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

BEHIND THE CLOUDS

By Etcetera Kit

Chapter Nine: Shadows I

Year 2021 - October

"What?" Even to her own ears, her voice sounded like a screech. Z couldn't believe it – wouldn't believe it. Doctor Oliver couldn't possibly be thinking of sending two of them into that place, couldn't possibly be thinking of sending A-Squad rangers…

Austin was starting to look a little sorry that he had let the information spill at all. He clutched his data pad to his chest and took a step backward, edging for the door of the lounge. Bridge frowned at her, not sure what the big deal was. He didn't know about this. He had a general knowledge of her past, but he didn't know specifics, didn't know about that place, didn't know what had happened to her there.

"I'm going to go find Sky and Syd," Austin said slowly, before he bolted out the door.

Z rolled her eyes – Austin tended to think that outbursts in general were directed at him. Where he got that particular personality trait from was up for debate. Z leaned back against the couch as Bridge continued to frown at her.

"He can't be sending rangers there," she muttered.

"Z," Bridge replied. "The person they're trying to arrest is in charge of several drug rings. Why shouldn't he send his best officers in there?"

She sighed. "Because he doesn't know – they don't know. The men there won't hesitate to kill them if they find out they're SPD and not whores."

"Z, I don't see why—"

She stood up. "I've got to go talk to Doctor Oliver. Maybe he can call off this assignment." She hurried from the lounge, ignoring the fact that Bridge had been about to say something, probably something reasonable. Z was beyond reason. There was no way she wanted to see more of her few friends maimed or killed at the hand of that… that… whorehouse! The few friends she had on the streets were dead because of it – and she did not want to see Paris and Kira join their ranks. Kira had just gotten married! She had a husband and two stepdaughters that adored her! It wasn't fair to put her life in jeopardy.

The command center was silent as she entered. A couple of officers were monitoring various things – and the person she wanted was nowhere to be found. Of course, that shouldn't surprise her. He tended to have a lot of briefings on undercover assignments in his personal quarters. She turned to the nearest person.

"Where's the commander?"

The officer motioned to his quarters. She didn't bother to thank the officer – most people tried to avoid making the ranger squads unhappy. Ordinarily, she would have stopped to thank the person, but too much was happening today.

Not stopping to knock or announce herself, she walked into his quarters. Paris and Kira were seated on one of the couches, studying some holographic layouts. Doctor Oliver was talking about entering through one of the corridors and pointing out various exits. All of them stopped dead when she burst in.

"You can't send them in there," she said pointblank.

Their commander took one glance at her before turning back to Kira and Paris. "I've downloaded the rest of the information into your morphers. We'll have another briefing before you go in – come to me with any questions." The female A-Squad rangers nodded and made their way out of the room. Paris had a neutral expression on her face, while Kira looked concerned that Z was this upset.

"Sit down, Evans," Doctor Oliver said, motioning to the couch. Z glared at him, but flopped down onto the offered seat. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Now why can't I send Kira and Paris on this assignment?"

Z opened her mouth to speak, but realized how ridiculous all her arguments would sound. She was breaking a key rule in being any sort of police officer – she was letting her emotions overrule her mind. "They'll die," she whispered.

"Do you know that for a fact?" Doctor Oliver's tone was sympathetic.

"No," she replied, her voice sounding smaller and smaller by the moment. "I've worked at that place before – it's not friendly. You're only hope is to get thrown out before someone decides to kill you."

Doctor Oliver nodded. "I know that – that's why we have to make this arrest. It will start to dismantle their chain of command."

"It's too dangerous!" she insisted.

"We're cops – everything we do is dangerous."

"Send me – or one of the boys! Don't send them!"

"Don't send them because they're women or because they don't know what they're getting into?" The question was serious.

"I don't know."

"Z," he said kindly. "I have no doubts that this assignment will be a success. Paris has no problems throwing grenades into buildings to save the integrity of a mission. I already got a detailed lesson on how to make a last minute Molotov cocktail." He shook his head. "If there is anyone who can do this, it's Paris." A smile tugged at his lips. "And she'll probably distribute some feminist information while she's at it."

"It's just that—"

"Your fears are not ungrounded," he interrupted. "Right now, I need you to be supportive of the mission – offer any advice you can." He gave her a meaningful look. "We are professionals, Z. We do the job we're being paid to do. I can't imagine that you want that particular ring to continue festering."

"No," she admitted.

"And the B-Squad has the weekend off. Concentrate on having fun this weekend and don't worry about Paris and Kira." Doctor Oliver gave her a concerned look. "What are your plans for this weekend?"

"I don't have any yet."

Doctor Oliver just shook his head. "Don't worry about this, Z. What I need you to do right now is give any information you might have to Paris and Kira."

Z nodded and left the room.

"You know, the last undercover assignment I went on was at an office building. This is so much more fun than business suits and heels." Paris leaned closer to the mirror to apply yet another layer of mascara. "I always did like undercover missions."

Kira just shook her head at her teammate. Paris had an interesting definition of fun. However, it wasn't Paris' flippant attitude towards the assignment that was bothering her. She glanced to the couch in Paris' apartment. Z was huddled in the corner, looking more and more miserable as they came closer to being ready to go. She looked like she had spent a fair amount of time crying from her red, blotchy face. She clutched a green stuffed dinosaur to her chest in a death grip. All in all, she looked horrible.

The A-Squad Yellow Ranger turned back to the mirror, inspecting her own make-up. Like Paris, she was wearing too much and they did look like whores. Paris was wearing denim cut-offs with black fishnets and a black halter top. Stiletto heels and a huge purse completed her ensemble. She had on a pair of black bike-shorts with a yellow sports' bra. Her own shoes were a pair of beat-up flip-flops with jewels. Their hairstyles were purposely meant to appear all over the place, like they spent a lot of time on the streets.

She watched idly as Paris went to her jewelry box and began extracting her gaudiest pieces of jewelry. This assignment was by no means easy or going to be fun – no early Halloween party for them. However, she found herself enjoying the preparation process. Paris went on most of the undercover assignments with a male member of the squad – the last one had been her and Conner in that office building. And, if she and Paris succeeded in this, it was likely that Tommy would make them the permanent undercover hit team for the A-Squad.

Z sniffled. Kira finished putting a large pair of hoop earrings in, before sitting next to her, her arm going around the younger woman. "It's all right," she reassured her. "We're going to be fine. Have you seen the contents of Paris' purse?"

That got a small smile out of the B-Squad Yellow Ranger.

Paris left the bedroom and went out into the main area of her apartment. The SPD apartments came with one, two or three bedrooms. The three-bedroom apartments were reserved for families – she and Conner had one. Paris had a one-bedroom apartment. Besides the one bedroom and the bathroom, the rest was efficiency, the living room, dining room and kitchen all in one space.

The A-Squad Pink Ranger came back into the room with a glass of water. "Don't get dehydrated," she said to Z as the younger girl took the glass.

Kira would never fail to be amazed at how young Paris and the rest of the B-Squad were. Sky was the oldest at twenty-one, while the twins came in a year behind at twenty. Syd was nineteen and Z and Bridge were eighteen. They were barely old enough to vote and most of them weren't old enough to drink.

"Thanks," Z said in a small voice.

"We've got a safe house," Kira continued talking to Z. "That's where we'll be staying at night – Doctor O is sending in some 'clients' who will be looking for us." She smoothed down Z's hair. "If all goes well, we'll be able to make the arrest by Sunday."

"I know."

"And with what you've told us, this should go even smoother."

"Yeah." Z still looked depressed.

"Good grief, we're not going to die!" Paris called as she double-checked the contents of the voluminous purse. "I already have one set of parents, an uncle and a grandfather who worry about that constantly. I don't need anyone else!"

"What did your mother say about this?" Z asked.

"Oh – she said, good luck, be careful and stay away from the drugs."

The look on Z's face clearly said that she thought Paris' entire family was demented. Kira inwardly seconded that. The Graysons were all extremely close – though Carter and Dana tended to be a little understated when it came to their opinion of their children's occupation. She could see Carter's reaction to Paris' news – 'oh that's nice dear' and then he would ask if she wanted something to eat. The other thing about that family was that Carter was the cook – no one ate Dana's cooking if they could avoid it.

"My dad sent some cookies and stuff," Paris continued like her mother's advice was nothing out of the ordinary. "They're in the fridge if you guys want them sometime this weekend." She paused. "Although Syd and my illustrious brother are going home this weekend, where they'll probably pick up more junk food."

"Thanks," Z said, clearly lost at the change of subject.

"No sweat – you should try some of the fudge. It is heavenly."

Paris turned to her bed and shouldered the huge purse. Her low-riding shorts and halter top showed her tattoo on the small of her back. It was a small dragon done in shades of purple and blue, breathing fire.

"I didn't know you had a tattoo," Z commented.

Paris looked nonchalant. "Yeah," she replied. "Austin and I got them right before he went to the Nebula Academy. His is red and orange."

"Is his in the same place?" Paris nodded. "Does Syd have one?"

"Are you kidding? That girl is afraid of non-medicinal needles." Paris motioned to Kira. Kira took the cue and stood up. "We've got to go check in with Doctor O before we take off. Have fun this weekend!"

Z followed them out of the apartment and went towards the dorms. Kira frowned – she couldn't help but worry about Z. There was so much that the younger Yellow Ranger didn't want to share with anyone. It would lead to a world of hurt before it finally surfaced.

Z walked into her room – glad that Syd was elsewhere and not hanging around their room, doing whatever it was that she did. The B-Squad Yellow Ranger had found Austin in his room along with Sky and Bridge. The three B-Squad males had been engaged in a cutthroat card game of war – and Sky was winning. She supposed that it was the one card game they could play where Bridge wouldn't have some kind of advantage. It was all chance. The three had stopped ribbing each other and given her their undivided attention.

Austin had been speechless at her request to see his tattoo. "How did you know I have a tattoo?" he had sputtered.

"You have a tattoo?" Sky had asked.

"Cool!" Bridge had added.

After warily asking her where she learned about it from, Austin had acquiesced and shown her the tattoo. It was in the same place as Paris' – on the small of his back and it rode just above the waistband of his uniform pants. The dragon was the same as Paris', but his was indeed in shades of red and orange. The dragon looked fierce like it was protecting something from an unknown evil.

Finally, Austin broke down and told the three of them the whole story about the tattoos and what possessed them to get them.

"I was being reassigned to the Nebula Academy," Austin had explained. "I was leaving in September just before Syd would arrive as a new cadet." He took a deep breath. "Paris and I had never been apart for anything long term like we knew this assignment was going to be. So we decided to do something extremely permanent – just to know that we would always have each other."

"What about the rings?" Sky had asked.

"The rings aren't permanent." Austin shrugged. "So we went to this place downtown and got the tattoos done. The dragon we chose is a protector – kind of like we would always protect each other, no matter how far apart we were."

"Did it hurt?" Bridge seemed extremely fascinated by the fact that Austin had a tattoo. Z knew it probably came from the fact that he was terrified of all needles in all forms.

Austin had shrugged. "For a little while. But it was worth it."

Z had left them shortly after that. She still felt raw about the undercover mission – terror acute as anything she had felt was still under the surface. It amazed her that the twins shared such a close bond – that never came forth in their daily interactions. The boys had gone back to their card game with Austin getting the upper hand for once.

She picked up her cell phone and hit the speed dial for her father's work number. Everyone else had plans for this weekend off – Sky was going home, Bridge's aunt and uncle were in town and his family had plans, Austin and Syd were going to Mariner Bay and she was doing nothing. She hoped that her father was actually in his office and not in an appointment.

"Hello?" came her father's voice after the third ring.

"Hi Daddy," she replied.

"Z? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine – can I come home this weekend?"

"Of course! When do you want us to pick you up?"

"Friday afternoon sometime."

There was some shuffling. "My last appointment is at four – but school lets out at three-thirty. Your mom can come get you at about four. Is that all right?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine. I'll see you Friday."

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Z curled up into a ball on her bed, wanting to forget the horrible memories that plagued her, wishing it hadn't happened.

Bridge leaned against the headboard of Z's bed. She was sitting between his legs, her back resting against his chest. From her even breathing, she was either asleep or just really comfortable. His arms were wrapped tightly around her middle. After she left Austin's room earlier that afternoon, he had known she was still upset. He decided to give her some time before looking for her and offering comfort. Z was a solitary person when it came to being upset or in pain. But she needed someone – as much as she didn't want to admit it, she needed people more acutely now than ever.

All he had had to do was come into the room and offer her a silent embrace. She had accepted it without question and, somehow, they ended up in their current position. As much as he depended on her, she depended on him. He knew this – it was the give and take ebb of their relationship. Each knew when the other needed comfort and to be taken care of.

Bridge pressed a kiss to her temple. He wished he could undo what had been done to her in the past. Most of the wounds were still raw and bleeding. There was a reason he always let her initiate sex – he absolutely did not want her to feel like he was taking advantage of her. Their lovemaking was about mutual pleasure – not reliving past scars.

Z shifted, craning her neck so she could see him while still lounging against him. "Hey," she said with a small smile.

"Hey," he echoed, taking advantage of their position to give her a soft, open-mouthed kiss. She smiled as they parted, looking content. "Want to come with me this weekend?" he offered, not wanting her to be alone all weekend.

She shook her head. "That's a family thing."

"You're family," he protested.

"No – not yet at any rate."

"You're family as far as my mother is concerned," he muttered. "And she's made it abundantly clear on more than one occasion that her opinion is the only opinion that counts around our house."

Z snickered. "I like your mom."

"She likes you too." Bridge smiled as Z settled back into her previous position. His parents had moved to Earth a few weeks ago and they were still unpacking their house and getting settled. His younger brother was three months old, making it all the more difficult. However, his mother had friends on Earth – so Ashley Hammond and Kelsey Winslow, both other former Yellow Rangers, were helping out. His father just packed up Jordan and the pair of them stayed out of the way.

Z rolled over so that her chest was pressed against his. She caught his lips in a gentle kiss. "When's rehearsal?" she asked.

Bridge glanced at the clock on her nightstand. "Seven," he replied. Since Paris was off on an undercover assignment, Sky was in charge of tonight's rehearsal. No rehearsals were scheduled for the weekends until closer to the November run of the show. Bridge thought there was a technical rehearsal sometime over the weekend, but that didn't concern him or Z, not yet at any rate.

She swung one leg over his and then the other, so that she was straddling his waist. Her next kiss was more insistent and his body began to react. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked breathlessly. She was upset – did she want this situation to go further?

"I have so many memories of being used – raped," she whispered against his lips. "I want this with you – I want it with pleasure, with love."

Hours later, in the faint afterglow, he studied her body – fully taking in and appreciating the scars on her thighs, wanting to know how she got those. He traced a jagged scar running from her hip to the inside of her thigh, the negative energy associated with it stinging his fingers, causing his eyes to tear up.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear, pulling the blanket over them as he wrapped an arm around her and held her close. He set her alarm for six – so that they would have enough time to get ready for rehearsal.

But his thoughts wouldn't settle. She was asleep, looking more peaceful than she had since finding out about the undercover mission. He kept picturing the hideous scars – knowing that the infliction of each had to have been horrific. He had known about the hurt she suffered, knew about the scars…

The scars might be fading, but the wounds on her soul were fresh as ever.

To Be Continued...

Author's Note: Yeah - the Halloween stuff is in the next section. I think I posted my Halloween story after Halloween last year, so in keeping with tradition, Halloween stuff after the fact. :) Thanks to everyone who reviewed - there was a great outpouring of love for Paris last chapter and that makes me grin. I'm so glad that everyone is appreciating her!