Disclaimer: The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.
BEHIND THE CLOUDS
By Etcetera Kit
Chapter Fourteen: Masquerade II
The costume shop was tucked away in a corner of downtown. This section held most of the mom and pop specialty stores. The comic book shop he had frequented as a kid was near here somewhere… Due to the restricted parking, he had parked a few blocks away and the three of them walked over here.
Sky frowned, looking at the sign to the store. This looked like a hippie shop – and he was amazed not to see people smoking pot outside. Paris would recommend a place like this. He was about to issue some protestations, but Bridge and Z had already gone into the store, leaving him standing on the sidewalk. Letting out a long breath, he pushed the door open, entering the store and was mildly surprised at what he found.
The place was neat, crowded, but neat. Bright, incandescent lights illuminated the interior, making the shop appear homey and cozy. A scented candle was burning on a shelf above the register. The tangy smell of citrus invaded his nostrils. Huh – first impressions of this place were misleading.
"This is the one I'm working on?"
Sky turned towards the voice. An older woman – perhaps forty or fifty – with jet black hair and electric yellow fingernails was scrutinizing him. Z was standing with her, nodding as the woman stared at him. "That's him," Z replied.
"I'm Rain," the woman replied. "Owner of this little shop." She cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes. "You're Eric Myers' boy, aren't you?"
"Yeah – how did you know?"
"My husband works for the Newtech PD – homicide." She waved away the question with a genuine smile. "That would make you Sky. Eric always speaks highly of you."
A pink flush rose in his cheeks at her compliment. She looked between the three of them, nodding to herself.
"Now – you three have a Halloween party?" Rain clarified.
Z answered in the affirmative and Rain shooed her and Bridge off to browse through the racks of costumes and other paraphernalia she had in the store. Once they were laughing and comparing costumes, Rain focused in on him.
"You are going to need something special," she mused.
Sky inwardly began to panic, wondering what Z had told Rain before he had come into the shop. This was not going to be good. He had called Wes a couple of days ago to check up on Jen and Gemma. Both were doing well. He had mentioned the upcoming party and Wes had made an offhand comment giving him permission to use his credit card to get a costume. But if Rain wanted to special-make him something, then the costume was sure to cost much more than he had planned on spending – and he really didn't want Wes taking his head off for this.
"Renaissance," Rain said with a definitive nod of her head.
"What?" He was confused.
"You'll see," she replied, leading him to a different section of the store from where Bridge and Z were. He was faintly surprised to see an entire collection of Renaissance clothing – from nobility all the way down to the peasants and everything in between. This place had to be packed when the Renaissance Faire came to Newtech each November. She asked his clothing sizes and he responded, watching as she select an off-white peasant shirt, vest, belt, hat, boots and, to his horror, crushed velvet tights.
With an order to try it on, he was pushed into a changing room. Taking a deep breath, he told himself that this wasn't a big deal – his ranger form was nothing more than spandex. This wasn't anything that national news coverage hadn't seen. "We want to see!" Z called into the changing room. Sky inwardly groaned, changed into the costume and took a look at himself in the mirror. Not too bad… he could live with it. The vest, hat and tights were dark blue – complimenting the rest of the earth tones.
"That is perfect," Z declared as he stepped out of the dressing room.
"Perfect for what?" he asked suspiciously.
"The party," she replied a little too quickly.
"No one will be able to resist you!" Rain said. She moved to help Z select something from a rack of gauzy fairy-like dresses. He went back into the dressing room to change into his normal clothes. Glancing at the price tags, he blanched. Wes would kill him if he put this on his credit card. But then again… something told him that Wes wouldn't care because he had actually made a comment about the lack of use said credit card was getting.
Putting the various costume pieces over his arm, he came into the main store just in time to see Rain putting a gauzy yellow fairy dress with matching wings into a dry-cleaning bag for Z. The Yellow Ranger pulled a wad of cash from her purse, counting out the correct change for the purchase. Sky supposed that was the most efficient thing to do – but he wouldn't imagine Wes handing out cash. He would hand out a money order or transfer the money into someone's bank account. Bridge was already standing around with a bag.
He put the costume on the counter and Rain began to ring it up, folding the clothes and putting them into proper packing. He let out a long breath.
"You don't want to put that much on the credit card," Bridge said.
"No," he agreed.
Z snorted. "Wes is a billionaire," she said. "Billionaire! He's not going to miss it."
"I don't know—"
"Sky," Bridge interrupted. "Just pull out the credit card, close your eyes and pay for it."
Nothing like peer pressure. A few minutes later, the three of them were walking back towards his car, laden with shopping bags. He wasn't sure what Z expected him to accomplish by walking around in tights for an evening, but it was obviously something.
"I just want to know why you care so much about getting Syd and Sky back together."
Z rolled her eyes at Bridge, brushing some of the wrinkles out of her new costume and hanging it in her closet. Syd had vacated the premises – Z wasn't sure if the Pink Ranger was just avoiding them or if she truly did have other things to be doing. Bridge was lying on his stomach on her bed, his chin propped up on her spare blanket as he watched her put away the dress and wings.
"I mean, sure, they're our friends and stuff," Bridge continued. "But this whole thing boils down to Syd – and I don't think she wants a reconciliation shoved down her throat." He paused. "And it might backfire – they're both really slow to change."
He was rambling. Z knew the reason – he was trying to make sense of the plan that was slowly coming together after the advent of Cadet Lynch. However, he didn't know what she did about Sky and the depth of the Blue Ranger's feelings. She sighed – she missed having Inkwell, her kitten, here. He was at home in Turtle Cove – a combination of Syd's whining about black cat fur everywhere and Doctor Oliver blandly reminding them about the no pet rule caused that.
Z sat down on her bed next to Bridge. He sat up, giving her an intense gaze. He needed to be in the know too. "You have to promise not to tell anyone about this."
"Did you promise not to tell anyone?"
"No – I promised not to tell Syd." Z gave him a mock severe glance. "But I'm making you promise not to tell anyone else."
"Z, what's going on?"
No point in delaying the inevitable. "Sky bought an engagement ring for Syd."
"What?"
She laid a finger on his lips. "He's not going to ask her for a few years, but he's bought the ring all the same. It's in a vault in Silver Hills."
Bridge kissed her fingertips before threading his fingers through hers. "All right," he started. "All the obvious objections aside, why did he keep it from us?"
"Probably because it'd get back to Syd."
"You have a point there." He frowned. "If he cares enough about her to buy an engagement ring that won't be used for years, then she's just being crazy." He groaned and flopped back on her bed, dramatically. "It'll never work – breaking her up with that Lynch creep. It won't help."
"Why won't it help?"
"Because she'll know we're behind it – and then she'll just get mad at all of us for trying to rearrange her life without her permission."
Z stretched out beside him, one arm over his chest, her chin propped on his shoulder. "Well," she replied. "We just have to execute the plan with more finesse."
"Finesse?" Bridge's arms came around her, pulling her so that she was lying mostly on his chest. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his quickening heartbeat – the only indication that their position was affecting him.
"Yeah – if we concentrate on separating her and Lynch for the night and come up with situations where she would be forced to confront Sky…" She trailed off, letting Bridge fill in the rest however he wanted.
"That explains the costume," he mumbled. He shook his head. "I'm still not sure that this is a good idea."
"Come on," Z said, propping herself up so she could see his face. "We're not talking about some fleeting romance here – those two are so retarded for each other, it's not even funny. It's just that right now the retarded-ness has taken over."
Bridge snickered. "You're starting to sound like me."
Z gave him a bored look. "Just don't think about Syd for a minute – think about Sky. He's your best friend – you want to let his future fiancée throw him away like yesterday's garbage! We are talking about the end of life as we know it!"
"Subtlety never was one of your strong points."
Giving him a haughty glance, she lifted herself off of him and scooted to the far corner of her bed, wrapping her arms around her knees. Was she the only one destined to understand the situation and the need for action? Bridge understood, sure, but he also thought the plan was a really bad idea. He was being such a—boy. How many times had Paris told her that boys were stupid and had to have things beaten into their skulls? Too many…
She felt Bridge move closer to her. "Come on, Z," he pleaded. "Don't be mad. I'll help with this plan." He paused. "What do you need me to do?"
Z let out a long breath, realizing that she was pushing Bridge away. He didn't have to like the plan or always agree with her, that was just the nature of relationships. She turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him hold her for a few minutes. He pulled away from her and stood up, taking her hand.
"Come on," he said, tugging at their joined hands.
"What?" she asked. He didn't reply, just led her out of her room and upstairs into his room. Once there, he opened the top drawer to his dresser and began rummaging around in it. "Bridge, what are you—" But she was cut off when he produced a jewelry box from underneath his socks and pajamas. He held it out to her, an unreadable expression on his face.
Frowning, she took the box and lifted the lid. Inside was a necklace – an almost exact replica of the Z necklace she had lost so many years ago. "How?" she whispered.
"Your mom," he replied. "Do you like it?"
She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his – giving him a hard, passionate kiss and shivering when he responded and kissed her back. As far as she was concerned, this could last forever.
"Sorry to interrupt, but you guys might want to take that elsewhere."
They sprang apart to see Sky coming out of the bathroom, dressed in sweatpants and a blue t-shirt with a towel around his neck. How could both of them have missed that someone was in the shower? The Blue Ranger moved past them to his side of the room.
Z exchanged a glance with Bridge and they left the room. That hadn't been the worst thing Sky had walked in on them doing, definitely not the worst thing…
Bridge hummed to himself as he checked his mail box the next day. Sliding his key card into the correct slot, he pulled open the door and extracted his mail. Most of it was junk – except for the card from his Aunt Kendrix and his cell phone bill. He pulled those out and glanced at the rest of the papers. Some were fliers for various events that got stuffed in everyone's mail box. There was also a plain white envelope with 'Lieutenant Corbett' written simply across it. The handwriting was Trent's. Heart pounding, he ripped open into the envelope.
The post-it note on the front page read, Want me to put in an anonymous tip?
The sheet on top was a piece of paper with Trent summarizing his findings and the photocopied sheets were the evidence he had found.
Bridge had talked to Ryan a few days ago and he did not have much more information or insight on the newest idea regarding the demon. However, the demon anthropologist had recommended some books on drawing wards and making protection amulets – Trent's suggestion of dragon's blood had turned out to be correct. But, the niggling at the back of his mind had died down – his changed phone number prevented unwanted calls and no more demons had come around to attack him. (That – and he had gotten a lot better at perceiving unnatural presences around him.)
He separated a piece of paper from the others – it was a photocopy of a person Bridge vaguely recognize as one of his adopted mother's friends. When she had her friends over to play cards and have cocktails, she encouraged him to stay away and he was more than happy to comply. Those women looking curiously at the kid wearing leather gloves – pity in their eyes for his adopted parents and curiosity towards him.
Trent had written on the edge of the paper – guardian, registered at the last major conference, apparently extremely capable of summoning powerful demons.
More surveillance pictures followed and registration forms for various conferences. Trent had done his research well – including affidavits from the bartenders of a bar that catered to the occult community in LA. The barkeep claimed hearing their guardian and Powell talk about summoning a demon.
He should have been horrified to find all this out – but, now that he knew, all the niggling threads about his childhood not being quite right had stopped niggling because all the pieces fell into place. Instead of feeling panicked or alarmed, he felt much calmer than he had. They didn't miss him – he had known that way back in his first year at the SPD Academy. They were afraid of him and, being sick when he was younger, she was trying to rid herself of a freak child and make it look like an accident. Telling himself that they were hurt had been a defense… it still hurt to have this confirmed, but – was it so bad?
Life is not fair or unfair, his mother was fond of telling him. It merely is. It is up to each of us to be fair or unfair.
Justice would be served – he had been a ranger and a cop long enough to appreciate that. Sending a demon with intent to kill was a containment card kind of offense – and conspiracy to murder was just as bad. He pulled his morpher from his belt and flipped it open.
"Corbett to Fernandez," he said.
"I hear you, Bridge. What's up?" Trent asked.
"Can you put in that anonymous tip?"
"On it – there'll be a squad out there in an hour."
Sky tried to concentrate on the book he was reading, but couldn't focus. Night had fallen outside and their room was dimly lit by the lamps. Bridge was lying on his stomach on his bed, his reading glasses slipping off his nose as he studied the circuit board and consulted a book, both items laying his pillow. Sky shook his head and leaned against the headboard of his bed, putting his book on his nightstand. He then pulled the sleeves of his sweatshirt over his hands, curling his fingers inside his palms for warmth. The heater in their room was going full blast – and Bridge was probably hot, but…
He normally felt overly cold during cooler weather – he had figured out early on that what he considered cold was comfortable for most people. Bridge started humming to himself.
"What are you so happy about?" Sky asked.
Bridge looked up from the circuit board and book and sat up. He pulled off his reading glasses – that was unexpected. The gesture meant he was going to settle in for a conversation about something. "Trent figured out who sent the demon."
The Blue Ranger had to fight from gaping at him. That entire event had caused large amounts of panic and chaos and Bridge was just now relating that he had figured out who sent the demon? "What?" Sky sputtered. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"
That made his roommate pause. "I guess because it's all taken care of." He thought for a minute. "It's not like we've had repeat demon attacks."
Sky felt like he should have been irritated with Bridge, but he couldn't muster the energy to even feel a slight annoyance. He had been wrung out – he knew that Bridge and Z were plotting something for the Halloween dance. Between the blackmail pictures that he still hadn't actually seen, increasing numbers of rehearsals, the fact that he and Syd weren't together let alone even speaking… he didn't have the heart to get mad at Bridge for something that didn't make a difference, especially if the whole situation had been resolved.
"True," he conceded. "Look," he said, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry about the whole thing with your adopted family. I don't have any right to tell you what to do."
"I know," Bridge replied in answer to his first statement. "But, it's a good thing you did intervene because she's the one that indirectly sent the demon."
"You're kidding me!"
"Nope. She apparently has these guardian friends. They picked a really powerful demon – what they didn't know is that rangers have sent that particular demon back to the grave twice before."
"Damn." He glanced at Bridge. "You seem relatively calm about all this."
"What's the point in panicking?" He shrugged. "Trent sent out a squad and picked up both of them – intent to kill and conspiracy to murder is more than enough to keep their petty fears out of my hair."
Sky shook his head. He would never understand how Bridge managed to remain so calm in situations where anyone else would be flipping out. Situations always fell out that way – the rest of the B-Squad would be in chaos and Bridge would step in with a solution, stopping the chaos before anyone else knew what had happened. Things were never dull – he would have used a lot of other words to describe their lives, but dull wasn't one of them.
"How are you holding up?" Bridge asked him, nodding at the fact that his hands were still curled inside his sweatshirt sleeves.
"I'm managing," he replied and then paused. "I'm not too crazy about the cold weather."
"You've never been too crazy about cold weather. Everyone else runs outside to have a snowball fight and you hide by a space heater."
Reluctantly, Sky smiled. Bridge gave him a concerned look.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine," although the statement was directly contradicted by a violent shiver. Bridge gave him a look that said, yeah right, but didn't say anything. He shook his head while moving the circuit board and book from his bed, placing his glasses on his nightstand. Soon enough, they had said their goodnights and Sky fell into a dreamless sleep.
When he next woke, his alarm was going off. His whole body felt sore, like he had been put through an extra-hard simulator program. Shivering, he pulled his comforter closer around him and did something he hadn't done in years – hit the snooze button on his alarm. His throat was dry and his head throbbed uncomfortably.
"Sky?"
Forcing himself to roll over and open his eyes, he saw Bridge standing next to his bed, looking worried. Not once in their tenure as roommates had Sky not gotten up the moment his alarm went off. "Are you all right?"
He felt Bridge place a hand on his forehead.
"You're running a temperature," Bridge said. "I'll let Doctor Oliver know that you won't be on duty today."
For once, Sky felt too weak to argue with him.
To Be Continued...
Author's Note: Okay, I originally had a really long and really retarded author's note here, but it got expunged. I am not going to subject my WONDERFUL readers to my Starbucks-induced ridiculousness. (Never, ever drink coffee late at night when you know you will consequently be up until all hours of the night.) With that said, I will simply say that there was minor, minor tweaking to the last chapter and, if you are unclear about something or feel that I have a fact wrong, please e-mail me. K'thanx. Also, the response from the last chapter was amazing and I thank all of you profusely from the bottom of my heart! I'm signing off before I go back into my original... diatribe.
PS This is just a general statement and has nothing to do with reviews from last chapter or anything in particular -- I do NOT hate Jack or Cruger. (That is all that is left of the original diatribe.) K'thanx. Really signing off this time... I promise!