I do not own Power Rangers: Jungle Fury
Dom and Fran are adorbs.
Places in Books
Train by Train
"Dom, Dom, listen to this, okay, ahem, . . . 'Any fool could be a witch with a runic knife, but it took skill to be one with an apple corer.'"
It's not the Pirate Skeleton, no, she finished that ages ago . . .
"Just hanging out with my friends."
Dom grins, nods, expression appropriately appreciative of such finely penned prose.
Especially from an English satirist who so happened to also be a self-described urban cowboy.
"Oh man, that's great. Keep going."
And Fran, already nodding along, suddenly glitches to a halt.
"Huh?"
Dom grins, gesturing encouragingly.
"Keep reading. Aloud. I want to hear more."
And Fran blushes, stammers.
"Really?"
Dom, bright blue eyes alit, nods again.
"Yeah. I mean, if you don't mind."
And Fran feels her blush and grin spreading.
"Oh. Uh, okay. Um . . ."
And she finds her place again.
Drums up her courage.
And continues on, reading aloud from the fantastically brilliant, vastly entertaining book she found for herself . . .
"What did you find? Hey, that looks good! Here-"
"Dom, no, I can pay-"
"Sure. So can I. Consider it my thanks for finding this place."
"Dom-"
"Fran-"
. . . deep within the stacks of The Secret Book Market.
"'. . . was an old-fashioned witch.'"
As the train to somewhere rattled along its tracks.
"'She didn't do good for people . . .'"
The picturesque fields and valleys and mountains of someplace . . .
"'. . . she did right by them."
. . . whizzing peacefully out the open window beside them.
They've the toured solemn remains of Dachau.
"What do those words on the gate mean?"
The museum.
"'Arbeit macht'. Work sets you free."
The prisoner barracks.
"They thought if they worked, they could leave?"
The showers.
"Yeah. But Nazis meant work until death and in death there is freedom."
The watchtowers.
"Oh my gosh."
The ovens.
"That's awful."
And of course, the film.
"I know."
And chill so deep in her bones . . .
How? How could people do that to other people?
. . . it super secedes the chills she felt in the dungeons.
Why are people always thinking up ways to hurt other people so badly?
And Francis Faye Fugleman does not want to look anymore.
Will there always be such evil in the world?
But knows she cannot dismiss by looking away.
"Are you alright, Frannie?"
"Yeah, yeah. It's just so awful."
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."
"Why? You didn't cause it."
"I know. But I brought you here."
"You did. And you were right to. It's important to remember what happened. Maybe remembering will save the future."
"Yeah. That's true."
Another day, another train.
There is no room to sit, every seat is full.
And since they didn't want to wait.
"Not a big deal for me. You?"
"No, I'm good."
They just found a storage car.
"You okay?"
"Yes, umm hmm."
And hunkered down.
Fran, legs bent, one up, one down, back relatively comfortable against the wall.
"I'm just gonna read."
"Sounds good. I'm gonna catch some shut eye."
Dom laid out close, pack cushioning his head, seeming to sleep.
She's just very, well, okay and alright.
Which is a big deal. For me.
It goes on like this for a while.
Fran reading, hand up to her mouth, fingers tapping here and there lightly.
And then she slowly becomes aware of a feeling . . .
Huh?
. . . of being watched.
She draws her eyes away from her book.
Peeking over the top.
Searching for . . .
Who's there?
. . . the source of the feeling.
And sees . . .
Oh.
Who are you?
. . . someone else.
Someone she's never seen before.
A man, well, guy.
He seems to be about her age.
Nondescript and nonthreatening.
With a group of people, all having taken the floor just like her and Dom.
He's reclined, the guy is. Relaxed.
And, clearly, looking at her.
His gaze drops as it meets hers, caught.
And Fran shifts hers away.
Why?
And then, against her will, sneaks back.
To see his back to her again.
Why is he looking at me?
And she tries to keep her eyes on her book, she tries.
But the words are meaningless as she reads the same lines over and over.
Whilst her wandering eyes surreptitiously, well, wander.
It's not that she even likes this guy, she's never even seen this guy.
He's just a guy. On a train.
That's clearly . . .
Well, that's just silly, Frances.
Look at you.
. . . looking at her.
Hint of a smile on his lips.
"I think you have a secret admirer."
And she startles, just a little.
It was barely more than a Dom murmur.
But her blush, already raging out of control, . . .
"Yeah, well, . . ."
. . . threatens to engulf the entire surrounding area.
". . . he clearly must be crazy."
And she, with tremendous effort, pulls her eyes resolutely back to her book.
"He's not crazy."
Only to have them sneak back once again to the stranger on the floor . . .
"You're really pretty, Fran."
. . . against her will.
"Maybe discovering this secret admirer will finally convince you of that fact."
They depart at Prague.
Leaving the guy on the train without even so much as a word.
Though Fran cannot help a quick backward glance.
That rewards her with another directed eye contact, the smallest of smiles, and . . .
Oh.
Really?
. . . a fluttering in her tummy . . .
Okay.
. . . she thought was only reserved for . . .
Bye then.
And then it's over and she's out of the train floor secret admirer bubble and . . .
"You okay, Fran?"
. . .out in the harsh light . . .
"Huh? Oh. Yeah, yeah. Fine."
. . . of day.
"Did you want to talk to him?"
And the directness of the Dom.
"What? Oh gosh, no. What would I say?"
Hi, I'm Fran.
Why are you looking at me?"
Well, 'hi' for starters, I think."
And she feels confused.
Hang on-
"Did you want me to go talk to him?'
Are you trying to get rid of me?
And Dom's tone is gentle.
"I want you to be free to do whatever you want to do, Fran."
Then he relents.
"I also don't want to lose my backpacking buddy."
Buddy?
And then he smiles.
And she . . .
Oh.
. . . melts.
I so insanely like the fact that Dom doesn't go all jealous alpha male type at the discovery of Fran and some guy making eyes at each other.
I'm positive he would be protective if something happened.
I'm also positive he's just a really awesome guy who's probably grinning to himself, thinking, good for you, Frannie. About time you figured it out.
He also has no foot to stand on. She needs a little harmless flirtation after him chasing after Maryl right in front of her.
Also, the book Fran is reading is Carpe Jugulum, by Terry Pratchett. Absolutely brilliant writing. Check it out.
Anyway, thanks for reading. :)
