Mighty Morphin Power Rangers/Power Rangers Lost Galaxy by Heather Ray (web based ebook reader .TXT) 📕

And so he decided… a restaurant that was comfortable and casual, decently priced with a good variety of enjoyable food. Also, it had to serve alcohol… he would definitely be needing a beer or two to settle the butterflies.

He smiled widely when it dawned on him. Perfect! Small, cozy, relaxed… with great food! And even entertainment… if I get the guts to do it.

But he couldn't call her yet. Oh no… not until everything

was figured out.

And so he called the restaurant, just to make positively certain it was open (although he couldn't think of a reason why it wouldn't be)

, and that there weren't any special events that would make it either unavailable or too crowded. Then, he brutally tore through his suitcases, searching for the perfect outfit… casual, but not too casual… and definitely

not goofy.

He had tried on nearly a dozen combinations until he finally settled on something that looked passable. He selected a pair of dark brown corduroys and a winter-white ribbed turtleneck… clean-cut and stylish.

Then, after laying out his clothes on his bed, his gaze slid to the phone again. He stared at it for more painful minutes… until trembling fingers built the courage to dial the number.

"Hello?"

"Hi Kim, it's me… Skull."

"Hey Skull! What's up?"

He chuckled weakly. "Well… I wanted to know if you were still free for a bite tomorrow night."

The few moments of silence beat like an eternity in Skull's tortured mind. "Don't worry about it. I understand you have things to do. You don't have to keep me company."

He felt panic beginning to rise. "No! I mean… I have plenty of time to handle the depressing stuff." He paused, a furious blush rising on his cheeks. "I figure I should maximize my time with you… c..considering you're one of the few friends I have that haven't left the solar system yet."

He moved the receiver away from his lips as he drew in a shaky breath. How did I manage to get that

out?!

He heard her soft giggle, and quickly pressed the phone to his face again. "I certainly can't say no to that,"

she breathed, her laughter distorting her words slightly.

Skull grinned broadly. "So I'll pick you up in the hotel lobby at seven-thirty?"

"Perfect."

He arrived at the hotel lobby at seven o'clock. It was a combination of a paranoid fear of running late, along with a much faster than normal walking pace, that lead him to judge the time it would take to walk the few blocks from his apartment to the hotel so poorly.

He stood in the lobby by the elevators, considering his options. He definitely didn't want Kim to know he was early… he didn't want to seem so pathetically eager to see her again. And after some thought, he decided against visiting Eddie. His brother was a terrific guy, but to hear the more rational Skullovitch thoroughly trounce his hopes and dreams with a healthy dose of reality didn't sound too appealing.

So he purchased a newspaper at the small convenience store, and sat down in the lounge. He began skimming through the apartments in the area.

But… there's nothing keeping me in Angel Grove,

he suddenly realized. I'm not close enough to Mom and Dad to stay nearby, and with Bulkie and Dr. Phenonemus gone, I don't have close friends or a job here.

He sighed, closing the newspaper and staring out at the darkened city through the large windows. The people I care most about are Ed, his family, and Kim. And they live in Florida…

"Skull? You're early!"

Skull jumped in surprise, and looked up. Leaning against his lounge chair was Kimberly, smiling down at him.

Skull blinked, glancing at his watch. "It's a quarter after," he realized, rising to his feet, "Why're you down so early?"

It was then, when he had a clear look at her, that a smile of appreciation touched his lips.

Of course, she would look great no matter what she wore… but there was something about her selection that made her simply stunning. She wore a form-hugging deep green cashmere sweater, partially hidden by the soft leather jacket that hung over her shoulder. Her simple black bootleg pants were low-rise, allowing just a peek of her stomach, and black leather boots lifted her about three inches from the ground. Her sun-kissed hair was twisted in the back, held tight with an oval barrette that perfectly matched the green of her turtleneck and nail polish. The look was completed with silver hoop earrings, long silver chain, and the silver charm bracelet.

He'd seen her in so many outfits… floral prints, airy sundresses, daringly short-shorts and cropped sweaters… but this outfit was so different that it amazed him.

Back in high school she looked almost ethereal… a pale pink goddess with free-flowing hair and a giggle in her voice. But now, there was a different sort of playfulness in her dress. She was a sophisticated, confident woman now.

And he discovered that, instead of the distant adoration he always felt for the pink goddess, he felt a new kind of appreciation. Something more mature than hiding roses in her locker, or hovering over her shoulder.

Something bolder.

"Well, I was ready, so I thought I might as well wait down here," she answered. Her eyebrow arched when she noticed the distant smile on his lips. "What's so funny?"

He couldn't help it… he almost did laugh at the expression on her face. "Nothing, I… I just don't think I've ever seen you wear dark colors before. And leather?"

She smirked, thrusting out her hip as if she were posing for a magazine. "Don't like it?"

"No, I love it!" he hastily amended, "I just thought you wore… pink."

She laughed, and he pursed his lips in embarrassment. "I'm not the only one who's broadened their horizons," she commented, her head bobbing as she looked him over, "You look surprisingly sophisticated."

He pouted dramatically, which completely undermined the feigned hurt in his voice. "'Surprisingly'?"

She shrugged, her smile widening. "What happened to all the daring leather?"

"Looks like you stole it!" he carried on, "Who'd ever believe it… Kimberly Anne Hart, Fashion Queen of Angel Grove, stealing the trademark style of a goofy punk!"

She laughed at that, the same silver-bell, heart-felt revelry he remembered so clearly. "As if!"

She was so incredible! She'd matured, but still carried that streak of sunshine that made her… her. And the way she carried herself, so casual and light-hearted, made her that much more accessible.

He felt his insecurities slowly melt away with every ring of her laugh. Either he was different, or she was different… probably both. Whatever it was, all those ancient fears of acting like a buffoon in her presence were fading into amusing memories.

He clearly remembered the feelings of inadequacy… of feeling like a troll in the shadow of her unearthly beauty and grace. But now, the playing field had leveled somewhat. Just maybe… she wasn't so far out of his league.

She finally calmed down, and slid on her jacket. "Besides," she said, "I don't see any 'goofy punks' here."

She didn't realize it, but Skull's heart swelled with the simple, off-hand comment. He'd changed a great deal since high school… and she noticed it. And liked

it.

"Gene! Is that a girl

with you?!"

Skull frowned, throwing the tall, middle-aged bartender a withering glare. "Yes, Petey, it's a girl."

Pete Richards, the friendly proprietor of the Midnight Soul restaurant and bar came around the bar, and wrapped the lanky young man in a hug. "It's good to see ya, Genie! I thought you high-tailed it off the planet with Farcus!"

Skull sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Well… that was the plan, but once again I royally screwed up."

Pete grinned, shoving Skull's shoulder playfully. "Hey, little Bro'… did you ever think that just maybe

, you're destined for something different? If I remember right, you get airsick and

seasick! Space-travel don' sound like it's right for you."

Skull sighed again. "I… don't know. I guess I need time to figure it all out."

Pete glanced sidelong at Kimberly, his cheerful grin shifting into a mischievous smirk. "Look on the bright side, Gene! If you had left the planet, you probably wouldn't be spending the evening with such a lovely young lady."

Skull inhaled sharply.

Pete stepped past Skull, and smiled warmly to Kim. He offered his hand. "Pete Richards, but all my friends call me Petey."

Kim smiled, shaking his hand. "Kimberly Hart. Call me Kim."

"Kim. You must be pretty special for Gene to bring you here on your first date."

Skull's chin dropped.

Kim's eyebrow quirked. "Oh really? And what makes you think this is our 'first date'?"

Pete answered with a knowing grin. "Well, it must be. If I

had such a fine lady in my life, I wouldn't dream of leaving the planet! The way I see it, you must've just walked into Gene's life. And he must like you if he's ready to play for you on your first date!"

Skull's face was rapidly turning crimson. "Petey…" he growled.

Kim's curious gaze slid between the smug look on Pete's face, and the embarrassed fury that reddened Skull's cheek. "Play?"

Pete winked. "You'll see. Your regular table's free, Gene."

Skull answered with a narrow-eyed glare, and led the way to a tiny wooden table tucked neatly in the corner of the cozy seating area, only a few yards from the stage, directly in front of the grand piano. Kim's eyes were wide with wonder as she took in the darkened restaurant, with posters and memorabilia of dozens of famous soul, R&B, and jazz performers. The tables were almost filled with conversing groups or couples, as well as those who quietly listened to the smooth saxophone playing from the wood stage against the far wall.

Kim smiled excitedly, and sat