Disclaimer: I don't own Power Rangers, the characters and anything related; MMPR Production/Disney does. (More's the pity.) I just like to play in the universe.

Note: This is in response to Vespera's "Ranger Romance Themes", and it's – guess what – Jason/Kat. J I know PunkPinkPower has started the same challenge before me; I like reading her series, and this is in no way meant to step on her toes; I just wanted to see if I could do the subject justice myself and if I could deal with the short format (hey, you guys know me – Queen of the PR Epic! -grins-) for once. Plus, both Vespera and Panache pestere-, uh, encouraged me. :-) I'll try not to copy PPP's themes, so I won't be rereading her stories. (Doesn't mean I'm not looking forward to her next installment, though!)

Anyway, these are written in no particular order; I'm going at it in the sequence my Idiot Muse® is presenting them to me. On with the fun, and please pass by the feedback box on your way out? And Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, everybody! DB, December 2005

Forty Ranger Romance Themes: Jason and Kat

Green-Eyed Monster

By Dagmar Buse

I can't believe I'm jealous.

I always thought I'd be above this. Too mature, too sensible, too understanding of other's emotions, especially Kat's. Well, and Tommy's, but that's neither here nor there. Really, trust me on that. Jealousy is such an ugly feeling, making you bitter, and mistrustful, and a whole other bunch of bad stuff. In other words, I'm plain uncomfortable. And that's putting it mildly!

What's more, I'm not jealous in the ordinary sense. I know, in my very bones, that Kat, my wife of three years, would never, ever look at another guy, much less do or even think anything that smacked of deceit.

No, I'm jealous of my own son.

There, I've said it.

That beautiful baby, whom I love to bits myself, whom I wanted as much as anything, has become an intruder in the cocoon of our marriage. How bad is that?

What does that make me? An insensitive jerk and idiot, that's what.

Took me a while to identify what I was feeling; it's not exactly the thing a guy likes to admit about himself. I mean, come on – how low is that, resenting the time, love and attention a new mother is bestowing on her first child?

And yet, I can't help myself.

Take last night, for example. Our son is three months old now, and I thought that this small landmark would be perfect to have a little celebration for us parents. Nothing fancy, just dinner at a good restaurant, a moonlight walk in the park, maybe, and some quality time for the two of us afterwards.

Yes, I was thinking about what you're thinking. So what? Kat is more than just a mom, she's still my wife, and a beautiful, sexy woman whom I want very much. Even with those few, left-over-from-pregnancy extra pounds on her hips. Actually, I find that rather appealing; she's softer now, extremely pleasant to hold and caress, and … ahem. You really don't want to know, okay? Use your imagination if you must.

So I bought a spray of one of Kat's favorite orchids on my way home from work, and suggested my plan to her. After all, it's not as if there aren't two perfectly willing and capable grandmothers in town who are just dying to have their grandchild to themselves a whole night. I'd even made sure that either one would be free.

So where's the problem? Why am I out in the back yard, venting my frustration on a pile of wood by chopping it into firewood with a vengeance instead of taking the love of my life out to dinner and some serious loving afterwards?

Well, I hadn't counted on Scott Junior to get diarrhea.

Nothing serious; just some slight reaction to the applesauce our pediatrician suggested we introduce to his diet. (God help me, I find myself even getting jealous of the times Kat's nursing the baby! As wonderful as the sight of her with our baby at her breast during the first days of his life was and still is, now I sometimes want to say 'hey, kid, that's my toy you're playing with!' Not that Kat is a plaything in any way, nor that taking the most beneficial, natural nourishment in the only way our baby knows how is meant to slight me, but … ah, you know what I mean, I'm sure. Get your mind out of the gutter already, okay?) As a result, he's fussy and crying a lot because he's got slight cramps, and needs constant changing - even more than usual. I can't believe we've almost used up a whole package of diapers in one day! Poor kid ...

Anyway, back to my grand plan. Perfectly reasonable, right? Maybe even romantic? That's what I was thinking when I whispered into Kat's ear.

"Let's go out tonight, love. Dinner at Le Petit Bistro, a walk in the park … just you and me, the way we used to."

To Kat's credit, I could see she was tempted. Very much so. I could tell by the way her eyes turned a deeper blue, by the smile curving her soft lips and by the way she melted into my arms. And when I kissed her, she kissed me back with as much longing as I was experiencing.

But, no.

"I can't, Jason," she murmured. Regretfully, yes, but I knew she meant it.

"Why not?" More kisses, and a little, um, hands-on persuasion. Didn't work. Damn.

"You know why."

I did – well, I suspected – but that didn't make it easier to accept.

"Please, Kat … it's been so long since we've been out together."

She hadn't liked to go much of anywhere the last couple of months of her pregnancy. Sitting for long stretches was uncomfortable, she didn't feel particularly attractive (no matter how often I told her she looked beautiful), and the constant need to be close to a restroom kind of put a dampener on things.

"I know, and I really want to go out with you someplace nice, but not tonight. Not when Baby isn't feeling well."

"Kat, I'm sure both your mother or mine know perfectly well how to deal with a few soiled diapers. After all, they've been there, done that – with us."

"Yes, but … I can't. I'm truly sorry, Jason, but … it just wouldn't feel right."

Man, I'd been looking forward to this so much! Only to be stopped practically at the gate by Kat's maternal instinct. Frustration didn't even begin to cover what I felt right then.

"Dealing with the runs feels more right than spending quality time with me – your husband?"

Foot, meet mouth. You're going to have a long, intimate relationship.

I could've bitten my tongue the moment I'd said that. I knew Kat didn't feel that way, that she honestly thought it was more important for her to stay and look after our baby during the first time he was unwell, but the words slipped out before I could stop myself. I bit the inside of my cheek almost hard enough to draw blood, but it was too late. The damage was done.

Kat just looked at me as if I'd slapped her. I could see tears welling up in her eyes, but somehow – no idea how she managed it; it has to be one of the most heroic things I've seen her do, and trust me, she did a hell of a lot of them as a Ranger, as a woman and as a wonderful human being – she didn't cry. She just disengaged herself from my arms without another word and crossed the room towards the staircase. Before she went up to our son's room – the poor little tyke was already starting to fuss again; probably had cramps in his little tummy again, or something – she turned and gave me a Look that made me feel like the worst heel that ever lived.

"No. Not tonight." Then she vanished upstairs.

And that was very definitely that.

So here I am, reducing what feels like a whole redwood tree to firewood. Judging by the amount of logs I've chopped, we can feed the fireplace until the kid graduates high school. Or until I die of frustration, whatever comes first. I'm soaked with sweat, and my back and arms hurt like there's no tomorrow. Man, not even duking it out with Goldar all those times managed to exhaust me like this!

But all the exertion has served its purpose, I guess. My head's gotten a little clearer, and I can see Kat's refusal for what it was – not a rejection of me, of our love, but the care and concern of a new mother who's taking her responsibilities towards a helpless child very, very seriously. As all mothers should. If I'm being honest, I wouldn't want it any other way.

It's only natural that a husband has to take a step or two back when a newborn is involved. Right now, our baby needs his mommy far more, and far more immediately for his oh-so-basic needs like food, warmth and security, than a man needs his wife. At least for a while.

I'm an adult. I can wait. The time will come when Kat can look beyond being a mother, and become my best friend and confidante again. And my lover. Yeah, I'll admit it – it's that part of our marriage I miss most. But then, I don't have to get up in the middle of the night, every night, to feed and clean a baby, nor do I have to deal with the plain physical effects of having been pregnant, given birth or nursing. No wonder she's too tired, or maybe just not in the mood. Besides, in a few years I'm sure it'll be my turn with our son – when I'll start teaching him martial arts, and football, and take him hiking, and fishing, and do all that wonderful other guy stuff with him that Kat probably finds a little boring. Until then, though, it just needs a little patience and understanding on my part.

I can be patient if I have to. Hell, I do have to!

I just wish it were easier. Only ... how does that saying go? Good things don't always come easily. And deep down, I really wouldn't want it any other way; I know I appreciate things more if I've worked for them. I just never imagined I'd have to work at our marriage! Guess life isn't like the movies, after all -- no happily-ever-after without some serious work. Which, come to think of it, I don't really mind all that much. Because the rewards are more than worth it.

So, what do I do now that I've gotten things sorted out in my mind?

Stack all the logs I've chopped into the shed, for starters. And while I do that, try to think of a way to apologize to my lovely wife and make her believe that I didn't mean what I said. One generous helping of crow, coming up.

"I love you, Kat."

Saying it out loud, even out here in the garden, where she can't hear it, helps.

"I love our son."

That helps, too.

And love is a much more positive emotion than jealousy.

This particular green-eyed monster is more dangerous, more insidious than any of the freaks Rita, Zedd, Mondo or Divatox combined could throw at us. We've survived all of them, beaten them into dust or shattered them into a million pieces, and grown stronger because of it. Hell, our very love has been founded on what we've seen in each other while battling monsters! I'm a fighter; I can, and will, fight this.

But I've only won my first battle; on now to win the war!

To Be Continued ... in other vignettes!