Disclaimer: The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

BEHIND THE CLOUDS

By Etcetera Kit

Chapter Four: Yellow Roses IV

Syd leaned her chin against her hands, elbows propped on the table. Sighing, she began to twist a stray strand of hair around her fingers. This was Conner and Kira's wedding reception – wasn't she supposed to be having fun? Smoothing down the bodice of her pink bridesmaid's dress, her azure eyes scanned the dance floor. The people down there looked like a rainbow – Kira had made it clear that this was a ranger wedding, so everyone had to wear their colors. It was true, almost all the guests had been rangers at one point in time.g

Her thoughts hadn't been able to settle down since the rehearsal dinner. For some reason, she just couldn't integrate the mental image of party animal Sky with the man she knew and loved. It shouldn't be such a big deal – it was obviously a part of Sky's life that he was not proud of and didn't want to talk about. She should have seen it coming, when Dru asked last year if Sky was still 'wild and wacky.' It was hard to imagine Sky getting drunk and, to a lesser degree, Paris, but it had happened. She remembered the stories that cadets ahead of her told – it wasn't just a party animal group, it was all of them.

She sighed again. Sky was the only member of the B-Squad to turn twenty-one in the past year, although Paris was already making plans for her twenty-first birthday which was in February.

"You look pensive." Her older sister sat down at the empty table with her. "Something the matter? I swear Sky hasn't been near the bar."

"It's not that and you're not funny." Syd paused. What was it then? She glanced at Paris, who was also wearing a pink bridesmaid dress – and had protested loudly every step of the way. She had a brief stint as B-Squad Black Ranger and had wanted a black dress. It was ironic, the way the pair of them had turned out as Pink Rangers.

"I think it is." Paris stopped for a minute, pulling a flower from the centerpiece at the table and tucking it behind her ear. "You just think you don't know him – well, you do. If he doesn't talk about all that past stuff, it's because it's not important. Of all the boys around this place, he's the one I would trust to date you."

"He lied about it."

"He didn't lie – you didn't ask, so he didn't tell. Has he ever flat-out denied that he used to party and go drinking every weekend?"

"No—"

"And it was four years ago – four years!" Paris paused. "Longer than that now. More like five years."

"And your point is?"

"My point is that you can't decide what you want. A couple days ago, you wanted more wild and crazy party stories and today you've convinced yourself that you were lied to." Paris let out a dramatic breath. "When you do figure out what you want, there will be a parade."

"Look who's talking," Syd muttered.

"Hey, I know what I want. I'm going to marry a rock star and own four houses with a full staff who will wait on me hand and foot—"

"Don't you have someone else to torture?"

"No, but I can take a hint. I'll go check out the desert table."

Syd shook her head. She was going to have to ask their parents if they were sure that Paris was related to them. Her dad claimed most of it was because Paris hung out with their Uncle Ryan when she was little. Uncle Ryan was an anthropologist, specializing in demons, possessions and exorcisms. She was still working that one out.

"What's the matter?"

She looked up and watched Sky took Paris' chair. She gave him a brief smile. "Nothing is the matter – why are you guys ganging up on me?"

"Something is wrong," he said. "And I get the feeling it has to do with me."

"I just can't believe that you guys used to party, but no one talks about it."

To her surprise, Sky grinned. "It was what we all did," he replied. "We were not overly bright, but all those drug education, alcohol education, sex ed – none of that was part of our schoolwork. Most of us knew better, but didn't care."

"Did you ever sleep around?" There – she had just admitted to herself and Sky what had really been bothering her. The fact that he partied had nothing to do with it – he and Dru were still the top two cadets in their class despite it.

"No," he replied. "Now that I think about it, we were extremely bored."

Syd reluctantly cracked a smile. "You guys were bored?"

"I said we were bored – I didn't say we were bright."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I just—"

"Don't apologize." He paused and glanced over at Paris, who was now harassing Doctor Oliver by the desert buffet. "Unlike some people, I know that it was stupid." He stood up and offered a hand to her. "May I have this dance?"

Syd smiled fully, stifling a laugh. "Of course." She took his hand and let him lead her out onto the dance floor. A slow song was playing and most of the couples were on the dance floor in each other's arms. Bridge and Z were cuddled in one corner, while Conner and Kira were in the center of the floor, oblivious to everything except each other. Sky's arms were around her waist as she threaded her arms around his neck, laying her head against his shoulder. All the doubts and worries seemed to fade as they swayed to the music. It was safe and secure being in his arms – far away from all their worldly cares.

She thought to some of the things that only a select group knew about Sky. He could dance, didn't like to admit to it. And he could play the piano. Both of those had been things his father made him learn, claiming he would thank him for it later. He could cook – a necessity owing to the fact that it had just been him and his dad growing up. Slightly lactose intolerant, he could handle dairy products in small doses (like on a pizza or in pasta), but wouldn't eat ice cream because it made his stomach hurt. Her and Bridge had him helping them with their music auditions for the show, since he did have an ear for music.

There was so much more to him than he let others see.

"How much longer until the baby's born?" she asked softly.

He snorted. "Any day now," he replied.

"You don't sound excited."

"Were you at that baby shower?" He paused. "I guess it was a necessary evil. Jen wanted to stay here with Wes… and me. It was the most logical and surefire way to make sure Time Force granted her request."

"Did they ever decide on a name?"

"Gemma Marie," he replied. "She's going to need a nickname." He fell silent for a moment. "And Taylor and my dad are getting married in February," he trailed off with a sigh. "It just seems like everything is changing so fast."

"Don't feel bad," she replied. "You were at the last Mitchell family reunion."

He looked thoughtful. "I got hit in the head with a Frisbee and one of your great aunts spent the whole picnic hitting on me – I see your point."

"And let's not forget the hall event that Paris planned for us where Uncle Ryan is going to come in and purify people's rooms." She shook her head. "How did she manage to recruit you for the show?"

"She'll have everyone recruited by the time things are all said and done."

"This is true." Syd lifted her head from his shoulder and accepted a soft, open-mouthed kiss from him.

Trent leaned back in his chair at the reception. Weddings were fun – all the ones he had been invited to were. It was the celebration of a new phase in a couple's life. However, he had never pictured that couple to be Conner and Kira. If someone had mentioned that in high school, he would have laughed. His reasoning would be that the wedding would be like watching a train wreck – so horrific that one could not tear their gaze away.

The reception was winding down. Madeline and Christina, Conner's girls, were staying with Conner's brother, Eric, while the newlyweds were on their brief honeymoon. Most of the guests outside the SPD rangers had already made their excuses and were heading home. The dance floor was sparsely populated with mostly established couples.

It was a scene that he felt he couldn't take part of. He had been successful in his own right – saw cadets every day that read his comics. A couple of art galleries housed his paintings and drawings – some people even commissioned him to do portraits. When he had been away from art, he had worked in the human resources department of Anton Mercer Industries. His adopted father was still going strong, but Trent knew that he hadn't quite given up on the idea of him taking over one day.

The main table for the wedding party was long and at the front of the room. He had angled his chair around one end. His fingers itched as he realized he wanted to draw. His eyes fell on the lone figure at the opposite end of the table. Paris was scribbling something on a paper napkin, stopping every so often to think. He pulled a fountain pen from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and found an unused paper napkin. Her hair was slipping out of its French braid and she had a flower tucked behind her ear. Perfect…

Without thinking, he began to sketch her like that, hunched over the napkin, deep in concentration about something. He glanced up every so often and caught Austin taking a seat next to Paris. He didn't know her twin as well as he knew her.

"Two minutes ago you were terrorizing people by the desert bar." Austin shook his head. "You sure are schizo."

"For your information, I'm working on the rehearsal schedule for Chicago."

"Oh yeah?" He looked interested. "So how are the plans for auditions coming?"

"Think Doctor O would notice if I blackmailed people into auditioning?" She sighed. "I don't know if I'm going to get enough people to cast the show."

The twins were mirrors of each others. It was amazing how, despite being different genders, they had the same facial features, hair color and texture, eye color and a similar build. Austin was taller than Paris, but not by a lot. Without thinking, he began to sketch Austin into the drawing as well – it made a great picture.

The pair was gazing out at the dance floor. Austin shook his head. "Sometimes I don't know about Syd dating Sky."

"Oh come on – there's worse guys out there."

"I know. It doesn't stop me from worrying."

"Did you have an ulcer when you were separated from us by a galaxy because you couldn't be an overprotective watchdog?"

"Sort of." He paused. "Remember when you got sent to that school…"

Paris grimaced. "How could I forget? And it wasn't a school – it was a combination of prison and boot camp."

"That scared me. Syd and I couldn't visit or write… or anything. All we had was their unreliable word that you were all right."

Trent tore his attention away from the sketch and their conversation. He didn't want to listen in on something that was obviously private. The twins were twenty – but it seemed like they had been through much more than anyone else that age. It was that way with all of them – all the kids who had been kidnapped or hidden. At twenty, he had been in art college, up to his ears in paint, clay and charcoal. He had permanently paint-spattered clothes and ink-stained hands – and he had loved every moment of it.

He couldn't help but think that it might be good for most of these kids to leave SPD for a while and go to college, study something they liked, get a degree… there was so much more to the world than being a ranger and SPD. Each of them deserved to go out there and find out what they really loved.

"Sky!" Paris was yelling. "I need to know when you have night shift!"

"Can't stop drawing for a minute, can you?"

Trent glanced up as Ethan pulled up the chair next to him. It was odd sharing an apartment with Ethan, but worked out well since neither of them were particularly neat and didn't mind clutter all over the place. As long as the couch was clear, that was all that mattered.

"Nope," he replied with a smile.

"Think this play is going to kill us?" Ethan nodded towards Paris, who had stopped harassing Sky when he promised to get her his schedule by tomorrow morning.

"That is the question." Trent paused. "I need to know what kind of budget we're on before I can finalize any set designs."

"I hear that – I haven't had a chance to inventory any of the equipment. I have a feeling we're going to need new lights and sound equipment, especially since this is a musical."

The current A-Squad Green Ranger couldn't help but feel that it was a little ambitious for a first show to kick-start the drama department. From what he knew of Chicago, it was going to involve a lot more than tame love ballads and tap numbers. "Who does she plan on choreographing all of this?" he asked.

"You've got me there." Ethan shrugged. "Then again, it's not really my business. I'm just the technical director." He shook his head. "We've got to get a budget, because I need to coordinate most of this stuff with you."

He nodded in commiseration. A choreographer was going to be a problem, since he couldn't think of anyone at SPD that danced professionally at all. They would also need a music director – the canned music would help with that. This was proving to be a massive undertaking that would occupy most of them until the November run of the show.

Glancing back to Paris, he saw that she and Kira were talking about something. He let out a long breath. Why her? Why now?

Conner blinked as he sat down at the main table with Kira, mentally checking to make sure he had done all the things he needed to before taking off. He had submitted the A-Squad's training schedule for the next two weeks so that no one had to worry about it. Ethan was going to be in charge next week, because being the Blue Ranger made him second-in-command. All he was going to have to do was corral Trent and Paris. And he had made sure that they didn't have training sessions at the crack of dawn.

Eric, his brother, and his wife were taking the girls for the week – something both of them were excited about since his brother spoiled them rotten. They had already left the reception and he was dropping the girls off at their house before catching his plane tomorrow. Aside from dodging Paris and her proposals to get involved with the show, he couldn't see what else needed to be done. And, as he had told Paris many times, he didn't have the extra time to work on the show, because he was in charge of getting the sports started up.

"You're thinking too hard," Kira said.

He grinned sheepishly. "It's hard letting go."

"It's just a week – and I'm sure things will fall apart without you."

Conner glowered at her. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. He fought the urge to roll his eyes – she did this to egg him on. He had spent his initial time as a ranger at SPD with four of the B-Squad members and had become overprotective of them. Even now, with most of the former Dino Rangers on his team, it was hard to leave them. The first time around as rangers, he had cared about all of them – just had a weird way of showing it.

Of course, with Ethan in charge, he was just as likely to declare a holiday week where they slept in and watched movies during training. Ethan, Trent and Paris were eerily similar when they decided to revolt and do something fun.

"No," he grumbled. "But they get to play soccer while I'm stuck in art galleries."

Kira shoved his arm. "What's wrong with art galleries?"

"Nothing!" he said quickly. "I just—"

"Don't even go there."

Most of the wedding guests had left – the only people left were the rangers and Doctor Oliver. It was apropos – they were a family. Being a ranger drew odd people together and forced them to get along and function as a group. There were biological family members and then there were ranger family members.

"Should we head out?" Conner asked.

Kira nodded. "These guys need to get back. I know some of them have patrol shifts tomorrow."

"And the boys' have a floor meeting?"

"Again?"

"Something about Light-Ball in the corridors and someone with a black eye."

She stifled a laugh. "Things are never dull around here."

He let his glance go to the dance floor. The only ones out there with any sort of rhythm were Sky and Z – both of which were attempting to pound some rhythm into the others. Snatches of conversation before revealed that Paris and Syd had taken some ballet when they had been younger in an attempt to make them graceful (Austin had been in Little League.) Sky actually had taken professional ballroom and swing dancing for a long time. Bridge and Z had no dance lessons, but Z didn't need them.

Shaking his head, he stood up. "Let's go. This bunch could entertain themselves for hours."

"Thanks again for the ride."

"Not a problem – I like you guys."

Z leaned into Bridge's embrace in the backseat of Paris' car. Austin was sitting shotgun. She felt her eyes drooping shut, but she couldn't remember the last time she had had as much fun. Who knew that weddings were that much fun?

The world whipped past. The reasons surrounding Paris' car were hazy, but Syd had said that she made a deal with her Uncle Ryan. He was footing the insurance bill while she made the car payments. Once the car was paid off, she would take over the insurance. The car was five years old, an ugly plum purple shade and looked ready to fall apart, but, surprisingly, ran well. Turtle Cove was twenty minutes from Newtech, so Z and her parents hadn't seen a need for her to get a car.

"Don't you like Syd?" Austin asked innocently.

"When she's not irritating me."

"That's most of the time."

She met Bridge's gaze. Paris cared a lot more about Syd than she would let anyone else believe. She had listened to more tales of woe than any siblings had a right to. In fact, to hear Paris talk, everyone annoyed her. She shook her head.

All the wedding planning had made her think about her own future. For a long time, she hadn't been able to think much further ahead than the next hour or day, but now… she wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Oh – she could stay with SPD. She had already earned her G.E.D. while working here. Newtech University offered discounted classes to SPD personnel. But what would she do at college? Again, she didn't know.

But she wanted Bridge with her though. The pair of them was only eighteen, but so much had happened that cemented their relationship. This could last for a long time. Marriage and kids were still a long way off – all their talk about that had been flippant, but had some meaning. Bridge's younger brother was two months old.

She shivered, thinking back to her life on the streets. Why did those memories come to haunt her when she felt the happiest? She desperately wanted to forget the cold, the pain, the isolation, the people who hurt her, used her… but she couldn't.

How can I have a future if I live in the past?

Bridge's blue eyes were giving her a questioning look. She gave him a brief smile. He would always be there for her – he was her anchor, her rock, what kept her grounded in the here and now. She loved him so much…

"So, what do you guys say? You up for root beer floats at my apartment?"

She snapped to attention, realizing she had missed most of the conversation Paris and Austin had been having. "Sure," Bridge replied, squeezing her hands. And he loved her…

To Be Continued...

Author's Note: Since it's been a Star Wars-y kind of week and I live on the Star Wars floor of my dorm, I'll leave you guys with one message: May the Force be with you.