Chapter Thirty-eight

Rangers in Reverse

"Kira, stop pacing. They'll be fine," Trent said soothingly.

"Trent, you don't get it. If they figure out that Dr. O is the White Ranger, they'll figure out who we are, too. It doesn't take a genius. I can't believe they made us stay here!"

"I can believe they made Conner stay here," Ethan cracked.

"Why don't I order room service?" Conner suggested, ignoring Ethan. "They might still be open. Always makes me feel better."

"I don't want room service," Kira growled. "I also don't want chips, or cookies, or snack cakes, or pop, or candy, or Play-Doh, or pretzels, or pork rinds, or beef jerky, or juice boxes, or anything else you bought at Wal-Mart. I want—"

Whatever Kira wanted was drowned out by a knocking on the door. She raced to open it, relieved to see Tommy, Jason, Zack, Trini and Kimberly in the corridor.

"Oh, thank god," Kira moaned. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. They didn't suspect anything. Billy makes a freakishly convincing Black," Zack said, his hand in his now-empty back pocket. He wouldn't be getting the morpher back until the morning, and being without it was driving him crazy.

"What a night," Kimberly said. "You know what sounds good right about now?" she added suddenly. "A beer."

"I'm with Kim," Conner said quickly.

"Nice try, Conner," Tommy said, rolling his eyes.

"Seriously. I want a beer. A large one," Kimberly said, a look on her face as if struck by an epiphany and trying to work out the finer details. "Who's up for getting drunk?"

Conner, Ethan, and even Kira and Trent raised their hands.

"None of you are drinking. Ever," Tommy said firmly. The four gave a collective sigh.

"I don't get drunk with the guys anymore," Trini said. "Not since that little fiasco back in 2001."

"Fiasco?" Kimberly prompted.

"It was terrible. Zack, Jason, Tommy and I all got drunk. Or, rather, I found out I can drink them all under the table."

"What's so terrible about that?" Kimberly asked. She prided herself on her ability to hold her alcohol… well, at least, she was pretty good with beer and wine coolers. Liquor tended to mess her up pretty fast.

"Jason burst into song, Tommy burst into tears, and Zack burst out the front door in his underwear and a cowboy hat with his socks on his hands," Trini replied with a heavy sigh. "I, however, was sober enough that I had to take care of them. I was so busy trying to get Jason to stop dancing on the table and comforting Tommy that I completely missed Zack running off."

"I did not cry," Tommy insisted.

"I was not dancing on the table," Jason added.

"I found my way back eventually," Zack said.

"Zack, you passed out on a lawn six blocks away and didn't wake up until their sprinklers came on at ten in the morning," Trini said.

"That's not true! It was a housewife with a garden hose around nine that woke me up. Took me until ten to figure out where I was and how to get to Tommy's."

"Well, there'd be me around to chase Zack down," Kimberly insisted. "Come on. Let's go get Billy and get smashed."

Trini shook her head. "Not tonight. I've had enough weirdness for tonight. Why don't we get Kira, see what's on HBO, tell her a bunch of funny stories that Tommy will scream at us for divulging—"

"Hey!"

"—make each other over, take a few more magazine quizzes and party for the rest of the night?"

"Good enough," Kimberly said cheerfully. "I especially want to hear more about this little drinking party." She nodded at Kira. "Ready?"

"I'm so in," Kira said, disentangling her hand from Trent's. "Bye, guys!"

"I'm gonna head back home," Jason said. "I am kind of beat. Plus the dog's still annoyed that Trini won't come home." He gave Trini a meaningful look, meant to inspire guilt.

"The dog will get over it," Trini told him, giving him a quick kiss. Trini pulled off the blue T-shirt Billy had bought at Wal-Mart and handed it to Jason. "Love you bye," she added, then rushed off down the hall with Kimberly and Kira, Kimberly practically tossing her own Wal-Mart shirt at Jason as the girls made their exit.

"Hey! What time are we meeting up tomorrow?" Jason called after Trini, looking affronted.

"Eleven sounds good," she yelled over her shoulder, disappearing into Kimberly's room. Jason muttered something about life not being fair.

"See you in the morning," Tommy told Jason, and he and Zack headed back to their room.

Once back in the room, Tommy kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks, emptied his pockets onto the bedside table and was about to undress when someone rapped on the door; Zack answered it.

"I think we got one of your bags by mistake, Zack," Conner said, walking in without invitation and setting a Wal-Mart bag on Zack's bed. He was already in his pajamas and he yawned as he flopped down on a chair. "Dr. O, Trent and Ethan said they wanted to talk to you about something. Alone."

Tommy sighed as he headed back towards Trent and Ethan's room, wondering what they could want—probably had some complaint about Conner or something. A disgruntled Ethan answered the door when Tommy knocked. "What?" Ethan demanded.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Tommy replied patiently, ignoring Ethan's tone; they'd all had a rough day, and he did still feel bad about sending them into the Power Chamber without warning about the security measures.

"No," Ethan said.

"But Conner said… hmm. What did Conner tell you?"

"That he had something to take care of; I wasn't really paying attention. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to fall asleep before Conner comes back and starts snoring. He sounds like he's got a lawnmower in his nasal cavity."

Tommy frowned as Ethan shut the door. What was that all about?

He turned around and headed back to his room, only to find the door shut and therefore locked. His hand was halfway to his pocket before he remembered that he'd already removed all the crap from his pockets—including his room key.

"Zack? Let me in," he called, tapping on the door.

"He's back! I told Ethan to stall him! That traitor!"

Tommy's frown deepened. So Conner was still in his room… and they'd locked the door. Hmm.

"What are you guys doing in there?" He waited, but got no response. "Guys, I know you're in there."

"Hurry up," Zack hissed at Conner.

"You can't hurry with this stuff! It has to be savored! And there's twenty cans of it! We still have seven left!"

"Are you guys drinking in there or something?" Tommy demanded.

"Uh-oh."

"Of course we're not drinking, Tommy," Zack finally replied. "I wouldn't contribute to the delinquency of a minor like that."

"Right," Tommy replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Then what are you doing?"

"Nothing," Zack called, but he sounded a tad muffled, as if he was eating something. What would Conner and Zack be eating together that they didn't want Tommy to… wait.

"Are you guys eating Play-Doh?" Tommy demanded incredulously.

"Of course not! We're too old to eat Play-Doh," Zack said, sounding distinctly panicked. "No one eats Play-Doh past the age of, like, twelve."

Tommy shook his head. Of course. Both of them were very dead set on maintaining their image, and it didn't help that Zack's consumption of Jason's Play-Doh had been something of a childhood trauma for Jason for reasons unknown; Jason had once told Tommy that he hadn't spoken to Zack for weeks afterwards.

"Guys, I don't care if you're eating Play-Doh. Open the door. I don't have my key."

"…You don't?"

Damn, Tommy groaned to himself. That had definitely been the wrong thing to say. "Guys, let me in."

"No. You'll tell Jason," Zack replied, sounding much calmer now.

"I'm not going to tell… what is wrong with you? You're twenty-five. You can eat Play-Doh if you want to eat Play-Doh. Open the damn door."

Conner gasped. "Did you just swear?"

"Yeah, so?"

"You're not supposed to swear! You're Dr. O!"

"Conner, if you don't open this door, me swearing is going to be the least upsetting thing that happens to you today."

"It's not upsetting," Conner replied. "Wait until I tell the guys! Ethan'll never believe me."

"CONNER! Open the door!"

"Don't, Conner," Zack said. "Tommy won't kill us. I promise. Besides, I haven't gotten to eat this stuff in years and we only got two cases."

"Yeah, but at least it's something."

"All we could risk without Jason finding out," Zack agreed. "I swear, you accidentally eat his ten-pack of Play-Doh once and he never lets you forget it."

"If you don't open this door, I'm calling Jason," Tommy called desperately.

There was a pause as they considered this. Then Zack said, "Yeah? Is this your phone, in here on the dresser with your room key?"

"There's a pay phone in the lobby!" Tommy threatened.

"It's broken. Which is totally not my fault," Conner replied. "Hey, Zack, pass me the other can of white. This yellow's saltier than I remembered."

"You got it, bro. What should we do with the green?"

"Ugh! Toss it! No, wait, Jason might see it… we'll chuck it off the balcony later."

"Good idea. Man, I can't believe they have black now! I don't think they had black when I was a kid. Or purple."

"Why do you think they have two shades of pink? Isn't one enough?"

"I don't know, but the darker one's pretty tasty."

Tommy let his head thunk against the door. He'd been locked out of his room by two guys who decided to relive their childhoods by eating Play-Doh with the same relish heroin addicts had when getting high. Great. Now what?

"Guys, there's no reason I can't be in there while you're eating Play-Doh."

"What Play-Doh? I don't know nothing about no Play-Doh."

"Zack…"

"Did you hear something, Conner?"

"Nope. Not a thing."

Tommy glared at the still-locked door and turned on his heel, heading for Kimberly's room. With any luck, they wouldn't have thought to lock the balcony door. Trying to calm down so he wouldn't look like a stampeding bull, he rapped his knuckles against the door.

"Who is it?" Kimberly called.

"Room service," Tommy replied dryly.

She pulled open the door. "Oh, it's you. Hey, you're wearing a shirt today. That's a change."

"Heh." Tommy forced himself not to blush through sheer willpower, and resolved to never be without a shirt again, especially around Kimberly. The jokes were getting out of control, and they'd found some real equilibrium today; he didn't want it shattered by letting this joke or that remark go too far.

"Room service, eh? What are you… servicing?" Kimberly asked, unable to resist furthering his humiliation. He was so cute when mortified.

"UGH!" Kira yelped. Trini burst out laughing as Tommy's face went bright red in spite of himself.

"Um… balcony," Tommy muttered.

"You're servicing the balcony? That's disappointing. Sure you don't mean on the balcony?" Kimberly struggled not to laugh.

"Kim, please, please stop!" Kira wailed.

"Sorry, Kira," Kimberly said, still grinning her head off at the pathetic vision of Tommy.

"Oh, you'll apologize to her, eh?" Tommy mock-growled, silently thanking Kira for what would probably be the end of Kimberly's playful little comments.

"Of course I will." Kimberly paused. "She's not enjoying it."

"Can I use your balcony or not?" Tommy demanded with a sigh. "Conner and Zack have locked themselves into my room and I think Play-Doh's involved."

"Sounds kinky," Kimberly couldn't resist saying.

Kira covered her ears and began to hum as best she could while gagging.

"You never know with those two," Trini joked.

"Dr. O's not bad enough. Now Conner has to be involved," Kira grumbled sourly.

"Please just let me on the balcony," Tommy whined. "I wanna go to bed."

"Do you, now?" Kimberly said with a wicked grin.

"And kill Zack and Conner," Tommy continued stubbornly. He was not going to get sucked into sexual banter with Kimberly in front of Trini and Kira. Or ever. Ev-er. "Come on. Just let me use your balcony for like three seconds."

Kimberly raised her eyebrows. "That's how long it takes, eh? I could have sworn it took longer."

Oh, god. He was so doomed. "Just let me use the balcony! Please!"

"What for?" Kimberly replied, unable to let up.

"So I can jump across to my room!"

"What would you give me?" she asked in a horribly suggestive tone.

Tommy just stared at her for a moment, then finally sighed and gave in. "What do you want?" he retorted, trying to play her game but knowing he was too annoyed and embarrassed to do it properly.

Kimberly thought about it for a moment. "Your shirt."

Tommy glared at her. "I thought you said it was an improvement."

"No, I said it was a change. Not necessarily a good change."

"I'm not giving you my shirt!" What was with her lately? Why wasn't she ever as awkward as he was? She'd always been rather spunky, but this was getting ridiculous.

"Well, you gotta give me something."

Tommy barely fought down the urge to say "I'm about to give you a black eye." She'd know he was bluffing, anyway. "Do you have to do this in front of Kira?" he asked wretchedly, playing his trump card.

"Don't worry. She'll repress."

"Here's hoping," Kira threw in, eyes still firmly shut and hands still clamped over her ears, but it wasn't helping much, and the implications were still there, despite her best attempts to black them out.

Trini took pity on the girl and held out a bar of chocolate. "Chocolate? It makes everything better." Kira nodded but made no move to grab the bar, simply adjusting her hands in the hopes of blocking more sound. Understanding, Trini peeled back the wrapper and held it out for Kira to bite.

"Thanks," Kira lisped through the chocolate, relaxing slightly.

Tommy sighed. "All right. Seriously. What's it gonna take to get you to let me on the balcony?"

"Your shirt," Kimberly repeated.

"I like this shirt."

"I might give it back one day."

"Ha, ha. You can't have the shirt."

"Well, it's either that or the pants."

"Kim!"

"What?"

"…How about the socks?"

"Nope. They're used. Probably smell funny."

"Do not!"

"Shirt or pants. Your choice."

How did it come to this? Tommy wondered, grimacing. Maybe he should claim he was giving her the pants, and then strangle her with the belt once he got it off. He paused, mulling this over. "How about the belt?"

"Nope. Shirt or pants."

"Aw, go easy on the poor guy, Kim," Trini joked. It was obvious she didn't mean a word of it.

"How? You want me to ask for only half the shirt?"

"Good point."

Kimberly turned back to Tommy. "So what's it gonna be, Dr. Room Service?"

"Is this really necessary?"

"Shouldn't have brought up the balcony. I think I still owe you for that."

"Trini got me back for that."

"Trini did, not me. I have to humiliate you too."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Fine. Fine! Here. Take it!" Without bothering to unbutton it, he yanked his dark green shirt off over his head and held it out to her. She'd give it back eventually, he was sure of it.

Kimberly grinned and took it. "Okay. Now let go."

"I'll let go when I'm on the balcony," Tommy shot back, glaring at her.

"Fine," she said cheerfully, and edged around to the side, keeping a close watch on him. "But I'm warning you, I've got my nails dug in. Try to yank it back and it's gonna rip, and then you'll never get it back."

Damn, Tommy thought, having been planning to do just such a thing. Thoroughly ignoring the disgusted Kira and amused Trini, he glared at Kimberly as they carefully side-stepped their way out onto the balcony.

"Give it up, Tommy. You're beat," Kimberly told him, nodding at his hands, which were still possessively clutching his shirt.

"I'm going to get you back for this. Just so we're clear."

"I'm shaking in your shirt," Kimberly deadpanned.

Tommy released his shirt and gave her a playful glare. "I mean it. When you least expect it, I'm going to do something really cool and tricky and totally blow you out of the water."

Kimberly laughed. "Meanwhile, thanks for the shirt."

Tommy couldn't help it; he laughed with her, suddenly feeling much less annoyed. It felt so nice to be doing something normal with Kimberly—well, "normal" was a relative term, especially around him. Things had been strange between them today, and yet they'd been good.

Kimberly's face suddenly grew serious; Tommy checked the distance to the next balcony out of the corner of his eye, just in case he needed to make a hasty exit. "Thanks," she said quietly.

"For what?" Tommy asked. "The shirt? I'm telling you, I'm going to get it back one day."

Kimberly giggled and grinned at him. "For… you know… saving my life," she amended jokingly.

"No problem," Tommy replied. "Someone had to save that guy from getting his butt kicked by you."

She beamed at him. "And the hair story. Everyone should get to hear a story that good."

"Yeah, well, if you write a book or anything, I'm gonna have to sue," Tommy replied dryly, but he was smiling.

Her grin slowly faded and she looked at him intently. "And… and thanks for that… at the Command Center. That… that meant a lot to me."

Tommy nodded, shifting uncomfortably. "Me, too." He swallowed and finally released the shirt. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

She nodded, understanding that he wanted to bail. "Yeah."

Tommy left, making his way across the balconies. Just as he landed on his own and reach for the handle, Kimberly called, "Hey, Tommy!"

He couldn't read her expression, given how far away she was now, and there wasn't much to be gleaned from her tone given that she'd only said two words, but his instincts immediately alerted him to the fact that she was about to knock him out.

"Yeah?" he shouted back, hoping they didn't wake the neighboring hotel residents.

Sure enough, Kimberly dropped the biggest bombshell she'd thrown at him all week.

"You know, for future reference, when you lock yourself out of your room, the lobby usually gives out spare keys!" Kimberly yelled, the urge to cackle now evident in her tone.

Tommy stared at her blankly. Then—

"THAT'S IT!"

Tommy jumped back onto the next balcony in the long line that led towards Kimberly; before he could make it to the second one, she shrieked and dove back into her room. Trini stuck her head out of the door in Kimberly's place. "Write it down!" Trini shouted. "You don't want to forget!"

Laughing uproariously, Trini shut the door; Tommy forced himself to turn around and head back to his own balcony, not wanting to get caught; the yelling might have tipped someone off. He gave the handle a good sharp yank… and discovered it was locked.

Tommy stared at it in disbelief, amazed that Zack would think to lock both doors… and then he realized that the curtain was swaying slightly. Zack and Conner had probably heard him shouting to Kimberly and locked the door just in time.

Tommy suddenly burst out laughing. Here he was, stranded, shirtless, no wallet, no keys, no phone, no shoes, and nowhere to go until the two crack heads finished eating their Play-Doh. If he wanted back in the hotel, he'd have to go back… through Kimberly's room.

"I hate my life," Tommy choked out, laughing hysterically as he sank down onto the balcony to plot his next move.

"First thing in the morning," Don said to Abe as they headed through the hotel lobby. "As soon as our shift's over. Walter has no idea the Black Ranger showed up. So we can stall for time until we get to Reefside and start checking out this Carrie woman's story."

Abe frowned. He was tired; he'd been working since four p.m., and he was twice Don's age. "How far away is Reefside?"

"Three hours or so, I think."

Abe frowned. That meant a six-hour round trip and he wasn't exactly young anymore. "I'll call in a few favors. Should only be half that if we go in a squad car with the sirens on."

"Good plan," Don said, then froze, staring in shock at the TV. A cluster of late-night hospital staff, anxiously waiting patients and visitors were gazing at it in shock and wonder. The words "Black Ranger Revealed" were written along the bottom of the screen.

"Once again, details are still sketchy, but we are ready to reveal that the Black Ranger is none other than Dr. Thomas Oliver, whose identity was uncovered when he rescued his girlfriend from a purse snatcher—"

"Damn!" Don growled. "That Carrie woman! Wait. Black Ranger? What the hell? She heard us say—"

"Not her. The hotel staff," Abe muttered. "The paramedics. If it was her, she wouldn't be saying he was the Black Ranger. She knows we suspect he's the Green. She works for the Sentinel, anyway, not television."

"But who else knows? There was no one else in the hallway…"

"The paramedics. They saw the Black Ranger, heard it was him who stopped Walter, told their buddies here at the hospital… but when the Walter kid woke up he probably started ranting about Tommy Oliver to a room full of nurses, doctors, medical assistants, God only knows who else. It wasn't the Carrie woman; she'd be reporting him as the Green Ranger."

Don nodded. That made sense… they should have foreseen… oh, crap.

"The mayor's going to pitch a fit, isn't he?" Don asked wretchedly.

Abe's eyes widened in horror. "Let's go. Damage control. Now."

End Notes: The title refers to Zack and Conner reliving their childhood, Kimberly flirting with Tommy, and the damage being done to their identities.

No hints this time, but I wanted to make a few things clear—flashbacks of the "Cinnamon Buns thing," the "pink bows thing," the "goat man thing," Ashley's almost-wedding, that little drinking thing Trini mentioned… just about every goofy moment we mention but don't explain fully will show up as a flashback later. And if by some miracle we can't fit one of them in somewhere, it'll end up in the sequel. With the possible exception of Zack antagonizing a pack of vultures; funny as the thought was, there aren't many ways to expound the point. Anyway, point is, most of the weird little allusions we make to past non-cannon freak accidents are our way of saying "We have a flashback of this stored up for a rainy day, and when its time comes, beware!" Since I didn't get a chance to look up hints, I'll tell you that the next chapter will be called "Forever Red."