Spoiler warning: Contains spoilers up to 'Intersections in Real Time'.
Historian's note: Set right after the events of Intersections in Real Time'. Does not include *any* events after that episode.
Disclaimers: All B5 characters and settings are the property of JMS, TNT and Warner Brothers. Don't own them, not claiming them, just borrowing them. No profit intended. However, if JMS should decide to resurrect someone in particular and needs another writer, I'm available.
Many thanks (and my usual box of virtual Godivas) to Jennifer for the beta!
On with the show!
Part 1
Coffee Break
Susan Ivanova stared at the veritable mountain of flimsies sitting on her desk, then at the small clock in the corner. Midnight. Rubbing a hand over her eyes, she reached for her coffee mug. It went back to the desk as soon as she discovered it was empty. "Forgot how much I hated this," she sighed. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself a moment's respite from the work ahead.
"But you're getting so good at it."
Opening her eyes, she found Marcus standing in the entryway, a large carafe in one hand and a small folder in the other. "Care for some company?"
With a nod, she gestured toward the chair across the desk. "Make yourself at home. Don't tell me she's got you hip-deep in paperwork already."
Dropping into the chair, he began to leaf through the folder. It was a battle to keep from smiling at the distaste in his expression. "Yes, and I swear Lennier enjoyed giving me this."
"Hey, it's not exactly a state secret that you hate this stuff. Believe me, I can understand why." Putting down the most recent maintenance reports, she nodded toward the carafe on the desk. "That what I think it is?"
"Coffee, fresh pot. Figured you could use it."
"Could I," she said, grabbing her empty mug. "Haven't had a chance to get another coffee maker to put in here."
"Still hoping he comes back?"
"Not this time. I tried to tell him. I just wish he'd listened." Yawning, she recovered the most recent security logs from the mountain of flimsies. Giving them a cursory scan, she tried to force her thoughts out of the direction they were heading. Force them away from Delenn's imminent departure, away from the idea of taking her old friend's place at the head of the galactic table. Waking up in a cold sweat from the nightmares of Sheridan's torture.
"Hello? Susan?"
"What?" she asked, shaking herself back to reality. "Sorry, I was just-"
"Worrying about things needlessly?"
"That, too," she grudgingly admitted. "Marcus, John's not coming back this time. Delenn's leaving for Minbar soon. Everything they did has come down to-"
"Us?"
Dropping the report to the desk, she studied his curious expression for a few moments. "You're going to take it?"
"Did I ever have a choice?" he cracked. "Though, I'll never know why she asked me."
"Simple," she said, leaning back in the chair. "I told her to."
"You told her to?"
His stunned expression finally brought a smile to her face. "That's what I said. When she told me she was thinking about possibly stepping down, she asked for my help in picking her successor."
"And you suggested me?"
"Actually, I insisted."
Pulling himself out of the chair, Marcus walked over to the office window. She watched him stare at the view of the fields before she could bring herself to get out of her own chair.
"Why me?"
"Because," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder as she approached, "I won't have it any other way."
"You know I-"
"Don't want it? Don't like the bureaucracy? Change it. Make it run your way. Do whatever it takes, but don't turn it down."
"Why?"
"Delenn needs you there," she softly told him. "And so do I."
"You do?"
Nodding, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll tell you exactly what I told her. You've been here since just about the beginning. You know how this operation works. Whoever takes over for Delenn has to be someone I can work with, someone who can work with me." Catching his gaze, she attempted to analyze his reaction. "Marcus, I also need it to be someone I can trust. Sorry if this sounds selfish, but those numbers seem to be dwindling by the day. You're all I have left."
"Susan," he sputtered, "there are a half-dozen other people who-"
"Have no experience working with me," she stated flatly. Shrugging, she took a step away from him. "I get it. You don't want to work with me anymore."
"Of course I want to-"
"Then what is it? I know you, Marcus. You're capable of handling something like this." She forced herself to keep her temper in check, feeling like a parent trying to coax a small child to the doctor's office. "Look, I've been there before. I'm not saying taking over for them is going to be easy for either one of us. It could be the biggest challenge you've ever faced."
"You don't know that," he countered.
"You're right, I don't." Stepping back to the desk, she leaned onto its surface. "But I do know that this has stopped being a military operation. The Rangers operate outside of the military, and I don't think Clark realizes just how much power the Rangers have at their disposal. Besides, we can't take the Rangers into this with a Minbari leader. John was right about that."
"Susan," he cautioned, shaking his head, "you don't understand."
A realization slowly dawned on Susan. "Wait a minute, maybe I do." The memory of a long-ago conversation replayed itself in her mind. "You said it yourself. You don't listen, you turn your back, and someone else pays the price. Is that what you're afraid of? That you'll screw up and someone else will get hurt?"
Even though his back was to her, she could tell she had hit a nerve. After a few moments, he quietly turned away from the window. Without saying another word, he recovered the folder from her desk and strode toward the door.
"I was waiting for it to be my turn." She looked over to see him pause just inside the door, his free hand against the wall. "Got to admit, your timing could have been better."
Crossing her arms over her chest, she resigned herself to waiting for a response. Any response was better than nothing. For a few seconds, she was afraid he would actually walk out the door and abandon her to the deafening silence.
Slowly, the hand came away from the wall and he turned back toward her. Unable to read anything from his expression, she concentrated on his eyes. Anger flared there briefly, softening within moments of his eyes making contact with hers. "Susan," he began in a low, troubled voice, "don't do this."
"I have to," she said wearily. "You have one hell of a chance here, Marcus. My grandfather used to tell me that when the winds of fate start blowing, you either tuck your head under the covers and wait for the storm to blow over, or you open the windows and enjoy the breeze."
Grabbing her mug from the desk, she took a long sip of the now lukewarm liquid. "Maybe we should talk about this in the morning," she sighed, a weariness from the argument compounding her already exhausted state.
"Susan," he asked faintly, drawing a step toward her. "Are you all right?"
"Thought you were mad at me?"
"I am, but right now you've got me worried. I haven't seen you this exhausted since the Shadow War ended. How much sleep did you get last night?"
"I don't know," she began as a yawn threatened, "three, maybe four hours. The usual."
"The usual?" Removing the reports from her hand, he placed them back on the desk. "This can all wait. You are going to get some sleep."
Weighing the issue for the moment, her decision was swayed by the appearance of yet another yawn. "I'll just lay down on the sofa. Wake me in a couple of hours?" Even as she asked, she knew it wouldn't take that long for the nightmares to surface once again.
"I'll wake you when you've had a decent night's sleep."
"Corwin-"
"I'll tell him not to disturb you."
Out of delay tactics, she resigned herself to the sofa. The stiffness of the uniform only made her unwilling descent into slumber all the more uncomfortable. "Never thought I'd miss the wolf," she grumbled as her mind finally succumbed to exhaustion.
Emerging through the darkness, she was aware of lights moving overhead. Her sleep-addled mind registered that she was laying on her back, and the lights were above her. *A hallway?*
She was moved into a darkened room and unceremoniously deposited onto the floor. Unable to see, she relegated herself to feeling for details in the walls around her. When she was greeted with few details, she turned her attention to the floor. Reaching what she had calculated was the center of the room, her hands met with a metal object. *A chair leg?*
Her hands roamed over the chair, and she discovered that it was not a normal chair. No, it felt to her like something she had only read about. It felt like an electric chair. Her fingers touched the metal shackles and chains that rested against the arms. A ring of metal hung around the top.
A disembodied snarl attracted her attention. "Did anyone come to Mars with you?"
When the words left her mouth, she realized it wasn't her voice. "I won't sign it," insisted John Sheridan's voice. She fought as the man tried to force her into the chair. "You'll have to kill me."
With a violent lurch and a loud snap, she was manacled into the chair.
"Captain John Sheridan," came another voice. Turning toward the door, she watched as a balding gentleman in a dark suit entered the room. He exchanged a nod with the man in black, and they were left alone.
"No."
As the mysterious gentleman slowly paced the room, she made a mental note of as many details of the man's appearance as she was able. Impeccably well-groomed, he carried himself with the air of a man accustomed to being in control. His suit suggested a government worker, someone that could not be bargained with.
"Captain," he began in a friendly voice, "it is very simple. You see, I am more than willing to release you."
"Then do it."
"Ah, but there's one other thing. You must sign the confession."
"I won't do it."
"Yes, you will. It's not a complex issue, Captain. You sign the confession admitting that Ambassador Delenn, Senator Fowler and Commander Ivanova are your co-conspirators, both you and your father will go free."
*What? John?*
"No!" she tried to yell, but to no avail. All that she heard was silence, until a whisper broke through to her unconscious mind.
"Susan? Susan? Wake up!"
With lightning speed, the older gentleman and darkened room resolved into the ceiling of the Captain's office. "What?" she started, still in a haze.
"You had a nightmare." Marcus knelt beside the sofa, concern evident in his features.
"How long?" she asked faintly, feeling the warmth begin to flow into her cheeks.
"A few minutes. I woke you as soon as I heard you start to talk."
"Thank you," she sighed. "Last thing everyone needs is to think I'm losing my mind."
The corner of his mouth twisted in exasperation. "I take it you've had this before?"
Rubbing her hands over her eyes, she forced calm into her voice. "Every night since the Captain left."
"You mean you haven't had a single decent night's sleep in three weeks?"
"Because of this nightmare? Yes."
"And before that?"
"Somebody always found a reason to wake me up in the middle of the night."
Standing, he extended a hand. "That stops right now." Helping her to her feet, he looked directly into her eyes. "You trust me?"
"Yes," she warily replied.
"Good. Come on." Still holding her hand, he tugged her along as he walked out of the office.
*****
Part 2
Bedtime Stories
"Two, right before you go to bed."
Staring at the vial of pills in her hand, she listened to Marcus repeat the instructions given to him by Doctor Hobbs not thirty minutes earlier. "Do I have to take them?" she asked.
"If you want to get rid of that nightmare, you do."
He was right. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. Pulling her robe tightly around her, she padded over to the small sink and drew a glass of water. Swallowing the prescribed two pills, she turned to find Marcus watching her from the sofa.
"Do you want me to stay until you get to sleep?"
"Please," she said, slowly pacing over to the sofa. "Just in case it doesn't work." Sinking into the comfortable cushions, she brought her feet up underneath her. "Look, I just want to apologize for what happened before. I was out of line."
"Not completely. Actually, you were right." His expression clouded briefly, then he appeared to force the thought away. "So, I suppose I should thank you?"
"If you want, but like I said, I really would prefer you take it." Her statement was cut off by a yawn more intense that any she had experienced earlier. "Those pills can't be working this fast."
"When you want me to go, tell me."
"You're in an awful hurry to get out of here," she said, one eyebrow raised. Grabbing one of the softer pillows, she placed it on the sofa beside him. Laying down, she closed her eyes, curled up and began to relax. "What I would like, is something to take my mind off of these nightmares. How about a story?"
"A story?" he asked, sounding confused. "About what?"
She shrugged as best she could. "I don't know. You decide."
"Something to take your mind off the nightmares," he repeated, pensive. "All right, how about this. Once, centuries ago, there were two kingdoms. One ruled by a king whose only heir was a princess."
She could tell from his halting tone that he was making the story up as he went along, but allowed him to continue unabated.
"The princess was by far the most beautiful, most intelligent woman in either kingdom. Possessed of a fiery spirit and an independent nature. The king knew she would eventually take the throne, so he sometimes allowed her to reign in his absence, when he would visit other kingdoms, that sort of thing."
"What about the other kingdom?"
"I'm getting there," he chided. "One day, an envoy from the second kingdom arrived. He was the sole heir of the reigning queen. When he arrived in the castle, he was brought before the king and princess."
She was beginning to get an idea of where the story was headed. "Of course he fell in love with the princess."
"On sight, but there was a problem. He could not find it in himself to tell her."
"Shy?" she asked, in between yawns.
"Precisely. The princess was quite friendly toward the prince, until finally he began spending more and more time in the king's court."
"What was the prince like?"
"What was he like?"
"Yeah. You described the princess, but not the prince."
With an exasperated sigh, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Why don't you describe him?"
Rolling onto her back, she allowed her feet to dangle over the arm of the sofa. She could feel the sleeping pills beginning to take effect. "He's shy," she said, looking up at him drowsily. "He's a prince, and this is *obviously* a fairy tale, so he's probably very handsome. Brave, noble, chivalrous. All-around pain in the ass. They sound perfect for each other."
"The prince thought they were," he continued, "but every time he got up the courage to tell her, something would happen and he would lose his nerve."
"Afraid?"
"Only of what she would say. He would have rather faced an entire legion of Sha-troops than be on her bad side for even a moment. He was never quite sure of the right way to tell her."
"If I was her," she whispered as sleep began a serious campaign for her mind, "I'd just want to know."
"So the prince should just tell her?"
Nodding, sleep finally claimed her, if only for a moment. On the fringes of her consciousness, she had the sensation of being lifted and placed back down on a soft surface. *Bed. Sleep.* With a soft groan, she curled up with the pillows.
"Goodnight, Susan," she heard Marcus' voice in the distance.
With a yawn and stretch, she managed to locate her voice before allowing a dreamless sleep to claim her. "Goodnight, sweet prince."
*****
Part 3
With Friends Like These . . .
"Commander, I understand Marcus spoke to you about my decision?"
Raising her eyes from the reports before her, Susan saw an exhausted Delenn leaning against the archway into the Captain's office. "Dammit, Delenn, I thought Hobbs confined you to bed?"
"She merely suggested that I remain there when I felt it was necessary," Delenn stated matter-of-factly, "I do not feel it necessary at the moment."
Placing the reports on the desk, Susan stared at them for a brief moment. "Yes. He talked to me about it. Why?"
"He does not seem to be himself. I am concerned that the added responsibilities may not be-"
"It's not that, Delenn," Susan interceded. "He's fine with that. At least, I think he is."
Her lips twisted in thought, the ambassador sank into the chair facing Susan. "Then something very interesting must have happened to him last night."
"What happened?" The idea that Delenn was worried about this was enough to trigger Susan's own concerns. "He was fine the last time I saw him."
The Minbari's slender hands folded over her lap. "He seemed unusually cheerful when we spoke this morning."
"Delenn, this is Marcus. He's always ungodly cheerful in the morning. It's one of his more annoying personality traits."
Smiling, the ambassador continued. "That may be true, but he mentioned a human concept that I had not heard of before."
"And that is?"
"Winning people."
"Winning people?"
"Yes. I believe he said that he had finally won his princess. Do you know what he is talking about?"
"His princess?" Susan repeated, now completely perplexed. "That paperwork must have caused him to lose his mind." It only took a moment for her subconscious to throw a potential meaning at her. "Oh," she realized with a half-smile, "I get it. He finally told her."
"Told her? Who?"
"Yes, and I don't know. He told me about her a few months ago. Said he'd finally found the right woman, he just hadn't told her yet." Leaning back, she folded her arms over her chest. "I just hope she appreciates it."
"Did he say who she was?" Delenn asked.
"No. There wasn't time. We were talking about it when we found that Vorlon fleet hiding in hyperspace."
Nodding, Delenn leaned slightly forward. "Did he say where she lived?"
"Just that she was back home." Susan's eyes widened as another realization dawned. "I thought," she started. "So she lives here?"
"It would appear that way."
"But, I thought he was going straight home after he left last night?"
"That is what he told me," Delenn stated.
"He didn't mention her when we were working. Did he say anything to you?"
"Nothing specific. The words he used, they do not, as you say, ring a bell?"
Susan replayed her somewhat hazy memory of the previous evening, searching for that key phrase. "No."
"Did you do anything else?"
The memories slowly focussed into clarity, beginning with her first efforts to get some sleep. "I was tired. We had an argument. I laid down on the sofa while he went over some reports. I had a nightmare. He took me to Medlab to get some sleeping pills, then back to my quarters. He waited until I fell asleep, then I guess he left."
"May I ask what happened while you were waiting to fall asleep?" Delenn asked.
Susan fought with her memory for the details of those minutes, or were they hours? "I think he told me some story."
"You think?"
"They were strong sleeping pills, Delenn."
"What was the story about?"
Susan's heart skipped as the memory snapped into focus. "Oh my God," she whispered, "it was some fairy tale about a prince and princess. Delenn, you don't think-"
"He may have meant the two of you?" the Ambassador inquired with a mischievous smile.
Susan's jaw dropped as the realization struck. Mentally reviewing the details of his little story, she felt her eyes widen even further. "Why didn't he say something?" she asked in stunned disbelief. "All the chances he's had."
Delenn leaned forward as she rose from the chair. "The heart does as the heart does, Commander. The universe knows what it is doing, and when is the right time to do it." With a rustle of silks, she stepped toward the door. "Oh," she said, turning a smile toward Susan. "He said he would be in the Garden if anyone needed him."
*****
Part 4
A Walk in the Garden
Someone was nearby, of that she was certain. Stepping away from the simple intricacy of the Zen garden, she was unable to locate the source of the feeling, until she turned around.
"Looking for me?" Marcus was leaning casually against one of the taller trees, arms crossed over his chest and smiling like a Cheshire cat. He was making no attempt to hide the fact that he had been watching.
"Actually, yes." she replied with a raised eyebrow. "Since you seem to be at one with the universe today, I thought maybe you could ask it for some answers."
The first half of her comeback only served to bring his usual half-smile to his face, the last seemed to make him curious. "What answers do you need?" he asked, pulling himself away from the tree.
"Well, considering they all seem to have something to do with you . . . ."
*Okay, Ivanova, how do you ask this without letting him know that you know?*
Taking a few deep breaths, she struggled to find the right words. When they finally came, she raised her attention back to his inquiring gaze. "Delenn stopped by to see me this morning. She was worried about you."
This was obviously not the route he'd expected. "She was worried about me? Did she say why?"
Susan shrugged. "All she would tell me was that you had been acting unusually cheerful when she saw you. I told her it was one of your more annoying qualities, but she seemed to think this morning was different. Said you mentioned something about royalty?"
If she had any doubts about her theory, the panicked expression that quickly took over his features put them to rest. "Royalty?" he gulped.
"Yeah," she said dryly, fighting to keep the smile from breaking out. "Something about you and some princess. She couldn't figure out what the hell you were talking about, thought maybe I knew what was going on in that head of yours."
"Delenn told you that?"
"Like I said, she couldn't figure out what you were talking about. She thought maybe I could."
"Did you?" he asked.
"Did I what?"
"Figure it out?"
Schooling her features pensively, she creatively avoided the real answer. "Well, outside of that story you told me last night, I haven't even heard of a princess since I was a kid. Since none of the League worlds have allowed their royalty to visit since the Shadow War broke out, the only thing I can figure is this princess must be that mystery lady of yours."
"Well," he stammered, "yes, actually."
"There's only one problem with my theory, Marcus. Like I said, we haven't had any royalty on board since before the Shadow War. She doesn't live on Arisia, does she?"
"No one lives on Arisia anymore, Susan."
"Minbar?" she asked.
"Hardly," he said.
She had a sneaking suspicion that he had picked up on her evasive maneuvers. "Then, by process of elimination, she lives here."
"That *would* follow."
Susan slowly nodded. "Okay. Does this have *anything* to do with that story you told me last night?"
He took a deep breath. "Yes."
It was a hard-fought battle to keep the smile off of her face. He looked like someone who was convinced they were about to die. At least he was facing it with a brave front. She played the ruse just a little longer. "Are we talking an analogy here? Like, the prince was you and the princess was your mystery lady?"
He lowered his eyes to the grass and very slowly nodded.
"Ah, I think I'm beginning to see what's going on here," she lied. She walked over, stopping directly in front of him. "Marcus?"
His eyes never left the grass. "Yes?"
"Fiery spirit, huh?"
He nodded.
"Independent nature?"
"Yes."
"I noticed you said beautiful before intelligent."
He very slowly raised his eyes from the ground. "Would you prefer intelligent and beautiful?"
She made a show of thinking about it for a second, then shrugged. "From you, I suppose I could live with the beautiful first."
"Beautiful, intelligent and compassionate," he said, visibly relaxing.
"Only for good friends and one painfully-shy prince." She ran her fingers over the blush in his cheek. "Look, I've got to get back to work. Come by tonight?"
He very slowly closed his eyes, appearing to enjoy her touch. It was a sight that warmed a long-cold heart. She felt, more than saw, his nod.
She turned to go, reluctantly pulling her hand away. When she got a few feet away, she looked back. "Is it too late to expand my description of the prince?"
He shook his head.
"Let's see, brave, noble, chivalrous, *definitely* an all-around pain in the ass. Being a prince, he is, of course, *devastatingly* handsome," she smiled, making sure he knew she was only partially joking. "What to add to that? How about patient, dependable and trustworthy? How about the kind of person the princess has been waiting a long time for? Someone the princess recognized right off, but was afraid?"
He took a few steps closer. "Afraid?"
She nodded. "My heart and I haven't spoken for a long time, Marcus."
Hope lit up his eyes. The softest smile turned his lips. "And now?"
"I'm listening."
"Still afraid?"
She shook her head. "Curious."
"Curious?"
She smiled. "About what story you're going to tell me tonight."
[FIN]