Part 1 of 3

	This story takes place between the Babylon 5 episodes 
“RISING STAR”  and “DECONSTRUCTION OF FALLING STARS.” It is 
therefore a gap filler.  Our first story entitled “WHO”S ON 
FIRST,’ was designed to read like a television episode.  In 
fact, we did a teleplay version complete with the plot A and 
plot B structure.  The following story is more typical of 
fan fiction work.  “FISHERS OF MEN” is basically a novella.  
We would like to dedicate this novella to a very brave 
cross-section of humanity.  This cross-section is composed 
of people who face terminal illness.  We want the moments of 
this tale to give you the light you need to force your 
shadows to recede.   



_____________________


Fishers of Men



Written by 

M.C. Hart and Mike Horrom

Edited by Tracy Lynn Ford



(Karszak@aol.com)
_________________



	Delenn still couldn’t quite believe she was on Earth.  
After all they’d been through the past days, with freeing 
John, the assault against earth, President Clark’s suicide, 
it hadn’t had time to really sink in. Now that John resigned 
and had taken the position of President of the newly formed 
ISA, she actually had time to relax and enjoy herself.  
Everyone under Sheridan’s command had been cleared of 
charges, due to the conditions of the resignation -- Earth 
had technically forgiven them of their mutinous acts.  G’kar 
and Londo had returned to the fleet earlier the day before, 
leaving her and Sheridan to follow in the white star that 
waited in orbit for them.  

	She had seen little save the government building they 
now were housed in, and she was hoping that John would take 
up the offer his father had suggested about them returning 
to his home for a few days.  David Sheridan had seemed like 
a very nice man when she had met him the day before; she 
wanted to get to know him better before she and John got 
married.  It would give her an opportunity to learn more 
about his family and see more of his world. 

	 But something was bothering John and she wasn’t sure 
what it was.  He’d seemed delighted in seeing his father; 
knowing that he was safe after what they’d both been through 
had eased his mind.  But there was something else.  When 
David Sheridan had made the suggestion, John had agreed that 
it would be enjoyable, but had put the older man off with 
his answer.  Delenn assumed he’d jump at the idea of going 
home for a few days he hadn’t had the opportunity in years.
When she questioned him about it he brushed her off; she 
hadn’t excepted that response.  He always talked to her 
about what was bothering him.  It worried her that he was 
keeping this to himself. He was distressed, anyone that knew 
him well enough could see that, and she knew him very well.    
She had tried again, later than evening, but he hadn’t 
voiced his thoughts to her then either.  She didn’t want to 
pry into something he apparently thought she didn’t need to 
be concerned about, but she knew whatever was going through 
his mind was bothering him terribly.  She hated seeing him 
like this.  He hardly spoke all evening, and she found 
herself repeating things to him when he didn’t catch them 
the first time around.  He was in another world.       
	  
	When she awoke this morning, John was already up and 
gone.  He hadn’t left a note or a message, and when he 
returned later that morning, he still had said nothing.  She 
couldn’t stand seeing him like this.  Opening the door, she 
walked into the outer room of the quarters they had been 
assigned and stared momentarily at the back of her fiancée.
He stood in front of the bay window, hands clasped behind 
his back, staring out over the city.  He’d been in this 
position for quite some time, lost in his thoughts.  She had 
left him alone, knowing he needed to work through whatever 
was troubling him, in his own way. This had gone on for far 
too long; it was time she stepped in.

	She stepped up to his side quietly, her robes rustling 
from the movement; he didn’t even acknowledge her.  His eyes 
were fixed on some unknown spot in the distance, his jaw 
set.  She waited a moment, then spoke when it became 
apparent that he wouldn’t.  “What is wrong?”  she asked, 
concerned.

	He took a deep breath, but didn’t look at her.  
“Nothing,” he said softly. 

	“You are a very poor liar, John.  You have been like 
this since your father suggested we visit him.”  She reached 
out, laying her hand on his chest.  “We are old souls. I 
know you as well as I know myself.  Tell me what is 
bothering you,”  she pleaded.

	He lowered his eyes, glancing at the floor, then 
finally met her gaze.  “I want to go to the farm, I’d love 
to let you see it, to spend time with dad--but we can’t,”  
he said softly, releasing his hands to take hers.

	“Why can’t we?”  she asked, slightly confused.

	He took a deep breath, then released it with force. 
“Because if we spend too much time with him, it’s liable to 
slip out--about Z’Ha’dum---about my time limitation.  He 
doesn’t need to know about that Delenn. I don’t want him 
too,” he admitted gently.

	“That is what this is about?”  she questioned. “John, 
you have to tell him at some point; you can’t keep this from 
him. He deserves to know---.”
	
	“No, he doesn’t!”  he returned with force, cutting off 
her words.  He turned from her and started across the room.  
“We’re not going,”  he said firmly.

	“You’re wrong.”  

	Her tone caught him, stopping his retreat.  He turned 
back to her, his eyes hard.  “This is not your concern 
Delenn; I’ve made my decision.  We’re returning to the white 
star today.”

	He saw her features flash with anger at his words and 
realized he’d made a mistake.  “Not my concern?!”  she spat 
out angrily as she crossed the distance quickly.  “What 
right do you have to stand there and say that?!”  She 
demanded.

	“Delenn, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like---.”  he 
reached out to her, but she slapped his hands back, cutting 
him off.

	“After all we’ve been through--the way we feel for each 
other.  I almost died of grief when I thought you were 
dead!”  she returned, heatedly.  “Everything that happens to 
you is my concern, John Sheridan.  Never forget that!”

	“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”  He took her shoulders 
again, drawing her close.  “Forgive me, Delenn.  That’s not 
what I meant,”  he whispered, hugging her.  “I don’t mean to 
hurt you.  I just---I can’t tell dad, I can’t.”  He 
whispered, into her hair.  He didn’t know what all had 
happened while he was at Z’Ha’dum, she hadn’t told him much.  
But he knew she’d gone through hell. He kicked himself for 
speaking those words without thought. 

	They stood simply holding one another for a long time. 
When he finally released her slightly, looking down into her 
eyes, she spoke,  “It would help you to deal with this.” She 
said softly.  “I know it’s hard; you haven’t spoken of it 
since that day you told me.  Every time I try to bring it 
up, you---brush me off.”  She reached up, caressing his 
beard.  “John, not talking about it doesn’t make it go away.  
We have twenty years together, no more.”

	“I know that; I told you I was ok with it.  I meant 
it,”  he returned.

	She smiled.  “You are a liar.  You are not fooling 
yourself, or me,” she admitted, remembering some of the long 
nights she’d spent sitting up with him after he woke up all 
but terrified. He wouldn’t tell her what the dreams were 
about, but they frightened him.  She could see that in his 
eyes, the way he darted them around the room, just listening 
to his ragged breathing, his heart racing. He was terrified.  
Whatever he had been through at Z’Ha’dum would haunt him for 
a very long time, if not forever.  “You’ve wrapped yourself 
up in work, first the shadow war, then Clark---you haven’t 
let yourself think about it.  Until now.  Now you don’t have 
a choice John; there isn’t an emergency that requires your 
immediate attention.”

	“Give me time. I’ll find something.”  He grinned, 
trying to tease her, but Delenn wouldn’t go for it.  

	“I don’t want to go through the rest of our lives 
living like I have the last eighteen hours,”  she said, 
refusing to let the subject go. “You’re going to go insane 
if you keep thinking about this.  Take your father’s offer 
to heart; show me your home.”  She smiled again. “I would 
love to spend time there with you; you’ve told me so much 
about it.”

	“And what happens when he asks about what we’ve been 
doing?  The subject will come up, what then?”  he whispered.

	“Then we take the step together and tell him the 
truth.”  

	John shook his head, closing his eyes.  “How do you 
tell your father that you’ll probably die before him?” he 
groaned.  “I don’t want to do this.”

	She wrapped her arms around his neck, caressing his 
hair as she consoled him.  “I know, but how will he feel 
when the time comes and he realizes you didn’t tell him.  
Give him time to prepare for it, John.  It is the right 
thing.”

	He opened his eyes, staring at her.  “You have the 
damnedest logic patterns, babe.”

	She smiled.  “One of us must.”  

	He leaned down, kissing her softly, then nodded.  “All 
right, we’ll go.  I’ll make the arrangements, when can you 
be ready?”
	
	“I’ll contact the white star and inform them of our 
plans and destination.  After that---whenever you are 
ready,”  she said smiling.

	He returned her expression.  Not that she was aware of 
it, but last night he had packed, specifically for this 
trip.  He did want to see his father, but he talked himself 
out of it, not wanting to face the inevitable.  With her 
prompting, pushing him back toward the right decision, he 
relented, knowing they must go.  “An hour then.”  He 
released her as he stepped toward the door.  “I’ll see about 
finding us transportation.”

-  -  -  -  -  -  -

	They took a shuttle from Earth dome to the closest 
docking port near John’s house.  Then, renting a car they 
traveled the additional one hundred miles.  Delenn was 
amazed at the sights she saw.  Question after question 
flowed from her lips, and John tried to answer all he could, 
laughing at her wonderment.  She had never seen such a green 
planet before. The grass, the trees---she was awed with 
everything.  It made him wonder what Minbar was really like.  
She had explained many aspects to him, like how the cities 
were built out of crystal, and other things about the 
planet.  He wanted to see it just as badly as she had wanted 
to see Earth.  From the things she told him, he was certain 
he’d respond in the same manner as she was now.

	As they moved from the city limits out into the 
country, she became silent, simply observing the scenery 
sliding past. She felt slightly uneasy not seeing even one 
crystal edifice, but then this was John’s home not hers.  
The beautiful crystalline structures would not have seemed 
appropriate in these surroundings.  It was as it should be, 
completely human. It was wonderful in it’s own way.  John 
watched her out of the corner of his eyes, smiling at the 
expression on her face.  “It’s beautiful,”  she whispered 
after a while.  “I have never seen such beautifully complex 
simplicity.”

	“It is breathtaking, even for me---and I grew up here.”  
He glanced out the window. “So much has changed since I’ve 
been home,”  he muttered.

	“How long has it been?”  she asked, glancing at him, 
before returning her eyes to the landscape.  She didn’t want 
to miss anything.

	He thought a moment.  “Truthfully, I think about six or 
seven years.  I was still on the Aggy last time I actually 
had leave home.”  He smiled.  “It was winter then; snow 
covered everything. It was gorgeous.”  He glanced at her 
again.  “Have you ever seen snow, Delenn?”

	She looked back at him confused.  “Snow?  I’m not sure 
what you mean.”  

	“It’s like rain, but frozen---not ice, softer.  It 
floats down from the sky, sometimes so hard you can’t see 
but a few feet in front of you.”  He smiled, watching the 
road.  “It covers everything, drifting up along the barn--
any structure, covering the entire landscape in a blanket of 
white.  It’s the most beautiful thing you can imagine.”  
		  	                              	
	“I think I would like to see this snow,”  she 
whispered, seeing his expression.  He was finally relaxing; 
that was what she had wanted.  After all they had both been 
through, they needed time away just to enjoy themselves and 
relax.

	“Well, you won’t see any this trip, it’s the middle of 
May.  Someday we’ll come back in the winter time; then 
you’ll get the full effect. I’m afraid my description leaves 
a lot out.”

	“I shall look forward to it,”  she whispered, then 
turned back to the landscape.  

	They drove for quite some time before Sheridan motioned 
out the window.  “See that?”  he asked, pointing to a tall 
fence that bordered the road.  At her nod, he continued.  
“That’s the start of our property. Dad’s got two hundred and 
fifty acres.  It extends out past where you can see, going 
all the way to the river and a few miles beyond.”

	“Where is the river?”  she questioned, looking in the 
direction he indicated.  

	“You can’t see it from here---too many hills.  When we 
get closer to the house, it bends around, almost coming to 
the road before it snakes back out again.  You’ll get a good 
look at it then.  The water’s crystal clear in the summer, 
perfect for swimming and fishing.  You can see the fish 
moving through the water; Lizzy liked that. She said it was 
easier to simply throw your line near the fish than wait for 
hours for a bite.”  He chuckled.  “She scared more fish than 
she actually caught.”
 
	“I could never imagine anyone owning so much land.  On 
Minbar it is very uncommon to keep your own property. It is 
more of a caste owning---and then only in the rural areas. 
It is used for the growing and harvesting of food.”

	John nodded.  “Dad used to contract people out to farm 
this as well.  We didn’t get to come down here very often, 
usually between diplomatic assignments.  So he had people he 
hired to keep up the crops and the animals.  He does most of 
it himself now, of course on a much smaller scale.  Most of 
the land just sits.”  

	He glanced back to her a moment, before watching the 
road.  “We’ve got a few horses, some chickens--I think a 
couple of cows unless dad sold them or had them butchered---
”  She looked at him quickly. He caught the movement and 
turned grinning at her.  “Well, they are for eating.” 

	“I don’t want to know.”

	He laughed. 

	Delenn shook her head distastefully as John slowed down 
and turned off.  The lane in which they now traveled was 
lined with large trees, taller than any Delenn had ever 
seen.  She craned her neck around, looking up, out of the 
window to see the tops, intertwining amongst each other far 
above her.  This made the botanical gardens on Babylon 5 
pale in comparison.  She would never be able to look at them 
again without thinking of this.  “There’s the river,”  
Sheridan said, drawing her attention.  She looked out, 
across the small field to see a beautiful ribbon of water 
curving toward them.  “It’s not nearly as large as say the 
Mississippi, but it’s always been big enough for us.  I 
remember it being bigger, though,”  he muttered slightly 
lost in thought.  Then he glanced at her smiling,  “I guess 
when you’re young, everything seems bigger.”
	
	“It’s closer a little ways up.  If you want, we’ll stop 
and you can get a better look,” he said watching her 
reaction.
	
	He was right. It was beautiful.  The water glistened 
with sunlight, throwing reflections all around; it was 
almost too bright to look at in places.  Trees hung lazily 
over the edge, casting dark, mysterious shadows into the 
undergrowth.  The far bank was overgrown and unmanageable, 
but the bank on their side of the river was well kept and 
cut down.  The grass slowly slid into the water without the 
added weeds and bushes impending it’s progress.

	“Perhaps you can bring me back tomorrow,” she 
whispered, her eyes glued to the water as it glided past.

	“Ok, we’ll go swimming.”

	Delenn did look at him then, a frown forming.  
“Swimming? I do not know how to swim.”

	John grinned.  “Yes, you do,”  he said, not believing 
her.

	“I have never swam in my life,”  she said truthfully.

	“Really?”  he asked amazed.

	She nodded. “On Minbari, it is not appropriate to 
contaminate the purity of the water by submerging your body 
in it.  It is something you do not do.”  

	“Well, I can teach you--I mean if you want I don’t want 
to force you into something you’re uncomfortable with,”  he 
said quickly, he couldn’t believe she’d never been swimming 
before.  Apparently there was a lot he still needed to learn 
about his soon-to-be wife.  

	“We shall see tomorrow.”
	
	The lane curved around, leaving the river behind them 
as Delenn caught sight of a building ahead.  “Is that your 
house?”  she asked, nodding to the top of the roof.

	“Nah, not unless you’re implying that I was raised in a 
barn,“  he said with a grin.  “That’s the barn.  The house 
is about a hundred feet on the other side. You’ll see it in 
just a minute.”  He drove around the last curve, pulling 
through an opening in the fence.  “I’m glad Dad left the 
gate opened.  I don’t think I remember the code,”  he 
muttered. 

	As they pulled into the yard, Delenn’s eyes widened.  
The house was picturesque.  It stood out from the 
surrounding landscape, beckoning them.  This was it; he was 
home.  His stomach knotted up instantly as he thought of 
what he was going to have to do.  He’d never felt this 
apprehensive about coming home or seeing his folks before.  
He drew his attention to Delenn, shaking away his disturbing 
thoughts as he smiled at her, watching.  “Dad had it built 
from the specs of the late nineteenth century models.  He 
and Mom have always been history buffs; it fit their 
personalities,”  he replied causally.  

	The house was two stories, with a front porch that 
spanned the entire front section.  Windows looked out from 
all directions, the smallest being no bigger than a foot 
across, and the largest being a big bay window in the 
center.  Delenn could make out another porch off the side, 
but could not see how big it was.  The house was painted a 
dark shade of gray with several large trees nestled around 
the yard.  Delenn noticed a bench on what appeared to be 
chains hanging from one of the trees near the house.  John 
followed her gaze and smiled.  “That’s Mom’s swing; she 
loves to sit in it during the evening as the sun drops 
behind the mountains--at least she used to.” 

	“You two getting out of the car or what?”  David 
Sheridan’s voice drew their attention back to the porch.  He 
was standing on the steps, watching them, a big smile on his 
face.  John waved as he opened the door, stepping out. Just 
relax, enjoy yourself for now, you don’t have to tell him 
immediately.  Have a good time.  David hurried down to meet 
them.  “My God, I was beginning to think you weren’t 
coming,”  he said, as John held the door opened for Delenn.   

	“I had a few things to finish up first,”  John lied, 
smiling gently.  “It looks great Dad; the house hasn’t 
changed.” 

	“A few years older--we lost that big oak tree in the 
backyard a couple of summers ago, wind took it right down,”  
David said, shaking his head.  “I still got a ton of 
firewood from that thing.”  He grinned at Delenn.  “How are 
you my dear?”  he asked, stepping to her and giving her a 
huge hug.  
		
	“I am fine, thank you, David.  Your house is beautiful.  
It’s the most amazing thing I’ve seen,” she said smiling.  

	David grinned, brushing off her comment.  “It’s a place 
to live, little else anymore.  Too damn quiet without the 
kids.  You should have seen it when the kids were around;  
it was truly a house then.” 

	“Well, you’ve got your grandchildren to share it with,”  
John said, looking over the layout of the place.  “I’m sure 
Lizzy’s boys terrorize this place ten times worse than we 
ever did.”

	“When I get to see them.  Your mom and I usually end up 
going to Proxima Three; they haven’t been here in over two 
years.”  David looked back to his son. “I wish your mom was 
here to see you. It would make her so happy.”
	
	“It’s better that she’s with Lizzy.  We can’t stay 
around long enough for her to get back.  I’ve got a ton of 
stuff waiting for me back on Babylon Five.  Now that Clark’s 
out of the way, we may be able to stop in more often,”  John 
admitted. 
	 
	David nodded in agreement, then looked quickly toward 
Delenn.  “Look at me, I’m being a terrible host. Come inside 
both of you.”  He gestured toward the house.  “If your 
mother saw this, she’d tan my hide.” Delenn and David 
started toward the house as John spoke.
	
	“Go on in and show her around. I’ll grab the bags.”

	When he stepped inside the living room, he paused 
momentarily, glancing around.  A small smile played across 
his face as he realized his parents hadn’t changed anything 
since his last visit.  Hearing voices upstairs, he climbed 
the steps, two at a time.  “Dad, where you want this stuff?”  
he asked, glancing around the corner.  He saw his father and 
Delenn looking into one of the bedrooms; he was giving her 
the grand tour.  

	“Your bedroom, son,”  David said gesturing.

	John stepped around the corner, depositing one of the 
bags on the floor as he opened the door.  Retrieving it, he 
stepped into the room as the door swung open.  He’d almost 
forgotten how small his room had been.  He smiled as he saw 
the books and manual standing neatly on his desk, just as 
he’d left them so many years before.  His eyes trailed over 
the models along the shelves, the old baseball, his glove. 
Then his eyes fell on the picture on the dresser.  He 
lowered the bags to the floor and stepped forward, picking 
it up.  It was a picture of his and Anna’s wedding.  He felt 
a lump in his throat as he stared at it.  He wanted to 
remember her like this---happy, smiling, in his arms.  Not 
like she’d been when she came back to Babylon 5.  That 
wasn’t his Anna; it was a dark thing in female form, the 
proverbial siren come to call him away.  This was his Anna, 
that beautiful smile that seemed to light up the entire area 
around her.  He wished she’d never come back.  He couldn’t 
get those images out of his mind.  His thoughts flashed to 
her standing in his quarters, then to the white star, on 
Z’Ha’dum, and lastly to the balcony right before the white 
star came down.  He shuttered, closing his eyes momentarily, 
stopping his thoughts. This is not the time or the place to 
lose it, John.  Get a grip and deal with this like you told 
Delenn you were.  Opening his eyes, he looked at the picture 
again.  “This is how I will remember you.”  He whispered, as 
his fingers trailed along the surface as if he could 
actually touch the face beneath.  

	He heard the footsteps behind him and turned toward 
them quickly, lowering the picture, turning it in his hand.  
David and Delenn stepped inside as David spoke.  “And this 
was John’s room.  Danny uses it now when he comes for a 
visit.” 
	
	He looked to his son, smiling as John stepped forward, 
shoving the picture into his hand as he took Delenn’s arm.  
“Let me show you around.”  He said almost too quickly.  	  
	
	As John walked Delenn around the room, David glanced 
down at the picture in his hand, his eyes widening. He 
cursed quietly, moving quickly out of the room.  Damn, he’d 
forgotten completely about it being in there.  He hoped his 
son would forgive his forgetfulness; he hadn’t meant for 
that to happen.  Depositing it into his own bedroom, he 
returned down the hall as John was finishing the small tour.  
His son glanced at him as David nodded slightly with his 
eyes.  John smiled, then gave Delenn a hug from behind.  
“Have you seen the rest of the house?”  he asked.

	“It’s so big.”  Delenn nodded, smiling.  “I think it’s 
magnificent, David.”  

	The older man nodded. “Thank you.  With you and John 
here for a few days, it’ll feel more like a home again.  I 
hope you don’t mind eating an old man’s cooking.”
	
	Delenn laughed.  “If I can survive your son’s, I can 
survive yours.  I would like to help in anyway I can, we 
don’t want to impose.”  John’s father couldn’t possibly cook 
any worse than he did.  It was a good thing John had a 
future in diplomacy, because as a cook, he would never make 
it.  She could still remember his attempt at flarn two years 
ago.  He had tried so hard to make her dinner, she hated to 
disappoint him, but it had been simply awful.

	“It’s a good thing I haven’t poisoned her.”  John 
whispered, kissing her hair.  “I’d have a diplomatic 
incident on my hands.”

	David laughed. “I’m not that bad.  I can’t compare to 
his mother’s abilities, but you can eat mine.”  He motioned 
them toward the door.  “You want something to drink?  Juice, 
tea, coffee or something?  I’m sure the trip was tiring.”

	“Actually,”  Delenn said with a smile.  “I’d like to 
see the farm. John has told me so much about it; I can not 
wait to experience it.”

	John grinned.  “Tell you what, Dad.  You make some tea, 
and we’ll go exploring.  I promise to have her back in an 
hour.  Then we can visit, deal?”

	‘Deal.” David Sheridan agreed as they moved down the 
steps.

- - - - - - - - - - 

	Delenn reminded John of a child in the candy store.  
She wanted to see everything.  They moved to the barn where 
he showed her the horses.  She had never seen a horse before 
and was slightly amazed when he informed her that they were 
for riding.  At the look on her face, he assured her that 
the animals weren’t harmed in any way; they enjoyed the 
exercise as much as the humans riding them.  He promised to 
take her for a ride before they left, wanting her to 
experience what he was unable to put into words.  

	He took her along the small orchard, explaining which 
trees grew which fruit, showing her the small blossoms that 
would eventually bare that fruit later in the year.  All in 
all, they simply enjoyed themselves, immersing their 
thoughts into the more pleasant things in life.  
	
	It had grown hotter as the day progressed, and by the 
time they started back to the house, Sheridan was wishing 
he’d thought to change clothes.  He’d already discarded his 
suit jacket, but he still felt uncomfortable.  “Aren’t you 
hot?”  he asked, glancing toward Delenn as she walked next 
to him, looking out across the countryside.

	“Hmmm--no, not really.”  

	He shook his head.  “Don’t tell me; this is pleasant 
weather on Minbar.”  He teased.  She didn’t even look 
uncomfortable in this heat. He could feel his hair starting 
to stick to his forehead when he brushed it back with a 
hand.   

	“The humidity is higher here, but essentially, yes.”  
She glanced at him, starting to grin.  “You’ve just been 
spoiled by the environment of the station.  It does you good 
to get out and smell the fresh air, feel ground beneath your 
feet, even if it is every six or seven years.”
	
	John laughed, drawing her against him.  “Oh, you are 
funny.  I think I’ve had just about enough of feeling 
planets beneath my feet for a while; I’m ready to go home.  
It seems a lot longer than two months since I’ve been there.  
I miss my station--”  Then he caught himself and what he’d 
said.  “Well, I guess it’s not mine anymore.”  He added 
softly, his steps slowing.

	Delenn heard the tone of his voice and glanced toward 
him, interlocking her fingers with his.  She knew how much 
he hated resigning; he’d only done it to protect his friends 
and crew.  If the league hadn’t voted him in as President, 
she wasn’t sure what he would have done.  Their lives would 
have been drastically changed. Would I have stayed on 
Babylon 5 as Ambassador, forcing him to endure being on the 
station without authority?  Probably not.  It is better this 
way.  She couldn’t see them in any other arrangement, at 
least none that John would have been happy with.   “No, it’s 
not your station, you have an entire Alliance to worry about 
now.”  

	“More prestige?” he offered, grinning.

	“More responsibility.” She retorted, smiling.

	John groaned, making a face. “It’s going to be a 
headache.”  He muttered.  “I don’t know the first thing 
about being a President.”

	“Of course you do. It’s the same principles that you 
utilized while in command of Babylon Five, just to a larger 
extent.”  She grinned as she heard him grunt.  “Instead of 
being on C&C all day, you get to be in the council 
chambers.”

	“Oh, that just really sweetens the deal; thank you very 
much my dear.  I can see the headlines now: after the first 
week, ISA President John Sheridan has spaced the entire 
delegate of Ambassadors.”

	“It will not be that bad.”

	Again he grunted.  “Do me a favor, say that to me again 
in a week, after I’ve gotten a taste of what’s in store.  
With as many problems as we ran into just getting them to 
respond against the Shadows, I’ll be lucky if I have any 
hair left in a month.”  He muttered as they neared the 
house.  

	As they walked through the shade of the trees, John 
paused a moment, enjoying the gentle breeze that filtered 
across them.  “Mmm--that feels better, I was beginning to 
think I was going to roast out in that sun.”  

	“When are you going to tell your father?”  Delenn 
asked, driving his thoughts back to the present situation 
and the reason they’d really come out here.  She knew he was 
putting it off.  If he could get away from here without 
saying anything, he’d do it.  He stood quietly, eyes closed, 
letting the wind rustle through his damp hair.  “John--?”  
she questioned again.  “The longer you put it off, the 
harder it’s going to be.”  She whispered.
	
	“I know.”  He said finally, releasing his breath 
harshly.  “Not yet, I don’t want to spoil the mood.”  He 
looked toward the house as he opened his eyes.  “He’s been 
through hell Delenn.  I don’t want to add to his pain right 
now.  Let’s just enjoy the time we have, ok?”  He looked at 
her then, his eyes pleading with her not to press.  

	“For now.”  She said, resigning herself to his wishes.  
“But understand--I will not let you leave here without 
telling him.”  She said firmly.  

	“I wouldn’t do that.”  He said quickly, surprised that 
she had read actually what he’d been thinking.  A quick 
escape, get away while you can, postpone the inevitable.

	“Yes, you would.”

	“All right, maybe I would.”  He admitted, leaning 
against the trunk of a nearby tree.  “Why now?  Can’t we 
just enjoy ourselves?  We could tell him another time; I 
mean we’ve got twenty years.”

	“Would you have told me,”  she asked firmly, “if I 
hadn’t found out through Lorien?  Would you have told me?”

	He stared at her, not sure how to respond.  He had 
considered not saying anything, letting her go on as if 
nothing had happened, but she had found out and by doing so, 
made it a moot point.  “I don’t know.”  He admitted, 
truthfully.  “I hadn’t decided yet.” 

	Delenn stared at him, slightly confused by his answer.  
Did he truly not understand why this was so important?  How 
could he justify keeping this a secret from everyone, 
including her?  “John, don’t you see that by telling us, 
your father, you’re giving him an opportunity to utilize 
what time you have left?”  He frowned at her statement.  “If 
he didn’t know, he couldn’t be with you, as you are saying--
enjoying yourselves--because he wouldn’t know how short that 
time is.  By informing him of the limitation, he can seize 
those moments and take them for what they are.”

	She reached out, caressing his chest.  “When can you 
guarantee we will be back to see your family?”  she asked 
softly.

	“I can’t.  You know that Delenn. There are no 
guarantees.”
	
	She nodded.  “Exactly.  By not telling him now, you 
could be robbing him of the last moments he’ll have with 
you.  Is that what you truly want?”  She saw his reaction 
and knew she’d hit a nerve.

	“No.”

	“Let him make the best of this visit. Tell him the 
truth, John.  He’ll thank you for it.”  

	“Somehow I doubt that.”  He whispered, reaching out to 
take her hand.  “All right, I’ll tell him tomorrow.”  At the 
stern look she gave him, he smiled. “I promise, tomorrow.  
Let’s go back inside before he thinks we stood him up, we’ve 
been gone for way over an hour.”  He led her back inside, 
into the relief of the air conditioning, knowing his 
thoughts wouldn’t be as easy to relieve as the heat.  
	 
-  -  -  -  -  -  -

	Throughout rest of the evening, they simply sat around, 
talking and enjoying themselves.  John conveniently side- 
stepped all conversation concerning Babylon 5 and what had 
been going on.  Instead, he kept going back to Lizzy’s 
family, the farm, Minbar---anything but his life.  David 
noticed this, but didn’t acknowledge the fact to his son. 
Instead, he went along with the subject change, simply glad 
to be able to spend time together. 

	 By the time they retired to bed, David had many 
unanswered questions floating in his mind.  Why was John 
being so evasive?  He should have known with all the 
diplomatic experience I have, I’d realize what he was doing.  
What was so important to him that he feels he must all but  
lie to me to keep it hidden?   David laid down silently in 
bed, staring at the darkened ceiling.  He knew he’d get 
little sleep tonight.  Something was bothering his son and 
because of that, it bothered him.  I hope that John will say 
something about it tomorrow, I not sure how long I can go 
along with pretending to be ignorant, he thought.

	The next morning, David was up with the sun as usual 
and had breakfast going before they came downstairs.  “Good 
morning.” He said, smiling as they stepped into the kitchen. 
	
	John made a bee line for the coffee, then stopped, 
turning to his father.  “Are you cooking eggs?”  he said, 
smiling.  He stepped next to the older man.  “You are!  Do 
you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had a real 
egg?”  He took a deep whiff of the air, his taste buds 
watering from the smell.    	
	
	David laughed.  “Then sit down and eat.”  He commanded, 
motioning to the table.  “I’ll be done here in just a 
moment.”  

	John retrieved his coffee, then poured Delenn a glass 
of milk, handing it to her as they sat down.  “Eggs, I can’t 
believe it.” He muttered, happily.  

	David finished cooking, then carried the plate to the 
table, joining them.  John dug in immediately as David 
watched, grinning.  “I was thinking about something this 
morning--something you and I haven’t done in quite some 
time.”

	John glanced at him, frowning as he ate.  “What?”

	“We need to go fishing.”  He said brightly.  “I think 
it’s been almost twenty years since you and I have been 
together.” He glanced toward Delenn.  “Has John ever taken 
you fishing?”

	She looked across the table at him strangely.  
“Fishing?  John mentioned something about that yesterday as 
we drove past the river.  I do not know what fishing is.  No 
I have never been.”  She admitted.  At the look on David’s 
face, she realized that she was about to find out.

	“It’s settled then.  After breakfast, we’re going 
fishing.”  He took a deep swallow of his coffee, smiling.  
Not only would he enjoy showing Delenn the basics behind the 
principle of fishing, but it would get his son into the 
boat, with no escape.  He’d get some answers then.  A few 
well-phrased questions and his determination could pull 
anything out of his son, whether he wanted to tell or not.  
He’d learned that many years ago.  Sometimes being a 
diplomat paid off, especially when raising teenagers.

	“What kind of shape is the boat in?”  John asked after 
swallowing.

	“Well, I haven’t used it in--”  he thought a moment,  
“--probably a couple of years.  Danny and I took it out last 
time he was here.  It’s stored snugly in the barn, should be 
fine.  When we get finished, you can help me pull it out and 
give it a once over.  All the equipment’s still stored 
inside, so we won’t have to hunt for it.  We should be out 
on the river no later than eight.”

	John smiled.  “It’s been ages since I’ve been fishing. 
I guess since the last time we went out together.” He 
glanced at Delenn.  “Fishing reminds me of meditation.  It’s 
very relaxing.”
	
	David laughed at his son’s comparison.  “I’ve heard 
fishing described in many ways but never quite like that.”
He grinned, glancing toward Delenn.  “My, being exposed to 
the Minbari culture has done wonders for his disposition.”  
As John rolled his eyes at the statement, Delenn laughed 
softly, smiling at the father.  “This is going to wonderful.  
I think you’re going to like it, Delenn.  There’s nothing 
like snagging your first bass.”  He said happily.

	“Snagging your first bass?”  she repeated.  “Perhaps 
you two should tell me exactly what you’re getting me into. 
What does this fishing entail?”  

	“A day snuggled together in a small boat, rocking on 
the water---” John smiled toward her.  “A few lines out and 
if we’re lucky a couple of fish good to go.”

	“Are we going to eat them?”  

	David nodded.  “Of course.  What’s the use of fishing 
if you can’t reap what you sow?”  He laughed at Delenn’s 
expression.  “Trust us, you’ll like it.”  He reassured.

	She glanced at them dubiously as John grinned.  He took 
a deep drink, then motioned in her direction.  “Your going 
to have to change, though.  Can’t have you fishing in that 
dress--it’s just not customary.” He gave her a wicked smile.

	“Then what do you suggest I wear?”
	
	John opened his mouth to reply, but David answered her.  
“Pants.  Lizzy’s got some clothes still upstairs.  I’ll give 
you some of her pants to wear before we go out to the barn. 
They should fit.”  

	“Pants?”  Delenn repeated, staring at him.  She didn’t 
want to offend David, but she did not wear pants.  She had 
never worn pants in her life. She had no desire to wear 
pants.  It just seemed undignified.  
	
	John leaned toward her with a smile. “It’s ok, Delenn, 
we’re out here in the middle of nowhere.  No one will see 
you, it’s just us.”  He replied as if reading her thoughts.
“I think you’ll look stunning.”  He tried to reassure her.  
There was no way she could possibly fish in her dresses he 
didn’t even want to attempt it.  Better to talk her into 
this, or not go at all.

	“Very well.”  She said with a sigh, drinking her milk.

-  -  -  -  -
	
	True to his word, David supplied her with a bundle of  
clothes before he and John changed and headed out for the 
barn.  Delenn stood in the middle of the bedroom eyeing the 
bundle of clothes in her arms.  She knew it was customary 
for human women to wear pants or slacks all the time, they 
thought no more about it.  She had seen this on Babylon 5.  
She had enjoyed her own exploration into being and acting 
more human from time to time, in her mannerisms, her dress--
but never by wearing pants.  She slowly unfolded the blue 
jeans that David gave her as she laid the other things on 
the bed, staring at them.  How can something so coarse and 
rough be worn against the skin?  Then she glanced to the 
shirts.  She had two, one was a blue tee shirt and the 
other, the other looked more like it should have belonged to 
John, not his sister.  
	
	With a sigh, resigning herself to her fate, she slowly 
began to change clothes.  Under any other circumstance, she 
would never have done this, but John and David had seemed so 
sure and confident, she hated to disappoint them.  When she 
was finished, completely attired in all the articles, she 
reluctantly glanced at herself in the mirror.  She had 
avoided looking in that direction through the entire 
process, dreading what she might see.

	She began smiling almost instantly, John had been 
right.  She did not mind this look after all.  She turned 
slowly, trying to see herself from all angles.  Though she 
would never dress like this on Babylon 5, for it wasn’t 
fitting for an Ambassador, she realized that this look did 
indeed appeal to her.  Aside from her bone crest, she could 
have passed as a human.  The pants didn’t feel so rough once 
they were on, which surprised her.  She would have to ask 
John about making a cultural exchange in terms of denim.  
The Minbari worker caste had seamstresses in their ranks.  
They would find this material to be quite interesting. With 
a broad smile on her face, she left for the barn.

	She could see David and John standing over a small boat 
near the entrance of the barn doors as she stepped down the 
walk.  They had the casing opened to some sort of equipment 
toward the far end, completely engrossed in whatever they 
were doing to it.  As she stepped up to them, she spoke, “I 
am ready to go fishing now.”  
	
	John and his father looked up simultaneously at the 
sound of her voice.  David grinned as John smiled and 
whistled.  “Wow, I like that.  You should wear blue jeans 
more often.”  
	
	Delenn blushed slightly and moved her attention to the 
boat.  “This is what we are fishing in?”  she asked, running 
her hand over the smooth metal side.  It looked smaller than 
she imagined. It only had three slats, which she assumed 
were seats but wasn’t certain and the entire boat was no 
more than two meters across.

	David thumped the side of the boat affectionately.  
“This is it.  I’ve had her for over forty years.  She’s a 
bit old, but still in great shape.  Hasn’t let me down yet.”  
he said grinning.  

	John closed the compartment with a snap.  “All done. If 
it won’t start now, it’s not going to without an overhaul.”  
He wiped his hands on his pants, nodding to his father as he 
took a step away from the boat.  “Crank her up.” 

	David reached into the boat, fingers sliding over the 
control panel for the engine.  Depressing a button, he held 
his breath, hoping it would activate.  Within an instant, 
the engine jumped to life, purring sweetly as he grinned.  
He shut it down quickly, nodding his thanks toward his son.  
“We’re set.  All we need now is the bait.”
	
	“Bait?”  Delenn said slightly confused.

	David laughed.  “Why don’t you help John get this into 
the river and I’ll take care of the bait.”  He reached out, 
patting her on the shoulder.  “I don’t think you’re ready 
for that just yet.”
	
	He turned, smiling and walking around the side of the 
barn as Delenn gave John a bewildered look.  He grinned.  
“Maybe it’s best that you don’t ask, hon.  You’ll see soon 
enough.” With a slight chuckle, he motioned her to step 
around the boat.  “Let’s get this sucker in the water.”

	 Maneuvering the boat down to the river was easier than 
Delenn had thought.  She watched with wide eyes as it bobbed 
with the small waves, sliding slowly down river as the 
current snaked out for it.  John tied the rope around a low 
tree branch, holding the boat from floating away as he 
smiled toward Delenn.  “Are you all right with this, 
Delenn?”  he asked suddenly.  “I know it was kind of spur of 
the moment. If you don’t want to go fishing, we won’t.”  He 
said honestly.  

	She stepped up next to him shaking her head.  “No, I 
don’t mind. I just have no idea what to do.  I know your 
father is excited about this. I don’t want to be the one to 
say no.”  She admitted as John wrapped his arms around her.  
“I find some of your customs strange,----”  She said softly, 
watching the river slide by a few feet from them. ‘Having to 
dress a certain way in order to fish.”  She shook her head.  
“I just don’t understand.”
	
	John laughed softly.  “It’s not mandatory that you 
dress in pants; it’s just easier, Delenn.  It keeps you from 
getting hooked or possibly spurred by the fish, or getting 
your dress dirty. There’s an assortment of other reasons, I 
just can’t think of any right now.”  

	“Hooked?”  she asked, glancing back at him.

	“Well, yeah.  It happens.  We have to use hooks to 
catch them.  Here, I’ll show you.”  He released her and 
pulled the boat back toward them, reaching in to remove a 
rod.  He stepped back, holding it out, working something 
small in his fingers.  “This is a hook.”  He held out his 
fingers showing her the barbed piece of metal.  “The way it 
works is we place the bait on here, then pitch it into the 
water.  When a fish hits it--it sucks the bait into it’s 
mouth--you jerk.  Now if your lucky, these little things 
right here---see the barbed points?”  he asked, running his 
finger tip over them. “Those embed inside the fish’s mouth, 
hooking it.” He grinned.  “Then you bring it in, sometimes 
they put up a hell of a fight.  That’s what makes it all 
worth while.”

	Delenn had listened wide eyed, not believing what she 
heard.  They actually tortured these poor animals, grabbing 
them with that thorny hook in their mouths!   She looked to 
John quickly, her eyes full of disbelief.  “That’s 
barbaric!”
	
	He was taken aback by her response.  “What?  No, it’s 
not.  It’s just fish, babe.”  He was confused.  He had 
expected a reaction from her, but this hadn’t been it.  He 
sighed.  “It’s sport; most of the fish aren’t really hurt 
when you catch them.”  He tried to explain.  “Their mouths 
are mostly cartilage; they don’t have any feeling there.”

	“How do you know?”
	
	He blinked.  “How do I know?’
	
	She nodded.  “Yes, how do you know you’re not hurting 
them?  These poor fish are just swimming around and then you 
hook them in the mouth.  How do you know that doesn’t hurt?”  
she demanded.

	I don’t believe this!  He thought quickly.  How can she 
take something simply like fishing and turn it around until 
it sounds like I’m a monster for doing it.  “I just know!”  
he said exasperated.  “Humans have been doing this for 
centuries; it’s no big deal.”  

	“Maybe not to you, but what about the fish?”  she 
returned in the same tone.

	John groaned, closing his eyes momentarily.  “Delenn, 
you’re giving me a headache.  Just accept what I’m telling 
you, this does not hurt the damn fish, all right?”  God, if 
we catch any, she is not watching while we clean them!  I 
will never hear the end of that!

	“You don’t have to be so defensive.”  She retorted.

	“I’m not!”  he shot back, then lowered his voice. “I’m 
not, you’re just---blowing this all out of proportion.  This 
is suppose to be enjoyable, relaxing---remember?”

	“So you have said.”

	“It is. Fishing is fun.  You’ve just got to get into 
the right frame of mind.  If you keep thinking you’re 
hurting the damn things, this is going to be a very long 
day, hon.  I personally would like to enjoy myself, catch a 
few fish and just take pleasure from the river.  Think we 
can do that?”  he asked, lifting his eyebrows as he looked 
at her hopefully.

	“Very well.”  She muttered as he squeezed her 
shoulders.
	
	“Remember, we’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves.” He 
whispered against her neck.
	
	She sighed against his lips.  “We’re supposed to be 
here to talk to your father.”  She said softly.  

	John groaned, slowly pulling away. “I know, I will.”  
He said quietly, staring over her shoulder at the river 
sliding slowly by.  

	“You said today.”

	“I will.”  He said firmly.    
	 
	David saved him from continuing the conversation as he 
walked up grinning, holding a large container in his hands.  
“Sorry it took so long. These little buggers were down in 
the bottom of the box.  I swear I moved a ton of dirt before 
I found ‘em.” 
	
	John grinned as Delenn lowered her gaze to the dirty 
white container.  “The bait is alive?”  she asked, looking 
quickly at David as he nodded.
	
	“You bet ya, it’s the only way to properly catch fish.”

	“Let’s just get in the boat.”  John mumbled, steering 
her around toward the waiting boat.  Delenn shot him a look. 
He feigned ignorance to it as he pulled at the rope, 
bringing the small boat back to the bank.  
	
	David sat the container in the back near the motor as 
John held onto the bow of the little craft to keep it from 
rocking as he stepped in.  Turning with a smile, he held out 
his hand, helping Delenn step over the side.  John grabbed 
her shoulder, keeping her from loosing her balance as the 
boat slid sideways from the added weight and movement.  He 
didn’t need her falling into the water.  She’d kill them 
both. As David instructed her how to sit and where, John 
untied the rope and slid the boat further away from the 
bank, jumping in.  Delenn gripped the sides as it tilted 
roughly, glaring at him.  He grinned.  “It’s ok; it’s not 
going to tip over.”  

	“As long as you don’t stand up and do anything stupid.”  
David replied glancing at his son.  John couldn’t help but 
laugh, remembering when he was younger and had done just 
that.  

	He had caught the biggest fish in his life.  He still 
swore it was at least eight pounds.  His dad had been 
leaning over the edge trying to grab the flopping fish in 
the net and John had stood up, out of excitement and worry 
that the line was going to break.  When he did, he took that 
one step forward toward the fish and shifted the entire boat 
sideways.  David’s added weight sent the small boat 
completely over, spilling them, their tackle and everything 
else into the water.  He’d lost the fish, his rod and his 
dignity that morning.  It took them better than a month to 
dry the engine out and replace all the tackle.  His father 
just wouldn’t let him live it down.

	“I have no plans of standing up.”  Delenn assured him, 
tightening her grip on the sides of the boat.
	
	“It’s not you I’m worried about.”  David muttered, 
glancing to his grimacing son.  Apparently he was 
remembering the same incident.    
		 	  
	“I think I learned my lesson.”  John rose slightly, 
keeping his weight low as he shifted around, moving next to 
Delenn as she reluctantly released one side of the boat.  
	
	“Sit still.”  She commanded.   

	“You’re all right.”  He said grinning.   “This boat has 
only tipped over once.  It’s going to sway when we move 
around.  Haven’t you ever been in a boat before?”  She gave 
him that look again.  He shook his head.  “I should have 
known better to ask, sorry.”  

	“Never fear my dear.”  David said grinning at her.  
“With me at the helm all is well.  I’ve been traveling on 
this river more years than I care to count.  You’re in good 
hands.”  He reached back, activating the engine as the boat 
slid downstream. 

	“How did it tip over that one time?”  she asked, 
watching the sides move up and down.  It was a bit 
disorienting and she had to focus her gaze somewhere else as 
she felt her stomach churn.  

	David laughed.  “Ask mister--“I got it dad, don’t 
worry.”--He said pointing a finger at his son. 

	John grinned, shrugging his shoulders.  “It was an 
accident.  I’d rather not go into the details right now.”
He glanced at Delenn and frowned.  “You all right?  You’re 
starting to look pale.”
		
	“Ah hell, don’t look at the water, Delenn.”  David said 
quickly.  “You’re going to get seasick.  Look at us or the 
sides of the bank.”  She did as he ordered, looking quickly 
to the passing trees as they made their way up river.  Her 
stomach was doing flip flops, rolling with the waves as she 
swallowed hard. Don’t think about it, she thought softly to 
herself. Using a technique from Minbari meditation, she 
slowly got her body back under control. 

	“Why didn’t you tell me she’d never been in a boat 
before?  She’s going to be sicker than a dog.”  David 
demanded of his son.

	“I didn’t know.”
	
	David grunted.  “Fine husband you’re going to be. 
You’re supposed to know these things.”

	“Like we have every opportunity to go boating.  We live 
on a space station, for God sakes,”  he shot back 
sarcastically.  “The subject just never came up.”

	David grunted, then concentrated on guiding the boat 
into a small inlet, around a fallen tree.  John glanced back 
to Delenn, who sat silently, watching the bank.  “You going 
to be all right?”  he asked softly.

	She nodded, not trusting herself to look at either one 
of them until the boat stopped.  “I will be.”  She muttered.
John sighed, shaking his head.  If she gets sick, I’ll never 
get her in another boat for the rest of her life.  

	“Hang in there, Delenn.  We’re almost there.  Right 
under those big trees. It’s the best place on the river,”  
David said glancing at her hastily.  “Don’t puke on us 
girl.”  

	“I am not going to be sick.”  She replied softly.

	David snorted, shaking his head. “Ya, John’s mom said 
the same thing.  Next thing I knew--pow, she was tossing her 
cookies.  Something about women and boats, I just don’t 
understand it.”

	John looked at his father.  “Well if you don’t shut up 
about it, she is going to throw up.”  

	“I’ll be fine when the boat stops.”

	“Sorry.”  David mumbled apologetically.   

	John shook his head. Sometimes he couldn’t believe the 
things that came out of his father’s mouth.  It wasn’t 
really embarrassing, but it was awkward.  He was too down to 
earth.  He turned his head, watching Delenn closely.  She 
really didn’t look all that good.  Why didn’t I think about 
this? I should have known she’d get sick. We should have 
fished off the damn bank.  As the boat slowed, she glanced 
at him, realized she was being watched and gave him a small 
smile. 

	“I’m fine.”  She said, seeing the look in his eyes, 
knowing he didn’t believe her.  

	“Son, get back there and tie us up to that tree 
branch.”  David instructed, drawing his attention from 
Delenn as the small boat slid beneath the canopy of 
branches.  As John moved cautiously off, Delenn sighed, 
feeling the cool breeze caress her face.  It was much cooler 
under the shade of the large branches.  She felt better 
almost immediately.  The boat rocked from John moving around 
in the rear, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle now. 
She smiled at David as he looked toward her questionably.
	
	“I am not going to be ill.”  

	He smiled immediately.  “Good, you had me worried there 
for a minute.  Just sit there and relax, John and I will get 
everything ready.”  He reached back, shutting down the small 
engine as silence radiated around them.  The steady lapping 
of water against the boat, a periodic cry of some distant 
animal--she thought a bird--- were the only things that 
interrupted the peacefulness.  But truthfully she didn’t 
consider those things as interruptions.  The smell of the 
water was overwhelming as she closed her eyes and smiled 
softly.  She could defiantly get used to this.

	She heard scuffling beside her, then the boat tilted 
sharply.  She opened her eyes, gripping the side as John sat 
down next to her.  He reached out, steadying her quickly as 
he saw her start.  “Easy.”  He whispered, smiling.  

	David reached down, fumbling with what John had showed 
her on the bank, the long rod with line and a---hook on the 
end.  “It’s tangled. Grab the end,”  he complained as John 
did as he asked, disconnecting the two poles that were 
twisted together.  John jerked his head back quickly as the 
rods came up and forward, swishing past his face.
	
	“Hey, be careful!”  He complained, giving his father a 
dirty look.  
	
	David grinned wickedly.  “Sorry, I wasn’t paying 
attention to the end.  Don’t just sit there.  Let’s get 
these lines in the water.  You think the fish are just going 
to jump in the damn boat?”

	John muttered something under his breath that Delenn 
couldn’t quite make out as he reached for the remaining 
poles.   
	 
	She watched quietly as they disconnected the small 
hooks from the rods, leaning them against the side of the 
boat.  As John reached for the large white container David 
brought aboard, Delenn momentarily wondered what was inside.  
He had said he was going for bait.  The question was what 
did they consider bait for catching fish?

	John caught her curious look and glanced toward her as 
he removed the lid.  “All we have to do now is bait the hook 
and pitch them over the side.”

	She leaned forward slightly, peering inside the 
container with a frown.  “There is nothing inside but dirt.”
	
	David chuckled.  “It’s what’s under the dirt.”
	
	As if to answer her look, John stuck his hand inside, 
digging under the soil slightly.  Delenn’s eyes widened as 
she saw something wiggle, then---a tail?  She sat back, 
quickly pulling her head away as John pulled out something 
long and squirming.  “What is that?”  she asked, watching it 
squirm around his fingers as he laid it in the palm of his 
hand.

	“It’s a worm.” He showed it to her. “An earthworm 
actually.”  He said, poking it slightly with his index 
finger.  “The fish love them--what you do is place this on 
the hook---”

	“How will it stay on the hook as much as it’s moving?”  
she wondered aloud.

	David stopped what he was doing to listen to the 
exchange.  He found it humorous how his son was seriously 
trying to explain the basics behind fishing. His patience 
had apparently increased greatly since he’d met Delenn.  
David was still finding it hard to look at her and not see 
an alien.  She looked human, aside from her bone crest, but 
he knew she was Minbari, or half Minbari at least.  He 
wondered how many similar conversations they’d had over 
other human customs?  The differences in the races must have 
given them a hell of a time during the past years.  He knew 
a little about the Minbari. They had, after all, been at war 
with them--less than fifteen years ago.  To see his son so 
deeply in love with one was slightly disconcerting, but he 
would support him regardless.  In the short span of time he 
had known Delenn, he could clearly see the love she held for 
John.  She was a good woman---Minbari--whatever.  She had a 
kind heart.  

	“It won’t babe, look.”  John brought the hook over and 
explained by wrapping the worm around it.  It immediately 
began crawling off across his palm again.  “We’d never get 
them into the water. They’d be thrown off when we cast.  So 
what we have to do is poke the hook through it’s body and--”

	Delenn reached out, stopping his hand as he moved for 
the worm.  “You’re going to poke the hook through its body?”  
she asked with a look of disbelief.

	David stifled a laugh as John slumped, exhaling 
roughly.  “Delenn, we have to keep the worm on the hook.  
It’s the only way,”  he said softly.

	“But to stab the worm?”  She shook her head sharply.  
“That’s brutal!”
	
	“No, it’s not,”  he said with a sigh.  “We’re not going 
to have this conversation again, are we?”
	
	“I don’t see how you can enjoy doing this.  It’s 
nothing but torture for all involved,”  she said, releasing 
his hand quickly.

	John stared at her.  Her words suddenly bringing back 
the hell he’d gone through when Clark’s forces had captured 
him.  He still wasn’t completely over that. He woke up  
screaming sometimes late at night.  He blinked once, looking 
back at the small worm in his hand.  She was right.  He was 
torturing the worm, what was the point?  The possibility of 
catching a few fish?  And if they didn’t catch anything, the 
worm was just dead.  Died for nothing.  His heart suddenly 
wasn’t into fishing anymore.  He lowered his hand slowly, 
laying the worm back into the dirt, watching it sluggishly 
begin to dig it’s way back to safety. He released his breath 
slowly, not really aware that he’d been holding it.  “You’re 
right,” he whispered, quietly.     
	
	David looked at his son, a frown forming on his 
features.  What had changed his mind so suddenly?  His eyes 
darted from John to Delenn and back to John as he held up 
his hand.  “Wait a second; let’s not give up so easily.  At 
least put out a couple of lines--see what happens,”  he 
suggested, lifting an eyebrow in hope.

	John shook his head lightly, watching the worm.  “No, 
I’d rather not, Delenn doesn’t want to injure the worm and I 
see her point.”  Shifting his eyes away, he leaned over the 
side of the boat, washing his hand in the warm water.  
“Let’s just go back.  We’ll do something else today,”  he 
added as he wiped his hand across his pant leg.  

	David didn’t agree, and he voiced his thoughts.  “Son, 
you’ve always loved to fish, why don’t we---”

	John interrupted him sharply, glancing toward him with 
hard eyes.  “I don’t want to fish any more, all right?  
Leave it at that.”  He laid the rods down roughly against 
the floor of the boat, then closed the container.

	Delenn watched him, realizing that what she had said 
bothered him greatly.  She hadn’t chosen her words properly.  
Torture had been the wrong thing to say; it hit too close to 
home.  His eyes were haunted as he stared across the river.  
She wanted to take them back, to start the conversation 
again, but knew it was impossible.  She had no idea what he 
had endured; he wouldn’t talk to her about it.  But his face 
said more in those few seconds than any words ever could.  
She reached out, taking his hand in hers, caressing his 
knuckles.  “I’m sorry,”  she breathed.  “I did not mean for 
it to come out like that.”  She hadn’t wanted those memories 
to surface.  She’d hoped over time he could slowly forget 
the pain he had endured.  They were supposed to be enjoying 
themselves.  How could they do that like this?  “I want to 
go fishing; show me how.”  She pressed lightly.  She had to 
get him back to the present, out of those awful memories.

	After a few moments, he turned toward her slowly, 
squeezing her hand.	“Maybe another time,”  he returned.  All 
the light-heartedness had left his face; he looked dejected.

	“We are already on the boat.  Why not now?  I would 
like to learn,” she said giving him a small smile. 
	
	“Because your heart isn’t in it and neither is mine 
now,”  he admitted softly, lowering his eyes to their hands.  

	“How do I know if my heart is not---in it, if I have 
never tried it?”  she replied, shaking his hand to draw his 
attention back to her.  “All this is new to me. I shall 
attempt to adapt and enjoy this, because I know that you do.  
If I seem reluctant, please be patient with me.”

	“It’s not a big deal.”

	She smiled, then looked over to David who had been 
silently listening.  “To your father it is; he wants to go 
fishing with you----with us.” She returned her eyes to 
John’s.  “I don’t want to be the one to prevent this.  Will 
you please---bait my hook?”

	“I’d rather not,” he whispered, shaking his head. 
	
	David reached over and scooted the container toward his 
feet as John followed it with his eyes.  “I’ll bait the 
hook; you show her how to fish,”  he said with a nod, 
opening the box and quickly pulling out a worm.  John closed 
his eyes, grimacing slightly as his father proceeded to bait 
the hook.  He shuttered slightly, realizing he was probably 
never going to be able to fish again.  “Here.”  He felt a 
tap on his leg.  John opened his eyes, David held the rod 
toward him.  “Here, son.  Take this.”  Following the line 
down, his eyes locked on the squirming worm, embedded with 
the hook. It swayed slightly from side to side as the breeze 
shifted it.  He swallowed hard.  “John, take this,”  David 
said in a firm voice, all but shoving the pole into his lap.
He took the rod then; he had little choice.  

	He held it awkwardly in his hands, eyes tracking the 
worm as the hook slid side to side in, front of his face.  
“Show her how to use it,”  his father’s voice pressed as if 
from a distance. He couldn’t seem to stop watching the worm, 
twitching, it’s entire body impaled. His breath was short, 
coming out in quiet gasps.  Delenn took the rod suddenly 
from his hands, almost jerking it away from him.  He hadn’t 
realized he had been gripping it so tightly.  His eyes 
darted toward her, wide and full of anguish. 

	 She reached out with one hand, laying it on his face, 
feeling him shaking slightly.  “It’s all right,” she 
whispered, concern written in her features.  “Breath slowly.  
Don’t think about it.”  She wasn’t sure what actually was 
running through his mind, but she knew it had to do with his 
captivity, the reactions it was producing in him was enough 
to cause anxiety. “We’re just fishing, remember?”  She could 
see David staring at them, his face filled with alarm at his 
son’s response.  He hadn’t said a word, or made any move to 
interfere. For that Delenn was thankful.

	John blinked twice, running his tongue across his 
bottom lip as he nodded, sucking in a deep breath.  “Right,-
--”  he returned in a shaky voice,  “---fishing.”   He took 
a few more breaths, fighting to get himself back under 
control.  Delenn waited, her eyes locked on him.  He nodded 
after a moment and even tried to give her a smile.  He 
failed miserably; he knew it and so did she from the 
expression that crossed her face. Get a grip damnmit, you’re 
making a scene, he thought furiously.  Sitting up straight, 
he ran his hands through his hair, closing his eyes 
momentarily. He opened them quickly, focusing his attention 
on the task at hand.  “All right, fishing.  I’ll show you,” 
he replied hastily, reaching for the rod.  He flashed her a 
quick smile.  It was genuine.  He saw her visibly relax as 
she relinquished the rod back to his possession. “Hold it 
like this.”  He showed her how to grip it, then handed it 
back.  
	
	“What now?”  she inquired, holding the rod awkwardly.

	“Depress this with your thumb,”  he said indicating the 
button.  “Hold it down and flip the rod in the direction you 
want the line to go; then release the button.”  He helped 
her position her hands correctly, then assisted as they sent 
the line flying. He nodded as it hit the water and began to 
sink. Delenn smiled back at him, proud of her 
accomplishment.  “Let it drop for a moment, then crank this 
around in this direction.”  He showed her what he was 
talking about as she nodded.  “This reels the line back in, 
if we get a bite, I’ll explain in more detail.  Now just 
lean it against the side and wait for a fish.”  
	
	“That’s it?”  she asked, sitting the pole down.

	“That’s it,” he muttered, nodding his head.  He glanced 
over to his father. David was simply staring at him, as if 
he was trying to read his every thought.  John hated that 
look; he’d seen it too many times in his life.  He felt like 
his father’s eyes were boring holes into his body.  John 
shifted, drawing his leg back toward him, dropping his eyes 
to the floor of the boat.  The silence that engulfed them 
was unnerving; he knew it was focused on him.  He could 
still feel his dad’s eyes.  “Stop it,”  he said softly.  
“Put your damn lines out.”

	He heard his father sigh loudly, then movement of the 
rods.  He waited for the splash of the line hitting the 
water, but it never came.  He glanced up slowly to see his 
father sitting there with a worried expression on his face, 
the rods forgotten beside him.  He wasn’t going to get off 
that easy; he should have know better than to try. He never 
did get off easy when it came to his father’s questions.  He 
slumped his shoulders slightly, resting his upper weight on 
his elbow as he propped them on his knees.  “I’m fine,”  he 
muttered, squeezing his hands together.

	“Ever since you showed up yesterday, something’s been 
gnawing at you,” David said finally as John lowered his eyes 
again.  “When I try to find out what’s going on, you’ve been 
evasive with me. I’m not going to stand by and wait for you 
to tell me any longer.  I demand to know what’s tearing you 
up like this.”  He leaned forward toward his son.  “Does 
this have to do with what happened to you when you were 
captured?”  he asked in a softer tone.  He had been treated 
fairly well during his captivity, but then they hadn’t truly 
wanted him; he was just bait.  John had been the target.  
God only knew what his son had gone through in their hands. 
He shuttered slightly, just thinking about it.

	John shook his head slowly, refusing to look at his 
father.  That was the best opening he was going to get.  If 
he was going to tell him, he had to do it now.  There was no 
way in hell he could put this off any longer, no matter how 
much he wanted to.  “No, not really,”  he admitted.  “At 
least, that’s not what’s really bothering me.”  He took a 
shaky breath and slowly lifted his eyes.  His father was 
staring back as him intently, waiting.  He felt like those 
eyes were almost piercing into his soul.  He looked away 
again, focusing his eyes on Delenn.  She sat silently, hands 
clasped in her lap, simply watching.  As she caught his 
look, she nodded softly.  Tell him, was the way he 
interpreted the response.    
	
	“Son--what’s the matter?”  David whispered, reaching 
out to touch his hand, forcing him to look back at him.  

	“It’s not that simple,”  he whispered, shaking his 
head.

	“Nothing worth while ever is.”  David returned softly, 
his expression begging John to talk.  

	John sat there staring at him, then looked away. Just 
tell him damnit, his mind screamed.  Then he felt Delenn’s 
hand on his arm, rubbing it softly.  He looked back to his 
father quickly, taking a deep breath.  “I’ve only got twenty 
years to live,”  he said softly, feeling his stomach roll.  
The look that flashed across his father’s face in that 
instant made him want to throw up.  

	David sat back roughly against the motor, feeling like 
someone had just punched him hard in the gut.  His eyes 
widened painfully large as he sucked in a breath.  What did 
he say?  Twenty years, it wasn’t possible!  His voice was 
weak, barely above a whisper as he felt his heart beating 
wildly in his chest.  “Twenty years,----what----what---”  He 
couldn’t focus his thoughts.  Random images of John as a 
child growing up flashed through his mind.  This couldn’t be 
happening, not his son!  He still could see him as clearly 
as if it was yesterday, bringing him home from the hospital.  
He was so small, tiny in the blanket.  He felt tears falling 
down his cheeks before he was even aware he’d shed them.  
Twenty years!   “What happened?”  he finally managed, wiping 
his face with a shaking hand.  “How do you know---twenty 
years---?”
	
	God, he’s crying; I knew this was a mistake!  John 
thought furiously. “---I just know---”  he whispered, unsure 
of his own voice.  He swallowed hard, trying to keep control 
of his reactions and of this conversation.  He had to lower 
his eyes again.  He couldn’t see his father like this; it 
was tearing him up.  He focused on his own hands, staring at 
his nails, his knuckles--anything but the older man’s face.  
“I just know,” he repeated.

	“Do--do you have a disease? Can’t we find a cure?”  
David whispered with a tinge of hope in his voice.  He 
glanced quickly at Delenn; her expression sent chills down 
his spine.
	
	“I can’t cure this, Dad,” John whispered softly.  “It’s 
not a disease.  There’s nothing anyone can do for me.”
He closed his eyes, hearing Lorien’s voice again.  He has 
twenty years--then he will just stop.  Shuttering sharply, 
he forced his thoughts back to the present.  He couldn’t 
stand to relive that experience again, he just couldn’t.

	“Not a disease?  Then what---what happened son?”  David 
whispered, running his hand across his mouth. This couldn’t 
be real.

	“I took a leap of faith,”  John said sarcastically.


END [1/3]             (Commercial Break)

Part 2 of 3
	

	Here's part two, I hope all of you stayed with me, it gets a bit intense.


	This story takes place between the Babylon 5 episodes "RISING STAR"  and 
"DECONSTRUCTION OF FALLING STARS." It is therefore a gap filler.  Our first 
story entitled "WHO"S ON FIRST,' was designed to read like a television episode.  
In fact, we did a teleplay version complete with the plot A and plot B 
structure.  The following story is more typical of fan fiction work.  "FISHERS 
OF MEN" is basically a novella.  We would like to dedicate this novella to a 
very brave cross-section of humanity.  This cross-section is composed of people 
who face terminal illness.  We want the moments of this tale to give you the 
light you need to force your shadows to recede.   



_____________________


Fishers of Men



Written by 

M.C. Hart and Mike Horrom

Edited by Tracy Lynn Ford



(Karszak@aol.com)
_________________


	

	"What the hell does that mean?"  David demanded, staring hard at the top 
of his head.  How could he sit there and say something so stupid?  "John, look 
at me son.  Tell me what you're talking about,"  he pleaded.

	"I fell, Dad. I fell at Z'Ha'dum;"  he breathed, talking quickly.  "And I 
died."  He just wanted to get it out and be done with it.  Straightening 
quickly, he stretched, popping his neck, trying to get the tension out of his 
body. He grimaced suddenly, jumping as his neck popped loudly.  He could almost 
remember hitting bottom after that god- awful fall, the intense searing pain----
almost.  He must have broken every bone in his body; he had to have.  It seemed 
like he fell forever---he sucked in his breath quickly, squeezing his eyes 
closed as he ran his hand across them. His heart pounded in his chest, 
threatening to break free as his mind slid back to those horrifying moments.  He 
didn't want to remember that, not the pain--or the fear he felt as he plummeted 
downward, not knowing what lay beneath.  

	Delenn grabbed his upper arm tightly, forcing him to open his eyes, she 
was staring at him, her eyes filled with fear.  His eyes locked on hers, 
momentarily paralyzed by the fear he relived in his thoughts.  The tight 
pressure on his bicep helped bring him out of his recollection.  "Don't go back 
there--stay with us,"  she said harshly.  He barely moved his head in a nod, 
biting his bottom lip, not trusting his voice.  Delenn slid her other hand into 
his as she released the pressure slowly.  He gripped her fingers tightly as if 
she was his only lifeline.  She had been; she always would be.  If the powerful 
pressure on her fingers hurt, she never gave him an indication.  She held his 
eyes firmly with her intense stare, never breaking the connection until he 
finally relaxed his grip on her fingers.  

	David was shocked, staring at them.  He had died!  His breath caught in 
his throat, watching his son recoil from what was flashing through his mind.  He 
saw Delenn reach for him, physically drag him back to the here and now with her 
determination.  In that brief moment he saw a side of Delenn he never knew 
existed: domineering, stubborn and powerful. Even through the anguish he was 
suffering, the rational part of his mind realized he never wanted to make her 
angry with him. In that small petite package, she was a force to be reckoned 
with. 

	John wrapped both hands around her small one, squeezing her as he took a 
deep breath.  It wasn't as strong as before, but she could feel him shaking.  "I 
didn't mean to lose control---I'm all right now,"  he said softly. She searched 
his eyes quickly, they were haunted by visions that only he could see--; Images 
and feelings that he refused to share with her no matter how much she insisted.  
Demons that tormented him at nights, clawing and ripping at his sanity even as 
he fought to drive them away.  He would never bestow even a glimpse of those 
demons to her; she knew that he thought she couldn't handle it.  Seeing his 
reactions, she realized he was probably right.  He would be tormented for the 
rest of his life by those shadows.

	John gave her a small smile and glanced back to his father.  He had almost 
forgotten he was there; he had been completely wrapped up in those horrible 
memories. "Dad?"  The older man looked terrible.  His eyes were bloodshot, his 
face drawn in the realization that he was losing a child.  John had always seen 
his father as a strong-willed individual, someone who, despite the small frame, 
was a dynamo when it came to a commanding presence and common humor.  That 
wasn't the man sitting in front of him now; this person was overcome with grief, 
small and vulnerable.   "Are you all right?"  he whispered softly.

	David frowned, finding his voice as he shook his head.  "Shouldn't I be 
asking you that?"  he murmured quietly.  

	John smiled softly at the response.  "I'm ok.  I've had a few rough nights 
since this happened--but I'm managing.  It helps to have support,"  he said, 
gripping Delenn's hand as he looked at her.  

	Delenn forced herself to return his smile, for him.  She was afraid it 
came across weak, but John didn't noticed as he returned his attention to his 
father.  She felt nothing but despair.  Despair at the thought of losing him so 
soon, twenty years was but an instant to eternity.  They would fly by all too 
fast, then he would be gone and she would be alone.  Her heart ached, her soul 
screamed---to be without him would be worse than death.  She doubted she would 
survive it, when he passed beyond the veil she would follow.  She felt tears 
forming in her eyes as she blinked them back quickly.  She drew herself back to 
the conversation between father and son.  She was determined to be strong, to be 
here if John needed her. 

	"----you died?  Explain how your here," David was saying.  His voice was 
stronger; he was slowly pulling out of the shock that had gripped his body.  His 
tone was now full of puzzlement and inquiry.  He stared intently at John, his 
eyes searching as the diplomatic side of his personality took over.  It was 
easier this way, detach himself as much as possible from the actual situation 
and take it in small dosages.  Dosages he could handle.

	"Because the man in between was searching for me; it was Lorien.  He 
brought me back to life."  John replied, gently.       

	David frowned.  "Who is Lorien?"

	John sighed, releasing one hand from Delenn's to run it through his hair. 
How do I explain this one to Dad?  He resurrected me, by transferring part of 
his life energy into me, rebuilding and reconstructing my crushed body.  Was 
that why the gray hair had appeared?  He hadn't thought of that before. It made 
sense. And the drastic weight loss---  whatever Lorien had done, it hadn't 
started for what--a week?  I was dead for a week; my body was dead.  It must 
have started decaying--it had to have.  When he brought me back to life, it took 
time for everything to catch up. The gray hair had started to go away, getting 
less pronounced as time moved on.  The energy force was like a machine; it had 
to have a kick start.  What other small things had he ignored or simply taken 
for granted that could be traced back to his death and rebirth?  The muscle 
aches, his stiff joints in the morning, the pain that radiated through his 
fingers from time to time.  They could all be contributed to that instance when 
he fell.  How badly had he been crushed?  
Why did that pain still cause him discomfort periodically?  Would this life 
force ever stumble, leaving him in agony as his body betrayed him?  As these 
questions flashed through his mind, Delenn's squeeze and David's voice drew him 
back.
	
	"Son, who is Lorien?"  David repeated, seeing the distant look in his 
son's eyes.  

	John shook himself back to reality; he had to stop doing that.  "The 
first, First One."  

	"The first, first one, what?"  

	John looked confused as to how to handle that question, so Delenn stepped 
in to help.  "The First Ones are the first race of beings that lived in the 
galaxy.  Older than even we can imagine.  Much older.  Lorien was the first of 
even these, he considers the others--his children in a theoretical sense."

	"So how old is this guy?"

	John smiled.  "Really old."

	David looked at him, confused.  This just wasn't making much sense.  "So 
this really old guy named Lorien brought you back to life?" He couldn't believe 
he was sitting here calmly discussing his son's death. 

	John nodded.

	"How?"  he demanded.

	"By giving me a portion of his life force.  He described it as blowing on 
the embers of life."  

	"So you weren't dead?"  David pressed.

	"Yes, I was,"  John returned, nodding his head.

	David shook his head.  "You just said he blew on the embers of life.  To 
me that means that there was a spark of life left and he just intensified it.  
You weren't completely dead."
	
	John sighed. "Dad, I fell---I don't know how many miles. When I hit,"  he 
stopped himself as the visions started returning.  "I was dead,"  he said 
quietly.  Don't go there, John--don't you do it.

	"He was missing for roughly seven days,"  Delenn said softly, caressing 
John's back. 

	"Missing?  John, how did you get to this Z'Ha'dum?  Why did you go there 
to begin with?"  David asked, stretching his legs out slightly as he 
repositioned.  The boat was small, and sitting for so long without moving was 
starting to disagree with his old bones.  He tenderly rubbed his left knee as 
the pain eased, watching his son.

	"Because of Shadows," John replied in a low voice.

	David looked at him strangely, seeing the darkness that engulfed his eyes 
at the mention of the word.  Shadows?  That made even less sense than the rest 
of this conversation.   "Shadows?  As in the type that fall as the sun is going 
down?  That type of shadow?"

	"No,"  John breathed softly.  "Shadow creatures.  They forced me to go 
there; I didn't have much of a choice."  

	"I've never heard of these things."  

	"Most have not,"  Delenn returned.  "They too are a very old race, much as 
the Vorlons.  They are invisible the majority of the time and when they aren't--
-they are deadly."

	"Why did they have any interest in you?"  

	"Because I was the main force behind the organization of the Non-Allied 
Worlds.  I was disrupting their plans,"  John muttered, shaking his head.  "They 
wanted to either sway me to their side or get me out of the way."

	David leaned forward, a frown on his features. "You said they forced you 
to go to this Z'Ha'dum.  How?"  he inquired.  Some of John's answers were vague 
and evasive; he just wasn't comprehending the complete picture.  He knew the 
only way to fill in the gaps were with the correct questions.  Again his 
diplomacy paid off, for he knew his son wouldn't supply the answers without a 
direct question. 
	
	"By sending me what they hoped was the one thing that would persuade me to 
go,"  John said softly.  At the strange look his father was giving him, John 
took a deep breath and elaborated slightly.  "Anna came back."
	
	David's eyes almost popped out of his head as he gave a start at the 
words.  "What?!" he hissed between clinched teeth. "That's simply not possible; 
Anna died along with the Icuras."

	"It would have been easier if she had,"  John whispered.  

	"What the Icuras found on it's last expedition was Z'Ha'dum and the Shadow 
base,"  Delenn supplied when John refused to say more.  "The humans that would 
not serve were killed; the others---what came back to the station was not Anna, 
but what was left of her."  She glanced toward John, watching for any type of 
distressing reaction.  Thankfully he had apparently gotten control of himself 
and merely sat there, looking at the floor of the boat.
	
	"So you went to Z'Ha'dum with Anna?"
	
	John nodded.
	
	"And you fell?  How did you fall?"
	
	"Well, technically I jumped,"  John muttered, glancing back to his father.

	"You jumped?!  Why the hell did you jump?  You said you fell---miles."  
David's face was filled with confusion.
	
	"I had to--please just leave it at that,"  John whispered.  He watched his 
father look down at the floor of the boat, his face ashened and filled with 
grief over what he'd been told. Delenn darted a look filled with worry toward 
John.  He exhaled slowly, returning the look as he waited for his father to 
speak.  This was the first time that he truly thought his father looked his age-
-his face drawn and tight, his eyes misty and dark.  John returned his gaze to 
the older man, seeing him take a shuddering breath.
He leaned forward, posing his elbows on his thighs.  "Dad, are you all right?"  

	"I--I don't know what to say."  He looked up at his son.  "This is a 
parent's worst nightmare: to lose a child,"   he whispered.  "It doesn't matter 
if you're a man or not; I'm losing my son."
	
	John swallowed hard, reaching over to grip Delenn's hand tightly.  He 
needed that support right now.  She returned the pressure he applied as he 
spoke. "Dad, if I had not made the decision to go to Z'Ha'dum more parents might 
have lost their children.  A choice was presented to me--a choice that only I 
alone could make, a choice divided three ways,"  he whispered.
	
	Again confusion filled the older man's features as his eyebrow raised in 
askance.  He glanced from his son to Delenn.  "I'm not sure I'm following you, 
son."
	
	John sat silently as several seconds ticked off, staring at the water.  It 
lapped softly against the side of the boat, almost in a lulling rhythm.  His 
thoughts were a million miles away as he forced them back to the present and off 
that God forsaken balcony.  "Well Anna---or the thing that had been Anna--
presented me with one destiny," he said glancing at his father again, "a destiny 
as a shadow thrall once I had been exposed to one of their machines."  He took a 
breath.  "The second choice was to continuing firing my PPG at the endless army 
of shadow creatures. The third was to listen to the voice in my head,"  he 
finished as if that answered everything.

	"The voice in your head?"  David said with puzzlement.
	
	John smiled softly.  "I guess I should explain that one."  He glanced back 
at Delenn as she smiled softly, then refocused on his father.  "The voice in my 
head was that of a Vorlon."

	David raised his other eyebrow at the statement; a strange look flashed 
across his face.  "A Vorlon?"  he whispered, softly.
	
	John nodded as Delenn spoke.  "Yes, the essence speaking to John was that 
of Ambassador--"
	
	"Kosh, right?"  David finished, smiling.

	It was their turn to be surprised.  John sat up, staring at his father.  
"How did you know?"  he asked sharply.
	
	David's grin widened.  "How did you know Kosh, son?"

	John frowned as he spoke. This was bizarre as hell. As far as he knew, his 
father had never even seen a Vorlon. How did he know Kosh was in his head?  "He 
was assigned as Ambassador to B5 and I kinda took it upon myself to learn all I 
could about him.  He more or less took me under his wing, said he was giving me 
lessons so I would learn more about myself,"  he explained.  "I didn't know it 
at the time, but he had deposited a part of his essence inside me--that was what 
I heard."
	
	David nodded, an absent-minded look crossing his features.  

	"Now explain to me how you knew it was Kosh,"  John said, his voice filled 
with curiosity.  "Or any other Vorlon for that matter."

	David smiled softly, as his mind slid back all those many years ago. "I 
met the Ambassador once back before you were born---a little before I met your 
mother.  I was an aide to the Earth Ambassador at the time.  Approximately forty 
five years ago a major archeological find had been made on Mars---"  

	John and Delenn traded looks filled with trepidation at what might have 
been discovered.  They were expecting David to say that an earlier find of a 
Shadow vessel had been made, one even more unofficial than the resent one 
unleashed.  Without uttering a word, the look passed between them as David 
continued. 

	"A team of miners had stumbled on what later would be identified as a 
Vorlon probe.  It must have detected the humans surrounding it and sent a signal 
to the Vorlon home world because Earth was soon contacted by the Vorlons---"

	John held up his hand, stopping his father.  He was frowning as the older 
man looked at him.  "Dad, are you saying Earth made contact with the Vorlon 
covertly?"  This was not how he remembered the first meetings of the Vorlon 
race. He couldn't imagine his own father as being one of the first humans to 
ever encounter the Vorlon and forty five years ago at that.

	David nodded. "Basically, yes.  This contact was declared unofficial by 
all involved.  That's why I was not able to mention anything about this before.  
You see, IXP found that probe, and the Vorlon quickly sent out an Ambassador to 
retrieve it." He took a deep breath.

	"The Vorlon transport came out of the jump point and took a holding 
position with the Mars space station,"  he whispered, talking softly as his mind 
played back the events in his head.  "Before the alien ambassador made his 
appearance, the Earth ambassador, her name was Helena Fitzsimmons, turned to me 
and requested my quiet observation.  She was an ace when it came to handling 
first contacts." He smiled softly.  "About that time Kosh made his grand 
entrance.  Interestingly enough, looking back it was rather a mundane event.  
But at the time my youthful enthusiasm transformed my initial reaction to Kosh 
to one of a nearly stifled swoon." He laughed lightly.  "That suit of his really 
threw me off.  It struck me as looking like a butterfly's pupa stage."  

	John smiled as he too remembered his first reaction at seeing the enormous 
encounter suit that the Vorlon wore.  That suit was enough to intimidate anyone, 
to hear his father describe it as a butterfly's pupa stage was humorous.  That 
image had never crossed his mind.  "So did you get to talk with him?  I mean, I 
know Vorlons are very selective about what they verbalize---"
	
	David nodded.  "Tell me about it.  I got to spend more time with Kosh than 
I ever thought I would.  It's a pity that Helena never really got to interact 
with him."
	
	Delenn frowned.  "I don't understand,"  she said softly.
	
	David sighed.  "When we took the shuttle down to Mars, we were attacked.  
She died almost instantly--I think.  I've always hoped she died instantly; her 
body was so badly burned---"  his voice trailed off slightly as John and Delenn 
both frowned, listening intently.  David squeezed his eyes shut, his mind 
wandering back to that encounter with the Vorlon, back to the day when he became 
the Ambassador for Earth under rather unusual circumstances.  

-  -  -  -  -

	At first, all David knew was pain--intense, searing pain radiating through 
his entire body.  He wasn't completely conscience. The impact, or whatever the 
hell had happened, had jarred not only the shuttle, but had rattled his brain as 
well.  He could hear something hissing, a strange and unusual sound to regard in 
a shuttle.  It reminded him of the snake he'd cornered back home in the barn. It 
had hissed angrily at him when he prodded it with a stick, teasingly.  Shuttles 
weren't supposed to hiss; that wasn't normal.  He didn't know for sure why. 
Something had to be wrong for him to be hearing that hiss.  His mind refused to 
focus on the thought for very long.  He tried to force his eyes open, but they 
refused to obey his command. His neck ached; he felt like someone had taken him 
around the throat and literally tried to rip his neck off.  He couldn't swallow, 
and his chest throbbed painfully with each breath he attempted to draw.  What's 
wrong with me, am I having a heart attack? 

	Suddenly his mind was filled with a vision that seemed so real it made him 
gasp in horror. He saw himself sitting in the shuttle compartment, just as he 
was now, but in the vision he was gasping painfully for air.  His face contorted 
in agony.  His hand clawed at his throat, ripping against skin as he tried to 
force the much needed air into his laboring lungs.  His eyes bulged outward, 
wet, sticky, pulling themselves from their sockets as he forced the last of the 
air from his body into a piercing scream---

	
	His eyes flew open, locking on the image of the Vorlon Ambassador staring 
down at him, the iris fluctuating in and out quickly, white light emanating from 
it.  His heart raced as he drew a shuddering breath; then it hit him, he could 
hardly breathe!  His fingers fought with the straps that held him, numbly 
sliding over the connections.  His mind was a whirlwind: the air is escaping 
from the shuttle!  If I don't move and quickly I'm dead!  He fumbled again with 
the straps, and after agonizing hesitation, they finally broke free and he 
sprang upward out of the harness.  

	His body screamed in protest as he forced it to move much quicker than he 
should have in his current state. Stumbling and falling amid the scattered 
debris, he clambered toward the only destination to his salvation, the storage 
lockers and the E-suits inside.  He took little notice of his surroundings as he 
all but fell into the row of lockers, his breath burning in his lungs.  He had 
heard how agonizing it was to die of asphyxiation, the horror stories 
surrounding it. He had no desire to experience it first hand.  His mind suddenly 
turned morbid on him as he seized the closest E-suit, seeing a piece of metal 
protruding from the arm sleeve.  What if they were all damaged--punctured?  
Disgusted and frightened, he threw it to the floor, snatching another.  Please 
let me find one intact, please.  He pleaded in his mind as he fumbled the suit 
in his hands, eyeing it quickly.  He didn't want to waste time putting a suit on 
only to find that it had been compromised in some way.  That type of 
miscalculation would be his death.  
	
	Upon swift inspection, the suit appeared whole and he quickly plunged 
himself inside, his head spinning with lack of oxygen, his vision starting to 
blur around the edges.  He forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand.  
Make the connections good, close the fastenings--mentally playing over the 
training session in his mind as quickly as he could.  Slamming the helmet over 
his head, he locked it down, then felt for the switches, activating them without 
hesitation.  He felt the coolness assault his face as he closed his eyes, 
drinking in the wonderful, sweet-smelling air.  His lungs labored for a moment 
more, his throat burning, then his oxygen-starved body relaxed as the much- 
needed air began flowing soothingly through his system.  His mind cleared almost 
instantly.

	It was in that instant that he abruptly realized that he wasn't the only 
person on the shuttle that would die from lack of air.  Where was Fitzsimmons?!  
His eyes shot open as he realized his error; he had been selfish!  As he focused 
on his surroundings, his mind took in the situation quickly.  The shuttle had 
been badly damaged. Smoke billowed throughout the cabin, obscuring his view as 
he stumbled in the direction he had last known the Ambassador to be.  Debris 
clogged the walkway, piled in heaps along the walls and chairs as he moved as 
quickly as he could over the obstacles. He grunted, sliding a large piece of 
bulkhead out of his path, his labored breathing echoing loudly in his ears.  
Where was she?  oh God, look at this place.  

	The rear of the shuttle was all but destroyed, the walls blackened from 
what looked like a flash fire that ripped from the engines.  That had been the 
heat he had felt; he was lucky to be alive!  He swallowed hard as his eyes 
scanned the area, then stopped suddenly as he found his objective.  Beneath what 
was left of the bulkhead, that had once separated the engines from the cabin, 
lay the body of the Ambassador.  His eyes stung and his stomach rolled as he 
moved toward her, threatening to spill its contents into his E-suit.  He 
swallowed again, forcing the bile back down, fighting from throwing up, he 
couldn't do that in the suit--he had to get control of his body!  What he could 
see of her was burnt, blackened from the fire, her skin all but melted off her 
structure.  The stench had to be unbearable, he gagged, turning his head away 
quickly as his gloved hand pressed against the face plate of his helmet. 
Thankfully, he could smell nothing through the suit and that was the only thing 
that saved him from throwing up.  Squeezing his eyes shut he tried to push the 
terrifying image out of his mind.  He was shaking, gasping from breath, his 
heart beating far too quickly as he gripped the metal wall, all but leaning his 
body weight against it for support.  "Damn---damn---damn---"  he breathed, 
shaking his head.  This couldn't be happening!   He was just an aide, he had no 
idea what to do now that the Ambassador was dead.  It was just him and the 
Vorlon stuck---God only knew where they were.  

	Then he instantly remembered the pilot. He started to move back toward the 
front, when he stopped.  Glancing back slowly in the direction of the 
Ambassador, he whispered.  "I'm sorry, ma'am---I'm truly sorry."  He quickly 
vacated himself from the area.  

	To his surprise, the Vorlon stood just as he had left him, almost 
hovering, it appeared, near the wall.  He moved past him silently, heading for 
the pilot.  He too was dead, his face looked like it had been beat repeatedly 
against the console.  There was more blood than David cared to see, and he 
quickly backed away, turning to the Vorlon.  He stared at the huge alien, simply 
watching him, and slowed his breathing.  "Are you all right---um--Ambassador 
Kosh--umm, sir?"  he asked softly.  He knew nothing about Vorlons. Was this 
normal? 

	Kosh tilted the head of the encounter suit slowly to the right, and to 
David's amazement, he heard the wind chime noise again.  How was that possible?  
The E-suit should block all sound from the outside, he shouldn't be able to hear 
anything.  Then why did you even talk to him? He questioned himself 
sarcastically.  Because I'm stupid.  He shook his head and moved to the small 
instrument panel along the wall and adjusted the dials.  He didn't like what he 
saw.  Whatever had happened had blown them completely off course.  "Looks like 
whatever hit us put us pretty far off the beaten path," he muttered to himself.  
Then he glanced back at the Vorlon.  Had he actually responded to his question a 
minute ago?  Could he hear David even though he was in the suit?  It was 
possible, I guess.  Who knows what the Vorlons are capable of.  This knowledge 
prompted his next actions.  "Wouldn't happen to know how much time elapsed 
between the impact and my waking?"  he asked, curiously. 

	Again he heard the chime noises and then a voice.  It sounded as if it 
actually echoed through his mind.  "Time is a storm in which we are all lost."  

	David frowned, confusion clearly written in his features as he peered at 
the Vorlon.  What the hell was that suppose to mean?  "Er--uh, what I'm saying 
is that if that was a missile--those who fired it may come knocking," he tried 
to explain in more detail.  Then he turned back to the instruments, looking for 
the external sensors and their condition.  

	"One always has time enough, if only one applies it well,"  Kosh replied 
in his musical Vorlon way.

	David nodded absently, scanning the instruments.  "Yeah, I suppose that 
would be some good advice," he muttered.  Then he shook his head, grunting 
slightly.  "The sensors are gone."  He glanced at the Vorlon, then moved past 
him again toward the storage lockers.  Only one thing left to do now.  If they 
waited here for rescue, odds are the people that shot them down would get here 
first and they'd be toast.  He opened the small compartment carefully and 
glanced inside.  Nodding his satisfaction at what he discovered, he pulled out a 
PPG and began checking its charge.  They had to get away from the shuttle, even 
if that meant trudging across the Mars landscape.  There wasn't any choice in 
the matter.  Death by staying, or possible death on the plains--no, not much 
choice.  David stared at the PPG, shaking his head in disgust.  "I'm a 
diplomatic aide, not a ground pounder, damnmit," he muttered, shoving the PPG 
into the small compartment on his suit.

	Kosh drew his attention as he spoke, "a time for peace.  A time for war.  
To everything a time to turn."

	David found himself chuckling softly as he smiled at the Vorlon. "You know 
about twentieth century Earth music?"  he asked, amazed.  This was as bizarre as 
hell.  Kosh simply turned his back to David and faced the airlock doors.  David 
glanced toward them, nodding his head incredulously.  "I get the point," he 
muttered, moving toward the doors. 

	"Good."

	He stopped quickly, staring at the Vorlon. That had sounded very sarcastic 
to him.  He was surprised that the Vorlon was capable of sarcasm.  Apparently, 
they knew a great deal more about humans than the humans knew about them.  David 
momentarily wondered how much this Kosh actually was hiding.  "Uh--you probably 
should stand--er--uh--float back Ambassador.  These explosive bolts can be 
tricky I hear."  He motioned Kosh backward with a wave of his hand.  The Vorlon 
moved without comment.

	David eyed the arming mechanism closely, looking for the lever that 
activated it.  I hope this doesn't blow the shuttle sky high, he thought as his 
eyes fell on the switch.  With as much leakage and smoke inside, there could 
easily be a gas leak--he stopped his thoughts immediately.  Keep thinking like 
that and you're never going to make it out of this alive, Sheridan.  You have to 
take chances to make opportunities.  He reached out, gripping the lever in his 
gloved hand.  "Here goes nothing---I hope."

	Depressing the switch, he was rewarded with a shattering explosive that 
rocked him momentarily to his very core.  With a puff of smoke and a groan of 
metal, the door shuddered, then---as if in slow motion---fell outward, bathing 
him in the brightness of the Mars day.  A red dusty haze enveloped them as the 
door slammed down against the sandy ground, the dust cloud momentarily obscuring 
the surrounding landscape.  As it cleared, David could see the dry, sand dune-
looking scenery surrounding them on all sides.  Great, they were in the middle 
of nowhere.  He sighed, shaking his head as Kosh moved silently pass him, out 
the door.  He made a small gesture with his hand, motioning him on as he 
muttered, "After you--"

	He felt his boots crunch against the Martian soil as he stepped off the 
make shift ramp the door produced.  So, which way do we go?  Like I have the 
slightest idea.  We could stumble along for years out in this wasteland and 
never see another person.  Unfortunately, I don't have the air supply for that, 
he thought sickly, realizing the outcome of this little adventure was turning 
very bleak. Looking around again, he glanced at the Vorlon.  "I suggest we get. 
If our attackers are close, we want to be elsewhere."  Kosh watched him 
silently, then turned and moved off northward as David watched.  "Ok, we go 
north--works for me,"  he muttered, shaking his head.  "Boy, some Ambassador 
I'll be. I probably offended the fella."  He moved off quickly, jogging to catch 
up to the Vorlon.

-  -  -  -  -

	David leaned back, taking a breath as John and Delenn listened, engrossed 
in the tale he was sharing.  He stretched slightly as he continued.  "So there 
we were, a human and a Vorlon, hiking the hills of red dust.  You might say we 
were the proverbial boy and his alien.  I continued to try and engage Kosh in 
conversation."  He grinned, shaking his head.  "About--oh--probably two and half 
hours into our trek, the one sided conversation had degenerated into me telling 
my life story.  Eventually, I ran out of biography and shut up. Good thing, too.  
If I hadn't, I would have used up my whole reserve of air.  As it was, I was 
using a slow leaker of a tank."  He frowned slightly as Delenn's eyes widened.  
"By the middle of the third hour, delirium was becoming a real problem.  Of 
course, our peaceful walkabout didn't last.  Oh, no.  The Mars faction that had 
knocked us out of the sky was looking for us.  They found us----"

-  -  -  -  -

     Dusk was settling quickly around them, bathing the entire landscape in a 
dark, ominous air.  David was exhausted; his entire body ached from the strain 
he'd put on it over the past hours, trekking mindlessly behind the Vorlon.  
Doesn't that thing ever rest, he thought weakly as he staggered onward.  They 
had encountered mountainous rocks a while back and were slowly winding their way 
through the darkening crevasses.  It was like the Vorlon was following a beacon; 
he never wavered from his route.  

	"Stop--wait--"  David said finally, unable to move any farther.  His 
breath was hot against the face plate, his legs almost the consistency of jelly, 
as he leaned  against a large boulder.  His head was foggy, his thoughts fuzzy 
and disjointed.  Air deprivation, he thought numbly.  After all this, I still 
get to discover how it feels to asphyxiate.  "We gotta stop--just for a few 
minutes--"  he gasped softly.

	Kosh halted instantly, turning back toward the exhausted human.  David 
watched his iris slowly enlarge, then shrink, and waited for the Vorlon to 
speak.  When nothing was forthcoming, he lowered his head and concentrated on 
breathing slowly, resting his tired body.  
He knew his time was limited, but if he didn't rest, it wouldn't matter.  He 
couldn't go another step forward without falling on his face. 

	After a few moments, David looked up, feeling a little better.  He had a 
mild ringing in his ears; it was vaguely heard over the roaring of his own 
heartbeat thumping loudly in his head.  He realized immediately that Kosh was 
focused on something in the distance, something above them on the rock facing.  
He rose, a bit unsteady, and stepped next to the Vorlon, squinting his eyes at 
the darkness, trying to see whatever had drawn its attention.  A settlement?  
Surely not up there?  Though his heart jumped at the prospect of possible 
salvation, his mind knew the truth. It just wasn't feasible.   

	He was startled when the Vorlon broke the unnerving silence.  "The night 
has a thousand eyes,"  it said amid the musical chimes.  

	David jumped slightly.  "What--er--what did you---"

	But the Vorlon cut him off, almost shouting toward him. "We are fall 
down!"  David had never heard a Vorlon shout, but he was sure this was what it 
sounded like as the sounds vibrated in his head.

	"Huh?"  he looked in askance at the Vorlon.  Suddenly, an impact filled 
with agony ripped through David's leg, nearly crippling him in pain.  "Ahhhh 
God!"  he screamed, falling to the ground as his hand unconsciencly grabbed at 
the pain.  To his horror, he felt air hissing dangerously out of the opening 
that had been ripped in his suit leg.  His entire limb was engulfed in pain, his 
hand sticky with blood as he looked up, biting the inside of his mouth to keep 
from crying out again.  
	
	Then he saw them.  Shadows moving down the embankment, human silhouettes 
in the darkening sky.  They weren't wearing E-suits but something else--
something David had never seen before.  Fear racked his brain as he realized 
that these were the people that had shot them down; this was the enemy!  They 
moved much quicker than would have been possible in a bulky  E-suit, sliding 
along the cracks and rocks as if they belonged there.  Another shot, slightly 
off to his left, brought him out of his daze as he shielded his eyes momentarily 
from the glare of the weapon.  He struggled up, more crawling than anything else 
as he dove for cover behind the rock that once had supported him. 

	"Ambassador!"  he shouted, his voice ringing loudly in the small helmet.  
His leg throbbed; his breath was harsh as his heart lodged in his throat.  There 
were so many of them!  He'd seen at least a dozen moving shadows. How many more 
where out there that he hadn't spotted.  Where the hell was that Vorlon?!  He 
was going to get himself killed!  He didn't stand a chance in hell against those 
people and their weapons!  

	He winched as his helmet suddenly erupted in static, then a voice. "Kill 
the Earther and the monster!"  They knew his frequency?  Was that meant for him 
to hear or simply accidental?  Either way, the voice and the tone sent chills 
down his spine.  The accent was that of an Earth man, or more likely a Mars 
colonist from the contents of the statement.  He lifted his head cautiously over 
the boulder and had to duck instantly as another blast all but separated him 
from the shoulders up.  "Damn!" he cursed, dropping his eyes quickly to the 
damage his suit leg had sustained.  If he didn't stop that escaping air, he 
wouldn't be around long enough to worry about what they were going to do to him.

	Fumbling with his suit, he pulled out the emergency repair kit and hastily 
unfastened the nozzle of the small tube.  Breathing heavily and trying to ignore 
the chaos around him, he concentrated on simply closing the tear.  Applying the 
foamy material to the rip, he spread it along the opening, working it in as 
quick as possible with his gloved fingers.  He felt it begin to harden almost 
instantly.  With one last look of satisfaction and the knowledge that he'd 
bought himself a few more minutes of life, he pitched the container to the side 
and drew out his PPG.

	Gripping the weapon tightly, he took a deep breath, then rose slightly 
from his safe haven behind the rock.  What he saw, froze him in that position.  
What he thought was a defenseless Vorlon had erected what appeared to be a huge 
energy field around his entire body. It radiated what looked like lightening as 
the energy bolts bounced off the field without injury to the being inside.  
David's eyes were wide; he'd never seen anything like it before.  The others---
the enemy had apparently forgotten about him as they concentrated their fire 
power against the lone Vorlon.  He could make out perhaps two dozen figures 
slowly converging in a small circle, weapons afire, plummeting the Vorlon with 
everything they had.  That energy field couldn't hold out forever and when it 
went, so would the life of the Vorlon Ambassador.  

	Then it happened.  He knew he would never forget what he saw then for the 
rest of his life.  He watched as the eyepiece iris widened dramatically, and a 
white light began glowing and growing from the iris.  He shielded his eyes 
slightly as the intensity brightened to painful clarity.  Suddenly, arching 
bolts shot from the Vorlon and engulfed all standing around him, bathing their 
bodies as if they had been struck by lightening.  They withered, their bodies 
like puppets on a madman's string, screaming the most God awful sounds David had 
ever heard.  His blood ran cold as he watched them one by one fall silent to the 
ground.   He would have given any amount of money to not hear those terrible 
blood-curdling sounds. 

	Then it was over just as quickly as it had started.  Nothing moved in the 
small area; no sound permeated his helmet, complete and utter silence.  Smoke 
rolled gently off the collapsed bodies, as if they were steaks cooking on an 
open grill in the summertime.  His eyes darted from one to another, but it was 
all the same.  They were dead.  He drew a deep breath, not realizing he'd been 
holding it while the drama unfolded before him.  His hand was shaking as he 
looked down at the useless PPG in his palm.  He hadn't even fired a shot; it was 
still fully charged. He staggered forward, dazed at the mayhem around him.  He 
saw the Vorlon turn toward him, his head piece cocking slightly as if he was 
inspecting David.  He simply stared at the alien, too stunned to speak.

	Kosh moved closer, stopping within a few feet of the injured and 
bewildered human.  "A time for war,"  it said quietly.
	
	David nodded slowly, his eyes returning to the bodies as he suddenly felt 
overwhelmed and insignificant. He hadn't done anything to help the Vorlon in the 
fight, not that he had to, but that wasn't the point.  His head buzzed with 
dizziness.  Shock or air loss, he thought softly, could be both.  After a 
moment, he looked back to the waiting Vorlon.  "Yeah, war--I failed in that 
department--I left you and ran from the fight---" He hung his head in defeat, 
unable to look at Kosh.  "I guess I'm too much of a peacenik,"  he muttered, 
then fell forward, barely catching himself in time as he crashed to his knees.  
I'm losin it!  he thought quickly.  He could feel the darkness creeping in on 
his mind.  No matter how much he fought, he knew it was a loosing battle.  Can't 
live without air.  His was almost gone.   

	The musical chimes invaded his mind again as he looked toward the 
Ambassador, his breath short, labored.  I'm dead.  "A time for peace."   David 
frowned as the Vorlon slowly began to lift its headpiece off the encounter suit, 
then he was blinded by the intense white light that flooded the landscape around 
him.  That was the last thing he saw as he blacked out, falling face first into 
the dry Martian soil.

-  -  -  -  -

	John and Delenn sat mesmerized, staring at David as he finished the story.  
Neither had the ability or the want to interrupt him till it was completed.  
"Either the lack of oxygen or the light from the Vorlon must have put me into a 
sleep," David said with speculation.  "All I can really remember was a kind of 
singing."  John's eyes widened suddenly as David caught them, then Delenn's as 
well.  

	"Well, when I woke the sight before me nearly took my breath away again. 
An angel--that's the only way I can describe it--only female--seemed to be 
hovering before me.  Then my senses cleared and the female angel I thought I had 
seen became the most beautiful of women."  He grinned, looking toward Delenn.  
"Excluding, of course, present company.  She was the medical technician who I 
suspected I was destined to meet."   

	He sat back, propping his leg on the side of the boat, simply staring at 
them.  John blinked several times, as if searching for his voice before he 
spoke.  "My God---that's incredible,"  he whispered.

	David smiled, holding out his hands.  "It's the truth, son.  Everything 
I've just told you--all the truth."  

	John shook his head slowly. All that he had just heard overwhelmed him.  
To think that his father had known Kosh, had been saved by Kosh--almost in the 
same way Kosh had saved him.  It was unbelievable.  Was there a connection in 
these encounters, in the way Kosh had seemed to take to him over all others on 
the station, except perhaps Delenn?  Was it more than just coincidence?  He 
glanced quickly at Delenn and saw the same questions in her eyes.  They would 
never know the truth.  Kosh was dead and the Vorlons--the Vorlons were gone.  
All they would ever have was speculation.  John would have given anything to 
have known this before--while Kosh was still alive.  He could have questioned 
the Vorlon.

	David's voice brought him back to the present.  "What are you thinking, 
son?"

	John smiled suddenly, shaking his head.  "It's unbelievable.  I wish I'd 
have known this sooner.  I could have--"
	
	"No,"  Delenn said softly, reading his thoughts.  "He would have never 
admitted to this."  

	John jerked his head toward her.  "But the possibilities--"
	
	"Are just that--possibilities.  We will never know if there was any 
connection,"  she said softly, taking his hand in hers.  "What secret agendas 
Kosh had died with him; leave it at that."   

	John stared at her a few moments, seeing the truth in her words. Why drive 
yourself crazy over something you will never know?  He could see that statement 
in her eyes as surely as if she'd spoken it out loud.  "You're right,"  he 
whispered, covering her hand and giving it a small squeeze.  "It's over."

	Had John not been looking in her direction, he wouldn't have seen the pole 
tip suddenly and all but fall over the side of the boat.  Reaching out quickly, 
he snagged the end of the rod with his hand, leaning the boat drastically as he 
shifted the weight, lunging for it.  Delenn gave a small yelp as the boat tilted 
dangerously, grabbing Sheridan by the shirt, hanging on for dear life.
	
	"Grab it!" David said almost simultaneously to his son's movements as he 
bolted forward. Again the boat rocked, threatening to pitch Delenn over, or so 
she thought as she stared wide eyed at the two apparent lunatics in the boat 
with her.  

	John was all but laying across her, his arm submerged to the elbow in the 
water as he smiled triumphantly toward his dad.  "I got it!" Delenn held on 
tighter as he moved upward, the boat rocking back and forth mendaciously.  No 
one seemed to notice this but her as Sheridan pulled his dripping arm from the 
water, the rod firmly in his grasp.

	"Reel it in!"  David said, grinning from ear to ear.  "It must be huge the 
way it took that bait!  God, I haven't seen a strike like that in years!"  
	
	John jerked the rod upward, setting the hook as he repositioned himself 
around Delenn.  "Here, take this," he said, offering her the rod.  She stared at 
the proffered rod, slightly shocked.  Take it?  Her eyes must have held the same 
question as John grinned suddenly.  "Reel it in.  Come on, let's not loose it." 

	"I don't know what to do,"  she said quickly, watching the rod sway and 
jerk in his hand.  If that was a fish, it was fighting hard to get away.  

	"Turn around and straddle the seat," he said quickly, reeling slightly as 
the line came toward them.  She did as he instructed, feeling him move into the 
same position behind her, the boat rocking again.  

	"Don't tip us over!"  

	"I won't, calm down."  She could hear the laughter in his voice as he 
wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding the rod in front of her. "Now 
take the rod, just like I'm holding it."
	
	"What if I loose it?"  she questioned uncertainly as she took the rod 
slowly into her hands.  Again the jerk came and had John not been holding onto 
her hands, she might have lost the fish, rod and all.  She gripped it tighter, 
determined not to let that happen again. 

	"You're not going to lose it. I'm right here and we're going to catch this 
sucker together."  He grinned as he saw her nod.  "Now reel in, like I showed 
you earlier."  He helped her position her hands to hold the rod and reel at the 
same time.  She did this, the rod tipping toward the water.
	
	"Pull it up Delenn, pull!"  David insisted.

	"Pull it toward us," John instructed as she glanced at David.  "Don't look 
at him; watch the rod. If the fish gets under the boat, it might break the 
line."  She pulled upward, leaning back into Sheridan as he helped her.  "That's 
it, the object of the whole thing is to keep the line tight so the fish won't 
break it."
	
	"John, stop talking and bring that monster in,"  David insisted, sharply.  
He was out of his seat, almost on theirs staring over their shoulder into the 
water, net in hand.

	"Shut up,"  John muttered toward his father.  "I want her to understand 
what's going on and to do it right."  David harrumphed but didn't say anything 
else.  He wanted that fish; he wanted it badly.

	"It's heavy."  Delenn groaned, pulling again at John's insistence.
	
	John laughed near her ear.  "That's because its huge.  Reel."

	Again the fish jerked at the rod, harder this time.  They pulled sharply, 
drawing the rod almost to her shoulder.  "There it is!"  David shouted, pointing 
at the eruption of water about ten feet out from the boat. Then it was gone 
again, and Delenn hadn't seen anything but the big brown tail splash.  

	"We've got it off the bottom.  That's the main thing,"  John said softly 
into her ear.  "Now let's get it into the boat."  Again she nodded, not sure how 
they were going to do that with as much as the thing was fighting them.  She 
felt exhilarated.  She wasn't sure if it was because she was actually doing this 
or the fact that David was literally ready to jump into the water after the fish 
himself.  He knelt next to the side, causing the boat to list almost into the 
water from all their weight.  Had John not been leaning back as far as she felt 
him lean, she was sure she would be learning more about this swimming at any 
moment.  The small boat was all but on its side, the older man staring at the 
water as the fish broke the surface again.
	
	"Dad lean back."  John's voice held an edge of tension that Delenn knew 
all too well.  The boat was tipping.  David seemed oblivious; his eyes were on 
the fish and nothing more.  John groaned, throwing all his weight back against 
the boat, as he let go of the rod without warning.  Delenn momentarily panicked 
as she alone held the rod.  She felt John shift behind her, and the boat righted 
itself slightly. Then she saw him out of the corner of her eye reach out and all 
but pull his father away from the side.  "You're tipping the damn boat!"  he 
said sternly.  "We almost went into the drink!  I don't know about you, but I 
have no desire to spend the night with a pissed off Minbari on my hands.  Sit 
down."  

	"John, what do I do?"  she questioned quickly, trying to hold the rod 
upward but not being successful.  The tip was all the way under the water, and 
the rest threatened to follow.  She hadn't realized how hard the fish was 
actually pulling and jerking her until John had let go. She was doing well not 
to let it pull her into the river.  She was beginning to see how this was 
exciting to them.  

	"I'm coming; hold on," he said from behind her. She felt him slide against 
her again.  Then his hands were around the rod, helping pull it back up. 

	"I am holding on,"  she muttered and felt him laugh softly against her 
back.  

	"You're doing great."

	"Do these fish ever give up?"  she commented as they worked the fighting 
beast back to the surface once more.  

	"Only after we tire them down; keep pulling."

	"What if we get tired first?" she questioned, feeling her arms beginning 
to ache slightly from the constant pressure of the rod.

	He laughed again.  "That won't happen.  A good fisherman never gives up a 
fish out of exhaustion.  And we are good fishermen."

	She nodded.  "Of course we are."

	It seemed like it took an eternity for the fish to finally give in and 
allow them to pull it toward the boat.  Delenn couldn't believe the size of the 
creature as David bent down, scooping it into the net.  His eyes were wide. He 
groaned, pulling it over the side.  "My God look at the size of this!"  David 
breathed, smiling broadly.

	John laughed, giving Delenn a small hug as he took the rod from her hands 
and shifted back around in the seat.  "Look at that fish, Delenn.  You did catch 
a monster."  He shook his head in amazement and helped his father untangle the 
fins from the net.  

	Delenn was shocked.  She had never seen anything like it before.  She had 
caught that?  It was inconceivable. "How big is it?"  she asked, her curiosity 
getting the better of her.  David pried the hook out of its mouth, then held it 
up with his fingers through its gills, weighing it in his hands.  "I'd say at 
least thirty pounds!"  

	John grinned at her.  "I've never caught a catfish that big. 
Congratulations."  

	"Thirty pounds is big?"  she asked, eyes wide.

	"Thirty pounds is huge," John returned.

	"Then I am pleased,"  she said with a smile.   John and David started 
laughing as David slid the fish into the live well.  

	"I should hope so,"  David said reaching for the other rods.  "That's the 
biggest fish I've seen in this river in ages."  John nodded, working on Delenn's 
line.  "Let's get the rest of these poles out and see what happens."

-  -  -  -  -
	    
	The morning turned out to be more enjoyable than John imagined possible. 
With the knowledge that he had done what he came to do, he was able to sit back 
and simply enjoy himself.  They caught several fish over the next few hours, 
though none compared to the first.  He was content to sit and watch Delenn fight 
and work her fish into the boat, helping when necessary.  Regardless of which 
pole caught the fish, he immediately handed it to her, letting her have the 
pleasure of bringing it in.  She amazingly picked up the technique after only 
two or three times.    	
	
	By the time they headed back, several fish swam in the live well, more 
than enough for supper.  Delenn was very pleased with herself and her new 
talent.  She watched, fascinated, as David transferred them into a big bucket, 
grunting as he sat them on the ground.  "What are we to do with them now?"  she 
asked as they slid the boat back onto the trailer with a winch.  
	
	"Well, we're going to eat them for supper."  David said with a grin.  John 
shook his head slightly, not sure he wanted to participate in the discussion 
that was about to follow.  He knew Delenn well, and as expected, the words he 
dreaded slid out of her mouth.

	"But what do we do now?  How do we prepare them for eating?"  

	John groaned; there it was.  He held out his hand quickly, stopping his 
father's reply.  "Don't," he whispered, shaking his head as David looked at him. 
"Delenn--just let me take care of that, all right?"   She looked at him with a 
puzzled expression.  I will not go into detail with her; I refuse, he thought 
quickly.  "Some thing's are better left unknown."

	"What is that supposed to mean?"  she asked, placing her hands on her 
hips.  

	"It means I'm not going to tell you,"  he replied evenly as he diverted 
his attention back to the boat.  She's giving me that look again; I can feel it, 
he thought, wrapping the rope tightly around the guide bars.  Don't look at her, 
Sheridan, you know better--don't do it.  Silence rang through the small clearing 
as John finally looked up and into the eyes of his fiancee. She hadn't moved, 
nor had the look changed.  John groaned.  He'd known better; now he had to face 
the music.  "What?"  he asked defeated.  

	"Why are you being so evasive?" she demanded. "What is it that you're not 
telling me?"

	"Nothing,"  he said, shaking his head.  "And I'm not being evasive."  He 
walked around, grabbing the edge of the boat, shaking it slightly to make sure 
it was firmly on the float.  Would she let it go at that?  Of course not, you 
know better than that, he retorted to himself.

	"Then what are we going to do to these fish?"  she asked again as David 
moved to pick up the bucket.  He wasn't sure what was going on, but if John 
didn't want her to know the details, then he wasn't going to supply them either.  

	"We're going to eat them,"  he replied again quietly.  Then he walked 
toward the house, leaving it for his son to figure out.  He started whistling 
softly, fighting the small smile that was beginning to play across his features.  
They were definitely going to have an interesting marriage. 

	John maneuvered the boat under the tree near the river as Delenn waited 
patiently for him to finish.  He turned toward her, sighing.  "Just trust me on 
this, ok?  You really don't want to know.  You'll like the way they taste; 
that's all that matters."  
	
	"But if I do like them, I need to know how to prepare them, correct?"  she 
asked as they started back toward the house behind his father.  

	"Knowing how to prepare them and what they go through to get to that stage 
is two different things,"  he admitted, wrapping his arm around her waist.  
"It's not important how they get to the kitchen, just that they do."

	"You're not making a lot of sense." 

	"I know--just leave it at that,"  he said, glancing toward her.  

	After a moment she nodded, "Very well then."  

	He sighed in relief, beginning to smile. The day was looking up already.  
"So, did you enjoy your first day of fishing?"  he asked brightly.

	"Oh yes, it was wonderful,"  she admitted, smiling.  "All but the nearly 
falling into the water part."  

	John laughed.  "Yeah, I thought Dad was going to do us in for sure.  Now I 
have ammunition for the next time he brings up my little incident."  He grinned 
at her.  "I had a really good time, too.  Thank you for making me come here." 

	"It was for the best. You knew it and so did I," she replied calmly.  

	As they walked into the yard, David drew John's attention as he called 
from the side yard under the trees.  "John, go down into the cellar and get the 
fish cleaning stuff."  

	John nodded, waving his arm as he slowed, then pointed Delenn to the other 
side of the house.  "Cellar's this way."  He led her around the side and past a 
broad blooming bush.  Delenn would have never seen the door if John hadn't 
pointed it out.  It was nearly obscured by the branches of the huge bush.   

	"I think Dad needs to trim this thing,"  he muttered, pushing the branches 
back as he tried to lift the door.  It didn't budge.  He frowned, throwing his 
weight into it as he pulled again, groaning.  The hinges gave finally and it 
opened with a screech.  "Damn--needs to oil the hinges, too."  Letting the door 
down with a thud, he glanced at Delenn as he stepped down the stairs into the 
darkness.  "Be right back," he said with a smile.  

	She nodded, watching him descend down the steps.  The cellar was unlike 
anything she'd seen before.  The door--- or doors--- were small, folding outward 
from the main entrance.  The ceiling looked low, or at least what she took for 
the ceiling was.  A large support beam hung over the base of the stairs, about 
shoulder high.  She opened her mouth to warn him to duck his head but he did at 
the last second, then disappeared.  A moment later a light flickered on, the 
beam swaying back and forth, casting strange shadows on the floor and base of 
the stairs.   She could make out a concrete flooring amid the moving light and 
shadows of what appeared to be boxes or crates.  Her curiosity heighten. She 
carefully moved down the small stone steps, holding onto the side of the doorway 
as she ducked her head inside.  

	She wrinkled her nose slightly at the musty smell that permeated the air 
around her.  The cellar had a damp feel to it; the air was much cooler than what 
was starting to feel very warm outside.  She was amazed at the contrast in 
climate between the two areas that were no more than a few feet apart.  Boxes 
lined the wall.  Small pieces of furniture that looked like they hadn't see the 
light of day in years and two large tables filled with drawers drew her 
attention.  John was standing at one, rummaging through the contents scattered 
along the top, grumbling to himself.  He held something in his hand.  She 
couldn't quite make out what it was, but apparently that wasn't all he was 
searching for.

	She maneuvered down the last few steps, entering the cellar completely as 
Sheridan dropped the piece back on the table with a triumphant, "There it is!"  
and pulled something long out from beneath a pile of what looked like debris.  
Retrieving what he had dropped, he turned quickly, then jumped when he saw her.  
"Damn, Delenn!  You nearly scared me to death,"  he said loudly.  "I thought you 
were outside." He took a deep breath, shaking his head.  

	She smiled at his reaction instantly.  "I am sorry. I have never seen the 
inside of a cellar like this before,"  she admitted.   "I did not mean to 
frighten you."  Her grin broadened as she covered her mouth slightly.  

	"It's not funny,"  he retorted, stepping toward her.

	"Yes, it is.  You should have seen the look on your face when you turned 
around." She laughed slightly as he shot her a dirty look.  
	
	He motioned her up the stairs in front of him as he switched off the 
light.  "For your information, this place gave me nightmares when I was a kid,"  
he muttered, moving up behind her.  "I believed this--this monster lived down 
here.  Dad couldn't get me down here for anything, and trust me, he tried."  She 
was smiling as he stepped back into the grass. "So don't go sneaking up on 
people, all right?"  

	"I am not a monster,"  she muttered, fighting the urge to laugh.  He 
glanced up at her as he closed the door with a clang.  His eyes spoke volumes as 
she grinned at him.  

	"I'm glad you think my childhood fears are so damn funny,"  he muttered, 
turning and moving back toward the front of the house. 

	"It's not that, John," she said, moving quickly to catch up.  "It is--
well, you can take on all the shadows and Vorlons and anything else they throw 
at us in space, yet you say you were afraid of this imaginary monster that lived 
in your cellar."  She laughed again as he shook his head.

	"I was eight years old, all right?  I was impressionable back then,"  
Again she laughed.  "If you had an older cousin that loved to torment you with 
ghost stories and monster movies, you'd have been the same way,"  he pressed, 
starting to grin at her reactions.  "Just you wait, I'm sure there're going to 
be skeletons in your closet that I get to uncover."

	"Skeletons in my closet?  Why would I have---"
	
	John cut her off. "I meant secrets, Delenn. Stuff you don't want anyone 
else to know,"  he clarified.  Her eyes widened slightly as she immediately 
stopped laughing.  "See, I knew you had something.  Just give me time, I'll 
discover it soon enough."  He grinned at her as they rounded the front of the 
house.

	"That is not funny, John."

	"No, it isn't.  So I don't want to hear anything more about my monster, or 
I promise you will regret it,"  he said, teasing her.  
	
	She nodded immediately.  "Consider it dropped."  
	
	He chuckled to himself as they met with his father under the trees. "Did 
you find everything?" David asked, glancing up.  "You were gone long enough."

	"Yeah, I found everything.  Have you ever considered keeping it all 
together, just out of--say, convenience?"  He dropped the items on the table as 
David smiled.  

	"No, never crossed my mind," he muttered.

	Delenn watched as David sorted through the items he had out.  A knife, a 
cutting board, what looked like pliers and two large bowls.  John caught her eye 
and looked back at his father.  "Dad, why don't you take Delenn inside and show 
her where everything is so she can clean up.  I'll do this."  

	David nodded absently, pouring water into one of the bowls.  "All right, 
just make sure you put all the innards in---"

	"Dad I know," John said quickly.  "Just take Delenn inside."  

	Delenn looked from the fish back to John slowly. "You are right; I do not 
want to know,"  she muttered and turned back toward the house, not waiting for 
David.  Certain aspects of this fishing did not appeal to her and this was 
definitely one of them. She had no desire to know what was about to be done with 
those fish.  

	John smiled, watching her walk away.  He'd gotten out of that fairly 
easily.  Would wonders never cease?  As David turned toward the house, John 
stopped him with his voice.  "I saw your dart board in the cellar; nice 
addition."  He grinned as his dad turned suddenly, then smiled.  The dart board 
had been hanging above the table.  At first, John had simply racked his eyes 
over it and moved on.  What he saw, however, made him do a double take.  Smack 
in the middle, filled with darts, was the smiling face of the late President 
Clark.  

	"A man has to have a hobby, doesn't he?"  David said with a wink, then 
left.  John was still chuckling as he pulled the first fish out and started to 
work.


END [2/3]            (Commercial Break)


Part 3 of 3



	Ok, here’s the last part hope you like the way it ends!  
Let me know!

	This story takes place between the Babylon 5 episodes 
“RISING STAR”  and “DECONSTRUCTION OF FALLING STARS.” It is 
therefore a gap filler.  Our first story entitled “WHO”S ON 
FIRST,’ was designed to read like a television episode.  In 
fact, we did a teleplay version complete with the plot A and 
plot B structure.  The following story is more typical of 
fan fiction work.  “FISHERS OF MEN” is basically a novella.  
We would like to dedicate this novella to a very brave 
cross-section of humanity.  This cross-section is composed 
of people who face terminal illness.  We want the moments of 
this tale to give you the light you need to force your 
shadows to recede.   



_____________________


Fishers of Men



Written by 

M.C. Hart and Mike Horrom

Edited by Tracy Lynn Ford



(Karszak@aol.com)
_________________



	Once the fish were cleaned and filleted, David took 
them inside and washed them up, placing them into the 
refrigerator until later that evening.  John cleaned up the 
mess in the yard, then went inside to clean himself up. The 
last thing he wanted was to walk around smelling like fish 
the rest of the day.  He was certain Delenn would appreciate 
the thought.  During the hotter part of the day they stayed 
inside talking and visiting, neither David nor John was all 
too willing to go out and brave the heat.   

	The sun finally dropped as the heat dissipated from 
sweltering to tolerable.  He was never going to get used to 
planetary weather.  Delenn had been right when she commented 
that he was spoiled by the station’s constant temperature.  
He was; he admitted it freely.  He had spent far too many 
years of his life in space. His body had adjusted 
accordingly, and he couldn’t change now.  Just like this 
morning when the sun’s rays had filtered in through his 
window, he’d awoken immediately.  Since the light hit his 
face he’d been up and couldn’t go back to sleep.  When 
you’re used to something, you can’t change over night, 
regardless of the circumstances.  He was used to his bedroom 
being completely dark.

	“It feels better outside,”  he muttered as he stepped 
back into the house.  At least you can breath out there now, 
he thought as he saw his father smile.  He was starting to 
feel like he was penned up in the house. He was ready to get 
out and move around. He just wasn’t used to sitting and 
doing nothing. He couldn’t remember the last time he had 
time to do nothing.   			 		

	“Well, what do you expect, son?  Summer’s just getting 
started.  It tends to get a tad bit warmer in the 
afternoons.  If you think this is bad, wait till next 
month.”

	John shook his head. “No, thank you.  You can keep your 
heat.  I plan on being back on the station, nice and cool, 
by next month.”  He picked up his glass and took a long 
drink.  Lemonade hit the spot in weather like this; too bad 
Delenn didn’t seem to feel the same way.  She’d taken one 
drink, made a face, and as politely as possible declined any 
more.  John smiled, remembering her expression.  Too tart, 
perhaps.  “Dad, you do care if we take a couple of horses 
out?”  he asked, glancing back at his father. “Delenn’s 
never ridden one, and I promised to take her for a ride 
before we leave.” 

	David frowned slightly.  “No, I don’t mind, but do you 
think it’s wise to put her on the horse alone?  We don’t 
want her falling off,” he said with a tinge of worry.  If 
she’d never ridden a horse before, now was not the time to 
learn.

	John’s eyes widened.  “No--we don’t want that,”  he 
agreed quickly, visions flashing through his mind of what 
would happen to him if she did.  He shook his head quickly.  
David laughed gently as John moved toward the stairs.  
“Delenn?” he called, looking up the steps.  When no answer 
was forthcoming, he called again, then climbed the steps.  
David sat in the living room, listening to several doors 
open above him, his sons footsteps, a periodical questing 
voice.  He smiled quietly to himself.

	“Where the hell did she go?”  John wondered aloud as he 
moved back down to the living room.  “I thought she was 
upstairs.”

	David grinned.  “You’re not very observant, are you?  
I’d have thought someone in your position would be more 
aware of the things happening around them.”

	John looked at him confused.  “So where is she?”

	David motioned with a nod toward the kitchen.  “She 
went out the back door about ten minutes ago,”  he muttered, 
sipping his drink innocently.

	John glared at him as he moved into the kitchen.  “Then 
why didn’t you say something before I went upstairs?”  he 
asked loudly.

	“You didn’t ask,” David commented casually, smiling 
broadly.

	“You didn’t ask,”  John mimicked sarcastically to 
himself as he opened the back door.  He’d forgotten about 
the little quirky mind games his father loved to play.  
Sometimes they drove him crazy.  They were in good humor, 
but inevitably he was always caught off guard.  His dad used 
to say that he did it to keep him on his toes. Well he was 
definitely going to be on his toes from here on out. 

	The back yard was empty.  He’d thought she might have 
been in the swing, but no luck. He checked around the side 
of the house---nothing.  Where did she go? he wondered.  
He’d just been on the front porch a few minutes ago and she 
wasn’t there.  “Delenn?”  he called, searching the landscape 
for movement.  Great, he’d brought her to earth and lost 
her, this will sit really well with Lennier.  Turning in a 
circle, he listened but got no response.  She’d been gone 
what--ten minutes, where could she have disappeared to in 
ten minutes?  Then he realized that the side door to the 
barn was ajar.  Mentally kicking himself for not thinking of 
that first, he moved toward it.  

	The hinges groaned softly as he pulled the door back, 
stepping inside. A menagerie of smells assaulted his nose, a 
mixture of straw, mildew and horses.  Tiny fragments of 
straw drifted through the rays of sunlight that permeated 
through the door as he wiped his face.  He glanced up, 
seeing several more filtering down on top of him from the 
hayloft.  “Delenn, are you in here?”  The horses snorted, 
startled by the sudden sound.

	“Yes, I’m over here.”

	He grinned, moving toward the sound of her voice.  She 
was with the horses.  Glancing absently at the empty stalls 
as he passed he remembered when the majority had been filled 
with animals: cows, goats, horses.  He even remembered the 
pigs out by the leanto.  Now the barn was like a monument to 
the past.  Its once new crisp boards now weathered and worn, 
more stalls than not were falling in from lack of care.  The 
entire barn begged to be renovated or fall in on its self in 
the next ten years.  John knew his father couldn’t do the 
upkeep a project this big required, nor had he been able to 
for years now.  He just hated to see the old thing slowly 
deteriorate away.  It held many fond memories: playing hid 
and seek with Lizzy, jumping from the hayloft into piles and 
piles of straw, and the huge swing his dad had erected off 
the support beam in the center of the floor.  He glanced 
upward, smiling.  He could still make out where the rope had 
wore into the thick wood. They’d spent so many hours on that 
swing. His eyes lowered, and he caught sight of Delenn.

	She was leaning on her arms, resting against the gate 
of one of the stalls, her attention on the horse inside.  
“There you are,”  he said lightly as she glanced toward him.  
Stepping up behind her, he laid his hands on her shoulders 
as she smiled.

	“I just cannot get over how elegant and graceful these 
horses are,”  she said softly, returning her eyes to the 
animal.  “They are beautiful, John.”
	
	“So are you,”  he whispered, kissing her hair.  “Would 
you like to ride one?”

	“It will not harm the horse?”  she asked softly, 
relaxing back against him as he wrapped his arms around her.

	“No, my dear.  It will not harm the horse,”  he said 
smiling.  “I’m sure they’ll enjoy the exercise, they haven’t 
been ridden in quite a while.”
	
	She smiled at his tone.  “I would like to ride one,”  
she admitted as her heart leaped slightly at the thought.  
She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to ride such a 
magnificent animal.  John had tried to explain the thrill to 
her, but he confessed words were inadequate to the actual 
experience.  She wanted to experience this thrill he so 
desperately tried to share with her. 

	“Let me get a saddle,”  he whispered, pulling back and 
quietly moving into another stall.  She turned her head, 
following him with her eyes until he disappeared behind a 
small wall.  She heard rustling, then something clanked.  
Within moments, he returned carrying a large bulky seat of 
some sort.  “This is a saddle,”  he commented, holding it 
out.  “It’s what you sit on when you ride a horse.  You can 
ride bare back,”  he grinned “but I wouldn’t suggest it 
until you’re more skilled.”  

	“Bare back?”

	“It’s when you ride the horse without any type of 
saddle, like that,”  he added, pointing to the horse in the 
stall.  “You have to hold onto the mane--the hair on it’s 
head.  It’s harder; not many people ride like that anymore,”  
he admitted.  “Not to mention how painful it can be on your 
butt.”  Delenn smiled as he glanced at the four horses.  
“Which one do you want to ride?”

	Delenn turned her attention back to the brown horse she 
had been watching.  “This one,”  she said with a tinge of 
excitement in her voice.

	John grinned.  “That’s Fire Storm.”  He moved to the 
gate as Delenn frowned.

	“Fire Storm?”  
	
	“She was just a colt when I was home last. She’s grown 
into a beautiful animal.”  He swung the gate open as Delenn 
stepped aside, pulling it shut behind him.  “Fire Storm is 
the name Danny gave her.”  He laughed.  “They told me she 
was born in the middle of a thunderstorm.”  He set the 
saddle down, stepping slowly toward the horse.  It snorted, 
stepping around as he touched its nose, talking softly.  
Delenn couldn’t make out the words. He was almost 
whispering, but whatever he said calmed the animal almost 
instantly.  She smiled, seeing the reaction, and watched 
amazed as he petted it slowly, then slid something into its 
mouth.  

	“What did you just give her?”  she questioned, watching 
the horse chew.  He reached over, taking something from the 
saddle. It had a long strap wrapped on it.  He held it in 
one hand, still petting the animal with his other.

	“A carrot.  Dad keeps them in the pin over there 
especially for the horses.  They love them,”  he said 
softly, never taking his attention from the big animal.  The 
horse nudged him sharply as John grinned.  “No more for now-
-behave and let me get you saddled.”  Delenn watched as he 
placed this thing into the horses mouth, forcing it back 
into its lips, then swung the strap over its long neck.  He 
strapped it around Fire Storm’s head, around the ears, then 
tested the clamps.  “This is the bridle and bit.  It helps 
us guide her around by pulling on this strap.  It’s called 
the reins.”  He turned toward her, as he took hold of the 
leather strap, leading the horse toward the gate.  “You want 
to pet her?”

	Delenn’s eyes lit up as he maneuvered the animal 
closer.  She reached out cautiously, not feeling near as 
confident as John appeared with the animal.  She’d seen its 
teeth and she wanted no part of them.  He continued to 
caress the horse softly on the neck as it shook its head, 
startling Delenn just as she was about to touch it. She 
pulled her hand back quickly.  “It’s all right. Don’t be 
afraid of her; she’s a gentle as a kitten.”  He held out his 
hand, taking Delenn’s softly, leading it back to the horse.  
Her breath stuck in her throat as her fingers touched the 
soft, downy hair between its eyes.  She could almost imagine 
the large eye of the horse locking with her’s and she 
grinned.  She was amazed at the texture. “See, she loves to 
be petted; most horses do.  They may be big, but deep down 
they love attention like any other creature,” John’s voice 
said as if from a distance.  

	 “She’s so soft,” she whispered, eyeing the horse.

	“They stay that way as long as you brush them on a 
regular basis.  In the winter, their coats get so thick you 
can run your fingers through it.”  He pulled the horse back 
as Delenn removed her hand.  “I’ll have her saddled in just 
a few minutes, as long as she cooperates,”  he muttered, 
turning the animal back around.  

	She watched with interest as he threw a blanket over 
its back, then proceeded to position the saddle on top of 
the blanket.  Her eyes taking in everything he did.  As he 
finished he turned back toward her, smiling. “Open the 
gate.”  

	She did as he asked, watching the horse walk leisurely 
out of the stall as John guided it with a hand.  “I’ll tie 
her up in the yard, then help you on.  It’ll be safer that 
way.” 

	“What do you mean?”  she asked, stepping beside of him 
as they exited the barn.  
	
	“Well, sometimes horses tend to get a bit restless when 
the rider tries to get on, they move around---side step.  
Since you’ve never mounted a horse before, I don’t want her 
stepping away.  This way I can hold onto you and keep you 
from falling.”  She nodded as he stopped near a long wooden 
stake.  It had a large round ring on the top and John used 
this to tie the long strap into, fastening the horse to it.

	Fire Storm shook her head again, snorting loudly as if 
telling him no.  “Ok, now there’s a bit of a trick when 
getting on,” he tried to explain.  “This is a stirrup,”  he 
indicated, holding out the cup-shaped device hanging near 
Fire Storm’s stomach. “What you do is slide your left foot 
in here and push up while swinging your right leg over the 
saddle.”  He looked at her with raised eyebrows.  
“Understand?”

	She glanced at the stirrup dubiously.  “I’m not sure,”  
she admitted.  “Will I not fall off the other side?” Fire 
Storm was huge.  She wasn’t very comfortable with this idea 
at all.  Had John not been standing there, she would have 
changed her mind on this whole riding situation.  He had 
gone to so much trouble to saddle her up as he would say, 
that she didn’t want to disappoint him.   

	John laughed softly.  “Well, I’m not going to say 
that’s never happened, but you shouldn’t, no. I’ll be here 
to help, don’t worry.” He looked at her, his eyes sparkling.  
This was going to be fun. 

	Delenn sighed deeply, then nodded.  “I am ready to 
try.”  

	John reached out, holding the saddle horn.  “Grab this 
to help keep your balance and give yourself leverage,”  he 
instructed as she reached her hand up.  He smiled, wrapping 
his hands around her small waist.  “Now, slide your left 
foot in the stirrup.”  She did, leaning against his shoulder 
as the horse shifted slightly.  “Good, now as I lift you, 
throw your leg over and sit astride the saddle.”  When she 
nodded, he lifted quickly.

	She pulled just as he said and immediately felt the 
saddle shift slightly.  She let go quickly, thinking the 
saddle was coming off and all but fell back into Sheridan as 
he grunted.  “What?!”  he asked quickly, gathering her into 
his arms.  She grabbed him hastily around the neck, her eyes 
wide.

	“It’s loose!” 

	John frowned, lowering her back to the ground.  
Reaching out, he grabbed the saddle horn pulling on it.  The 
bulk of the saddle gave slightly, but didn’t slide.  “It’s 
all right, it’s supposed to be like this,”  he returned, 
looking at her.

	“You could have warned me,”  she said harshly.

	He sighed, running his hand through his hair.  “I’m 
sorry, it’s my fault.  You want to try it again?”  She 
frowned, looking at the horse.  He could see the indecision 
in her eyes.  “Come on, Delenn, give it a chance,” he said 
softly.  It seemed like an eternity before she glanced back 
at him and simply nodded.  

	Grinning, he stepped back around holding her.  “Ok, the 
same as before; we almost had it.”  She reached up, gripping 
the saddle horn tightly and slowly lifted her foot.  
“Ready?”  he asked near her ear.

	“No, but you may proceed anyway,”  she muttered as he 
smiled.

	“Up you go.”  He lifted again, tensing to catch her if 
she pulled the bail out maneuver again.  She’d nearly 
knocked them both to the ground with that little stunt; he 
hadn’t expected her to do that.  To his delight, she swung 
her leg across and landed into the saddle with a thud, 
griping the saddle horn for all she was worth.  He grinned 
up at her as she sat perfectly still, staring wide-eyed 
straight ahead.  

	Patting her thigh tenderly he tried to draw her 
attention.  “Delenn, you all right up there?”  he asked 
lightly.  She nodded, barely moving her head as the horse 
took a step sideways.  She tensed immediately, her knuckles 
nearly white around the saddle horn.  “Relax, I’m right 
here.” He assured her.

	“If I relax, I will fall.”  She said tightly.

	“No you won’t.”  He patted her leg again.  “Hold on and 
I’ll be up in a second.”  He stepped toward the post when 
her voice stopped him.

	“Where are you going?”  she demanded, alarmed.

	“Just right here, babe.  I’ve got to untie us; you’re 
fine.”  He watched her closely, realizing she was actually 
frightened.  Keeping his hand on Fire Storm’s mane, he 
rubbed the horse softly as he undid the knot.  “Now the 
saddle’s going to shift as I climb on; I’m heavier than you, 
but you are not going to fall, all right?”  he asked as he 
slid his foot into the stirrup, holding the back of the 
saddle.

	“John?”

	He looked at her expectantly.  

	“Where are you going to sit?”  

	“Behind the saddle on the back of the horse.”  She 
nodded slowly.  “Hold on, tight,”  he warned, then lifted 
his weight and swung his leg over. Fire Storm moved back 
several steps as he mounted her.  Delenn gave out a sharp 
yelp, her hand pin wheeling sharply for his arm as he 
grabbed her around the waist. “Easy,” he whispered, holding 
her tightly as he slid his other foot into the stirrup.  
“I’m not going to let you fall, Delenn,” he said gently.

	She shuddered slightly, gripping his arms as he 
adjusted the reins in his hands.  She could feel him behind 
and around her, wrapping her with his body and that helped 
calm her as the horse moved.  “Just relax and enjoy the 
ride,”  he whispered, nudging the horse forward.  They moved 
off, the horse jerking them slightly with each step, rocking 
the saddle from side to side.  “See, this isn’t so bad.”

	Moving off across the field, John made certain to keep 
the horse at a slow pace, not wanting to startle Delenn. 
She’s being very brave about this, he thought softly, 
caressing her stomach; she’s scared to death.  She didn’t 
say a word, didn’t complain, just simply sat, maintaining a 
death grip on his arm.  Laying his chin on her shoulder, he 
whispered in her ear.  “What are you thinking about?”

	She shook her head softly, her hair rustling against 
his face.  “I’m not sure about this, John,”  she said in a 
small voice.  “Being on a horse is not the same as looking 
at one.”

	“You know I won’t let anything happen to you,” he 
whispered, kissing her ear. “Fire Storm is gentle.”

	“I know---but I still cannot help feeling alarmed.  I 
have never done anything like this before,”  she said 
softly.

	“What alarms you about this?  You’re safe on the 
saddle; the horse is quiet; there’s nothing to fear,”  he 
grinned.  “You can stand at my side and command an armada 
against the Shadows and Vorlons--why would something so 
simple as a horse ride scare you?”  He felt her laugh softly 
against him as her grip loosened ever so slightly.   
	
	“You are correct; I am being foolish,” she whispered.

	“No, never foolish,”  he returned, kissing her cheek as 
she relaxed back against him.  

-  -  -  -  -

	They made their way across the tree lined field, and 
out into an expanse of land that Delenn had never seen so 
vast.  Grass as tall as the horse’s knees swayed in the 
gentle breeze around them, looking like an ocean of waves 
flickering in the distance.  Very few trees sprouted out of 
the landscape around them.  What few did were clustered 
together like small oasis’s.  She could see the glimmering 
ribbon of water in the distance, winding it’s way through 
the rolling countryside, as if carving its very existence in 
the land.  “This is so beautiful,”  she whispered softly, 
completely at ease.  “All this is your father’s land?”

	“Uh huh--”  Sheridan muttered with a smile.  “As far as 
you can see.  There’s not much to it now; it’s all grown up 
with neglect. You should have seen it when I was young. It 
was truly beautiful then, Delenn.”  He turned the horse to 
the left, kicking slightly with his feet as Fire Storm 
decided it was time for a snack and proceeded to munch at 
the grass.  She shook her head, snorting, but moved slowly 
out with his prompting.  The sun was beginning to set slowly 
in the distance, the heat of the day all but forgotten.  The 
breeze was cool and brisk as it raced across the plains. 
John glanced skyward, watching the clouds.  They were going 
to be getting rain before the night was out.  “We should 
head back,”  he said softly.  “Looks like we might be 
getting wet before we’re done.”

	Delenn followed his gaze, nodding.   “I suppose so, 
though now that I am up here, I’m not sure if I want it to 
end.”  Sheridan grinned, squeezing her to him.  

	“I told you it would be fun.” He lifted his hand from 
where he had relaxed it on the saddle horn and held up the 
reins.  “Here, you hold these for a while.”  

	“What do I do?”  she asked, taking them in her grip.  
She was actually controlling the horse now; she couldn’t 
keep the smile off her face.  John shifted slightly, 
wrapping his arms around her as he leaned into her back.  

	“Just hold onto them, Fire Storm is moving in the right 
direction.  If you want her to turn, simply pull them which 
ever way you to go,” he said softly, laying his head against 
hers.  “It’s all up to you.”  He closed his eyes, contently.  

	Delenn watched the landscape, smiling broadly as her 
eyes kept traveling back to the shoulders and neck of the 
horse. It swayed beneath her with its steady walk, its ears 
twitching from time to time.  Reaching out slowly, she laid 
her hand gently on the back of its neck, feeling it 
shuddered beneath her fingers.  “You are magnificent,”  she 
whispered.  

	Sheridan grinned, opening his eyes.  He knew she’d 
enjoy this. She had been so enthralled by the animal.  To 
share with her even a fragment of his world, what had once 
been a major part of his life, thrilled him beyond belief.  
He had never expected to be able to bring her here, not with 
the problems with Clark, but things were finally turning to 
their advantage.  If even for only a few days, he wanted to 
show her all he could, to simply be with her.  They had very 
seldom got to spend any time together, less and less in the 
past months, especially after Z’Ha’dum.  He had wanted to so 
desperately then, but the Shadow war had intervened. Then 
he’d been kidnapped and they had to stop Clark.  The few 
fleeting moments they had were short and far between.    

	He groaned softly, turning his head to nuzzle her neck.  
“I wish we could stay like this, no responsibilities, no 
duty--just you and me.”  

	Delenn smiled.  “You would go crazy, John,”  she 
returned.  “Maybe not a first, but given a few weeks, you 
would be looking for something occupy your mind.  You’re not 
the type of man to sit back and accept the things happening 
around you.  You must be in the thick of things as you say.”  

	“Would you not be sufficient to occupy my mind?”  he 
asked, kissing her neck just below her jaw.  “I think I 
could live with that.”

	Delenn laughed, turning her head to his lips. “Of 
course you could.”  She looked to the right, spotting 
something in the clump of trees.  “What is that?”  she 
asked.

	Sheridan glanced to where she was looking.  “Hmm--looks 
like---”  He grinned suddenly.  “It’s a tree house.  Come 
on, let’s go check it out.  I bet Danny and Nathan built 
it.”  He helped her turn the horse and head for the trees.

	As they approached, John whistled.  “Damn, they did a 
good job; look at that thing.”  It was huge.  The tree in 
which it was built was large, with bowing branches hanging 
high, forking out in all directions.  Walls were constructed 
around the thick branches, with some sort of almost shingle-
like roofing tilting from high in the leaves.  “Lizzy and I 
never built anything like that,”  he muttered.  

	“Tree house--a house in the tree?” Delenn commented.

	“More like a club house actually.  Somewhere kids go to 
get away from their parents--their own secret place,”  he 
supplied as the horse slowed.  He pulled back the reins, 
stopping Fire Storm’s movements as he glanced up.  “Randolf 
had to help with this.  There’s no way in hell those boys 
could have built something so big.”

	“Randolf is your sister’s husband.”  

	John nodded. “Right, let’s get off; I want to look 
inside.” He leaned forward, sliding off the horse.  

	“If it is their secret place should you not stay out?”  
Delenn asked as John held out his hand for her. She leaned 
over, grasping his neck, letting him catch her weight and 
lower her to the ground.  

	“Nah, it’s not a big deal.  I doubt they’ll mind,”  he 
muttered, grunting.  He grinned, looking up at the house. “I 
gotta see what it looks like inside.”  He took the reins, 
lapping them over a branch, tying it in a loose knot.  

	“But how are you going to get up there?”  she asked, 
scanning the bottom of the house.  

	John was walking the perimeter of the tree, glancing 
around it.  “Well, they either have a rope to climb up or---
Ahh--”  He grinned broadly.  “A ladder!”  He motioned her 
over.  Delenn looked at what he referred to as a ladder 
dubiously.  It was nothing more than several boards adhered 
to the trunk of the tree, leading up into the bottom of the 
flooring.

	“It doesn’t look sturdy,”  she observed.

	He shrugged.  “One way to find out.”  With that he 
grabbed a high rung and swung himself forward, testing the 
strength of the wood.  It creaked loudly, but held.  He 
moved to the next, stepping carefully.  He’d really be 
embarrassed if he found himself on his butt on the hard 
ground.  He could almost hear Delenn with her I told you so 
tone.  After several more cautious steps, he pushed open the 
small trap door lifting his head inside.  “Wow,”  he 
whispered, grinning.   A large open area lay before him, 
wrapping in a circle around the massive tree trunk.  The 
floor boards looked solid enough--without further thought, 
he jumped up, then tentatively tested his weight on the 
boards before completely committing himself to the act.  
They held with little complaint.  Within in an instant, he 
found himself standing cautiously.  “Excellent.”  

	He noticed an additional ladder leading to yet another 
smaller boarded floor above him.  “This is great,”  he said 
smiling.  He climbed that without much concern and peered 
inside.  It was much smaller, more like a lookout post.  Two 
big windows looked out over the landscape around them, all 
but hidden in the cluster of green leaves that now concealed 
the majority of the tree house.  Climbing back down, he 
observed the furniture he had discovered sitting along the 
wall.  An old table and two chairs sat opposite the trap 
door, he hadn’t spotted them when he first came up due to 
the trunk.  Must have been some of the old stuff from the 
cellar, he thought.  They had to have had a hell of a time 
getting it up here. He moved back to the trap door, 
squatting down.  “Come on up,”  he called as Delenn waited 
below, watching for him. “It’s sturdy; you gotta see this.”	
	   	
	Delenn glanced at him silently, then slowly made her 
way up the wooden ladder.  John reached out grabbing her 
arms as she arrived at the top, lifting her up the rest of 
the way, sitting her on the edge of the opening.  “Look at 
this place; isn’t it wonderful?” His eyes were twinkling.  
“They must have worked on this a full summer.”  His eyes 
moved upward.  “There’s another room up top, not as big but 
you should see the view.”  

	“It is very well constructed for a secret place.  We 
have nothing like this on Minbar,”  Delenn commented as she 
glanced around.  

	“You mean you never had a club house when you were 
growing up?”  John asked skeptically.  

	Delenn shook her head, glancing back toward him.  “No.  
As a child I was occupied with temple and learning the 
history of our world.  Did you not do the same thing?”  she 
questioned.

	“Well, I went to school if that’s what you mean.  But 
after that I still had plenty of time to play.”  He grinned.  
“Surely you played as a child, Delenn.”  At the look she 
gave him, he added.  “You know, running through the fields, 
hide and seek, baseball--typical kid stuff.”  

	“Not in the sense that you are referring to,”  she said 
with a slight frown.  “Frolicking, I think, is the term I’m 
searching for.”  John grinned nodding.  “We did not frolic.  
Minbari are raised to be more--reserved-- in our activities 
physical and mental. A majority of our time was spent in 
contemplation and reflection.  Each year in temple is 
designed to enhance our learning in all the different 
aspects of Minbari life.”

	“So what did you do for fun?”  John asked with a frown.

	Delenn smiled.  “We meditate.”

	“Meditate?  That doesn’t sound like much fun to me,”  
he admitted as Delenn laughed softly. “What about your 
imagination?  Didn’t you ever want to just let go and 
picture yourself as say an explorer, or a King of your very 
own country?”  he asked, using some of his own memories as 
an example.

	“We did not think in those terms.  It was more of how 
we could become better members of our caste.”  She grinned 
with a twinkle in her eyes.  “Besides, I believe your 
imagination got the better of you did it not?  Would not 
your monster in the cellar be conjured from an over-active 
imagination?”

	It was John’s turn to give her a look.  “I wouldn’t 
call it over-active,”  he muttered.  “All kids have 
something they’re afraid of, mine just happened to be the 
monster in the cellar.  Don’t stand there and try to make me 
believe that nothing scared you when you were a child.”  

	“No,”  Delenn whispered softly, stepping toward the 
trunk and running her hands lightly over the wooden rungs on 
the tree. “We had the Soul Hunters.”  

	“Soul Hunters?  The same that I read about in the back 
logs?”  he asked as he stepped toward her.

	She nodded.  “Yes,”  she said in a quiet voice.  “It 
was believed that they would come in the night and steal our 
souls while we slept.  For a very long time, I could not 
bring myself to fall asleep for thinking of them.”  

	John stepped to her, hugging her tenderly.  “At least 
my monster stayed in the cellar,” he whispered.

	Delenn smiled.  “Yes, and we do not have cellars on 
Minbar so our children shall not be afraid.”  

	John chuckled softly.  “True; I, however, would like to 
see them frolic from time to time.”  

	Delenn leaned back into his arms, relaxing.  “And build 
a --club house--I’m sure,”  she added, glancing over her 
shoulder to meet his eyes.

	“Of course, they must have the best of both worlds,”  
he whispered, his tone light.  “But then with us as their 
parents, how can they not?”  He kissed her throat softly. 

	Delenn smiled, turning her face to his lips, kissing 
him lightly.  “You are so full of yourself,”  she teased.

	John laughed,  “Nah, I just figure that your 
personality and state of mind will overcome my lowly human 
faults.  They’ll be perfect.”  

	“Exactly how many children are you expecting me to 
have?”  she questioned in mock ire.  “A house full?”

	“Abosfragginlutly,”  he said grinning.  “As the saying 
goes, I want to keep you barefoot and pregnant.”  He turned 
her in his arms, kissing her again.  “Seriously babe, I’m 
not pushing anything.  When you’re ready to commit to 
children, we will, not until then.”   He stared down into 
her eyes, smiling softly.  “But let’s not wait too long; I 
want to enjoy them as much as I can.”  At the look on her 
face, he realized his slip.  He could have gone all day 
without saying that.  

	Delenn buried her head into his chest, wrapping her 
arms around him tightly, closing her eyes.  “I do not want 
to  raise our children alone,”  she whispered, her voice 
cracking.  “Our children will need you, John.”

	“I know,”  he murmured, crushing her against him. “I’ll 
be here as long as I can, babe.  That’s all I can promise.  
I don’t want to prevent you from enjoying our children and 
seeing them grow because of this.  Our lives are disrupted 
enough without you not wanting children.”  He kissed the top 
of her bone crest softly. 
	
	“I do want to have your children, John,”  she said 
sharply, looking up at him. “But I want them to know their 
father.”  

	“And they will, Delenn. They will know me.  We have 
twenty years to have children; that’s a long time,” he 
whispered.

	“No, it’s not.  It’s nothing,”  she moaned.  

	“Babe, it’s all we’ve got, we’ll make the most of it.  
Don’t get upset, please.  I wish I hadn’t brought this up. I 
didn’t mean to,”  he admitted.  This was the last thing he 
had wanted to do. They were having such a good time and he 
had to open his mouth.  He could clearly see how much this 
upset her.  Her eyes were red with unshed tears as he bent 
down and kissed them away.  “Let’s not talk about this 
anymore, ok?”  Thunder rumbled in the distance as he looked 
upward, through the small opening in the flooring above 
them.  “It’s going to rain; we should get back,”  he 
whispered.

	Delenn didn’t say anything, but gave him a gentle nod.  
Her mind was a whirlwind of agony over the conversation.  
How could she keep her composure, when the time came, 
knowing their children would be suffering as well?  It was 
hard enough with him just leaving her behind when he went 
beyond the veil, but the children?  With John’s gentle 
prompting, she brushed those frightful thoughts back and 
moved slowly down the small tree ladder.  John followed 
behind, closing the trapdoor, then jumping the last few feet 
to the ground.  He smiled at her as he reached out caressing 
her cheek. 

	“How long has it been since I told you how beautiful 
you are?”  he asked quietly.  This made Delenn smile, which 
was what he had strived for.  “Whatever the answer is it’s 
been too long.”  He took her in his arms, pulling her 
closer. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he 
breathed, brushing his lips against hers.  “I love you, 
Delenn.”  He kissed her passionately, only pulling back when 
thunder rumbled again, louder.  He grinned as he released 
her.  “We’re going to get wet.”  

	“Then we should hurry back,”  she said with a smile.

	“Or we could stay.  I’m sure between the two of us we 
could find something to keep us occupied in the tree house,” 
he teased, caressing her hips.  “I can think of a thing or 
two off the top of my head.”

	“And I’m sure I would enjoy them, but your father would 
be concerned,”  she countered lightly.  “Would it not be 
best if we headed back? We do have later.”  Her eyes 
sparkled as he grinned.

	“That we do, my love,”  he whispered, kissing her again 
quickly.  He led her back to Fire Storm who stood under the 
blanket of leaves, munching on grass. John held onto her 
waist as she slid atop the horse rather quickly and quite 
effortlessly.  “Hey, you’re getting good at that,” he said 
with a smile.
	
	“I feel more at ease now,” she replied as he untied the 
horse from the branch.  She slid forward in the saddle as he 
climbed up, positioning himself behind her.  “May I?”  she 
asked when he gripped the reins between his fist.  

	“Sure, knock yourself out.”  

	He handed the reins over, relaxing his hands around her 
waist.  She nudged the horse lightly, then frowned as Fire 
Storm simply stood there eating.  John held back a chuckle 
as she did it again.  “What am I doing wrong?”  she wondered 
out loud, glancing at him as he leaned forward.

	“Put your heels into her side. Nudging her with your 
leg isn’t going to get her to move when she’s eating,” he 
instructed.  “Make sure you turn her head with the reins--- 
pull her up.”

	Delenn tried, but the horse had other plans.  Snorting 
loudly, she lowered her head and continued to eat, oblivious 
to the fact that they were ready to go.  John grinned, 
reaching out and grabbing the reins, giving a hard jerk. 
“Come on, girl,” he insisted, kicking softly.  “You can eat 
when we get back.”  

	Again a snort, but she moved off toward the house.  
Delenn smiled.  “Thank you; this isn’t as easy as it looks.”

	John shrugged.  “I’ve had a lot of practice.  I’ve been 
riding horses since I was big enough to crawl onto their 
backs.  It’s like second nature.”  

-  -  -  -  -

	By the time they returned to the yard it was starting 
to sprinkle.  John stopped the horse in front of the barn, 
jumping down.  “We’ll get her into the barn and you can feed 
her a few carrots while I brush her down,”  he muttered, 
helping Delenn off.

	“Brush her down?” she asked as he led Fire Storm back 
into the darkening barn.  “Which part of her?”  The sky had 
darkened considerably on their trip back.  Sheridan flipped 
a switch, bathing the central isle in a bright florescent 
glow.  The empty stalls were cast in mysterious shadows from 
the bails of straw and crates sitting around.

	“All of her. We need to cool her down after the ride.”  
He glanced at her smiling, watching her quietly.  Sometimes 
he couldn’t take his eyes off her.  

	“May I brush her too?”  

	He grinned.  “I think that could be arranged.  Would 
you open the gate, please,”  he asked as he stopped, petting 
Fire Storm slowly.  Delenn did as he asked as he walked the 
horse inside.  He instructed as to where to find the carrots 
as he unsaddled Fire Storm.  When she returned, he was 
almost finished, pulling the bridle out of her mouth.  
“There you go, girl,”  he whispered, glancing at Delenn.  
“And here come the carrots I promised.”  

	Delenn was a bit apprehensive at first, being so close 
to Fire Storm’s mouth but John showed her how to hold the 
carrot and soon she was enjoying the experience completely.
“You were right,” she said with a smile. “This experience is 
going to be difficult to explain to Lennier.  He will never 
understand how much pleasure I have had today.  I wish he 
could be here,” she said wistfully.

	John grinned.  “As much as I like Lennier, I’m kind of 
glad he isn’t here.  This was something that I wanted to 
share with you and only you.”  He brushed the horse softly, 
watching her.  “We haven’t had hardly any time alone.  Maybe 
I’m being selfish, but occasionally I want you to myself, 
without Lennier,” he admitted.

	“Lennier and I are friends,”  Delenn said softly.

	“I know,”  he agreed.  “But don’t you ever get--
uncomfortable when he’s around?  I mean when we’re---”  he 
stopped seeing the smile broaden on her face.  “What?”  

	“You are amusing.  Does it really bother you that 
Lennier is with us most of the time?”  she asked 
quizzically.

	“Well---yeah, I guess it does sometimes,”  he admitted 
softly.

	“Why?”  

	John sighed, looking at the horse.  How can I explain 
to her that the way Lennier looks at her makes me jealous? 
He’s not changed in any way I can put my finger on, but it’s 
something in his eyes.  Something that says she’s mine, I 
just can’t figure it out.  He’s seen the suddle change in 
the younger Minbar over the past year, since he and Delenn 
had begun the rituals.  “I don’t know, maybe I’m just being 
silly.  Is it so wrong to want to be alone with you?”

	“No, it’s not wrong,”  she said, stepping toward him.  
“Lennier understands that we must have time together,”  she 
returned, caressing his chest.

	“But he’s just your aide, Delenn.  It seems to me like 
the two of you spend a lot of time together.  More so than 
say--Londo and Vir.”  

	Delenn laughed.  “If you were Londo’s aide would you 
want to spend all that much time with him?”

	John chuckled.  “You got a point there, my dear.  But 
when we get married, he won’t be hanging around our 
quarters, right?”  he asked with an arched eyebrow.

	“Not unless you really want him there,”  she said 
smiling.  “I had planned on taking care of you myself.”

	“I definitely agree with that,”  he muttered, bending 
down to kiss her softly.  He released her, holding out the 
brush.  “Your turn; my arm’s falling off.” 

-  -  -  -  -

	By the time they had finished bedding the horse down, 
it was all but dark outside.  Rain was pouring from the sky 
in buckets as Sheridan grinned at her.  “We’re going to have 
to run for it, or we’re going to be drenched.”   Taking her 
hand, they dashed across the yard, making a bee line for the 
front porch.  Delenn was laughing as they mounted the steps, 
shaking the rain off their clothes and hair.  

	“I have never experienced such weather before,”  she 
said, wiping her wet hair off her face.  

	“Exhiliarating isn’t it?”

	Moving into the house, they found David in the kitchen, 
shoulder deep in corn meal.  “There you are; I was wondering 
when you were coming in.  I saw you ride up.  How did you 
like it, Delenn?”  he asked, glancing at her momentarily.

	“Simply magnificent, David!”  her voice was filled with 
excitement.  

	John glanced over his father’s shoulder.  “Smells 
delicious,”  he muttered, shifting his eyes to the plate of 
cooked fish.  Reaching out, he meant to snag a piece, but 
his father slapped his hand back.  

	“Get out, you smell like a horse.  Go get cleaned up. 
It’ll be done soon.”  John grinned as David went back to 
watching the skillet.

	“All right, we’ll be down in a little bit. Don’t eat it 
all,” John retorted, leading Delenn from the room.

	“Don’t eat it all,”  David muttered to himself.  “We’ve 
got enough fish to feed an army and he’s worried about me 
eating it all.”

-  -  -  -  -

	David was just finishing up when John came back down, 
running his hands through his damp hair.  “Mmmm, I feel 
better, Delenn will be down in just a minute.  Anything I 
can help you with,”  he asked as his father glanced toward 
him.  

	“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you for a minute, son,”  
David said, setting the platter of fish onto the table.  
John looked at him expectantly, not sure what he wanted.  
“This is the first time we’ve had a moment alone since what 
we discussed in the boat this morning.”  John unconsciously 
held his breath.  He’d hoped it would be done and over with.  
He really didn’t want to go back into that conversation 
again.  His father apparently wasn’t finished yet.  David 
stared at him softly, his eyes speaking volumes.  “I’m glad 
you told me, son. I know it was hard, but I did need to 
know,”  he whispered.

	John exhaled roughly, his body sagging slightly at the 
realization that Delenn had been right.  But then she always 
was.  His father was thanking him for telling him about his 
time limitation.  “I wasn’t sure if I should or not,”  he 
admitted quietly, looking at his father without the anxiety 
that had filled his features earlier.  “I know it’s a big 
chunk to swallow.  Trust me I’ve been trying,”  he 
acknowledged.  “I just didn’t want to hurt you, Dad.  I 
didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”

	David frowned, stepping toward him, wrapping his arms 
tightly around John.  John returned his embrace instantly, 
hugging his father tightly.  “Johnny, you’re never a 
burden,”  the older man whispered, fighting his tears.  “I’m 
your father, son.  Never feel there’s anything you can’t 
tell me.  No matter how bad it might be.  It’s my job to be 
here for you, my honor--”  He pulled back taking his son’s 
face in his hands.  “I love you John.  You’re my only son.  
No matter what happens I will always be here for you.  Don’t 
shut me out of your life,”  he whispered.

	John shook his head. “I won’t.  I promise,”  he said 
quietly.  The weight that engulfed his heart lifted by the 
love and sincerity he heard in his father’s voice.  “Are you 
going to be able to tell Mom?”  he asked, realizing that 
only half his job had actually been done.  

	David nodded slowly.  “In my own way.  But I should 
warn you, she’s going to call you,”  he admitted.  “She’ll 
want to talk to you.  She’s going to be upset.”

	“I know; I think I can handle it.  It helped being able 
to tell you alone,”  John admitted, smiling softly.  “I got 
the worst of it off my chest.  If I would have had to tell 
you both at the same time...”  he shook his head.  “I’m not 
sure I could have,”  he admitted.

	David smiled.  “I understand, son.”

	Delenn stood outside the kitchen door, leaning against 
the wall, listening.  She’d come down just moments after 
John and had almost interrupted them before she overheard 
the conversation.  A small smile played across her lips as 
she listened to the tender exchange between father and son.  
Her heart ached for both of them as a small tear slid down 
her face. Wiping at it quickly, she drew a deep breath.  She 
wasn’t meant to hear this conversation; it was private and 
she planned on keeping it that way.  Getting control of 
herself she wiped her eyes again and pulled herself upright.  
She strolled into the kitchen as if she’d just come 
downstairs.  “That smells wonderful, David,”  she said, 
smiling as she glanced at the two standing next to the 
counter.
	
	“Thank you, Delenn,”  he said with a smile, stepping 
away from his son with a small look.  John grinned as he 
turned toward her, leaning against the counter.  “I hope you 
like the way it tastes,”  David admitted, reaching into the 
cabinets.  He handed his son the plates.  “Here, finish the 
table. I’ll get everything else out,”  he instructed, 
turning away.  John did as he was told, grabbing a piece of 
fish when he finished. Neither of them acted as if the 
conversation had ever taken place.

	Pulling it apart, he blew on it, waiting for Delenn to 
finish helping David.  When she turned toward him, he held 
out a small piece smiling.  “Taste this.”  She opened her 
mouth as he popped it in, waiting for her reaction as he ate 
a piece of his own. 

	Chewing thoughtfully, she considered the different 
textures, crunchy outside while the interior was soft, 
almost flaky.  She smiled as her eyes widened slightly.  It 
had a distinctive flavor, but it wasn’t overpowering.  “This 
is delicious,”  she said, swallowing.

	John nodded, grinning.  “I thought you would like it.”  
She reached out, taking the rest of the fish from his hand 
and broke it in half, returning the smaller portion back to 
him.  He chuckled as he watched her eat.  As much as she 
seemed to be enjoying this, he was going to have to find a 
way to import some fish onto the station for her.   

	“Don’t you think it’d be more comfortable to sit and 
eat?”  David inquired, motioning to the table.  “With 
utensils, perhaps?”   He grinned as he caught his son’s eye.  
“I’m not sure how you conduct dinner, John, but I’ve always 
been a firm believer in tables and chairs.”  

	“I have a table,”  John interjected with a smile, 
holding out Delenn’s chair as she sat down.  “Couple of 
chairs, too, if I remember correctly,”  he teased.  David 
grinned shaking his head.  “Hey, just because I don’t cook, 
doesn’t mean we still can’t have dinner at my place,”  he 
added, sitting down as he picked up his glass.

	“I do cook for him often,”  Delenn admitted, smiling at 
her fiancee as David dished out the food.  “It’s either that 
or we go out to eat.” She stifled a chuckle as she finished.  
“It’s safer than eating his cooking.”

	John nodded, smiling softly at her teasing. It was the 
truth.  “I’d prefer a home cooked meal to restaurant food.  
It’s convenient, but not near as good.  Delenn’s an 
excellent cook,”  he said giving her a wink.  “I never 
thought I’d enjoy Minbari food as much as I do.”  

	“I have tried to cook human cuisine, though somehow it 
just does not come out right,”  she admitted with a slight 
frown.  John chuckled, remembering her attempt at meat loaf.  
No, it did not quite turn out.  Reminded him of his Flarn 
attempt. She had been so down hearted, and he had thought it 
was hilarious.  It had taken all his control not to laugh 
outright.  They had ended up eating at the Fresh Air that 
night and it took a while before she attempted that again.

	“You tried, Delenn.  That’s all that matters,”  he 
replied, eating.

	“I would like to know how you cooked this, David. It is 
really delicious,” Delenn said, taking a big bite.  David 
glanced at her smiling.

	“I’ll give you the recipe for the batter.  It’s really 
simple; I doubt even John could screw it up,” he said eyeing 
his son.

	“Don’t bet on it,”  John said sotto voce, his attention 
on his plate.

	David chuckled, then took a small bite, watching 
Delenn.  She was totally engrossed in the fish, eating bite 
after bite.  He nudged John, who glanced up to him, then 
motioned to Delenn with his head.  John followed his gaze 
and grinned, watching her.  Yes, fishing had been a very 
good idea.  She polished off the two pieces on her plate and 
took two more, oblivious to their watching eyes.  

	John shook his head in wonderment, returning to his 
plate.  They ate silently for a few minutes, then David 
spoke, drawing their attention.  “So tell me about this 
wedding you two are going to have,”  he said with a smile.  
“When are you going to tie the knot?  Neither of you have 
really said anything about it.”

	John shrugged.  “Well truthfully, we haven’t completely 
decided on all the details yet,”  he admitted, taking a 
drink, then wiping his beard.   “We don’t want anything big-
-just a few friends.  A media circus I can do without.”  
The last thing he wanted was the ceremony broadcast all over 
the space ways on ISN.  He and Delenn had hardly no private 
life as it was; he wasn’t going to allow this special moment 
in their life to be wrecked.

	“We have considered having it on the white star before 
returning to Babylon Five,”  Delenn said, wiping her mouth 
of fish crumbs.  “John wants it as---”  she thought a 
moment, trying to remember his words,  “low key as 
possible,”  she finished with a smile.  

	“Before you leave Earth?”  David asked with a tinge of 
hope in his voice.  Even though his wife couldn’t be there, 
he’d love to be at his son’s wedding.  This would be his 
only chance.  

	John glanced at him, then smiled at the look on his 
face.  “Yeah, we could do it before, I suppose.  What do you 
think Delenn?”  he asked, looking toward her.  She had a 
mouthful of fish and could only nod in his direction.  He 
chuckled at her expression.  “Just chew,”  he teased, then 
nodded to his father.  “We’d love to have you, Dad, though 
that means we’re going to have to make some decisions how 
we’re going to do this.”  He frowned slightly, going over 
the tentative plans in his mind.  

	“Who’s going to officiate?”  David asked, taking a bite
as he looked toward John.  

	“Well, we were thinking about having Draal do it for 
us.”  He grinned at his dad.  “He’s the Minbari that resides 
in the Great Machine on Epsilon Three.  He and Delenn were 
good friends for many years.  You’d probably like him, if we 
decide to go that route.  Very outgoing, that one.  Never 
met a Minbari quite like him,”  John admitted, remembering 
his first encounter with Draal. He’s been a bit taken aback 
when he’d stepped out of the shower and had the Minbari 
appear right in front of him.  Thank God for bathrobes.  
“Course it really wouldn’t be him, just the holographic 
image,”  he muttered.  “Draal doesn’t leave the machine, but 
then if he came---Zathras would come too.”  He was lost in 
thought again.

	David frowned, listening to his son.  Draal?  The Great 
Machine?  Zathras?  What was this boy talking about?  Said 
this Draal resides in a machine?  An outgoing Minbari?  
Apparently John was hanging out with a very strange crowd on 
Babylon 5.  But then it was a space station with a quarter 
of a million people, mostly aliens.  How could this Draal 
officiate at the wedding?  “John, aren’t you going to have a 
human wedding?  I thought perhaps you would show Delenn our 
traditions,”  he said trying, to draw more information from 
his son.  When John didn’t answer, he looked toward his son, 
only to see him staring at Delenn with a curious expression 
on his face.  David glanced toward her himself and smiled.  
She was literally putting the fish away.  He blinked, 
astounded at the amount she was consuming.  He’d have never 
imagined someone as petite as her eating so much. Neither 
had his son from the look he was giving her. 

	She stopped chewing suddenly with an odd expression on 
her face.  Reaching up, she slowly pulled out something thin 
and white.  “Bone,”  she commented looking at it, then 
discarded it to her plate.

	John chuckled.  “Sorry, I thought I got them all,”  he 
admitted.  He shook his head lightly.  “Leave it to you of 
all people to find a bone.”  Delenn gave him a strange look 
and resumed eating as he laughed, watching her.    

	David reached out, nudging his son as he drew his 
attention back to their conversation.  “The wedding.  Aren’t 
you going to have it human style?  You know, to show Delenn 
our customs,”  he repeated as John shook himself and turned 
back to his father.  

	“Hmmm--uh, well no,” he returned, glancing back at 
Delenn.  God how could she eat so much?  She really did like 
fish.  “We’re going to intermix the ceremony,”  he said, 
turning back to the older man.  “It’s only right.  This way 
basically we’ll be legal with both traditions.”  

	“And how are you going to do that?”  David asked with 
puzzlement.  

	“We’re planning on exchanging rings to follow the human 
tradition.”  He grinned. “I picked up some really nice 
ones,” he added softly, leaning toward his father.  But he 
hadn’t needed to worry about Delenn overhearing.  She was 
focused on the fish and little else.  Shaking his head he 
continued,  “And we’re eating the red fruit to symbolize the 
Minbari joining.  There’s also a ritual of---”  He frowned, 
trying to come up with the words to describe it.  A lot of 
this was still new to him as well and by the attention 
Delenn was giving the fish he doubted she’d jump in and 
help.  “Tower building?”  he finished unsure of his words. 
“It’s kinda hard to explain. The two people that are to be 
joined have to jointly build this--structure--out of crystal 
pieces.”

	Again he shook his head.  This was the second he had to 
build, and he was thankful Delenn would be there to assist.  
He didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of 
everyone and during something so important.  His first 
attempt had been over a year ago and was the most 
humiliating experience in his life.   She had come to him, 
dropping off all these beautiful colored crystal panels.  
Then she had explained that it was his responsibility to 
build a towering structure out of them and present it to 
her.  Another of the many endless rituals.  At first he’d 
been all for it.  How hard could it be?  He’d built models 
all his life as a child, this would be a breeze.  Or so he 
had thought.  

	Upon further inspection, he had soon realized that this 
tower was to be free standing, there was no glue or other 
adhesive to attach the panels together with.  This posed a 
major problem.  He couldn’t seem to get it any higher than 
two feet before it collapsed in on itself again and again.  
It reminded him of building a house of cards.  He’d never 
been able to do that.  As his frustration grew, he was 
thankful there was no time limitation on the construction.  
He fought with the crystals for over two weeks and finally 
even resorted to drawing Garibaldi and Ivanova in on his 
little problem.  They couldn’t officially help him, but they 
did give him as much constructive criticism and advice as 
possible.  He’d come to realize that the ritual had to be 
about patience.  He was nearly at the end of his.  The 
stupid panels simply refused to cooperate with him.  The 
kicker was, he had to use all of them in the construction, 
regardless of how large it was.  

	More nights than not he’d sat up, cursing the colored 
panels as they lay mocking all his attempts.  When the 
inspiration finally struck late one night, he’d been on the 
project for almost a month.  He bolted off the couch, 
dressing quickly and shot out of his quarters.  When he 
returned a short time later with a small package in his 
hand, he smiled smugly at the panels and got to work.
He spent most of the night putting the damn thing together 
and all but fell asleep the next day in his office.  But he 
was pleased to be finally finished with his task and more 
than willing to show his work off to Delenn so they could 
move on to the next ritual.  There was always another 
waiting in the wings.  He’d come to accept that as the norm.

	He smiled slightly as he remembered her reaction.  At 
first she had been so pleased that he had accomplished the 
job.  However; upon further inspection she had looked at him 
with a curious expression and asked in a calm voice,  “You 
glued them?”

	He had shrugged sheepishly and grinned.  His reply had 
been,  “You never said I couldn’t.”  She had accepted that, 
even though the ritual wasn’t performed completely by the 
book. But then their relationship wasn’t completely by the 
book either.  She did inform him that the panels were not 
supposed to be adhered in any way to each other and for him 
to remember that for future reference.  He hadn’t realized 
what she meant until she informed him of the tower they 
would build at their wedding.  He’d nearly died when he 
heard that, thinking of every conceivable disaster possible 
happening.  She must have read his mind, because she quickly 
assured him that they would build it together and she would 
be there to help him if he stumbled.

	“Other than that, the plans are still up in the air,” 
he admitted. “We haven’t really decided what we’re doing.”  
He looked back at Delenn, seeing her staring silently at the 
wall.  What was she looking at?  “Delenn, what are you 
doing?”  he asked.

	“Hmmm?  Nothing,”  she said in a light voice.  She 
turned her head toward him, smiling.  Her head felt light, 
slightly disconnected, but it was a pleasant feeling.  “What 
is it John?”  

	He shook his head, eyeing her silently.   

	“Son--”  David’s voice broke the small silence that 
surrounded them as John studied her.  “Does fish have any 
kind of effect on the Minbari physiology?”  he asked, 
watching his future daughter-in-law. 

	John jerked his head toward his father.  “What?”  he 
asked startled; he hadn’t even considered that.  “I don’t 
know,”  he said quickly, then looked back at Delenn.  

	“I’d say yes,”  David continued.  “She’s probably had 
enough,”  he supplied, sliding the plate of fish away from 
her side of the table.  “We may very well be in for an 
interesting night,”  he added softly.

	John reached out, taking her plate abruptly, sitting it 
on top of his.  “That’s enough, babe.  I think you’ve had 
plenty.”  Delenn smiled at him softly, squeezing his hand as 
he swallowed, not sure what to expect.  I should have 
checked this out first, he thought.  You never introduce 
something new to someone that’s never tried it before, 
especially when your dealing with alien physiology.  God, 
why didn’t I think about this?  But then he answered his own 
question.  Because I don’t look at her as an alien, she’s 
Delenn.  He sighed as he glanced to his father.  David shook 
his head in disbelief.  “Yeah, I screwed up,”  he whispered.

	“We screwed up,”  David contradicted.  “It was my idea 
to go fishing.  Neither one of us thought about this.  We 
should have known better,”  he admitted, leaning forward on 
his arms as he rested them around his plate.  “I hope she’s 
going to be all right; she looks almost drugged or drunk.”  

	John made a face. “I hope not, Minbari don’t take well 
to alcohol.  Tends to make them a bit violent,”  he said 
tentatively.  “If this reaction is similar, we may be in 
trouble.”  He felt terrible.  He was extremely concerned 
about what this was going to do to her, hoping that it would 
be a mild reaction, whatever direction it choose to take.  
But she had eaten a great deal of fish.

	“She doesn’t look violent,” David supplied softly as 
John sighed and rose, taking Delenn by the arm.

	“Fortune favors the foolish,”  John muttered, lifting 
her to her feet.  “Get rid of the fish, Dad.  I’m going to 
see if she’ll lay down.”  He smiled softly at her.  “Come 
on, Delenn.  Let’s lay down for a little while, what do you 
say?”

	“As you wish,”  she said softly, smiling.  She reached 
out, caressing his face.  “I like your beard.”

	John nodded, glancing over his shoulder at his father.  
“Thank you,” he whispered.  “Come on.”
	
	David fought down a chuckle as he watched them walk 
slowly from the room.  The seriousness of the situation was 
slowly dissolving into humor. She was toasted or at least as 
toasted as a Minbari could get.  And off of fish.  Shaking 
his head, he rose and proceeded to get rid of the fish as 
John suggested.  He didn’t want it sitting around for her to 
get into again.  Not that he was certain she would, he had 
no idea what her reaction would be when this little euphoria    
wore off.  But still, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

-  -  -  -  -
		  	
	John was awakened by a nudge in his ribs.  Groaning he 
rolled over, snuggling deeper into the blanket.  He’d spent 
most of the night up, watching over Delenn.  She’d gone to 
bed fairly peaceful and finally fell asleep after he 
promised to sit and talk to her.  He had been very 
apprehensive toward her reaction and words.  She reminded 
him of when he’d done almost the same thing with Susan ten 
years ago.  She’d gotten drunk and, again, it had been his 
fault.  They had been celebrating his birthday and once the 
damage had been done, he had sat up with her too, keeping an 
eye on her throughout the night.    	

	He had never expected to be doing that for Delenn under 
any circumstances.  He vowed that this would never happen 
again.  He wouldn’t introduce her to anything without 
consulting the data base in deep consolation first.  When he 
was certain she was going to be fine, he’d draped a sheet 
over his window and crawled into bed, exhausted.  That had 
been around three this morning.  

	Again the nudge, this time sharper.  He grunted, and 
began to shove the offending hand away. Then caught himself.  
Was Delenn ill?  He rolled back over, forcing his eyes open 
as he propped himself up on his elbow.  “What?  What’s the 
matter?”  he muttered groggily.  Instantly the small light 
beside the bed activated,  bright intense light bathing his 
face.  Squeezing his eyes shut to block out as much of the 
glare as he could, he held up his hand protecting his still 
sensitive eyes from the worst of it, trying to focus on the 
form beside the bed.

	“John, wake up!”  Delenn’s voice was light and not in 
the least bit unhealthy sounding.  In fact, there was a lilt 
of excitement in her tone.  He frowned momentarily, as he 
suddenly realized she was fully dressed---and holding three 
fishing poles?!  He stared at her amazed and bewildered then 
dropped back into bed, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over 
his head.  

	“What time is it?”  he groaned.  “I’m really tired 
Delenn,” he whispered. She couldn’t possibly be wanting to 
go fishing.  He was dreaming, his mind was playing tricks on 
him from lack of sleep.  

	“It’s almost six, you need to get up,”  she said 
ripping the pillow out of his hands.  If he didn’t get up, 
they were going to waste precious time.

	“Six!  In the morning?!  Good lord, Delenn,”  he 
growled, turning his head from the light as he rolled 
against the wall.  “Go back to bed.”  

	“No, get up,”  she insisted, grabbing his arm.  
	
	He rolled over, squinting from the glare as she pulled 
hard on his arm.  “Why are you in such a rush?”  he asked as 
his eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness. “Tell me those 
aren’t fishing poles,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

	“Yes, they are,”  she said brightly, her smile 
broadening.  “Your father said it was best to start early.  
Come on.”  She jerked again on his arm.

	“Fishing?”  He stared at her astounded.  She wanted to 
go fishing?!  “Delenn, stop jerking on my arm, before you 
pull it out of the socket,”  he complained. Fishing?  “I’m 
really not up to fishing this morning; let’s go back to 
sleep,”  he suggested.  

	“John, I want to go fishing,”  she returned.  “I need 
you to help me with what I don’t understand.  Get up,”  she 
insisted.

	He groaned, closing his eyes.  “I’d really rather not,”  
he whispered, laying his arm over his eyes.  

	“Yes, you love to fish,”  she interjected, moving his 
arm down.  “You’re just sleepy.  Once you wake up you’ll be 
fine.”  

	Opening one eye he looked at her skeptically.  “You’re 
not going to let me go back to sleep are you?”  he asked 
defeated. She shook her head, smiling.  He sighed, then 
nodded.  “All right, I’m getting up,”  he said resigned.  

	“I’ve got everything ready in the boat and I even 
baited the hooks,”  she said enthusiastically as he rose and 
began to slowly dress.  She held out the fishing poles to 
show him, proud of her accomplishment.  He looked at her 
strangely, his eyes trailing down the poles.  Sure enough, 
on each line a small worm wiggled and squirmed around the 
metal hook.   Hadn’t it been just yesterday that she made 
such a fuss about him doing the exact same thing?  Somehow 
or another he’d missed something; he had to have.  This was 
a complete turnaround from yesterday. He wasn’t quite sure 
what the correct response should be. He tried to imagine 
Delenn doing just as she said, baiting the hooks, and 
somehow that image just refused to form in his mind.  He 
gave her a half-hearted smile as he buttoned his shirt.  It 
was the best he could come up with after being abruptly 
awoken.  “Are you feeling all right this morning?”  he asked 
skeptically. 

	“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”  she returned with a 
smile.  

	“No reason,”  he retorted with a shrug.  “You’re really 
up for this fishing, huh?”

	She nodded quickly, the poles vibrating in her hand 
from the rapid movement.  “The sooner you get around, the 
sooner we can begin,”  she pressed, clearly indicating that 
he should move faster.

	He sighed, rubbing his face.  They had created a 
monster. She was obsessed with this, or at least it seemed 
like it to him this morning.  “I need a cup of coffee,”  he 
whispered, stretching.  If he didn’t get awake he doubted he 
was going to be functional, much less able to take the boat 
out on the river. Hell, it wasn’t even light outside yet.

	“Your are fine, John.  I want to go fishing,”  she 
pressed impatiently, shaking her head.  

	“No, I will get a cup of coffee, or we won’t go,”  he 
said firmly.  She sighed; the look on her face made it clear 
she was not happy with his decision.  You can just keep your 
Minbari butt in the house and wait for me, he thought. If 
they caught anything he was going to let it go, there was no 
way in hell he was keeping anything and go through what he’d 
gone through last night.  Apparently, she didn’t even 
remember what happened last night.  Talk about opening 
Pandora’s box.

	He lead her out of the bedroom, shaking his head in 
wonderment and confusion.  He knew how she all but jumped 
into things once she set her mind to something but this was 
a little ridiculous.  He wasn’t sure what to expect from 
today but he knew it would be an experience he would 
remember.  

-  -  -  -  -

	Garibaldi stood in the docking bay of the White Star as 
they disembarked from the shuttle.  He grinned broadly as 
Delenn and Sheridan stepped toward him.  “Must be nice to 
take a few days off.  So, did you enjoy yourselves?”  he 
asked, lifting his eyebrows.

	John nodded, smiling as Delenn spoke.  “It was 
beautiful, the things I’ve seen and done are beyond 
imagination.”  Garibaldi grinned broadly, shooting a quick 
glance to Sheridan who shrugged slightly, smiling at Delenn.    
“If you will excuse me, I must find Lennier.  There are many 
things I wish to share with him.”  

	Garibaldi chuckled as she moved off and out the door.  
“Man, I’ve never seen her so giddy.  Where the hell did you 
take her, John?  I thought you were going to your parents 
farm.”  He glanced back at Sheridan, seeing something in the 
other man’s eyes that he couldn’t quite make out.

	“I did,”  he said, the smile slowly leaving his face. 
He reached out, laying a hand on Garibaldi’s arm.  “Michael, 
can you do me a huge favor?”  

	Garibaldi frowned slightly, nodding.  “Shoot.”  What 
was up? Something was clearing bothering Sheridan.

	John glanced around, insuring their privacy and leaned 
a bit closer.  “I need to borrow something of yours,”  he 
said softly.  “It’s important.”  

	Again Michael nodded, clearly confused now.  John took 
a small breath, held it, then released it before continuing.  
Apparently what he was about to say was making him feel 
uncomfortable.  That in itself was making Michael feel 
uncomfortable.  “I need that ten-step book of yours--
actually Delenn needs it,”  he corrected quickly.  “Can I 
have it?”

	Michael’s eyes widened.  “What?”  he couldn’t help it; 
the response just shot out of his mouth.  “But Minbari don’t 
drink!” 

	John nodded quickly.  “I know that,” he pressed, 
hushing Michael’s tone.  “No questions.  Can I have it or 
not?”  His eyes were all but pleading with Michael to say 
yes.  

	Garibaldi stared at him, amazed they were even having 
this conversation.  Questions upon questions flashed through 
his mind.  What had gone on in the last few days?  Why did 
Delenn need that book?  Or more importantly, why did John 
feel she needed it so badly.  He wanted to voice these and 
many more, but Sheridan had said no questions.  He shook his 
head softly.  “Yeah, you can borrow it.”  

	John grinned, slapping him on the back.  “Good man; 
your a lifesaver. I’ll pick it up as soon as we get back to 
the station.”  With that he strolled off, leaving Michael 
scratching the skin of his temple in bewilderment.   	

	
THE END  [3/3]      (Brought to you by Acme Tackle)