Though the Dragon Waits

by Starhawk

In the wake of A Squad's disappearance, Sky wonders who cares enough to look for the lost.

4. Recognition

Chapter 4: "Recognition"

He had almost stopped being surprised when Cruger told him the Triforian Rangers wanted to brief B Squad on the status of the search. Jack wondered what these Rangers would say if he told them that he had never met A Squad, that he hadn't even known their names until Kat gave him a file and told him and Z to learn them. He wondered if Bridge and Syd felt their loss any more keenly.

He was pretty sure Sky didn't miss them. Not personally, at least. Sky seemed to take their disappearance harder on a professional level, as though he couldn't quite reconcile himself to the fact that an entire team of Power Rangers could simply... fail. Fall. Vanish, never to be heard from again. It must do terrible things to his worldview.

Jack didn't know, not for certain. He was going to find out tonight. It was just one of many things he meant to learn about his teammates, which was why he'd told them to cancel their evening off and meet him in the B Wing lounge at eight o'clock sharp. Syd was the only one who protested--she and Z had planned go out--but Z took one look at his expression and said they could do it another night.

When she found out why, she and Syd ended up going out anyway, a brief run into town between dinner and the meeting, and Jack just shrugged it off. He'd gotten alcohol into the cadet levels; presumably they could do it too. He knew perfectly well how good Z was at smuggling things around.

They were back by the time he strode into the lounge. Bridge was there too, watching Z and Syd play an idle game of "War" with holographic cards. He and Sky were still in their SPD uniforms, but Sky had his feet up on the table and he nodded to Jack when he came in. His eyes went almost immediately to the bottle in Jack's hand, so Jack set it down before he pulled up a chair.

"Look," he said, not waiting for anything else. "We almost killed Sky today."

Just like that, Jack had everyone's attention.

"Sky almost killed Sky today," he continued. "To keep us safe. To protect the city. All very noble, no one's saying it wasn't, but what it comes down to is that we let him down. Big time."

Sky didn't say anything, and his quiet was more damning than words.

"What went down today can never happen again," Jack told them. "I don't care how clever the criminals are, how many tricks they have up their sleeve, whatever. I care about us and the fact that we don't even know each other well enough to recognize an imposter when we hold a fucking conversation with him."

Syd shifted uncomfortably on the couch, but she didn't speak either.

"So this is what we're going to do about," Jack said. "We're going to get to know each other. Commander Cruger has authorized a lockdown of B Wing: starting now, no one gets in or out before six tomorrow morning for anything except emergencies."

Z and Syd exchanged glances. He hadn't mentioned that part of the plan when he'd been talking to them earlier. But it was important to him that they all feel safe, that no one was worrying about who might walk in, and that no one else on base could request their presence unless it was really necessary.

"What constitutes an emergency?" Bridge wondered aloud.

"Fire," Jack told him. "Flood. Grumm attacking."

"What about a plague of locusts?" Bridge asked.

Jack couldn't help smiling. "Yeah, okay. If locusts invade, we can leave."

"What's with the alcohol?" Sky wanted to know. He made it sound like Jack had brought a camera or something.

"Ah," Jack said, reaching back to retrieve the bottle and hold it up so everyone could see: "Tequila. It comes with rules."

Sky eyed him skeptically. "I can't believe the commander approved anything involving hard liquor."

Jack shrugged. "He approved an overnight lock-in for the purposes of team building. I was a little vague with the details."

Sky snorted, leaving his feet on the table while he folded his arms. "I don't drink tequila."

"Oh, good," Z said, insincerely bright. Leaning over the side of the couch, she picked up a bottle off the floor and set it on the table beside his feet. "You can share the whiskey, then."

Sky stared at her. "How did you get that stuff in here?" he demanded. "Even the officers aren't allowed to have alcohol on base."

"Yeah," Z said, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure it's totally dry."

"Rules," Jack reminded them. "Girls do two shots by midnight, guys do three. No more than one an hour. The point isn't to get drunk," he added, mostly for Sky's benefit.

"What is the point?" Sky demanded suspiciously.

"The point is to talk. Some of us seem to have trouble with that." Jack made a drinking motion in Z's general direction, and she rummaged around behind the couch until she came up with five shot glasses. "If you don't like shots, you can mix them with anything the synthesizer makes. Just drink, okay?"

"I'd rather not," Sky informed him.

"Yeah, well, there's a shock," Syd said, arranging the glasses Z had set out in a little circle. "One drink isn't going to make you say anything you don't want to, Sky."

"Three might," he said darkly.

"Well," Bridge offered, "we do have four hours until midnight. Hypothetically speaking, someone with your build could probably spread out three one-ounce shots over four hours in such a way that their blood alcohol content never got above .02."

"Which is more than enough to impair judgement and coordination," Sky snapped. "What if something happens? What if we get a call? What if night watch needs backup, or Grumm decides that tonight is the night Earth is going to fall?"

"I think he should have to do four shots," Syd told Z.

"You said it," Z agreed. "Sky, come on. We're allowed to take a night off. And it's not like there's no point. This is about making the team more effective, not less."

"Through irresponsible intoxication?" Sky countered. "I don't think so."

"You're not going to get drunk!" Jack exclaimed. "Geez, Sky, anyone would think you'd never--" He blinked as the thought occurred to him. "You do drink, don't you? I mean, you have? At some point?"

Sky scoffed. "Of course."

"I haven't," Bridge remarked. "Things tend to get a little strange when I consume alcohol. You should probably cut me off if I start to accidentally read your minds or something."

This prompted a moment of silence, and then Z said, "Maybe Bridge should be exempt from the three-shot rule."

"Yeah," Syd said quickly. "I think that's a good idea."

"This is ridiculous," Sky informed them.

"No." Jack glared at him. "What's ridiculous is the fact that a criminal in your body walked into Syd's room uninvited, talked to her, and walked out again. You and Syd have been training together for two years, and the destroyer of planets sounds like you to her! That's ridiculous, Sky!"

"I spent the day in the body of an alien criminal with a broken translator!" Sky shouted. "I had no way of communicating, I was shot on sight, and I had to fight myself! There's nothing about that that drinking is going to change!"

Jack didn't look away. "We screwed up," he said evenly. "All of us. It's not going to happen again, Sky. But you gotta meet us halfway."

Sky got up, got a soda from the synthesizer, and sat down again without a word to any of them. Fair enough, Jack thought with a sigh. If he really didn't want to drink, he didn't have to. It was too bad, though. Out of all of them, Sky was the one who most needed to loosen up.

He poured the soda into the shot glass. Only half full. Jack raised an eyebrow as he did the same thing to a second glass. Then Sky held out his hand expectantly, and Jack just stared at him.

"Well?" Sky demanded. He made a "come on" gesture with his hand.

Blinking, Jack handed over the tequila.

Sky splashed tequila into both of the glasses, leaving enough room at the top that it didn't spill when he shoved one of them in Jack's direction. Covering the other one with his right hand, he lifted the glass a little and banged it down on the table. Carbonation spilled over the side as he raised it to his mouth and downed the whole thing in one gulp.

He pulled a terrible face, but he didn't choke on it.

"Happy?" Sky demanded, dropping the glass on the table again. There was no mistaking the challenging look he gave Jack.

"Vaguely impressed," Jack admitted.

"I'm going to make something more civilized," Syd announced, standing up. "Does anyone else want juice?"

"I'll have some orange juice," Bridge said.

"I'll have some water," Z added. "Lots of water."

"You don't have to get that from the synthesizer," Syd pointed out, stepping around her on her way across the room.

Jack was trying to figure out how to seal his shot glass with his hand and still curl his fingers around it tightly enough to lift it. "How do you keep it from spilling?" he wanted to know.

"You don't," Sky told him. "The more you spill, the less you have to drink."

"You really do have bad associations with alcohol, don't you." Jack decided to go for it, slamming the glass down on the table and watching in fascination as it fizzed over the sides. By the time he realized he was supposed to drink it before that happened, rather than after, it was too late.

"Syd, could you get the boys a couple of towels?" Z called.

"Yes," Sky said, while Jack was choking down his shot. Half shot. Whatever.

"Yes, what?" he managed. He could feel the sting from the soda, of all things, right up into his nose.

"Yes," Sky repeated, "I have bad associations with alcohol."

Oh. He pressed his fingers to either side of his nose, wincing as the taste made itself known. The sting warred with the burn, and he shook his head. Seriously, worst way to drink tequila ever.

"You okay?" Sky sounded amused, and it was totally typical that this was what it took to get that tone from him.

"That has to be the worst way to drink tequila ever," Jack informed him, unable to keep the opinion to himself any longer. "That's awful."

Sky actually laughed, and that was when Syd dropped a hand towel in his lap, tossing another one at Sky on the couch. "You're such a sadist, Sky," she scolded. "Why can't you just make margaritas like everyone else?"

"Keep your girly drinks to yourself," he countered, leaning forward to wipe off the table with the towel she'd thrown at him. "If you're going to drink, you might as well get it over with."

"What kind of bad associations?" Jack asked, drying his hand on his own towel while he watched Sky not look at anyone.

Sky shrugged. He wiped off the outside of his empty shot glass, pushed it back toward the middle of the table, and reached for Jack's. "People do stupid things when they're drunk," he said. "They say stuff they shouldn't. I've seen a lot of perfectly good things ruined just because someone didn't know how to keep their mouth shut."

"You've seen it?" Jack repeated. Sky was setting his glass down, just out of reach. Maybe on purpose. "Or you've done it?"

"What do you care?" Sky snapped, glaring at him. As soon as their eyes met, though, Sky looked away. Like he'd remembered that the whole point of this evening was that they did care.

"Done it," he said under his breath.

Jack glanced across the table at the girls, who were using the remaining shot glasses to sample fruit juice mixes. "The color is as important as the taste," Bridge was telling them, as Syd handed him something that was at least superficially green.

He tried it, then said solemnly, "The taste is much more important than the color."

Jack got up and retrieved a couple of glasses from behind the counter. "Z, you get your water?" he called, as he filled them both from the tap.

"I'll get it in a minute," she answered, distracted. He got her a glass anyway, carrying the triangle of waters over to the table and setting them down to distribute them. One for Z, one for Sky, and he kept the last one for himself as he sat back down.

Z was arguing with Syd over what whiskey could or couldn't be mixed with, and she didn't seem to notice the water. The conversation was admittedly hilarious, but Jack was more interested in Sky's reaction when he realized one of the glasses was for him. He raised an eyebrow, then reached for the glass and lifted it in a mock-toast before drinking the entire thing at once.

Sky didn't do anything halfway, Jack thought, amused.

Without a word, he got up, refilled Sky's water glass, and brought it back. This time Sky just watched. Didn't say anything, didn't reach for the glass, just leaned back against the couch and stared at Jack like he was trying to figure him out.

"Done what?" Jack asked at last, sitting down again.

Sky glanced over at the door with a sigh. He rubbed his wrist absently. Nervous habit, maybe... except that Sky didn't have any. Unless becoming stiff as a board and half as charming counted. And that was his right wrist he was rubbing.

When their eyes met again, Jack dropped his gaze to Sky's wrist deliberately. Looking back up at his face, he nodded, and Sky sighed again. "He did this," Sky said quietly. "Once."

Jack frowned. "Did what?"

"Snuck alcohol onto the base," Sky told the door. Then he glanced back at Jack, staring at him for a long moment before he added, "Tequila."

Oops. Jack winced apologetically. "Sorry."

Sky shrugged, and Syd exclaimed, "You can't mix lime and pineapple! That's so wrong!"

Z was laughing at her. "What do you know; you can't even make a sunrise!"

"I didn't say that!" Syd jumped up, pointing at Z. "I'll make you a tequila sunrise if you'll drink it, missy!"

"Hey, hey," Jack interrupted, waving them down. "Not a competition, guys. One drink an hour, remember?"

"They haven't actually had anything to drink yet," Bridge remarked. "Except the various juices we've been combining. They're completely alcohol free."

"They're like this naturally," Sky muttered. "What a pleasant thought."

"Hey, Jack, did you raise Sky's limit?" Z demanded. "I don't think three's going to be enough."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Drink your fruit juice," he told her.

"I bet we could make our own smoothies," Bridge mused, considering the table. "I wonder if we have a blender. Or if the synthesizer does puree. If it doesn't, I might be able to fix it so it does."

"Keep the lime far away from the pineapple," Syd said.

Z leaned forward, taking the tequila and setting it down next to the orange juice. "Put something in that that makes a sunrise," she told Syd, "and I'll drink it."

Syd beamed. "You're on!" she declared, dancing around the table toward the synthesizer yet again. "If this thing can make cheesecake, I can make you a tequila sunrise."

Jack raised his eyebrows, and he caught Sky's eye almost by accident. Shaking his head, Jack picked up his water and moved over to join him on the couch. Flopping down next to him, shoulder to shoulder, he asked, "You worried yet?"

"I was worried when you showed up with that bottle," Sky pointed out.

Jack considered that, watching Bridge line up their juices in order of color. Z went to put the whiskey bottle back behind the couch, then paused and held it up questioningly. Bridge shook his head.

"What happened?" Jack asked at last. He kept his voice low, casual, maybe drowned out by Syd's report that the synthesizer did puree when asked. This brought Bridge to his feet, bounding around his chair to join her, and Z rolled her eyes in Jack's direction but she got up to follow them anyway.

"I had too much to drink," Sky said, like it didn't matter. Except that he answered even more quietly than Jack had asked. "He probably did too; I don't know. I couldn't tell."

Jack really wanted to ask who Dru had been when Sky knew him, before he sold out. Older than Sky, or younger? Higher-ranked or lower? Nice guy, tough guy, the good soldier, the rebel?

The one who made the first move, or the one Sky had picked out of a crowd?

"I said I loved him," Sky said softly, almost inaudible beneath the animated argument taking place around the synthesizer. He shrugged, leaning forward to grab his water from the table. Settling back against the couch, he added, "The next day he was gone."

Jack blinked. It was so far from what he'd expected that the words almost didn't register. "Gone?" he repeated.

"Pilot," Sky said shortly. "It happens. Went up on patrol, never came back."

Oh. Disappeared, Sky meant. "Shot down?"

"No one knew." Sky hadn't touched his water since he picked it up. "Kind of wish it had stayed that way, now."

Jack shook his head, torn between sympathy and surprise and sure Sky wouldn't accept either one. "Better to know," he said.

"Yeah," Sky muttered, finally sipping his water and swallowing harder than those few drops could possibly require. "So much better."

"Sky, Bridge is making you a smoothie," Syd called. "Is it possible to die of vitamin B poisoning? Because if he puts in any more blueberries you'll have to eat it with a spoon."

"It's perfectly healthy," Bridge protested mildly. "Jack? You like strawberries better than cherries, right?"

Jack looked at Sky, but he was pointing at Bridge. "How does he know that?"

"A better question," Sky remarked, hiding behind his water again, "is who makes a cherry smoothie."

Z confirmed that they were loud enough to be overheard by replying, "Hey, Syd's going to make me a tequila sunrise out of orange juice and cheesecake strawberry sauce. Cherry smoothies? Not really that weird."

"Was that a diss?" Syd sounded indignant. "I think you just dissed my drink mixing."

"I think I agreed to try it," Z retorted. "And for someone who doesn't take drinks she didn't pour herself, that's more of a compliment than you know!"

"Oh." Syd took that in stride. "Okay then. Let's see if it even works in a juice glass, because I don't know how much you'll be able to see."

Jack glanced at Sky, but he seemed happy to watch Syd's attempt at professional drink mixing with improvised ingredients and tools. Or maybe he was just happy to stop talking. Probably both.

"Jack," Bridge said, wandering over with a glass in each hand. He held out the dark pink smoothie to Jack. "Strawberries and grape juice," he explained.

Sky got the deep purple drink, and Bridge said, "Blueberries and pear juice. The red pears," he added calmly. "Bartlett, I think. Not the green ones."

Sky paused, staring at the glass, and Jack blinked at Bridge. The Green Ranger was already turning away, though, heading for the synthesizer and the counter beside it, where he'd left a green-tinted mix and a lighter pink one. Jack looked at Sky and found him looking back.

Waving in Bridge's direction, Jack opened his mouth, then hesitated. "Should I go there?" he asked at last.

"No," Sky said, setting his smoothie down without tasting it.

He'd sort of agreed until Sky said "no" without thinking about it. For some reason, that made him call, "Hey, Bridge!"

Sky's eyes narrowed, and something about the expression made Jack grin. "What color were the grapes?" he asked. "You know, in my smoothie."

"Well, they're called purple grapes," Bridge replied over his shoulder. "But they're really a sort of deep blue color. They go well with the strawberries, don't you think?"

"You should know," Sky muttered, "that if you answer that question it's entirely possible I'll never speak to you again."

"Spoilsport," Jack told him. The color connections that Rangers seemed to take for granted was funny at the most random times. Raising his voice, he answered, "I'll let you know, Bridge."

Bridge had his hands full carrying the other glasses over to the table, but he nodded in Jack's direction with a sort of absent smile that fooled no one. Bridge was more attuned to colors than any of them. He attributed it to the auras he saw: said he couldn't think of a person without thinking of the colors that swirled around them, like it was part of their appearance or personality or something. And something about their morphers had apparently tinted all of their auras for him, so that Bridge associated them with their Ranger colors even more than they did.

Spontaneous clapping from Z announced the completion of her drink, and even if Syd wasn't pleased with the result Z protested that she could see the color change and that was all that mattered. She then dumped a shot glass full of tequila into Syd's smoothie, smiled innocently, and asked Bridge where hers was. Jack didn't miss Sky's look of alarm.

"Hey, Bridge," Jack said casually, rescuing him from his apology to Z--she already had a drink, after all, and if Syd was doing the color thing on purpose then she was being kind of territorial--and hopefully reassuring Sky at the same time. "There's no alcohol in these, is there?"

Bridge gave him an odd look, then took one look at Sky and shook his head. "No, just fruit juice and, you know, mashed up fruit. Except for Syd's."

"Cheers," Syd agreed, lifting her smoothie to toast the room.

Z immediately lifted her juice glass, and they clinked the rims together solemnly. Jack held up his smoothie, and across the table Bridge lifted his in return. Z moved her glass to tap Bridge's, and when Syd leaned toward Jack he sat forward on the couch and did the same. They all ended up toasting each other in the middle of the table, except for Sky, who just watched until Jack turned and solemnly clinked the water glass he was holding.

Sighing, Sky sat up and held out his glass over the table. This prompted another round of "cheers," and "thanks" to Bridge, and "hey, it's still getting darker" from Z. Her orange juice was completely pink now, and Jack figured the moment Syd looked around at all their glasses was the moment she realized what she'd done.

Not on purpose, then, he decided. But watching her try to make up for it was almost as funny as Z totally not getting it. The first thing Syd did was get a new juice glass, fill it with straight pineapple juice, and set it in front of Z. "So that you have something yellow," she said, as though this was perfectly normal.

A moment later she was at the synthesizer again, and this time she came back with a lime. An actual lime, which she placed carefully on the table next to the pineapple juice. "Just in case you want it," she explained, when Z gave her a baffled look.

Jack grinned when Z transferred the expression to the glass she was holding. "This is my first one, right?" she asked the room at large. "I thought drinking would make you make more sense, not less."

Bridge, on the other hand, lifted his smoothie in silent acknowledgment. Syd held up hers in reply, beaming when he smiled at her. Jack glanced at Sky just in time to catch the eye roll that indicated he'd followed the entire exchange.

"First crush," Jack said aloud, partly because the color-coded drinks were going to get old fast and partly because he wanted to know. "If we're going to get to know each other, I want to know who everyone's first crush was."

"Oh, do we all get to pick a question?" Syd asked, stirring her smoothie with the bendy straw Bridge had put in it.

At the same time, Z said, "Even if it means you have to tell us yours, Jack?"

He made a face at her, because of course Z knew who his first crush was and she was going to get to laugh at him all over again. Still. "If it keeps me from being successfully impersonated by alien criminals," he said, "I'm willing to tell you guys just about anything."

Then he nodded at Syd. "And yeah, everyone should get at least one question."

"Preferably something you could ask in front of an interrogation squad," Sky said.

"If what happened today happens again," Syd pointed out, "I think we're going to have bigger problems than being embarrassed."

"Yeah, but what if it doesn't happen?" Z asked. "What if we just suspect it's happened? Or if someone else suspects one of us, and we have to prove we're who we say we are? It should definitely be something we wouldn't mind other people finding out."

"In an emergency," Jack added. "Nothing we say tonight leaves this room unless someone's life is on the line."

"What happens in B Wing stays in B Wing," Syd agreed.

"So who was your first crush, Jack?" Z teased.

He glared at her good-naturedly. "Z," he said. "Z was my first crush, okay?"

She laughed, as expected, and she wasn't the only one. "Really?" Syd squeaked, giggling. "That's so perfect! How old were you?"

"Well, she was fourteen," Jack said. "So take however old you think I am now and subtract eight years."

"Who was your first crush, Z?" Bridge wanted to know.

"Not Jack," she said with a grin. "If that's what you're asking."

"Yeah, yeah." Jack shook his head, poking at his smoothie with his straw. "Z was so much more mature."

"Hey," Z declared, "Mr. Knight was a good guy. And he had a great name."

"Sixth grade science teacher," Jack told them. "She still talks about him."

"He was funny!" Z protested. "He had something to say about everything!"

"Sort of like you," Syd observed.

Z gave her a gentle nudge before leaning forward on her elbows and resting her drink on her knees. "What about you, princess? Did you have a real knight? With a horse and a sword and everything?"

"Well, it really depends on who you consider my first crush," Syd began. "I mean, the first boy I ever thought was handsome? Or the first one I kissed? The first one I danced with, or dated, or what?"

"Did all of them have horses?" Z asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"Um..." The fact that Syd actually thought about it made Z crack up, and Jack couldn't help grinning when Syd frowned at her in confusion. "Just two of them, I think. Why?"

"Pick whichever one you want," Jack interrupted. Then he thought better of it and he added, "Actually, tell us the one with the easiest name. If I have to remember this, I don't want to be trying to come up with Geordi Wilhelm Richard III when someone who might or might not be you is pointing a gun at me."

Beside him, Sky made a sound that might have been a snicker.

"Killian," Syd said, ignoring him. "He was the first boy who gave me jewelry. When I was six."

"Six?" Z exclaimed.

"Killian?" Jack repeated. "That's the easiest name you can come up with?"

"What about that guy," Bridge put in, "Dan, from D Squad?"

"Oh, he was just a friend," Syd said, waving it off. "He reminded me of one of the security guards from my singing days."

Z was staring at her. "You dated your security guards?"

Syd gave her a surprised look. "I didn't say that. Did I say that? I just said he reminded me of one of them."

"Did you date him?" Z asked.

"Who, Dan?" Syd considered that. "I guess."

"Okay, okay," Jack put in. "You guys can compare notes later. Sky?"

Sky didn't answer.

"Come on," Jack coaxed, bumping his shoulder. "You don't have to tell us the whole story. Just a name."

"Sky doesn't do crushes," Syd informed him. "He says they're a waste of energy. If you want to be with someone, you should just tell them, and if you don't, there's no reason to waste time thinking about it."

"Oh, dating advice from the Blue Ranger," Jack teased. "Wait, let me get something so I can write that down."

"Funny," Sky said, not moving. "I can give you some other things to write down while you're at it."

"Fine," Jack said. "Should we just consider Dru your first crush and move on?"

Sky's jaw tightened, but he didn't answer.

Jack set his smoothie down and picked up Sky's soda from the table. He poured some into his shot glass, filled it the rest of the way with tequila, and handed it over. "You didn't even do a full shot," he reminded Sky. "You can either talk, or drink."

Sky still didn't move. "Aiden," he said. "I went out with a boy named Aiden in seventh grade."

Jack knew when to declare victory and change the subject. "Okay," he said, putting the glass back on the table. "Bridge?"

"Well, you have good taste, Jack," Bridge answered. "I'm going to have to say Z."

"It's supposed to be your first crush, Bridge," Syd reminded him. "Not who you have a crush on now."

"I disagree," Bridge said calmly. "It's an open-ended question with a lot of room for interpretation. Is it really the first crush that matters, or the most important one?"

"Wow," Jack said, looking at Z. "And he hasn't even had anything to drink."

"That's not entirely true," Bridge pointed out. "I mean, I am drinking this smoothie right now, and just a few minutes ago--"

"Bridge," Z interrupted.

He stopped immediately, and she smiled at him. "I think that's the sweetest thing I've ever heard."

"Uh, the part about you being the most important crush, right?" he said. "Not the part about the smoothie? Because it is kind of sweet, but that's mostly the fruit. And the juice."

"Yeah," she said, laughing a little at his apologetic expression. "The crush part."

"Okay, my turn," Syd declared. "Who in this room do you most want to kiss, and you have to tell the truth!"

"Don't you mean, you have to actually do it?" Jack said with a grin. She was so obviously setting the two of them up that he couldn't resist helping.

"That's exactly what I meant," Syd agreed, nodding at him. "There's no one here you wouldn't kiss if they asked, right?"

Jack scoffed. "There's no one on this base I wouldn't kiss if they asked. Except maybe Commander Cruger."

"Thank you for that mental image," Sky muttered from beside him.

"What about you?" Jack asked, poking him. "You'll kiss anyone who says they want to kiss you, right?"

Sky gave him a look like he'd lost his mind. "No."

"Anyone in this room," Syd clarified. "Just us."

"Still no," Sky told her.

"Sky's excused," Z put in. "As long as he answers the question."

"Sky is not excused," Jack retorted. "The whole point is that no one here actually knows Sky, and I think someone should be able to kiss him and know if he's who he says he is."

"Why?" Sky demanded. "That's ridiculous. Why would you ever need to identify someone by kissing them?"

"A better question," Z said, apparently unaware that she was imitating him as she narrowed her eyes at Jack, "is who in this room does Jack most want to kiss?"

He grinned sheepishly as everyone turned to look at him. "Well, Sky, obviously. Otherwise why would I make such a big deal of it?"

"Z," Bridge said. He drew their attention, and he added, "I mean, that's who I want to kiss. I mean, if Syd's question counts, and even if it doesn't, it's still true, so."

"Bridge," Z agreed, grinning. "Shall we set a good example?"

Bridge nodded, but she was already getting up, so he stood up a little awkwardly and met her next to the table. Z lifted her face, smiling up at him, and Jack clapped when Bridge kissed her carefully on the mouth. "Very gentlemanly," he approved. "Well done."

"Yeah, meet me in the hall later," Z teased, giving Bridge a wink before shooting a sideways look at Jack. "We'll do it right."

Jack put his hands over his ears. "La la la," he said loudly, looking around the lounge like he didn't even know they were there. "I can't hear you!"

"Is it going to cause problems if I say 'Bridge' too?" Syd wanted to know.

Jack lowered his hands, wondering if he'd misheard her. "What?"

"Yeah," Z said, putting her hands on her hips as she pretended to glare at her roommate. "What?"

"What!" Syd exclaimed. "I have to pick someone, and he's the nicest!"

"That's true," Jack agreed, grinning.

"Well, I'm not sure I'm the nicest," Bridge began, "but I'm happy to kiss two beautiful women if the situation calls for it."

"See?" Syd said. "The nicest."

"That doesn't prove he's the nicest, Syd," Jack told her. "Just the smartest."

Z held up her hands in apparent surrender until Bridge said thoughtfully, "What if I kiss Syd, then I kiss Z again?"

Jack laughed. "See?" he imitated Syd. "The smartest!"

Bridge ended up just letting them both kiss him, one after the other, but he looked exceptionally pleased about it.

"Okay, Sky," Syd said, as she sat down again. Z flopped down right beside her, looking about as pleased as Bridge, so Jack figured they were all right. "Now you have to pick someone."

"I'm pretty sure I don't," Sky answered.

"We could all kiss him," Z suggested. "That way if we ever do have to identify each other by kissing, at least Sky will be safe."

Syd nodded seriously. "That's a great idea."

"That's a terrible idea," Sky said, scowl audible in his voice.

"Then pick someone," Jack told him, retrieving his smoothie from the table and sticking the straw in his mouth. "It's not that hard."

"Pick me," Syd chirped. "I'm the prettiest."

Z smacked her gently on the back of the head. "Pick Bridge," she told Sky. "He's the nicest."

"Actually," Bridge said, "I may be wrong, but I believe the question was who you most want to kiss. And everyone--" He held up one gloved hand and counted off four fingers. "Yeah, everyone's answered that except Sky."

Jack sucked on his smoothie, watching Sky glare at the table. He smiled around his straw when Sky's gaze flicked to him, just briefly. "One kiss," he promised, setting the glass down. "Then you're off the hook."

Sky just rolled his eyes, which Jack decided to take as agreement. He shifted, pulling one knee up underneath him and bracing a fist on either side of Sky's legs as their mouths met. Sky smelled like tequila and tasted like soda and his eyes were really, really blue, and Jack didn't process any of it until he'd already pulled away.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call that 'gentlemanly,'" Z commented, "but only because you crawled over top of him to do it."

"Yeah, I'd give you a five or six for technique," Syd said. "It looked okay, but usually you only invade someone's space like that if you're going to do some serious making out."

"Hey," Jack protested, sitting forward on the couch. "Am I getting penalized for being too involved, or not involved enough?"

They looked at each other, but Bridge beat them to it. "It seems like Sky would know better than we would," he offered.

Jack turned to him expectantly, not disappointed by the opportunity.

Sky just raised his eyebrows in return. "You already asked a question," he pointed out. "I think it's someone else's turn now."

Jack looked at him, searching his expression for some sign of real reaction. He figured refusing to comment fell into one of two categories: letting someone down easy, or teasing the hell out of them. He didn't think Sky was the type to let people down easy.

"I have a question," Z said. "What made you guys want to join SPD?"

"Stalkers," Syd said.

Jack's shoulder brushed against Sky's when he settled into the back of the couch again, smoothie in hand. Almost half gone, and yeah, Bridge was right: it was pretty good. Especially when Sky didn't move over.

"Stalkers made you want to join SPD?" Z was asking.

Syd shrugged it off like it was nothing. "Singing, modeling, rich parents... I was running out of careers where I didn't have to be surrounded by bodyguards all day. What about you?"

Sky snorted. "We know why she and Jack joined."

"Hey, no you don't," Z warned him. "So keep your attitude to yourself, okay?"

"Why did you choose to become a cadet?" Bridge asked, like they hadn't arrested her on the street themselves.

"I wanted to make a difference," Z said, looking at Jack. "What me and Jack were doing--it mattered, you know? But it never felt like enough. Like no matter how many people we helped, there were always more we couldn't. I wanted to do something that would help everyone."

"Whereas I," Jack said, lifting his almost-empty glass in a silent toast to her, "would have been perfectly happy changing the world one person at a time. Had already busted out of my cell and was on my way out when you guys called for backup."

"Nice of you to change your plans for us," Sky remarked.

"Not so much for you," Jack told him, his shoulder warm against Sky's. "The guy who arrested me after I helped save his team from krybots wasn't actually someone I wanted to help again. But Z was, so. I showed up."

"Jack Landors," Sky said, shaking his head. "The Red Ranger who showed up."

"I joined for the aliens," Bridge offered. "The alien citizens, I mean. And the visitors. The ones who don't do anything wrong but get harassed anyway. I want to make sure that the people we bring in are the ones who are actually guilty."

"Altruists," Syd said, pretending to sigh as she looked at Z. "You guys deserve each other."

"You?" Jack tapped Sky's foot with his own. "Your dad?"

This time, his hesitation was almost imperceptible. "He was SPD before SPD Earth officially existed," Sky answered. "All I wanted when I was little was to be like him."

"What about now?" Bridge said suddenly. "If you couldn't be SPD, what would you do?"

Sky paused. "Fly, I guess," he said after a moment. "Get offworld somehow. See what's out there."

Huh. Jack wasn't sure why he felt surprised by that answer.

"That's not a bad idea," Syd remarked. "No one would know me on, like, Triforia or something."

"You like it when people know you," Z reminded her.

"I know," Syd admitted with a sigh. "There must be some way to be fabulously rich and famous without being completely stifled."

"Yeah," Z said, patting her knee. "When you find it, let us know."

"What about you, Z?" Bridge wanted to know. "How would you help people if you weren't in SPD?"

"Oh, I don't know." Z shrugged it off, but after a moment she admitted, "Actually, you know what? I always kind of wanted to be a teacher. Except I didn't go to school long enough."

Jack felt Sky stir beside him. "SPD will pay for two classes a semester," he said, eyes fixed on his feet, which he'd propped up on the table again. "University level, I mean. If you can get in."

Z glared at him. "I'm poor," she snapped. "Not stupid."

Sky shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that," he told his feet.

"You should do that," Jack said, catching Z's eye. "That'd be great."

"Yeah, in my spare time," Z agreed, rolling her eyes.

"After we get rid of Grumm," Syd suggested, as though it was only a matter of time. "There are some classes I've been meaning to take, too. Maybe we could enroll in something together."

Z hesitated, and it was an open question whether she would laugh it off or take the suggestion seriously. Especially coming from Sky and Syd. Finally, though, she just smiled at her roommate. "I'd like that."

Jack had finished his smoothie, but leaning forward to set it down would mean giving up the proximity he'd managed to bully Sky into accepting. So he propped his empty glass on the couch beside him and nudged Sky with his elbow. "You got a question?" he wanted to know.

He'd tried to keep his voice low, but when no one was talking there was no missing it in the quiet room. Sky's only reply was that he hadn't even answered Bridge's question yet, and Jack shrugged. "Pretty much what I was doing before, I guess."

Sky's exasperated sigh should have made him smirk, but instead he found himself shifting defensively. "Maybe with less law breaking," he said. "I don't know. What does it matter? I'm here now."

"For how long?" Sky said pointedly. "You didn't even want to be a Ranger. What's keeping you here?"

"You guys," Jack reminded him. "You guys are keeping me here. I'm not going to let you down, okay?"

Sky shook his head impatiently. "I didn't mean it like that," he repeated. "I just meant--squads don't stay together forever. What would you do if you weren't--if you didn't have to answer for us anymore?"

Jack was very aware of the rest of the team watching, listening to his answers. "This isn't punishment for me," he said. "I want to be here with you guys. You're my friends. And B Squad is a great team."

"What if you got bumped up?" Sky insisted. "Say they don't find A Squad. No one wants to talk about it, but we're all thinking it: what if they don't come back? Someone has to move up."

This conversation had turned a lot more serious than he'd expected, and he couldn't help feeling like he was being interrogated, like he was on trial for his position. "Come on," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "Like you haven't wanted the Red morpher for months."

The silence that greeted this was definitely not what he was going for.

"Wow," Bridge said after a moment. "That was remarkably un-funny."

"Look," Jack said desperately. "I haven't moved up through the ranks like you have, all right? They're not gonna promote me. But if they did, you guys go with me or I don't go, understand? That's how it is, and that's how it's gonna be."

He had no idea how they'd gotten from 'getting to know each other' to 'squads don't last forever.' Through Sky, no less. Since when was Mr. Born To Be A Red Ranger worried about his future?

"Hmm," Syd said. There was a noticeable pause before she added, "That's a good point."

Jack just stared at her. "What is?"

"Well, why haven't they promoted anyone?" she asked, frowning a little. "I mean, yeah, the other Rangers are still searching for A Squad. Apparently. But SPD isn't. Why hasn't anyone tried to fill their positions?"

"Because they'll be back." Sky said it like it was a given, like he hadn't just suggested replacing them himself, and in that moment Jack knew: Sky hadn't accepted their disappearance at all. Because in his mind, they weren't really gone.

"And because the commander has been holding off Galaxy Command ever since A Squad was declared MIA," Bridge added.

Still stuck in his own thoughts of the contradiction that was Sky, the words didn't really register with Jack until he heard Z question them. "Someone's trying to get him to find replacements?" she asked.

Bridge nodded. "Yeah, but he won't do it. Kat says he's pretty attached to them. He might have told her that he won't believe they're gone until he pries the morphers from their cold dead hands himself... but you might not want to repeat that, because I think that was in confidence. And also, it's kind of morbid."

Syd was the one who broke the ensuing quiet. "Do you think he'd feel that way about us?" she asked, a little curious and maybe a little sad. "If something happened to us?"

"Nothing's going to happen to us," Z said.

At the same time, Sky said, "It's not about who he likes better. It's about training and experience. A Squad is the best, therefore the commander is least likely to accept their loss."

"Hey," Jack said slowly. "Do you think it pisses him off that the Ranger teams that come through here always report to us? I mean, if he knows them that well... I'm lucky when I can remember their last names."

"Well, you're the exception," Sky muttered, but the criticism lacked some of its usual heat. "Those of us who trained with them don't have that problem."

"Yeah, Sky's rivalry with Charlie is legendary," Syd put in. "She got promoted to A Squad just before you guys got here, and he's still mad that she beat him to it."

There was something about that that set off warning bells in Jack's mind, but he couldn't quite get his head around it. Not when Bridge was saying, "I think it does bother him, though. Commander Cruger, I mean. Even now that he's a Ranger, offworld teams won't report without all of us there."

That was when it came to him. "She got promoted to A Squad?" Jack blurted out. "Promoted from where?"

He could feel Sky shift, head turning to look at him, but Jack kept his eyes on Bridge as he said, "Well, B Squad. Obviously. Unless you mean literally where the promotion took place, which I think was Command."

Jack looked at Z, and he was vaguely reassured to see his surprise mirrored on her face. "I thought squads rose through the ranks together," she said.

He could tell Sky was frowning without having to see his face. "Why would you think that?" Sky wanted to know. "You filled an open slot on B Squad. Where do you think it came from?"

"Two open slots," Jack said, ignoring the attitude in favor of information. "Someone else move up recently?"

"Gibbs transferred out just before Charlie left," Syd offered. "They were a great team. Gibbs kind of... well. Smoothed things over between Charlie and Sky."

"Some people said if Gibbs ever left, either Sky or Charlie would have to move up," Bridge mused. "To keep them from killing each other."

"Or us," Syd muttered.

"Some people should have better things to do than gossip about other cadets," Sky said irritably.

"So," Syd declared, turning where she sat. "What about you, Bridge? Where would you be if you weren't with SPD?"

Bridge seemed to give this serious consideration, but it was just as possible that he was trying to decide whether or not to say anything else about the team before Jack and Z. If he was, he must have decided against it. And it wasn't like Jack didn't want to know, but Sky felt so tense that he thought letting it go might be the only way to win.

"Synesthesia study group," Bridge said at last. "Counseling kids with sensory disorders. The commander recruited me from Youth-to-Youth, and--not that this isn't important, but I really liked what I was doing there."

"Youth-to-Youth," Z repeated. "I've heard some of their ads. They do... what, kids helping kids? With mental problems, and stuff like that?"

"The idea is to provide role models for kids who aren't totally, uh, normal," Bridge explained. "It's a great program. And they liked me because they figured, whatever my problem was, I was really high functioning."

"And because you were a psychology major," Syd added. This last was mostly lost as Z bristled.

"Your 'problem'?" she demanded.

Bridge shrugged. "When I was younger, my parents thought I was making up all the stuff about colors and auras. Then one of my teachers decided I was synesthetic, and it kind of snowballed."

"You said that before," Jack put in. "Synesthesia. What's that?"

"It's just a different kind of wiring in your brain. Like, normally your eyes are hooked up to the visual part of your brain, right? So that when you look at something, you see what it looks like? But some people's eyes are hooked up to the visual and the auditory part of their brain, so when they look at something, they see what it looks like and what it sounds like."

"They know what it sounds like by looking at it?" Jack asked, frowning.

"They don't hear what it actually sounds like," Bridge told him. "Just what their brain thinks it sounds like when they see it. Like, maybe a cat sounds like a bell. So every time they see a cat, they hear a bell. Plus, you know, whatever sound the cat makes."

"That would be really noisy," Syd said, making a face. "If you heard something every time you opened your eyes?"

"Well, not everyone hears something," Bridge said. "Some people associate smells with the things they see. Or hear, or touch. Or things they see or hear can make them feel like they're touching something, something warm or cold or sharp or whatever."

"Still disturbing," Syd declared. "I don't even know how you handle your color thing. How could you ever coordinate a room if you can't see it without all that extra... stuff? Or your clothes!"

"Wait, how is this like you?" Jack interrupted. Sky shifted, sliding further down on the couch so he could rest his head against the back of it, and Jack forgot what he was going to say next. Sky was too tall to put his head on the couch without practically lying down. It was either funny or sexy, and his brain couldn't process it either way.

"Technically, I see extra stuff," Bridge was saying. "For a while everyone thought I was seeing sounds. Then when they decided it was purely visual, they thought I was seeing concepts, like emotions. Some people do that, with numbers or letters or something."

"But you're not," Z said, like it was obvious.

"Well, actually, I could be. An aura is just an electromagnetic field. Everyone and almost everything has one," Bridge told her. "Maybe I just perceive those fields as colors."

"Except your mom was in a lab accident twenty-four years ago," Sky said, "and everyone in there had kids with freakish powers. So, probably not."

Jack looked down at him, Sky's head on a level with his shoulder--and that didn't happen often--but his eyes were closed. Apparently powers were a safer topic of conversation than squads. If he'd had to guess about that, he would have gotten it wrong.

"It doesn't really matter," Bridge said with a shrug. "I got interested in the way people see stuff. And I get synesthetic kids, you know? I mean, they're cool. And a lot of them don't have anyone who really understands them, so. I liked working with them."

"They weren't all like that, though, right?" Syd was asking. "Didn't you say you worked with autistic kids?"

This close, Jack was pretty sure Sky would be able to tell Jack was talking to him even with his eyes closed. So he murmured, "Comfortable?" and he was rewarded by the slightest smile.

"Could use another pillow, actually," Sky said, without opening his eyes.

Jack grabbed the red pillow beside him while Bridge explained something about synesthesia, how people hadn't always known it was neurological, and how a lot of kids with severe sensory miswiring still ended up diagnosed with autism because the way they perceived the world was just too overwhelming. It was probably very interesting. It might even be something he would wish he knew someday, but it really couldn't compete with a relaxed Sky lying right next to him.

He turned sideways a little, telling him, "Lift your head for a second."

And, for possibly the first time ever, Sky took an order without question. He lifted his head up, and Jack put the pillow behind him on the back of the couch. "Okay," he said, holding on until Sky's head was resting on it, keeping it in place.

Sky hadn't so much as opened his eyes. Instead of acknowledging the gesture, though, he just asked, "Is this a red pillow?"

Jack had to grin, but he wasn't sure whether "yes" or "no" was the right answer. "No?" he guessed.

Sky snorted. "Uh-huh."

So "no" actually would have been the right answer, Jack thought, amused. Interesting. One could never tell with Sky.

"See, this is why I didn't tell anyone about my power," Syd said, getting his attention. "They always want to diagnose you with something."

"Lucky you," Z said with a sigh. "Mine isn't that subtle."

"Did you used to copy yourself involuntarily?" Bridge asked.

"Used to?" she said dryly. "Try, still do. At least Jack doesn't accidentally walk through walls."

He shrugged when they glanced his way. "It takes some concentration," he said, very aware of the fact that Bridge and Syd had immediately looked from him to Sky.

Sky might like to be aware of that too, so he elbowed him gently. "What about you? Ever do that shield thing by accident?"

"It's not a shield," Sky said, finally opening his eyes. "It's a forcefield. And no. Not by accident."

"Unless you consider compulsive practicing an accident," Syd commented.

"Oh, like you haven't been everything you can touch," Sky retorted, not moving.

Syd lifted one hand away from her glass and flipped suddenly transparent fingers at him in a clear "whatever" gesture. "Don't hate me because I got the pretty power," she told him.

Sky didn't deign to reply.

"Got a question, Sky?" Z asked after a moment.

He lifted his head to give her a weird look.

"Everyone else asked one," she pointed out. "Something you want to know?"

Sky let his head fall back again. "No," he told the ceiling.

Jack leaned into him a little, staring down at Sky's face until that blue gaze flicked toward him. "Do we have to have the drinking argument again?" Jack asked.

Sky's gaze didn't waver. "You don't want to hear my question," he said quietly.

If he'd just been winding them up, he might have looked away when he said it. But he didn't. And that made Jack frown, because he was kind of worried that Sky meant it. Maybe he really didn't want to hear it.

"I've learned a lot of things since I joined SPD that I didn't necessarily want to know," he said at last. "Doesn't mean it wasn't worth it."

Sky sat up abruptly, making Jack scramble to find his balance without someone to lean on. Reaching for his juice glass, Sky cupped his smoothie in both hands, bracing his elbows on his knees without drinking. Jack caught Bridge's eye, but he couldn't bring himself to smile. Bridge's expression didn't change either.

"You really couldn't tell?" Sky asked at last.

Jack froze, still breathing, too normal. Like he'd been hit and just couldn't feel it yet. Because he'd hoped--somehow he'd hoped that it hadn't hurt as much as he'd thought it had to, that maybe Sky just didn't see it that way, something. Because if it did...

How could they ever fix something like that?

"I get that you didn't recognize me," Sky said, still talking to his purple smoothie. "I mean, who would? It's not like I could talk to you or anything.

"But he could," he continued. "And he did. So he looked like me; so what? He talked to you. He talked to all of you. How could you think he was me?"

There was no way Jack was going to let silence linger after a question like that. He had no idea what he was going to say, but he was going to say something. While he was trying to figure out what, Syd beat him to it.

"Because we suck," she said. "We totally suck, Sky. And we're really sorry."

"Yeah," Z said quietly. She didn't seem to know where to go after that.

"I don't know," Bridge said. He seemed genuinely puzzled, but it was overshadowed by apology. "I really don't know, Sky."

"It's not going to happen again," Jack said. "It won't."

"Yeah," Sky scoffed, not looking up. "Because you'll just kiss me and the imposter will be revealed."

Jack blinked. Joking? He had to be. "It's a thought."

Sky shook his head, pulling the straw out of his glass and swallowing some of the fruit drink without it. Setting the glass back on the table, he said, "Just try not to lock me up again, okay?"

"Promise," Syd said quickly, holding out her own glass.

Sky glanced at her, then picked up his glass again clinked it against hers.

"Cross my heart," Z added, leaning in to press her glass against theirs.

"And hope to die," Bridge said, contributing his glass. "Only not really, because that wouldn't help anyone. I mean, if we died, who would switch you back?"

"RIC?" Jack suggested, holding his empty smoothie glass up to the others. "We have to get that dog a better doghouse."

"Already done," Sky told him. "I talked to Boom about it this afternoon."

"Here's to RIC," Syd said, tapping her glass against the collective again.

"To RIC," Bridge agreed.

"And to Sky," Z said.

Jack nodded, picking up Sky's soda and pouring some into his glass while he held it against the others. It wasn't really a toast if you didn't drink, after all. When Z caught his eye, he poured some into her empty glass too.

"No," Sky said, watching the glasses fill up. "To us."

Jack smiled, and this time he repeated the words with everyone else. His smile widened when Sky solemnly drank from his purple smoothie along with the rest of them. And when Sky sat back on the couch, beside Jack with his glass still in one hand, he didn't leave any space between them.

When Jack went to stash the rest of the tequila under his bed later that night, he hesitated over the bag he kept at the end of the bed. Not his standard issue gear bag, but a backpack he'd picked up with his first week's paycheck and filled with the stuff he'd want if he found himself out on the street again tomorrow. Plus a couple of things he'd accumulated since and wouldn't leave behind if he had the choice.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled out the coat and tossed it on his bed. Then he grabbed the wallet and put it on table. The emergency protein bars went under his bed with the tequila. He threw the empty water bottle at his gear bag, then stared at the gloves Z had given him two years back.

After a moment's consideration, he set them on the table beside his wallet. The necklace was also a gift from Z, and he decided to put it on again. Against the dress code, maybe, but Syd wore barrettes. What was the difference?

Finally he was left with the thin circle of metal at the bottom of the bag. He frowned down at it, wondering why he didn't just throw it away. It wasn't even his. But he took Dru's bracelet out of his bag, hid it under the gloves on the table, and stuffed the empty backpack in with his clothes.

Standing up again, he picked up his coat and hung it with his uniform jacket by the door. Then he surveyed the room with some satisfaction. It looked like he might be staying a while.