Disclaimer: I do not own the Power Rangers they belong to Saban entertainment. This story contains graphic content. Not suitable for kids. This is a different reality, where Kimberly has visions of the future, and Jason is more like a rebel. Jason and Kimberly went to New York after high school to go to College.
A Million Picture
by ButterflyAngel2
I've dreamt sometimes that I come from somewhere else entirely. I mean, I wasn't born in New York like everyone else I know--I was born in some weird town in California called Angel Grove--but it's more than that. I have these dreams of floating over a town, watching people.
They have strange names--who on earth is called Rita or Zed?--and I think sometimes that it's Angel Grove, but everyone's dressed really awfully and it's not the Angel Grove I remember. Worst of all, the air seems filled with something. Evil, I think.
The same sort of evil that's in the woods. And I wonder about that--what the evil is and if I can ever go somewhere it's not lingering outside of my driveway.
"It wasn't supposed to happen," a voice whispers.
"What?"
"You know what. He's coming."
"Who is coming?"
"You shouldn't be here," the voice says. "He's got Aisha and he'll get you. You shouldn't be here."
"What's going to happen to Aisha?" I ask. "Who is he?"
"You'll see."
That's when I wake up, hearing this almost-voice say--
"I wish that I--"
It doesn't make any sense, but it's not like I'm the first or last girl in New York to have strange dreams. In fact, it's weirder not to be crazy than it is to be crazy here and I take great comfort in that.
My best friend is crazy. I love Jason, but this is a demonstrable fact. He doesn't do things like anyone else and sometimes I get worried, but Jason can take care of himself. I've been best friends with Jason since I was eight--I know the score on him.
The pictures tell sort of a scary story. A dangerous story, though at first it looks like a good story--me and Jason in almost matching outfits for Halloween. Me and Jason in tennis outfits, smiling for the camera. At summer camp. In costume for the eighth grade play. Always smiling, always hugging or holding hands or doing something that required lots of touching. We shared everything--first kisses, first dates, first everything.
We didn't have a lot of other friends, see. Jason's crazy and I had too many weird dreams about a future where I was a different girl, a girl from the future who wished herself into the past. Our fathers were both too rich and too weird and both of our mothers just didn't function day-to-day. No one else wanted to understand what that was like and so we were a little group apart.
When I was fifteen, Chad Briggs tried to go way too far with me. I decked him--gave him a sweet black eye--and he got ugly with the rumors. Jason and I didn't talk for a week because he was sure I'd told him as much. Of course, then he found out it was because Chad had crossed the line and everything was forgiven and forgotten.
Back to normal, you might say. Whatever normal is? It was just another night in Jason's room in the Great Northern part of New York, lying on the bed, smoking stolen cigarettes and wearing pajamas that were far too big for him. Talking about what to wear to the next dance, who was sleeping with whom, Zack's wildness, Trini's anorexia. Jason kept touching me, trying to get a rise out of me. It had already led to two tickle fights and the air--
"The air is seriously intoxicating tonight," Jason said, taking a long drag off his cigarette.
Just another night.
"I had another one of my dreams," I said about midnight, snuggling deep into Jason's bed with its down comforter and perfect mattress. Jason laughed.
"And so did I," he replied, rubbing up next to me and giving me a quick hug that ended up lasting much longer than it should have. "Well--what was yours?"
"That dreamers often lie," I replied with a slightly drunken, slightly hysterical giggle, pressing my cheek against my best friend's.
"In bed--" Jason leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "Asleep, while they do dream of things true."
I turned over and looked at him, shivering. My fingers were pressed to my lips and I stared at him, seeing the same strange shiver in Jason's eyes. It made me feel better somehow to see that whatever I was feeling, he felt it, too.
"You're just like your father," I said in a low voice, rubbing my leg over Jason's bare one. "You love that poetry stuff."
"My father--" Jason put his hand on my stomach and began tracing teasing patterns through the skimpy material-- "Is a dirty old man who looks down your dress when you come over for dinner."
"Like father--" I set my hand atop Jason's and guided it up toward my breast-- "Like son."
Jason laughed and blushed, but he also started rubbing my breast. "Do you want to?"
"Just practice," I whispered into ear, feeling compelled to lick the earlobe for good measure. "After all, one day we're going to be grown-up and do you really think those big lumps at the college are going to show us how to do it right?"
Jason's crazy and he also knows what he wants. He squeezed my breast with his hand and then climbed on top of me, looking shamelessly at the way I gasped and arched up. I was tingling everywhere and I was dry at the mouth.
"Are you kidding?" he asked, running his hand across my cheek and stopping to set a finger on my lips. I pulled it into my mouth and slowly started sucking it. "They couldn't figure out what makes me tick if the coach diagrammed it for them step--by--step."
I was getting wet between my legs. I had to kiss him immediately, so I reached up and pulled his face to mine for a short kiss.
"Exactly," I murmured as he pulled away and pushed up my pajama top. "It would be a waste of our time."
"You're very right," Jason whispered, rocking his hips into mine insistently and sliding my pajama top all the way off. I was dizzy and hot. I wanted him to touch me in the worst way.
He reached down and his lips met mine, wet, warm and feverish. His tongue parted my teeth and swirled against mine, and the rest of my skin was shivering at the way he rubbed against me while we were kissing. I kept clutching at his back because I didn't want him to stop. Finally, Jason pulled away, leaving me wet, dazed and gasping.
"You taste good," he said as he pulled his pajama bottoms off. "Like--cherry lip gloss. I like that. He leaned down and kissed his way up my jaw line to my earlobe, which he pulled into his mouth and bit down on.
I moaned and wrapped my legs around his, pushing my hips into his needily. I was hot and I couldn't think about anything except touching him. I reached down and found his balls and Jason stopped sucking on my earlobe long enough to gasp.
"Mmm," he said, kissing his way down my neck wetly as his hand rubbed up and down my side, stopping at my hip. "I want to--"
Yeah. I wanted to. Too. I wanted to, too and his hips lifted off mine and he was trying to move away and his hand was suddenly
"Oh!" I said, feeling his fingers there. "Oh. Oh."
Oh. "What's wrong, you never had anyone touch you there?"
"As a matter of fact--"
"You're joking, right?" he asked his voice breathy and hot against my ear as I squirmed and bucked like crazy. "You've done this to yourself, right?"
"Not as good as this," I gasped as one of Jason's free fingers found my most sensitive--my clitoris--and started rubbing. "ooooooooooh--"
"Yeah," he whispered, sliding inside of me.
He was pumping in and out of me and if any of the boys had tried this, I would have punched them out but with Jason it was it was it was wow oh wow oh wow, how did he know what to do so that it felt so good.
"We should practice more often," Jason said, the words sounding less advisory with the harsh, ragged gasps overlaying the words. I couldn't think. He was babbling but all I wanted was for him to never stop touching me.
"Harder," I said, and he did exactly what I said. Jason touched me just right and I screamed.
"Oh, oh my god, wow. Wow. Wow."
Jason fell into me, his head heavy and comfortable against my shoulder as my body felt like it was--I don't know, made of sparkles, energy all over and I was high on it, loving every tiny second of it as I started feeling less tingly and more solid again. This was nothing except great and for once in my life I felt like there wasn't anything waiting to get me outside the door.
"Mmm," Jason hummed into my skin, sweaty and soft-focus and almost real. "Like that?"
"Mmm-hmm," I said. I remembered what I'd wished. I'd wished to be found by someone who would love me. And here I was.
I kissed his hair, running a hand down his arm. All the craziness had led me to the right place. That was kind of nice, all sorts of scary things considered. And I was getting all hot and bothered again.
"Jason?" I whispered, teasing the outside curve of his breast and enjoying the feel of the skin.
"Yeah?"
"My turn."
"Okay," he said. I'm from somewhere else entirely, but there is nowhere I'd rather be than here.