Title : ...and a Happy New Year
Author: Jo Taylor
Part 2 of 7
Pairing: Marcus/Ivanova sort of
Rating: General
Disclaimer: Characters belong to JMS, the idea belongs to me!!
Authors notes: Well, this was supposed to be a light-hearted follow up to Merry Xmas; it didn't end up that way g
Feedback most welcome.
…and a Happy New Year pt 2
Marcus had spent the rest of the night trying to sleep, but between the pain in his side and the intrusion of the waif-like face, along with a vague sense of familiarity, he woke feeling less than refreshed. His head buzzed uncomfortably and his mouth tasted awful. 'Valen,' he thought to himself, 'I haven't even got the excuse of a hangover.'
He opened his eyes slowly, and winced at the sudden intrusion of light on his photosensitive retinas. He was met with the presence of Stephen and Susan standing by his bedside. Closing his eyes again he counted up to ten out loud in Minbari; the visions were still there when he opened them again.
"I can't afford a home visit, Stephen. Go away, there's a good chap; let me die in peace."
"You are not going to die, Marcus," the patient voice pronounced with authority. Marcus was still in his medical blues and Stephen rolled up the sleeve to administer a painkilling injection.
Susan had taken up a post against the far wall, watching Marcus with an intensity that was becoming quite intrusive. With an effort, Marcus pushed himself up from the bed and straightened up, wincing at the stab of pain that shot through him. Two sets of hands reached to steady his swaying body. He stood, perfectly still, until their unwanted help was removed. On occasion he could assume the most distant mien, and although it sat ill with his undressed state, it had the desired effect.
Although he heard Susan's breathed curse he ignored them both, heading for the sonic shower. "If you two don't mind, I need to freshen up a bit, put some clothes on. Was this just a social call? If not you'll have to excuse me for a moment or two."
Stephen's "I'll come with you," raised his eyebrow in disbelief.
"Much as I love you Stephen, this is one thing I can manage for myself!"
"Don't be an idiot, I want to check your wounds and replace the dressings. Unless you would rather we did it here, in front of the Commander?"
He felt the colour seep into his cheeks and turned quickly away from Susan's tight grin and bright eyes. Under other circumstances he would be delighted to strip for her, but not now, and not like this.
The two men disappeared into the small bathroom and Susan got only the briefest glimpse of Marcus' half-naked body. The pale skin glistened in the overhead lighting, and scars old and new were highlighted in its uncompromising glare. Not for the first time Susan wondered at the life he led. He had always been closed mouthed about where he was sent and what he had to do. The scars indicated more danger than she would have thought the brief of 'watch and report' might involve.
Stephen returned as the shower started up and they spoke quietly together, even though it was unlikely Marcus could hear them over the sonic noise.
"How much do we tell him? I know he's as trustworthy as they come, but this is not our secret to tell." Susan bit her lip in frustration at Stephen's question.
"It's not really my place to make this decision. You were the one running the whole show, you knew the Siskins better than anyone else." She paused to let him gather his thoughts. "Would they trust a Ranger with this?"
Stephen's eyes turned to the closed bathroom door, where the sound of the shower had ceased, his gaze considered. "He may be their only hope." With his eyes back on Susan, he did not hear the door behind him open as he said, "I think we have to tell him some of the truth at least. I think we can trust him."
"That's nice to know," commented the soft voice behind them. Dressed in his Ranger uniform of browns and black, his hair still damp, he looked almost his usual self. Only the paleness of his features and his unusually quiet attitude attested to his recent illness and his current low state.
The two jumped guiltily and turned as one to face him. Susan was first to recover, and gestured for him to sit. He did so, and the others joined him; Franklin beside him on the bed and Ivanova taking the chair.
"So, what is it you can trust me with?"
Franklin began. "About a year ago, maybe longer, we had a few visitors going through the station. People that the rest of the staff here knew nothing about. I helped them get past the system, arranged transport and papers."
Marcus nodded, and edged in before Stephen could continue. "You are talking about the telepaths, those on the run from PsiCorp." It was not a question but a quiet statement.
Franklin's eyes widened then narrowed suspiciously. "How did you know about that?"
The grin that split Marcus' face radiated humour. "Come now, Stephen, I'm a Ranger remember. There is very little we don't know about what is going on." His eyes crinkled in laughter abruptly curtailed as a spasm of pain radiated through him. "Bugger, that hurt," he cursed.
Susan had flinched unconsciously in sympathy as Marcus pressed a hand to the wound.
"Sorry, shouldn't swear with ladies present," he grinned at her.
"For god's sake, Marcus, how do you know?" Susan leaned forward interrogatively.
His smile vanished as dark thoughts took hold. "The Rangers had known about the rogue telepaths for some time. They had been filtering through various systems, coming under attack from PsiCorp and others for months. One group in particular, on Varin Prime, was almost wiped out. This particular clique was helpful to us; saved one of our operatives from a rather sticky end. " He hesitated for a moment. "I take it what is said here goes no further?" They both nodded.
"Delenn would have my entrails strung on the altar for this if she ever found out. Not that I am opposed to sacrificial slaughter you understand, it has its place don't you think?"
"Marcus," Susan growled.
"Sorry. Where was I? Oh yes, well a group of us decided to help out when we could. We provided a little transport of our own. Did you never wonder how some of the telepaths arrived on Babylon 5?"
"You?" Stephen uttered. "But you weren't assigned to the station at the time."
"Well you may not have seen me, but I was around. The Rangers were on the station quite frequently actually. Great place for finding out all sorts of things."
"Never mind that. Did you have any dealings with the Siskin family? Jake and Sara were the parents and little Naomi was the daughter. From your description of the girl in your dreams, it could be the child. She went missing a year ago today." Ivanova's gaze was intense, compelling.
Marcus let his mind wander back to those days of the illegal railroad he and some of his friends had been involved in. There had been so many desperate faces at that time, but hardly any families. And then it came to him, that very last run on Christmas Eve last year. Stephen had shut the route by that time, Bester had got wind of the operation and things had come to a head, but Marcus had passed the family on to his contact who in turn had contacted Franklin. He had not followed up on them; he never had on any of the refugees he had helped. His plate was already full with scouting the rim, he could not give his time and energy to those he thought safe.
The little girl and her parents had spent most of their short time on his ship closeted in the cabin; he had seen them briefly boarding and departing, that was all. He had a vague recollection of the child tugging at his cloak and his flicking her face with one finger as she grinned up at him; she had been such a happy little girl then.
His face must have given away his thoughts. Stephen, his face grave, took up the narrative.
"She went missing the day after Christmas. We turned this place upside down as best we could without revealing who or what we were looking for. The few telepaths that were still on board, did their best to track her down but she was too young, her latent powers too weak for them to trace. In the end we had to drop the search, we came to the conclusion that she had either been taken off the station or..."
"Well now we know she isn't, don't we. So," Marcus declared purposefully, "we start to look again."
"But where? Marcus we looked everywhere we could think of, and we didn't find a trace of her. Where will you go? Did you see anything in your dreams that hinted at her location?" Susan's intense gaze bored into him.
"I didn't see anything except her face, but... there was a familiar feel to it. I can't explain it to you, the area was totally black, and yet I knew it."
"Was it even on the station?"
"Oh yes," he replied to her, "somewhere Down Below. That much I do know."
"Then we had best make a move. I am off shift until 2100 tonight; that gives us nearly eight hours. We can at least make a start."
Marcus met Susan's burst of energy with dismay.
"You can't come with me Susan. Everyone down there would spot the uniform and be off in a trice. I work better alone, they know me down there, trust me. I'll find her." Seeing her doubt he added, "I promise."
Franklin stepped in to back Susan's claim. "I think you should take Susan, Marcus. If... when you do find her, she might feel more comfortable with a woman."
Marcus considered them both for a moment, turning over in his mind all the worst case scenarios. In his present state, if things went very wrong, he would be less than effective. Susan on the other hand could handle herself well in a fight. He might need her backup. Besides, it gave him a chance to spend time with her.
"You need to get changed, something that won't stand out down there. And you had better be armed; you never know what we might be getting into. I'll meet you outside your quarters in half an hour."
Susan nodded and headed to the door, turning she directed an order at Stephen. "Make sure he eats, he has had nothing except a cup of tea for the last few days." Before either man could comment on her sudden concern for the Ranger's welfare, she was gone.
"Well, breakfast had better be my treat. Let's go."
"One moment, Stephen." Marcus rummaged in the bottom cupboard of his kitchen, bringing out a small bag of tightly wrapped items. He tucked them securely in his pocket, picked up his pike and tested it, then fixed it to his belt under the lightweight cloak. "Ready."
...