1. In the beginning there was this story. Then there was Trini-in-Israel story, and I realized the two have a common theme. I contemplated the idea of making a project out of the theme, and decided that only if I found an idea for a third story. Then the weekend magazine had a title with the golf term Mulligan in it.

2. So this story had been six years in the making. Unlike the other stories in this collection, it's not a miniature but a full-sized novella. This is a special moment to me.

3. Credit where it's due: the kernel of inspiration for this story came from Dingo's Never Lie. The lyrics that frame the story - and provide the title - are from Joni Mitchell's song Hejira.

4. Love and Gratitude: to Camille (cmar) and Mara Aoife, friends and beta readers. Extra thanks to: Dany (cobalt-blue) who helped pick Jamie's car, Camille (again) who helped with everything New York and highlander-bellflower, who told me about being a journalist.

5. To stick to what is now tradition, I announce that this story in Project: Aftermath is called "Petty Wars".

Project: Aftermath

Adam Park

"I'm traveling in some vehicle
Sitting in some café
A defector from the petty wars
That shell-shock love away."

(0) Away

"Oh, hi Jason," said Rocky, opening the door. "Sorry it took me so long to answer the door, man. I completely forgot you're supposed to drop by."

"Forget it," answered Jason, stepping into Rocky's basement apartment. Rocky's deep frown didn't escape his eyes. "Everything all right?"

"Yes. No. I don't know." Rocky collapsed into the beanbag chair. He waved his hand. "Feel free."

Jason sat down on a chair.

"I just had the weirdest phone call from Tanya," said Rocky. "Ouch."

Jason raised a patient eyebrow, and waited for Rocky to continue.

"Adam broke up with her yesterday."

"He what?" Jason didn't even try to conceal his shock. Only a month before, at the yearly reunion, Adam and Tanya had seemed like a pair of lovebirds. "What happened?"

"No idea," said Rocky. "There were no signs; Adam's good like that."

"Wow." Jason leaned back in his chair.

"And that's not all," said Rocky darkly. "He quit his job, too."

"Well," said Jason again. "Just wow."

Rocky nodded. "Tanya was still too shocked to cry, when she called," he said.

"Should we drive over to LA?" suggested Jason.

"I asked her. She said she'd rather if we didn't."

Jason shook his head. "I wish I knew what happened."

"Only Adam knows."

(1) Mirrors

Nancy smiled when she saw the young Asian-looking man enter the diner, 7 a.m. sharp.

"Hi, Adam!" she called.

"Hi Nance," Adam answered. He walked over to the counter, and slid into a stool. Never the same one, she noted with some amusement. He was a regular – but he just wouldn't choose a regular seat.

"So, what will it be today?" she asked.

"Let me see." He surveyed the menu, written across the board in Nancy's neat script. "What's today's special?"

Nancy rolled her eyes. At least his order was predictable.

"Chili muffins."

"Suits me fine. And some Jasmine tea."

"Orange juice?"

"Why not."

"Right away." She was just about to turn, when her eyes caught something in the street. "Do I love classic design, or what?"

Adam turned around.

A Pontiac Firebird pulled up in front of the diner. The driver parked it carefully, got out, patted the white engine cover fondly, and went into the diner.

She was petite, almost childish. She wore a simple T-shirt and jeans, and her strawberry-blonde curls brushed against her shoulders. She went over and set a few stools from Adam. Close up, he could see that she had a milky way of light freckles across her mildly tanned face.

"Morning," she said, sliding into a stool and addressing Nancy.

"Morning," answered the surprised waitress. "What can I get you, Miss?"

The blonde took a brief look at the menu. "What's today's special?"

"Chili muffins."

"Who would have that for breakfast?"

"I would," said Adam, then bit his tongue.

She turned to him.

Adam remained silent as she studied his face for several long seconds.

"That desperate, huh?" she said finally, and snapped back to the awaiting Nancy: "I'll have your largest mug of hot chocolate and Penny's Pancake Pile. Who's Penny?"

"Penny's my aunt, and would you like maple syrup or hot chocolate sauce with your pancakes?"

"Definitely maple." She turned again to Adam. "What are you staring at?"

He said the first thing that came to his mind. "A girl worth talking to."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Worth talking to."

"Your call. What did you mean by desperate?"

"Just that."

"You think I'm desperate?"

"Aren't you?"

She wasn't flirting. The realization struck Adam and he swallowed. This girl wasn't fooling around with words; she wasn't trying to sound sophisticated. Her question and the intention behind it were honest and sincere.

"Perhaps we don't use the same meaning for this word," she said when he didn't reply. "I don't mean desperate as in…"

"I know what you mean," he said. His throat finally unblocked itself. "It just never occurred to me before."

Nancy was back with two steaming mugs, a well-timed distraction. Her eyes darted between Adam and the girl, and she decided to leave them to themselves.

Adam took a careful sip from his tea just as the girl sighed contently over her hot chocolate.

"I drove through the night," she explained. "I made it through the last hour by promising myself some hot chocolate."

"Not coffee?"

"Naw." She shook her head, barely keeping her hair from dipping in the mug, "Drinking coffee when tired spoils the fun of it."

"Finally, another sensible person."

She inhaled deeply before taking a sip, basking in the aroma. "You too?" she asked sheepishly.

He nodded, and felt a smile stretching across his face. He hadn't smiled for months; not a real smile, in any case.

"Okay, you are," she said.

"Am what?"

"Worth talking to."

He raised his mug. "To us?" he suggested.

"To us," she agreed, and they clicked the mugs.

Only when they stepped out did Adam realize that he had forgotten something important.

"I'm Adam," he said.

"Jamie." She looked up at the bright sky. "As much as I hate sleeping during daytime, I'm asleep on my feet. You wouldn't happen to know of a decent motel or B&B around here, do you?"

"The one I'm staying at is decent enough. It's two blocks down that way." He pointed down the road.

"You walk two blocks to get your breakfast?"

"I enjoy the exercise."

"So early in the morning?" She shook her mane. "Well, I don't. Why don't you hop in and show me the way?"

"You need help with your stuff?" asked Adam, as soon as Jamie finished the check-in.

"I can carry my own bags, thank you very much," she answered, somewhat irritably.

"I'm sure you can. There's no need to bite my head off," he said, holding up his hands as a token of surrender.

"Sorry," she said, shifting from annoyed to tired in a heartbeat. "I haven't slept for – what?" she glanced quickly at her watch. "Twenty-seven hours or so."

Meanwhile they reached her car. Jamie let Adam help her shoulder her frame pack – even if somewhat reluctantly.

"Why'd you drive all night?" he asked.

"For the fun of it." She lifted her duffel bag and closed the trunk. "No, 'fun' isn't the word."

"Never mind, I got your point."

"So why bother asking?"

"Could I know the answer if I didn't ask?"

She paused, thinking it over. "Maybe you couldn't," she said finally, "Doesn't matter, once you asked."

"Oh, come on," he said, snatching the duffel bag from her hand. "The fact that you can carry this on your own doesn't mean that you should."

"You mean there's a difference?" asked Jamie jokingly, and shifted the conversation: "So, you've been here how long?"

"A week."

"Oh, so you probably know the area pretty well. Do you know if there's a nice park within normal walking distance?"

"Sure, but aren't you going to sleep first?"

"Sure gonna, but I won't sleep all day."

"I can tell you where the park is, but how about we go together?" suggested Adam.

"We might," she said. "What's your room number?"

He told her. "Just knock on the door when you're ready," he added.

"Deal."

Jamie. Adam rolled the name in his mind as he unlocked his door. Somehow I don't think it's her real name, he thought, dropping his keys on the table. Must be a nickname. I wonder what for.

She's just passing by, he reminded himself firmly. Just passing by. Don't get too excited about it.

It registered with him that he had never bothered to take his stuff out of his bag.

A week, he thought. When I moved to Angel Grove, it took me less than a day to make my room look like I've always lived there. When Tanya and I moved to LA, it took just a couple of hours. The thought invoked a dull pain, one that he quickly forced back with remembered panic: the cagey feeling that became a part of him. What was wrong? He wondered for who knows how long. Why'd I have to go away? Because there was no mistake: he'd had to leave. The panic forced him out of the life he had.

Not my life, he thought automatically. It couldn't have been my life, or I wouldn't have left. He went over and sat on the bed, covering his eyes with his fists.

It couldn't have been my life, or I'd have stayed.

Sure enough, Jamie knocked on his door at 4 p.m. sharp.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi. Why don't you come in while I put on my shoes? It'll only take a moment."

"Sure," she said, stepping in. Her eyes quickly surveyed the room, giving her next question a double edge: "So you're good to go?"

"Yes." He made a final tug on his laces, put his wallet in his pocket and grabbed the room's keys. "Shall we?"

"See, I told you it's only a five minute walk," said Adam. He and Jamie were standing at the last corner before the park, waiting for the traffic light to change.

Jamie nodded. "I never doubted you," she said.

The solemn tone of her voice made Adam smile. It was lopsided, but strangely enough, it seemed a testimony to the smile's honesty.

Jamie smiled in return, her smile fleeting and never reaching her eyes.

The traffic light changed its color, and the two crossed the road.

"It's a pretty big park," said Jamie casually as they walked around.

Adam shook his head. "Not really, but they did a very good job on it."

"Kind of reminds me of where I grew up," she said. "There was a park just over from where I lived."

"You hung out there a lot?"

"Not really."

"Come on," Adam said suddenly. Her wrist slipped out of his hand. "I want to show you something."

"It's supposed to be Japanese, right?" asked Jamie. Adam had taken her to a relatively hidden part of the park, which was designed in far-eastern style.

"Right," he said, moving to the center of the small lawn, away from the shadow of the trees. "You reminded me of this spot when you mentioned the place were you grew up. There was a spot very much like this one in the town where I lived."

"What are you doing?" asked Jamie.

Adam halted in the middle of a kata he didn't notice he'd started.

"I used to do martial arts," he said finally.

"Oh," said Jamie softly.

She hadn't asked about the "used to" part, but Adam felt that he owed an answer… to at least one of them.

"Old habits die hard, I guess," he said. It was suddenly hard to keep his voice stable. "I guess… I guess I miss it."

"I understand," said Jamie quietly. "Neverland, Mirror-world, whatever," she added even more quietly, perhaps speaking to herself. She set down where she was, in the shade, cross-legged, chin rested in palm, her elbow propped on a knee.

Now that she had drawn his attention to it, Adam couldn't ignore the need to move. He knew it would hurt mentally. He hadn't practiced for ages; he must be all rusty.

Still… He fell into a stance, even as he licked his lips nervously, and began warm-ups. The routine felt strange, but still familiar, very much like the feeling one got when a word teetered on one's tongue without being fully recalled.

The sense of completeness he got from the old practice was shocking, to say the least. He hadn't missed martial arts before, or he would have noticed; Adam was certain of that much. Yet it now came back to haunt him.

Haunt. Adam chased the word out of his mind. He'd think of it later, he promised himself. Right now, all he wanted was his old familiar form of meditation.

The color of the sunlight had changed. Jamie was sitting right where she was before, still cross-legged, but with a large notebook open across her knees. She closed

it quickly when she noticed him looking at her carefully.

"I'm sorry," he said. "We were supposed to spend the afternoon together. It's just that…"

"Don't apologize," said Jamie, stuffing the notebook in her bag and getting up. "I told you, I understand." She walked over to him and put a packet of tissues in his hand. "I don't ask questions, so you don't have to answer them."

Only then did Adam realize that he was crying.

"Thanks." he said.

Jamie shook her head vehemently. "Put that in the same category as answers," she said.

"You're a weird one, Jamie." He handed her back the packet. "I feel like I know you, but I don't get you at all."

"I don't ask questions," said Jamie.

Adam was about to ask "What's that the answer to?" but thought better of it.

"So I won't, either," he said.

In reply, he got the first genuine smile he'd seen from her.

(2) Cinnamon

Never a regular seat, thought Nancy in amusement as Adam slid into a booth.

"Good morning," she greeted him, moving over with a menu in her hand – though she doubted that it'd be needed.

"Morning," he greeted back.

"Aren't you going to ask about today's special?" she teased.

"No. Whatever it is, I'll have it."

"With orange juice and jasmine tea?"

"Orange juice is fine, but I think I'll go for coffee."

"How do you like your coffee?"

"You know what, let it be just breakfast and juice for now."

"Right away."

As Nancy got back to the counter, she noticed the white Firebird pulling over, and the pretty little blonde coming into the diner. Nancy wasn't surprised even one bit when the blonde joined Adam's table. Nancy walked over to their table.

"Good morning, miss," she said.

"Morning," said Jamie.

"What can I get you?"

"Penny's Pancake Pile, and your largest mug of hot chocolate."

Birds of a feather, thought Nancy amusedly. "Sure thing."

"Wait a sec, Nance," said Adam. "Jamie, how do I like my coffee?"

Jamie's expression said How would I know? clear as day. Nancy stifled a chuckle.

"Half espresso, half foamed milk, no sugar and a tinge of cinnamon," Jamie fired away.

"Anything else I can get you guys?"

"No, thanks," answered Adam.

He and Jamie were left to themselves. For a few moments, they said nothing.

Adam's patience ran out first. "Aren't you going to ask me why did I ask you to order my coffee for me?"

"Nah." Jamie shook her head. "I figured that you set me up, and would spill the beans if I just kept my silence long enough."

"You got two things right. I did set you up, and I will 'spill the beans.'"

Jamie raised a single eyebrow, in a gesture that strongly reminded Adam of his own sarcastic moods.

"I get the impression that there is something I didn't get right," she said.

"What do you think I set you up for?" he asked.

"To ask you a question."

"Wrong." Adam leaned back with satisfaction. "Do you know how much you can learn about a person from how they order their coffee?"

Jamie tilted her head left, and then right. "You wanted to know what I think of you?" she asked.

"Wrong again. How do you think I usually drink my coffee, Jamie? Half milk, with cinnamon?"

"You drink it black," she said hesitantly, after a moment. "You never drink instant. One sugar, sometimes one and a half. You put cinnamon only when you feel that you really need it."

"I've never tried cinnamon in my coffee," he said, "But the rest is dead on."

There was silence again.

"What did you set me up for?" she asked finally.

Adam sighed. "You make me feel like such a jerk," he said.

Nancy was back. She put a large jar of orange juice in the middle of the table, put down two steaming mugs, and a large bowl of oatmeal in front of Adam.

"Your pancakes will be ready soon," she promised Jamie.

Jamie nodded, said "Thanks," and Nancy was gone again.

"Surprise breakfast again?" asked Jamie wryly, as Adam tried his oatmeal.

"It's actually good," he answered, "And yes."

"Chili muffins one day, and oatmeal the next. No wonder you like this place."

"Care to share?"

"Didn't we say no questions?"

"You asked me a couple of questions yesterday," he pointed out.

"I did, didn't I."

"Pretty much threw me off my balance, too." He took a careful sip from his coffee. "I like cinnamon in my coffee."

"So this is what, payback?"

"Self defense. Or used to be."

"When did it have the time to become a used-to-be?"

"When I figured I like my coffee the way you ordered it."

Jamie sighed into her mug, and put it down. "I don't get you at all."

"Right back at you," he said.

"What did you mean, when you said I made you feel like a jerk?"

"You sit there and look like a lost little kid, and I feel like the bad guy."

She snorted. "And what d'you reckon you look like?"

Adam laughed. "We evened up again, huh?"

Her lips quirked. "We even act like little kids."

He shook his head. "I behaved like an adult for most of my teen years. I deserve to be a little kid for a while."

"No objections here."

"The hot chocolate and pancakes deal pretty much gives you away."

"Give me away for what?"

"You like to play with images." His spoon was pointed at her. "More specifically, with your image."

"So, what did you learn from the way I ordered your coffee?" she asked. Her voice betrayed nothing more than curiosity.

"I learned that I can trust you."

"Damn it, you're too trusting."

"I can trust you, because you care. That's why you just spoke without thinking."

He didn't expect her to laugh, but she did, shaking her head and nearly dipping her curls in her mug. "You're probably the most interesting thing that's happened to me in years."

Nancy chose that moment to interrupt with Jamie's pancakes.

Jamie dove into her breakfast in a famished manner that was a sharp reminder of Rocky.

Damn it, I miss him, thought Adam. He and Aisha are probably the only ones I miss. And Aisha is in Africa.

If Jamie noticed his strange expression, she said nothing and showed nothing.

"So," she asked, after devouring half the pancake pile in half the time it would've taken Adam. "Any plans for today?"

"Not really."

"How about a lazy walkabout?"

"Deal."

The day passed, and so did another one; three lazy, fleeting days. Between the stable routine Adam and Jamie formed themselves, and the sharp turnabouts of their conversation, those were the best days Adam had had in ages.

It was the evening of the third day, and the two were sitting at a small coffee shop they had just spotted, digging into the tricolor cake.

"Adam," said Jamie suddenly, "You do know that I'll be off in a day or two."

Adam's fork froze in mid-air. "You what? Why?"

"I never stay long in one place."

"Oh," said Adam. He put down his fork.

"Actually, I thought you'd be the first to leave," continued Jamie, avoiding his eyes. "As you've been here longer…"

He would've left already, except that Jamie was here.

"I don't really mind how long I stay somewhere," he said, "so long as I know that I can get up and leave."

"Oh. It's different for me; I hardly ever stay more than four days in the same place. I've done more laps across the US than I can count." The tone of her voice clearly implied: I'm sorry.

"It's okay," he said, responding to the words she did not say: apologies fell into the same category as thank-you's and personal questions. "I understand."

"Hey, that's my line."

"I didn't know you copyrighted it."

Adam tried to continue the joking line, but he didn't feel like it. When he had left LA two months ago, he knew that loneliness would become an issue. He didn't want Jamie out of his life – at least not just yet.

The coffee-stained teaspoon reflected his face, warping it. Adam tilted it, twisting the reflection the other way around. Then, the answer was there, simple and obvious: if Jamie didn't want him out of her life, too, as her voice implied…

"Do you take hitchhikers?" he asked.

She lifted her eyes and locked them with his. "What?"

"Because if you do, how about I hop on?"

She was still staring at him – he had no way to know if she liked the idea, or not.

"How about we move tomorrow?" she asked. "If you're in, I have no reason to stay here any longer."

Adam laughed. "Come on, let's get packing!"

Adam popped his head into Jamie's room. "I'm packed. You?"

"Give me a minute."

"I talked to the receptionist. We're clear."

"You lived here longer than I did, and it still took you less time to pack," complained Jamie, stuffing the last of her things into the duffel bag. "Where's the sense in that?"

"They say guys take less time to pack."

A pillow zoomed past where his head had been; he ducked just in time.

"I'll aim better next time," warned Jamie.

In reply, Adam picked up the pillow, and gave it his best shot.

Jamie caught it and sent it back in one swift movement.

"You're good," observed Adam, holding the pillow.

Jamie picked up another one, seeing that he was not about to return her weapon. "So are you." And she charged.

Half an hour later they sat, panting and grinning broadly, on the carpet.

"That was fun," said Jamie.

"You can say that again. It's been way too long since I last had a pillow fight."

"Can't break my record of – well, not having had one until college."

"You gotta be kidding."

"Am not."

"And I thought I was a grown-up kid."

"Yeah, well," said Jamie matter-of-factly. "Are we still going to leave at sunrise tomorrow?"

"Think so."

She yawned. "Then we'd better go to sleep."

"Where are we going, by the way?"

"Oh, I don't know. Any ideas?"

"I heard that Vermont is beautiful at this time of the year."

"Never been to Vermont?"

"Nope."

"Let's fix that, then. So, Vermont it is. Shouldn't take us more than two days to get there."

Adam yawned, too. "Great."

"Get out, kid." said Jamie affectionately.

"Thanks," said Adam, getting up.

"What for?"

"Calling me a kid."

Jamie shrugged. "If it makes your day."

"Told you I was a grown-up teenager."

"It's too late an hour for this kind of talk," yawned Jamie. "Go sleep. Or at least go and let me sleep."

"I think I'll sleep."

"So sleep well."

"You too."

Rather than heading for his room, Adam found himself heading for a payphone he had spotted earlier, and sliding some coins into it. He dialed a familiar number, and waited. Just when he was about to give up, the person he called picked up the phone.

"Hello?" he said, somewhat breathlessly.

"Hi, Rocko."

"Adam!" Next followed the sound of heavy stuff falling, and Rocky's mild swearing. "Now look what you've done; I dropped all my shopping bags!"

"And that would be a considerable lot, considering your famous appetite."

"Oh, to hell with the groceries! It's nice of you to finally let me know you're alive!"

"I'd say I'm sorry, but for one thing it won't make anything right, and for another… Oh, never mind."

"You okay, Adam?" asked Rocky, suddenly serious. "You need anything?"

"No, I'm fine. What, you thought I called just because I needed something?"

"No… Adam, I don't know what to think. I've heard nothing from you for months now; not a single word since… Since before Tanya called."

"I know. For what it's worth, Rocky, I didn't want you guys to worry about me."

Rocky snorted. "Stay away from the girls, they'll have your head."

"I can imagine," said Adam wryly. "So, what have you been up to since July?"

"Oh, nothing," said Rocky in a careless tone that was obviously false. "Jason and I took over from Stevens, no biggie."

"No biggie?" Adam almost choked on the words. Jason had learned karate at Stevens' dojo, and was later hired by his old sensei. "Wow, Rocky, that's great!"

"It is," admitted Rocky, but his enthusiasm faded with his next words: "It's not how I wanted it, but it's still great."

"Sorry," said Adam softly, and this time he really meant it. He and Rocky used to talk about running a dojo together.

"It isn't the way Jason wanted it, either," continued Rocky, seemingly ignoring Adam's apology. "He wanted Tommy to be his partner, but Tommy's in college and is into paleontology, of all things. So Jason and I teamed up together. Adam?"

"Yes?"

"Any chance you'll tell me what happened?"

Adam actually thought it over. "Not in the visible future, I don't think so. No."

"Thought so," muttered Rocky. "So at least tell me – where are you now? What are you doing? How're you doing?"

"I'm currently on the way to Vermont, should be there in a couple of days – that's both 'where' and 'what'," Adam ticked the questions on his fingers. "As for 'how' – I'm fine."

"What happened to make you call?"

"I missed you," said Adam simply. "Been so for a couple of days, so I thought I'd give you a call."

"Oh." Rocky seemed lost for words, for there was a noticeable silence before he spoke again. "Don't be sorry, Kermit. It's okay. Just – try to call in more often than once every couple of months, won't you?"

"I will," promised Adam. "Look, I need to get up early tomorrow – I'll call you again, okay?"

"You'd better, I got this call tracked."

"A lot of good it'll do, seeing as I'm on the move," teased Adam back. "It won't be months, I promise."

"Take care," said Rocky gloomily. "Or I'll kick your ass."

"Thanks. And good luck with the dojo."

"Thanks."

There was an awkward silence.

"Bye, Rocko."

"Bye, Adam."

"Didn't sleep well?" asked Jamie. She and Adam were walking to the car; Adam hadn't stopped yawning.

"Not really," he admitted. "I should be used to it by now."

Jamie nodded. "I can relate. I'm an awfully light sleeper – I have to wear myself out before going to sleep, or else I keep being woken by every car passing under the window and every cat mewing in the neighborhood."

"I sleep soundly enough. It's just that I dream too much."

"There's such a thing as dreaming too much?" asked Jamie, her tone curious. "I barely do."

"Normal dreams are okay, but there's the kind of dreams that leave you feeling as if you didn't sleep at all."

Jamie tilted her head left, and then right. "Sounds nasty," she said finally.

They had reached the car. Jamie opened the trunk.

"It's a good thing you have even less stuff than I do," she said.

"Yeah well," he said. "I kind of didn't want to take the memories along with the stuff."

"Give me a hand here, will you?" asked Jamie. She was fitting the bags so that they wouldn't move during the trip. She never asked.

(3) Coffee

The phone rang. Sleepily, Rocky reached out for it and pressed Talk.

"It's too damn early," he yawned into the receiver.

"Morning to you too," came Adam's voice, happy as a lark. "I've got a feeling I won't see a phone till dusk, so I figured I'd give you a call."

Rocky sat in his bed, and stretched. "How nice and considerate of you," he said.

"I've never seen anything like it."

"Like what?"

"This girl drinks coffee like Tommy downs smoothies after training."

Despite the early Saturday-morning rise, Rocky laughed. "Come on, nobody drinks that much coffee."

"Oh yeah?" came the sarcastic reply. "Well, she was emptying a very large instant when I came in this morning to drag her down to breakfast, had two double-shot espressos with that waffle, and now she stopped for a mug of who-knows-what under the pretense of needing gas."

"Maybe you're out of gas."

The only answer he got was a mighty sneeze.

"Hey! Didn't your momma tell you it's not polite to sneeze on people?"

"For one thing, hay fever's not catching, and for the other, even if it were, there is no germ, virus or bacteria that could reach you through the phone lines."

"Since when do you have hay fever? And I thought hay fever only strikes in the spring."

"It has the symptoms of hay fever and it reacts to hay fever medications, so it's hay fever as far as I'm concerned; apparently I'm allergic to the local flora."

"I thought her name was Jamie?"

"Rockwell DeSantos, you ought to thank god that you're not within my arm's reach right now."

"Why?" asked Rocky innocently.

He got a reaction he did not bargain for: Adam laughed.

Adam was never one to laugh much. He was reserved and serious even as a kid, and the condition only got worse when they became Power Rangers: it was a festive occasion when Adam smiled, and a real laugh was a rare thing indeed. Things seemed to have changed, though. Over the last few months, Rocky had heard Adam laugh almost every other call. Even the sound of it had changed. It was now clear and ringing like a small child's. It practically made Rocky's day to hear it; he laughed too.

Jamie paid for the gas and the coffees, and headed back to the car with two paper cups. As she left the small shop, though, she noticed that Adam wasn't by the car. She looked around, and there he was by the pay phone.

Jamie remained where she was, hoping against the odds that he wouldn't notice her watching. Adam was always fascinating to her, but she loved most to watch him when he wasn't noticing. He was always so conscious and calculated, that she could almost see the weight being lifted from his shoulders when he thought he wasn't being watched.

He was leaning against the wall with his shoulder blades and left foot. The receiver was stuck between his head and his shoulder, and his hands fidgeted with something he must have picked up earlier. Suddenly, he broke into a laugh. The receiver fell. In one movement, a fraction of a second long, he grabbed the wire with his left, caught the receiver with his right and, placing it on his left shoulder, continued to chitchat.

"Beautiful," whispered Jamie. Standing like that, illuminated by the pale gold of the winter sun, it was the only word that seemed to describe him. "Just beautiful."

He must have really enjoyed the conversation, because it took him a whole minute to spot her. Jamie smiled when he waved in her direction, but stood still. She knew that if she moved in his direction he would end the call in a flash; plus she wanted to enjoy this just a little bit more. After all, the road was always there.

"So, don't you have to move or anything?" asked Rocky. Many of Adam's calls were made from gas stations, and Rocky got used to their conversations ending as soon as Jamie finished with the gas.

"No, she just got herself a seat. No hurry."

"Adam, your life revolves around that girl."

"Seeing as she's the driver and I'm the hitchhiker it's pretty normal, don't you think?"

Rocky was sorely tempted to remind Adam that most hitchhikers knew where they were heading to, but he hated to bring up this subject when Adam was in such an obviously good mood. Instead, he said: "Well, you always liked strong women."

"Rocky!" Not quite a laugh, but close.

"What?" said Rocky mock-defensively. "As long as you don't bring home a sumo wrestler , it's fine by me. I mean, a sumo fighter would eat more than I do, and that's totally not acceptable."

That got Adam into hysterics.

Rocky grinned triumphantly. Jackpot! he thought.

Jamie finished the first coffee, and started on the second one. Paper cups weren't much for heat conservation, and there just was no point in cold coffee. She considered a muffin, but they weren't really tempting, and she figured that she could go without it. All the time, she watched.

Rocky was probably being chewed out, as Adam was waving his finger in the air, his arms sort of half-crossed across his chest. It couldn't have been serious though, because he was grinning, too – not his usual lopsided smile, but a full-blown grin. It was quite unusual to see, and almost took getting used to, but it was nice: definitely so.

Jamie was halfway through the second paper cup when Adam finally hung up. Instead of hanging by the car, he walked over to her. Jamie didn't get up.

"Sorry I got us delayed," he said when he came within hearing distance.

"It's not like we're on schedule," she said wryly.

He almost blushed, she could tell. It was so easy to make him blush that it was hard not to do it to him on purpose.

"I had a little coffee break," she added.

"Yeah, I noticed."

She offered him the cup, and he shook his head.

"You shouldn't drink so much coffee," he told her. "It's not good for you."

"You stick with the rabbit food and the herbal water. Me, I'd rather have a bleeding dead animal on my plate and caffeine in my cup. Though hot chocolate's good too. How about some hot chocolate?"

"Sounds nice."

She got up. "I'll get us some."

"No, I'll get it."

"Oh, no you don't." Moving fast, she blocked his entrance to the little shop.

"Why don't you ever let me get us anything?" he complained, with a minimal pout. By now he'd learned that with Jamie, anything more was overkill.

Jamie bit her lip, and said: " 'Cause I'm a multimillionaire, and I'm never going to waste all that money."

"Very funny, Jamie."

"I'm serious."

They moved at the same instant, and though Adam was the martial artist, Jamie beat him to the counter. Smiling triumphantly, she ordered two large mugs of hot chocolate.

(4) Angel Grove

"Heads or tails?" asked Jamie. Late sunset rays reflected from her hair, coloring it with strips of orange.

"Heads," said Adam.

Jamie opened her palm, revealing 'Heads'. "West then," she said, starting the engine. Her eyes alone smiled as she said: "The desert is so beautiful at night."

"Good thing we agree," said Adam, closing his eyes and breathing deeply as the air rushed by his face, bringing the scented aroma of dry earth basked with the sun.

"Well, if we didn't agree we wouldn't travel together, would we?" asked Jamie, practical as always.

"I guess so," said Adam, before he realized what she had actually said: travel together. Thinking back to that September afternoon five months ago, when he had suggested to Jamie that he hitchhike with her, he wondered when "hitchhiking" turned to "traveling together."

It took a few moments, but it suddenly hit him that he wasn't even tempted to ask her, and with that realization came another one. It's people that she doesn't question. No, scratch that; she doesn't question people's motives. Reaching idly outside the car, he stretched his fingers. The fading sunlight seemed so solid, Adam wouldn't have been surprised to have ladled some in his palm. So, does that make her trusting or wary?

It made her neither, he decided; it just gave her enough space to be whatever she wanted to be.

With the softest of hums, the roof of the car began to close.

"The sun isn't completely down," he complained.

"It will be in a second, and then the temperature will drop so fast we won't know what hit us," answered Jamie.

"Jamie?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"First day we met, at sunset. Remember?"

There was a few seconds delay, then she said: "I remember. What about?"

"What if I hadn't promised not to ask questions?"

Adam heard her inhaling deeply, watched anxiously as her chest rose and fell. He was frankly terrified that he'd just crossed one of her red lines, and he wasn't going to be pushing her for an answer: should she answer at all, he knew, she would do it in her own time.

"I don't know," she answered, a good few moments after the sun disappeared from view. She sounded mildly surprised. "It might have turned either way." After a short silence, she added: "You wouldn't have been you if you didn't make that promise, would you? And I liked you already at that point."

Adam took a minute to process the question. "Guess you're right," he said finally. "It's just I finally realized how important this trust policy has become to me."

"You think it's trust?" Her voice seemed to convey nothing but detached curiosity, but Adam knew her better by now; she wouldn't have asked if it wasn't extremely important to her. "Or is it distance?"

Her question echoed his thoughts so much that it was hard not to startle. "Maybe space and respect," he offered. "Just letting the other person be, you know?"

She thought it over. "How come you articulate my thoughts better than I do?" she asked.

That took a lot of time to find a decent answer to. "Maybe because," he offered, "I still question more than you do."

Her face was unreadable in the moonlight. He spent a good few moments watching her, but figuring no answer would be coming, switched to watching the desert roll by.

"I'm glad we met," she said. Adam turned his head, glancing at his watch as he did so; it had been fifteen minutes and Jamie was still not looking at him. "I'm glad you asked to hop on."

"Me too," he said sincerely, "And I'm glad you said yes."

A smile crossed Jamie's lips. Small and fleeting as it was, it was what made Adam finally certain that they truly were friends.

"Bless you," said Adam.

"Are you sure hay fever's not catching?" complained Jamie. "Because that was like the twentieth time I sneezed in the last hour!"

"Hay fever's an allergic reaction, it can't be catching," Adam assured her. "Maybe it means that someone is thinking of you."

"No, you're confusing sneezing with hiccupping." She paused for a moment. "Well, at least I'm not hiccupping."

It was the crack of dzwn, and they were making as much conversation as possible, trying to keep alert.

"Do you feel like hot chocolate?" asked Jamie as a gas station came within view.

"Sounds nice," he admitted.

She didn't answer, but pulled right in. They sighed in unison as the engine stopped, and the chattering of birds could be heard.

Adam checked the map as Jamie got out of the car. "That's some distance we covered tonight," he said.

"I always noticed I cover more distance in night rides, rather than day rides," agreed Jamie. She inserted the gas nozzle into the tank. "That's why I'm not doing it very often."

"That, and the fact that when the high of the sunrise wears off…" added Adam.

"Kinda."

They waited in silence until the pump clicked, indicating that the tank was full. Jamie left Adam gazing at the sunrise, and disappeared into the shop. She was back after a moment, with two steaming mugs and a paper bag containing two pretzels. Instead of getting in her seat, though, she stood by Adam's.

"Do you feel like switching?" she asked.

"Switching?"

"In driving," she explained. "I had this nasty dizzy spell just as I entered the shop – I must be more tired than I realized."

"Sure," said Adam, getting up. "Let's switch."

She does look more tired than usual, admitted Adam to himself as he turned the switch. Her offer to let him drive made him both proud, and anxious. On the one hand, he knew how much Jamie loved her car – he'd heard her talking to it once or twice, when she thought no-one was around; on the other, he was worried about her. She was never this pale after any of the other all-nighters they'd pulled.

Oh, knock it off, he told himself as they got back on the road, and he started picking up speed. She's okay. Only reason I never noticed her so pale before was probably because I was too knocked out myself. All-nighters take getting used to, and she's much more used to it than I am.

"We should have done this before," said Jamie, several good minutes into the road.

"We're pulling night rides on a steady basis," he pointed out.

"I mean you driving," she said.

He picked an exit, randomly.

"Things take time," he answered after a while. "At least, important things do."

She, too, took her time before answering. "S'ppose so."

Their conversations were usually slow-paced, nowadays, especially when one of them was tired, and between that and driving for the first time in months he didn't really notice thatalmost an hour had passed.

"It's almost time to pick a town," he said.

She didn't answer.

He dared a look in her direction – good thing they weren't on a highway anymore.

She was asleep; she was too pale.

He pulled over and, very tenderly, put a hand against her forehead.

She was burning.

Her eyes fluttered open. "I'm dizzy," she said.

"You've got a high temperature."

"Probably a bad cold," she said. "I've been feeling off for a few days now. I just need to sleep it off."

And she fell asleep again.

Damn, thought Adam. No way I'm just checking us into a motel with her sick.

That's when it hit him; all the while he was driving, he'd had a strange sense of familiarity. Now, all his senses on high alert, the feeling of deja-vu struck home: he was maybe two hours' drive from Angel Grove.

Having made up his mind, he kicked the engine alive and got on the road again, praying to dear god that everything would work out, and that neither of his friends would fry him alive before it was over.

"Thanks, bro."

"Anytime."

"May I have my ribs back?"

"When I'm through with them." But Rocky released Adam from the bone-crushing hug he had wrapped him with a short moment ago, when Adam stepped out the car. "Let's get her upstairs," he said practically, looking at the pale woman asleep in the passenger seat. "You get her, I'll get the bags."

"You're lucky we close early on Fridays," Rocky told him as he kicked the door open. "Especially with the extra hours I'm pulling while Jason's over in Florida."

"Florida?"

"Visiting Kim."

"She's still down there?"

"And still a gymnast. Guest room on your left. She's got her eyes on the Sydney Olympic team, now."

"Really." Rocky's apartment was small, but it actually did have a guest room. Carefully, Adam laid Jamie on the bed. "I'm really worried about her. It just came out of nowhere…"

"If it came out of nowhere it's probably the flu or some 24-hour bug," said Rocky, dropping down the bags. "Was she coughing?"

"No."

"So it's not pneumonia. Wait a sec, I'll get a thermometer."

They waited in silence until the thermometer beeped.

"100 degrees," said Rocky, checking it. "High, but not dangerous. You guys stayed up all night, right?"

"Yeah."

"So she's probably sleeping more out of tiredness than sickness. How long does she usually sleep after all-nighters?"

"Anything between four and seven hours."

"So let her sleep. You'd better catch a few Z's, too."

"There's no way I…"

"Go sleep, Adam," said Rocky sternly. "I know you well enough to tell that you're tired. I don't have classes before afternoon, so I'll watch over you – both of you – until then, and wake you before I go."

"Thanks," said Adam reluctantly.

"Oh, no you don't," said Rocky, grabbing Adam's arm, as Adam headed for the couch. "My room. It's a mess, but it's still better than the couch. And you can use the bathroom if you want to shower first."

It was a testimony to Adam's fatigue that he hardly argued at all. "Thanks," he said. "And sorry, for busting in like that…"

"Don't mention it," said Rocky firmly. "That's what friends are for."

"I haven't exactly been the best of friends," said Adam quietly.

Somewhat to his surprise, Rocky didn't have to think of an answer: the one he'd given Jason on the many times they argued over the subject was still valid. "I can understand why you had to run off, Adam, and I'm not going to blame you for it. I wouldn't be your friend if I did."

Adam didn't answer; at least, verbally. But he crushed the air out of Rocky in another hug.

Adam sat on the couch, aimlessly changing stations on the television. Rocky had left a couple of hours ago. After he left, Adam sat for a while in the guest room, watching Jamie, until he started worrying that he might disturb her – and feeling a little silly, too. He thought of reading a book, but the only books he could find were cooking books, so he gave up and turned on the television, hoping there was something good on; there wasn't.

At first he wasn't sure if he'd heard right, but there it was again. Good thing he'd turned the volume down, or he wouldn't have even heard the soft rustle of the covers. He got up and entered the room.

"Hi," he said from the doorway, very softly – just in case he'd heard wrong.

"Hi," she answered.

"We're at Rocky's place," he answered before she could ask, moving closer to the bed and sitting on the carpet. "I didn't feel like just checking in at some place…"

She blinked slowly. "I'm not that sick."

"I know. You had 100 degrees earlier. It's not too high, but it's high."

"I'm still not feeling well," she admitted reluctantly, "But I'm starved."

"There's some chicken soup, if you want. Homemade."

"You cook?"

"No, Rocky. He cooked quite a bit during the morning."

She frowned. "What time is it?"

"3 p.m."

"I hate sleeping all day."

"I know. Soup?"

"Only if you're eating, too."

"Sure." He got up and turned to leave, but stopped in the doorway and turned his head. "You are not getting up," he told her.

"Mother hen."

He woke her again in the evening, and again she had some soup and fell asleep. Next time she woke up, though, sunlight was sneaking in through the closed curtains. She couldn't hear anyone moving about, but she felt pretty sure Adam wouldn't have left her there alone. Carefully, she pulled herself up into a sitting position. She stabilized herself for a second, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass – she was feeling better, but not quite herself – and gingerly got to her feet.

It's better to be sick when there's someone to take care of you, she admitted to herself. She wasn't sick much, but she caught bad colds once or twice a year; she usually slept it off for twenty-four hours and woke up with a nasty headache and a growling stomach. Her stomach was still growling, but there was hardly any headache as she wasn't dehydrated and had actually had something to eat in the last twenty-four hours. Maybe Adam had the right idea after all.

She got out of the bedroom, and stopped in her tracks. There was a guy sitting at the kitchen table and reading a newspaper, and it wasn't Adam.

"Hi," said Rocky cheerfully.

"Hi," she answered uncertainly, but still looked as terrified as a lost little girl staring down the snout of a hungry wolf.

I'm not that scary! thought Rocky indignantly, and said, in his friendliest voice: "I'm Rocky."

"Figures. I'm Jamie. Where's Adam?"

"I kicked him out," said Rocky frankly. "I didn't think it was good for him to sit all day, watch you sleep, and fret like a hen."

She was beginning to look less scared, now. "Probably," she admitted. "What time is it?"

"Nine o'clock."

Hearing that it wasn't late in the morning seemed to make her a little less grumpy.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"Yeah," she admitted after a moment. "The fever's over, anyway."

"You probably want to shower and change," said Rocky, catching how she looked down at her rumpled clothes. He got up. "I'll show you the bathroom and where Adam put all your stuff."

"Thanks."

He still had one in the frying pan when she got out of the shower. Her wet hair fell well below her shoulders, and she was looking calmer than before.

She sniffed. "Pancakes?" she asked.

"Adam said you like them. And there's hot chocolate in the pot. No coffee, though."

"How can anyone live without coffee?"

"So I thought, but then I got into business with a partner that won't let me keep coffee in the office. Says it sets a bad example for the kids. We run a dojo," he explained.

"Oh."

He flipped the last of the pancakes onto the pile, and graciously put it on the small table. "Ta-da," he announced proudly, and pulled a chair for her. The courtly gesture only served to make her nervous again, but she sat. He sat across from her.

"Maple, right?" he asked.

"Actually, I feel like chocolate sauce today," she said, shaking her head. "What did Adam not tell you?"

"Mainly he told me what you like to eat and that you don't like to be bugged with questions. I also know that you own a white Firebird that you're quite fond of. That's about it." He put a couple of pancakes on his plate – second breakfast never hurt anyone. "He's not exactly the talkative type."

"I noticed," she said a couple of minutes later; it took Rocky a moment to connect her answer with his earlier comment.

"So, what d'you know about me?"

"That your name is Rocky, you're an old friend of Adam's, you're running a dojo and you have a roommate called Jason."

"Jason and I are running the dojo together, actually."

"Oh."

That concluded their breakfast conversation. Rocky was discovering that Jamie wasn't the talkative type either, especially when feeling uncomfortable; and, while she wasn't as terrified as she had looked when she'd just got up, he felt pretty certain that she was still suspicious of him and had no idea what do to. It didn't help matters that he didn't know what to do either: how do you keep company with someone who doesn't want you to keep her company and is staying at your place?

"You like cartoons?" he asked.

"Not right now."

He bit his lip, thinking. "Got it. Be back in a sec." He fetched something from his room and came back to the living room, smiling triumphantly. "These should entertain you." He dropped the albums next to her on the couch, and waited for her response.

"Photo albums?" she asked skeptically.

"Yeah." His smile was wide and genuine. "I've got loads of them, and they should give you a couple of good laughs."

She didn't even touch the albums. "I don't think I should."

"Yeah, I heard about the 'no pasts' policy you and Adam've been keeping." He looked at her seriously. "And looks like it did you good – it was good for Adam, at any rate. But Jamie, the two of you are practically living together. How long do you think you can keep it up? The old policy is broken already – it broke yesterday morning. Now what?" He tried hard not to wince, not to think – Adam will have my head for this, that's for sure. If she doesn't bite it off first.

Strangely, though, Jamie didn't seem prone to biting his head off. Instead, she frowned.

"You know him better than I do," she said after a while, so quietly he had to strain to hear her. Her hand reached out for the albums, but still didn't touch them. "Do you think he would mind?"

Throwing caution to the wind, he said: "What do you think?"

Her head snapped up. He had no idea what had just happened, but obviously what he said struck a cord in her. The seconds stretched on forever –

Jamie smiled; it was very small, very tired and not very happy, but it was a smile.

"I think I know why he likes you," she said simply. She picked an album and curled on the couch, laying the thick volume on her knees.

Rocky breathed again.

Adam frowned when he came in, in the afternoon. "Hi, Rocko," he said absentmindedly. "She's still asleep?"

"Asleep, but not still. She's been awake most of the day."

"Really? Good."

"We watched cartoons and I browsed through photos."

"Really." Adam's eyebrows shot up.

Rocky recalled Jamie's question. "I'm not sure which of you is more afraid." He relayed to Adam the conversation.

Adam looked skeptical.

"Look, I don't know her half as well as you do, but she's curious. I don't think she'd mind staying in Angel Grove for a couple of days."

"I'm not going to tell her about…"

"Of course not," agreed Rocky.

Adam sighed. "I don't want to lose her," he admitted. "I'm not ready to sit down at a single place yet, but I don't want to travel around alone."

"You're friends, Adam," said Rocky. "Of course you don't want to lose her."

Adam smiled a tiny, lopsided smile. "I was afraid you wouldn't like her, you know?"

Rocky snorted. "Figures," he said. "She's sweet, in a scared kitten sort of a way." Catching Adam's expression, he added, "I mean…"

"That's not what I was going to ask," said Adam quietly, and there was something in his voice that put Rocky on high alert. "I was going to ask how you're so okay with everything."

"Because we're friends," said Rocky matter-of-factly, "And no matter what, I know you."

(5) The Sketchbook

Jamie's temperature went up again that night. Rocky, who slept on the couch, woke when she got up to fetch herself a glass of water. Neither he nor Jamie thought her temperature was high enough to worry about. Adam, woken by the sound of their voices, thought otherwise, and was sent, much to his chagrin, straight back to bed.

The day passed quietly, with Jamie still mostly asleep. When she woke up in the evening, though, she seemed quite all right. Rocky suggested they go out for dinner and both Adam and Jamie agreed; it seemed that they surprised themselves, as well as each other.

The second night passed smoothly. The next morning, as the three sat down for breakfast over bacon and muffins, Rocky noticed, not without a hint of regret, that both his guests were showing signs of restlessness.

"So, what do you guys want to do today?" he asked, though already knowing the answer.

Jamie and Adam exchanged glances.

"I think we'll be heading out again," said Adam. He did not make eye contact with Rocky. "Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome," said Rocky earnestly. "Both of you. Feel free to drop by any time."

"Thanks," said Adam.

"Adam?" asked Jamie suddenly, putting down her buttered muffin. "First day we met, at sunset. Remember?"

"I remember. What about?" answered Adam, not noticing how they echoed their conversation from two and a half days before.

"Could we possibly go visit the Chinese garden?"

Rocky looked between the two – it was hard to tell which was more interesting, the careful neutrality of Jamie's expression – foiled by the anxiety in her widened eyes – or the mild surprise and guarded hope on Adam's face.

"Sure," said Adam.

Jamie smiled.

It was strange watching Jamie in the garden. Or, more accurately, it was strange how Jamie looked and walked about, as if she was trying to commit the place to memory. Two days ago, he would've thought it unnerving. Now, though, he just stood at a distance as she carefully touched this petal and that one.

Scared, Rocky had called them. Desperate, Jamie called it once. Both were true, to an extent, but Adam was still looking for a better word. The need to understand was back, lately. Adam thought he'd put it to rest when he agreed not to ask, on a different day in a different garden, but apparently that was only a reprieve. Adam wasn't particularly happy about it, but the need to dissect any given situation was just that - a need, not something he wanted to do; at least, not anymore. Five months of Jamie had taught him the merit of letting the view roll by.

Jamie was walking towards him now. She halted at a two-foot distance, and nodded. He nodded back, and without a word they started in the direction of the car.

"Rocky said you only moved here halfway through high school," she said.

"Yeah."

Those were the only words they said until noon, when they pulled over for lunch, and even then – they said only what was necessary, and not more. There was only so much space available in the car, and the silence was their way to make up for it: it wasn't entirely comfortable, but it wasn't uncomfortable, either. For a moment Adam was tempted to think that this was just the way things were, but it wasn't, really. It was the way they made it.

They stopped for the night at one random town or the other, and the next day was just another day. It wasn't that Angel Grove was forgotten; rather, it was folded into the fabric of their life as if it had always been a part. Adam found himself mentioning people and anecdotes from his high school days every once in a while; Jamie shared a little of hers, from which he learned that she had gone to a private school; and she and Rocky kept sending each other regards whenever he and Adam were on the phone. Things settled, all in all.

Midnight rolled by and past, and they hadn't yet found a place to stop for the night. They had already resigned themselves to an unplanned all-nighter, but a motel appeared down the road sometime around one in the morning. It was middle-of-nowhere, even by Jamie's standards, but it didn't seem too flea-infested and it charged by the day and not by the hour. It even had two adjacent rooms for them.

He was ten minutes out of the shower when he heard Jamie's door open and then being locked, and the next second there was a knock on his door. He opened the door without asking who it was, certain that it would be Jamie. It was her, all right, in a long loose T-shirt and pants, wet, loose hair falling halfway down her back.

"Were you going to sleep?"

"Not really," he lied. "I was going to watch some TV first."

"Mind if we watch together?"

"Sure." He stepped aside and let her in.

They settled on the carpet, leaning against the bed, and Adam picked a random movie channel. They watched TV together before going to sleep quite often; the only thing unusual about the situation was the hour – and a faint, indefinable air of tension about Jamie. Adam kept watching her out of the corner of his eye. When she pulled her knees against her chest and hugged them he reached out and pulled her close. She leaned against him, but didn't relax or say anything. When Adam next looked at her, though, she was asleep.

He swallowed.

He'd never seen her asleep before, except for when she was sick. Back then he thought that the tired expression was the product of the flu. Now, though, he saw exactly the same expression again: tired, worn-out and lonely. Awake, she seemed his age or younger; asleep, she seemed five years older. His thumb caressed the skin under her eyes, gently, feeling the faint crow's feet hidden by the light tan. Neon was an odd look on her, making her face seem thinner than it actually was. His hand now left her face and moved through her hair, which was still heavy with water.

He'd thought her pretty when she walked into that diner, half a year ago, but stopped noticing as they became friends. Now he saw her as if for the first time again, and thought her beautiful; tired and beautiful. She showed no signs of waking or of stirring, and he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Her soap was honey-scented.

The door to her room was locked – he heard her locking it before – and he was loath to wake her. He looked behind his shoulder, at the bed. It was large enough, and Jamie's clothes were obviously meant to be slept in. Carefully he picked her up and placed her on the bed, straightening her limbs and covering her. She didn't even stir. He found himself sitting on the bed, watching her, instead of lying down to sleep himself. Again his hand was in her hair, and he kissed her temple and tasted her soap again. Soaps didn't usually taste like their scent, did they?

She was still sound asleep. His kisses slid from her temple down her cheekbone, and on a whim he whispered a soft kiss against her lips. He withdrew, his face millimeters away from hers, his heart racing. He should stop now. He had to stop now. He would ruin everything if he didn't stop, because at some point Jamie would wake, and what would she do? But Jamie hadn't woken so far, and by now Adam's blood was roaring in his ears.

Her eyes opened. His lips were still only a breath away from hers. He made to pull back, but Jamie's hand landed softly on his shoulder, barely touching, and he froze in place as she studied his face. What his expression showed – what she saw there – he had no idea, but she neither pulled back nor pushed him away. He counted six full seconds before her touch on his shoulder became heavier and she pulled him down to the bed, to her.

Morning was strange. He woke up feeling satisfied and terrified at the same time, and it took a few moments before he remembered why.

Jamie.

His eyes flew open. She was not in bed. He sat up, halfway to panic, when he noticed the sketchbook on her pillow and the sound of water from the shower – the shower in this room. His shoulders sagged as the panic vanished. He looked again at the sketchbook, then reached out, placed it against his knees and opened it.

Some of the sketches were abstract; others were surprisingly detailed, or detailed in part and sketchy in others. All of them, though, were charcoal, and all of them were devoid of people. There was the rare squirrel or dove, but that was it. He flipped through the pages, curious: what was so important that Jamie would leave it there for him to find first thing in the morning?

He found it almost halfway through the pages: an abstract drawing, nothing too unusual about it – except for the green swirl in the middle of the page. He looked at the bottom of the page – some drawings were dated – and inhaled sharply. It was dated the afternoon of the day he and Jamie had met.

He'd lost himself in the kata… and Jamie had hidden the sketchbook when she saw him look. He'd never seen the sketchbook since, even forgot it existed. Now she had left it for him to find.

He continued to flip through the pages, increasingly curious. The sketches were still charcoal, save for the occasional green; and the ones with green were always abstract. Then he reached the last page, and if the book hadn't been resting against his knees he would've dropped it.

His face looked at him from the page, asleep and angelic. His hand hovered over the page: how long had Jamie been awake to draw this? He didn't dare touch the drawing – there was only one name to the emotion shining through it, and he was scared, because Jamie had to have been feeling like that for a while and he'd never noticed.

Belatedly he realized that the water had stopped running. He raised his eyes and there she was, standing at the door to the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, looking at him. He didn't have to say it out loud – he could read it in the softening of her expression that she had seen it in his. Still, he said it out loud: "I love you, too."

(6) New York

They always made sure to hang out on their own, wherever they happened to be: there was only so much time two people could constantly spend together. Still, as they tended to stop at small towns more often than at cities, they sometimes ran into each other even when not intending to. Usually they smiled, waved and continued on their own. That was why, when Jamie waved him into the internet café, Adam was surprised. Still, he came in.

"Hi," he said, sitting down next to her. "What's up?"

"Talking to Andy." There was an email form on her screen. "She's still bugging me about you."

Andy was Jamie's friend from college. They kept in touch mostly through email, and sometimes through IM if they happened to be online simultaneously – which didn't happen very often.

"We can take a picture on one of the webcams they have here and mail it to her," he suggested.

"Nah." Jamie shook her head. "Crap quality. Besides, it's her birthday in two weeks."

"Really?" She's told him once that she always made sure to visit Andy on her birthday. "Well, at least we're not far from the right coast." He'd figured her to be originally from somewhere in the East Coast sometime along the way.

Her eyebrows went up. "Do you want to know how many coast-to-coast laps we can do in two weeks?"

"Show me next month."

She laughed. They joked about it from time to time but they weren't going to do it – there was no real point in it. "Better enjoy the peace and quiet while we can," she said. "I hate cities."

He couldn't remember when was the last time he was so tempted to ask, but Jamie's nervousness was so painfully obvious that he didn't dare say anything that might sound like a question; and oh, he wanted to. Things had been getting curiouser and curiouser from the moment they'd entered New York City – and even more so from the moment he'd realized that they weren't passing by Central Park as part of a sight-seeing treat but because it was on the way.

The apartment house on Seventh Avenue; Jamie's ID card, which got them into the resident's parking lot and past the doorman in the lobby; the feel of the place, complete with a uniformed elevator operator, the thick blue carpets in the hallways and the plants as tall as he was. By the time they reached the right floor, Adam was thoroughly creeped out.

Then the door at the end of the hallway was thrown open, and a latté-skinned woman who seemed to be all limbs ran towards them, long curls flying everywhere despite of her hair band.

"Oh my god, you're here! You're three days early, I'm so happy!"

She laughed as she all but pounced on Jamie, nearly sending both of them to the carpeted floor, and Adam's uneasiness dissipated. When Andy finally let go of Jamie and turned to him, he knew to expect the hug and he returned it without hesitation.

"You must be Adam." She pulled back for a moment, surveying him with pursed lips. The amusement in her eyes was obvious as she remarked: "Good taste, Jamie."

"Embarrass both my boyfriend and me in public, why don't you."

"But this isn't 'in public', Jamie. This is home."

"This is not 'home'." Jamie gave their surrounding a clear look of dislike. "Home is where the heart is, isn't that how it goes?"

"Well then, in that case," Andy picked up Jamie's bag and swatted away her friend's hand, "You're most definitely home. Come on in, you two, and I'll see what I can whip up from the kitchen. And don't you dare say anything about pizza."

They arrived on Tuesday night, and between Andy's strange work hours and Jamie dragging him around doing what she called "Ridiculous tourist stuff" – which was not at all ridiculous and which he thoroughly enjoyed – he barely saw Andy at all.

He woke up quite early on Saturday morning: the light sifting in through the windows faint and grey. He stayed in bed, dozing on and off and watching Jamie sleep, until the light turned golden and the distinct smell of frying bacon wafted in through the closed door. He got up carefully – Jamie was a light sleeper – and went over to the kitchen.

After three days, Adam's reaction to the spacious apartment mellowed from near-panic to heavy discomfort. Black leather and glass, whoever had furnished the place was into early twentieth century Modern design and had had too much money on their hands. Adam was pretty sure that Andy wasn't that person. Notes taped to every possible surface, colourful stress balls under every foot, five wicker baskets overflowing with newspapers and a ludicrous orange-and-red scarf tossed over one of the Barcelona chairs – those were Andy's footprint.

She was standing in the eerily streamlined marble kitchen, staring at the frying pan with absolute concentration.

"Morning," he said, shuffling in.

"Morning," she said, not raising her eyes from the bacon and eggs. "Coffee should be ready."

"Thanks." There was a percolator standing next to the futuristic espresso machine. He poured himself a cup, fetched the milk from the fridge and added a sprinkle of cinnamon from the shaker.

"It's not too late to say you want bacon for breakfast."

"Hm." Usually he wasn't in favour of greasy stuff, but that day he had waked up hungry. "Why not."

"Good. Feel free to set the table, food'll be ready in a minute."

"You know," he said as he set plates on the table and figured out where the pitchers were hiding, "this is so surreal."

"What is?"

He shrugged. "This place. Being in this place. You and this place. I mean, no offence, but…"

He expected all sorts of reactions, but laughter wasn't one of them. Andy laid down the spatula and considered him with that amused, speculative glance he was already familiar with. "None taken. Jamie hadn't changed a bit, huh?" She picked up the spatula and returned her attention to the frying pan, shaking her head. "Girl never was the talkative sort." She gave him a sidelong glance. "And either you're of the same sort or she has you trained well."

"Same sort, thanks," he said dryly.

A long moment passed in silence.

"We were roommates in college," said Andy. "Freshman year, Columbia U. I hated her at first. Snotty wasp too good for the Plainfields girl, huh?" Andy shook her head. "Until I came in and found her crying over having to go home for Christmas break, and she thought I'd hate her more for having seen her cry. So I sat her down and gave her a piece of my mind, and we were friends ever since." She turned off the halogen stove and poured their breakfast onto a serving plate. "You set that table? Good." She carried the food over and they both sat down. "Dig in."

A couple of minutes later, he asked. "Why didn't she…?"

"Guess she doesn't like this place either."

Adam choked but managed to put the glass down without spattering juice all over. He looked around at the expanse of glass, metal and leather. "What – her family lived here? But what – "

"Yeah," said Andy. She bit viciously into her bacon. "Mom was a partner at a big litigation firm, dad had real estate all over the city and little Jennifer Amelia Morgen was raised by a series of nannies who kept changing every two months so that she won't get more attached to them then to her parents." She swallowed and put down her fork. "Six years and I still get pissed off thinking about those rich bastards."

Adam raised his eyebrows, but all he asked was: "Jennifer Amelia?"

"Well, I wasn't going to say Jennifer Amelia all the time! Would you believe nobody ever bothered to give that girl a nickname? So she was Jen Amy to me right from the start. She shortened it to Jamie that summer. Still Before."

She expected him to ask, so he did. The answer, though, came from the corridor leading to the rooms.

"Before the car accident." Jamie padded over, looking younger and as tired as ever in her kitten-patterned pajamas. She sat down next to Adam, stole his fork and proceeded to steal his breakfast. "February, New York, blink and you missed it. He died on the spot, she died five days later in the hospital. It got me out."

"Dropped out of school," Andy elaborated. "Took care of all the money stuff, and – "

"Ugh, that was the worst part of it."

"Yeah, that was when I moved in. This crazy girl, she wanted to sell this place."

"Like I'd ever want to live here."

"You could always rent it out like the other dozen places."

"Or if you like this place so much, you can live here."

"We have this argument every year," Andy informed him. "Tradition." She pushed herself up. "And I'll get you another fork. She'll eat off of your plate anyway."

Jamie made a face at her. "Where are we having your birthday lunch? Please don't say Balthazar."

"What's Balthazar?"

"It's a bistro," Jamie told him. "An annoyingly over-hyped one, and I don't care how good the food is."

"Les Halles," said Andy, back with another fork which she handed to Adam.

"What?" asked Jamie.

"New place at Park Avenue. Bistro also. It's not Balthazar but it's good enough, and you'll love their attitude – they do the French thing all wrong."

"Hmpf."

Andy headed out again in the afternoon, loudly complaining about having to work weekends. Considering that her assignment was a gallery opening, Adam informed her that he still thought the Features department to be a cool job. She blew a raspberry at him and sauntered out.

The apartment was quiet. Jamie had curled up with a book and Adam didn't want to disturb her. Nothing in the bookcase or the movie collection caught his eye, and Andy's magazines amused him only for so long. After half an hour he got up and gave himself the dime tour.

Andy had shown him around the night they arrived, while Jamie worked the espresso machine and loudly complained about hating the place. That scene had a different spin, now that he knew that this was where Jamie had grown up. Left to himself he prowled the place, looking for the hints of what had been removed or altered rather than added, imagining what this place had been like when a couple and a girl had lived here.

There were small marks on the wall where artwork used to hang. There was artwork now also, but that was Andy's choice. The Delft vases and plates, though, were probably a leftover from Jamie's parents that Andy liked enough to keep. The silk tree-of-life rug on the wall that Adam admired for fifteen minutes was another heirloom, but the rugs on the floor were Andy's taste.

He couldn't make up his mind about the menagerie. It occupied three shelves in a glass cabinet that was definitely from Jamie's parents' time. Adam knew enough to appreciate the smooth round lines and the details on the ivory and gem figures, but the collection didn't quite gel with the feel of the place. If he tried to imagine the collection in its glass case, the other shelves occupied by fancy porcelain or silver, different art on the walls and the room meticulously clean like it must have been, then the animals carefully arranged on their shelves seemed as lonely and out of place as young Jennifer Amelia must have been.

"These were mine."

He was so absorbed that he hadn't noticed her coming up behind him. She was slightly hunched, hugging her own shoulders, and he pulled her to him instinctively. She relaxed against him.

"These are mine," she repeated. "My mom had these two elephants – " The two gem-embedded figurines were indeed different from the rest " – and I had always adored them. The rest were always my choice, and I'd get my parents to get them for me whenever I could."

"They're beautiful," he said sincerely.

She leaned against him a little more. "I kind of banked on her to tell you. I didn't know where to start. I figured – kind of the same way, except without the flu."

That had taken a bit of deciphering but he was already used to her. "Kind of. Enough that I don't ever want to see those two in the same room."

"God forbid. Only if you and I are on the other side of the pond."

"I'm not tired of this side yet."

"Maybe one day."

He had no idea what to say to that, so he said nothing.

(7) Everybody Runs

"There's a date for the get-together."

"Huh?"

"The get-together. You missed it last year. It was two weeks after…" Rocky's voice faltered.

The get-together. Suddenly, Adam remembered. He leaned against the wall, breath shaky. That's how it started. He had almost forgotten – all that excitement, the planning that started months in advance… He had enjoyed it too, at first, until one day it felt as if the walls were closing in on him. It came and went, that feeling, until it wouldn't go away anymore. That was when Adam himself up and went.

"Adam? You still with me?"

"What? Yes, I – you were saying?"

"O-kay." Rocky's voice was cautious. "I just said, Kat's parents are on a family visit Down Under so we get to use the house, which totally rocks. Dining room big enough for everyone and spare rooms if needed."

"Jamie may want a motel anyway."

"Yeah, I thought you might say that."

Only then did Adam's own words register with him. He'd said that automatically, because he knew Jamie would not want to stay for a few days at somebody's house if she had an alternative, and only when Rocky accepted that did Adam realize what it could mean. It wouldn't be drowning if he was with Jamie, who wasn't part of that mythology.

"You're coming, then?" Rocky sounded relieved. "I wasn't sure if you'd want to come. You've only been here once this past year and you hadn't spoken to anyone else at all."

Did he want to come? Yes, he did – he had never wanted to burn bridges, as much as he needed Out. "Yes, we're coming," he told Rocky.

Pause.

"I just hope nobody will say anything they're not supposed to, y'know? But somebody was bound to bring home an outsider at some point. You're just the first, that's all."

Adam could see that – Jamie, with her overdeveloped social sensitivity, the only civilian in a room full of Rangers. "Yeah, it should be interesting," he agreed. "But I can't leave her behind and I won't stay away, so we'll just have to handle it. What did you say the date was, again?"

Rocky told him, and Adam committed it to memory. "I'll see you then, I guess."

"See you then."

They had come down from the mountains a few hours ago. The plains stretched in every direction, wide and open. Adam fiddled with the radio dial, trying to find something decent. Tapes were nice, but he could use something new every once in a while. He was almost about to skip to the next channel – this one had some kind of power ballad, and okay, the singer had a good alto but – the voice registered and Adam's hand dropped from the dial. He knew that voice. He'd know that voice everywhere, like he knew his own.

Jamie gave him a cursory look – didn't think it was your style – but said nothing.

Tanya's voice cried out through the speakers.

"It doesn't end, baby, you know it doesn't
I still look out for you in the dark
It doesn't end, you know it baby,
This night has not ended since you're gone."

The song lapsed into coda and still Adam did not change the station.

"Aaaand you are all probably wondering who does this awesome voice belong to?" said the radio host. "Well, this song was The Long Night, and the singer was Tanya Sloan. You heard her here first. And, we have Tanya here in the studio with us. Hi, Tanya!"

Adam's fingers dug into the upholstery.

"Adam?" asked Jamie. Just the one word – it had been so long since they needed more.

"I know her," he said, and it was as if his voice came from somewhere more distant than the radio studio Tanya was sitting in. He was hearing Tanya, and this was happening now.

The radio interview went on.

"Yes, this song is about a real person. About one year ago, my boyfriend left me. We had been together for about two years, then, and there was no warning. I didn't know anything was wrong. He just left, and for a long time that was all I knew."

Jamie reached sharply and turned off the radio. Adam said nothing.

Things froze, with nothing said and no distractions. He dared look at her once or twice but she was looking at the road. If she looked sideways to him, he missed it.

Fifty miles later, she spoke.

"Was that you?"

He dragged the word up from the pit his heart had fallen into. "Yes."

"In the song. The one she wrote about."

The one who'd left with no warning or explanation. "Yes." The photo albums Rocky had shown her, all those months ago – how much had he said? How much did Jamie know? Could she match a face to the name and the story from the radio? Did she remember Adam and Tanya together in every photo, always leaning against each other or touching? How had Rocky explained that? Adam hadn't thought to ask, before.

Twenty more miles, and then: "What happened?"

He had no words. How could he explain it? She'd been a Ranger, too. That was all there was to it – that was what had driven him out and away from anything he had known before. Rocky understood that. Perhaps even Tanya did, to judge by the lyrics. Only a Ranger would understand the message she'd sent out. His insides twisted and knotted at the thought of what he'd put Tanya through – the way he just left, having had to cut and run or else the walls would come down on him, to never once look back and even with Jamie by his side he only barely dared touch ground again.

It was another twenty miles before he said: "If it was only my secret to keep I'd tell you."

He went for a pay phone the first chance he got. The voice that answered him at the dojo wasn't Rocky's.

"Hello?" asked again the person on the other side. "Anybody there?"

Adam swallowed. "Hi, Jason."

"Adam!" It was almost possible to hear Jason straightening. "How are you? Everything all right?"

"Yes. Sort of."

"What's the matter? You will be here in two day's time, right?"

"Yeah, yes. It should be fine."

"Rocky's with a class right now. I could get him for you if it's urgent." Jason knew that Adam wasn't usually next to a phone.

But he'd need Jason's cooperation, anyway. He'd need them all.

"We were listening to the radio a couple of hours ago," Adam said. "We caught an interview Tanya had, and the song that opened it."

There was a pause, and then Jason said: "I listened to the same program. I know that song. Damn, man. I'm sorry."

"So am I," said Adam, very quietly. He didn't even know if Jason heard him.

"We had a rough couple of months there with her, I won't tell you we didn't. But she came out all right. She gets it, man, we all do. Rocky had to kick some of us in the head, but – there won't be any trouble on Friday night, if that's what you're worried about."

"It isn't," said Adam. He hesitated. "It's Jamie," he said finally.

Jason waited. Rocky wouldn't have had the patience until Adam found the words, but maybe Rocky wouldn't have needed him to.

"She wants to know what happened," said Adam slowly. "It scared her. That I just… walked away. I don't know how to explain – "

"Yeah," said Jason quietly.

"I have to tell her, Jase." Adam swallowed again. "I can't explain it to her otherwise and – god, Jase, I don't want to lose her. I can't."

There was a very long pause. Adam gave Jason his time.

"Everyone will have to agree," said Jason finally, speaking very slowly. "It has to be unanimous, Adam; and you have to be sure. You have to be sure it's her. I'd rather we don't go through this more times than is absolutely necessary."

"Yes."

"We talked about it, you know. After you. Kind of realized most of us would end up with Others. Nobody wants to live with a secret like that between them and the person they'll spend their lives with. But it has to be unanimous, and no one will make up their mind before meeting her."

"I understand that."

"Friday night, Adam. I'll talk to the guys."

"Thanks, Jason. Really. Thank you."

"No problem, Adam." It even seemed that Jason had meant it. But Jason had always been First among them, and apparently this, too, was included by his sense of duty.

"Jason? I'm sorry. I really am."

There was a pause, and then Jason sighed. "I know, man. It's going to be all right, really."

Adam looked over at where Jamie was sitting in the car, not looking at him. "I hope so."

The jade frog looked at him from the bedside drawers. He'd found it in his bag after they left New York, wrapped up in paper and a large cotton scarf. Jamie had hidden it there, not wanting to hear an argument. He'd liked it, she said, and it wasn't glass; it could travel, if they'd be careful; and it would be nice to have it with them.

He caved.

The bathroom door opened and Jamie came into the room. He hadn't noticed how much green and grey she wore nowadays. She hadn't worn those colours much when he'd met her. He looked from her pale green shirt to the jade figurine and back again. "It looks good on you," he said.

"Thanks."

His hand was still on the figurine.

"There's a story behind it," he told her, looking down at the jade frog. "Maybe tonight you'll get to hear it."

She came over and stood beside him. "I once said I don't ask questions."

He turned his face up and looked her in the eye. "It has to end somewhere," he told her. "It doesn't go beyond a certain point."

"I know," she said quietly.

"Jamie?"

"Yeah?"

"Why green?"

She looked at him for a long moment, tilted her head to the side, and then shrugged. "It goes with you."

Kat had put candles leading from the garden gate to the front door. The Hillard house hadn't changed much, though the bushes had grown. Rocky came out to meet them, and following close behind him –

"Aisha!"

"You didn't think I'd miss this, did you?"

He hadn't seen Aisha in years. He'd forgotten how much he missed her – how much he'd missed the three of them together like they grew up. For fifteen, maybe twenty seconds he was home; then he reached for Jamie's hand, holding tightly.

Jamie squeezed back just as hard as they walked into the house and the whole party turned on them with cheers and smiles and slaps on the back. They couldn't keep holding hands under the tidal wave of welcome but he stayed as close to her as he could, and he wasn't sure which of them he was trying to comfort.

Thank goodness for Kat's easy charm and Jamie's instinctive high-society manners.

Then he spotted Tanya. Kat positioned herself between them, and there was wariness behind her smile. Rocky was less subtle, standing behind Adam with a frown on his face.

"Hey, Adam."

"Hey, Tanya."

Pause.

"You look good," she said awkwardly. "Whatever you've been doing, it agrees with you."

"Thanks," he answered. He was still breaking Jamie's fingers, but her grip was not as strong, now. "Heard one of your songs," he said. His cheeks were burning. "You sound real great."

"Thanks," she said.

He wasn't sure how to interpret that expression.

"You know I wrote it just After, right?" she said abruptly. "I mean – it's not like – "

"I'm sorry," he said, quickly, before she could get anything else in. "I'm sorry. For what it's worth."

That was a look he could interpret, and later he'd breathe a little easier for it. "I know," she said quietly. "I understand. For what it's worth."

Jamie was looking between them, and Adam forced himself to meet her eyes. She could tell how much was not being said, he was pretty sure of that. I'm sorry, he thought at her.

"Come on, Tanya," said Kat abruptly. "I could use a hand in the kitchen. Or you could join Kim's little improvised press party. She could use a rescue."

"Nah, I think she's enjoying it. What do you need done?"

"Hey," called Tommy from the buffet table. "You two want a drink?"

Jason was standing right next to him, arms crossed. Adam, who knew an interview panel when he saw one, sighed and dragged Jamie over.

By the time they made it to dessert and moved the party to the back yard, Adam was grateful for the two bottles of white wine Kat and Jason had stashed in the fridge. Tommy protested, of course, on the basis of everyone being underage. Between half the party informing him he was the only one who cared, Jason pointing out that between twelve people it was hardly a substantial amount and Kat's frown, though, he gave up.

When the last of the truffles had been consumed and Kat made the offering of coffee and a second dessert, Jason stopped her. Then he leaned forward in the garden chair. "All right, guys," he said, looking seriously at the circle. "I think we're all voting 'for'?"

"Or you wouldn't say it out loud, Jason," said Trini after a moment.

"Can't hurt to make sure," said Jason. "Especially as it's the first time we're doing this." He passed his eyes across the circle, looking for a nod or a "Yeah" or a different sign of approval from each of the Rangers. Then he looked at Adam. "Your stage," he said neutrally.

Adam looked down. The surreal nature of the situation finally caught up with him. He bit his lip and looked up again, meeting Jamie's eyes.

"Have you ever heard of Power Rangers?" he asked, hesitantly, after a few seconds.

"Yes," she answered after another pause. "Something California? And I think something with – " She made a face. "Aliens maybe? Wasn't that a TV show?"

There was a round of chuckles and snorts.

"Not exactly," said Adam.

"I'll go get my scrapbook," said Trini. "Hold on a moment."

She returned holding a stack of scrapbooks, not just one. She dragged her chair over to Adam and Jamie, sat down and opened the top one. The headlines looked up at them, the photos screaming.

"Not exactly a TV show," said Trini patiently, "Though I think we hoped it was. Not all of us knew what to do, when it started."

"You mean Jase was the only one who wasn't going to turn and run," said Kim wryly.

"Hey, at least none of us complained about our hair!" objected Zack to the sound of general laughter.

Jamie took the scrapbook from Trini, flipped a few pages. She raised her eyes and blinked. "I don't understand."

"An alien force attempted to attack Earth," said Trini, gentle as always. "The Power Rangers – "

"I get that," interrupted Jamie impatiently. "What does that have to do with – "

"I'm a Power Ranger, Jamie. We all are."

She stared at him.

"Your zeonizer would still work," said Tommy quietly after a long moment.

Adam swallowed. Sitting was awkward, but he suspected that standing up would be even more so.

He brought down his arms. "Zeo Ranger four, green."

He demorphed again.

Oddly, Tanya was the one who picked up the narrative. "It's a pretty big secret," she said. "We're not supposed to tell. When people found out accidentally…"

"Or after being kidnapped by evil overlords," said Aisha dryly.

"Or after being kidnapped by evil overlords," agreed Tanya, "They were always sworn to silence. But we agreed on this for Adam, because some things just don't make sense otherwise."

"We were together as Rangers," said Adam quietly, "And for almost a year afterwards. Then…"

"Everybody runs," said Kim, matter-of-factly. "Some of us need to total a relationship before figuring out who we are, except for Rangers."

This prompted a round of painful laughter.

"Oh, god, yes," said Tanya. "Adam wasn't very classy about it but he was better than you, definitely. A letter!"

"We're alltolder now and he'd always been wiser," said Kim.

"And it ended well," said Tommy. "Took a while, but…" He smiled tenderly at Kat.

Kat blushed and looked down at her hand, which was sporting a diamond ring that hadn't been there the year before.

Jamie was still staring at him. Then, abruptly, she got up, went inside, grabbed her keys and was out the door before Adam had so much as made it to the French doors leading from the yard to the house.

Tommy put his hand on Adam's shoulder. "That's a heck of a lot to think about, man," he said. "Give her time."

Kat brought out coffee and an apple pie, and they spent the first hour still in the yard. Kim was the first to leave, tiredness and some remaining jet lag. Billy left with her. Zack was next, then Trini and after her Tanya.

Another hour passed. Adam dragged a chair next to the window looking out to the road and Aisha brought a pot of tea, saying he'd had enough coffee. Rocky brought two more chairs.

Kat brought the second pot of tea. Aisha was about to get a third when Adam jumped to his feet. There were headlights coming down the street, and in the stillness of the late – or early – hour he could recognize the sound of an engine that was as familiar to him as his heartbeat.

Rocky shouted

There was a white Firebird drawing closer.

Adam ran out the door and was by the sidewalk before the Firebird pulled up in front of the house.

Rocky shouted for Tommy, Kat and Jason to get there.

Jamie left the headlights on when she got out of the car. Standing by the open door the four of them couldn't hear what was being said, but they could see lips moving, tense postures –

The roof was rolled down, which Jamie almost never did after nightfall. She jumped out of the car, leaving the key in the ignition and all, and she spoke so fast that he couldn't understand a word. She tried again and still spoke fast enough that his brain took a few seconds to separate the words.

"Willyoumarryme?"

When he did he laughed, barely daring to believe.

There hadn't been another half a second of fright. When he opened his arms she stepped right in, not complaining as he held her as close and as tightly as he could.

"Yes," he whispered as his tears fell into her hair. He dared open just enough distance to manage a kiss, then whispered again against her skin, "Yes."

"I'm traveling in some vehicle
Sitting in some café
A defector from the petty wars
Until love sucks me back that way"