Beyond The Call Of Duty

Summary – What life does a ranger lead when they're no longer a ranger? During a power ranger day celebration, the rangers comes back together for a mini reunion and realize their tenure in intergalactic battle have taken tolls on them that they may not be able to repair.

"Dr. Cranston?"

Billy turned from the view of MITs sprawling campus. Had to tear himself away, really. The view was one of the best he could ever have. Tall, picturesque buildings, previously updated by the million dollar grant that some alumni donated to the reconstruction of the campus.

Reconstruction. The idea made Billy smile. The campus didn't need to be reconstructed. It looked as beautiful as ever. Cracks on some of the older buildings had hardly begun to form before construction and landscaping was implemented to seal it over and plant new flower beds. And Billy watched it all happen, knowing it wasn't the campus's physical image the board wanted to improve.

But the hypothetical image. The 'school for nerds' wasn't going to be so 'nerdy' anymore. With modern architecture projected to be added to the buildings, the campus was slowly becoming a juxtaposition; a DC meets San Francisco vibe where the art buildings were slanted this way and that, and the science halls were reminiscent of the Capitol building.

But Billy appreciated it. Had learned to love the school since starting his undergraduate degree a year and a half earlier than the peers he grew up with. And yet, within undergrad, schoolwork had been easy. It'd been easy when he was in elementary school as well, all the way up to high school. He had numerous opportunities to move up grades, probably could've graduated high school by age thirteen had he wanted.

And yet…he wasn't emotionally ready.

Billy was a nerd, in all essence of the word. He liked to take things apart to learn how it worked before putting it together again. (He could still hear his mother's screams in his ears from the time he took apart her vacuum cleaner, just for it to stop working right after). He liked to check out the biggest books of science, technology, and history form the library more so than the juvenile books his classmates easily devoured.

He may as well have put a giant 'kick me' sign above his head in neon. Bulk, Skull and Sharkie jumped on the bullying wagon within seconds of seeing him. Billy didn't like a lot of attention on himself; as much pride as he put into his work, he turned in on himself, made himself appear smaller so that the bullying trio wouldn't notice him. It never worked. They only bullied him harder, and he regressed into his books more.

Even when Kimberly, Jason, Trini, and Zack defended him, he knew he was different. But they still loved him. So, he attached to them, wasn't able to leave them behind even with the amazing opportunity to learn and study at his own level.

He just wasn't ready.

Once leaving Angel Grove, he was ready for anything that came his way. Going from a peace conference to undergrad at MIT, which he breezed through, staying on for Grad school and then receiving his PHD was nothing short of simple for him. Being able to study anything he wanted all the while, was the best part. Intergalactic travels and technologies, all falling beneath biology…while also looking in mythology to quench his history thirst. MIT was a dream for him and he took advantage of that dream.

Allowed himself to leave the life that for, better or worse, would stick with him for the rest of his life.

"Dr. Cranston?"

The question was asked again, this time a bit louder. Startled, Billy blinked and focused on the person that called his name. The older woman, Professor Doan, who had shared the office next to him since he accepted the position of becoming a professor at MIT. She was very prolific in the sciences, especially mechanical engineering. A topic Billy was well versed in considering all the gizmos and gadgets he'd invented over the years.

But, she was tenured and he was not.

It hovered over his head every time the school year came to a close. Made him wonder if going into teaching high school was the better path. It was certainly less stressful. A smile came to Billy's lips at the thought. Dealing with hormone charged teenagers on a day to day basis, teenagers who were very different than himself and his friends when they were teenagers. They worried about the future of the planet, environment, and economy as the days passed.

They cared more about…well…he wasn't quite sure?

The students he had were a bit older; they spoke about parties they went to, dinner with each other, celebrities on shows he didn't routinely watch but looked up to continue holding a rapport with them. When they weren't too busy looking at the phones sitting on their laps.

Billy had a no cell-phone policy in his class, something he took from Professor Doan, who's eagle eyes were able to find offenders and embarrass them, "There's nothing that interesting in your lap," before going along with her lesson plan.

Now, she stood in the doorway to his room, holding onto the doorknob with a withered hand that—upon closer inspection—he saw was shaking. She wasn't getting any younger.

"Yes, Professor Doan, how can I help you?" Billy asked, turning a warm smile her way.

Professor Doan gently shook her head. "I told you before, Billy, you can call me Ruth."

Billy nodded. She had told him before. Had practically demanded it the first day they met. Saying it 'knocked down barriers' and 'kept thing simple' between the fellow professors and students. If they continued to let their titles stand in the way, 'professor', 'Dr.' then how were they to mutually connect and allow themselves to really have a meeting of the minds?

However, Billy'd been raised to always be polite. "Yes, sir,", "No, ma'am,", "I'm sorry?", "Pardon?"

All until he met Zack anyway.

The thought made Billy frown. Zack. Zachary Taylor. He hadn't thought about Zack in years. Wouldn't allow himself to. His stomach rolled, squirmed with the familiar feeling he'd pushed down every time it started to inch its way back up. He'd seen emails and other messages pile up over the years, always pausing for a second before deleting them. Most of the time he'd do it without giving in to his curiosity. Every now and then, one would catch his eye.

He'd glance over it. See the pleasantries as if no time had passed since their last battle. But their wounds—visible and invisible—couldn't be ignored. The brief reminder would have him scramble to delete the message, roll through the guilt that'd seize his stomach, and then bury himself in work to forget it.

They were getting smarter. They figured out the best ways to get to him. A slight puncture in the safeguard he'd put up years before. Billy shook the thought away and focused his attention to his co-worker once more.

"There's only so many things I can compromise on," he apologized. "Addressing people by their titles isn't one of them. It's stuck in me, I suppose." He nodded for her to continue. "You were looking for me?"

"Yes, your phone has been ringing all day." Professor Doan stalked into Billy's office, waving a post-it note in her hand. Held it out as if it was a dog turd she'd picked up off the front quad. "I took the liberty of taking a message for you once whomever was calling for you became impatient."

Billy grimaced, glancing at his desk. Multiple post-it notes sat scattered along the bottom of his monitor and attached to the side of his desk. Some starting to peel from the corners, some already lost their grip and fluttered to the floor, the rest holding still.

How many had he missed and not realized it?

Deadlines. Meetings. Reminders.

Billy could never be accused of being scatterbrained. Focused. Driven. Holding a bit of tunnel vision, maybe. But not scatterbrained. He had an idea he already knew what the message was that was to be given to him.

"I'm not your answering machine," Professor Doan continued. She pressed the post-it note into Billy's chest and gave him a look that others would've withered away from. Billy, on the other hand, had worked with her long enough to know the gleam behind her eyes was of mirth not of irritation. "And I don't expect to be treated like your secretary without some other added benefits."

Billy smiled, taking the note. "What benefits would you like?"

"More vacation days!" She immediately barked. Then her face softened. "To visit my great-grandson more often."

"You're more than welcome to take some time off, I can cover your classes whenever you need it."

"I don't need you to treat me like I'm in the nuthouse already, I have a few more years in me. Once I start to spout off silly things like my head is in the clouds, then you can take over my classes." She turned to leave, only stopping to ask. "And what's this panty day?"

With a start, Billy blinked in surprise. Professor Ruth Doan could be crass and at her age was nothing short of getting right to the point. But he'd never experienced anything that forward from her. "I'm sorry?" He asked.

"Some sort of a day that this guy was telling me about. Saying it was important for you to return to Angel Drove."

It clicked in the back of Billy's head. "Angel Grove?" he asked.

"I know what I said! Yes, Angel Grove! What this panty day he was going on about?"

Billy pressed his lips together. He took in a deep breath through his nose, focused on his lungs swelling before slowly letting it out. A move he'd learned from one of his best friends a long time ago. How fitting.

"It's nothing," Billy said, sincerely. He pressed the post-it note to the side of his desk as he leaned against it. Hoping she didn't notice how he tried to hide it. "Just an event that's going on back in my hometown."

Professor Doan grunted. "Some event," she murmured. She looked Billy up and down, her eyes flickering over his form. Her lips pulled back at the corners. "It's not quite the sort of thing I'd thought you'd be into, but I guess there's a lot of things I don't know about you Dr. Cranston."

Billy smiled. How true that was. Professor Doan shuffled her way out of his office, closing the door behind him, prompting Billy to practically collapse into his chair. He glanced at his desktop computer, eyes sliding over the blue swirling backdrop to the date in the corner.

Only a few days away.

Had it been another year already?

"Panty Day."

Power Ranger Day.

Billy didn't have to re-read the note to know who was the one who had been consistently contacting him.

Tommy Oliver didn't know when to quit.

A/N: Thank you ChibiDawn23 and her story Once A Hero for inspiration for this story that I've been working on for a while. I'm really excited for this one and hope you all enjoy it as well. Also, thanks to SaturdayPeople for looking over this chapter for me.

I was originally going to update Shattered Grid today, but this kept nagging at me. It's not exactly within the Avalon/Bailey series as it does change things that I've written within New Beginning, but it is set in the Dino Thunder era.

~Av