CHAPTER 4: DECISIONS

Bester left Babylon 5 without so much a look back. At his side, the girl - Lauren - stayed silent, looking at him as if he would be her next meal. Praying mantis. If she had her way, he would be. Black widow. He knew her type. Sweet, innocent little Lauren. Probably with more muscle in the scheming department than the top ranks of Psi Corps combined. Not that that is especially hard.

Okay, new topic.

He climbed into the ship and waited for her to climb up after him before he closed the door. Then it was a matter of routine - strap on the seat belt, signal the station that they were ready to depart and ward off Lauren's advances before setting off. Wait and wait and wait until she finally offered to 'take care' of the mundane.

Good thing she did. Jase wouldn't have been pleased if I'd had to space her.

Idle thoughts. He wouldn't have done that, but he was free to think it - wasn't he? - to let her hear him think it and keep her silent through fear.

There was a prickling just outside his mind, like someone gingerly poking deadened flesh to check for a reaction. Hello Lauren. Been listening long?

A pause, while she smiled ineffectually at him and then let her little-girl mask drop. Long enough. I heard some.... interesting things, sir. A smirk hovered over her lips. Praying mantis?

A compliment, my dear, never doubt it for a second. It was clear sailing, in a manner of speaking, from here on. He set the autopilot and relaxed back in his seat. What else did you expect?

I don't know, she answered honestly, and he snorted.

Yeah. Well, you got what you wanted.

Maybe. I'd like to know more, though. I spaced the mundane, and you didn't blink.

Yes?

What about --

He frowned and cut her off. No.

She didn't even attempt to breach the subject again, and just let a slow smile spread over her face, settling back in her chair. They spent the rest of the trip in locked in their respective minds.

A loud rap on his door roused Jason from his slumber. Huh? Sounds like a hack writer's narrating my head. He yanked on a robe hurriedly and answered the door. "Hey, Al." Standing in the lamp light on the steps of the house, Bester blinked at him once before lowering his clenched hand from where it had been about to hit Jason on the nose.

"Jase. You're home."

Jason blinked at him and ran a hand through sandy hair. "Uhuh. You normally hammer on people's doors when they're not at home?"

"More often than not. Can I come in?"

Jason shrugged and waved a hand in a dismissive fashion. Bester took that as a yes and brushed past him, heading straight for Jason's sofa and making himself comfortable. He eyed Jason critically. "You planning on putting some pants on anytime soon, or do I assume that we're closer than I thought?"

Jason blinked at him, startled. Wha-- Oh. Yeah, sorry. Embarrassment coloured his thoughts a rosy pink. I shoulda checked if it was you, yeah? He headed for the bedroom to reclaim the soft slacks he'd tossed to the side the previous evening. A quick check of his watch informed that it was four in the morning. Obviously, Bester was still running on station time. Or Mars time. Or probably some weird combination. Or maybe he wants me half asleep.

Nope. If I wanted you off-guard, I would have brought the praying mantis girl with me. Bester called out to him.

On Jason's return to the living room, he found the psi cop fidgeting and staring with disbelief at the open curtains.

I take it the concept of privacy and modesty wasn't covered in your training course?

Jason sat down opposite him and smirked. No one here's fool enough to spy on me, Al. Keep your enemies closer, that sort of thing. You want a coffee?

Kill for one, thanks. At Jason's singular lack of movement, Bester grinned and headed for the kitchen to make the coffee. No one else would get away with this, you realise. I'd nail them to the wall.

Naaah, you're a teddy bear, Jason drew his feet up under him and reclined in his armchair. God, he was tired. 4am conversations didn't agree with him. With fangs, it has to be admitted, but a teddy bear none the less.

Uhuh. You want the rundown?

Jason closed his eyes. Yeah. Why don't you give me the rundown. Then I can toss your ass in the unofficial clink.

Bester stuck his head around the door. Dark eyes sparkled knowingly. Ah, but who else would put up with your sense of humour?

"Don't push it, Al," Jason warned quietly, reaching out for his cup of coffee. Whatever his faults, Bester could make a great cup of coffee. The heat of the liquid seeped through the thin china and warmed his cold hands. He fought the urge to curl his entire body around the cup.

Bester watched him, amused, and sat back down on the sofa. You're like a cat. All 'purr' and --

And what? You here for cute images?

The dark smile faded. Garibaldi's pretty bad.

That's to be expected. Jason inclined his head to one side, as if sizing up his companion. You sure that you're personal involvement isn't clouding the issue?

How, exactly? He's a mundane. End of story. But he'll figure it out eventually.... A frown surfaced, quickly suppressed in favour of a neutral expression, mirrored in his mindvoice. Bester was worried.

Will he? Jason's mindvoice was sharp and sly, slipping past Bester's defences. Dark eyes met blue ones and blinked, dazed. Obviously, this hadn't occurred to him. On his own, I seriously doubt it, Al. He's got nothing to go on, remember? This isn't exactly catalogued in any journals or reports.

Bester's worried frown returned. He's a good - I mean, he was a good Security Chief. He knew in what direction to go. And he has Lyta.

Jason snorted, derision written over his heavily tanned face. Yeah. Lyta. Who's a plastic thingy short of a six-pack.

Bester stared at him, his jaw dropping in mock shock. A plastic thingy? Uh - never mind. I don't want to know. Besides, gone or not, he'll trust her up to a point.

Jason fished in the drawer tucked underneath the nearby coffee table. He found a packet of cigarettes - an unfortunate vice, but one he had taken up when he had been in questionable company and hadn't been able to relinquish - and quickly lit up, oblivious to Bester's disgusted look. Exhaling smoke, he offered the packet to his fellow psi cop. And that point is?

Bester shook his head. No thanks. Can't stand the stuff myself. Psi Corps.

Huh?

I said the point is Psi Corps. If Lyta tells him that Psi Corps has messed with him some more, he's gonna do whatever he can to get to the bottom of it.

Jason shrugged and flicked ash with the tip of his finger. Al - uh, I don't mean to be rude, but why the hell does any of this matter? He can't do anything if you implanted the Asimov correctly, and I know you did. The only reason for you to be freaking out over this is if you're having some major moral crisis -- He raises an eyebrow. You're not having a major moral crisis I should know about, are you Al?

Quicksilver laughed rippled through him. Hardly. Not allowed in this line of work, remember? I'm just worried about what this will mean when he figures it out --

He couldn't resist. He starts to follow you around with a dopey expression on his face? He projected an image of Bester leading the esteemed Mr Garibaldi about on a leash, Garibaldi blue eyes crossed and his tongue hanging out.

That didn't even draw a smile. Don't.

Don't what? He stubbed out his cigarette and stood, stretching. Bester watched him with hooded eyes. Jason dropped down next to him on the couch. Don't what, Al? What the hell's the matter with you? He reached out a bare hand, letting it drop carefully on the sleeve of Bester's uniform jacket. You've been jumpy as hell these last few months. Are you regretting you let him go? We can --

No. Bester yanked his arm away and twisted to face him, eyes hard. No. I don't want that manufactured personality back, Jase. That's the whole point. If I did, I would have done this last bit myself. Why do you think I didn't huh? That I suddenly took pity?

Jason shrugged fluidly and leaned back, his expression calculating. Then why let him go? It's not policy. Either keep him under or kill him. Not let him have his life back, for Christ's sake! What if he talks? His mouth twisted down in a worried frown. I'm worried about you Al, seriously. This is sloppy --

It's closure, Bester corrected quietly. He pulled away completely and stood up, pacing restlessly in the small room. You want a straight answer? I was never going to keep him around. Baggage. Always checking up on him, always making sure the blocks were in place. Useless baggage when he'd served his purpose. So I let him go.

You could have killed him.

Messy. To have to kill someone just means showing the world that you've run out of creative options.

Jason laughed out loud. "Jesus Al. You watch too many old movies, you know that?" He fumbled with the lighter and the cigarette, sighing when he inhaled the strong substance again. You wanna know what I think?

Not really. But I have a feeling you're going to tell me anyway.

Wryness. You know me too well. I think he reminds you of you.

Bester blinked. Say again, Jase, I think you've lost your mind. He gave up pacing and leaned back against the mantelpiece, his arms folded over his chest. His uniform jacket wrinkled angrily over his chest and he winced as it dug into his injured shoulder.

Careful. I don't want you bleeding all over my new carpet. And - never mind. If you don't want to hear it, you don't want to hear it. It's all in the past anyway. Can't be undone - and you've made it clear you don't want things corrected. Jason rubbed a solitary finger along the bridge of his nose. A headache was starting to blossom, and knowing Al it would just get worse unless he capitulated quickly. What now? He asked tiredly.

Bester let his head fall back to rest against the wall. Now I fix him.

That easy, huh?

Not quite. But it's gotta be done.

Why? Why not just leave things as they are?

A quick shake of the dark head. You really don't get it, do you Jase? Don't underestimate him. He'll figure it out. And God knows what it'll do to the Asimov once he does. It might send him over the edge. We haven't had that happen before - no chance to, really. I've no desire to be guinea pig.

And if you fail? If his obsession gets out of hand....? There was a delicate probing at the edges of Bester's mind. He smiled coldly and reflect the probe.

Then I do what I must.

Jason eyed him dubiously, unimpressed by the bravado. Whatever. I'll leave it up to you. If he ends up on a leash, it'll be your fault. He stood and stretched. Bed? At Bester's somewhat startled look, he relented and smiled. I made up the spare bed for you before I turned in for the night.

You know me too well.

end chapter 4