Part Two: The Woman in White

After the Executive Staff meeting, only John and Susan remained in the small office off the War Room. John had pulled out a folded paper from under the work files and smoothed it open, closely examining the criss-cross of pencil marks that covered it.

"What's that?" asked Susan as she stood next to him neatly filing away her own work. Her pile was only a little higher than the one John had shoved aside to make room for his spreadsheet.

"It's a schedule," John said. He looked up at her and grinned. "Those little gifts I've been getting? I'm trying to work out who's been leaving them."

Susan continued her tidying, glancing at the sheet with mild curiosity. There was a schematic of the station just above the tables. "Could be anyone." The number of red x's turned her tone sharply professional. "How many of these gifts have there been?" she asked abruptly.

John laughed, and then stopped abruptly at the unfamilar sound. How long had it been since he'd laughed out loud? Smiling ruefully at Susan's startled expression, he continued, pointing at the paper. "The thing is, it's not a civilian or a tourist or a businessman. Whoever it is has access to the secure conference rooms and to the command levels of the station, including staff quarters."

Susan leaned over and squinted in an attempt to decipher what resembled fractal chicken scratches. "Security? They'd have access. I suppose you've checked Garibaldi's whereabouts. It sounds like one of his schemes."

"One of my first choices, but no, he's clear." John looked at her puzzled and concerned face and explained, "It's just something else to think about...something that won't affect the fate of the whole damn galaxy."

Susan nodded. "That's a good thing. I suppose." She cleared her throat and suggested hesitantly, "Ambassadorial staff have access to the level with our quarters."

John's face turned red. "Londo and G'Kar were with me in two instances, and I'd swear they had no idea what was going on." He shrugged and continued, "And the Vorlons don't have much to do with me these days."

Susan's eyebrow crept ever upward as she waited for his next inevitable statement.

"Of course there's Delenn," he managed to get out, stumbling over the name as he strove for nonchalance. "But it's not her."

"Why not?" asked Susan.

John looked at his second suspiciously. Susan's tone was bland and non-committal. She knew something about this, and she wasn't telling. "It's not Delenn's style. At least," he said honestly, "I don't think it is. And besides, at least two of them were, um, tokens of, uh, affection." He mumbled the last, almost hoping Susan had not heard. "They're all from different cultures, as far as I can tell."

Susan said carefully, "I think maybe we'd better request a Security detail for you. You might be looking at a stalker, and they can be dangerous."

John shook his head, and said emphatically, "No, it doesn't feel threatening. Just mysterious. Intriguing even."

Susan smiled faintly, "I'm sure it's a nice distraction for you. Keep me informed, okay?" She stood and collected her paperwork, tucking it under one arm. "I'll see you later in C&C?"

"I'll be there to relieve you this afternoon," he said absently, his attention pulled back to the creased paper spread out in front of him. At the sound of the door closing behind her, he grimaced. She'll be on to Garibaldi about that detail before she gets to the end of the corridor. He shrugged; it was only to be expected. He'd have done the same thing in her place.

John made it back to C&C a little later than he'd meant to, but Ivanova just handed him a stack of manifests to sign, and announced she was leaving for an early evening meal and some sleep. After working his way through the docking manifests, and noting with pleasure that his able second had managed to get all of the malfunctioning bays largely functional, he wandered over to the main port to lose himself in the stars.

The crew present in C&C was dwindling as the shift changed. The few evening shift officers who had arrived were engrossed in going over the day shift's reports. John was still absorbed in the view when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Whirling around, he saw only his people at their work, studying their screens and going over the list of ships in dock, those expected to arrive and those expected to leave during their upcoming shift. It was quieter at night, but cargo and people still came and went. Turning back to the view, he saw a vague reflection, a figure in white just exiting the command deck. Great, he thought, now he was seeing things.

Returning to the small area that served as his desk, he saw a scarlet rose carefully draped across his tablet. Picking it up he examined it closely. It was either real or the best synthetic he'd ever seen. He discreetly glanced around the room, but no one was even looking in his direction. Leaving the floral tribute behind on the desk, he walked over to the duty officer, who was standing in front of the main monitoring station. John said, "Could you check the entry records? Who's come and gone from C&C in the last, oh, thirty minutes?"

The young woman touched several tabs on the screen in quick succession, and shook her head. "Since you arrived, Captain, four crew members including myself, reported for duty. Commander Ivanova and the six daytime staff have left. That's all. Were you expecting someone?" she asked. "I can page their link and get them up here for you."

"No, no," replied John, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's fine." He stared at the log entries on the screen. Abruptly he announced, "I have to check something down in MedLab. You're in charge, Lieutenant."

John was halfway to MedLab before he remembered that Stephen was no longer there. Slowing his stride to a slow walk, he considered the wisdom of confiding in Dr. Hobbes. Maybe it would be better to get an objective opinion of his recent apparent hallucination, but what he really wanted was to talk to a friend. Slowing down even more, he turned that idea over in his mind. Those who knew as much as he did about ongoing events he could count on the fingers of one hand. Between the various conspiracies and secrets, he had almost run out of people it was safe to talk to. Used as he was to the loneliness of command, there had always been one or two people he could confide in. There had been Anna. Now there was no one, or no one who wasn't already overburdened with work and worries of her own.

John sighed and turned his steps back towards C&C and his duty. Taking his turn on the deck both encouraged the people under him, and gave Ivanova a much-needed break. Susan would run the whole station for him if he let her, but he wouldn't risk her cracking under the strain. His crew were all good people, but this waiting war was difficult on everyone, military and civilian alike. All his concerns came flooding back and his shoulders tensed as his mind started going over and over the strategic problems that filled his thoughts, both day and night. Muttering to himself as he walked, he gradually became aware of a person at the far end of the corridor, a delicate figure clothed all in filmy white from head to toe. It turned the corner ahead of him and he broke into a trot, determined to catch whoever it was and get an explanation. Quickening his pace he turned the corner and slammed straight into Michael Garibaldi.

"Whoa there, Captain! Where are you going in such a hurry?" Garibaldi craned his neck to look past John, as if to determine the presence of any threat pursuing the Captain.

John meanwhile was staring at the empty corridor beyond Garibaldi. "I saw someone...a woman I think. Where'd she go?" he demanded of his Security chief.

Garibaldi shook his head. "Nobody there, John. At least I didn't see anyone. Maybe they ducked into one of the rooms?" He snapped the catch on his holster making his gun accessible and then started to hit the contact button on his comlink while saying, "I'll get somebody up here to do a sweep. First let me check if any of these rooms are occupied, mostly offices and conference rooms anyway..." He broke off as John shook his head.

"No, it's not important," declared John. "I guess I'm just a little tired."

"No kidding," said Garibaldi,lowering his hand to rest lightly on the hilt of his weapon. His tone was a mix of sarcasm and concern. "The way things are going around here I'm surprised we're not all seeing things," he added lightly.

"I'm not the sort of person who sees things that aren't there," John protested.

Garibaldi looked at him thoughtfully, "No you're not. But maybe you're the kind of guy who doesn't see things that are there." He crossed his arms and regarded John. "Captain, there are lots of people involved in this dust-up. People want to help. I've been sending telepaths off to warships half the day; all sorts of races, people who don't even really understand what's going on but just want to do the right thing. There are folks all around you who want to help. You just have to reach out and accept it."

John's face closed down. "It's not that easy," he said through tight lips. "It's not fair to shift your burdens to other people."

"Life's not fair," retorted Garibaldi, "And I bet you already knew that. And it's not called shifting, it's called sharing. Look, you want me to chase down this mysterious female for you?"

"No," said John, shaking his head to emphasize the point. "I've been chasing ghosts long enough. Time to get back to the job." He walked off towards C&C, fatigue and resurgent worry dogging his steps.