"Whatcha doing?"

Hunter's voice echoed in the almost empty control room, and Cam sighed to himself. So much for having the afternoon to himself. He had assumed that all the other Rangers would be busy with Valentine's Day plans, but far be it for Hunter to ever do what was expected of him.

"It's something with which you might have a passing familiarity," Cam said dryly, as Hunter wandered across Ninja Ops as though he had nowhere else in the world to be. "It's called 'work.'"

He heard Hunter snort, and he knew the Crimson Ranger was giving the big screen an idle once over. "Ha ha," he retorted. Then he did a double take. "That's work?" he demanded. "What are you doing, watching 'Days Of Our Lives' on the internet?"

Cam folded his arms, letting the high-speed data stream slow to realtime as he leaned back in his chair. "It's been more than two years," he muttered to himself. "And they still can't recognize Ranger history when they see it."

"History?" Hunter sounded, if anything, even more incredulous. "If those eighties rejects grew up to be Rangers, I'm not sure I want to know."

"It's 1993," Cam snapped. "And they don't 'grow up' to be Rangers. They are Rangers."