Lennier sat on the examination bench in Medlab with his hands clasped in front of him, trying not to look as impatient as he felt. It was not that Doctor Franklin was taking too long with his examination or his tests – Lennier would never even think to complain about such a thing, especially since the doctor had been so kind and done so much for him as of late. It was only that although Lennier was feeling ever so much better, Doctor Franklin always seemed to turn up something that implied he was not yet recovered enough to resume his duties as Delenn's aide. Of course, Lennier knew that the doctor was only exercising an abundance of caution out of concern for his patient's welfare, especially with the recent diagnosis of his genetic condition. And Lennier would be lying if he told himself he felt completely better – he still tired quite easily upon physical activity, and he found he needed more sleep than he normally would. But while Lennier really did appreciate the doctor's meticulous care and attention to his health, it was beginning to feel worryingly like he might just be stuck in his quarters forever.

At least the doctor had recently reduced his visits from every other day to twice a week – Lennier supposed that he should look for improvement wherever it could be found, and it could be found in that fact. But it was a subtle thing. Doctor Franklin was still putting him through the rigor of a hefty slew of tests every time he visited – a thorough physical examination as well as blood tests for his blood count and chemistry values, bacterial titers (which were mercifully down nearly to what one would expect in a normal patient), and antibody titers (again, nearly normal). He also received the twice-weekly injection of antibodies, which was administered into the muscle of his arm. Doctor Franklin reassured him that once Lennier had a clean bill of health and did not need to be rechecked for this illness anymore, he would show him how to inject himself so that he did not need to continue to come to Medlab twice a week but rather once every two weeks to have his blood drawn for an antibody titer. Lennier was grateful for this – the idea of poking himself in the arm with a needle twice a week did not bother him in the least. He was not squeamish, and this was a much more efficient system. Valen only knew how much he needed to get back to work and stay there. He did not have time to be continually running back and forth to Medlab – he had duties to concentrate on. Or at least he would whenever the doctor finally told him he could go back to work.

He knew he ought to be accustomed to waiting by now, but each time he watched for Doctor Franklin to come through the exam room door seemed longer. Finally, the doctor entered, a data pad in his hand. His expression was unreadable – he had improved his "poker face", as Londo would have called it, since he had called Lennier about the results of the genetic test.

"Thanks for your patience, Lennier. These tests have gotten faster over the years, but it would still be nice if they were instantaneous."

The doctor took a seat next to the bench where Lennier perched. Lennier studied him for several seconds as the doctor sat in silence, looking over what was written on the data pad. Lennier's impatience and apprehension increased with every passing moment. What could the pad possibly say that was taking Franklin so long to analyze? Could his test results have worsened? Perhaps his antibody titer had dropped again – the doctor had told him that wasn't something you could feel happening, which was why he needed to be tested so often. If that was the case, how much longer would he need to stay cooped up in his quarters? Delenn had been so patient with the whole situation, and he knew she would gladly give him as long as he needed. But though of course she had said nothing on the matter, he knew how busy she was, and that she did not deserve to be without the help of an aide for any longer.

She had not, of course, deserved to be without help for any period of time, and no amount of reassurance on Delenn's part could have made Lennier feel any better about that. He had once tried to encourage her to ask the government for a temporary replacement, someone who could at least help with her mountains of paperwork. She had replied, simply but firmly, "I do not want another aide, Lennier. I just want you." Odd though it was, the combination of stubbornness and love in her eyes was enough to leave Lennier speechless and unable to argue any further. But it had driven him to want to go back to helping her all the more. He did not know what he was going to do with himself if he couldn't soon.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but in reality was probably just several seconds of Lennier studying Franklin's facial expression for any clues whatsoever, the doctor finally looked up from the data pad, met his patient's gaze, and laughed.

"I'm sorry, I just can't take you looking at me like that. Everything's looking great, Lennier – your physical exam, bloodwork, bacterial and antibody titers. I'm clearing you to go back to work."

"Right now?" Lennier's heart pounded with excitement. After all this time, all those weeks confined to bed and to his quarters, feeling helpless and useless in his inability to do the thing that mattered most in his life – protect and serve Delenn – he could hardly believe what he was hearing.

Franklin chuckled. "As soon as I'm finished talking to you, yes."

Lennier stifled the urge to leap off of the bench and run out of Medlab and across the station straight to Delenn's quarters. Never mind that he was still in no condition to be running anywhere – at that moment, he felt as though he could run the entire circumference of Minbar without so much as losing his breath.

"Lennier. Lennier, listen to me," Franklin was saying, and Lennier forced himself to focus on the doctor's words. "I know you're excited, and you should be, but there are some caveats. You can resume the majority of your normal duties as ambassadorial aide, as long as they don't involve too much physical activity. I don't want you on your feet for more than an hour at a time, and no exercise besides walking yet. And you need to take it slowly – take a half a day off if you're getting tired. Delenn will understand – I'm absolutely positive of that. Don't expect to be able to do everything you used to right away – full recovery from sepsis can take months. It will go faster if you listen to your body and give it the rest and time that it needs to finish healing. I know you want to jump right back in to your work, so this might be tough for you. But you have to promise me you'll eat and sleep and rest as much as your body needs, and that you'll come to me right away if something feels wrong. I mean it, Lennier." Franklin gave his patient his best stern-doctor look. It was convincing, and Lennier knew he was serious, but behind it all he could see that the doctor was almost as thrilled as he was. As he should be, thought Lennier. He has worked as hard as I have for me to come this far.

"I promise," said Lennier in his most plaintive, convincing manner. He had developed that particular combination of tone and facial expression as a young child in temple, where it had been very effective in convincing the older novitiates to allow him to stay up reading for just a few more minutes. It seemed to work on Doctor Franklin, too, because he did not seem to doubt Lennier's word, even when he mentally followed it up with or at least I'll try.

"Okay," said Franklin. "I imagine you're itching to tell Delenn the good news. Off you go, and I'll see you back in here for your antibody injection in three days."

"Thank you, Doctor!" Lennier jumped to the ground and bowed gratefully several times at Franklin on his way out. When he reached the door, he headed toward Green Sector as quickly as his still-recovering body would allow him. As much as he wanted to go straight to Delenn's quarters, he knew he needed to stop at his own first. There was something he needed to pick up.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Lennier, dressed in his favorite set of reddish-brown robes in the style traditionally worn by Religious Caste Minbari working outside of a religious setting, ran Delenn's door chime. By the time he heard her slightly distracted command of "Enter" and the door swung open, he was practically bouncing with excitement.

He found Delenn seated at her table, bent over no less than four data pads and looking a touch frustrated and flustered. It took her a couple of seconds to look up at him, as though she had momentarily forgotten having ordered her door open just moments before. But then she paused in her staring at the work in front of her and saw him, and then Lennier had the immeasurable pleasure of seeing her face absolutely light up.

"Lennier! What a lovely surprise! I wasn't expecting you…"

Lennier triangled his hands and bowed low. "Diplomatic aide Lennier, reporting for duty, with the permission of his doctor."

"You're back?" Delenn sounded breathless with excitement. Lennier nodded, still in a half-bow with triangled hands. Delenn let out a little squeak of joy, leapt to her feet, and cupped both of his cheeks in her palms, wrapping her fingers around the back of his headbone and gently drawing his head forward so their foreheads touched. Her smile in that moment was the brightest, most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her happiness, their happiness, had been threatened so many times as of late. For this moment to exist was a miracle to match anything he had ever studied in temple. But it did exist, and Lennier closed his eyes, drinking it in. He could never remember ever having been happier. Delenn moved after several seconds and Lennier's heart cried out for her to stay, to make the moment last forever, or at least for a little while longer. But he found he did not have to give it up just yet, for Delenn released her hold on his head and threw her arms around him. He gasped slightly in surprise, but then returned her embrace, lacing his fingers into the folds of her dress and holding on tightly, feeling the hair on the top of her head brush lightly against his cheek.

"Lennier, this is such wonderful news," Delenn said after a long time, finally stepping backward. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to have you well and back at my side. It just has not been the same not having you around – whatever it is you and I are meant for in this universe, we are meant to do it together."

You have no idea, thought Lennier. His heart ached to tell her about his vision, about seeing Dukhat. She deserved to know, and it felt cruel to keep it from her. But as a scholar of religion, Lennier knew better than to interfere with the course of vision or prophecy. If Dukhat said Lennier would know when it was time to tell Delenn, then he would know. It might be days, or weeks, or even years. He would wait, and deal with the consequences when they came. It would all work out, because it was meant to. Right now, he would only relish this moment, this life, and being at the side of the person he loved most in the world.

"And I feel I can face anything the universe sends my way, if I only have you here with me," he agreed. "But first, I have something that belongs to you that needs returning." He reached inside the folds of his robe and from them withdrew Delenn's precious shawl, which he had folded with great care. He held it out to her with both hands.

"Thank you for lending me this, Delenn. To sacrifice something so dear to your heart and important to your comfort for me, especially when you were also in need of it, was so very kind. It helped even more than I think you know. I am afraid I have had much about which to despair recently, on top of feeling utterly miserable; but every time I put the shawl on, I was reminded of your affection and care for me. It was, of course, no substitute for having you there, but it helped me keep holding on until you returned. But now that I am back at your side, I feel justified in returning it to you."

Delenn took the shawl from his hands slowly, running her fingers along the soft cloth. For a moment, it seemed to Lennier that she was considering putting it on. But then set it lovingly on the table next to her couch, as though intending to put it away later.

"It has been quite busy in its role as an object of comfort for the both of us as of late, hasn't it? I think it is time it takes a well-deserved break." Her eyes sparkled, and Lennier smiled.

"Come," Delenn told him. "I imagine you are quite ready to get to work."

"Beyond ready," agreed Lennier.

"Excellent. The timing of your triumphant return could not have been better." Her smile broadened as she motioned for him to sit in the chair she had vacated when he had entered. The multiple data pads she had been poring over still sat spread out on the table.

"I have been working with the station's Cascor ambassador to try to negotiate a trade agreement. She has been resistant to the idea for weeks, but this morning she finally drew up her requested terms. Since getting her to cooperate has been such a struggle, I want to get back to her as quickly as possible. Lennier, throughout my time in politics, I have learned to read seven and fluently speak five languages, and I have conversational basics in seven more. But I cannot read Cascorian. I have been trying for three hours, but I am afraid I cannot make head or tail of it. But since you are a trained linguist…"

"Say no more." Lennier took a seat, relishing the challenge of deciphering an entirely unfamiliar language. Scanning the first data pad, he immediately began to recognize a discernable pattern and began to take notes. He became absorbed in the work so quickly that he almost did not notice Delenn sit down next to him, still watching him work.

"Did I mention how glad I am to have you back?" He looked up; she was grinning from ear to ear. It was infectious.

"Yes, but it does not hurt to hear it again."

Delenn laughed, and Lennier was still smiling as he turned back to his work. He did not stop smiling for a long, long time.

Lennier's first few days back at work went very well. His spirits were higher than they had been since long before he had fallen ill, for now he did not have to balance and mask his feelings for Delenn. He could relax around her, and enjoy her company as she did his. And he finally felt useful again. He had never thought he would be so happy to just be doing paperwork.

Delenn had, of course, managed to squeeze Doctor Franklin's stipulations for going back to work out of Lennier. She always made sure he ate enough and went to his Medlab appointments. She also watched him very closely, making him lie down on the couch for a while at the slightest sign of fatigue. He had protested half-heartedly the first time she had done this, but one stern glance had seen him obediently prostrated. But Lennier was immensely appreciative and touched by Delenn's continued attentiveness to his well-being. And although the idea had shocked him the first time he had acknowledged it, he had to admit that he enjoyed it when she looked after him. But then again, when he had been as ill as he had, wasn't he entitled to relish his friend's ministrations just a little bit?

Due to Delenn's vigilance concerning his health, Lennier found that he was able to work full days, despite Doctor Franklin's warning that he might not be able to in the beginning. After having been out of work for so long, it made him feel like he was making up for lost time. But it did mean that he could do nothing else but work. Most evenings he barely managed to get some dinner into his system before collapsing into bed and sleeping until the morning. Lennier was glad of his progress, but he was very much looking forward to not being so tired that he could not spend time with his friends after work occasionally. He missed Marcus and Vir.

So when, after a few days of Lennier being back on the job, Delenn announced that she was going to deliver a folder of quarterly import/export summaries to Londo's quarters and would be back as soon as possible (all the while looking as though she was just a bit afraid she would be kept prisoner there forever), Lennier saw his chance.

"May I take them?"

"Are you sure, Lennier? You should not be on your feet too much yet." Delenn looked obviously concerned, but Lennier did not miss her relief at his offer.

"It is only three levels down, Delenn," he reminded her reassuringly. "And I will come right back, I promise. It is only…I have not seen Vir in several days; since before I returned to work, in fact. I am afraid I have been so tired in the evenings I have not even had the energy to call him. I would like to at least let him know all is well."

"All right," she said, her gratitude evident in her tone. "Thank you, Lennier."

He quickly triangled his hands and dipped his head on the way out the door, and then set off for the Centauri ambassador's quarters. He did very much want to see Vir as well as simply stretch his legs a bit, but those were not the only reasons he had offered to do this particular errand. No, it was time for him to follow through on a promise he had made several weeks prior.

Arriving at Londo's door, Lennier took a deep breath and exhaled. This would not be easy, but it was necessary. He rang the chime.

"Come." The ambassador's heavily accented voice rang out through the intercom, and the door swung open. Londo turned from where he was sitting at his desk and saw Lennier enter.

"Mister Lennier! Are you back to running Delenn's errands for her, then?" Londo's tone and expression were unironic, reaffirming Lennier's conviction to keep his promise to Vir.

"Amongst other duties, yes," he replied politely. He approached the desk and held out the folder he had been carrying. "Here are the quarterly import/export summaries you required."

As Londo took the folder from his hands, Lennier glanced around the quarters, lavishly decorated with purple and red drapings and hung with portraits of Centauri emperors from bygone eras. "Is Vir around?"

"He just went to his quarters to pick up some reports he left there. He should be back at any moment. Did you have need of him?" Londo opened the folder and began scanning its contents as he spoke.

"Not particularly; I only wished to say hello," Lennier clarified. "I am afraid I've inadvertently neglected him over the past few days, which is quite unfair given how kind he has been to me recently."

"Ah, yes. You should certainly rectify that situation. He is hideously absent-minded, that Vir. But he is a good man, and a good friend. That is not something to be taken for granted."

"I absolutely agree," said Lennier quickly, wishing fervently that Vir was there to hear Londo's kind words. He wondered if his friend would believe him if he told him what his employer had said about him. But he could not dwell on that; he still had work to do.

"On that note, Ambassador, Vir told me of your concern for me while I was ill, and that you tried to visit me while I was recovering in Medlab. I just wanted you to know that I am grateful."

Londo's large eyebrows went up. "While I accept and appreciate your gratitude, Mister Lennier, I can assure you that it is quite unnecessary. I was simply doing what friends do. For we are friends, are we not, Mister Lennier?"

"Yes. We are." And Lennier meant it. He really and truly did. Being Londo's friend would not be easy, and they certainly would not be terribly close. But despite the Centauri's less-than-ideal life choices, he deserved another chance. The ambassador's wide, fang-filled smile let Lennier know he had done the right thing.

Vir chose that moment to walk in.

"Ah, Vir! My good friend Mister Lennier and I were just wondering when you would return." Londo motioned his attaché over.

"Good friend?" echoed Vir, looking to Lennier for confirmation.

"Yes," said Lennier with a knowing look, and Vir smiled as wide as Londo had but a moment before.

"But Lennier," said Vir, the circumstances obviously just then registering in his head, "you're here! I mean, you're here as in, you're not in your quarters. Or…not just in your quarters. I mean…are you supposed to be here?"

Lennier chuckled. "Yes, Vir. Doctor Franklin cleared me to return to work a few days ago. I am sorry I have not been in touch – while I am indescribably glad to have resumed my duties working for Delenn, I am afraid they have left me considerably more tired than they normally would."

"Oh, that's okay! You take all the time you need. And when you're ready, we'll sit at the bar and you can tell me all about those rituals like you promised."

"You mean like you promised."

"It doesn't really matter, I suppose," said Vir thoughtfully. Then, rather impulsively, he wrapped his friend into a hug, which Lennier returned eagerly.

"I'm really glad you're better, Lennier."

"As am I," agreed Lennier. His ribcage was slightly squished by the ferocity of the Cenaturi's embrace, but it felt good. "For so many reasons."

Lennier clutched the large tray with both hands to avoid spilling its cargo as he walked through the door to Delenn's quarters.

"Hello, Delenn!" He called out from behind the contents of his arms.

"Hello, Lennier," she replied warmly, sounding immensely glad to see him, as though they had not just finished their workday together a mere two hours prior. She started to get up off the couch to help him as he placed the tray on the counter, but he motioned for her to remain seated.

"No, please. You've had such a tiring day, with all of those meetings."

"You were in all of the meetings, too," she reminded him, but she stayed on the couch.

"Yes, but you were speaking in them. That is far more tiring than note-taking, which is what I did all day." Lennier pulled Delenn's kettle out of the cabinet, filled it, and set it on the stove for tea.

"There must be something I can help with." Delenn started to stand again, but having finished what he needed to in the kitchen for the time being, Lennier brought the tray over and set it on the small table in front of the couch before Delenn could get to her feet.

"Delenn, this is a celebration of my clean bill of health, remember? I am completely recovered from my illness, and therefore it is finally my turn to serve you." Which is just the way it should be.

She smiled and finally settled back onto the couch before turning her attention to the contents of the tray.

"Lennier, those smell very enticing. What are they?"

"They are called chocolate chip cookies. They are a human food that I have found I rather enjoy. Commander Ivanova was kind enough to give me her recipe, but only after she made me swear an oath not to widely distribute them around the station and use them to appropriate the favor she gained by doing so herself." He shook his head at Delenn's puzzled look. "It is a long story. Try one."

Delenn selected a cookie from the platter and bit into it.

"Lennier, this is wonderful! It is so soft and sweet – I want to eat all of them at once! I cannot believe I have never tried these before." She took another bite, bliss spreading over her features.

"I am glad you like them. I can make them any time you want." Lennier's heart danced to see the happiness the sweet little morsels had brought Delenn.

Delenn laughed softly. "Lennier, on-call cookie baking goes beyond the job description of a diplomatic aide."

"Perhaps, but not that of a best friend."

She met his eyes, her gaze full of enough love and affection and happiness to leave Lennier breathless with joy.

And so they sat next to one another on the couch, drinking tea and eating cookies long into the night, talking and reminiscing and each just enjoying the other's company. Their lives would never be perfect – there would always be the threat of serious consequences from Lennier's genetic condition, and many unknown dangers lay hidden in the galaxy waiting for them. But that was all right, because no matter what trouble befell them, they had each other. And because of that, despite the uncertainty of the future, Lennier was finally happy.