Theme Challenge: Bridge and Z
From the Ars Amatoria Ranger Romance Themes Challenge
Challenge: #35—Dream
Disclaimer: I don't own Power Rangers.
A/N: Set whenever; to give a time-frame, I'd say any time after Stakeout.
Dream
"Bridge, are you all right? You haven't touched your toast."
"Huh? Oh, I'm fine, Z, really. I just…I guess I'm just not hungry." He punctuates his statement with a particularly violent coughing fit, and Z immediately places a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles.
"Are you sure? That cough didn't sound too good."
"Actually," he wheezes between coughs, "by cough standards, that was pretty strong, which is good for a cough. You don't want to be a weak cough. All the other coughs will laugh at you."
"Oh, boy. I think you have a fever. That was even more random than usual."
He doesn't even have a comeback, just more hacking coughs. Z sighs and rests a cool hand on his forehead. "Bridge, you do have a fever. You're not working today."
"But I have a shift at—"
"I don't want to hear it, Bridge. I'll getsomeone to cover for you. Here, let's get you back to your room." She takes his arm gently and starts toward the living quarters.
"I can still walk," he protests feebly. She smiles.
"Barely. Come on."
She leads him back to his room with minimal coughing and watches as he climbs into his bed, waiting until he is settled before tucking the comforter around his shoulders and stroking his hair, as if he were a little boy. Then she disappears into the bathroom, emerging a few moments later with cough syrup (where'd she find that?), a glass of water, and a wet washcloth. She sets the water and cough syrup on his nightstand and gently smoothes the cloth over his forehead. His eyes close in temporary relief.
"Thanks," he manages to utter through his sore throat. She smiles and wordlessly smoothes the washcloth again in a gesture of affection before unscrewing the cough syrup cap and pouring a dose for him in the little plastic cup. He makes a face.
"You know that stuff is disgusting," he tells her, sticking his tongue out. She laughs.
"I don't care. I'm not the one drinking it. Now take it. Do you want to get better or not?"
"You sound like my mom," he grumbles teasingly, but grudgingly throws the liquid down his throat anyway. She laughs, and strokes his hair again, making him momentarily forget about the incredibly nasty aftertaste in his mouth. Her hand then slips away, down to his, and he hears the ripping sound of Velcro being torn apart. His eyes widen considerably.
"What—?" Her fingers flutter over his lips.
"They'll only make you feel warmer," she tells him, slowly pulling the leather off each finger. "I know you're not used to not wearing them, but trust me. You'll feel much better."
And she was right. As soon as the gloves slipped off, he could begin to feel relief seep into his skin, not just because he was cooler, but because he could more directly feel the calm, soothing feelings Z was projecting.
She takes his hand, her thumb moving in circles over his palm, and a golden yellow energy begins to surround him. It's not her aura; this feels much more intense and more...beautiful than just a simple aura reading. He'd never really explored this aspect of his powers before, and he wonders fleetingly if this is a reading of Z, the deep-down-inside Z that no one can really see, her soul, her core…he isn't sure. But if it is, he decides that she is truly beautiful, radiant, and maybe someday when he's not so feverish, he'll tell her.
His breaths become deeper and regular, and he's nearing sleep, but through the haze of gold and the fever, he picks out her voice again.
"My mama used to sing this to me when I was little…Sweet dreams, Bridge." He catches parts of a lullaby before sinking deeper into the luminous golden fog and into a soft sleep…
Dreams are on the nightwind, and dreams are in my heart,
And when one dream has ended, another dream will start…
You are my moon and stars, and my greatest dream is always
That we'll never, ever have to be apart…
Z watches as Bridge finally slips into sleep, and smiles. Kissing the top of his head, she clicks off the lamp and leaves the room quietly, wishing him beautiful dreams and relief from his fever.
Bridge stirs, but does not wake. She's not in the room anymore, but the golden haze still lingers in his dream.
Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far, especially Funky In Fishnet, Etcetera Kit (eee! EK likes my stories! eee!), Monkey-leo, BloomingViolets (eee! BV likes my stories! eee!), Weesta (eee! Weesta likes my stories! eee!), Hybryd0, Islandgurlie12, Neo Aquni,grabbagirl, and Jillie chan---all of you rock my socks! Oh, and for those of you waiting for a kiss or something major along those lines, don't worry. I want it to happen as much as you do! And it'll happen soon, I promise :) Thanks and please review!