Characters, settings etc all belong to JMS. no offence meant fanfic only.

adult themed but non explicit - some bad languge.

please review - your comments are welcome.


"Computer, record: personal log, November 4, 2262, subtitle: damn you Cole.

"I've asked no-one disturb me. Not today. By rights I shouldn't be here today to ask that of anyone. But I am. It is now a year to the day since you gave your life to me.

"Stephen called earlier – checking up on me no doubt. He is still no further forward in bringing you back, but he did give me lots of news from the station some good – mostly bad. Delenn's pregnant! I am happy for her but – I don't know – it makes me so angry, John was brought back from the dead – why haven't you been?

"I talked to Stephen for a while – we talked about you. He told me a few stories about working with you. It was good – no one on this ship knows why today is so important to me so there is no one to reminisce with. Not that I would anyway – I am the Captain and with that I keep my distance from the crew. But damn you Cole, I thought I'd got used to being alone but now – why did you have to do it?

"Computer Pause."

I can't do this any more Captain Susan Ivanova thought to herself while reaching for the two-thirds-empty bottle of vodka sitting on her desk and pouring herself a liberal measure.

"Damn you Cole," she repeated to her glass, "why did you do it?" She reached into the desk drawer and took out her most prized possession. It was a small metal box of memories. Mostly it was data crystals but it contained a scrapbook with a few photos and other trinkets that would mean little to anyone else. She looked at pictures of her family. Her father. Her brother. Her mother. Stopping at the last one she whispered, "You'd have liked him." She flicked on to some group pictures taken at various celebrations and functions on Babylon 5 containing Sinclair, Sheridan, Garibaldi, Franklin, Corwin, Delenn, Lennier, Londo, G'kar and Vir to name a few. And Talia. She had a piece of paper stuck in beside the photograph of Talia. A list of foodstuffs ordered one evening from one of the Station's many take-away providers. She flicked uninterested passed them all, only stopping again when she reached the pages of photos of Marcus. They had been very difficult to obtain – he seemed to disappear any time cameras were about. Zack was helpful though – he had found various images of him on security cameras and enhanced them to very good quality. The only one that wasn't like that was a shot of Franklin, Garibaldi and Susan drinks in hand taken sometime - Susan couldn't remember – it had Marcus in the background sat alone gazing wistfully at Susan. Always watching.

It was stupid. He was only part of her life for two years and even then only vaguely. He had been gone a year now, one more and he would have been gone every bit as long as he had followed her around. Physically gone anyway. Her personal log mentioned him in almost every entry and she kept a file of things he was bound to want to know about when he was revived. The dreams still haunted her. Not every night – not any more - but still at least twice a week.

She always felt safe just on the brink of sleep where she could almost hear him whispering to her. The dreams felt so real - what if it was him actually existing inside her- only able to communicate with her when her resistance was at its lowest? Some nights she screamed blaming him for everything that had ever gone wrong. Some nights she ignored him walking along endless corridors like she was trapped in a maze and every corner she turned he was there. Some nights she ate with him and told him her secrets enjoying the company and feeling so safe. Some nights she loved him and took his innocence time after time. Those nights she both loved and despised – the dreamlike feelings of desire and completeness swiftly replaced with the harsh reality of emptiness and guilt as she awoke.

To commemorate she decided to watch some of the personal log entries Marcus had made while on Babylon 5. Zack had provided her with them as well. They had been in her possession since before she left the station but found she couldn't bear to watch them. Now she couldn't bear not to. She needed to hear him – even if the words weren't intended for her.

Taking one of the data crystals from the box she slotted it into the console in front of her. She looked at the list of entries – there were a lot. Most were labelled 'fao my replacement' – Susan's blood ran cold – she played the first one labelled such.

Marcus looked like death warmed up. Susan remembered how he had turned up on the station – half-dead and determined. A chill ran the length of her spine when he started to talk.

"January 5, 2260: Ranger's Log - Happy New Year. Tell that to the Rangers on Zagros 7. Anyway. My name is Marcus. I have just arrived on Babylon 5. I don't expect my time here to be without its dangers. My role will be to represent the Rangers and to do as Delenn and Sheridan command. I am expendable but the job is important so I shall mark all entries that would be useful to someone taking over from me…"

Susan shuddered and emptied her glass. "Computer Stop, Computer, find entries marked 'Personal' and containing the words 'Susan' or 'Ivanova'". The list grew shorter.

Among the entries some of the older entries grabbed her attention. They all seemed to have titles rather than just dates. Reading down the list there was approximately 1 a month from when he first arrived on Babylon 5: 'What a place'; 'Happy Valentine's Day'; 'Blown it'; 'Still Hope'; 'Surprise Me'; 'The Chart'; 'Letting Go'… and so the list continued.

'What a place' was dated a few days after the first entry she had listened to. Marcus sat staring into the camera. He was lying on a Minbari-style bed staring at the ceiling as he spoke.

"January 8, 2260: Personal Log - What a Place. Made it back from Zagros 7. With a bit of help from the 'Whitestar' we defeated the Shadows there – Sheridan is either completely mad or totally brilliant – a jump point inside a jump gate? It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Delenn and Sheridan have formed the 'War Council'. We'll beat the Shadows- or die trying.

"I have been told to report to medbay – Dr Franklin was unimpressed by my unauthorised departure when we first met but I didn't actually hear him tell me anything - I was unconscious at the time. He cornered me after the 'War Council' meeting. I'll see how long it takes him to track me down.

"I must wander about the station some more – it is an amazing site – so diverse. Both in the amount of species and the conditions they reside in. I walk in the better parts of 'Down Below' and my heart breaks – especially when I think about the splendid conditions the Ambassadors have. I will do everything I can to make life a bit easier for them – help those that everyone else has turned their backs on.

"Speaking of the Ambassadors, Delenn is a highly interesting individual. I enjoyed proving myself to her, although when I told her I don't believe in miracles any more and that 'when part of the heart goes dead, best to leave it that way.' I might have been overly hasty with that answer.

"I met Commander Susan Ivanova."

Marcus stood up and started to pace back and forth.

"Seems nice. Obviously Military. Knows everything that is going on. Well claims to. I see that as a bit of a challenge. When we were headed to Zagros 7 she seemed genuinely interested in me. Don't know why but when she asked why I had joined the Rangers I told her about William. I don't make a habit of being so open with strangers – I just felt like I could trust her.

"I've been doing some research on her. She is headstrong and arrogant but a damn fine Commander. Apparently always right. No close family – not any more anyway. Worshipped by the Drazi – I knew I'd heard of her before the human who became the leader of the Greens and turned them all Purple – brilliant." He walked back to the camera – his green eyes gleamed and there was a slight redness to his cheeks, "What's more she is possibly the most beautiful woman I have ever met."

The recording abruptly ended. Susan poured some more Vodka into her empty glass. "Computer, play next entry"

"February 22 2260: Personal Log. - 'Happy Valentines Day.'"

Again, Marcus looked tired. His features twisted in distaste as he mentioned the old Earth custom. However, as soon as he mentioned Susan's name his face brightened and he became more animated.

"Just back from a mission out to find some 'Old Ones' with Ivanova and the Whitestar. She was far from happy when I showed up to translate for her. Wonder what I've done to upset her.

"I spent a lot of time talking to Susan. She spent a lot of time trying to ignore me. Don't think she likes having nothing to do except be patient. I'll find out what she is running from – and why she is so angry. Personally, I think it is a defence mechanism."

"Screw you Cole" Susan said to the screen.

"Keep thinking of her at the first meeting of the 'War Council'. She had her hair down and I swear my heart skipped a beat when I saw her smile. What I would give to see her smile again."

"Marcus..." Susan tugged at her collar and decided she'd have to get the repair crew to have a look at the environmental controls in her room it seemed very warm.

"The way she convinced the 'Walkers of Sigma 957' to join our battle by effectively telling them 'The Vorlons think you guys are wussies' – outstanding. Remind me never to get on the wrong side of her."

Susan felt the blood rush to her face- much as she liked praise it still embarrassed her – even if it was from almost 3 years ago. "Computer, continue playback."

"March 13, 2206: Personal Log. - Blown It. I'm an idiot. I am a stupid foolish idiot. Garibaldi's words keep ringing in my ears 'Ivanova is right. You are a pain in the Ass.'"

Marcus paced back and forward looking angry and discontent and – in Susan's opinion - badly in need of a drink. For that matter so was she, and the damn bottle was almost empty.

"I hate to see Duncan leave here – but just maybe he really is going to find a better life for himself – on the up side it'll save me a fortune – buying all the junk he sells in order to give him enough to live on – wonder if he ever found out I was putting half the stuff back? I wish I had trusted him and let the Vindrizi stay inside him. He had found meaning and hope and I took that away.

"I shouldn't have dragged Dr Franklin to Down Below and endangered his life like that. It was good speaking to him though. Even if he told me I was completely not Ivanova's type. Not sure exactly what he meant by that. I'm not military – I know they like to stick together.

"Did a bit more digging on Susan. She isn't the only one that as sources and closely monitors what goes on. Found out she had a friendship with a telepath recently – Talia. It ended badly. Rumour has it they were somewhat close. Maybe I'm the wrong gender. I don't think so though – there seems to be a history of failed relationships with men too."

Susan's cheeks burned at the mention of Talia. How dare he dig into her past? What gave him the right to speculate about her gender preference in partners? And as for 'Military sticking together,' screw him.

"I found out it was her brother that influenced her to join 'Earth Force' – well him going missing in action. That's why she wears the single earring. How insensitive must I have sounded when I was telling her about William? 'Hey love, we've got something in common – we're both fighting our dead brother's battles.' No wonder she hates me."

"Computer, pause." How dare he talk about her brother! How dare he compare their lives! "Damn straight I hate you!" She told the screen. But she could scarcely hold back the tears when she looked at his face – he looked broken.

"I never wanted to upset her. I wasn't looking for sympathy or solace when I told Susan about William. I just felt the uncontrollable urge to tell her the truth – she didn't seem the sort to play mind games with – or that would have the patience for a typical Minbari-like answer. I thought 'let her judge and decide if there was any chance of friendship – or more.' Me and my stupid big mouth have done it again – blown any chance of her ever tolerating me. Maybe my subconscious is jeopardising my chances of ever being close to someone. But she doesn't need to know any of this and I'll just go on being 'Annoyingly Cheerful Marcus' and alone."

This was working well. She was remembering how annoying and self-pitying he was. The comments and witty retorts he made that showed a complete disregard for authority. Her desire to throw him – or just someone - out an airlock was almost masking her need for another drink. The vodka was, however, a more practical option. She retrieved another bottle from the cupboard. "Computer continue."

"March 14, 2260: Personal Log - Still Hope"

Marcus was grinning looking like he might explode. He couldn't stand still and sounded elated. He was brandishing a familiar looking bunch of artificial roses.

"She came out of nowhere, like a woman possessed and threw these at me, telling me to 'keep them'. I don't understand women. Strike that, I don't understand Ivanova, but I must thank Stephen – he must have said something to her for her to give me these. Looks like she is giving me another chance!"

Susan looked over at her dresser and blushed deeply. The roses were sitting there in a vase. She had liberated them when she had been putting Marcus's meagre belongings into storage. He would have given up on her if it weren't for those roses. He'd still be here. Who the hell had sent them then? "Damn you Cole, you couldn't even send me flowers.

"Computer, next."

"March 18, 2260: Personal Log- Surprise me. I hope Susan liked the bacon and eggs. I bet Garibaldi is jealous – I know he likes his food. I've lost count of the number of favours I had to use up to pull it off but Susan is worth it. It means so much that she arranged a security pass for me. I'm sure mentioning the coffee plant in passing had no influence in her helping me.

"I haven't mentioned the roses. Given the way they were presented, I guess they were an apology. I thought it would be safer never to mention them ever again.

"With any luck she has eaten and enjoyed her breakfast. Now I just have to keep out her way until I escort Dr Kirkish to the War Room – my favour for Garibaldi proved to be a lot more straight forward than the eggs- she can't throw me out an airlock with that many witnesses, can she?"

Bacon and eggs. Susan smiled at the memory. The irony of the setting – Garibaldi had been bitterly complaining about the food and then the bacon and eggs had arrived. She had been somewhat embarrassed but also touched. Susan smiled at the memory. Pouring herself another drink she started the next entry.

"April 8, 2260:Personal Log - The chart"

Marcus sat on the floor of his quarters. There were bits of paper - some were photos, some crumpled prototypes - all around him, as was a fair quantity of pens and he was brandishing a stick of glue. He held up a picture of his parents and repositioned a few other pictures on a large sheet of cardboard and started gluing down the pictures and carefully drawing lines between them. Beside the large piece if card were several smaller pieces of paper, all with slightly different layouts.

"This is for Susan. I hope she likes it. She is fiery so I could end up on the other side of an airlock. I wish you guys were here I'd love to introduce you. She is really pissed off with me at the moment. She's really pissed off with the Universe. As far as she is concerned it has stopped making sense. She doesn't know where she belongs any more."

He looked into the camera.

"I'm recording this because it might be the last thing I ever do. If she takes it the wrong way I may be leaving Babylon 5 and there may or may not be a ship on the other side of the airlock I'm thrown through.

"Susan was really distracted and worried about the Captain, I'm relieved he made it back from Ganymede but I honestly expected to be sent on the mission.

"I can live with being a 'Loose Cannon' and as for everything being my fault – it makes a change someone other than me saying it but she needed to blow off steam – so did I. I may not have grown up on Earth but I agree we should not have to fight them as well as the Shadows."

He picked up a picture of his brother.

"William, you are going to have to stay out this one – I don't want and repeat of the last time I mentioned you. Now all I have to do is work out what command structure it is based on, and do I point out she is centre of everything or do I hope she notices that herself? Is it too forward putting myself right there beside her? Hopefully she'll not take it as presumptuous. I want to make her laugh. If it takes her away from reality for even a few minutes the last week will have been worth it."

He looked so determined and focused on the task. A week! It took him a week to make the thing? He had spent that much time on an item intended as a throwaway gesture – something to amuse her for a minute or two. His dedication to the task in hand – no matter how menial was astounding. All the comments he made, the witty retorts at inappropriate moments usually designed to lighten the mood and make her feel better. She flicked forward a few pages in the scrapbook where she had a photograph of the chart – the real one in storage with all of Marcus's stuff. She ran her fingers over it and wiped away the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She remembered the night well – it was the night Martial Law was declared on Earth. Marcus had been about to leave when Sheridan had advised Susan to switch on ISN. She had wanted to grab Marcus and demand that he tell her it wasn't true, the whole thing some elaborate hoax. She had wanted to grab Marcus and not let him leave because it was too much to take in alone. She had wanted grab Marcus and have some human warmth shielding her from the universe. But she hadn't been ready to deal with that. She hadn't said anything and after a few minutes of awkward silence Marcus had slipped out her room.

"Computer, play me some more"

"Please restate, order not recognised"

"Computer, play next entry - Dammit"

Marcus looked agitated. He paced back and forth. Then sat down Denn'Bok in hand and he fidgeted with it as he spoke – extending and closing it absentmindedly.

"May 15, 2260: Personal Log - Letting Go. It has been a tough few weeks for us and it is only going to get worse. I can understand why Delenn wanted to carry out the "Rebirth Ceremony". We are at an intersection – every choice we make is important. At least that's what "Ranger One" would say.

"When Delenn was kidnapped I would have torn the station apart to find her – out of honour and duty.

"It worries me a little how good I felt when I took on the entire bar in a fight. I didn't see them for who they were, I saw them as everyone who has ever done me wrong, every one who has ever hurt my friends or family. Perhaps I was also angry with Delenn for telling me that I had to give up my pain and forgive myself for being alive. I would have fought Lennier too for his lack of anger had he not grabbed me by my throat and brought me back to my senses. I keep forgetting how strong the Minbari are – especially when I am working with members of the Religious Caste who prefer words to physical action.

"Looking back I now see why carrying on with the Ceremony was so important to Lennier – especially since he trusted me with his Secret. I am honoured and I shall take it to the grave. Even so, I hate the Ceremonies. I have no more to give.

"Delenn is right though; her words so often act like a mirror reflecting back the truth behind the statement made. All I have is my pain and if I give up that what happens if I find there is nothing left? I wonder what the others are willing to give?

"I cannot forgive myself for being alive when everyone I have ever cared about is dead – not yet."

He closed the Denn'Bok and stared directly at the camera. His green eyes seemed to be staring into Susan's alcohol-soaked soul.

"I can't bring myself to take part in the ceremony – not properly. My pain is too hard to give away. But I do have a secret that I am ready to admit to myself – there is one person I care about who is alive and I will do everything in my power to keep her that way. One day I swear I'll tell her how I feel. One day I hope she'll consider me a friend. One day I'll tell her I love her."

He lowered his voice and moved close to the recorder.

"One day I might not be a virgin."

Why did he have to be so damn sweet? Why couldn't he be the same sore of low-life loser she normally fell for? Why did he have to give his life to her? Why hadn't she slept with him even once? Why was her glass empty? Susan threw the glass across the room and it smashed off her door.

She staggered over and tried to pick up the pieces. She cut her right hand, swore loudly and decided the rest could just stay there. She walked over to the roses and idly brushed the petals of one – leaving a trail of blood as she went.

The room was spinning even though she was pretty sure it had no authority to be doing that sort of thing so Susan decided to lie down until it stopped. She liked her soft mattress and solid horizontal bed. She had toyed with the idea of a Minbari style bed in honour of the life force that pulsed through her but alcohol and angled beds don't really mix and with everything else that missing from her life the Vodka wasn't going anywhere. That said; it had been a while since she had been this drunk. Once he came back they could argue about the angle of the bed. Once he came back…

Susan was in a familiar room. She knew she knew it, just didn't quite know where it was. The walls were blurred – almost non-existent. She was suddenly aware of someone standing behind her. She spun round and saw Marcus standing there in his brown Ranger robes clutching a single red rose.

"Susan, you look beautiful." He said –handing her the flower. She took it and saw it was real – not like the synthetic version from a few years ago. She noticed what she was wearing. It was a long black empire-cut satin dress. Over it was a sleeved satin robe. It strongly resembled nightwear she had. A rogue thorn impaled itself in her right hand. Susan let go of the flower but it remained where it was – held in place by the thorn imbedded in her flesh. "Oh, I'm sorry. Here let me, um right" Marcus fussed around – carefully extracting the thorn from her hand and putting the roses in a conveniently placed vase. He carefully wiped the blood away and gently kissed the wound. "I thought better late than never, but in hindsight maybe I was wrong." He had not let go of her hand.

A rabble of conflicting emotion swept through Susan. She wanted to scream at him; hold him; beat the hell out of him; smile; cry; laugh. He was still holding her hand, gently stroking the wound. Why did it feel so damn good? There was music. Slow music. The kind of music that had existed solely for being the last dance since the time that dancing had been invented. She slowly pulled her hand away and put both arm round his neck. Marcus placed his hands round her waist and drew her close. She relaxed into his strong embrace. He whispered, "We always were good at dancing – we waltzed around each other for almost two years."

"Don't. Don't ruin it."

"I've told you I'm all in your head, so technically you're the one that it ruining it."

"Then why is it you that is being such a bastard?"

"Because you expect me to be. You can't handle be being everything you want. Because you spoil everything before it has a chance to work – even in your fantasies."

"But the rose…"

"Had a thorn – of course that's just because you cut yourself before you passed out. I worry about you Susan. I worry about me. I didn't give you my life just so you could waste away. What happens to me if you drink yourself to death – after all I'll all in your head."

"I told you before – I've had you frozen – when they find a way to bring you back to me they will."

"What if you are gone by then?"

Susan pulled herself out of his arms and took a couple of steps away. She screamed at him the tears rolling down her cheeks, "then you'll live a long miserable life alone just as I am."


Susan sat up – suddenly awake. The sweat was running off her and her head was pounding. She slowly lowered herself back down. She knew water would be a good idea right now but nothing would have made her leave her bed at that point. Her eyes were heavy – she would just close them for a little while…

Marcus was standing there in his brown Ranger robes. "I'm sorry Susan. That was uncalled for."

"It was just a dream. You are just a dream my subconscious punishing me. You are dead after all."

"Like the whole God thing – if one doesn't exist people make one up anyway. Although in your case, you just tell people you are God – saves the hassle."

"Marcus!"

"Sorry, uncalled for. Come here."

Susan let herself be drawn into his arms into a warm comforting hug. "Why did you never tell me how you felt?"

"I tried. I was scared. When you wake up watch the last entry in my personal log. It tells you why I did as I did. Ok, I never saved the one I made on the White Star before the crash that might have told you more but hey." He withdrew from her and with one fluid movement picked her up – on arm supporting under her knees the other at her shoulders. "I only ever carried you like this once. I pulled you from the wreckage of the bridge of the White Star." He put her onto a bed. A nice flat bed. He sat down on a chair beside her.

"Don't. Don't sit out there." Susan's voice quivered. Marcus sat onto the bed. Susan rested her head on his chest. She ran her hand over the Ranger pin he wore. The friction caused her hand to start bleeding again. A drop fell on the badge, and another.

"Be sure not to cry. Two tears of blood, one of water – then I'll never be able to come back." Marcus wiped his badge with a cloth that was conveniently there and then Susan's hand – taking the blood and the pain. He delicately brushed her hair with one hand; the other wrapped round her protecting her from the world. "Let me look after you. Rest now."

Susan let herself be stilled by Marcus's words and reassuring arms. Listening to the steady sound of his heart she drifted off.


The room was tidy. The glass was gone. Her hand had a plaster on it. A single rose was out of the vase lying by a glass of water; a little blood was on its petals. She must have been really drunk – she didn't remember tidying up. She was due on the Bridge in a couple of hours – enough time for a shower, some breakfast and to watch one last entry from his diary. She pondered watching the next one in the sequence but instead jumped to the end.

"1 November, 2661: Personal Log – Goodbye."

It was Med Lab on Babylon 5. Susan was lying unconscious on a bed. Marcus was hauling a heavy machine over to the bed. The room was strewn with medical equipment that had been tossed aside in his rush to procure the right machine. Marcus looked terrible. His eyes were swollen as if he had been crying solidly for days and his skin pale like he had not slept. He paused momentarily and smiled warmly at Susan. He started to attach the wired to himself and then to her. He gently brushed her hair off her face and kissed her hand.

"They say we did it – we won the war – that Clark is dead. As far as I'm concerned we lost in the instant that the White Star was hit and you were critically injured.

"If this works the way I think it will I will not see tomorrow. 'Give a life to save a life' was what Franklin said. He will be so angry with me – he'll class it as suicide but it is not. Suicide would be to do nothing. At least this way one of us survives.

"I hope in time Delenn will forgive me for taking a White Star and abandoning my post but as she said in that interview 'A heart does as a heart does'. I had no choice – not when I was given a smidgen of hope.

"I am thankful Lennier gave that to me. 'Nothing that can be used' – I'm grateful that Minbaris do not lie. We are not so dissimilar; I know he knows what it feels like to be willing to do anything to help someone he loves – even dying. If the love is unrequited so be it.

"I cannot go on with you, Susan. I have lost too many people I care about. Anyway people love and respect you - the 'Voice of the Resistance' can't die. I have done everything I can for you the last few days – making sure your bed is flat, making you feel a part of the War. I couldn't tell you that you wouldn't make it. I could tell myself that.

"If you don't make it than neither will I. I have worked hard on forgiving myself for being here when all the people I have ever loved have gone but I couldn't forgive myself if I lost you. If the machine doesn't work and you di…don't make it then I will volunteer for every dangerous mission – fight every hopeless battle until my soul is released and just maybe we can be united.

"Just before the final battle you told me you knew what I said last year – about you being beautiful. I wish I had told you what I meant back then – or any other occasion but I was scared to – in case you told me you didn't feel the same and now it is too late.

"My only regret is that I will probably loose consciousness before I know if the machine has worked. I will sleep by your side as I have since the accident only this time I won't wake up. I will watch over you until I no longer can. I will wait until I have no energy left to do so then tell you what you mean to me – and pray that somehow you hear me."