Disclaimer: I don't own the Power Rangers. So don't try to buy them from me. Please don't get all offended because I mocked your favorite Ranger. I try to mock them all. Besides, it's just for fun. I really do enjoy the show :). 'Hi" to all from AFPR…especially my fellow Psychos. Please let me know if I make any errors. I have no difficulty with receiving constructive criticism. Thanks to Joe Rovang and SirStack for their Writer's Guide to the Power Rangers Universe which I rely on a lot.

If you haven't done so, please read the first fifty stories in "When Rangers Meet." Thanks.

This is story number thirty-four.

Trini and Conner

by

Eileen (Psycho Tangerine)

"Don't worry Mr. and Mrs. McKnight!" called Trini as the car flew out of the driveway, "I'll take good care of Conner!" She could've sworn she heard maniacal laughing coming from the sedan as it sped away.

Conner looked up at his newest babysitter with an angelic grin. "Can we play a game?" he asked in his sweetest voice. "Please?"

Trini smiled back at him. She had been taking care of little children back in Angel Grove for over two years now. And, aside from needing to tie a few up in their chairs...and losing two at the park...and having to chase a little darling as she drove her dad's car down the street...and having one turned into a cardboard person...she was doing fine with it. Not that she really had planned on taking a job while visiting her cousin Sylvia in Reefside. But when she had heard how desperate the McKnights were to go out for their anniversary...well, she still didn't care. But when she heard how much they were willing to pay...Trini could just envision the little doll friends she could buy Mr. Ticklesneezer with that kind of money. "Sure Conner, what kind of game do you want to play?"

Conner grinned even more as he led his newest sitter back into the house. He'd give her three hours before he broke her the way he broke all his mean old sitters. There was no way he was going to eat the disgusting meatloaf his mom had left and then go to bed at eight. The World Cup was on tonight. No, he'd have her running out of the house as soon as possible. "Soccer!" he exclaimed as he ran into the living room and grabbed a ball.

An hour later, Trini groaned to herself as the soccer ball flew over her head and smashed the vase. "Conner McKnight!" she firmly stated for not the first time that evening, "I already told you, no ball playing in the house!" She then mentally subtracted the cost of the vase along with the cost of the porcelain figurines and the cost of the picture window from her baby-sitting fees. She was already regretting having agreed to babysit for her cousin's neighbors. Attempting to sit on the floor with her eyes closed and meditate during the first hour hadn't helped either.

"Sorry, Trini," responded the little boy. "It slipped."

"Like hell it did." Trini put the soccer ball out of his reach on a shelf along with the other eight balls and began picking up the pieces. "Why don't we just play a nice quiet game until..."

"Crrrraaaaasssshhhhh!" A soccer ball slammed into a lamp.

Trini looked up at the shelf where the soccer ball still remained. Then she grabbed the newer ball and put that on the shelf as well. Turning back, she saw Conner setting up yet another soccer ball for a kick.

"Stop right there!" she ordered as she marched over to him and attempted to grab this newest ball from him. She only partially succeeded as the boy's kick landed on her shin rather than on the ball. "OW! That hurt!"

"Sowwy," responded Conner, giving his babysitter his puppy dog face. At five years of age, Conner already knew what charmed the women. Then he froze at the chilling look the teenaged girl was giving him.

"Just how many of these things do you have, anyway?" asked Trini.

"Uh, I forget," replied Conner. Counting was such a difficult task. And what was the point if people kept taking his soccer balls away and messing up the amount? "Maybe seventy billion?" He pointed to a closet at the end of the hall.

"Seventy billion balls couldn't fit in there," growled Trini as she went over to the closet. "I guess I'll just have to confiscate the rest of the balls as well." She yanked open the door, and a closet full of soccer balls fell all around her.

"Oh boy!" enthused Conner who began kicking the balls all over as Trini frantically picked them up and put them in whatever high spots she could find. Two more broken lamps, a smashed commemorative dish, and a destroyed china cabinet later and Trini had Conner sitting in a corner.

"Sowwy," said Conner, again giving the puppy dog face. He then began to cry. This always worked on Mommy whenever he broke things with his balls. After all, he figured that Mommy had an endless supplies of lamps and junk like that. He didn't realize that she was now spending all of her spare time hunting down items in local yard sales. He also didn't realize that she had been begging his father for months not to encourage his soccer playing so much. But Mr. McKnight had said he'd be damned if he let his son grow up to be a geek the way the James' were allowing with their little boy, Ethan.

Two minutes later, Conner realized that no one had responded to his fake crying. He attempted to get up, and realized he couldn't get off the heavy wooden chair. "Trini?" he called. "Trini? I'm stuck!"

"I know," retorted Trini as she reappeared in front of him dangling a now-empty tube of krazy glue in her hand.

"I'm telling my mommy on you!" Conner figured he could work out some ice cream privileges if he played his cards right. "Oh, Mommy, that horrible girl just stuck me to a chair and then made me watch as she broke your stuff and scratched up my nice soccer balls."

"Go right ahead," responded Trini. She had already contacted Zordon and asked for a copy of the video of the evening. At first, he had refused, saying that he didn't videotape his Rangers, just checked in on them on occasion. But when she had threatened to go into his tube and personally smack him around with the pile of video tapes that Billy had found several weeks earlier that included the Rangers taking their showers and doing other personal things, he relented. "And guess what supper is?"

"Yucky old meatloaf," murmured Conner who was now trying to figure out a way to wiggle out of his pants.

"Nope," answered Trini as she brought the fork to his mouth. "Yucky old liver!"

"Nooooooooooooommmmmmmpppphhhhh!" shouted Conner as Trini shoved the fork into his mouth.