Disclaimer: No! No! I won't do it! I own the Rangers. They're mine! Mine, I tell you! What? What do you mean I don't? I paid that guy ten whole bucks for them! Really? I don't own them? Awwwwwww…..I want my money back!
You can read the first two hundred stories in "When Rangers Meet," "More of When Rangers Meet," "Headquarters Where Rangers Meet," and "Those Rangers Just Keep on Meeting.
This is story number fifty.
Reviews are greatly appreciated. Honest, they are.
Alex and Wes
By
Eileen (Psycho Tangerine)
Alex leaned back in the floating black leather office chair with a sigh of contentment. Finally, after all his hard work 'protecting' the timeline he had been promoted to General with all its perks. He smirked to himself. What would Logan say if he ever found out about all the times Alex had snuck into the past just to grab a few souvenirs? He already had the Sword of Light, the Radbug, the Electro Booster, Auric the Conqueror, and other Ranger junk no one ever seemed to miss. Sooner or later he would have his powers back and he'd command even more underlings.
He was unaware that Captain Logan had known all about his 'collection,' ever since some bizarre creature calling itself 'Bookala' made it snow in his office. That and Alex's constant sobbing and screaming about his lost Red Ranger powers were the reason for his current placement in Timeforce Psychiatric Hospital.
"Let me go! Let me go! I'm not crazy; I really am from the past!" Wes shouted as he was unceremoniously shoved into the futuristic mental hospital. "Great, just great, Collins," he grumbled to himself. He should have known something was up when his dad got him drunk on his twenty fifth birthday and had Eric shove him into the timeship that had been hidden under a tarp labeled 'unimportant project nothing to worry about, Wes.' It seemed they had finally gotten fed up with his constant wailing about his lost love. Those dunderheads had no idea that he had just been bucking to get out of his work by getting everyone to feel sorry for him. Bachelor life was fantastic.
"Soldier!" called a voice from a corner of the common area. "Why are you out of uniform? Report here at once!"
Wes turned at that and noticed the desk and floating chair in the corner. Then he noticed an extremely handsome face under stupidly colored hair. "Alex?" he asked.
"That's General Drake to you!" barked Alex. "Now, what do you have to report on your mission?"
"Uh, what mission?" asked Wes in confusion.
"The one I sent you on to the past!" yelled Alex. "Did you give that jerk, Collins, that swirlie yet?"
"So that's what that was all about!" hollered Wes as he approached the desk. "And here I thought I was finally getting initiated into the innermost circle of the Red Ranger club."
"Well, at least you get to be a member," griped Alex as he finally realized whom was speaking with. "Every time I go to the past to join, those jerks keep accusing me of being you with shoe polish in your hair."
Wes smirked. "Yeah, and it's even funnier since I'm always standing right there when they say that."
"What are you doing here?" asked Alex. He narrowed his eyes. "Did you come here to steal my new morpher?" He held up his wrist. "Well you can't have it! It's mine, I tell you, mine!"
"Why would I want a Barney the Dinosaur watch?" asked Wes. "And who wrote 'Plaid Ranger' on…oh, looks like Lucas' writing." The Blue Timeforce Ranger hadn't been too pleased when Alex had Nadira deported to the other side of the galaxy. But he had to get back at Lucas somehow for being the one to stand up to him and cause him to give his precious Red morpher back to that stupid usurper.
With a growl, Alex leapt off his chair. "Time for Time Force!" He yelled as he hit a button on the watch. Nothing happened. He hit it again. "Why won't you work?" he yelled at the watch before ripping it off and flinging it across the room. He didn't even notice the three hundred pound fellow psychiatirc patient he had whacked with it as he flung himself to the floor and sobbed.
With a grin, Wes stepped up to Alex. "Do you want this?" he asked tauntingly as he dangled the Red Time Force morpher over Alex's head. "Do you? Huh, do you?"
"Mine!" cried Alex as he leapt up and tried to grab it from the other man.
But Wes just kept leaping around and holding it out of reach. "You can't have it! You can't have it!" he teased in a singsong voice. "You can't have it! You can't have it! You can't…OOF!" cried Wes as he was slammed into the wall by the three hundred pound patient who also happened to be nearsighted.
Alex casually walked over and plucked the morpher out of his groaning doppelganger's hand. "Finally," he sighed in contentment. "I've missed you so much," he said as he kissed his old morpher. "Thanks, Charley," he said as he patted the patient on the shoulder. "I'll see you at six for our usual card game."
The other man nodded and walked away.
"Now where was I? Oh yeah," Alex posed and then shouted. "Time for Time Force!" Nothing happened. "What the hell? Time for Time Force!" Still nothing happened. He stomped over to Wes who was casually brushing himself off. "What did you do to my morpher?" Alex growled as he grabbed Wes by his collar and shoved him back against the wall.
"Nothing, nothing!" protested Wes as he was shoved harder against the wall. "It wasn't me! Honest!" he whined as Alex raised his fist. "It was that Oliver guy! He ordered me and the rest of the Red Rangers to siphon our powers to him so he could morph into the Ultimate Rainbow Ranger!" Wes squeezed his eyes closed, if he was lucky, Alex would never find out he had actually used up all the power in the morpher to short out the Quantasaurus Rex. Wes had gotten sick and tired of Eric bragging how he could rule the world and get all the chicks with his Zord.
"Very well," replied Alex. He sat back at his desk and began typing on a futuristic data pad. "There, I just sent a letter from his high school girlfriend in Florida, breaking them up. Now he won't have anyone to show off his powers to."
Wes shrugged his shoulders. "Why would anyone even care about that? Besides, you still don't have a morpher."
Alex blanched at this then he remembered something. "Maybe not, but I still have something…or someone else you want."
"Jen?" asked Wes as Alex showed him the digital wedding photo.
"Yes, she's mine now." Alex leaned back with a grin. "Seems she realized how much she still loved me and begged me to marry her." A few faked scenes from the past showing Wes to be a serial killer that kicked puppies had helped Jen to have a change of heart.
"Why would I want her?" Wes asked nonchalantly. "All she did when she was in my time was nag and order me about. Besides, I've moved on to that cute Wild Force girl. Now if only Cole would stop telling his animal friends to throw dung on my motorcycle…"
Alex sprung up from his seat. "What do you mean you don't want her?" he cried. "You have to want her back. You two are destined to be together!"
Wes stared at the other man. "But, I thought…"
"Please take her back! I can't stand the constant harping! You thought I was a rigid perfectionist? Forget it! I even have to iron my socks and underwear!" He got down on his knees. "I'll do anything; I'll send her back in time to you. I'd rather spend the rest of my life in Time Force's prison rather than keep living with her!" He began to sob yet again.
"Oh, uh," Wes began as he awkwardly began to pat Alex on the head. He quickly removed it to examine the shoe polish that had rubbed off. "Well, wouldn't you just know it? Someone has already put you into this nice psychiatric hospital. Looks like you don't have to go home to Jen anymore."
"Really?" asked Alex. He looked around carefully. "Hmmmm…I thought this office looked a bit odd. Oh well," he sat back in his chair. "Good to know I don't have to worry about…Jennifer!" he squealed as his visiting wife grabbed him by the ear and dragged him away. "No! I'm happy here! I don't want to go back with you! Noooooooooo!"
Wes sat down in the abandoned floating leather chair and leaned back. He could get used to living in this place. No Biolab, no greedy father, no bragging Eric. Best of all, he now had this office and cool chair to go with it. "Awesome!" he cried as he hit the arm with his fist…causing the chair to short circuit.
For the next two hours, Wes called for help and tried to get out of the chair as it continuously rammed him into the walls and ceiling.
AN: This is the last story in this series. Thanks to all who have reviewed these pairings.
I am taking at least a temporary break from writing these pairings. I used to be able to write these off the top of my head but now I can't seem to focus long enough to get them written in a timely manner. Maybe someday I will write another set. In the meanwhile, I will continue to read and review stories and maybe even write a few other stories in hopes of smashing a few plot bunnies.