"You what?!" Susan Ivanova whirled around in the pilot's chair to send her passenger the death glare.

"I didn't think we'd need them!" Marcus Cole, who was bent over his own consol and had missed her stare, responded. "How was I supposed to know that we'd be encountering an oxygen-rich atmosphere? I thought you said all the planets in this system were uninhabitable! Why are we in the atmosphere anyway? Can this shuttle even handle atmospheres?"

"Not anymore it can't," Susan muttered, struggling to pull her ship out of the steep dive it had gotten itself into. No, the ship hadn't gotten itself into it, Marcus had gotten it into it. He'd rerouted power from the oxygen shields to boost scanner range; they'd been sent to search for traces of a certain chemical with an unpronounceable name—Susan just called it A2. But then they'd encountered some sort of extreme gravity well, probably some type of singularity that hadn't shown up on the preliminary scans of the region, coming from one of the planets. And so now they were rapidly and unwillingly descending into an oxygen-rich atmosphere inside a shuttle whose hull was made with a metal that reacted explosively with oxygen when heated and combined with carbon dioxide, without any shields. Brilliant, brilliant Marcus.

She fixed her eyes on the display screen, fingers flying on the control keys. The engine warning light blinked on inconspicuously, and she slapped it in annoyance. Yes, alright! She knew there was something wrong! How in all hell could she not know that there was something wrong?! The computer beeped at her, signalling another malfunction, and then suddenly, everything went black. Silence descended along with the darkness, leaving only the sounds of the distant roaring of burning air on their hull and the beginnings of small explosions. The engines had died.

She leaned back in her chair, banging her head against it, eyes closed. Bugger bugger bugger. She was going to die, with only that idiot for company. At least, she thought optimistically, if she exploded, it would be pretty painless.

She heard Marcus stand and sit beside her in the co-pilot's seat. She didn't look at him, but peripherally, she could see him watching her silently. She was strangely happy that he didn't speak, didn't apologize for taking away the shields. After all, it wasn't really his fault they were in this predicament. The oxygen shields, or lack thereof, hadn't caused the singularity, whatever it was.

He did, however, cautiously set a hand on her upper arm, offering non-invasive comfort. As the windows were consumed by flames, she reasoned that maybe having him there wasn't so bad. It was, at least, better than dying alone and unnoticed. She slipped her fingers through his and squeezed.

The first thing Susan noticed as she awoke was, interestingly, not the very heavy weight on top of her. It was that she was, in fact, awake, and this triggered a strange sort of surprise. As her eyes opened, she was greeted with another layer of blackness, and for one dreadful moment thought she'd gone blind. Then, she registered something distinctly icky in her mouth and recognized it as hair, and shook her head and spat to get it away. Even once that was gone, it was still dark. However, way far above, there were tiny pricks of light and a large silver moon. A very familiar large silver moon.

She sat up and the weight fell off to one side, into the long grass. She looked down at it and found that it was Marcus, his eyes closed and mouth half-open in a goofy, dreaming smile.

She stared around at her surroundings. She was sitting in a large meadow, at the base of a small hill. In the distance, there were lights that lit up the sky with a dull purplish glow, probably a city. She wondered belatedly if this was all a dream, being as a) she shouldn't still be breathing, and b) this planet was uninhabitable.

Beside her, Marcus stirred. With a combination of a yawn and a groan, he stretched and opened his eyes. She watched as he registered first the starry sky and then her face. He snapped into alertness, sitting bolt upright and staring around.

"Sweet dreams?" she asked casually. She loved how she could do that, just ask a question or make a remark so calmly, when truthfully she was terrified.

"Rather, actually," he replied. She scowled internally. He had the same ability. "Where are we?"

"In a field," she stated, "Where else?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I thought you said this planet was uninhabitable."

"It is," she said, serious now.

He took a moment before responding, "You suppose we're dead, then? Maybe this is heaven?" He looked around. "Not quite how I pictured it, though, what with the whole 'place where no shadows fall' thing and all. Still, it's rather pretty, don't you think?"

Susan rubbed her forehead, trying to think. Were they dead? It certainly seemed the most likely scenario as it would have been nearly impossible to survive the shuttle's explosion, let alone be on an inhabited planet where there should have been a singularity. Her eyes fell on the moon again. What was it doing way out here?

"Is it possible that the gravity well we fell into was actually a wormhole?" she asked, another possible (and far more preferable) solution popping into her mind.

Marcus shut himself up and thought for a moment. "Yes, I suppose so. But a wormhole with a singularity within it?"

"True," she nodded. "Besides, someone would've noticed it before now, and it would've shown up on sensors."

"Could it be some sort of jumpgate?" he suggested. "Granted, the immense gravity well isn't exactly standard, but maybe something went wrong in the formation."

"That's possible," she agreed, latching onto the idea, "Maybe it was a species experimenting with jumpgate technology. I'm not very familiar with the theories involved, but isn't the basic principle for making the opening in normal space to create a tiny but extremely powerful gravity well? Maybe whoever was experimenting didn't figure out how to counter it."

"Perfect!" he exclaimed, clambering to his feet. "That would explain how we ended up on a habitable planet. The rift into hyperspace probably wasn't stable, and so once the shuttle went in, it fell out again soon after in a random location."

"Exactly!" she grinned, but then paused, looking around. "But then, where's the shuttle now?"

"Might it have burned up in the atmostphe—"

Ivanova interrupted him, "No, our jumpgate theory doesn't work."

"Why not?" he asked, surprised, "It sounded fine to me."

"Because we were in an oxygen-rich atmosphere as soon as we came within the singularity's reach," she reminded him. "The jumpgate would have had to be at the singularity's centre, but we kept falling even after we were in the atmosphere. Also, to come all the way to Earth, we would have had to be in hyperspace for at least six hours."

"But this wasn't normal hyperspace," Marcus pointed out, "And couldn't the singularity have shifted somehow to be beyond the jumpgate itself?"

"A black hole in hyperspace?" she questioned. "That's not possible."

"Wait." Marcus frowned again. "Did you say this is Earth?"

"Yeah, of course," she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes… you've never been to Earth?" she stared up at him.

"Nope," he shook his head, "but, since we're here, couldn't we just take a transport back to Babylon 5? I mean, that's a city over there, isn't it?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Marcus," she remarked, "we're not on friendly terms with EarthGov."

"EarthGov doesn't have to know, does it?" he inquired lightly.

"Fine," she agreed easily. "Then let's go. It's a long walk."

"How much further do you think it is?" Susan asked, still trekking though open fields toward the city. "We've been walking for what, three hours?"

"Two hours and thirty-two minutes," Marcus corrected. "I would estimate that we've already walked twenty kilometres, and judging from the size of the city lights, I'd say we have another ten or so to go." At his companion's heavy sigh, he continued brightly, "Oh, it's not that far! Why, in Ranger training, all recruits are expected to take a one hundred kilometre walk at least once a week. You get used to it after a while and—"

"Is that a path?" Susan asked, all too happy for an excuse to silence him.

"Where?" he asked, scanning the field around them.

"There." She pointed. "See that gap in the grass? Let's head for it—it'll make walking a lot easier."

"Sure," he consented, and followed half a step behind as she led the way. The path wasn't far, and it turned out to be paved in a crude form of asphalt, which, though horrible for the environment, provided an excellent walking surface. Though it was presently deserted, the pathway was obviously very busy during the day even though it seemed a little strange that enough people would want to walk so far out of town to warrant a painted lane divider.

Though tired, Susan picked up her pace, setting her goal as reaching the city before sunrise, which didn't seem to be too far away as the edge of the sky were beginning to light up. Marcus trotted gamely alongside her, chattering away so much she almost didn't hear the rumbling noise that was steadily—and quickly!—growing louder. She stopped walking abruptly to listen and Marcus continued a few more steps before he noticed the lack of her presence. Stopping his constant nonsense brigade, he turned, about to question, but she held up a finger.

"Do you hear that?" she asked.

"Of course I hear—" he cut himself off as a pair of blindingly bright lights rounded the corner. They raced towards the two people, and then a very loud noise that reminded Susan strongly of a goose assaulted their ears.

Whatever it was that the lights were attached to screamed to a stop, leaving Susan and Marcus shielding their eyes and reaching for their weapons. There was a noise like an old-fashioned hinge-door slamming and a person—a Human, they saw as he came closer—approached. By this time, Susan had deduced that they thing with the lights was actually an automobile, a car, an early internal combustion vehicle, probably from the twentieth or twenty-first century. Why this man could possible want or need to drive such a slow, clunky machine was beyond her.

"You two look lost," the man said, "You need a lift? Where're you goin'?"

"We're going to that city," Susan replied, pointing behind her.

"Ah, perfect luck," he said, and though his face was completely shadowed by the automobile's lights, she could hear a grin in his voice, "So am I."

"Lovely," said Marcus, subtly (or, at least, as subtly as he could under such blinding spotlights) slipping a hand onto Susan's elbow. "Thank you for the offer, but we really should be on our way again." He tugged gently on her arm, already turning to leave.

"Marcus," she warned quietly, pulling herself out of his grasp. If this man was kind enough to offer them a ride for the next ten kilometres, by god she was going to take him up on it, slow clunky machine or no. Besides, Marcus's worries were unfounded—she felt no malintent from the man, to whom she was returning her attention and granting an apologetic smile. "Ignore him. He's always so overprotective." She put an affectionate arm around the Ranger's waist. Marcus was surprised, she could tell, but he caught on quickly as she knew he would and grinned self-deprecatingly as though acknowledging Susan's words.

The man's tone didn't change at the display of romantic feelings between the two, making Susan even more certain that he had no intentions towards them other than delivering them to the city. "So, you two comin'? I do want to get a little bit of sleep tonight."

"Yes," she said with a nod and a pinch to nip any protests Marcus might have in the bud. "Thank you."

The automobile turned out to be a lot larger than Susan's mental image of the outdated vehicle. It had a sort of cabin that seated five, two in front and three in the back on a bench-type chair. Behind the back seats was a wall, on the other side of which was a large open area, probably for storage. She worried only faintly about exploding as she sat down in the back seat and searched for her seatbelt.

Once they were moving, the stranger made idle conversation. "You two from the anime convention? You did a great job on those outfits, by the way."

"Er," said Marcus, shooting a questioning glance at Susan, "Yes. Thank you."

"My niece went to it," the man informed them as they turned a corner at a speed that seemed awfully dangerous in such a rickety hunk of metal, "She dressed up as something from that show… oh I can never remember the name. Inisha? Ah, you know the one, right?"

"Yes," said Susan.

"I do remember who she was goin' as, though," the stranger said helpfully, "She wouldn' stop talkin' about it. Always 'Kagome this', 'Kagome that'!" He chuckled, "Sorry. I'm just not much of an anime fan—I'm not meanin' to offend you. She's a cute kid."

"What's her name?" Marcus inquired politely.

"Annie," he replied. After that, the vehicle's interior descended into silence for perhaps a minute, until the driver spoke again. "I'm George, by the way."

"Lucy," Susan lied smoothly.

Marcus, failing miserably to come up with a name that could suit his appearance, said "Joe", and Susan tried not to groan.

"Nice to meet you," George said, "You two live in Renfrew?"

"Ah," hesitated 'Lucy', "No. We're just visiting for the… anime convention."

"Why not stay in Ottawa?" George asked.

"We have friends in Renfrew," Susan replied, "We're staying with them."

By this time, they were driving down another, smaller road, between old buildings and antique street lights. As they came into a residential neighbourhood, Susan began to wonder if this was some sort of historical village. Each house had an automobile in an asphalt driveway, and there was no sign of the towering apartment buildings that had been present in every city she'd seen last time she'd been on Earth. As they reached what seemed to be the main street, Marcus caught sight of a flickering neon sign that said 'HOTEL' and nudged Susan, lifting a finger to discreetly point.

"You can just let us off here," she said to George. He nodded and slowed the vehicle, pulling up beside the sidewalk. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome," he replied. "Oh, it's just beside the armrest."

"Pardon?" questioned Marcus, looking down at the armrest beside him.

"The door handle," George clarified, sounding vaguely amused.

"Ah," said Marcus, catching sight of what could be construed as a rudimentary hatch handle and pulling it. The door clicked and swung open. "Right. Thanks."

They clambered out of the automobile and Susan turned back. "Thanks," she said with a smile.

"Anytime," replied George, just as friendly, "See you around."

She nodded and smiled again, and began to walk away, but stopped when the door didn't close automatically. Not wanting to look like a complete idiot, she hastened back and shoved it shut. They waved as George drove away.

Immediately, Marcus spoke. "I feel it's necessary for me to point out that that guy could very easily have been a thief, a murderer, or any number of things that would make getting into a small, confined space with him a very bad idea. He could have even been working for Clark, for all we know!"

"I didn't feel anything like that from him," Susan replied evenly, "and it was an awfully long walk. I would like to point out, though, that I made sure to emphasize that you were protective of me, just in case I was wrong and he was some sort of criminal."

"Oh, wonderful," Marcus remarked sarcastically, "Thanks. In case you didn't notice, I'm not armed!"

"Oh, shut up," she snapped half-heartedly, "neither was he. Besides, admit it. You're glad we didn't have to walk the rest of the way." Marcus said nothing, and after trying and failing to stop the right corner of her mouth from quirking, she changed the topic to something more productive. "Let's find a communications terminal."

"To contact Babylon 5?" he questioned, "We'll have to find a way to access the secure channels, but even those may be being watching. It might be safer to see if we could use a private terminal."

"Good thinking." Susan nodded. "I doubt Clark's got eyes on them, too."

"Let's go, then, Lucy," he grinned, apparently not having forgotten that he'd lost their last argument and determined to at least poke a little fun at her.

Susan snorted, refusing to let him have his fun, "As if 'Joe' is any better."

"Hey!" Marcus put on an expression of extreme offence, "I happen to think Joe is a lovely name."

She raised an eyebrow and headed towards the nearest building that lacked a sign declaring it a hotel or shop, motioning over her shoulder him to follow. The chosen building, what they hoped was a house, had just one storey and was made of horizontal panels that appeared to be wood. They climbed the three steps onto the small, concrete front porch, and looked around for the signaller. The closest thing either of them could see was a small, round button, and so after glancing at Marcus, Susan pressed it with her forefinger and bent over to speak into the microphone that was presumably concealed under the decorated metal around the button.

"We would like to use your communications terminal," she said somewhat awkwardly. It occurred to her that it was still an ungodly hour of night, and added, "Sorry for the intrusion." That done, she straightened and waited. And waited.

"Do you think maybe they didn't hear it?" suggested Marcus.

Susan shrugged and pressed the button again, repeating her message into the invisible speaker. Just as she was finishing her apology for the odd timing, the door pulled open to reveal a bleary-looking Human in a bathrobe. "Yes?" he asked, running a hand through his messy hair absently as he struggled against a yawn.

Susan straightened and glanced at Marcus. Maybe the speaker was broken. Better repeat the message again, then.

"You want to use my what?" the sleepy man asked.

"Your communications terminal," Marcus piped up, sounding remarkably cheery in contrast to the stranger, who blinked dully. "You know, little screen in the wall, use it for talking to people who aren't really there…" he trailed off to give the man time to think, but then frowned and amended, "Well, they are really there, but they're not there, as in they're in another place." Susan shot him a look out of the corner of her eye.

The man looked at each of them in turn. "The crazy house is down the road. Turn right at the train tracks and then right again at the stop sign." And he closed the door in their faces.

"Well," chirped Marcus. "That was helpful. Shall we try the next house?"

Ah, yes. Right. Disclaimer. I don't own Babylon 5. There we are! Yay! Because everyone loves disclaimers!