"Well, Jeff…isn't this cozy."

Susan, even in her half-asleep state, knew that voice. The deep lilting quality of the voice was unmistakable and unforgettable. The last time she had heard it had been almost two years previous in the crowded landing bay when she had stopped by to say goodbye to the woman. Catherine had just accepted a position upon a large independent science and exploratory vessel headed for the rim. Ivanova had beaten Jeff there and had shaken the small Asian woman's hand and wished her luck and happy returns. As she had turned to leave, the Commander had arrived, passing her with a nod and a friendly smile. The last thing she saw as she turned to ride the lift to the catwalk above the main hanger was Jeff gathering Catherine in an embrace.

She had been happy for him at the time. Usually when Catherine returned to the station his attitude would improve and a smile would appear on his face more often. She didn't know what to feel at that moment. She was numb. Jeff's arms were still around her, tightly holding her to his chest. Ivanova felt like a shield being held up against a mortal arrow aimed for his heart.

Ivanova grimaced and tried to lever away from Jeff's naked chest, but he stubbornly refused to let her go.

"Catherine?" she asked her voice gritty from sleep.

Susan pushed harder on Jeff's chest as she heard the sound of a bag being dropped in the room. He sat up suddenly, allowing her legs to slip from between his. He had not said a word since the other woman had entered the room and Susan wondered if he was in shock. Glancing up at his face in the semi-dark, she saw his eyes gaping at Catherine, his mouth half-open in surprise and his Adam's apple was moving rapidly. Christ, she thought suddenly and clearly, a spirit is visiting us. Catherine was dead.

"I'm alive, Jeff…you don't have to gape at me like that…"

Sinclair mumbled something and helped Susan to sit up fully. Ivanova was immensely happy that tonight had not been a love making session in the living room. At least she was fully clothed. She rubbed her eyes and frowned. What the hell was going on?

Catherine turned her stare from Sinclair to her and Susan straightened her spine in response. "We heard you were…"

"Dead." Jeff finished. He sat forward quickly, letting his head fall into his hands. Susan could see a slight shake to the fingers and palms. Definitely shock, she thought. She didn't want to dwell on the fact that she could barely feel anything and opted to rise from the sofa. As she reached the counter, she noted that her hands shook as well.

"I'm very much alive."

The words were said in a tone that Susan could only describe as icy. She turned and spied her Captain sitting in the middle of the couch. He met her eyes and pushed to stand. To her, he looked as if he were going to topple over. His hair was rumpled, his pants were wrinkled and his chest looked warm and a tad bit sweaty. If he had just stumbled out of the bedroom, she would have sworn they had just made love. Sinclair kept his eyes on Susan as he walked toward the counter and her. His eyes were wary and she knew that he did not trust his own senses. Dear God in Heaven, she thought as she swallowed. Please don't let him think this is a nightmare, a flashback.

Catherine stepped forward to touch his shoulder and he jumped backwards, almost as if burned. Sakai stopped and shook her head. "Jeff…it is me…Catherine."

"You are dead."

Ivanova heard the dead quality in his voice and groaned inwardly. Walking forward, she touched his arm. Almost quickly as she did, his hand whipped out and grabbed at her arm. She gently rubbed at his bulging arm and nodded. He took a deep breath and turned his eyes back to Catherine. "Catherine?"

The captain sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. Susan leaned into Jeff. "Captain? Jeff? I'm going to leave. Are you all right?"

"Don't." he said quietly. "Stay."

"You need to talk to her…"

"You can talk to Susan in the morning, Jeff," Catherine added.

Ivanova could see the boot on her foot tapping. She wanted to stay if only to throw the other woman off and to keep Jeff company. But half the occupants of the room did not welcome her. Susan ignored Catherine as she addressed him further. "If you need me, get me on the comm."

Sinclair looked lost for a moment and then suddenly his face closed and his eyes cleared. He squeezed her arm in return and nodded. "I'm fine, Ivanova. Stay near the comm."

She nodded and left the room quickly, her head high and her back as straight as a pole. Her feet were bare and her braid was loose in her hair, but she didn't care. She had to leave the room; she had to get away. The pain in Sinclair's eyes when he had first looked at her after Catherine had entered had cut her to her core. The pleading look in his gaze when she had told him she was leaving had wounded her. Her legs felt shaky; her hands were sweaty and her head whirled. Catherine was back.

Catherine was back.

It was all she could think about as she strode to the lift. She wanted to run, to run and to find a place to be alone. Catherine was back. Back with Jeff…back at Babylon 5…not dead…

Not dead…alive. And back with Sinclair…

She quickly left the lift on her floor and paced to her berth, just a short distance from the doors. Her card flew into the slot and the door opened just as quickly. But once she was inside, she let it close and then she leaned against it and slid to the floor. Oh Christ…

**

Jeff had seen the look of desperation hidden deep in Susan's eyes. He had only seen it once previously: the night they had begun their physical relationship when she wanted to return to her room and leave him. She had wanted to run then; she wanted to run now. It was a look that said: I can keep my cool only so long…I can keep my strength about me long enough to get me out of the situation, but please let me leave now. Asking her to stay when she so wanted to leave was selfish he had thought suddenly and that thought had pulled him together. He would find her as soon as he revealed that this woman was an impostor.

"I don't know who the hell you are," he roared, turning to face the woman as she walked to the bedroom. "But you can get the hell out of my quarters."

"After all the time we spent together, Jeff…you are seriously asking me who I am? I thought you knew me better than anyone." Catherine put her hand on her hip at the door to the bedroom and looked around. "Well at least she hasn't moved in yet."

Sinclair stalked across the room and grabbed at the woman's arm. Turning, she stared up at him with a half smile. "Don't touch me, Jeff…unless you mean it…"

With narrowed eyes and a frown, Sinclair dropped her arm and backed up two steps. "Christ…it is you. What the hell?"

"I can see I’m going to have to tell you what happened before you will welcome me back properly, Commander…or…its Captain now…isn't it? Fine. You always were a prove it to me man," she walked to the couch and sat down. Jeff remained as he was and crossed his arms over his chest. "You know, Jeff…you have it all wrong. You are playing with the wrong team. The Shadows aren't all the evil that you think them to be…not by a long shot."

Sinclair continued to stare at her and she sighed. "It all started two years ago when I left here to go to Zeta 1125…"

**

Garibaldi ran out of the lift at full tilt. His coat was not fastened and his cuffs were loose, but he didn't care. He had to get to Sinclair before Catherine did. Somehow, he didn't think that Ivanova would take to the news to well that Sinclair's old flame was back on board. There was just that annoying burning at the back of his skull that told him that Susan was going to be the one worse for the wear in all of this.

He arrived at Susan's quarters at a full run. He pressed the comm. "Ivanova? Ivanova? Jeff? You guys in there? Come on, its Garibaldi…Mike. Let me in…its important."

Silence answered his call and he cursed, slapping his thigh. Christ…they must have been at Sinclair's quarters and in that case…he turned to run to the elevator only to hear the door open behind him. Ivanova stood in the doorway, her chin set and her hands clenched at her sides. She appeared her usual self, down to the way that her lips formed that perfect straight, no-nonsense line he admired. But her eyes were dull, not shiny, and her hair was curly and hanging in her face. She was in sweats and her feet were bare.

"You were in his quarters, weren't you?" he asked, needlessly. He knew.

"We were."

"She came there, didn't she?"

"Yes."

Garibaldi walked toward her with a slow gait. In the dim light of the corridor and the darkness behind her, she appeared very young. Her head tilted back to let her eyes stay trained with his. He reached out with both hands to hold her shoulders. "Was he okay?"

"As okay as he could be with that shock."

"Where is Jeff?" Garibaldi asked, squeezing her arms.

"In his quarters…with…." Ivanova shrugged her shoulders, but Mike held her arms tightly. "Jesus Christ…she's alive, Mike. He's spent the better part of two years thinking she was dead. I can't imagine what was going through his mind right now."

Garibaldi pulled on her arms and put his arms around her as she collapsed into his chest. He could feel her hesitation, but held until she relaxed and sighed.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Fine, Mike."

He pulled back and glanced at her face. "I'm going to see the Captain."

She nodded and eased away from him. "I think my presence would be a definite problem…you had better go."

Garibaldi smiled and squeezed her shoulders. "I'll patch in…"

Ivanova nodded. "Go, Mike."

He turned and left her, letting the door slide shut behind him. Ivanova sighed and let her head hang forward. After a minute, she turned and found the couch, and relaxed back into the cushions. Her muscles went toneless as she let the structure take her weight. With a groan she shut her eyes.

**

John's hand stuck out and knocked the wrist comm from the table by the couch. He hated distractions. He hated distractions when he was alone; he hated them even more when he was not alone. And right at that moment, he was not alone. Delenn's small hands were wound into his hair; her soft pliable lips were open under his. It was all he could think about then…was Delenn. She had the power to make him forget and remember all at the same time.

It had surprised him how quickly she had entered his heart and how quickly he had allowed the presence. He had begun to believe the rumors about himself: that he was a womanizer, a playboy. Love them and leave them. Both of his marriages had been short and not necessarily sweet. But Delenn… Delenn with her beautiful wide blue eyes and her gentle heart. Delenn who was equal parts fire and love. Delenn who was so spiritual that he often felt that his soul connected with her on a molecular level. Delenn was the reason he no longer believed the rumors. He loved her. Deeply. He didn't want to leave her, didn't want to be interrupted with her.

He only wanted to hold her, kiss her and forget for just a little while that the universe was going to hell in a handbasket. And the comm, well…the comm reminded him of it all.

She pushed on his chest and he moved a little away from her. He smiled gently, like a man given his fondest wish. "What?"

"You will have to answer them, John," she said, raising her hand to brush down his cheek. "It might be an emergency."

"They know the code for emergency…that was not it. That was Garibaldi."

His lips touched at the tender skin of her chin and neck. She rested back against the couch arm and he was stretched, relaxing over her. As he pressed down with his muscles on the arm of the couch, he realized he was shaking. She was having a heavy affect on him that night. For a woman he loved and had not slept with, he was affected more than he wanted to admit. Her sigh made him smile.

The comm squawked on the floor. He lowered his head to rest against her shoulder and she laughed lowly. The alto tones of the laugh made him shiver. "They want you, John."

"I'll kill him."

"No you won't, John."

"You are right; I won't…just hurt him a little."

Sheridan lowered his hand over the side of the couch and snatched up his comm. With an exaggerated move, he slapped the comm on his hand and pressed the button. "Sheridan here…go Garibaldi…and this had better be the end of the world as we know it."

"Not quite," Michael's voice answered back. John could hear the exasperation in his voice. Involuntarily, Sheridan sat forward on the couch. His white shirt was opened at the neck and his black pants stretched across his tense thighs. Delenn sat up straight, leaning into his shoulder to hear the conversation. "It's Sinclair."

John cursed. "What happened?"

"Catherine is back."

"Catherine?" Sheridan asked, shaking his head. In the next second, he remembered. "His old flame…Catherine Sakai? She died…"

"Two years ago, Sheridan. But she's here, alive in the flesh. And apparently sitting in his quarters. I just left Susan…"

"What does Susan…"

Mike sighed. John could hear the doors of a lift sliding shut. Other voices and noises were cut off and silence reigned. "They are…pretty involved, John. He was with Susan tonight in his quarters when Catherine came aboard. I'm on my way to Jeff now. I think you might want to be in on this…"

John nodded and rubbed at his neck. "All right. All right. I'll…join you at his quarters in 15 minutes, Garibaldi."

He pressed the comm and cut off the conversation. With a growl he turned to Delenn. "The dead return. Christ. Delenn…"

Delenn sat still, motionless against his shoulder. Her dress was a soft, silken blue and fell about her curves wonderfully. When he turned to glance at her, she met his eyes almost shyly. "Delenn?"

"This is not good, John. I fear that the worst will happen."

"Delenn…what are you…" he leaned forward and turned to her fully. "If this is Catherine Sakai, obviously the reports of her death were wrong. We'll have to do tests…"

She laid her hand on his arm and sighed. "It is Catherine Sakai. And I fear that from which I have protected Jeffrey is coming to pass."

He groaned and hung his head. "Delenn…it is not…look…why don't you check on Ivanova and I'll contact you after I see Sinclair? And promise me…Delenn…we made a pact not to keep secrets from each other. Promise me that you will tell me what the hell you are talking about…I want to know…if it involves Jeff…as his friend…it involves me."

"I think there is no other recourse now, John."

She looked so morose that he frowned. "You admit to keeping…"

"As you do…go to Jeffrey. Help him sort this out and then bring him to me. I will tell the both of you together…and not before." Her voice was harsh and it made him frown even more. Rising, he stepped over her legs and strode to the door.

"Fine. I'll contact you in a little while, Delenn."

The door to her quarters opened and shut before she could say anything else. She knew that he had left before his temper would have driven him to say more. She pushed to her feet and drew her gown closer about her body. She felt cold, almost icy….she could feel the evil on the station now that John's light and warmth were gone.

She ran her finger over her personal communicator and waited until Lennier's face appeared on the screen. He bowed and leveled his gaze at her, trying, in vain to not let her see his eyes falling to glance at her comfortably attired body. "Lennier."

"Delenn."

"It has happened: they have sent Jeffrey Sinclair's former lover."

Lennier bowed slowly. "And Captain Sinclair?"

"I hope that his heart knows its proper place, Lennier. I hope that his soul's bond is strong enough to survive this…to give him a reason."

"It is not necessary to the prophecy that he survive, Delenn," Lennier stated and then lowered his head again. "Although I will state that I wish it otherwise. His place: here and his time: now is important. It is happening as it is written. You and I know that his place in the prophecy after this is…not…"

"I know that his place is not foreseen." She answered harshly and paced in front of the screen. "But he is my friend."

Lennier knew better than to remind her about friendship and religious prophecies. He knew that neither had a place with the other. He sighed heavily and nodded. "Your wishes?"

"I am going to check on Ivanova, Lennier. And then I am going to meet with John and Jeffrey and tell them everything."

Lennier lowered his hands and frowned. "Delenn…that is not advisable."

"I cannot keep all of this from them, Lennier. They must know at least about Sakai. Report to the war briefing room in six hours, Lennier."

Before her attaché could answer, she cut off communication and paced back across the floor. It was inadvisable to tell them all of the plan, all of the prophecy. But she had kept the secret from them long enough: Jeffrey deserved to know his place in the grand scheme; John needed to know what it was that she kept in her soul away from him. His love for her could never truly find fruition until she let him see that part of her. With a sigh, she twirled about and headed for her bedroom.

She had to dress. And to put on her courage which she suddenly found that she was lacking.

"You really do not believe me, Jeff? For some reason, that does not surprise me." Catherine leaned forward and rubbed her neck. She sat in his chair, facing Jeff across the low table. Jeff sat on the couch as tense as a coil. "Now I have a question for you…"

"Not yet, Catherine. I am not answering any questions from you until I am assured that it is you. We have seen a lot of strange things here in the last few years…" Sinclair ground out. He could hardly believe that he was having this conversation. Catherine was dead. She had been for two years. Delenn and Kosh had confirmed it; John was witness to the conversation.

"Why, Jeff?" Catherine ran her hand through her hair and glanced at him with wide eyes. "It has been two years. We always bump into each other every two years. And this time it is you who are with someone else…"

"Leave Susan out of this."

"Testy. Fine. I'll leave her out of this for the time being. It is against regulations, though, Captain, to be sleeping with your second in command."

Sinclair rose and paced across the floor. "You are saying that the Shadows…or whatever the hell it is you call them…are actually no more evil than the Vorlons or humans…"

"Or anyone else…they simply do what they do. They helped us on Z'ha'dum. When our ship exploded, they took us in their colonies and helped us to survive. We uncovered a lot of their ancient artifacts for them and…you would not realize what their planet is…how much…what it has for resources. I could retire just by reporting it to the Omega League. And you avoided the conversation about Commander…it is Commander Ivanova, now…isn't it?"

Sinclair spun around and found that his fists were clenched. "It is."

"Did you promote her before or after you started sleeping with her, Captain?"

He grinned suddenly, an emotionless mask of a grin. "It is you, Catherine…you could always be a bitch on wheels when you wanted to be."

"Not admitting to anything then?"

"Not by a long shot."

His door chimed and, turning, he called out for it to open. Garibaldi entered his room quickly. He found himself sighing through his teeth. "Michael."

Garibaldi stopped, glancing past Jeff's half dressed form to the woman that sat on his couch. If both Zack and Ivanova had not warned him, he would have sworn that he was seeing a spirit. "Jesus fucking Christ."

Sinclair nodded. Catherine called out a greeting. "Garibaldi…long time…"

Michael finished his entrance into the room and glanced at Sinclair with a look that made him Jeff thank god for his friends. Garibaldi folded his arms over his chest and glared at Catherine after he was convinced that his friend was all right. "Sheridan is coming, Jeff. I think we are all in need of hearing an explanation. And Franklin has Medlab 6 set up to do some tests."

"Good thinking, Mike."

Garibaldi nodded and faced Catherine completely. He rocked back on his heels. "Tell me what you told him…don't leave anything out…and when you have convinced me that I shouldn't reserve an airlock with your name on it…I'll get you up to the Medlab facility. If you are Catherine…I'll apologize later. If not…I get to practice my spacing skills. Get talking."

 **

Ivanova pressed the comm and answered the waiting ship with a clipped, no-nonsense tone. "Godiva, you may dock in landing bay alpha 6. I repeat, landing bay alpha 6. Relinquish control of your ship on my mark. Mark."

She sighed as she saw the ship lead into the docking bay over her head. She had not been able to even sit still in her room, so she had come on the comm ordering the junior officers to relinquish their station to her. The midnight crew was not used to her being on the comm and acted wary about her. But she liked that. It made her feel…in control. And God knows the rest of her life seemed…out of control. "How many more ships are there tonight?"

"Six, Commander."

"Good. Have you run a full diagnostic on the defensive grid?"

Ivanova leaned over the console and pressed a few more buttons. The door to C and C slid open and shut as the lieutenant answered her. "Yes, sir. Diagnostic completed, the defensive grid is fully operational."

"Good."

"Ivanova?"

Startled, Susan spun on her feet to see Delenn standing across the well. The Minbari ambassador leaned on the railing and tilted her head to the side. Susan nodded in greeting and turned around to finish the sequence she had been entering. "Ambassador. How may I be of assistance?"

"I need to have a word with you."

Ivanova nodded. "Fine. Ten minutes, Ambassador."

Delenn was silent as she watched Ivanova bustle around the well and address Station One. "Now, please, Susan."

Ivanova grimaced as she pressed a few more buttons. With a nod and a forced smile, she turned to the Lieutenant. "Get a status report on the White Star Fleet and the repair crews. Have zeta wing launch for patrol. I will be in the Captain's office."

Turning, she strode over to Delenn and held out her hand. "Ambassador…" Delenn frowned at her friend and walked ahead of her out of the control deck and down the hall. When she entered the office, she turned to address Susan.

"Ivanova."

"What is it that I can help you with, Ambassador?" Susan asked as she paced to the desk and put her hand down on its surface.

"You can call me by my name, Susan. I am your friend."

Ivanova sighed and shook her head. "I am sorry, Delenn. I'm edgy tonight."

"I understand the reason, Susan," Delenn answered, and sat down in the chair in front of the desk. She waited until her stare at the other chair elicited a response and Susan sank into it before she continued. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. It was just a…shock…the report was that she did die. I am just…" Susan stopped talking and jumped up out of the chair to pace to the other side of the desk. Delenn watched her friend go.

"You are worried about Jeffrey. And you are worried about what the future will bring."

Ivanova glanced back at Delenn and threw her hands wide. "Hell, even Garibaldi is worried about the Captain…he just fully accepted her death. And as for the future, Delenn…it never has been certain."

"No," Delenn sat forward in the chair and laid her arms on the desk. She knew that the future would bring pain to this woman, but a future without hope was worse than no future at all. "No, it is not. But when you have someone to face it with…the uncertainty is not so unsettling. And that…that is what you are worried about, Susan."

"I don't know what you are talking about," Ivanova grit out and turned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Jeffrey. He will not abandon you, Ivanova…no matter what happens."

Susan closed her eyes and appeared about to explode. After few breaths, she relaxed. "Ambassador…Delenn…I have to report back to the comm…I am the senior officer tonight. I appreciate your attention to details."

Delenn rose and walked to her friend. Laying a hand on her arm, she smiled. "I will be around when you need to talk, Susan."

With a nod, Susan closed her eyes and waited until Delenn left before she leaned forward on the desk and released a powerful breath.

**

Outside in the hall, Delenn folded her hands together and bowed her head. She could feel something akin to panic in the air around the Commander and the feeling was so strange to associate with her that Delenn felt shaken. Her worry extended far beyond Jeffrey now; she was just as worried about Susan.

**

"I want a full battery of tests."

Stephen crossed his arms over his chest and squinted his eyes at Catherine through the window. He shook his head and rubbed at his lips. "I can do that, Captain…have to have her okay for it."

"That's ridiculous, Franklin," Sheridan said, mimicking the doctor's stance. "I think the evidence is enough to warrant the tests."

"Evidence, my ass," Garibaldi stated. "Just do it, Stephen. We don't need evidence…our word about this should be enough."

"I have ethics about this, Michael," Stephen said, quietly.

John held out his hand. "And the last two years of Jeff going through thinking she was dead to have her show up on the doorstep talking about the Shadows isn't enough of an ethical weight on the other side, Doctor?"

Franklin sighed and nodded. "I know the argument. And I can see what you are saying, but I have to at least ask her to take the tests willingly."

"Christ," Garibaldi slapped his hand against his thigh. "I don't believe this."

"I'll ask her."

Stephen looked surprised and glanced at Sinclair. The man wore his jacket, but it was open at the neck. And there was no shirt underneath. His hair was mussed. The gold command bar was nowhere to be seen. Still, when Sinclair returned his glance, Stephen saw a measure of impressive power that he would never question.

"Are you sure?"

Sinclair nodded and pushed away from the wall. Walking into the small medlab room, his hands swung at his side, clenched in fists. Catherine sat on the table, her hands tucked under her legs. When he approached her, her chin rose to fix him with a calm glare. "Jeff."

"Catherine," he stopped at the door and folded his arms over his chest. "We want to run tests so that we know that you are who you say you are."

"You still don't believe me?" Catherine shook her head. "Would it help if I recited Idylls of a King?"

"No."

"You have changed. Normally you can barely stay away from me this long let alone not believe that it is me."

"Yes, I have."

"If I take these tests, will you believe me? We have a lot of time to make up, Sinclair, I would hate to waste it sitting on a bed that is not yours."

Jeff lowered his head for a moment before he answered her. "If the tests are positive, Catherine, I'll talk more with you. I'll answer your questions, but not before I have the results of that test in my own hands."

"I suppose," Catherine answered, glancing at him coyly, "that that is the best answer I am going to get. Fine. I'll take the tests."

He nodded and turned, almost at attention, to walk back out to his friends. Passing Stephen, he nodded to the man. "You heard her answer. I want a full battery of tests. Including any physical tests that might match to the abnormalities that we have seen with people who have been with the Shadows for an extended period of time. The implants…understood?"

Franklin nodded and pushed back past the weary Captain to walk into the small medlab room. Sheridan laid his hand on Jeff's arm. "The implants?"

"Then we would know if she is under their influence, John. And so help me…if I find out that it is her and they did this to her…"

Garibaldi crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "They can match genetic material, you know."

Sinclair nodded. With a tired sigh, he answered. "If it is her…and she is under their influence…we hurt them."

John glanced into the room and shook his head. Franklin was taking blood from Catherine's arm. "Let's hope that it is not her…that eventuality is a little too much to handle."

Sinclair groaned and glanced into the room. His head leaned into the glass and he let the cool surface seep into his skin. After a second, he said, very quietly, rumbling. "I have to talk to Susan."

John glanced at Mike and the other man rolled his eyes. They both knew that Susan was going to be a hard one to handle if it was Catherine. Sheridan shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his feet. "Delenn wants to talk to you and I, Sinclair. I think it is very important. That might take precedent over talking with Ivanova right now."

Jeff rubbed his eye fist and then pounded the table beside him for a moment. "She is a good enough friend above and beyond our…" he glanced at Mike. "…physical relationship, that she deserves to be kept up on this development."

"I know Ivanova, Jeff. She is a tough cookie." Garibaldi answered. "And she is strong enough to wait for an answer. It would be better to go to her with all the information than to not. You know that. She prides knowledge and honesty."

Sheridan agreed. "Take it from a man that has two ex-wives, Jeff. Garibaldi is right."

Sinclair nodded, once and stood straight. Reaching up, he closed the collar on his uniform. "Where are we meeting, Sheridan?"

**

Ivanova groaned and lifted her hand to rub at her neck. It was 0800 hours and she was still on the comm. The midnight crew had long since gone off duty and the day crew had come on. And still, she stood on the deck. She couldn't sleep; she felt too jumpy to do anything except her job. For some reason, it was the only thing that calmed her. And she didn't know why she was uptight.

"Minbari convey Beta, you are cleared for unloading. Proceed to the zero gravity cargo area, beacon beta 7."

After a few more slaps to the console, she sighed. So Catherine had returned…if it were truly her, she would be estactic for Jeff. She knew how much he missed her, and knew how much guilt he carried around from his last few months with her. It would do him a world of good to work out some of the guilt.

She turned and addressed Station One. "Run a communications check on the fighter wings. I want to make sure that all the Furies are in working order. And contact Citizen G'Kar. I have questions about his 'present' to Babylon 5."

Corwin nodded and proceeded to carry out the orders.

Ivanova frowned and ran a diagnostic on the off-station channels and for communication with the hyperspace beacons. Hell, if it were Catherine, she would be…

With a sigh, she realized that she would be angry as hell. What the hell had that woman been thinking to leave Sinclair thinking she was dead? Didn't she know what it had done to the man? She, Susan, had seen the effects on the man's emotions. How would someone that had loved and lived with the man for many years not be able to see it?

"The communications are in perfect working order, Commander," Corwin reported. "Citizen G'Kar will be on deck in one standard hour."

Ivanova nodded. "Well done, Corwin."

If it were Catherine, Susan thought as she stilled her hand on the console and glanced out at the stars, she would be…hurt. Why, she didn't know, but she knew that she would be. She frowned and tilted her head to the side for a moment. Neither Sinclair, nor she had ever said anything that was…committing. They were friends, extremely close friends, which enjoyed each other's company in the bedroom. Even with Catherine back, she would still be his second in command. He would still be her commanding officer and more importantly, her friend. Nothing would change; only their time spent between the sheets would…

"Has Captain Sinclair contacted observation yet?" she asked, leaning forward to activate the jumpgate for an incoming transport.

"No, sir."

With a nod and a sigh, she punched the code into the console. "Drazi transport, Hidan, welcome to Babylon 5. You may dock in landing bay 7, point alpha 8. Relinquish control of your ship on my mark. Mark."

**

"Delenn."

Her name was said softly and she glanced up from her seat by the window in the briefing room to see Jeffrey and John standing in doorway. Both of them wore their uniforms haphazardly and tiredly. Jeffrey's face appeared almost wan; John's eyes were dull. She moved aside on the bench and nodded for them to join her. John was the first to walk forward. He sat in the space provided by her on the bench. Jeff continued to stand, walking to the window. He stood at it, his hands held tightly behind his back as he faced the silent green.

"You know that I wanted to speak to the two of you, John…Jeffrey."

Sheridan nodded, leaning forward to balance his elbows on his knees. "That is why we are here."

"What do you need to tell us, Delenn?" Jeff asked, quietly.

"It concerns your friend, Catherine."

Jeff turned and faced Delenn, his face a mask of studied calm. She continued. "It concerns John and I. And it concerns you most of all, Jeffrey. But I do think that it will also affect one other as much as it affects you."

He nodded. "Then tell me, Delenn."

"It will not be kind."

"In the name of friendship, I ask for honesty…even if it hurts," Jeff answered. "I respect honesty, Delenn."

She nodded and sighed, lowering her head. Her small, pale hands gripped at her skirt. "And I will tell you it all, honestly." She laid her hand on John's leg for a moment and then rose, walking past him and around the table. Near the window was a small model of the galaxy etched into glass. She put her hand down on it and gazed at it deeply for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and turned, addressing by John and Jeff.

"I know you remember some of your time on the Line, Jeffrey. I suspected as much. You remember me….from the ship."

Sinclair was caught off guard and nodded, quickly. Before he could say anything, she held up her hand. "You do not remember being tortured, though, I expect. You remember…" she licked at her lips for a moment. "You remember me holding a small triangle in front of you…the triluminary. Your eyes…when you looked at me…you were lucid then. You remember that, don't you."

Her voice was forceful enough that John remained quiet. Jeff shifted on his feet and nodded again. "I do. I remembered almost three years ago, Delenn."

"Do you know what the triluminary is, Jeffrey?" At his head shake, she answered. "It is an ancient artifact that is used by our religious caste for the purposes of determining souls. You see…we believe in…"

"Reincarnation," Jeff answered. He swallowed and lowered his head. "The triluminary is used to check the purity of a soul, isn't it…to determine…I don't know…heritage…"

"Yes. That is a fair explanation. It matches soul lines with soul lines, Jeffrey. It…tests to see if a soul in its entirety was transferred from one existence to another. We do not understand how it works…not entirely. The Vorlons gave it to us around the Time of Valen. We understand only that it does work."

Jeffrey nodded. He waved his hand in the air for her to continue. "You used it on me. Then you wiped my mind and let me go."

"And you have always searched for the reason why…for the truth."

"Hell yes…that ruined my life, Delenn," Jeff roared and turned back to the window. "The Line ruined what was left of me and my missing time ruined my reputation." He waited a moment and turned back around. The fire in the man’s eyes amazed John. He wondered if Sinclair was going to attack Delenn. "What the hell did you do to me? What the hell did you see?"

Delenn sighed and lowered her head. "We saw purity in you, Jeffrey. Purity of Minbari spirit."

"Minbari?"

"What the hell?!" Sheridan rose and faced Delenn across the low table. "Minbari?"

"A Minbari soul line so honored that we are taught from our youth in the religious caste to look for it everywhere…and to revere it when we find it."

Sinclair raised his hand to rake through his hair viciously. Turning, he paced across the floor. His hands shook as he clenched them at his side. Delenn didn't wait for an answer; she continued her voice louder. "We found it in you, Jeffrey. We found the pure soul of Valen."

Sinclair whipped around. He grabbed for the nearest chair back and gasped for a moment. "Valen? God dammit, Delenn. To think that I am Minbari…that is ludicrous. To think that I am Valen…reincarnated…is…"

"Is the prophecy, Jeffrey," she answered quietly.

"The hell it is."

"The triluminary does not lie."

Sinclair slapped the chair back and shook his head. "I don't believe in reincarnation, Delenn…"

"It does not matter that you believe it, Jeffrey." She glanced at John and then walked across the floor to Sinclair. He watched her approach with narrowed eyes. When she was a mere step from him, his reared his head back and looked at her down the bridge of his nose. "What matters is that we believe it."

"Why did you let me go? What happened on the Line?" Jeff rasped.

"Look in your mind, Jeffrey and you will see the answer. You know Minbari law." Turning she addressed John. "Minbari cannot kill Minbari…it is forbidden. When we realized that Jeffrey housed the soul of Valen…we realized that the decrease in Minbari population could be attributed to a loss of souls to the humans. We could not kill our own. We called for a surrender. We wiped Jeffrey's mind so that he would not remember and released him."

Sheridan shook his head disbelievingly. "You surrendered because Jeff has a pure soul?"

"We surrendered because we could not kill ourselves."

Sinclair eased around the chair and sat down hard, staring up at Delenn. "I want to know everything, Delenn. I suspect that you know why I was chosen for Babylon 5."

"That is not important, Jeffrey."

"It is important, Ambassador," he spat out…using her title for the first time in a year. "At this point, you are talking about the last thirteen years of my life. Everything." He rose and towered over her. "Everything is important…and goddamn it…I want answers."

Delenn nodded, keeping her eyes trained on the tall Captain. "You were chosen for Babylon 5 so that I might keep an eye on you. If you were to remember the time on the Line, I was to kill you."

Sinclair crossed his arms over his chest and grimaced. "I guessed as much. Continue."

"And later, when we realized what Babylon 5 was…and where it was…and what it was serving as…we kept you here, against the orders of you government and against the better judgment of most of the Gray Council. We kept you here because of the prophecy."

"The Prophecy," Jeff nodded. "Right. Okay. Played with my life…with my mind…because of a few words written in an old book, Ambassador."

"You do the same with your Bible," she shot back. "Wars have been waged based on small passages in that book. Whole civilizations have been decimated because of that book and you choose to…judge me…on mine?"

Sheridan rose and quickly insinuated himself into the argument. "Stop…before another Holy Minbari-Human War starts in this room."

Sinclair glared at Sheridan but did not speak. John could see a small tick in the man's cheek. Delenn's eyes were bright with anger and sadness. He nodded at the both of them. "Jeff…sit the hell down. Delenn, tell us everything."

She sighed and glanced at Jeffrey sorrowfully. "I am your friend, Jeffrey…and this hurts me as it hurts you."

"I'll reserve judgment on my hurt until I have heard the whole story, Delenn." He answered quietly, walking across the floor to collapse into the chair.

Looking at John, she nodded.

**

Lennier leaned against the wall outside the war room and grimaced. And then, quietly, he slid down the wall to sit at the door. He was late and to enter now would cause more problems. He would remain as he was.

 **

Susan rubbed at her neck and nodded to G'Kar as he separated from her. One hundred nuclear warheads. Damn if that Narn was not the end all, she thought. Those bombs could definitely help with the defense of Babylon 5. She sighed as she approached the lift and looked at her wrist comm. Debating to call Jeff was not a good thought and she put it aside. Sometime he would contact her.

As she stood waiting for the lift, she heard footsteps and turned to see Garibaldi and Catherine walking up the corridor. Catherine was a good head shorter than Michael. She looked small and very feminine in the soft light of the hall. Ivanova tilted her head back and looked at the ceiling. Why do you hate me, God, she thought.

"Ivanova."

Susan turned and nodded to Garibaldi and to Catherine. "Garibaldi."

"You seen the Captain?"

"No."

Mike silently whistled and hung his head. Susan was edgy. When the doors to the lift slid open, the Russian Commander walked into the lift followed by Mike and Catherine. She thought that there was possibly a way that she would make it out of this situation with her temper and pride in tact when Catherine turned to glance at her.

"You are better dressed then the last time I saw you, Susan…you look good in black."

Raising an eyebrow, Susan glared at Catherine.

"You know…it is easy to fall for Jeff. He has that special type of personality that just attracts…"

"Hey…watch it," Garibaldi spat out, levering away from the wall. Susan held up her hand, though and stemmed his argument.

"Let her talk, Mike. She obviously has something to say to me."

Catherine smiled sour/sweet at Garibaldi and turned to Susan again. "That just attracts strong women. He's tall, dark, and deep… But you should know something about him, Ivanova…before you give your heart completely to him…"

"Who says I am even considering giving my heart to him?" Susan crossed her arms over her chest and returned the sickeningly sweet smile. "Who says I want to give him that honor?"

"I saw the look in your eyes, Commander. You are further gone than you know. But you should know that Jeff does this…he…runs. He runs from commitment. Every time he gets close to committing to me, he finds another woman and seeks to destroy the situation before it gets to that point. Trust me…I've known him for almost 16 years…he does this with regularity."

Ivanova shifted her weight and glared Catherine into continuing.

"When it gets involved, or when I come back…he drops the woman that he has been using, Commander."

"I see," Susan said as the lift stopped at her floor. She nodded, appearing very interested. When she reached the door, she turned. "Thanks, Mike."

"No problem, Ivanova," Garibaldi looked relaxed, but he was coiled. Ivanova could tell by the look in his eyes.

She made eye contact with Catherine and twisted her face in a parody of a smile. "I don't need commitment from Jeff. Never have. He is my friend. He is my commanding officer. Two things that are not affected by your relationship…or lack thereof…with him. I will thank you not to stick your head where it might get boot-kicked, Catherine. Now…if you are through…I believe that Mr. Garibaldi was escorting you somewhere…and I have duties." She let the door slide shut. The last thing she saw was the smile in Mike's eyes.

"Christ." She roared and turned on her heel to catch the next lift up to the command dome again.

**

Delenn folded her hands and glanced down at them. "The Prophecy, Jeffrey, affects my life as much as it affects John's and yours. But you, you are the nexus, the rock to which everything is tethered. You know Minbari society…three castes: Worker, Religious and Warrior. I lead the worker and the religious caste. Sheridan, John…embodies the warrior caste. But you…you are the mortar that holds the structure together."

Both Jeff and John sat motionless and stared at her. She continued.

"Babylon 5 was the place from prophecy. It is a place, in the reaches of the stars, that houses the warrior, the worker and the religious caste in harmony….united."

"Are you saying…" John asked, his voice almost dead. "That your and my…relationship is…because of a prophecy?"

Delenn glanced at Sheridan and nodded once. "It dictates that I must stay here with you, John. It did not say that I was to love you. That…that was…"

John waved his hand in the air to make her continue.

She obliged him. "The prophecy says that the rock would be strengthened and would stand for three years against the powers. At the end of the third year, the war of darkness would close in, tightening its noose. Desperation would befall those at the crossroads. The triad in two would fight the war with the bounty presented from the rock…but the rock…the rock would fall."

Jeffrey groaned and shook his head wearily. "Finish."

"A bosom part of the rock would be returned and he would travel the universe to seek his truth."

"And that is the prophecy…hell…that could be anyone or anything," John answered quietly.

"It could be…" Delenn said. "It could be if we did not know that Catherine was alive…"

"You what?!"

John leaned forward to press on Jeff's leg to keep him seated. He glanced upwards at his friend's eyes…seeing them seething in anger. When Jeff nodded in response to the pressure on his knee, and glared back at Delenn, Sheridan voiced the questions in his mind. "Delenn…you knew that Catherine was alive? You told us that anyone…anyone that landed on Zeta 1125…Z'ha'dum…was dead."

"Anyone that did not side with them…was dead and still remains dead, John." Delenn confirmed, nodding to the confused Captain.

"You lied to us," John grit out. He could feel Jeff's leg tense under his hand. A growl emanated from the younger Captain's throat before Sinclair found and used his voice.

"You lied to me."

Delenn lowered her head and stared at her hands for a moment. "And if I had told you that Catherine lived? That it was possible that she was working with the Shadows…was influenced by them…"

"You owed me…OWED me that much, Delenn. I have relied on you…trusted you as my friend, Delenn. And you knew….you knew that she was alive…all this time? And you didn't tell me?"

"You would have gone to Z'ha'dum before you were ready, before we were ready. You would have gone to her…"

"Yes."

"You would have placed the whole tide of this war in jeopardy."

Sinclair jumped up, knocking Sheridan's hand away from his leg. "Dammit, Delenn…cut the sanctimonious bullshit. This is a life of someone that I loved that we are talking about…regardless of whether you thought I would have left for Z'ha'dum or not…it was my decision…and mine alone…to make. I would have considered the options. But you…" he turned and pointed to her. "You removed that chance from me."

He stepped to his desk and put his fists down on the table, leaning over it. "Dammit Delenn."

John stood and approached his friend. "Jeff…"

"Don't get in the middle of this, Sheridan."

John shook his head. "I can't stay out."

"Then stay the hell away from me," with a vicious turn, he faced Delenn again. "I have no choice in any of this, obviously, do I, Delenn? Every move of my life for the last ten years has been planned, mapped, by the whole damn Minbari race. Mapped, planned and totally removed from my direction. I have no choice."

Delenn's eyes were filled with tears. "What is predestination, Jeffrey…what is the basis of your faith? You believe that a man is destined to be holy or damned from before the time they are born. And yet…you believe in free will…the actions are not controlled…they are simply foretold."

"You knew Catherine was alive. You didn't tell me. You tell me now that my life was and is the execution of a blueprint of a prophecy. It was not under my control. It was not my decision. It was not anything that I could direct. There is no free will there, Delenn. That is the difference. Do you know what the war and my missing time did to me? Do you know what Catherine's disappearance did to me?"

"Do you remember what you told me when I informed G'Kar that we allowed his world to be destroyed…millions for billions?"

Sinclair closed his eyes in pain. "It still hurts, Delenn."

She bowed her head.

"And I can't forgive it."

Her head bobbed after a minute as she showed that she understood.

Jeff's voice grew still lower. "I am only a man, Delenn." He lifted his head and glanced at John. "Sheridan…"

"Go on, Jeff. I'll find you later."

Sinclair nodded and walked past Delenn, steering clear not to rub against her and past John who leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets. They remained as they were until the sound of Sinclair's booted feet drowned away.

Delenn blinked and raised her head to glance at John. Sheridan's head was still hanging loose on his shoulders. He took a deep breath and sighed. "You did lie, Delenn."

"It was necessary, John. His life or billions of lives."

"And you lied to me. I thought we were falling in love."

"I do love you. For quite some time."

"But love is based on trust, Delenn. And I don't know if I can trust you. You lie too easily. Not to mention that you have injured, hurt a friend extremely deeply. I've come to love Jeff as my brother."

She nodded.

"I need time to think about all of this. Is there anything more that you are hiding from me?"

She took a deep breath and shook her head. "That is all that I know."

John sadly shook his head. "I can't talk to you right now, Delenn. Don't look for me…I'll find you."

Without another word, the Captain walked through the door and into the dark corridor beyond. Delenn folded her hands in her lap and tried to meditate but found that the simple and rhythmic fall of her tears and the powerful pain of her heart.

**

"Captain Sinclair."

Jeff heard his name and sighed. His hand lifted to rake through his hair. It was shaky. Stephen watched the move and shook his head. He could see the stress fracture lines in the man. Turning, the look on the Captain's face made Franklin cringe. "What is it, Franklin?"

"I have the results of the tests."

With a grunt, Jeff nodded and held out his hand. "Let's go to my office."

The two officers were quiet until they reached the peace of Jeff's office. Sinclair entered and strolled to the window. His continued silence forced Stephen to be the first one to break it. He laid the flimsies down on the desk. "She is Catherine Sakai, Jeff."

Sinclair glanced up at his own reflection in the window, but remained quiet. He could see his brown eyes wide with fear, sadness…pain. Franklin sighed and glanced back down at the reports that he had brought in with him. "Everything about her is healthy…the psych screen, the hormonal and chemical profiles…everything except a few well-placed small scars under her hair on the back part of her skull."

Jeff turned slowly and leaned back against the plexiglass. "Well placed scars?"

"Well, sir…" Stephen picked up an xray and picture of Catherine. After glancing at Jeff, he walked forward and held up the reports in front of him. "This is an xray of one of the telepaths that we intercepted last year…this is a picture of Catherine's scars. If we match them up…"

Jeff reached out and took the flimsies and held them up to the light. After a moment, he lowered them and glanced at Stephen. "They line up…she had those implants…"

"Yes."

Jeff groaned as he slapped down the flimsies. "Thank you, Franklin."

"Do you want to know any of the other results, Sinclair?"

"I don't need to see any other results."

Franklin backed off as Jeff growled and swung around to walk to the door of the office. "And…do you want me to leave her under my care?"

"No. Transfer her to my care. I will be responsible for her."

Stephen opened his mouth but found that he could say nothing. Jeff was gone in a flurry of uniform and stamping feet.

**

Jeff leaned against the wall outside Susan's quarters and took a deep breath. His head was on his arm and he leaned into the bulkhead. He wanted the strength in the metal. With a grimace, he realized that he wanted Susan. That flash of bright insight had lead him to her door. He realized that his hand shook from exhaustion as he reached out to punch in the security code for her quarters. When the door opened, he entered, head down, eyes almost closed. He could already feel her arms around him. He could already hear her clear alto voice asking rational questions, seeking needed answers.

But he found her quarters empty.

For a moment, he was lost. Then, with a groan, he turned and headed for the observation dome.

**

He could see her through the door: her slim form outlined against the cold, impersonal stretch of space. She still wore her uniform, perfectly, buttoned to the neck and fastened tightly. He smiled for a moment, and let two midshipmen press past him into the observation dome before he walked in the door.

"Release control of your ship on my mark. Mark."

Her voice was calm, cool…like a waterfall, he thought. His hands wrapped around the metal bar lining the well. He leaned on it momentarily, letting it take his weight. He had found her.

"Transfer the Tripoli…" Susan turned and saw Jeff leaning on the bar and stopped her orders only for a moment. "…to docking bay alpha 8 and tell the Lionlay that she can leave in an hour."

"Yes, sir."

Sinclair met her eyes and stared at her. He couldn't look away. Her face, her bearing, her eyes were so…calm. The ice blue gaze that she presented him with was like water to an arid desert: refreshing and cooling. Cooling to his angered temper; cooling to his swirling mind. He wanted nothing more than to walk across the space and embrace her as against regulations as it was.

"Captain."

"Commander."

Both of their voices were barely above the sound of his heartbeat.

Susan spun and punched another code into the console. He let his eyes fall to the well, to watch his junior officers move and work. After a moment, he spoke. "Commander Ivanova…I would like to have a word with you in my office."

With a nod, she continued to punch codes into the console. "Yes, sir."

"Immediately."

"Aye, sir." With a nod, she completed her entry of codes and turned to address Corwin. "Lieutenant Corwin?"

When Corwin walked forward to take her position, she relinquished it easily. "The Penople is ready for docking. The Minbari caravan is waiting. I will be in Captain Sinclair's office."

She walked around the well and approached Jeff. He watched her approach with eyes mirroring his inner feeling that Ivanova was someone he could trust to never change. She did represent to him an immutable and warm friend who would not abandon him. What Delenn had told him had cut him to the core; the physical evidence that Catherine was working with the Shadows hurt him soul deep. But Ivanova…Susan…strong, stable Susan warmed his soul and strengthened his core by her simple nature of his friend, lover and…. Jeff sighed as he stepped aside to allow her to walk past him to the door. He loved her. There was no doubt in his mind. She was his love and lover.

He followed her out the door and down the short hall to his office. Her long hair was unbound, swinging in tandem with her steps. Her head was held high; her step was clipped. He admired the way that she carried herself, both as a man that knew the gyrations of her body in the heat of passion and as a commanding officer who know her abilities as an officer. She commanded respect. His lips curved in a warm grin as they rounded the door into the quiet and privacy of his office.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Catherine is Catherine," he whispered, not even bothering to walk to his desk. He leaned back against the wall next to the door as he heard it slip shut in the hall.

Ivanova nodded and lowered her head, lacing her hands together in front of her. "I guessed as much."

He lowered his head as well. "There is evidence of scarring on the back of her skull that holds a remarkable similarity to the implant paths that we saw in the telepaths."

Susan grimaced and sighed. "Damn. I had hoped that was not the case. I'm sorry, Jeff."

He nodded. "I know. I know you are; I know you hadn't hoped. I had hoped at worst it was her; I hoped at best it was a convincing clone. But it is her. Franklin says there is no doubt."

Ivanova turned and faced the window. She set her chin and sighed. Her first instinct was to return to duty or her quarters. But either way, Sinclair and Catherine would find her. "What can be done for her? Is there any…"Susan reached out a hand to lean on the window sill as she continued. "…any way to reverse the damage?"

"I don't know. It was not discussed. I had Franklin turn her over to my custody."

Susan shivered at the dead quality of his voice. The usually deep, warm and reassuring tone of his vociferation was gone, replaced by an endlessly empty echo. It was not him. It was not the man that she had come to know and care for in the last year. "Does she know?"

"That she is being used? No. The Catherine that I knew would not allow a Shadow within five miles of her let alone allow them in her mind. No way."

Ivanova squinted and lifted her hand to press it against the cool plexiglass of the window. She could see the life on the other side of the barrier, but she couldn't touch it. Green represented warm sunshine to her, and yet the glass was dead cool to her touch. "Then they must have forced her. Christ."

She heard his sigh. "I don't want to think about that."

"You might have to. If they did it to her, Jeff…they might have done it to the whole ship. I don't want to think about it either. But that might explain a fair amount…"

"Stop thinking about tactics for a moment."

"That is what I do best, Sinclair. That is what you came looking for me now for, wasn't it? Cool head? Steady thinking? Do you want me to change what I am? "

"You were in my mind again."

"You projected, Jeff. It was like a scream in my head. It was all I could hear, like an echo in an empty hall. It was all I saw from you."

"Then you know I want you over here. God damnit, I have to be projecting that too."

She nodded and lowered her hand to lay it against the window frame. "You are." With a deep sigh, she turned and glanced at him. "You are. I could tell you that without being in your mind."

He lowered his chin and glanced at her with soft eyes. "Drop the Commander for a little while, Susan. I want your cool head and steady thinking, but…. I have more to tell you, but I need you over here." He removed his hands from his pockets and walked over to her. His hands on her hips steadied him in the sea of twisting thoughts that his life had suddenly become. She allowed his gentle pull and tightening grip and even eagerly wanted his lips when he lowered his head to cover her mouth with his. The kiss was gentle and reassuring. Her hands rose to press against his sternum, however, to get him to pull away a little. Jeff lowered his forehead to press it against hers.

"There has to be a reason." She pointed out, quietly, as if not sure of the reaction that the words would garnish.

"I know."

"Why did she come back? Why did they send her now?"

"I don't know. The only thing I can think of is that it has something to do with Sector 86."

"That makes sense. Sideways logic and self-centered at best, but that would fit their previous…"

"Logic…"he laughed emptily.

"Logic. Sideways, riddled with holes, and circular…but it is their frame of logic. Sometimes it seems like they are God, or at least think that they are God."

"They are at least a million years ahead of us in evolution…in some ways…they are God."

Susan sighed and lowered her eyes to glance at the center of Jeff's chest. "Get back on topic, Jeff…if Catherine…" she shook her head and grunted. "If Catherine is here not by chance and not by a simple stroke of good luck that she is still alive…then it remains that the Shadows sent her. If Delenn's information is correct…"

Jeff groaned." Delenn…"

With wary eyes, Ivanova skipped over the obvious question at hand and continued on her previous line of thought. "If her information is correct that leaves two other avenues to investigate…one…she is working with them…which leads to two other eventualities: they are helpful and we are wrong about them, or they are as we think of them…evil. Two, she is not working with them and was forced, coerced into this present line of action. Either way…"

"Either way…" Sinclair sighed, nodding in agreement. "Either way, I want to rip them limb from limb. Those scars…they had to have…"

Ivanova slowly nodded. She stared at him, in his eyes for a long time as he just stood, soaking in the silence. When she had let it go on as long as she could, she quietly issued: "I suspected as much. I'll do what I can to help."

He smiled with little effort and lifted his hand to stroke down her cheek. "Can I ask for a favor?"

"You know you can…as a friend…as my commanding off-"

"As your lover?" he asked, quietly.

"Yes."

"Look into my mind…help me…figure this all out…where I am going…where I know I am going…everything…just seems…."

"I can't do that…"

"Yes, you can…I trust you…I need you…to"

"Jeff…."

"Please?"

She rolled her eyes and lifted her hand to brush back his hair. With an exasperated sigh that made him smile, she laid her hand on his sternum and closed her eyes.

Susan's mouth slackened as she lowered her barrier and entered her lover's mind. She only entered it on nights when their passion was at its height, when she ached to feel the emotion echoed back into her mind. Her mind felt the press of stress, of anger, of the attack that he had suffered the last two days. The pain of seeing Catherine…but…she squinted her eyes…it was not the pain of seeing his old love…it was pain at letting herself go from his arms. She saw the sanctuary that she was to him…the way that he craved her…in his arms…in his life…his bed and under his command. She could feel the lessening of pain in his aura as she delved into the core of his mind to find his thoughts…his drive….and she found…

Warmth so profound that it made her legs weak…tenderness…ache…craving…worry…laughter…and the understanding and happiness of a man accepted as himself. And…admiration…friendship…attraction…she saw her face in his mind's eye…beneath him as he brushed her hair back one night in the depth of the dark. His finger traced her nose, circled her lips…touched her chin. His voice, different tone, deeper as if heard internally, filtered to her mind: "I don't know what I would do without you, Susan. You are everything to me now."

Her eyes flew open. "When?"

"The night before you left for Sector 86." His eyes, when he glanced down at her were full of pain.

She closed her eyes again and allowed images to float into her mind from his. She allowed his…love…to permeate her. It was more tempered than his passion, but older, stronger, rooted and based in friendship. She sighed, happily, against her better judgment. This is the feeling she wanted from another human being. The feeling of absolute and unconditional acceptance. And the feeling that she was not alone and never would have to be again. Pressing forward, she searched for his drive…to help him…but found only pieces of thoughts. As she nodded and pulled back from his mind, she caught a stab of pain from him…and saw Delenn's face float to the surface. John followed closely behind and she saw a younger, weaker and abused Jeffrey Sinclair tied to a triangle with Minbari talking around him. With a gasp, she opened her eyes and speared him with a glance.

"What else, Jeff…tell me everything…or in love with me or not….you are a dead man."

 **

The main room of the Minbari ambassadorial suite was dark. Only a single candle lit to serve as a prayer object split the impending doom. An object on which to concentrate for prayer. It didn't help. Delenn found that she could not pray. She couldn't think. A friend hurt and the friendship ruined beyond repair. A lover ripped asunder and left her to flail in the waters of despair by herself.

She raised her hand and whispered. "I stand between the candle and the star."

All she could picture was Jeffrey's face twisted in pain. All she could feel was the pain in her heart, a stab in her chest when she saw John turn away from her in that room.

"We are gray."

The Gray Council was where she had begun this journey. The Gray Council was where she had been, newly inducted with Dukat had died in her arms. The Gray Council was where she had order the warrior caste to kill each and every human until their race was wiped out. The Gray Council was who had captured Jeffrey Sinclair and had ordered him tortured. It was they that translated the triluminary. It was they that interpreted the prophecy and sent her to Babylon 5 to watch this new, mysterious race and this reincarnated Valen.

It was they that had left her here after her change, turning their backs on her.

Gray. Not black, not white. Separatist and undecided. She had destroyed them. Before they could destroy her, destroy John destroy Jeffrey.

"I am light."

She wanted John. With a groan, she lowered her hand and lowered her head to lay upon her arm. The suite remained dark, but it filled with the groans and soft cries of a woman in pain.

With a deep breath, he continued. "Delenn told me of my missing time. The time on the Line…"

Ivanova's head whipped back on her neck. "What? I thought you remembered.."

Sinclair nodded and raised his head to fix his gaze on her. "I was taken on a Minbari cruiser and tortured. They checked my…soul…I’m not even sure that I subscribe to this idea…with a triluminary. They say I have a Minbari soul. She says I have Valen's…"

He swallowed and continued, knowing that she was holding back an argument. "Wait, Susan. There is more. They stopped the war because they could not kill themselves…it is forbidden in their religion. Minbari souls…Minbari bodies…it’s the same thing to them. And…and…" Ivanova's eyes widened as Jeff stuttered and swallowed. "She knew Catherine was alive. Alive, Ivanova. All this time, she knew and didn't tell me. Says that because of a prophecy, she couldn't allow me to enter danger prematurely."

"Delenn says I am part of a prophecy. My placement here on Babylon 5 was orchestrated by the Minbari and she was here to watch me. Thirteen fucking years of my life, Susan. Every fucking thing I have done on Babylon 5."

"I don't know if I believe it all…but I do believe that she believes it and that everything has been manipulated. My friendships, my relationships….me."

Susan blinked and shook her head slowly. His hand was clenching at her back holding her against his chest. She could feel the trembling in him. "I don't know if I believe it at all."

"That is my Susan. Thank God, you never change."

"So she thinks you are some reincarnated God?" Ivanova smiled and then grimaced. "Jeff…you are great in bed, a wonderful man and an outstanding officer, but God…that is reaching."

"She said it, not me."

Susan leaned back against his arms and slid her hands up his chest. "But it hurt you…"

"It hurt that she used me. It hurt that she was my friend…a close one…and that was orchestrated. I relied on her. I cared about her."

"Delenn is an honest being, Jeff."

"As honest as a Minbari can be. If she is truly my friend, Susan…it would be worse that she could use me like this. I don't want to discuss this."

"Fine….then talk about what she said. Does it match your memories?"

"All I remember is the pain. I don't believe that at all….about the triluminary. I…don't know what to believe about the rest."

With a sigh, Ivanova nodded. He raised his hand to tilt back her chin. "The only thing I believe right now, Ivanova…is in you. Delenn just screwed with my thoughts, my very memories about my life. She has thrown a wrench into everything that I believe about my religion…and she has destroyed the foundation of trust that I had in her. I can't trust her any longer, Susan. I saw the hurt on John's face…it cut him to the bone. Trust is paramount to him…I know he is devastated…he loved her. And Catherine…I just laid her to rest in my life and my mind and here…she is back…as a tool of manipulation. But you…you and Mike…I chose Mike out of friendship to come here with me. And you…you…are strong, a great officer and a wonderful friend…and make sex mean something more than bodies slapping together on a bed. You never change. I can trust you, and in you and your thoughts and drives…motives. That is what makes me care about you like I do."

She opened her mouth, but he lowered his head before she could talk. His kiss was soul deep and searching. For what she didn't know, but it was obvious that he found something in her. His hands tightened and all she could feel was his chest, his legs and his arms like iron around her. After several long minutes, he pulled away and nudged her nose with his. For the first time in her life, she found she couldn't say anything; she had no words for her feelings. He accepted the silence.

As he leaned in to kiss her again, his wrist comm chirped. "Christ."

"You had better answer it, Sinclair," Ivanova breathed as he pressed a quick kiss against her lips.

He lowered his hands from her back and lifted his comm to his mouth. "Yes." He whispered with exasperation.

"There is a message here from a Catherine Sakai, Captain Sinclair. She says that it is important and needs your immediate attention, sir."

"No doubt…thank you." He ended the conversation quickly with a slap of his hand to his wrist comm. "Damn."

"I don't think I should come with you, Jeff, it might cause more problems than it would help."

"I agree. Damn. I was hoping to have a little more time when nothing was going wrong…"

"You'll have it…just not now." Susan moved away from him. "I'll be on the comm if you need me."

He nodded and sighed, letting her go.

At the door she turned and nodded back to him. "And Jeff? Thank you. You are one of the few men I trust; it means a lot that you…"

Sinclair inhaled and smiled. "Don't ever doubt it. I told you before I’m not going anywhere."

Ivanova suppressed a wide grin. "I won't. And…I care about you too."

Before he could answer, Susan had breezed through the door to the main corridor and was gone. Jeff stared at where he had last seen her flowing hair and black clad form. He sat down in his chair that was near him and sighed. Those last five words from Susan had made his knees shake. Susan Ivanova cared about him…and for some reason that knowledge made him weak.

***

Catherine waited near the entrance to Jeff's quarters. She had opted to wear one of the larger shirts that the man owned and nothing else. She might have a chance to sway Jeff to see things from her point of view. It had not been part of the plan that he would be involved with another woman. With a sigh, she smoothed the dark gray material against her breasts and leaned against the bar. And it had definitely not been part of the plan that he would be involved with Susan Ivanova.

She remembered what Susan had been like when Catherine had first started seeing Jeff again on Babylon 5. Ivanova had been an extremely capable officer, a woman that kept to herself and seemed to be all business and very little pleasure. She had known that Susan had captured Jeff's interest as a pilot and a as a superior officer; Ivanova was a warrior's woman. But she had not known that Sinclair would have fallen for her. And it was obvious that he had fallen for Susan…

His stance, the way that he was holding Susan when Catherine had first stumbled in the door.

The way that he remained aloof from herself…that had never happened before…he would always want to hold her, talk with her…and yet…he remained stable and apart.

The way that he watched Susan…and the way that his eyes softened when he spoke kindly of her; the way that his eyes hardened when someone spoke ill of her.

It was obvious to her. Christ, Catherine thought viciously, he was in love. Without a doubt.

But there was always sex, where love might fail, she thought with a grimace. And Jeff Sinclair could never turn down a great roll in the hay with her….he had never since the Academy.

She turned to pour some more scotch and heard the door behind her slide open.

"Catherine."

The deep timbre of his voice had been the same since the Academy and still made her weak-kneed. "Jeff…finally home, I see. Always were one for long work days."

"I was talking with Susan."

"Not Ivanova….or Commander Ivanova…just Susan?"

"She is all three….interchangeable."

Catherine turned from the bar and spied her old lover standing just inside his door. His uniform jacket was still firmly clasped and his arms were crossed over his chest. He had slimmed, she decided. I like it, she thought next. "Want a drink?"

"No." Jeff's gaze fell to her legs. "Wanting something else, Captain Sakai?"

"You do."

"No, I don't. Catherine…" he sighed and shook his head. "You have been gone for the last two years. My life has gone on…"

"And this life includes Susan."

"My life includes what it does. Why is your interest in her?"

"Your interest is in her."

Jeff nodded. "It is."

"Finally an admission."

"You spoke of the Shadows, Catherine…of what good they are capable. Of what they are able to give to us…to everyone," Jeff said slowly, walking through his quarters.

"I'll tell you if you will just sit down and talk to me and not around me, Jeff." Catherine swirled the small glass of scotch in her hand and walked to the couch. Sitting down, she crossed her legs and smiled as Jeff's eyes centered on her feet. "Get into some comfortable clothes, Captain."

He grimaced and reached up to unlatch his collar. Then, without looking at her more, he breezed past her and into the bedroom. He closed the doors and lowered his head. Catherine had always been an attractive woman…but for some reason, her exotic skin and dark eyes, which had always drawn him to her in the past, seemed dull now.

His hand pulled at the collar to completely loosen the neck. Her eyes weren't blue, he decided, and that was a problem. Her skin was not Susan's pale almost cream on peaches tone…he shook his head again…there was no comparison. None. Perfection had a name in his mind now…and its name was Susan Ivanova.

His hand unzipped his jacket.

The small picture of he and Susan dancing, taken at Malcolm's wedding, sat on his desk under the reading lamp. He picked it up and stared at it. That crazy kilt he had worn; the incredibly sexy green dress that Susan wore. She was smiling at him loosely, her hands laying on his shoulders. His arms were around her waist and he was talking to her with a smile on his face. They looked happy.

With a sigh, he put down the picture, feeling lost without its cold, shiny metallic surface in his hands. That picture, he thought, had been taken before he knew Catherine was dead. And still, he had his arms firmly around Ivanova's waist, holding her tightly. He couldn't think of when he had first started to CARE about her. It just seemed to have always been there. He had then…a year ago…but even more so now. So much more so now. She was his friend, his lover, and in some ways, his strength. He not only craved her, he realized, in his bed and on the bridge of the station, but he also cared deeply for her. And that need, want and caring made the difference between her and Catherine.

He walked across the room and faced the window.

Friends, he thought. Delenn, he growled under his breath as he shrugged out of the open jacket. He felt the anger bubbling up through his body as he thought of his friend. How could she do such a thing? Plan his life. Force his life down a path…make him think Catherine was dead. And tell him that he was a reborn prophet. Mess with his beliefs…

With another groan, he lowered the jacket away from his bare chest. Catherine was standing in his living room, talking of Shadows and life….Vorlons and death. I'm in shock at seeing her alive, he realized. The only way that I can handle this is to treat her as though she never left. But she had. And she had traveled to a damned world with the very demons of hell as her proclaimed friends. She lived by their hands.

Catherine said that the Shadows were her friends. She talked of knowing the reason behind this war. He knew what he saw. He knew to look at the actions and not the propaganda. His father had taught him well. There was something more to this war than what he was being told, but he also knew that the Shadows were not allies to humans. No, this war was based in something beyond the scope of what he knew. But it still was a war that had to be fought. And it was a war that was threatening his home, his station…his purpose.

A war that threatened Babylon 5…his friends, his loves…

Susan. Mike. John. Stephen. G'Kar.

And thousands of others.

Catherine wanted him to go to Z'ha'dum to talk with the Shadows and understand the other side of the equation. He knew that. He picked up the blue shirt that Susan had given to him on his last birthday and donned it with a wistful smile.

He could go to Z'ha'dum and do what he wanted to do for the last year…take the bastards out where they lived. Something about revenge always made him feel warm and tingly.

As he walked back across the floor towards the door , he recalled Kosh's words: go to Z'ha'dum and he would die.

He stopped with his hand on the door. Death. Mike had talked to him about it once…that he ran into trouble headlong and without thought…looking to die. That all he needed to give his life meaning was death. He knew now that death was only meaningful when it was given in the service of fellow men, but death never truly gave meaning to life.

With one last glance, he looked at the picture. Susan looked wonderful with her wide blue eyes and easy smile. He wanted her to live long enough to have a lifetime of smiles.

Pushing open the door, he leaned out and asked: "Catherine? Tell me about the Shadows."

**

John stood on the center observation deck, facing wide open space. His arms were tucked securely into the small of his back; his legs were wide and braced. The black uniform that he wore blended with the black of night that surrounded the station. He appeared part of the darkness and yet the essence of starstuff..shining and bright with a power that exploded from inside.

Sheridan had never been a man to trifle with; blessed few people had tried, and even fewer boasted of surviving an encounter with him. He was a warrior that faced a battle like others faced their morning breakfast. He was a Captain of a vessel that had scoured the stars, the rim, in search of new life and new races.

He was a man that loved women and he was the man that hurt them, not the other way around.

John sighed and watched the gently twisting space with a sadness that permeated his being. Yeah, he thought. I'm the one that leaves first; I'm the one that never lets a woman close to me…not really. Marry them and get them in bed. Profess love, but look around at others…because you never know.

Love hadn't existed to him. Not really…not in the way that really mattered, that really made his heart swell and his mind swirl.

Until tonight.

Until Delenn had admitted lying to him, to Jeff, and admitted to living a life that was concocted, contrived and controlled. Until she had admitted that it was part of her government's directive that she remain with him. That she stay with him.

It hadn't been her decision, quite possibly it had not been her want.

John's expressive mouth twisted as he bit the inside of the lip. His eyes squinted as he stared out at the night. No, love had never really existed to him until the moment that he felt it ripped away. In that instant, the instant of pain so sharp that tears sprung to his eyes, he realized that he had loved her the way that he had never loved before…completely.

You never know what you have until it's gone he mused. And then it is too late.

He shrugged and pulled the muscles in his back taut.

"Sheridan?"

John started as Jeff walked up along side of him. The other officer didn't glance at his friend, opting instead to stare out at the swirling space as John was.

Sheridan frowned and faced the stars again. "Jeff…you talk with Susan?"

"Yes."

Both men stood in silence as the station made two rotations, the stars swirling quietly.

"Did you talk with Delenn?"

John scowled. "No."

Sinclair nodded. "I talked with Catherine as well."

"I figured as much…"

With a quick turn, Jeff faced his friend. "There has been no change…"

Sheridan agreed, his eyes still scanning the space out the window. "You checked with Marcus in the war room, too, I take it. No, there has been no change. The situation is still red. Most of the fleet will not at full strength for another week at least."

"At least," Jeff sighed with a nod. "Our personal lives go down the toilet, our home is threatened and our jobs are tougher than they have ever been…typical."

Sheridan groaned at the poor humor. "Yeah… typical. We never could do things the easy way."

Sinclair chuckled sourly for a second before he sobered. "You know what has to be done, John."

"I was hoping to avoid it…" Sheridan answered. "Whoever travels to Z'ha'dum would not come back again. But, apparently, that is rapidly becoming our only option to use."

Jeff smiled. "Makes deciding on a way out that much easier, Johnny. I think I have a way to get to the hell."

"I'm not going to like it."

"Hell no…" Sinclair answered, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Catherine says that I will have an escort to Z'ha'dum. They want me there in one piece to talk to them. Say that if it was not me, it would be someone else running the show…so they would rather work with me than have to start over with someone else…"

"Christ…" Sheridan groaned and turned. "No, Jeff."

"Look…we don't have a hope in hell if we don't take them out where they live, Sheridan. You know that; I know that. Next time they show up on our doorstep will be the last time anyone on this station breathes, you know that. I know that. I can't allow that to happen."

"I'm not going to argue with the situation; I'm arguing with the solution. No, Jeff…you are not going."

"Under what authority are you going to remove my ability to do that?" Sinclair rumbled.

"You are needed here."

"Susan can run the station. Garibaldi can man the fighter wings."

"Delenn…"

"Don't bring that argument up, Sheridan…I don't subscribe to anything that she has said. Everything she has said in the last three years is suspect until proven true. This is a card hand we have been dealt, Sheridan…better up the ante or back the hell out."

John opened his mouth and then lowered his head. "You'll just go anyway…that is one thing about you, Sinclair, that you have never lost…your ability to run into trouble headlong and think about ramifications later. I would not want to be your life insurance company."

"And how are you any different, John?"

"I'm not…that is how I know you so well," Sheridan groaned. "Okay, fine…it is the only answer we have now. But we had better go in there with guns blazing…"

"We…"

"We. I'm going with you, Jeff. Damn if I am going to let you go alone."

"Fine. Fine…." Jeff nodded.

"I'm sticking to you like glue, Sinclair…I don't trust you not to just run off. Let me get some fire power together on the QT and meet you at…"

"At the Revelation. Love that ship."

Sheridan grinned. "War office…one hour, Sinclair."

Jeff nodded solemnly and turned to walk out the door. He stopped when John called out to him. "Yeah?"

"If Delenn was correct…" John's voice cracked on Delenn's name and Jeff bowed his head, knowing his friend was hurt. "If Delenn was correct Jeff…and what was said about Z'ha'dum and you is true…"

Sinclair remained quiet for a moment, staring at his friend. Then he let his eyes drift to look out the window. Space swirled as the station slowly turned. He searched his mind and his heart for an impact that the words held for him. There was none…only peaceful silence that echoed him back. It was reminiscent of his time with the Jesuits. "Then I lived a full life," Jeff said quietly. "I have no regrets."

"Will you tell Susan?"

Again Jeff stayed quiet for a few minutes. Her name brought an acute pang to his heart. "No. At least not before I leave. She would present an argument, or want to go with us. And I can’t allow the latter, and have no time for the former."

"You are partially going for her."

"Yes."

John nodded. Jeff slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "And you…will you tell Delenn?"

"No. Not before we leave."

"Will you talk to her before you go? Forgive her?"

"No. I already have forgiven her for what she has said about she and I…"

Sinclair nodded once. "War room in an hour, John." Then he turned on his heel and left John to face the dark of the night alone.

 **

Garibaldi looked down at the flimsy and over the desk to Sheridan and Sinclair. Both of them stared back at him almost stoically. It was only a faint ticking in Sinclair's cheek that made him realize that they were still living, breathing men and not idiotic statues. "You can’t be serious."

"I've never been more serious," Jeff answered lowly. He nodded to the flimsy. "I know you, Mike…you ought to be able to get that on the Revelation without notice."

"Hell yeah…I can…what is a couple of nuclear warheads? It would only take a couple of well placed calls on the comm…but Ivanova…"

"You can't tell her, Garibaldi," Sheridan answered, leaning forward on the desk. Mike squinted at the older Captain before he returned his gaze to Jeff. "Susan can reroute…"

"You can't tell her, Mike. If you tell her, she would want to know why we are arming the Revelation like that. And I couldn't lie to her." Sinclair leaned forward on the desk, on his elbows.

"You are arming it to go to Z'ha'dum, right?" Garibaldi nearly spat. "I heard that conversation as well, you know, Jeff. Kosh told you you would die if you went there."

Jeff nodded. "That remains to be seen, Mike."

"Damn it, Jeff…"

Sinclair put down his hand gently on the desk and grimaced. "I will never ask another thing of our friendship, Mike. I have never asked you for anything like this as a friend…but I am asking now. Arm the Jihad…tie up security so we can do this. Let us do what we need to do…"

Garibaldi opened his mouth. He knew that anyone who took up this cause was a dead man…like carrying the flag into battle…like carrying the colors…anyone who went would be buried and honored, not welcomed back and celebrated. Jeff was staring at him across the desk, his hand rhythmically tapping on the surface, like a metronome measuring off paces of a dead man to his execution. John was transfixed on him as well, but his intensity was a little less than Jeff's. It was as it should be…there was less history between them.

Sinclair had never asked anything of their friendship; he had only offered. Mike knew that. He also knew that he did not want to return the favor by helping the man to his death…but his death would be what it was. He didn't want the last time he saw his friend to be him climbing on a shuttle to rendezvous with a ship that would sail him to his death. But…

Was there really any other way to see his friend? They were soldiers, friends, and career military. This is what they did for a living. Jeff wouldn't be able to live with himself if he lived and those under his charge died without he being able to do everything that he could.

It was the same for him…for Mike.

"I can have it aboard in two standard hours…is that acceptable?" Garibaldi asked, his eyes not leaving Jeff's.

Sinclair knew what it was costing his friend to do this…he knew deep down the bond of friendship between them had forged strong and nearly unbreakable. With a nod, he accepted what his friend was giving him: the ability to do what he needed to do without regret. John answered for the both of them.

"That is better than expected, Mike."

Mike laid his hand on the desk and extended a finger to point at Sinclair. "Don't make me regret this, Jeff."

Sinclair knew there was more to it than what was being said. The words said everything that could ever be said between them. With a small smile, he answered, just as simply and just as poignantly: "Never, Mike."

**

Susan turned from the main console just in time to see Jeff enter the dome. He was dressed in his black uniform, but she could see that he now wore his shirt underneath now. His pace slowed as she faced him, but he still continued forward to the bar. With a nod to her, he looked around at the other officers on the bridge.

She shivered with the poignant way that he made eye contact with every one of his personnel. Until the last one's eyes were met and he lifted his gaze to her. Across the distance, his eyes looked black, not brown…and so very endless that she felt like she was being pulled into a warp. He was intense…without saying a word. He was the embodiment of strength…of direction.

Sinclair pushed away from the bar and walked forward to the window. He leaned forward, gazing at the open space in front of the viewport as if he were surveying his destiny, she thought. "Captain," she greeted him.

"Commander…how is the shift progressing?" he asked, quietly.

"Fine…everything is working on time…" she answered, leaning into the console. Her arms crossed over her chest. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." He answered, and appeared surprised himself at the answer. "I'm more than fine, Susan. I just wanted to stop by and see…"

"The shift? The docking schedules?" She uncrossed her arms and reached out to adjust a couple of knobs. "Things are working…better than usual if truth be told…"

"No…I wanted to stop by and see you." He answered, quietly. "To see how you were doing…"

She nodded. "I'm fine. Really."

"This Catherine…"

"We can talk about it later…" she waved a hand in the air. "I'm on duty and this is really not the place…"

"She is my past, Susan." Jeff said lowly and faced the viewport completely. "Only my past."

Ivanova's hand stilled on the controls for a moment. Her eyes squinted at the good feeling his words gave…it was hard to describe…like a bubble inflating and making her feel light. He turned to her and she lifted her eyes to meet his. "Part of your youthful indiscretions?"

"No…but" he smiled. "Definitely my past. I have a present."

She nodded, and crossed her arms over her chest. Her hip hit the console panel as she rested against it. Her smile was large when she fully faced away from the rest of the dome personnel. "Its funny…I have one as well…"

He frowned, appearing very interested and nodded. "Interesting that we both have a current placement in the time line…isn't it."

"Fate?" she asked, her hands falling to cross her back.

"Yes."

Jeff let his eyes scan the heavens one more time. "I will see you after your shift."

"I was planning on it…if…"

"I will be waiting for you," he answered, turning to her. His eyes were indeed endless, she thought. There were new lines on his face, one about his mouth and another almost etched into his forehead. "See you then…" he whispered, barely above the white noise of the machines around them.

Susan nodded and smiled, waiting until he walked a distance away toward the main door, before she looked up. He glanced at her one last time and moved out the door into the corridor. With a last, almost gentle smile, she turned back to the main console.

Jeff glanced at her through the glass of the door for several moments. In fact, until he realized that he was holding his breath. She looked beautiful against the stars…young and ready for anything. He had known that stopping and seeing her was not the best option for him. He knew that it would do this to him. Knew that it would create a pang in his chest that he would not be able to lose. But he had wanted to say something…anything to her to let her know that she was the person in his life now. He had to.

He had lied when he had said that there were no regrets in his life. He was going to regret leaving her. But it would not keep him on the station. Him staying on the station was like signing a death warrant for a quarter million people…and if he stayed…she, and he and the thousands of others would die. He would rather have her alive and without him, then dead with him. He looked at her one last time and smiled.

So this…this pain…this watching her and yearning to stay with her…this knowing he had to leave to keep her alive and healthy…this anger…this inability to do anything without thinking of her…this regret at leaving her…this deep, soul changing feeling…

Was love. This is what it felt like. This was the pain that everyone always said accompanied the profound happiness. This was the yin to the yang.

God he wished he had more time. With one last look, he turned and walked toward the blue sector and her quarters. He had a few things to take care of….

**

Mike squinted as he saw Jeff and John approaching him down the main hallway. They walked in tandem, timed, like a finely tuned cog in a machine. Jeff was slightly taller than John. His hair cycled back and forth between shiny and not as he marched underneath the lights. Even from a distance, Garibaldi could see the stress, see the tightness in Jeff's face. Sheridan's face was closed, determined, as he walked alongside his friend. They had purpose, they were purpose.

What the end was to the means that they were intending, however, Mike thought, was up for grabs.

As Sinclair approached, he nodded. "Catherine is on board."

Jeff nodded. John looked past Garibaldi's shoulder to the transport. The small woman's form could be seen in the doorway. "Is the weather well on Earth today, Mr. Garibaldi?" he asked, quietly.

Garibaldi recognized the code and knew the appropriate answer, but he restrained voicing it. Once he said the words, his friend…his friends…would leave.

Sinclair inclined his head and made a non-committal shrug. "I hear Boston is getting it pretty bad, Mike."

Garibaldi closed his eyes for a moment, and felt like running. Jeff was a good friend, a great friend, one that had proven himself over and over again in loyalty, in depth of giving, in…just being there. What his friend was suggesting would get him killed. But…

But…it was the only way. He knew that. But why did he feel that he was Abraham sacrificing his only child?

With an inaudible groan, he swallowed around the lump in his throat and nodded. "So I hear, Jeff, so I hear."

Sinclair sighed, keeping his head down. After a few moments, he lifted his head to look at his friend. Garibaldi was standing against the dark of the landing bay, his front was bathed in the light. Slowly, as if in a dream, Sinclair held out his hand for Mike to shake. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Garibaldi whispered. He nodded to the transport. "Get going. And come back."

Sheridan extended his hand and they shook. He smiled and clapped Mike on the shoulder as he walked by him. Jeff followed, more slowly. At the last minute, he turned around and glanced at his silent friend. Their eyes met and held for a time. Then, with a sigh, he rocked back on his feet and looked at the ceiling and then over Mike's shoulder to the filling corridor. "Take care of her, Mike."

"Ivanova or the station?" Garibaldi asked knowingly.

Jeff gave a half smile. "Both."

Mike grinned widely. "Take care…"

Sinclair nodded, stopping for a moment and then he took a deep breath. "You too…" Then, without another glance back, Jeff walked away and toward the transport. Garibaldi remained where he was, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his head down. It was a long time until he moved. Long after the transport had left the cocoon of Babylon 5.