Chapter Three

The day was just as nice when Lennier, Ivanova, and Delenn stepped outside as it had been when Lennier first woke up. Grey, rainy, and rather cold, the weather looked locked in for the day. Nevertheless, they trooped onward, and none complained. Of course, the only one who really could complain was Delenn, and since when did she complain?

Ivanova led them to the small glen on the edge of the property, and then to the formal gardens, which were normally packed with tourists. Today, there were only a few, and they were easy to avoid by picking a careful route behind the towering hedges. After about half an hour, Lennier decided that any more could be detrimental to their health.

"Perhaps we should return," he suggested. He himself wasn't that bad, and if Ivanova was feeling the wet, she wasn't showing it. Delenn, though she held herself straight and tall as usual, was shivering. Ivanova nodded, and they turned back toward the residence. Lennier took off his jacket and offered it to Delenn, knowing the inside of it was still dry and warm from his own heat.

"I'm fine," she said, handing it back to him.

"You're freezing," Ivanova spoke up.

"We're almost back," Delenn stated. Her arms came part way up as if to wrap around her body for warmth, but then she caught herself and they fell back to her sides.

Ivanova also noticed the movement and put her own arm around Delenn. "It's my fault we came out here," she explained, looking faintly embarrassed by the rather un-Ivanova-like behaviour. "If you get sick, it's also my fault."

Delenn pushed the arm away, leaving Ivanova gaping and Lennier trying not to look utterly stunned. "I'm fine!" she snapped, then took a deep breath, "Thank you for your concern. About this, and about everything else. But I'm fine." And she picked up her pace and strode away.

Ivanova and Lennier looked at each other. "That went well," Ivanova commented sarcastically, but in her eyes was a hurt expression. He watched Delenn's retreating form and nodded. "I'll go after her—"

"No," he said firmly. "It is probably better to let her be alone."

"For how long?" Ivanova demanded. Lennier turned his gaze on her.

"Give her two days," he suggested. That would be enough time for the memory of this incident to fade at least a little. Suddenly, he remembered Ivanova's diary. "You left your di—book in my apartment last night," he told her.

"That's where it was!" she exclaimed, seeming just as glad of a change of topic as he was. "I thought I'd lost it in my own place."

"I'll give it back to you," he said, and they proceeded to his loaned rooms.

He fetched it and handed it to her, enjoying seeing her face light up with relief as she got it back. "Thanks," she said sincerely. "I have to get going; I have a meeting in a few minutes, but do you want to have dinner tonight? I found this really nice place in town."

"That sounds wonderful," he agreed readily. Food from any source was always a good thing.

"Nineteen hundred hours alright?" she asked.

"Yes," he smiled.

"Great! Well, I'm off. See you then!" she turned, took two steps, remembered to bow and did so a little awkwardly, and then was on her way again. He watched her go for lack of anything else to do until his attention was drawn to the opposite end of the hallway by a small voice chattering away in a language that sounded very familiar. He listened more closely. Yes, it was Vree, the same dialect that he'd become familiar with several years before. He was amazed he could understand any of it anymore, but sure enough, as the voices got closer, he picked out words and phrases.

The speakers rounded the corner, and he identified one as Anann. The Vree female with her he didn't know, but they parted ways and Anann continued along by herself.

"Good morning," he greeted her in her own language, knowing his accent was terrible. She stopped, looking startled, and it took her a moment to locate the speaker.

"You know my language?" she asked, incredulous.

"Only some," he replied honestly, "And even that is not very good."

"It sounds fine to me," she said, smiling brightly. "Can I come in?" She seemed to remember herself and bowed an apology. "I'm sorry. Delenn says I should wait to be invited."

"Then consider yourself invited," he said. She followed him into the interior of his apartment and he offered her a chair. She sat, and he joined her. "I'm afraid I don't have much in the way of food," he said.

"That's okay," she said, "I'm not hungry." Her eyes roamed the room. "Where's all your things? This is just how it always looks."

"My…" he searched for a word for a moment, "my suitcase is in the bedroom. My other belongings are on my ship."

Her mouth opened in awe. "You have a star ship? Can I see it? I love star ships!"

He smiled, amused by her enthusiasm. "Certainly," he said, "but it is not much."

"Now?" she asked eagerly.

"Alright," he said, pushing himself out of the chair and heading for the door. As they walked, he observed her. Her reaction to the outdoors and the city was that of a visitor, staring around wide-eyed at everything. He wondered when she'd come here.

She was small, only around twelve standard years but short for her age. Her eyes were brown and her features common, though there was a scar on her cheek. Her headbone was like that of any other child, rounded and simple, but it was already gaining its distinctive female traits: the delicate ridges and valleys sloping into a gentle point. She was, in all appearances, a perfectly ordinary girl.

They arrived at the civilian docking bays within a few minutes, and Lennier took her on board.

"This is Maria," he told her, giving a smile, "She's ticklish."

"Ticklish?" Anann echoed, looking at him as if he was crazy.

"Watch," he said, going to one of Maria's sensitive spots and running his hand over it. The wall shrank away and the ship rocked subtly. Anann looked awestruck.

"Can I try?" she asked. He nodded.

"Just touch here," he said, pointing. She moved over, standing on tip-toes to reach, and giggled in delight as she elicited the same reaction.

"None of Delenn's ships are ticklish," she said. "I like this one. What's it called?"

"She," he corrected, no longer feeling silly calling Maria a female. She most certainly was one, at least in the personality sense of the word. "Her name is Maria. Maria, meet Anann. Anann, Maria."

"Welcome on board," said Maria. He smiled, proud of the personality matrixes he'd installed. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Anann." She was even speaking the Vree dialect, though that wasn't his doing. She'd come programmed with a database of all known languages, a feature that had cost him an extra five hundred credits.

"Um, a pleasure to meet you too," Anann said, looking a little unsure but grinning nonetheless.

"I'll show you the rest, if you want," he offered. "Please forgive me, it's not particularly clean."

"That's okay," Anann said acceptingly, and followed him up the ladders and into the rooms of each deck. Finally, they came to the bridge, where he showed her the different workstations and their functions, and let her sit in the captain's/pilot's chair. "Mr. Lennier?" she asked almost shyly, still seated in the raised chair. He looked up from where he was putting some samples of quartz-rich ore away. "What's wrong with Delenn? And where did John go?"

"Delenn is…" he started, "What did she tell you?"

"She said that John went away on a diplomatic mission," Anann said, her voice quiet. "For a very long time. But he's dead, isn't he?"

Lennier approached the child and perched on the railing of the workstation next to her. "Yes," he said. Anann bit her lip as she visibly struggled with tears.

"She probably didn't tell me," she said, "because she thought I couldn't handle losing someone else. She's so kind to me…" she shook her head and wiped her eyes. "And she's sad too, isn't she? That's why she's been acting weird?"

"Yes," he said. It was strange to be explaining to this a child, but in a way it felt good to just talk about it. "She loved him very much and it's been hard on her."

"Will she get better?" Anann asked.

"I hope so," he said honestly. "Speaking of her," he changed the subject before he himself was fighting tears too, "is it okay with her if you're here?"

"Oh, she went for a walk with her friend Susan," Anann replied, fiddling with a loose piece of fabric on the chair. "It's okay."

Lennier froze. Was she talking about the walk they'd all gone on, and that Delenn had returned from almost an hour before? But Anann had been there when they'd decided to go, she'd seen him go with them. But perhaps she hadn't understood… and then he remembered they'd be speaking Interlac.

"Let's go back," he said. Anann looked up, confused and disappointed.

"Already?" she questioned.

"She has probably returned," he reasoned with her, "She might be worried."

"Okay," Anann agreed reluctantly and allowed Lennier to lead her out of the ship. On the boarding ramp, she stopped. "Bye, Maria! It was nice to meet you!"

Their pace was quick but not exceedingly so as they made their way back to the Alliance headquarters. The weather had cleared somewhat, the clouds were no longer so dark and it no longer rained, but it was still cold. The surly receptionist didn't question him as he walked past, Anann beside him, and he couldn't help internally gloating a little.

When the door to their destination opened, Delenn stood before them. "Yes, Lennier?" she asked, tone as close to hostile as he could recall ever having been spoken to by her in. He flinched imperceptibly, but then she caught sight of his companion. "Oh, Anann! Where were you?"

"Mr. Lennier was showing me his ship," she replied, and then realized her mistake, switched to Adronato, and said, "Mr. Lennier me ship showed." Lennier himself was impressed by how well she was doing with the language, even if everything she said didn't make much sense. She knew the vocabulary, it was just the grammar she was struggling with, which was perfectly understandable as she was young and the language was difficult.

Delenn's face and tone softened, "Did you thank him?"

"Thank you," Anann said dutifully. "Can I come aga—" she shook her head and snapped her mouth shut, but looked at him hopefully.

"Would you like to come back another time?" he asked in Vree.

She nodded vigorously, "Very much!"

"She would like to go again another time," he translated for Delenn, who regarded him with surprise.

"Of course," she said, and began to say something further, but Anann, not seeing her caretaker about to continue, piped up.

"Mr. Lennier for lunch stay?" she asked. Delenn looked hesitant, still resentful over this morning's dispute.

"Yes," she said finally, and then added, "Remember the direct and indirect objects come after the verb."

"I'm sorry," Anann said, switching to Vree without noticing, "But it's so hard to remember. Plus, Mr. Lennier knows Vree! We were speaking it all morning together."

"And you are speaking it now," he informed her gently. "Don't worry, I will translate for you." He addressed Delenn in her language, "She says that she is sorry, but it is all so hard to remember. Also, she says that because I know Vree, we were speaking it all morning, which has gotten her out of the habit of Adronato." So he'd added the end bit in. It had been implied, sort of. It would help to explain away some of Anann's repeated grammatical slips, anyhow.

Delenn nodded and motioned for the two of them to come in. The living room was messier than it was when he'd first arrived yesterday. There were papers on every surface, including the floor, and they didn't stop at the doors. From where he stood, he could see some off in an adjoining room, and as they proceeded inwards, on the dining room table. He hoped they weren't all related to Sheridan's memorial.


Lunch was a painfully tacit ordeal. Anann sat silently after several attempts to start conversation, sensing something jarring in the two adults' auras. Delenn avoided eye contact with Lennier as if it carried a disease, a tactic he'd thought she was rather above. Finally, she broke the quiet with a question.

"Where did you learn Vree?" she asked, picking slowly over her fresh vegetables.

Lennier cleared his throat, uncomfortable even though he'd had plenty of time to think of responses. Characteristically, he threw away all the fabrications he'd come up with and gave her the truth, shameful as it would be for him, and wished he would get off easy. "Several years ago, I worked with a Vree world," he said, and then shut the rest away, praying she wouldn't ask about it.

"Doing what?" she inquired. Well. So much for getting off easy.

"Bounty hunting," he said briskly, watching closely for her reaction. She looked up at him, shock registering on her features. He had no justifications for the disgusting work he'd done at that time, and so he offered none.

"Bounty hunting?" she echoed, as if she was verifying that that had been, in fact, what he'd said.

"Yes," he replied evenly.

"Why?" she asked, setting down her utensils.

"Because I had no money and they offered enough for each job to buy me fuel and supplies for months," he said simply. "Not everyone always has the option to do honest work."

Anann stood up to take the dishes away to the kitchen and did not return.

"And I suppose you think I don't know that," she replied, tone cold now that the youngster was gone.

"Don't you?" he returned.

"When my father died—" she began.

"When your father died you were Dukhat's replacement," he interrupted. "And please tell me: when while you were serving with the Council did you have to earn dirty money to survive?"

Her eyes glared at him like green steel. "Why are you berating me for this? I'm the one who has never killed for money, not you. Why am I being scolded for that?"

"You've never killed for money but you've killed," he pointed out. In his mind, he was already yelling at himself for his cruelty, but deep-rooted shame over what he'd done made him offensive and now that he'd started he couldn't stop. "At least in my case, someone got something good out of it. So which one of us is truly better?"

"Am I receiving a lesson in morality from a bounty hunter?" she inquired venomously.

Lennier stood abruptly. "I know you are upset about Sheridan and I know your emotions are not as calm or controlled as they normally are, but those are not reasons to be so angry with me. Or Ivanova for that matter. We are your friends, Delenn. We are trying to help you. If this is how you're going to thank me, so be it. I'm not going to leave you."

And, that final sentiment delivered, he did precisely that. He walked out her door and went straight for home: Maria.