"Let her retrieve the information herself. There is no need for my participation."

"She can not." Cetaci's words made Saryn pause and turn his head to the side, clearly waiting for an explanation.

Cetaci seemed to brace herself, but when she spoke her tone was firm. "She has been banned from the Ranger dome. Her misuse of Ranger equipment is unacceptable, and I will not allow her back until she learns respect for the chain of command."

There was silence for a moment, and Kerone waited impatiently by the door. Her brief encounter with the woman had convinced her that she was dangerous--the kind of person she would have had under guard on the Dark Fortress--so she couldn't say that the news bothered her.

Saryn did not seem upset either, though Cetaci seemed to expect him to be. "Good," he said, turning away again. "She can send someone else for the data, then. I have nothing to say to Linnse."

He strode through the door without another word, and only long practice allowed Kerone to fall into step beside and slightly in front of him. She fully intended to return to the control room, and wasn't going to change direction unless he said something.

He didn't, and when they reached the control room he simply folded his arms and waited for her to speak. Reaching for her locket, she raised her eyebrow at him. "Are you planning to stay morphed?"

He just tilted his head, giving the impression that he was looking at her. But he still did not speak, and she wondered if he had any idea how irritating that was.

With a deliberately casual shrug, she swept her arm upward, from waist to shoulder. Her magic wrapped itself around her, transforming her jean shorts and purple blouse into the attire she had last worn as Astronema. The weight of long hair wasn't as familiar as it used to be, and she twisted her head briefly, trying to get used to it again.

He did not react.

Reaching for her locket once more, she tugged it free and removed the data disc. Slipping it into one of the Aquitian readers, she felt the movement of air that meant he had stepped up beside her. He was quiet, too--she couldn't imagine how he did it in that armor.

The data flashed by too quickly for her to read on the main screen, and she frowned. "How do I make it display one frame at a time?"

He did something to the console, turning his head toward the screen. She followed his gaze and nodded in approval. The first frame had been enlarged to cover the whole screen, and the data had paused so that the layout it revealed was readable.

"That--" Saryn's voice made her look over her shoulder in his direction, and she saw him nod at her. "That is somewhat distracting."

Taking him to mean her Astronema guise, she retorted, "So is yours!"

"The Phantom Ranger is who I am," he said, his tone cold.

"And Astronema is who I am," she answered calmly.

"It is not. You have changed from the person you were."

She stared back at him. "So have you. Demorph, or deal with it."

For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. Then he sighed, a sound she found odd coming from the Phantom Ranger, and reached up to touch the ruby on his chest. There was a brief flash, a sparkle of light that was more red than black, and his armor melted away.

She watched as his uniform disappeared--she had never seen him demorph before, and it was a strange transition to watch. One moment, he represented one of the strongest forces for good on this side of the universe, an "enemy" she had tried to defeat many times over. The next, he was nothing more than a boy, one maybe her own age, whose too-long hair hid the saddest eyes she'd ever seen.

Without the flamboyance of her earlier gesture, the magic shimmered around her again. She didn't have to look down to know that her appearance had returned to normal. He nodded mutely, and she gave him a half-smile.

He turned back to the console without returning the expression.

***

"That's the heaviest shielding on the ship," Kerone was telling him, pointing to one link of their already established network. "A detonator there would be lucky to get *noticed*, let alone cause damage."

"You did not raise that objection before," he replied, staring up at the grid displayed on the screen.

"Because I thought the detonators had a limited range," she retorted. "I didn't know the network would stretch any thinner than that."

"If it will still respond to the signal from, say, here--" Kerone gestured at the screen, and a violet point of light glowed briefly next to an exterior section of the hull. "That's a much more vulnerable point."

The violet glow faded, and he stared without seeing at the map in front of them. They all had vulnerable points, didn't they. The Rangers, Dark Spectre... him. No one existed without weakness.

"Saryn?"

He looked over at her. "Yes?"

"The detonator network can handle that, right?"

"Of course," he answered, turning back toward the main screen. "If these schematics are correct, the ship is not large enough to test the limits of simultaneous detonation."

"They're correct," Kerone informed him, her icy tone barely registering. "Ecliptor would not betray us."

"He wouldn't betray *you*," he corrected, gazing straight ahead.

"As long as I'm with the Rangers, it's the same thing." She followed his gaze. "If you have doubts, say something now."

He had more than his share of doubts, and this mission was far from the least of them. Not only were they going into it without Alliance backing and with the barest minimum of planning, the very information they were basing it on was suspect. No matter what Kerone said, Ecliptor was a marginal ally at best.

"Saryn, talk to me," she demanded.

His control snapped. *Shut up!* he shouted furiously, trying to silence the memory. *Just let me be!*

For the briefest moment, the memory that seemed to be on continuous replay within his mind quieted, and he became aware of the echoing silence of the control room. Glancing over at Kerone, he found her staring back at him, her eyes wide.

He tried to remember what she had said last, but she spoke before he could recall the thread of their conversation. "Did I do something wrong?"

He frowned. "No. Of course not."

He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the ceaseless reminder of that horrible exchange. "You have done nothing. What did you ask me?"

"I asked... if you have doubts about the information Ecliptor gave us," she said carefully, still watching him.

"No," he said with a sigh. "I have gone into battle with less reliable information. We do the best we can with what is available."

She didn't reply right away, and he hated the quiet. It only let him hear Cassie's voice all the more clearly, her tone apologetic even as he turned away from her. She had not followed. He had been given one chance to forgive her, and he had not taken it.

Was that all he was to be afforded? Once chance to dismiss an anger that had flared fast and hot on the heels of his jealousy, overwhelming him with its suddenness? After years of feeling little but the cold desire for revenge, his heart was waking up, and he wasn't sure he liked everything he found in it.

Kerone's words wrenched his attention back to the control room. "Saryn--I shouldn't be able to hear you in my head like that."

He focused on her again, dread flooding through him. "What?"

"You told me to shut up," she told him. She didn't seem particularly upset, but her expression was unavoidably curious.

He struggled not to let his dismay show on his face, but he suspected it was a losing battle. There was no way things could get any worse. Aura had been covering for him more lately, blocking his empathic projections without complaint or question, but his mental control seemed to be getting worse rather than better.

"I did not," he said, not knowing whether she would believe him or not. "I am--sorry; I did not mean for you to overhear that."

"But you can't *do* that," she said, clearly puzzled. "I thought you were an empath. Empaths don't project words."

He sighed, turning to the console and bracing his arms against its edge as he stared down at it. "So I'm told. I am sorry. That thought was not directed at you."

"Cassie?" she asked, and his head jerked up. "Do you fight often?" Kerone continued mildly. "Because neither of you is much use to anyone like this. How long does it usually take you to make up? And do you think you could you speed the process up some?"

He glanced over at her. Her expression was completely serious, and he felt a reluctant smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "We are that obvious."

"More," she agreed. "Does this happen a lot?"

He tried not to sigh, clenching his fists against the console before pushing away from it. "No. I have never fought with her like this, and this time I am afraid there may be no way to reconcile."

To his surprise, Kerone laughed. It was his greatest fear, and she waved it away like it was inconsequential. "Saryn, Zhane and I fight every day. What makes you think this is any different?"

He looked away. "Zhane does not want you to be someone other than who you are."

"You think that's what Cassie wants for you?"

*How could she not?* he wondered. *If she had been given a choice in whom she loved, I never would have had a chance.*

"I heard that," Kerone warned him.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Thank you," he muttered, pouring as much concentration as he dared into the shield around his mind. It should not require this much effort--he could almost hear Lyris chastising him for working too hard--but it was the best he could do so quickly. Cassie had been right when she said he should speak to Cestria. He couldn't keep this up.

"Why do you think Cassie wants you to be different?" she asked, doing him the courtesy of ignoring the thought he had unintentionally projected.

He folded his arms, irritated to realize he was cold. He had not planned to demorph again, and his jeans and t-shirt were not adequate protection from Aquitar's chill. "She asked something of me today," he said with a sigh. "The first serious request she has made in weeks, and I could not honor it."

"For you to stop being jealous," Kerone surmised, and he couldn't help giving her a startled look.

"Yes. How did you know?"

" 'Stop it'," she said calmly. " 'You are doing exactly what you accused me of.' "

The statement confused him until he recognized his own words coming from her mouth. "You have a photographic memory."

She shook her head. "Sometimes. Saryn, you can't turn feelings off. Believe me, I've tried. What she asked was impossible."

"I tried, too," he said quietly. "She asks so little--it is a rare occasion when I can get her to tell me what she wants, of late."

There was silence for a moment, and he did his best to strengthen the shielding he had been able to establish. Kerone's curiosity finally vanished from his mind, unnoticed until it was gone, and he felt some measure of relief at that. Perhaps he would at least be able to control his empathy until all of this was over, and there was time to deal with it again.

"Do you always try to do what Cassie wants?" Kerone asked at last.

He shifted a little, wondering how she could stand the temperature of the control room. "I would do anything she asked, were it within my power."

Kerone tilted her head to one side. "Maybe she doesn't want that kind of responsibility," she said slowly.

He frowned, struck by the considering tone in her voice as much as by her words. "What do you mean?"

She didn't answer right away. Then, at last, she said, "Leadership. I asked Andros about it--why his team is so different from Cetaci's. He said they treat their teammates differently. Cetaci expects loyalty, and Andros expects cooperation."

"The Astro team is loyal," he said, trying not to take offense.

Her lips quirked upward. "That's not what I meant. And you're missing the point. Cetaci tells her teammates what to do. Andros asks us what we think. He *expects* us to question him, where Cetaci doesn't."

Obviously, she was trying to tell him something, but he had no idea what it could be. "I do not understand," he admitted.

"By doing whatever Cassie says, you're making her a leader," Kerone said carefully. "By not questioning her, you're giving her... responsibility for you. Cetaci takes that kind of responsibility naturally. Andros can--I've seen him do it--but I don't think he likes it."

She paused, staring thoughtfully at the console for a moment. When she looked up, she added, "Maybe Cassie doesn't like it either. Maybe she doesn't want to live your life on top of hers."

Stung, he drew back. "My life is my own. I do not ask anyone to live it for me."

She sighed. "Maybe I'm wrong. I don't know either of you that well." Then she proved she was more observant than he had given her credit for by adding, "Would you go put something warmer on? You've been trying not to shiver for the last five minutes."

"Elisia is a desert planet," he muttered, wondering how many hours they had been holed up in the empty control room. "Aquitar is too cold for me."

He surprised himself by complaining, but she did not seem to think it odd. "It's humid, too," she agreed mildly. "I never expect that, when spaceships are so dry. If you want to change, I'll rearrange the network and make sure we have the right passcodes for the new route."

He hesitated, but the offer appeared to be genuine. And he did not doubt her ability to handle the task. "Thank you," he said at last.

She only nodded.

He almost groaned. He did not want to relive that particular memory even one more time, but it seemed determined to haunt his thoughts forever. He made his way to the door leading to the Ranger quarters, touching the keypad and escaping into the safety of the deserted hallway before Kerone could see his distress.

What if she was right? What if he had put too much pressure on Cassie, however unintentionally? What if Cassie felt responsible for anything he did at her wish? Could she possibly think he would blame her for something he chose to do of his own accord? What if she flirted with Zhane to *escape* that "responsibility"?

What if he never got the chance to find out? What if he never had the chance to make amends?

He swallowed, resisting the temptation to lean back against the wall and let the world collapse around him. She had given him his chance. Now it was up to him to make another one. He didn't know precisely what time it was, but it couldn't be that late--he would finish his work with Kerone and find her, tonight.

He strode forward resolutely, inputting his code into the touchpad by his door. He didn't bother to turn the lights up; the dim light that already pervaded the room was enough to see by. Cassie didn't like the dark when she was alone--the newfound phobia seemed to be an unexpected result of her experience with the evilyzer ray--and he had gotten in the habit of leaving the lights on at some minimal level in their room even when they were both absent.

He was shrugging into a black wraparound tunic when the sound of movement made him freeze. He let the block he had struggled so hard to establish in his mind fade just a little, almost holding his breath as he cast about for a second presence in the room.

He turned slowly, not knowing whether to cry out in frustration or sigh in relief. Cassie lay curled up on their bed, pressed against the far wall and almost invisible under the blankets. Her breathing was slow and quiet, indistinguishable from the hum of the generator until he listened for it, and her expression was peaceful as she slept.

He didn't know how long he stood there, just staring at her. She couldn't be truly angry with him if she was here, could she? She could far more easily have slept on the Megaship--what *time* was it, that she was sleeping at all? Aquitar's time difference was not helping his already overloaded mind come up with any kind of answers.

Would she forgive him if he woke her? He would never be able to sleep for wondering why she had come, and he couldn't go back to work knowing that she was here...

But he had to. Some things had to be done, and this mission plan was one of them. It would distract him, for a time, and with luck, *something* would have changed by the time he had to decide again whether to wake her or not.

Tearing his gaze away from her, he finished tying his tunic and headed for the door. He couldn't talk to her like this anyway; he couldn't even keep his *own* emotions straight, let alone sort through someone else's. And if they fought again--

"Saryn?"

Her whisper, sleepy and vulnerable as the bed creaked underneath her, proved his undoing. He paused in the doorway, looking over his shoulder despite the promise he had made to himself to leave without looking back.

Her loose nightshirt slid off one shoulder as she struggled to sit up, and she swung her bare legs over the edge of the bed. His throat closed up and he couldn't speak, sudden desire for her making his skin tingle--this was all he needed; to think of her like that on top of everything else.

He turned around and fled.

***

"Saryn..."

For a brief moment, he was silhouetted in the doorway. The lost and lonely look she had seen that afternoon in the Medical bay was gone, and only a stern shadow remained. It regarded her, and she tried desperately to clear the fog from her mind. But even as she tried to sit up, his imposing figure turned and disappeared into the light of the hallway.

She pushed herself to her feet, stumbling across the warm floor toward the still-open door. "Saryn, wait!" she cried, catching the doorframe to steady herself.

Aura was in the corridor too, but she only had eyes for Saryn. He brushed past the Red Ranger, bumping her shoulder with no apology or even a backward glance. Her words had no effect on him, and the control room doors closed behind him before she could catch up.

"Cassie?" Aura's concerned query finally got her attention.

She glanced down, realizing how odd she must look, standing in the corridor in nothing but an oversize nightshirt. Why had she ever worried that Saryn took her too seriously? He had been a Ranger for six years with powers she was only beginning to understand, and he was known all over the universe. She was just a teenager from some backwater planet that barely even had spaceflight.

"What am I doing?" she asked the floor softly. "What was I *thinking*?"

"Cassie," Aura repeated. The other girl was suddenly at her side, a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"What have I ever done to deserve him?" Cassie whispered, lifting her head to meet Aura's gaze. "How could I have been so awful to him, when he puts up with so much and never even complains?"

Aura seemed to have no response for that, and Cassie looked away again. Saryn was strong--he had been alone in the universe since she was in junior high, and he had never needed anyone to tell him how to live. If he was devoted to her, it was only because he chose to be, not because he wanted someone to tell him what to do.

"He loves you," Aura said quietly.

Cassie looked at her in surprise. She had expected the Red Ranger to slip away without another word, her lack of criticism a kind of moral support in and of itself. But Aura was still there, studying her and reminding her of what Saryn had told her never to doubt.

"Yeah," Cassie murmured, looking toward the control room again.

"He does," Aura insisted. "He has told you so, has he not?"

She nodded wordlessly. He had told her so over and over, and she had thought it was the one thing she would always be sure of.

"Words like that do not fade because of a few angry moments," Aura told her gently. "Whatever argument you have had, it can not possibly be enough to make you question something like that."

Cassie sighed. "You don't know what I said."

"And he doesn't care," Aura replied quietly, an odd note in her voice.

She looked over at the other girl, startled by the look of envy that flashed across the Red Ranger's face. "I shouldn't tell you this," Aura whispered, her rain-grey eyes locked with Cassie's. "But he runs from you because he is afraid that you are angry with him, not because he is upset with you."

She stared at Aura, remembering Billy's words from a time that seemed so long ago now. "They're not really allowed into our heads unless it directly relates to Ranger business." With the close familiarity of the current Aquitian team, that rule had obviously fallen by the wayside some time ago. But there was a difference between touching someone's mind to say hello and searching through it for something they didn't want to reveal.

"I did not violate his privacy, if that is what you are wondering," Aura murmured, lowering her gaze. "Except by telling you what he projected--but you are both my friends, and I do not like to see you unhappy for no reason."

"He... projected that?" Cassie asked, torn between relief and dismay. "Why is his empathy so out of control all of a sudden?"

"It is not sudden," Aura admitted, glancing up at her. "I have been blocking for him more often than he knows, I think. It has been growing steadily worse."

"But why? He never used to have this problem."

"He did," Aura corrected. "It used to happen less, but anything he feels strongly he can not seem to contain."

Cassie sighed. "Cestria offered to help. She taught me; there's no reason she couldn't teach him."

When she paused, Aura agreed, "She would not mind..."

"But it isn't her," Cassie said finally, when the other trailed off. "It's him. He--blames his empathy, for something that happened a long time ago."

The sympathy in Aura's expression said she understood. "I am sorry for what he has suffered," she said quietly. "But I fear the longer he ignores this problem, the worse it will get."

Cassie nodded wordlessly. *What he has suffered...* The words rang in her ears, reminding her of how selfish she had been. Her friends were not his friends, and she couldn't just pretend he had always been one of them.

He had had his own friends, his own life--something that was now gone. She couldn't expect him to instantly adjust to hers, had no right to even ask him to be a part of it if he didn't want to be. That he loved her did not change the person he was.

"I have to talk to him," Cassie murmured.

She turned, meaning to return to their room, but Aura's words stopped her. "He is lucky," she said, "to have someone who cares so much for him."

"So am I," Cassie said softly, hoping it wasn't too late to tell him that. "Thanks, Aura."

***

"We *can't* teleport on," Kerone was reminding him impatiently. "You know as well as I that the entire ship is shielded against teleportation."

"But your teleportation is not dependent on the Power."

"It doesn't matter." She tossed a violet sparkle at the main screen, pointing out a line of data he had already seen. "The shield is magically generated; you can see that for yourself."

He knew she had almost reached the limit of her tolerance with his distraction, but no matter how he tried he couldn't get that image of Cassie in her nightshirt out of his mind. And every time Kerone spoke, he heard Cassie calling after him to wait. Had that been his second chance?

"Saryn." Kerone's hand on his shoulder yanked him out of his reverie, and he lifted his gaze to her inadvertently. "You need to--"

Doors slid open on the other side of the room, and she broke off.

"Kerone?" Cassie's voice asked softly.

Saryn stiffened, pulling away from Andros' sister and turning reluctantly to face Cassie. She was standing in the doorway, pink Astro sweatsuit over top of her nightshirt and a ribbon that had long since come unwound in her hair. He stared back at her, not sure he wanted to know what she would read into the situation after what had happened this afternoon.

She didn't look upset. Her tone didn't change as she asked, "Could you give us a few minutes?"

It wasn't lost on Saryn that Kerone looked to him before answering. He saw the gesture, but he couldn't look away from Cassie. Finally, Kerone nodded once. "I'll be in auxiliary control," she said, turning toward the lift.

Cassie watched her go, and Saryn watched her, frozen, waiting on her words. He couldn't seem to make himself speak, afraid that anything he said would be the wrong thing, that it would somehow make things worse between them.

As the lift doors closed, she turned back to him. Instead of coming over to him, though, she put her hands behind her on the monitor console and hopped up on it. He was tempted to smile, but couldn't afford to relax enough to allow that simple expression. Cetaci had objected loudly the first time she had done that.

"Saryn?" she asked, her voice more tentative than it had been a moment ago. "I'm sorry..."

It was the last thing he had expected her to say, and he could think of no way to reply. His silence only seemed to make her more nervous, and she looked down at the floor. "I was way out of line to say anything to you about Kerone," she continued, fidgeting where she sat. "I was wrong to assume anything, and I shouldn't have reacted like that."

He wanted to tell her that he respected Kerone, that he was finally beginning to think it was possible for them to be friends, and that that was as far as it went. How could she ever think he was interested in someone else when he had lost his heart to her so long ago?

Instead what came out of his mouth was, "Perhaps now you know better how I feel."

Her head jerked up at that, and he saw her flush. Hands braced on the console to either side of her, her gaze locked with his across the empty room. "I'm so sorry," she whispered at last. "You don't know how well you hide things, even now. I didn't--"

She took a deep breath, slowing the flood of words and starting again. "I thought if you knew I loved you, seeing me with Zhane or someone wouldn't matter. We're just friends...

"But when I saw Kerone take your hand this afternoon, I just wanted to run over and--" She gestured helplessly. "I don't know! She hasn't looked at anyone but Zhane since she came to Earth, and somehow I still thought..."

"I have never wanted anyone but you," he said quietly.

"I know," she said, looking away.

"But it doesn't help," he finished. "The fear comes anyway, isolating you and making you--"

"Angry," she said, lifting her head. "That's exactly it. I saw you with her, and I tried not to care, but I just couldn't, especially after you were mad at me for the volleyball thing--"

"Volleyball thing?" he interrupted, watching her reach up to flip her long black hair over her shoulder.

She blushed again, and he felt his lips quirk involuntarily. Did she have any idea how pretty she was when she did that? "When you wouldn't play," she explained, "I thought you were upset with me for something."

"I simply did not want to participate," he told her gently. "I am still uncomfortable with so many people, and I had not fully recovered from--the morning's fight." He knew it sounded like an excuse, but he had the right to make a simple choice without having to justify it.

She gazed at him, and he couldn't help adding, "You must not take it personally when I do not react as one of your friends might."

For some reason, that made her flinch, and he straightened. If he had known it would distress her, he would not have said it.

She tugged at one of her sleeves, twisting it around her fingers uncomfortably, and just as he was about to speak she said, "You're right. I'm sorry if I've ever made you do something that you didn't--"

"You have not," he interrupted, and she started a little. He tried to soften his tone, knowing he had been too vehement. "I make my own decisions, Cassie. You have never forced me into anything."

She looked up, and the look in her eyes made his heart melt. It was all he could do not to cross the room and wrap her in his arms. "If I sometimes do your bidding," he murmured, feeling her gaze draw him in, "it is only because I wish to please you. Not because you have made me act against my will."

She swallowed, but she did not look away. "Then... you weren't mad at me."

He smiled a little. "I was not."

"Even when--I yelled at you, about Kerone?" she asked tentatively.

"I was angry then," he said slowly. "But I understand what you were feeling all too well. And you must know that I could never stay upset with you for long," he added quietly.

"I'm sorry," she said, shifting her weight on the console and looking at him uncertainly. "I should never have said what I did--"

"I understand," he repeated, cutting her off. "Believe me when I say it."

She hesitated, and there was something in her expression that he didn't recognize. He felt the frustration she had so often complained of, that of not knowing her well enough to judge her reactions, and he tried to put it aside.

"I do believe you," she said at last, smiling a little. "You know I do. Can you--forgive me?"

"If you can do the same for me," he answered, daring to hope that this could all end now.

She actually giggled, and he felt the hope growing inside him. "I don't have anything to forgive you for. But I will, if you want."

"I do," he murmured, seeing her smile widen.

She slid off the console and practically skipped over to him, turning her face up toward him expectantly. "Yours is more important--you go first."

He couldn't help smiling back at her, his gaze flickering across her face as he said softly, "I forgive you."

She leaned into him when he kissed her, clutching his arms and reminding him suddenly, vividly, that she was still in her pajamas. He clenched his fingers, resisting the temptation to put his arms around her, knowing he would never be able to let go if he did.

With an effort, he turned his head away from her and said breathlessly, "Your turn."

"I forgive you," she whispered, laying her hand alongside his face to turn it back toward her. "I like making up," she added in a murmur, kissing him again.

He chuckled at that, tilting his head toward the ceiling as he put his arms around her. *Thank you,* he said fervently, addressing some spirit that might or might not be listening. *Thank you for this.*

Then he felt her lips brush against his neck, and he caught his breath sharply as she pressed closer to him. "Do not do this to me," he said softly, hoping she would not listen.

With a sigh, she drew back. "You're too busy," she murmured. "Sorry--I just... I missed you," she admitted, searching his expression.

It had only been that morning that they argued, but the empty place in his heart had made it seem so much longer. Delighted to hear her confess his own feelings, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers, pulling her against him again.

"Not very convincing," he heard her murmur, but she could not have truly spoken. He kissed her harder, letting her thoughts swirl around him and hoping desperately that she could drown out all the other voices for a little while.

She relaxed into his embrace, but a moment later he heard clearly, *You're not blocking anymore.*

"No," he whispered, letting his forehead rest against hers as he tried to catch his breath. "I don't have to, around you."

She smiled, not understanding, and he didn't try to explain. He was so glad to be able to hold her again that nothing else seemed to matter. Her love was the one thing that the universe still had to take away from him, and without it he would be nothing.

"I'll let you and Kerone get back to work," she murmured, letting her fingers trail across his face.

He sighed, not meaning to, and found he couldn't take his eyes off of her. "Must you?" He didn't even realize he'd spoken aloud until she giggled.

The shriek of the intruder alert cut off any more conversation, and he hugged her closer instinctively before he recognized the sound. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the lift, responding without thinking to the piercing noise--

Until Cassie resisted, tugging on his hand and shouting his name above the sound of the alarm. He turned to her in question, and saw her pointing up at the flashing intruder alert... and the conspicuously silent Ranger alarm system below it.

"Another drill!" Cassie said loudly, leaning closer to be heard above the wailing of the alert. "I wish Cetaci would pick better times to mess with our heads!"

He shook his head, irritated by the timing. This was the second such drill since the Barox had overrun the command center dome, and Cetaci had not been pleased with the response time on the last one. "Why does she insist on creating crisis when there is none?"

"What?" Cassie tilted her head toward him, leaning even closer in an attempt to hear.

"We have to get to auxiliary control," he said instead, speaking almost directly into her ear.

She turned her head, and the look in her eyes caught him by surprise. "Don't we?" he said uncertainly. He didn't think he had spoken loudly enough for her to hear above the alarm, but she shook her head at him.

She pulled him toward the door leading to the living quarters, where they would at least be able to talk over the sound of the intruder alert, and he let her lead him. As the doors slid shut behind him, the noise was muffled enough that he could hear himself think, and he shot her a questioning look.

"I was sleeping when the alarm went off," she told him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his chest. "You had just come in to change--pretty bad timing, huh?"

"Cassie," he warned. He knew where she was going with this already, and he knew, too, how tempted he would be if he let her finish.

"So we *heard* the alarm," she continued, oblivious. "But the containment protocols must have malfunctioned, because the doors wouldn't--"

"Cassie," he repeated, pushing her away and placing two fingers over her mouth. "We are Rangers. It is our duty--"

She kissed his fingers, wrapping her hand around his and stepping closer. "Duty isn't everything," she said quietly. "You know no one's in danger, Saryn."

"That is not the issue..." He trailed off as she wound her fingers through his hair, pulling him close for a kiss. He let her do it, his heart pounding as her lips teased his, making him long to remind her of the proper way to kiss one's lover.

"Kerone will be busy with everyone else until the drill's over," she whispered, brushing his hair away from his face and giving him another gentle, lingering kiss. "And you can't work with the central computer locked down anyway..."

He tried to remember why he was protesting. "Cetaci will ask--"

"I don't care," she replied, kissing him again. As before, it was only the fact that her mouth was pressed to his that let him know she was thinking rather than speaking. *I'm trying to seduce you, Saryn. If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so.*

He closed his eyes, delighted by her frankness. But there had only ever been one answer that he could give, and he suspected she knew it.

*Do not stop,* he begged, kissing her hungrily as he gave in to her touch. He felt her freeze momentarily as the words echoed in her mind, and he ran his hands across her back in an attempt to soothe her. He had to remember not to talk like that...

"No," she insisted, burying her fingers in his hair and forcing him to look at her. "I like hearing you that way."

He stared back at her, and with her wide eyes only inches from his he could not doubt the truth of her words. *I am glad,* he said tentatively. She caught her breath, but she smiled at the same time and leaned forward to kiss him.

Then she squeaked as he caught her up easily in his arms, cradling her close as she threw her arms around his neck. Her gaze lifted to meet his as he carried her down the hallway, ignoring the wail of the intruder alert in favor of her warm embrace and the promise of her touch.

"You are a terrible influence on me," he murmured, kissing her forehead.