Delenn got out of bed slowly the next morning, not remembering when the last time she had been able to wake up naturally like this, without the aid of an alarm. It was lovely. Fleeting, she knew, but lovely all the same.

Slowly, she stretched her arms above her head, noting with happiness that it finally did not hurt to do so. She was grateful for Doctor Franklin's tissue regenerator, which had made the healing of the wound on her back much quicker and less painful than it might otherwise have been. Of course, the recovery process might have been a little bit less uncomfortable had she actually heeded the doctor's advice and taken time off once she had been released from Medlab, but she had been much too busy – and admittedly, too stubborn – to listen. Lennier had been right the previous evening – that hadn't been a shining moment in her capacity as a role model. But for all of her lack of rest, Lennier had been in so much more of a deficit. He had been there every single time she'd woken in Medlab, and she didn't think he knew that she knew he hadn't slept. She hadn't realized until now that she had never thanked him for going so above and beyond the call of duty these past few weeks. While she hadn't required such devotion from him, she had expected it. That was just the kind of person Lennier was – he never complained, never asked for anything, and was always willing to give more of himself, even when to the naked eye it seemed as though he should not have anything left to give. But that was no excuse for not acknowledging his contribution; in fact, she felt all the worse for having neglected him. If it hadn't been for Lennier stepping up during her convalescence to continue her work, they might have been much worse off than they currently were. And having his constant, familiar presence at her side had been so comforting. But Delenn feared she had taken advantage of him terribly, and she had not realized just how much so until the previous evening. The longer she had stood with Marcus in Medlab, waiting, the worse her guilt had become. She should have made Lennier take time off ages ago, whether he wanted it or not. She feared she had not been a very good employer as of late – not to mention not a very good friend.

She sighed and tried to shake off her feelings of guilt. There was nothing to be done now but try to prevent the mistake in the future…and maybe talk to the Minbari government about giving her aide a raise. The guilt made her want to apologize further, but she had made poor Lennier so uncomfortable the previous day that she didn't wish to press the matter. Lennier seemed unable to fathom that she could do anything wrong. She wondered if it might be a good life goal to aspire to be what her aide thought she was. The thought made her chuckle, but it was a nice idea.

She was just sitting down with her tea and breakfast when her BabCom unit beeped. What the mechanical voice said made her heart flutter.

"Message from Captain John Sheridan. Text only."

With everything that had been going on recently, by all rights Delenn should have felt apprehensive any time the captain wished to speak to her. He could very well be telling her they were at war. But she couldn't help it – the mere mention of him, of John, made her smile from ear to ear.

"Display," she said, cradling her tea as the words scrolled across the screen.

Meet for dinner tonight in the Zocalo, 1900? My treat.

-J

"Yes, yes of course!" she exclaimed. She was very aware that she was being asked on what the humans would call a date. It would be so lovely to see John in a non-work-related capacity. She desperately needed to, after the events that had happened lately.

"Transcribe this response?" the robotic voice asked, interrupting her happy reverie.

"No. Um, transcribe reply, 'I will be there. Looking forward to it.' Send reply."

Her joyful anticipation of the coming evening carried her through the morning and early afternoon. She read through some reports that had piled up during the busyness of the past few days, but she was also able to relax a bit for the first time in several weeks. Unless she counted convalescing from her wound as relaxing, which she didn't. She watered the plants that adorned her quarters and read a book.

In the afternoon, she got ready for her meeting with Lethke. Delenn liked the young Brakiri ambassador – he was one of the more friendly and reasonable representatives from the League of Non-Aligned Worlds whom she dealt with on the station, and she supposed that if she must do business on an otherwise free day, there were worse people for it to be with.

At 14:30, she listened for the door chime announcing Lennier's arrival, but it did not come. One minute passed, and then another. Delenn furrowed her brow – Lennier was punctual to the minute. He was never late. Still, she waited, unpleasant memories of the previous day becoming stronger with each passing second. At 14:40, ten minutes after Lennier's scheduled arrival but with still no sign of him, her concern got the best of her and she hurried down the hall to her aide's quarters.

Delenn pressed the button for the door chime, but this yielded no response. So she pressed it again, and again. Nothing. Then, she tried the speaker.

"Lennier? Lennier, are you in there?"

Silence.

"Lennier, it's Delenn. Are you all right?"

Yet again, nothing. Logically, Delenn knew that there could be any number of explanations for her aide being ten minutes late and not responding to his door chime or speaker. But this wasn't at all like Lennier, and between that fact and her worry from the previous day's events still fresh in her mind, Delenn made a decision. Both she and Lennier had keys for each other's quarters in case of emergency. She let herself in.

The room was dark, and it took Delenn's eyes a moment to adjust. She could barely make out room's implements – kitchenette, couch, table, little prayer area in the corner, bed against the far wall. And as she grew increasingly accustomed to the darkness, she could make out Lennier's form, lying at the usual forty-five degree angle on the bed.

Unsure of whether to be worried or annoyed at her aide having slept in this long when she had been satisfied with several hours less, Delenn approached the bed. When she came to stand next to Lennier, she could see that his eyes were closed, but his breathing was not the slow, even rise and fall of someone who was peacefully asleep. It was quicker, shallower. She wondered if he could perhaps be having a nightmare. Eager to free him from it should that be the case, Delenn reached out and gently but firmly shook Lennier's shoulder, noticing that the robes beneath her hand were the ones he had worn the previous day.

"Lennier. Lennier, wake up! Lights," she said, the last part ordering the voice-activated system to raise to the brightness of the room. Lennier stirred at her voice and touch, and finally opened his eyes, but almost immediately, he furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Delenn?" he whispered, squinting at her as though she was standing far away rather than right next to him. "What…what time is it?"

"14:45," she replied. "I'm sorry to come into your quarters uninvited, but when you did not meet me when you said you would, I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"14:45…"murmured Lennier, blinking as though he was trying to clear his vision. Suddenly his eyes widened. "14:45! Oh Delenn, I'm so sorry…" He started to sit up, but almost immediately his face went completely white. He murmured "Oh" before sinking back down onto the angled bed where he laid quite still, his eyes closed. No, not still, Delenn thought as she suddenly realized that her friend was shaking all over. She felt a pang of fear in the pit of her stomach, an explosion of the steadily growing worry she had been experiencing since Lennier had failed to show up at her quarters on time. Something was truly very wrong.

"Lennier," she said, trying and failing to keep her voice calm. She took his hand in her own and laid her other on his cheek, hoping her touch would provide some momentary comfort from whatever he was suffering from and maybe encourage him to open his eyes. And he did open his eyes, but only when Delenn gasped and pulled her hand away from his face.

"In Valen's name, you are burning up!"

"No," said Lennier weakly, once again furrowing his brow in confusion. "I'm very cold."

Fear fluttered inside Delenn's chest again. If Lennier felt cold, it meant that his temperature was still rising. High fevers were one of the most worrisome afflictions a Minbari could contract. Because Minbari did not sweat, they had no natural way of cooling themselves when faced with a high body temperature. And Lennier's was getting higher.

"I'm going to call the doctor." Delenn started to turn away and head for the BabCom unit on the wall.

"But I already went to the doctor," countered Lennier, sounding all the more confused. Then he swallowed hard and shut his eyes for a moment, his body shaking even harder. His next words were barely a whimper.

"Delenn, what's happening?"

"It's going to be all right," she soothed, even though she doubted more and more that it would be with every passing second. "I'm going to call Doctor Franklin so we can get you to Medlab. He'll know what's wrong, and how to fix it."

As she turned away, Lennier tried once again to sit up – the action of following her wherever she went was probably so engrained in his subconscious that even the high fever did not temper his need to follow that pattern. Delenn quickly laid a hand on his chest before he could fall off of the bed and pushed him gently back down.

"No, no - don't try to get up. I'll be right back."

He blinked at her, and for a moment she saw lucidity flicker in his eyes, and he nodded. Delenn gave his hand a quick squeeze and then hurried over to the screen on the wall.

"Call Doctor Stephen Franklin, emergency priority," she said, trying to keep her voice as calm as she could. Lennier was incredibly perceptive, and she was worried that the confusion brought on by the fever might turn that perceptiveness into panic should he pick up on her fear.

To her relief, Franklin's face appeared on the screen almost immediately.

"Delenn?" he seemed momentarily surprised to see her, which made sense, given that the call had been placed from Lennier's quarters. "What's going on?"

"I'm afraid Lennier is very ill. He has a fever so high that it is making him confused, and I think he is getting worse. And he is too weak even to sit up."

She saw the doctor tense when she said the word "fever", and she bit her bottom lip reflexively in nervousness.

"Can you stay with him until I get there?" Franklin asked.

"Yes, of course," Delenn quickly replied.

"Okay, I'm on my way. Try to keep him calm – if he gets upset or panicked, it will only raise his body temperature more." He waited for Delenn to nod, showing that she understood. "I'll be there in a minute. Franklin out."

Delenn sighed shakily and clasped her hands tightly in front of her. She fought the urge to hurry back to her stricken friend's side, but there was something she needed to attend to first. As cruel as it felt at that moment, she was an ambassador – she needed to be diplomatic, even in emergencies. She glanced over her shoulder and, satisfied that Lennier was not in danger of falling out of bed at that exact moment, she turned back to the screen.

"Call Ambassador von Bartrado."

A few seconds later, she was looking at the Brakiri ambassador. He looked vaguely annoyed at her lateness, but not angry.

"Ah, Delenn. Have you forgotten about our meeting?"

"No, Lethke, I have not. But I am afraid an emergency has arisen. I sincerely apologize, but you know I would not ask to postpone so late unless it were truly serious."

"Say no more," the Brakiri ambassador smiled warmly. "The matter we were to discuss is not urgent, and you are too kind a soul to be angry with. Let us speak no more of it."

"Thank you, Lethke," Delenn replied, breathing a sigh of relief and bowing respectfully. "If you ever need the favor returned, consider it done."

Von Bartrado dipped his head. "I do hope everything is all right, Delenn."

"As do I," she murmured. "I must go. Thank you again, Lethke."

She terminated the call and hurried across the room. Lennier's eyes fluttered open as he heard her approach.

"Please tell me I haven't caused an interplanetary incident," he murmured.

So he had heard. Delenn's laugh was forced. So was Lennier's attempt at a smile, and it was interrupted by the bout of shivers that suddenly racked his body. Delenn took his hand again.

"The doctor is on his way."

Lennier nodded slightly, but she could see in his eyes that his brief hold on lucidity was beginning to slip away again. Desperate to be of some comfort, she whispered,

"Take strength, Lennier. All will be well."

It is a lie for the good of another, she told herself, but that didn't make it true. She had no idea how this would end, and Lennier knew that. But all the same, she felt his hand weakly squeeze hers, and she realized that he understood. But then his eyes closed again, as if he could not keep them open for a moment longer, and he lay still but for the shaking. And all Delenn could do was watch and pray silently until the door opened and Doctor Franklin stepped into the room.