It looked empty. Susan couldn't see anything that she'd left behind. Not that there'd be room for most of her possessions on her ship. Most of it was going into storage, she wouldn't have a lot of her things with her. But then that went with a starship, along with no fresh food and occasional gravity loss.
She opened the suitcase again, checking she had everything. Hair brush, Stat bars, Vodka, boots... Wait. The left boot was missing. Lucky she'd checked. She considered how embarrassing it would be to have to return to B5 four days later for a shoe. Well, technically that wasn't allowed. She'd have to play by the rules completely now. The amount of rules she'd bent in the past year and a half since breaking away from earth was quite high in numerical value. No more of that. No more shadows, Pak'ma'ra. Drazi fighting for colour orientated supremacy, no more Rangers needing Identi- cards. No more Marcus ... She stopped that line of thought. It would do her no good.
Checking under the bed she found the wayward shoe and seized it determinedly. Leave no shoes behind. That could be a fantastic motto...
Her random thoughts were smashed into by the door sounding. The noise seemed to bring back her headache. It'd been gone this morning! DAMN! With an undertone of annoyance she requested the door to open.
Michael stepped in. He was going to give her a chance to do this the easy way. But if not, he was prepared to be leaning towards unpleasant in this matter. As the old saying went, You have to be cruel to be kind.
"Hi." Michael greeted her far too pleasantly to be genuine, especially with the day he'd had. "You're still here then?"
"For about the next fifteen minutes." Susan informed him, pushing the lid on the suitcase down. It closed with a certain finality. It was probably the only time in living history a full suitcase had closed without having to be sat on. "I was checking I hadn't left anything behind."
"So..." He paced the room a little, before moving close to her. "...you're really going?"
"Michael-"She stated firmly, seeing this spiral into a heated argument. "I don't wanna have this discussion."
To Susan's surprise he backed away from the subject very quickly. Too quickly for her liking, leaving her with her guard up.
"O.k. It was just a question." He smiled warmly, genuinely. But she didn't feel comfortable around him anymore. She wasn't sure if this would be rectified with time or if it would always be awkward between them now. "I just came by to say, Y'know. I'll miss you."
"Thanks." Her acknowledgement was weak. Barely directed at him. Michael hated the rift that was now between them. He was doubly convinced that he was going to get hold of Bester and scoop out his eyeballs. But he knew that some things he just couldn't let go of...
"And to ask if you're stopping by med-lab on your way out."
Susan paused. That was no-one business but her own. Stephen had told Garibaldi. Why couldn't everyone just leave her alone about Marcus?
"Why would I want to go there?" She asked blankly, trying to cover all the emotion in her voice.
"You remember this Marcus guy?" Garibaldi retorted with extreme sarcasm. "The one who saved your ass?"
She sighed, trying to justify it to herself more than Michael. There was no way in hell she was telling Marcus now. He'd have to find out from someone else.
"I can't just... walk in there and say goodbye. It wouldn't be fair." That much was true, just who was it unfair to? Her or Marcus?
Smiling wryly, Susan turned on Garibaldi "Besides, when did you care so much about his feelings?"
"He's still a pain in the butt- but he cares a lot about you. That makes him Ok in my book."
Her eyes widened with partial amusement as he tried to salvage that statement without it appearing that he actually liked Marcus. He was way too left wing and idealistic, not to mention very vocal about his political beliefs.
"Well maybe not Ok...Tolerable?" He searched for the right word.
He concluded that this didn't seem to be working, and that he should let Susan get on with it. After all, it was her mistake to make. He wasn't going to stop her.
"Look, I don't wanna argue with you. I just wanna say Good Luck and write once in a while."
"Sure." She added half-heartedly before finding herself pulled into a bear- hug. She couldn't help but return the sentiment, and it wasn't very often Michael dared get this close physically.
He pulled away and stepped backward, briefly smiling. "I got a couple of things to take care of." He added before opening the door, then turning back. "So long."
"Goodbye Michael." She uttered quietly as he stepped through the door. She was alone, left with only one thing to do. But first she'd check under the bed again.
Outside, Garibaldi activated his link. After all, there was nothing HE could do.
"Garibaldi to med-lab. Could I please speak to Marcus Cole?"
Stephen was not having Marcus partake in his Steve McQueen impression again. He was not in the mood and he wasn't convinced Marcus should be leaving med-lab until at least tomorrow.
None the less, Marcus has successfully found his clothes and was virtually dressed by the time Stephen has been called in by the techs again. Marcus seemed in a great hurry to go as well. Had he found out?
"Wait a minute- where'd you think you're going?" Stephen asked, seeing that the Ranger was seething and had no intention of slowing down in the near future.
"I just got a call from Garibaldi telling me that Susan's leaving the station for good in ten minutes." He informed Stephen, tucking his shirt in before searching around for something. "I'll be damned if she goes without at least talking to me."
Neutrally, Stephen remained by the door. He didn't want to get too involved with this, but it would seem that Garibaldi had saved him from the news he had been dreading the most to give. "I told her to tell you but-"
Marcus turned on his heel, almost disbelieving that Franklin on all people had held out on him.
"You knew!" He cried out in disbelief, feeling a little betrayed. "Et Tu Stephen! Why the hell didn't you tell me?"
He searched under the bed for a moment before standing bolt upright and unleashing the anger he was harbouring on a slightly different subject matter.
"AND WHERE ARE MY SHOES?"
Deciding that Marcus was leaving regardless of his doctors opinion, Stephen crossed into the room and opened the door of a storage locker, before throwing Marcus a pair of boots.
He caught them and began to pull them onto his feet as quickly as he could possibly manage.
"Here," Stephen remarked reaching into the locker again. "You better take a link."
"Nope." He retorted firmly, pulling the boot over his ankle.
Franklin stood beside him, displeased that he was being un-cooperative again. "Why not?"
"Because, I wont wear the bloody thing that's why!" Marcus announced to the whole of med-lab as he laced up one boot. Stephen could see he was heading towards a rant. "Bad enough you lot wear them, no privacy, no chance to get away always at someone's beck and call."
Marcus stood and looked Stephen right in the eye, knowing that even in his hurry he'd have a problem getting away. Stephen grabbed his hand and scanned it, taking an I.D code for the link to fasten onto. "Why not put a leash around your neck and get it over with." Marcus continued, not content to be tagged like a wild animal. "It'd be faster and a good deal more honest."
Crossing over to the computer console, Stephen turned his back to Marcus and began to input the D.N.A. recognition sequence into the computer. "Suppose, something happens- what if you pass out?"
He punched in the last few symbols, preparing himself for a heated debate. "This isn't about being tracked," He began before turning. "It's about-"He turned to find Marcus had gone.
"Marcus? Dammit!"
She'd made it. Four years, two or three wars and several hospitalisations later- she'd done it. Ivanova was really leaving. The customs area was the same as ever, unknowing of the significance of this particular visit. This part of the station held a lot of memories for her; the goodbye to Jeff that she didn't know would be for a year and half, the rushed greeting she'd given John on his arrival. And now it was all over. Time to move on and get out alive while she still could.
She glanced around briefly, then without looking back she headed towards one of the customs officers. She had just placed down her suitcase and given over her identi-card when a sound she had been dreading and had very nearly escaped came hurtling through the door like a rabbit on stims.
"SUSAN!" Marcus yelled, half in gladness of seeing he hadn't indeed missed her, half so angry at her surreptitious departure he had a good mind to clout her around the head to knock some bloody sense into her.
He semi-doubled over panting, knowing that running the distance had indeed been a foolish escapade, yet a necessary one. He simply glared at her for a moment, while the fifty people in customs watched with great interest as to the unfolding events.
With great reluctance, Susan took her identi-card off the guard and walked over to where Marcus was half-standing. Whoever had tipped him off was cruising for a bruising.
After a moment, Marcus attempted to express his distress at her imminent departure. Or to put it another way, he was mad as hell, but also quite out of breath.
"...you're...you're going...you were just going to leave without even telling me?" He finally got out, his displeasure at this, obvious through his tone of voice. "...what was the plan...send a postcard en route?"
"I tried to tell you, but it just didn't seem fair." Ivanova replied, pulling him by the elbow to a more discreet area of customs.
"As Mr Garibaldi would put it...horse-hockey!" Marcus retorted, shaking her hand off his arm and raising his voice. In his opinion, the term he used was a little too polite.
"I meant to, I really did." Susan defended herself, sticking to that belief. Marcus seemed to be a strange mix of being completely furious at her, yet had come to ask her to stay. This was probably going to be one of the more interesting negotiations of her career.
"I thought about leaving you a note..." She added, before he interrupted harshly.
"Let me guess. It starts "Dear John,"
"No," She replied, hardening her voice to match his. "It's starts with Dear Marcus."
He paused for a moment, before smiling and chuckling slightly. Ivanova somehow smiled as well, and for a split second, things were alright between them.
"Look," She finally began, realising that a more civilized and mature conversation could take place now Marcus was no longer on an angry rampage. "I've been here for four years now, I think I need a change of pace."
"Doesn't that apply to being Captain here?" The Ranger asked, deadly serious now. The only problem Ivanova found was that she could never believe he was entirely serious about anything.
"I always wanted to command a star ship." She retorted, before seeing some of the more eccentric wheels of Marcus mind turn to find an appropriate reply.
"You can have a white star!" He came out with much too seriously.
"I can't change my mind now, what am I supposed to say- "Sorry General, but I like it here better."
Susan had knowing walked into that one. She should have known better.
"Ah ha!" Marcus pointed victoriously, "You like it here better!"
Her brow furrowed, feeling annoyance at Marcus self assured manner that he could argue his way into or out of anything, and also that he was right. "The point is it'd be very inconvenient." She concluded with gritted teeth.
"So would having a new captain that no-one trusts or knows. It'd disrupt efficiency, they wouldn't get half the weird stuff that goes on around here..." He made points that were valid, amazing given he'd had only minutes to formulate this argument that Susan had been working on for the best part of a week.
"Marcus..." She shook her head, wondering somewhere why he felt it was so important that she stay, other than the obvious. She refused to believe he would come running with an argument just to throw another "I love you," at her.
"- why are you here?" She asked.
He paused for a moment, mulling it over before he replied.
"To stop you doing something you'll regret immensely. You didn't want to tell me because you don't want to admit to yourself you're going."
He was clever. Too clever. He was far too right for her own liking. She wanted out of the conversation and off the station.
"I'm sorry Marcus..." She replied before picking up her case again. "I don't have time."
He stepped in front of her, not blocking her way per say, but making her confront him directly. "Well you asked!" He replied, showing her that her problems lay within herself more than with him.
"Are you unhappy here? Lonely? Bored?" He queried, seeing no significant reply from Susan. She remained silent.
"Didn't think so." He added, seeing that he had put her into an odd spiral of thought. "So what is it? What do you want?"
"I...I don't know." She stammered out quickly before considering the question. "I really don't."
"There's nothing you'll find out there that isn't right here- except for your friends." Marcus pointed out, trying to sound profound.
"Why didn't they try and stop me?" She asked, not completely convinced of that argument.
"Look you..." he searched for a word with the right level of offensiveness but failed after consideration that he liked his face in its current format. He recomposed himself and tried again. "They did. You just weren't listening." Filtered out through semi-gritted teeth.
For a moment she considered, and Marcus thought that he might have won her over this time. Eventually though, she shook her head and replied.
"Marcus I can't stay."
Pushing down his exasperation and the feeling he was running around in circles he stayed calm. He was still working on patience after all this time.
"Why?" He asked curtly, but not in an abrasive manner.
"Because I have a knack for loosing those I care about." She began, no more evasiveness. No more duty to hide behind. Only the truth. "Because I don't want to see this new alliance fail- and because I don't want to loose their friendship."
Those were sound points, but she still seemed to be holding something back. Marcus couldn't think what, but the excuses she had given sounded like poor reasoning for her. She wouldn't run away because it was easier than facing up to events. Or at least she wouldn't if leaving were made more trouble than staying.
"In the end I can't make you." He stated, before kneeling in front of her. "I can only plea."
"Don't do that." She commanded to no avail.
He intoned one word to her, his eyes unforgiving and determined to prove that he never gave in until he got what he wanted. "Stay."
"Get up!" She hissed realising the attention that was being drawn to them.
"Not until you stop running. If you wont do this for yourself...stay for Sheridan, Delenn... even me."
This was embarrassing. She now had the whole of customs looking at her again, and Marcus doing his chivalry impression wasn't helping. She didn't know if it were the pressure of the audience watching them, or the fact that she was now convinced she should take the course of action that prompted her next move.
"I'm gonna regret this." She mumbled dropping her suitcase in front of him.
"You mean You'll stay?" A smile spread across his face as she sighed, completely exasperated at this man. He got up and picked up her suitcase.
Susan eyed him venomously, displeased that she had let him get his way and that she didn't know how much pleading John would have to do to get her posted back here. It was do-able, but would be a pain in the ass for all concerned. Considering however that John had been subtly asking her to stay he was probably ready for her to change her mind.
She turned to Marcus irately and began to speak in a harsh tone to him. "You know that you're a complete utter son-of-a-"
Susan's train of though was interrupted as she saw Corwin coming through customs with the new C:O walking not far behind him.
"No, no. Well actually... yes." He attempted to explain as he walked, not too sure what to make of his new Captain. "It's, it's hectic Ma'am."
"Well, a Hectic station is the first sigh of a poorly run station." Lockley spoke rather loudly looking around.
Ivanovas' face changed to a look of absolute fury. Marcus had thought he'd seen her angry before, but Lockley had well and truly pissed her off without even speaking to her. As Susan stepped forward and into the conversation. Marcus prayed that this wouldn't get physical, because he was buggered if was intervening.
"We'll change th-"Lockley began, before a tall woman dressed in a uniform that wasn't Earth Force stepped forward, followed by a man who was dressed in a Minbari style of clothing.
"Excuse me." Susan began, attempting to keep her anger controlled and to maintain politeness. "Did you just use the words "poorly run"?"
"Well..." Lockley began, bewildered at the interruption of this officer, before she was once again interrupted.
"I thought so." Ivanova stated turning to Marcus for a moment. He rolled his eyes feeling another "Right hand of vengeance" moment coming on. "Lockley is it?" Susan asked.
"Yes. But..."
Ivanova jumped in again, looking most displeased but still not raising her voice. Corwin looked to Marcus, Who looked more to be enjoying this, than nervous around a proverbially boiling over Ivanova.
"You see," She began, now redrawing the audience at customs she had so badly not wanted a moment ago. "I've spent the last few years virtually running this place and this is not hectic. Infact, hectic was when we were defending this place from our own carrier groups, hectic was when we where fighting a hopeless war against impossible odds," She smiled at Lockley with and element of danger behind her eyes. "...which I add- we won!"
"I'm sorry, I-"Lockley tried to apologise but found that she wasn't given an inch to recover her mistake.
"You see, over the last few years I've taken the time to establish one fact." She paused, pacing her speech exactly. "That this is MY station. Watch now: MY station," she announced before pointing upward.
"MY sign,"
She turned to Marcus and gestured.
"MY suitcase,"
She then turned to Marcus again and gave a final gesture "MY Ranger!"
Lockley stood, somewhere between mortified and bewildered as Ivanova turned back to her and continued.
"Now get your bad-mannered ass off MY station before MY boot kicks YOUR ass out of MY airlock!"
Suddenly, she smiled sweetly and turned to Corwin, who didn't know what to make of this. "David, make sure none of my luggage gets loaded." She instructed in very friendly tones. God she enjoyed that.
"Yes Ma'am." David got out, as she walked away, unsure what to do with Captain Lockley who had not been expecting that welcome.
"Y'know," Marcus began as they walked away. "This could be the start of a beautiful friendship."
A little surreal I know, but from a show where Vorlons were angels, Security chiefs had motorbikes and Walter Koenig was EVIL- I think there's nothing wrong with a little of this! Hope you enjoyed...
Crazy Ranger
She opened the suitcase again, checking she had everything. Hair brush, Stat bars, Vodka, boots... Wait. The left boot was missing. Lucky she'd checked. She considered how embarrassing it would be to have to return to B5 four days later for a shoe. Well, technically that wasn't allowed. She'd have to play by the rules completely now. The amount of rules she'd bent in the past year and a half since breaking away from earth was quite high in numerical value. No more of that. No more shadows, Pak'ma'ra. Drazi fighting for colour orientated supremacy, no more Rangers needing Identi- cards. No more Marcus ... She stopped that line of thought. It would do her no good.
Checking under the bed she found the wayward shoe and seized it determinedly. Leave no shoes behind. That could be a fantastic motto...
Her random thoughts were smashed into by the door sounding. The noise seemed to bring back her headache. It'd been gone this morning! DAMN! With an undertone of annoyance she requested the door to open.
Michael stepped in. He was going to give her a chance to do this the easy way. But if not, he was prepared to be leaning towards unpleasant in this matter. As the old saying went, You have to be cruel to be kind.
"Hi." Michael greeted her far too pleasantly to be genuine, especially with the day he'd had. "You're still here then?"
"For about the next fifteen minutes." Susan informed him, pushing the lid on the suitcase down. It closed with a certain finality. It was probably the only time in living history a full suitcase had closed without having to be sat on. "I was checking I hadn't left anything behind."
"So..." He paced the room a little, before moving close to her. "...you're really going?"
"Michael-"She stated firmly, seeing this spiral into a heated argument. "I don't wanna have this discussion."
To Susan's surprise he backed away from the subject very quickly. Too quickly for her liking, leaving her with her guard up.
"O.k. It was just a question." He smiled warmly, genuinely. But she didn't feel comfortable around him anymore. She wasn't sure if this would be rectified with time or if it would always be awkward between them now. "I just came by to say, Y'know. I'll miss you."
"Thanks." Her acknowledgement was weak. Barely directed at him. Michael hated the rift that was now between them. He was doubly convinced that he was going to get hold of Bester and scoop out his eyeballs. But he knew that some things he just couldn't let go of...
"And to ask if you're stopping by med-lab on your way out."
Susan paused. That was no-one business but her own. Stephen had told Garibaldi. Why couldn't everyone just leave her alone about Marcus?
"Why would I want to go there?" She asked blankly, trying to cover all the emotion in her voice.
"You remember this Marcus guy?" Garibaldi retorted with extreme sarcasm. "The one who saved your ass?"
She sighed, trying to justify it to herself more than Michael. There was no way in hell she was telling Marcus now. He'd have to find out from someone else.
"I can't just... walk in there and say goodbye. It wouldn't be fair." That much was true, just who was it unfair to? Her or Marcus?
Smiling wryly, Susan turned on Garibaldi "Besides, when did you care so much about his feelings?"
"He's still a pain in the butt- but he cares a lot about you. That makes him Ok in my book."
Her eyes widened with partial amusement as he tried to salvage that statement without it appearing that he actually liked Marcus. He was way too left wing and idealistic, not to mention very vocal about his political beliefs.
"Well maybe not Ok...Tolerable?" He searched for the right word.
He concluded that this didn't seem to be working, and that he should let Susan get on with it. After all, it was her mistake to make. He wasn't going to stop her.
"Look, I don't wanna argue with you. I just wanna say Good Luck and write once in a while."
"Sure." She added half-heartedly before finding herself pulled into a bear- hug. She couldn't help but return the sentiment, and it wasn't very often Michael dared get this close physically.
He pulled away and stepped backward, briefly smiling. "I got a couple of things to take care of." He added before opening the door, then turning back. "So long."
"Goodbye Michael." She uttered quietly as he stepped through the door. She was alone, left with only one thing to do. But first she'd check under the bed again.
Outside, Garibaldi activated his link. After all, there was nothing HE could do.
"Garibaldi to med-lab. Could I please speak to Marcus Cole?"
Stephen was not having Marcus partake in his Steve McQueen impression again. He was not in the mood and he wasn't convinced Marcus should be leaving med-lab until at least tomorrow.
None the less, Marcus has successfully found his clothes and was virtually dressed by the time Stephen has been called in by the techs again. Marcus seemed in a great hurry to go as well. Had he found out?
"Wait a minute- where'd you think you're going?" Stephen asked, seeing that the Ranger was seething and had no intention of slowing down in the near future.
"I just got a call from Garibaldi telling me that Susan's leaving the station for good in ten minutes." He informed Stephen, tucking his shirt in before searching around for something. "I'll be damned if she goes without at least talking to me."
Neutrally, Stephen remained by the door. He didn't want to get too involved with this, but it would seem that Garibaldi had saved him from the news he had been dreading the most to give. "I told her to tell you but-"
Marcus turned on his heel, almost disbelieving that Franklin on all people had held out on him.
"You knew!" He cried out in disbelief, feeling a little betrayed. "Et Tu Stephen! Why the hell didn't you tell me?"
He searched under the bed for a moment before standing bolt upright and unleashing the anger he was harbouring on a slightly different subject matter.
"AND WHERE ARE MY SHOES?"
Deciding that Marcus was leaving regardless of his doctors opinion, Stephen crossed into the room and opened the door of a storage locker, before throwing Marcus a pair of boots.
He caught them and began to pull them onto his feet as quickly as he could possibly manage.
"Here," Stephen remarked reaching into the locker again. "You better take a link."
"Nope." He retorted firmly, pulling the boot over his ankle.
Franklin stood beside him, displeased that he was being un-cooperative again. "Why not?"
"Because, I wont wear the bloody thing that's why!" Marcus announced to the whole of med-lab as he laced up one boot. Stephen could see he was heading towards a rant. "Bad enough you lot wear them, no privacy, no chance to get away always at someone's beck and call."
Marcus stood and looked Stephen right in the eye, knowing that even in his hurry he'd have a problem getting away. Stephen grabbed his hand and scanned it, taking an I.D code for the link to fasten onto. "Why not put a leash around your neck and get it over with." Marcus continued, not content to be tagged like a wild animal. "It'd be faster and a good deal more honest."
Crossing over to the computer console, Stephen turned his back to Marcus and began to input the D.N.A. recognition sequence into the computer. "Suppose, something happens- what if you pass out?"
He punched in the last few symbols, preparing himself for a heated debate. "This isn't about being tracked," He began before turning. "It's about-"He turned to find Marcus had gone.
"Marcus? Dammit!"
She'd made it. Four years, two or three wars and several hospitalisations later- she'd done it. Ivanova was really leaving. The customs area was the same as ever, unknowing of the significance of this particular visit. This part of the station held a lot of memories for her; the goodbye to Jeff that she didn't know would be for a year and half, the rushed greeting she'd given John on his arrival. And now it was all over. Time to move on and get out alive while she still could.
She glanced around briefly, then without looking back she headed towards one of the customs officers. She had just placed down her suitcase and given over her identi-card when a sound she had been dreading and had very nearly escaped came hurtling through the door like a rabbit on stims.
"SUSAN!" Marcus yelled, half in gladness of seeing he hadn't indeed missed her, half so angry at her surreptitious departure he had a good mind to clout her around the head to knock some bloody sense into her.
He semi-doubled over panting, knowing that running the distance had indeed been a foolish escapade, yet a necessary one. He simply glared at her for a moment, while the fifty people in customs watched with great interest as to the unfolding events.
With great reluctance, Susan took her identi-card off the guard and walked over to where Marcus was half-standing. Whoever had tipped him off was cruising for a bruising.
After a moment, Marcus attempted to express his distress at her imminent departure. Or to put it another way, he was mad as hell, but also quite out of breath.
"...you're...you're going...you were just going to leave without even telling me?" He finally got out, his displeasure at this, obvious through his tone of voice. "...what was the plan...send a postcard en route?"
"I tried to tell you, but it just didn't seem fair." Ivanova replied, pulling him by the elbow to a more discreet area of customs.
"As Mr Garibaldi would put it...horse-hockey!" Marcus retorted, shaking her hand off his arm and raising his voice. In his opinion, the term he used was a little too polite.
"I meant to, I really did." Susan defended herself, sticking to that belief. Marcus seemed to be a strange mix of being completely furious at her, yet had come to ask her to stay. This was probably going to be one of the more interesting negotiations of her career.
"I thought about leaving you a note..." She added, before he interrupted harshly.
"Let me guess. It starts "Dear John,"
"No," She replied, hardening her voice to match his. "It's starts with Dear Marcus."
He paused for a moment, before smiling and chuckling slightly. Ivanova somehow smiled as well, and for a split second, things were alright between them.
"Look," She finally began, realising that a more civilized and mature conversation could take place now Marcus was no longer on an angry rampage. "I've been here for four years now, I think I need a change of pace."
"Doesn't that apply to being Captain here?" The Ranger asked, deadly serious now. The only problem Ivanova found was that she could never believe he was entirely serious about anything.
"I always wanted to command a star ship." She retorted, before seeing some of the more eccentric wheels of Marcus mind turn to find an appropriate reply.
"You can have a white star!" He came out with much too seriously.
"I can't change my mind now, what am I supposed to say- "Sorry General, but I like it here better."
Susan had knowing walked into that one. She should have known better.
"Ah ha!" Marcus pointed victoriously, "You like it here better!"
Her brow furrowed, feeling annoyance at Marcus self assured manner that he could argue his way into or out of anything, and also that he was right. "The point is it'd be very inconvenient." She concluded with gritted teeth.
"So would having a new captain that no-one trusts or knows. It'd disrupt efficiency, they wouldn't get half the weird stuff that goes on around here..." He made points that were valid, amazing given he'd had only minutes to formulate this argument that Susan had been working on for the best part of a week.
"Marcus..." She shook her head, wondering somewhere why he felt it was so important that she stay, other than the obvious. She refused to believe he would come running with an argument just to throw another "I love you," at her.
"- why are you here?" She asked.
He paused for a moment, mulling it over before he replied.
"To stop you doing something you'll regret immensely. You didn't want to tell me because you don't want to admit to yourself you're going."
He was clever. Too clever. He was far too right for her own liking. She wanted out of the conversation and off the station.
"I'm sorry Marcus..." She replied before picking up her case again. "I don't have time."
He stepped in front of her, not blocking her way per say, but making her confront him directly. "Well you asked!" He replied, showing her that her problems lay within herself more than with him.
"Are you unhappy here? Lonely? Bored?" He queried, seeing no significant reply from Susan. She remained silent.
"Didn't think so." He added, seeing that he had put her into an odd spiral of thought. "So what is it? What do you want?"
"I...I don't know." She stammered out quickly before considering the question. "I really don't."
"There's nothing you'll find out there that isn't right here- except for your friends." Marcus pointed out, trying to sound profound.
"Why didn't they try and stop me?" She asked, not completely convinced of that argument.
"Look you..." he searched for a word with the right level of offensiveness but failed after consideration that he liked his face in its current format. He recomposed himself and tried again. "They did. You just weren't listening." Filtered out through semi-gritted teeth.
For a moment she considered, and Marcus thought that he might have won her over this time. Eventually though, she shook her head and replied.
"Marcus I can't stay."
Pushing down his exasperation and the feeling he was running around in circles he stayed calm. He was still working on patience after all this time.
"Why?" He asked curtly, but not in an abrasive manner.
"Because I have a knack for loosing those I care about." She began, no more evasiveness. No more duty to hide behind. Only the truth. "Because I don't want to see this new alliance fail- and because I don't want to loose their friendship."
Those were sound points, but she still seemed to be holding something back. Marcus couldn't think what, but the excuses she had given sounded like poor reasoning for her. She wouldn't run away because it was easier than facing up to events. Or at least she wouldn't if leaving were made more trouble than staying.
"In the end I can't make you." He stated, before kneeling in front of her. "I can only plea."
"Don't do that." She commanded to no avail.
He intoned one word to her, his eyes unforgiving and determined to prove that he never gave in until he got what he wanted. "Stay."
"Get up!" She hissed realising the attention that was being drawn to them.
"Not until you stop running. If you wont do this for yourself...stay for Sheridan, Delenn... even me."
This was embarrassing. She now had the whole of customs looking at her again, and Marcus doing his chivalry impression wasn't helping. She didn't know if it were the pressure of the audience watching them, or the fact that she was now convinced she should take the course of action that prompted her next move.
"I'm gonna regret this." She mumbled dropping her suitcase in front of him.
"You mean You'll stay?" A smile spread across his face as she sighed, completely exasperated at this man. He got up and picked up her suitcase.
Susan eyed him venomously, displeased that she had let him get his way and that she didn't know how much pleading John would have to do to get her posted back here. It was do-able, but would be a pain in the ass for all concerned. Considering however that John had been subtly asking her to stay he was probably ready for her to change her mind.
She turned to Marcus irately and began to speak in a harsh tone to him. "You know that you're a complete utter son-of-a-"
Susan's train of though was interrupted as she saw Corwin coming through customs with the new C:O walking not far behind him.
"No, no. Well actually... yes." He attempted to explain as he walked, not too sure what to make of his new Captain. "It's, it's hectic Ma'am."
"Well, a Hectic station is the first sigh of a poorly run station." Lockley spoke rather loudly looking around.
Ivanovas' face changed to a look of absolute fury. Marcus had thought he'd seen her angry before, but Lockley had well and truly pissed her off without even speaking to her. As Susan stepped forward and into the conversation. Marcus prayed that this wouldn't get physical, because he was buggered if was intervening.
"We'll change th-"Lockley began, before a tall woman dressed in a uniform that wasn't Earth Force stepped forward, followed by a man who was dressed in a Minbari style of clothing.
"Excuse me." Susan began, attempting to keep her anger controlled and to maintain politeness. "Did you just use the words "poorly run"?"
"Well..." Lockley began, bewildered at the interruption of this officer, before she was once again interrupted.
"I thought so." Ivanova stated turning to Marcus for a moment. He rolled his eyes feeling another "Right hand of vengeance" moment coming on. "Lockley is it?" Susan asked.
"Yes. But..."
Ivanova jumped in again, looking most displeased but still not raising her voice. Corwin looked to Marcus, Who looked more to be enjoying this, than nervous around a proverbially boiling over Ivanova.
"You see," She began, now redrawing the audience at customs she had so badly not wanted a moment ago. "I've spent the last few years virtually running this place and this is not hectic. Infact, hectic was when we were defending this place from our own carrier groups, hectic was when we where fighting a hopeless war against impossible odds," She smiled at Lockley with and element of danger behind her eyes. "...which I add- we won!"
"I'm sorry, I-"Lockley tried to apologise but found that she wasn't given an inch to recover her mistake.
"You see, over the last few years I've taken the time to establish one fact." She paused, pacing her speech exactly. "That this is MY station. Watch now: MY station," she announced before pointing upward.
"MY sign,"
She turned to Marcus and gestured.
"MY suitcase,"
She then turned to Marcus again and gave a final gesture "MY Ranger!"
Lockley stood, somewhere between mortified and bewildered as Ivanova turned back to her and continued.
"Now get your bad-mannered ass off MY station before MY boot kicks YOUR ass out of MY airlock!"
Suddenly, she smiled sweetly and turned to Corwin, who didn't know what to make of this. "David, make sure none of my luggage gets loaded." She instructed in very friendly tones. God she enjoyed that.
"Yes Ma'am." David got out, as she walked away, unsure what to do with Captain Lockley who had not been expecting that welcome.
"Y'know," Marcus began as they walked away. "This could be the start of a beautiful friendship."
A little surreal I know, but from a show where Vorlons were angels, Security chiefs had motorbikes and Walter Koenig was EVIL- I think there's nothing wrong with a little of this! Hope you enjoyed...
Crazy Ranger