It was a lot easier to avoid someone who was actively avoiding you in return. Co-Op, the mess hall, even the fighter bays: he entered, she left. It was as simple as that. She didn't make any effort to hide what she was doing, and he wondered what she had told her teammates that they didn't question her behavior.

It was easier, there was no doubt about that. But it wasn't comfortable. It wasn't pleasant. And he had to face the fact that it might never be again.

He had heard it said that an empathic bond was the most powerful thing two people could share. It went beyond the physical, beyond even the rational, to the emotional core of a person's being. Between true empaths it was a delicate, difficult thing to manipulate. Between others it was rare, spontaneous, and completely uncontrollable.

He had empathic blood. Almost everyone on Elisia had. More unusual were the empathic tendencies that manifested sporadically, and, in his case, unpredictably. His training was incomplete and the ability itself had been stifled by the death of his best friend and teacher. Only Jenna's unwavering support had kept the trauma from overwhelming his entire capacity to feel or care.

Or so he had thought until he caught the gaze of Cassandra Chan on the deck above the fighter bay. For one fleeting moment, he hadn't known who he was: ensconced pilot or new arrival, embattled warrior or revitalized refugee. They had both looked around and seen the same thing... but what had they seen? Their surroundings? Or each other?

He still felt her. He had thought--hoped--that not being in her presence would keep the bond between them from growing. A flicker of something on the edge of his awareness, even the disconcerting surge of alien emotion every now and then... he could handle that. He could ignore it, as long as he didn't also have to ignore her.

Hard as it was to admit, she did something to his senses that echoed her devastating effect on his heart. She was beautiful in a way that wasn't at all self-conscious, and the more he saw her face the more it haunted him. He had hoped that the unspoken and now mutual effort to avoid each other would dull the effect.

He had been wrong. She was on his mind and in his thoughts. He knew she was coming before she even entered the room now, and he suspected she could feel his approach the same way. There was no way to share space without knowing it, no matter how many people were between them.

For the moment, it made staying out of each other's way a little easier. In the long run, though, he was desperately afraid that it would make physical separation a futile effort.

The irony of the situation did not escape him. When she seemed to be there every time he turned around, he devoted most of his energy to staying out of her way. The moment she started to return the favor, he found excuse after excuse to make their paths cross.

He had thought he didn't want to see her. It turned out that he didn't want to be seen with her, which was a very different thing. It also seemed an increasingly trivial worry when faced with the possibility that she might never speak to him again.

She had chased him almost since her arrival. All it took was her stopping, and suddenly their positions were reversed. Fortunately, he prided himself on being rather better at discreet surveillance and interception than she was.

She had already passed his location when she began to slow, glancing around as though she expected an ambush in this, one of the quieter avenues of the comm transit station. All the Rangers had access to teleportals, of course, but she wasn't one to hide behind the convenience of technology. She thought it was elitist... yet another thing he had discovered about her without having to ask.

"Behind you," he said quietly, and he saw her stiffen.

Turning slowly, her glare was as angry as her posture. "What do you want?" she demanded. Angry, yes, but surprised? No. She wasn't surprised in the least, and he wondered if she knew why.

"To see you," he admitted. There was nothing for it but to tell her the truth. Not only would she know if he lied, but her recent absence from his life had made him more reckless with his words.

"I thought you weren't going to do this with me." She bit off each word, looking almost as torn as he felt. "What are you doing stalking me through the subway?"

He sighed, knowing there was no excuse that made it right. "It isn't 'this' I dream of," he told her. Holding her gaze, he willed some sign of understanding to flicker in her eyes. "It's you."

"Stop it."

He knew, but he had to ask anyway. "What?"

"This!" She gestured impatiently. "Whatever you're doing to me! I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but it isn't funny."

He sighed to himself, but she might as well blame him. He blamed her, after all: for being here, now, for making him feel what he had given up on, for coming into his life at all. He had reached a tenuous equilibrium between his own being and what was expected of him, only to have her arrival cast doubt on everything he thought he knew.

"If it makes you feel any better," he said quietly, "I have done nothing to you that you haven't done to me in return."

She folded her arms across her chest, glaring at him. "So I made a pass at you. I'm sorry, all right? I'm not exactly proud of it myself."

"No," he agreed. That might be a given, but it didn't help his heart to hear it. "You wouldn't be."

"I totally embarrassed myself," she declared. "You said no. Whatever happened to rejecting someone and moving on?"

"You didn't have to stop and speak with me," he pointed out.

"I'm not talking about the unnecessary stalking!" she exclaimed. "I'm talking about this thing--" She pointed at him, then at her temple. "Between us. I want it to stop."

The corner of his mouth quirked, and he couldn't keep his amusement from showing. "Believe me when I say you are not alone in that."

"So stop it already!" she burst out. "It's driving me crazy!"

"It's nothing I have done." He watched her expression carefully, wondering how much she would let him explain. Wondering how much he wanted to explain. Giving voice to the feelings could only make them more real.

"The fuck it isn't!" She was beyond frustrated now, and he tried not to find her wrath appealing. She was passionate in everything she said and did--his opposite in so many ways. "I never felt anything like it before you, and you're the only one it works on!"

"I do not find that hard to believe," he said softly. "Nonetheless, it is not my doing. I would put an end to it if I could, but I cannot."

She stared at him for a long moment, emotions flashing in her eyes too quickly to read. Then, in an eerie echo of their last encounter, she whirled and walked away from him without another word.

Had he thought about it he never would have gone after her, let alone grabbed her arm to halt her retreat. But he hadn't and he did, grip tightening when she tried to wrench away from him. "You cannot walk away from this," he told her.

"Watch me," she spat, twisting her arm at such an angle that he was forced to let her go. She slid away easily before he could catch her again, but not before awareness of what she meant to do dawned.

"Do not tell Jenna."

She stopped in her tracks, head cocked to one side. She didn't look back at him. "Who says I'm going to tell Jenna anything?"

Not for nothing had he tracked down every bit of information Eltare had on her. "I will be forced to reciprocate," he said quietly, hating the stillness of her shoulders when she realized what he meant. "I suspect there is information about your activities that TJ Carter does not have."

"He's not going to hold a spell against me!" she exclaimed. She turned to face him once more, arms folded in determination. "I heard you talking about magic with Jenna! That's all this is!"

He found himself too frustrated to be amused. "This has nothing to do with magic! A fact which Jenna would confirm, if you were to actually ask her!"

"So why don't you want me to?" she challenged.

"Because she will immediately recognize it for what it is," he retorted. "This will end our relationship more surely than any spell, and whatever you may think, that is not something I have ever desired."

She rolled her eyes, making it clear what she thought of that assertion.

"I do not wish to threaten you," he said softly, not taking his eyes off of her. "But what Jenna knows, TJ will also know. Do not underestimate my capacity for persuasion."

"How dare you," she hissed.

Her anger slammed into him, almost taking his breath away. His stomach lurched sickeningly as he realized just what his ill-chosen words had done. Whatever chance of compromise had existed between them before, it had to be gone now.

"How dare you threaten me!" She had taken a step toward him, and for one heart-wrenching moment he thought she might actually slap him. "What exactly are you going to tell TJ? That I think you're hot? That's not a crime! Not on my planet, anyway, and frankly I couldn't care less about yours right now!

"Obviously looks aren't any judge of character," she added scathingly. "But if you want to go around telling people I'm attracted to tall, dark, and mysterious types, go right ahead. The fact that you care will probably do wonders for your reputation!"

It was all he could do to keep from flinching in the face of such an assault. Her emotions raged around him, buffeting his mind and lending an alarmingly hungry echo to her words. Furious, frustrated... and very, very, volatile. He was clawing his way through a torrent of feelings he hadn't dealt with for years, and he was terrified that no matter what he did it was about to blow up in his face.

"How dare you try to manipulate me?" she demanded, standing toe to toe with him now. Her tone was full of righteous indignation, but her gaze was as desperate as his. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

He could feel her breath on his skin and he crushed his mouth to hers without conscious thought. Her lips parted beneath his, feverishly eager as she pressed into his arms and the bond exploded between them. He lost himself, he lost her, in a sea of dizzying sensation.

She wrenched herself away, her heart pounding in his ears and his anguish on her face. Overlapping perception and a mind-numbing desire to be closer made the situation almost unbearable. He grasped her shoulders blindly, holding them apart as he fought to regain his identity.

She cried out--or he did--and one of them shook the other roughly. "Concentrate," he ordered harshly, and her grip on his arms was a welcome pain that helped distinguish one from the other.

"I can't!" she cried, but the words were having an effect. He knew who was speaking now, could see the tears in her eyes as she pushed him away, felt his own loneliness flooding the empty places of his heart.

"That--that was..." She looked lost and just as lonely as her wide eyes begged him to tell her what had happened. "S--Saryn?"

He swallowed hard, wishing she hadn't picked now to start using his name. "That was what we cannot have."

This time, he would keep his vow. He would not see her. He would not speak to her unless duty demanded it. He wouldn't even acknowledge her existence, except as one of many Rangers that made their patrol rotation work. He certainly wouldn't seek her out again.

Unfortunately, the days when he had to seek her out to know what she was doing were long past. He knew when she woke up, when she got angry, whether she was feeling hopeless or happy without ever having to see her. He found reasons to be alone when she was on patrol, for the adrenaline and Power-augmented tumult of battle made her presence in his mind impossible to ignore.

Nights were torture. He knew when she was with TJ, and even when she wasn't he couldn't stop his dreams. Jenna hadn't said a word, but he was terrified that one night the sound of her name would betray him while he slept. Or worse--while he wasn't sleeping.

"Hey."

He looked up in surprise as Andros joined him across the table. "Andros," he acknowledged, turning his half-hearted attention back to the tray in front of him. "I trust that you are well."

"Yeah," Andros said, frowning a little. "I am." Saryn could feel the other Ranger's eyes on him, and in typically blunt fashion Andros asked, "Are you?"

"Of course." He understood the importance of morale in their current situation, but he couldn't keep the irony out of his voice. "What makes you ask?"

"You've withdrawn more than usual," Andros said, stabbing the food on his tray and popping it into his mouth. A moment later he added, "Even from Jenna. Zhane was talking to her the other day."

Saryn sighed to himself. Zhane: that explained it. Andros wasn't one to venture into an emotional situation without prodding--or backup. The Silver Ranger would probably be arriving any minute.

"I assume," he said quietly, "that telling you I do not wish to discuss it will be useless in this case."

Andros smiled. "And I assume that you'll talk around it no matter how hard we press, eventually getting out of the conversation without having told us anything at all. But," he said with a shrug, reaching for his glass, "at least you know we care."

Saryn caught Andros' eye at last, and he allowed himself a small smile in return. "Yes," he agreed softly. "I know."