He walked the length of his room under his father's curious gaze. Cam muttered a "good night" as he passed, and he was allowed to leave without further interrogation. He wondered, as he made his way to the privacy of his room, just how long this grace period would last.
fin
