From r.owen@student.anu.edu.au Fri Jan 10 11:03:08 1997 Date: Fri, 3 Jan 1997 11:44:48 +1000 From: Ruth Owen To: Alexei Kosut Subject: The Man in Between (1/3) The Man in Between ================== This story was written between the airing of Shadow Dancing and Z'ha'dum in the UK and is my take on what would possibly happen in the final episode of Season 3. My thanks to Inga for beta reading this in record time, and helping to make it fit together with Shadow Dancing. Much appreciated. ################################## The Man in Between ================= by Ruth Owen (r.owen@student.anu.edu.au) Part 1 ------- The arrival bays were mostly empty this late in the shift, and it was all Joe could do to keep himself awake as he logged visitors into the station through his security comp. There was the odd personal shuttle, or cargo drone coming in, but nothing really big until the morning shuttle from Minbar which wasn't due for another five hours. He didn't mind logging the Minbari passengers, unlike some of the other security personnel- their shuttles were usually on schedule and they didn't complain, or blame him for the import duties, or the delays in processing, or the many other things that some races seemed to think he was solely responsible for . Oh, you had the odd member of their Warrior Caste who definitely didn't like humans and let you know it, but hey: live and let live. Footsteps echoes through the bay and Joe frowned: according to his list, no one was due at the moment. A petite woman emerged from the shadows, handing him her identicard. "Welcome to Babylon 5, Ma'am," he said, pushing the card into his logger. The computer checked her name against its central data base for matches against known criminals or fugitives. The woman shook blond streaked hair back from her face, but didn't respond. 'Anna Sheridan,' the card identified her as. Joe's eyes widened. Anna Sheridan? A relative of the Captain's perhaps? He handed the card back smartly, and watched her slim figure as she disappeared around a corner. Weird. Zach perused the manifest of arrivals on station for the last hour. After all, there wasn't exactly anything else to do at the moment. The station was quiet tonight - no fights or disturbances had been logged throughout the shift. Too quiet, as Garibaldi would say. He propped his feet up on the bench, leaning back with his hands behind his head as he scanned the list. He didn't mind this shift normally, there was always something going on. But today, with the big battle that had been fought, none of the usual inter- species frictions seemed to be causing problems. Amaz... He paused mid-thought, a name on the list catching his eye. Anna Sheridan. He frowned, swinging his legs down from the bench as he called up the Bio that had been logged from her identicard when she boarded. The Captain's wife? But... He hit the comm unit. "Commander Ivanova." There was no reply, so he used his security clearance to increase the volume of the alert in her quarters. "Commander Ivanova." Ivanova considered just burying her head beneath the pillow, but decided against it as the alert was repeated significantly louder. "Give me a break," she protested, then ordered an audio- only channel. "Yes." "Uhh... someone has just come onto the station..." It was Zach Allen, sounding nervous. "Zach, *fifty* ships a day dock here..." Now that she was more awake she was even more irritable. "This is major," Zach interrupted her mumble. "This concerns the Captain. An Anna Sheridan was logged through the arrival bay ten minutes ago." "Anna..." Ivanova's eyes widened, "As in his wife who died four years ago?" "Yup." "The one who's ship was exploring..." Exploring the home planet of the Shadows. Oh shit. "Oh shit! Oh shit!!" She grabbed her link and PPG, stuffing her feet into the first pair of shoes that came to hand. "Get Garibaldi and a security team to the Captain's quarters. Now!!" Without bothering to cut the connection, she raced from her quarters. ################## Earlier in the Evening: They sat at next to one another on the couch - he reviewing the reports of damage to the Army of Light's fleet; she checking over financial forecasts for the station for the coming months. Too much to do, Sheridan thought, absently running his hand over his chin and the rough five o'clock shadow. He frowned, noting the time: make that eleven o'clock shadow. If Earthforce could see him now... He didn't remember having this much to do during the Earth/Minbari war. Of course, it simply could have been that he hadn't had time to think at all during that war, and so had not considered how busy he really was. Or how exhausted. He surreptitiously glanced at the woman sitting beside him. Delenn. She seemed to be the only bright spot in his life these days, and he was grateful for her presence. God, how he was grateful. He watched as she absently twisted a strand of hair around her finger, her face reflecting intense concentration as she marked sections of the report for him to review later. What would he do without her? It was the first night of her Minbari 'watching' ceremony, and here she was, helping him with his paperwork. "Would you like a drink, or something to eat?" he asked, breaking the silence. His voiced sounded rough to his ears and he wondered if it had really been that long since he'd last spoken, or whether it was just a case of fatigue. Or nerves. Or both, John, he thought. Admit it: you're damn nervous. "Some water, perhaps?" Delenn looked up with a smile that warmed his heart, and he found himself automatically mirroring that smile. "One does not eat during the watching period in order not to taint the ceremony. To remain pure." "*You* don't eat? Or we *both* don't eat?" Sheridan asked as he moved to his small refrigeration unit. He poured iced water into tumblers, handing her one with a flourish. He still felt uncomfortable when he remembered the ritual dinner she'd invited him to - he had never felt as gauche and naive in his life as he had that evening, and he was determined not to do anything wrong this time. "It is tradition that neither the male nor the female eats for the three days, except to take bread and water," Delenn clarified, sipping her water then placing the chilled glass on the table before her. "But you are working too hard, John, and it would not be sensible for you to neglect eating, so I will maintain the fast alone." "Delenn, you're working just as hard as I am," John said, gesturing for proof at the paperwork strewn about his private quarters. His gaze caught and held hers. "I want to... honor the customs of your people, Delenn. " Honor *you*, his mind added, but he did not say that aloud. "Besides," he grinned boyishly, "half the time I'm forgetting to eat, anyway, so you don't have to worry on that account." He sat down again, his leg brushing against hers. A warm hand tentatively touched then clasped his hand. He raised his eyes to hers and smiled, squeezing her hand gently in return. "Maybe we should have our meals together in that case," she suggested earnestly. "You cannot afford to neglect your health, John, especially at this time." "Are you trying to mother me, Delenn?" he asked, stroking the soft skin of her hand. "No, I am not 'mothering' you, but I am concerned." She reached up and caressed the side of his face, lightly touching his lips. "I care about you." The look that passed between them seemed to last a lifetime. "Thank you," he whispered, his hand encompassing hers and holding it against his lips for a heartbeat, before gently placing it back in her lap. Work first, John. Then perhaps... Resolutely he turned back to his facts and figures. For every ship they'd taken out, they'd lost two of their own. It had been a costly victory indeed. And as Garibaldi had said earlier: the big question was when were the Shadows going to come and knock on the front door of the Babylon 5 itself. The next time he looked up, the minute hand on his wall clock had performed a complete revolution, and his eyes felt as if they were full of grit. It had been a very long day. Sighing, he laid the flimsies aside, and turned his attention to Delenn. He had to smile - he couldn't help himself. She looked so studious, curled up on his couch reading a report while nibbling on a curl of her hair. He leaned closer, draping his arm across the back of the sofa behind her and gently removed the lock from between her fingers. "You'll get split ends if you keep doing that," he said quietly, his face inches from hers. "Split ends?" she repeated, her breath brushing softly against his cheek. The paperwork dropped into her lap, momentarily forgotten. John used the curl in his fingers to trace the edge of her jaw, then down her neck before he released it. She shivered at the touch, and instinctively leaned closer to him. "The end of the hair... actually splits... and you have to... cut..." He lost his train of thought, too aware of the caress of her green eyes on his face to concentrate on what he was saying. "You have to cut?" she prompted gently, rubbing the palm of her hand against the grain of the stubble on his jaw. Rational thought went for a spacewalk at that point, and John bridged the last distance between them, capturing her lips with his. So soft. His tongue traced her lips and he relished her shiver at the sensation. She tangled her hands in his hair to draw him still closer. Sensual pleasure pervaded his body and his tongue parted her lips to explore the sweetness of her mouth. Her moan was almost inaudible, but served to remind him they were skating on thin ice. He pulled his mouth from hers, kissing his way down the her neck, before burying his face in her hair at the crook of her shoulder. Her scent - warm, female, uniquely her - tugged at his consciousness, and he inhaled deeply. Beneath his hands he could feel her increased respiration and heartbeat. Thin ice, indeed. "Uhh, Delenn... As much as I'm enjoying this... we'd better stop at this point." His voice was ragged, and he left his head against her for a long moment before pulling away. Her smile was accepting. "I understand," Delenn whispered, her hand caressing his face gently. John captured the hand, pressing his lips against the palm tenderly. "So what exactly do we do, tonight?" he asked, brushing her fingers across his lips, then kissing them. "You sleep, I watch." Her lips grazed lightly across the stubble on his cheek, then moved to bestow a delicate kiss on his neck just below his ear. She was rewarded by his sharp intake of breath. "Uhh... Delenn." She nestled into his embrace, and he could feel her smile even though he couldn't see it. "I'm sorry," she whispered contritely, her fingers tracing abstract designs on the fabric of his uniform covering his chest. "No, it's okay," Sheridan reassured her, stilling the movement of her hand with one of his. "But it's just... not a good idea if you want me to get any sleep whatsoever tonight." She laughed throatily at this admission. "Then I must stop, mustn't I?" John nuzzled the top of her head, burying his face in the sweet smelling hair and closing his eyes. "Mmmm... Yeah... I guess so." They remained entwined on the couch for several long minutes, enjoying the rare moment of peace and closeness. "I guess I'd better get ready for bed, then," John said, dragging himself reluctantly to his feet. A thought stuck him and he froze. "Is there anything we have to do... prayers, meditations...." He was *not* going to mess this up. "Minbari usually meditate on the events of the day before they sleep," Delenn told him. "We clear our minds to promote a more restful repose." "Now? Or after I change into my pajamas?" "Pajamas?" Delenn repeated. "Night attire - for sleeping in," Sheridan elaborated. "After," Delenn replied, then looked down at her own robe. "I would also like to, I believe the phrase is: 'slip into something a little more comfortable.'" "Uhh..." John cleared his throat, covering a smile. There were connotations to that statement that she probably didn't know about and he decided now would probably not be the best time to bring up some of the little quirks of human language. "Sure. I'll just be a few minutes." John returned from the bathroom, wearing a robe over his pajama bottoms. He'd debated about wearing the top, in case there were taboos in Minbari culture against partial nudity, but in the end decided to dress as he would if he were alone. After all, she was here to see his 'true face.' And if she saw a bit more than his face... well, he wouldn't complain. If it bothered her he could always cover up later. Delenn's eyes warmed as she looked up and she nodded approvingly. He reflected that his garb did appear almost Minbari in style, and that might appeal to her sensibilities: an element of commonality between two quite different cultures. "May I..." She gestured towards the bathroom. "Please. Go ahead." She retrieved a dark bundle he hadn't previously noticed from a nearby chair and disappeared into the other room. Alone for a moment, John took a deep, nervous breath. "Get a grip, John," he muttered to himself, turning back the covers on the bed. "It's just a nice, simple ceremony. All you need to do is sleep." He switched off the main lighting, instead ordering the night or 'moon' lights on. He didn't use night lights when he was by himself as he knew his way around his quarters in the dark, but they were perfect for this situation: low enough to let him sleep, yet bright enough to allow 'watching'. Watching. How strange the Minbari sometimes seemed. He tried to think of an analogous romantic custom from his own culture but failed. The door to the bathroom opened and John blinked at the sudden change in illumination, before it swished shut and plunged the room back to near darkness. Her dark blue robe was drawn loosely about her; a certain casualness to the attire that was never present in her day wear. But the thing he noticed most about her appearance was that her feet were bare. It was strange: Delenn with bare feet... It made her seem more... approachable, somehow: less the mysterious, powerful Ambassador and more like an ordinary woman. While he had been wool gathering, Delenn had draped her clothes across the back of a chair and now moved to stand before him. "John." She placed soft hands upon his arm, gently tugging him to the floor. "Sit." He did as instructed, his back resting up against the side of his bed. "Close your eyes. Breathe deeply, regularly." He concentrated on her voice. On the unique, exotic inflections as he followed her advice. "Many things have happened today," she continued, "But they need to be put aside so you can rest. You may dwell on them tomorrow. Tonight, you must sleep." Her gentle tone possessed an almost hypnotic quality. One at a time, she had him examine the events of the day, putting each in its own metaphorical compartment beneath a lid. By the time they had finished, John was feeling very relaxed and unwilling to move. "Come, John. You cannot sleep upon the floor." With surprising strength she assisted him to his feet, supporting his weight when he swayed. He fumbled for a moment with the sash on his robe, before it came free and he tossed it aside to land in a pile on the floor. Had Sheridan been more alert, he would have noticed Delenn's startled expression at his mostly undressed state, but he was too busy concentrating on getting under the covers before he blacked out. "Guess y'won't hafta make it rain tonight," he mumbled, the soft imprint of her lips on his forehead the last sensation he registered as sleep reached out her ethereal arms to claim him. ############ Interlude: Kosh moved through the station corridors with as much speed as his encounter suite would allow. The occasional person he passed was startled by his uncharacteristic haste, but he ignored their expressions of astonishment. Briefly, he interlocked the bio- interface of his suit with the station's computers, moving turbo lifts to the appropriate floors so he would not be kept waiting. He had been... surprised: he had not expected his opposite to move quite this soon. But he had not been caught completely unawares: the pieces were more or less ready and in place. As it was, he arrived at precisely the right moment - swishing to a stop in front of Sheridan's quarters just as his adversary did with its human in tow. To the lower races, the petite woman would have appeared to be alone, but Kosh's senses extended well beyond those possessed by corporeal life forms. There was a moment of wary mutual inspection, as the two powerful beings faced one another. Cautiously, ever observing the other for signs of deception, they defined the rules for the coming encounter. It was more... civilized conducting affairs in this manner than attacking each other outright. The covenant forged, they allowed the human to enter the room, then moved as one to place themselves before the door to obstruct outside interference: darkness and light standing shoulder to shoulder. ################### Delenn smiled tenderly as she watched John sleep. He looked so... innocent... so young. The cares that marred his visage while awake had been smoothed and softened in his relaxed state. They had not completely vanished, however. Every so often he would toss and turn, mumbling disjointed phrases. A Commander, responsible for the well being of many even in his sleep. Her name had also passed his lips a few times. The first time she had thought he was waking and calling for her, before she realized he was dreaming. Dreaming of her. She smiled again, wondering what he dreamt: something pleasant, judging by the expression on his face and his tone. Silently, Delenn shifted away from the bed. She was tired herself. The day had left her mentally as well as physically exhausted and it was periodically necessary for her to move about to prevent herself falling asleep and ruining the ritual. An object on one of the shelves caught her attention: a hemisphere of glass, filled with clear liquid surrounding a scale model. She picked it up, disturbing the white flakes that had rested on the bottom of the container, so they swirled madly around the miniature building. Snow. She had never seen it personally - it was generally too warm on Minbar for such occurrences, but she had heard of it. The only frozen water on her planet was locked in the polar icecaps, far from any settlements. Minbari preferred the more balmy climates to be found in the temperate zone. She shook the globe again, watching the frenzied miniature storm. How strange humans were, Delenn thought wonderingly. The object seemed to serve no useful purpose, yet... The door to Sheridan's quarters slid open and a figure walked in. Delenn clutched at the globe with a vague feeling of dread as a sense of deja-vu swept over her. "Hello," the woman said neutrally. The door slid shut behind her, so she was no longer back-lit by the lights of the hallway. "You must be Delenn. I'm Anna Sheridan... John's wife." The snow-globe slipped from Delenn's suddenly nerveless fingers, the diminutive lighthouse dashed to pieces upon the hard surface of the floor. ################################ End: The Man in Between: Part 1 ################################ =========================================================================== - who does have a life, but can't remember where she's put it. If you see it, could you please let me know? From r.owen@student.anu.edu.au Fri Jan 10 11:03:13 1997 Date: Fri, 3 Jan 1997 11:50:23 +1000 From: Ruth Owen To: Alexei Kosut Subject: The Man in Between (2/3) The Man in Between ================== by Ruth Owen (r.owen@student.anu.edu.au) Part 2 -------- An incongruous sound woke Sheridan from the first decent stretch of sleep he'd had since Kosh's death. Something... shattering? He reached automatically for his link and PPG on the bedside table. "Delenn. Are you all right?" he called, noticing her standing with her back to him in the other part of the room. The two women in the outer quarters remained in position, each silently studying the other. "Delenn?" John's voice called again from the bedroom alcove, concerned. Delenn was in shock. Blood trickled from the cuts on her feet and legs carved by flying glass, but she didn't notice, totally absorbed by the appearance of this woman and the fulfillment of her greatest fear. The day had arrived. Kosh had advised her that it would come, and even though her time-flash weeks before had seemed to confirm his prophecy, she felt unready for the coming confrontation. Only that afternoon had she mentioned the possibility to John that he might have an opponent of equal abilities and importance in the ranks of the Shadow forces, and now she was faced with her own personal adversary. She had not met Anna Sheridan before, but there was an undeniable jolt of recognition that passed through her being as she realized exactly who it was who stood before her: not John's wife. Delenn knew she was looking at her opposite. Sheridan rolled out of bed, clutching the weapon, his senses extending to maximum alertness. Something was wrong. The rigid set of Delenn's shoulders alone would have told him that even if she hadn't ignored his inquiries. He moved toward her cautiously. "Delenn, what's wrong..." He stopped, the blood draining from his face as he saw who she was staring at. Delenn turned, to see the color leach from John's face. She quickly stepped back, slipping a supporting hand under his arm as he swayed on his feet. "Anna." His whisper was barely loud enough to be heard, but to Delenn it rang like a clarion through the room. The other woman stepped closer, her blue eyes narrowing at the couple's stance. "Hello, John." ############## Interlude: Garibaldi arrived outside the Sheridan's quarters at the same time Ivanova did, the security detail following closely on his heels. Before the Captain's door stood Kosh, the slight breeze from the corridor's air recyclers rippling the mantle of his encounter suit, but otherwise motionless. Surprised at his presence, the humans skidded to an abrupt halt. The Vorlon Ambassador turned his head to regard the group who had suddenly burst into the corridor, the iris of his headpiece expanding and contracting slightly as he examined them. "Are you all right, Ambassador?" Ivanova asked, moving cautiously toward him. It was the closest she was able to come to 'what are you doing here' without possibly insulting the enigmatic alien. "<.....> Yessss." The Vorlon stood squarely before the door, his position obviously chosen to prevent entry to the suite beyond. What was going on? "We need to get in to see the Captain, Ambassador," Garibaldi insisted calmly, his PPG in hand but held unobtrusively by his side. Kosh shifted his focus to the security chief. "<.....> Nnnoo." 'Okay. Two answered from two questions,' Ivanova thought. Not a bad innings considering the general track record of Vorlons. "Ambassador, the Captain's wife is apparently on the station," Ivanova explained politely. "We need to find her. Is she in there?" The Vorlon remained silent, his very silence seeming to confirm the fact, but not the most definitive answer she could have received. 'Of course she's in there, Susan, why else would a Vorlon be standing out here in the corridor at four in the morning.' "Can you tell us what's going on in there?" she tried again, keeping her voice level and calm, ignoring the hair on the back on her neck rising. The situation was making her edgy - she didn't like it one bit. "<.....> Decisions." For a moment Ivanova thought she heard an echo of Kosh's voice, a scratchy, jarring sound unlike any she had ever encountered. She shook her head, trying to clear the memory of the sound from her ears and mind, concentrating instead on Kosh's cryptic answer. Decisions. What the hell did he mean by that? ########## Sheridan had unthinkingly shifted his weight to move towards Anna, but was recalled to the present by Delenn's supporting arm and quiet warmth against his side. He took a deep breath, his eyes hardening. Anna was dead. Killed by the Shadows on the Icarus. This was some... thing. Not his wife. The enemy was evidently trying to manipulate him. It was such an obvious ploy to throw him off balance he wondered why they hadn't tried it before now. "What, not even a little 'hello'?" the woman said, arching an eyebrow. Sheridan clenched his teeth, his anger escalating: the mannerisms were spot on. Even though he knew this was a trick of some sort, he couldn't seem to prevent himself reacting. "Who are you?" he grated, leaving the protective shelter of Delenn's embrace to confront this... "Why are you pretending to be Anna? How did you get in here?" His voice rose in volume, anger lending it strength. "Who are you?" "I am Anna. Your wife," she said softly, reaching a hand toward him which he flinched from. "I've come back to you, my love." Her large blue eyes stared up at him, reflecting hurt at his rejection and his heart contracted reflexively. Damn. They really knew which things would get to him the most. "As for how I got in here..." she continued, "You really should change your access code more often, my darling. That was the same one you used last time I was aboard the Agamemnon." "Anna is dead," Sheridan stated harshly. Clearly. "Killed by the Shadows when the Icarus disturbed them at Z'ha'dum." His bearing was stiff and uncompromising. "Is that what *she* told you?" Anna asked, flicking her eyes disdainfully at Delenn. "Of course, I could see why she would. After all, it would make things quite a lot easier for her if you thought I was out of the picture: so much easier to manipulate you." "What the hell are you talking about?" "Don't listen to her, John," Delenn said, speaking for the first time in many long minutes. She walked past John to stand between him and the other woman. "She is a simulacrum - a puppet of the Shadows. Only a fragment of what was. It may be the face and form of your wife, but she is not there. Her heart and soul are gone - replaced by a dark creature." Anna stepped closer to Delenn, standing less than an arm's length away. "Yes, I know you would like to believe that, Delenn, but it isn't true. And you know it." "You claim to be Anna Sheridan," Delenn's said, her eyes flashing green fire. "Yet you allow your husband to believe for four years that his beloved wife is dead: let him suffer, enduring all the pain and agony of loosing someone he cared for greatly. Not one message to him, telling him you were all right - still alive. That does not sound like the actions of a woman John would love, does it? Do you really expect him to believe you? Do you expect him to believe you are really Anna?" "I *am* Anna Sheridan," the woman insisted, her blue eyes shooting sparks of their own. "I expect *you* to believe it. You know it in your heart, Delenn, even if you won't admit it. And you also know the reasons why I haven't come here before now. Why I haven't been allowed." She turned her attention back to John, who was staring open-mouthed at the two of them. "There is a war occurring, John, but it isn't the one they've told you about. Not by a long way. That's why I'm here: it's time for you to hear the truth." John moved between the two women, sticking the link he'd grabbed getting out of bed to his hand. The undercurrents of their conversation were... disturbing. There was so much hinted at, things he was unaware of... He seemed almost incidental and he began to wonder just who Anna... this person had really come to see: him or Delenn. Was it Anna? he asked himself, looking into the face he had once known so well. Was it really her? Or as Delenn had suggested, a creature of the shadows or a thrall like Morden. But even if she was under their control, couldn't she be restored to what she had been? Surely the Vorlons could do... something? And then what? he asked himself. What happens then? He looked at Delenn who stood waiting patiently while he regarded the two of them. What of his feelings for Delenn? He took a deep breath, expelling it in a noisy rush as the unanswered questions tangled in his mind. "OK, I want some answers," he demanded quietly, his tone brooking no arguments. "But first, I think I'd like security out there." He gestured to the door to the quarters. While there didn't seem to be any imminent danger from... Anna, it would be wise to take precautions. "Sheridan to security," he hit the button on his link, but instead of an open channel, all he got was a hissing sound. He tried again, then switched to the wall unit. Same result. "What the hell..." "Precautions have been taken so that the three of us will remain undisturbed for a while," Anna interjected. "If it makes you feel better, some of your security people are already out there." "Precautions..." Sheridan repeated. "By whom? And how do you know security's out there?" "Sh'rssshhh told me," Anna admitted. "Her Shadow Keeper," Delenn explained in a harsh tone. "We all have Keepers, Delenn," Anna said breezily. "I notice *your* tame Vorlon is out there as well." Delenn concentrated for a moment and sensed Kosh's presence nearby, wondering why she hadn't noticed him there before. "Keepers," Sheridan said half to himself, remembering the aged Londo's pronouncement in his time flash. He turned to Delenn for some sort of confirmation. "Kosh is out there?" Delenn nodded, her eyes troubled. "With a Shadow?" What the hell was going on here? Anna noticed Sheridan's confused expression and capitalized. "They like their secrets, don't they John?" she said, looking at him almost coyly from beneath her eyelashes. Sheridan inhaled sharply as that look triggered a wave of memories from his past. "They haven't told you what this business is really about, have they?" she continued. "They are using you as their tool of destruction, and you don't even know why." She shook her head sadly, and laid her hand possessively on his arm. "John!" Delenn's tone was full of warning, but he waved her down, firmly taking... Anna's hand off his person. It was easier to refer to her as Anna in his own mind, even if she wasn't exactly. "No, Delenn, I think I would like to hear this." "She is trying to manipulate you," Delenn insisted, taking his other arm. "I can sense her doing it." Sheridan's gaze connected with hers. "Just exactly *how* do you sense it, Delenn?" The question hung in the air for a moment, as Delenn bit her lip with indecision. "I thought so," Sheridan said quietly. She had not been surprised about Anna's... this person's appearance. Had she known this was going to happen? Known that... Anna wasn't really dead in a literal sense? What else hadn't she told him? "You have to admit, Delenn, that you and Kosh have been fairly... evasive about some things. I want... No. I *need* to know what is going on so I can make an informed choice. You owe me that much, Delenn." The strength of his gaze urged her to comply. It was essential that he hear not just the partial story he had been told so far, but the complete facts from both sides. Hesitantly, Delenn nodded. "If that is your wish, John." Sheridan had his back to Anna, so he missed the triumphant smirk she tossed in Delenn's direction. "OK." John sat on the coffee table, placing his PPG down beside him and waving Anna to take a seat. He looked toward Delenn, to see if she would make herself similarly comfortable, but she had retreated to lean against the shelves, clutching her robe more tightly about herself. "Okay," he repeated. "Who's going to begin?" ############ Interlude: "What the hell's going on?" Garibaldi whispered to Ivanova. "I get a message from Zach, saying the Captain's dead wife is apparently roaming the station. Then we come here and find him," he gestured at Kosh, "playing sentry and refusing to let us in. Is it my imagination, or are things completely nuts around here tonight?" Ivanova shrugged. "I have no idea what he's doing. I'm afraid your guess is as good as mine." "What next, the Narn and Centauri become drinking buddies?" he muttered sarcastically under his breath. He was irritated by Kosh's refusal to allow them access to the Captain. A person who had last been presumed in the company of the enemy had access to the commander of the Army of Light, and all the damn Vorlon could say was 'decisions.' He ran a frustrated hand across his scalp. They had tried contacting the Captain via both his link and the comm unit, and all attempts had so far failed. All they had managed to receive was some very convenient white noise. Three guesses as to who was interfering with station communications, he thought, glaring at the alien. Yes, the Vorlons were their allies, but when they pulled these sorts of stunts he really wondered.... He cast a quick glance around, assessing his squad and nodded approvingly at their form: even though there was no obvious threat they remained alert with weapons ready. Good. The way things were it could possibly get real ugly, real fast. "You know, we're assuming that she's in there," Ivanova murmured, trying to reassure Garibaldi who looked even more on edge than she felt. "This," she flicked a hand surreptitiously in Kosh's direction, "might have absolutely nothing to do with her reappearance." She didn't believe her own words, and Garibaldi's face mirrored that skepticism. "Yeah, right," he breathed. "Either way, I think you should give Marcus a buzz. With a suspected Shadow operative on the station he'll definitely want to put more Rangers 'round Delenn a precaution." "Delenn!" Ivanova slapped her forehead for forgetting this complication. "She's in..." She cut her statement off abruptly, not wishing to advertise facts about the Captain's private life to all and sundry in the corridor. Garibaldi raised his eyebrows at the implication of the sentence she had not finished. "And all three of them are in there together?" he said in an under tone, raising his eyebrows. "Oh boy." ################################ End: The Man in Between: Part 2 ################################ =========================================================================== - who does have a life, but can't remember where she's put it. If you see it, could you please let me know? From r.owen@student.anu.edu.au Fri Jan 10 11:03:20 1997 Date: Fri, 3 Jan 1997 11:53:07 +1000 From: Ruth Owen To: Alexei Kosut Subject: The Man in Between (3/3) The Man in Between ================== by Ruth Owen (r.owen@student.anu.edu.au) Part 3 -------- "Well, I was involved with you first," Anna smiled, lounging back in the chair, "so I guess you could say I have seniority. I'll go first. If you have no objections, that is." She looked pointedly at Delenn, who said nothing. Anna shrugged, taking silence for assent. "Where to begin?" she mused theatrically, pausing for effect. "The Vorlons and the beings you call 'Shadows' have been in contention for eons. In terms of power, they are fairly evenly matched, so one side never holds dominance over the other for long. These struggles, like the one at the moment, have erupted periodically throughout history. Sometimes one side will find some sort of advantage, and seize ascendancy while the other lies dormant. But the cycle always repeats, and will until the end of days." She raised an eyebrow towards Delenn. "Just an overview of the situation. Do you disagree with anything so far?" Delenn shook her head mutely, staring distrustfully at the other woman. "What are they fighting about?" Sheridan asked, flicking a quick glance at Delenn who was standing as rigid as a statue, an inscrutable expression on her face. "They are opposites: in what they are, what they believe, how they act. Opposites will always be in contention." "And the prize?" Delenn spoke up. "With contention there is always something to be gained. So tell us of the prize." "Ahhh... the prize. This is the prize." Anna waved her arm about, looking only at John. "The galaxy. Everything. "The ascendant power acts as steward, shaping events that occur and defining the direction taken by the so called 'lower races.' 'Lower races' is, by the way, a Vorlon definition: that's how they view us. The Vorlons like order, as you might have noticed, being god-like oracles; cryptic fonts of information which they dispense grudgingly - only when it suits their purposes." She pushed blond streaked locks back from her face. "Order is good, mind you, but it doesn't leave room for growth under a galaxy dominated by Vorlons. The races stagnate, lost in a child-like twighlight, never finding out what they want. The greatness they could attain denied by the whimsical edicts of an introspective, selfish group of entities. "The 'Shadows', as you call them, allow those races to grow. To learn. To choose for themselves which direction they should take. "When the Icarus woke the Shadows from their last enforced slumber, they opened our eyes to the possibilities of the universe. They gave us knowledge; the ability to determine our own fate, not have it dictated to us. What is so wrong about that? But the Vorlons, the current stewards, immediately began implementing some of their long-range plans to remain in control, forcing their notion of order on everybody and everything. Throughout the centuries they have visited the various planets, culturally conditioning the races to respond to them in a pre-defined manner so as to better manipulate them when the appropriate time arrived." Delenn remained tight-lipped, listening to Anna's recital and watching how her words were affecting John. Sheridan mulled Anna's words over. So much of she said made sense, but he was wary. The timing of her reappearance was just a little too contrived. "If they continue," Anna said passionately, "they will drag everyone back into another enforced period of ignorance." She laid her hand on John's forearm again, her fingers soft and warm against his bare skin. "You can help stop this, John," she said softly, her blue eyes connecting with his grey. "Free humanity and all the races and let us travel along the road of knowledge and advancement. To take our rightful place amongst the stars." She leaned forward as if to kiss him, but he pulled back quickly, feeling uncomfortable. He glanced at the other woman in the room. Delenn was still saying nothing, which bothered him. Bothered him a lot. Was what Anna was saying true? "How can I help stop this?" he queried, jumping to his feet and walking away from both women. "It is time for you to make a choice," Anna said. "A decision. You are not a child, so you are free to choose: to come with me, here, now, or continue what you have begun with the Vorlons and Satai Delenn there." John whirled around to face Delenn, stunned, his mouth opening slightly. "Oh John," Anna laughed, "hasn't she even told you that much yet? You see? They want to keep you ignorant, the better to toy with you." Delenn's eyes betrayed her pain. "Is it true?" he whispered, standing closer to her. "You are Satai? Grey Council?" "I was Satai," she said, a tear spilling from her eyes and running down her cheek. "I was... removed from the Grey Council after my change for disobeying them." She couldn't look him in the face while admitting that: she had never spoken openly to anyone about this matter and found it harder than she had ever imagined. Sheridan's jaw clenched. "For how long? How long were you Satai? Were you Grey Council during the War?" The depth of anguish in her eyes gave him that answer without her having to say it out loud. "The war was a terrible mistake, John, made by both our peoples. The madness that infected the Minbari after Dukat's death..." Her face was white, as she looked at his chest - still unable to meet his eyes. "We almost annihilated a race..." she whispered. "That is something I will have to live with for the rest of my life." Haunted green eyes finally raised to meet his grey. "Why? Why didn't you tell me any of this before, Delenn?" He balled his hands into fists when she didn't answer. "She's right, isn't she? About Vorlon motives? About everything?" He felt betrayed - cast adrift, no longer sure of his place in the madness around him or his reasons for participating. Delenn pulled herself away from the shelves and stood toe- to-toe with him. "She..." she paused, deliberately not calling the other woman by name, "views things from a different perspective to ours. Anna, your wife, is dead. All she was - all you loved - died at the hands of the Shadows. Kosh told you that." "Yes, but he could have been saying that so I'd go along with him. Along with him and his plans. Dammit, Delenn. Tell me." He closed the last bit of distance between them, grasping her upper arms, drawing her closer. "Tell me everything. All those little things you've never brought up; all those details you've neglected to mention. I want to know!" "You were not ready," Delenn said, wincing as his hands bruised her soft flesh, but not pulling away. "See what I mean, John," Anna purred persuasively from somewhere off to his right. "Your so-called benefactors have been deliberately making sure you didn't know things you ought. Handing out information only when they've decided you have reached an arbitrary point called 'ready'. "We are children compared to them," Delenn objected, glaring at Anna. "It is an irresponsible parent who would put a weapon into the hands of a child, before that child can differentiate between good and evil." She looked up at John, who realizing he was gripping her quite tightly, released his hands. "Most of what she said before was true, from a certain perspective," Delenn said, her gaze capturing his. "Yes, the Vorlons and Shadows contend with each other for stewardship. But where the Vorlons are order, the Shadows are chaos; the Vorlons stability, the shadows anarchy. Light and Dark, John. Two sides of the same coin - neither able to exist without the other. That is why there will always be contention. We *need* the occasional interlude of chaos if we're to grow, but extended chaos leads to a reversion: we do not progress, or even hold our own. Instead, things become far, far worse. Knowledge, ideas, enlightenment, hope. All of those things disappear, leaving an unfillable emptiness in our lives." Her voice was becoming stronger, more passionate. "Look at the way the Shadows conduct themselves: using the strong to prey upon the weak." She placed her hands flat against his chest, staring into his eyes. "Do you really think we are fighting for the wrong side in this battle? After all you have seen them do." She looked past him to Anna. "And why is *she* here now? I can tell you that, John. It's because they fear us: the Shadows fear us. You and I. "We are soul mates, John," Delenn said softly, her eyes glowing. "Two parts of the same soul, separate yet joined. Minbari and Human. Valen spoke of the fire after the two halves of the soul united to combat the ancient enemy. *She* is part of that fire." Delenn gesture toward Anna. "Her purpose to drive a wedge between us." "You remember yesterday I told you about opposites in the shadow forces. She is *my* opposite." Sheridan turned and looked at Anna, who was looking distinctly annoyed at the amount of attention he was paying to Delenn's words and the direction the conversation was taking. "Yes, I suppose you could say that," she replied to his unspoken questions, "But John, remember she has hidden things from you. *Lied* to you. Don't take anything she says at face value." "I have never *lied* to John, except to save his honor," Delenn said to Anna, drawing herself up to her full height. "Saving my honor?" John raised an eyebrow. "Yes. To tell a lie at any other time is abhorrent to a Minbari." John cocked his head, trying to remember when his honor had been at stake. Delenn easily read his thoughts and colored. "Ahh... your Flarn," she admitted reluctantly. "You did not use the spices quite correctly... I did not want to offend you." Had the situation been different or the tension in the room less, John might have laughed, but the discussion was too serious to warrant such a shift in emotions. "Yes, but you aren't a Minbari any longer," Anna noted, stalking around her. "You're a halfling, Delenn; a changeling. Belonging to neither Minbari or to Humans. So maybe such things as 'lying' aren't as important to you any more." Delenn regarded the other woman coldly, but didn't respond to her taunt, instead addressing her remarks to John. "She claims to be your wife: claims to love you. Yet she has allowed you to live the last four years thinking she was dead. Why? And why come back now? Tonight? Think about it, John: the timing is not, can not, be coincidental. "Do you really know who she is?" John stared into space, the Kosh-induced dream flashing into his mind: <> "John, I couldn't return before now - Delenn and her keeper would not have allowed me to get this close to you. They were training you, preparing you. But tonight you're graduating from their tutorlidge. You have to make the decision. What do you want? What do you want, John?" Anna and Delenn were now standing side by side, one on his right, the other on his left. And he was between. The man in between. "John had to find out who he was, had to find himself before that sort of decision would have any meaning," Delenn argued. "He has to make the decision for the right reason, not because you or I say he should." <> John studied the two women. Both were petite, but that was where the similarities ended. One a part of his past, the other a part of his present - who he had hoped to make a large part of his future. One an agent of dark the other of light. Looking at them, he suddenly found meaning in his dream. Ivanova and Garibaldi. They weren't themselves in the dream, but were representing others: representing Anna and Delenn. Ivanova, a person he had served with in the past. The raven on her shoulder a shadow keeper? That would make sense. And he hadn't known who she was, had he? Her admission about being a latent telepath, something that was an integral part of her being - of who she was, was something he never would have guessed. Had not known about her. He hadn't really known who she was, had he? 'Do you know who I am?' Did he? Did he know who Anna was? Once, he would of thought so, but now?? Garibaldi. Someone connected with his present. A good, dependable man. The dove on his shoulder obviously representing the Vorlon keeper Anna had said belonged to Delenn. Garibaldi telling him he was looking for himself. 'The man in between is looking for you.' He really was the man in between, wasn't he? Caught between past and present. Between light and dark. Between his love for two women. And had he found himself, as Delenn had implied he needed to? Who was he? Did he know that yet? He was here to make a choice. Anna was glaring at Delenn. "You've had him for the last two years, my dear," she drawled. "I'm sure your... instruction of him has been most diligent. But this is something he must do without your help." John watched as Delenn stood calmly, allowing the implied insult of just what she had been instructing him in to pass over her. Her expression reminded him of their ordeal with the Sebastian. Even as the Inquisitor had lifted his glowing staff at the end as if to strike her down, she had stood within a sea of calm, her green eyes unafraid. He looked at the woman calling herself Anna, her eyes flashing with that fire he had loved so much. Was she really Anna? His choice. He took a deep breath. "Anna... I loved you greatly. I still do in my heart. But I have moved on. *This* is my life now. Here. With Delenn. You are part of my past and will always a part of my memories. I choose to stay here, fighting the Shadow forces at Delenn's side." He steeled himself against her expression of disbelief and hurt. "That is my decision," he reiterated. Anna looked for a long moment at his face, as if memorizing every last feature, then her face altered, becoming colder. Remote. There was a distinctly non-human caste to her countenance - as if she were somehow wearing the expression of another being. John shivered, sensing danger in that look and wishing he hadn't left his gun sitting on the table behind him. The pleasant, warm facade she had been projecting throughout the course of the meeting vanished, and Sheridan knew Delenn had been absolutely correct when she had said Anna's heart and soul were gone. This was not his Anna - and never had been. It was merely the shell for a shadow. He had the urge to push Delenn behind him to try and protect her from this... thing, but held his ground resolutely - Delenn needed him as her equal, not as a shield before her. "Very well," 'Anna' said, her voice overlaid with the harsh, scratchy tones of a more ancient being: the Shadow itself speaking through her lips. "The choice has been made." She moved to the door. "We will see each other again John, it is inevitable." Her tone was certain; her voice once again her own. "We have something you want; something you do not yet know you need. You will come to us at Z'ha'dum. And when you do," she paused, her eyes no longer blue but a matte black which consumed the entire eye and filled him with dread. "And when you do, you will die. Enjoy what time you have left, John Sheridan." Those cold, inhuman eyes locked upon Delenn, staring icily; then she disappeared through the door into the corridor. John felt the tears course down his cheeks. He knew he had to accept the fact that even though Anna's body might be alive, everything that had defined the woman who had been his wife; all that he had loved, was gone: that she was truly dead. His decision had been the right one, made for the right reasons, but he still felt... He didn't know how he felt. Dimly, he was aware that Delenn was pulling him into her embrace, her tears mingling with his. Tightening his arms about her, they simply held each other. ############# The corridor was getting rather crowded, Ivanova reflected. The addition of a number of rangers to the security squad meant there was little space to move. Still, somehow, Marcus had managed to find enough room to pace up and down. But it wasn't all that hard for him: one look at the expression on his face and people seemed to automatically melt out of his path. His cloak swirled about him as he turned for yet another lap, his eyes fixed all the while on Kosh and the closed door behind the alien. He had been as firmly denied entry as the rest of them, the being ignoring all his eloquent attempts at persuasion. Abruptly, the Vorlon moved aside as the door to Sheridan's quarters opened and a petite woman emerged from the dim recesses of the room. Anna Sheridan. With no hesitation, Garibaldi's PPG was up and pointed at her, the security detail following his lead. The Rangers did not draw weapons, but stood ready to leap into action if required. "<.....> It is decided," Kosh said, spinning about and gliding down the corridor to vanish into a lift. "I'm leaving now," the woman announced, shooting a slightly amused glance at the forces arrayed before her. Ivanova's eyes narrowed. For a brief instant she thought she saw... something... a presence hovering behind Anna Sheridan; a shadow that could only be seen from the corner of your eye or it vanished. Was she actually seeing a manifestation of the enemy? Unconsciously, she tightened her grip on her PPG even though she instinctively knew that such a weapon would be of no use against such a being. "That is probably a good idea," Garibaldi said coolly, his gun still at the ready. "I'll escort you to your ship - just in case you get way-laid." He gestured to the guards, who formed up about her. "After we make sure the Captain and Delenn are okay," he added. "Of course they're all right," she said, looking highly insulted. "The truce ensured both their safety and mine. Our business is concluded, so now it is time for me to depart." Ignoring the conversation, Marcus and Ivanova had moved as one around Anna and pressed the alert chime on the wall panel. No answer. Grimacing, Ivanova entered a code on the lock panel. 'Damn you, John,' Ivanova cursed, as the door began to slide: it was the same sequence she had used last time she had let herself into his quarters nearly a year before. Didn't the man ever change it? The door swung fully open and the pair stepped inside, ready for the worst. Sheridan and Delenn stood in the middle of the room, arms wrapped tightly about each other. "Entil'zha." "Captain." Marcus and Ivanova spoke at the same time. "We are all right," Delenn said after a moment, her voice muffled by Sheridan's chest, not looking up. Sheridan also averted his face. "Could someone please escort my wif..." he paused, taking an audible breath. "Escort *Anna* off the station, please." "Garibaldi's already on it, Sir," Ivanova said softly. Marcus touched her arm, and she allowed him to draw her from the room, leaving the couple alone to deal with the aftermath of the 'decision.' ######################### End: The Man in Between ######################### =========================================================================== - who does have a life, but can't remember where she's put it. If you see it, could you please let me know?