From bmi@charm.net Sun Dec 22 23:13:07 1996
Date: Wed, 11 Sep 1996 18:32:12 +0000
From: Ann Zembala <bmi@charm.net>
To: b5-creative@lists.best.com
Subject: NEW:  "Risk" (1/1)

Hello, everyone.  I have been lurking on this list for a while now,
enjoying all of your work.  Some of you know me from "the other list"
(and I'm trusting you to keep what you know to yourselves... <g>) This
is my first submission to this group, so I would really love your
feedback.

***SLUSH WARNING*** This is a very slushy Marcus & Ivanova piece, set
sometime after "War Without End," and contains minor M&I SPOILERS up
to that point.

The characters belong to JMS, BP & WB and it is not my intent to
infringe on any of their rights.  Please don't distribute this without
my permission.

                *********************************

                            RISK
                              by Ann Zembala
 

      Dammit.
      Susan Ivanova stood in front of the galaxy map wall of the War
Room, but at that moment she was not thinking about the war, the
Shadows, or any of their current crises.  She was thinking about
something entirely different.
      Marcus.
      Dammit.
      The more Susan thought about Marcus Cole, the more frustrated
she became.  And the worst part was that she wasn't even sure why.
For someone who was used to being in control of whatever situation she
found herself in, this type of emotional confusion was *not*
acceptable.
     And it didn't help that she secretly found him very attractive,
as far as men went.  Especially in that Ranger outfit he sported.
Like something out of an old Earth fable -- tall, dark, handsome,
impossibly charming.
     The talkative Ranger had made no bones about *his* intentions
since his arrival on Babylon 5.  From almost the first day he had set
his sights on seducing her.  Spouting Shakespeare, arranging for
impossible breakfast foods to suddenly appear before her, sending
roses (at least she was pretty damned certain he had sent those
roses!)  And worst of all, talking to her friends about warming her
up, "turning her key."  Like hell.
       He also had made her genuinely laugh when she really needed it,
and always seemed to be there when she needed support.
       Dammit.
       Part of her was suspicious that it was all just a game to
Marcus-- one that he played because he knew he couldn't win.  That he
was counting on not winning.  She sensed something beneath his
charming and affable surface -- a deep and dark sorrow.  She knew his
story; he had told it to her on that first mission out on the White
Star.  The tragedy of losing everything and everyone he had loved.  It
had struck a cord with her own history of loss and pain, but it had
also made her wonder if his heart hadn't hardened as she had tried to
harden hers.  And wonder if the game he played with her was just to
pass the time between missions, serving as a distraction to the death
and destruction all around them.  All of which meant there was no real
danger of anything developing between them.
       But that thought only confused her more.
       Dammit.
       Because the truth was, she was finding herself thinking about
him more and more lately.  And in a very -- elemental way.  When they
were thrown together on missions, as they often were now, she felt
drawn to him, needing to be physically near him. She couldn't control
the impulse, but she also couldn't control her invariable reaction
when she caught herself -- irritation, even cold anger.  When she was
being brutally honest with herself, she admitted the reason for her
strong reaction.  That she didn't trust herself to get involved in
another relationship.  Not after what had happened with Talia.  And
Malcolm.  And all the ones before them.  Her heart had taken enough of
a beating.  She had resigned herself to being alone for whatever
remained of her life in these crazy times.
       And then Marcus had come crashing into her world.
       Partially her anger at him was for what he symbolized in her
mind -- the breakdown of everything that had been certain in her life:
her career, her plans, her government; the way the universe was
suppose to work, for God's sake.  It wasn't fair to blame him for any
of that, but hey, life hadn't been too fair to Susan Ivanova so far.
No wonder her gloomy Russian nature had been on full alert since *he*
had showed up.
      Forget about him, her head told her.
      Let's-- not be so hasty, replied other parts of her body.
      Dammit.

++++++

       Marcus Cole came into the War Room with a message for
Ambassador Delenn, and he went straight to her at the Council table,
somber and purposeful.  But he was aware of Susan's presence, across
the room, from the moment he entered the chamber.  And he was aware
that she was aware of him.  Normally he would have smiled about that,
taken some satisfaction in her reaction.  Just thinking about Susan,
about the challenging thrust and parry nature of their relationship,
made him smile.  And feel... something.  A hint of a feeling that he
had thought dead forever, buried forever with friends, family, a whole
world and way of life.  His jaw clinched.
       It was dead.  Wasn't it?
       As he approached Delenn,  he was assaulted by the sharp memory
of a recent conversation with her, one that had disturbed him deeply.
      "That is what you must give up, Marcus.... You must forgive
yourself."
      "Forgive myself for what?"
      "For being alive."
      Marcus pushed aside the turmoil of emotions that those simple,
quiet words had caused, and still caused him whenever he let himself
remember them.  Whenever he let himself remember any of it.  Better to
concentrate on matters at hand, on their crucial cause, on the next
mission.  Better to joke with Franklin, to play rounds of chess with
Brother Theo, to play this delicious game of cat-and-mouse with Susan.
      From the corner of his eye he watched Susan watching from the
corner of her eye as he strode to the Minbari ambassador's side.

++++++
  
       Susan was shouting, standing on the bridge of the White Star,
not caring what the stoic Minbari crew thought.  "Dammit, Marcus.
What's the point of throwing your life away?  Here, now, for this?
Think about the bigger picture here.  This is only one battle -- hell,
a skirmish -- and we've got a whole war to win yet!"  she yelled,
almost hysterical.
      The White Star hung in space near an unassuming planetoid in the
Drazi sector, where they had traveled to try to aid yet another group
of undercover Rangers who had crucial information to relay on Shadow
activity in the area.
       She had had a bad feeling about this mission from the moment
Ambassador Delenn had turned from her intense conversation with Marcus
in the War Room two days ago and called to her.  "Commander Ivanova, I
believe we will require your assistance in this matter..."
      The mission had seemed like a fairly straightforward one.  Make
a quick run to a small planet held by a minor group of Shadow allies,
find a way past the planetary defense system, contact the Ranger cell
and collect the data from them.  Straightforward.   Like *anything*
had been straightforward or simple in her life since the day she set
foot on Babylon 5 three years ago, she had thought dryly at the time.
      She had discovered as a lifelong pessimist that at least she was
never surprised when life kicked her in the teeth.  Events had proved
her right yet again.  Upon their arrival a few hours ago, they had
discovered that this nothing of a planet had somehow rigged an
apparently impenetrable defense system.  It could detect the smallest
space vessel and destroy it immediately.  No warning, no "who the hell
are you?," no chance of escape.
       No wonder the Rangers here were trapped, she had pointed out to
Marcus.  Even the White Star couldn't take out that thing, not that
they had planned to try.  The White Star had to stay hidden away from
the planet and its sensors, ready to jump the moment anything that
could recognize it happened by.  After a day of running all possible
strategies through the White Star's computer and her own mind, Susan
had decided that there were no viable options.  They had to give it up
and go home.
       Marcus, with his usual "loose cannon" attitude, had disagreed.
And had come up with a highly risky plan to make it past the defense
system in a small shuttle.  But even he admitted that the chances of
it working twice -- in order for him to get off the planet and back to
the freighter -- were slim.
       His stubbornness amazed Susan.  For a man who had told her that
he didn't believe in luck, he could be incredibly foolhardy when
staring at certain disaster.  And for what?  No one's life was in
immediate danger here.  The Rangers hadn't been detected.  Yes, the
information they had might prove helpful in tracking the Shadows; but
then again it might not.  So far nothing the Shadows did made any
sense anyway.
       But Susan couldn't seem to make Marcus see what so apparent to
her.  Which is why she found herself standing toe to toe with him now,
screaming like a banshee in front of the entire White Star crew.
       She tried again, taking a deep breath and toning down her anger
one notch.   "Sometimes as soldiers we have to admit defeat and pull
back, live to fight another day.  And you're not just any grunt,
either, for God's sake.  You can't just throw your life away on
something like this."
       It was infuriating her further that Marcus was *not* yelling
back at her.  "I learned on Minbar that no one soldier matters more
than any other," he said calmly.  " 'If I fall, another will take my
place.' "   He smiled.  "Besides, who says I won't make it?  I've got
a pretty remarkable record you know, sole survivor of my colony and
all..."
      "Dammit, Marcus, this is no time for your lame attempts at
humor," she said, emotions out of control once more.  "You can't risk
it -- don't you understand?   We need you.  *I* need you."
       She stopped dead, stunned by what had just come out of her
mouth.
       Marcus had frozen too.  He stared at her in utter amazement.
Then his expression softened.  He moved towards her, reached out to
touch her.  She stiffened and turned away from him.  Just as she had
every time before.  But he knew the truth now, and he wasn't about to
let that all-too-familiar wall of coldness stop him, not this time.
He touched her arm and felt her wince.  "Susan."
       No response.  She stood resolutely with her back to him, arms
clasped around herself protectively.
       He was suddenly aware of the time, of their purpose here.
"Listen, as much as I'd like to pursue this conversation, I'm rather
afraid I have to be going..."
       She turned to face him, her features hard.  But he was already
striding for the door.  Her heart caught in her throat, choking off
words. Just before he disappeared through the doorway he called back
over his shoulder:
      "But I *will* be back -- and then we will finish it."

++++++

       Standing at the control console four hours later, tenser than
she had ever been in her life, Susan was uncharacteristically
uncertain of what to do.  She was frustrated by her lack of control
over the situation, by the fact that there was nothing she *could* do
but wait.
      The shuttle had departed shortly after Marcus had left her.  His
crazy stunt of distracting the defense system with an artificial
meteor shower generated by the White Star while he slipped past had
actually worked.   Her heart soared when the monitors showed the
shuttle safely landing on the planet's surface.  But they had
discovered from their earlier experience that the defense system
learned from its mistakes -- some kind of artificial intelligence
system -- and she knew that there was no way he could pull off the
same trick for a return journey.
       She paced back and forth helplessly, searching over and over in
her mind for some way of figuring this out, coming up with a solution.
But how would she communicate it to him even if she did?  The defense
system had scrambled all communications to and from the planet as
well.  The waiting dragged on for what seemed to Susan a lifetime...
       Suddenly the shuttle appeared on the console screen, shooting
away from the planet's atmosphere, maneuvering in a seemingly
uncontrolled pattern.  Was he trying to confuse the  defense system?
If he was, it didn't matter.  In a single white flash, the shuttle was
destroyed.
      "Marcus!!" She screamed.  "Marcus.  Marcus."  A flood of
emotions drained out of her.  She felt a part of herself dying as the
fragments of the shuttle flew apart. Several minutes later, she was
still stunned.  Things seemed so unreal, almost dreamlike.  Unable to
focus, she nearly missed the sound of someone coming up behind her.
     "It's all right, Susan...."  She whirled to find Marcus standing
there.
     "Marcus?  How?? I don't understand..."
     "I wasn't on the shuttle.  I sent it down on autopilot-- I've
been controlling it from the docking bay area. I placed a coded
message on board for the Rangers, telling them to put the information
in the escape pod and send the shuttle back out.  Just before the
blast I ejected the pod -- it's floating  towards us now,  hidden in
the blast debris. As a plan it had all sorts of chance for disaster, I
know, but I thought about it and decided you were right.  Maybe this
wasn't the time or place for a suicide mission.  And maybe I do have
reasons to try to stay alive....."
       Susan stared at him is disbelief for another long moment, then
ran to him and threw herself in his arms.  Just as abruptly, however,
she pushed away, anger flooding her face with the realization that he
had been on the White Star the whole time and hadn't let her know.
       Then all of the old volley of mixed emotions, the confusion,
set in.   All she could do was storm off the bridge, leaving Marcus to
command the White Star away from that hellish place and back to the
safety of hyperspace.
       An hour later, she had had time to compose herself.  When she
walked  back onto the command deck her expression was quiet and
subdued, struggling for its earlier stoniness.
       He ignored it and walked to her side, taking her hand in his.
He couldn't tell if she was shaking more, or he was.  He started to
speak, but she stopped him by pulling her hand away and stepping back
from him.
       "Look, Marcus.  I'm glad you're alive.  I can't deny that.  And
I can't deny that I meant... what I said before.  But I'm just not
ready for -- can you understand?  I need more time...."
       His tone was carefully polite, neutral.  It contained no hint
of his own raging emotions.  "I understand.  And now this is where, I
suppose, as a gentleman I say:  'All right.  I'll be patient.  Take
all the time you need.  We've both got a lot to sort out...' "
       Visibly relieved, Susan smiled her gratitude at his
understanding.  "Thanks, Marcus, I knew I could count on you..."
       So she was completely unprepared for what happened next.
Without hesitation he strode forward, pulled her into his arms, and
kissed her passionately.
       Stunned,  Susan felt herself at first unable to react, to move
in any way.  Then as she tried to make herself push out of his arms,
she started to melt into them instead, deepening the kiss.  But as
suddenly as he had embraced her, he let her go.
      "Sorry about that." he said in his softest voice, stepping back.
"I guess I'm not a gentleman after all.   But I will wait for you,
Susan -- for as long as you need."  He turned and walked away.
 
++++++

       Dammit.
       The journey back to the station had been quiet, polite.  They
had barely spoken.  Susan had forced herself not to think, not to
feel. When they finished their debriefing session with the War
Council, she had rushed out without saying a word.
       Hours later,  she found herself facing the same old confusion
and swirl of emotions, more intense than ever.  But she also found
herself standing in front of Marcus's quarters. And at such a late
hour that he had to be asleep.
       "What the hell are you doing, Ivanova?" she asked herself.  But
even as she muttered it aloud she was aware of a single emotion rising
to the top of the storm inside her heart.  A calmness, almost a
happiness, that she hadn't felt for a long, long time.  And then, a
sense of urgency, brought on by the realization that moments of calm
happiness were fragile and tenuous in this crazy universe.   Which
made it all the more important to cling to them fiercely.
       She pushed the door chimes.  Moments later a half-dressed,
sleepy and surprised Marcus stood in the doorway.  Her resolve
faltered.  So did her carefully rehearsed banter about "eat, drink and
be merry."  She stood frozen in the hallway, her eyes locked on his.
       Marcus, however, didn't hesitate at all.  He pulled her though
the door and into his arms with a passion she felt resonate to the
depths of her soul.
       And her last clear thought before she lost herself completely
in his embrace, aware only of his strength surrounding her and the
movement of his lips on hers, was that finally, finally, this was
*right.*

                  *************************

                    And then the day came,
                    when the risk
                    to remain tight in the bud
                    was more painful
                    than the risk
                    it took
                    to Blossom.
                              - Anais Nin, "Risk"

         ***********************************************

Please let me know what you think!  Oh, and there is a follow up piece
which is too steamy to post here.  If you're over 18 and would like to
read it, e-mail me (bmi@charm.net) and I'll send it to you.

Ann