A/N: An attempt at an RPM fic. Hope you all like it, as always any comments are welcome.

Legal: I do not own Power Rangers or the associated names, characters, events, places etc. Anything not covered by the above rights should be considered purely the creation of the author.

Rating: T for adult content, and scenes of violence.

Scott groaned loudly as Summer sank the black ball, annihilating him in their fourth straight game of pool. The bar on the RPM base was always busy at this time of the day. The majority of the staff on site had finished with their shifts, and were busy relaxing after another long day protecting the people of Corinth.

"You know maybe you should start taking lessons." Summer suggested as she put her cue away on the rack. "Maybe then you'll sink more than three balls before I slaughter you."

"Hey, I stopped trying to beat you months ago." Scott told her, racking away his own cue. "Just because you're a hustler, don't expect me to worry about it."

"You know to hustle; technically I'd need to gamble on the outcome of the game." Summer reminded him as they rejoined their friends at the table in the corner. Dillon and Flynn were sitting with an extensive collection of beer bottles, while Ziggy kept score. Flynn's cheeks were a little red by now, as the beer took effect, while Dillon seemed to be as fresh as a daisy. Summer and Scott sat down with them.

"What's happening here?" Scott asked him in a small laugh, seeing that Flynn was having fun, but was clearly a little drunk.

"Dillon bet Flynn he could match him drink for drink." Ziggy told them, holding up a stack of credits. "I'm holding the money."

Summer sat beside Dillon, pulling in close to him and whispering something in his ear. He blushed a little and spat the beer back into the bottle. Flynn put down his bottle and looked at her curiously.

"What was that all about?" He asked her.

"Ziggy, give him back his money." Summer warned him with a small giggle. "This bet's off."

"But Dillon's storming ahead!" Ziggy complained, clutching the credits defensively. "Flynn's about to lose."

"The bet's off." Dillon sighed, putting down his last bottle. "Summer told me if I didn't tell him, then she would."

"Tell me what?" Flynn asked him.

"My digestive tract isn't part of my biological systems." Dillon told him. "The alcohol never gets into my bloodstream."

"So you can't get drunk?" Flynn asked, seeming to take the joke at his expense quite well.

"I'd drown long before that happened." He responded. "Sorry Flynn, I couldn't resist."

"Well, what can I say?" Flynn laughed as he got up from the table. "I guess it's a pretty good joke."

"Where are you going?" Scott asked him.

"I think I've made enough of an arse of myself for one night." He told them. "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get some sleep. We all have training early tomorrow."

"I think I should be going too." Ziggy told them, realising he was still holding the credits. "I should make sure he gets his money back."

"I think we should BOTH make sure he gets his money back." Scott interjected, placing a hand on Ziggy's shoulder and giving him a little glare. He kind of suspected that he might try to use Flynn's lapse in memory to get away with the credits after all. "We'll see you guys tomorrow."

"I'm not really that tired. I'd like to stick around for a while." Summer told them. "I'll see you guys tomorrow for training."

Dillon shifted a little closer to Summer as the others left. Of all the Rangers, he felt closest to her. She had been the one who had brought him into the group when he first arrived in Corinth. She had stood up for him after the Venjix technology had been discovered in his body. Even when he had tried to leave shortly after they had released him from prison, she had seen something in him. Only she had given him a chance and had faith in him, and it was the reason he liked her so much. She understood him in a way that the others didn't. So far she hadn't shared much of herself with him, but half the fun was finding out for himself. He handed her a beer bottle.

"We still have a couple of these to go." He told her. Summer smiled at him.

"You wouldn't be trying to get me drunk would you?" She asked him playfully. She and Dillon had identified with each other a lot since they had met. She had never been one to follow protocol or rules too religiously, and had a feeling that he was a lot like her.

They both had a certain headstrong, slightly confrontational air to them. It was because she could see the same defensive nature in him that she had herself, that she just knew there was more to him than a bunch of Venjix technology. The fact that he had saved her life in battle only minutes after meeting her had made her certain about her assessment that he was someone worth trusting, and he had proven himself to the others in their first battle together. Despite his attempt to leave Corinth, he had turned back when he found out they had needed his help. Despite his reservations, he would do the right thing in the end.

Summer had always been a good judge of character, and had seen a lot of good in him. Not only had he saved her from an ambush only moments after his arrival in the city, he seemed to have saved Ziggy, a guy he owed nothing to, on more than one occasion. The fact that he had technology belonging to the same system that was trying to destroy humanity meant nothing to her. She could see that he had a sense of right and wrong, and that made him human to her.

"What if I am?" He asked her. "I think it would be kind of interesting to see you cut loose."

"What are you talking about?" She asked him. She looked more than a little irritated by this statement, almost as if he had given her some kind of grave insult. She had always prided herself on being a little rebellious and carefree. Since private ownership of vehicles was practically non-existent on Corinth, nothing made her happier than having some spare time to blast through the virtually-deserted streets of the city on her motorcycle. "I cut loose all the time. You've gone on rides with me on the bike..."

"Of course I ride pillion." He interrupted her, shifting position on the seat to look directly into her eyes. "You would never give up control."

"It's my bike." She stated flatly, taking a sip. "I don't want it to get damaged."

"But I can ride." He told her. "I wouldn't damage it, you've seen me ride any time you leant it to me." He picked up a bottle himself and took a long sip, before moving closer.

"The only time you don't want to let me take the handlebars is when we're both on the bike." He told her. "That would mean giving up control and you don't like that. Even if it is to someone you trust like me."

She hated when he did this. For as long as she'd known him, she had been trying to get him to let down his walls and figure him out, to see what made him tick, and while she knew there was limitations on how much she could figure out because so much of his memory was lost to him, she still tried to get a handle on him and what was important to him.

Unfortunately, he seemed to be good at deflecting, and reversing the situation. He was able to start digging around and analysing her in the same way. She looked away for a second. There was something about his eyes, the way he looked at her that gave her the impression he could see right through her. It drove her nuts that he was able to do that, to turn the tables on her. It was even more infuriating that he seemed to be better at it than her. He was right; she had a lot of issues with being in control. She wasn't comfortable when she was relying on someone else to control her fate.

"I'm not a control freak." She protested, sinking the bottle in one go.

"Sure you're not." He laughed, finishing his own drink. He was repaid with a hard punch on the shoulder.

"What about you? You never give up control." She replied. "When you're riding pillion, I can feel how nervous you are in your grip."

"That's because I am a control freak." He replied, as he got up from the table. "Anyway, it's getting late. We should be heading back."

At that point a couple of guys came over to the table carrying pool cues.

"We saw you schooling that guy on the table earlier." One of them said to Summer extending a hand. "Would you like a game?"

Dillon gave her a little look, trying to gauge her reaction. These guys were clearly checking her out, he had noticed them watching her when she was playing with Scott, talking and laughing with each other. He could guess what their interest was, but he was sure they would be disappointed. If they thought she was going to be an easy mark, they were in for a shock. She was a good officer, and had seen just about every scam going. She wasn't likely to fall for a hustle, and she wasn't the kind of girl to just go with guys in bars without knowing them. He was sure she would say...

"OK." She answered, taking his hand and getting up, casting a little glance to Dillon. He wasn't sure what had happened, or what she was thinking. He got up with her.

"You know, we have training early tomorrow." He reminded her, taking her wrist in his hand. "We should be..."

"Well if you want to go home, don't let me stop you." Summer interrupted him. She went over to the pool table with the two strangers, joining their friend. She cast a little glance backward, catching a glimpse of the look on Dillon's face and got a little smirk to herself. She had surprised him with that little move. She knew the guys at the pool table were likely going to try their luck with her, but she wasn't interested. All she wanted was to show Dillon that he was wrong about her, and that she could let herself go. As she accepted a beer from one of them, she saw Dillon leaving. She got another little smirk to herself as she picked up a cue and took a long swig of beer. He wouldn't be calling her a control freak again anytime soon. Not when he was the one trying to dictate when they went home.

The next morning, Summer woke up, feeling sicker than she ever had in her life. It was like the worst hangover she had ever suffered, only so much harsher. Even the small amount of light coming in the gap between the curtains hurt her eyes. Her head was pounding, and she felt ill to her stomach. She had an incredible case of cotton-mouth.

As she raised her hand to her face, she realised that someone was in the bed next to her. It was then that she realised that she was not in her own apartment. She held her hand over her eyes, unable to believe what had happened. How could she have been so stupid? She had heard all the stories so many times; she couldn't believe she had been caught out like that.

She couldn't remember anything about the night beforehand. She remembered being upset that Dillon had made fun of her for being a control freak, and had met up with those three guys for a game of pool to prove him wrong. Well she had done that alright, and it might have cost her a lot more than she bargained for.

She remembered vaguely feeling light-headed and dizzy. She could remember feeling an arm around her, holding her upright. She now knew what had happened, she had been drugged. One of them must have put something in her drink.

She pulled her hand off her face, and got the biggest shock of her life. She stared at it in disbelief as she realised her hand was covered in blood. Throwing back the covers, she found her clothes were torn, and barely hanging on her body and she was covered in cuts, bruises and blood. So much that it could not possibly all have been hers. She grabbed the guy on the bed next to her and turned him over, and her heart beat faster. He was covered in blood, and a knife had been rammed into his ribcage. His glassy, lifeless eyes chilled her as she looked into them. It was one of the guys she had met up with last night.

She got off the bed and backed away from the scene of carnage in the bed. She stumbled as she tripped up and fell to the floor. She looked over to see that she had tripped over another of the guys from the bar. He seemed to be in an even worse state than the guy in the bed. She looked up and saw the third guy a short way from the bathroom.

"Somebody help me!" She screamed, retreating into the corner in her horror. There was blood everywhere, it was the only thing she could see, and the only thing she could smell. "Help me!"

She heard a pounding on the door, and recoiled in fear. She heard an energy blast, at which the door came crashing in, completely obliterated by a blaster. Law enforcement officers piled into the room, covering it with their weapons. One of them pointed a blaster straight at her, and her heart froze as she realised what it looked like. The room was full of corpses; she was injured and had clearly been in a fight of some description.

"Get your hands where I can see them!" The officer pointing the gun at her demanded aggressively. "Name!"

"S...Summer Landsdown." She stammered, beginning to reach for her pocket to get her ID.

"Keep your hands UP!" The officer screamed a little more forcefully. She put her hands above her head as she was told. "ID?"

"It's in my pocket." She told him. One of the officers fished it out, reading it.

"RPM." He told the officer with the gun. "I knew I recognised her."

"Face the wall!" He demanded. Summer turned around, placing her hands against the wall. "Spread them!"

Summer felt a few warm tears running down her face as she did what she was told. She had no idea who these men were, or where she was, much less why they had been killed. She only knew one thing for sure. Right now she was their main suspect. One of the officers ran his hands quickly over her, searching what was left of her clothing for any signs of a weapon, and seemed to satisfy himself that she had none. He forced her against the wall and snatched her hands behind her back, snapping them into a set of handcuffs.

"One of the neighbours heard a commotion in here and called us." He told her. "Summer Landsdown, you are under arrest."

Back at the RPM base, the others were busy training. Flynn took a seat on the sidelines, taking a breather. Dillon came over to him.

"Where's Summer?" He asked him. "She's never late for training."

"I haven't seen her since I went home last night." Flynn replied, looking slightly worried. All of them had been thinking much the same thing; Summer always took her responsibilities with the team very seriously, and was never late. "I thought she was with you."

"I went home a while after you left." Dillon told him. "We had kind of a stupid fight."

"Another one?" Flynn laughed, smacking him in the chest. "If you two keep this up we'll all be convinced you're into each other."

"I kind of called her a control freak." Dillon explained, ignoring Flynn's remark. He had been teasing Dillon about Summer now for a while; he was convinced they liked each other. Dillon just thought he had read too many romance novels. "She was still at the bar after I left."

"Well there you go then!" Flynn told him. "She was probably just trying to prove she wasn't. I'll bet you that right now she's at home in her apartment nursing a huge hangover."

One of the cadets came into the room, finding the team there and rushed over, almost tripping over his own feet as he ran over to Scott, saluting him.

"What's the problem cadet?" Scott greeted him. The cadet caught his breath before beginning.

"The General wanted me to keep you informed. None of you are to go to custody until further notice." He told them.

"Why not?" Flynn asked him. "What's going on?"

"Summer was arrested." He informed them. "The general said that you're not to be involved in the case."

"What's the charge?" Ziggy asked him. The cadet looked at him, his eyes betraying the seriousness of the situation.

"Three counts of homicide." He replied. "They're interviewing her as we speak."