Marcus hurried home. With any luck, Susan would be there, and would be ready to talk. If not, he would just have to wait a little longer. He didn't care anymore how long it took. He just wanted her back.

She was there, wearing a knee-length, clingy black dress. She turned as she saw him come in. Her voice refused to obey at first, and when it finally did, it trembled. "Hi, Marcus." She slipped an earring into her lobe and stepped into her sandals. Her hands shook, and her knees weren't doing any better. She felt like a teenager on her first date.

"Hello, Susan." He searched her face. She looked as if she had done some soul-searching of her own. Maybe she had come to the same conclusions he had: that neither one of them were any good without the other, and that it was high time they sorted out their problems. Or she had at least listened to Rabbi Koslov. That thought filled him with hope. At least she hadn't greeted him in a ratty bathrobe, with a bottle in hand. "This is a pleasant surprise. What's the occasion?"

She turned to face him fully and smiled. "We have a party that we have to go to tonight. I'd forgotten all about it, with everything that's happened, but Delenn sent me a message this morning to remind me." Her voice caught slightly on the words, but she forced herself to say them. "They're expecting us."

The party had been planned some time ago, before Susan had miscarried. It was an informal gathering to celebrate the coming of age of the Drazi ambassador's eldest son. As Captain of the station, as well as an honorary member of the Green Clan, Susan had felt obliged to be there. Marcus slapped a palm against his forehead. He had completely forgotten. "Bugger. When?"

"About five minutes ago." She placed a gentle hand on his arm as he turned and headed for the shower. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes. "Marcus-." She didn't get any further because he bent his mouth to hers, effectively stifling speech, and thought. Feeling was something else entirely, and she felt that kiss in every dormant nerve ending. She slid her hands around his neck, tugging at the hair and pulling him closer.

His heart slammed into his throat and desire lanced through him as she returned his kiss, yielding . . . Oh, God, it had been so long . . . "Do we really have to go?" he rasped.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," she sighed back.

He trailed his lips down to the pulse at the base of her throat. "Can't we be fashionably late?"

"Oh, God, Marcus, don't make it any harder than it is," she sighed.

"Impossible." He drew her closer to let her see for herself.

She moaned, fighting for control. "Marcus. We really . . . have to . . ."

"All right." He pulled away after one last quick kiss. "I'm going."

000

"Susan, Marcus," John greeted them at the door. "We weren't sure if you'd make it with everything . . . I mean . . . Never mind. I'm glad to see you."

Neither of them noticed the President's discomfiture. "It's good to be here," Susan replied, smiling faintly. "Delenn, it's good to see you."

Marcus bowed to the Minbari woman. "Entil'Zha."

"Marcus, Susan, thank you for coming." Delenn smiled at them both as she noticed that the haggard look the Ranger had worn for the last few weeks had been tempered, at least somewhat, although he still looked tense. The Captain looked better as well, as if she'd pulled herself from a long sleep. Delenn was relieved to see it, as she'd been worried about them both.

As Susan moved to greet the Drazi ambassador, Marcus offered his own greetings in the latter's tongue. Susan glanced at him sharply. "I didn't know you spoke Drazi. Will you ever stop surprising me?"

"I hope not," he whispered.

The soft reply trailed like velvet down her nerve endings and settled in her core. Oh, but she knew that voice well. It was a voice filled with seduction and promise. Her heart began to trill a steadily increasing tempo. Alternate emotions of excitement and nervousness bombarded her. She searched his face, and he smiled softly at her. Any remaining fears melted under that warm regard, leaving only anticipation in its wake. She smiled back while the rest of the room fell away, leaving only him. She would have stood there, too, staring at her husband, if someone hadn't jostled her and brought her back to awareness.

The hours passed too slowly for them both. There were countless people to meet, things to discuss, all delaying their full reconciliation. Somehow, they made it through the evening, even though Marcus felt sure he'd die of frustration before it was polite to leave, and Susan wondered where everyone had come from. John constantly pulled her off to meet new people: Alliance dignitaries she hadn't met yet, some of the ambassadors' spouses. Once, when she'd been pulled away, Stephen cornered Marcus.

"You look a lot better than the last time I saw you. You two work things out?"

"Not quite," he answered, distracted. "But we're getting there."

Susan felt his gaze on her, turned, and stifled a moan of suppressed need. His eyes were hot, hungry, sensual, as they moved from her face to her toes, lingering on her curves. Her hand trembled as it clutched the glass of champagne. She knew that it wasn't the drink that turned her legs into rubber or caused the riot of heat between her thighs. She set her glass aside and walked toward him, meeting him halfway across the room.

He held out his arm, and she curled her hand over the firm muscle. Together they sought out their host and hostess and made their excuses. They were in each other's arms before the door to their quarters slid shut, locking out the world. Their mouths met hungrily, brushing, caressing, tasting. Remembering. Susan closed her eyes as Marcus slid his hands up to her throat, stroking the sensitive skin with his thumbs. Her lips parted, and when his tongue swept inside, her own dueled softly with it.

Groaning, he moved his hands to roam possessively over her back, to her buttocks, cupping them softly, pulling her close to nestle against his erection. Desire burned through him. It had been much, much too long since he'd held her. Her fingers threaded in his hair, tugging his mouth closer, but he eluded her, and began to trace her jaw line with hungry lips. One hand found its way to a firm breast and his thumb began to caress the aching peak. "I missed you, Susan," he breathed. "I need you so much."

"I missed you, too, Marcus," she whispered as she rapidly unbuttoned his shirt and eased her hands inside to caress the firm muscles. She'd almost forgotten how good his skin felt. She stroked warm palms over his chest now, smiling at the shudders that racked his lithe body at her touch. She bent her head to explore the hollow of his throat before moving to make tiny circles with her tongue around a flat nipple and then sucking gently. His eyes burned hotly into hers when she raised her head to claim his lips again. The shirt floated to the floor behind him just before he moved his hands underneath her dress.

Unwilling to waste time by moving to the bedroom, he drew her down to the floor and Susan straddled his hips. Desperately, he moved his hands down her back, searching for the zipper as her heat enveloped him. The dress went flying to a corner of the room. He raised himself up on his elbows and caught a dusky nipple in his mouth. He sucked on it gently, then nipped it lightly. Susan moaned long and loud and clutched her hands in his hair before urging him to lie back.

He loved to watch her, loved to see the expressions on her face. Her eyes opened and closed with every new sensation as she rose and fell in time to their ragged breaths. A fine sheen of perspiration covered her, making her body glisten in the soft light. He reached up to caress her breasts, raking his thumbs over the nipples before squeezing them gently. He sat up again to take the left one in his mouth this time. He lapped at it with his tongue before burying his head in the hollow between her breasts. He had missed the scent of her, the taste of her, the feel of her. He lay back again to allow her more freedom of movement.

Oh, God, the feel of him! She'd missed him, but hadn't realized how much until tonight when he was hard and pulsing inside her. She savored every delicious inch of him, could feel every ridge. He filled her completely, perfectly, on every downward stroke. He chanted her name and rose to meet her again and again. As always, his response drove her onward. She closed her eyes, welcoming the rush of blinding heat that began to consume her. There was no measure in her strokes now. She just went on and on, riding the wave, reaching for the peak.

She was close; he could tell by her expressions and the way she was moving frantically. He grabbed her hips to impale her more deeply. He felt her tremble around him, and he lost what little control he had just as she arched her back and cried out, "Oh. Oh, God!" She sagged against him, and he held her tightly.

He felt her sobs even before he heard them. They were deep, anguished sobs that came from the pit of her stomach and racked her whole body. He let her cry. She needed it. She had held so much grief inside for too long now. He whispered soothing words that she couldn't possibly hear, but he said them anyway as he stroked her hair, her back. He planted soft kisses wherever his lips could reach. Finally, she calmed enough to raise her head from his soaked shoulder and look at him.

"You know, sweetheart, it's very bad for my ego if you insist on crying after we make love," he teased her softly.

She smiled, then chuckled softly through her hiccups. "That's one of the things I love about you. You always make me laugh."

"Oh! Even worse. You wound me to the quick." He rolled his eyes in mock despair, but he sobered quickly. "Do you want to talk about it now?"

"Yes," she nodded. "You don't know how much I've been hurting. . ."

"Tell me. I want to know what you've been going through," he whispered, gliding his thumbs across her face to smooth away the remaining tears. "I want to understand."

And so, sitting on his lap, she told him everything. "I was so angry and miserable, and I didn't know what to do. I thought you'd hate me for losing the baby. I know you wouldn't, but I was irrational. I just felt horrible, and miserable, and there was nothing I could do to get out of it. And, every relationship I've had has ended badly, or I've destroyed everyone I've loved. I didn't want to do that to you." She reached up to caress his face, tears glistening in her eyes again. "I'm so sorry for pushing you away, for not sharing our loss with you. I know you've been hurting, too. I realize that now. And I'm sorry for turning away from you when all you wanted to do was comfort me."

"I thought maybe I hadn't been understanding enough. I was hurting because we lost the baby, and because I thought I was losing you, too. I couldn't take that." He pulled her more tightly against him. "It took so long to win your trust, your love. I never want to lose you."

It was her turn to hold him as his own anguish melted away in hot, scalding tears. "Shh. Shh." She caressed his neck and back, rocking slowly back and forth, until he calmed somewhat. When the tears finally abated, they held each other tightly.

"Please don't shut me out again, Susan," he murmured. "You're the only thing that means a damn to me. I want to share every part of your life, good and bad. I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered, kissing away the last of his tears. She stood up and reached for his hands. "Come. Let me show you how much." She paused and arched an eyebrow provocatively. "That is, if you feel up to it."

He leapt to his feet, grabbed her playfully by the waist and nibbled her throat. "I think I just might be."