Chapter Fifty-seven

Rocky Just Wants to Have Fun

"It's right over here," Dee said, shifting the drinks in the crook of her arm.

"Let me help you with that," Conner said eagerly, taking two of them from her.

"Thank you," she said, beaming at him and taking a long slurp through the straw of the last drink.

Without warning, Rocky and Zack lunged forward, each taking one of Conner's drinks. "Hey!" he hissed as Dee skipped ahead. "I was helping! I thought we agreed that I get Dee!"

"You do. These are for Sandra and Rachel," Rocky pointed out, taking a sip of the cup meant for Rachel.

"Oh." Conner pursed his lips, a little annoyed that he hadn't gotten to carry Dee's drink, but he brightened when he realized that at least now she could comfortably carry her own drink, and even more when he realized he had plenty of stuffed animals in his pants.

"Hey, Dee!" Conner called, hurrying to catch up to her while simultaneously digging for something suitable in his jeans. "Look what I won for you!" She turned just in time to see him unearth something that might have been a green otter, or possibly a cat; it was hard to tell.

"Aw! It's a green lobster!" she exclaimed, hugging it to her chest. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Conner said proudly. He was about to say something else, but Rocky dragged him back so that he was behind Dee again.

"Hey, man, hook us up," Zack whispered. "Got anything else?"

Conner fished about in his pants. A few items had already fallen out the bottom of his leg holes, and the ones that had been stuffed in his shirt were already strewn between the water-gun-race game and the admissions booth, thanks to the security guards. After a moment, he unearthed a polka-dot donkey and a pink giraffe. "These do?"

Rocky and Zack looked at each other. "Those came out of your pants, dude," Rocky said slowly.

Zack started to reach for the giraffe, but he pulled back with a sigh. "I can't do it."

"Thanks anyway," Rocky added ruefully.

"Suit yourself." Conner shrugged and caught up with Dee.

Rocky and Zack shared another glance. "What do you think Kimberly would do to us if we ripped off Jake?" Rocky mused.

Zack shuddered. "Nah, man, I don't want to think about it."

Sighing, the two continued to follow Dee. "Oh, there's my car," Adam called from behind them, pointing it out. "I was wondering where we left it."

"That's yours?" Conner asked, impressed by the shiny black Mercedes.

"Yeah. Gift from Tanya," Adam replied.

"That's some… that was nice of her," Conner amended, appalled that he'd almost said "That's some girlfriend you've got there" in front of Dee.

Adam made a noncommittal noise, too busy staring at Dee's truck as the gang came to a halt behind it. Almost unconsciously, they walked around it in awe.

"Here she is," Dee said proudly.

She needn't have said anything; somehow none of them doubted that the truck belonged to Zack's chaos girls. It was a slightly-dented Ford F-150 full-size pickup, and it was a bright, frightening shade of orange—in the spots that weren't covered by bumper stickers. At some point, the truck had run out of bumper, and the girls had simply covered the entire rest of the truck in stickers; even the roof had stickers all over it. Some were easily recognizable, while others were original and still others had obscure quotes.

"Hey, Jason?" Zack called. "Your German is better than mine. Does this one say 'I eat green beans in the nude?'"

Jason looked at the sticker in question, which was sandwiched between "A good fight is like a stick of broccoli, but different" and "Washing your car only to have a bird crap on it two seconds later is a metaphor for life." Jason, Trini and Zack had all picked up bits and pieces of foreign languages at the Peace Conference, though they'd each gotten good at different ones depending on their individual friends, teachers and roommates. "Yeah. That's what it says," Jason confirmed.

"Does it make any sense to you?" Zack asked.

"Nope."

"…Any idea why it's in German?"

"Nope."

"Ah. Okay then."

Jason pulled out his cell phone. "Who you calling?" Zack asked.

"No one. I'm taking pictures to torture Tommy with later." Jason grinned. "It's a psychotic orange pickup truck, man."

Zack chuckled and shook his head. "Will you look at this thing? It'd take hours to read all of it!"

The only bits that didn't have stickers were two patches on either side, both of which had the words, "The Sharpie Graffiti Girls of Doom" in spiky, stylized letters, one word each in red, black, blue, green, purple and brown.

Billy peered in through the open passenger window at the dashboard, which was covered in magnets, action figures, and assorted knickknacks. Most disconcertingly, they had several dozen tiny toy Power Ranger helmets hanging from the rearview mirror—which looked like miniature decapitated Power Ranger heads to Billy.

"Um… what are those?" Billy whispered to Trini.

"Those? Lollipop covers. We have a bunch of them at the house. They're little helmet keychains with a lollipop you can take out and eat."

Billy nodded and made the unfortunate mistake of leaning a little closer, looking for his own helmet in the two-foot-long string—and suddenly a sword flashed through the air three inches from his nose.

"ARGH!" Billy screamed, leaping back.

"I found it!" shouted a cheerful voice, and suddenly Rachel popped up in the window as Billy clutched his heart and tried to see something other than "large sword close enough to shave my eyebrows." "It was back under the seat!"

Rachel began to climb out of the window, still clutching the sword. "Hi," she said, blinking at Trini and Billy in surprise. "You're Rocky's friends, right?"

"Hey," Rocky called, hurrying over and offering her the cup. "Drink?"

"Ooh, thanks," she said, sucking a good third of the drink through the straw without pausing for breath while Rocky watched with interest. When she finally paused for air, she looked up at him expectantly. "Did you guys ditch the carnival or something?"

"We got banned," Rocky said.

"Nifty," Rachel said, thrusting with her sword for emphasis. Billy ducked instinctively.

"It was mostly my fault," Rocky said conspiratorially.

She grinned. "I knew you were my kind of crazy."

"Rachel!" Dee called. "Sandra's stuck again!"

Rachel rolled her eyes and marched over to the tailgate, which was open. Rachel and Dee each reached into the bed, which had a solid black canvas shell over it. A moment later they were hauling Sandra out of the truck bed by the ankles.

"Did you find the toolbox?" Rachel asked.

"I think it's caught on a bungee cord," Sandra said in a muffled voice, just as Dee lost her grip. Rachel and Dee stumbled back, Rachel struggling to hang onto the sword and Dee's drink sloshing ominously as Sandra disappeared, yanked back into the truck bed. A moment later, Sandra called, "Yeah, definitely a bungee cord."

"Stand aside, ladies," Zack said cheerfully. He sat Sandra's drink on the pavement, shouldered between Rachel and Dee, grabbed Sandra's ankles, and heaved. Sandra came shooting out the back of the tailgate, clutching a small gray toolbox. She fought to hold onto it for a moment, but the bungee cord hooked on the handle proved stronger; the box flew out of her hands and slammed back into the truck. There was a loud click.

"Uh-oh," Sandra, Dee and Rachel chorused, diving back.

The Rangers made a break for it. Zack dropped and rolled under the Buick parked next to the truck, where he collided with Billy. Conner and Trini dove under the Suburban across from the truck, while Rocky, Jason and Adam ran back towards Adam's car.

The canvas truck topper began folding down, like a convertible car's top. Then, without warning, a bright orange tent sprang up and out with alarming speed, filling the bed of the truck and popping up to its full height.

"What the—?" Adam demanded, his hand already on the door handle of his nice, normal, safe Mercedes.

"Whoa, it's a truck tent," Jason breathed. "I always wanted one of those. Most of the ones I've seen aren't automatic, though."

"Yeah, we got tired of all the setup, so we found a way to make it spring-loaded, and when it's collapsed it doubles as a bed cover under the Softopper," Rachel said. "Trouble is, the release button's pretty easy to accidentally smack."

"Prodigious," Billy said, peeking up from beneath the truck.

"You guys go camping a lot?" Jason asked as Zack, Billy, Conner and Trini crawled out of hiding and Rocky, Adam and Jason cautiously returned.

"Sort of. We live in the truck, most of the time," Sandra explained. "It's easier that way, since we're always on the road."

"What do you guys do?" Rocky asked.

"We run a website. Long story," Rachel replied. She looked at Sandra and Dee. "Match you for it?"

The three engaged in a game of "Rock, Paper, Scissors," which Sandra lost. Grumbling, she climbed into the tent. It rustled about for a bit before slowly beginning to collapse; Sandra hurried back out of it. "It really sucks to get stuck in there while it's folding," Sandra explained.

Dee headed for the drink Zack had set on the ground. "Oh, before I forget—your drink," Zack said, scooping it up before Dee could get too close.

"Oh, thank god," Sandra said gratefully, taking a swig. "I'm dying of thirst."

"Want me to get the toolbox for you?" Zack asked. "I'm pretty good at getting into tight spaces."

Sandra smiled at him. "Thanks."

"So what exactly is the problem?" Billy asked.

"We're not sure," Dee said. "We made it through the drive-thru at Wendy's and noticed it was smoking. But it's not overheating. So we're pretty confused. Anyway, in order to look under the hood, we have to have a flashlight and the sword, and we couldn't find the sword and the toolbox was stuck."

"Why…?" Trini began.

"Long story," Rachel said, accepting the toolbox from Zack.

"It's Rachel's fault," Sandra said quickly.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "How was I supposed to know he was a lunatic? You thought he was okay, too!"

"Yeah, but I didn't break his heart and make him angry enough to rewire the entire truck!" Sandra insisted.

"Can we fight after we fix the truck?" Dee asked hopefully.

"I didn't break his heart! I just said I didn't believe in monogamy on a long-term basis."

"That would be what broke his heart!"

"They do this a lot," Dee said with a sigh.

"What exactly are they arguing about?" Conner asked.

"I'm not sure I wanna know," Trini muttered.

"Well, see, Rachel used to be involved with this guy, Dale—he was really smart, knew all this stuff about cars and computers and stuff. Then she dumped him. And he did all this… stuff… to our truck."

"Like what?" Adam asked.

"Well… for one thing, made it so we couldn't open the hood without a flashlight and the sword," Dee replied. "Every button in the truck does something different than it's supposed to, and he added a few new ones."

The group moved around to the hood of the truck. Sandra dug through the toolbox, which was filled with various odds and ends, primarily the sorts of things that aren't generally found in a toolbox—sparkplugs, light bulbs, paper towels, and several books from The Worst Case Scenario Survival Handbook series. "Nice flashlight," Billy said.

"Police issue," Rachel said absently as she crouched down so that her eyes were level with the hood.

"You were a cop?" Rocky asked.

"No, I knew a couple of cops, is all," Rachel replied.

"And that's why we can't safely enter the state of Maine anymore," Sandra muttered.

"Would you get over that? There are still forty-seven other states we can drive to whenever we want!" Rachel snapped. "And it's not like Maine's on the way to anywhere important!"

"Forty-five and a half," Dee corrected helpfully. "You keep forgetting Alaska and Hawaii."

"We can drive to Alaska," Rachel argued. "It's not across the Pacific."

"No, but it's across Canada. We said we wouldn't go through customs again," Sandra said as she steadied the flashlight.

"Oh, yeah."

"What's the half a state?" Zack asked.

"Michigan. We can't go into the lower peninsula anymore," Sandra replied.

"The upper part's fine though," Dee added.

Jason leaned over to Trini. "You know," he whispered, "every time I meet one of Zack's dates I'm really, really thankful I have you." Trini snorted and put a hand to her mouth to muffle her laughter.

Rachel motioned to the Rangers. "You guys might wanna stand back," she said. They all dove back a good six feet as Rachel thrust the sword under the hood and swished it to the side. The hood whooshed up automatically, dangerously fast.

"Yay! Finally," Dee breathed, and all of them clustered around, peering under the hood. The various working parts had been painted—the engine, for example, was detailed in blue with yellow stars, and the relay switch covers were tie-dyed.

"This is awesome," Conner said. Rocky nodded in agreement.

"You said it was smoking but not overheating?" Billy asked.

"Yeah," Rachel said. "We're a little concerned."

"Give me a second." Billy gazed into the truck for a moment, then slid under the hood. A few seconds later, he rolled back out. "You've just got an oil leak," Billy explained. "That's what's causing the smoke—but it's still safe to drive. For a while, anyway. You'll have to keep checking the oil until you get it fixed."

"That's it?" Rachel said in disbelief. "I was expecting something major. Nothing minor ever goes wrong."

"They must be our lucky charms," Dee said, beaming at Conner.

"Yeah, or else the gods are just luring us into a false sense of security before smiting us really, really hard," Sandra muttered darkly.

"Well, it's nothing to scoff at—you should get it fixed as soon as you can. But like I said, you'll be fine, as long as you make sure to keep oil in the tank," Billy said.

Rachel grabbed the dipstick and set about checking the oil. "Still fine," she said. "We weren't due for an oil change for another seven hundred and twenty-four miles, anyway."

Rocky raised his eyebrows. "You've got a pretty good memory."

"Have to keep up on stuff like that; the truck's a wreck as it is," Sandra muttered.

Rachel bristled. "It's still the coolest truck ever. How many people have a convertible pickup truck?"

"You mean the way your truck cover folds down?" Jason asked.

"No, I mean this." Rachel slammed the hood back down, went to the driver's side, and grabbed hold of an odd sort of clasp. Dee flipped open a similar clasp on the passenger's side, and the entire roof of the cab slowly slid backwards. "See?" Rachel said proudly. "It was one of the few modifications I had Dale do before he went psycho on us. There's a release in the middle of the backseat so we can pull it all the way off and store it in the bed of the truck. And we have a spare roof."

"That's a great idea," Billy breathed, his face lighting up. He shared an excited look with Trini.

"Not to my truck, you're not!" Jason said firmly, though neither Billy nor Trini had mentioned anything about experimenting on his vehicle. Jason loved his truck too much to try sawing the top off, even if it might land him with a convertible pickup.

"Of course not, honey," Trini said soothingly, and not very convincingly.

"It's kind of annoying to take the top on and off, but it's really fun having a convertible, too," Dee said as she and Rachel slid the clasps back into place.

"Point is, our truck kicks ass," Rachel said proudly.

"Sure, if you don't mind pushing the passenger's window button to move the seat forward," Sandra mumbled.

"You know," Rocky said, sidling closer to Rachel, "I'd love to take a ride in this thing."

"Yeah, me too," Zack said quickly.

"Yeah," Conner added.

"We're banned from the carnival," Rocky continued, "so why don't we swing by the Havoc Center? It's just on the other side of Stone Canyon. They've got bumper cars, go-karts, that sort of thing. Hang out there until Tommy shows back up. Our treat," he added to Rachel, Sandra and Dee.

The three girls looked at each other and shrugged. "Okay," Sandra said.

"Um… why don't you guys wait here for a second?" Trini said to the three girls. "We've got to put some stuff back in Zack's car."

"Hurry back," Sandra said, smiling at Zack.

The Rangers moved off through the parking lot. As soon as they were out of earshot, Trini hissed, "Are you sure you want to go riding around with them?"

"Yep," Conner, Zack and Rocky replied in unison.

"They seem kind of… off," Trini said.

"They seem kind of interested, too," Rocky returned. He and Zack grinned at each other.

"But they're weird. Did you notice their accents are slipping?"

"Yeah," said Zack. Accents were another thing one picked up on at the Peace Conference. "I'm guessing Sandra's from Boston, Rachel's from the southeast—Kentucky or Georgia or something—and Dee's either Australian, or maybe a New Zealander." He paused. "What do they call people from New Zealand? Zealandese?"

"Neo-Zeals?" Conner guessed.

"That's not the point," Trini said sharply. "They hopped the fence to get into the carnival, you know."

"So?" Rocky said.

"So that's not exactly a kosher thing to do!"

"This from the girl who started a carnival riot," Conner pointed out. Trini glared at him. "Who is also wonderful, kind, caring and very nonviolent," Conner continued nervously. Trini rolled her eyes.

"So they hopped a fence, big deal. It's not like they killed anybody," Zack said.

"What about that thing about not being to enter specific states?" Trini shot back.

"So? I can't go to Texas," Adam said. The others turned to stare at him. "Um… long story," he said sheepishly. He cleared his throat, then brightened. "Ooh! And Tommy won't go to Florida, or Arizona!"

"Why not?" Conner asked.

"Florida because that's where Kimberly was training for the Pan Globals," Billy replied.

"And Arizona because, well, he had a bad experience with the Grand Canyon," Jason explained.

"Point is," Rocky said, "there's plenty of reasons—albeit obscure ones—for not wanting to go to specific states."

"They keep a sword in their truck!" Trini said in exasperation.

"Tri, you have a sword collection," Jason pointed out gently.

"But not in my car! You really don't think there's something off about them?" Trini demanded of Rocky, Zack and Conner, ignoring Jason.

Conner, Zack and Rocky looked at each other, then looked back at Trini blankly. "Nope."

"Look, we'll follow them in my car," Adam told Trini. "If they turn out to be axe murderers, we'll just have to hope we can take them." Adam was a little too straight-faced to not be laughing on the inside.

Trini threw up her hands. "Boys!" she exclaimed, the way a nine-year-old girl might complain after getting her hair pulled at recess. "Do what you want. Just don't come crying to me if your carcasses wind up in the desert so buzzards can eat your entrails."

"Morbid, much?" Zack asked. "That was worse than saying Jason would display my eyes for a trophy after eating my flesh."

Jason frowned. "What, exactly, did you do to deserve that?"

"It was hypothetical," Zack assured him quickly.

Rocky shook his head and turned to Jason. "And she thinks my taste in girls is whacked? Look at you!"

"Hey!" Jason socked Rocky in the arm, hard.

They headed back to the Jeep and the Escalade. Trini grabbed her shoulder bag and Conner shook the remaining animals out of his clothing while Zack and Rocky searched for anything suitable to give away (and they found plenty; all that competitiveness had loaded them down with random cheap prizes).

When they arrived back at the truck, the girls were stuffing the trash littering their floor into garbage bags. "It's gonna be a tight fit with all ten of us, but we'll manage," Dee called cheerfully.

"Adam, Jason, Billy and Trini will take Adam's car," Conner said.

Dee blinked. "Oh. That'll make it easier."

"Rocky and Zack certainly go after smart girls," Trini muttered. Jason threw an arm around her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze, but Trini wasn't comforted. "Smart axe murderers," she added under her breath.

"We'll have to follow you," Rachel said. "I get lost easy, and I'm not from around here."

"Where are you from?" Trini asked, a note of challenge in her voice.

"Wisconsin," Rachel replied, her accent slipping into a southern twang on the O. Trini sighed. Rachel turned to Dee. "Give me the keys."

Dee whined. "Can't I drive, just this once?"

"No! The last time you drove the steering wheel fell off!" Rachel snapped.

"That wasn't my fault!"

"Come on, Rae, let her drive," Sandra said wearily. Then she added, rather pointedly, "At least she's never accidentally driven us to Alabama."

"That was one time!"

"Or Pennsylvania," Sandra continued.

"Okay, two times."

"Or Mexico," Dee added sulkily.

"Give. Me. The. Keys!" Dee sighed and pulled a lump of keychains from her pocket. There were only four keys on the ring, and about sixteen sinister-looking instruments in addition to a couple dozen random keychains, from miniature Power Rangers and Ninja Turtles to PEZ dispensers to tiny memo books to a Magic 8-Ball.

"They have a lock-picking set on their keychain," Trini hissed to Rocky in exasperation.

Rocky shot Jason another "What kind of girl are you dating?" sort of look. "How do you know they're lockpicks?" he whispered back to her, looking at her suspiciously. Trini sighed.

Sandra and Dee threw the trash bags into the tailgate while Rachel unlocked the driver's side door. "You and Dee can sit in the back," Rachel told Conner.

"Cool," Conner said, climbing in. Dee followed him and locked the seat into place behind her. Conner instantly regretted agreeing with Rachel; leg room was nonexistent in the backseat.

"Sorry, you have to climb over," Sandra told Zack. "The passenger door doesn't work."

"No problem," Zack said, grabbing the roof of the truck and pulling himself up and in through the window. Sandra grinned and slid into the middle of the bench seat from the driver's side door; Zack just happened to have put his arm across the seat before she got settled, and his arm just happened to slip down onto her shoulders. Rocky followed her in, but before he could figure out exactly where Rachel could sit, she climbed onto his lap and stuck the keys in the ignition.

"Go ahead and lead the way," Rachel told Adam. "Beep when your car passes so I know it's you, and I'll follow you."

Jason, Trini, Billy and Adam left. Rocky, Zack and Conner glanced around the truck curiously. The inside was just as interesting as the outside; it was covered in doodles and quotes, all done in various colors of Sharpie. The cup holders were full of Sharpie markers. A row of six buttons—one each in red, blue, black, green, purple and brown—stretched across the dashboard.

"What do those do?" Rocky asked.

"Those? Don't touch them," Rachel said quickly. "We know the red one is the ejector seat—"

"The what?" Zack demanded.

"The ejector seat," Rachel repeated.

"You guys have—?"

"Yeah, it's one of the less pleasant things about the truck," Rachel said wearily. "We have no idea what the other five buttons do. Well, we know that one of them is a self-destruct button, but we don't know which."

"I'm telling you, it's the purple one," Sandra insisted. "What else would Dale pick for self-destruct?"

"It's too obvious!"

"He probably figured you'd see a new purple button and want to push it immediately," Sandra argued.

"Why would he put in a self-destruct button?" Rocky asked.

"Like we said, he's Looney with a side of Tunes," Rachel replied. "The only one we've figured out is the red button."

"Yeah," Dee spoke up. "This guy tried to steal our car once, but he got ejected, and when he woke up in the hospital he'd suddenly found Jesus and decided to become a priest and never try to steal cars ever again. We're really proud of that."

"Dee is, anyway," Sandra quipped, shaking her head.

"Hey, there's something back here called 'police report,'" Conner said, waving a sheaf of papers.

"Don't touch that!" all three girls exclaimed. Sandra grabbed the report and leaned across Zack to stuff it in a side compartment. Rocky and Zack exchanged a look that clearly said "Thank God Trini didn't hear that."

"Anything else we shouldn't touch?" Rocky asked.

"Nah, everything else is pretty much fair game," Rachel said, grinning mischievously at him.

Zack reached for the radio. "Hey, let's get some tunes in here." He hit the power button and the sound of a cow mooing boomed out. "Um… but not that," he said, exchanging another glance with Rocky, one that said "I'm starting to worry. Just a little." Police reports and swords, they could handle. Mooing cows from out of nowhere gave it all a surreal edge.

"That's not the radio, that's the horn," Sandra explained.

"Your horn goes 'moo'?" Conner asked.

"Actually, it does all sorts of things." Rachel poked the power button and the first few bars of "Hey, Hey, We're the Monkeys" blared out. Zack's eyes lit up and he began jabbing the button repeatedly. It did "Pop Goes the Weasel," the theme song from Sailor Moon, the sound of a rooster crowing, and a deep male voice shouting "Get off the road, idiot!"

Jason suddenly appeared at the window. "Um… are you guys okay?" he asked, staring at them nervously.

"Hey Jase, check this out!" Zack exclaimed. He hit the button again. A heavily-accented woman said "Hello, Mr. Bond." "Isn't that great?" Zack gushed.

Jason sighed long-sufferingly and looked around the parking lot at all the people staring curiously at the truck. "I'm going back to my world now," Jason said firmly.

"Kay," Rocky replied, waving at him as he left. A faint mutter of "They're doomed" could be heard, but they all ignored it.

Zack giggled and punched the button again. "Alert, alert, rabid squirrels are attacking," said a computerized female voice.

"So… if that's the horn, then what do the buttons for the horn on the steering wheel do?" Rocky asked.

Rachel held down the left horn button, and Zack's window lowered. The right button sent it back up.

"This is gonna be fun!" Conner said happily. Zack hit the radio/horn button one more time. The classic tune for impending doom—"Dum, de dum dum DUM!" blared out.

"Favorite food?"

"Still pizza. You?"

"Italian chicken."

"Favorite movie?"

"Stage Beauty." Seeing Tommy's blank look, Kimberly added, "It's a romance set in the seventeenth century."

"Ah. So… standard chick flick."

Kimberly socked him in the arm, but she smiled. They were currently wandering aimlessly through the fairgrounds and asking each other random questions, in the hopes that they'd catch up on all the basics and yet avoid awkward pauses in the conversation. "What's your favorite movie?" she asked.

"The Whole Nine Yards."

"Really? Why?"

Tommy shrugged. "It's got action and a hapless guy sucked into chaos." Kimberly chuckled. "It's your turn to think of a question."

Kimberly thought for a moment. "Favorite… time of day."

"Three thirty-four a.m."

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'noon' or 'late evening,' not a random minute."

"Three thirty-four a.m. is my favorite, though. See, right around finals week when I was really sleep-deprived, I went through this phase where I kept seeing the number 333 everywhere—in books and magazines, on billboards, in prices on things I wanted to buy, everywhere, like it was haunting me or something. I got really paranoid. And then once I took my last test I went out partying and when I looked at the clock it was, lo and behold, three thirty-four in the morning. Anyway, what's your favorite time of day?"

"Sunset. It's pretty, it's pink, and it's the end of the day but still with a reminder that tomorrow's coming, you know?"

"Ah. Let's see… new hobby."

"I like to assemble furniture."

"…Assemble furniture?"

"Yeah. I lived in dorms and hotels a lot while I was still doing gymnastics professionally. When I got my own place, I suddenly realized I needed furniture, and I'd used up just about every favor I had to get people to move me into the house, so I had to do most of my own furniture assembling. It was fun after a while, gave me a sense of accomplishment and made me realize 'hey, I'm finally on my own.'"

"Huh. I never really looked at it that way. I got kind of tired of it after Hayley had me put together most of her furniture for her."

"Really?" Kimberly asked carefully, not sure where he was going with randomly dropping in the Best Female Friend again.

"Yeah. We've always been really symbiotic. She helped me with my homework and the Ranger stuff, kept me organized and everything. But she's so on top of things that there isn't much I can do to pay her back—she's even into cars and she's very handy. Like Trini. So mostly I just did manual labor. I did most of the chores when we were living together, carried the heavy stuff, fixed her car when she'd let me, unclogged the sink…"

"You sound like you were married to her," Kimberly said, fighting to keep her voice neutral.

"Yeah. It was kind of a weird phase. We were like a couple from a fifties sitcom. Separate beds but still married. It took me about three months to figure out how to survive without her when we moved out, and even now she still helps me function. I can't imagine life without her."

"Must be nice," Kimberly mumbled, trying to sound pleasant. She was surprised to feel a twinge of jealousy go through her. Though Kimberly would never, ever admit it, the idea of some other girl being so important to Tommy just… stung.

"Yeah. Anyway, I guess my new hobby's pretty obvious."

Kimberly frowned. "It is?"

"Paleontology…?" Tommy reminded her.

Kimberly smacked her forehead, chiding herself for getting so hung up on Hayley that she'd forgotten the conversation. "Duh! Of course. Okay… biggest fear."

"Becoming an Orange Ranger," Tommy joked with a grin. Kimberly laughed. "Okay, seriously… dying alone."

Kimberly froze, then forced herself to act natural. Now that had stung. "I'd have to say losing you guys," she said, surprised at the effort it took to get her voice not to shake.

Tommy seemed to sense that she was uncomfortable. "Wanna hit the Kamikaze?"

Kimberly nodded and allowed Tommy to lead her towards the line. She watched him pensively as he walked casually down the path. Though they'd been having a great time, every so often Tommy would say something off, something that shook her and made her head turn to thoughts of Them. Part of her was starting to wonder if he was doing it on purpose.

Don't be paranoid, Kimberly warned herself. Just enjoy this, the chance to catch up and be around him without strings and schemes. Tommy was just messing with you because of the fry thing. Forget the games, and be his friend.

The more they talked, however, the less Kimberly wanted to be his friend.

End Notes: Still bridging a bit, but coming up on pure psycho.

Reason the updates are slowing down? I had roughly three chapters written when my comp crashed, so it was easy to throw them out there the moment my hard drive returned. Now, I'm out of pre-written material and in order to update, I have brainstorm with Freyja, type up all our ideas, proofread, read it to Freyja over the phone, read it to Bryn, make any changes we come up with, sift through hundreds of episodes looking for chapter titles, and stick it into Document Manager. Hopefully I'll have a bit more time for a while, though, as I got fed up with my boss Saturday night and walked out in the middle of the night shift, thus leaving the store unmanned for several hours and royally screwing him over (trust me, he deserved it; even people who like him agree). So until I find a new job, I'm wonderfully unemployed and loving it.

By the way, most of the story is up on deabryn, along with "Strange Relations," my Supernatural/Dino Thunder crossover that I hope at least a few of you will go read. "Of Love and Bunnies" is all on one page at deabryn, unlike here where you have to click to go to the next chapters, and it has chapter links at the top so you can skip to whatever chapter you want without leaving the page, although there's no way to review on deabryn and this story takes a little longer to upload to there.