"So I hear you're leaving."
Susan turns away from the window. Garibaldi is across the room, leaning against the door frame, hands in the pockets of his pants, fake casual.
"I hear you're back."
He makes a face and half shrugs.
She remembers when they first met, a thousand years ago, neither of them shiny and new by any metric, but less scarred than they are now. With him in his frumpy civilian clothes and her in her Earthforce uniform with the new captain's bar on the chest, with what he did to John and what she promised to do to him, a gulf yawns between them like the distance from the station to Mars.
She's going to have to forgive him. She keeps losing people, she suspects she will continue to lose people, but somehow she got this one back. She doesn't believe in miracles. She doesn't believe in much of anything anymore. All she knows is she isn't going to keep making the same mistakes.
Well, might as well get it over with. She steps forward. "Garibaldi-"
At the exact same time he says, "Look, Susan -"
They both stop. He gestures for her to go first.
"Franklin told everyone what happened. I don't know how much of what happened was your choice, but -"
"Neither do I - Ivanova, I'm so sorry, you've gotta believe me. I'm not gonna say I would never have turned the Captain in because I did, but..."
There's still this part of her that's pissed. Where does he get off looking so distressed about it when John's the one who got tortured within an inch of his sanity? The rest of her knows that's not fair.
"I know, Michael, it's okay."
He snorts. "No, it's not."
"Well, I am God, so if I say it's okay, it's okay."
He seems to struggle for a moment between annoyance and amusement, then finally cracks a smile. "That's it? You're not even going to hit me?" There's a hint of that old spark in his eyes.
She smiles and it's less fake than most of her smiles this past week. "If you're disappointed I can always arrange something."
He puts his hands up in surrender. "Thanks, I'll pass."
The initial horrible awkwardness is broken, and he comes and joins her as she turns back to the window.
"I'm still sorry. God, Susan -" He drags his hands down over his face, suddenly. "- what the hell do I do now?"
"You're asking me? The woman who's running to the rim to escape her feelings?" She looks out at the stars. Maybe there's an answer out there, like Delenn believes. Maybe out there in the silence she'll be able to hear her own heart better. Maybe that's crap.
"Fuck Bester," she says. Fuck Marcus and his self-sacrificial bullshit, she thinks. She's run out of tears, but she'll probably find more of those out in the black, too.
"In my experience, anger helps." She's been trying anger a lot, lately, when she can feel anything but numb. It's not a good coping strategy, but it's better than some.
He sniffs. "Better than nothing, I guess. I've got some great plans for that little creep when I get my hands on him."
"If I'm in town, I'll hold back his arms."
"It's a date."
His smile is brittle and hers is mostly fake, but it's better than nothing. They look out at the stars together for a long while.