Work Text:
Timeline: Stakeout
Challenge: Gift (Challenge number 15)
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Jack is sitting on the edge of his bed, thumbing through the photo album that Z had given him today. He smiles sadly at the images. With the influx of aliens came new technology, one of which was responsible for the gift before him. One could now think of memories, and 'snapshot' them, just like a camera in the past. While at the time the life they lived wasn't too bad, looking back on it now, it made him rather depressed...how on earth had they survived, let alone thrived? How long could they really have survived on their own like that? It was amazing that neither had suffered worse than they had, all things considered.
Shaking his head slightly, he placed the album on his nightstand. Today was supposed to be a day of celebration...Syd had explained the 'rules' to him about birthdays. It was rather funny to be twenty-something and have his first birthday, but thankfully no one had made much fuss about it.
A swish of the doors indicated that someone had entered the room, and he looked up, making a mental note to turn the doors automatic opening off. Z stood in the doorway, a small yellow bottle in her hands. With a grin, he looked up at her, and patted the bed beside him.
"I saw Sinuku land a pretty decent hit on that shoulder...and you were still favoring it after the party. Still ache?" she asked softly, hand already moving towards the joint.
"It's okay, just sore," he replies, trying to downplay the injury. While their Ranger powers do help combat injuries, he didn't want to seem weak in front of the team. He was fighting hard to earn their respect as it was.
"Nonsense. Let me see it," Z scoffed, setting the bottle on the burgundy carpet. Eyeing the bottle, he glanced at her, smile tugging on his lips.
"Is that what I think it is?" he asks, already pulling off the sweatshirt he had changed into.
"Perchance. Lemme see the shoulder," she counters, tugging him into position. With gentle fingers, she presses gently, withdrawing when he hisses in pain. "You did more damage then you let on," she lectures, and he shrugs.
"No point in whining about it. Nothing anyone could do." He groans softly as oil-slick fingers gently knead the tight muscles, working loose the tension the last few weeks has placed there. Slowly, his head drops forward and slightly to the side, giving the gifted fingers more room to work. On the streets, she used to do this for him, especially after a bad raid, but it was always quick...the fear of being caught unaware made relaxation a leisure they couldn't afford.
Brushing aside negative thoughts, he didn't notice that she had slowly moved him to a supine form, flat on his stomach, with her fingers loosening knots along his spine. The scent of cloves had slowly filled the room, and he felt so very drowsy...it had been a long day. With a sigh, he surrendered completely, slowly drifting off to sleep.
"Happy birthday."