Wouldn't It Be Lovely?
A/N: Man, it's been so long since I've written something on here! Was it supposed to be a completely new story instead of continuing Calculated Risk? Absolutely not, but here we are. If anyone knows of the app Choices, it's a "choose your own adventure/story" type game where the player is the MC (main character) and they get to select what their character and most likely their main love interest looks like. This story is based off of the series The Royal Romance, most specifically Book 1. I'm going to try to stay within the main story beats while putting in my own influence here and there while hopefully keeping the cast from the show in character. Also while this story is listed as Jungle Fury, there's going to be a host of guest appearances from other seasons. I'll explain more later, this author's note is getting long enough. ;)
This story is dedicated to my biggest enabler and fellow writer ChibiDawn23. I don't know how I'd get through fandom life without you my friend. Go read her stories while you're at it! She's awesome!
Disclaimer: I don't own Power Rangers, Choices or any of the pop culture references that happen to appear in this story.
Chapter One: A Night You Can't Forget
Lights flared and twinkled as horns beeped and chatter filled the night air as Ocean Bluff came to life once the sun slipped past the horizon. Francesca Morelli grunted as she hefted a bag of garbage over the lip of the dumpster that was located behind The Greenhouse, a small restaurant styled to represent a tavern. Fran worked there as a waitress to put herself through school alongside the partial scholarship she'd been granted upon receiving the college's acceptance.
With a sigh, she blew a loose chestnut tendril out of her eyes and gave her companion a tired grin. "Another glamorous night in Ocean Bluff, eh Ryan?"
Ryan Mitchell, a senior waiter whom it was rumored was up for the position of assistant manager, laughed. "It does get a bit mundane some nights," he agreed. "School did just let out for the summer, a lot of people I know are taking vacations, so it makes sense that it'd be slow during the week."
"At least it gives me a chance to work on my own plans," Fran mused as she and Ryan started to head back into the restaurant.
"You want to be a writer, yeah?" Ryan asked as he held the door open for her.
"I do," Fran confirmed. "I want to write plays... or maybe children's stories. If that doesn't work out, I want to open a bookshop at least."
Ryan opened his mouth to voice his encouragement when a cool, borderline condescending voice cut in. "And while those dreams are adorable Fran, I need you focused on the present."
Fran and Ryan turned to face a lithe blonde with ice blue eyes and haughty sneer affixed upon her visage. Leelee Pimvare, the Greenhouse's manager commanded attention anywhere she went and knew how to make even the most powerful and influential feel small. "There's a bachelor party that's just waltzed in and I need either you, Austen or you, man o' war or Superman or whatever to attend to them." She snapped her glossy scarlet tipped fingers. "Now."
Fran started to head back into the restaurant when she noticed that Ryan wasn't walking beside her. Turning, she blinked in surprise when she took in the look of panic on his face. "What's up?"
"Tonight's Kelsey's roller derby championship!" He whispered, horrified. "It starts in fifteen minutes and it's six blocks away! I can't miss the start, she'll kill me!"
Roller derby was how Ryan had met his wife, Kelsey. He'd gone by the name Titanium Crusher, though Leelee had been close enough in her own way with remembering that detail.
Kelsey was much more passionate about the sport than her husband was however and hoped that one day it would be considered an Olympic event. Though the woman was athletic enough that she could most likely enter through whatever event she wanted.
"Your anniversary is tomorrow," Fran reminded him. "No way she'd kill you tonight."
"Oh yeah, because being murdered for my third year wedding anniversary is way more romantic."
Fran laughed as she rolled her eyes before gently punching her friend on the arm. "Relax, dude. I'll take the table. You go cheer Kelsey on for the both of us."
Ryan pulled her into a quick sidehug. "Thanks, Fran! You're the best!"
"Yes, I am!" Fran quipped. She gave him a light shove. "Now get going before Madam Frost forces you to stay!"
"Aye aye Captain," Ryan snickered as he began to make a stealthy getaway.
Fran shook her head at her co-worker's antics and straightened her apron, tugging at her uniform top before rolling back her shoulders in an attempt to stave off any exhaustion that aimed to settle into her muscles. It was only eight o'clock at night. No way should she be this tired just yet.
She sighed through her nose before plastering on her best customer service smile. As she walked toward the bachelor party, her friend Clare's advice floated through her mind:
"Smile like Barbie and act like a Disney princess... but... maybe not like Merida... or Mulan, for that matter."
Stifling a giggle at the advice, Fran greeted the group. "Welcome to The Greenhouse! Thank you for your patience while waiting. My name is Fran and I'll be your server for this evening. Now what can I get you to start?"
A floppy haired brunet flashed her an attempt at a "devil may care" smile. "We'll take your best top shelf wine!" He declared.
"Alright. Would you like the Briarwood Rosé, the Angel Grove Blanc or the Mirinoi Red?" Fran asked, her pen poised over her notepad, waiting for the order.
"Got anything a little more... international?" The first guy asked.
"We tend to support local businesses over any others," Fran replied with an apologetic half shrug. "Besides, we just hosted a wedding reception and a lot of our supply was devoted to that."
"Never mind the ancient grape juice," a second dark haired male cut in bluntly. "Got any beer or whiskey?"
"We've got a pretty rich, smokey Jack Daniels."
"We'll take it," he insisted. "And four porterhouse steaks."
Fran nodded as she wrote down the order then paused, furrowing her brow in confusion as she registered the number of steaks ordered compared to the number of guys sitting in the booth in front of her. "Four...?"
Whiskey Guy nodded his head to a point just over her shoulder. Turning, Fran found herself almost colliding with yet another dark haired guy. His hair was close to shoulder length and appeared shaggy in texture. But it was his sea green eyes, wide with surprise at their near collision that caused her stomach to flip.
"Whoa! I am so sorry miss!" He offered her a sheepish grin as he took a hasty step back. "I got a little lost in thought while checking out the art on the walls. I didn't realize I had arrived at the table already."
Without thinking, he reached out and straightened her glasses that had been knocked askew when she'd been startled, fingertips gently skimming her face.
That action, combined with his smooth, down to earth voice sent her heart skittering. "O-oh, no problem!" She squeaked, smiling a touch too widely as she swerved around him. "Let me just get this order to the kitchen!"
Fran made a beeline for the kitchen, hoping that by the time she returned to the table, the flush that suffused her cheeks would fade.
It was nearing eleven thirty, the time the restaurant closed when Fran felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning, she found herself facing the extremely cute guy for the second time that night. "I just wanted to apologize again for nearly knocking you over earlier," he said. "And for keeping you past your clock out time...or so your manager was grumbling. Apparently you're close to overtime?"
Fran winced. "Yeah... that doesn't surprise me in all honesty. I'll handle your bill and then I'll clock out."
She headed toward the register to ring him out when he called out to her. "Wait!" He hurried over to her side. "Actually, I need your help."
Fran raised a brow at that. "Oh?"
He gestured to the table his friends still occupied. "The guys were hoping to keep the party going... you wouldn't happen to know of any places still open now, would you?"
"Actually," Fran mused. "I do know one place you and your friends might like." She slanted him a pointed look. "However I'm not entirely sure I'm comfortable with leading a group of strangers around my hometown."
"I'm RJ," he replied as he proffered a hand.
"Fran," she returned as she shook his hand.
RJ grinned and turned back to his table. "The blonde goofball is Dominic but almost everyone calls him Dom, the brown haired dude with an obnoxious fashion sense is Conner and the one in red is Casey."
"Nice descriptions for your friends," Fran noted with some mirth. She finished handling his bill before handing over the pile of receipts as the guys had insisted on splitting the bill though they hadn't let RJ pay. Maybe this was his bachelor party?
Pushing away the sudden bout of discomfort at the thought of getting butterflies over an engaged man, Fran pasted a smile on her face as she entered her information to clock out on the computer. "All set!" She informed RJ. "I'll meet you guys out front in ten?"
"Take your time," RJ assured her.
"So, fifteen minutes?"
RJ laughed and shook his head as he headed back to his table.
Fran began to untie her apron as she did her best not to grin foolishly. She had a feeling that her night, not to mention her life was about to get a lot more interesting...
True to her word, Fran was ready to lead the guys to the next destination of the night within ten minutes. She stretched her muscles, grateful to be out of her stuffy grey and black uniform that she was made to wear to "add a level of class" to the restaurant that was honestly only a step and a half above a dive.
When she stepped out into the cool night air, she found the guys within seconds. As one, all four men paused their conversation at her approach, turning in her direction.
"Dang," Casey noted softly.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Fran asked as she took an obvious glance at her outfit consisting of dark jeans, boots, soft plum t-shirt and black motorcycle jacket. She pushed her loose waves of brown hair out of her face as she straightened up, a smirk playing lightly about her lips.
"Definitely a good thing," RJ assured her with a soft grin that totally did not send her heart into overtime.
She smiled sheepishly at him. "Thanks."
"Way better than that uniform," Conner noted.
"Yeah, waitress girl is hot," Dominic added.
RJ gave him a side-eye stare. "Her name is Fran and I'm pretty sure she doesn't need to be ogled like she's a piece of meat."
'Not the first time it's happened to me,' Fran thought idly but decided not to voice the comment out loud. She clapped her hands once. "Well, I guess if everyone approves of my outfit, we can get going to the next part of the night." She began walking down the sidewalk. "Shall we?"
She lead them down the sidewalk and turned the corner, waking halfway down another sidewalk before coming to a shop.
"A bookstore?" Casey asked, voice heavy with skepticism. "Look, I know Dom is a total bookworm and RJ definitely likes a few series here and there but unless there's comics, I don't see how this is a place to take a bachelor party."
Fran looked over her shoulder and winked. "Not everything is what it seems, gentlemen."
Opening the door, she ushered the group inside. She stifled a snicker at their polite glances around the store-well, Dominic definitely seemed interested- and gestured for them to follow her all the way to a large bookshelf in the very back. Scanning the books for a moment, she located what she was looking for-a copy of The Great Gatsby and pulled on the book like a lever.
Immediately, the entire shelf slid to the left revealing a room about the size of a studio apartment complete with bar and dance floor along with a small DJ booth. A handful of tables were scattered along the perimeter of the room. Colorful lights flashed near the dance floor while fairy lights sparkled merrily above the bar and tables.
The boys were floored.
"Talk about deception," Conner murmured, intrigued.
"I didn't even hear the music coming from the other side," Dom added.
RJ glanced at her, a grin etching onto his face. "Is this...a speakeasy?"
"Sure is!" Fran beamed. "Boys, welcome to Fireheart!"
"Nice," Casey breathed as he stepped further into the secret club, checking it out.
Conner and Dom immediately headed for the dance floor while Casey made his way to the bar. RJ lingered near Fran. "This place is amazing," he said.
"I'm glad I could deliver." She nodded to a couple of empty tables. "Wanna sit for a bit or are you up for dancing?"
RJ took in the scene before him thoughtfully. "Normally I love dancing, but right now I'd rather just sit and maybe talk if you don't have anywhere you'd rather be?"
"Well, it's not a school night so I'm game for staying and talking," Fran replied.
RJ looked at her curiously as he led her over to the tables. "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"
"Twenty-two," Fran answered. "I'll be twenty- three in a little bit. I'm getting my master's in creative writing but it's summer break, hence the lack of a school night."
"Nice."
"And you?" Fran asked. "Are you in school?"
"Ah no," RJ began as they sat down. "But my job certainly is... interesting to say the least."
A curious light shone in Fran's amber eyes. "What is it you do? Ooh, wait. If you tell me, do you have to kill me?"
RJ snorted, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in what felt like months. "No." He took a breath, centering himself. "Fran, I'm-"
"Hey, Fran," Casey said as he approached the table. "The bartender says he needs your help...?" He trailed off, unsure if the man really knew Fran.
Glancing at the bartender, Fran caught the desperate gaze of a tall male with short, spiky dark brown hair and warm brown eyes clad in a forest green shirt and jeans waving in an attempt to get her attention.
She shot Casey a grin. "That's my friend Xander," she explained. "Better go see what he needs."
Fran made a beeline for the bar. "What's up?" She asked over the music.
"Fran!" Xander cried, relief palpable in his voice. "Boy am I glad to see you. I'm really behind on orders. Can you spare ten minutes and help me catch up, pretty pretty please?"
Fran pretended to be annoyed. "You're lucky we're practically family, dude." She shed her jacket and tossed it onto the hook where Xander kept his while he worked. "How can I help?"
He handed her a small pile of ten tickets. "Can you get through these?"
She gave a mock salute. "I'm on it."
He pressed a noisy kiss to her cheek. "You're the best, Frannie."
Fran pulled an exaggerated face and playfully batted him away. "Ew, cooties."
"Pfft, you know you love me."
Fran finished off her first order and handed it out before pinching her thumb and forefinger close together. "Like this much."
Xander pretended to sob. "You wound me."
"I try."
He laughed and continued catching up on orders as Fran worked through the orders. Once the last one was handed out, Fran quickly made two Shirley Temples. Adding the cherries, she scooped them up and went back to her table where surprisingly RJ was actually still sitting.
"Still not up for dancing?" She asked as she placed a drink down in front of him, not noticing him try not to stare at the lean muscle of her bare arm as she sat herself down across from him.
"Eh," RJ shrugged as he looked at his drink. "Not tonight. Wait... is this a Shirley Temple?" He grinned, excited. "I haven't had one of these in years!"
Fran gasped in faux surprise. "Oh you poor deprived soul."
RJ nodded seriously. "I am indeed." He lasted three seconds before snickering. "The DJ's got pretty great taste in music."
"That's Vida," Fran said. "She's actually a friend of mine."
"Just like Xander?"
"Yeah! Actually I'm friends with the entire staff. Well, my cousin Chip runs the bookshop part and he hosts DnD campaigns like twice a month. He's dating Vida actually. V's sister Madison handles advertising and sometimes she bartends."
"Sounds like you've got a pretty tight group here."
"Yeah," Fran agreed with a fond smile playing about her lips. "We're all family, blood and not."
"So..." Fran glanced at RJ through her eyelashes. "Mind telling me whose bachelor party I'm technically crashing?"
RJ smiled a bit ruefully. "Mine."
Firmly stamping out any disappointment at those words, Fran pasted a friendly smile on her face. "Oh, congratulations then!"
RJ chuckled dryly. "Ah...I wouldn't congratulate me just yet...I haven't exactly found my future bride."
Wait, what?
RJ squirmed in his seat a bit at the look of confusion on Fran's face. He bit his lip in thought for a moment before shrugging and decided to explain. "Have you... heard of a country called Cordonia?"
Fran thought for a minute. "It's a small island nation nestled in the Mediterranean, yeah? Off the... western Italian coast?"
RJ smiled at her, impressed. "You know your geography."
She smiled, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "I'm actually a third generation American descendant from Italy," she admitted. "Family from both Tuscany and Florence."
"Nice. You ah..."He scratched the back of his head in a clear attempt to both stave off nerves and buy himself some time before he had to confess. "Happen to know that Cordonia is a monarchy?"
"I think I remember that."
RJ's smile became tight as he gestured with jazz hands. "I'm the crown prince."
Fran tried her best to not stare in shock. When she found her voice after a minute, she barely managed to not squeak. "I have to say, RJ suits you much better than Robert."
RJ laughed, his smile becoming genuine again. "I completely agree."
"So you're not actually betrothed?" Fran ventured.
"Not yet," RJ confirmed. "There's a tradition in Cordonia that the future spouse of the crown prince or princess must be selected after a mere few months known as the social season."
"A few months?"
"Yep. About three to four months of public events and I'm supposed to choose a wife at the end of it."
"Sounds like the Bachelor," Fran muttered before clapping a hand over her mouth in embarrassment. "Um... any chance you didn't actually hear that?"
"Totally heard that," RJ teased. "So sorry, I can't pretend otherwise. Press is there too so there are definitely cameras around."
Fran reached out and gently patted his hand. "My condolences."
"You sound just like Casey."
She shot him a look. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"If you want it to be."
"So why choose Ocean Bluff of all places to have a bachelor party fit for royalty?" She asked, fiddling with her cherry stem. "And why have a party when you aren't even engaged yet? "
"Heh, that was Dom and Casey's idea," RJ explained. "They wanted me to relax and not focus on the coming months. I just asked that it be somewhere not too well known."
"Ocean Bluff is a good choice for that," Fran concurred. "Sure we're in California, but we're just a small beach town. Not exactly overflowing with tourists but we do pretty well anyway."
"Actually despite this being a beach town, I haven't even been to the beach."
"What?" Fran asked, not expecting that. "What have you been doing all this time?"
"Getting dragged all over Angel Grove and Mariner Bay," RJ replied. "We just stayed in a hotel here. While the other cities were nice, they were a little too crowded for my liking. At least, for a prince who wanted to deal with his upcoming engagement in peace."
"We could go now if you want," Fran offered.
"Aren't the beaches closed to the public now?"
"Only if you don't know the right people," Fran returned with a wink. "Be right back."
Intrigued, RJ turned to watch Fran as she walked back to the bar. She had a quiet conversation with Xander who grinned at her, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a swat in return. He laughed and fetched something from the wall behind him and handed it to Fran. She walked back to him and held out her hand. "Shall we, Prince Charming?"
RJ looked out to the dance floor. Dom and Conner were both preoccupied with trying to chat up a few people while Casey stood near the DJ booth, alternating between nursing the whiskey he held and holding some semblance of a conversation with Vida. 'Aw, I'm proud of him.'
He stood and slipped his hand into Fran's. "We shall, my lady."
A fun little headcanon of mine woven throughout my writing is that Chip from Mystic Force and Fran from Jungle Fury are cousins. Don't ask me why, I just think it's cute and it works. And wherever Chip goes as Fran's cousin, the Mystic Force Rangers tend to follow. Except for one, apparently. Hmm...