Reefside Madness
By: Pink-Green-White-4ever
Last Revised: September 26, 2010

Summary: One former Ranger learns it's not wise to leave her tired husband alone with their kids…
Rated: T
Setting: Post DT
Disclaimer: Don't own PR, they now belong to Saban again (THANK GOD).

Dedication: Shawn, Angel, Enigmaforum, Liz and Jeannine…thank you so much for being there, I love you all endlessly!


Cautiously, she pushed the door open and peered inside. The foyer was quiet, and for once, nothing was turned over. Raising one slim eyebrow, she crept into the house and quietly shut the door behind her. Kicking off her shoes, she tossed her keys on the table by the door and set her briefcase down. As she stepped further into the house, she quickly unbuttoned her suit jacket and shucked it on the recliner at the edge of the living room.

A loud gasp escaped her mouth when she got a full on view of the living room. There were clothes scattered everywhere, toy cars and Barbie dolls haphazardly laying on every available surface, and what looked like red popsicle handprints on the tables, walls, and television screen. Her hands instantly went to her hips and her eyes narrowed. Spinning to her right, she marched toward the kitchen, following what looked like more handprints as she went.

Her jaw dropped open in a gasp when she walked into the kitchen. The normally semi-clean kitchen looked like a tornado had swept through followed by a bloody battle. If she hadn't known better, she'd have thought Goldar had attacked. There were red stains everywhere – she couldn't tell if they were Kool Aid or popsicle – along with food in the sink, on the stove, and stuck to the walls. The water was still running and the freezer was open, a step stool in front of it. Her trained motherly eyes found the trail of chocolate and saw it was in the shape of three year old footprints. Dread coiled as she followed the trail out of the kitchen, through the hall opening back into the house, and up the stairs. When she got to the top, she heard the wild giggling. Using all her old ninja skills, she quietly crept down the hall toward the kids' room.

The room, as always, looked like something had exploded. Her three year old twins were still learning the fine art of keeping their room clean. When her foot became wet, she looked down to see a puddle of vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce.

Shaking her head, she peered into the room. Her husband lay on the floor, obviously passed out. Sitting beside him, Willow was wielding a tube of mashed up lipstick, a broken compact of blush, and all of her mother's eye shadow compacts. She was rubbing stained hands all over her father's face and black shirt. Miles was perched on his bed with their four year old boxer puppy, alternately feeding himself and the dog ice cream and what looked like an entire pack of Oreos. The pair happily chattered back and forth in three year old speak, which were occasional words and gibberish and happy chirps. That is until Miles spotted her standing in the doorway. "MAMA!"

The two o them got up and started to run to her until the look on her face stopped them cold. "Miles Aaron Oliver! Willow Marie Oliver! What do you think you're doing?"

"Daddy pwetty!" Willow happily explained as if she had just asked a totally stupid question.

"Doggie food!" Miles responded, looking between the dog and her.

"THOMAS JAMES OLIVER!" her voice rose in pitch and strength.

Before they could blink, Tommy was sitting straight up, his hair, even as short as it was, was matted to his forehead. His glasses were skewed and covered in makeup. And he was still half asleep. "Wha….huh?"

"For the love of Zordon!" she cried out in disbelief. "I leave you alone for five hours with them and the house is a disaster zone when I get home. I don't think the government issues funds for this kind of emergency!" she sarcastically complained,


"Don't you dare 'Beautiful' me!"

Miles leaned over to Willow and whispered conspiratorially, "Mama mad."

Willow nodded. She'd NEVER seen her mama so mad. "Mama?"

"Bathroom! NOW!" she ordered, pointing to the adjoining room. Her eyes were hot on Tommy's face. "The living room and kitchen are just as bad as in here. Put Ranger outside and get busy!" With that she stormed into the bathroom to begin the arduous task of cleaning her children.


With the kids tucked into her and Tommy's bed, she walked into their room. Her hubby had stripped the bed sheets and had floor cleaner soaking on the chocolate and vanilla stains as well as the makeup spots caused by Willow giving him a makeover. Shaking her head, she went down the stairs. The living room looked to be about the same, only there were no more handprints or dried popsicle stains anywhere. Stalking into the kitchen, she found Tommy on his hands and knees, scrubbing the floor. The table and chairs looked freshly scrubbed and a glass of wine sat waiting for her.


"I'm still not speaking to you."


"What made you think it was smart to fall asleep with two three-year-olds?"

He looked up and held his hands up in front of him in surrender. "They were napping with me, I didn't intend to fall asleep for so long," he sheepishly finished, looking up at her through his thick eyelashes. She mentally cursed those eyelashes, because they made him look so damn pretty and she always melted…but not this time.

"Tommy, if you were that tired this morning after grading papers last night, you could have told me. I'd have taken them to Rocky and Aisha's to hang out for the day."

He looked thoroughly chastised. "I didn't realize I WAS that tired.'

"I'm grounding them," she told him, watching him wince. "No t.v. for three days, no computer, and no video games. Understood? Even as young as they are, they knew better."

"Yes ma'am."

"I'm grounding you too. You'll come straight home from work, no hanging out with the guys next weekend. The grass needs to be mowed, Ranger needs to be groomed, and I want to rearrange the living room and garage."

Tommy's face blanched. He, Rocky, Jason and Adam had been planning a pickup game in Angel Grove followed by dinner out. "But…"

"Do you want me to embarrass you in front of them by telling them you couldn't handle your children for five hours by yourself? You, who has taken out larger than life monsters, flown massive robots, carried a talking sword, and worn pillow cases and spandex that defied the laws of stains?"

She recognized surrender when she saw it. "You're lucky I didn't have a camera."

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

"You realize you owe me a couple of good orgasms…but since our kids are sleeping in our bed, it ain't happening tonight."

"Am I sleeping on the couch?" he ventured.

She looked deep in thought before shaking her head. "No. Our bed is big enough for all of us. Besides, we could use chaperones tonight, so I don't kill you in your sleep."

Tommy grinned and crawled toward her. Leaning up, he kissed her softly. "I love you, and if you kill me, no more outstanding orgasms."

Kissing him back, Kim groaned and then laughed. "I really hate you right now, I want you and can't have you," she muttered and then smiled. "And dear, that's what they make battery operated toys for." Tommy looked scandalized before they leaned in to kiss each other again, only this time they heard giggling. Turning, they saw two sets of chocolate brown eyes peering around the doorway.

While Tommy chuckled, Kimberly stared at their children. They were the spitting images of her and Tommy. Willow was already two inches taller than Miles, with Kimberly's heart shaped face. Everything else about her was all Tommy – the dark eyes, the complexion, and already a mass of curly brown hair. Miles had the same dark eyes and thick hair as his sister with his father's facial features and her complexion. Kim couldn't help but think her children were the perfect mix of her and her beloved.

"Mama?" Willow asked.


"We hungy," Miles plaintively told her.

She gave them a smile and they rushed in, climbing into her lap. "Maybe Daddy will make grilled cheese sandwiches."

Two little faces turned in Tommy's direction, eyes wide and innocent with pleading expressions. "Daddy?" Miles asked.

"Grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup?"

"YAY!" the two cheered.

"Let's set the table while Daddy cooks. After you eat, off to bed with you."

The two helped Kim put plates, bowls, and cups on the table before getting utensils and napkins. Just as they finished, Tommy began serving up the soup and sandwiches while Kim poured milk into the kids' cups and wine for her and Tommy.

Sitting there together, Kim could do nothing but smile. Despite the afternoon's events, it was lovely to be able to sit and enjoy her family, craziness and all.