Title: All of Your Demons

Author: Vaya

Disclaimer: I don't own B5

Archive: Only with my permission

Notes: Ok, so I was writing this other story and I realized two things that stopped me. One, this was yet another supernatural horror of big noisy evil for these guys to face and two, I hate writing mushy romance. So I deleted it. Sorry to the three people who read it . Instead I have started writing this, maybe I will get back to the other story, but not right now.

Opening transmission to Saturn Humanities Corps….

Waiting for reply….

Connection established….

Waiting for answer…

"Hello, you have reached Saturn Humanities Corps, if you know you're parties name-"

"Winton, Mark"

Dialing…

Waiting for reply…

"Mark Winton, Director of exploratory archeology, how may I help you?"

"Hey Mark its Pris…"

"Pris! Pris Carter!"

"The very same, calling to let ya know I am still alive."

"Where have you been woman? I've had police and private detectives out looking for you for months! We thought you'd died with the rest of your team on Minerva."

"No, erm, look that's part of why I was calling you…"

"You want to know if there's any chance of you getting a job after you lost an entire team of personnel, equipment, not to mention the liaison to the company?"

"Yes. It's a stupid question isn't it?"

"Yes, but that's what I like about you Pris, you're not afraid to ask. The whole thing was chalked up as a natural disaster anyways, though the board may want to know how you survived. Come to think of it, I'd like to know that too."

"Yes well, let's just say I have someone watching over me."

"Haha! Well I want to hear all about it, where are you?"

"Nowhere special really, but getting there."

"Well as soon as you get to Titan we should have dinner, in the meantime I am going to update your status, and talk to the board about your future here. I am sure I can pull some strings for you."

"Thanks Mark, see you soon."

"Later."

Connection closed.

Pris stood staring at the blank screen long after the conversation ended. She hadn't gone with visual because she didn't want to see his smirk when he saw her. Her appearance wasn't at its best, having lost some weight due to less food thanks to a long bought of unemployment on a frozen waste hole, her eyes had dark rings around them thanks to sleepless nights, and her hair had started to grow out and was getting to the awkward faze. She would like, if at all possible, to look human again before explaining to the company which had funded her Minerva dig just how she lost all the workers, equipment and had nothing to show for it.

Well, nothing she could show them anyways. Which is precisely why she had decided to wait on it, even though she knew she couldn't wait forever. She couldn't fool herself; this was her life, digging through old alien cultures, finding their lost secrets, not gallivanting about the universe looking for odd jobs, even if they did seem strikingly similar. A year ago, she would've said she loved adventure, now she was less sure. She missed a secure life, she missed her team, she missed her job, she missed sleeping in a bed, getting drunk and all that fun stuff she had given up for the past several months.

And now that it seemed her companion could go about freely without worry of arrest, it was possible. It probably would've seemed strange to an outsider that she didn't just give him up once they were off Minerva, to attempt to return to her old life sooner, but she had grown fond of him. If by some miracle she was reassigned to another digging team, she would want him to come with her. She was sure that someone with his qualifications could find work and would be welcome by the company as an asset. And since it turned out his government wasn't looking to track him down, they could validate him.

A movement and an impatient cough behind her told her that she had dawdled too long and someone else was waiting to use the phone. She excused herself and walked off down the street, back towards the hotel where she was staying. Opening the door into her room, she wasn't at all surprised to see that the place was cleaner than when she had left. This wasn't a mere miracle of hotel staff, cause there really weren't any, it was because Lennier enjoyed a neat room, and was bored anyways.

He was sitting next to the desk, reading a book on ancient Drazi culture, which she had bought in the store here, to replace the one she lost on Minerva. When she came in, he looked up, put the book down and rose to greet her.

Pris smiled and said, "I spoke to him, so we can head over to Titan in the next couple of days."

Lennier nodded, "And he will be able to find you more work?"

She nodded, but noted he didn't say "we". Was he planning on leaving as soon as she was all set? It was hard to tell with him sometimes, but it seemed that after they'd spoken with the Minbari Rangers at Alpha Pegasi 9, he wanted to stay in her company. Still there was always this sense from him that he was always running, and was getting ready to run from her too.

Lennier, for his part, didn't want to leave her, but he felt he didn't deserve to be with her. After learning that the rangers were not under orders to bring him in, he had felt a rush of relief, followed by a rush of foreboding. He realized that he had wanted to get caught, to be punished for what he had done. Now he had no one to run from but himself, his own sense of guilt and shame, and the dread that Pris was going to find out. She knew only that he had tried to kill someone important, she didn't know the details, and he didn't want that to happen, because then she couldn't be his friend anymore, and that may kill him.

Instead, he was determined to make sure she was secure and safe, before he went on his own again. His demons were his own, and no one should have to share them.

Meanwhile, on Titan, Jack Parker was walking through a dark alleyway on his way home from work. This was typical; he did this every evening, and had never found any reason to worry. Today however, something was off, on the edge of his mind, there was an inkling of fear. Instead of heeding it and taking the long way around, he ignored it and took his usual shortcut.

He started to whistle, to take his mind off of this gnawing fear he had, and continued on his way. Soon he would be home, have some dinner, and possibly even have sex if his wife was in the mood. All in all, it was a fine evening, if he could just loose this doubt.

It was about the halfway point through the alleyway, where it met with another alley, that he heard a noise. In his heightened state, it caused him to jump back a bit, and hug the wall. Carefully he peered around the corner, expecting, hoping, it was a rat that had made the noise.

What he saw was something else entirely. Three figures were talking in very hushed tones; two seemed to be normally dressed, while the third wore a large hooded cloak, concealing his face. Jack strained to hear what they were saying, but couldn't make it out. It sounded more like music than words.

His better sense told him to hightail it out of there, but at that moment, the figure opposite him looked up in his direction. Jack froze, afraid that any movement would give him away.

The other two continued talking, whatever it was, it sounded urgent and very important, almost like an argument. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he saw that the figure still talking was a woman, small and lithe, but not athletic, while the one looking in his direction was a tall man, built like a wrestler. The cloaked figure seemed even taller than the man, and Jack couldn't distinguish anything about him.

The wrestler seemed to relax after a minute, and Jack thought now was his chance to slip away quietly, when he noticed the woman was pushing a package onto the cloaked figure, seeming to demand he take it. What caught Jack's eye was the package itself, it looked like a sculpture of a heart, not the type one gets in Valentine Cards, but an actual human heart. Jack for a moment thought it was an actual heart, but noticed that it shone a dull green in the minimum of light.

The cloaked figure didn't seem to want to take it, but the woman was very insistent about it, so eventually he seemed to agree grudgingly. He then tucked it away into his voluminous cloak, and the conversation started up again in more urgent tones. Even the large man seemed to take some part in the conversation now, but it was mainly between the woman and the cloaked figure.

Jack was so intrigued by all this that he forgot his fear, and his caution, and had leaned forward out of his hiding place to see if he could catch a word or too. He still couldn't make any of it out and was thinking of moving in closer when he noticed the large man was gone.

A hand planted itself on his shoulder, and Jack was turned around and pinned against the wall. The big man held a hand to Jack's mouth to keep him from calling for help, and still managed to restrict Jack's movement with the other. He struggled, and was astounded by the strength he was up against. Jack had thought he was a good sized man, pretty strong, but he quickly saw that he was no match for this one.

The other two in the meantime had come over and were discussing something with the big man. Even though they were closer, Jack still couldn't make out what they were saying. He also still couldn't see the face of the cloaked man, whose voice was menacing and struck a chill in him.

Jack couldn't struggle, nor could he talk to beg for his life. He was terrified now, as they're conversation took on a much more sinister tone, arguing about what to do with him. They were going to kill him; of this he had no doubt. They were probably arguing about what to do with him once he was dead, how to dispose of his body. He suddenly thought of every bad thing he had ever done, and how he was never going to get to apologize and make up for them. He thought about the time, ok times, he cheated on his wife with the secretary of his boss, about the times he had stolen money from him and other things, a lifetime of petty wrongdoings about to be cut short. He had wasted his life, he had never done anything worthwhile or exceptional, and he was going to die and be forgotten forever.

The thought was indeed depressing.

At that moment, the cloaked figure reached out a pale hand and touched his head.

"Live there forever," said a deep voice. And everything went black.