Post by Jade_Max on Jul 28, 2008 22:48:54 GMT -5
July 2008
Title: Calamity Kim’s Conundrum
Author: Jade_Max
Rating: T
Timeframe: Wild West Rangers AU
Disclaimer: Power Rangers and their affiliates belong to Disney and are used without permission and no money is being made off of this. I’m simply destroying the sandcastles in their sandbox
Summary: Sometimes you just have to take what you’re given and carpe diem... seize the day
Author’s Notes: I blame this entirely on Liz who wanted to see Tommy pout
Thank you Liz! 
Everything takes place the same, pretty much, I’m simply telling the story from a different angle – and throwing in a monkey wrench or two. I suppose I should mention it really is a T/K fic...
--------
Calamity Kim’s Conundrum[/u]
Introduction
Tommy’s father has just returned from a trip to Arizona and brought with him a rare cactus that Tommy requested he bring with him as a gift for Kimberly. Moments after receiving the cactus, Lord Zedd and Rita steal the rare plant for their evil machinations but leave behind green goo in its place. Upon discovering the neon substance, the Rangers decide Zordon needs to be involved to analyze it. While teleporting to the Command Center, Kimberly has been sucked into a time hole and dropped in Angel Grove’s past...
Part 1
The startled exclamation that echoed as she hit the ground was her first clue something was different... aside from the fact she’d entered a teleport standing upright and almost been dropped on her face. Only finely honed reflexes saved her from a face plant and those only barely. As her head came up the first thing she noticed was the smell.
Fresh air. The breeze tousled her hair and drew fresh sage, pine, pinyon, and fir deep into her lungs as she inhaled. It smelled like she wanted her garden to smell – unpolluted and untainted. The feel of the ground under her hands was gritty, digging into her knees in a way only the untouched outdoors could – and the sounds weren’t those she was expecting. The view, to say the least, stole what little breath she’d managed to grab.
Greenery stretched out before her stunned gaze and her heart stumbled over itself in her chest. No matter how much she wanted this to be the Command Center, this wasn’t it.
A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach was followed by a moment of blinding panic as she took a second, good look around. Green and brown stretched as far as the eye could see, the mountainous terrain seeming to be impassable and a small ribbon of brown that wound between them the only likely pathway out. Somewhere above her in the clear blue sky, a bird of prey screamed its cry. The sound reverberated through the hills and back to Kimberly making her shiver.
“Woah...gosh...” fumbling about to put her hand beneath her so she could get to her feet, she darted another look about. “Where am I?”
There was no answer to her question as she stood, darting an almost frantic look about her, heart racing in her chest. This was not good, not good at all. Where was everyone, where was she? This was nowhere near the Command Center and nowhere she recognized near Angel Grove. In fact, she couldn’t even see Angel Grove and there should have been some indication of its skyscrapers and large abandoned warehouse district. She should have been able to see something – but there was nothing but countryside as far as the eye could see. Shaking out her wrists in an outward expression of her anxiety, her communicator settled comfortably at the base of her hand and she seized it like a lifeline. Lifting it to her mouth, she touched the transmit button. “Zordon?” She called for him first for the simple fact that he’d always helped her through tough spots – but right on the tail of his name, she called for another.
“Tommy?” The high pitched, shrill tone in her voice – laced with fear, confusion and a touch of desperation – would have made her wince at any other time. Yet, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to do. He’d rescued her from so much that a part of her knew he’d save her from this too; if she could reach him. The immediate thought followed and sent her hopes for rescue plummeting when Tommy didn’t answer. They probably didn’t even know where she was. If they didn’t know where she was, how could they rescue her?
“Anybody?”
As that last, desperate plea died and no answer was forthcoming, Kimberly knew she was on her own – and the realization struck as two individuals on horseback began meandering her way. Determined not to draw their attention, she darted a look about for some place to hide and spied a large bush several feet away. Glancing back to ensure they hadn’t seen her, she crept quickly towards it, taking shelter in its large boughs. She blinked, frowning as she thought she recognized the individuals.
But Bulk and Skull on horseback?
As she listened to their conversation, their speech patterns and accents sounded funny and off. So funny, it lent the whole surreal experience a sort of crazy credibility – but she couldn’t put it past the duo to try and pull one over on her. They’d spent a good deal of their time harassing her before Tommy had become her friend. The man was a positively dreamy White Knight even if he rode a Tiger instead of a Horse.
Bulk and Skull – or rather the two individuals who wore their faces - rode beyond her hiding place and into position, seeming to be some kind of outlaws bent on attacking a carriage that was coming up the road way. What was going on – was she stuck in some kind of re-enactment?
Darting forward and keeping low to the ground, she surrendered her leafy and somewhat dubious hiding place for a rock that was two dozen yards away. Thankfully the two bandits had eyes only for the so-called stage coach and she was able to move forward unseen. Confusion roiled predominantly through her system as she watched the seen unfold from her new hiding place.
Adam... and Rocky?
What was going on here? Were her friends playing a joke or was this something else? And since when did Adam know how to handle a team of horses, or was that just something she hadn’t known about? The sound of pounding hooves coming in from the side drew her attention and a man – it had to be a man – dressed in all white and a white cowboy hat came racing in mounted on a white charger. Almost like some kind of avenging angel... or...hero?
What hero rode a white horse? This wasn’t some fairy tale where the knight rode in to rescue the damsel in distress on his horse!
Shaking her vision as if to clear it, she peered back at the action having totally missed whatever – if anything – the new addition to the drama playing out before her had said and was in time to hear Bulk call the newcomer the White Stranger.
“The White Stranger?” echoing the name of the man before her, Kimberly angled her head, trying to get a better view of the white-clad man – with no luck. The One-eyed Bulk, as he was being called, was blocking her view of the newest addition and something in his voice as he spoke sent a shiver of recognition through her.
She knew that voice.
It wasn’t until the outlaws had been driven off in disgrace that she caught a full on view of the White Stranger’s face. Standing slowly, she stared at him, riveted.
Tommy. The White Stranger was Tommy; a man on a white horse ready to save her just like she’d always dreamed. Things seemed to happen in slow motion as he toed his horse towards her, unfazed by the way her jaw had dropped or how she was openly staring at him. And who wouldn’t stare?
Dressed in white from head to toe except for a salmon colored neck cloth and a green band around the base of his hat, the man sat astride the horse as if born there. The way her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes glided over his features – identical to the ones she’d seen and kissed barely minutes before at the Youth Center - and down across the fit of his jacket and white pants down into white cowboy boots.
Wow.
The man could dress like a cowboy. It was when he opened his mouth and tilted his hat with a cute little half smile that the information overload became too much.
“Can I help you miss?”
Tommy’s voice but not; Tommy’s smile but not; Tommy’s eyes – but not. That Tommy – or whoever he was – stared at her with polite interest that showed no hint of recollection was too much to handle on top of everything else. Her eyes rolled back in her head as darkness closed in about her.
---------
The White Stranger’s smile faded as the girl behind the rock fainted dead away, collapsing to the ground before he was able to slide from his horse to catch her. Dismounting, he moved to her side – and stopped.
Her face had drawn him – an angelic heart-shape with a cupid’s bow mouth curve that could tempt a saint. It was her eyes that caught him, though, the disbelief – and appreciation – clearly reflected in her gaze made him smile. She was a pretty little thing with wind tossed hair that indicated she’d likely dropped her parasol somewhere along the road.
Now, seeing her for the first time in her entirety – he’d only caught the blush pink of her top before and privately remarked to himself how the color suited her – he wondered if his first impression of innocence and maturity had been wrong. She was dressed in clothing like nothing he’d ever seen. A short pink top that barely covered her decently from the shoulder to mid-stomach and exposed her entire midriff paired with the skirt which barely fell to mid-thigh made him think of things that were scandalous in nature.
Things no young, innocent miss should know about – and ones this one in particular didn’t appear to know at first glance.
Kneeling beside her, he didn’t dare touch her. “Miss?”
There was no response except the even rise and fall of her chest, clearly visible thanks to the scrap of material that covered her chest. He’d never seen so much expose skin outside of the bedroom – or a brothel.
“Miss?”
Again, she failed to respond and his chivalrous instincts kicked in. Whoever she was, whatever kind of woman she was, she deserved his help – and he was man enough to admit she’d peaked his interest. Few women caught his attention at first glance and held it after the initial introduction, but this one – regardless of her strange dress – had done so. An instant connection and attraction unlike anything he’d ever felt.
Removing his jacket, he lifted her with one arm and slid it around her body, unwilling to allow the two stagecoach drivers to see her just yet. He closed the front of the jacket, regretting that it didn’t cover more of her legs, before lifting her in his arms. She was a featherweight, unlike any working woman he’d ever held and didn’t smell like them. Something rose up within him – something primal and primitive – and he knew without a doubt she wasn’t what she seemed nor what he’d assumed her to be.
Her predicament and her strange dress called to him as much as the way she’d first looked at him had. Whatever it was he’d said or did to make her faint made her his responsibility. Turning, he found the stage coach drivers were climbing down to assist him and he instead moved to meet them. “Either of you folks know this little lady?”
Both men examined the woman who lay snugly in the White Stranger’s arms, though neither made any move to take her. After a careful inspection, both shook their heads.
“Never seen her around these parts.”
“Can’t say that I do. She appears to know you, White Stranger.”
“Few women know me, sir.” The White Stranger tilted his head politely to the two men. “Have ya’ll got something to wrap her in? She appears to have had a clothing mishap.”
The taller of the two – in the red shirt – nodded and scrambled back towards the coach. The shorter of the two inclined his head in a silent leave taking and proceeded to check the horses to see if the excitement had harmed them in any way. Alone once again with the unconscious young woman, the White Stranger couldn’t resist the temptation to examine her more closely.
She was a pretty little thing that might have come up to his shoulders when standing. The scandalous view he’d gotten of her legs and the eyeful of skin showed her to be a healthy, strong young woman despite her seemingly sickly weight. The boots and clothing were unlike anything he’d ever seen – certainly not farm attire. The satin of her legs was like silk on his arm where her bare legs lay in the crook of his elbow and he was doing his best to remind his hormones he was a gentleman and the lady was not only unconscious but as much of a mystery as he tried to be.
A beautiful mystery.
That little mouth of hers begged to be kissed and he remembered well the curve of it in a small smile, his imagination already have filled in the radiant expression she would wear when smiling all out. Her cheeks were aristocratic and high, framing a pert nose and almost perfectly proportioned forehead and eyes. Eyes... they were the color of sable and sand; easy to read and emotive - even for him. If it was simply the way she’d looked at him, or if it was something else because of who she was looking at hadn’t been answered.
The sound of the tall young man who rode on the stage coach alighting from the coach brought him back to his senses and the White Stranger realized his head had bent towards the young woman he held, his gaze focused on those slightly parted lips. With more difficulty than he’d thought possible, he looked away.
“I’m Rocko, White Stranger. I can’t thank you enough for your help.”
“Help this lil Lady and we’ll call it even, Rocko.”
“I set up the blanket in the back so you can lie her down all comfortable like.”
And suddenly the White Stranger knew he couldn’t go with them. He relied on hit and fade tactics to keep the outlaws on their toes and the desire to stay and watch out for the young miss while she had adequate protection was dangerous. Not only to his continued survival and plan, but to her if anyone saw what he saw in her. He could shadow the coach, but riding with them was out of the question.
With reluctance, he deposited the young lady inside the coach, relieving her of his jacket as he did so. He regretted exposing her once again to the public view, everything within him screaming to deny others the sight of her, but it had been her choice to be out in that clothing – and if that was the case she wouldn’t likely find it as indecent as he did.
His mouth went dry and, turning away, he couldn’t resist running one index finger down her arm and then, daringly, down the outside curve of her leg. Shrugging into his jacket, he tilted his hat to the stagecoach drivers. “Take good care of her, ya hear?”
“You can count on us, White Stranger!”
Nodding, he took a run at his horse and vaulted to the saddle. Rearing him up, he saluted with two fingers against his hat and gave the magnificent animal its head. Someway, somehow, he was going to forget that enchanting and mysterious stranger in the back of the stagecoach. He just didn’t yet know how.
Title: Calamity Kim’s Conundrum
Author: Jade_Max
Rating: T
Timeframe: Wild West Rangers AU
Disclaimer: Power Rangers and their affiliates belong to Disney and are used without permission and no money is being made off of this. I’m simply destroying the sandcastles in their sandbox
Summary: Sometimes you just have to take what you’re given and carpe diem... seize the day
Author’s Notes: I blame this entirely on Liz who wanted to see Tommy pout
Thank you Liz! 
Everything takes place the same, pretty much, I’m simply telling the story from a different angle – and throwing in a monkey wrench or two. I suppose I should mention it really is a T/K fic...--------
Calamity Kim’s Conundrum[/u]
Introduction
Tommy’s father has just returned from a trip to Arizona and brought with him a rare cactus that Tommy requested he bring with him as a gift for Kimberly. Moments after receiving the cactus, Lord Zedd and Rita steal the rare plant for their evil machinations but leave behind green goo in its place. Upon discovering the neon substance, the Rangers decide Zordon needs to be involved to analyze it. While teleporting to the Command Center, Kimberly has been sucked into a time hole and dropped in Angel Grove’s past...
Part 1
The startled exclamation that echoed as she hit the ground was her first clue something was different... aside from the fact she’d entered a teleport standing upright and almost been dropped on her face. Only finely honed reflexes saved her from a face plant and those only barely. As her head came up the first thing she noticed was the smell.
Fresh air. The breeze tousled her hair and drew fresh sage, pine, pinyon, and fir deep into her lungs as she inhaled. It smelled like she wanted her garden to smell – unpolluted and untainted. The feel of the ground under her hands was gritty, digging into her knees in a way only the untouched outdoors could – and the sounds weren’t those she was expecting. The view, to say the least, stole what little breath she’d managed to grab.
Greenery stretched out before her stunned gaze and her heart stumbled over itself in her chest. No matter how much she wanted this to be the Command Center, this wasn’t it.
A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach was followed by a moment of blinding panic as she took a second, good look around. Green and brown stretched as far as the eye could see, the mountainous terrain seeming to be impassable and a small ribbon of brown that wound between them the only likely pathway out. Somewhere above her in the clear blue sky, a bird of prey screamed its cry. The sound reverberated through the hills and back to Kimberly making her shiver.
“Woah...gosh...” fumbling about to put her hand beneath her so she could get to her feet, she darted another look about. “Where am I?”
There was no answer to her question as she stood, darting an almost frantic look about her, heart racing in her chest. This was not good, not good at all. Where was everyone, where was she? This was nowhere near the Command Center and nowhere she recognized near Angel Grove. In fact, she couldn’t even see Angel Grove and there should have been some indication of its skyscrapers and large abandoned warehouse district. She should have been able to see something – but there was nothing but countryside as far as the eye could see. Shaking out her wrists in an outward expression of her anxiety, her communicator settled comfortably at the base of her hand and she seized it like a lifeline. Lifting it to her mouth, she touched the transmit button. “Zordon?” She called for him first for the simple fact that he’d always helped her through tough spots – but right on the tail of his name, she called for another.
“Tommy?” The high pitched, shrill tone in her voice – laced with fear, confusion and a touch of desperation – would have made her wince at any other time. Yet, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to do. He’d rescued her from so much that a part of her knew he’d save her from this too; if she could reach him. The immediate thought followed and sent her hopes for rescue plummeting when Tommy didn’t answer. They probably didn’t even know where she was. If they didn’t know where she was, how could they rescue her?
“Anybody?”
As that last, desperate plea died and no answer was forthcoming, Kimberly knew she was on her own – and the realization struck as two individuals on horseback began meandering her way. Determined not to draw their attention, she darted a look about for some place to hide and spied a large bush several feet away. Glancing back to ensure they hadn’t seen her, she crept quickly towards it, taking shelter in its large boughs. She blinked, frowning as she thought she recognized the individuals.
But Bulk and Skull on horseback?
As she listened to their conversation, their speech patterns and accents sounded funny and off. So funny, it lent the whole surreal experience a sort of crazy credibility – but she couldn’t put it past the duo to try and pull one over on her. They’d spent a good deal of their time harassing her before Tommy had become her friend. The man was a positively dreamy White Knight even if he rode a Tiger instead of a Horse.
Bulk and Skull – or rather the two individuals who wore their faces - rode beyond her hiding place and into position, seeming to be some kind of outlaws bent on attacking a carriage that was coming up the road way. What was going on – was she stuck in some kind of re-enactment?
Darting forward and keeping low to the ground, she surrendered her leafy and somewhat dubious hiding place for a rock that was two dozen yards away. Thankfully the two bandits had eyes only for the so-called stage coach and she was able to move forward unseen. Confusion roiled predominantly through her system as she watched the seen unfold from her new hiding place.
Adam... and Rocky?
What was going on here? Were her friends playing a joke or was this something else? And since when did Adam know how to handle a team of horses, or was that just something she hadn’t known about? The sound of pounding hooves coming in from the side drew her attention and a man – it had to be a man – dressed in all white and a white cowboy hat came racing in mounted on a white charger. Almost like some kind of avenging angel... or...hero?
What hero rode a white horse? This wasn’t some fairy tale where the knight rode in to rescue the damsel in distress on his horse!
Shaking her vision as if to clear it, she peered back at the action having totally missed whatever – if anything – the new addition to the drama playing out before her had said and was in time to hear Bulk call the newcomer the White Stranger.
“The White Stranger?” echoing the name of the man before her, Kimberly angled her head, trying to get a better view of the white-clad man – with no luck. The One-eyed Bulk, as he was being called, was blocking her view of the newest addition and something in his voice as he spoke sent a shiver of recognition through her.
She knew that voice.
It wasn’t until the outlaws had been driven off in disgrace that she caught a full on view of the White Stranger’s face. Standing slowly, she stared at him, riveted.
Tommy. The White Stranger was Tommy; a man on a white horse ready to save her just like she’d always dreamed. Things seemed to happen in slow motion as he toed his horse towards her, unfazed by the way her jaw had dropped or how she was openly staring at him. And who wouldn’t stare?
Dressed in white from head to toe except for a salmon colored neck cloth and a green band around the base of his hat, the man sat astride the horse as if born there. The way her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes glided over his features – identical to the ones she’d seen and kissed barely minutes before at the Youth Center - and down across the fit of his jacket and white pants down into white cowboy boots.
Wow.
The man could dress like a cowboy. It was when he opened his mouth and tilted his hat with a cute little half smile that the information overload became too much.
“Can I help you miss?”
Tommy’s voice but not; Tommy’s smile but not; Tommy’s eyes – but not. That Tommy – or whoever he was – stared at her with polite interest that showed no hint of recollection was too much to handle on top of everything else. Her eyes rolled back in her head as darkness closed in about her.
---------
The White Stranger’s smile faded as the girl behind the rock fainted dead away, collapsing to the ground before he was able to slide from his horse to catch her. Dismounting, he moved to her side – and stopped.
Her face had drawn him – an angelic heart-shape with a cupid’s bow mouth curve that could tempt a saint. It was her eyes that caught him, though, the disbelief – and appreciation – clearly reflected in her gaze made him smile. She was a pretty little thing with wind tossed hair that indicated she’d likely dropped her parasol somewhere along the road.
Now, seeing her for the first time in her entirety – he’d only caught the blush pink of her top before and privately remarked to himself how the color suited her – he wondered if his first impression of innocence and maturity had been wrong. She was dressed in clothing like nothing he’d ever seen. A short pink top that barely covered her decently from the shoulder to mid-stomach and exposed her entire midriff paired with the skirt which barely fell to mid-thigh made him think of things that were scandalous in nature.
Things no young, innocent miss should know about – and ones this one in particular didn’t appear to know at first glance.
Kneeling beside her, he didn’t dare touch her. “Miss?”
There was no response except the even rise and fall of her chest, clearly visible thanks to the scrap of material that covered her chest. He’d never seen so much expose skin outside of the bedroom – or a brothel.
“Miss?”
Again, she failed to respond and his chivalrous instincts kicked in. Whoever she was, whatever kind of woman she was, she deserved his help – and he was man enough to admit she’d peaked his interest. Few women caught his attention at first glance and held it after the initial introduction, but this one – regardless of her strange dress – had done so. An instant connection and attraction unlike anything he’d ever felt.
Removing his jacket, he lifted her with one arm and slid it around her body, unwilling to allow the two stagecoach drivers to see her just yet. He closed the front of the jacket, regretting that it didn’t cover more of her legs, before lifting her in his arms. She was a featherweight, unlike any working woman he’d ever held and didn’t smell like them. Something rose up within him – something primal and primitive – and he knew without a doubt she wasn’t what she seemed nor what he’d assumed her to be.
Her predicament and her strange dress called to him as much as the way she’d first looked at him had. Whatever it was he’d said or did to make her faint made her his responsibility. Turning, he found the stage coach drivers were climbing down to assist him and he instead moved to meet them. “Either of you folks know this little lady?”
Both men examined the woman who lay snugly in the White Stranger’s arms, though neither made any move to take her. After a careful inspection, both shook their heads.
“Never seen her around these parts.”
“Can’t say that I do. She appears to know you, White Stranger.”
“Few women know me, sir.” The White Stranger tilted his head politely to the two men. “Have ya’ll got something to wrap her in? She appears to have had a clothing mishap.”
The taller of the two – in the red shirt – nodded and scrambled back towards the coach. The shorter of the two inclined his head in a silent leave taking and proceeded to check the horses to see if the excitement had harmed them in any way. Alone once again with the unconscious young woman, the White Stranger couldn’t resist the temptation to examine her more closely.
She was a pretty little thing that might have come up to his shoulders when standing. The scandalous view he’d gotten of her legs and the eyeful of skin showed her to be a healthy, strong young woman despite her seemingly sickly weight. The boots and clothing were unlike anything he’d ever seen – certainly not farm attire. The satin of her legs was like silk on his arm where her bare legs lay in the crook of his elbow and he was doing his best to remind his hormones he was a gentleman and the lady was not only unconscious but as much of a mystery as he tried to be.
A beautiful mystery.
That little mouth of hers begged to be kissed and he remembered well the curve of it in a small smile, his imagination already have filled in the radiant expression she would wear when smiling all out. Her cheeks were aristocratic and high, framing a pert nose and almost perfectly proportioned forehead and eyes. Eyes... they were the color of sable and sand; easy to read and emotive - even for him. If it was simply the way she’d looked at him, or if it was something else because of who she was looking at hadn’t been answered.
The sound of the tall young man who rode on the stage coach alighting from the coach brought him back to his senses and the White Stranger realized his head had bent towards the young woman he held, his gaze focused on those slightly parted lips. With more difficulty than he’d thought possible, he looked away.
“I’m Rocko, White Stranger. I can’t thank you enough for your help.”
“Help this lil Lady and we’ll call it even, Rocko.”
“I set up the blanket in the back so you can lie her down all comfortable like.”
And suddenly the White Stranger knew he couldn’t go with them. He relied on hit and fade tactics to keep the outlaws on their toes and the desire to stay and watch out for the young miss while she had adequate protection was dangerous. Not only to his continued survival and plan, but to her if anyone saw what he saw in her. He could shadow the coach, but riding with them was out of the question.
With reluctance, he deposited the young lady inside the coach, relieving her of his jacket as he did so. He regretted exposing her once again to the public view, everything within him screaming to deny others the sight of her, but it had been her choice to be out in that clothing – and if that was the case she wouldn’t likely find it as indecent as he did.
His mouth went dry and, turning away, he couldn’t resist running one index finger down her arm and then, daringly, down the outside curve of her leg. Shrugging into his jacket, he tilted his hat to the stagecoach drivers. “Take good care of her, ya hear?”
“You can count on us, White Stranger!”
Nodding, he took a run at his horse and vaulted to the saddle. Rearing him up, he saluted with two fingers against his hat and gave the magnificent animal its head. Someway, somehow, he was going to forget that enchanting and mysterious stranger in the back of the stagecoach. He just didn’t yet know how.
