Chapter Text
She’s dreaming right before she’s awoken, so that might explain the terror she feels when her eyes first open. Or maybe it has something to do with the figure pulling themselves through her window.
Kimberly acts before her eyes have a chance to adjust, rolling off of the bed and into a fighting stance before she takes in the untied sneakers, grey sweatpants, and yellow tank top.
“Trini?” Kim asks in disbelief. “What – what time is it?”
It’s a real sign that something is wrong when Trini doesn’t respond - not with a flat remark about the alarm clock with neon pink numbers that Kim definitely see (despite the question) or the admittedly somewhat ridiculous sight of Kim in an oversized USA Gymnastics t-shirt and fuzzy socks.
“Trini?” she asks again, quieter now, as she steps forward towards the window where Trini stands, gaze focused on the ground.
“I don’t know why I came here,” she mutters. “I’m gonna–”
“Don’t!” She doesn’t use an excuse this time, simply reaches out to rest a (tentative) hand on Trini’s arm; once she makes contact, she realizes that Trini is shaking - only just. “You don’t always have to run. What happened?”
Nothing to do with Ranger business, Kim is willing to bet. Not when Trini had texted all of them before with seeming ease, even after Rita had invaded her home and left deep scratches that - now that Kim looks closer - have faded away a bit too well.
“I hurt someone,” Trini says shortly, then sucks in a shuddered breath. “I didn’t mean to,” she adds, with a level of emotion that Kim hasn’t heard since the bonfire (the one that she had wimped out on - the one where she had listened and not shared - the one she had realized that out of all the Rangers, she deserved to be there less than anyone).
“Of course you didn’t,” Kim says softly, taking a half step closer.
“I was – it was just…” Trini folds her arms. Then unfolds and refolds them. “We were kissing. It got… whatever – intense, I guess.”
Kim actually feels herself flush. Like some kind of… inexperienced freshman.
“Oh, that’s… good.”
That, at least, gets a reaction; Trini’s head snaps back up as she levels Kim with an almost reassuring sneer.
“Good? Kim, I basically put her through a wall! I think I bruised her!” She loses steam quickly though, and her gaze finds the ground once again. “And then I jumped out of her window.” She scoffs. “So stupid. Guess that’s done with.”
“Maybe if you just…”
“Explained?” Trini finishes dryly. “Yeah, that’d go over well. ‘Hey, sorry I dented your wall with your body, but I’m a superhero and lost control over my super-strength because kissing you felt nice. Wanna do it again?’”
“I mean, yeah?” Kim begins, but hurries onward when Trini stares at her in disbelief. “Not exactly that, but you probably just need to, like, practice?”
Trini scoffs again, and finally moves away from the window (and Kim), and into the middle of the room, where she slumps against the foot of the bed. Kim takes it as a good sign, especially when Trini’s small scowl turns into a smirk, upon taking in the whole of her bedroom.
“So pink was a thing for you before you were a Ranger, huh?”
“I never really got around to redecorating,” Kim shrugs, sitting on the floor next to Trini (so that their shoulders just brush). “The whole pink ballerina theme worked when I was eight, and… until recently, messing up the careful equilibrium of my life wasn’t really something I was super into. Anyways, I guess it fits again.”
“I bought a yellow flannel the other day,” Trini admits. “I wasn’t even thinking about it. And look!” She tugs at her (yellow) tank with a soft little groan. “So stupid.”
“It’s all a lot for us to get used to. Including… you know,” Kim prompts, and Trini rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, well, you and Jason can put each other through walls all you want. It’s not like you’ll hurt each other. Or give away the big secret. Lucky you.”
Kim blushes again. (It’s not great. And she’s not sure she understands why it’s happening so much now.) “Jason and I aren’t…”
“Yeah, right,” Trini laughs.
“We’re not,” she says again, more firmly this time. “I mean… we haven’t.”
“Yet.”
She falls silent, unsure how to respond. (Unsure about a lot.) Still, there’s no beating Trini in a game of silence, so it stretches on past the point of comfort for Kimberly. Even the sounds outside are muted (Angel Grove has little in the way of nightlife), limited to the occasional chirp of an insect.
“I’m just saying,” she says, giving in after not much longer than a minute. “We’re all here for you, alright? If you need help. With… whatever.”
“With avoiding kissing a pretty girl to the point of injury?” Trini drawls. “Yeah, all I need is one of Jason’s pep talks for that, then I’m all fixed.”
Kimberly frowns. “Practice, I meant. You could practice… kissing?”
Her confident tone fades pretty quickly with that one, and Trini shoots her a sideways glance at the half-hearted attempt. “Really? You’re sticking to that?”
“It could help! We all had to learn how to morph. And to not accidentally jump over buildings or tear doors off their handles. So why shouldn’t you be able to practice this too? It just takes a little concentration, right? You could practice with… someone! Keeping your cool. In those situations.”
“Yeah, well, problem is, I wouldn’t have a problem ‘keeping my cool’ with anyone who might be willing to volunteer.” At Kimberly’s puzzled look, Trini rolls her eyes again. “Dudes, Kim. I’m not into dudes.”
“Oh, so… not at all. Um. Okay.” The flush on the back of her neck is back, and Kimberly especially hates it now. “So… me, then. You could practice with me.”
Trini’s lips twist in an expression of vague annoyance or maybe displeasure; Kim doesn’t really like either option.
“What, so just because I like girls I have to be into you?”
“Of course not,” Kimberly shoots back, clearly peeved, despite herself. “Look, I’m just trying to help and if you don’t think I’m pretty or whatever–”
“Give me a break!” Trini snorts, shifting away from Kim, and onto her feet, but Kim just follows her up. “You’re fishing for compliments now? Really?”
“Well, fine, if it’s not that, what is it? What’s not good enough for you?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Trini drawls, voice coated in sarcasm. “Maybe the whole you being straight thing, Kimberly.”
“I thought you didn’t like labels.”
The look Trini gives her is once again hard for Kim to read (disbelief? hurt? anger?), but she knows she’s gone too far – pushed too much – and immediately drops her gaze.
“Sorry,” she murmurs. “The whole… me being a bitch thing is kind of a hard habit to break, I guess.”
Trini sighs, but she also sits back down, this time on top of Kim’s bed, right at the foot, where all her sheets (pink and green floral) had bunched up in her earlier dash out of bed.
“You’re not a bitch,” Trini says, shrugging her shoulders a bit. “Just sometimes… bitchy.”
That’s probably kinder than Kim deserves, and weirdly close to what Jason had said. It makes her feel almost warm. With gratitude and…friendship, maybe. Affection? Whatever it is, it must show on her face, because Trini gives her a strange look.
“That doesn’t mean this isn’t a stupid idea, though. The practicing thing.”
That shakes Kim out of it, at least partially, and she once again sits alongside Trini, a bit closer than before. “Do you have a better one?”
“No,” Trini admits, eyes narrowing slightly as she stares at Kim, unwavering. Kim just stares back, lifting her chin, just a little.
(She has the unnerving thought that if she looks away, Trini will call the whole thing off. And maybe never talk to her again. At least not about anything like this. Her subsequent thought it that… maybe that would be for the best. That there’s something here that maybe Kim doesn’t see, but should nevertheless avoid.)
“We’re friends,” Kim says, and even with everything that’s going on, it’s easy to find conviction for these words, at least. “So whatever it is you need, I’m here. Maybe some… yoga?” Kim makes a face at her own suggestion. “Hiking helps me. Swimming too. We just have to find the right thing that makes you feel…” Safe, Kim thinks, but it sounds too stupid to voice aloud.
“Let’s do it.” Trini is all grim determination, her face set. “Let’s try your dumb idea.”
Kimberly blinks. “What?”
“Practice,” Trini clarifies blandly, and Kim can’t read her expression at all now. “It’s the best bad idea we’ve got. Let’s try it.”
“Now?” She’s actually pretty proud of herself for not squeaking the word out – for making it sound calm and totally chill – even if it shouldn’t be an accomplishment at all. This dumb idea had been all hers, after all, hadn’t it?
“What would we wait for?”
Kim shrugs and tosses her hair (it doesn’t have quite the same effect it used to, but she’s constantly forgetting that). “Just want to make sure you’re comfortable. You weren’t, like, five seconds ago.”
“I guess I change my mind fast,” Trini drawls, but it sounds kind of like bravado, and Kim feels herself calm – just slightly – at the idea that maybe she isn’t the only one feeling weirdly anxious. “So let’s do this.”
Trini’s turned to look at her fully now, and there’s enough light from the moon for Kim to see the challenge offered up in her expression; that arch of her brow and the forced little smirk and from this close the lighter brown highlights in her eyes kind of flicker and… that’s all totally relevant. Definitely.
“Alright.” She leans towards Trini, one hand balancing on her own knee to steady herself as she twists (and puts on the most neutral expression she can muster). “Then kiss me.”
More silence. And staring. And Kimberly trying very hard to remain vaguely indifferent to the whole situation.
Just when she’s about to give up, Trini kisses her.
Lightly.
Just a soft press of her lips to Kim’s with hardly any pressure at all.
Kim considers: shifting closer, pulling away, deepening the kiss, starting to laugh, putting her hand on Trini’s cheek, opening her eyes (which had closed, reflexively), putting her hand on Trini’s hip, and pretending to fall off the bed, all in quick succession before she realizes she’s blushing and maybe a little lightheaded and also that Trini smells really nice, like she’d just taken a shower before she climbed through Kim’s window, and – oh – that makes the blush deepen a lot more and…
Then Trini sucks in a small breath of air and it makes her mouth open just a little and Kim’s hand curls, taking in a fistful of sheets, and…
Trini pulls away. Kim nearly pitches forward.
“Nope. That didn’t work.” Trini’s voice is gruff and… coming from far away?
It takes an extended moment (of opening her eyes and blinking repeatedly) for Kim to realize that Trini is already back at the window, practically halfway through to the outdoors.
“Wait. Trini. What?”
(Smooth. Super smooth.)
“Didn’t work,” Trini says again, turning her head only the slightest bit towards her before facing away once again; Kim stares at her back as though she’ll be able to find some kind of meaning in the moving lines of her shoulder. (She comes up entirely empty.) “Thanks for trying, though. See you tomorrow.”
Trini steps out on the (third floor) roof ledge and drops out of view; Kim barely hears the thud of Trini’s feet hitting the ground, and definitely doesn’t hear anything else after. Except maybe her own breathing, which sounds weirdly heavy to her own ears. She can also hear her heartbeat. Which sounds fast. Way too fast.
She takes in a deep breath. And then another. And then another, except that this time she licks her lips and – damn it – was that lip gloss? There had been no lip gloss involved in her pre-bedtime routine, especially not raspberry lip gloss. So that was definitely all Trini, and that thought makes her stomach pitch and… back to deep breaths.
It’s only then – after seven whole steadying breaths – that she notices she’s still clutching her sheets. Or, part of her sheets, at least. And as she stares down at the ripped portion of her bedding (torn away, it seemed, by the force of her nails digging through them), she realizes that Trini had been right.
That hadn’t worked at all.