AN: Hiya All! Remember me? You don't? Oh well. I posted a story in
April, called Free to Fly and said it was the prequel to something
else. Surprise! I was going to call it Birds of a Feather but changed
my mind. You don't need to have read the other one, but there are a few
references to it. Like the title. ANYwayz, hope you like it, please
review (pretty please with white ranger on top?)
Flying Home
By Eileen Blazer
July 2002
Rating: Um, PG
Summary: Having passed on the Power, Tommy decides to pursue a new
goal: winning back Kimberly. Of course, he has to find her first.
Part One
The young man was in a window seat, gazing intently at the Iowa fields
in the distance. His features, often described as handsome, offered a
picture of tranqility. Warm breath blew up his face, chasing away stray
brown locks, as his hands comfortably folded over the arm of the chair.
This man was an image of relaxation and contentment.
But it was all just an act.
Inside, Tommy felt like Alice falling through a rabbit hole, into a
world of turmoil and confusion. So many fears and thoughts ate away at
his mind.
Would she be there? What would she say? Or think? Worse yet, what if he
couldn't change her mind?
But he had to hope.
Inside his pocket, over his heart, Tommy carried an aged letter. Its
edges had been folded and creased, the once stark white of the paper
now yellowing. The black ink had faded and had he not memorized the
words long ago, Tommy might not have been able to read it. But the
message still burned in him like a candle held under his hand, roasting
the flesh in its torturous flame.
It was The Letter, now infamous among his friends of the time. The
Letter that had catapulted him into weeks of depression, a time of
denial, and years of nightmares. With a few words, his heart had been
crushed like a rose under a giant's feet.
You're free to fly, she'd said.
Hadn't she known that her love was the wind on which he soared? Before
she graced his life, Tommy'd been lost, alone, afraid to trust. After
she left him, he reverted back to the shell of his past. Empty smiles
and fake concern became his trademark, fooling all but closest friends.
There's someone else, she'd said.
How could anyone else need her like he did? How was it possible that
any other man breathed her in like air, worshipped her for her love?
They shared something different than ordinary love, something that can
only be found with the knowledge that the other might die in the next
instant. With the Rangers, life itself was an uncertainty, so you had
love as though every second were the last. In the many but too few
seconds passed with her, Tommy had learned to pour out the love she
inspired, to cherish every time his hand held hers, to seek out little
kisses as often as possible.
And she'd left.
Of course, he encouraged her to go to Florida; it had been her big
chance. Kat, the sweet girl that she was, was more than willing to fill
in as the Pink Ranger. Not that he wanted Kat to replace his love, or
ever felt the lovely uniform was anything but ill-fitting on her.
In the aftermath of the whole Letter ordeal, Tommy had been angry. For
a while, he shrugged off any mention of Kimberly's name and
occasionally declared that he had had never had a truly happy
relationship. He even went so far as to date Kat, an act that neither
placated nor amused his worried friends.
When the Rangers decided to step down, they'd all decided to go their
own ways. He and Kat, then a couple in name only, shook hands and
parted. She left to a dancing school in Austrailia; he booked a plane
to Florida.
To find the only love in his life.
****************
Why is it that although California and Florida are famous for their
sunny beaches, it always seemed to rain? It had poured when he boarded
the plane; it poured when he got off. Tommy lifted a newpaper over his
head and examined the city in the distance.
Tall buildings, an occasional tree, sidewalk, it looked pretty much
like any other place he'd ever been. Well, except for Rita's evil
palace on the moon, *that* was definitely unique. Tommy joined the
surge of people waving frantically to their relatives waiting on the
other side, tugging small children behind them by the hand, taking
snapshots and posing by the windows. For a moment, he imagined that
circumstances were different and someone waited for him at the other
end, her wide grin shinning as her light brown hair bounced up and down
with her.
"I love you Tommy Oliver!" She would have shouted. It felt so real, he
could almost hear her yelling his name loudly through the crowds.
"Tommy Oliver!" He heard again. But this time it sounded much more
masculine. A tap on the shoulder spun him around. An older, bearded man
offered him a small bag, laughing, breathing heavily. "You are Tommy
Oliver?" He asked.
Tommy nodded. "Good, because you left this on the plane. Had to cover
it up with my bag here, else the water would have ruined it." His
wrinkled hand reached in and removed a tiny velvet box, wiping a few
drops off the label pasted on the bottom. "Wouldn't want the lucky girl
to get her hands all smudged, would we?"
The ex-Ranger accepted the box with a startled thanks, turning it
upside down to read the words printed beneath it.
Thomas Oliver and Kimberley Ann Hart
Bound by Fate and the Truest of Loves
He looked up to see the man but he'd already vanished. Pocketing the
small object, he shook his head in confusion. The box was his.
But the label hadn't been there before.
*********************************
17 Avery Dr.
Tommy took a deep breath and tried to relax. But for the first time the
address printed in the top corner of the Letter was painted before him
on a small wooden sign, hanging precariously by a thin string nailed
into the wall. It was his only clue to her whereabouts, all letters she
sent the group since *the* letter were lacking a return address.
A nervous hand came up to knock on the door then quickly retreated
before the act was done.
Idiot, he scolded himself. Give me a two story tall evil monster bent
on the destruction of humanity and I'll be fine but don't you dare ask
me to knock on my ex girlfriend's door.
Still, despite the self-lecture, Tommy had trouble finding some inner
courage.
What would he say if she answered the door? 'Hi, I love you, lets get
back together' seemed to lack both finesse and sense. And what if *he*
answered the door? What then? Run away back to reliable ol' Angel
Grove?
Finally he shoved the questions and doubts away and simply tapped the
wooden entrance lightly.
"Just a minute!" called a voice from somewhere in the house. A voice
that did not belong to Kimberly. Moments later the sound of a clinking
latch could be heard, turning, and then the door peeked open, a
slightly visible green eye examining him. "Who are ya?"
"Uh, Hi. Name's Tommy Oliver. I'm looking for a Miss Kimberly Hart,
does she still live here?"
The door swung open and a pretty blonde grinned at him, braces linning
her teeth. "Lookin' for Kim? Gosh, I wish cute guys would come for me.
I'm Tiffany, by the way, Tiffany Robins. Why don't ya come on in."
He followed her a bit reluctantly, glancing around in hopes of catching
a glimpse of someone or something pink. Tiffany wandered over to a
kitchen area and offered him a coke. "Kim doesn't live here anymore,"
she said, slipping a small cracker into her mouth. "She moved into the
girls' house a few months ago. *But*, we're all gettin' together today.
You know, one last hurrah before the girls who couldn't cut it are
shipped back home. You'll probably see her there."
Tommy nodded, feeling both relief and disappointment. The former
because he had more time to think, plan, and the latter because he had
more time...to wait.
Tiffany walked over to a mirror, rifling through a bag for a stick of
mascara. "So, tell me." She began, "Why *are* ya lookin' from Kim.
Oops, unless its really personal and rude of me to ask."
"Well..um...we're old friends from Angel Grove."
"Angel Grove!" Tiffany lit up like a sparkler on the Fourth of July.
"Oh wow. We always wanted to meet the mysterious gang Kim had in
California!" She threw down her make-up and ran over to a stack of
books in the corner. Picking the one in the middle, she looked up and
grinned widely. "This is the book of friends. All the girls list some
special friends, Kim's section is the one with pink background. Back
when she first came, she couldn't stop talking about ya all. Good thing
we wrote you down in the book 'cause she finally ran out of words a
few weeks later."
He shuttered at the thought of what her silence must have meant.
"Good thing."
"Yeah. So what's your name again, Tommy Oliver...Jason, Billy,
Zack..Tom...oh." Shock fell over her face and she shut the book,
letting it fall to her side. "You're *him*."
Him? What did that mean? What had Kim told them, that he was some loser
of her past? But no, she wouldn't say that. "What do you mean *him*."
"You're the one who broke her heart. She was crushed." Tiffany stood up
and walked over to the door. "I don't know if I can take you there.
She...we...maybe you should just leave."
"What the hell?" Tommy almost bit his lip for the rude outburst, but
quickly decided other things were more important "*She* dumped *me*!"
He cried, almost shouting, acting irrationally but not caring or able
to stop it. "I was crushed. I was the one who got the letter, and the
one who cried, and the one who was replaced by someone in Florida."
"You were dumped?" Tiffany stared at him in disbelief. "Kim was almost
one of the rejects. We couldn't get her out of bed when you broke her
heart, and *what* other guy? I've never, since I've known her, seen her
look at one in a more than friendly way."
Tommy shoved his hand into a pocket and pulled out the Letter, dangling
it in front of her face. "Look. *This* is what she gave me."
She snatched it away and ran her eyes over the sheet, gasping softly
the farther down she got. "Oh wow. Kim really meant it when she said
you didn't do it. I'm sorry, so sorry. We just...I was trying to
protect her. I didn't know."
He nodded, taking back his paper and folding it carefully back. "Its
all right. I just want to see her again."
Tiffany nodded, a little shaken. "Yeah, let's go. I'll finish my
make-up in the car." Grabbing her purse, she quickly danced down the
stairs, mummbling to herself.
Tommy followed just behind her and sat in the passengers seat of his
own car.
The moment was fast approaching.
******************
The lights were on and people were clearly home. Girls, giggling
happily, hung from every area of the house. And since they were mostly
all gymnasts, I mean the *hung* part quite literaly. Tommy narrowly
missed being kicked in the head by a pair of legs that swung back and
forth from above the porch. A blonde, standing on her hands, managed to
wave to him. Tiffany placed herself between them.
"He's Kim's, Judy. Stay back." The girl covered her mouth and winced,
then walked off while mouthing 'oops'. Tiffany shook her head, pulling
Tommy into the house.
Many friends greeted her, exchanging hugs and kisses on the cheek.
There were several inquiries regarding the quiet man behind her, which
his blonde companion answered with a secretive whisper. Soon a whole
mob of girls were eyeing him, following him, creating theories on his
sudden appearance.
None of that phased him. Since the Power changed hands, from one
generation to the next, the ex-leader of the group known as the Power
Rangers had become a very one-track kind of thinker; only reclaiming
his greatest treasure was important. The whole world could've been
following him and Tommy Oliver wouldn't have noticed it anymore than
the few specks of dust that collected on his shoes.
Presently, he wrung his wrists nervously, once again trying to write a
speech in his head, summon the courage he needed to survive the
encounter.
Kim, I want you back, that's what he'd say. Can't we just start all
over?
Tiffany's hand stopped his pacing, and she gestured towards a little
room where yet even more girls sat in a circle. His breath caught when
he saw a pair of pink and lily white shoes, just barely in sight.
He'd never known if flashbacks were real, but just then he had his
answer. The world around him shifted, back in time and across the
country...
Kimberly hung off his arm, her eyes closed as he led her down the
street. It was a little windy and it was his jacket draped around her
shoulders, keeping her small body warm. Her head was resting on him,
and the smell of her strawberries and cream shampoo seemed to float up
to his nose.
"You think Zed'll attack today, Tommy?" she asked, and he spied her
free hand fingering the special watch on his arm.
"No, not today," came his reply. He bent down to capture her lips for
one kiss. "Your birthday is too important a day for even him to try and
ruin."
She smiled and opened her eyes. "I love you Tommy."
"I love you too, Kim."
"Oh. My. Gosh. Look at those shoes!" She pried herself away and glued
her body to the Macy's window. He stood behind her, a grin on his lips.
Some people, those who didn't really know her, had called her vain and
materialistic in the past. Her ardent love for fashion in the pinkish
direction was well known. But she ran so much deeper than her
superficial behavior sometimes led others to believe. So much deeper
that Tommy oftened allowed her to indulge, spending his hard-earned
cash on items like the shoes in the window. He led her inside the
store.
If might've seemed like he was buying her love, but nothing could be
farther from the truth. The gifts, though nice, were generally matched
by something equally expensive, a motor for his car (constantly in
progress), a box of german chocolates, imported (so he had a sweet
tooth), etc.
The best thing they ever shared was love. It perfect, in every sense of
the word...
"Hello? Earth to Tommy?" He shook his head and blinked a few times, the
vision before him becoming more and more clearer. It was Tiffany,
rolling her eyes. "Geez, you blacked-out on me. While you were
daydreamin', Kim left. I didn't get a chance to tell her about you."
Kim was gone? Yet another chance has slipped through his greasy
fingers. "Do you know where she's going?"
"Yeah. She and a friend were going out to dinner at Chef's. It a block
away from here, north."
He turned.
"Hey Tommy? He's just a friend, remember that." Tiffany threw something
at him and he caught it without thinking.
******************
Friend he may have been, but it was obvious by his face that the man
seated across from Kimberly was not interested in only platonic
relations. His eyes, dark blue, roamed over her with a hunger that
Tommy knew all too well. How many times had his own gaze traveled
across her body, his heart yearning to hold her tigher, closer.
Unfortunately, he couldn't see her own face, just the brown-blonde (she
*dyed* it?) hair, long white coat, and the pair of shoes.
Sinkng into a chair, Tommy sighed. Marching up to them and insisting
she take him back was out of the question. Somehow, acting like a crazy
person didn't seem the best approach. But oh, how'd he love to smack
Blue-eyes in the face with the bottle of wine he kept pouring from.
A tall, slender waiter placed a menu on his table. "Sir can I offer you
something to drink? Coffee perhaps?"
"Huh? Oh, sure." Tommy emptied into his pockets, making sure he'd
brought a credit card with him. Glancing at the waiter, he found him
staring at something on the table.
"Excuse me sir," the waiter asked. "But is that the pink Power Ranger
with you? That's amazing."
Tommy followed his gaze to where it rested, on the paper that Tiffany
had tossed him on his way out. It was a picture, one taken by Billy
during his photography phase. He, dressed in plain clothes, had just
arrived on the scene of a battle and managed to catch Kimberly, thrown
the by the monster in his direction. Her face and body, hidden by the
pink suit, lay in his arms.
He knew that picture, it'd been in the front of his photo album until
one of Aisha's baby sitting charges got a hold of it and scattered his
memories, by accident of course, all over Angel Grove. His finger ran
over it. How had it ended up in Tiffany's hands, of all people?
After a minute of staring in silent shock, Tommy realized the waiter
was still at the table, awestruck. Answering the now old question,
Tommy smiled. "Yes, she saved my life that day. This picture is a thank
you."
The waiter nodded enthusiastically. "I've heard, sir, that the Power
Rangers are very nice aliens. Sign autographs and everything."
The ex-Ranger raised an eyebrow. "Really? Um, have you ever met one? In
person?" Wiping his hands in the rag flung over his belt, the waiter
grinned. He offered a dry hand to shake and a seat to himself, dragging
a chair to the table.
"I'm Paulo. And no, not I. But, but my sister met a lady at the
hairdresser whose son went to school with someone who was saved by
them. So you see, I have firsthand experience."
"I'm Tommy Oliver and that's remarkable. And they said they were
aliens?"
Paulo grabbed a bottle of wine and poured himself a glass. "Well, no.
But, be serious. Where else could these people have found their power,
if not in an exterrestrial birthright?"
Tommy shrugged. "I dunno, what if a powerful, wise being just selected
a group of regular teens to save the world from the age of old threat
of evil?"
"Ha. Imagine that, the Power Rangers being children? No, they are much
too strong. Aliens, thats what they are."
"Oh, aliens."
"Without a doubt."
The pink-shoed foot shifted and the conversation followed. "Tell me
Paulo, are you married?"
The waiter pulled out a wallet sized photo album from his shirt, as
though it were a pistol and he, in the middle of a duel. Dozens of
small faces stared back at Tommy. "I am. My wife Rosie and I have six
children and one on the way."
"That's wonderful." He pictured himself in a few years, happily sharing
his own family with random strangers. What a soothing replacement Kim's
picture would make for the letter that currently burned in his shirt
pocket. And children, innocent and darling, his very own children. A
few years ago, that would've sounded so corny. Funny how things change
when you grow up.
"Ah," Paulo said. "You have the look of one who loves."
"What does that look like."
Paulo folded the pictues back up. "Bliss. Is your angel meeting you
here?"
"She's here, but not for me. With a friend, they say."
"But you do not believe it?"
"We broke up a while ago. She probably moved on, but I have to at least
try to win her back. I have to tell you, Paulo, I don't think she
reciprocates my feelings anymore."
The waiter stood and brushed the wrinkles on his uniform. "Thomas, if
you honestly thought that, you would not be here. I shall bring you
your drink now, very well?"
"Yes, thank you." Tommy wasn't sure, but he seemed to be thanking Paulo
for something other than the drink. A newfound confidence, perhaps.
Someday, he would have that album to show strangers on the street. The
thought sent his mind back to the photo at the table.
It's been lost on the other side of the country, but here it was, in
front of him. Granted stranger things *had* happened. But what about
the label on the box. That too had seemed a miracle of some sort.
He folded his arms and wondered.
He was there to win back Kimberly Hart.
But was someone helping him?
Gasp! Is someone assisting to our former hero (Or, arguably, our
current hero since he is the protagonist of the story)? Will he ever
actually speak with Kimberly? And just who is this friend she's dining
with? Your answers will be answered in the next exciting chapter of
Flying Home. Same Ranger channel, same Ranger time. Tootles!
Puleaze review! Pleeeaaaaaaze? ^_^ :
April, called Free to Fly and said it was the prequel to something
else. Surprise! I was going to call it Birds of a Feather but changed
my mind. You don't need to have read the other one, but there are a few
references to it. Like the title. ANYwayz, hope you like it, please
review (pretty please with white ranger on top?)
Flying Home
By Eileen Blazer
July 2002
Rating: Um, PG
Summary: Having passed on the Power, Tommy decides to pursue a new
goal: winning back Kimberly. Of course, he has to find her first.
Part One
The young man was in a window seat, gazing intently at the Iowa fields
in the distance. His features, often described as handsome, offered a
picture of tranqility. Warm breath blew up his face, chasing away stray
brown locks, as his hands comfortably folded over the arm of the chair.
This man was an image of relaxation and contentment.
But it was all just an act.
Inside, Tommy felt like Alice falling through a rabbit hole, into a
world of turmoil and confusion. So many fears and thoughts ate away at
his mind.
Would she be there? What would she say? Or think? Worse yet, what if he
couldn't change her mind?
But he had to hope.
Inside his pocket, over his heart, Tommy carried an aged letter. Its
edges had been folded and creased, the once stark white of the paper
now yellowing. The black ink had faded and had he not memorized the
words long ago, Tommy might not have been able to read it. But the
message still burned in him like a candle held under his hand, roasting
the flesh in its torturous flame.
It was The Letter, now infamous among his friends of the time. The
Letter that had catapulted him into weeks of depression, a time of
denial, and years of nightmares. With a few words, his heart had been
crushed like a rose under a giant's feet.
You're free to fly, she'd said.
Hadn't she known that her love was the wind on which he soared? Before
she graced his life, Tommy'd been lost, alone, afraid to trust. After
she left him, he reverted back to the shell of his past. Empty smiles
and fake concern became his trademark, fooling all but closest friends.
There's someone else, she'd said.
How could anyone else need her like he did? How was it possible that
any other man breathed her in like air, worshipped her for her love?
They shared something different than ordinary love, something that can
only be found with the knowledge that the other might die in the next
instant. With the Rangers, life itself was an uncertainty, so you had
love as though every second were the last. In the many but too few
seconds passed with her, Tommy had learned to pour out the love she
inspired, to cherish every time his hand held hers, to seek out little
kisses as often as possible.
And she'd left.
Of course, he encouraged her to go to Florida; it had been her big
chance. Kat, the sweet girl that she was, was more than willing to fill
in as the Pink Ranger. Not that he wanted Kat to replace his love, or
ever felt the lovely uniform was anything but ill-fitting on her.
In the aftermath of the whole Letter ordeal, Tommy had been angry. For
a while, he shrugged off any mention of Kimberly's name and
occasionally declared that he had had never had a truly happy
relationship. He even went so far as to date Kat, an act that neither
placated nor amused his worried friends.
When the Rangers decided to step down, they'd all decided to go their
own ways. He and Kat, then a couple in name only, shook hands and
parted. She left to a dancing school in Austrailia; he booked a plane
to Florida.
To find the only love in his life.
****************
Why is it that although California and Florida are famous for their
sunny beaches, it always seemed to rain? It had poured when he boarded
the plane; it poured when he got off. Tommy lifted a newpaper over his
head and examined the city in the distance.
Tall buildings, an occasional tree, sidewalk, it looked pretty much
like any other place he'd ever been. Well, except for Rita's evil
palace on the moon, *that* was definitely unique. Tommy joined the
surge of people waving frantically to their relatives waiting on the
other side, tugging small children behind them by the hand, taking
snapshots and posing by the windows. For a moment, he imagined that
circumstances were different and someone waited for him at the other
end, her wide grin shinning as her light brown hair bounced up and down
with her.
"I love you Tommy Oliver!" She would have shouted. It felt so real, he
could almost hear her yelling his name loudly through the crowds.
"Tommy Oliver!" He heard again. But this time it sounded much more
masculine. A tap on the shoulder spun him around. An older, bearded man
offered him a small bag, laughing, breathing heavily. "You are Tommy
Oliver?" He asked.
Tommy nodded. "Good, because you left this on the plane. Had to cover
it up with my bag here, else the water would have ruined it." His
wrinkled hand reached in and removed a tiny velvet box, wiping a few
drops off the label pasted on the bottom. "Wouldn't want the lucky girl
to get her hands all smudged, would we?"
The ex-Ranger accepted the box with a startled thanks, turning it
upside down to read the words printed beneath it.
Thomas Oliver and Kimberley Ann Hart
Bound by Fate and the Truest of Loves
He looked up to see the man but he'd already vanished. Pocketing the
small object, he shook his head in confusion. The box was his.
But the label hadn't been there before.
*********************************
17 Avery Dr.
Tommy took a deep breath and tried to relax. But for the first time the
address printed in the top corner of the Letter was painted before him
on a small wooden sign, hanging precariously by a thin string nailed
into the wall. It was his only clue to her whereabouts, all letters she
sent the group since *the* letter were lacking a return address.
A nervous hand came up to knock on the door then quickly retreated
before the act was done.
Idiot, he scolded himself. Give me a two story tall evil monster bent
on the destruction of humanity and I'll be fine but don't you dare ask
me to knock on my ex girlfriend's door.
Still, despite the self-lecture, Tommy had trouble finding some inner
courage.
What would he say if she answered the door? 'Hi, I love you, lets get
back together' seemed to lack both finesse and sense. And what if *he*
answered the door? What then? Run away back to reliable ol' Angel
Grove?
Finally he shoved the questions and doubts away and simply tapped the
wooden entrance lightly.
"Just a minute!" called a voice from somewhere in the house. A voice
that did not belong to Kimberly. Moments later the sound of a clinking
latch could be heard, turning, and then the door peeked open, a
slightly visible green eye examining him. "Who are ya?"
"Uh, Hi. Name's Tommy Oliver. I'm looking for a Miss Kimberly Hart,
does she still live here?"
The door swung open and a pretty blonde grinned at him, braces linning
her teeth. "Lookin' for Kim? Gosh, I wish cute guys would come for me.
I'm Tiffany, by the way, Tiffany Robins. Why don't ya come on in."
He followed her a bit reluctantly, glancing around in hopes of catching
a glimpse of someone or something pink. Tiffany wandered over to a
kitchen area and offered him a coke. "Kim doesn't live here anymore,"
she said, slipping a small cracker into her mouth. "She moved into the
girls' house a few months ago. *But*, we're all gettin' together today.
You know, one last hurrah before the girls who couldn't cut it are
shipped back home. You'll probably see her there."
Tommy nodded, feeling both relief and disappointment. The former
because he had more time to think, plan, and the latter because he had
more time...to wait.
Tiffany walked over to a mirror, rifling through a bag for a stick of
mascara. "So, tell me." She began, "Why *are* ya lookin' from Kim.
Oops, unless its really personal and rude of me to ask."
"Well..um...we're old friends from Angel Grove."
"Angel Grove!" Tiffany lit up like a sparkler on the Fourth of July.
"Oh wow. We always wanted to meet the mysterious gang Kim had in
California!" She threw down her make-up and ran over to a stack of
books in the corner. Picking the one in the middle, she looked up and
grinned widely. "This is the book of friends. All the girls list some
special friends, Kim's section is the one with pink background. Back
when she first came, she couldn't stop talking about ya all. Good thing
we wrote you down in the book 'cause she finally ran out of words a
few weeks later."
He shuttered at the thought of what her silence must have meant.
"Good thing."
"Yeah. So what's your name again, Tommy Oliver...Jason, Billy,
Zack..Tom...oh." Shock fell over her face and she shut the book,
letting it fall to her side. "You're *him*."
Him? What did that mean? What had Kim told them, that he was some loser
of her past? But no, she wouldn't say that. "What do you mean *him*."
"You're the one who broke her heart. She was crushed." Tiffany stood up
and walked over to the door. "I don't know if I can take you there.
She...we...maybe you should just leave."
"What the hell?" Tommy almost bit his lip for the rude outburst, but
quickly decided other things were more important "*She* dumped *me*!"
He cried, almost shouting, acting irrationally but not caring or able
to stop it. "I was crushed. I was the one who got the letter, and the
one who cried, and the one who was replaced by someone in Florida."
"You were dumped?" Tiffany stared at him in disbelief. "Kim was almost
one of the rejects. We couldn't get her out of bed when you broke her
heart, and *what* other guy? I've never, since I've known her, seen her
look at one in a more than friendly way."
Tommy shoved his hand into a pocket and pulled out the Letter, dangling
it in front of her face. "Look. *This* is what she gave me."
She snatched it away and ran her eyes over the sheet, gasping softly
the farther down she got. "Oh wow. Kim really meant it when she said
you didn't do it. I'm sorry, so sorry. We just...I was trying to
protect her. I didn't know."
He nodded, taking back his paper and folding it carefully back. "Its
all right. I just want to see her again."
Tiffany nodded, a little shaken. "Yeah, let's go. I'll finish my
make-up in the car." Grabbing her purse, she quickly danced down the
stairs, mummbling to herself.
Tommy followed just behind her and sat in the passengers seat of his
own car.
The moment was fast approaching.
******************
The lights were on and people were clearly home. Girls, giggling
happily, hung from every area of the house. And since they were mostly
all gymnasts, I mean the *hung* part quite literaly. Tommy narrowly
missed being kicked in the head by a pair of legs that swung back and
forth from above the porch. A blonde, standing on her hands, managed to
wave to him. Tiffany placed herself between them.
"He's Kim's, Judy. Stay back." The girl covered her mouth and winced,
then walked off while mouthing 'oops'. Tiffany shook her head, pulling
Tommy into the house.
Many friends greeted her, exchanging hugs and kisses on the cheek.
There were several inquiries regarding the quiet man behind her, which
his blonde companion answered with a secretive whisper. Soon a whole
mob of girls were eyeing him, following him, creating theories on his
sudden appearance.
None of that phased him. Since the Power changed hands, from one
generation to the next, the ex-leader of the group known as the Power
Rangers had become a very one-track kind of thinker; only reclaiming
his greatest treasure was important. The whole world could've been
following him and Tommy Oliver wouldn't have noticed it anymore than
the few specks of dust that collected on his shoes.
Presently, he wrung his wrists nervously, once again trying to write a
speech in his head, summon the courage he needed to survive the
encounter.
Kim, I want you back, that's what he'd say. Can't we just start all
over?
Tiffany's hand stopped his pacing, and she gestured towards a little
room where yet even more girls sat in a circle. His breath caught when
he saw a pair of pink and lily white shoes, just barely in sight.
He'd never known if flashbacks were real, but just then he had his
answer. The world around him shifted, back in time and across the
country...
Kimberly hung off his arm, her eyes closed as he led her down the
street. It was a little windy and it was his jacket draped around her
shoulders, keeping her small body warm. Her head was resting on him,
and the smell of her strawberries and cream shampoo seemed to float up
to his nose.
"You think Zed'll attack today, Tommy?" she asked, and he spied her
free hand fingering the special watch on his arm.
"No, not today," came his reply. He bent down to capture her lips for
one kiss. "Your birthday is too important a day for even him to try and
ruin."
She smiled and opened her eyes. "I love you Tommy."
"I love you too, Kim."
"Oh. My. Gosh. Look at those shoes!" She pried herself away and glued
her body to the Macy's window. He stood behind her, a grin on his lips.
Some people, those who didn't really know her, had called her vain and
materialistic in the past. Her ardent love for fashion in the pinkish
direction was well known. But she ran so much deeper than her
superficial behavior sometimes led others to believe. So much deeper
that Tommy oftened allowed her to indulge, spending his hard-earned
cash on items like the shoes in the window. He led her inside the
store.
If might've seemed like he was buying her love, but nothing could be
farther from the truth. The gifts, though nice, were generally matched
by something equally expensive, a motor for his car (constantly in
progress), a box of german chocolates, imported (so he had a sweet
tooth), etc.
The best thing they ever shared was love. It perfect, in every sense of
the word...
"Hello? Earth to Tommy?" He shook his head and blinked a few times, the
vision before him becoming more and more clearer. It was Tiffany,
rolling her eyes. "Geez, you blacked-out on me. While you were
daydreamin', Kim left. I didn't get a chance to tell her about you."
Kim was gone? Yet another chance has slipped through his greasy
fingers. "Do you know where she's going?"
"Yeah. She and a friend were going out to dinner at Chef's. It a block
away from here, north."
He turned.
"Hey Tommy? He's just a friend, remember that." Tiffany threw something
at him and he caught it without thinking.
******************
Friend he may have been, but it was obvious by his face that the man
seated across from Kimberly was not interested in only platonic
relations. His eyes, dark blue, roamed over her with a hunger that
Tommy knew all too well. How many times had his own gaze traveled
across her body, his heart yearning to hold her tigher, closer.
Unfortunately, he couldn't see her own face, just the brown-blonde (she
*dyed* it?) hair, long white coat, and the pair of shoes.
Sinkng into a chair, Tommy sighed. Marching up to them and insisting
she take him back was out of the question. Somehow, acting like a crazy
person didn't seem the best approach. But oh, how'd he love to smack
Blue-eyes in the face with the bottle of wine he kept pouring from.
A tall, slender waiter placed a menu on his table. "Sir can I offer you
something to drink? Coffee perhaps?"
"Huh? Oh, sure." Tommy emptied into his pockets, making sure he'd
brought a credit card with him. Glancing at the waiter, he found him
staring at something on the table.
"Excuse me sir," the waiter asked. "But is that the pink Power Ranger
with you? That's amazing."
Tommy followed his gaze to where it rested, on the paper that Tiffany
had tossed him on his way out. It was a picture, one taken by Billy
during his photography phase. He, dressed in plain clothes, had just
arrived on the scene of a battle and managed to catch Kimberly, thrown
the by the monster in his direction. Her face and body, hidden by the
pink suit, lay in his arms.
He knew that picture, it'd been in the front of his photo album until
one of Aisha's baby sitting charges got a hold of it and scattered his
memories, by accident of course, all over Angel Grove. His finger ran
over it. How had it ended up in Tiffany's hands, of all people?
After a minute of staring in silent shock, Tommy realized the waiter
was still at the table, awestruck. Answering the now old question,
Tommy smiled. "Yes, she saved my life that day. This picture is a thank
you."
The waiter nodded enthusiastically. "I've heard, sir, that the Power
Rangers are very nice aliens. Sign autographs and everything."
The ex-Ranger raised an eyebrow. "Really? Um, have you ever met one? In
person?" Wiping his hands in the rag flung over his belt, the waiter
grinned. He offered a dry hand to shake and a seat to himself, dragging
a chair to the table.
"I'm Paulo. And no, not I. But, but my sister met a lady at the
hairdresser whose son went to school with someone who was saved by
them. So you see, I have firsthand experience."
"I'm Tommy Oliver and that's remarkable. And they said they were
aliens?"
Paulo grabbed a bottle of wine and poured himself a glass. "Well, no.
But, be serious. Where else could these people have found their power,
if not in an exterrestrial birthright?"
Tommy shrugged. "I dunno, what if a powerful, wise being just selected
a group of regular teens to save the world from the age of old threat
of evil?"
"Ha. Imagine that, the Power Rangers being children? No, they are much
too strong. Aliens, thats what they are."
"Oh, aliens."
"Without a doubt."
The pink-shoed foot shifted and the conversation followed. "Tell me
Paulo, are you married?"
The waiter pulled out a wallet sized photo album from his shirt, as
though it were a pistol and he, in the middle of a duel. Dozens of
small faces stared back at Tommy. "I am. My wife Rosie and I have six
children and one on the way."
"That's wonderful." He pictured himself in a few years, happily sharing
his own family with random strangers. What a soothing replacement Kim's
picture would make for the letter that currently burned in his shirt
pocket. And children, innocent and darling, his very own children. A
few years ago, that would've sounded so corny. Funny how things change
when you grow up.
"Ah," Paulo said. "You have the look of one who loves."
"What does that look like."
Paulo folded the pictues back up. "Bliss. Is your angel meeting you
here?"
"She's here, but not for me. With a friend, they say."
"But you do not believe it?"
"We broke up a while ago. She probably moved on, but I have to at least
try to win her back. I have to tell you, Paulo, I don't think she
reciprocates my feelings anymore."
The waiter stood and brushed the wrinkles on his uniform. "Thomas, if
you honestly thought that, you would not be here. I shall bring you
your drink now, very well?"
"Yes, thank you." Tommy wasn't sure, but he seemed to be thanking Paulo
for something other than the drink. A newfound confidence, perhaps.
Someday, he would have that album to show strangers on the street. The
thought sent his mind back to the photo at the table.
It's been lost on the other side of the country, but here it was, in
front of him. Granted stranger things *had* happened. But what about
the label on the box. That too had seemed a miracle of some sort.
He folded his arms and wondered.
He was there to win back Kimberly Hart.
But was someone helping him?
Gasp! Is someone assisting to our former hero (Or, arguably, our
current hero since he is the protagonist of the story)? Will he ever
actually speak with Kimberly? And just who is this friend she's dining
with? Your answers will be answered in the next exciting chapter of
Flying Home. Same Ranger channel, same Ranger time. Tootles!
Puleaze review! Pleeeaaaaaaze? ^_^ :