Baby, my baby

It's written on your face

You still wonder if we made a big mistake

Lucas yawned loudly as Katie emerged from another home and shook her head, plainly stating without words: Unsuccessful; they had spent three hours going through the village, trying to gather information, but the civilians were either too scared to talk, or really didn't know anything. The Blue Ranger looked at the Yellow expectantly, then said impatiently: "We're done here, they're obviously not going to give us anything."

"You're right," Katie said, "but Jen wanted us to go to each house."

"Does she know how many homes there are on a colony?" Lucas questioned, "even one this small?"

Katie smirked. "What's the matter, Lucas," she said, "you got a hot date tonight?"

He scowled. "No . . . you know that," he said, "but I've got things I'd rather do than wander around Mars all day! How anyone could live here is beyond me . . . "

"It's not so bad."

"Bullshit," Lucas said, "it's about two hundred degrees out here right now---" at her gaze, he corrected himself "---all right, maybe a hundred twenty or so, but come on, that's hot as hell!" He gave one of his award-winning smiles, his white teeth flashing in the bright sunlight. "Though I guess I could use some work on my tan."

"Shut up," Katie laughed, "all you ever think about is how to improve your impeccable looks!"

"Well, you know," Lucas said, "it doesn't come naturally to everyone." He smiled again, kissing Katie's cheek playfully; she rolled her eyes as he hurried off to the next house, then followed him, still chuckling to herself at his boyish attitude.

Her communicator beeped. "Katie here."

"Katie, it's Jen. Anything yet?"

"Not a peep," Katie said, "Jen, these people are scared shitless. Something's still going on here, we just have to find out what."

"They are obviously still robots around somewhere."

"I know," Katie said, "but we haven't been able to find anything." As an afterthought, she added: "Lucas is getting a little restless."

"Kinda' figured he would by now . . . all right, they're not talking. Return to the ship."

"Aye-aye, Captain!"

Jen laughed quietly. "Good soldier, Katie, we'll see you soon. Jen out."

----------

Alex frowned, looking up from his computer as Jen entered the briefing room, her face distraught, he asked, already knowing the answer: "They're still not telling us anything?"

"No," Jen said, "Katie said they're all too scared, not that I can really blame them." She ordered a drink from the computer, and then sat down next to him. "Of course, how they think we're gonna solve anything if they don't help us I don't know!"

Alex smirked. "Not everyone's a Time Force officer," he reminded her, "some people just don't have courage. I know, it pisses me off, too."

Jen took a drink, smacking her lips and savoring the taste. "Guess we can't all be Rangers." She looked at him quickly, just in time to see the flinch that passed over his face at his words; for a moment, she regretted it, but quickly replaced those feelings. "So you come up with anything yet?"

"No." Alex sat back, stretching. "No signs of robot activity anywhere on there, they might have developed some kind of cloaking device, I guess."

"Pretty advanced," Jen pointed out, "for a robot to come up with on it's own. I mean, don't they usually just do what they're programmed to? Or, at least, that's all they know how to do."

"Not if they're leader isn't robot," Alex said, "he hasn't been identified yet remember."

"But he was described as a robot."

"And we all heard the description," Alex said, "yellow, six-feet-tall . . . added onto that recently was 'fires lasers' and 'speaks in high-pitched tones'. Come on, Jennifer, we all know what this is."

"How can that be possible?" Jen demanded, "he was destroyed a thousand years ago."

"He rebuilt himself once," Alex said, "who says he couldn't have done it again? And---"

"---has been waiting . . . all this time," Jen continued for him, "just to get his twisted revenge on Time Force. Or Ransik. Or---"

"---us." Alex typed something into his computer. "Jennifer, I . . . I didn't want the others to hear this, so I waited till now. But I found this clip in the databanks, from the year two thousand six, and it sounds kind of familiar." He waited, Jen leaned forward, watching the screen and listening till she heard the static and the frightened shouts:

"A Squad report to the third sector to go on with the assault, B Squad---" the voice was interrupted by a loud explosion and screams of pain. Shouts followed, one voice ringing above them all: "A Squad, follow me! B Squad, take charge of caring for the injuries!"

The screen flickered and showed a few images, fire rising from an old warehouse, dozens of men in dark blue uniforms running around with weapons flashing in the moonlight; one stood out, a red beret on his blond head, one hand outstretched, leading his men. The screen filled with static again and the images disappeared.

"Wes . . . " Jen murmured, her voice cracking.

Alex looked at her sympathetically, seeing the pain in her face as she continued to listen: More explosions and cries, then a high voice rising up: "You're done for, Rangers! My time has come!" Another shout, then Wes' voice giving out orders: "Go around back---Eric, I need you over here!"

The screen came to life again, just in time to see a figure shrouded in a black cape shoot out a laser from his robotic arm that hit Eric square in the chest, the explosion sent Wes flying against the back wall; he fell hard to the floor, blood streaming down his face, his eyes closed.

The screen went dead as another explosion racked the warehouse.

"Oh my God."

"Wes survived," Alex told her, "Eric was beat up pretty bad, in a coma for two weeks, but he made it, too." He paused. "Twenty-eight Silver Guardians were killed that night. And after that, their opponent never made another appearance, and was never identified."

"But we both know that voice," Jen said, trying to steady her voice.

"Yes, we do."

They sat in eerie silence for a few moments, both going over the information they had gathered, and had just viewed; Jen held down her rising emotions by sheer force of will, it way not the time to dwell on the past, no matter how much it had hurt her to see Wes in pain; Alex wondered if he should have shown her the clip at all, knowing how upset she had appeared when Wes' battered face appeared on the screen.

"Jennifer," he said, quietly, gently, "I---"

"I should get back to my work," she cut him off, rising from her seat.

But Alex laid a hand on her arm, holding her still: "What happened to us, Jennifer? I mean, how did we end up here?"

Jen stared at him, searching his eyes for the deep emotion hidden behind them and deep inside his heart, but---as always---he was unreadable; she shrugged off his touch, as if it hadn't affected her at all, despite the weakness she had suddenly felt in her knees. "We're not good for each other anymore, Alex," she said, coldly, "it's not right. Not now."

"Why not?" Alex questioned, "God knows we're better for each now than we ever were before."

"No, we're not---" her voice was firm "---there's a vital piece missing from us now. Love." She ignored the flash in his eyes, suddenly he was as plain to her as her own face, his icy blue eyes open to her and his emotions crying out to be revealed . . . hurt? Anger? Or was it really the love he still felt for her? "I don't love you, Alex."

A long silence between them, then Alex's voice: "I know you don't." He turned back to his computer, a slight slump in his shoulders, his face a mask again.

Jen swallowed, turning her back on him and leaving the room to greet Lucas and Katie when they arrived in the docking port, but as she continued, she was haunted by his face, looking up at her and trying to be so clear, pleading with her to see him for who he used to be . . . but wasn't anymore. She couldn't love the man he had become, this cold creature who showed her so little of his true feelings, so unlike the man that she had known; cursing, she slammed her fist into the wall.

"Damn you, Alex!" she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut; she lowered her voice to a whisper: "What have you done to me?"

And, just down the hall and to the right, Alex stood over the table with his hands placed on it and his head bowed, his eyes were also closed, his lips pressed tightly together. Nice one, Alex, she really wants you now. "No," he muttered, "I don't want this!" He punched the metal table, ignoring the skin on his knuckles that burst open, blood trickled down his hand. "I don't want you back!" he tried to shout.

But it merely came out as a broken whisper.

"So, what you're saying is," Captain Logan repeated, "you went all the way there, and got nothing of use to anyone." He scowled, shuffling through the mound of paperwork on his desk as Alex and Jen stood quietly and watched him. "Well, I guess we'll just have to wait till it strikes again."

"We're keeping close monitors on the colony," Alex said, "the robots were obviously still there, but we weren't getting anything from waiting around."

"We assigned a company of fifty men to guard the colony," Jen told him, "with an additional one hundred on stand-by, they could be there in thirty minutes."

"Good, good, good." Logan looked at Alex. "Well, try to relax---" then at Jen "---both of you. You're gonna need your rest for these next few weeks."

"We still have a lot of work to do," Alex pointed out, "and we want to get it done as soon as possible."

"Let me know if you need any more personnel," Logan said, "I'll have them sent out ASAP. This mission exceeds any other we're working on right now."

Alex nodded as Logan stood up and stuck out his hand, the younger man gripped it firmly, then turned easily and left his former leader's office, Jen at his side; they walked on quietly, outside the enormous building and onto the sidewalk. He glanced at her, but she avoided his gaze expertly, her deep brown eyes searching the streets, looking everywhere but his direction; absently, he said: "You should go home . . . we'll meet up in the morning and start again."

"What time?" her voice was weary.

" . . . zero eight hundred," Alex replied, "out here." He paused. "And take that time to rest, not do some extra research."

For once, she smiled a little at him. "All right, all right---" the smile disappeared, but there was a playful glint in her eyes "---as long as you do the same."

"It's a deal."

They stared at each other for a second, each searching for their own words to say, Alex was the first to speak: "Jen, I---I'm sorry about the other day. I shouldn't have brought it up." But I still want to know . . . damn it, why can't we just talk, Jennifer?

"It's okay," Jen said, too quickly, "it's just . . . " she bit her lip, chewing on it nervously " . . . it's over."

"I know it is."

She straightened, trying to smile again. "But that's okay, too . . . right?" Something about her expression told him it was not okay, but he couldn't bring himself to press her on it, to make her shrink away from him again.

"Yeah," he said, trying to sound sincere, "I guess, we both just did too much to each other. Things we can't get past."

Jen watched his face carefully as he spoke, his voice was soft, there was no anger in his eyes, but he seemed . . . disappointed, somehow; she had always just assumed he had moved on as she had, gotten past their relationship, but perhaps Alex had found it harder than she did? It was hard for me, too, to forget about him.

"I can't," she finally responded, " . . . have a good night, Alex."

She tried to pretend she didn't notice that he didn't reply as she walked away and tried to hail down a transport, a small vehicle pulled up, and just before she got in she looked back to see Alex's back retreating further down the sidewalk; a lump came to her throat, her legs felt unsteady, she sat down quickly and muttered the address to the driver.

Resting her head in the palm of her hand against the window, she shut her eyes, trying to shut out the rest of the world and the thoughts that came to her; thoughts of Alex, and of their new---or old---enemy, thoughts of the clip she had seen of her past love battling the same robot in a different time, and the team she had called upon yet again to help her.

The transport pulled to a halt in front of her apartment building, she stepped out to find a gentle rain had begun falling, and took a moment to enjoy it before going inside; she felt a small shiver as she made her way up the long flight of stairs and entered her room, a cozy little place with dull lighting and simple furniture. A bed with a pale, pink spread her mother had made . . . a soft couch in front of an old-fashioned fireplace, a table in front of it where she liked to rest her drink while curling up to read a book or reminisce after a long day's work . . . she had spent so little time there since she bought it shortly after her return to the present, too busy at her new job to enjoy her home.

She looked around, her eyes finally settling on the communication device set on the table next to her bed, she longed to sit down and type in the correct keys, to talk to him again; but it was strictly for emergencies, Captain Logan had warned her, not to be used unless absolutely necessary. If only . . . Wait. In a way it was an emergency, she needed vital information about this robot, they were still unsure of who it was, and Wes might know; she convinced herself enough, and hurried over, her fingers flying over the keyboard till the screen popped up with the list of contacts:

Wes Collins. Silver Hills, CA. 21st CENTURY.

Swallowing hard, she clicked his name and the year she wanted, then waited . . . and waited . . . at last, a figure began to appear and slowly took shape: A man in a dark uniform, light hair, a strong jaw . . . but she slammed her hand down on the Cancel key moments before they could see each other face-to-face. No.

The year 2006, Wes had gone on with his life and met another woman, had probably forgotten about her, he didn't need to be reminded and have his future life put at risk just so she could speak to him one more time; who knew the impact her contact could have on him, and his relationship with his future wife. I can't put all of that at stake, for my personal reasons. Wes deserves better. He deserves to have a good life.

With shaking hands, she shut down the comm-link and undressed, then crawled into bed and lay perfectly still, willing sleep to come to her; after a few more minutes, she sat up again and looked into her computer screen, going through her old files, files she had saved for a reason she still didn't know. Some had come off the databanks, fateful battles back in the year 2001 . . . others were home made . . . not paying attention to what she was clicking, she selected one as she reached over for her water. She froze in mid-sip at the voices she heard coming from the screen:

"Come on, Alex, don't be shy. Play it up for the camera! That's it . . . damn, that's sexy."

"So when do I get to play around with the camera? I'm dying to see you on it."

She looked at it hesitantly, knowing exactly what she would see: She was holding the camera, and it was pointing at a half-nude Alex, dressed only in a pair of shorts and lounging on that same couch comfortably, a lazy smile on his face. Unable to tear her eyes away, she continued to watch:

Alex stood up quickly and grabbed Jen around the waist as she giggled, placing a few kisses on her neck and working his way up to nibble playfully on her earlobe. "Alex!" Jen squealed, "I'm trying to make a movie here."

"I hope it's not for Mom and Dad," Alex said in a muffled laugh, his lips still caressing her neck.

"Something tells me . . . " she tried to inch away " . . . they wouldn't want to see it."

"It's about to be X-Rated."

"Alex!"

Jen smiled wistfully as Alex snatched the camera away from her and set it aside, the screen showed him scooping her up in his strong arms, then they disappeared; she shut the video off, but it still played on in her mind: It had been their one year anniversary, after a romantic dinner, when she pulled out the camera and tried to record. A year of love . . . a year before that love would come to a crashing halt . . .

A part of her curious to see more, she went on and clicked another icon, feeling unexpected tears forming in her eyes when the screen showed Alex chasing her around the lake on her family's property miles away; her mother was taking the images, her cheerful voice yelling out to Jen as she jumped into the water, Alex behind her. The memory of that day continued where the video did not . . .

. . . Jen landed in the water with a splash and vigorously tried to swim away, but Alex's strength overwhelmed her and she soon felt his thick arms encircling her, then his soft lips against the back of her neck; she smiled, but scolded him: "Mom is watching!"

Alex glanced back. "Oh, no she's not," he chuckled, "your mom went inside." He winked. "She knew what was coming."

"Alex . . ."

She was silenced by his mouth covering her's in a hungry kiss, her arms went around his neck and pulled him closer to her, longing for him to touch her everywhere; she opened her eyes, they locked with his, and they gazed into one another . . .

. . . it had been only three months before he had proposed. Jen shut the screen off again, unable to watch anymore, but she couldn't block out everything, and the memories went on; the happiness, the contentment, the pure love, a future as bright as could be. That's the way they were.

Maybe we still could be.

Automatically, she reprimanded herself for even thinking about it for a split second, it wasn't possible, they couldn't get past everything, not now; she lied down again, letting out a long breath and closing her eyes, lying to herself once again. I am happy here . . . like this.

And, on the other side of the city, Alex sat up in his own bed, longing for sleep but knowing it wouldn't come to him; he held a tiny ring in his hand, staring at it for an amount of time unknown to him. He was still, holding it tenderly and remembering a time when it was around the finger of the woman he loved; how long he had agonized about which ring to purchase, and how to "pop the question" and where. He didn't have much money, it was all he could afford at the time, and he was so nervous . . .

. . . he held the clear box in between his hands, clasped firmly over the edge of the balcony, as he chatted aimlessly with Jen during the court recess; he tried to calm his nerves, but it was useless, so many things were running through his mind, so quickly: ThebattleRansiktheringJennifertheverdicttheirfuturejust ask her.

"That'd be a nice change," he vaguely heard her say, "to actually have a date with my boyfriend!"

He had the perfect opportunity . . . and seized it. "Actually," he said, turning to her, "I was thinking of something a little more permanent." He watched her eyes widen in shock as he pulled out the box and opened it to reveal the ring, bought with little money but so much love; he took it out and held her hand in his, placing the ring on her finger, relieved he didn't resist.

"Jennifer," he said, softly," will you marry me . . . ?"

TBC