I do not own Power Rangers: Jungle Fury.

I have not written anything quite like this before.

Francis Faye Fugleman Finds Her Voice

And Hers Is All In Her Head


The next morning at Jungle Karma Pizza . . .

"Good, morning, Fran."

"Good morning, Dom."

. . . she's as nervous as she's ever been.

She almost didn't come in.

Just to avoid the embarrassment, the humiliation, of facing him after last night.

How will she function, how will she manage, how will she look him in his handsome face-

"Sleep well?"

"Oh, uh, fine, I guess."

But Dom's acting the way he's always acted.

"I mean, not really."

Cheery and positive and . . .

"Yeah, me neither. Neighbor's dog barked all night."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. If you find me curled up with the napkin stash, just shake me awake."

"O-okay."

. . . just Dom.

And they move on . . .

"Hey, Theo, have you seen Casey?"

"Yeah, he's out back with the truck arguing over how many cases of Parmesan is too many for one delivery."

"Okay, I'll talk to him later."

. . . with their day.

And Dom holds true to his word.

He smiles at her, hugs her, kisses her cheek, her hand.

Nothing overt, nothing weighted in sexual tension.

"Hey, Table Five needs more garlic sauce."

"Coming right up."

Nothing passive aggressive or pointed or heavy handed.

Just . . .

"Whew. Want to get out of here awhile?"

"Yes, please."

. . . normal.


But she's still her.

"Are you mad at me? About last night? About us?"

And he's still him.

"Do I seem mad at you, Fran?"

Even though she's anxious and itchy and . . .

"No. I don't think so."

"Good. Because I'm not."

. . . he's stubbornly acting completely normal.

"It's just, uh, well, you know . . ."

And it's driving her crazy.

And Dom stops, sun squinting his eyes, hands gentle and strong as they take hers.

"I'd like you to learn to trust me, Fran."

And she leans in.

"I do, I-"

Eager to -

I can't not be.

I don't know how.

. . . please.

"Fran, breathe."

And she does.

And he . . .

"I want you to trust that I'm not mad just because I'm not getting what you think I want."

. . . speaks reassuring words.

"I know, I-"

Which she runs right over.

"I want you to be able to be comfortable in this relationship doing what is completely in your own self-interests."

I can't do that, I-

"And I want you to know I'm not going anywhere in the meantime."

And he tries again.

"I'm just respecting your space, Fran."

While she struggles to accept . . .

"Because it is your space."

. . . that he really means it.

I know, I know.

And she struggles anyway.

And then he hugs her, sincere and sweet and kisses her on the top of her head.

"I love you, Fran. And I'm fine. We're fine. I want you to take your time, okay? Because it's your right."

And it feels genuine and true.

"Okay."

And she tried to believe it.

"Please believe that."

Because she wants to.

"Okay."

And she tries to trust him.


When they're alone together now, he's more close friend than boyfriend.

More like they were in Europe.

With the addition of her long dreamed kisses on the lips and private, secret smiles.

He still does not pursue romance with her, much to her chagrin and his stubborn adherence to acting like it's totally fine and normal for them to not be super physical.

And at every parting . . .

"I love you, Fran."

"I love you, Dom."

. . . he tells her he loves her.


"Soooo . . . how are things between you and Dom?"

Lily's smile is inviting, secretive.

Girl-to-girl conversational.

Why, what has he said, has he said something, he must've said something-

Wait, why would Dominic talk to you about our non-romantic romantic life?

Unless he talked to Theo and Theo talked to you-

Wait, that doesn't make sense either, what is wrong with me, he wouldn't talk to any of them about something like that-

Did he? Would he?

"Oh, um, they're . . . fine."

And Lily's pretty, bright, absolutely non-Fran face is easy, relaxed.

Of course she is, she's a Ranger, she fights Renshi, she's not afraid of anything, I bet she even would feel comfortable dominating Dom-

Nope, nope, never mind that-

"So, um, how are you and Theo?"

"We're great! He's really sweet, I just can't believe it took him so long to ask me out, you know?"

And Fran, personal information divulgence successfully sidestepped, floats along in the bubbly, cheery wake . . .

". . . the other night, have you seen it, it's got that guy from that other movie and that girl with the hair . . ."

. . . of her best friend . . .

". . . good but I think next time we'll just go dancing or something, I get bored just sitting around . . ."

. . . that she absolutely cannot confide in.

"Hey, maybe we all could go on a double date sometime, what do you think?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, sure."

About this anyway.


This goes on for days, a week, two.

Fran and Dominic, not Fran and the effervescent Lily, that, well, most of that . . .

"So, what do you think about that double date idea, Lily?"

"Oh, um, let me check my calendar . . ."

. . . is easy peasey, could go on forever.

But her and Dom . . .

"Hey, Fran."

"Hey, Dom."

"Want to go for a walk?"

"Sure."

. . . well,-

She keeps waiting for him to get frustrated, impatient.

Bored with her.

No matter what he says, she can't imagine he won't.

But he doesn't.

Or doesn't seem to.

He stays Dom and she stays her.

Sometimes, okay, often, she's tense and anxious about it all.

Sometimes it keeps her up at night, fidgety and anxious.

Sometimes she twists her hair, bites her nails.

Kneads her hands together, wrings them.

Sometimes she taps her foot, jiggles it until she's a flurry of churning emotion.

"You all right, Fran?"

"Oh hey, RJ. Yeah, yeah, I'm good."

"'Cause if that's not a Cheese Blast Supreme, it's about to be."

"Oh. Sorry."

"No problem."

But she doesn't talk about it, not to anybody.

Who would she talk to, could she trust?

And she knows this is supposed to be her time to change, evolve.

Into being more comfortable with herself, her choices, her decisions.

And she thinks about it, she tries.

And sometimes she succeeds.

In small, minuscule, microscopic ways.

And sometimes . . .

"Why do you tell me every night you love me?"

"Because I do, Fran. And I want you to know everything is okay between us."

"Even though you're not getting anything in return?"

"I'm getting to be with you, Fran. That's everything to me. "

"Really?"

"Really."

Are you sure?

. . . she doesn't exactly succeed.


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