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

BEHIND THE CLOUDS

By Etcetera Kit

Chapter Ten: Shadows II

TGIF – for the first time since being a cadet, Sky could fully appreciate the ramifications of that particular catch phrase. It was Thursday night – their rehearsal was over and he didn't have another rehearsal until Sunday. That was more of a tech thing – Ethan wanted his preliminary opinion on some lighting designs. Friday meant he got to go home and relax for the weekend instead of running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

The rehearsal had actually gone well, despite the fact that Paris was off on an assignment and he had been in charge. The purpose of the rehearsal was to finish choreographing the dance scenes and then practice them. The choreographer, a first year cadet who had been recruited for her extensive ballet, tap and jazz experience, had proceeded to schedule individual rehearsals with the people who had solo dance spots. So, the dance numbers were finished and all that was left to do was rehearse them until they could all do the dance in their collective sleep.

He walked into the lounge and was startled to see Syd there – her arms crossed over her chest like she had been waiting for him. Wracking his brain to think of something that might have made her angry, he made his way to the replicator and got a bottle of water. He hadn't walked back to the dorms with Syd and Bridge after rehearsal since Trent wanted to show him the final set designs and start getting things built. The set crew had a call for all day Saturday where Trent and Ethan expected to get some good progress on the sets.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked in a low voice.

Sky frowned. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"I don't know – maybe because you've been avoiding me for the past two weeks, because you're so busy with the precious show."

"Syd, you're the lead female," he said. She was just as busy with the show as he was – perhaps even more so because she had a part to learn along with songs, choreography and blocking. Overall, he thought the actors had it worse than he did.

"That has nothing to do with it!" she hissed. "You've been spending all your free time with Paris." She spat out her sister's name like it was poison.

"She's the director," he protested.

"And you still haven't told me why you agreed to be the assistant director!"

Sky ran a hand through his hair – so they were back to this. He had thought he successfully avoided telling her why he was so involved with the show. Apparently all the evasiveness had come to nothing. How could he explain to her that he wasn't trying to be untruthful, it was just that her older sister was a manipulative witch? It was just pictures of him at a party before he met Syd – what was he trying to hide?

His silence seemed to be enough of an answer for her.

"That's what I thought."

"You thought what?" Sky asked, confused.

"You've been cheating on me with my sister!"

Syd turned on her heel and stalked out of the lounge. Sky gaped after her for a moment before the full implications of her accusation dawned on him. How could she think that he would be unfaithful? "Syd!" he called, hurrying after her, but she was nowhere to be found. He let out a long breath and sank down into one of the couches in the lounge. He should go after her and explain that he had to spend a lot of time with Paris because of their jobs for the show. But Syd didn't want to hear that, not yet. He knew that, until she calmed down, she wouldn't listen to a single thing he said.

"How does my life get so screwed up?" he muttered to himself.

His thoughts went to the vault in the family mansion in Silver Hills. Since he started dating Syd, he had been saving up money. The result of that scrimping and saving for over a year was stored in the vault – safe until he decided it was time. Had all of the little feelings and intuitions, telling him that this was the woman for him been wrong? No… he loved Syd with every part of his being. She knew that…

Leaping to his feet, he knew that he had to go to her room and make things right with her now. He had to make her see that he wouldn't cheat on her with Paris of all people! The walk to Syd's room seemed longer than normal – and, just as he raised a hand to knock, Z burst out of the room, the doors closing behind her.

"I wouldn't go in there, if I was you," Z said. "She wants to castrate you."

Sky groaned, banging his head against the wall next to the door. He turned around, so that his back was pressed to the wall.

"Did you actually do it?"

"No," he retorted. This was ridiculous.

"I didn't think so," Z replied with a shrug. "She's beyond listening to reason."

"Damn."

"That's the understatement of the year."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Wait a few days, bring her some flowers, fall to your knees and profess your undying love for her and tell her that you would never cheat on her."

"Romance novel much?"

Z gave him a bored look. Sky frowned – noticing that dark smudges under her eyes and the fact that she appeared to have lost some weight. The Yellow Ranger looked exhausted and almost to the point of anemia. Part of him hated being the B-Squad medic, because he focused on these changes in people, but, damn it, he wanted them to stay healthy and, consequently, safe.

"Are you all right?" he asked. His stomach felt like someone had dropped a rock in it after hearing about Syd – he needed to focus on something else or he felt like he might throw up.

"I'm fine," Z replied with a smile that was a little too jovial. "I was just going to get my clothes out of the dryer."

The laundry room for the dorm was in the hall outside the boys' floor. It was large enough that a dozen or so cadets could do laundry without stepping on each other's toes – and it was also large enough that no one had an interest in anyone else's clothing. Then again, there were strict regulations against touching another cadet's personal belongings. That was defined as stealing and stealing resulted in automatic expulsion.

"I'll walk with you," he said. "I've got some books you wanted to borrow."

Z nodded and they headed towards the boys' floor in silence. Sky felt like throwing something at the wall – first Syd accusing him of doing things he didn't do and now Z looking extremely depressed and unhealthy.

"How did you guys end up as our 'clients'?" Kira asked as the four of them entered the safe house that night and collapsed on the various sofas in the bare room. Trent shrugged as Conner shut and locked the door.

"Tommy thought it would be better to have us, rather than some random patrol officers," Conner said, sitting down next to his wife and putting an arm around her. "Plus you'd recognize us and be comfortable around us." He paused and grinned. "How do we look?"

"Like frat boys," Paris muttered, kicking off her heels.

Trent just shook his head. It had been a last minute decision to have them come along as the clients at the safe house. The two women had been on the job for one day and hadn't had much time to organize and plan the arrest. He and Conner had tried to look inconspicuous in their surroundings, but had apparently failed. Trent didn't think it was unusual for well-dressed people to be in this part of town looking for a prostitute.

"So what are the plans for tomorrow?" Conner asked.

"More of the same," Kira replied with a yawn. "Where are the girls?" she asked Conner.

"I got a great babysitter," he said with false bravado.

"Ethan is a great babysitter?" Trent muttered.

Kira rolled her eyes. Paris stood up, collecting her heels. "I'm assuming there's some place to work out in here."

"There's a large room upstairs," Conner replied. "Just make sure that all the blinds and stuff are shut."

"I've been on undercover assignments before," she retorted with a glare.

Trent watched as she disappeared up the stairs. Earlier, some of their clothing had been stashed there. Kira and Paris were supposed to sleep at the safe house – with Trent staying there as their back-up at night. Conner was just part of the escort, since Tommy understood his family obligations and knew that both he and Kira could not be out on assignment at the same time.

Conner and Kira were starting to look entirely too comfortable – and Trent knew when it was his cue to leave. "I'll go see what Paris is up to," he said, starting for the stairs. Conner whispered something to Kira and both smirked, but Trent didn't bother to decode it and figure out what was going on. He knew that Ethan had probably passed some gossip onto the other members of their team… there was nothing between him and Paris and there never would be. The age difference was the first problem – and it went on ad nauseam from there.

The stairs in the safe house opened into a large rec room – bedrooms were off to either side along with the bathrooms. It reminded him of his house in northern California, built with large open rooms and few walls. The downstairs was pretty much one large room divided by furniture and screens, while the upstairs was little more than a loft with a large bed. He had a sudden flash of Paris lying on that bed – a seductive smile on her face. No – he had to stop those thoughts. This wasn't going to happen.

Paris was standing in the middle of the room, now wearing work-out clothes – a simple pair of black pants and a black tank top. Her face had been scrubbed free of make-up and her hair brushed back into a ponytail. Her arms were extended and Trent recognized what she was doing as a yoga pose. He had done yoga for a few years while he had been writing comics full time. He still remembered some of it – used it to relax and find his center.

The A-Squad Pink Ranger dropped her arms and turned to him. Her lips tugged into a smile. "Can I help you, Fernandez?" she asked in a feigned sweet voice.

"Conner and Kira are doing their newlywed cuddle thing downstairs and I found it a little revolting – so I thought I'd see what you're doing, Grayson." He emphasized her last name. The members of the A and B squads were on a first name basis, but Paris insisted on calling just about everyone by their last name or given name in the course of duty. She had already been appalled to find out that Trent wasn't short for something, so she insisted upon calling him Fernandez.

"Whatever did happen to casual sex?" Her tone was sardonic.

He shrugged. "You got me."

"So…" She trailed off, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Casual sex?"

"If you're propositioning me – it needs some work."

"You get propositioned often?"

"I used to." He paused, raising an eyebrow at her. "You?"

"I did – until our ex-commander stopped the parties." She shrugged, taking a step closer to him. "So can we cut all this bullshit? You like me and I like you."

Trent blinked. She was so close to him now – all it would take was for him to reach out and pull her to him, so that their bodies were touching. He could feel her warm heat, smell her shampoo – it was tangy, something tropical. It would be so easy to give into what his body wanted and kiss her senseless. "We can't do this," he said hoarsely.

Paris just gave him a bored look. God – this woman was intimidating.

"I'm too old for you."

"You're what – fifteen, sixteen years older than me?"

"More or less."

She took that final step and closed the space between them. Her lips were almost touching his ear, breathing hot air as she whispered, "In my experience, that's a very good thing." She pulled back and found himself lost in her gaze.

The closeness was too much – his hands went to her waist, pulling her close to him so that their bodies were touching. Her arms settled around his neck, a slight smile on her lips. He didn't think as he touched his lips to hers in the lightest of kisses – but it wasn't enough and soon what started out innocent became passionate and almost violent.

There was pure energy in that kiss – and so much more. He felt a warm feeling spread through his stomach and settle in his groin. He tried to ignore his physical reaction to the kiss, but how long had it been since someone could make him fall over with just one glance?

Breaking the kiss as gently as he could, he rested his forehead against hers. "See?" she whispered against his lips. "There's something there."

Not sure how it happened, he found himself on the floor, lying next to her, their bodies pressed close, kissing like tomorrow wasn't going to come. He just enjoyed the sensations – her body straining against his, their dancing tongues… As reluctant as he was to do it, he tore his mouth away from hers.

"We can't do this," he whispered. "The others—"

"Don't have to know," she finished for him. "Not yet, at any rate."

She pushed him onto his back, one leg swinging over his, so that she was effectively straddling his waist. She leaned over him, continuing the kiss.

"No," he protested softly. "We can't have sex yet."

She just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Let's at least go on a date first."

"All right." He smiled as she stifled a laugh.

"You get out of this undercover mission alive." His fingers danced up her sides, making her shiver delightfully under his touch. "I'll take you to dinner and we can—"

"Fuck like bunnies?" Her tone was dead serious – not a trace of humor on her face.

"Colloquially expressed, but essentially true."

Sky was in a bad mood – Bridge could feel it. This mood was particular darker than his normal moods. When he got upset, there was normally one key cause and he settled down after a while. However, there were multiple causes this time and Bridge wasn't sure he wanted to know what had set Sky off since he last him at the end of rehearsal.

He had a feeling one of the causes was Syd – she had been fuming for the past week, but Sky had been too busy and exhausted to notice. The Green Ranger didn't know what Syd was so upset about – all he knew was that Sky was the object of it. The upcoming weekend plans didn't help matters there – they were both heading home so there would be no quality time together. Of course, now that he thought about it, that was how Taylor found out that Sky and Syd were sleeping together…

Sky came back into their room – returning from where he had been giving Z the books he promised to loan her. One look told Bridge that he was just really upset and not really in a foul mood. "What is it with all these women?" he muttered to himself.

"Why the sudden misogynistic attitude?" Bridge asked.

Sky looked up at him from where he had been studying his bedspread. "I don't hate women," he replied sharply. "It's just that Syd's completely mad at me – and I'm still not sure why. And Z is losing weight and won't talk about that either."

Bridge had known that Z had lost some weight – not enough for anyone to become completely concerned yet, but enough that people would notice. And he couldn't help him out with Syd either because he wasn't sure what was going on in that girl's head. Sky sank down onto his bed, looking a little… lost. Bridge opened his mouth to say something, but his cell phone began to ring.

He sighed and went to his nightstand, picking up the phone – he let out another despondent sigh. It was his adopted mother – again. He hadn't called her back since she called him initially almost a month ago. This was just like his luck for her to call while he had an audience in the room.

"Who is it?" Sky asked.

Bridge started. "My adopted mother."

"Oh – why would you need to talk to her?"

The cell phone stopped ringing and beeped, indicating he had missed a call. "She keeps calling me," Bridge replied. "I think I should just talk to her to smooth over anything – I mean I stopped talking to them a long time ago."

Instead of looking sympathetic or commiserating, Sky looked appalled. The Blue Ranger pushed himself to his feet. "You don't need to call her," he hissed in a dangerous tone of voice. "They treated you like shit – I met them that one time. They thought you were a freak – they wouldn't hug you for Chrissake!" He narrowed his eyes. "You owe nothing to them and you certainly don't have to talk to them."

"Sky, it's not that—" His phone started ringing. He glanced at the number. "It's her again," he said softly.

"Don't answer it!"

"But—"

He didn't have a chance to finish his protest. Sky had taken two steps and, for all intents and purposes, tackled him. There was no way he could answer the phone with Sky doing his best to get the phone out of his hand. Bridge rolled out of Sky's initial tackle, jumping up onto his bed, the phone still ringing.

While he was more flexible and agile than Sky, he had forgotten just how much sheer strength Sky had. Getting the higher ground was not going to deter his roommate in the slightest. Sky hit in the back of the knees with his forearm and Bridge went down onto his bed, landing on his backside. This was the exact reason he and Sky didn't spar – Sky always won, because he had the determination to keep going until his opponent was exhausted.

Bridge rolled under Sky's arm, landing on the floor – not as gracefully as he would have liked, but on the floor all the same. A moment after that motion, Sky landed next to him on the floor and Bridge knew that he was effectively trapped in a headlock. His phone had stopped ringing and did the beeping thing again.

"Collins! Corbett!"

Sky released him and they both scrambled to their feet. Doctor Oliver was standing in the door of their room, looking a little puzzled as to why they had been beating each other up.

"I understand that this is a weird form of male bonding, but I wouldn't recommend jumping on and off the bed quite like that – spinal cord injuries." He surveyed them with a neutral, dark-eyed gaze. "What is going on?"

Bridge's phone started ringing again. He was so surprised that he dropped it on the floor, wincing as it hit the carpet. Doctor Oliver strode across the room and picked up the phone. He read the number aloud. "Who is this, Corbett?"

"His adopted mother," Sky answered.

"I don't believe I asked you, Collins," Doctor Oliver said, flipping open the phone and pressing the correct button to talk. "Hello?" he said into the phone. "Bridge Corbett's phone. This is Commander Thomas Oliver speaking." If it had been someone else in this situation, Bridge would have laughed. "Who is speaking?" He paused. "Marie Powell – Bridge's adopted mother. Well, I don't know you or much about you, but I do know that you are causing considerable distress to my rangers and I can't have that interfering with their work, health and safety. Don't call again unless Bridge calls you first." He disconnected the call.

Bridge could feel Doctor Oliver's gaze on him as he stared at the ground.

"Bridge," Doctor Oliver said, his tone kind. "How long has she been calling you?"

"About a month."

"Do you want her calling you?"

"No." His voice sounded small and timid.

"I would suggest getting your number changed at the earliest possible convenience." He gave them both a scrutinizing stare. "And since you two seem to have nothing better to do than beat each other up, might I suggest now? I'm sure Collins won't mind giving you a ride to your phone provider." With that, he left their room.

Bridge met Sky's gaze. "Come on," Sky said, picking up the keys to his car. As they went to the parking garage, Bridge realized that Sky was trying once more to protect him…

To Be Continued...

Author's Note: I was going to do reviewer responses for this chapter, but several things have attacked me at once - I wanted to update, but ran out of time for responses. (Blame the stories I have to workshop, the Spanish quiz and my Psych of Women research paper... oi! Not to mention that my professors seem to think I want nothing more than to read for their class...) With my paltry excuses out of the way, I hope that everyone continues to enjoy this piece - keep on leaving the great feedback!