Here's the next installment. Sorry it took a while, I was really busy with some other stories. Anyways, you know the drill, and please R&R!
CHAPTER THREE
"So anyway, there I was, standing ontop of the remains of the E'ci'pa in this planet," Max was telling Marcus, obviously the ale had soaked through to his thick skull. They were drunk, and a collection of empty ale glasses before them, two slightly full. "When one of my people tell me they're going to haul it off. And I tell them, "You idiot. I'm still standing here!"
The two men laughed coarsely as they drowned in testostrome, gulping down some more ale. The bartender sighed as he replenished them. There was only a veil of people left in the bar, perhaps it was already late. But, where was he to go? Nowhere. No family to go home to. Nothing.
"So, Marcus," Max said drearily. "You haven't talked much about your love life." He let out a laugh and drank some more ale. The idea made the ranger a little more sober as he studied the ale. "There is someone I am waiting for," he said, "but she dosen't know."
"Why keep the lady back?"
"I never exactly found the "right one"."
"Are you telling me you're what I think you are?" Max asked.
Marcus let a small smile. "Yes," he admitted, drinking a bit more. Max peered pass the glass and into Marcus. Those eyes were damned piercing, even for a drunk man. "Does she know?" he asked him, settling back and drinking.
"No," he replied uneasily. "I don't want to mess things up between us." Max nodded in understanding as the ranger shrugged. "I'll tell her when I'm ready," he told the IPX representative. "When the time is right and when I am ready." He shrugged again and took a sip out of the ale. Soothing.
"Who is she?" Max suddenly popped, then gave him a sly smile. Uh-oh, trouble. "Ohh...lemme guess...it's that commander we ran into this morning. That Russian chick...Eevannova or somethin'."
"Ivanova," Marcus corrected. "Commander Susan Ivanova." He sighed drearily. "I don't understand. She's clever, she's smart and it's easy for me to make her laugh. And I look at her that way. I see her smile and I feel like I'm in heaven. When I see her upset, it makes me feel down. I drive her insane only to keep her from going insane."
"Ah," Max sighed. "You're in love."
"I suppose I am," Marcus agreed, drinking again. "There are days that even if I'm in a darkest mood, she would just appear and smile and I would no longer feel so down." He sighed overdramatically and looked down on the ale. "I believe that we shall never be."
Max smacked his shoulder. "What the hell is that suppose to mean?" he demanded. "I mean, we're on a verge of a war here. ISN is bumping their heads over something about this vessel that might pose as a threat to the entire galaxy. Earth's politics are up in shambles and we're on for civil war. And you are losing hope? Never lose hope! Faith manages on her own, thank you."
"I'm not sure what that's suppose to mean," he said, frowning.
Max smiled dimm-wittedly as he smiled and stabbed a finger at him. "It means," he emphasised, "that you, my loveless friend, must somehow show your feelings to her. Before everything falls down in your world. I have nothing to lose...except my job." He paused, thinking of himself. "Anyway, you my friend, has only one thing to lose; her." He smiled crookedly. "C'mon, go for it."
Marcus frowned. "What if---"
"Marcus! There you are!" Ah, the shining beacon in space.
The bummed-out ranger turned to see Ivanova stride into the bar. Her rank flashed; the bartender quickened his work as other customers murmured to themselves. Fortunate enough, she was in a civilian suit, and frankly to Marcus' opinion, rather good on her. Unfortunately, he was drunk enough that he could see her multiplying.
"Ah, so the good commander decides to join us!" Marcus jeered, as Max hid a chuckle, babysitting his ale. Marcus turned his attention to the two Ivanovas, then asking, "A drink, perhaps?" She smiled kindly; ah, the storm clouds parted into pure sunshine as she shook her head. "No thank you," she refused politely. "I think we should get going now, Marcus. It is way pass your bedtime."
Spoken like his mother. If his mother was still alive. He bemused a grin facing one of the Ivanovas and closing his face on her till they were fractions apart. But of course, he was drunk. He didn't even knew if she smacked into her. "Isn't it pass yours?"
She shrugged casually as she maneuvered her face away from his. The ale was intoxicating and it was making her feel like convulsing. He obviously drank too much and was now drunk beyond repairs. All she could hope now was to maneuver him into his bed. If she could. If he wasn't so heavy filled with testostrone and ale and alcohol. "I can always switch with someone," she offered. "Besides, you need to get some rest."
"What about my friend---?" Marcus asked. Behind him, Max snorted.
She turned to peer over Max to see him just as drunk as him. In fact, he was beginning to sing some damned sappy song. Ivanova rolled her eyes. What were they thinking? What was Marcus thinking, bringing him here after that blowout just hours ago? She decided to face the fact with a cool, crisp order. "I'm sure I can shove the both of you to your quarters; if I don't wear down myself."
"Aw, is it that early?" Max piped from behind, taking another sip of his deminishing ale. "C'mon, commander, just one drink."
Ivanova sighed; her throat was parched. Her stomach growled for something as her head kept arguing to shove them both to covers and go to bed. She was actually feeling sleepy and dopey and tired of her days. She needed a glass. She blinked; Marcus was staring at her with lucid eyes that ment that he was drunk.
Oh, what the heck?
"Bartender," she called. "One glass of vodka, please."
They already shoved Max into his quarters. It was hard enough. He and Marcus were singing some sappy song that she couldn't quite catch, but then again, she was just as drunk as they were. Thank goodness she managed to find his guest quarters, but the paths seemed to multiply, then multiply twice again.
She was dizzy, she was tired. Gosh, they were down at green thriteen. Now it was only her and Marcus in the turbolifts, as it hummed beneath them. Marcus was still humming to himself, off-beat so say the least. Both were quiet. She thought that if she could muster enough power to at least say good night, that was good that she wasn't completely drunk. Ah, ale and its own consequences.
"You know," Marcus said outloud, finally, when the silence was unbearable. "If you listen close, you can hear a swarm of bees coming in from a mountain top, just as big as a house, just one, gigantic bee carrying all its bloody problems in life, all swirling and burdening and..."
"Marcus," she intervened. "You're not making any sence." Ivanova shook her head, trying to fight the dreariness. "A bee can't fly over a mountain top, it'll just freeze into one big gigantic ice...popsicle." She shook her head. That wasn't right. "I mean, a...fridge. No, that didn't sound right either..."
"If you're not making sence," he said, "and if I'm not making sence, that draws to but one conclusion."
"What's that?" she asked, blinking.
He grinned widely. "it means...we're drunk."
Oh, damn, she laughed. She laughed hard. Marcus and she laughed, echoing down the lifts to wherever. That was funny. Their situation was funny. Life was funny. Oh, where were they going? Where were they? Did she command the right place to Marcus' quarters? In the matter of fact, could she remember where his place was. "Okay," she marvelled out loud. "Where the hell are we going?"
"You are headed to level red one," the computer replied dutifully.
She snipped at the computer, her eyes darting around. "Thank you, Mr. Flat-voice," she snipped at the computer. Marcus laughed again. She instantly flashed a smile as she shook her head. "You know what? I don't know how the hell they could install such a dutiful-type of computer."
"Too---what shall we call it?"
"Dutiful?"
They laughed again. The lift stopped and the doors swished open. They staggered out, supporting each other as their shoulder blades hit the corridor walls madly. This was absurb, insane, to be staggering about in the corridors around four in the morning.
Ivanova haulted in front of her quarters as the door opened. They staggered in. He plopped unrealistically onto her couch, landing on his right arm and shoulder softly. She walked over to her small kitchen and pulled out a bottle of vodka. "You want some?" she asked, her voice drowning in alcohol.
He shrugged. "What have I got to lose?"
She smiled cheesily. "Your sanity, your soberness," she offered as she blindy poured some vodka into two glasses. "You brains, maybe your rear." He laughed as she handed him the glass. They raised their glasses. "To sanity," Marcus slurred.
Ivanova matched a toast as they drowned themselves in vodka. Marcus let out a gasp of air. "Whoo," he clipped. "I never knew vodka was this strong." "The best you can get out of this Russian tonight," she said, her voice and words slurred along. "Considered this is my first time I have ever gotten drunk this year, I suppose it was good that I survived the entire excusion."
"That's nice to know."
A couple more glasses. First it became three forths, then two forths, then one forth, an eighth, a twelfth...till it was all gone. Now Ivanova and Marcus lost all their sanity and soberness. The alcohol was swarming in her brain. Gosh, she never done this before. Let alone in front of Marcus.
Thank God if he didn't remember a thing tomorrow.
"I think I'll go to bed now," she said in a drunk voice, staggering to her feet. She nearly fell back into her plant vase if Marcus didn't catch her and hauled her up to her feet again. She was so incredibly close that she could feel his body temperature. "Thanks," she murmured.
"I think I'll walk you there," he offered. "Before you crash into anything---" "Good thinking, dad," she slurred again. Oh, if she could just look closer, she could see her father looking down on her. Come to think of it, Marcus looked kind of like him when her eyes were blurred from the vodka.
They walked into her bedroom. She dropped her boots and lay down onto her bed and sighed, looking at the ceiling. "Dad," she whispered, "where are you going to sleep?" Marcus smiled as he lay down beside her. "Go to sleep. I'll be here," he replied.
"Good night, dad...Marcus."
"Good night, Susan."
And at the same time, the lights went out.
"John."
Ah, a familiar and kind voice. He blinked as he opened his heavy-lidded eyes. He blinked again; as a woman's face was looking kindly down on him. At first, he thought he was seeing the dead ghost of his wife, Anna, but then he noticed the long brown hair and the alien eyes and the familiar ridges that showed her former heritage. Ambassador Delenn.
"Delenn?" he asked in question.
She smiled at him kindly as he struggled to a sit-up position. His back ached like blazes, and he was still getting use to the lights. She was kneeling beside his chair, a warm mug on her hands. She handed it to him graciously. "Here. Drink this. You will need it to keep your strenghts up."
He laughed in embaressment as she gazed at him with questioning eyes. He looked at her and smiled. Oh, how he longed for the company since his wife's tragic death. Delenn was his beacon, his hope, his support, his counterpart. She was there when he needed the help. "I---" he shook his head. "I fell asleep."
"We were suppose to have breakfast, John."
"Oh---that's right! I'm sorry, Delenn. Tomorrow then."
She frowned. "Tomorrow your back will hurt even more if this catches up," she pointed out briefly, before her frown creased into a shy smile. "I suppose breakfast can wait till tomorrow. Your shift starts in fifteen minutes."
He bolted up. "It's morning?!"
"Yes, John."
"I---I fell asleep."
She rolled her eyes cumberly and gave him another gracious smile. "Yes, John, you have," she admitted to him. She got to her feet and picked up his jacket that went with his uniform. He then realized that it was a bit chilly; he had taken off the discustingly heavy uniform top off last night. Then, the realization popped.
"What were you...doing, last night, to make you sleep there?"
He looked back at the chair. "Oh, it's nothing," he dismissed, but once he caught Delenn's stare, he sighed and said, "Marcus and this IPX member were having an arguement, big mouth to big mouth. it went up to... eleven, i think, in the night! Can you believe that?!" He sipped the stuff from the mug. Mmm...what was it?
"I suppose so," Delenn mustered up to say. "Marcus mastered many things; stealth, alertness, control. Unfortunately, patience and blabbering wasn't exactly mastered completely." She sighed. "Oh, I do hope he is...okay."
"I hope so," Sheridan agreed, bringing to his feet. "Well, I better get going. If I have a shift to start soon enough, might as well...go." He smiled at her again and she returned it with gratitude. Ah, at least the world somewhere has been bright enough for him. "Thank you, Delenn."
She bowed down slightly and watched him leave.
"Morning, one and all." Garibaldi strode into C&C, hands jabbed into his pockets, whistling, a pad tucked on his arm. Lt. Cmdr. David Corwin and Security Zack Allen looked up from their consols. Wait a minute...since when did Zack work up in C&C? "Mr. Corwin, Mr. Allen, you're up early."
"Mornin' chief!" Zack greeted.
"Up early, always will be," Corwin grumbled.
Garibaldi frowned slightly, not sure on what he ment. He looked around; something was peculiarly wrong. "Hey," he said, "has any of you seen Ivanova? It's her shift, and I have a report to hand it." He frowned at the padd. "I'm not lugging this piece around all day."
"She was suppose to be here," Corwin told Garibaldi without looking up. "For her shift. But she's not. She's not responding to her link but computer's indicated she's in her quarters." He tried oh-so hard not to show his grin. "I think she's just...overslept."
Garibaldi frowned. This wasn't like her. "I think I'd better go there," he said cautiously. "To check if she's okay." He was about to head to the lifts when Zack stepped into his way. He frowned again. "Zack, come on, now!"
"Chief," he said, as if conspiring. "I don't think that's such a good idea. Let the commander sleep in a bit. I mean, she's been working her butt out for the last couple of weeks ever since news came out about the shadows.She needs the excess sleep. Corwin and I got it all covered up here."
Corwin stiffened up in protest over what Zack said.
He gave a warbly smile and plucked the padd out of his hold. "Tell you what, Chief," he continued. "We'll handle this precious baby and we swear we aren't going to peek. When we see the commander, we'll give it to her. Is that fine with you, sir?" He smiled again.
The chief plucked the padd from his friend's hand and tossed it over to Corwin. "Understood," he said lightly, jamming his hands in his pockets again. "I'll see you for your shift, Mr. Allen." He tilted his head slightly at the other officer. "Mr. Corwin." He then strode to the doors of the lift and left the center.
Zack scowled at Corwin. "Why'd he tossed it to you?"
The lieutenant smiled slightly. "Because I have a higher rank than you do, Zack," he simply replied. Before he could reply, he caught something on his screen. "I'm picking up a vessel. Something's coming through the jump point."
"Commander Ivanova, the time is 1030 hundred hours."
Ivanova yawned and shifted her position in her bed. Damn, every morning for the last three years was the same eight words ever single morning Why couldn't she be left alone for once? Ten thirty hundred hours?! She kept hearing the same words but kept ignoring them and telling the computer to shut up. Oh, she was dead for it!
Without opening eyes, she shifted a bit to her left. This was unconfortable; what on earth was she wearing?! She opened one dreary eye. Civilian clothing. Black trousers and a nice collarless shirt, a bit unbuttoned down. Her rank insignia flashing. Her hair messed up from her position in bed. Her mouth tasting like...vodka? What on earth happened to her last night?
She felt another body shift. What the---? She spun around in surprise to find Marcus Cole just waking up from his side of her bed, apparently in a clueless state as she was in. His hair seemed a bit messed up from plopping onto her bed last night; what happened last night? He was fully dressed, except his collar was a bit loosened up.
"Where am I?" he asked drearily, his voice rasped. Vodka.
She bit back a smile at his hapless state, without opening her eyes. "You're in my quarters, Marcus," she stated dryly as his voice was. God, was she hapless or feeling sorry for herself or what? "In my bed no less." Hmm...
He snapped his eyes opened to see the commander's body faced towards his. Not on her feet yet. At least she was in the same situation as he was in. At least she wouldn't bite his head off. Normally. Why the sudden cool surface? At least he could land.
"Um...er...I...what... happened last night?" he stammered. "I hope, we---um, well---we didn't---?" She knew what he ment and shook her head thankfully. "No," she replied. "I'm remembering bits and pieces of what happened last night. You were in the bar Down Below with that IPX member guy, drinking yourselves drunk. You invited me in...I guess I got as drunk as you two were."
"Sorry," he muttered helplessly, in fear she'd steam up.
She inwardly took it into her heart; outside, she continued. She wouldn't want him to think she had a weakness of forgiving instantly. "We took that Eilerson back and apparently, I think we had some vodka before plopping onto bed."
"That's it---right?" Being careful. She liked that.
"Yes. That I could---remember."
"Vodka," he remarked, tasting his lips. "I still have it on my mouth. It didn't dry off." She nodded, and for a moment, they just looked at each other. A side of her said, oh, just do it. The other said, you're late, ms. full-in-command. His eyes...so...full of depht. Innocence but knew what was outside the world beyound to what she will ever know.
Her eyes...so...full of defences, her mind filled with dephts of secrets never to blossom. Yet inside, Marcus could almost see there was only a vunerable Susan Ivanova lying and seeing curiously of her surroundings. One part of him said to just do it but the other protested not to.
"Commander, the time is 1040 hundred hours."
She blinked and drew herself up, avoiding any humiliation or confrontation. Ah, thank goodness she made a move. Marcus did the same, back to business, same as always. It was silly, having a Ranger right beside you while you sleep? Maybe instead of an angel, God sent him. Ach. He should have sent a lest irritable one.
"Did it just say 1040 hundred?" he asked, perky.
"Oh, damn!" she spat angrily. "My shift started more than three hours ago! Oh...what will Corwin say? We were suppose to analyse that damned problem with the jump point!" She gulped. "Or worse yet, what will Sheridan say?!"
"Corwin will ignore the fact and continue with his job till you arrive," he pointed out gently. "As for Sheridan; hopefully he wouldn't be up in C&C right now..."
"Where is Commander Ivanova?" Sheridan demanded. "We got a burnt-to-crisp probe and she's not even on duty yet? Her shift started more than three hours ago!" He scowled at the two officers. "You two were here all that time! Why haven't you contacted her? hmm?"
Crowin and Allen gulped and held back, accepting the scowls.
"Well?" Sheridan demanded.
"Well, um, sir," Allen began when Corwin interjected. "Um. Captain," his number three said, "we did not contact her because when I saw her leave last night, she seemed rather...tired, fatigue. No sleep in days, sir. When she didn't show up, or acknowledge our hails but the computer says she's in her quarters, we assumed she just...overslept."
"Lieutenant---" the captain prowled.
"She needed one," Allen told him. "Everyone needs it once in a while." He gave a timid smile as the captain's features melted a bit. The steady-gripped jaw was gone. At least he wasn't yelling anymore.
"Well," he stated. "I suppose so."
The two exchanged relieved glances.
Sheridan smiled. "But," he added, "since she's not here and she's missing three shifts, you two are both on a triple shift now in her place. Deal with the jump point problem. Report to me at 0800 tomorrow. Understood?"
Their faces dropped. "Yes sir."
He walked off, out of C&C, to the chamber of Non-Aligned Worlds.
"Great," Allen and Corwin grumbled to themselves.
So, what do u think? I'll get the next one as soon as I can!
CHAPTER THREE
"So anyway, there I was, standing ontop of the remains of the E'ci'pa in this planet," Max was telling Marcus, obviously the ale had soaked through to his thick skull. They were drunk, and a collection of empty ale glasses before them, two slightly full. "When one of my people tell me they're going to haul it off. And I tell them, "You idiot. I'm still standing here!"
The two men laughed coarsely as they drowned in testostrome, gulping down some more ale. The bartender sighed as he replenished them. There was only a veil of people left in the bar, perhaps it was already late. But, where was he to go? Nowhere. No family to go home to. Nothing.
"So, Marcus," Max said drearily. "You haven't talked much about your love life." He let out a laugh and drank some more ale. The idea made the ranger a little more sober as he studied the ale. "There is someone I am waiting for," he said, "but she dosen't know."
"Why keep the lady back?"
"I never exactly found the "right one"."
"Are you telling me you're what I think you are?" Max asked.
Marcus let a small smile. "Yes," he admitted, drinking a bit more. Max peered pass the glass and into Marcus. Those eyes were damned piercing, even for a drunk man. "Does she know?" he asked him, settling back and drinking.
"No," he replied uneasily. "I don't want to mess things up between us." Max nodded in understanding as the ranger shrugged. "I'll tell her when I'm ready," he told the IPX representative. "When the time is right and when I am ready." He shrugged again and took a sip out of the ale. Soothing.
"Who is she?" Max suddenly popped, then gave him a sly smile. Uh-oh, trouble. "Ohh...lemme guess...it's that commander we ran into this morning. That Russian chick...Eevannova or somethin'."
"Ivanova," Marcus corrected. "Commander Susan Ivanova." He sighed drearily. "I don't understand. She's clever, she's smart and it's easy for me to make her laugh. And I look at her that way. I see her smile and I feel like I'm in heaven. When I see her upset, it makes me feel down. I drive her insane only to keep her from going insane."
"Ah," Max sighed. "You're in love."
"I suppose I am," Marcus agreed, drinking again. "There are days that even if I'm in a darkest mood, she would just appear and smile and I would no longer feel so down." He sighed overdramatically and looked down on the ale. "I believe that we shall never be."
Max smacked his shoulder. "What the hell is that suppose to mean?" he demanded. "I mean, we're on a verge of a war here. ISN is bumping their heads over something about this vessel that might pose as a threat to the entire galaxy. Earth's politics are up in shambles and we're on for civil war. And you are losing hope? Never lose hope! Faith manages on her own, thank you."
"I'm not sure what that's suppose to mean," he said, frowning.
Max smiled dimm-wittedly as he smiled and stabbed a finger at him. "It means," he emphasised, "that you, my loveless friend, must somehow show your feelings to her. Before everything falls down in your world. I have nothing to lose...except my job." He paused, thinking of himself. "Anyway, you my friend, has only one thing to lose; her." He smiled crookedly. "C'mon, go for it."
Marcus frowned. "What if---"
"Marcus! There you are!" Ah, the shining beacon in space.
The bummed-out ranger turned to see Ivanova stride into the bar. Her rank flashed; the bartender quickened his work as other customers murmured to themselves. Fortunate enough, she was in a civilian suit, and frankly to Marcus' opinion, rather good on her. Unfortunately, he was drunk enough that he could see her multiplying.
"Ah, so the good commander decides to join us!" Marcus jeered, as Max hid a chuckle, babysitting his ale. Marcus turned his attention to the two Ivanovas, then asking, "A drink, perhaps?" She smiled kindly; ah, the storm clouds parted into pure sunshine as she shook her head. "No thank you," she refused politely. "I think we should get going now, Marcus. It is way pass your bedtime."
Spoken like his mother. If his mother was still alive. He bemused a grin facing one of the Ivanovas and closing his face on her till they were fractions apart. But of course, he was drunk. He didn't even knew if she smacked into her. "Isn't it pass yours?"
She shrugged casually as she maneuvered her face away from his. The ale was intoxicating and it was making her feel like convulsing. He obviously drank too much and was now drunk beyond repairs. All she could hope now was to maneuver him into his bed. If she could. If he wasn't so heavy filled with testostrone and ale and alcohol. "I can always switch with someone," she offered. "Besides, you need to get some rest."
"What about my friend---?" Marcus asked. Behind him, Max snorted.
She turned to peer over Max to see him just as drunk as him. In fact, he was beginning to sing some damned sappy song. Ivanova rolled her eyes. What were they thinking? What was Marcus thinking, bringing him here after that blowout just hours ago? She decided to face the fact with a cool, crisp order. "I'm sure I can shove the both of you to your quarters; if I don't wear down myself."
"Aw, is it that early?" Max piped from behind, taking another sip of his deminishing ale. "C'mon, commander, just one drink."
Ivanova sighed; her throat was parched. Her stomach growled for something as her head kept arguing to shove them both to covers and go to bed. She was actually feeling sleepy and dopey and tired of her days. She needed a glass. She blinked; Marcus was staring at her with lucid eyes that ment that he was drunk.
Oh, what the heck?
"Bartender," she called. "One glass of vodka, please."
They already shoved Max into his quarters. It was hard enough. He and Marcus were singing some sappy song that she couldn't quite catch, but then again, she was just as drunk as they were. Thank goodness she managed to find his guest quarters, but the paths seemed to multiply, then multiply twice again.
She was dizzy, she was tired. Gosh, they were down at green thriteen. Now it was only her and Marcus in the turbolifts, as it hummed beneath them. Marcus was still humming to himself, off-beat so say the least. Both were quiet. She thought that if she could muster enough power to at least say good night, that was good that she wasn't completely drunk. Ah, ale and its own consequences.
"You know," Marcus said outloud, finally, when the silence was unbearable. "If you listen close, you can hear a swarm of bees coming in from a mountain top, just as big as a house, just one, gigantic bee carrying all its bloody problems in life, all swirling and burdening and..."
"Marcus," she intervened. "You're not making any sence." Ivanova shook her head, trying to fight the dreariness. "A bee can't fly over a mountain top, it'll just freeze into one big gigantic ice...popsicle." She shook her head. That wasn't right. "I mean, a...fridge. No, that didn't sound right either..."
"If you're not making sence," he said, "and if I'm not making sence, that draws to but one conclusion."
"What's that?" she asked, blinking.
He grinned widely. "it means...we're drunk."
Oh, damn, she laughed. She laughed hard. Marcus and she laughed, echoing down the lifts to wherever. That was funny. Their situation was funny. Life was funny. Oh, where were they going? Where were they? Did she command the right place to Marcus' quarters? In the matter of fact, could she remember where his place was. "Okay," she marvelled out loud. "Where the hell are we going?"
"You are headed to level red one," the computer replied dutifully.
She snipped at the computer, her eyes darting around. "Thank you, Mr. Flat-voice," she snipped at the computer. Marcus laughed again. She instantly flashed a smile as she shook her head. "You know what? I don't know how the hell they could install such a dutiful-type of computer."
"Too---what shall we call it?"
"Dutiful?"
They laughed again. The lift stopped and the doors swished open. They staggered out, supporting each other as their shoulder blades hit the corridor walls madly. This was absurb, insane, to be staggering about in the corridors around four in the morning.
Ivanova haulted in front of her quarters as the door opened. They staggered in. He plopped unrealistically onto her couch, landing on his right arm and shoulder softly. She walked over to her small kitchen and pulled out a bottle of vodka. "You want some?" she asked, her voice drowning in alcohol.
He shrugged. "What have I got to lose?"
She smiled cheesily. "Your sanity, your soberness," she offered as she blindy poured some vodka into two glasses. "You brains, maybe your rear." He laughed as she handed him the glass. They raised their glasses. "To sanity," Marcus slurred.
Ivanova matched a toast as they drowned themselves in vodka. Marcus let out a gasp of air. "Whoo," he clipped. "I never knew vodka was this strong." "The best you can get out of this Russian tonight," she said, her voice and words slurred along. "Considered this is my first time I have ever gotten drunk this year, I suppose it was good that I survived the entire excusion."
"That's nice to know."
A couple more glasses. First it became three forths, then two forths, then one forth, an eighth, a twelfth...till it was all gone. Now Ivanova and Marcus lost all their sanity and soberness. The alcohol was swarming in her brain. Gosh, she never done this before. Let alone in front of Marcus.
Thank God if he didn't remember a thing tomorrow.
"I think I'll go to bed now," she said in a drunk voice, staggering to her feet. She nearly fell back into her plant vase if Marcus didn't catch her and hauled her up to her feet again. She was so incredibly close that she could feel his body temperature. "Thanks," she murmured.
"I think I'll walk you there," he offered. "Before you crash into anything---" "Good thinking, dad," she slurred again. Oh, if she could just look closer, she could see her father looking down on her. Come to think of it, Marcus looked kind of like him when her eyes were blurred from the vodka.
They walked into her bedroom. She dropped her boots and lay down onto her bed and sighed, looking at the ceiling. "Dad," she whispered, "where are you going to sleep?" Marcus smiled as he lay down beside her. "Go to sleep. I'll be here," he replied.
"Good night, dad...Marcus."
"Good night, Susan."
And at the same time, the lights went out.
"John."
Ah, a familiar and kind voice. He blinked as he opened his heavy-lidded eyes. He blinked again; as a woman's face was looking kindly down on him. At first, he thought he was seeing the dead ghost of his wife, Anna, but then he noticed the long brown hair and the alien eyes and the familiar ridges that showed her former heritage. Ambassador Delenn.
"Delenn?" he asked in question.
She smiled at him kindly as he struggled to a sit-up position. His back ached like blazes, and he was still getting use to the lights. She was kneeling beside his chair, a warm mug on her hands. She handed it to him graciously. "Here. Drink this. You will need it to keep your strenghts up."
He laughed in embaressment as she gazed at him with questioning eyes. He looked at her and smiled. Oh, how he longed for the company since his wife's tragic death. Delenn was his beacon, his hope, his support, his counterpart. She was there when he needed the help. "I---" he shook his head. "I fell asleep."
"We were suppose to have breakfast, John."
"Oh---that's right! I'm sorry, Delenn. Tomorrow then."
She frowned. "Tomorrow your back will hurt even more if this catches up," she pointed out briefly, before her frown creased into a shy smile. "I suppose breakfast can wait till tomorrow. Your shift starts in fifteen minutes."
He bolted up. "It's morning?!"
"Yes, John."
"I---I fell asleep."
She rolled her eyes cumberly and gave him another gracious smile. "Yes, John, you have," she admitted to him. She got to her feet and picked up his jacket that went with his uniform. He then realized that it was a bit chilly; he had taken off the discustingly heavy uniform top off last night. Then, the realization popped.
"What were you...doing, last night, to make you sleep there?"
He looked back at the chair. "Oh, it's nothing," he dismissed, but once he caught Delenn's stare, he sighed and said, "Marcus and this IPX member were having an arguement, big mouth to big mouth. it went up to... eleven, i think, in the night! Can you believe that?!" He sipped the stuff from the mug. Mmm...what was it?
"I suppose so," Delenn mustered up to say. "Marcus mastered many things; stealth, alertness, control. Unfortunately, patience and blabbering wasn't exactly mastered completely." She sighed. "Oh, I do hope he is...okay."
"I hope so," Sheridan agreed, bringing to his feet. "Well, I better get going. If I have a shift to start soon enough, might as well...go." He smiled at her again and she returned it with gratitude. Ah, at least the world somewhere has been bright enough for him. "Thank you, Delenn."
She bowed down slightly and watched him leave.
"Morning, one and all." Garibaldi strode into C&C, hands jabbed into his pockets, whistling, a pad tucked on his arm. Lt. Cmdr. David Corwin and Security Zack Allen looked up from their consols. Wait a minute...since when did Zack work up in C&C? "Mr. Corwin, Mr. Allen, you're up early."
"Mornin' chief!" Zack greeted.
"Up early, always will be," Corwin grumbled.
Garibaldi frowned slightly, not sure on what he ment. He looked around; something was peculiarly wrong. "Hey," he said, "has any of you seen Ivanova? It's her shift, and I have a report to hand it." He frowned at the padd. "I'm not lugging this piece around all day."
"She was suppose to be here," Corwin told Garibaldi without looking up. "For her shift. But she's not. She's not responding to her link but computer's indicated she's in her quarters." He tried oh-so hard not to show his grin. "I think she's just...overslept."
Garibaldi frowned. This wasn't like her. "I think I'd better go there," he said cautiously. "To check if she's okay." He was about to head to the lifts when Zack stepped into his way. He frowned again. "Zack, come on, now!"
"Chief," he said, as if conspiring. "I don't think that's such a good idea. Let the commander sleep in a bit. I mean, she's been working her butt out for the last couple of weeks ever since news came out about the shadows.She needs the excess sleep. Corwin and I got it all covered up here."
Corwin stiffened up in protest over what Zack said.
He gave a warbly smile and plucked the padd out of his hold. "Tell you what, Chief," he continued. "We'll handle this precious baby and we swear we aren't going to peek. When we see the commander, we'll give it to her. Is that fine with you, sir?" He smiled again.
The chief plucked the padd from his friend's hand and tossed it over to Corwin. "Understood," he said lightly, jamming his hands in his pockets again. "I'll see you for your shift, Mr. Allen." He tilted his head slightly at the other officer. "Mr. Corwin." He then strode to the doors of the lift and left the center.
Zack scowled at Corwin. "Why'd he tossed it to you?"
The lieutenant smiled slightly. "Because I have a higher rank than you do, Zack," he simply replied. Before he could reply, he caught something on his screen. "I'm picking up a vessel. Something's coming through the jump point."
"Commander Ivanova, the time is 1030 hundred hours."
Ivanova yawned and shifted her position in her bed. Damn, every morning for the last three years was the same eight words ever single morning Why couldn't she be left alone for once? Ten thirty hundred hours?! She kept hearing the same words but kept ignoring them and telling the computer to shut up. Oh, she was dead for it!
Without opening eyes, she shifted a bit to her left. This was unconfortable; what on earth was she wearing?! She opened one dreary eye. Civilian clothing. Black trousers and a nice collarless shirt, a bit unbuttoned down. Her rank insignia flashing. Her hair messed up from her position in bed. Her mouth tasting like...vodka? What on earth happened to her last night?
She felt another body shift. What the---? She spun around in surprise to find Marcus Cole just waking up from his side of her bed, apparently in a clueless state as she was in. His hair seemed a bit messed up from plopping onto her bed last night; what happened last night? He was fully dressed, except his collar was a bit loosened up.
"Where am I?" he asked drearily, his voice rasped. Vodka.
She bit back a smile at his hapless state, without opening her eyes. "You're in my quarters, Marcus," she stated dryly as his voice was. God, was she hapless or feeling sorry for herself or what? "In my bed no less." Hmm...
He snapped his eyes opened to see the commander's body faced towards his. Not on her feet yet. At least she was in the same situation as he was in. At least she wouldn't bite his head off. Normally. Why the sudden cool surface? At least he could land.
"Um...er...I...what... happened last night?" he stammered. "I hope, we---um, well---we didn't---?" She knew what he ment and shook her head thankfully. "No," she replied. "I'm remembering bits and pieces of what happened last night. You were in the bar Down Below with that IPX member guy, drinking yourselves drunk. You invited me in...I guess I got as drunk as you two were."
"Sorry," he muttered helplessly, in fear she'd steam up.
She inwardly took it into her heart; outside, she continued. She wouldn't want him to think she had a weakness of forgiving instantly. "We took that Eilerson back and apparently, I think we had some vodka before plopping onto bed."
"That's it---right?" Being careful. She liked that.
"Yes. That I could---remember."
"Vodka," he remarked, tasting his lips. "I still have it on my mouth. It didn't dry off." She nodded, and for a moment, they just looked at each other. A side of her said, oh, just do it. The other said, you're late, ms. full-in-command. His eyes...so...full of depht. Innocence but knew what was outside the world beyound to what she will ever know.
Her eyes...so...full of defences, her mind filled with dephts of secrets never to blossom. Yet inside, Marcus could almost see there was only a vunerable Susan Ivanova lying and seeing curiously of her surroundings. One part of him said to just do it but the other protested not to.
"Commander, the time is 1040 hundred hours."
She blinked and drew herself up, avoiding any humiliation or confrontation. Ah, thank goodness she made a move. Marcus did the same, back to business, same as always. It was silly, having a Ranger right beside you while you sleep? Maybe instead of an angel, God sent him. Ach. He should have sent a lest irritable one.
"Did it just say 1040 hundred?" he asked, perky.
"Oh, damn!" she spat angrily. "My shift started more than three hours ago! Oh...what will Corwin say? We were suppose to analyse that damned problem with the jump point!" She gulped. "Or worse yet, what will Sheridan say?!"
"Corwin will ignore the fact and continue with his job till you arrive," he pointed out gently. "As for Sheridan; hopefully he wouldn't be up in C&C right now..."
"Where is Commander Ivanova?" Sheridan demanded. "We got a burnt-to-crisp probe and she's not even on duty yet? Her shift started more than three hours ago!" He scowled at the two officers. "You two were here all that time! Why haven't you contacted her? hmm?"
Crowin and Allen gulped and held back, accepting the scowls.
"Well?" Sheridan demanded.
"Well, um, sir," Allen began when Corwin interjected. "Um. Captain," his number three said, "we did not contact her because when I saw her leave last night, she seemed rather...tired, fatigue. No sleep in days, sir. When she didn't show up, or acknowledge our hails but the computer says she's in her quarters, we assumed she just...overslept."
"Lieutenant---" the captain prowled.
"She needed one," Allen told him. "Everyone needs it once in a while." He gave a timid smile as the captain's features melted a bit. The steady-gripped jaw was gone. At least he wasn't yelling anymore.
"Well," he stated. "I suppose so."
The two exchanged relieved glances.
Sheridan smiled. "But," he added, "since she's not here and she's missing three shifts, you two are both on a triple shift now in her place. Deal with the jump point problem. Report to me at 0800 tomorrow. Understood?"
Their faces dropped. "Yes sir."
He walked off, out of C&C, to the chamber of Non-Aligned Worlds.
"Great," Allen and Corwin grumbled to themselves.
So, what do u think? I'll get the next one as soon as I can!