From: creative-archive@anxst.com Subject: NEW: "Just one more wonderful surprise" 1/2 by Marcia Elena Date: Mon, 27 Oct 1997 08:13:21 -0800 (PST) Hi, there! This is my first work of fan fiction, ever (I have several in the making, but this is the first one I've finished!), and also my first posting. It's a Marcus and Ivanova story, and it takes place at the beginning of "Epiphanies". Now, if you're looking for action, you won't find it here; the only battles fought here are verbal, emotional ones. Almost everything you'll read here was born of insomnia and written under the influence of a lot of music and even more caffeine. It was a true labor of love, and it took a lot longer to write than I had anticipated. Along the way it took some pretty bizarre and unexpected turns- you see, I had everything meticulously planned inside my head, but once I started writing it the whole thing just took on a life of its own- my scribbling hand was merely a conduit for this story's will. There was one scene in particular that I tried very hard to avoid, but it just kept coming back to me until I had no other choice but to yield and let the story go where it wanted to. Nevertheless, I had a great time writing it, and I hope you'll enjoy it as well. Feedback will be extremely welcomed, but PLEASE BE KIND!!! A heartfelt thanks to Vered for her encouragement, her patience and her undying friendship. She's my beacon. DISCLAIMERS: The universe and characters mentioned herein belong to JMS, Warner Brothers, and now probably TNT as well, but none of them are to blame for the cruel abuse the characters have suffered at my hands. And last but not least: anyone wanting to distribute this story may do so, but please don't forget to keep my name and all headers attached and intact! 'Till next! Marcia Just one more wonderful surprise - 1/2 -------------------------------------- by Marcia Elena The war was over. She couldn't quite believe it. Not that she minded, on the contrary. She was so glad! She had probably never been happier. It was just... well, in all honesty, she hadn't dreamed it would be over so soon. Things had looked so grim that she'd thought it would take a long, long time to turn the tide. And when the Vorlons had gone mad, she hadn't thought they could win. They had been vastly outnumbered and hopelessly outgunned. Hell, she had been sure they'd all end up dead; that had seemed fairly certain. The captain had then tried to convince her not to come with them to the final battle. He'd offered her the chance to stay behind; a chance, as slim as it might have been, to live. But she had turned it down. She wouldn't want to live in a world where everyone she'd ever cared about was dead. What would be the point in going on like that? No, she had wanted to go out fighting. Better to die for something than to live for nothing. Maybe that's what was bothering her; she had accepted that everything would end. She had been prepared for it. They had been there, right at the edge and ready to fall... only that they hadn't. It was over! This whole situation was so surprising, so utterly unexpected... she needed some time to get her bearings again. Also, she wasn't used to being this happy; no, that wasn't right. She wasn't just happy, she was euphoric! It was definitely not her style. She sighed. She should be going to the party; everyone was probably already there, and if she didn't come they'd start wondering about her. Maybe they'd even think she was strange- which, of course, wasn't far from the truth. She sighed again. But she didn't need to go right away. She wanted to spend a few more minutes alone, appreciating the peace and quiet of her quarters. God knew, she'd earned that. She poured some vodka into a tiny glass, wishing that her family could see her right now, wishing they could be with her. She imagined the three of them- her mother, father and brother- standing around her. They were smiling. She raised the glass to them and drank it in a long, slow gulp. It burned her throat as it went down. But it was okay; it was one more confirmation that she was alive. The door chime sounded, and the ghosts of her family vanished into the back of her mind. Just as well; she didn't want anything to bring her down tonight. She promised herself that she wouldn't let anything spoil her good mood. "Enter", she called. The door opened... Trying to keep herself from grimacing, she greeted him. "Marcus." He came in, a wide grin plastered on his face, and the door closed behind him. He, too, seemed genuinely happy. "Hello, Susan." Looking not so discreetly around, he went on. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." "Not at all. I was just having a toast with some dead relatives." She watched him, waiting for a reaction. "Good idea!" he said cheerfully, as if he heard that kind of thing everyday. "Would you mind if I join you? I'd like to propose a toast as well." On the other hand, maybe he did. And she'd thought *she* was strange. Nuts. Furrowing her brow, she silently refilled her own glass and poured one for Marcus. He took the drink from her and, clearing his throat, raised his glass and his voice: "To my brother, and to all the millions who weren't fortunate enough to see this day." He took a sip, and looking deep into her eyes, added: "And to the most wonderful woman I've ever had the privilege to meet." His glass touched hers, making a soft clicking sound. For a moment, she thought he was toasting some unknown woman from his past. Then she noticed that he was gazing too deeply at her. She blushed violently, and tried to mask it by gulping her drink as fast as possible; she could do it, there was nothing to it. But Murphy's law was at work- the vodka went down the wrong way. She tried to swallow it; stupid of her: she gagged. Out the vodka went, thoroughly spraying Marcus' face. Her eyes watering, she tried to speak, but it only made her cough and gasp. If she ever met this Murphy guy she would kill him. Slowly. Painfully. But for now, Marcus would have to suffice. It would be fun. If only she could start breathing normally again. Marcus' hands were around her shoulders, trying to steady her. She jerked him off; she wasn't some helpless damsel in distress! Noticing that his face was still wet, she didn't know whether to laugh out loud or to hide her head in a hole. He was a real sight. "I'm s-sorry," she rasped. The cynical part of her mind leered at her. Marcus finally wiped his face on his sleeve. "Don't worry about it." He took the empty glass from her hand; she didn't even know she was still holding it. After putting it away, he asked: "Are you all right?" She took a very deep breath. "I'm fine." An uncomfortable silence settled between them, during which they exchanged lots of embarrassed sidelong glances, trying to smile reassuringly but failing miserably. She wriggled her hands in frustration. Why couldn't he just leave? Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, he spoke. "Well..." he began, "you're probably in a hurry to get to the party. I heard it's going to be a blast." "Yes. Absolutely." She forced a smile. "You coming?" she asked matter-of-factly, hoping to god he would say no. "Oh no, not me. I'm not very good with crowds." She thanked the universe for small miracles. A few more seconds of silence ensued. "So..." he clasped his hands together with a loud smack, making her jump slightly. "I guess I'll be seeing you later." She nodded her head. "Yeah." "Well, have a good time, then." He backed off towards the door, almost falling over her furniture. Then he turned around, his cloak swirling behind him, and left. No sooner was he out that Ivanova heaved the biggest sigh of relief ever known to mankind. Yet her relief didn't last long- a sudden wave of guilt washed over her. She hadn't been very nice to Marcus. The man had come here looking for some company, had even praised her, and she had repaid him by making him feel like a fool. Well, what could she do? He always seemed to bring out the not-so-pleasant side of her. [There *is* something you can do!] her conscience shouted at her. [Go after him!!] The reply was instantaneous. [Don't be so insensitive!] "Okay, okay," she said aloud, rolling her eyes and raising her hands in defeat. "Fine! But I just know I'm gonna regret this." Ivanova hurried out of her quarters, not really knowing which direction Marcus had taken. The corridor was empty; she looked right, then left. Shrugging, she turned left: it was as good a direction as any. She started to run, sometimes looking back to see if she spotted him. She could call him, but she didn't want to attract undue attention- and she wasn't that desperate to find him yet. She was just about to round a corner; she looked one last time over her shoulder, and WHAM! Ran straight into someone coming from the opposite direction. They fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs, and she hit her head, hard. Dizzy, she shut her eyes tight and moaned. This was turning into one of those days; and it had started out so nicely! She felt herself being lifted off the floor, gently. Her head was throbbing. This was humiliating! She should at least take a look at who was helping her. Was it the same person she had collided with? With some difficulty, she opened her eyes. Her vision was blurred, and it took her a moment to recognize him. Marcus. She closed her eyes again, a tragically loud moan of despair escaping from her lips. Murphy was certainly enjoying himself, now, wasn't he? Flattering to see how much attention he was lavishing upon her. Marcus' grip on her was firm. As he carried her, she could hear him breathing heavily. Then a haze descended upon her, and soon enough she knew no more. **************************************************************************** ******** When she opened her eyes again, she was lying on her bed. she realized. Marcus was sitting beside her, pressing a cool towel to her head, a concerned expression on his face. She wished she would pass out again; oblivion had to be a better alternative than this. Marcus' voice was very soft, very gentle, almost like a caress. So much so, that it actually made her shudder. "Susan... can you hear me?" "Yes!" she replied with annoyance. This shouldn't be happening. She tried to sit, and was immediately gripped by nausea. Her face went chalk white, and Marcus eased her back on the pillows. She fervently hoped that she wouldn't end up puking all over him. "I think that maybe I should take you to Medlab. That bump on your forehead looks pretty big." That was too much. "Look, this is all your fault, damned! If not for you, I wouldn't be lying here right now. The least you can do is try not to insult me!" Hurt and confusion flickered in his eyes. "Insult you? What the blazes are you talking about? I'm only trying to help you here!" It was true. Marcus had never done anything to harm her. In fact, he often went out of his way for her. she scolded herself. Momentarily closing her eyes, she drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She looked at him; he was looking away from her, his head a bit lowered. Ivanova sensed real anguish coming from him, and it made her wince, inside. She placed a hand over his arm. "I'm sorry, Marcus," she said in a low voice. She meant it. "I don't know what came over me." Turning to face her again, he covered her hand with his. "Why are you trying so hard to push me away? I know I can be a pain- occasionally." He gave her one of his looks, and she smiled in spite of herself. He went on: "I know that for a while there, you had some trouble trying to understand where I fit. But I thought we were past that. Are we?" As quickly as it had come, her smile faded. The guilt she'd felt before was nothing compared to what she was feeling now. "You have to understand, Marcus, that it's hard for me to trust people. I was hurt before, badly. I don't want to be hurt again." His eyes were drilling into her. "I'd think that by now you'd be able to see that hurting you is the farthest thing from my mind." "You're right." It was a poor answer, she knew. But she didn't know what else to say. Marcus tenderly squeezed her hand, quietly showing her that it was okay. After a brief moment of silence, he asked: "So, tell me, where were you going in such a hurry? You looked like you were running from the devil." "Did I?" A hint of amusement sparkled in her eyes. "Actually, I was looking for you. I wanted to apologize for being so rude earlier." That took him by surprise. "Oh, really? Well, I must admit I rather enjoyed having you falling over me like that. It's not every day that a beautiful woman throws herself into my arms. It certainly was a historical moment." "Hysterical is more like it," she commented. They laughed. "And isn't it amazing? I myself was coming back to see you. Maybe it's time I started believing in miracles again." It was her turn to be surprised. "You were?" "Yes." He paused. "How are you feeling?" She blinked at the abrupt change of subject. "Okay, I guess." Her head still hurt a little, but the dizziness and nausea seemed to have subsided. Removing her hand from him, she cautiously propped herself up. Yep, she definitely felt better. "Good. I just wanted to make sure you weren't about to slip into a coma before I gave you this." And as he spoke, he produced a small pouch and offered it to her. She was dumbstruck. A couple of seconds passed before she could bring herself to take the pouch from his proffered hand. Marcus watched her attentively as she examined it. The first thing that caught Ivanova's eye was the pouch's color- it was the deepest, most hypnotizing shade of blue she had ever seen, faintly reminiscent of an early evening sky. She felt a pang of nostalgia for Earth. Then there was the material from which it was made, a soft, glittering velvet. She ran her fingers over it, marveling at how smooth it felt to the touch. The string binding the pouch seemed to be made of the same velvety material, but of three different colors, a mixture of violet, purple and azure, with three shining silvery beads attached to each extremity. Yet that wasn't all; as she held it, she could feel that there was something inside the pouch. She looked at Marcus. His expression was cryptic. "Go ahead," he urged her. Her curiosity piqued, she pulled the string open, letting whatever was inside it fall neatly into the palm of her hand. It was a necklace, unlike any she had ever seen before. The chain was made of silver, and of a bluish metal she didn't recognize, elaborately woven together, creating a flowing, delicate pattern. The pendant, made of a clear, translucent blue stone, seemed to grow naturally out of the chain. It had a wavy shape, with streaming lines carved into it, giving off the impression of water that had somehow been petrified, yet still retaining a tortuous, surging quality that made it look as if about to move. The whole thing was so exquisitely beautiful that Ivanova almost believed she was still unconscious, dreaming. She looked at Marcus, her eyes wide with wonder. "Do you like it?" he asked expectantly. "Like it? My god, Marcus, it's... gorgeous! I love it!!" His smile was so huge that it threatened to rip his face in two. "I wanted to give you something special, but I didn't know what. I haven't had much experience with this sort of thing." A note of sadness crept into his voice. "Marcus, believe me, this is perfect. Thank you." Then she remembered something. "When you came to see me earlier... you intended to give me this." "Well... yes," he admitted. Now would be a good time to be obliterated by lightning. She waited, but nothing happened; god didn't seem to be in a merciful mood today. It was just her luck. "Bloody hell!" she muttered under her breath. He heard it. "That's usually my line; but you're welcome to use it." She continued cursing softly to herself, unable to look at him, ashamed. Marcus spoke again: "You were supposed to laugh at that; or cry, depending on how you feel about my jokes." She finally faced him. "How can you stand me? I have all the subtlety of an elephant and the tact of a monkey!" "Then I don't see a problem here." He was the picture of innocence. "I've always been very fond of animals." Ivanova stared at him, her mouth agape in mock outrage. "Has anyone ever told you that you have an incredibly sick, twisted sense of humor?" Marcus leaned closer to her, smiling mischievously. "You've just uncovered the secret of my charm," he declared, a wild twinkle in his eyes. And there it was again, that indefinable *something* that he had, melting away her resolve to be bitter and angry. she wondered for the umpteenth time. Since she'd met him, that had been a recurring question for her, one always left unanswered Yes, he was a pain in the butt-there were times when he would irritate the hell out of her, bring her to the brink of insanity... but then all he had to do was look at her in a certain way, or crack some preposterous joke with that accent of his... Nothing she could do about it... except smile. Brilliantly. Even if she still didn't understand how someone could be both so infuriating and so... endearing. An idea occurred to her then. "Marcus, could you wait outside for a moment?" she asked him as she got up from the bed. He followed her with his eyes, puzzled. "Outside?" "Mm-hm," she confirmed. "Don't worry, I'm not throwing you out. There's just something that I need to do," she explained rather vaguely. "Oh- yes- of course." He sounded unsure, but he got up anyway, even if a bit awkwardly. She walked him to the door. "This won't take long; I promise I'll let you back in right away, okay?" "All right. I'll just... count the dots on the ceiling while I'm waiting." He stepped outside. **************************************************************************** ******** Three hundred and sixty eight dots later Ivanova invited Marcus back into her quarters. He came in, furiously rubbing his eyes; but then he saw her and stopped dead in his tracks, as if he'd suddenly forgotten how to walk. Only a few minutes ago Ivanova had been wearing her uniform, as formal as ever, her hair pulled tightly back. Yet while Marcus had waited outside, she had transformed herself altogether- now clad in a low cut blue dress, she stood shyly in front of him, her hair falling down her shoulders in thick strands. She had also put on the necklace, and the clear blue of the pendant brought out her eyes, also making a fine contrast against the darker blue of the dress. "I thought it would be nice if we could try this again," she announced. "Yes, that's... very nice," Marcus blurted out, still stunned. "What I mean is, you look lovely. You *are* the most beautiful woman I've ever met." This time she took the compliment graciously. "Thank you." Her hand went to the necklace, and she traced it with her fingers. "But I just don't understand why you've given me this. I don't know if I deserve it; I haven't exactly been fair to you." "Perhaps not," he conceded. "But you're not as bad as you think, or I wouldn't be here otherwise." She tipped her head, silently acknowledging his chivalry. "So where did you find it?" she asked. "Surely not here on the station." "Oh no. I had it made especially for you, on Minbar. There's this artisan I met while I was staying there, an extremely talented fellow. I decided to contact him when I ran out of ideas for a gift for you. I just told him a little bit about you and asked him if he could create something that would suit you." "And you told him...?" "I told him that you reminded me of the sea: turbulent, beautiful, alluring, mysterious... that's you." Her cheeks were burning. "It must've cost you a fortune." "Not really. The Minbari are not a greedy people." "But why, Marcus? Why go to so much trouble for me?" She very much wanted to know. "Why not?" He let out a slightly exasperated breath. "Is it truly so difficult for you to accept the possibility that someone might... oh, I don't know... like you?" he asked, accentuating the last two words with a raised eyebrow and a roguish grin. "I know it is a somewhat appalling notion, but-" She interrupted him, smiling. "I'll try to be more open-minded in the future." "That's all I ask," he concluded, looking at her with mirth. "This is all very sweet of you. Thanks." Stepping closer to him, she took his hands in hers and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. As she did it, an electric current seemed to pass between them; his mind and heart were so open to her that before she even knew what was happening she had slipped into them. It was completely unintentional, and it lasted only the briefest of moments. But what she glimpsed in that fraction of time was more than enough. He was in love with her. Totally. Head over heels. With absolutely no chance of redemption. Ivanova couldn't move. She just stood there, still holding his hands, his face mere inches away from hers. She could feel his warm breath upon her, his thumbs moving almost imperceptibly over her fingers. All the signs had been there for her to see. How could she have been so blind? All the things that Marcus had ever said and done became suddenly so clear, so *obvious*. She knew that he wanted to kiss her, knew that all it would take for it to happen was for one of them to make the slightest turn, and their lips would meet. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to feel his arms around her, to let down her guard and just... surrender. There was a part of her that wanted that so much; and yet there was also the part of her that was afraid. Marcus made the decision for her: swallowing hard, he took one step back, putting some distance between them. Relief and disappointment mingled inside her, and she let go of his hands. He gazed deeply at her, his eyes bright with emotion. Did he know she'd read him? She couldn't be sure. "I shouldn't have kept you for so long," he whispered in a hoarse voice, breaking the silence. "I don't want you to miss the party." "I'm not going," she whispered back, a little too quickly. "I guess I'm just not in the right mood anymore." "Oh well, that's me. I seem to have a natural talent at spoiling people's moods." He tried to be playful, but it came out sounding flat. "Come to think of it, there are a lot of things I've ruined in my life. Maybe I should get used to it." What the hell was he talking about? "I'm sorry, did I miss something here?" "I don't think so, Susan." Queer, the way he said it. Did he know? It was certainly starting to look that way. "Marcus... don't blame yourself. You didn't ruin anything." "I wanted this to go right, you know." There it was, the answer to her question: he knew. Not only that, he was hurt, too. And *she* had done it to him. Again. "God, I can't believe how stupid I am!" Her voice caught in her throat. "I'm always so wrapped up inside my own arrogance, looking down at people, always putting myself apart from everyone and lashing out for fear of being hurt that I don't see what's going on around me until it's too late!" Tears sprang to her eyes, but she held them back. "All I ever do is cause you pain, Marcus. I'm just not worth the effort." That got through to him. Realizing they were both wallowing in self pity, he closed the distance between them. "If you don't mind, I'll be the judge of that." His face filled her vision. "I've lost too many people already, and I don't intend to lose you as well. Not after everything we've been through together." "Then don't," she whispered, surprising herself. And if it was at all possible, he was suddenly even closer to her, his arms tenderly circling her waist. She closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder, letting her coolness dissipate along with all the tension. Relaxing against him, she drew comfort from his presence, and he tightened his embrace. Ivanova didn't object. Stroking her hair, Marcus spoke: "Having a conversation with you is like agreeing to participate in a fencing match while wearing a blindfold; it can be a bit disorienting, not to mention extremely hazardous. Oh, and rash, too. But in an odd sort of way it's also very... exhilarating." She raised her head and faced him, chuckling softly. "And being with you in the same room is like riding a roller coaster pulled off-track. You never know when you're going to fall off your seat." The banter was officially resumed. "We're pretty good at this, aren't we?" "The best," she replied. His whole demeanor was so captivating that it made her heart flutter. "But we're both too stubborn, too temperamental. That's bound to be an explosive combination." "If that's the case, then maybe we should learn how to kindle each other in the right way. Fire is not necessarily a bad thing." He was being positively naughty. She looked at him suspiciously, and he gave her a wicked smile. "I've been thinking about this a great deal," he confessed. "But the truth of the matter is that I always come to *one* inescapable conclusion." A dramatic pause, then: "We would make a very cute couple." Shaking her head, Ivanova gave him a lingering look, an impish expression on her face. "What?" he asked, trying to sound bemused. "You're incorrigible, that's what." "Yes I am." He flashed her a silly smile. "And I'm also irresistible." She smirked. "You're losing touch with reality, Marcus." He turned serious all of a sudden. "A man is allowed to dream, even if just for a little while." His lips touched her forehead in a feathery kiss, tingling her skin. "Hard to believe I was ready to die only two days ago. Now all I want to do is live, and maybe dream some more." Her pulse was racing, and she strained to find her voice. "I hate to sound pessimistic, but things won't stay as they are right now. We may still be called upon to die before the end." "Could be. And if that happens, I hope I can be there, standing by your side until the very last moment." His eyes were gleaming. "Just as I intended to when I came over to your White Star." "*My* White Star? You mean-? In the final battle- you- came there- because of me? To die? With me??" she stammered, perplexed. "If necessary," he curtly answered. "Why?" He hesitated for a moment before speaking. "People have this nasty habit of dying on me; people I care about. Only that I'm never there to help when it happens. I wanted to change that," he explained. "I don't think I would've been able to forgive myself if something had happened to you without me being there. And, I wanted your face to be the last thing I would ever see. As far as I'm concerned, that would've been the best way to go." END OF PART ONE *************** From: creative-archive@anxst.com Subject: NEW: "Just one more wonderful surprise" 2/2 by Marcia Elena Date: Mon, 27 Oct 1997 08:14:04 -0800 (PST) [FOR DISCLAIMERS SEE PART ONE] Just one more wonderful surprise - 2/2 -------------------------------------- by Marcia Elena As Ivanova listened, she became intensely aware of Marcus, of how hard he was trying to make her understand him, and not only with his words. Everything in him was struggling to reach her, asking her to tear down her walls and let him in. His eyes were locked on hers, and she found that she just couldn't look away. His hands were on her back, keeping her close to him. Her own hands lay upon his chest, like a barrier, preventing her from getting any closer, bringing her at least some sense of control. She knew that she wasn't thinking straight, and it frightened her; she had never thought it possible for Marcus to affect her in this way. Yet here she was, affected as hell. It baffled her. Marcus apparently wasn't ready to let that stand in the way of things. "I love you, Susan," he said, his voice husky. "And if you won't let me kiss you *now*, I will probably suffer a nervous breakdown." In that instant she knew she'd lost the battle. Something gave way inside her, and a weakness swelled deep in her belly, spreading through her body; giddiness swept over her. she thought. She should say something, but she couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Tilting his head, he kissed the corner of her mouth, once, twice. Her eyes closed, and he brushed his lips over hers, slowly, tentatively. She was trembling now. Opening her eyes, she slid her hands around his neck. "Marcus..." she breathed. The sheer nearness of him made her feel incandescent. "Come here," he murmured. She complied. Pressing her body against his, she closed her eyes again as his mouth covered hers, finally. He hugged her tenderly to him, and she threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him deeper into their kiss. As if on cue, a chirping sound intruded upon them. her mind quipped. Groaning inwardly, she parted her lips from his. "I have to answer that." "Answer what?" His smile was peevish. "I can't hear a thing." "Marcus, it's my link. It could be something important." She was still in his arms, and it wasn't easy to focus her thoughts. "Something urgent." He looked at her meaningfully. "More urgent than this?" She broke away from his embrace, gently but firmly. "Marcus..." she warned him in a no-nonsense tone. The link was chirping again, and she picked it up from the coffee table, activating it. "Ivanova here." "Just give me one good reason why you haven't graced us with your presence yet," said a familiar voice. "And hello to you, too, Stephen," Ivanova retorted. "I'm glad you still remember us mortals." There was a smile in his voice. "So, what's keeping you? You're missing one hell of a party!" Before she could answer, Marcus came up from behind her and touched her lightly on the shoulders. "Don't go," he said quietly. "What?" Franklin asked. "I didn't catch that." Momentarily neglecting her link, Ivanova turned and faced Marcus. "Don't go," he whispered a second time, piercing her with a longing look. A multitude of doubts rose up within her, then. she wondered. She had wanted to; she *still* wanted to. It was disconcerting, to say the least. "Ivanova..." Franklin was calling in the background, getting more and more insistent. "Susan! Can you hear me?" She paid little attention to it; lost in thought, she just kept looking at Marcus, struggling to make sense of the entire situation, while he stared back at her. Waiting. "Are you there?" Franklin was asking again, frantic now. "Answer me, dammit!!" A new voice came over the link: Garibaldi's. "Commander, either you answer me now, or I'm sending my whole security team to check on you." Ivanova didn't need any more persuasion than that. "No, Michael, I'm fine. There's no need for you to send anyone." "Susan!!" Garibaldi sounded angry. "What the hell are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?" "I'm just in the middle of something here, that's all," she explained. "Bad timing." "Then why didn't you say so in the first place? You know we would never *dream* of causing an inconvenience. Now, tell us all about it." "Don't push it, Garibaldi," she checkered him. "Hey, commander," Franklin manifested his presence again, "are you sure you're all right?" "Yes, doctor, I'm fine." She was getting tired of this. "Well, good. Then I'll tell you what: I expect you to drag your butt here, immediately. Just so that I can be sure as well. After all, I'm still your doctor; I worry. You know how it is." "Sorry Stephen, but I'll have to decline." "But I-" Ivanova cut him off. "I said I'm not coming, and that's final. But if that's not clear enough for you, then let me make it clearer: right now your head is still attached to your neck, and I think it would be in your best interest to keep it that way." She paused briefly for effect, then continued in the sweetest tone possible: "Oh. And feel free to drop by. *Tomorrow*; tonight I am very busy." And with that, she unceremoniously put an end to the conversation. "Not one to mince words, are you?" Marcus commented. She wouldn't rise to the bait this time. "We have to talk," she declared without much preamble. He smiled wryly. "See what I mean?" Ivanova sighed; her thoughts were a jumble, and Marcus' smart-ass attitude wasn't helping. "Look, I'll be honest with you. I'm not exactly sure about what's happened between us tonight." He sobered up instantly. "Not sure? Susan... I don't expect you to fall in love with me in twenty seconds, but... you can't tell me that you didn't feel anything! I won't believe that! Because I saw it in your eyes, I... felt it when we kissed." "But that's just it!" she passionately exclaimed. "I did feel something, and I don't know what it was!" Her voice dropped. "I *hate* not knowing." "Was it that bad?" he asked, apprehensive. "No. It wasn't bad at all. It was..." she didn't want to expose herself so much, but the openness and vulnerability of his gaze was such that she couldn't keep herself from saying it. "It was wonderful." A strangled, rueful chuckle burst out of him. "I don't understand you, Susan! Is it so much better to live your life like this, always alone and aloof, trying to show everyone how tough you are? Do you enjoy keeping everything bottled up inside?" His words struck a chord in her, but she didn't know if she was ready to talk so openly about herself yet. "I'm sorry." Her voice cracked, and she looked at him solemnly. "I didn't intend for any of this to happen." "Well I did. And I hope you won't dismiss it so easily." "Marcus, please! I'm not dismissing anything! But I just... I have to sort out my feelings first. I *know* what you want from me, and I don't know if I can give it to you. It wouldn't be hard to damn everything and just... be with you. But if I do that, I'll probably end up hurting you, belittling what you feel. Believe me, that's the most cruel thing you can do to someone." She drew a deep, shaky breath. "I don't want to damage the trust you have in me." After a short silence, he spoke, his voice hushed. "I'll wait, then. Just don't shut me out." She smiled feebly, then nodded. Marcus brightened up visibly. "Dinner, then? I'll cook." "Wait a minute here, slow down. You can cook? I'm impressed!" "Why, thank you. I *am* a man of many hidden talents, you know...Ranger, cook, poet, singer... although I suspect that if you'd ever hear me sing you'd run away immediately afterwards never to be seen again." He was grinning broadly. Ivanova returned his smile. "Well, don't worry. I'm sure you'll find a victim soon enough." **************************************************************************** ******** As Marcus sliced and chopped, Ivanova did have the opportunity to appreciate a sample of his singing talent. It was truly awe inspiring. On the other hand, his culinary skills seemed another thing entirely: in just a little under five minutes he had everything cooking and steaming. "You're quick," she said to him as he came to sit down beside her on the couch. "So are you gonna tell me what it is?" "No. It's a surprise." "Oh, another one." She didn't sound very thrilled. "But, what's one more surprise on a day such as this one." She glanced surreptitiously at the digital clock on the far wall. "Good idea about dinner, though. I'm starving!" Marcus' unruly smile was very compelling. "Glad I could help." And all of a sudden Ivanova found herself studying him closely, how his lips moved as he talked to her, how his hand brushed her shoulder in an unconscious gesture... and those eyes... When she realized what she was doing she gave a slight start. "Susan, is anything the matter?" "No!" she readily protested. He eyed her with concern. "You seem a little... agitated. Distracted." She was aching for his touch, and having him sit so close to her wasn't making it any easier. She still couldn't believe that she was attracted to him, yet she also couldn't deny it. He had awoken something in her, making her feel alive in a strange, frightening way. She wanted to feel like that again; she *needed* to feel like that again. But she had rationalized everything so much that now she couldn't simply disregard her own reasoning and give in to instinct. Could she? "Does your head still hurt? I should have insisted on taking you to Medlab." "It's not my head! It's... something else." "Well, tell me." His voice was so warm. "Perhaps I can kiss it better." "Ah hell!" The words thundered out of her like a battle cry, a challenge to the universe itself. She had to rise above temptation. She had to get a grip. She had to- She had to kiss him. So she did. One moment Ivanova was sitting beside him, all prim and proper, and then, in a flash, she was pushing him down into the cushions, kissing him in a very demanding way. Marcus was completely bewildered. "I thought you were hungry," was all he managed to come up with, gasping for air. "I am," she bluntly confirmed. "Susan!" Incredulity made him balk. "Weren't you going to think about this first?" "Marcus..." she whispered softly, "shut up." Giving him her most seducing look, she added: "The last thing I want to do right now is think." And as if to prove her point, she began to cover his face with little kisses. His resistance was crumbling fast, but he had to keep trying. "If you think this is going to work-" her lips met his, briefly "-I must say-" she kissed him again, longer this time, and he kissed her back, "-it just did." He barely had time to finish the sentence, and her mouth was on his again. The kiss that followed was very long and very sensual, and they gave in to it with total abandon. Lost in a wild embrace, they were conscious of nothing else except each other... until the door chimed. They both seemed to jump five feet into the air, like children suddenly caught doing something they know they shouldn't; Marcus rolled off the couch and landed on the floor with a loud thump. "Oh, bugger!" Ivanova exploded. With a furious growl, she leapt to her feet and started to make her way towards the door, but Marcus caught up with her before she could reach it. He stood facing her, effectively blocking her path. "Get out of my way!" she ordered. "Not unless you calm down." His voice was very even. "Calm down?" she seethed, "Calm down? Don't you see what's happening here? The concept of privacy doesn't seem to mean anything to anyone anymore! I can't go five lousy minutes without someone barging in at the most... critical moment." "But you don't even know who's out there, or why! Do you really want to open this door with the words 'bloody murder' written all over your face?" "Yes!" she vented, then: "No." For a second or two her anger seemed to simmer down, but then she erupted again. "It's all *his* fault!" "Who?" "Murphy!" she shouted. "But I'm gonna find him! I'm going to pluck his eyes out with a spoon and feed them to him!" she was raving. "I'll boil him alive and then carve his bones into little animals and sell them to tourists in the Zocalo! He'll be sorry for ever daring to mess up with me, I swear!!" "You have such a vivid imagination," Marcus said with a tinge of admiration. "But you're not making any sense." Her rage was spent. "I know." She smoothed down her dress and her hair, drawing a long, deep breath. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have an uninvited guest waiting." She opened the door to find... absolutely no one. "Whoever it was, you probably scared him off." Marcus sounded amused. Ivanova slumped against the nearest wall, allowing the door to close again. Looking around, she noticed for the first time that there were cushions strewn across the floor, and a few other things as well: Marcus' cloak, his fighting pike... and her shoes. A look of pure horror crossed her face. She shifted her attention to Marcus; he was checking their dinner, unaware of her scrutiny. Her eyes widened when she saw how disheveled he looked. There had to be something seriously wrong with her; or maybe not. Contrary to popular belief, she *was* a human being, with weaknesses of her own. After having felt the intensity of Marcus' feelings for her, it was very hard to remain indifferent. A warm, sweet glow enveloped her as she remembered how they'd- Marcus chose that exact moment to look at her and smile, making the temperature inside her rise to a fever. The thought was too absurd to contemplate right now. Closing her eyes, she banged her head against the wall again and again, thinking Maybe this was all a nightmare. Yes, yes, a bad dream, and she would soon wake up. All she had to do was break through to the surface... "Susan?" "Aaah!!" she screamed. She opened her eyes and saw that everything still looked the same, only that Marcus was now standing right in front of her. So this was reality after all. "That's it!" she snapped. "I have had enough surprises for one day!" Marcus rewarded her with a quizzical look. "Does that mean you're not hungry anymore?" It was plain by the tone of his voice that he wasn't talking about dinner. Ivanova buried her face in her hands, mortified. She knew she'd made a complete joke of herself, and that in itself was bad enough. But to have Marcus stand there and... and *listen* to him as he gleefully rubbed it in. And it was then that she realized that he wasn't saying anything. He was quiet; *too* quiet. Peering at him from between her fingers, she saw that Marcus seemed as if about to choke, obviously fighting to keep himself from guffawing. Stiffening, she let her hands drop, fists clenched. "You're teasing me!" "Of course I am!" he admitted without shame. "You were begging for it!" "I was *what*? But before she could implement any of her painful ideas, Marcus deftly changed his approach. "Susan, as I've said before, I'm willing to wait for you. And I can assure you, your reputation is quite safe with me; I promise I won't breathe a word to anyone." Ivanova sighed, deeply relieved; Marcus was being so considerate. And then he added, almost as an afterthought: "On the other hand, I would be most delighted to pick up where we left, preferably sometime soon. Very, very soon." He sounded hopeful. "Now, perhaps?" And he winked at her. She shaped her thoughts into an evil grin. "Okay," she said, demure in the extreme. "Strip down. Everything. And then... take me." Beads of sweat instantly formed on his brow, and she took great pleasure in watching him squirm for a change, even if it was only during those few milliseconds before understanding dawned on him. A smile tugged at his lips. "Touche," he declared. Irrationally, joy bubbled inside her, threatening to spill over. It felt good. Unexpected? Maybe. But not awkward anymore. She looked at him. He looked at her. And in unspoken agreement, they both let hilarity take over, bursting out in uncontrollable laughter. Ivanova, blinded by tears, was the first to reach the floor, and Marcus soon joined her, clutching his sides. Huge roaring fits shook them repeatedly until they could hardly breathe, but the moments of relative calm that invariably followed were short lived. They laughed together for a very long time. **************************************************************************** ****** Meanwhile The celebrations that were sweeping through the station were nothing compared to what was going on at Earhart. The place was packed; it seemed that everyone not currently on duty was there, dancing, talking, drinking, laughing. The fighter pilots and station officers, more than anyone, knew how brief this respite from war would be, and so they threw themselves into the party with an almost desperate zeal. The mood of unbridled happiness was wildly contagious, quickly spreading to everyone present. Everyone, that is, except for a small group of people seated around a corner table: Lieutenant David Corwin, Chief Medical Officer Stephen Franklin, Chief of Security Michael Garibaldi and his second in command, Zack Allan. The reason for their lack of enthusiasm was the rather brusque and impersonal sound of a shutting link, which could clearly be heard over the din. The four men stared at each other with decidedly puzzled expressions. Zack was the first to recover. "Whoa!" he exclaimed. "What was *that* all about?" "Beats me," answered a still stunned Franklin. "Well boys," Garibaldi began, "I may be wrong, but my guess is that Stephen here got her pretty mad." "Me??" Franklin sounded outraged. "All I wanted was to make sure she was all right! I mean, it's not like her to pass up on a party, and especially not after having promised she'd be here!" No one backed him up, and he grew even more agitated. "Aw, c'mon! She wasn't acting like herse lf, and you know it." "Yeah, maybe," Zack reluctantly agreed. "But then again, the commander has been known for her somewhat, er... *eccentric behaviour*" Corwin snorted, obviously amused. "Tell me about it." But Garibaldi seemed to have a different opinion. "As always, none of you have been paying attention." "What are you talking about?" asked Franklin. "Hey, I'm not Chief of Security for nothing! See, it's all in the details; you gotta pay attention to the details!" Franklin's patience had just reached bottom. "Will somebody *please* tell me what the hell is he talking about?" "Chief, you know something you're not telling?" This from Zack. All eyes fell upon Garibaldi, who, instead of answering, began to intently study his nails. "What?" demanded Franklin. He just wasn't in the mood for suspense. Garibaldi looked at the doctor with something akin to pity, heaving a tolerant sigh. Then he leaned heavily on the table, forcing the others to follow suit. "All right, I'll tell you," he whispered in a conspiratorial tone. "The reason why Susan's not here is... she's with a man." Franklin wasn't buying it. "And you just happen to know who that man is." Garibaldi sighed again. "Details, details," he impatiently repeated. "What did I tell you about details? Look around you; don't you see who else is missing?" Three pairs of eyes scanned the room for a minute or so, then turned back to the waiting Chief. "I don't think anyone's missing," Corwin volunteered. Zack and Franklin had nothing to add. Disappointment tinged Garibaldi's voice. "Isn't it obvious? It's Marcus!" "Hah!" Franklin chortled, triumphant. "Ivanova and Marcus? She can't stand the sight of him! I'm sorry to say this, but I think that this station has finally gotten to you; you're nuts!" "You wanna bet on that?" Garibaldi asked, not fazed in the least. "Thirty credits that say I'm right." "Forty, and you have a deal!" the doctor challenged. "Deal!" Garibaldi accepted. "Oh, and by the way, I forgot to mention this before, but when you were talking to Susan just now, I sort of... happened to make out Marcus' voice in the background. Mind you, it wasn't easy; hell, I couldn't even understand what he was saying, but I'm certain I recognized his voice. I have excellent hearing," he boasted. "You just *love* to brag about yourself, don't you?" Franklin's voice dripped sarcasm. "Can't a guy be proud of his talents? I'm only stating the facts; you can hardly blame me for being so damn good at what I do! Like I told you, I'm not-" "Chief of Security for nothing," Franklin recited. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever." He waved his hand dismissively, clearly chafed. "Boy, this is getting better by the minute," Zack whispered to Corwin, highly amused. The Lieutenant, on his part, simply nodded, too fascinated by the whole exchange to talk, and Zack turned his attention back to the discussion. "Look," Franklin was saying, "not to say that I don't trust your incredible powers of deduction, but how exactly do you propose we confirm this wacky theory of yours? Because I'm certainly not going to call her again and ask her!" "No need. We'll send David here." Corwin nearly dropped the drink he was nursing. "Oh no, no way," he vehemently protested. "Forget about it." Garibaldi set his gaze on Zack. "Sorry, Chief, but I'm not getting involved in this. I don't think it's a good idea to be messing around with Ivanova." "So let me get this straight," Garibaldi addressed his companions, looking each of them in the eye. "None of you wants to pay a quick, harmless visit to the Commander?" They all vigorously shook their heads. "And yet you're all sticking around to see how this thing unfolds. No objections. Isn't that right?" "Basically, yeah," Zack answered with a crooked grin. "I'm touched," Garibaldi declared, feigning emotion. "Truly I am. It's always so thrilling to see such an evident display of all that is honest and good in human nature." A thoughtful look came over his features then, and he drummed his fingers on the table to some secret, inner rhythm. Abruptly, he stopped, turning to Franklin. "Okay, how about this: I'll send one of my people to check on Susan, and ask him to report back to us here as soon as he's finished." "It sounds fair enough," Franklin shrugged. "But that's assuming you can find someone stupid enough to agree." He smiled smugly. "Geez, what is it with you?" Garibaldi asked disdainfully. "You make it sound as if Ivanova were this... ruthless tyrant." Zack and Corwin traded knowing looks, and Franklin raised a self-explanatory eyebrow. Garibaldi remained impassive. "Anyway, I *do* have someone perfect for the job." "Stupid?" Corwin wanted to know. "New guy," Garibaldi provided. "Got here a week ago, so I figure he's not yet up to date with the local folklore. Don't know about stupid, though; it seems like too strong a word." A pause. Then: "Stupid," they all agreed in unison. "Well," Garibaldi sighed, "since we seem to have settled that85" He trailed off, already searching for their intended envoy, and got up when he spotted him. "Be right back." The three men at the table watched as Garibaldi cut a path through the crowd, making his way towards the entrance, where two security guards stood talking, drinks in hand. The Chief stopped when he reached them, beckoning to the youngest of the two; he didn't appear to be more than eighteen. A couple of minutes later the guard left, and Garibaldi returned to the table, smiling. "Piece of cake," he commented as he sat down. "He's a good kid; didn't even question my reasons." "I just hope you know what you're doing," Franklin said. "Ivanova doesn't exactly react kindly to any intrusions into her personal life." "Oh, but you know how she is," Garibaldi tried to appease him. "She likes to think she's fooling us with that 'high and mighty' act of hers, but deep down she's just as soft as we are." "She's sure as hell fooled me!" Corwin mumbled. "If you're so convinced it's an act, then why didn't you go?" Fra nklin looked at Garibaldi askance. "Well, for starters, I didn't think you'd take my word for it if I'd come back confirming Marcus' presence there," Garibaldi replied disarmingly. "And of course, there's always the possibility that it's *not* an act, and you have to agree that a headless Head of Security wouldn't help much in keeping a positive image of the station, now, would it?" "You know, you amaze me," Franklin sneered. "Here I was, all this time thinking that you were doing this for purely selfish reasons, when in reality your only concern was for how badly your grisly and untimely demise would reflect upon the rest of us." "I live only to serve," Garibaldi deadpanned. This kind of talk went on for some time; at first it was entertaining, then irritating, until finally it became immensely boring. Looking at Corwin, Zack saw that the poor Lieutenant was about to fall asleep, and so he decided to steer the conversation back into more interesting territory. "Hey, Chief, you really think Ivanova's with Marcus?" "I don't think, Zack, I know." Corwin was fully alert again. "I'll have to remember to tell the commander that her rightful claims of omniscience are being threatened," he said. "Give me a break!" Garibaldi grimaced, suddenly vexed. "Ivanova doesn't *know* everything! Sure, she's observant and well-informed, but she's not god!!" Just then, the young security-guard-turned-spy arrived at their table, visibly shaken. Garibaldi helped him to a chair. "What happened?" The guard looked at him with glazed eyes, his face ghostly pale. "Sh-she... she wa-" His lips trembled, and he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to continue. Terrified. A chill descended upon all of them. "Look," Franklin tried to soothe him, "it's all right. Whatever scared you, it's over now. You're safe." "No!" the guard cried out, "You don't understand! She knew it was me! She knew, and now she's going to find me!" "Wait, what do you mean? Who's 'she'?" Garibaldi asked, at a loss. "The Commander! I went to her quarters as you asked, sir, but as soon as I sounded the chime she went crazy! She started to shout threats at me, and..." He swallowed, then shook his head. "People warned me about her, but I thought they were just joking around. How could I be so stupid?" The four officers looked at each other, then guiltily lowered their eyes. The chill they felt only deepened. Garibaldi put a hand on the guard's shoulder. "There's gotta be some reasonable explanation for this. Was there anyone else with her?" he asked, still curious in spite of everything. "Are you sure she was shouting at you? She doesn't even know you!" "Positive! But I'm sorry, sir; I don't know who else was there. She was so mad that I didn't wait for her to open the door, I just split!" Now Garibaldi was truly mystified. "You mean to say she never even opened the door?" The guard nodded. "Well, then that explains it! She was probably having an argument with Marcus!" Garibaldi declared with satisfaction. "*If* it was Marcus," Franklin reminded him. "And that's a big 'if '. You still haven't proven any-" "Sir!" the guard interrupted. "She was shouting at *me*! She knew it was me, even with the door closed! I never even saw her, but somehow, she saw *me*! She *knew*!! She shouted my *name*!!!" "What??" Garibaldi asked, alarmed. "How is that possible, Murphy?" Beyond hearing, beyond comfort, Murphy sobbed, appearing even younger than before. "Oh, GOD!!!!!!!!!" And that single word almost caused four grown men to faint. *THE END* **************************************************************************** ****** Ivanova: "I don't remember authorizing a change in discussion to include m y personal life." Marcus: "I have to be authorized to talk to you like a person? Just what is it you're running from?" Ivanova: "Don't you have anything to do?" Marcus: "No. I'm all yours." "Voices of authority" - Season Three