Endlessly
Babylon 5, Michael/Susan; Whatever their souls were made up of, his and hers were the same


The screams of all those who've gone and died still echo in her head and whenever she closes her eyes she can see Marcus and Talia. She's bruised and damaged beyond repair, and feels like a failure for not saving those she loves. (Loved)

And suddenly she finds herself coming into his room with tear stains on her cheeks and he holds her close and dries her tears and then somehow they end up on the bed. There aren't any words exchanged between them; just her long hair tumbling down her back and his arms holding her to him.

(&)

It's amusing the way he treats her like a fragile doll that will break at any moment. Her, Susan Ivanova, the oncoming storm, and oh yes, God, she once called herself. She likes to toy with him, make him blush and bite down on the side of his cheek. (Who knew Michael could be so timid?) So after one of their dates they head back to his place and Susan nonchalantly asks him to undo the zip of her dress. He takes a brief moment before he walking towards her, and with each step his heart pounds faster and faster. His breath, cool across the back of her neck makes her shiver and yet also makes her body heat up all at once. (Magic)

He drags the zip down slowly, parting the teeth almost one by one, baring each knot of her spine. The dress slides down an inch and she catches it before it can fall to the floor. (It's her best dress, imported from some boutique on Earth)

She says please.

(She usually isn't one for manners)

He obliges.

(Her wish is his command)

(&)

They are sometimes parted and she doesn't like feeling this lonesome, because that means she's vulnerable, and Susan hates being weak.

When they see each other again, Michael kisses her until they both run out of oxygen and then whispers into her ear:

"I missed your face. It's a particularly good one."

(&)

There are nights she dreams of her mother: a vision of beauty singing a lullaby that echoes hauntingly through her head. She winds up screaming and sweating and grasping for the mama that isn't there. But he is: real and not a dream. Somehow he knows what's going on (oh god, please don't let him be a telepath too) and Susan finds herself in Michael's arms and he's singing a lullaby into her ear. If she weren't so tired and still frightened from the nightmare, she'd tell him to stop immediately because lets face it, his voice is terrible sounding.

(And yet, it soothes her into a deep slumber)

(&)

Susan remembers the moment she first met Michael perfectly (she didn't like him one bit); she also remembers, less clearly, the chilling moment when she realized she couldn't live without him.

(How terrifying)

(&)

He was out of his mind and she was in; she was inside him like a pulse, never gone like a heartbeat. Michael had longed for people before, he had loved people before. Not like this. It had never been like this.

(How curious)

(&)

(Whatever their souls were made up of, his and hers were the same)


a/n: My first Babylon 5 fic. Opinions, thoughts, etc. are adored.

I own nothing.