A Friend
by Starhawk

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stopped dead in his tracks.

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

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

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

"I suppose not," was all he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes were wide. "What?"

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

He swallowed, then nodded wordlessly.

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

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

She nodded, unable to speak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where should I--"

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

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

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

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

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

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