Life On Mars by ceilidh
A/N: Well, here I am again, with another series of 'missing scenes'. These will feature Michael and Lise as they settle into married life together. I have several ideas, and I'm sure more will follow, so I don't know yet how many stories there will be. But the first one, of course, has to start with B5's other momentous wedding.
Objects In Motion really speaks for itself, so I've set this first story on Mars rather than B5, as Lise gets used to the idea of being Mrs Garibaldi.
As always, I hope you enjoy :o)
Life On Mars
Chapter One - From This Day Forward
He was still sleeping, deeply enough for her to snuggle up against him without fear of disturbing him. From past experience, Lise Garibaldi knew there'd be Italian hell to pay if she did. If there was one thing Michael cherished, as much as he loved her, it was the rare luxury of a full night's sleep. On B5, with all the responsibilities that his position had held there, it had been close to impossible.
Still, at least he was smiling tonight - not shaking awake from the horror of recent memories, or heaving his guts up. And wherever that playful subconscious had taken him, he was clearly enjoying himself.
Smiling too now, Lise slid her arm a little further across the solid warmth of Michael's stomach – knowing from a deep sigh, and that irresistible grin, that she'd just joined him in his dreams.
She'd always loved watching him sleep. Loved the changes that it brought to him. Sleep took away the troubled, tortured soul who'd hurt her, so much and deeply, so many times. In its place, it brought back her very own Peter Pan.
The little boy who'd never quite grown up.
The brash, world-weary cynic, who'd giggle himself to tears over the antics of Daffy Duck.
Her soul mate. Her ex and now lifelong lover. Her Michael.
Hers now, and no-one else's. Shared vows, that glint of gold on his hand, would see to that. Hopeful women could still look, of course, and she didn't blame them. But they couldn't touch. So those hopeful envoys who'd eyed him so flirtily as they'd boarded the shuttle had wasted their time.
To her amusement, he'd not even noticed. Throughout the flight, proudly protective eyes had looked at her, and no-one else. The only time they'd wandered was to glance down at the ring on his hand - staring at it, in silent wonder, as if he couldn't believe that it was actually there.
Even now, as she did the same, Lise still couldn't believe it either. But she wasn't imagining things. That band of precious gold was as solid, and real, as the body that now cradled hers so snugly.
Her dream had come true. After years of trying, she finally had him. Michael Garibaldi was hers now, for life.
So yes, she had every reason to smile now as she glanced up again, to study the face that she'd fallen so instantly in love with. Yes, it was older. A little fuller than when they'd first met. Lined by years of personal, and professional, traumas. But it was still so expressive. Still timelessly handsome.
He was right, too, although she'd never make the mistake of telling him that aloud. Lise Hampton-Edgars-Garibaldi was never going to fit on their his-n-hers bathrobes. Lise Garibaldi, though? Or maybe just M-L-G? Yeah, that would suit both of them. She'd just have to make sure that his robe had those essential pockets.
Lise Garibaldi. The more she rolled her new title around in her head, the more she loved it. Lise Garibaldi. Ga-ri-bal-di. Mrs Ga-ri-bal-di.
Silent laughter overtook her now, as memories of her madcap marriage returned. She'd expected a quiet wedding, or at least a chance for her arm to heal first. But no. A reassuringly familiar rush of energy had spaced those ideas out of the nearest airlock – sweeping out of Medlab to find that minister, and traumatising that poor orderly for life.
And for the obligatory witnesses – well, only two very special people had been entrusted with such a special honour. The friend, near brother, who'd stood by him through brutal betrayal and ongoing redemption – and the other, surrogate brother who'd raised the task of saving his life into a medical art form.
Maybe that's who he was sharing his dreams with now, Lise mused, gently tracing her fingers around his chest. As he started out on this new life, so his subconscious had taken him back to his old one – letting him enjoy one last goodbye with the friends that meant so much to him.
Friends that he loved as family. Damn it, she realized, through a sudden pang of guilt, had she been right in pressing him to come back here with her? Had he pushed him into this marriage too hard?
Yes, she knew he loved her, more than life itself. And yes, it had been his idea to get married on B5, so she couldn't doubt his commitment. But it must have hurt him like hell, to have left such truly special friends behind. She'd seen it on his face as the shuttle had left the docking bay, granting him one final glance as it banked away onto its course – the station he'd loved, that he'd almost died protecting, so many times, fading slowly out of sight for the final time.
He'd insisted it was just dust in his eye, but… no, even as she'd nodded, Lise had known better. That last goodbye had been harder on her husband than he'd ever admit.
But as she'd learned, so often, for as long as she'd known him, Michael Garibaldi was just full of surprises – deepening dimples assuring her that, in both his dreams and conscious reality, he would be alright.
There were no regrets, no second thoughts. Just this second chance that neither thought they'd ever see. Maybe that's why her arm tightened back around him now, in her own determination not to let that chance, or him, go.
As that twinge through her shoulder reminded her, they'd both just had one hell of a close call. More would surely follow, and – hell, this damn shoulder was now really starting to hurt.
She'd bitten back a hiss of pain, tried so hard not to disturb him, but – yeah, she should've known better. Even in the darkness, she could hear the tension in his voice. See the flare of panic in his eyes as he sat up, instantly and anxiously awake.
"L'se?"
Aw, hell. Not only had she woken him, she'd lost the support of the comfiest pillow in the galaxy. The most protective one, too, who'd be horrified if he thought, for one second, that he'd hurt her. So when she saw his mouth open again, Lise knew what to do, and how to do it – swallowing up his tumble of anxious questions in a kiss that threatened to suck out his tonsils.
By the time she let him up for air, his anxiety, and her aching shoulder, were magically forgotten – a dumbstruck grin much easier for her to handle than yet another assault on his conscience.
God knew, that conscience had been shot to hell enough already, more than it ever deserved to be – hence the relief that now swept away all lingering twinges when Lise looked up again into his eyes.
Bright blue, and wickedly glinting. Full of life and mischief, just as she'd always loved them. Beautifully clear. Even more beautifully sober.
That voice too, so deliciously playful, was all that Lise could hope to hear.
"Hey, who knew painkillers had such great side effects?"
"Yeah, remind me to thank Stephen when you call him later-" Lise grinned, kissing him again as they wriggled joyously under the bedclothes.
Wonderful laughter answered her. Equally mischievous giggles returned it. Then neither of them spoke, or formed any kind of coherent thought, for a very long time.
