ooOoo

Swing For Yourself, John

ooOoo

'...So, I said to him, "If you bring that cat anywhere near me again, I'll have you both up on charges." '

I laughed. 'That's good. That is a good one. If it had been left up to me I would have skinned the damn thing.' We'd fallen into the trap that all soldiers or former soldiers do in the end - swapping stories and trying to tell the best one. Sometimes I'd even forgotten that the man I was talking to could have been my twin brother, if I'd had one. But sometimes it was pretty hard to ignore and I watched him and listened to him and figured that if we really were as alike as everybody else seemed to think we were then I must cut a pretty impressive figure.

And I guess I couldn't really blame him for having his head turned a little by Della - she has that effect on a lot of guys. She doesn't try to, it just sort of happens. His fascination with her had probably been about the same as mine with Delenn had been - it's pretty hard to see another version of someone you're that close to without feeling something for them. But once the novelty factor had worn off, I guess we were all pretty glad to settle back where we were supposed to be.

At least, with whom we were supposed to be; Della and I were about as far from home as you can get.

I stubbed out my cigarette. 'You're not going to have a saucer left in this place,' I said.

'Yeah.' Sheridan looked at the mess of ash with distaste and then shrugged. 'I think I'll have to have them fumigated; or maybe just space 'em - it'll be easier that way.'

I sat back on the couch. 'You know, that reminds me of a time back a few years ago: I was stationed at a base in England and me and some buddies went into a, uh, what do they call them over there... Pub. We went into this pub and there's this guy behind the bar and...'

Like I said, we were two soldiers and it was a soldier's kind of story; nothing dirty or offensive but I try to be a gentleman in mixed company - let's just leave it at that. Anyhow, it went down a treat and we were both laughing over it; we were still laughing over it when I felt something bump against my knee. I looked down and found Archie gazing back up at me; he sneezed and glanced over his shoulder. Della had opened the door again and she stood looking down at the pair of us, bemused.

'How long was I in there?' she murmured.

'Only about three days,' I told her.

Della rolled her eyes at me, pushed herself away from the doorframe and started plumping up the cushions and straightening things the way that women always do whenever two or more innocent males have been sitting around minding their own business. 'I think I preferred it when you two weren't getting along.'

I glanced at Sheridan, he glanced back and I put my eyebrows up. 'Not get along? Us? You've been imagining things.'

She chose to ignore that; Della tweaked at her skirt. 'What time is it?' She was looking at her watch as she asked - one of those cocktail jobs with a face so small the only way she can read it is to hold it about an inch away from her nose and squint at it. But she looks sweet while she does it so I leant back and enjoyed the view for a moment and then checked my watch and said,

'It's nearly eight.'

'Oh, then Delenn should be here soon. I'm quite looking forward to this - I've never been out to dinner with an extraterrestrial before.'

'We have some pretty good restaurants here,' Sheridan said.

Della sat near to me, perching on the arm of the couch. Archie leapt up onto the cushion and inched across until he had his head in her lap. She gave the captain one of her more charming smiles and tilted her head at him. 'Delenn mentioned somewhere called Downbelow? It sounds like just the place.'

'Downbelow?' He got that slightly stricken look that never bodes well.

'Yes.'

'Why,' I asked, 'what's wrong with it?'

The man looked uneasy, shifting a little in his chair. His eyes went to Della and then to me. 'Well... If you stay in the main, more populated areas, it's fine. It can just get a little rough down there.'

Della smiled serenely. 'I can look after myself, Captain.'

'I'm sure you can...' His hands spread for a moment then came together, his fingers linking. 'Maybe you should try the Fresh Aire; it's the best restaurant we have here.'

'Really.'

'Yes - the food's great, it's got a nice atmosphere...'

He'd gone wrong and I would have told him so but sometimes when a man is bent on hanging himself there's not much you can do except stand back and watch him lay out the rope.

Della's eyes had stopped sparkling and started glinting - like polished steel. 'Do I strike you as being a stupid woman?'

He started some and looked at her. 'I'm sorry?'

'I asked if I appear to you to be a stupid woman.'

'No; no, of course not-'

'I see. That's quite a relief. For a moment there I thought that you were under the impression that I lacked the good sense or judgement not to get myself into trouble as soon as I'm ... let loose?'

He let out a breath. 'That is not what I meant; all I-' His thumb ran along his forefinger a few times; that reminded me of someone and I couldn't think who. 'It just might not be a good idea for you to go to Downbelow without ... an ... escort.'

Della's voice dripped honey. 'What would you have? Us sitting in the corner wearing white gloves, with our ankles crossed, under the watchful eye of a chaperone?'

Sheridan's face was starting to get a tight, white look. You might wonder why I didn't step into the party and there are two reasons for that: first, I've tried these arguments with Della - they don't work; second, I thought that his having a domestic dispute with her would be good practice for when he got himself sorted out with Delenn.

I'm thoughtful that way.

'Mrs Sher- Della. You're new here-'

'Yes, I am.' She was rigid, her chin lifted. 'But Delenn isn't and neither is Susan - forgive me, Commander Ivanova; or is it their judgement of which you obviously have so low an opinion?'

His lips pursed. He glanced at me and I shrugged slightly. Whatever he was going to say to that he kept to himself - probably wisely; instead he looked her over for a moment and then said, 'No. I'm sorry.' He took a breath. 'But I'd leave the jewellery behind, if I were you.'

The storm had passed. Della's hand went to the rope of diamonds at her throat. 'Oh... Oh, all right.' The necklace went and so did the bracelet, but she left the clips on her dress and her earrings. I fidgeted. We're not joined at the hip; there are plenty of evenings where she'll go her way and I'll go mine. That doesn't mean that I don't worry about her.

'I hope you'll leave the place in one piece,' I said, 'I think they've got enough on their plates without you raising cain.'

'Oh, for heaven's-' Her lips pushed out and then in again. She addressed herself to Sheridan: 'I have never raised cain in my life.' That is not entirely true but it isn't a good idea to accuse a lady of being liar, especially when you're in company and especially when you are married to the aforementioned lady. She can take it out on you in other ways. 'Besides,' Della added, 'it's not as though Maya is with us.'

'Oh yeah - that way everybody should keep their clothes on.'

'Once - she did that once.'

There was a sudden noise in the air that kept us from getting any further - a musical, mechanical note like someone playing a tune. Archie barked at it; Della and I looked around; Sheridan stood up and looked like he was trying not to laugh at us.

'It's the door-chime,' he said, and crossed the room to answer it.

In New York City we could consider ourselves pretty sophisticated; in a suite of rooms on a space station we were thrown by a doorbell ringing. We were like two country mice to his city slicker.

Archie did what dogs do and trotted after him - I think he sees every open door as some sort of personal challenge. Delenn was in the corridor with two Garibaldis. Mike grinned in at us.

'Look who we found wandering the corridors - we figured we better scoop her up and bring her along.'

That's what he likes to think of as charming banter and nothing is going to break him of the habit. Delenn just looked vaguely amused and stepped through the doorway. Archie was still playing at being the welcoming committee but he managed not to mount an assault on her again. He stood and wagged his tail politely and she stared down at him gravely.

'Hello, Archie.' Then she looked up and smiled at the captain. 'Hello, John.'

'Delenn.'

They stood looking at each other for a moment and for that moment I wondered if she remembered who it was she was supposed to be having dinner with. Luckily for her, Mike was there to remind us. He clapped his hands together.

'So, you girls all ready for the big night out?'

'Yes,' Della slid off the arm, 'let me just get my purse...' She vanished again but was back a few seconds later; she'd apparently taken Sheridan's advice to heart and had left her wrap behind, too. 'All right. Delenn, are you ready to go?'

Delenn inclined her head. 'Yes. I had a message from Susan - she will meet us at the Zocalo.'

They made for quite a sight standing next to each other. Della had a couple of inches on the ambassador; at least, her heels gave her a couple of inches. I guess they were about the same height in their stockinged feet. Delenn had pinned her hair up, just a few fine curls left to frame her face. Mike had a point - with the crest she really did look like someone had crowned her Miss America. Or maybe Miss Minbar would be more appropriate. I thought it was a good thing that she and Sheridan didn't share an office because if they had with her wafting around looking the way she did he never would have got any work done. (I know what I'm talking about - it would be a bit like the times Della drops by the office if I'm working late. Sometimes she tries to distract me and sometimes she doesn't, but even when she doesn't she still does.) That evening Delenn was wearing the same sort of flowing silk number she'd had on earlier but this time in crimson and gold and she looked a knockout. Della, in a sort of green-grey and without her diamonds, was more understated but no less decorative. Or maybe I'm just biased.

Della fished Archie's leash out of her purse and crouched down to fix it on his collar.

'You think that's a good idea, plaything?'

She looked up at me, eyebrows raised. 'Do you want him in here with you?'

Mike plucked at my elbow urgently and I thought about the last time that Archie had been holed up with us during a poker party. 'Who, me? I haven't said a word.'

'Hm, that's what I thought. Anyway, I'll be able to get you something to eat, won't I?' She ruffled his ears and straightened. 'So. We'll leave you to it, shall we?'

'Actually,' Sheridan said, 'I thought it might be better if we move this down to my quarters - about the only thing on offer here is water, I'm afraid.'

Mike wrinkled his nose. 'Water?'

'Yeah, water,' I said, 'it's a mixer - you've had it in Scotch.'

He grinned at me. 'Gotcha. Brother, I could go for a slug of that right about now.'

We'd filed out into the corridor and shifted about so that we'd all fit into it. Everywhere I looked I was seeing double except for when I looked at Sheridan and then it was like I was looking in a mirror. He was leading the way and said over his shoulder to Mike, 'I should have a bottle of Scotch somewhere.'

Mike looked relieved. 'Thank God. You know, so far all I could make out was that you boys don't smoke, you don't drink and you don't chase women. I was starting to wonder if you were actually Human.'

'You ought not be so judgemental,' Della told him; she had ended up walking next to him in our two-by-two crocodile and I craned my neck back to look at them.

'I'm not,' he said, all mock innocence. 'I'm the broadminded type.'

'Hmm.' Della didn't look convinced and I couldn't blame her.

'I am. I'm even sensitive. I turn my hand to the fine, expressive arts - like poetry.'

Her eyebrows arched. 'Poetry?'

'Yeah, sure; I mean - how hard can it be?' Mike put his arm around her shoulders and gestured expressively with his other hand. 'Della Ramir, Della Ramir; with hair so dark and eyes so clear-'

She was aghast. 'Is that the best you can do?'

'Well, I couldn't think of anything that rhymed with Susan Ivanova.'

Della narrowed her eyes at him. 'Since when did you carry a torch for Susan?'

'I don't. I mean, I don't for our Susan. See?'

'I see...'

He grinned at her. 'What do you think?'

She was sceptical - for which I also couldn't blame her. 'I think that she'll eat you for breakfast.'

'Yeah, but I think he'll enjoy that,' I told her.

Mike glowered at me. 'Skip it, will ya? Listen, Della, put in a good word for me, huh?'

She put her eyebrows up at him.

'I'll give you five bucks.' He'd let go of her and actually had his wallet out and peeled off a greenback.

Her chin lifted, cheeks sucking in slightly. 'You want me to act as your... Well, something not very nice?'

He peeled off another note. 'Ten bucks?'

'You're a heel.'

She took the money, though.

We'd taken some turns and finally reached another door that looked exactly every other door in a corridor that was a replica of the one we'd left. I wondered how anyone managed to find their way anywhere but you can get used to pretty much anything after a while, I guess.

'Here we are,' Sheridan said.

'I hope you all behave yourselves,' Della stated and gave us the same sort of look that my old drill sergeant used to use back in the training barracks just before lights out. She tilted her head and looked at me speculatively. 'I'm almost tempted to stay on - I'd be interested to hear how you talk about me behind my back.'

I smiled at her. 'Walk in front of me sometime and I'll try to think of something.'

She rolled her eyes and stalked across to Delenn, putting her hand just under the ambassador's elbow. 'Come on - it's just downhill from here on in with this lot.'

Delenn inclined her head. 'I hope that you have a pleasant evening.'

It was addressed to all of us, I think, but Sheridan was the designated spokesman. 'You too. And, uh, take care.' She looked at him reproachfully; some guys just never learn.

They both started off down the corridor; they'd gone a little way when Della looked back at me over her shoulder.

'Well? Thought of anything yet?'

I'd thought of plenty but they weren't the kind of things a guy wants to say to his girl in the middle of a corridor with an audience giving them the eye. I put my hands in my pockets and gave her a lazy smile. 'I'll tell you later.'

Her lips curved and then she turned back, followed Delenn towards where I guessed the elevators were. Two dark heads gleaming under the strip lighting; they both had the same graceful sway when they walked.

'I hope they'll be okay.' I hadn't even realised that I'd said it out loud until I heard Mike.

'It'll be fine. Della can take care of herself.' He held out a hand to me, turned palm up. 'Remember that time at Sardi's?'

I blew out a breath. 'Yeah, I remember; it's not like I'd forget.'

'Whoa.' Garibaldi stared at both of us. 'Sardi's? You mean the restaurant Sardi's?'

We exchanged a glance. I shrugged. Mike said, 'It's the only one I know.'

Garibaldi gave a soft, low whistle; his eyes had a glazed look. 'Man. I always wanted to see that place...'

Sheridan had got his door open and took up the slack on the conversation end. 'What did happen there?'

'Some drunk put his hands on Della,' Mike said, 'and he wouldn't shake loose 'cos he thought she was Gene Tierney, see? Anyhow, she got herself loose by putting her cigarette out on the back of his hand. Of course, that might have been the end of it but then Captain America over here-' he jerked his thumb at me '-had to step in.'

I glared at him; he grinned back at me. 'Just go inside, will you?'

He stuck his hands in his pockets and sauntered through the doorway. I wasn't worried about Della anymore. I was worried about how we'd make it through the evening without a murder being committed.

ooOoo

'I suppose that this is the sort of place that you'd call a dive,' Susan said, looking around the interior of the restaurant.

'Oh no,' Della replied, 'this is what would be termed a joint: a dive is much more declassé; you know,' her nose wrinkled a little, 'the sort of place that has sawdust on the floor.'

'Sounds charming.'

'You'd think so, wouldn't you?' Della replied vaguely. 'Do we wait to be seated?'

Only if you wanted to wait for a very long time, Susan thought. 'No, you just grab a table and-'

No further encouragement was needed: Della picked her way through the tables, Delenn following. They attracted plenty of admiring glances as they passed - but if anyone noticed the startling resemblance between the Minbari and her Human companion, Susan couldn't tell. Even so, she was relieved that there was no-one in there that she knew; she wasn't in the mood for yet more explanations. Susan threaded through the seated crowd - receiving admiring glances of her own - and joined the two women.

The two women and Archie, she amended.

When Della had wafted into view up on the Zocalo, it had taken Susan some moments to realise that she was serious about taking the dog with them.

'He's been everywhere from the Waldorf Astoria on down,' Della had told her by way of explanation. And what was good enough for the Waldorf... Archie had added his own arguments by sitting back on his haunches and bobbing his front paws up and down, his bright round eyes fixed on Susan's face.

Della tied one end of his leash to her chair and he settled happily at her feet.

'Ah, Commander, so good to see you again.' She looked up at the voice and smiled back at the round face that greeted her. Carlo was a rotund little man but capable of surprising speed; his hands moved with the fluidity of a maestro's when he spoke. 'And your charming friends...' He trailed off, his gaze moving from one face to the other.

'Hello, Carlo; it's nice to see you, too.'

He shook himself and turned his gaze back to Susan with an effort. 'What can I get for you tonight? We have some wonderful specials.'

'Well, it's never a good idea to eat on an empty stomach,' Della said. 'I think we should have some drinks first.'

Carlo beamed at her. 'Of course; what would you like?'

'Could I have a dry Martini?'

'Certainly - gin or vodka?'

Della shuddered. 'Gin. Thank-you.'

'I, uh...' Susan paused. 'I think I'll have the same - I haven't had a Martini in years.'

Carlo nodded approvingly, turned his attention on Delenn. She looked at him uncertainly.

'I...' What was it that John had ordered for her at the Fresh Aire? She couldn't remember; she had been too busy concentrating on other things.

'How about some fizzy lemonade?' Susan suggested. 'It's festive, at least.'

'And we squeeze it fresh everyday from lemons from the hydroponicum.' One plump hand emphasised the point.

Delenn looked relieved. 'Yes, thank-you.'

Carlo smiled at them again, retreated to the bar.

'Do you not drink at all?' Della put her elbows on the table, propped her chin on the bridge of her hands.

'No. Alcohol has a ... distressing ... effect on Minbari.'

'Oh. I see.'

Delenn's fingers linked together, resting on the tabletop. 'It has, on occasion, been known to induce homicidal rages.'

Della's eyes widened. 'Oh... Well, definitely no Manhattans for you.' She considered this new information. 'You know, I had an uncle like that once. Only the homicidal rages were induced when the alcohol was withheld, which isn't really the same thing at all, actually... Are you all right, Susan?'

Susan choked, bit the inside of her cheek. 'I'm fine.'

ooOoo

'We should probably order in.' Sheridan pulled the ornate bottle from the back of the cupboard. Brivari, barely touched - a gift from Vir Cotto in the wake of the Narn resettlement issue. It should, by rights, have gone to Susan but she had refused. Its potency would put her vodka to shame; but Sheridan had a feeling that his guests, at least, would find it a welcome addition. He straightened up, found Michael standing behind him.

'Nah, I can rustle us up something.' He pulled open a door. 'Okay, I would rustle us up something if you actually had any food. What the hell do you live on besides oranges? I mean, I could do us some orange juice, maybe some marmalade given a few hours, but that's about it.'

'I don't really get the time.'

'What, to eat?'

The captain released a breath. He liked Michael; he was fond of Michael; there were just times when he wanted to kill Michael. 'No, to cook.'

Michael eyed him critically. 'If you keep eating at the canteen the Shadows will be the least of your worries - that stuff will finish you off long before anything else gets the chance.'

Sheridan smiled. 'Yeah, well, when that happens just make sure you cultivate whatever it was that killed me and use it as a chemical weapon.'

'That's you - always looking for the positive angle.' Michael paused for a moment, then: 'Seriously, when is the last time you cooked a decent meal?'

Sheridan narrowed his eyes. 'Okay - come on out of there.'

'Huh?'

'I know you're really Stephen dressed up in a Michael Garibaldi suit.'

'Funny.'

Michael's interrogation had stirred memories - ones he had returned to so many times before. The last time he had made a decent meal... Well, he couldn't swear to how decent it had been but he had cooked it. And Delenn had eaten the flarn. He smiled to himself, collected some glasses.

'By the way,' Michael kept his voice low, 'I put an extra patrol in Downbelow, told 'em to keep an eye on, uh, the ladies. Just in case.' He grinned. 'All part of the job.'

Sheridan hesitated, torn for a moment. 'I hope for your officers' sakes the ladies don't find out about it - I've already been chewed out once tonight about that sort of thing.'

'Oh?' He raised his eyebrows. 'Who by?'

'Della.'

'Ah.' Michael was silent for a moment. 'Some guys get all the fun.'

There was, Sheridan thought, no answer to that.

The table that Mike and John had been manoeuvring was put into place with a thud. Mike took a step back, admired the handiwork. 'Okay - we've got a deck, we've got liquor, all we need now is the chow and I think we're all set.'

'Chow?'

'Food,' John translated, 'he's always thinking with his stomach.'

Sheridan's eyes crinkled. 'Yeah, that reminds me of someone I know.'

'Hey!'

'Chips,' Mike said suddenly.

John rolled his eyes. 'See? That's exactly what I'm talking about.'

'Not those chips, you big mook,' his partner replied, disgusted. 'I mean poker chips. Little coloured plastic disks - this ringing any bells? I mean, unless you wanted to play with actual potato chips, or maybe we could use your medals.' He addressed the last to Sheridan.

'What?'

Mike shrugged. 'Well, I figured that if you're anything like him,' he jerked his head at John, 'you'll have about a million of them.'

John muttered something under his breath.

'Look, I've got a set of chips,' Michael said. 'Why don't I go and get them?'

'I'll come with you,' John said. Michael looked at him, surprised. 'I could do with stretching my legs.'

In the background Mike and Sheridan's voices rose and fell, bickering amiably. John looked almost desperate, he thought. 'Okay, come on then.'

ooOoo

Should you ever find yourself on board Babylon 5, I can recommend dinner at the little place in Downbelow to which Susan had directed us. The tableclothes may be plastic and there are patches of floor that are suspiciously sticky, but it has a wonderful ambience and the food is remarkably good.

It also plays home to the largest Martinis I have ever seen.

I stared down at the glass that had been placed in front of me with awe. It was a small silvery sea with an olive floating in it like a solitary beach ball. I wondered if I might not have been better off joining Delenn in the lemonade (I was assured that that too is delicious) but I decided that very small sips at decent intervals should be quite safe.

We chatted politely at first, all gauging one another and all trying to pretend that we were not. Susan had started to relax - with her cheeks flushing and now that she was actually smiling she reminded me more of the Susan Ivanova I knew. It really is astonishing how two people can be so alike and yet so dissimilar at the same time. Our Susan is, as John would describe her, a 'tough kid' but she is also a darling girl and absolutely devoted to the boys. I could see a similar devotion in the commander - and a great deal more toughness. It was the sort of armour that comes from a hard life.

And I wondered how people compared myself and Delenn. She sat, smiling quietly, listening more than talking herself. I was under no illusions that she was not capable of holding an entire room should occasion demand.

'What should we drink to?' I lifted my glass carefully, the small sea making not-so-small waves.

'Umm - the past?' Susan volunteered.

'Hmm... Maybe to the future - sounds far more optimistic.'

Susan's eyebrows arched. 'To the future - let's hope we have one.'

Delenn sighed and looked at her with something like reproach but she said nothing. Our glasses chimed together and we all drank. I replaced my glass.

'I enjoyed meeting your friend Draal,' I said to Delenn; her smile widened and her eyes softened at the mention of his name. 'He said that he was Religious Caste - I wasn't quite certain what that meant. I thought that perhaps he is priest, but he said not.'

She paused for a minute, choosing her words. 'To be Religious Caste does not mean to be in religious orders. Minbari society is divided into three castes - Religious, Worker and Warrior.'

'And you are Religious Caste?' It was a guess but I was certain it was the correct one. I'm sure that there are exceptions (there always are) but I doubt if many warriors would talk about faith as she had; and while many workers may be devout, they probably have little time to discuss such matters. She inclined her head. 'That must be nice - to be so certain of your place, of who you are.'

There was another pause. 'Yes.' There was an undercurrent, even in that one word and I remembered what Captain Sheridan had told me; and I remembered the way that some of the Minbari had looked at me when they had mistaken me for her, as though I - or rather, she - were a non-person. 'There is a strange thing about certainties,' she continued, 'things shift and change and certainties are no longer quite so certain as they once were.'

'I hear that,' Susan said softly; she took another sip of her drink - she was some way ahead of me on that.

Delenn was watching me thoughtfully, her hands resting on the table, one either side of her glass. 'You are not certain of your place?'

It was my turn to pause and to choose my words. 'I was, then I wasn't but now I'm getting there. I realised some time ago that few of the decisions I had made in my life had been decisions at all - I had simply followed the path that had been laid out for me. Not that there was anything wrong with that; it wasn't as though I were doing anything that I did not wish to, it just didn't occur to me to do anything different. Apart from during the war when I worked at the Red Cross, I chose very little for myself. And then I married John,' I couldn't help myself but smile, 'which is the only other thing that I have chosen for myself.'

Marriage, for many women, is as stultifying as any prison; my own has brought me great freedom.

Delenn absorbed my words, turning in on herself; I could see the longing in her. Susan seemed more bemused; she caught her breath, held it for a moment then shook her head and smiled at me.

'You know, I still can't believe that your Garibaldi and Sheridan are real live detectives.'

I laughed. 'Live, perhaps, I don't know how real they are - between us, I think that they just make it up as they go along.'

Archie decided to rouse himself for a moment; he stood up, put his front paws on my knee and butted his head against me. I stroked his head. The nice waiter had been kind enough to provide me with a bowl and a jug of water and he looked like the sort of gentleman who might even rustle up a bone or two for his four-footed customer. 'It's nice here.'

'Mm. It's not a bad little place,' Susan agreed.

'How does it compare to the Fresh Aire?' She looked at me, surprised. 'Captain Sheridan mentioned it; he was attempting to persuade me - or, rather, us - not to venture into Downbelow without...'

'Without what?' Delenn took a sip of her lemonade.

'The word "escort" did pass his lips,' I admitted.

Susan snorted and rolled her eyes. 'He didn't. Did he? Oh, for God's sake...'

'I know.' I scratched Archie behind his ears and he sighed contentedly. 'He would do better to worry about himself - I suppose I really ought to have warned him that Mike cheats.'

ooOoo

I was almost getting used to all the endless corridors that all looked pretty much the same. Almost. I'd latched onto Michael Garibaldi more as a way to have a break for five minutes. Doing the old soldier routine had been fine in its way but it had also reminded me of lot of things that I'd sooner forget; then there was also the fact that Mike was in far too good a mood. Add to that the prospect of Della and her ongoing mission to make my life as difficult as possible - and that was enough to give a strong man the sort of nightmares that make your hair stand on end. Garibaldi walked next to me and didn't say much - but every now and then his eyes swivelled in my direction.

'I'll get some snaps done of my profile,' I told him, 'then you can examine it all you want.'

He cleared his throat. 'Sorry, it's just...' He looked guilty and I felt like a louse.

'Nah, ignore me - I'm just getting antsy.'

'I'll bet.'

'Doubles everywhere you look; just waiting around for someone else to solve my problems for me - and I've never been too good at doing that.'

'You don't say.'

Sarcasm - that was definitely sarcasm. I looked at him and he grinned back at me - and I would have recognised that grin a mile off.

'That wouldn't be because you think you can deal with it all better than anyone else can, would it?'

'Uh... It might... But I'll admit that all this,' I gestured around for emphasis, 'is beyond me.'

We stopped outside a door and he turned to me. 'Listen, would you be willing to put that in writing and sign it? I'd like to get it framed and hang it on my wall.'

I narrowed my eyes at him and he sniggered; he punched a code into the pad on the wall by the door and the metal slid back. We stepped inside.

'So this is your digs?' I looked around the place with interest.

'This is the place. It's not much, but it's home.'

It was smaller than the captain's, smaller than the place Della and I were putting up in but it was clean and neat and homely. Very much a man's place - no feminine touches here. I made a sweep and my brain refused to believe what my eyes had just seen. They took on a bet on it and it turned out that my eyes had been right - there really was a portrait of Daffy Duck hanging over the bed. In three hundred years, some guys just never change. If anything, they get worse. I glanced at Garibaldi and got a great view of his back.

'Nice picture,' I said.

'Thanks.' He grunted it out. He was fishing in a cabinet and had put what looked like a fondue pot on the counter; he hoiked himself up and rooted around the back of the cabinet.

'Here they are! I knew they were around here somewhere.' He jumped down to the floor, set the poker chips on the kitchen counter and blew a nice dust cloud off them. 'Man, I haven't had these out in a long time.'

'Sounds like you haven't had a game in a while.'

'Nah. Nobody here plays much poker. Some of the pilots… But I don't hang out much with them. More Ivanova's style.'

Mike was going to love her all right. 'Flyboys.' I couldn't help a chuckle. 'Still always with the cards, huh?' Garibaldi was cleaning off the chips - a nice mix of the old red, white and blue - and I couldn't help wondering why he had them if nobody ever used them. He must have read my mind (and the thought of that is also something to give you nightmares) because he said,

'This was a gift, actually. From an old friend, name of Sinclair.'

I stared at him for a moment. 'Would that be a Jeff Sinclair? Is he around somewhere?'

He looked up at me, his hands tightening on the chip caddy and I got the feeling that I'd opened my mouth and put both feet right in it. 'No. He's not around. Not anymore.'

'Oh.'

'How do you know him?'

I scratched the back of my neck. 'I don't. He was Mike's partner, back when Mike was still a Homicide dick, but I've never met him.'

'But he's still around somewhere?' It sounded like it was important to him.

'Yeah, as far as I know. Mike said he's become a priest or a monk or something; whether that's true or not...' I shrugged. 'Mike doesn't really talk about it much.'

There were a lot of things that Mike and I didn't talk about; not because we had anything to hide but because... Well, back when we hooked up we were both looking for something new, a fresh start, and it doesn't make much sense to keep dwelling on the past if you're trying to get away from it. I figure that if there's something he wants me to know he'll tell me, and vice versa; until then, we just don't ask.

Garibaldi was still staring down at the caddy and when he spoke his voice was soft. 'We had a regular game going when we were both stationed on Mars. Old Stone Face, we used to call him. You could never tell what was going on in Jeff's head, whether it was poker or anything else.' He seemed to brighten up at the memory.

There was one thing in that little speech that got to me. 'One second - you mean Mars Mars?'

His eyebrows went up, surprised. 'Yeah - Mars Mars.'

I let out a whistle. 'Okay, this I have to know and give it to me straight - are there any little green men up there?'

He laughed at me then. 'No; plenty of other things these days but no little green men.'

I sighed. 'Yeah, I should have known... Guess you can't have everything, huh?'

He grinned at me, tucked the caddy under his arm. 'C'mon. The guys are waiting. I haven't played for a long time, and I'm looking forward to taking some of Mike's funny money.'

'Good luck with that,' I muttered and followed him out of the room.

TBC