Characters: OFC, Sheridan, Ivanova, Delenn, Garibaldi, Lennier, Londo, Pestilence, Famine and Death Mollari, Zack, Franklin, OMC.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. I don't get money from it. Sue me and I'll laugh. And hide.
Warnings: AU. Girlishness, bitching and scheming. Oh, and Londo nearly dies.
Summary: Vicki helps Ivanova with Delenn and has an interesting conversation with one of Mollari's wives, and a touching moment with Londo himself. She also realises something unsettling.
Author's Note: I do not think that I can do a better, equal or even passable imitation of The Great Maker Straczynski. This is just for fun.
P.S. I have now developed a close bond with writers block and RL Stress :_( I AM SO SORRY! Still intend to finish this, I swear. And a humongous THANK YOU to all those who've held on and reviewed- I love you all. And The New Vampires' cyber cookies are AWESOME! :P
P.P.S Any thanks should go in equal parts to 90 and her boyf, who gave me much inspiration, terminological assistance and hysterical humour. Plus the unexpected gift of a pet mouse named Fluffles. Unexpected for all of us- their cat brought him to me :S
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Chapter Seven- Soul Mates. May 2259
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LOVELY. A warm, flat, cozy, FLAT bed that smelt like her and a little of her father. Did she mention it was flat?
She loved Minbar, she really did. And the Minbari were wonderful- usually. Some of them were tolerable, like Neroon. Eventually. If you had reason.
Where was she?
Oooohhh yes. The bed.
As much as she liked Minbar, she may never go back. The rest of Minbar and the Minbari were nice and everything- but the beds were just... intolerable.
It was nice being able to sleep without fearing the possibility of catapulting out of bed at night. Which had actually happened a few times...
BREEP
Wrinkling her nose, she considered not answering. If it was her father, he'd understand. If it was Michael, he could go to hell after the welcome she'd received- it had taken her an hour to wash the gunk out of her hair...
If it was Stephen, he wouldn't be calling at this hour. Her Minbari friends never called her privately, G'Kar still wasn't speaking to her for an incident involving an over-excited Narn and a couple of Drazi gamblers and Londo hadn't been both awake at this ungodly hour of the morning and sober enough to navigate a communication console in the entire time she'd known him.
If, however, it was...
BREEP! "Sergeant Lochley-Sheridan!"
Leaping out of the bed- and taking great pleasure in the fact that she could do so without endangering her life- she flew towards the counter where she'd left her Link. "Yes, Commander!"
"I need your help in the Ambassadorial Wing, Delenn's quarters."
"Do I need to bring my PPG?" She asked, one handedly pulling on her trousers.
"No, but if you have a hair dryer and some lilac scented hair conditioner, you could bring that."
Halfway through juggling her shirt on, Vicki froze. "HUH?"
Twenty minutes later, all became clear.
"Delenn, I thought I told you to come to me with any problems like this!" Vicki said in exasperation as she stared at Ivanova, sans jacket, and Delenn, sans everything but a towel, sitting on the Ambassadors' couch fiddling with combs, brushes and other, unidentifiable things (well, raised equal parts on a farm and a spaceship, she'd rarely done anything more complicated with her hair than a plait). "If you'd come to me sooner, it wouldn't be this bad!"
"Well, we'll just have to fix it, that's all." Said Susan sternly, cutting Vicki's tirade short before she could continue.
"I assume you know what to do?"
"Of course. Grab that wave-maker and we'll get to work."
"Repeating myself; Huh?"
Thirty minutes later, Vicki was soaked from helping to condition Delenn's hair... four times... and her own was starting to stick up at interesting angles. Finally they'd gotten the actual tangles out and were just starting to argue over what to do next when Vicki's Link went off.
"Vicki, are you OK? We had a meeting ten minutes ago, you didn't show."
"Sorry Michael, I lost track of time. I can't come into work today, I'm..." Playing hairdresser with the Minbari Ambassador..."I'm handling a very sensitive diplomatic issue with the Minbari." Toggling off, she caught the looks from Delenn and Susan. "What? Not using top strength acids and industrial tools on the train wreck this was an hour ago took a lot of diplomacy on my part!"
Almost another hour later, after having ran Delenn through proper care and maintenance, they had her hair in curlers and were just taking a break. The door slid open.
"Delenn, we have just been..." Lennier trailed off and stared, apparently aghast, at Delenn's new do.
"Hey, Lennier?" Barely managing to take his eyes off his employer, he looked at Vicki. "Would you like a pedicure?"
A brief moment of confusion later and the three women collapsed in hysterics, leaving one very confused Minbari male.
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"Ahh, my good, dear friend, Sergeant Sheridan! I trust you are doing well, yes?" Boomed the corpulent Centauri unexpectedly, causing several revellers to jump.
Smiling widely, Vicki responded, "Oh yes, Londo. Very well." In Centauri she continued, "I offer you great congratulations and salutations on your honourable day. May the Gods see your worth and reveal it to all." She finished her brief display with a formal Centauri bow, making her father squint confusedly and Londo to burst out in joyous laughter.
"Ahh, you do me the honour of attending, my dear friend. And I... Oh, what is it Vir!" He snapped, exasperated as his stuttering aide appeared out of nowhere.
Giggling, she turned to her father, smiling once more. "I have to say, it is nice to be on better terms with him. It's so much more... pleasant... not to have to think of newer and more cutting insults every time I see him."
"I'm sure you could still come up with them, sweetie." Smirked John, who laughed at the suddenly calculating look on her face. She grinned back. Suddenly, she looked over her fathers' shoulder and her grin widened.
"Hey Dad, did Michael happen to mention I was handling diplomatic situation earlier?" John 'hmm'd'. "Would you like to see the result?"
John frowned in confusion. "Result?" Responding to her arched eyebrow and pointed finger, he looked over- to see Ambassador Delenn descending the stairs, her now glistening and coiled tumble of hair a stunning counterpoint to her form-fitting dress.
Laughing at the look on his face, Vicki responded to it with, "I rest my case."
Without looking away from the vision of beauty before him, he said, "I do NOT have a 'crush' on the Minbari Ambassador."
Rolling her eyes, she said, "Hey, I am not the one who is banging his head on an open airlock, OK?" Deciding to leave him and Delenn in peace, she strolled away, mentally planning all of the wonderful ways she could get them together. Spiking her fathers' drink had its perks...
That's when she heard the muted argument. Calmly stopping by the drinks, refilling her cup, she listened quietly to the two younger Centauri women who claimed positions as Londo's wives.
"It goes beyond monetary gains, Daggair!"
"Oh, what else is there Mariel? You just don't want to lose you comfortable place- I don't blame you! I feel the same way..."
"It's more than that Daggair! I will not let that pathetic man slither out of my grasp just as he's getting useful! I did not endure his drunken fumbling for years just so that he can drop me like trash now that he's got powerful allies. His contacts... these 'associates'... have given him what he wants, and I will NOT walk away from the chance to solidify my own connection to them! Do not get in my way, you miserable worn out cheap dancing whore, or I swear by the Gods whose ranks I will one day join, I will make you pay. I will NOT let anything get between me and Londo's contacts, not you and certainly not HIM."
She strode away from her confused companion, and right past Victoria, who tried not to let her concern show. It looked like she and her newly befriended Londo needed to have a little chat...
Just as she walked towards him, she saw that the presents were being given. Slowly making her way through the crowd, she resolved not to leave Londo's side until she'd told him what she'd heard. That psycho could be intending to hurt him and she'd be damned if she let it happen on HER station...
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"GODDAMNIT!" Slamming her hand into a wall, she ended her curse with a growl. Her father, watching from his desk, winced, sensing her knuckles migrating slightly as his daughter tried to pulverise the wall.
Speaking evenly, he soothed, "Maybe you should sit down. Before you break something."
"Don't fret Dad, your wall is fine."
"I was talking about your hand. I know I heard a crack." Pouting at him, she slumped down onto his office couch with a huff. Crossing her arms, she glared at the wall. Silent for a moment, John continued, "Maybe you'd feel better if you went down to the MedBay and saw him. Maybe you could even help Stephen and the others."
"Dad, I am not a qualified Doctor- I'd just get in the way."
He didn't bother to respond for a moment, waiting for her super-sped brain to catch up.
"Ah screw it." She snapped, jumping to her feet and striding out. "I'm twice as qualified as anyone there except Stephen, THEY need to get out of MY way!"
Fifteen minutes later, she strides into the MedBay. Looking around, she spotted Stephen and Doctor Hobbs standing with Professor Dorothy Barrett, the sector's leading expert in the fields of poison control and infectious diseases. She made haste towards the group huddled around the gurney.
"... it's the only explanation. You'll need to confirm the origin of the artefact." Finished Professor Barrett.
"This still doesn't help him, we don't have enough donor blood-" stated Stephen, before Vicki interrupted.
"Donor blood? Why do you need donor blood?" She struggled to control the pitch of her voice.
Sighing, he replied, "It's bad Vicki. The poison's turning his blood to acid. He needs a full blood transfusion or he'll die- but we don't have enough matching blood in the banks, and as you know-"
"Synthetic blood's never been successful with Centauri." She finished, ashen faced.
"We're going through the Centauri medical files, seeing if there are any registered donors with the necessary blood type on the station, but so far, no luck." Stated Hobbs calmly. "We'll just have to keep going. If we don't..."
"Londo has maybe a few days." Stephen bluntly concluded. "No more. And maybe... not even that."
As the Doctors and the Professor excused themselves, Vicki, her eyes bright with unshed tears, walked towards the window screen. Inside, the literally poisonous little Mariel, ever the actress, sadly glided away, the picture of grief and misery. Daggair conspiratorially whispers to Timov, who snaps back in her usual manner. As the scheming noblewoman left, Vicki stepped in quietly, coming to stand at Londo's bedside.
"It's odd." Remarked Timov in quiet Centauri. "Of all those at his Ascension celebrations... all those who seek his friendship now... and we are the only two to be here. The wife who can't stand him... and the Sergeant who can't trust him."
"But that's the thing, Lady Timov... I have begun to trust him." She murmured. After a moment's consideration, she amended, "To some degree, anyway. And... I think I even truly care about him. I don't want him to die."
Timov looked at her, sympathy warring with her genteel Centauri dislike of true emotion, then she bowed her head and left. Looking down sadly at Londo's still, silent and distressingly empty face, she said, "You hear me Londo? I don't want you to die, and you're on MY station, that means you do what I want. And you do it when I want it. And I want you to get well."
Silence.
"Please, Londo."
More silence.
Broken only by the sounds of two tears falling onto the bed-sheet.
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"Has an answer for everything, doesn't he?"
"Yep. 'I didn't know it was dangerous', 'all I did was wipe it off and sell it', 'I'm so innocent'- smarmy liar."
"Bastard should fry for what he did."
"Whoa, Vicki, keep on like that you'll start sounding like the Chief."
"Why, what did Stoner do to Michael?"
"What I hear, he married Miss Winters. Chief's all bent up about it. You know the thing he's got for her."
"When did they get married?"
"Oh, years ago, it was one of those Psi Corps genetic matches things you hear about. It ended- somehow. Now he's no longer Corps."
Beat. "How the hell is THAT possible?"
"I don't know, but that's what Talia told your Dad.
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Vicki stepped into her quarters, frowning. Talia had been unusually brusque, if not downright rude when she'd asked about Stoner. She'd basically snapped that it wasn't her business. Most unlike her.
She walked to her console, deeply concentrating. Coming to a decision, she ordered the computer to open a comm channel to her contact. If anyone could help her with this it would be...
Adam's stunningly gorgeous face appeared on the screen. Frowning. How odd.
"Sergeant Lochley-Sheridan, what do you want? I happen to be very busy."
Taken aback, and more than a little upset by his tone, she replied, "I need your help with an individual named..."
"A rogue?" He butted in rudely, not even looking at her.
"No. Apparently he's legitimately no longer Corps."
"What do you mean 'no longer'?" He snapped.
Trying to stop her temper from rising to the challenge in his voice, she responded evenly. "I mean; he was Corps. Now he isn't. And it's somehow legit."
"Not possible." He stated clearly. "No-one leaves the Psi Corps, one way or the other. Once your Corps," and now he did look at her, a look that pierced her soul, "You're Corps for life."
As he signed off without another word, the feeling of victory at retrieving the answer to her question warred with her fear of what the double entendre she sensed could mean.
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As Michael gleefully led Stoner away, all but rubbing his hands with sadistic joy, Vicki surreptitiously waved her father over.
Summing up the finer points of her conversation with Adam, she went on to explain that her other EFSI colleagues, year mates and friends had written to her of problems they faced. Sudden unemployment, evictions, legal problems- it hadn't occurred to her until she spoke to Adam, but...
"You think Clark's targeting them?" He concluded quietly.
"Yes!" She stated emphatically. "He wants power, and they- and I- are on the list of people who can stop him. It's a long list, I'll grant you, and I have no delusions that we're near the top, but still... They're in danger."
"OK." He responded, thinking hard. "What do we do?"
And to that, she had no response.
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As the door swung open, she smiled at the once-again effervescent Ambassador. "You're recovered, I take it? Or did Stephen kick you out?"
Giggling, Londo retorted, "No, the sight of you plotting with Timov did. I didn't want to be anywhere near THAT!"
Laughing with him, she sighed, trying not to let him see how relieved she was. Smirking to cover it up, she said, "So, which did you go with?"
"You mean my wives?" He confirmed. "Timov."
"Really!" Spluttered Vicki.
"Surprised?"
"Yes! That's the most rational decision possible- I never expected it of you!"
Laughing, he replied, "Well, she and I may hate each other, but at least we're honest about it. Would you like a drink, perhaps, to celebrate my good health?"
"Ahh, yes, that I can drink to. On one condition!" She suddenly straightened up sternly, eliciting a look of apprehension from him. "You must NEVER do that to me again! You die on my station, and I'll report you for it. And then I'll kill you for putting me through the paperwork."
As they both laughed, he passed her the glass, and they each raised their drinks, croaking 'Val-too' in between chuckles. Downing the draught in typical Centauri fashion, they each hummed in appreciation. Just as the last dregs slipped down their throats, Vicki frowned mildly, as if in thought.
"Hey, Londo? I think we both forgot something." Putting down the glass, she looked at him with rapidly unfocussing eyes. "I don't like brevari." And then she collapsed.
"Whoops." Murmured Londo, looking at the prone Sergeant.