Disclaimer: Power Rangers belongs to Saban Entertainment. due SOUTH belongs to Alliance Atlantis. I am a non-profit person, yo.

Author's Notes: LJ Anniversary story -- thanks for the love, all you guys!

"Are you a Power Ranger?"

Ray looks down at the kid, who's wearing a little red nametag that says, "Hello! My name is BRADLEY." "Say what?"

"Are you a Power Ranger?" another kid explains excitedly. Her nametag says, "Hello! My name is ALYSON."

"Yeah, are you?" asks LOGAN, and before Ray can do so much as say "God no", SAMANTHA, ELLIOT, and the rest of Ms. Jackson's fifth grade class've surrounded him like some sort of juvenile mob or something.

"Hey -- look, I'm not, okay? I'm -- "

"I think he's the Blue Ranger," TIMOTHY says, yanking on Ray's jeans so LOGAN can look at them more closely. Ray chokes, and yanks his pants up frantically -- he doesn't know what's gonna happen if a bunch of little kids force him to flash them, but it cannot be good.

"Uh -- look, I'm not a Power Ranger. I'm sorry, I really, really am, just -- "

"Nonono, he's the Black Ranger -- lookit his jacket!" squeals ELIZABETH.

"Hey -- quit it, you're gonna tear the -- " Ray is going to separate Dewey from his head. No kidding. Blabbing on about how Ray loves kids, like Ray's going to stand for all this yanking at his jacket and shirt and goddammit, kids, d'you really want to get corrupted? "Leggo of the pants! Off! Off! I mean it!"

"Hey!" says STEVE, completely unimpressed, "I think he's the Yellow Ranger! Look at his hair!" And then STEVE grabs that, which Ray does not appreciate at all.

"Ow! Ow, dammit!" So the kids heard him swear. Big whoop. They probably didn't hear him, anyway, 'cause they're sure not listening to anything else he's saying -- and besides! They're pulling his hair out by the fucking roots! And it really fucking hurts! And anyway -- "The Yellow Ranger's a girl! She's always a girl! Do I look like a -- "

The kids all go totally silent, and Ray doesn't think it has anything to do with his awesome logic skills.

"Wow."

"Sweet."

"Look at his hat -- it's like, like, that thing -- "

" -- park ranger. Man, that's smart -- " and Ray feels his heart sinking. Great. Just great. Wait for it, it's coming --

"He's the Red Ranger -- " somebody squeals, and just like that, all the kids let go of him and dash across the room to gape at Fraser like religious freak-loving extremists, or something.

"Ray?" Fraser says, frowning and making his way through the crowd of kids. "Might I ask what -- "

"They think you and me're Power Rangers," Ray mutters, running his hands through his hair and trying to convince himself that most of it's still there. With his luck, Fraser won't have any idea what Ray's talking about.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Power Rangers. 'Cause -- I dunno. You're really red." Actually ,for all Ray knows, Fraser might be a Power Ranger. Like, he's always red, and he's got his crazy abilities that keep getting them not killed. Not that Ray minds, or anything -- but Fraser could totally be the Red Ranger.

Dammit. Ray is not ten years old. Really.

"And a Power Ranger is...what, exactly?"

"It's, uh, a TV show. Where there're these teenagers who beat up bad guys and save the world from evil. You know. Make things explode."

Fraser scratches his head. "Well -- aren't we, then? Or weren't we? When we were teenagers?"

"Uh. No. No, see -- they do this transformation thing. They magically get color-coded masks and guns and stuff. And they do this thing with -- um -- robots, I think." Getting humiliated while trying to explain American pop culture to a Mountie was not in the job description."Fictional beings, Frase," Ray blurts, on a brainstorm -- and Fraser, the freak, suddenly gets it.

"Surely they know that the Power Rangers are fictional in nature?"

"They're kids, Frase -- and no, you're not allowed to tell 'em. They'll start crying, Ms. Jackson'll come back and freak, we get sued for child abuse -- you catchin' my drift?"

"Ms. Jackson?"

"The teacher. They're fifth graders, and they're havin' a field trip to their friendly neighborhood police station. I'm gonna kick Dewey in the head later -- remind me about that next time you see him."

"I -- all right, Ray, if you think it's necessary." Fraser looks back at the kids, who'd make the best Mountie surveillance cams ever if they got a chance at it. "What do you propose we do, then?"

"We gotta convince 'em that we're not Power Rangers somehow. Like, you gotta come up with some other reason why you're red like that."

"Well," says Fraser, all dignified and Mountie-like, "there is a reason why I'm red, Ray."

Oh boy. This is gonna be bad. Fifth grade kids plus Canadian history always, always equals paper airplanes and spitballs. Ray knows, because he himself was ten once, which Fraser probably never has been --

-- except the kids're totally mesmerized. Huh. Ray'd underestimated the power of the Red Ranger's leadership skills. That's really kinda scary -- Ray bets Fraser could probably make those kids do anything; he could even make 'em launch a ballistic missile into Washington DC. 'Course, Fraser wouldn't, 'cause he's got morals, bein' the Red Ranger and all.

Uh.

Mountie. He meant Mountie. Really.