Susan laid back against the cool cloth covering of the lounge. The woman behind her fussed with her long tresses, plaiting and braiding the lengths. It had been a long time since she had had anyone work with her hair; it was both relaxing and unnerving. She sighed and squinted her closed eyes.

"Does the sunlight bother you, dear?"

Ivanova grinned and opened her eyes to glance up at Mary. The older woman was clucking as she tried to tame some of the curly lengths of Susan's cinnamon hair into tight, hidden braids. "No…but it has been years since I have laid out in the sun."

"Some sun will do your skin a world of good, Susan," Mary answered, tilting her head as she finished a braid and began plaiting another section of her hair. "You are too pale."

"I'm Russian."

"And I'm Irish, but you don't see me runnin' for cover from the sun. Andromedian sun is easier on the skin than Earth's." Mary sighed and glanced down at her younger friend. "I thought you would rather have me play with your hair than one of them."

Ivanova inhaled and grunted. "I wasn't going to have anyone play with my hair, Mary. I'm not staying."

"But your friend sent you here for vacation…"

"This…" Susan opened her eyes and sat up slowly on the lounge. Her bare feet brushed against the cool tile beneath the chair. When Mary released her hair, she turned and stared at her new aquaintance. "This is not a vacation…this is…" her face twisted as though she had eaten something very bitter. "This is…torture."

"Laying about in the sun? Letting someone else do your hair? Getting dolled up? You have a strange vision of torture, darling."

"It is not that…it’s the night activities…" Ivanova turned and looked about the small plaza. Other women lay about on lounges, seats. Some had others doing their hair as Mary was doing hers. Others were having their nails done, and still others were having cosmetics applied. Each one wore a variation of what she herself wore: a silken conglomeration bra and panties with thin veils covering their shoulders, waist and thighs. Her own was a color somewhere between silver and lavender.

"Ah, the activities…" Mary grunted and sat down on the lounge next to her. "Susan, dear…the women here come to be pampered, and to spend time in luxurious surroundings. Men come here to be surrounded with beauty. It don't say anywhere that the two have to overlap and end where you are thinkin'. Sex is not forced here. If it was, I wouldn't be here."

"It's expected."

"By some, not by others. Women are treated well here…that is why it is a vacation spot…and if men are allowed to come in here….darlin'…don't you love feeling attractive and sexy? When the men come through, the looks of admiration from them are enough to make my heart sing. And the way you look…"

"I look like a hanger in a lingerie shop," Susan griped. "I wouldn't be here if the last transport had not left."

Mary sighed. This one girl had missed the admiration of men for a long enough time that she had forgotten what it was like to have a man pursue, chase, and woo. "Well then, it is only for one night, Susan Ivanova. You might as well enjoy it."

Ivanova grumbled and reached her hand up to touch at the plaits and braids. "Thank you for…"

"Honey, it is my pleasure…couldn't stand seeing hair as beautiful as yours back in that braid," Mary shook her head. "Better get going too…you are supposed to be at the cosmetics area on the other side of the plaza. You can come find me later…you know where my room is…"

Susan nodded and stood. "I do. See you later, Mary."

Mary answered with a quick nod and watched as her willowy friend moved off and towards the spring of ferns and palms near the fountain. She knew as sure as the sun would rise in the morning that Susan was going to avoid the cosmetics station. She didn't doubt that one bit. Ivanova was a stubborn one and was trying hard to remain civil. Sure enough, just before Ivanova made it to the main crossroads, she veered off and stepped to the secondary tile path that led to the meditation and reading garden.

"You would make my father proud," Mary sighed under her breath and stood.

**

Ivanova glanced over her shoulder and smiled. She had avoided the warpainters at the cosmetic area and she was alone. Turning back around, she reached out to move the oversized fern fronds out of her path and spied a small natural spring, rocks and various colorful plants. There was a cozy bench made of stone with a collection of colorful cushions on it. Tall palms and ferns hid the area from the various paths.

She sank onto bench and smiled. Cool water tumbling over rocks, peace and quiet, and solitude…now this was a vacation, she thought. Susan watched the falling water for a few moments, not particularly thinking of anything. She would be gone the next day, and all she had to do was remain aloof and apart until then. It was an easy thing to do, she decided.

Her nose twitched as she inhaled an intoxicating aroma. It was somewhere between a rose and honeysuckle, if not a little of both, she thought and rose from the bench to find the plant. A pair of ivory flowers rested against the pillar of rock in the center of the spring. She picked up her various tendrils of a skirt and stepped into the water to wade to the plant.

**

Jeff groaned as he spied the large collection of women in the plaza. It was midafternoon and he, like all the other men, were encouraged to enter into this sanctum. It was a beautiful place full of plants and tile and water gardens. It was easily the size of the gardens on Babylon 5. But he did not want to walk around this plaza like a buyer at a meat market. He wanted peace and quiet.

"Sinclair, old man…you are lagging."

The Commander turned and lifted his eyebrows at his companion. "I didn't realize you are keeping track of my whereabouts."

"Easy," Jared held up his hands and smiled. "Easy, Jeff. I was only hoping to show you the ropes in there. There is a certain…unspoken rulebook to follow."

Sinclair nodded and pursed his lips. This could prove interesting. "For instance?"

"For instance…if another man is actively pursuing a woman, unless he has asked to spend the evening with her, she is still fair game. If you ask a woman to spend the evening, it is expected that it will be in your quarters. Touching is not allowed in public. Although this is a 'paradise oasis', Andromedians do not agree with overt public sensuality. Women are to be pursued, admired and wooed in public; everything else is in private."

Jeff nodded. It made sense. He had yet to see another man touch a woman, Andromedian or not, in public. Touches were done in passing. "And if a woman turns a man down?"

"You don't actually think that a woman will turn you down, Sinclair? I don't think you will have a problem, newcomer or not…"

"I'm planning on spending my night alone, Jared," Sinclair answered. He nodded toward the main plaza. "There is no penalty if a woman turns down a man?"

"None."

Sinclair sighed. "Good. You go on, Jared…I want to walk slowly and get an idea of the situation here."

"Military, aren't you?" Jared shook his head. "Fine…but if you find a woman to spend the night with, have dinner with us."

"If I do spend a night with a woman, Jared, we'll have dinner with you," Jeff allowed, smiling. Jared returned the smile and the Earth Force Commander moved off toward the main plaza center.

As he approached the main plaza, Jeff spied a small path that led off to the side and into the plants. With a smile, he turned and walked between the low hanging branches. Once he bowed to miss the heavier plant life, he disappeared from the vision of the path and the main plaza. Now this, he thought was paradise. The sound of falling water attracted him and he walked slowly through the leaves and fronds. When the last of the fronds fell away, he found he was not alone.

A tall, slim woman stood in front of him, her back turned toward him. The clothes that she wore were a heavenly shade between silver and sunset lavender. Long black and cinnamon hair fell about her shoulders and back. It looked like silk in plaits. Her feet were bare and she stood about mid calf deep in the water of the spring.

He let his eyes trail from her hair and shoulders down her smooth back to her tight, well-formed buttocks. The material was silken, shiny and the way that the panties covered and cupped the muscles made him smile. He didn't want to get involved with a woman…hell…he had decided that he didn't even want to go through the effort of pursuing one. But this one…was beautiful. Just the right body shape: tall and slim. Just the right coloring: cool porcelain, cream on peaches. And that hair…looked like cinnamon and rich wood on fire in the sun. She looked young and very fit. It was his kind of woman.

After a minute, the woman sighed and turned, to wade back toward the bench that lined the small pool. Her hands held the skirt aloft, it looked like slivers of material bunched in a child's fist. Her legs were bare almost to the apex of her thighs in front. With a grimace, he lifted his hand to rub at his lips. Her front was even more attractive than her back. He watched the pure symphony of muscular form as she pressed for the tiled side of the spring. Her thighs were creamy, just slightly tawny and were well-formed, ending in muscular calves and a pair of small feet.

The lavender silk covered her most intimate parts from his view, but only by a blessed small margin. The panties dipped with a small V to point to the apex of her thighs. He could see a slight line of moisture in the crease of her abdomen. As she stepped to the tile, he allowed his gaze to drift up her form to her breasts. The bra that covered them was silk as well and the lavender/silver caught the sun's light like a prism. Slivers of darker purple coursed through the fabric as the mounds of flesh jiggled slightly in the loose embrace of that incredible silk. Before he could divert his mind, he thought of touching them to see if they were as silken as the material.

Get a hold of yourself, Sinclair, he growled under his breath. He wanted to remain aloof here; remaining separate was his only way of maintaining diplomatic actions. Suddenly, he wanted to turn and disappear back into the warm fronds of the ferns around him, before he found himself walking forward to engage the girl in conversation. Conversation with a heavenly creature like that would only lead him to wanting to spend time with her. With that last thought, he turned, but not before he saw the woman brush her hair back from her face.

The act revealed a face that he knew as well as his own.

It was Susan Ivanova.

***

Susan's mouth was turned up in a half-smile as she lifted the small flower to her nose. The aroma was incredible. The perfume was so strong that it made her mouth water simply from the tantilizing way that it teased her senses. The flower, the sunlight and the way that she was surrounded in green, warm life made her want to remain there. The bench with its jewel tone cushions and throws was situated perfectly to allow her to lay and watch the water.

Better to lay here than to deal with the other women in the plaza, she decided. Mary was not too bad; the woman had a wonderful sense of humor, but the others were…not the types of people that she chose to associate with. Her feet, cool from the water, touched the tile and she found a shiver erupting through her body.

As she stepped to the bench, she realized she was not alone. Her senses heightened, she reached up to brush her hair back from her face to glance around her. She didn't have to look hard. Close to the edge of the ferns stood a man. She stopped quickly, almost sliding on the now wet tile. Her hands dropped her skirt and she formed fists. How dare a man enter this section of the garden. It was a perfect place for her to hide, and now, it was ruined as a sanctuary. She took two steps, extending her legs. She would beat him into submission.

The man appeared to be in shock; he didn't move. It took her only seconds to identify him. "Commander?" she asked, incredulously.

"Ivanova."

Susan inhaled as the voice of Jeffrey Sinclair answered her. Her mouth fell open slightly in shock as she walked over to stand by him. He was the last person she expected to see in a vacation-spot-turned-meatmarket. She frowned slightly. "What the hell are you…."

"Doing here?" he asked. "I should ask you the same question, Ivanova."

She answered in a quick and abrupt manner with a grimace. "Vacation, sir. You signed the form last week. I am here on Delenn's suggestion."

Sinclair nodded. She watched as his throat worked for a moment before he answered her. "I finished the Andromedian trade agreement talks…this was their way of thanking me."

Ivanova sputtered a shocked laugh. "Torture is more like it."

"I see you agree with me," he answered with a smile. He bowed his head and glanced up at her through squinted lids. "Did I disturb you?"

"Yes, sir."

He chuckled lowly. Ivanova shook her head in confusion. After a few seconds he answered her unspoken question. "Dressed as we are, Ivanova…I think you can call me something other than sir or Commander. Sinclair or Jeff would do."

Ivanova almost blushed, her mouth falling open as she realized that he did have a point. It was also the first time that she noticed what he was wearing. She took a moment to glance down his form. His legs were wrapped, loosely, in black cotton. The folds of the pants fell to his bare feet. His chest, under the warm emerald embroidered satin vest, was bare. His arms were bare.

His skin was so dark and warm that the only thing that Susan could think immediately was that he looked as though he had been dipped in gold.

It was at that point that she realized that she was standing in front of her commanding officer wearing only a collection of lingerie. Still, she stood at attention, rigidly in front of him. "Sinclair…what are you doing…in the plaza? Aren't the men…"

"We are to plan our evenings," Jeff answered and sighed. After a moment, he nodded to the stone bench. "Let's sit, Susan…maybe we can figure out what is going on here that we can avoid."

She nodded and he stood back to let her walk in front of him to the bench. As she turned her back, Sinclair exhaled hard. There was no way that this beautiful woman in front of him was his second in command. When she spoke, he felt as though he was on the station, but when she turned away, he was mesmerized by the gentle sway of her hips. It was a good thing that she was not in the main garden at that moment, he thought, she would be the center of attention from a good many men. She wouldn't like that, he added.

As she sat, she glanced at him. "I don't have to avoid much, Comm- Jeff. I will be on the first transport out of here in the morning. I've had more than enough."

His smile acknowledged that he had suspected as much. "You aren't enjoying your time? I had heard that women are treated…well here."

"Well?"

"Pampered."

Susan pursed her lips and looked thoughtful. "I suppose they are. I don't wish to be. It is the other things that are expected that bother me."

"The night life you mean."

"Is that what you are calling it?" she sighed and moved her skirt out of the way. "Sir…"

"Apparently sex is accepted well and even celebrated in private."

"I know. I don't agree with the…freeness that sex is offered here."

"I don't either," he agreed with a sigh.

"And so," she continued, "I'm on the first fight home."

Jeff let his eyes drift over her freshly scrubbed face and over her plaited, braided and shiny hair. When he centered his gaze back on her eyes, he smiled. "You might like it if you give it a chance, Susan. You don't have to wear uniforms…" he offered.

With a half-smile, she changed the subject. "How do you anticipate avoiding the main meatmarket mentality of this place?"

"By playing the game a different way under the same rules."

"Meaning?"she asked, looking sideways at him. For some reason, she did not think that she was looking forward to the answer.

The Commander was quiet, leaning forward with his arms on his knees. He did have an idea, but he was not sure that she would agree to it. But it was the only idea that he could come up with that would allow him to avoid the nightlife. After a few moments, he turned his head to look at her. "Have dinner with me tonight, Ivanova."

She groaned inwardly and began to shake her head. He stopped her by holding his hand up. "You need to avoid the meatmarket for the evening, and I want to avoid it for the night. We know each other."

"I don't think that is a good idea…"

Jeff sighed and shook his head. "Do you have a better one, Lieutenant Commander? Use the things that are available to you for use. I'm here. You are here. We know each other. The plan is sound."

Susan rolled her eyes slightly and nodded. She glanced at the small fountain and let out a little breath. "Tactics, Sinclair? Fine. Do you know…."

"No. But I can find out how to go about making the plans," he glanced at the fountain as well. He was happy that she was there to afford him an alternative plan for the evening. It was an easy plan, she was his second in command, Susan, Ivanova…an officer and an acquaintance. With a grunt, he rose from the bench and glanced back down at her. "About six, Ivanova?"

With a sigh, Susan nodded. "I suppose it is the best idea to keep us under the appearance of enjoyment."

A half-smile spread across Jeff's lips. "Appearance of enjoyment…you are a poet with words sometimes, Ivanova."

"Thanks."

He stared at the top of her head and the molten red strands that the sunbeams caught and played. "I'll see you then."

She nodded. Without another word, he turned and left the garden. All she heard was his muted, gentle footfalls and then nothing. Raising her head, she glanced around at the plants. Only the fronds gently swaying betrayed where he had walked. It was almost comical the quick way that he had disappeared from the garden, she thought. But then again, seeing his second in command in an outfit that amounted to her undergarments was not conducive to him remaining long.

Susan stared into the falling water, drew her legs up to hold them and frowned with thought.

Sinclair cleared the ferns and groaned. He spotted Jared and strode over to him. The younger Englishman saw his approaching friend and smiled widely.

"I see you have come to your senses, Sinclair! Come meet Ivy and her friend, Mink…"

Jeff closed his eyes and shook his head. That was right, each of the women had pet names; he hadn't asked Susan what hers was. Killer, probably he thought with a grin. "Jared, I need to ask you…."

"I was just telling them about you, Jeff. I think they are interested…"

Sinclair glanced at the fair blond and her ebony skinned friend. They were beautiful women. He nodded in greeting. If his sense of ethics was not prickled by the place, it was quite possible that he would enjoy an evening with either woman. But his ethics were prickled, and he couldn't condone what was going on here. For the fifth time, he cursed Senator Hidoshi and the fact that they had to maintain ambassadorial ties to the Andromedians. "Hello, ladies."

Mink glanced down his form and grinned widely. "Hello…Commander, isn't it? Of Babylon 5?"

"Yes," he answered, nodded, and putting his hands down at his side. Glancing sideways at Jared, he lifted an eyebrow. "Can I borrow Jared for a moment, ladies?"

Mink winked and Ivy smiled widely. Jeff suddenly felt as though he was being stalked. Jared kissed Ivy's hand and walked over to Sinclair. Once they faced each other, Jeff nodded and talked lowly: "How do we go about planning an evening?"

"Which girl, Jeff? You hardly met them…granted they are beautiful. Mink is my personal favorite…"

"Neither girl here, Jared. I found another."

"That quickly? You work fast, Sinclair." Jared grinned widely.

For only a fraction of a second, Jeff considered telling his friend that he had bumped into his executive officer, but quickly discarded the thought. It would be better if no one knew that they knew each other. "I know what I want, and know it when I find it."

"Good for you, old boy," Jared clapped him on the shoulder. Jeff frowned for a moment at the personal touch.

"There is one problem. I didn’t get the girl's name…" Sinclair shrugged.

Jared swallowed a laugh. "Took your breath away, huh? It’s imperative that you have that, Jeff. Once you find out her name, you tell the garden keepers and the rest is taken care of. She'll be delivered to your door at the appointed time. Found one that wet your appetite; I'm glad."

"It would help if I had found out…." Sinclair growled. Delivered to his door, indeed. He truly did not care for this place.

"Here, let me see if I can help…." Jared grabbed his arm and pulled him toward a collection of women around a small fountain. He approached with a sure stride. Sinclair looked put upon, but followed his new friend. The women quieted as they approached. The small Englishman didn't let the silence phase him. "Ladies, good afternoon, I was wondering if you could help us."

Two women giggled and a third met the pair of men's eyes without hesitation. "Yes?" she said. Jeff could clearly hear the Irish brogue of her voice.

"My friend here has found a woman and she consented to be his partner for the evening, but he neglected to get her name…I was hoping one of you know of her, or know whom we could ask…"

"I'll do what I can…" the woman said quietly.

Sinclair nodded and extended his hand. "She is about five foot eight or nine, thin, long dark hair…in braids, I think…she is wearing…silver…."

Mary swallowed the knowing sigh that she felt bubbling up; Susan had attracted a man. But the woman did not want to be with a man; she didn't believe that Ivanova had agreed. With a smile, she squinted into sun to glance at the man's face. Maybe he was mistaken. Before she could ask him to clarify, the ferns across the small plaza rustled and Susan appeared. Her hair was slightly more windblown and her dress was wet. Mary guessed that the younger woman had waded into a fountain. The silver/lavender that she wore was brilliant in the sun.

Sinclair inhaled through his nose quickly. And Mary knew that she was not mistaken; Ivanova had captured this man's interest. "That's her," Jeff rumbled, inclining his head.

Jared whistled under this breath. "Sinclair, you do have good taste."

Mary still debated giving the wrong name. She felt protective about the fiery Russian woman even as she realized that Susan was the last woman that needed protecting. AS she watched, Ivanova walked across the plaza and approached the balcony doors to the harem interior. She stopped just shy of the door and glanced back at her and the men. Mary swore she saw a softening of the lines about the younger woman's mouth. She met the tall man in front of her eyes with no hesitation. Even as the tall man nodded to Susan, she turned and entered the inner rooms. Before she could decide against it, Mary squinted back up at the man and smiled. "That woman, sir? Her name is Satin."

Sinclair breathed deeply for a moment and nodded his thanks. Bending at the waist, he lifted her hand and kissed it. "Thank you."

Mary smiled in return and watched as Sinclair and his English friend moved off toward the garden master's small booth. Turning, she glanced at the interior door where Susan had disappeared. Maybe Ivanova was ready to have a good time.