Chapter 7 Fragile aliance

Thanks very much for the reviews. It's good to see people still interested in this story . Here's the next chapter then. The same disclaimers apply, of course. Enjoy!

Zocalo

Sam and Dean could not see Delenn that day as she was in a trade negotiation until late in the evening. They decided to wait and approach her the next morning, right after the Babylon 5 Council Session of the day. As the session was broadcasted, Sam actually wanted to watch it and learn more about the state of things before approaching the Minbari ambassador. Predictably, Dean declared he was going to pass this no doubt informative activity and engage in a more suitable past-time (such as visiting the casinos and finding out how many aliens he could swindle). Sam let him go. They both needed the money and Sam did not need Dean's endless commentaries he was bound to start if he was forced to watch the council session. So Sam found a place in the Zocalo from where he could watch the broadcast, ordered something that was supposed to be coffee and began his fact-finding mission.

When Dean returned with a victorious grin on his face, Sam was still at it. The meeting had not finished – even though it had lasted half an hour longer than the agenda had announced. But it was, apparently, a very hectic day. The League of Non-Alligned words were all cranky and on edge and they did not seem to agree on anything. They let their disagreements be known quite verbally. G'kar was no better, ranting in his booming voice whenever he could about what would happen to all of them if they did not aid the Narns in the battle with the Centauri. Londo, of course, was defending himself just as verbally – albeit more shrilly – gesticulating wildly in order to drive his point home. All in all, it did not look like the council was having a very god day.

"And this is supposed to be the ultimate place of peace and diplomacy," Dean muttered sarcastically ten seconds after he had sat down besides Sam and noticed what was taking place on the screen.

Sam sighed.

"Let's just say everyone's a little tense," he declared non-committal.

Dean scoffed. He wondered if Sam's penchant for understatement was genetic or whether it was a defence mechanism Sam had formed out after all the crap he had been through.

"If that's how they look when they're a bit tense I'd hate to see how they're like when they're really pissed off about something," he said.

"I think that's when they stop negotiating and start blowing things up," Sam deadpanned.

It was amazing, Dean thought, that Sam was able to carry that conversation without looking away from the broadcast even once.

"All right," Dean said, settling more comfortably in his chair. "Let's hear it. What have you learned about Delenn? What can you tell from the way she's behaving in session?"

This time Sam did look away from the screen briefly. He cast his brother a confused glance.

"You really want to know?" he asked uncertainly.

He saw Dean hesitate as if he did not really want to admit the next part.

"Oh, well," Dean said at length. "I remembered something from a few years back…when I came to get you from college. There was this book in the living room – something about The Art of Seeing beyond Political Speeches or some other geeky name like that. It looked well read and when I opened it, I saw your dorky handwriting all over it. So I figured you might still remember some of that, if you were that into it a few years back."

Sam honestly did not know what surprised him and took him aback most: the fact that Dean had admitted to paying attention so much to the book that he remembered the title more than six years after the event, or that he actually fessed up to touching it and even browsing through it enough to see the annotations (Sam knew there had not been as many of them as Dean seemed to claim). And there was also the fact that Dean was actually deferring to him in this matter. For a moment Sam wondered whether he should check if it really was Dean. In their line of work, one could never know.

"Should I get the holy water?" he asked only half joking.

Dean gave an exasperated huff.

"Shut up," he retorted. "And answer the damn question already."

Refraining himself from pointing out the impossibility of following Dean's latest instruction to the letter, Sam proceeded to give his brother the information he had so unexpectedly requested.

"From what I can tell, Delenn's the mediator type," he explained to Dean. "She's very careful not to start conflicts and very eager to solve those that do arrive. She tries to listen to all sides of an argument and I haven't heard her jump to conclusions so far. All in all she's pretty reasonable."

"What, for a Minbari, you mean?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head.

"Actually I was thinking for someone in her position," he corrected. "Another point: she does make every effort imaginable to make the Council work – and make Babylon 5 work too, implicitly. I think if we tell her the thing we're looking for could compromise what this station stands for, she won't hesitate to help us."

"All right," Dean muttered not very convinced. "You're the one good at this - you tell her."

Sam did not answer, his attention once more on the screen. This time, Dean followed suit. He was not looking at Delenn, though, but at the fourth player of the Babylon 5 political scene: the commander of the station, Captain John Sheridan. Earth's representative in the Council.

There were many things to be said about John Sheridan. He had been well-known and liked even before the Minbari War. His exploits in the war, though, had elevated him to the status of hero. There was no one on Earth or its colonies who did not know what his name meant. Dean remembered he had heard it plenty of times during the year he had spent with Lisa. Ben adored John Sheridan, declaring more than once that he wanted to be exactly like him when he grew up. There was even an interactive game in which the player was John Sheridan and had to shoot the Minbari war ship. Lisa had point blank refused to buy Ben the game, claiming it was too violent for his age and Ben had turned to Dean. At the time, though, the only thing Dean could think of was how much Sam would have hated a game like that and had sided with Lisa on the matter.

Dean could not help wondering if the man who had so ingeniously and ruthlessly outwitted the Minabri during the war was the same as the one who now sat in the Council Chamber working side by side with a Minabri for the good and peace of the galaxy (as they all claimed). Granted, Sheridan appeared to Dean as competent in what he was doing now as he surely had been during the war. And yet, Dean would never have pegged Sheridan as someone eager to follow the path of diplomacy.

"I wonder how they stand it," he mused.

"How who stands what?" Sam asked distractedly without turning to look at his brother.

"Sheridan and Delenn," Dean answered. "I wonder how they stand working together. I mean he's Minbari enemy number one and she's…well, she's Minbari...was Minbari. Hell knows what she's supposed to be now"

"It's politics, Dean," Sam replied calmly. "You either learn not to take it personally or you might as well quit the game completely. Besides – I think you should have seen the entire council session. You look long enough at them, you realise they stand each other just fine."

Dean scoffed.

"That must have been a really boring council session, if you've spent it wondering about the love lives of its members," he commented.

The session had ended and the broadcast was interrupted. Sam made to get up, but Dean stopped him.

"It'll take her about ten minutes to get back to her quarters," he pointed out. "Let's give her twenty so she can catch her breath."

Once more, Sam was tempted to reach for the holy water.

"Since when did you care about her catching her breath?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Hey, I ain't going anywhere near someone who's walked out of that circus until they had a chance to cool down," Dean protested. "Especially not when I'm unarmed."

After five more minutes the two brothers got up to leave. As they were navigating their way through the usual crowd, Sam accidentally bumped into a man. He got out of his way with an absent "sorry, man", and walked on. He did not turn around to see the other looking after them, or notice his eyes flash black for an instant.

The demon stared after the two. He knew who they were. He had not seen them before, though. Few of his kind who saw the Winchesters lived long after that. But few of his kind also would have been unable to recognise the Winchesters when they saw them.

Their presence there worried him. Why were they there? They had to be looking for the same thing he was. Which meant he had to move fast. He had to get to the talisman before the Winchesters did. Even if he had to tear the station apart to do so.

Delenn's quarters

Dean and Sam reached the ambassador's quarters and Dean lost no time in ringing the bell and announcing promptly:

"Ambassador, it's Sam and Dean Winchester, we've come to talk to you."

Sam cast Dean an uneasy glance. Apparently, his brother thought that, since Sam had come up with such a crazy plan, Dean had no choice but to execute it in an equally crazy and reckless style. In some manner, Sam was pleased that Dean was now with him all the way and no longer opposing the idea of consulting Delenn. Still, Sam himself would have at least waited until they were inside the Ambassador's quarters before announcing their true identities so readily.

Reckless or not, though, Dean's words had the desire effect. The door was promptly opened and they were allowed to step in. Delenn was waiting for them, her eyes alert and somewhat curious. Despite all that, there was no hint of surprise in them, as if she had expected the two to come back to her all along. The idea that she had been able to predict their answers angered Dean.

"This was not my idea," he said by way of greeting. "And this does not mean I trust you."

Sam cleared his throat uneasily. He had expected some belligerence from Dean, but he had still hoped he would refrain himself from antagonizing Delenn the minute they had walked through the door. The only good thing was that Delenn did not look offended yet.

"Don't worry, Mr Winchester," she replied calmly. "I have no illusions about you trusting me so quickly. The likes of you see hidden motives and betrayals in every gesture. I imagine the people you trust are few and far between. And I'm sorry about that."

It was Dean's turn to feel uneasy. He always got on the defensive when someone was taking that line with him. Now was no exception and if anything, it angered him even more that a Minbari was claiming she was sorry for him.

Sam cleared his throat again. He realised it was time he interfered before Dean said something they might all regret.

"Ambassador," Sam began. "We know how coming to you under a false identity looks like. But you must understand that this is how we usually operate. It would be too risky for us to do otherwise. Most of the people do not even understand what we do – they certainly do not believe it."

"I am not sure I understand or believe it, either," Delenn admitted. "At least not the way you believe it and understand it."

"But you'll help us, right?" Sam prodded hopefully. "After all, you as much as told Dean that if he admitted who we really were you'll help us."

"Well, that's the interpretation Sammy got out of what I told him you said," Dean felt the need to point out. "To be fair, what I heard was a little different."

Delenn did not say anything to that. She looked at the two, remembering what the distressed Markab had told her about them – and then what Kullenbrak had said. She realised that in a way they had both been right – they were dangerous, they were capable of breaking the world, yet they were capable of keeping it together also. And that was a fascinating notion.

Kullenbrak had told Delenn that there was a darkness within the two brothers and Delenn knew that was true. She had seen it in Dean the first time he came to her. She could see it in Sam as well. The two were young – and yet there was something about them that made them look so old. Delenn could almost glimpse it in their eyes. Humans said eyes were windows to the soul. If that was true, then their souls looked ancient and worn out. What they had been through, Delenn had no idea. She doubted that she would have even been able to understand, if she had known. She doubted that anyone would have understood.

But even more intriguing was the way the two brothers acted around each other. Their differences in opinions and personality were obvious. Despite them, they made a common front. The way they stood side by side showed that clearly. They were ready to face whatever the universe had to throw at them – together.

"Tell me what you need from me," Delenn finally said.

She had an inkling that she should help Sam and Dean from the start. Now, however, she was convinced helping them was imperative.

"There's a man in the Zocalo," Sam said. "Walks with a limp, always keeps his face hidden. He sells things – things he claims give great power to those who use them."

"I know about him," Delenn said. "But Minbari do not buy anything from him."

"Well, what we've heard is that he will not sell to Minbari up front," Dean corrected. "People believe he messed up his leg during the war with you."

Delenn returned Dean's look with a challenging one of her own.

"Or he could have been injured while stealing one of those objects he sells," she pointed out. "And he only pretends to have been wounded during the war to cover his steps – refusing to deal with our people directly because that would expose him."

To Delenn's surprise, Dean actually nodded.

"Yeah, we think so too," he agreed. "Which is why we are going to tell him that you want to buy something from him and if he gets a way to ask you if it's true you're going to back us up. And, since, your kind supposedly does not lie, I suppose you'll also have to deal with whatever financial transactions our friend might want in exchange. That way you won't be lying if asked whether you are buying the talisman and your conscience will be clear on that matter, Ambassador."

Delenn listened to Dean's orders without betraying anything of what went on in her head. If anything, she only looked faintly amused.

"And what exactly is this talisman, Mr Winchester?" she inquired in the end. "What can it gain me that I want it badly enough to resort to such subterfuges?"

Sam and Dean exchanged worried looks. They had not agreed on actually telling Delenn what the talisman was supposed to do – or that the place might have been teeming with potential buyers. But they knew they had to tell her something – or risk losing the deal.

"We can't say much, Ambassador," Sam began. "All we can tell you is that the talisman is dangerous. It could have catastrophic effects on the station. Already someone might have been killed because of it. Now, I've heard and seen enough of you, Ambassador. I know you care for Babylon 5. Don't help us for us – why would you? You don't even know us. But help us for the station. Please."

"Help us get the talisman," Dean completed. "Then I promise you, we'll leave the station and with any luck you'll never hear from us again."

Delenn looked thoughtful for a moment. They were not telling her everything. That much was obvious and that much they admitted themselves. But what they were telling her was part of the truth.

"Very well," she nodded. "You go tell this salesman that I sent you to him and I am interested in what he has. When the time comes, I will help you with the transaction."

"And you won't make any claims on the talisman yourself?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Why would I?" Delenn wanted to know. "Your brother is right, I want the station safe. I need it safe. If this talisman is indeed a threat to Babylon 5, then I want it off this station. By any means necessary."

The deal seemed to have been made. Delenn was going to coöperate with them. But Dean was not going to rest easy until he made one thing clear.

"I trust you will keep what you know about our true identity a secret, Ambassador," he said. "From your alien counterparts as well as from the captain of the station."

"That might be difficult," Delenn admitted. "Your Markab friend was quite distraught by your presence here. Seeing as I am doing nothing about it, he might even resort on going to Captain Sheridan with what he knows. Leave that to me, though. If the captain does find out about you, I will talk to him."

AN: I remember reading on a Babylon 5 web page (I think it was the Babylon 5 wikia) that some of the council sessions were broadcasted. I decided to go with that (after all, I remember my grandfather used to watch his fair share of parliament debates on TV, so there's no reason to think the practice would not have been plausible on Babylon 5 as well. Maybe not during all sessions, but a few of them could have been broadcasted from time to time).