Chapter Forty-two

Water You Thinking?

Tommy reentered Zack's hotel room, much more disturbed than before; despite his miniature war with Trini, he'd been seriously banking on her help. A sweet voice rang from the bathroom, singing a dimly-recognizable Ace of Base song. Singing? Why is she SINGING? Why do people sing in the shower? Do they think no one can hear them? Figuring he might be able to deal with things a little better if he was fully dressed, he crossed quickly to the dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans just as Kimberly belted out some choice lyrics that included the phrase "wet and wild." Tommy practically jumped into his jeans. He pulled off his shirt, turned it right-side-out and pulled it back on. The words "DANCE MANIA!" in bold white letters were a definite clue about the actual owner of the shirt. Opening the drawer that contained his socks, he began searching carefully for the perfect shade of red or green. Only able to spend so long staring at his socks without going cross-eyed, he finally decided on a green pair. As Kimberly moved on to singing "Waiting for Magic," Tommy began to pick up the random pieces of clothing littering the floor.

See? See? I can deal with this, he thought proudly as he dropped the clothes in a pile between the beds so he could sort them properly later and went back for more of the junk scattered across the floor.

Around that time, Zack let out a groan and sat up, slowly, pressing his face into his hands. "Man… what time is it?"

"About ten," was Tommy's reply, as he continued to move everything on the floor into one large pile. Thankfully, Kimberly's singing had trailed off.

"A.M. or P.M.?"

"…A.M."

"It's too early!" Zack wailed, flopping back down and pulling the covers back over his head. "How do you manage to get up so early to teach all the time?"

"Not without a huge amount of effort and about five gallons of coffee." Tommy shoved most of Zack's CD collection under the ever-growing pile.

"Must be great running through the day jazzed on java."

"Wished it worked better. I still have to set my alarm for three hours before I have to be at school."

"That sounds about right." Zack giggled. "I can just see it…" His giggle expanded into full-blown laughter.

Tommy glared at him. He was exhausted, Kimberly was in his shower—alone, Trini had refused to help him, Ethan had been curled up in a ball and muttering incoherently when Tommy had stopped by the teens' room to see if they were okay, Conner had still been (unfortunately) breathing, Trent was babbling about making out with Kira (which Tommy, being a responsible adult, didn't want to hear so that he could maintain plausible deniability if and when Anton interrogated him), Kira was missing, Kimberly was in his shower—alone, the room was a wreck, he was wearing a shirt that said "DANCE MANIA!" and he wasn't sure why, Kimberly had stolen his favorite green button-down, he couldn't fix his hair while Kimberly was in the bathroom—alone, and Zack was amused. At Tommy.

Tommy dropped the load he was carrying, stalked over to Zack's bed, took hold of the mattress, and shoved it upward at roughly a forty-five degree angle, effectively tossing a now-screaming Zack to the floor. "I should have mentioned—I haven't had my coffee yet," he growled, then returned to his "cleaning."

As he attempted to disentangle his legs from the sheets, Zack paused, confused. "Is that the shower I'm hearing?"

"Yeah."

Zack thought about this for a moment. "Laundry day already?"

Tommy stared at Zack in amazement. "Do you actually have clean clothes in L.A.?"

"There is a laundromat near where I live, but I was banned. So I either use the shower or go to Kim's or Adam's to use their washers. Usually Adam's. His maid his hot." He paused, then grinned. "Not everyone has a Hayley, you know."

As Tommy threw a glare at Zack, a sudden loud thud from the bathroom followed by a shout and a colorful curse made both men jump badly. "Dude … that sounded just like Kim."

"That's because—" Tommy grit his teeth as Kimberly decided to sing again, this time her song of choice was "Ice, Ice Baby." "—Kimberly's in there," he finished, glaring at the ice bucket beside the mini-fridge.

"Kimberly? But why would she… ooooohhhhhhhhhhhh!" Understanding and pure evil lit Zack's face as he pulled himself over the edge of the bed. "Did someone sneak her whilst I was sleeping for a little hanky-pa—"

"No! She just needed to use the shower because Kira locked herself in Kimberly's bathroom!"

"She could have gone a day without a shower—"

"Just because you do—"

"I think you're just making up excu—"

"I am not! You can even ask Kim herself when she gets out!" Oh, god, he thought in horror, please don't let Zack ask her himself when she gets out!

"Well, if you did do anything, would she admit it like you are?"

"Damn it, Zack, we didn't do anything!"

"Methinks thou doth protest—"

"No, Zack, there is not 'methinks.' There is no 'you thinks.' Because you never think. Now shut up before I strangle you with the telephone cord!"

"All right, fine! Jeez! Don't get your panties in a twist!"

"Panties in a twist?" Tommy gaped at Zack. "Are you really an adult?"

Zack ignored him, yanking his legs free of the sheets and standing. "So… what? You just let her come in and use the shower?"

"Yeah, what was I supposed to do? Deny her its use and direct her to the courtyard fountain?" Tommy glared at him, violently tossing an empty Play-Doh can towards the trashcan.

Zack shook his head. "You really expect me to believe that Kim just knocked on the door and fed you a pickup line as cheesy as 'can I use your shower?'"

"It wasn't a pickup line."

"Oh, sure. That's what she wants you to think."

"If Kimberly had been trying to pick me up, I wouldn't be standing here talking to you."

Zack stared dumbly at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. Tommy groaned and looked around for a sharp object. When he failed to locate one, he reached for a full can of Play-Doh, but his fingers closed over the area-wide directory instead. Zack was laughing too hard to see the monstrous phone book flying at him but he did see the short burst of stars as the book crashed into his skull, making him stagger.

"What the hell was that for?" Zack collided with the bed and flopped onto it, finding this easier than regaining his balance. Sitting up, he checked his head for blood.

"I knew what was going on in that gender-obsessed mind of yours! Cut it out!"

"You didn't know!"

"Did too! I could see that sick glazed expression!"

"Could not!"

"Could too!"

"Could not!"

"Could too!"

"Could not!"

"Could too!"

"Could not!"

"Could too! Get your mind out of the gutter for once, Dance Team Boy!"

"Then get yours out of Kim for once, Mister Über-Responsible Teacher Man!"

"That's Doctor Über-Responsible Teacher Man to you!"

A sudden knock at the door startled them out of their argument. Giving Zack a look that could have obliterated an entire mountain chain of solid granite, Tommy marched to the door and opened it. "Trini! What—?"
"Morning, Tommy!" Trini interrupted, in much better spirits since he'd awoken her, not to mention freshly showered, laundered and dressed. She smiled brightly and waved over Tommy's shoulder. "Morning, Zack!"

"Morning, Trini!"

Tommy moved in front of Trini, blocking Zack from view. "Feeling better?" he asked dryly.

"Yeah, sorry about this morning. I was just really disappointed to be awake." Trini paused, a distant, happy look in her eyes and a wicked grin spreading slowly over her face.

"I know the feeling," Tommy said with a sigh, his expression the exact opposite of Trini's.

Trini blinked, coming back to reality. "Anyways, I was looking for my roommates. They were both gone when I woke up. Have you seen—?"

"They're not here okay?" Tommy exploded. "Why would either of them be here? They wouldn't! Don't ask me where they are! Me and Zack are alone! Completely alone! Can't you tell we're alone? No one here! No one!"

Trini merely folded her arms and lifted her eyebrows at him as Zack burst into loud, hysterical laughter. "Really? You mean Kira wouldn't have a reason to talk to her teacher, mentor and chaperone?"

Glaring, Tommy replied firmly, "No."

"Yeah, Kira's not here!" Zack admitted evilly. "But Kim is!"

"What? Why? Where?" Trini shoved past Tommy, knocking him into the doorframe. "Kim? Ki-im!" She began searching under Tommy's bed, looking almost disappointed when she didn't find so much as a pink bead. Undaunted, however, she simply moved to look under Zack's bed.

"Well, look at that," Zack remarked. "Trini's had a shower. You can see where her hair is damp. Guess Kira wasn't locked in Kim's bathroom after all."

"She's not there, Trini!" Tommy yelled angrily, wishing he had another phone book. He wondered if he should stuff them both in the closet and make a break for it. Mexico wasn't that far away. Neither was the Pacific Ocean. Leave the top down on the Jeep and just keep going… "She never was! And she never will be! Besides, even if we were having sex like rabbits all night she'd have been long gone before Zack ever woke up!" Snapping his mouth shut, Tommy felt the deep desire to ram his head against something.

Trini was silent as Zack, completely undaunted by this rant, spoke. "Kim's in the shower. Personally, I think they did have sex like rabbits all night long while I was slumbering away peacefully with perfectly innocent dreams, but Tommy won't admit it." He paused. "HEY! So that's why you came back to the room last night without clothes!"

"That was completely unrelated to Kim," Tommy half-whispered pathetically.

Trini regarded him suspiciously. "No it wasn't."

"Close enough," Tommy insisted.

Trini tilted her head to the side and stared at him thoughtfully. Tommy hated it when she did that. He always got the impression that she was looking right through him, deep down into his soul, where his darkest secrets were surrounded by a barrier of magic guardian… something-or-others that constantly shouted "LA, LA, LA CAN'T HEAR YOU!" so the secrets couldn't be overheard by the prying, unholy, vile, scheming, far-too-intelligent Yello—

"She's in the shower, okay? She's washing, there's singing, and nudity, and soap, and lathering, and shampoo! And TOWELS! She's in the shower for some reason involving Conner and Kira! That's it!" And with that, Tommy stormed out of the room.

Trini snapped her fingers. "So that must be why the bathroom was like a rainforest."

"You don't think Conner and…"

"No. No, I don't. From what I know about Kira, she would have disemboweled Conner. She is a Yellow, after all." Trini sighed. "Well, I guess nothing did happen."

"How can you say that?" Zack demanded. "He's obviously embarrassed and in denial because he and Kim—"

"Honey, if he and Kim did anything, Tommy would be bouncy. You'd have to drop a piano on his head to mildly annoy him if he and Kim had done anything."

Zack sighed, looking dispirited. "But… but… it's just not fair, Trini. It can't be over. It just can't. It means so much to all of us. What about all those times by the lake, and in the park—"

"Zack…"

"and on the beach—"

"Zack."

"and in the Youth Center—"

"Zack!"

"and in Billy's garage—"

"ZACK!"

"and that time when Mrs. Appleby gave them detention for something to do with her desk—"

"ZACK!"

"What about the magic, Trini? What about the romance? What about the fire? You can't let it end like this!"

Trini walked to him, taking him by the shoulders and shaking him violently. When she finally let him return to a resting position, he appeared much more focused. "Zack, listen to me very carefully. You are making this sound like a bad breakup. If Jason walked in right now, he would beat you, strangle you, rip your body to shreds, build a fire with your bones, cook and consume your flesh, and display your eyes as a trophy. Do you understand me?"

"It is a bad breakup! They broke up, and it was bad! I want them to be having sex in the shower! Is that so wrong? Is it?"

Trini gave him another shake. When he opened his mouth to continue the rant, she smacked his cheek, not hard but hard enough to prove she meant business, and followed it up with a slap to the other cheek, just to make sure. "You good now?"

Zack gave a feeble nod.

"Good. Now, nothing happened between Kim and Tommy. Nothing will." Just as Zack was about to respond again, Trini added, "Yet."

As Zack brightened considerably, the bathroom door opened and Kimberly stepped out, her various beauty products back in the travel bag, pajamas under one arm and towel wrapped around her hair, already in full makeup. She regarded them with suspicious confusion as they leapt apart guiltily. "Hi, guys," she said slowly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," they both said in the firm, panicky tone of co-conspirators.

"I see." Her eyes widened, a horrified thought occurring to her. "What did you guys do to Tommy?"

"Nothing. He went to go get breakfast," Trini lied.

"Uh-huh. And you two are just sitting here, hanging out, having a blast, hugging?"

"We weren't hugging. She was shaking me."

"Oh, well, that makes so much more sense." Kimberly rolled her eyes, then paused. "In fact, with you, it actually does."

Zack was about to give her a wounded reply when he paused, looking her up and down. She was wearing pink shorts and a grossly oversized green button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up practically to the shoulders, the tails tied a few inches above her waist. He stared at the shirt, then frowned, then gasped in shock. "Is that Tommy's shirt? See, Trini, I told you so!" he continued without waiting for an answer.

"This is my shirt," Kimberly replied stubbornly, glad her freshly applied makeup would hide her blush.

Trini sighed. "That's a little cruel, you know. He's already having a bad day, too."

"Why's that?" Kimberly demanded quickly, all too aware that they'd probably scared Tommy off somehow.

"Oh, I beat him up with a pillow earlier," Trini said with a shrug.

Zack caught on amazingly fast. "And I made fun of his coffee addiction." He rubbed his side ruefully. "That jerk dumped me out of the bed. As if throwing Play-Doh missiles at me last night wasn't bad enough."

"Oh-kay, right then," Kimberly said, shaking her head. She no longer wanted to know. "And what exactly are you doing hanging around here in Tommy's room, Trini?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied, stalling for time.

"I needed to use the shower. Kira locked herself in our bathroom."

"Why?"

"Something about Conner freaking her out and having disease… I don't know. She said to tell you she'd used your body wash."

"Oh. I thought someone had knocked it over at some point and spilled half the bottle." Trini sighed. "Well, that explains the Kira/Conner bath problem. Thank god; that was really bothering me."

"What?"

"Long story. Never mind. Why don't we go meet up with Tommy for breakfast?"

"I'll be right down," Zack said. "I need to pee and get dressed."

"I have to do my hair," Kimberly said, trying to keep the note of panic out of her voice.

"You can do that after breakfast."

"I can't! I can't go to breakfast with wet messy un-brushed hair! And I wanted to redo my legs, and I forgot to bring my lotion…" She looked around wildly for a moment and then propped her leg up on the dresser. "Trini! Did I miss a spot?"

Trini sighed but obediently gave Kimberly's legs a once over. "You're fine. Come on."

"How about my toenails? Do I need to redo them?"

"Your toenails are fine."

"Girls are weird," Zack announced, and wandered into the bathroom. "UGH! Kim! This place smells like Bath & Body Works on crack!"

"Are you sure my toenails are fine?" Kimberly asked Trini, inspecting the length and polish carefully.

"Could you get your creepy toenails off my dresser?" Zack demanded through the coughing fit Kimberly's beauty products had induced.

"My toenails are not creepy! Trini I need a pedicure!"

"Just… wear sneakers."

"I can't! And what if one of them fell off and my sock got a hole I'd be so embarrassed and shoeless too!"

Trini sighed and grabbed Kimberly's arm, hauling her out the door. "Your toenails are not creepy," she said, shooting Zack a death glare. "Come on. Let's play with Trini's nifty hairdryer. Remember all those modifications I showed you?"

"Ooh, I love that one setting where it makes toast!"

"It makes toast?" Zack asked incredulously.

Trini shrugged. "I got bored."

"So she fused it with a toaster," Kimberly added. "Very Billy thing to do. No, actually, it's a very Zack thing to do if Zack was as smart as Billy…"

"A hairdryer that makes toast. That's, like, wave of the future right there. One day, new generations of Rangers are going to have appliances that hook up to their computers where they can download a toast-making program that comes right out of the hairdryer," Zack said dreamily. "I can see it now… 'The Toasty Computerized Hairdryer. Want some? It's buttery.'"

"Good thing you never went into advertising," Trini joked dryly.

He ignored that comment. "I want some toast!" Zack said eagerly.

"We didn't buy any bread," Kimberly pointed out. "Besides, there's a continental breakfast downstairs."

"Provided we don't miss it while you do your hair," Zack complained.

"Shut up, Zack, or I'll kick you with my 'creepy' toenails," Kimberly retorted. "I'll try to hurry."

Trini sighed. "See you in about an hour," she said to Zack as she followed Kimberly out.

"Yeah, I'd wake up and scrub my skin raw too if I had a nightmare like that," Trent said, taking another bite of pancake, privately wondering if he could get away with faking a nightmare like that just so that he could have a repeat performance of this morning. He and Kira had descended upon the hotel's restaurant, Trent having left the room shortly after Kira, muttering something to a nonplussed Ethan about food. Now, both he and Kira were sitting at a table built for two—or, rather, five—almost elbow-to-elbow. He was hopefully indulging in many a chocolate-chip pancake, while Kira was indulging in many a chocolate-chip pancake stack, drowning it all in syrup. Kira didn't normally eat this much; she was already on her third stack and counting. But, then again, she also didn't normally have romantic dreams about Conner.

"I swear, the Speedos he was wearing looked like they were made out of a pizza box. And I actually said 'Trent keeps making all these advances' as if it annoyed me. What is that? And why would I sound annoyed by that? Hello! Completely off on that one." Fork jabbed through pancake and against plate with a violent clang. Trent smiled at her antics and her phrasing as she continued to rant. "Oh, god, we were hugging! And it wasn't the I'm-glad-you're-still-alive hug, or the I-haven't-seen-you-in-awhile hug, or the he's-doing-this-to-annoy-me hug, or the thank-god-we-just-kicked-the-monster's-butt-again hug, it was… it was… I don't want to think about it. I'm done thinking about it. Conner… ugh! I may never hug anyone ever again!"

Sympathizing with her, Trent merely listened, said the appropriate things (with a fifty-two percent success rate so far), and ordered more pancakes and drink refills for himself and the damsel in distress. Trent wondered if he could just stick this whole morning on Dr. O's hotel bill. He also wondered if Kira had been planning on that all along.

Kira shuddered and consumed more pancake. "I'm glad you're not mad."

Trent shrugged. Something like his girlfriend having a romantic dream involving Conner was just too ludicrous to be upset about. "What's to be mad at? It was a dream, not a fantasy." Kira shuddered violently as Trent continued. "Even though, according to some book that I read once, it means you subconsciously have feelings for—"

"Finish that sentence and you'll never get to first base with me ever again," Kira said darkly into her pancakes.

"Anyways, it's sort of like that dream where you find yourself sitting in your underwear in the middle of class."

"I never had that dream." Kira glared furiously at her pancakes and stabbed at them. "No, I get to have dreams about Conner and pizza-box Speedos." Trent nearly choked on his orange juice when he found himself laughing. He set the glass down and covered his mouth to hold in both laughter and juice, which caused Kira to turn her glare on him. "It's not funny."

"Yes it is," Trent said simply. This was all he could get out before a loud peal of laughter erupted, causing many patrons to shoot him curious looks.

"I could've sworn you finished laughing when I first told you about it," Kira said, annoyed that she was finding it harder and harder not to start laughing herself. "That dream was disturbing on so many levels."

"Was that why you attacked Conner this morning with the shampoo?" Trent asked, giggling all the while.

"It was a bottle of conditioner. And yes, that was part of the reason." Kira frowned as Trent's control dissolved yet again and she returned to her pancakes.

Presently, Trent pulled close and slid his arms around her. "I could try to give you better dreams."

"And your father would hunt me down," Kira finished, turning so she could see him.

"Hey, he's not nearly as scary now that he's human again."

Kira laughed. "But still." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Meanwhile, I'll just have to keep trying to rid myself of Conner."

Reawakening with his head throbbing, Conner pushed himself up off the floor and looked around. "Hey… where is everybody?"

A lump on the bed nearest the door shifted and Ethan's head appeared above the covers, glaring daggers at Conner. "You're wrong, Conner! Today won't be a good day! It never would, never will be! It's only just started, and it will never be a good day! Nothing good could ever come of this day! We're jinxed! Jinxed, jinxed, jinxed! That's our curse until judgment day!" Letting out something like a sob, Ethan pulled the covers back over his head and fell silent.

Conner stared at the lump of covers that hid Ethan, idly rubbing the sore spot on the back of his skull. "Okay, dude, whatever. Do you have any idea what hit me?"

"Kira," Ethan replied miserably.

Digesting this bit of information, Conner shrugged and resumed his interrupted trip to the bathroom, humming "When the Saints Go Marching In."

Tommy reentered the hotel through the revolving door, supervised by the exasperated desk receptionist (most disconcertingly, the same one from last night's spare key fiasco). After having stormed from the hotel room, he had spent a long stalking about and raving to himself around the outdoor perimeter of the hotel. When he grew tired of this, he went back in, only to stop as far as the inside of the revolving door and began demanding payment from others who tried to go through. It wasn't until the front desk receptionist had come over and threatened to call security that he stopped. So he headed for the hotel's restaurant, using the scenic route, wondering if he ever actually grew up.

At first, he had decided to be annoyed and angry and bitter about everything, like usual, but then he realized that ignoring everything would take less energy. Apathy was so much better than yet another migraine. Opening the glass door smudged with handprints and the required mystery substance, Tommy strode into the restaurant and sat himself down. Trent and Kira stared at him from across the table as he proceeded to rearrange his silverware and smile vacantly at them.

"Um..." Kira and Trent released each other. "Dr. O?"

"Kira. Trent." Tommy nodded at them. "Nice day out. Sunny. Few clouds. Not too warm."

"Eh… been out walking?" Trent asked faintly.

"Oh, I've been here and there," he replied. His face darkened. "Yep. Here and there and everywhere but the shower." Regaining his equilibrium, he added, "Are those chocolate chip pancakes?"

Kira nodded the affirmative, and, as Tommy waved randomly for a waitress, gave Trent a look that said "We have to get rid of him." Trent returned this with a look that simply asked, "How?"

"Uh… Dr. O… aren't you going to… maybe… do something with your friends?" Kira inquired, only to receive Tommy's blank smile in return. Kira swallowed, slightly nervous. Kira was not overly concerned with her image, as a general rule, but very few people wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen with Tommy at this point, especially if Tommy was their science teacher, given his attire and slothful appearance. Not only was his appearance off-putting, but his aura had a distinctly unsettling tinge to it today.

"Don't worry, Kira! I have all day to plot Zack's accidental fall to his death from the balcony!" Tommy replied cheerfully. "I'd rather have breakfast with my favorite students!"

Both Kira and Trent edged their cheers away from their teacher, finding this all more than a little creepy. The waitress appeared and she glanced at the teens. "These your kids?"

"Mine?" Tommy let out a very loud, slightly maniacal laugh. "Not only your life..." He leaned closer so that he could read the waitress's nametag. "…Carmen! The boy is the son of a dear friend of mine who thought my taking him and his friends on vacation was a good idea!" Tommy smiled brightly at the waitress, while Trent looked wounded and Kira resuming her pancake therapy.

"I've never been so stressed out in my life," Tommy continued. He paused. "Well, no, I take that back. The mid-1990s were pretty stressful at the time."

The waitress, growing impatient, frowned hard. "Sir…"

"Then when I was studying for my degree…"

"Sir?"

"And that lab explosion I somehow survived…"

"Sir!"

"Then there was that time I couldn't be see—"

Shoving a menu under his nose, the waitress asked, in the sweetest tone possible, "Can I get you something to drink, sir?"

"Ah! I'd like a jug of coffee—going to need lots of cream and some more sugar packets—and whatever type of pancakes those two are having."

"Chocolate chip?"

"That's the one!"

Relinquishing the menu, the waitress gratefully left. Tommy smiled after her, then turned to regard his students with another creepy grin.

Billy was exhausted.

Somehow, when he and Jason had returned to the house, they hadn't mentioned thinking up things to say in their speeches at all. They'd joked and laughed and sorted out his Wal-Mart things and played a few rounds of Super Street Fighter II on the battered SNES, but they hadn't given any thought to their speeches. They'd gone to high school together, after all, so they were masters of procrastinating together.

Eventually they'd gone to bed, and once again Billy's eyes had snapped open freakishly early. It was now nine o'clock; Jason was still asleep, and the others were probably doing likewise at the hotel. Hell, even Jason's dog was curled up on the couch in the family room, dreaming doggy dreams of poodles and open fields without leashes and endless T-bone steaks, and Billy was sitting on the couch in the living room, staring blankly at the dormant television, images of the previous day flitting through his head (interspersed with images of Ryu, Ken, M. Bison and Chun Li, but that was beside the point). Meeting up with his father for the first time… how old he looked, how proud he'd been, how understanding he was. Tinkering with the RADBUG and all the old mechanisms in the garage. The gas station. The Command Center… oh, god, how strange, how sad, how wonderful to be back with his friends. Wal-Mart, the way the team immediately lost themselves in their insanity, returning to the age of seventeen (eleven, in Zack's case).

And the purse snatching. The old fear of being discovered. Plotting together, just like the old days, falling back into The Mode. Listening to each other, Jason making the calls, even the ones he didn't want to make. And then…

Morphing.

It was so incredible. God, he'd missed it. Yet it had felt so wrong, being Black. He told himself that it didn't matter, wasn't a problem… yet every last particle in his body had screamed that he was Blue, not Black, not Black, it was wrong…

Yet the power was still there. So much so that he'd kept glancing down at the suit and checking to make sure it wasn't about to magically change into the Triceratops uniform. He'd actually yelled "Triceratops!" the first time, then felt like an idiot and switched to "Mastodon!"

It was a monument to how much things had changed… and also a monument to how easy it would be to leave his new life, his new home, his new friends, Cestria… and reclaim what was his.

And Billy was sick to death of thinking about it.

He grabbed the remote, scanning the buttons for a moment. He had yet to operate the TV without Jason; he'd tried to figure out the remote and Jason had just given him a sympathetic look at taken the remote and done it himself. But not for nothing was Billy hailed as one of the smartest Rangers ever; he puzzled it out quickly enough and switched the TV on. The cable company was different than the one he remembered, so he knew he'd have to hunt for the proper channels, as the ones whose numbers he could remember had all been renumbered… but as the TV sprang to life, all thoughts of channel surfing disappeared.

He didn't know what channel it was on; the call letters at the bottom of the screen were unfamiliar. He didn't think it mattered; he'd probably see something similar on every local channel.

Back in the days of the Power Rangers, it wasn't uncommon to turn on the TV and find the regularly scheduled program interrupted by some news bulletin or another. It was annoying, but practically expected. Warnings of monster attacks, or happy reports that the battle was over, as if the fact that the city wasn't standing wasn't enough of a clue that they were safe for the moment. The city had settled frighteningly easily into routines for dealing with attacks—evacuation, panic, evacuation, what do if you're placed under an evil spell, evacuation, what to do if you encounter a monster, evacuation, always watch the news just in case, and evacuation. He recognized the bulletin on the screen at once—he'd seen them a million times.

Only this one wasn't about a monster attack.

"We repeat, the name of the Black Mighty Morphin' Power Ranger has been revealed. Dr. Tommy Oliver, who, in rescuing his girlfriend from a purse snatcher, failed to notice that the purse snatcher was in fact a high school classmate, Walter Johnson. Walter Johnson has positively identified the Black Ranger as Dr. Oliver, and, while Dr. Oliver was not available for comment—"

"JASON!" Billy bellowed. The dog jolted awake with a bark of protest.

Within two seconds Jason fell/leaped out of his bedroom, half asleep but battle-ready. "What?"

"They did it again!" Billy wailed, chucking the remote across the room.

End Notes: Sorry, we couldn't resist the nod to Bridge with Trini's hairdryer. I always loved the fact that Trini was almost as smart as Billy… besides, the SPD Rangers probably aren't going to get to make an appearance in this story (there aren't many plausible ways to put them in here), although I can tell you that Freyja and I are trying to throw them into the sequel. (We're planning at least two sequels to this story as of right now; not sure if I mentioned that or not.)