Long Distance

by Starhawk

Chapters:

1. A Friend
2. Every Wish
3. Good Intentions
4. Believe
5. Sunset Glow
6. From Here On
7. Knowing You
8. Moon Shadow
9. Come With Me

1. A Friend

The deserted mine was still and peaceful this summer afternoon, calm in the wake of the chaos that had invaded it earlier in the day. If the quiet atmosphere hanging over it was any indication, it could have been abandoned years since.

Stepping carefully around an empty wheelbarrow, knocked onto its side by the morning's commotion, she listened to the silence. It sounded oddly lonely, despite the fact that the breeze stirring around her bare shoulders gave her the strangest feeling of companionship. It was as though she wasn't really alone here at all.

She froze, the realization that she was right somewhat unnerving with its suddenness. She *wasn't* alone. Someone stood down by the deserted blue pickup truck, apparently drawn back to this place even as she had been. Not one of her fellow Rangers--even from this distance, she was sure of that, for the figure by the truck was wrapped in darkness. Any of her friends would have been as brightly clad as she, albeit in their own colors.

*The truck's owner?* she wondered, suddenly uncertain. She had no business being here. The site was off limits to civilians until the "authorities" declared it safe again. And even then, a gold mine was hardly an acceptable hangout for teenagers. The man by the truck could make life difficult for her if he caught her snooping around, even if he wasn't technically supposed to be here either.

But why was he just standing there? Even as far away as she was, she could see how perfectly motionless the man was. Head bowed, with one hand resting on the tailgate of the pickup truck--she wondered if he was looking for something. He lifted his hand after a moment, his fingers just barely touching his chest as he raised his head to stare off into the distance.

She frowned a little, forgetting her intent to leave as she studied his odd posture. He seemed almost to be... in pain. As though he had lost something, something terribly important to him that he had no hope of regaining.

She hesitated, feeling as though she ought to do something to comfort him. *I don't even know him,* she reminded herself, trying to convince herself to turn quietly away and slip off before he realized she was there. *He's just some guy who works at the mine. There's nothing I can do.*

But the logic of it failed to convince her, and she took an involuntary step forward.

As quiet as she thought she was being, some sound must have caught his attention, for the stranger whirled toward her. He tensed, drawing his hands up in front of him, his eyes scanning restlessly until they locked onto her. She held her hands out to the side instinctively, startled by the defensiveness of his reaction.

He stared at her, and she stared back, neither of them moving for several seconds.

"I was just--looking for someone," she said at last, seeing him start at the sound of her voice.

He turned away abruptly, two strides carrying him past the end of the pickup truck and toward the edge of the clearing before she realized what he was doing. "Wait," she called automatically, frowning after him. There was something in the way he walked... "Don't go!"

He halted, twisting his head to one side enough that he gave the impression of looking over his shoulder without actually meeting her eyes. His words were soft, but they were enough to stop her heart. "Pink Ranger?"

"What?" she managed, wondering frantically how he could have known. "What did you call me?"

"Your voice," he said quietly, turning the rest of the way around to study her openly. "Your clothes, your concern... you are the Pink Ranger."

Her eyes widened. He kept his voice so quiet she had to strain to hear, but it was--familiar? "Do I know you?"

He looked down, and she could have sworn she heard a soft sigh escape. "Not as such."

She stared, blinking only as she realized he had started to walk away again. "But who are you?" she called after him. "How do you know me?"

He did not answer, but she saw his hand brush against the pickup truck again as he passed. Disbelieving recognition crashed home with that simple gesture, and she whispered, "Phantom?"

He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Phantom Ranger?" she repeated, more loudly. He had been standing by the pickup truck--the exact spot she had returned to visit, for no reason she could justify to herself. She just had to come back. Maybe to remember... or maybe in the vain hope that he would somehow be here again

"Is that what you call me?" he asked. His quiet voice was resigned, but it was touched with the slightest tinge of amusement.

She blushed. "You didn't exactly introduce yourself," she muttered.

"I suppose not," was all he said.

This time when he moved to leave, she ran after him. "Please wait--" She reached out to touch his arm, and drew back in surprise as his form seemed to shimmer out of existence.

He appeared again, facing her and a step farther away than he had been before. His hand was clenched around some sort of pendant, and the haunted look on his face made her pause.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked worriedly, staying still so as not to spook him further. She hadn't thought he could vanish that quickly when he wasn't morphed.

"You must not touch me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. She realized suddenly how blue his eyes were, as they stared into hers with an intensity she could almost *feel*.

"Why not?" she asked, blushing as she realized she was breathless with the force of his regard. Had she been this bad when she was talking to him earlier? No wonder he had walked away...

"Because..." He closed his eyes, freeing her from his scrutiny at last. But his voice captivated her in much the same way, and she found herself hanging on his every word. "Because," he repeated, even more quietly, as if confessing something he knew he should not, "I am attracted to you, Pink Ranger. In every sense of the word. You must not get too close."

"My--" she swallowed, not knowing how else to respond and wishing desperately that her heart would calm down. The feeling that she had been waiting for that admission was as inexplicable as it was undeniable. "My name is Cassie."

His eyes flickered open, and his eyes locked with hers again. What was he reading from her expression, she wondered. "Why do you tell me this?" he whispered. "Do you have any idea how that name will now haunt my dreams?"

"I'm telling you--" She took a deep breath. "Because I'd like to hear you say it."

She almost crossed her fingers as she waited on his reply. She had felt something indefinable for him since she first caught a glimpse of his retreating form at the bank this morning, and their brief conversation here only hours before had magnified it tenfold. Now, seeing him as he truly was and hearing him admit what she herself had not been able to until now, she wondered if maybe she wasn't as crazy as she had thought. Or, if she was, at least she was in good company...

"Cassie," he breathed, and she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "You are beautiful when you smile, Cassie," he said softly, then winced. "I am sorry--I did not mean to say that."

"I'm glad you did," she murmured, heart pounding faster as she considered what she was about to do. "Can I... this is going to sound strange, but..." *Just do it!* "Do your people... kiss?"

His eyes were wide. "What?"

"I have to touch you," she whispered. "Don't disappear."

He swallowed, then nodded wordlessly.

She took a step closer, reducing the distance between them to almost nothing, and she saw him close his eyes. For her part, she *couldn't* close her eyes--his face held her entranced as she leaned closer, letting her lips brush gently against his.

She thought a tremor ran through him, and the pleading look in his eyes startled her when he opened them only centimeters from her own. "On my world," he breathed, searching her expression, "it is a sign of affection."

She nodded, unable to speak.

"Here, as well?" he asked, as though scarcely daring to believe it.

"Here as well," she echoed. "More than affection, sometimes..."

She put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him again, lightly, and this time she was *sure* she felt him shiver. She pulled away just enough that she could focus on his face. "What is it?"

"I--" He closed his eyes. "I do not wish to sound presumptuous."

She tried to stifle a giggle. "I think we're past that. Go ahead and say it."

"I wish to hold you," he confessed, blinking his eyes open and staring hungrily at her. "May I... put my arms around you?"

She stared at him, until it finally dawned on her that she was as alien to him as he was to her. He was trying to be polite, considerate of everything he might not know about her culture, and she found it terribly endearing. "Anytime," she assured him, with her brightest smile.

Her hands were still on his shoulders, and she felt his arms slide under hers, wrapping around her waist and pulling her close. She took a deep breath as the warm comfort of another body pressed against hers drained away tension she hadn't recognized she was carrying, and she hugged him in return as hard as she could.

His pendant pressed against her chest, oddly rough, and she realized suddenly that she hadn't noticed it since his hand had stopped clutching it several minutes ago. *Invisible?* she wondered. She could certainly *feel* it, though the minor discomfort was overshadowed by the tingling of her skin as he tickled her back gently with his fingers and rubbed his cheek against hers.

"Why did you come back?" he whispered in her ear, the words slipping across her skin and his breath tangling in her hair. He did not loosen his grip on her, and she wasn't about to let go.

"I had to," she murmured, unable to explain it even now. "I... I felt like part of me was here."

She felt him sigh. "I was compelled to return as well," he admitted. "I do not know why I demorphed, for it was certainly a reckless act. I can only offer as rationalization the fact that your memory seemed somehow closer that way..."

"Closer than that, now," she said softly, and his arms tightened around her.

"Yes," he agreed, and they stood there for a few moments in complete silence.

A quiet but annoyingly high-pitched chime impinged on the clearing's quiet atmosphere, and she started. He stroked her back soothingly, but she could feel him suddenly stiffer than he had been before. "My ship," he said, his whisper dismayed. "I must go."

"No--" She tried to draw back, but he wouldn't let her go. "What if I don't see you?"

Her communicator beeped. The six-note tone was unmistakable, and she sighed. "Never mind."

"Cassie." He turned his head slightly, just enough to kiss her temple. "I am on leave now--is there anyway I could see you again, soon?"

She bit her lip, burying her face in his shoulder. *I don't even know him!* her mind protested, but her heart overrode it. "Tonight?" she mumbled into his tunic, and she felt him kiss her gently again.

"Tonight," he breathed, sounding relieved. "Thank you."

"Where should I--"

"I will find you," he promised. "I must go. Be safe until then."

She nodded mutely, feeling him step away, feeling him take a part of her heart with her as he backed up. He reached for a pendant that materialized with his touch, and she thought she heard her name on his lips again as the armor of "the Phantom Ranger" enveloped him.

Then he was gone, fading into invisibility even as she realized she had forgotten to ask his name.

Her communicator was beeping again, and she answered it absently, wondering if the oddest dream of her life was about to end with her rolling over in bed and waking up to the sound of her alarm clock.

The urgency in TJ's voice put an end to her speculation, however. "Cassie! We need you right away--Justin's in trouble!"

"I'm on my way," she replied immediately. She cast a final glance around the clearing, taking one more look at the deserted blue pickup truck before pink sparkles swept across her vision and obscured the area surrounding the mine.


2. Every Wish

The early autumn breeze tugged at her hair as she stared upward, searching the heavens for some sign of life, warmth, movement--some sign of caring. Something other than the same stars she had seen every night since she was little, but never really *looked* at until now. Never really considered what they meant...

She knew earlier Ranger teams had interacted with offworld teams, and she knew, intellectually at least, that Dimitria was from another world. But she had never given it much thought--"alien" was a term used only in the abstract. Dimitria simply *was*, and the other teams were vague history that she never seemed to have time to worry about.

Until now. Now she wished desperately that Kat was here, or Tanya... someone who had dealt firsthand with people from other planets, and who might be able to give her some kind of advice about what she was going through.

*Or maybe not,* she thought, dismayed. They hadn't fallen for someone from a place they'd barely even heard of, with a name they didn't even know and a life they couldn't hope to understand, let alone share. "What am I going to do?" she whispered, still staring up at the night sky.

She drew her feet up onto the step below her, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin on her hands. The Hammonds' porch light threw just enough illumination that her shadow fell over the steps and onto the edge of the driveway, mimicking her dejected posture at the edge of the evening's darkness.

She didn't even know if she'd see him again. He had asked if he could see her tonight, but his ship had departed with such finality that afternoon that she wasn't sure how serious he had been. She had no way to find him herself, and she wasn't sure she would dare to try even if she were able. It was all just too strange.

And even if he *had* been serious--what if the threat of Divatox was too great? She had tried to destroy his ship, after all. He had said he was on leave... who wanted to deal with that kind of menace while he was on vacation? Easier just to leave, no matter what he had claimed to feel for her.

Her eyes fixed on the stars, she saw a brief glimmer as a meteor streaked toward the horizon. She wondered if that was anything like what a spaceship looked like, from below, as it plunged into the atmosphere. She wondered if she would ever know.

"Who said that every wish, would be heard and answered," she whispered, the words wandering idly through her mind as she watched the firmament. "If you wished on the morning star..."

There was no morning star now, but it wasn't stopping her from wishing. She couldn't forget the feel of his arms around her when he hugged her at the mine, or the look in his clear blue eyes when she had kissed him. Now, her face burned just thinking about that impulsive act, but he hadn't seemed to mind, and the memory of his expression was worth her own embarrassment.

"Somebody thought of that," she murmured, her voice picking up the melody of the song absently as she remembered. "And someone believed it--look what it's done so far..."

If she never saw him again, would she be able to pretend nothing had happened? Dimitria had basically said he would come and go as he pleased, and after this afternoon, what reason would he have for staying? What reason could he have had for coming in the first place?

"What's so amazing," she sang, very softly, as she tried to distract herself, "it keeps us stargazing... What do we think we might see?"

There was a gentle movement behind her. She thought it was only the breeze, until a quiet voice made her jump. "What do you wish to see?"

Eyes wide, she scrambled to her feet and spun around to face the voice's owner. He stood by the end of the porch, one arm braced against the posts supporting the railing as he studied her. He was unmorphed, as she had seen him earlier, and the glow from the porch light cast eerie shadows across his features.

He held his hands out to the side as she stood, imitating the gesture she had made when she startled him by the pickup truck. "I did not mean to distress you... I apologize if my intrusion is not welcome."

"No," she said quickly, taking an inadvertent step toward him. "I mean, yes, it's very welcome. And it's no intrusion--you just surprised me, that's all."

"I told you I would find you," he reminded her softly.

"But you left! I thought..." She swallowed, not sure *what* she had thought.

"I took my ship somewhere safer," he corrected. "I could hardly leave it where it was, after everything that has happened."

"Did it--" She frowned a little, remembering the "explosion". Her curiosity momentarily overpowered her self-consciousness, and she asked, "What *did* happen? I thought Divatox destroyed it."

He shook his head, and she tried not to smile as his dark hair fell across his forehead and into his eyes. She had the strongest urge to brush it away from his face for him, but she forced herself to stay where she was and watch him push it back impatiently. "As she was intended to believe," he agreed. "The explosion was nothing more than an illusion, an automatic reaction of my ship's cloaking device. The shields are better than a mere two torpedoes."

She tried not to giggle at his sudden and casual cockiness. "A mere two torpedoes" had no doubt destroyed uncountable ships in times past. "Good," she managed, with only a hint of her smile showing through. "I was worried there for a while."

He seemed to hesitate. "Did you... should I--have spoken to you? I didn't know..."

She wanted to say "yes". She wanted to say "'I'm not really leaving' or 'I'll see you tonight' or 'I love you' would have been nice." But logic prevailed, and she shook her head reluctantly.

Before she could say anything, though, he was standing in front of her. She blinked, surprised that he had made no sound in the still night air. Then he put one finger under her chin, and she lifted her head willingly to meet his gaze.

"There were many things I *wished* I could say," he said softly. "Before I even saw your face, I wished to tell you things I have never said to another person. But they were not--*are* not, appropriate."

"Like what?" she breathed, caught up in the intensity of his gaze and the power of the moment.

He stared back at her, one hand still lightly touching her face. "That I love you," he replied, very quietly. "That I have loved you for longer than I can remember, and only just discovered it today. That I wish you to put your arms around me again and never let go. That I wish to kiss you, if it is your tradition, and if it is not, I wish..."

He swallowed suddenly and looked down, letting his hand fall. "I am sorry," he whispered. "I have said too much."

"No," she murmured, her heart racing. She reached out to take his hand, wrapping it in both of hers and staring at him in wonder. "I--I feel like that too, and I don't understand why."

"Perhaps no one ever understands destiny," he offered hesitantly, lifting his gaze to hers once more. "Maybe we can only hope to obey it..."

"Is it destiny?" she whispered, searching his expression. She didn't care how silly it sounded. Right now, all she wanted was to hear him say "yes".

"I can think of no other word for it," he said, his fingers tightening on hers as he returned her scrutiny.

That was all she needed. Leaning closer, she saw him close his eyes just as her lips touched his. She tried not to smile--the kiss was anything but serious, but he treated it like the most precious thing he had ever received. Oddly, his reaction made her want to press closer, to *really* kiss him, and she had to fight to pull away before she was tempted to find out how he would respond.

"May I hold you?" he whispered, his soft voice strained as he opened his eyes.

She nodded wordlessly, stepping into his embrace even as he put his arms around her. She felt the hug tighten as she slipped her hands around behind his back, and she leaned into him with a sigh. "You never told me your name," she realized, turning her head to lay it against his chest.

"Saryn," he murmured, and she shivered at a sound that was both alien and somehow familiar. "Saryn of Elisia."

She smiled a little, wondering if the name of his world meant "paradise" in his language as well. "I'm Cassie Chan."

She felt his hand stroke her hair, and she let her eyes slide shut. "You have two names, Cassie Chan?" he asked quietly.

Each time he spoke while they were pressed together like this, she could feel his voice through her entire body. Soft as it was, his voice sounded deeper with her head on his chest. "The first one's mine," she answered, rubbing her fingers against the soft material of his tunic and wondering idly what it was made of. "The second one is my parents'."

"They are both beautiful," he whispered, and she felt him kiss the top of her head.

She shivered involuntarily at his gentle touch, and her arms tightened around him.

"Why do you tremble?" he inquired softly, his hand running down her back as he continued to stroke her hair.

She turned her face toward his chest, mumbling, "Because I want to kiss you," as quietly as she could. She almost hoped he wouldn't hear.

His hand stilled on her hair, and she felt him grasp her arms and push her away, just a little. She looked up at him sadly, knowing she shouldn't have told him that--but the expression on his face gave her pause. He looked somehow both hopeful and desperate as he stared down at her, apparently looking for--*something* in her eyes. "Truly?" he breathed.

"Truly," she repeated, liking the sound of the word.

Then she almost gasped as his mouth pressed hard against hers, his lips parted as he silently urged her to do the same. Uncertainly, she let her mouth open beneath his demanding kiss, and she moaned inadvertently as his tongue slid inside. Her knees went weak, and she felt his grip on her arms tighten, holding her up.

One of his arms went around her shoulders then, and she let him crush her against him, unable to feel anything but his mouth on hers as he kissed her in a way she had never been kissed before. As far as she could respond, she did, molding her lips to his and drawing his breath into her, but sensation overwhelmed her and all she could do was react.

Then he twisted away, his hand clenching on her t-shirt as he looked down, muttering, "I am--"

"I'm not," she interrupted breathlessly, knowing he was about to apologize and not sure she could take it. "Saryn--"

His sapphire gaze was guilty as his eyes snapped back to hers, and she kissed him as soon as he lifted his head. He shuddered, and his tenuous control must have snapped, for he returned her kiss with the same intensity that had so startled her at first. His lips were hungry on hers, wanting something she wasn't even sure she possessed--but he didn't pull away this time, and she felt his passion igniting something inside of her.

Light flooded out onto the porch as the front door swung open, and the screen door slammed as Ashley stepped through. "Ca--" Her call cut off as abruptly as it had begun, and Cassie didn't have to turn around to know that her friend had just caught sight of her and Saryn.


3. Good Intentions

*Stop!* his mind screamed at him, but everything in him fought against the imperative. She was so willing, pressed against him and setting his senses afire with every little movement; he couldn't do what he knew he had to.

It took her drawing away, her breathing heavy and her eyes downcast as she turned, for him to regain any kind of control over himself. She kept one arm around him, and he tried not to grip her shoulder too hard as she said unsteadily, "I know this looks strange, Ash..."

She couldn't seem to continue, and he tried to draw in an even breath. "I apologize for my behavior toward your sister," he offered, knowing he sounded awkward as he tore his eyes away from the beautiful vision at his side and tried to focus on the girl in yellow. "It was not my intent to offend."

It had not been his intent to do *anything*--he had promised himself that he would not so much as touch her this night. *Unless she touched me first...* That had been the one exception that he hadn't been able to deny himself, and he had thought it so unlikely that he hadn't bothered to worry over it. For the truth, as he now knew it, was that he couldn't deny her anything when she turned that innocent gaze on him.

*Innocent, nothing,* he thought involuntarily, trying not to let his eyes drift back to her. The way she kissed robbed him of any sensible thought, stealing the aloofness and restraint that he had always been so good at and throwing them to the wind as though they were nothing.

"Maybe you should apologize to Cassie first," the other girl replied, her icy tone grabbing his attention once more. He flushed, realizing that despite his best efforts he had indeed been staring at her sister again.

"No, it's okay." The dark-haired Ranger straightened, but didn't step away from him. "I *asked* him to kiss me, Ashley. He didn't do anything wrong."

That wasn't entirely true--any of it--but his heart melted at the sound of her voice defending him. Who did she think he was, that she would stand up for him like this? And who was she, that her loyalty to someone she had only just met could be so strong?

"Who is he?" The words were an eerie echo of his own thoughts, and he glanced back at the girl he now assumed was the Yellow Ranger. How unusual to have two Rangers in one family--but her voice was the same, and she wore as much yellow as her teammate wore pink.

He felt more than saw Cassie's gaze on him, and he knew with a certainty he couldn't explain that she would not reveal him. It was up to him to offer his identity, or not, as he saw fit. But what would her teammate think of him if he told her?

What would she think of Cassie, if he did not?

"I believe you refer to me as the 'Phantom Ranger'," he said at last.

The yellow-clad girl stared back at him, the light from behind her lending a forbiddingly shadowed look to her posture. "That doesn't answer the question," she pointed out.

He swallowed uncomfortably. "I prefer not to answer in greater detail."

"What if Cassie prefers to know?" the girl demanded.

"Ash!" The arm around his waist tightened, almost as if to hold him in place. "This isn't any of your business!"

Her sister shifted her gaze to her and put her hands on her hips. "Cassie, can I talk to you for a minute?"

There was a brief moment of hesitation. He felt his heart sink as she let go of him, but she turned to him with an imploring expression and asked, "Will you wait?"

"Of course," he said softly, reaching out to touch her face. She stood, whether intentionally or not, at exactly the right angle for the light from her home to reflect in her eye--and remind him once again of how alien she really was. "I would wait forever."

As soon as the words were out, he knew they were wrong. He was helpless around her, incapable of preventing words of love and devotion from escaping from a place in his soul that he had long ago thought buried. And even more frightening was the fact that he meant them; he meant every word he said so unintentionally to her, without understanding how or why.

Her mouth curved at his simple declaration, and all his concerns evaporated into the warmth of that smile. What did the how or the why matter, after all? He had spent years trying to right myriad wrongs all across the universe, never seeming to gain any ground in either the war against evil or the fight to make his own battle-weary heart care about something--anything--again... Until he saw her, and found that she could make everything right with nothing more than a look.

He sighed silently as she turned away, taking all his hope and certainty with her. He knew nothing about her, and she knew less about him. What right did he have to think that she would even want him? How could he be so sure he wanted *her*?

For he did, he knew. He cared what she thought of him as he had not cared what anyone thought in so long. He wanted her to like him, to see someone worthwhile in who he was--he wanted, more than anything, to have her affection and... love.

And he admitted, if only to himself as he watched her slender figure climb the steps, that there was more. The way his heart pounded in his ears when she kissed him, the way he had not been able to let her go, the way his body ached when she stood so close... He didn't just want her love. He wanted *her*, as thoroughly and undeniably as he had once hungered for another's touch. He had thought those desires long gone, turned to ashes with the death of his first love and never to be rekindled.

He had been wrong.

"You've been acting weird since this morning..." The words, spoken in the Yellow Ranger's suspicious tone, drifted through the open window of their home to freeze him where he stood. "Cassie, *look* at yourself. Doesn't this seem at all strange to you, that you're suddenly head over heels for a guy you've never even met before today?"

Perhaps she didn't know he could overhear. Perhaps she simply didn't care. In either case, he could not avoid listening, and he could barely contain his dismay when Cassie's wooden reply broke the lengthening silence. "You think it's one of Divatox's tricks."

"I think we don't know anything about him," her sister said, her tone suddenly more gentle. "He could be anyone--good or evil. No one but you even saw him, at the bank *or* at the mine, and all of a sudden he turns up on your doorstep and proclaims his undying love?"

"He didn't," Cassie muttered, barely audible through the window.

"Well, he should have, if he was going to kiss you like that. It's only polite."

There was no reply.

"Cass... just think how this looks, please? He won't talk to anyone but you; he won't even show his face or tell us anything about where he's from or who he is. And you're out there, defending him and telling me to mind my own business. Doesn't that sound a little like..."

"A spell?" The controlled hurt in her voice made him want to cry out. He wanted to burst into their home and deny it, to take her in his arms and promise her anything she had ever wanted, if only she would believe in him.

But that would only convince them further, and he knew with sinking certainty that there was nothing he could say now that would prove his good intent. They continued to talk, but the words made no impression on him. He had been unable to hide what she made him feel, and now his sincerity must ring false in her ears. His recklessness had cost him the only chance he would ever have.

He heard the flimsy door bang against the side of their home, and he dragged his eyes back toward her only because he couldn't help it. The lightness was gone from her step as she came toward him, and wariness replaced the expression of wonder she had worn only a few minutes before.

"I heard," he said softly, and her eyes widened. "I will go," he added, trying to sound calm.

"But I..." She didn't finish, but an uncertain look flickered across her face.

"If you wish me to stay, you have only to say so," he whispered.

It was the wrong thing to say, for her expression closed up again, and her one word stabbed deep into his wakening heart. "No."

He swallowed. "I understand," he said carefully, and he reached for his ruby.

At the last moment, though, he could not do it. He could not will himself to teleport away, to leave her behind forever, while she still stood before him.

Letting his hand fall, he turned to walk away.

"Phan--Saryn." The uncertainty in her voice made him hesitate, and she said more quietly, "Do you understand? It's the only way I can be sure." There was a brief pause, and then a murmured, "I'm sorry."

He knew it was wrong, but he had to try. "There is nothing I can do to counter such an accusation," he said softly, turning around. Her hair gleamed in the light he stood in the shadows of, and her eyes sparkled in the dimness. "But I can not pretend I am whole without you. What would it take to convince you that I mean everything I say?"

She lifted a hand to her face, a quick, impatient gesture, and he realized that it was tears that made her eyes shine so brightly. He longed to step closer and wipe them away, but he was afraid to see her flinch from his touch. "It would take you being willing to leave me and my friends and never come back," she whispered, her voice unsteady as she stared at him.

"And the only way you will know this--"

"Is if you leave," she finished.

Would she push him away if he tried to kiss her? His soul cried out for hers, despairing at the thought of never feeling her near him again, and his body trembled in anticipation of such a loss. *Just that one memory,* he pleaded with his conscience. Something to take with him back into lonely oblivion...

He didn't even remember the single stride that he must have taken to put them so close together, but his hand was on the back of her head, clenching his fingers in her hair as he pressed his mouth to hers. *Why* did his heart beat so for this girl? Why was *she* so special? Why had his heart picked now to care, to come to life with such sudden and breathtaking vehemence?

Why now, why so quickly, was he presented with the one thing that gave his existence meaning, only to have it snatched away? *Am I to know love again only that I may live with the torment of having it denied?*

She melted against him, letting his savage kiss go on and on--he had expected her to pull away the moment he touched her, and now he couldn't think enough to remember what he was supposed to do. Her arms slid around behind his neck, the heat of her body a delicious promise--an empty promise, of a future they could never have.

With an anguished groan, he tore himself away from her and strode rapidly into the darkness, letting the night envelop him even as his cloak settled about his frame. He was invisible before she could see the teleportation that carried him away.


4. Believe

"Do I know you?" Her brown eyes sparkled at him, strands of hair drifting gently around her face as the cool afternoon breeze played between them.

"Not as such," he admitted wistfully. *Go,* he reminded himself.

She was there when he turned, staring intently into his expression. "Why did you come?" she demanded. "What do you want from me?"

"I--I don't know," he stammered, caught by her hypnotic gaze.

"Yes you do," she insisted. "You wouldn't still be here if you didn't know. What do you want from me, Saryn of Elisia?"

He turned abruptly and tried to walk away again. But again she was there, hands on her hips as she glared up at him. "Tell me what you want, Saryn."

*I don't know!* he thought, staring down at the ground.

"That's not good enough," she told him, cupping his chin in her hand and forcing him to look up. "What do you want?"

Her eyes drew him in, reflecting all his own questions back at him. She wasn't just a Power Ranger. She was some sort of kindred spirit, as desperate for answers as he was--would she understand if he told her?

She wouldn't let him go if he didn't, that much was certain.

"Peace," he whispered, watching her face for some sign of comprehension.

The light brightened, and he looked up instinctively. "The stars are out today," he heard her murmur from beside him.

"They look like this from my world, too." He remembered watching the daytime stars shine through the glow of dawn, and he tried to remember if he had ever introduced her to his sister. They would get along so well...

"I have to go," she said suddenly.

He reached out to stop her, but the breeze swirled around them and she was gone.

He turned, lost in the evening's darkness, and from somewhere far away he heard her laugh. He started toward the sound, trying not to see the unfamiliar constellations of the heavens above, trying to ignore the alien coolness of the air.

"It won't go away, you know," she said. She was pacing him, hands in her pockets as she stared off into the distance. "I'll always be different."

"I don't care," he pleaded, turning toward her. "I am just as alien, to you. If you can accept me, I can accept you."

She smiled. "I'm not what you're looking for."

"But you're what I need..."

There was a barely audible whisper of air behind him, and he whirled. Through the shadows, he saw her walking toward him across the site of the afternoon's battle. Pausing in front of him, she regarded him curiously. "My name's Cassie," she offered, tilting her head to one side. "Do I know you?"

He reached out slowly, not convinced he wasn't dreaming. "Cassie?" he asked softly, brushing her hair away from her face. "Cassie Chan?"

When she smiled, he went to pull her into a hug--

And jerked awake with a gasp, banging his hand on the comm console as he straightened. The shadows faded before his wide-eyed gaze, and he stared in total noncomprehension as sunlight streamed through the forward canopy.

His fighter had been idle for some time, if the standby readouts were anything to go by. He must have fallen asleep--and he was unmorphed. Why? He didn't have time for this; the Defense would be expecting him.

*Earth.* The coordinates on the nav display suddenly registered, and the events of the day before came crashing back. "No," he whispered, sinking back where he sat and staring blankly at the console in front of him. "What have I done?"

He shouldn't have come. No matter what his friend had asked, he should have listened to the instinct that warned him this planet was trouble. He should have known better than to get involved in a fight the planet's Rangers already had well under control.

*Show off,* he thought, irritated with himself. He hadn't been able to resist. The bank robbery had been an accident--he couldn't let it happen right in front of him--but then the Pink Ranger had arrived...

He sighed. He had known they would show up at the mine. He had waited for them that time, had watched her and her friends split up, and he had seen her turn toward him as though she could feel his eyes on her. He had ducked out of sight--and she had found him anyway.

What had made him wait? What had made him *return*? And what, in the name of everything good, had made him promise to find her again that night?

"He could be anyone..."

Her sister was right. *She* could be anyone. Why had his heart latched on to her, of all people, to--to idolize? He sighed again, trying to be annoyed with himself, to be annoyed with *her* for making him feel this way.

He couldn't be, of course. His heart was as stubbornly unreasonable as ever, and once convinced of something it would permit no argument. As far as it was concerned, she was beyond all reproach, and he couldn't bring himself to disagree.

*Don't,* he told himself sternly, feeling his hand twitch. *Don't do it.*

But he wanted to, more than anything. He wanted to wrap his fingers around his ruby and will himself to her side, wanted to hear her voice say his name again, and wanted, most of all, to hold her in his arms once more.

*Go.* He stared down at the nav console. "Go," he repeated aloud. "You *have* to go."

She didn't want him here. Her sister had made sure she would never trust him again, and he couldn't bear to see that wariness in her eyes. There was nothing to keep him here now--the responsibilities of friendship had been fulfilled, for these Rangers were obviously able to take care of themselves, and the one thing he needed more than anything was forever beyond his reach. Why stay and torment himself with it?

His leave time was not entirely his own, after all. He had other promises to keep, other people waiting for him while he sat here and tried to convince himself to leave this isolated little planet. Mirine was expecting him.

He closed his eyes in dismay. How would he ever explain this to Mirine? She would know as soon as he arrived that things had changed, and she would demand an explanation.

A strident beep drew his attention, and he watched the scanner readout fluctuate under a sudden barrage of evil energy. Divatox again, no doubt. He wondered what she was trying to rob today.

*Go,* he told himself. The Rangers would handle it, as they always did. His presence would only complicate matters, especially after last night.

He sat forward reluctantly, feeling his muscles complain as he reached for the nav controls. He should stretch... *What I really should do is not fall asleep in here while I'm not going anywhere,* he thought ruefully. Now he was faced with transit time and nothing to do but think of her.

He meant to take the navcomp off standby and set it to work on an offplanet vector, but his hand strayed to the scanners instead. He found himself calling up the location of the Turbo Power signatures, watching as the Pink and Yellow Rangers were joined by their friends, and he suppressed a sigh as they all teleported to their command center.

*Mirine,* he reminded himself firmly. It was time to leave.

The navcomp powered up, humming softly as he entered Eltare's coordinates from memory. He gazed down at the display, watching it work and trying not to think about anything else.

It finally chimed in readiness, and he gave the scanner readout one last glance. The Turbo team's Power signatures were surrounded by shadowy dots representing pirahnatrons, and he wished briefly that he could see her fight one last time. *So graceful...*

"Stop it," he growled, embarrassed to be so completely taken in by a girl he had only just met. There was neither time nor trust between them, and he had always thought both were necessary for love.

Was this not love, then? If it was only infatuation, he at least had some hope--he would get over it in time, and life would go on. One day he might even forget her.

He frowned at the display, watching the pink spark on the scanners move farther and farther from her teammates. *Voluntary action?* he wondered. *Or--captive?*

That thought he couldn't stand, and the cockpit of his fighter disappeared from around him. He had the presence of mind to morph before he arrived at their coordinates, but he didn't remember to make himself invisible until he caught sight of the Yellow Ranger. No need to make them more suspicious than they already were.

Her sister was down the beach, and his heart twisted at the sight. Outnumbered and overwhelmed by pirahnatrons, she was clearly in need of help. But her friends seemed completely occupied by a group they should have been able to handle without difficulty.

His eyes narrowed as he watched their jerky and uncoordinated movements. It was almost as if they couldn't *see* the pirahnatrons they were fighting--couldn't see the punches coming, couldn't see even where their enemies were.

He saw her go down, and he took an involuntary step forward. His gaze darted back to her friends, but they were in no condition to help her.

"It would take you leaving, and never coming back." Her words rang in his ears again, and his fists clenched. No matter what she thought of him, he *couldn't* let her be hurt.

Her friends were between her and him, and he threw himself into their fight only because he had to go through them to get to her. She still hadn't gotten to her feet again, and fear gave him the speed he needed. Within moments he was at her side, pulling pirahnatrons off of her and disabling them with unnecessary violence.

*Cassie,* he pleaded wordlessly, gazing down at her crumpled form. She moved before he could complete the thought, and he offered her his hand without thinking.

To his surprise, she took it, tilting her head to look up at him.

He swallowed. He had to ask. "Are you all right?"

"Now I am," she said breathlessly, and he pulled her to her feet without another word. She didn't sound upset... but it could just be the stress of battle, and the relief of rescue. He dropped her hand before he gave in to the almost overwhelming urge to put his arms around her, to reassure himself that she had not been hurt.

"Who *are* you?" she asked quietly, as he walked away.

He didn't pause, but the question made him wince. *I told you,* he thought, letting his cloak slide back into place. He heard her friends gather around her, asking her if she was all right, but he could feel her eyes following his invisible form down the beach. *Why won't you believe me?*


5. Sunset Glow

She was gathering up her things from the Youth Center when she heard her friend's voice calling to her. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then, slinging her bag over her shoulder, she put on her brightest smile and turned around. "Hey, Ash."

"Hi," Ashley said, but her answering smile faded as she came closer, and she glanced over her shoulder. "Listen, can I talk to you for a second?"

"If it's about the green hair," Cassie began lightly, and Ashley rolled her eyes.

"It isn't. But I still can't picture you with green hair."

"Actually--" Hoping to distract her friend, she was fully prepared to continue the discussion that Translucidor had interrupted earlier.

"Cass, I want to apologize for last night." Her friend's words stopped her cold, and she, too, looked over her shoulder.

"What about it?" she asked warily.

"Well..." Ashley looked down at her hands, weaving her fingers together and then pulling them apart just as quickly. "The Phantom Ranger was a big help today. I mean, without him, those quantrons at the beach would have beaten us for sure."

As uncomfortable as she looked, she had the presence of mind to keep her voice quiet. Cassie adjusted the shoulder strap of her backpack, trying to figure out how to respond to that. "Yeah," she said at last. "It's a good thing he stuck around."

Ashley nodded emphatically. "He really helped us against Translucidor, too. I mean, if that monster had gotten all of us, that would have been it for the team."

Cassie waited, not wanting to be too enthusiastic in his defense. Every time she had seen him she had felt his yearning to stay and talk, and she had tried, repeatedly, to make him give in to it. But he had kept his word, vanishing as soon as the immediate threat had passed, and she didn't want to give Ashley any reason to forget that and bring up her earlier suspicions again.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is that I think I was wrong about him," Ashley said finally. "I mean, he didn't have to hang around. You said he overheard me last night, and if he was still willing to help after that... well, that was pretty great of him."

Cassie managed a small smile. "Yeah, it was." She said nothing else, but all she could think was that she wished they had had some way of *knowing*. If he really was on their side--and it was looking more and more like he had told them the truth--then what she had said the night before had been unforgivable. It was no wonder he had ignored her today.

"So come on," Ashley said cheerfully, grabbing her arm and steering her back to her chair. She clearly thought that was all there was to it. "Let's finish our conversation!"

She forced herself to laugh, but guy-watching was the last thing on her mind right now. *I wish there was some way to talk to him again,* she thought wistfully. She had had her chance, and she had blown it. Any conversation they had now would be team-related, probably along the lines of, "Bad guy that way. Run!" or "Evil plan foiled. Later."

Did he even say things like "later"? He had kind of a funny way of talking, she mused, sitting down absently and letting her bookbag slide to the floor again. Where had he learned English? Had he been to Earth before? How old was he, anyway?

"Earth to Cassie," Ashley was saying, waving a hand in front of her face.

"What?" She drew back, surprised and a little chagrinned at the knowing smile on her friend's face. "Oh, sorry. I was just... thinking."

"I bet," Ashley agreed with a grin. "Tall, dark, mysterious--" she rattled off the words Cassie had used earlier with smug ease. "Can I take a guess at who *you* like?"

She seemed perfectly willing to forget that she had cautioned Cassie against just such a relationship the night before. But Ashley was irrepressible when it came to teasing, and Cassie knew that if she said anything her friend would just wave it away as though it were nothing.

She tried to pretend the words were the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard, but the truth was that there was nothing she wanted more. When Ashley's grin didn't fade, she knew she wasn't being very convincing, and she couldn't help the feeling of hopelessness that swept over her. So what if he really was a good guy? He would never speak to her again...

It was dinner by the time they finally got home, and she struggled to maintain her pretense of cheerfulness just a little longer. Ashley's mother was feeling unusually talkative, which eased the burden of conversation, but she had to keep reminding herself to smile. She did her best not to dwell on thoughts of him, for she knew the more she thought about it the more impossible everything would seem, but the meal seemed to drag unbearably nonetheless.

At last, Ashley scooped her silverware onto her plate and leapt to her feet, downing the last of her water in one gulp. "I have to go," she said, as though it wasn't obvious from her behavior. "I promised Carlos we'd study together tonight," she added over her shoulder as she carried her glass and plate over to the dishwasher.

"Have a good time," her mother said with a fond smile.

"Be home by ten," her father added, and Ashley rolled her eyes.

"I know, I know! Trig isn't *that* fun, Dad; don't worry."

"It isn't your math skills I'm worried about," Joseph Hammond told her, his eyes twinkling as she bounced across the kitchen. "And why are you going to change if it's just a study date?"

"It's not a date!" Ashley called, vanishing into her bedroom down the hall. "And I'm changing because I look terrible; that's why. It's not for Carlos. I wouldn't even want to be seen on the streets like this!"

"Interesting that this only came up now, after a whole day at school--and the Youth Center--dressed in those same clothes," he commented, winking at Cassie.

"I heard that!" Ashley called, and Cassie tried to smile.

Finally, the whirlwind that was Ashley flew out the front door, and Cassie stood up slowly. *Don't think,* she reminded herself, putting a small smile on her face as she took her own dishes over to the dishwasher. "Small" seemed to be all she was capable of in terms of smiling now.

"Do you have plans tonight, Cassie?" Ashley's mother asked, going over to the stove to heat water for tea and coffee.

She shook her head politely. "No; I'm studying by myself tonight."

Her friend's father chuckled. "Good for you. Remember, if you need any help with chemistry--"

"Don't ask him," his wife put in, setting the teakettle on a front burner.

"Right," Cassie said, tilting her head just enough so that her hair hid her face as she closed the dishwasher. She thought her tone sounded appropriately amused, but her expression wasn't cooperating anymore.

As the dishwasher clicked shut, she was already turning toward the hallway that led out of the combined kitchen and dining room area. Behind her, she heard Joseph Hammond protesting good-naturedly that his chemistry knowledge was very complete, but she just needed to get out of the kitchen.

The study had been converted into a guest bedroom for her less than a month ago, and she stepped inside with a feeling of some relief. Quietly, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, staring without seeing at the dim light of dusk coming through her windows. *Don't think,* she told herself again--but it wasn't working. She couldn't help thinking, couldn't stop the replay in her mind that was sounding louder than ever in the sudden silence.

"What would it take to convince you that I mean everything I say?"

"It would take you being willing to leave me and my friends... and never come back."

"And the only way you will know this--"

"Is if you leave."

"Are you all right?"

"I am now..."

"You saved us again--won't you tell us who you are?"

"The Phantom Ranger was a big help today. I mean, without him, those quantrons at the beach would have beaten us for sure."

"Yeah... it's a good thing he stuck around."

"You said he overheard me last night, and if he was still willing to help after that--well, that was pretty great of him."

She squeezed her eyes shut. This was silly. What was she upset about? So she had been rude. She hadn't known, and he must understand what it was like...

But he had bared his soul to her. He had told her everything she wanted to hear, and he had put all his faith in her and her alone. To have someone turn their back on you after something like that was heart-wrenching in a way she knew all too well.

*It's better this way,* she told herself. She didn't even know him--maybe he had deserved it. Her heart fought vehemently against that idea, but the truth was that she knew nothing about him. Everything he said could have been a lie, and she would be none the wiser. Better to have pushed him away when she still had the strength, than to find herself still trusting him when he finally tired of Earth and went back to wherever he had come from.

She sighed, opening her eyes and pushing away from the wall. It was better this way. She'd be proud of herself when they learned more about him. She'd be glad for what she'd done when he left. She wouldn't miss his sapphire eyes or careful speech or shy courtesy in the slightest.

Kneeling on her futon, she rested her arms on the windowsill and gazed out at the neatly arranged shrubs adorning the backyard. Fireflies were starting to flicker in their shadows; a long, slow shimmer of light that even her restless eyes could follow. She drew in a deep breath as the hint of a breeze stirred past her window, and suddenly she couldn't stand it any longer.

Flipping up the metal tabs on the bottom of her window, she gave it an impatient push. She held onto the sides as it came loose, and the whole screen tilted outward. Turning it on its side, she drew it back through the window and set it against the end of her futon. She climbed through the window and dropped to the ground, careful not to bump against the side of the house as she landed.

The breeze was long gone, now, if it had ever really been there, but the stillness of the yard was almost comforting. Its peace didn't touch her, but at least it didn't care. It was indifferent to the despair in her heart, but it didn't mock what she was feeling either.

She wandered aimlessly toward one of the ornamental shrubs, watching the fireflies glide lazily above the grass. There were times when she could just stare at the lightning bugs--a sort of natural screensaver that numbed her thoughts and let her relax a little. Her eye was drawn to them, as always, but she already knew that tonight wasn't going to be one of those times.

"I hate the world today," she murmured involuntarily, straining to remember the rest of the words. She couldn't do it, no matter how many times Ashley recited them for her, and her friend loved to tease her for it. "How can you remember the words to so many songs, and not the second line of--" Her mind drew a blank on the title, too, and she sighed. *I guess it doesn't matter that much. The first line is the only one I need to know.*

"I hate the world today," she repeated, getting the smallest amount of satisfaction from the statement. She sank to the ground, pulling her legs into a cross-legged position and propping her elbow on one knee. She put her chin on her fist with a quiet sigh.

She was following the path of a single firefly, trailing it dejectedly with her eyes as it cruised away from her--when it just wasn't anymore. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. She wasn't going to cry. Crying never solved anything.

She kept watching the route the firefly had taken, but it was lost to her sight. She waited for it to blink back on and give itself away, somehow determined to conquer this one challenge, no matter how insignificant.

The air in front of her wavered, and she lifted her hand to rub at her eyes irritably. As the wavering air became suddenly solid, though, she froze. Hand halfway to her face, she lifted her head, almost afraid of what she would see.

He knelt before her, cupped hands held out in front of him. Her eyes touched his for an instant before he looked down, his too-long hair falling in his face. She followed his gaze, catching her breath as he opened his hands and gently released the firefly she had been searching for.


6. From Here On

She followed its steady, luminescent glow as the firefly drifted into the air, its dark wings a blur in the evening light even as its body shone brightly against the shadows. It faded then, leaving only the impression of its presence... so like someone else she knew.

Her eyes were drawn, almost involuntarily, back toward him. He had freed the firefly, but he still held her heart in his hands. Could he have any idea of his power over her?

"I... am sorry to intrude," he whispered, staring back at her. "I should not have come, I know--but I could not watch you cry. Forgive me."

She swallowed hard, feeling something tickle her cheek. She reached up to brush it away, embarrassed to realize that she *was* crying, no matter her efforts to the contrary. "I forgive you," she said softly, hearing her voice tremble but unable to stay silent when he was so obviously waiting on her reply.

He nodded, as though that was all he really needed, and he got to his feet. He was going to leave, she realized suddenly. She couldn't let that happen again. "Wait," she said, sniffing as she scrambled to stand up. "Please don't go!"

He stopped where he stood, watching her with a wary expression as she tried to gather herself. "I'm--" She knew they shouldn't be having this conversation in the backyard, where either of Ashley's parents might glance out and see them, but the words were too important. They tumbled out before she could come up with anything else. "I'm so sorry about last night; that was my fault and I wish I hadn't said anything. You were so wonderful and I guess I just have a hard time trusting that sometimes... please, I know I don't deserve it but I wish you'd give me another chance."

She broke off only to catch her breath, and then found she couldn't start again. There was nothing else she could say in her defense. She couldn't think right around him under the best of circumstances, and his intense regard stifled any attempt she might have made at further explanation. She could only wait, nervous and more than a little scared, for his answer.

"Do you think I'm evil?" he asked at last, his voice quiet. His gaze didn't waver from hers.

"No!" She clapped her hand over her mouth immediately, closing her eyes for a moment. *Please don't let anyone have heard that...*

"Do you wish to go somewhere else?" he offered softly.

She nodded emphatically, keeping her eyes shut tight as though she could keep the world out by refusing to look at it.

"I have to touch you," he whispered, and she nodded again. She felt his hand brush against her shoulder, fingers just barely resting on her skin as her entire world went light with the glow of teleportation. It was an odd color, but even as she registered that it faded, leaving her to puzzle over the fleeting memory.

"We are... somewhere else," he said hesitantly, when she didn't move.

With a sigh, she opened her eyes. She took an involuntary step back from the rock ledge she found herself standing in front of, and she turned her wide-eyed gaze on him without thinking. He was clearly waiting for her reaction, studying her as her gaze flicked past him to land on the ship she had thought destroyed only the day before.

Nestled in a largish stone cave on the slopes of the very hills that hid the Power Chamber, she could only stare. How had he ever gotten it in here? Storm Blaster might have been able to do it, if he flew without Justin's guidance, but a non-sentient starfighter? "You're... you're a really good pilot," she murmured, glancing over her shoulder again.

The cliffs fell away with startling suddenness, unscalable from where they were without equipment, and it was driven home to her just how isolated they were here. She reached for her morpher, reassuring herself that it was still there. She could teleport out of here if she had to.

"I apologize," he said abruptly, seeing the motion. "This was not a good choice; I should have taken you somewhere less remote--"

"No!" She turned back to him at that, hearing the doubt in his voice. "This is beautiful..." And it was secret, she realized, as the ship behind him caught her eye again. That was all it took to make her see what he had done. "Thank you for trusting me... I won't tell anyone where it is; I promise."

His lips curved a little, but his gaze didn't waver from hers. There was something different about it this time, and she stared into his blue eyes, trying to figure out what it was. She caught her breath as she realized, "You smiled!"

The smile widened incrementally, and this time she would have sworn it touched his eyes. "Did I?"

"You are," she said, delighted. She took a step closer. "You never did before."

"Perhaps I never had reason to," he murmured, and she looked down.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could take back everything I said, somehow."

"It is all right," he said, and she could feel him watching her. "You were right to be suspicious."

"But I wasn't suspicious!" she protested, lifting her head to return his gaze. "Don't you see, that's why what Ashley said made sense. I don't trust people like that, and people just don't... *like* me right away. Not like that. She was right; it should have been a trick."

"It isn't a trick," he said softly.

She sighed. "I--I know. I don't know why, and I don't understand it at all, but when you left last night... it was one of the worst feelings I've ever had."

His wistful expression said that he understood. "I did not enjoy it any more than you," he whispered. "Before I was even gone, I wanted you back. And--" It was his turn to look away, out at the sunlight, avoiding her gaze. "I am sorry," he mumbled, almost inaudibly. "I'm sorry for the way I kissed you."

She tried her best to repress a smile, charmed by his embarrassment. That kiss had kept her awake most of the night. She couldn't help but wonder if she could make him do it again. "I liked it," she whispered, taking another step toward him.

"Don't," he warned, his eyes snapping back towards her.

She froze. "Don't what?"

"Don't kiss me," he said slowly, searching her expression. "Was that your intent?"

"Maybe," she admitted, embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"Do not apologize," he murmured. "It is my fault. But if you kiss me... I don't know what might happen."

"It isn't your fault," she said, reacting instinctively to the self-recrimination in his voice. "What are you talking about?"

He just looked at her. For the longest time, he didn't answer, and she became acutely aware of the seconds ticking by. She tried not to blink, found it impossible, and had to fight not to look away. She returned his stare, not sure what else to say.

"What do you think of me?" he asked at last, so suddenly it startled her.

She swallowed, no more sure of herself than she had been before. "I..." She wanted to say it, but found it so much harder than it had seemed when he had done it the day before. But he *had* done it, she reminded herself fiercely. Saying nothing wouldn't get her out of this; she had to do it all the way or not at all. "I love you," she said, lifting her chin. "I don't know why, but I trust you. I *don't* think you're evil. I... I hope you can forgive me for last night."

"Of course," he said, as though it were a given. "Your sister was right to worry. I am glad she looks out for you."

That gave her pause. "My--sister?"

"The Yellow Ranger," he prompted. "Or so I assumed..."

"Ashley," she said, smiling a little. "She is the Yellow Ranger, but she isn't my sister."

"Ashley," he repeated carefully.

"Ashley Hammond," she added.

He sighed. "You *all* have two names?"

She couldn't help giggling at his dismay. "They're... family names. The second one--'Chan' is mine, and 'Hammond' is Ashley's. They show who we're related to."

"So..." he frowned. "You are not related because the names are not similar?"

"Well... if we were related, they'd be the same." She hesitated, wondering whether to confuse him more by adding, "Usually."

He seemed to consider that. "Among my people, the similarity of the name is the only indication of blood relationship. But... you and--Ashley are not related?"

She shook her head. "She's my best friend, but my parents live somewhere else."

"Why?" He looked away quickly. "I'm sorry. I do not mean to be rude."

"You're not! It's okay," she assured him. "But--it's kind of a long story."

"I wish to hear it," he said quietly, looking back at her.

"Well..." She tried to think of some way to explain. "I like to sing. My mom's sister is a singer, too, and she was going to--help me out a little. I left my parents to go live with her, but on the way one of the Power Rangers asked me to take her place... and I said yes. Ashley's parents let me move in with them, and I've been living with her for the last month or so."

"Do you--enjoy it?"

She nodded emphatically. "I like living here better than living with my parents," she confessed. "It's harder, but... I'm glad all this happened."

"All of it?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she murmured, keeping her voice just as quiet and no less serious. "*All* of it." When he didn't answer, she added, "What about you? Where's your family?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. "My sister is on Eltare," he said, closing his fingers on a pendant that hadn't been there a moment before. "She is all I have."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, startled. "I didn't know."

"No," he agreed, opening his eyes again. "You could not have; do not apologize. It is--kind of you to ask."

She sighed quietly. "It doesn't feel that way. I'm really sorry." She was dying to ask how long he had been so alone, and how it had happened, and a dozen other questions that she had to bite back so she wouldn't upset him any more than she already had.

"I'm not," he insisted gently, and he reached out to stroke her cheek before she even realized what he was doing. "I am pleased that you care."

"Can you... tell me about your sister?" she couldn't help asking. "Do you see her often?"

"Whenever I can," he answered. "We share a home, but my duty often keeps me away longer than I would wish."

Her eyes were drawn to his starfighter again, and she asked the question her heart wanted so much to avoid. "Why are you here, then?" His fingers slid into her hair as she turned her head, but he didn't draw back.

"Why did I come, or why did I stay?" he asked softly. "They're two different questions."

She swallowed. "Both?"

"I came because a friend asked me to," he answered. "A former Earth Ranger asked me to see how your team was faring. But it was clear as soon as I arrived that you had no need of assistance. I stayed because of you."

*A former Earth Ranger...* She couldn't imagine whom he was talking about, but it was overshadowed by his last words. Not to mention the feel of his hand on her bare shoulder as he finally stopped playing with her hair and let his hand fall to her arm. "You stayed for me?"

"I would have stayed for you if I thought you wished it," he confessed. "Instead I stayed for me, because I could not bear to be separated from you so soon."

She hesitated only a moment, remembering his insistence that she not kiss him. But the lonely look on his face was more than she could stand, and he still had not let go of her. She took a single step closer, putting her arms around him and turning to rest her head against his chest before she could see his expression. "Thank you," she whispered.

His fingers tightened momentarily on her shoulder, then relaxed as he wrapped his arms around her in return. "Thank you for giving me another chance," he murmured.

She closed her eyes, breathing deep to take in as much of him as possible. "I was going to say the same thing," she answered quietly. "Maybe... we could start over?"

"No," he said, with such certainty that she almost looked up. Only his tight embrace kept her from pulling back to see his face. "I would not give up any of this time with you, no matter how painful it has been. Please... I wish only to go on from here."

She swallowed hard at the imploring tone of his voice. He had taken her far too literally, but who was she to deny such a wish? "All right," she agreed, hugging him harder. "We'll go from here."

She felt his warm breath on her hair as he breathed out in relief. "Here, now, is all I want."


7. Knowing You

She laughed, squirming in the pilot's seat as she tried to get comfortable. "You fly like this?" she asked, tugging at the webbing he had fastened across her body. Her shoulders shifted beneath his hands, and the sound of her delight almost made him smile again.

"It is adjusted for someone rather taller than you," he pointed out. He leaned forward to release her from the safety harness, not at all averse to the idea of putting his arms around her again.

"Starship seatbelts," Cassie said, her tone full of amusement. "But why? What are you going to hit out in space? There's nothing there!"

He tried not to take too deep a breath, inhaling the soft scent of her hair as his fingers worked the catches on the harness. She shifted, trying to help him, and he couldn't avoid noticing how thin her flower-patterned shirt really was. "It's not meant to cushion impact," he answered, pulling the webbing free at last. "It is meant to restrain an unconscious pilot in the weightlessness of space."

She twisted in the chair, craning her neck to look up at him with wide eyes. "You sleep in this?"

He settled his hands on her shoulders once more, nodding once. That hadn't been exactly what he meant, but her naivete was too charming to disillusion. "On occasion."

Cassie frowned at him, though the half-smile that lingered on her face told him not to take the expression too seriously. "That isn't what you meant, is it. You meant in battle."

He looked at her in surprise, squeezing her shoulders instinctively. "Yes. How did you know?"

"I don't know," she said, wiggling a little farther back in the chair as though she could get closer to him that way. "Something in your face, I guess. Hey," she added, diverted by something on the console in front of her. "What does this do?"

He spared only a glance for the button she indicated, far more interested in looking at her than the familiar interior of his starfighter cockpit. "Push it and find out," he suggested. One of his hands strayed to her hair, and she didn't so much as twitch when he started to stroke it lightly, tentatively.

She pushed the button without hesitation, and the starfield sprang up in front of her. His heart skipped a beat as she gasped, taken aback by the holographic wraparound as it displayed her planet's "night" sky. The image drifted slowly, almost imperceptibly, as Earth's motion subtly realigned the computer's perspective.

"That's awesome," she whispered, entranced by the image. She reached out carefully, not making a sound as her hand passed straight through the simulated stars. Her skin seemed to glow, reflecting projected light and shadow wherever she interrupted the hologram.

He couldn't resist. Reaching around her with his free hand, he leaned far enough forward that he could almost touch her fingers with his. She turned her hand toward his, pressing their palms together and letting him slide his fingers between hers as he clasped her hand. Her head rested against his as he leaned over her shoulder, and he felt her sigh without a sound. "Thank you for showing me this," she said softly.

He closed his eyes, reveling in the sound of her voice. "Thank you for asking," he whispered honestly. Their hands came to rest against the console, and he opened his eyes again as he felt Cassie's hand slide out of his.

She leaned forward a little, her fingers wandering idly across the control panel, and she admitted, "I'm really curious... but I didn't ask because I wanted to know about your starfighter."

"No?" He braced his hand against the console, trying to get more comfortable without straightening up. There was probably no safer way to hold her than this, with the chair between them and her attention elsewhere, and he didn't want to move away.

"No," she echoed. She paused in her exploration of the console and lifted her other hand to his arm. His skin tingled as she ran her fingers over the sleeve of his tunic, tracing the muscles in his arm with the same idle curiosity that had led her to outline the console with her fingertips. "I asked because I wanted to know about you."

"And..." He found her action almost impossible to ignore, and he realized suddenly that his knuckles were white on the forward console. He tried to force himself to relax, smoothing her hair distractedly. "Have you learned anything?"

She giggled. Twisting around in a chair meant for a larger frame, she seemed about to say something when a soft hum made her eyes widen. She glanced guiltily back at the console, pulling her hand away from it as she did so. "Did I--"

The coordinate reader flickered to life, and he hid his amusement. The navcomp was that sensitive; she must have trailed her fingers across it without noticing. "The navigation computer is coming off standby," he said, pointing it out to her. "It is nothing to worry about."

Her attention caught, she seemed to forget his earlier question. "What do the numbers mean?"

"Those are Earth's coordinates, relative to the center of the local galactic group." He leaned closer again to tap the display. "Any location can be described by those six numbers--Eltare, for example, is here."

She caught her breath as the starfield shifted abruptly, reflecting the navcomp's input. "You did that from memory?" she asked, staring at the unfamiliar patterns in front of her.

He felt his lips twitch, almost smiling at her amazement. "I live there," he reminded her gently. He had to straighten up then, too uncomfortable to lean over her shoulder for much longer. "Is it so surprising?"

"No," she said quickly. "I just--I wouldn't be able to remember it."

"It is not precise," he told her, brushing her hair back over her shoulders. "Eltare's location changes from minute to minute the same way your Earth's does. This is only an approximation I have committed to memory. The vector will be recalculated when my starfighter comes out of hyperrush."

"Hyperrush," she repeated, still staring at the console. "Is that like--lightspeed?"

He hesitated, waiting until he was sure he could answer with no hint of amusement in his voice. "It is considerably faster than lightspeed. Were you traveling at the speed of light, it would take almost two million of your years to reach Eltare."

"Oh." She didn't say anything for a moment. Then, at last, "That's a long way."

His grip on her shoulders tightened a little, and he said quietly, "Not so far. It is only a matter of perspective."

She seemed to steel herself, tensing slightly in the pilot's seat. "How long did it take you to get here?"

"I was farther from you than Eltare is now two days ago," he told her, rubbing her upper arms gently. "Truly, Cassie, it is not so great a distance as you seem to think."

She sighed, leaning back in his chair and tilting her head back to look up at him. "It *feels* like a great distance."

"It is not," he insisted, gazing into her eyes. "My starfighter makes similar journeys more often than you could imagine. Perhaps... someday you might come with me, and see for yourself."

A smile crept across her face, reassuring him that it had not been the wrong thing to say. "I'd like that."

"As would I." Her upturned face was an invitation he had trouble resisting, especially in light of her words. He looked away before he could give in to it, reaching for the console to their left. Punching in an activation code, he said, "Earth date..."

He trailed off as she shifted to watch, realizing he had no idea how her people divided the years. "What is today?"

"What?" She gave him a puzzled look.

"By your calendar," he said patiently. "What is today?"

"It's--" She blinked, having to think about it. "It's Monday. The twentieth of September."

"Earth date," he repeated. "Monday the twentieth of September. Cassie has said that she will one day accompany me to Eltare, a promise I intend to hold her to."

She laughed delightedly, looking up at him. "What is that?"

"My flight recorder," he told her, not bothering to turn it off. "It records all day-to-day communications and--conflicts."

"Battles, you mean." She frowned the slightest bit. "You fight a lot, don't you."

"Do you not?" he countered.

She lowered her gaze, but he thought he saw color tinge her cheeks. "I guess," she murmured. "Sorry."

"Do not be sorry," he said softly. He reached out to touch her chin, running his fingers gently across her skin. "Just be careful. I worry for you already, and I have only had to watch you fight twice."

She looked up again, her dark eyes searching his expression. "It's the times I'm *not* watching you fight that worry me. I have my teammates... how do you do it, alone?"

He couldn't answer, and she seemed to realize that immediately. "I'm sorry," she said, distress obvious in her voice. "I didn't ask that. Don't listen to me, just..." She swallowed. "Just be careful."

It was all he could do to nod, knowing that anything more would bring him frighteningly close to telling her the truth, and he couldn't handle that. It was buried too deep, and to bring the memories any closer to the surface would tear him apart.

He didn't know what she was reading into his expression, but her eyes were wide with unspoken worry. "Hey..." She glanced over at the flight recorder, clearly trying to distract him. "That isn't still recording, is it?"

He nodded again. "It--" He cleared his throat, dismayed that such a simple question had done this to him. "It is, yes."

She shook her head, trying to look amused despite the concern still evident on her face. "You're going to erase it though, right?"

He took a deep breath, letting her idle conversation slowly soothe away the ache that threatened to overwhelm him. "Why?"

She gave him a baffled look. "Why wouldn't you? It's not exactly a battle record."

"No," he agreed, finding his fingers tangled in her hair again. He tried to brush it back, as he had done before, but found he couldn't let go long enough to do it. "It's more important. It's you."

She giggled a little, as though she wasn't sure whether to take him seriously or not. "You're going to make me self-conscious. I should have prepared a speech."

He knew she was teasing, but he shrugged. "Tell a story," he suggested softly.

She grinned, clearly convinced that he was joking this time. "Once upon a time," she began anyway, "there was a brave warrior who flew in on a starship to see the world. But instead he met a beautiful girl..."

She trailed off, her eyes inviting him to share her humor. His mouth curved involuntarily, and by the charmed look on her face he knew he had smiled. "Go on," he murmured, starting to relax.

She laughed, without the nervousness this time, and she added, "And the girl fell in love the moment she saw him, and is now making a fool of herself talking to his flight recorder. The end."

His arm slid around her shoulders, and he leaned down to kiss her gently. Her eyes fluttered closed and he kissed her again, just as tentatively. "I think you forgot part of the story," he whispered, her breath warm on his skin.

"And they lived happily ever after," she murmured obediently.

He smiled of his own accord this time. "Yes," he agreed, cupping her chin in his hand. "That's the part I meant."

She blinked suddenly, staring directly into his eyes. "Wait... how did you--"

He pressed his lips to hers, hungry for a kiss that would do more than just bring them into contact with each other. Her mouth was already open and he took full advantage of it, leaning into her and forgetting restraint as her hands clutched at his tunic, keeping him close. He let himself get lost in the sensation, knowing the cramped quarters of the cockpit would keep him from giving in to the fire in his veins.

But she was more flexible than he was, and she got nearer to him than he would have thought possible. Her warmth pressed against his chest and he felt her arms wind around his neck, driving him crazy with feeling even as her tongue tangled with his. He couldn't think, couldn't focus on anything but the need to not let go.

"Maybe..." Somehow she got the word out, between kisses or by turning her head to whisper against his skin, he wasn't sure. "Maybe we should go outside," she murmured, and he froze.

Or he tried to freeze. It was impossible with her hands roaming across his tunic, almost as if she were looking for a way in, and his breath caught when she suddenly found it. He choked back a moan, shifting restlessly as his belated attempt at control came perilously close to snapping.

"Stop," he muttered hoarsely. "Cassie, no..." He tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go.

"Making out doesn't have to be uncomfortable," she said softly, a hint of amusement in her voice. Her mouth recaptured his with a deep, lingering kiss that made him acutely aware of every feeling he now found himself desperately trying to suppress.

"No!" He pushed her back roughly, shoving her down into the pilot's seat with more force than he had intended. "I'm not 'making out'! You do not understand!"

The startled look on her face said he was right, and he ran a hand through his hair in a futile effort to calm down. He stared around the cockpit, trying to somehow avoid her gaze and failing miserably. "I'm sorry," he muttered, not knowing whether she was more likely to forgive him for making an excuse or for being honest.

"Sorry for what?" she asked tentatively. When he didn't answer, she tried again. Her voice was even more uncertain this time. "What--what's wrong?"

He closed his eyes, folding his arms across his chest as he tried unconsciously to keep his feelings to himself. "I am," he muttered. "When I said I was attracted to you, I wasn't lying. I can't... I can't just kiss you, and I'm sorry. You should probably go." He felt his voice crack on the last word, and he couldn't deny that the last thing in the universe that he wanted was to send her away.

"Please... Saryn--" Her worried tone was enough to make him open his eyes, and she lowered the hand that had been reaching toward him. "There must be something I can do."

"Nothing I would ask of you," he said, very softly. "I'm sorry, Cassie... I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Neither do I," she insisted, her voice gaining strength. "At least tell me why you want me to leave!"

"I don't!" he exclaimed, frustrated. "I want you--" He broke off, realizing that the truth stopped there. "I want you," he repeated, more quietly. "Forgive me."

"Ohh," she whispered finally, her eyes wide. "That's... I--I understand."

"Do you?" he couldn't help asking. He did his best not to sigh. "Maybe it is only the close quarters. I swear to you that I can control this. I will never ask more than you are willing to give."

"I'm not going to tell *you* to leave," she said, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "I've already done that once, and I'm never going to do it again. You don't have to apologize. Just tell me what I should do."

"You're doing it," he said, trying not to sigh. "Thank you for... caring, with so little reservation."

"Loving," she corrected firmly. "I *love* you without reservation." A smile tugged at her lips suddenly. "I can't tell if that sounds sappy or romantic. Maybe both."

He gazed at her, his heart finally slowing enough that he could hear himself think again. "I would ask nothing more than your honesty."

Her smile faded as she stared back at him. "I am being honest. Just because it's sappy doesn't mean it isn't true."

He relaxed a little, bracing his hands on the console behind him and leaning back. "It is true for me as well," he admitted, not taking his eyes off of her. "I am--amazed to think that it is so, but it is."

She laughed, but it wasn't the sound of sheer delight that he had heard before. "Am I that hard to love?" she inquired. Though her tone was light, he sensed more than he knew behind that question.

"No," he answered, immediately and with as much conviction as he could muster. "Loving you is like breathing; there is nothing easier or more natural in the universe. It surprises me only that I found you at all--or that you found me. How much of a coincidence is it that we two, of all the people in the universe, should meet?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. With a slight shake of her head, she offered at last, "Just lucky, I guess." Her words were flippant, but her eyes were too bright to be completely dry.

He smiled, slowly and deliberately, and her face lit up. A single tear escaped as she smiled back at him, and he couldn't resist. He reached out and brushed it away, murmuring, "I've never known anyone as lucky as I am right now."


8. Moon Shadow

The window. She'd always had a thing about windows. It wasn't claustrophobia, exactly. She had no problem with small rooms or enclosed spaces. But windows... She just liked windows. They made her happy.

She didn't like being trapped; maybe that was it. Where there was a window, there was an escape. That was the best thing about backpacking, really. No traps, no forced choices--you could turn and walk in any direction you wanted, for no other reason than that you felt like it.

But there was one direction she had never thought of, and that was straight up. She stared out at the night, watching the stars wink back at the two of them through the hazy veil of the atmosphere. What was it like in space? Would it drive her crazy to be away from the sun and sky? Or... would it be the ultimate freedom?

"Saryn?" she murmured, intending to ask him. But her voice sounded out of place to her ears, and she frowned as she reached out and found him suddenly absent. "Where are you?" she mumbled, rolling over onto her side and realizing abruptly that she was awake.

How could she be awake now when she hadn't been asleep before? And where was he? He was still here; she could feel him, but she couldn't see him. "Saryn?" she repeated, a little louder. The sound of her voice as she lifted her head convinced her that she had indeed been dreaming, but it didn't tell her where he'd gone.

She shook her head, trying to make the dream memories separate themselves from reality. Sometimes it was harder than others. He wasn't here; she had left him with his starfighter hours ago to get some sleep. She had only barely made it back to the Hammonds' by ten, but luckily Ashley had been late and her parents hadn't pressed for details when she told them she'd decided to go study at the Youth Center.

So why was she so convinced that she could still feel Saryn, as she had in her dream, standing next to her by the window?

Resolutely, she pushed herself out of bed and climbed to her feet, tangling her fingers in her hair to hold it away from her face. She couldn't quite suppress a yawn as she stumbled over to the door, and she wrinkled her nose at the thought that she was becoming insomniac as well as paranoid.

Closing her eyes, she flipped the lightswitch on. The darkness behind her eyelids glowed red, and she cracked them open gingerly. Squinting in the brightness, she scanned the room and found nothing out of the ordinary. "Well, duh," she muttered to herself. "What did you expect?"

With a shake of her head, she turned the overhead light off. As the light vanished, though, she was sure she saw one of the shadows move. She snapped the light back on instantly, and her eyes watered a little under the sudden assault.

Nothing.

She frowned, hand hesitating over the lightswitch. "Is someone there?" she asked, feeling silly even as she said it. Of course there was no one there. She was alone in the room; she could see that for herself.

"Saryn?" she asked anyway, remembering the Phantom Ranger's ability to make himself invisible. He wouldn't do that, would he? He wouldn't sneak into her house, into her bedroom, and watch her while she was sleeping. Would he?

No, she decided at last. Because that would just be weird. *Or romantic,* her mind offered, and she rolled her eyes. *No,* she disagreed. *Weird. As in, stalker weird.*

She flicked the lightswitch off again, making her way back to her futon in the semi-darkness. She threw herself down on the mattress and tugged the lightweight comforter up over her shoulders with finality. *Go to sleep,* she told herself firmly.

Of course, it wasn't that easy. She hadn't really thought it could be. As sleepy as she'd been just a few moments ago, she was now wide awake. Isn't that always the way, she thought irritably. It was like waking up thirsty. You couldn't go back to sleep without getting a drink, but by the time you'd gotten a glass of water and made it back to your room, you were too awake to sleep anyway.

*Lose-lose situation,* she decided with a sigh. She pulled the comforter a little closer and put out one hand, fumbling for the one stuffed animal she'd brought with her. Her hand encountered soft fur in the crack between the futon and the wall, and she latched onto the yellow dog's ear and dragged him out. Wrapping her arm around Jetson, she snuggled closer into the pillow and closed her eyes again.

It was a funny thing about closing your eyes, she thought a moment later. You felt like you were still awake, and yet the longer you had them closed the farther you got from consciousness. It was a good way to fall asleep, but it was deceiving... She cracked one eye open, just to see if it was working, and then tried not to smile. Checking was a sure way to make it fail. She closed her eyes again, determined to think about something else.

And opened them wide again almost immediately, sitting straight up in bed. "All right," she said to no one in particular. "It's not funny anymore."

There was no answer from her silent room, though she stared around for several moments, trying to pin down *something* she could point to as the source of this nebulous feeling of not-aloneness. "I swear," she muttered, "between invisible Rangers and Ashley's X-Files theories, I'm going to completely lose my mind."

*If I haven't already,* she added silently, frowning at the darkness. "Saryn," she said aloud. "If this is your fault, I'm going to have to do something drastic to you."

She definitely wasn't alone. She couldn't be; the words had made the room change. It was like... someone turning to look at her. She couldn't describe the feeling any better than that, any more than she could describe where it came from.

She shivered a little. "That *better* be you," she said under her breath. "Because if it isn't, and I'm not losing my mind, then there's someone in this room that I don't know, and I don't really want to think about that."

No. She didn't know where her assurance came from, but that wasn't right. It was either him, or she was crazy. There was no third option--but at this point she wasn't sure whether that was comforting or not.

"Saryn," she said slowly, swinging her legs over the side of her futon. She was suddenly conscious of the fact that she wore only a nightshirt, but if he wasn't going to show himself, then she refused to let herself care. "This isn't exactly fair, you know."

This time she waited a moment, listening for the faint hint of a response that had followed her last two remarks. There was nothing, though, and she felt another flash of doubt. It was possible that she was sitting in her room at... she glanced at the clock.

2:05. She could be sitting in her room at two in the morning, then, talking to no one but herself. Wouldn't that look good if someone decided to get up for a midnight snack and heard her mumbling to herself in the middle of the night.

"Fine," she said aloud. "Don't say anything. But I can't sleep with you here, so I'm just going to keep complaining until you go away."

This time she was sure she felt something, but whether it was an echo of amusement or just a breeze from the open window, she couldn't be sure. "Sure," she grumbled anyway. "You think it's funny. You don't have to get up in four hours. You can sleep all morning if you want to."

That wasn't true, but she didn't know why. She couldn't imagine why he would be on a schedule--he had said he was on vacation, after all. Of course, she supposed, she didn't know for how long. Or even from what... she still knew precious little about him, no matter their spending the entire evening together today.

"You know more about me than I do about you," she said suddenly, not sure whether she should be upset about that or not.

There was the slightest flicker of disagreement, and she frowned. "Yeah, you do. You know... everything. What I do, where I go to school... even how I became a Ranger. You've seen where I live, now. Which is more than I can say for you."

She remembered him offering to take her to Eltare, and she amended, "Well, you did say I could see it. But I still don't *know*, you know?"

*Okay, that sounded stupid,* she thought with a grimace. "You know, you could make this a lot easier by actually participating in the conversation," she muttered under her breath.

Apology.

Without thinking, she exclaimed, "Don't apologize; just let me see you!"

She clenched her toes in the carpet as she realized how loud that had been, and she prayed that everyone in the Hammond household was sleeping soundly tonight. Then the smallest of movements caught her eye and she turned her head involuntarily. She had to stifle a gasp as she saw the Phantom Ranger standing by her window, visor reflecting the starlight as he stared out at the night.

"Well," she managed at last, finding her voice. "I guess that's... half what I meant."

He didn't answer.

So he wasn't going to be anymore talkative now that he was visible than he had been when she couldn't see him. She felt irritation flare within her. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude, but is there a reason that you're standing in my room staring out the window at two in the morning? I was trying to sleep, in case you didn't notice."

He tilted his visor to the side, as though he was trying to study something on the other side of the window more closely. But she got the distinct impression that he had been trying to sleep too--a sort of "me too" feeling that was no more vocal than anything else he had said since she had woken up.

Though she had regretted her waspish remark as soon as it was out, now she couldn't repress a shiver as she realized what he had to be doing. "You're psychic, aren't you," she whispered. "Can you--can you read my mind?"

"No." It was the first thing he had said aloud, and she tried not to start at the sound of his voice. It was flatter and slightly less accented when filtered through his Ranger uniform, as though computer-corrected by some kind of comm system.

"Then how come I can read yours?" she persisted, trying to ignore the phenomenon. "How come I knew what you were thinking, before?"

"Did you know what I was thinking?" he countered, still staring out the window. She couldn't tell if his tonelessness was natural or simply a result of his morph. "Or what I was feeling?"

She frowned, trying to figure that out. "I don't know," she said at last. She watched him watch the night, wishing he would demorph again. "Does it matter?"

"Yes."

She waited for him to elaborate, but he did not, and she suppressed a sigh of frustration. He seemed somehow... farther away than he had in his starfighter. After several moments of silence, she had to ask, "Did I do something wrong?"

He started at that, finally turning to look at her. "No," he said. Surprise was the first hint of emotion she had heard from his armored form, and it made her feel a little bit better. "Why would you think that?"

"Because..." She nodded at him, searching for words to explain what she had thought blatantly obvious. "You're morphed. And you're here, but... you won't talk. I don't understand," she added helplessly.

He turned away again. "I am sorry. I should not have come."

His form shimmered briefly. She knew what he was going to do before he did it, and she put as much steel into her voice as she could. "Don't. Leave."

The figure by her window resolidified, and he was once again looking at her in surprise. Or at least, she got the distinct impression of surprise; his visor still hid his expression.

"Saryn..." She wasn't sure how much liberty their two evenings together permitted her; she might feel like she knew him, but he seemed almost a different person behind his Ranger uniform. "If I had woken you up in your starfighter at this time of night, would you just let me leave?"

He was silent for a long moment. "I would assume something was wrong," he said, his voice a little quieter than before. "I would ask you to stay until you had told me what it was."

She waited for a moment, but he didn't offer anything else. She leaned over, putting her hand under her pillow and feeling around. Her fingers closed around her Turbo key and she pulled it out, holding it up so he could see it in the dimness. "Would you want me to do it like this?"

He looked down, visor gazing at the floor so that he gave the impression of hanging his head. If she hadn't been so worried about him she might have laughed. From the Phantom Ranger it was almost comical; from Saryn it was just troubling.

At last he answered, in the same monotone as before. "If it was the only way you could do it; yes."

She tried to puzzle that out, and found she couldn't. "Saryn?" She sat a little further forward, trying to resist the temptation to get up and go to him. "Please tell me what's wrong."

There was a pause, and then he asked, "How much of this can you feel?" Only the lilt at the end of the sentence made it a question; his voice was curiously free of expression.

"How much of what?" she asked automatically. But then she remembered the whispers of... *something*, that she had felt before he made himself visible. She hadn't noticed anything like it since--but was it gone, or was she just distracted?

She closed her eyes, wondering if maybe the quiet of almost-sleep had made her more receptive to whatever kind of ESP he was talking about. She didn't think it strange to find herself suddenly believing in something she had mocked most of her life; tonight, somehow, it seemed only natural.

Warmth. It was her first impression on closing her eyes, and it didn't seem quite right considering the coolish breeze slinking in across her windowsill. It was a warmth that seemed to want to wrap itself around her, one that was completely focused on her without being intrusive in the slightest.

"It feels warm," she said aloud. She tried to frown, but it was such a pleasant feeling that she couldn't manage it. "What does that mean?"

She heard him sigh, and her eyes flew open. The sound had been so much more real this time that she almost wasn't surprised to find him standing closer, without the Ranger uniform that had protected him only a few seconds ago. The starlight from the window behind her cast strange shadows on his face, making him seem both more and less alien than his armored counterpart had been.

"It means," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on hers, "that I shouldn't be here, with you, now. And that I definitely shouldn't be unmorphed."

"But... you are," she said hesitantly, reaching for his hand. He looked down, letting her fingers take hold of his and returning the gesture seemingly without thinking. She, in turn, let him tug her gently to her feet so that they were standing face to face.

"I am," he agreed, still staring down at their clasped hands. "I shouldn't be."

"You keep saying that," she murmured, tracing the back of his hand with her thumb. It caused the strangest echo, as though she was holding his hands with both of hers, and she wondered that she had never noticed it before. "I don't think it's true."

He lifted his gaze to hers, and even in the semi-dark she could see the longing there. "It's true," he whispered. "Believe me, it's true."

Not warmth, she realized distantly. Heat. It was heat that she was feeling from him... or feeling in herself. It was hard to tell which. She wasn't entirely sure it mattered--he had come to her because something was wrong, after all, and if it was within her power to fix it then who was she to say no?

"I believe you," she murmured, lifting her free hand to his face and running her fingers along his jaw. She let her arm fall a little, resting her hand against his chest. "Just not about this."

"I told you I could control this," he said. The struggle was evident in his expression as he stared back at her. "Please don't make it any harder than it already is."

"But you want me to." She didn't have to think about it; she *knew* that was true.

Chagrin warred with the intensity on his face. "Yes," he admitted softly. "But that's no reason to do it."

His hair was falling in his eyes again, and she finally gave in to the temptation to brush it back. She heard him catch his breath, and she smiled a little. "What if I want to?"

He swallowed, not taking his eyes off of her. "Then... that would be different."

She leaned forward to kiss him gently. "Then it's different," she whispered in his ear. "Stay tonight."

He didn't respond, staring at the wall over her shoulder. "Do you know what you're asking?" he asked quietly.

"No," she said honestly. She kissed him again, feeling the heat in his mind building as it swirled around them despite his best efforts. "But I trust you. More than I've ever trusted anyone."

His gaze found hers once more, and the look of mingled awe and adoration there took her breath away. For a moment he was silent. When she opened her mouth, though, he laid one finger across her lips and whispered, "Shh. Do you feel that?"

"What?" she murmured, tilting her head a little as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"The moment," he said softly, simply. "Don't miss it." Without another word, he slid his fingers into her hair and leaned forward to kiss her.

The tenderness of the kiss surprised her, full of passion but without the desperate edge she had subconsciously braced herself for. She felt it sweep her up, making the kiss a part of her that was meant to be while it promised even more. She stepped closer, her hand still on his chest as he slid his arms around her, and the rest of the world fell away.


9. Come With Me

"--degrees in Angel Grove this morning, a cool start to what looks like a warm day. REB time is 6:01 this Tuesday morning, and you're listening to Cat Country one oh two dot five. Here's Doug Supernaw with 'Not Enough Hours In The Night'."

The first thing she was aware of as the DJ's voice penetrated was the fact that she was being held. There was absolutely no doubt of that, even in the most sleep-clouded recesses of her brain. The next thing she became aware of was that someone was playing with her hair.

She didn't move, though whether by choice or default she wasn't entirely sure. This was her futon--this was definitely her room, so that was the "where". She thought she could guess the "what", given that she wasn't wearing anything and she didn't seem to be the only one. That only left "who"...

"Saryn?" she whispered tentatively.

The hand on her hair paused. "I hope you weren't expecting anyone else," his voice murmured. He sounded huskier and more relaxed than she had yet seen him, and even slightly--amused?

She twisted, trying to catch a glimpse of his expression, and she felt him shift slightly. Then she was staring up at him, his dark hair falling in his face as he leaned on one elbow and gazed back at her. She swallowed, caught unprepared for the intensity in his blue eyes. "You're real," she breathed, unable to put any other words to her feelings.

He nodded once, his hand lingering on her stomach even as his gaze held hers. "Most people do not hold that against me."

His expression was so serious that it took her a moment to realize what was happening. He was teasing her! She hadn't even been sure he knew *how* to tease. "I'm not 'most people'," she informed him, pouting slightly.

His eyes strayed for the first time, resting on her mouth as he lifted two fingers to gently trace her lips. "No," he agreed softly. "You are certainly not."

The implied compliment emboldened her, and she reached up to touch his cheek. His bangs tickled her fingers and she brushed them back automatically, smiling when they only fell in face again as soon as she let go.

His lips twitched. It was the first hint of a smile she had seen since she woke up, and she lifted her head to kiss him before it vanished. His arm slid around her shoulders to support her, and before she knew it he was holding her close to him, lying back against her pillows and returning her tender kiss as though it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

She relaxed in his arms, still surprised by his easy intimacy. It wasn't at all what she had expected, and she could think of only one explanation for it. She didn't want to ask, but she didn't want to end up obsessing over it, either.

With a final kiss she drew back a little, bracing one elbow on the mattress and her other arm on his chest. "Saryn," she murmured. He waited patiently, eyes never leaving hers as she struggled for the words. Did it really matter that much?

"Last night," she said at last. "I... I wasn't your first, was I."

He just looked at her for a moment, then shook his head wordlessly.

She swallowed, shifting a little as her shoulder complained about her position. She had expected that, and she told herself it didn't matter. *That was then,* she thought firmly. But was it? Did she know enough about him to be able to say? *What business is it of mine, anyway?*

"I--" His voice cracked, and she lifted her gaze to his in surprise. The distress on his face took her aback, and she could only stare as he whispered, "I can't talk about it, Cassie." His breath caught as he added, "I'm sorry."

"No..." She leaned forward, kissing him softly in what she feared was a futile effort to erase the pain in his gaze. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have asked." She kissed him again, wishing she could somehow make up for the curiosity that only seemed to hurt him. "I didn't mean to upset you."

He didn't answer, but she felt him sigh a little as she laid her head down on his chest. Always there with the wrong questions, she mused. Can't talk about being alone. Can't ask about family. Can't mention past loves. She couldn't help but wonder if one big, truly horrible thing had happened to him, or if it had been lots of little bad things.

"She--" He cleared his throat, but his voice was no less hoarse when he spoke again. "She was a Ranger, like... like you. One--one of my teammates."

She bit her lip, torn between the desire to ask who his teammates were and to tell him to stop talking. It hurt just to hear him speak, as though each word was tearing something in her own heart. But if he could tell her, then she could listen. She struggled to hold her silence as he continued.

"She died," he whispered, and she felt tears well up at the desolate sadness in his voice. "In battle... I thought--" He hesitated, and she almost told him to stop again. But he finished in a rush, as though he couldn't not say it now that he'd started. "I never thought I'd love anyone else again," he confessed, arms tightening around her as though she might suddenly pull away.

She didn't move, at a loss for what to say. "I'm sorry," she whispered at last, feeling that the words were pitifully inadequate.

"You do not need to be sorry," he murmured, stroking her hair hesitantly. "It is enough for me that you are here."

She wanted to be here, she realized suddenly. Whether last night had been an accident or not, whether she had been too sleepy to know what she was saying to him or whether the magic of his presence had just turned off the part of her brain that was responsible for thinking, she didn't know. But she wouldn't go back and change it.

"If you wish it were not so," he began, an ineffable sadness in the words.

"Don't." She put one hand on his chest and lifted her head, determined not to let him finish that sentence. "I. Don't. Regret. Anything." She stared at him, a little surprised to see a flicker of amusement on his face. "What?"

"Do you feel that I will not understand you if you speak too quickly?" he inquired, holding her gaze.

"Yes," she declared, trying not to blush. "That's exactly what I feel. You're awfully quick to decide for me sometimes, you know."

His expression sobered. "Am I?" he asked quietly.

"Sometimes," she repeated, searching his eyes for some indication of what he was thinking. "Just little things, really. Last night--you were so sure I didn't want to listen to you. And then you were sure I didn't want to be with you. And now... I don't want you to decide that I regret last night before I have a chance to say I don't."

He didn't answer, but his gaze remained fixed on hers for what seemed like an eternity. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't read anything in his expression, and the longer she stared the more she found herself getting lost in those blue eyes. It was as though they felt everything she felt, projecting her feelings back at her but revealing nothing of their own.

Finally his eyes closed, releasing her, and she heard him whisper something too softly for her to make out.

"What?" she asked gently, frustrated with herself for not having caught it the first time.

He swallowed. "I'm afraid," he repeated, only a fraction louder than before.

She shifted a little, not wanting to put any more distance between them by sitting up but not wanting to lose her glimpse of his expression by lying down again either. "So?" she said softly, as though by speaking more quietly she could make him feel safer. "Everyone's afraid sometimes. It's not a bad thing."

"I'm afraid of you," he whispered, eyes still closed.

She could only stare at him. "Why?" she managed at last. "Why would you be afraid of me?"

"Because," he breathed, as though it was all the answer she needed. Finally, though, he added, "You... I can't--I haven't *felt* anything in so long."

She waited, but he said nothing more. "I don't understand," she murmured, touching his face gently. As hard as it was to stare into his eyes and see nothing, she wished now that he would do anything but keep them closed.

He opened his eyes slowly, as though he had heard her silent plea, and this time the mirror was gone. If he was seeing straight into her soul, then now she was looking right back into his. And what she saw in his eyes gave the lie to his words.

"Yes you do," she whispered, startled by the sudden change. "You do feel; you hurt, every day, but it was so bad that you couldn't let anyone see it... you're so used to it that you don't even notice--but you didn't hurt last night, did you. You were happy, and that's why you're so scared now."

He didn't answer, but he didn't have to. She hadn't guessed that, she had just known somehow, had felt it radiating from him as he stared back at her. "It's okay," she murmured, brushing her lips against his. "I love you, and I'm not going anywhere."

*Except to school,* she added silently, as the DJ announced the time again. But she couldn't say that now. "You can keep being afraid if you want, but I'm going to keep trying to make you happy, so I guess you'll just have to get used to it. You can even keep deciding for me if you really want--I'll just make sure to speak extra. Slowly. From now on so you'll have to listen."

She was rewarded by a tremulous smile. "That's better," she whispered, laying her fingers over his mouth and feeling the smile strengthen a little. "I'm not going to ask what hurts, but I hope you know you're beautiful when you smile."

She kissed him again, feeling him return it this time, and at last she felt comfortable enough to sit up. She gave him an anxious look when his smile faded, but he only continued to watch her, somewhat more calmly than before.

"How did you know?" he asked at last. "What you said about me, just now."

His eyes were shuttered again, and his tone was almost even. Only a slight waver betrayed the vulnerability he was well on his way to burying once more.

"I--" She stopped, suddenly struck by the question. Who knew something like that just by looking into someone's eyes? "I don't know," she admitted, studying him carefully. "Was I... was I wrong?"

He shook his head once, not taking his eyes off of her. "No," he said quietly. "You weren't wrong."

She smiled self-consciously under his thoughtful gaze. "Maybe I was just lucky."

"I don't think so," he murmured. "Cassie... what if I said that--the fact you can just look at me and know something like that might mean something."

He was trying to gauge *her* expression now, she realized. "Like what?"

He hesitated. "That... we might be together for some time."

She smiled outright at that. "If you said that? I'd probably say, 'Well, duh!'" It was only a passable imitation of Ashley, but he probably wouldn't recognize it anyway. She tried not to giggle at his expression. "I don't sleep with just anyone, you know."

"Their loss," he murmured.

Her eyes widened. "What?"

He sighed almost imperceptibly. "I suppose that is not a polite thing to say here. Someday I will learn not to discuss sex with aliens."

"Excuse me!" Her indignation was fighting a losing battle with laughter, and she saw the corners of his mouth quirk upward. "You're teasing me again, aren't you!"

"No." His reply was so swift that it took her aback--and before she could object he had pinned her arms to her sides and pressed his mouth to hers with a force that took her breath away. She hadn't even seen him sit up, but his tongue was making sensation explode inside her head and then he was trailing hungry kisses down her neck, eliciting a soft moan of delight that she was completely unprepared to suppress.

"Now," he breathed in her ear, his hands making her shiver as they ran softly across her skin. "Now I'm teasing you."

Her eyes widened and she shoved him back, startled by the roguish grin on his face. "You--you're--" She couldn't quite get the words out, not when she was having trouble breathing and she kept getting distracted by his smile.

"So are you," he replied easily. It was either a compliment or an insult, depending on what she had been about to say, and she got the distinct impression that he knew the comment she had been trying to make was not a flattering one.

But she could only kiss him for it, and he seemed to know that. His arms slid around her as soon as she leaned forward, and for a few moments she welcomed his heated embrace. He felt better than anything she'd ever known...

He didn't seem surprised when she made a move to pull away, though she caught the look in his eyes before he could hide it. He was trying to stamp the fire down, push it away, out of sight where he wouldn't have to deal with it. That alone made her hesitate, but one glance at her alarm clock made up her mind for her. Ten minutes until Ashley's alarm went off--he had to disappear, and she had to take her turn in the shower before her friend got up.

"School," she said reluctantly

"Eltare," he agreed, and the same regret was in his eyes, if not his voice.

She paused. "You're... leaving." She managed just in time to turn it into a statement rather than a question, for it had certainly been unfair to doubt that. He couldn't exactly stay here, after all.

"Just for the day," he said quietly, searching her expression. "My sister expected me some time ago, and I'm afraid nothing but my presence will be enough to satisfy her now. I will return this evening--if you wish to see me."

"You could do that?" She tried not to hold her breath, wondering how long a journey he was talking about. How far away *was* Eltare? She had never thought about it until yesterday. "You'd come back tonight?"

He nodded. "I could, and I would. I would offer to take you with me, if I thought you were likely to agree."

Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward. "Ask me," she suggested impulsively.

He stared at her as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Would you--come with me? To Eltare?"

She felt an irrepressible smile spreading across her face, and her heart was racing the way it always did when she was about to do something crazy. It was the same rush that got her out on stage in front of a crowd, and she knew before she even spoke what her answer would be. She had promised herself long ago that she would never pass up an adventure, and that vow was the reason she was a Ranger now.

"I could really go?" she said, just to make sure. "And we'd be back by tonight?"

He nodded once, eyes fixed on hers.

"You'll regret more the things you don't do than the things you do." Her voice teacher had said that again and again, and she had never found it to be untrue.

"Yes," she said, watching his expression carefully and trying to contain her excitement. "I really want to go--can we leave now? Do I need anything? Are you sure it's okay with you?"

He smiled, a slow smile that reached up and lit something in his eyes, and she knew suddenly that it wasn't just a reflection of hers. He was honestly delighted by her answer, amused by her questions, and completely serious in his invitation.

"Clothes," he said at last. "You need nothing else, and we can leave as soon as you're ready."

"And--" she began, but he cut her off.

"It's more than okay, Cassie. It's..." He paused, apparently searching for the words. At last, he said simply, "It's wonderful."

She laughed, too happy to do anything else, and leaned forward to kiss him quickly. "I'm going to go take the fastest shower in the history of the world," she told him. "Then I'm going to leave a note for Ashley and we can go. Do you want anything to eat first? The kitchen should be empty for another--" She glanced at her clock. "Seven minutes?"

"Thank you, but I will eat later," he said, an uninterpretable look on his face. "I do not wish to question you, but--Ashley?"

She couldn't stop grinning. "I'm not going to tell her the *truth*! I'll be back in two seconds."

She wasn't quite as good as her word, but when Ashley's alarm finally went off and the other girl shuffled into the bathroom, she found a note waiting for her beside the sink. Across the hall, Cassie's radio alarm was muttering to itself in an empty room as the DJ announced, "It's half past the hour here at Cat Country, KREB. That was Reba McIntyre, and 'I'd Rather Ride Around With You'..."


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