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[icon] Power Rangers Ninja Storm. Hunter & Blake, 096 - Tired of bullshit dressed in gold.
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Subject:Power Rangers Ninja Storm. Hunter & Blake, 096
Time:06:51 pm
Title: Pretending
Fandom: Power Rangers Ninja Storm
Characters: Blake Bradley and Hunter Bradley
Prompt: 096. Writer's Choice Pretending
Word Count: 489
Rating: Teen
Summary: "Blake closes his eyes...and imagines shooting Hunter in the chest on a beach in Hawaii."
Author's Note: This is complete AU. Power Rangers Ninja Storm transposed into The Pretender, with Hunter playing the role of Jarod and Blake the role of Miss Parker.



He's never alone.

The tiny squeak of a camera zooming in on his movements (or lack thereof) decides to prove that statement at that exact moment.

He closes his eyes and lets his grasp on his pen loosen, just for a breath. Just one breath alone, is all he asks. The silence intrudes as surely as if Sydney was sitting next to him with the sharing-means-caring expression he must have perfected with decades of psycho-analysis on minds more brilliant than and more turbulent as his.

Blake despises the silence almost as much as he hates never being alone.

His phone rings.

Blake stares at it as it slowly buzzes across his desk. He waits. Three rings...six.

On the twelfth ring he picks up. “What.”

Hunter's voice is amused. It usually is.

“I'm beginning to think you don't want to talk to me, Mr Bradley.”

Blake closes his eyes again and imagines shooting Hunter in the chest on a beach in Hawaii. When that doesn't work he thinks of dropping Hunter's decapitated head on his father's desk, and the thought makes him smile.

“You know I live for these conversations.”

“Is that what you live for?” Hunter's voice is carefully controlled. If he didn't use the same tone every time he started talking about Blake's mother, it might actually be disarming.

“That and two-for-one day down at the local slophouse. What do you want?”

“To know what you live for.”

It's not the smugness, he decides. He's dated many too many sophomore beauty queens to mind that.

“I live to bring you in.”

Hunter pauses at that. A car beeps on his sides of the conversation.

“That’s…actually rather sad.”

“I’m not the one traveling around the country helping out the little guy.”

“No. You’re the one chasing the person helping out the little guy.” Hunter tsks, and there’s another car beeping. A baby cries somewhere close to him. A café open to the footpath, perhaps? “Not what your mother would have raised you to do.”

“Well we all get wrenches thrown in our plans once in a while.” Blake scratches his arm and decidedly doesn’t think of the run in his mother’s stocking as her body lay twisted on an elevator floor.

“Her plan lives on. In you. And maybe, in me.”

Blake suddenly felt very tired. Even closing his eyes and imagining Hunter swinging by his neck didn't help.

“What do you want, Hunter?”

Hunter's voice is soft and solemn. “I want what you take for granted.”

“And what's that?”

“A last name. A father. An identity.”

Blake opens his mouth to protest but stops upon hearing the dial tone. He drops the phone into its holder, and leans back in his chair.

Three thousand miles away Hunter snaps his phone closed and studies the pictures of Blake Bradley and Catherine Bradley. He’s a few steps closer to what he wants, but the truth is not what he needs.
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