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she put him through, he always speaks fondly of their time together. Never a harsh word uttered about her.

Could she possibly be as perfect as he remembers her? And how I am I supposed to feel, being matched against the epitome of what a woman should be?

And in my angrier moments, I wonder… why am I doing this to myself?

Yes, I love him. I've cared for him since I met him, and I treasure the time we spend together. But... this "relationship" we have is unhealthy. I can't lay my hopes of happiness at the feet a man who only feels lukewarm about me.

A sudden determination I've never felt before seizes my heart, and I rise from my station. I know this probably isn't the best time to confront Tommy about our relationship... this should be done in private, after everything is settled... but I doubt I'll have the courage to do it later. I don't want to talk myself out of this... convince myself that I can make Tommy love me.

At this moment, I feel strong enough to handle whatever conclusion Tommy reaches. I'm that determined to end this rampage of doubt and confusion that's drowning me.

The only way I'll be comfortable near Kimberly is if I know I'm no longer living in her shadow.

So, I tuck my helmet into the crook of my arm, and slowly make my way to the infirmary. Through the closed door I clearly hear several voices, laughing at some joke or fond memory.

I feel my resolve weaken, but I press the entry code anyway before I could consciously decide otherwise. The door slides open, and I hesitantly step inside.

Bulk and Skull are still standing unnaturally erect, babbling something incomprehensible and twitching slightly. Jason reclines at a lab station in the corner, a recent bout of laughter fading as he scans through some information presented on a computer screen. Meanwhile, Tommy and Kimberly are still laughing over something, his deep, heartfelt laugh mixing with her effusive giggle as they pass bio-scanners over the patients' foreheads.

The three are so involved in their amusement, they don't notice me.

"...and remember when... they brought that cage full of cockroaches into the Youth Center, and tried to sell Cockroach Kung Fu?" Kim gasps between giggles.

"Man," Jason sighs, laughing anew, "did you see the look on Zack's face?"

"Zack was about a hair's width from running from the Youth Center," Tommy adds, grasping his stomach. "Now that was a great Bulk and Skull moment!"

I want to smile... to join in the fun. But I can't. I guess I perceive Bulk and Skull differently from the rest. To me, they are the sweet-but-bungling Junior Police Officers, trying so hard to be heroes. But to these veteran Rangers, Bulk and Skull will always be remembered as punks, trying to get everyone's attention through silly hi-jinks.

Once again, I feel alienated. Kim and Tommy are sharing something that I can't be a part of.

I can't stand being an outsider... I have to make my presence known.

"Hi guys," I greet, moving further into the room. "Looks like there's a party in here."

"No party," Kim says, wiping tears from her eyes, "just a stroll down memory lane."

I glance at Tommy, trying to read his expression. He's smiling at me, still a little flushed from the laughter. He doesn't look at all guilty, or displeased to see me.

I guess that's a good sign. At least he doesn't think I'm intruding.

"So how are the patients?" I inquire.

"Still dazed and confused," Jason reports. "We've figured out that their brain patterns have been royally screwed up by whatever weird brainwashing method Divatox used. There's really nothing we can do. Hopefully Zordon will be able to de-program them."

My gaze shifts around the room aimlessly as I consider the best way to speak to Tommy alone. I decide on the direct approach. "Well, if you guys aren't doing anything terribly pressing, would you mind if I stole Tommy for a second?"

"You got it," he responds amiably, grabbing his helmet from a nearby table. He throws a quick wave to Jason and Kimberly, and follows me outside the infirmary. Once the door slides shut behind us, Tommy's gaze grows curious.

"Is something wrong?"

I must admit... that question makes me angry. I know he's not the most observant person in the world, but how can he possibly not see how awkward this situation makes me feel?

I take a breath, stubbornly holding on to my composure while the last flickers of hope suffered a slow death. I must have read more into our relationship than was really there. Perhaps I interpreted a few casual dates as something significant... whereas he didn't...?

I shiver, dread sitting in my stomach like a stone. I try to ignore its cold weight, in an effort to remain rational and calm during our upcoming conversation. My hand is numb as I weave my fingers through his.

His dark eyes narrow in confusion.

"Not here," I murmur, giving him an insistent tug. "Let's go to the bridge."

Silence reigns as we walk side by side, hand in hand. He doesn't ask a single question, or offer any resistance. I try hard not to think too much about his reasons. When we reach the abandoned bridge, I tune in to the steady hum of the computers, the echoes of our footsteps, and the sliding of the doors behind us.

I release his hand, letting him hover near the door, while I move further into the cockpit. My helmet drops onto my seat, and my nervous hands fold over the back of my seat, grasping the leather tightly. Squeeze, relax... squeeze, relax.

I swivel the chair just enough to look at him, studying his face with the same analytical stare Billy always wore when he examined computer readouts.

I can tell my gaze surprised Tommy... as well as disturbed him. But he still doesn't say a word.

"Tommy," I begin, a sigh evident in my voice, "we... we never... talked about... us."

His eyes widen for a moment. Surprise. Then, his brow furrows. Confusion. "What do you mean, 'talk'?"

I exhale, annoyed that I have to be terribly blunt. "About what you feel for me."

There's a... chill in my voice that I didn't intend to inflect. Still, the tone registers with him. His gaze falls from mine, as his free hand nervously rises to his head, rubbing the nape of his neck.

His most common nervous reaction.

I do feel horrible for doing this to him. I remember quite well the story Billy told me about Tommy and Kim's relationship. In fact, in preparation for the skiing trip we took after the Letter, Billy summarized the key milestones of the relationship. What surprised me was how long it took Tommy to confess his feelings. It was evident to all the other Rangers that Kim liked him from the very start, and Kimberly Hart cannot be in any way considered a subtle person. She was giving all the hints... but Tommy still hesitated.

He has always been hesitant with matters of the heart, and considering how his last relationship ended, I can imagine it would only make him more hesitant to wear his heart on his sleeve.

I almost regret doing this to him.

Almost.

After all, I have a right to know.

The silence is nerve-wracking. I know the longer he struggles with a response, the grimmer his words will finally be.

So I backpedal, restating my question.

"Let me put it this way," I state, pushing away from my seat. I walk around the console, making more room between us. As if physical space will make the indecision in his eyes hurt less. "What do you feel for me in relation to what you presently feel for Kimberly?"

I'm not going to touch the idea of our relationship in comparison to his romance with Kim. I'm not masochistic. He and I are only just beginning, whereas he and Kim were together for so long, and had experienced so much, I can say with absolute certainty that they were unquestionably in love.

What I'm focusing on is the present. This very moment. Because this very moment will decide our future. If we can have one...

Taking a breath, I find the resolve to search his gaze again. And this time, when I meet his eyes, they don't falter. This time, he understands what I mean. His eyebrows rise slightly, as if realization finally dawns on him.

His lips twist. A pout. Sympathy.

I brace myself.

"I'm sorry, Kat."

He falls into silence again, searching for the right words to convey his feelings. I deflate instantly, my eyes brimming with the frustration and sadness that had made me heartsick.

I lost him. No... I never even had him to begin with.

"...I'm sorry for how I've... been acting," he says, after a painfully long moment.

I stare at him, startled. A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"I didn't even think about it, or how it would make you feel," he confesses self-consciously, "I've always protected Kimberly. It's funny actually... half the time she didn't really even need my help. It's like an instinct. I saw her in danger, and, I went into autopilot. I felt I was failing her."

A lost expression overcomes his face. It's clear to me he's sorting through these feelings for himself, as well as for my own benefit.

"She depended on me, once upon a time. Jason never really did. So, I felt that she... needed me again. I couldn't let her down."

I sniffle quietly, squeezing my eyes closed with all the strength left in me.

I wish I could tune out the tenderness in his voice. He really misses the connection he had with Kim. He loved being her White Knight, probably more than she loved being his Pink Princess.

I feel so weak. It's the feeling of surrender.

I can't compete with this kind of idealized love. This kind of... fantasy.

My distress cuts me off from the rest of the word with the brutal force of a guillotine. So lost in my misery, I hardly perceive anything at all… until red-sheathed arms suddenly embrace me.

I jump, so surprised by Tommy's sudden proximity I nearly choke on my freed sobs. He rocks me gently, holding my head against his shoulder and patting my hair with his hand.

I stiffen, perplexed by his reaction. This is not the way to break up with your girlfriend!

"Y... you still love her." I put the feelings that had been plaguing me for so long into words. "Not me... her

."

I want to be angry. I want to push him away, scream at him, slap him... something

.

Instead, I crumble into his arms. It's amazing how comfortable I feel in his embrace, despite the rending of my heart.

"I... do love Kim," he sighs, helpless, "but... it's different now. Distant. If that makes any sense."

I'd been crying outright, but this revelation silences me instantly. I hold my breath, waiting for him to finish.

He caresses my hair with more affection than he's ever outwardly shown me. "Spending time with her again made me realize how special she is. She's a terrific, caring person. She's different now, though. Not quite... the Kimberly I fell in love with."

Another thoughtful silence. "We're all different

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