Gaby, Jimmy Duran, Frank Kelly, Gunn, Kane, Quinn, Pamela, and Dennis Myers are mine.
Rated PG-13 : Harsh language; strong sexuality; violence; mature themes including child abuse and prostitution.
This story is much darker and more adult than my previous ones, I'm not kidding with the PG-13.
Takes place after the events of 'Time Over', in my AU version of Time Force. You don't need to have read the previous stories, but it helps, especially to explain how Jen got to stay in 2003.
"I wish you wore a uniform. That would be hot."
Wes Collins grinned, leaning against the headboard of his bed. Their bed. He was watching Jen get dressed for work, admiring the way the morning sun slanting in the windows of his large bedroom outlined the curves of her body and glinted off her shoulder-length brown hair as she buttoned up her blouse. After three months, he still felt a thrill every morning when he woke to find her there beside him, knowing she wouldn't have to leave in a few days or weeks, knowing they could have a future together, without limits.
She turned to throw him a smile. "I know what you mean. That Guardian uniform really does something for you."
He jumped up and went to her. "Care to back that statement up with some action?" He swiped at her backside.
"Wes! Cut it out!" She glared, but ruined the effect with a giggle. He laughed and grabbed at her again. "I'm serious, Wes. Stop it. I'll be late for work."
"Oh, all right." He grinned and sat on the bed again. "Officer Jennifer Scotts. Sounds strange."
"That's Detective Scotts, now."
"Right. Sorry." Wes smiled again. Jen had made detective only a few days before, after a quick training period in the Silver Hills Police Department. It was amazing how fast she had been hired and promoted, considering she had no job history -- in this time period. Wes's father, Alan Collins, had a lot of connections, and a lot of money. He had managed to come up with all the records and papers necessary for Jen to start her new life in 2003. Wes suspected his father had also pulled a few strings to get her career moving so quickly, but didn't want to ask.
"Scotts. We hardly ever use our family names, in my time -- in the future. Feels strange to hear it all the time. But I'm getting used to it."
"I still wish you had joined the Guardians instead. We could have worked together."
"Working together and living together? It might not have been a good idea. Besides -- you know I want to do this on my own."
Wes nodded. They had discussed the situation at length. She could have joined the Silver Guardians, Bio-Lab's elite security force, and worked with Wes and his partner, Eric Myers. Wes's father was Bio-Lab's CEO and owner. He would have been happy to hire her. But there were two large problems involved.
Jen was a natural leader and had already worked with both Wes and Eric as equals, in fact Jen had been in charge of the original team of Power Rangers that she and Wes had been a part of. The Guardians already had two commanders, and there was no room for another one. The SHPD offered more opportunity. Perhaps more important, Jen wanted to make a career of her own, apart from Wes and his father. He knew she had found it disturbing to be so completely dependant on them when she suddenly was stranded in this time, two hundred years in the past, from her point of view. Jen was nothing if not fiercely independent, it was one of the things Wes liked about her.
Jen had come from the year 2200. It was only three months ago that she had become a permanent part of 2003, after several shifts in the timeline had somehow integrated her into her own past. Wes knew she had wanted this, to stay with him, and make a life together, but he still worried about her. Adjusting to a new home, a new job, and new friends would be hard on anyone. It must be even worse to try to fit into a different time, too, and to know you could never return.
"You ever miss it?" he asked. "Your own time?"
Jen gave him a long glance. "Of course. I miss the people... but I'm happy here."
"I hope so." He tried to lighten the mood again. "I guess this time seems awfully tame to you. No evil mutants."
She laughed. "I don't miss that part. There's plenty of evil humans here, just like in my time."
"Lucky for you, or you'd be out of a job."
"Lucky for you, too."
"And we hardly ever need to morph. Do you miss it?"
"We should be glad we're not needed as Power Rangers. It can get pretty nerve-wracking, having to save the world every other week. I'm happy just to be an ordinary cop."
"There's nothing ordinary about you." Wes smiled, glancing at the morpher on his wrist, and the one on hers. They might not need the powers and weapons the morphers gave them, as Rangers, but the two of them -- and Eric -- still wore them. You never knew what might happen.
She picked up her bag, now completely dressed. "Well, I'm ready. You leaving?"
"Yeah. Can't be late, Dad might fire me." He followed her through the door and took her hand as they descended the wide, curved stairway to the marble-floored, antique-decorated foyer of the house they shared with his father.
Outside, he glanced up at the wide blue sky and around at the expanse of lawn and shrubbery as they walked through the small flower garden in front of the house. It was another beautiful day. He pulled Jen into his arms for a goodbye kiss, then waved as she got into the car they had given her. He climbed into his own car a moment later and followed her down the long driveway and out to the main road.
"Eric, stop it… mmmff…" Gaby's voice was cut off as Eric kissed her, squeezing her tightly and then letting go, backing away with a grin. He sat on the side of the bed in her small, cluttered bedroom and watched her give him a disapproving look and then a smile. "You're going to make me late. Again," she said, and returned her attention to her clothing, starting to tuck in her shirt.
"I'm not stopping you." He got up and moved closer again, his fingers reaching to start undoing her buttons, then straying to more interesting targets. She lightly slapped his hands away, laughing. "You're going to be late, too," she informed him.
He smiled. It still surprised him, how comfortable he felt in this place, with her. How much more comfortable his own house seemed when she was there. Comfort was not something that came easily to Eric. The way she teased him might have been annoying from anyone else except maybe Wes, but from her... it relaxed some of the tension and anger he so often felt, despite how well his life had been going lately.
"I'm already dressed," he said.
"Well. Let's see if we can do something about that." With a predatory gleam, she came closer, slipping her arms around him, and pulled at the equipment harness of the navy blue uniform he wore as co-commander of the Silver Guardians. He pushed it back into place as she brought her hands between them and began to unbuckle his belt. He laughed and grasped her wrists.
"Oh, Eric, I'd do anything for a man in uniform!" she sighed theatrically. Her voice dropped as she added, "And even more for a man in spandex."
"I may hold you to that. And it's not spandex. It's some future stuff."
"Who cares? Your ass still looks great in it," she said, twisting her hands free and sliding them around his hips to grab that part of his anatomy and pull him against her.
"Hey! Cut it out!"
"Yes sir, Mr. Myers, sir!"
"That's Commander Myers."
"Excuse me, Commander Myers." She did it again. "Ha! Don't like it so much when I do it, do you?"
"I like it a little too much… I'm going to be in no condition to show up at work." He hugged her again and bent his head to kiss her neck, then straightened and stepped back reluctantly. "We really have to go. I have to meet with Steve."
"Oh, but it's okay for me to be late..." She fastened her buttons again, smiled, and stuck her tongue out at him.
"Put that away unless you're going to use it," he said with another grin. She laughed.
They were in Gabriella Butler's small apartment, cluttered with books, electronics, comics, and clothing left carelessly lying about. Eric wondered again why he liked being here so much, when he normally disliked having anything out of place. He cast a last glance around as they left, out of habit, checking that everything was secure and in order. Except for Gaby's usual untidiness, it was.
They paused in the street in front of her apartment building. Eric squinted up at the morning sun. It was going to be another beautiful California day. He turned to Gaby, giving her a quick kiss.
"I'll see you at work."
"Yeah. See you." After another smile, she walked to her car and got in.
He got into his own car, watching as she pulled out, wondering if he should have asked her to come to his house that night. They had fallen into the habit of spending three or four nights a week together, and he hesitated to make it more frequent, to let her expect to see him every night. And maybe she wouldn't want to anyway. Briefly he wondered what he wanted, and had to admit he missed her on the nights they were apart.
It was too soon, they had only been dating for a few months, still getting used to each other. It was an adjustment, sometimes a difficult one for Eric, who had been a loner all his adult life. He still wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of being close friends with Wes, being treated almost as a part of the Collins family, as he had been for over a year. It was even harder to adjust to being in a romantic relationship, with its greater rewards and greater dangers.
It was lunchtime, the sun high. Jen frowned up at the sky. She was standing with her partner, Jimmy Duran, in front of a very unwholesome-looking hotel, in one of the less reputable parts of Silver Hills. The building had once been nice, as the neighborhood had once been desirable, many years ago. Now it was old, and showed the signs of neglect. Jimmy looked up at it and sighed.
"What a way to start out, huh?" he asked.
She looked at him, seeing nervousness under his usual imperturbable attitude. Jimmy Duran was a nice-looking man, medium height with black hair, expressive brown eyes and olive skin, not much older than she was, in his mid-thirties, but a senior detective. Her years of experience with the Time Force police had prepared her for this job, but officially she was a rookie here. Jimmy had been working with her for most of her three months on the job. He was training her, and had proved so far to be capable, friendly, and likable. Jen considered herself lucky to be teamed with him.
"Yes. Nothing like a nice murder to brighten up my day."
They had gotten the call only fifteen minutes before. A woman found dead, a man with her, passed out. Her first real case, her first chance to prove herself, prove that she wasn't just the girlfriend of rich and powerful Alan Collins' son, prove that she deserved the opportunity she had been given. Her career, her reputation, could be riding on this. Jen knew Jimmy was concerned for her sake. She tried not to show her own nervousness, and hoped it would be simple. They usually were. It sounded straightforward. A fight, probably fueled by alcohol or drugs, in a seedy no-tell motel. Him versus her. She lost.
"Well, let's go."
They headed inside, not speaking, both looking around at the run-down lobby with eyes trained to pick up anything out of place. They got suspicious stares from many of the people standing inside, the kind of people who always seemed to be able to spot a cop. After a quick elevator ride, they were in a dingy hallway already cluttered with uniformed police -- and one Silver Guardian.
"Steve? What are you doing here?" Jen asked.
Steve Miller was Wes and Eric's second in command. For over a year the Guardians had been doing a great deal of work with SHPD, as consultants and extra manpower, sometimes even handling cases on their own. It had been a great help to the city after a series of attacks by mutants from Jen's time had left it devastated and in financial trouble. Now it was proving beneficial to Bio-Lab and the Guardians too, enhancing their reputation, expanding their resources, making them more valuable to their private, paying customers.
However... they rarely got involved in major crimes unless invited in for some particular reason. Miller's presence so soon after a crime had been discovered meant something unusual was going on.
"Jen. I'm glad you're here." Miller took her arm and led her toward an open room door. They paused just outside. "I'm not sure what's going on. He's in bad shape."
"Who?"
"No one told you?" He sighed when she shook her head. "Get ready for a shock."
With a puzzled and apprehensive look at his face, Jen stepped through the doorway. She stopped, staring, feeling dizzy for a moment, sickened by what she saw.
"Eric!"
Eric stopped at the sound of Wes's voice, his face softening slightly into a smile as his friend joined him in the hallway outside his office at Guardians headquarters, in one of the Bio-Lab buildings.
"How's it going?" Wes asked.
"Fine. You?"
"Great." They started to walk together.
"How's Jen?"
"She's great. Got that promotion. She's a detective now."
"I know. I've got some connections at the PD. And you only told me a few dozen times."
Wes laughed. "Can't help it. I'm proud of her."
"So she's still settling in okay?"
"Yeah. Seems to be."
Eric glanced at him, seeing concern under Wes's usual easy smile. "It can't be an easy adjustment for her. Especially now, trying to get a career going."
"I know. I guess she gets homesick sometimes. I just hope she's happy here."
"This is what she wanted. To be with you."
Wes sighed. "Yeah. In a way, she gave up her whole world for me. It's a big responsibility."
They stopped outside Wes's office as Eric laid a reassuring hand on Wes's shoulder. "If anyone can make her happy, you can. You sure love her enough."
"Yeah." Wes gave him a sharp glance. "How's it going with Gaby?"
"Fine. Great, even."
"She hasn't found out what a creep you are yet?" Wes asked with a grin.
"Not yet."
"I'm glad it's working out. She's good for you."
Eric snorted faintly, with a smile. "Yeah, she makes fun of me non-stop."
"That's what I mean. You need someone to lighten you up."
"You do a pretty good job."
Wes grinned. "Want to grab some lunch?"
"Sure."
"Hold on." Wes paused as his cell phone rang. He dug it out of his jacket and answered. "Collins."
Eric watched the brief conversation with curiosity and concern. When Wes hung up he was no longer smiling.
"That was Jen. Something's wrong. Won't tell me on the phone."
"Oh my God." Wes stood in the hotel room doorway, feeling his stomach drop away. A moment later it was back, making him glad he hadn't had lunch. He started into the room, only to be stopped by Jen and Miller, each firmly holding one of his arms.
"Don't touch anything, and don't get too close," Jen murmured. "You, Eric, and Steve are here only as a favor. Don't try to interfere."
"They'll be transporting him to the hospital soon. You can see him there," Miller added.
Wes nodded numbly. His father, Alan Collins, lay on the bed in that shabby room decorated with cheap furniture and nondescript paintings. He was jacketless, his shirt unbuttoned, semiconscious and mumbling incoherently. His face was scratched, streaks of blood across it. A team of paramedics was bent over him; and a few officers stood around him and the other occupant of the room, or what was left of her.
A woman lay on the threadbare carpeting in the middle of the room, arms and legs sprawled awkwardly, eyes open and fixed, face discolored, throat bruised, blood visible under her head. The first glance had told Wes she had been strangled, probably after a blow to the head. Her hair was platinum blonde with dark roots, her clothing overly tight and revealing, her blouse ripped open. Wes put her age at around forty, and revised the estimate upward a few years when he stepped a little closer. Her face still held considerable beauty under a layer of makeup, but showed signs of the abuse of alcohol and perhaps other drugs.
Eric stepped into the room with them and paused in the doorway. Wes saw him look at Collins, then stop abruptly, staring at the woman. Eric stepped closer to her, stood looking down, and then knelt beside her. Wes absently recognized one of the men near her as Frank Kelly, a competent police detective they had worked with several times before.
"What happened?" Wes asked.
Miller answered him. "The PD got an anonymous call to 911, reporting a loud argument and a woman screaming. This is what they found. Your father is..." He glanced at Wes uncomfortably. "He seems to be drunk. Unable to tell us what happened."
"Do you have any idea what he's doing here?" Jen asked.
"No. Why would he come to a place like this?" Wes glanced again at the woman. "I'll never believe he was... involved with someone like her..."
"Hey! Wait, you can't touch her!" At the exclamation from Kelly, they turned back to the body to see Eric reaching out, his hand brushing the victim's hair, catching a few strands between his fingers.
"Eric, what is it? Do you see anything?" Wes asked.
"No." Eric pulled his hand back slowly and stood up.
A stretcher arrived, and they all watched silently as Collins was lifted onto it. Wes moved closer.
"Dad? Can you hear me?"
Collins looked up, his eyes focusing blurrily on Wes's face. "Wesley?" His voice was slurred and weak.
"I'm right here, Dad." Wes took one of his hands, squeezing it gently.
"What going on?"
"I was hoping you could tell us... Don't worry, Dad. The doctors will take care of you." Collins looked around, his eyes stopping at the woman's body.
The little procession of stretcher, paramedics, and a couple of officers started to move. Wes walked with them for a few steps.
"Wes..." Collins said. "What... what happened?"
"We're trying to find out. I'll see you at the hospital, Dad. Everything's going to be fine." Wes released his hand and watched them go. He turned to Jen and Miller. "I have to go. Steve, stay here and see what you can find out."
"Of course."
"Jen... Dad couldn't have had anything to do with this..."
"I'm sure you're right. But it's my job to find out the truth, and I can't eliminate any possibility." She took his hand, her face anxious. Wes paused to look around the room again.
Jimmy had been doing a preliminary search. They saw him bend to retrieve a woman's handbag from a corner of the floor, where it looked like it had been thrown. His gloved hands opened it.
"I've got an ID here," he announced. "Lily White."
Miller snorted. "Lily White. Right."
Jimmy had found more. "A business card. 'Peak Escorts'. I guess she's exactly what she looks like."
"A little old for it," Kelly commented.
"Yeah."
"That's not her real name," Eric said, his voice expressionless. He was still standing in the same spot, looking down.
"No shit," Miller said.
"Her name's Pamela Myers. Or it was when I knew her."
"Myers?" Wes said faintly, after a pause. All of them stared at Eric. Wes looked at the woman again, noticing her rather square jaw, the strength of her features.
Eric's square, hard, strong face turned to them, his expression rigidly blank. "Yeah. She's -- she was -- my mother."