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Power Ranger Day 2015
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2015-08-23
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Comfort Food

Summary:

Four times the S.P.D. team cooked for each other.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Bridge trudged alone into the S.P.D. cadet common room.  They’d had a rough battle with Emperor Grumm’s lieutenants, and that was after an extended run in with a battalion of Krybots.  Bridge was exhausted but too wound up to sleep. Dr. Manx released him from medical, and unintentionally his feet had brought him here.  Bridge looked around in confusion, pretty sure he meant to go to his room, then shrugged and wandered over to the small kitchen area.  Bridge automatically loaded the toaster on the counter with bread and plopped himself on a stool by the counter to wait for it to cook.

Bridge looked around the empty common room; it was late enough now that everyone was in bed.  Life at SPD Academy was highly regimented.  Cadet schedules were assigned and expected to be followed. For all from the youngest recruits to newly graduated officers life was orderly, organized and busy.  Although S.P.D.’s B-Squad were also expected to train and keep up with academic courses, as active Rangers they had a tremendous amount of flexibility in their schedules in order to deal with unexpected emergencies.  This resulted in periods of intense activity and, ironically, an inordinate amount of free time.

Sky had no trouble filling his free time with academics and training; if his nose wasn’t stuck in a book he was training against a simulator or with the rest of the team.  Both Jack and Z took advantage of all of the opportunities that being at the academy had to offer.  Though Z usually focused more on academics and Jack leaned toward training, they found time to spend together enjoying activities they couldn’t afford before joining S.P.D. while still finding time to volunteer in the community.  Syd trained to keep her skills sharp, but in her free time could be found socializing with her old friends or organizing social activities for all of the cadets to enjoy. And that left Bridge. Unlike Sky he couldn’t fill all his time with school or training.  Unlike Syd he wasn’t comfortable in large social groups, though he was easily drawn into small gatherings.

Bridge didn’t mind that his teammates were often out and about doing their own things. He certainly didn’t expect that they would all hang out together all the time; but recently, after the last few missions as soon as debriefing with Commander Kruger was over or they got clearance from Dr. Manx, everyone headed in different directions.  That was okay, but there was something about the five of them being together - it was a feeling Bridge couldn’t quite put into words, but it was strong and it made him feel settled.  For whatever reason he needed it more than they did, so in small ways Bridge tried to encourage his teammates to bond.

Training as a group was the obvious place to start.  But that was repetitive and mostly amounted to Sky yelling at people; not a great way to bond.  Group outings were a little better than training, but that was only after a destination was decided on which sometimes took half the night and left everyone frustrated.  Staying in wasn’t much better; game nights often fell apart because Sky and Jack were too competitive. 

It wasn’t like any of them were up for group bonding tonight; it was most likely that Dr. Manx had sent the others off to bed as well.  Bridge mulled over his options as he waited for his toast to brown and let out a heavy sigh.  “Well, it’s not like I need to decide anything tonight,” he said to the empty room. “None of us is in any kind of shape to do anything besides fall into bed.”

The bread in the old fashioned toaster popped up with a hearty “BING” and Bridge smiled.  The toasted morsels smelled heavenly and he decided that the best thing he could do was enjoy his small meal and go to sleep.  Bridge slathered generous portions of butter onto the steaming bread and watched it melt.

He was surprised when a female voice commented, “That smells wonderful!”

Bridge blinked and looked over at the counter.  Syd was perched on the stool he had vacated propping her chin up with her steepled hands while Z collapsed on the stool beside her with her head on her folded arms draped across the counter. He didn't hear them come in.

“Buttery!” was Bridge’s automatic reply.  He grinned and placed the plate between the girls.  Syd grabbed a slice of the toast with a grateful smile.  Bridge had to poke Z’s elbow with the plate a few times before she responded, but eventually she took a slice of it as well.

Bridge put four more slices of bread in the toaster, suddenly feeling less weary.  Syd watched him as she methodically chomped on her second slice.  “How do you get it to always turn out so perfectly?”

“Lots and lots of practice.”  He smiled fondly.  “My mom always said my nose would tell me when it was ready.”

The automatic doors to the common room whooshed open admitting Jack and Sky.  Both of them looked worse for wear; Sky was limping heavily and Jack was holding himself stiffly to baby bruised ribs.  They weren’t technically holding each other up, but they were certainly close enough to make a grab if the other looked like he was going to fall. 

“BING”

Bridge grinned as he buttered the next set of slices; he knew where these were going!  The boys settled themselves on the couches.  Jack actually allowed Z’s replicants ease him down onto the cushions as she watched blearily from the stool.  Bridge walked over with the plate of toast as Syd scooped up the first plate and then scooped up Z as well.  Syd deposited Z next to Jack and then curled herself up next to Sky.  Bridge puttered in the kitchen making another batch of toast as the rest of the team ate in companionable silence.

“BING”

Upon entering the common area, Bridge deposited more toast on the empty plates before settling himself on the overstuffed swivel armchair facing the sofa loaded with his teammates. He dug into his toast enthusiastically and closed his eyes with pleasure as the salty butter hit his taste buds.

“Mmmmmm….”

“Buttery!”

Bridge’s eyes flew open as every member of the team beat him to the punch.  They were all smiling at him.  He smiled back.

“Thanks for feeding us, Bridge,” Z said.  She didn’t look quite as wrung out as she had earlier.

“That really hit the spot!” Jack agreed contentedly.

“Toast always makes me feel better.  My mom used to make it for me.  I love the smell, the crunchy edges, the way the butter gets into all of the cracks and gets absorbed by the warm bread.  There’s just something about it…” Bridge knew he was babbling and was waiting for someone to cut him off. He wasn’t surprised when Sky spoke up; what was surprising was that Sky finished his thought.

“That makes you feel like home.”  Sky had his leg propped up on the low table and leaned back into the couch’s cushions.  His head was tipped back toward the ceiling and his eyes were closed.

Before Bridge could really investigate Sky’s contribution to the conversation, Syd pinned him with a look.  “You make toast an awful lot, Bridge.”  She squinted her eyes and tipped her head to the side leaving the implication there.  Bridge panicked slightly, but then looked past Syd’s words to her body language.  She was relaxed, not accusing; her expression was understanding, not pitying.  Then suddenly, Syd looked determined.

“It’s my turn tomorrow night,” she declared.  “Barring any unforeseen attacks, of course.”

Bridge looked at Syd trying to puzzle out the turn the conversation had taken, but was interrupted by the arrival of Commander Kruger.  “Cadets!”  Sky instantly snapped out of a semi-doze and simultaneously tried to stand on his injured leg.  That was a mistake.  Bridge put a hand up to stop his forward motion before the Blue Ranger fell completely over.  Kruger moved further into the room and softened his tone.  “Obviously all of you should be in bed.”

Syd wedged herself under Sky’s arm as Z helped Jack to his feet.  A chorus of “Yes, sir” bounced around the open room. Kruger stepped back to trigger the automatic door as the others made their way out.  Bridge gathered the plates and swiftly cleaned the kitchen area, already looking forward to whatever Syd had in mind for the following night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bridge was on edge with anticipation all of the next day.  With both Jack and Sky taking it easy in order to give their injuries time to heal, training was focused in strategy simulators instead of physical combat training.  Bridge was caught up on all his academic classes, but he was not in the right headspace to try to get ahead.  He spent most of the afternoon in the robotics lab taking things apart and sending out a hopeful message to the universe to keep Emperor Grumm off their backs for the rest of the day. 

What on earth does Syd have planned?

Finally, around six o’clock, a text message from Syd asked them all to gather in the common room. Bridge unabashedly dropped what he was doing and took off at a run.  He fairly flew down the SPD corridors apologizing hastily at anyone he careened into; fortunately for him, most residents knew enough to get out of his way.  Bridge actually overran the doors to the common room, pirouetted and ran back. 

When he burst through the doors the first thing he noticed was the smell.  There were so many delicious smells!  Pungent spices floated in the air; the sensory input was so surprising and so overwhelming it actually stopped Bridge in his tracks.  This caused a bit of an issue as Z collided with him.

“Bridge!” she mock complained as she swatted him on the shoulder.  “Don’t you ever move at a regular speed?”

Bridge stepped aside so Z could pass, flashing a grin and apologizing.  “Sorry! The smell got to me.”

Syd looked up in concern from where she was organizing in the kitchen, her blonde curls bouncing in a ponytail.  “Is that good or bad?” she asked.

“Good,” Bridge confirmed as he gave her two thumbs-up. “So good!”  Syd smiled brightly and waved for them to sit down.

On the low table before the couches platters were arranged.  One was a meat platter with bite-sized chicken, beef and pork; one was a vegetarian platter; and the third held an assortment of what looked like spring rolls.  Jack gave a low whistle as he entered the room, “What have you got yourself up to, Syd?”

“You’ll see,” she teased.  “Come give me a hand?”

Jack walked over to the counter as Sky arrived.  “Great!” Syd chirped, “we’re all here! Sit down Sky!”

As Sky settled on the couch near Bridge, Syd and Jack came over with two trays.  Jack’s held fizzy drinks and Syd’s held a variety of bowls.  Jack dragged an ottoman over to sit on while Syd gracefully folded herself onto the floor facing Sky and Bridge. 

“What is all this, Syd?” Z asked.

“Well, Bridge made us his favorite food last night, so I thought I’d make mine and feed us all tonight.”  Bridge beamed.  Sky and Jack looked impressed.  “Technically, I didn’t make this food…this I ordered in,” Syd waved at the professionally arranged platters on the table.  “My mother didn’t cook much when I was little, we always had someone to do that for us.  But…Mother always enjoyed putting her touch on any meal she served for company.  She’s always been a whiz at concocting sauces and that’s what she taught me.”

Syd displayed the bowls on the tray she brought to the table.  As she spoke she pointed at the display from her right to left.  “You can see the bowls vary in color from light to dark.  The lighter the bowl, the milder the sauce.  The darker the bowl, the spicier we go.  And this one…” Syd pulled out a bright red bowl that she had tucked away, “is as hot as it gets.”

“Nice!” Jack exclaimed as he clapped his hands together.

Syd passed out chopsticks for everyone to use.  “Just help yourself – family style.  But no double dipping!”  She wagged an admonishing finger at Jack and Sky in advance.

As enticing as the food was, Bridge didn’t dive in right away.  Instead he watched the rest of the team.  Syd patiently walked Z through the ingredients in each bowl and the best flavor pairings.  Jack and Sky had a quick chopstick duel before they started loading their plates.  Everyone was relaxed and it was such a treat to be together without arguing about it first. Bridge snapped out of his reverie when Syd pushed the lightest colored bowl toward his plate. 

“Try this one Bridge, with one of the vegetables.” She winked, “It’s buttery.”

Bridge laughed.  He quickly loaded up his plate determined to give every sauce at least one try. He started with the milder options; Z did as well.  Sky and Jack were more adventurous.  Syd shared a lot of funny stories about how people reacted to some of the spicier sauces her mother made over the years; her reenactments had them rolling with laughter.  At the end of the meal they all dipped in the red bowl at the same time.  Bridge was glad that Syd had ice cream standing by in the freezer. 

“Oh my god, Syd,” said Z around the spoon she inverted and stuck to her tongue, “your mom does not serve that to people!”

“Actually, it’s just for first-timers.”  It was hard to tell if Syd was red in the face from the spicy sauce or because she was blushing.

“Please tell your mom that we passed the test or whatever so we don’t have to do that again!” Jack exclaimed from his spot on the floor where he was fanning himself.

Syd giggled.  Sky threw a pillow at her.

Bridge leaned forward from the couch.  “Thanks for feeding us Syd.  This was great.  It was a great night.”

Syd’s smile lit up her face.  “You’re welcome! You inspired me, Bridge. I was so happy to do this for all of you.”

As Bridge and Sky got up to help Syd start cleaning up, Bridge didn’t miss the significant look that passed between Jack and Z.  He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he had a feeling that another meal was in their future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day brought another attack from Grumm.  He was stepping up his game as far as henchmen went; the latest one had a teleportation ability which made him very tricky to catch.  Between trying to pinpoint its location and figuring out how to stop it B-Squad was very busy.  Two days later the battle was fought and won; ingenuity and teamwork saved the day.  By late evening the Rangers headed back to S.P.D. weary and worn out.

Bridge was seated on the edge of an exam table, waiting for Dr. Manx to dismiss him when Jack walked over.  He leaned against the table and assessed Bridge’s condition.  “You okay?”

Bridge nodded.  “Mostly tired.”

“Hungry?” Jack raised his eyebrows.

Bridge smiled.  “Yeah, I could eat.”

Jack smacked him lightly on the leg as he pushed away from the table.  “We’re gonna eat in our spot.  Me and Z are taking care of dinner. Just come on down once you’re cleared.”

“Okay, see you there.” Bridge smiled. Maybe Jack thought he was just happy about having plans for dinner, but what really put the grin on Bridge’s face was knowing that the team was going to meet in “our spot”.  Adding another layer to Bridge’s glee was that Sky and Syd waited for him so they could all walk down to the common room together.

“Hey guys!” Z greeted as the trio walked through the door.  Already something smelled very good. 

Sky took a deep breath and nodded with appreciation.  “What’re you guys cooking?”  The three original members of B-Squad walked over to the counter that separated the common area from the kitchenette.

Z smiled as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and exchanged a glance with Jack.  “It’s Stone Soup,” she replied.

Bridge’s brows drew together in confusion.  “I didn’t think rocks could smell that good.”

Jack huffed out a laugh.  “We’re not really feeding you stones, Bridge.  Haven’t you ever heard the story?”

“I know that one,” Sky offered. “It’s a fairy tale.”

“Not a fairy tale,” Z corrected with a smile. “It’s a fable.”  Bridge perched on a stool to watch Z work.  She had a wide variety of ingredients chopped or ready to be chopped on the cutting board; potato seemed to be the main vegetable, with a little bit of everything else ready to be tossed into the pot. 

Z spoke quietly while she worked. “The story goes that some hungry soldiers wandered into a poor village.  The villagers were frightened that they would be robbed by the soldiers and stayed locked inside, unwilling to share what little they had. The soldiers made a big show of building a fire and heating water in a pot.  Then they tossed in three flat stones and started to talk about how delicious the soup they were making was going to be.  The villagers, who were also hungry, overheard the soldiers.  Little by little the villagers offered to share an onion or a carrot or whatever and in the end everyone contributed and shared in the soup.”

“We had to make ‘stone soup’ more than once out on the street,” Jack contributed.  “Sometimes it really amounted to nothing more than boiled water, but sometimes, when everyone gave just a little bit, it turned into something surprisingly good.”

Bridge looked again at the vegetables Z was preparing as she slid them expertly into the waiting pot.  The amount and variety of what was available to him was something Bridge always took for granted; he wondered what it looked like to Z and Jack.  Understanding that the tone was getting heavier than they wanted, Z redirected the conversation.  “So, to make this version of ‘Stone Soup’, it’s more of a stew really because it’s so thick… I asked the kitchen staff for leftovers from the last day or two.  With so many cadets to feed there’s always something extra around and now none of this will go to waste. I even used some of the spices you left behind, Syd.”

“But here’s the extra treat for B-Squad,” Jack added as he opened up the oven and slid out a tray.  “Biscuits!”

Bridge was a sucker for baked bread. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.  When he opened his eyes and looked at the team he could see that Sky and Syd were appreciative of another layer to the meal, but Jack and Z were positively ecstatic. Jack reverently placed the tray on top of the stove.  Z crowded over his shoulder to take in the scent.  The two of them breathed together.  “Making Stone Soup in a back alley is one thing…but fresh bread…” Jack had a dreamy look on his face.

“So good…” Z whispered.

Bridge shared a glance with Sky and Syd, not sure what to do next.  It was rare that Jack and Z shared so openly about their past life experiences.  Bridge didn’t want to spoil the mood, but he felt out of his depth.  Syd stepped up. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“Nope,” Z waved her off.  “Just settle yourselves over there while everything heats through.”

The trio arranged themselves on the couches, Syd settled between the two boys.  Jack shuttled back and forth with drinks and plates.  Not long after, Z’s replicants came over with a bowl of soup for everyone; Z herself brought the biscuits.  For the first time, Z looked hesitant.  Her eyes skirted over to Jack and then back down to her bowl.  Sky was the first to dive in; his low, humming sound of approval made Z beam. The rest of the team enthusiastically dug in right behind him.

Once the first few bites had been savored conversation began again.  It wasn’t hilarious like the previous meal they’d shared together, but in those few hours together Bridge developed a better perspective on Jack and Z.  As they had earlier in the kitchen, they spoke about about their lives before SPD.  They even shared a little about how overwhelming the change from the streets to SPD was; although they were grateful for all they now had and understood how critical what they were doing was, they felt guilty about everyone they left behind.  When dinner was over Bridge felt like he’d been given something important, much bigger than the meal his teammates had prepared and served. He was certain Sky and Syd felt the same way.

Z was so precise about the amount of food she’d prepared that when the meal was done everyone was full and there were no leftovers.  When the girls began to set the kitchen back in order the boys were left gathering bowls and plates.

Sky scooted forward to the edge of the couch while gathering the closest dishes, but then he paused.  He looked over toward the Red Ranger.  “Thanks for this, Jack.”

Jack tried to wave him off. “Z really did all of the cooking…I just handed her things.”

Bridge was surprised when Sky pushed it.  “No, all of it.”  Sky waved his hand to indicate where the group was sitting.  “There’s so much I didn’t understand…thanks for all of it.” 

Jack was set back a bit by Sky’s sincerity.  Bridge thought he could see Jack preparing for another flip response, and then he stopped.  With his elbows resting on his legs and his hands hanging between them, Jack looked at Sky with the same gravity the Blue Ranger was looking at him with.  “You’re welcome.”

Something in Bridge’s chest eased as an accord was reached between the other two.  He nodded his approval and together the three of them rose to go and help the girls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days passed and things went back to their normal routine, as far as “normal” went.  Monsters attacked, monsters were defeated, and hours were filled with training or classes, waiting for the next attack.  Bridge tried not to be disappointed that Sky hadn’t jumped on the “I’ll bond with my team by feeding them” bus that seemed to be gaining momentum.  It wasn’t like it was anything they all talked about – there were no rules…it wasn’t Sky’s “turn”.  But still…disappointing.

A beep got Bridge’s attention and drew him up from sleep.  It wasn’t an emergency alert; they weren’t under attack.  Bridge rubbed his eyes in the dark room and rolled from his back to his side looking for his communicator on the side table.  The text message was from Sky; it was a summons to the common room.  That was weird.  Bridge checked the time.  It was 5:45 am and Sky was calling for a team meeting?

Bridge groaned and flopped back onto his pillow.  Three beeps in rapid succession from his communicator prevented him from grasping at the sleep he was denied.  Even though there was no way Sky could’ve changed the programming on his communicator, it seemed to Bridge that each new beep was louder and more insistent. 

Bridge?

Don’t go back to sleep.

Get down here.

Bridge had to laugh.  Sky knew him too well.  A soft knock at the door prevented Bridge from ignoring Sky’s messages, rolling over and going back to sleep. “Hey Bridge, are you up?” Jack called from the other side of the door.

“Not because I want to be,” Bridge called back.  With a groan he threw off the blankets.  If Sky had Jack on board, he might as well get up – sometimes you just can’t fight the tide.  Bridge ran his hands through his hair, jammed his feet into his slippers and shuffled toward the door.  When it opened he saw that Jack was mid-yawn which made him feel a little better.  Wordlessly they fell into step together and headed down to the common room.  They met the girls in the hallway. They didn’t look any more alert than Bridge felt; Syd was actually tugging Z along by the sleeve of her pajamas.  Z was not a morning person.

The first thought that crossed Bridge’s mind as he entered the common room and saw Sky looking just as put together as he ever did was No one has a right to be that awake at this time of the morning but immediately replacing that thought was What is that smell? Bridge grinned as he stepped forward. 

Z grumbled, “Why are we up so early?”

Sky chuckled in response. “It had to be early if we wanted the place to ourselves.”He greeted the rest of the group with a smile.  “Sorry I made you wait so long since you guys made Stone Soup, but this is a Saturday thing.”

“A Saturday thing?” Syd echoed as she dragged Z forward.

“Are those pancakes?” Jack asked with delight in his voice.

“Yeah,” Sky replied.  “Why don’t you guys help yourselves? I’ve got to keep an eye on these.”  He pointed toward the skillet where three more pancakes were taking shape.

Syd, Z and Bridge climbed onto the three stools by the counter facing into the kitchen.  Jack made himself comfortable leaning on the end of the island.  A neat stack of warm pancakes was in the center of the makeshift table.  To one side was a plate of bacon; on the other side was a fruit platter neatly organized into four quarters.  The fruit plate held strawberries, blueberries, kiwi and banana slices.  Behind the pancake platter was whipped cream in a can, maple syrup and a butter dish.

“I love pancakes!” Syd exclaimed as she made a plate for herself.  “I haven’t had them in ages!”

Jack applied a liberal amount of syrup to a pancake, laid two slices of bacon down the center and then rolled it up like a hot dog in a bun.  The muffled noises he made as he wolfed down the concoction were bordering on obscene.

Sky smiled as he flipped a pancake fresh off the griddle onto a plate and placed it in front of Z.  She smiled warmly in return looking much more awake.  Sky nudged the butter dish toward Bridge.  “I figured you’d want this.  I’ve had it out so it could warm up.”

“Thanks, Sky.”  Bridge liberally spread the butter onto the top pancake in his stack.  As he reached for the syrup he asked, “What did you mean when you said this was a Saturday thing?”

Sky’s attention was on the stove. Bridge could see his shoulders tense, and he hesitated before he started talking. Then he took a deep breath still focused on the pan.   “My dad would make me pancakes when I was little.  Just the two of us.  It was a Saturday thing.  Mom got to sleep in a little while Dad made me breakfast.” Sky deftly flipped the pancakes – the golden side faced up while the batter size sizzled against the heat.

“You guys made some special foods for dinner, but I’ve never been much of a cook.  I’m good at breakfast.”  The edges of the pancakes on the stove were quickly darkening from golden to brown. “I figured I’d make you pancakes…but I waited because it’s a Saturday thing…”  Sky scraped the fluffy circles out of the pan and turned to face his audience, clearly uncomfortable, worried that the tone he’d set was too sentimental.

But Jack saved the moment, licking his fingers and proclaiming, “Worth the WAIT!”

Sky chuckled and ducked his head almost shyly.  Then he turned back to the stove, added butter to the hot pan and started three more pancakes frying.  Bridge dug into his pancake stack with gusto.  He didn’t love pancakes as much as toast, but it was a close thing!

Like the other times they’d eaten together, the conversation flowed naturally around the group.  It was easy and warm.  There was something about being seated close to the heat of the stove gathered together in the small space that made it feel special.  Eventually Sky stopped cooking and serving and made a plate for himself. 

“This is a nice way to start the day.” Z stated contentedly.  “Thanks, Sky.”

“It’s actually a nefarious plan to weigh you all down and make you sluggish when we’re training later,” Sky teased.  Syd threw a dish towel at him which he easily side-stepped.  Sky chuckled and stated, “You’re welcome.”

Bridge pondered what he unintentionally started as general chatter accompanied kitchen clean up. Something new had started here, something different than what they had.  They’d often taken meals together in the cafeteria – pick up a tray, accept the offering for the day, plop down on a bench with the team.  Conversation, if there was any, revolved around the latest battle, upcoming training, school, work. But this was not that. As far as Bridge was concerned it was a change for the better.

Bridge made the decision to give his mother a call.  He wanted ideas for slow cooking meals that could sit through the day and be ready to eat whenever the team was finished in the field; something that would go well with fresh made biscuits.  Other cadets began to filter into the room as the morning started in earnest and B-Squad head back to their quarters to change.  Bridge stepped out into the hallway with his team by his side. Bridge might have started this change unintentionally, but he wasn’t going to let it go without a fight. 

Notes:

The original prompt was: Each member of the team cooks their favorite childhood dinner for everyone.