Disclaimer: I don't own Babylon 5. The lyrics at the bottom are from the song I Need You, by Leann Rimes. Last time I checked, I was not Leann Rimes. Don't sue, no profit was made.

The Earth reporter—what was her name? Sin…Sinthia? Yes, I think that was it, but human names are so hard to remember—seemed nice enough when she came into my apartment. She introduced herself as working for the ISN news network, and cut me off as I began to return the favour.

"I know who you are, Ambassador," she told me kindly, taking me by the arm. "I was hoping we could get an interview with you."

"Certainly," I agreed. This could be an excellent opportunity to forge new relations between Earth and Minbar. I lead her to my kitchen table, offering her the unbacked chair as a gesture of goodwill. She seemed not to notice, but I suppose that all of our traditions would not be known by the humans.

I watched as her camera crew set themselves up quickly around us, and she sat quietly, watching me. When they finished, she cleared her throat and smiled again.

"Alright," she said, "Shall we get started?" I nodded. "I'll just ask you some simple questions." She turned to one of her helpers. "Jason? Are we ready?"

"Yep," he replied. "Cameras rolling in 3… 2… 1…"

The reporter (Sinthia? I was still debating with myself over her name) focussed her attention on me and smiled winningly. "Since very few humans have ever been allowed on Minbar," she began, "perhaps you could start by telling us a little bit about your world." Well, that is a simple question. No risk of offending here.

"We are the seventh planet from our sun," I told her. "Almost one quarter of Minbar is covered by our north polar icecap." That said, I searched for something else. "Because our world is rich with crystalline deposits, many of our cities are cut directly out of crystal formations. During the spring, the patterns of colour caused by the light are… breathtaking," I bit my lip, smiling in remembrance of my years back home. Memories of my childhood—sitting on my father's shoulders, my tiny, chubby hands gripping his bone crown for balance as we made our way through bustling marketplaces and sunny parks. "Let's see, what else?" I continued, bringing myself back into the present. "We have three basic languages: Lenn'a, Feek, and Adronato, which is the language of the religious caste."

"Can you give us an example of Adronato?" Sinthia asked.

I thought for a moment before speaking. "Nih'k sahk, sek slembah," I said slowly, giving deliberate emphasis so that she might pick up some of the less accented syllables. I translated for her, "I am your friend in peace."

She seemed satisfied by this, but proceeded to change the subject. "Your appearance, though, isn't typical of your people, is it?"

I felt my smile falter. I should have known that this would come up. "No," I replied slowly.

"According to station records, you looked quite different a year ago," she commented, a demand for more information buried within her words.

I struggled a little to keep my face calm and my voice steady. "I volunteered for this change," I said, "in the hope that it would lead to a better understanding between our peoples."

"Over a quarter of a million humans were killed in the war with your people," Sinthia said, watching me carefully for my reaction. I kept my face as blank as I could, but behind that mask, I was crying. I lowered my eyes to the table as the reporter began to speak again. "How do you think the families of those victims will feel about your change?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but the words stuck in my throat. I closed my mouth, swallowed harshly, and tried again. "I—I don't know," I said haltingly, "I—I would hope—" I fell silent, and Sinthia continued.

"I think they would feel hurt. Betrayed," she said conversationally, but to me, the words felt like knives. I stared at her, restraining my instincts to flee. "That by assuming a human face, you're taking a part of us you're not entitled to. What would you say to them?" she questioned. I squeezed my lips between my teeth. "To all the husbands and wives—" she put a terrible emphasis on each item on her list that seemed to drive the bullet that I was thoroughly hated home "—and children and brothers and sisters of the people who were killed in the war with your people and now see a Minbari with a human face?"

"I'm—I'm sorry, can we—?" I stumbled, choking on the phrases, "Can we stop this?" I shifted in my seat, taking a deep breath. "Please?"

My comlink beeped and Commander Ivanova's voice punctured the sound of my troubled breathing. "Ambassador Delenn, you're needed in the Council Chambers." I listened to my friend without taking action on her words, twining my fingers together and pressing them against my chin, just below my mouth. I dropped them back into my lap after a moment and regarded Sinthia with a hurt stare, wishing she wasn't here. "Ambassador?" Ivanova's voice came again. I turned my head away to the side, staring at my sink and pressing my right hand into my lips. I fought desperately to keep tears back as I reflected that I was seen by both Minbari and humans as an insult. "Ambassador Delenn?" My breath caught in my throat, almost a sob, and I saw Sinthia out of the corner of my eye, motioning for the cameras to be turned off.

I slipped off my chair and put my back to her, swiping the back of my hand across my eyes, then spun to face her again. I opened one arm toward the door pointedly, and she had the courtesy to take the hint and leave.

Once the last of her crew was safely out of my quarters, I sank down against a wall in relief, resting my head on my knees. What would I say to the families of those I whom I and the rest of the Council orchestrated the doom of? Did everyone truly see me as such an abomination, as such an insult, that they would hate me? that they would hate me even for things that I was not responsible for?

As I sat there, curled in a ball, listening to the Commander page me again and again and wondering how long it would take for her to send security to my quarters to make sure I had not been assassinated, I comprehended that I longed for someone to hold me. It did not particularly matter who, I thought at first; Draal, Lennier, Captain Sheridan, Susan, or even Mr. Garibaldi, I just wanted someone to comfort me and tell me that I wasn't ugly, that I didn't affront them with my presence, that I wasn't an abomination. But then, after a moment, I realized that I would much prefer to be held by Captain Sheridan than any of the others. John, I thought as tears tumbled down onto my dress, I want John.

I need you like water
Like breath, like rain
I need you like mercy
From heaven's gate
There's a freedom in your arms
That carries me through
I need you
You're the hope that moves me
To courage again