Star Crossed…

Sheridan pulled harshly at his jacket hem. It just was not lying properly on his frame. He couldn’t understand it…it had fit a month ago when he had come to Babylon 5. And he had not washed it any differently. Turning sideways, he looked in the mirror. Was it him? Had he gained that much weight?

He ran his hand down over his stomach. No, it was definitely a difference in the cleaning of uniform…it had to be. It had only been a month…how could he have put on that much weight?

With a grunt, he turned and grabbed his command bar. As he pinned it on his chest, he gazed back at the mirror. No, there was no way he had gained any weight.

He had to meet with the rest of the command staff in the conference room. There was no time to worry about uniforms. But so long as Franklin didn’t slap a ‘meal plan’ on him, he was happy. Jeff had lost a few pounds, Susan had gained a few and Garibaldi was looking healthy. But, they were hating the restriction on their meals. He could understand why. If there was such a thing as a food marital law, Franklin was it. And he had no wish to tempt that fate.

The door slid open and shut as he slipped out into the hall.

**

"We have a meeting, Captain."

2^nd Lieutenant Corwin looked over at the communications officer and then up at Ivanova. She had just entered the observation tower, her hands on her hips. Her foot tapped for a moment when her voice did not receive an answer. "Captain?"

Corwin turned and looked at Captain Sinclair. He stood at Station One, his hands held behind his back. His chin was held tight and his arms almost appeared locked in place. But his eyes were vacant…blank. Jeff didn’t turn and look at Susan as she walked around the well in the floor and to his side. "Captain Sinclair?"

"Hmmm."

"We have a meeting, remember? The weekly command staff meeting?" Ivanova squinted and frowned at Sinclair. She crossed her hands over her chest and stared out at the stars as he was. One of her eyebrows lifted as she searched for what was holding his attention so acutely.

"Yes, I remember." His low, deep voice rumbled next to her. His head turned a little to the side as he scanned another portion of the heavens. "Commander…I have the ability to perform marriages, don’t I?"

Susan choked suddenly and gulped. Her blue eyes bugged out of her face for a moment, before she remembered where she was. When she had schooled her features, she took a deep breath and answered. "AS the military governor of Babylon 5, you do have that ability. You also have the ability as the Commander of an Earth Alliance station. Either way, the answer is yes."

"Mmm hmmm," Jeff shifted his hands and remained standing. Silence fell between them for a few minutes.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Ivanova."

"Can I ask why you want to know?"

Jeff reached in front of him to a small flimsy that was tucked between several knobs on the console. After a few seconds, he handed it to her. She took it and scanned it quickly. "Captain, this is a personal note..."

"Go ahead and read it, Susan." His voice was louder and she looked up to see his familiar brown eyes gazing at her. "I’m going to need your help…so you might as well know."

She looked down and concentrated for a moment. "Your…"

"My brother is coming to B 5 with his fiancee and they want me to perform the wedding. Since I can’t get there when they want me…they are coming here." Sinclair crossed his arms over his chest. A small smile appeared on his face and he sighed. "I haven’t seen Malcolm in…probably six years."

"And this is a problem, sir?" Susan asked quietly, conspiratorily.

"No, not a problem. I’m looking forward to it, actually….seeing him again that is." His voice whispered like the wind, hot and lost on a summer day. "I’m more worried about the type of wedding they want. You see, Sinclair’s are Scottish."

"I gathered that much. It can’t be as involved as a Russian Jewish wedding, Captain…but you do have my sympathies. You will need a kilt."

Jeff smiled and lowered his head with a nod. "Yes. Along with some time for leave…"

"Ah…I see." Susan smiled in return. "You know it will not be a problem, sir. But…we do have the meeting…" she handed back the flimsy to him with a smile. "You should consider it an honor that they want you to marry them."

Sinclair held his hand out, to lead her around the well, along the metal rail, to the door. He stepped quickly with her. "I do…I just hate taking leave."

Susan stepped ahead of him to the lift. The door slid open and they both climbed in. As it was crowded, Jeff stepped forward and allowed her to stand in front of him. The door slid shut just inches from her nose. "We all hate taking leave, sir. But you never look this remorseful when it is Miss Sakai that you are taking leave for."

"Watch it," he returned, leaning slightly over her left shoulder to look sideways at her.

With a smile, she simply lifted an eyebrow and remained facing forward.

**

Lennier walked along the corridor with purpose. He had heard from Delenn that Captain Sinclair was going to perform a human cultural ritual. His cream and tan tunics and overcoat flowed about his legs as he ran for the closing door of the lift. Captain Sheridan had assured him that Captain Sinclair was heading to the human Earth Force ‘gymnasium’ for an exercise ritual. It only remained for him to find this…gymnasium. Delenn had assured him that this gym was the same as the ritual house for the Timora…the art of hand warfare.

Mr. Garibaldi stood in the lift, giving a half-smile as the young Minbari launched himself in the lift. "Where are you heading to at a dead run, Mr. Lennier?"

"I am searching for Captain Sinclair," Lennier answered matter-of-factly. "I was informed that he is at the gym."

Garibaldi shook his head with a laugh. "And you really don’t know what to make of a gym, do you, Lennier? Blue 57." He called out. The lights in the back of the lift blinked on and it began to move. "I’ll drop you off down there. I got a couple of minutes."

"Thank you," Lennier bowed slightly, his hands tucked into his chest.

"What are you looking for Jeff for?" Mike asked, slipping his hands into his pockets and stretching up on his toes. "I mean, it must be pretty important for you to venture into the bowels of the ‘Earth Force’ sector."

"Jeff? Oh, Captain Sinclair. Yes, it is rather important. I have heard that he is to perform an Earth custom ritual. I find it imperative that I ask him about this ritual…as you know one of my hobbies, my…passions…is history, customs. I wish to know about this ritual."

"The wedding?" Garibaldi smiled. He barked a laugh as the lift came to a stop and the door opened. "Walk down the corridor, fifth door on the right. It will open. He should be in one of the rooms inside."

Lennier bowed quickly and left down the hall. As the door slid shut, Mike let loose a loud laugh. "Christ Jeff, you have a impassioned Minbari on your heels, family coming and a diet that is driving you insane. I definitely do not want to be in your shoes."

**

Sinclair plowed through the water like a knife slicing through butter. His arms arced above his head and his feet kicked. It was not expert by any measure, but it served the purpose of getting him from one end of the pool to the other. And it served to help him stay in shape. He turned his head to the side and took a breath of air before flipping to continue back to the other end pool.

When he lifted his head to take another breath, he saw white and tan tunics standing by the pool. On the next breath, he spied a bone crest. He rolled his eyes as he swam, and stopped as he felt his hand touch the wall. Putting both arms up on the side of the pool, he lifted himself out and grabbed his towel lying on the chair near the edge. He swiped at his hair twice with the towel and then began to walk towards Lennier. For some reason, it did not surprise Jeff that the young Minbari monk was there. It did cause a stir amongst the other officers utilizing the pool.

"Mr. Lennier?" Jeff asked as he neared the Minbari.

Lennier had been gazing around, squinting and shaking his head. As the Captain came to a stop and wrapped the towel around his waist, the Minbari acknowledged him with some surprise. "Captain Sinclair?"

"Is there a problem? A crisis of some sort?" Sinclair folded his arms across his chest. "Some particular reason that you are here? I am assuming that you are looking for me."

Lennier looked at Sinclair for a moment and then it registered in his mind that the Captain did not look particularly happy. "Yes, Captain Sinclair…I have come to ask you some questions."

Jeff sighed and nodded slowly. "About my brother’s wedding no doubt."

"Yes." Lennier’s face split into a wide smile. His blue eyes shone brightly as if his soul had started a fire. "Exactly, Captain Sinclair. You must excuse the intrusion during your…warrior meditation time…but I was wondering if I might, that is if it would be possible…"

Sinclair pursed his lips and lifted his eyebrows. Then, as he lowered his head, he stated: "You want to know if I will allow you to attend the wedding of my brother. I will have to ask him for permission, Lennier. I will explain it to him when he arrives…but…"

"Thank you, Captain." Lennier grinned, crossing his arms over his chest in a pose of thanks and of departure. As he turned to leave, and Jeff made to return to the pool, Lennier shook his head forcefully and turned back around. "Captain Sinclair?"

Jeff tilted back his head and sighed. "Yes, Lennier?"

"What is this place?"

"It is a pool. We humans use it to exercise." Sinclair answered, not turning to look at the Minbari.

"But it is filled with water," Lennier answered. "Do you not worry about incapatibilities between your lungs and this medium?"

"We hold our breath, Lennier, we do not try to breathe in it." Jeff answered, knowing the dislike that Minbari had for submersion in water.

"I see," Lennier answered and bent to take his leave. When he left through the door, Jeff shook his head once, forcefully and slung the towel over his shoulder.

Lennier walked down the hallway slowly and entered the lift at the end of it with a grimace. "Submersion in water. In a medium that is incapable with their physiology…humans are strange."

**

Garibaldi gave a half grimace as he walked into the main security office and saw several of his junior officers hanging over the main viewer in the corner of the room. Zack was off to the side, shaking his head, and not really giving his attention anywhere. His hair was curled and slicked back and he pulled at his uniform, trying to adjust it. Mike knew that his second in command was not happy with his uniform…complaining that it often left him unable to 'pick up chicks', and he could sympathize with him. But as he entered the viewer area, he realized that Zack's insecurity about his jacket was the least of his problems….the men watching the screen and ignoring him was a much bigger problem.

"Gentlemen?" he asked, his baritone voice lilted to show his unhappiness at the lack of attention.

"Hey, Chief," Mark called, leaning back from the screen to acknowledge his boss. "You should see this…"

Garibaldi walked forward and glanced at the screen. He could see Ambassador Delenn standing in the middle of the corridor in Green sector, looking up and down the hallway. Her hair was disheveled and she was clearly not happy. Mike lowered his head and shook it once, putting his hands on his hips. "Is that what I trained you all to do? Stand around gawking at the security vids? Huh? Aren't most of you supposed to be on duty?"

"Chief…"

"Go on, you grunts…" Mike stated, nodding toward the door.

When all but Zack had left the room, Garibaldi walked around the main console and collapsed in the chair. He watched Delenn on the screen for a moment and wondered if he should get into Green Sector and ask her if she needed help. He liked Delenn. There was something about her that made him not address her as a Minbari…he never had.

"Chief?"

Mike lifted his eyes and looked at Zack with a shake of his head. "If they had been watching the women's locker room…then I would have said they had learned properly from me.." he gestured to the screen. "I wonder what is eating Delenn…"

**

Delenn spun on her heel as she heard the approach of boots. When she saw that those footsteps belonged to Susan Ivanova, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Commander…"

Ivanova frowned. "You asked me to come down here….what's wrong, Ambassador?"

The thin Minbari Ambassador grabbed Susan's hand and pulled her into the quarters directly behind her. Susan gave a half smile that disappeared when the door slid shut and Delenn turned to face her. In Delenn's small hand there was a brush. It was then that Susan realized that Delenn's hair was piled, curled and knotted on her head. "Yes, Ivanova…." Delenn answered, with a grimace on her face. "Yes, I did send for you…I need your help."

"Of course…although with Minbari politics….Captain Sinclair is better versed…" Ivanova hoped that was all that Delenn was asking for…but for some reason…

"No…no…" Delenn grimaced and held up the brush in front of her face. "I need help with this….this….this…"

"Your hair?" Susan asked, her eyes wide.

"It…is….argh….it refuses to be logical in its arrangement…and yours…your hair always seems to…." Delenn frowned and growled low in her throat. "Captain Sinclair's brother is coming on board this evening and he has asked if I would attend a small welcoming party tonight. I can't attend…." She sighed and shook her head. "I look like a waif…"

Ivanova tilted her head to the side and took a deep breath. Lifting her hand, she felt the frizzy, dried mass of hair on the Ambassador's head. "Have you ….washed it, Delenn?" she asked, quietly.

"We Minbari do not submerge in water like you humans, Ivanova…."

"Call me Susan…"

"Susan…we use a chemical compound that strips away the outer layer of our skin…it is very refreshing…"

"But…" the young Earth Force Commander frowned and took a deep breath. "But, Delenn…hair is already…dry…to do that to it…"

Delenn sighed. "I don't…"

Ivanova held up a hand in front of the Minbari Ambassador. "Say no more…" She lifted her comm to her mouth and sighed into the mic. "C and C…this is Ivanova…I'm in Ambassador Delenn's quarters…and I'll be here for some time…if anyone needs me…"

"Commander Ivanova…Captain Sinclair has been trying to reach you…and Captain Sheridan has been attempting to reach Ambassador Delenn…"

Delenn shook her head violently and frowned at Susan. Ivanova knew exactly how she felt. "Tell Captain Sheridan that Ambassador Delenn will be able to meet with him tonight." She rolled her eyes at Delenn, eliciting a smile from the woman. She then patched into Sinclair's frequency. "Captain Sinclair?"

Jeff's deep voice rumbled across her wrist speaker. "Ivanova…I've been trying to reach you…"

"I'm helping out on a diplomatic problem…"

"Anything I need to be aware of, Commander?"

Susan sighed. "No, no…I've got it…but…I'm going to be busy for a few hours…"

"Then don't worry about it, Ivanova…I'll deal with what I have here. But one thing…did you contact Mars for the…kilt?" Susan could hear Garibaldi's snorted laughter in the background and stifled a smile herself.

"I did, Sinclair…it is all taken care of…it will be here in two days. But sir, I would recommend making sure your knees are…"

"Thank you, Commander…that is all."

The comm conversation went dead quickly and Susan was smiling widely when she lowered her wrist away from her mouth. Delenn looked perplexed, but Ivanova was not forthcoming with any information. Ivanova enjoyed joking with Sinclair about two things: his age and his looks. His age was an easier target than his looks…but a situation when he would be baring his legs in front of many people was something that she could not pass up. "Well…let's get started, Delenn…it looks like we have our jobs cut out for us today."

**

Jeff stood in front of the mirror and adjusted his jacket for the fifth time in an hour. He had to admit that the damn thing was fitting better now that he had started his diet. In fact, it had been almost five years since he had been able to button it comfortably in front. Its black almost silken material fell without interference from his shoulders to his hips. The copper shirt underneath helped to make his shoulders look wider. He liked that. Made him look more like a commanding officer than a man entering the middle of his life.

"Christ…Jeff….if I had known that you were that vain…" Mike said, as he leaned back against the edge of the bar with a smile. "It's only Malcolm…"

Sinclair nodded and lifted his chin to make sure the top button was secure on his shirt. "I know."

"Then why all the preening? Is there going to be a special lady there that you have neglected to tell me about? Is Catherine back?" Garibaldi lifted his glass of water to his lips and took a swig. "Or are you trying to impress your new sister-in-law?"

Jeff shrugged and lowered his hands, turning to pick up his glass of scotch. "What ladies? And no, Catherine is not back, Mike. And as for Jennah…she is young enough to be my daughter. No, I am not trying to impress her."

"Then stop it…you look like your normal self…and you are making me damn nervous," Mike sighed. He glanced at the clock on the wall. "I know Sheridan was heading down there right after his shift and Delenn and Susan were going to meet us there at 1900 hours. Its ten of now…we should get going. God knows, with Malcolm's impeccable sense of early timing…he is probably already there and has food."

Sinclair gave a half smile and ushered his friend out of the door with a nod. He ordered the lights cut out and then walked along side Mike to the lift. "It's been years since I have seen Malcolm…"

"I know…I think since before the food riots?" Mike asked. Then he nodded. "No…he came to the colony right before you shipped out to Earth Central and then to here."

Jeff agreed. He put his hands behind his back and sighed. "Yes…that was the last time I saw him. But I was home once…right before the station was finished…for my mother's funeral. I saw him then, obviously."

"It's your god damn brother, Jeff….why are you nervous." Mike leaned against the wall of the lift and frowned.

"Because I made a promise to him once, that I broke, several times over. And as I get older…it bothers me more and more…"

"Are you gonna tell me what it was?"

Jeff looked at his friend out of the side of his eye. Garibaldi intercepted the look and nodded. He held up a hand and cut off what was obviously not being said. "Never mind…forget I asked. Just try and have some fun tonight, Jeff…you put together the damned party…enjoy it…okay?"

Sinclair grimaced and shook his head. "We had to invite Londo…"

"Christ…" Garibaldi cursed and pushed away from the wall when the door slid open.

**

Sheridan stood off to the side of the room and sipped at his gin and tonic. He felt a little out of sorts not clad in his uniform. He wore a plain blue suit with a white shirt. Around him, there was only Vir and Londo…and they sectioned themselves off to the side away from him. With a sigh, a shake of his head and a smile, he thought about what the room was going to look like in a moment: Jeff Sinclair's family, Delenn and Lennier, Garibaldi and Ivanova…he looked at the table that was set. Hell, it was going to be a night to remember.

The door slid open to the room and he turned, expecting to see Delenn and Lennier, but saw Jeff and Mike enter instead. Both men were wearing suits…Jeff in black, Mike in dark green. Sheridan had to admit they looked fit. Jeff entered the room and nodded to Londo before walking across to John. Sinclair reached for the bottle of scotch and some water. John shook his head and leaned forward on his elbows. "High octane stuff, Sinclair…"

Jeff gave him a glance and stirred the drink.

"What…is it Londo? Or Lennier? I heard he was following you around yesterday. Or is it your brother…."

Sinclair turned around to face the door and leaned against bar.

Garibaldi poured himself a glass of water as he joined Sheridan and Sinclair. "All of the above, Captain Sheridan."

John sighed with a laugh. "You should try having two ex-wive's families to deal with, Jeff."

Sinclair snorted a laugh into his glass.

**

Delenn petted her hair and smiled lopsidedly at Susan. "Are you sure?"

"You look great, Delenn…" Ivanova encouraged. "That dress looks great on you."

The Ambassador glanced down at the blue dress and its low cut bodice. It was a far cry from she was used to wearing, but she had to trust Ivanova that the clothes were fine. "It is different…"

"It looks great….better than I look in it…you have the figure to wear it…" Susan stated, and leaned back against the smooth metal of the lift. Delenn looked up at the numbers and then over at the woman in the lift with her. Susan had on a simple dark green dress that was low cut and fell in gentle waves to her calves…hugging her hips and waist as it went.

"Do you often do that to your hair, Susan?" Delenn asked, indicating the mass of curls and gentle wisps that fell to on her neck and down her back.

Ivanova shrugged. "I used to…when I was stationed on Io…and Mars…but not here. And since I was helping you with your hair…"

Delenn reached up and touched the curls at her forehead and the ones that tumbled down her back. "Thank you…"

"If you have any problems, I am always available to talk, Delenn…you only have to ask," Susan answered as she stood straight. The lift had reached Red 27. The door slid open and she exited behind Delenn. Together they walked down the corridor, now looking like two friends instead of a Commander and an Ambassador. As they approached the door to berth 30, they intercepted a man and a woman. The man was tall, dark-haired and very broad of chest and shoulder. He wore his hair long and it curled at his collar. The woman stood almost a foot shorter than the man and possessed a head of hair that could only be described as titian. Her figure was full and she wore a simple black dress.

Susan's eyes flew over the woman and centered on the man…he looked familiar…more in his stance than in his appearance. "May I be of service?" she asked, slowing to stand in front of them.

"We are looking for Red berth 30 on this floor…" the woman answered, turning her light eyes toward Susan.

The man nodded, laying his hand on the woman's shoulder. "Yes….we are expected. My name is Malcolm Sinclair…"

Susan's mouth fell open in slight shock. "Captain Sinclair is expecting you…the both of you…" she said quietly and then turned to indicate the door at the end of the hall. "If you would follow me…"

Garibaldi lifted his chin to gaze at the door as it slid open. Delenn and a small woman that he did not know entered the room, followed by Susan Ivanova and a man that could only be described as a younger version of Jeff Sinclair. Mike took a swallow of water and put down his glass quickly. Sheridan had engaged Jeff in conversation, finally, and he was faced away from the door. With a sigh, Mike tried to remember all that he knew about Malcolm, which, granted, was not much. Jeff was fiercely protective of information about his family…more so than information about himself.

Malcolm was nine years younger than Jeff…the only other child of David and Irina Sinclair. He was also born on the Mars Colony. Where Jeff had been 14 when his father had died during the Dilgar war, Malcolm had been only 5. Irina Sinclair had sent Jeff to the Jesuit school to try and reign in the wild side of her eldest son, and as soon as he graduated, he went into Earth Force. Part of his paycheck, if not a majority of it, had always gone to his mother and his brother. Mike knew that only through various half said comments that Jeff had made over the years. Those were the things that were said. The facts. But Mike had known Jeff long enough to read between the spoken lines.

Jeff had become his father. In more ways than simply becoming an Earth Force pilot and officer. He supported Malcolm, financially, physically and as well as he could, emotionally. Thirty years before, Jeff had ceased to be a brother and had become a pseudo-father. He had supported Malcolm's decision to work in space construction, actively vying to keep him away from Earth Force. Had kept his younger brother from joining the ranks on the Line. Had protected him.

And Jeff wore the mantel of father well…at the expense of allowing himself the freedom of feeling that brother would have allowed.

"Jeff?" the voice that spoke as Malcolm walked across the room was deep, masculine and so very Sinclair.

Jeff spun on his heel, startled. He gazed at his brother for a long moment before he put down his drink and walked across the floor to meet Malcolm. "Mal…"

When Sinclair stopped and held out his hand, Malcolm looked at it and at Jeff's face before extending his hand to shake the one that was offered. Mike hung his head. So that was it….Jeff had shut himself off from his brother like he did most people that got close to him. Pain management. With a sigh, Garibaldi pushed away from the bar and joined Sheridan in walking across the floor.

**

Susan took a gulp of air after she swallowed her wine to keep from choking. Malcolm Sinclair had all of Jeff's inherent grace and bearing, but a more open personality that allowed the sardonic Scottish wit to come out. And Jennah….Jennah was funny and a perfect match for the tall man that sat at her right. She could match him in intelligence, in bearing and in temper. Between the two of them, Susan had hardly stopped laughing most of the evening.

But that was not the only thing that had kept her in fine spirits most of the night. No, it was watching Lennier try to get an invitation to the wedding. The apologetic way that the young Minbari repeatedly bowed and whispered words and yet the shine in his eyes that seemed like a plead, made Jennah join her in smiles more often than not. Delenn was too involved with John to her right to bother with her attaché. And Londo and Vir…Vir repeatedly tried to get his ambassador to quiet down to no avail. Malcolm apparently thought it was hilarious. His brown eyes sparkled with laughter.

"You should try and breath air…not wine, Ivanova…your lungs will work better…" Mike said, leaning over to talk into her ear.

"Stuff it, Garibaldi…"she answered, smiling. After a minute and another mouthful of meat, she nodded to Jeff who sat four seats away, next to his brother. "What is eating Sinclair tonight….I thought he was glad his brother was coming."

"He is…was…" Garibaldi grimaced. "I think it is all getting to be too much for him, though…"

Another song started over the speakers in the room, and Malcolm lifted his napkin to wipe at his lips. "Jennah?"

"Way ahead of you, Mal…" the young woman answered, and rose to join her fiancee on the dance floor.

Susan watched the two of them walk away, Malcolm's hand on Jennah's waist, until they reached the middle of the floor and turned into each other's arms. Mike's continual nodding made her turn her attention from the couple to see what Garibaldi was doing. "What?"

"Ask Jeff to dance…get him up and get him to laugh…he looks like he has a pole up his ass," Garibaldi suggested.

Ivanova gave Mike a sideways glance and then sighed. "You know what happened last time he and I danced, Garibaldi…you had a full brig."

"No one here would dare cut in," Garibaldi answered. "Come on…you know as well as I do that he needs something to do."With a sigh and a wipe of her lips, she put down her napkin and pushed back in the chair.

**

Jeff led Susan by the hand to the dance floor and pulled her into his arms. Ivanova twirled and landed against his chest with a grunt. "Jesus, Commander…"

With a sardonic smile, he pressed his hand between her shoulder blades and moved her in close. "You were the one that wanted to dance, Ivanova…and this is a jazz slow song…" His hands landed on her hips and held her as he started to sway and step.

"Dance, yes….manhandled no…" she said, sliding her hands up to lay on his shoulders. She remained quiet for several breaths, as his chuckle at her comment came and went. Her eyes drifted over his shoulder to look at Malcolm and Jennah. "Your brother looks just like you, Sinclair…"

Jeff sighed and nodded. "God help him, yes… we both look like my father. It’s the Scottish side of the family."

Susan lifted an eyebrow. "And I don't think I have ever seen this shirt or jacket, Jeff. Were you trying to impress your sister in law to be?"

"First Garibaldi, now you…" he shook his head and moved them slowly in a half circle. He glanced down at her and rumbled: "No."

"And you are more quiet than usual…" she pressed.

"Don't you start, Susan…can't we just enjoy dancing?" he asked, putting his chin against her brow.

"I can ask you questions and enjoy dancing," she answered, sarcastically. "It is like chewing gum and walking at the same time…I excelled at that in kindergarten." He slid his hand down her arm to catch her hand in his. His other arm wrapped around her waist fully. His actions elicited a smile from her. "And distraction won't work either."

He sighed. "It is a long story that I don't particularly want to share, Commander. Yes, I am glad to see Malcolm…and yes I am duly impressed by my sister in law to be. There are just some things that run under it all….okay? Does that answer your questions?" he asked testily.

Ivanova ran her hand from his shoulder to the collar of his shirt. "No…but that is the best answer that I am going to get from you. Silk, Jeff?" she asked, running her hands over the copper shirt under his jacket. "Hell, I'm impressed…I don't care if you were trying to impress your sister in law or not."

He smiled and shook his head. "John and I are heroes of the Line. Garibaldi is one of the most decorated marines still in service for his actions during the war. And you are impressed by a silk shirt…."

**

Delenn watched Susan as she was hauled against Sinclair's body and they started to dance. Never one to bare skin, the Minbari Ambassador was a little taken aback by the amount of skin that showed on Susan's legs as she twirled around Jeff and was pulled into his arms again. It didn't seem to affect the young Commander, but Delenn felt like tugging at her own skirt lower to hide her own skin. And the closeness that was employed in this human ritual of dancing…it was strange. Minbari had rituals that included music and dancing…but never was there touching between bodies. She turned her head to watch Lennier's reaction to it all. He seemed to be interested in the music and the movements, but she could see more color in his markings…more blue…the young monk was embarrassed by it all.

"Would you like to try that?" John asked, leaning over and touching Delenn's arm.

Delenn started and gazed at Sheridan for a moment before she shook her head. "I don't know the moves to this ritual."

"And neither does Jeff…but that isn't stopping him. And dancing is not really a ritual, Ambassador…it’s a matter of expression," John answered, nodding his head at the two dancing couples.

"Expression?"

"Yes…humans use music to express emotions…or not," John frowned. "It's hard to explain..this is not a religious ceremony. They are simply enjoying themselves."

Delenn opened her mouth and turned, casting her eyes back out at the couples on the dance floor. "I see."

"If you would rather not, Ambassador, there will be dancing at the wedding in two days. There will be more people involved…we could blend in…" Sheridan answered, surprised at his own eagerness to dance with the petite Ambassador.

Delenn glanced at the Earth Force Captain seated next to her. There was a willingness in him to show her this…expression…and she found that…endearing. "Very well, Captain Sheridan…"

John nodded, smiling. "I assure you, Ambassador…it will be fun."

With another glance at the floor and at the flair of Susan's skirt as she turned with Captain Sinclair, Delenn cringed. "Fun…" she said lowly.

**

Garibaldi had moved down a chair and Londo and Vir were crowding him. That left the chair next to Jeff and directly across the table from Jennah open. Sinclair held back the chair to allow Susan to sit before he reclined in his chair. Malcolm and Jennah had sat out the last song and were eager to begin talking. Ivanova was more than inclined to join them.

"You are Jeff's Executive Officer, aren't you?" Jennah asked, leaning across the table to whisper loudly at Susan.

Ivanova smiled, trying to keep its full force under control. "Yes."

Sinclair shook his head and sighed. "Yes, Jennah…she is my EO. And a friend."

Susan leaned forward as well. "You will excuse me if I ask a few questions…Captain Sinclair has been rather…"

"Ivanova…" Jeff warned, lifting his brow to pin her with his eyes.

"Ah, being private again," Malcolm laughed. "Christ, Jeff….what is it that you want to know, Susan…isn't it Susan?"

She nodded. "I just wanted to ask how you met…" she turned and gave Jeff a look. "The usual questions that one asks when talking with an engaged couple."

Sinclair took a breath and nodded, casting his eyes off to the side. Malcolm laughed again, a deep, sonorous laugh that made Susan want to squirm in her seat. He touched Jennah's arm to let her answer the question.

The red head smiled at Susan. "We met on a diving trip to the Great Barrier Reef two years ago. Malcolm was one of the senior divers in the club that I had just joined. He was on one of his three month mandatory hiatuses that all construction workers take. He took me under his wing…showed me all the good spots for coral viewing and the best Angelfish schools. And when we surfaced again…he asked me to dinner."

"After that, it was all down hill," Malcolm rejoined. "I asked her to marry me four months later."

Ivanova smiled. Sinclair turned full forwards and leaned on the table. With a smile and a tilt of his head, he addressed Jennah. "Are you sure you want to marry this clown?"

Jennah leaned into Malcolm and laughed. Jeff's smile widened and he chuckled for a moment as the young woman fought for breath to answer him. "Yes. And I have to ask….do I pass inspection, Captain?"

Sinclair looked shocked for a second and searched for his brother's eyes. Malcolm answered easily. "I told her you were the hard one to get to know in the Sinclair family."

"I'm the only other one to get to know in the Sinclair family," Jeff stated. "And I would not say that I am a 'hard one to get to know'."

Susan tilted her head down to look at her commanding officer. "Captain…permission to speak freely…"

"No."

"Captain…"

"No comment from you, Ivanova," Jeff answered, not looking at his EO. He sounded harsh, but Susan could see the corner of his lips turning up in a smile. Sinclair was relieved to have Susan next to him. "And yes, Jennah, you pass inspection. There was no inspection to pass…but…I'd be honored to have you as my sister in law."

Jennah smiled gently and widely. "Good. And, you, Captain Sinclair, I'm sure are going to be a wonderful brother in law."

Jeff smiled loosely, with a lot of teeth…something that Susan had only seen a few times before in the man. He started to talk more, but Jennah unexpectedly yawned widely. With a nod, Malcolm stated. "You've gone and done it again, brother…bored her to death…"

With a cough into his fist that sounded a lot like the word, 'bastard', Jeff smiled at Jennah again. "Would you like to go to your quarters?"

Jennah smiled apologetically and nodded. Jeff rose and pulled back her chair for her. But as Malcolm was rising to join his fiancee, Sinclair's wrist comm beeped. "Captain Sinclair?"

With a roll of his eyes, he answered: "Sinclair here."

"The Drazi representative is requesting an immediate council with you, sir…"

Ivanova rounded the table, "I can…"

"They are asking for Captain Sinclair specifically…" Susan could hear the exasperation in Corwin's voice; it was conveyed well over the comm.

"Fine. Fine…tell them I'll be there in ten minutes," Jeff answered, and punched the comm button quickly to end the conversation. Malcolm held out his hand for his fiancee and nodded knowingly to his older brother.

"Go on, Jeff…we'll see you tomorrow…" Malcolm said. Turning, he bowed to the rest of the room and then left.

Susan frowned as she joined her commanding officer at where he stood. "Jeff? I thought you took leave…"

Jeff rubbed his eyes wearily. "I have a meeting with the Drazi, Ivanova…could you accompany Jennah and Malcolm to their respective quarters?"

Ivanova sighed, knowing no other answer was forth coming. With a curt nod, she spun on her heel and walked at a fast clip to catch up the two guests. Jeff watched her go and then slowly walked towards the east lifts.

The doorchime was loud and Malcolm groaned. Hell, he thought, as he rolled over and faced the door with a sigh. It had to be the middle of the night still. The travel agent had warned him that there would be jet lag, but this had to be hell. He pushed back the covers and made sure that Jennah was still sleeping soundly. There was only one guess as to who was at the door.

He slid the room divider shut and tied his robe before he answered the door. Sure enough, his brother stood on the other side. Jeff was leaning against the door jam, his hands buried in his uniform pockets. His head was bent down. "Jeff…"

"Malcolm…can I come in?"

"It’s the middle of the night and you want to talk?" Malcolm raked back his brown hair viciously and sighed. "Fine…come on in…"

Jeff entered the room and glanced around. "Its 0900, Malcolm…you are just having space lag. Jennah still sleeping?"

"Hell yeah, as I would be if I were still in bed."

Sinclair grinned at his brother's grouchy mood. "How have you been, Malcolm? How's the…"

"How's home? The same, Australia never changes. It still remains one of the most beautiful places on Earth. And me…I've been just fine, Jeff…for a man that hasn't seen the rest of his family for almost two years…"

Jeff sighed and nodded. "Ah…the direct approach…"

"Damn straight, I'm going to be direct. When were you planning on coming home again?"

Sinclair gestured to the chair. "May I sit? If I'm going to be interrogated, I want to sit."

Malcolm watched as his brother folded his tall form into the chair and then collapsed himself into the cushions of the couch. "It's not an interrogation, Jeff…" his sigh was pronounced. "Mom always worried that you would become one of those space jockeys that never came home. When was the last time you had solid ground under your feet?"

"You know the answer to that, Mal. When I was offered Babylon 5…I couldn't turn it down. This position is my one last chance at…"

"At what…becoming Dad?"

"I'm a career Earth Force Officer…" Jeff said, leaning forward on his knees. "That is what I have chosen to do. My job is here…"

"And your family is on Earth, Jeff," Malcolm slapped his leg angrily and then raised on of his hands to rub at his eyes. "Look…Mom…"

"If I had known she was that bad, Malcolm, I would have come home immediately."

"And it took her being on her death bed to even make you remember you had a family…"

Jeff launched himself out of the chair and paced the floor, his hands fisted at his side. "Jesus Christ…Malcolm…that isn't fair and you know it. I have always kept in touch with the both of you…Mom and you. She never let on about her condition. And you damn well know that I know I have a family. I've always taken care of you…"

"Yes…yes, you have. You were always there when the money was needed, Jeff. Your checks always came on time. And when I was younger, you were always there…"

"Someone had to do it, Malcolm. And that someone had to be me…"

Malcolm rose to face his brother. Jeff spun around to glare at Malcolm across the low, glass table. "Damn it…I've been out on my own for years, Jeffrey. And for the longest time…I haven't needed checks…I haven't needed a brother or a father…I wanted a brother."

"Christ…what do you think I am?" Jeff spread his hands wide. "I am your brother."

"Then act like it occasionally. Come home…stop running." Malcolm spat out before he quieted. "Jennah is a psychologist…she can help, Jeff."

Jeff spun around and crossed his arms over his chest. "I've been through psych-screenings, Malcolm…about five a year. My post traumatic stress disorder is well in hand."

"Except all the times that you run out and jump into danger…"

Jeff squinted his eyes and talked over his younger brother with ease. "It is only some nightmares and…waking memories…" he shrugged.

Malcolm rested back against the couch with his legs, crossing his arms over his chest much like his brother. "Jeff…"

Sinclair groaned and shook his head. "I'm not going to give into this, Malcolm. Earth Force states that I am still fit for duty. They find nothing in my psyche that would preclude my ability to act as Commander of Babylon 5."

"Fine. Fine. Your job is not in jepordry. But what about your life, Jeff? What kind of a life are you giving yourself? Hmm? Always driving yourself. Always pushing…always working. Taking on way too much responsibility…personal responsibility…" Malcolm grunted. "Even ten years later, Jeff, you are still taking responsibility for those men on the line. You were given the choice to fly that mission, you know…Mom told me that much."

"You were 19," Jeff's legs shook and he lowered himself into the chair nearest him. "And Mom, she was still looking at me and seeing Dad. If the Line had broken, if they had beaten us…Earth would be no more now, you know that. I had to do something for the two of you, damn it, you were all I had left. You and Mom and Catherine. I couldn’t…not fly it…it was asked of me as a pilot. And I gave myself as a pilot."

"And if you had died?" Malcolm asked lowly. "Earth was safe, but you died?"

"Why bring up old wounds, Malcolm?" Jeff pleaded.

"Because Earth is safe, Jeff, and you did die on the line. The man I knew as a brother, died. When you came back, you were different…you were and still are being eaten by guilt. You used to be open, laughed easily, you came home for chrissake. You had reason in life…"Malcolm answered quietly. "I want to deal with this rift between us…"

"You are doing a hell of a job…" Jeff laughed bitterly. "Are you through?"

"No…" Malcolm sighed. "I've gone this far…might as well go all the way…I want to know why you feel so guilty around me…you hardly meet my eyes."

Sinclair groaned. "And that is the hardest thing to face. Fine. You want to know… Do you remember around the time Dad died? You were only five…maybe six." Jeff lifted his head to glance at Malcolm's face. "We came home after Dad's funeral. That night, you came into my bedroom and climbed into bed with me. And cried. And I told you that I would always be there…I would always take care of you."

Malcolm shook his head. "I don't remember that, Jeff."

Jeff shook his head sadly. "I didn't think so…but I do. And I have had to break that promise over and over again."

"You don't have to keep breaking it now, Jeff…" Malcolm started at the sound of his fiancee's alto voice, gritty from sleep.

Sinclair lifted his eyes to glance at his sister to be. Jennah tightened her robe and nodded. "Come back to Earth for a stay. Come see us…you can be there…"

Jeff shook his head with a sigh. "When I can come home, I will, Jennah. Believe me, I will."

Malcolm grunted. "Don't get a guilt complex about that promise, Jeff…I don't even remember it…"

Sinclair nodded, and pushed on his knees to stand. "I've eaten up enough of your morning, Malcolm." He turned and walked to the door, buttoning his collar. "Ivanova reserved the main observation room on Blue sector for tonight and tomorrow for practice and the actual ceremony. Shall we say…2000 hours?"

Malcolm walked with his brother to the door and held out his hand. Jeff glanced at him and the hand before he shook it. "Truce?"

Jeff laughed, a sonorous, deep chuckle. "I'll see you later, Mal…good morning, Jennah."

Jennah leaned back against the room divider as the door opened and Jeff left. Malcolm turned and faced his wife to be with a grimace on his face. Without a thought, she walked forward and embraced him. "He has survivor's guilt, Mal. From both your father and his time in the war. He is hurting…searching…"

"Damn it…" Mal wrapped his arms around his fiancee fiercely. "I just wish…"

"He has to do this on his own terms. We can't do it for him. All we can do is love him."

"You talk like a therapist, even naked…" Malcolm leaned back and gave Jennah a leer. "I love him…but I think he would faint if I ever told him that. He is too much like Dad. Or at least that was what Mom told me."

Jennah sighed and buried her face into his chest again. "He is better than he used to be."

Malcolm nodded and yawned. "He is…let's go back to bed…2000 is a long time off…"

**

"Commander…"

Susan turned slowly to acknowledge Sheridan as he walked, slowly, around the well in the floor. "Captain…you are on deck early…"

John shrugged. "Quiet?"

"As a graveyard, yes," Ivanova pushed several buttons and leaned back again.

"Hmmm…." John hummed and crossed his arms over his chest. Susan frowned and shook her head. She knew that Sheridan was looking to talk about something, but she was damned if it was going to be her that spoke first. She pressed several more buttons and waited for him to break the silence. She didn't have long to wait…John Sheridan was not known for his powers of patience. "Ivanova? You helped Ambassador Delenn with her hair and dress last night, correct?"

Ivanova tilted her head to the side. "Yes, I did."

"Woman of few words," Sheridan shook his head. "Look…Ivanova…Delenn was interested in the dancing that you and Jeff were doing last night…and she seems nervous about…"

"I'll talk with her," Susan said, shortly with little effort. John glanced at her and sighed.

"Thank you…" he offered and leaned back on the pole behind him to glance out the main viewport.

Ivanova sighed when the young Captain didn't move and remained behind her. She had her own question to ask Sheridan, had been waiting for a good time to ask him. She still didn't trust him, but trust was not needed for the question that she wanted to ask. After what seemed a lifetime, she turned slightly. John met her inquisitive eyes with a smile. Damn him, she thought, he knows I want to ask him something.

"Captain Sheridan…you were my brother's commanding officer in the war."

John's smile fell away from his lips as he gazed at the young Commander. He remembered her brother well. He had been a damn good pilot and a patriot. And he had been the sole pilot that had flown out to chase down the Minbari scout. Essentially the man had taken on a suicide mission in exchange for the lives of his fellow crew. "Yes. Yes, I was, Ivanova."

Susan nodded, and turned back around to adjust more controls. John tilted his head to keep his eyes on her facial expression. In the low light, Susan Ivanova seemed a young child…vulnerable. It was not a word that he associated with the woman. "He was an outstanding officer, Ivanova."

Susan inhaled and straightened. Her eyes swept the open space before she turned her head to glance at Sheridan. "Did he die….honorably?"

"You have never accessed the records?" John asked gently.

"Sinclair told me a little of what happened….no, I haven't…for my own reasons, Captain Sheridan…"Susan turned and put her hip against the edge of the console.

John nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. "He died when pursuing a Minbari scout fighter. We were setting the denotation charges in the asteroid field…if we had been intercepted, or found out…the plan would not have worked. He chose the mission…and he did a damn good job. He tied up the fighter long enough for us to set the charges…"

Susan nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. "I see."

"It was an act of bravery, Ivanova…Ganya…he…it was a suicide mission…" he said, leaning forward a little.

Ivanova remained impassive, only breathing deeply. "Thank you, Sheridan."

John sighed and shook his head. "What else do you need…"

"I will ask my other questions at another time, thank you, Captain Sheridan…" Susan said, forcing a smile to her lips. "I appreciate your answers."

John nodded, clearly at a loss for words. He could see that Ivanova was strung as tight as an bow string. After a minute, he turned and walked away, around the well and out the door, leaving Ivanova in the semi-darkness of the observation dome. When the sound of his bootfalls fell away, Susan lifted one finger to touch at the simple gold ball earring that she wore. A sad smile touched her lips for a moment as she fingered its cool surface. With a slow nod, she lowered her hands back to her console. But even returning to work did not stem her tears….two lone ones fell from her eyes to land on the cool metal surface.

**

"Lennier?"

The young monk bowed slightly as he was joined in the corridor by Delenn. "Delenn…hello."

"You were going somewhere…" Delenn offered, tilting her head to indicate the hallway.

Lennier lowered his head. "I was looking for Captain Sinclair…" he answered, gazing at the floor.

Delenn sighed and shook her head with a slight, secretive smile on her lips. "To ask to join the wedding tomorrow as a guest, no doubt. Lennier, he is a busy man. I'm sure that he is doing everything that he can to see that your request is attended to…"

Delenn and Lennier stopped talking as Ivanova walked by the two holding a strange collection of material. It was red and blue plaid and seemed to be rather large. The Commander stopped to address Delenn. "Delenn…Captain Sheridan had asked me to talk to you about dancing…"

"Ah yes…" Delenn blushed and lowered her head. "Your human ritual. I would very much like to learn…"

Susan nodded. "Come to my quarters tonight…I think I can help you a little with the problem…if you don't mind Mr. Garibaldi lending a hand."

"I will be there, thank you, Susan."

Ivanova nodded and started to walk away when Lennier held out his hand to stop her. "Commander Ivanova, if I might ask…what is this piece of material that you are carrying…"

Susan's lips split wide with a grin. "It is a kilt, Mr. Lennier. A uniform from a certain part of Earth. It is part of Captain Sinclair's heritage and he will be wearing it in the wedding."

Lennier's eyes fell to look at the material and then rose to glance at Ivanova. She nodded once more for good measure and walked down the hallway away from the Minbari. "A uniform…Captain Sinclair's heritage…" he muttered.

Delenn could see the light of curiosity in her attache's eyes. "Lennier…" she said lowly.

"I must research this, Delenn…if you could excuse me…" Lennier bowed hastily and rushed away down thehallway toward his quarters. A kilt…part of a human's heritage. He wondered if this was going to be similar to Mr. Garibaldi's motorbike.

"Commander?"

Susan knew that tone in Jeff's voice. She rolled her eyes and turned to await him in the corridor. "Yes, Captain…"

Sinclair stepped up to talk to her and had to draw apart for several traders as they walked in between them. Once they were past, he nodded to the pile of material that she held in her hand. "My kilt, I presume."

"Actually, it is my favorite blanket, Captain…" Susan said, pushing a smile to her lips. "Although I am willing to part with it, if it means I get to see…."

"Funny, Ivanova…very funny," he grumbled. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her face. "Is everything all right, Susan?"

"Fine. And since I have bumped into you, it means I can leave this with you and get back to the observation dome. We have approximately thirty cargoes to move today, but as much as I wanted to ask Garibaldi to get this for you…I figured I be the easier of the two of us on you…"

"That remains to be seen," he answered, a smile on his face. With a gentle hand, he lifted the plaid and held it up. "It's been ages since I've put one of these on, hope I remember how to get the pleats."

Ivanova released her burden and stood back, her arms crossed over her chest. "May I have a word with you, Captain…it is of a personal nature…"

He chuckled for a moment, "what isn't this week?" He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. "Step into my quarters for a moment."

Susan stepped into his quarters ahead of him, her arms crossed over her chest protectively. Once the door slid shut, she relaxed slightly. Jeff disappeared into his bedroom for a moment and returned without the kilt. He waved his hands to his couch, but she shook her hands. "No, I'll stand…this won't take long…"

"Fine…what is it?" Jeff asked, walking to stand next to her at the bar.

She sighed and looked at him sideways. "I asked Sheridan about my brother…"

Sinclair inhaled and widened his eyes. "That must have been hell, Susan…what did he say?"

"A damn sight more than what is in the records," she answered, shaking her head. "Can I ask you to use the gold pass for the war records? I want to look myself…"

"I thought that you didn't want to…" Jeff began, only to be cut off by Susan's blue eyes turned on him in force.

"I think that I have to…even if I don't want to, Captain…Jeff," she said, earnestly. "I have heard what you told me, and I have heard what Sheridan told me…I want to ask more questions…but I want them to be educated questions…in order to do that, I need to know the facts," she nodded to the side and frowned.

He sighed. "You have permission, Susan. You can do so under my security pass…let me know when, and I'll get you in."

"Thank you…" she said quietly.

"Uh huh. Nope. Instead of thanking me, you can help me with this rehearsal tonight," he smiled.

Susan laughed suddenly, with genuine humor. "You think my diplomacy is that far up to snuff? Fine…deal."

He nodded and drew back. "Deal."

**

"Mr. Garibaldi?"

Michael thought for a moment about continuing to walk and not stopping. If he ignored the young Minbari, it might be misconstrued as an act of rudeness instead of self-preservation, he thought and slowly stopped walking. Lennier was alongside him in less than a breath. "Mr. Garibaldi…"

"Mr. Lennier…what can I do for the Minbari Federation today?" Garibaldi said, his voice just slightly tinged with sarcasm.

"I was wondering if I might ask you some questions, Mr. Garibaldi, as I am unable to find Captain Sinclair," Lennier stated, as he bowed to the Warrant Officer.

Garibaldi crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. "It would be my pleasure…"

Lennier squinted at the tone of Mike's voice but forged on with his questions. "I have been researching this 'kilt', Mr. Garibaldi…an interesting premise. It is a blanket, showing adherence to a certain family or clan, that is worn about the chest and waist. Apparently it was once worn, centuries ago on your planet into battle…"

Mike fought to keep a smile off of his face. "Yes, Lennier, the Captain is a member of the Sinclair clan. He is Scottish…"

"Yes…Scottish…but I thought Captain Sinclair was born on Mars…" Lennier shook his head.

"Look, Lennier…" Mike sighed. "Humans have ethnic classes….they can be called cultural groups. Dependent on geographic location where their ancestors originated, people congregated and bred amongst themselves. It is a historical thing…a part of his…heritage. It is who a Sinclair is…" Garibaldi shook his head. "Damn this is hard to explain. He might have been born on Mars, but his parents were from Scotland…."

"Ah…I see…we have our classes and our houses…you humans have 'cultural groups'. Interesting." Lennier nodded and continued quickly. "And this ritual…this wedding…he will conducted it in that particular groups tradition?"

"Yes, he will. You will see that tomorrow, Lennier, Jeff asked his brother and the ambassadors have permission to attend the ceremony. Now, if you would excuse me…" Garibaldi unfolded his arms and gestured down the hall. "I have a job to do…"

"Yes, of course, forgive me for delaying you. Thank you, Mr. Garibaldi," Lennier said quietly and bowed.

Garibaldi returned the bow with a slight nod and walked down the hall shaking his head. The next two days are going to be very interesting, he thought.

**

"Put your hand in Mr. Garibaldi's, Delenn…" Susan leaned back against her bar. She wore a simple pair of pants, a shirt and a wine colored vest. The interior of her room was filled with soft jazz. "And let him put his arm around your waist."

Mike stood loose, his arms pliable. Delenn frowned and moved into his arms slowly. Her small hand fit into his easily, although, in her mind…not comfortably. "Is it really necessary to be this close?"

Garibaldi grinned. "If you were attending a dance at a Catholic school in Boston, I'd say no….but that isn’t the case. I won't bite, Ambassador…"

"Bite? Why would I worry about you biting? Is that part of the ritual?" Delenn sighed. She put her hand up on Mike's shoulder and his arm settled around her waist. "Is this correct?"

"Any more correct, and we could use you in a dance instruction book," Garibaldi joked.

Susan smiled widely and crossed her arms over her chest. "It is just fine, Delenn…remember how you saw me dancing with Mike? Just listen to the music…and follow Garibaldi's lead."

Delenn bit her lip and sighed. She had watched Susan dance just minutes before with Garibaldi and it had appeared easy. This was a simple human ritual and she wanted to accomplish it as quickly as she could. But it didn't feel right with Michael. "This is not as easy as you made it look, Susan…"

"It will become that way. You just have to practice with a person that you enjoy dancing with…that does not necessarily mean it has to be Mr. Garibaldi," Susan offered.

"Then you practice often with Captain Sinclair…" Delenn said as Mike twirled her around.

Mike's chuckle overwhelmed Susan's sigh. "Oh, they have practiced…" he said, lowly. "I have the wounds to prove it."

Ivanova grunted and leaned back against the bar. "Stuff it, Garibaldi." After a moment, she called out for the music program to play a different selection.

**

Jennah sighed and shook her head. Watching Jeff and Malcolm together was like watching two magnets attracting and repelling at the same time. She had known that marrying into the Sinclair family would be interesting, but she wondered now if trying to reconcile these brothers was going to be her sole purpose in life. Both men stood at the front of the room: both had their hands crossed over their crotches, their legs spread as wide as their shoulders, and both had totally impassive features.

She knew that Malcolm loved his brother. And she knew, just in the short time that she had known Jeff, that he clearly cared about his brother. Neither one of them knew how to show it. Sure, they knew how to be civil, they knew how to joke, but they didn't know how to show each other…or even say to each other…that they cared. And when the subject was breached, they both only admitted feelings under the guise of anger.

It came from loosing their father early in life, and it was doubled by the effect of war in Jeff. She sighed as she watched the two of them smile at a joke from Michael. All it would take was a nexus, a…catalyst to bring them together, and that, she knew, was the hardest thing to find.

"Are you ready, Jennah?"

The young woman shook her head minutely as if to clear it. "Yes….Susan…sorry, was just thinking…."

"It's quite all right…" Ivanova said quietly. "I think they are ready for you, though…"

"Jeff and Malcolm are chomping at the bits, aren't they?" Jennah laughed heavily. "Two peas in a pod, those two…yes, I'm ready."

Susan's lips quirked and then widened into a smile. As the two women walked to the front of the observation room, she put her hands behind her back and nodded. "Is there anything you will need tomorrow, Jennah?"

"Yes…" the red head faced forward and nodded toward Sinclair. "As Jeff will be busy…and I know no one else on the station…I need another witness…a maid of honor?"

Ivanova stopped walking and swung around to stare at the shorter younger woman. "Maid of honor?"

"I need a witness…and I need someone to stand with me…" Jennah smiled and held out her hand.

Ivanova looked down at the open palm and up into the woman's earnest face. She only considered for a moment before she inclined her head and nodded. "I would be honored, Jennah…"

**

"It's getting caught between those Narn and Centauri that bothers me, Killran…I mean what is an honest gun runner supposed to do? If you break the Centauri blockade on Narn and deliver guns, you are marked by those plume-headed warlords…if you don't deliver on time, you are made known to that assassin guild of the Narns. God…I wouldn't wish that on my worse enemy. Christ…I wish this damned war would end so I can go back to earning…."

The man stopped talking to his friend and stared at Commander Ivanova as she walked down the hall. The blue dress that she wore was form fitting and very elegant. Her cinnamon hair was loose except for a single braid hidden in the long tresses. Her make-up was lighter than usual, making her face seem young and free. Her walk, however, still showed that she meant business. She swept by them and continued down the hall, hooking a left as the corridor joined with the main way in the Zocalo.

"Would you look at that, Killran…that's Commander Ivanova…man if she doesn't look different…she cleans up real fine…"

His friend watched as the door slid shut and nodded enthusiastically. "I'd like to help her with some 'command' decisions…"

Both friends laughed, clapping each other on the back for a moment before they turned back to discussing their problems and lives.

**

Jennah paced in front of the door to the observation deck with her head down and her hands clasped nervously in front of her. Ivanova smiled and slowed her pace as she neared the woman, knowing inherently that a fast movement might very well send the woman into a fit of nerves. When she was close enough to be heard without talking loudly, she said: "Jennah…you look like you are about to bolt."

The woman smiled, nervously with a slight twitch of her lips. "And now you see the true reason for me asking you to be my witness: to keep me from bolting. Thank you for not wearing your uniform."

Ivanova looked down at her dress. "I haven't worn this in years, Jennah. I'm surprised that anything I have other than the uniform fits," she quipped. Jennah glanced down at Susan's hands. The young officer held to bouquets of flowers…exotic ones…ones that Jennah had not seen previously. Seeing the glance, Ivanova walked forward and handed her the larger of the two. "They are starlaces and Minbari hearts…they are meant to bring good luck. Ambassador Delenn gave them to me last night to give to you for you and I to carry. It is a way of giving a blessing to the marriage."

"I'll have to say thank you," Jennah commented, lowering her nose to smell the wonderful aroma that rose from the blooms. "And I am glad you are in the dress. It was the main reason that Malcolm wanted Jeff in the kilt…to get him out of that uniform. The last thing he wanted was to have an Earth Force wedding. Everything else in his life has been involved with Earth Force…its not the most healthy reaction, I know, but…its his wedding as well as mine."

Ivanova nodded once, concisely. "There is some animosity between the Captain and Malcolm, isn't there?"

Jennah turned, almost embarassed to look at her new friend. "You are Jeff's Exec, I shouldn't be…"

"I'm his friend as well," Susan answered, holding up her hand. "And I do know that he is not perfect…no man is."

Jennah smiled, and agreed. "Yes, but still…regardless of the problems…they love each other…"

Susan glanced into the observation deck where Jeff and Malcolm stood near a small podium. They looked like twins from that distance. Both tall and dark, both dressed in kilts with stark white socks, dark jackets. They looked broad, powerful, strong…like ancient Celtic warriors. "It is obvious that they do…at least I can tell you that Jeff does care about Malcolm."

Jennah nodded and nearly jumped as she heard the chiming of music. "Oh…"

"That is our cue, Jennah…"Susan said, quietly.

**

"Is there anyone among us that has any reason why Malcolm and Jennah should not be joined in marriage? Speak now, or forever hold your peace."

John had always wondered at that line. He shifted his hips, but remained standing, his arms calmly and comfortably crossed over his groin. If someone actually did not want to see a couple married…why in the name of hell would they attend the wedding? With a smile, he watched Delenn and Lennier struggle to understand the underlying tones of culture that the wedding was portraying. The younger Minbari male leaned over slightly and glanced up at Sheridan. John knew the question before it was asked.

"What is the importance of the question, Captain Sheridan? Haven't each of the betrothed's families or clans approved of the other?" Lennier asked, whispering just above the level of decorum.

Delenn, standing on the other side of Sheridan, leaned over and shook her head. "Humans do not go through an approval regimen as we do, Lennier."

The young Minbari leaned around Sheridan and bowed to Delenn. "Then this question does have importance."

Delenn nodded, almost enthusiastically. "It does, Lennier."

With a sigh, John rolled his eyes. In the silence that had followed the asking of the question their voices were loud. Sinclair was half-smiling from his stance in front of the room. Malcolm and Jennah were too nervous to be glancing around at all. But it was Susan's shake of her head that made John smile.

As Jeff continued the ceremony, Lennier lapsed into a studious silence. It lasted and made Sheridan relax slightly. Until Jeff had to turn and retrieve a ribbon from the altar behind him. As he bent a little, the kilt listed dangerously high on the man's thigh. Susan shifted her hips and smiled widely, meeting Garibaldi's eyes as the man stood in the front row. Sheridan stifled a smile, and was successful, until Lennier commented on the occurrence:

"Captain Sheridan," he whispered, conversationally, "kilts were worn by the Scottish clans for several centuries. But it is well known that Celtic warriors were often seen entering battle naked."

Sheridan sighed and stifled a chuckle. Sinclair caught the exchange and sent a glare at John and Lennier that would have felled a tree. With a lowered head, John answered Lennier. "I'll make you a deal, Lennier…stay quiet for the ceremony and I'll answer any questions you have later."

Lennier glanced around and his markings turned a wonderful dark blue in embarassment.

The ceremony was completed in silence.

**

"Careful, Captain…I understand there is a call for breezy weather," Garibaldi said as he passed Sinclair.

"Ha ha, Michael," Sinclair growled in response. Jeff turned to continue retorting to his Security chief only to find that he had to lift the glass of scotch and Susan's vodka high overhead to avoid the influx of people to the bar. Several aliens nodded to him and he tried his best to look like the perfect Earth Force Captain, but it was rather hard with a gust of cold air blowing up his thighs. "Christ," he muttered and stepped away from the bar with a grunt.

Garibaldi smiled and joined his friend in walking back through the Dark Star. They had moved the wedding party to the club to add a festive atmosphere. The small side room that they had taken was filled completely with the Narn delegation, Vir, Mollari and three female guests, Delenn, Lennier, John, Susan, Corwin, and Malcolm and Jennah. Sinclair heard a loud yelp of a laugh from Mollari and shook his head at his friend. "Ten to one, Mike, Mollari is on the table again."

Michael looked around the door and sighed. "Not yet, Captain. But it does look like Jennah is having a great time."

Jeff entered the room first, shifting his carried drinks around to avoid a twirling Centauri dancer. With a glance back at Garibaldi as if to say that his second in command was somehow responsible for the situation, he moved to the back table.

Michael shook his head and remained at the front door. As if on cue, Franklin returned from the bar and stood at the door with the Security Chief. "What a bunch," Stephen sighed, nodding to the room.

"This will only last for tonight, Franklin…take a picture…tomorrow…everyone will be back to yelling at each other," Garibaldi answered and walked down into the room, Franklin following behind.

Jeff slid into the bench seat and handed Susan her drink. As he took a long sip from his, he nodded to the floor where Jennah and Malcolm were dancing. Occassionally, they heard the ringing laugh of Jennah over the music. It brought a smile to Sinclair's face…the same loose toothy one that Susan had seen rarely. Where they sat, the table was wrapped in low lighting.

As Susan watched the floor, John appeared, leading Delenn by the hand. Ivanova smiled and waved to the ambassador as Sheridan spun the small Minbari woman around to land in his arms. The surprised look on Delenn's face made the young Commander sigh.

"What?" Jeff asked, leaning forward on his arms, his hands looped around his glass.

Susan glanced around and caught the Captain staring at her in the dim atmosphere. "Ambassador Delenn…Garibaldi and I taught her to dance last night…I hope…" her voice drifted off as the couple started dancing across the floor.

**

"Captain Sheridan…" Delenn breathed a gentle laugh. "This is not quite what Mr. Garibaldi taught me last night…"

"I hope not," John muttered and moved his hand lower on her waist. He kept his eyes trained on hers to see if she objected. He decided to ask anyway. "Is this acceptable?"

Delenn was busy remembering the proper placement of her feet and was unable to answer him for a few long seconds. When the question did register in her mind, she looked up at him. Was how he was holding her acceptable? She could feel his hands, large and warm against her waist and holding her hand. His chest, broad and hard was against hers and his legs were moving with every small move that she made. How he was holding her made her want to smile and laugh. It was very acceptable. In a quiet, almost husky voice, she answered him: "Quite, Captain Sheridan….quite."

**

"She is fine, Commander," Jeff answered gruffly, and looked down at his glass. He could see Delenn's easy smile on her face, and he could see the spark in John's eyes. "And enjoying herself….immensely."

Susan turned and lifted her eyebrows. Her vodka glass was almost empty for the fifth time. "Captain, I do believe you sound as though you would like to join them on the floor."

"Normally I would say yes, Susan. You know that. But not tonight…not in this kilt," Sinclair sighed and leaned back in the seat. He continued to stare at Ivanova even after she smiled and turned to watch the dancers on the floor. He wanted to feel as easy as everyone else was that evening, but something in him held him back. But as his eyes skirted from Susan's hair to her shoulders to the long curly hair to her body, he realized that there really was nothing holding him back. The dress that she wore was beautiful on her…and the way that the light played across her features was like moonbeams painting pictures. And he could tell that she wanted to dance. "Unless…"

She turned back, languid, to look at him. "Yes, Captain?"

He rose and walked around the table and reached for her hands. "Let's dance, Ivanova."

"But…" she glanced up at him. He could see the dull shine of languid ease in her eyes. The evening was suiting her well.

"It's my brother's wedding…let me enjoy it. Come on, Ivanova…we have a history of being dance partners. To hell with this damn kilt."

Ivanova smiled very easily and let the Captain lead her to the floor. As he led her to begin dancing, she laid her hands low on his back. "This damn kilt might attract more attention than your…shall we say…well-studied dance moves, Captain."

"You have had too much to drink, Commander," he said, quietly, serious. "No more for you."

Susan sighed and leaned back against his arms as they wrapped around her waist. "What…I'm actually telling you that I like the kilt, Captain Jeffrey Sinclair of Babylon 5, and that you do look…well…in it."

He lifted an eyebrow and looked down at her. She smiled easily in a haze of alcohol and happy times. "Well? No…veiled insults? No…hidden teasings? Ivanova, are you going soft on me?"

She laughed as an answer and allowed him to twirl her around the floor.

**

Malcolm let Jeff cut in with Jennah and equally easily let Susan enter into his arms. The music was a low jazz and he could tell that the young Commander still wanted to dance. As the smiling Russian eased into his loose dancing embrace, he laughed. "You look like you are having a fine time. My brother actually did not bore you. I do believe that is a first, Susan."

"Congratulations, Malcolm. Jeff never bores me," Susan answered quietly, still smiling. "He is taken with Jennah, you know. I have never seen him so…free with someone."

Malcolm smiled widely and nodded. "I have….once…" He twirled the Commander and let the music lead the both of them. For some reason, he did not want to tell her…knew that she would not believe…that the person that he had noticed his brother's ease with…was her.

"Come on, Commander…" Garibaldi said, letting Susan lean on his arm. "It's time you went to bed. Christ you are fried."

"Just having fun, Garibaldi," Susan muttered, rubbing her forehead. "Thanks for the last two dances."

Mike shrugged and reached for his security pass to open her quarters for her. "Yeah, well…my pleasure…but I think your head is going to be doing mutiny tomorrow. How much did you drink?"

"Enough that I think I flirted with the Captain…shit," she said, leaning against the wall.

Garibaldi grabbed her arm and pushed her through the door. "Which one…John or Jeff?"

"Jeff," Susan groaned as she folded her legs and sat on her couch. Mike shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. After a minute, he leaned forward and sighed.

"You need water or something, Commander? I'm going to head out….I'll talk with you tomorrow."

"I'm fine, Garibaldi."

He nodded one last time and walked to the door. "Eat something and get some sleep…take it from a man that over indulged often in the finer liquors."

She smiled and nodded and when the door closed behind him, she leaned back into the cushions. In her pocket was Jeff's security pass. He had handed it to her at the last minute before the party had broken up. He knew that she would be unable to sleep. "Find your questions," had been the last thing he said.

Palming the pass, she chewed on her lip. Two minutes later, still feeling a tad bit unsteady, but ready to take on the world, Commander Susan Ivanova sat down in front of her computer terminal and slipped Sinclair's security pass through the terminal. As she waited, she fetched a glass of water and changed into a nightdress. Soon, when she returned to the chair, the prompt was waiting and she quietly ordered: "All records for Ganya Ivanov…Earth Minbari war."

**

Jeff had just settled into bed after escorting his brother and his new wife to their quarters. They would leave the next day on a transport for Proxima 3. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he sighed, relaxed. The scotch had had its intended effect. Hell, the vodka had had its effect as well. With a smile, he closed his eyes, only to have his door chime sound almost immediately.

It took him several moments to try and locate his robe, but opted for just answering the door as he was…clad in sleep pants. Damn, he thought, if someone was foolish enough to call him at 2 0'clock AM, then they could handle him in his night clothes. It was obvious that it was not official.

But when the doors opened, and a visibly upset Susan Ivanova entered his room, he wondered whether it might be official. "Ivanova? Commander?"

Her hand shook as she handed his security pass back to him. "Thank you, Captain," was all she said and turned to leave. He could see her unsteady gait…her body still racked with the after effects of alcohol. As she walked back toward the door, he reached out to stop her.

"Susan?" he asked, his hand wrapping around her arm. "What? What is it?"

"I found my questions," she said simply. "I will see you shift tomorrow."

"You are not on shift tomorrow," he said, forcefully. "Christ….Ivanova…its your brother, isn't it? Ganya."

She nodded, turning to look at him. He watched as her face turned from impassive to hurt. She didn't offer anything by way of conversation, instead, just staring at him. After a minute, she sighed. "I have to leave."

"You came here for reason, Ivanova. You wanted to talk." He said, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand.

"No…" her mouth worked for moment. "I'm drunk, Captain."

He sputtered a laugh and nodded. "That is obvious."

"I came here…" she sighed, reaching out to lean on his bar. "I came here for…"

He leaned forward and glanced in her eyes. It was clear that tears had recently fallen, but that she had, even drunk, painstakenly dried them. He nodded, understanding. With a smile, he opened his arms. "You want comfort. Fine. Come here, Commander."

She looked startled. He stepped forward. "That is an order, Commander. Come here."

After a second, or a heartbeat, whatever came first, she moved forward and leaned into his chest. He could smell the vodka on her and knew that she had drank more after returning to her quarters. With a grunt, he enclosed her in a bear hug and rubbed her hair. His voice called out to dim what lights remained and he stood, giving her the comfort that she had to drink to gain the courage to seek.

**

John didn't know if purgatory was an actual physical place. But if it was a state of mind, he had found it. With Lennier sitting on one side and Delenn on the other, he felt like he was caught between heaven and hell. He wanted to talk with Delenn…to strengthen the friendship that he felt forming with the small Minbari Ambassador. But he definitely did not want to answer the questions that Lennier had laid out for him.

"Exactly what is a 'honeymoon'?" Lennier asked, leaning forward to glance at the Earth Force Captain.

John rolled his eyes and sighed. He wanted to run, but stayed where he was when Delenn lowered her small boned hand to hold his. He found some sort of strength in the touch. The dance the night before with Delenn had been wonderful. For such a small, intelligent woman, the innocence that she had shown as she relied on his leadership on the dance floor was…as refreshing as it was different. He was used to women that knew their way around a man.

The small, almost endearing smile that she bestowed on him as she waited for his answer was equally refreshing. He took a deep breath and nodded. "Well, Lennier…"

**

"My God…whoever is hammering in my head…they need to stop."

Sinclair smiled from where he reclined on the couch and relaxed his neck muscles. Sleeping on Susan's couch had not been the most comfortable position for him, but the late hour at which he had escorted her back to her quarters had dictated that he stay. Susan's voice in the morning was duskier, heavier from sleep and the clear complaint was enough to make the situation comedic. Suddenly she appeared at the door of her bedroom and glanced at the couch. "Christ…"

He sat up and eased the blanket from his shoulders, glancing over at her. "I made coffee this morning, Ivanova…the pot is on simmer. Good morning."

"Christ…I remember you escorting me back here…at least I think I do," she muttered, rubbing her forehead.

"I doubt that," he answered, quietly. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit…" she sighed and pressed her fingers into the area above her nose. After a moment, she looked at him again. "Sir…I mean…Captain…"

"With a hangover like the one you are going to have, Susan, call me Jeff…its only one syllable…you should be able to manage it," he said, smiling widely suddenly. He rose to his feet and she saw that he had on his white military shirt and a pair of blue pants that definitely looked slept in.

"Wonderful, kick me when I am down, Jeff," she grit out and stumbled forward to the bar. There was a small pot of coffee that awaited her. "Thank you…for getting me back here that is…I was pretty…"

"Toasted, wasted, and fried," he supplied, folding the blanket and putting it back on her couch. "I took the liberty of sleeping on your couch, Ivanova…it was the only thing I could do at three thirty in the morning."

She nodded, sighing. There was little she could say feeling as she did. "What time is it now?" she asked, reaching for a mug.

"Time for me to go and see Malcolm and Jennah off. You wanted to go…is that still a viable plan?"

"Yes," she took a sip of black coffee and groaned. After another sip, she glanced over at him. "I…didn't mean to have you end up here…and I didn't mean to end up in your quarters, either….it just…I…Christ…when I can think straight…this conversation will make more sense…"

He held up a hand and shook his head. "You ended up where you needed to be."

Turning she limped towards her bedroom. After a minute, she stopped and faced him. "Did I…"

He stopped her with a slight shake of his head. "You did nothing to be embarassed about, Ivanova."

Susan sighed, rubbing her head and nodded. She continued into her bedroom and shut the door. Jeff was left to his own thoughts as he was cut off from his second in command. Sinclair had been honest. Susan had done nothing of which to be ashamed. He closed his eyes and leaned against the bar. He had held her as she cried; he could feel the tears running down his bare chest. Her small hands had clenched at his back. Her hair was tossed, mussed and she had sniffled into his chest often. After an hour, he had moved them to his couch and had asked her questions about Ganya…about the information…about her…and she answered them honestly.

Lifting the cup to his lips, he sipped the coffee as well. After returning to her quarters, he had tucked his barely conscious Commander into her bed and had sat down in her living room. The computer holding the information was still on. He had perused the information, understanding, probably better than she knew, the pain that she felt. Her brother's story could well have been his own…could well have been anyone that he had served with on the Line.

And it drove home the idea that all life had a fixed ending point. Susan had faced her brother's the night previous. And he still had to face his own….the ending that he sometimes felt had already happened.

"Jeff!"

Sinclair pressed his hand against Ivanova's back to keep her moving. She wore her earth force uniform proudly, but he could tell by the pastiness of her complexion that it was taking a lot of strength to keep her moving forward. Malcolm saw what was slowing his brother and smiled. Sinclair returned the look and continued to escort Ivanova toward the loading bay. Jennah joined in the humor as she saw the extent of Ivanova's hangover.

"Don't…." Susan breathed as she saw Garibaldi amongst the group at the landing bay. "Don't start, Garibaldi…I can still shoot straight."

With a grunt, she stopped next to her friend. She ignored his look and tried to give Jennah a smile. "Good morning, Jennah. You ready for Proxima?"

"She is more ready for Proxima than you are for walking, Ivanova," Garibaldi intoned, out of the corner of his mouth. He maintained the gaze until Susan growled and then smiled widely.

Jennah laid her hand on Susan's arm and nodded. "Yes. And I want to thank you for supporting me yesterday."

Ivanova nodded. "It was my pleasure."

Sinclair gave the others a slight smile and moved off to the side with his brother.

When the two men had distance from the rest of the group, Jeff turned to his brother. "Malcolm." He held his hand out to his brother in congratulatory warmth. His younger brother glanced down at the hand and back up into Jeff's warm, swirling brown eyes. Sinclair retracted the hand after a minute and reached out to give his brother a hug. The two men clapped each other on back and smiled. When they drew apart, Malcolm grinned.

"We’ll be on Proxima 3 for two weeks…and then home. I have another month of required leave before I have to report back to the firm. You know…required leave out of space construction…and when we are back home…we would really appreciate seeing you. Jennah wants to get to know you…and I want to see my brother…you are the only family I have now, Jeff."

Jeff retracted his hands and put them in his pockets. He rocked back on his heels and nodded. "I know, Mal. I know. I can't promise much, but I can promise that I will make an effort to get there. But it is…."

Malcolm nodded, but his brother did not see the agreement. Jeff had his head lowered to look at the floor. "It is hard, Jeff."

Sinclair grunted assent. After a minute, Malcolm reached out to touch and hold his brother's shoulder. "Look…Jeff…you are welcome with us. The offer will always remain open. Just remember, big brother, that there is more to live for in this life than Earth Force, and…you find meaning in the damnedest places…" Malcolm seemed to weigh a thought for a few moments. A slight nod marked when he made a decision. "I know one thing about you, Jeffrey, that I don't think anyone else does. And that knowledge ties to my faith…and yours. If you were meant to die on the Line, Jeff…you would have died. No one is taken before their purpose is served. And yours…is not…or you would not be standing here. Try and remember that, Jeff...you are not dead...don't act like it."

Malcolm prepared himself for an verbal onslaught, but found himself under a steady, warm gaze. What was even more surprising was the quiet, controlled chuckle that came from his brother's chest. "Damn if you don’t sound just like Mike."

"I always liked that guy," Malcolm quipped back. "Sounds like he is the only sane person around here."

"Or you are as insane as he is," Jeff rumbled. "I appreciate it, Malcolm, I really do."

"Appreciate, but don't agree…I know…I know…" Malcolm held up his hands to stem any arguments. "Thank you for presiding over the ceremony."

"You are welcome, Malcolm," Jeff answered, glancing down at the ground and then back up at Malcolm. "And thank you for marrying Jennah…she is going to add a hell of a lot of color to this family."

"I would love to see what you are going to end up bringing home," Malcolm added as both men turned in tandem to walk back to the group. "Speaking of which….how is Catherine?"

"Fine. Exploring…as far from here as possible, but fine."

"Is there anyone else?" Malcolm asked, glancing over at Ivanova as she laughed with Jennah. He smiled as the young Commander reached to hold her head.

"No. Come on, you know me, Malcolm. Who the hell would put up with my…"

"Shit? You would be surprised what will be overlooked in love, Jeff. And I think this is the one area that I can talk about with some measure of expertise. Just…let what happens…happen. Love can't be ordered around, regardless of what you learned in Earth Academy."

Jeff opened his mouth, but found a laugh bubbling to the surface. They started walking again toward the group. When they joined the others, Garibaldi reached out to shake Malcolm's hand. "It was good to see you again, Sinclair…you gonna be in the neighborhood again?"

After a short period of time and a lot of jumbled conversation among the small group of friends, Malcolm and Jennah left. As Jennah walked away, she turned back and leaned into her brother-in-law, hugging him tightly. Jeff smiled sweetly, allowing the embrace and returning it. She smiled into his chest and then pushed away. "Take care of yourself, Jeff."

"And you too…keep an eye on Malcolm for me?" Jeff answered, leaning away from her.

"Always."

With that last exchange, the two newlyweds moved to the transport, holding hands. Garibaldi and Ivanova turned to leave and went several feet before they noticed that Jeff was not with them. Turning back, they spotted the errant Captain resting against a pile of boxes, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the retreating couple.

Garibaldi glanced at Susan; the Commander returned the stare and tugged on his arm with a shake of her head. She knew that he was thinking about family and the loneliness of serving in space. It was not a time to interrupt him. And it was not a time to remind him of duty. It was a time for him.

**

"Come on, Stephen…" Garibaldi retrieved a spoonful of his 'secret' sauce and drizzled it over the pasta. "Just one meal of decadent, succulent pasta will not kill you…hell, it will give new meaning to the word diet."

Sinclair fetched a glass of water from the kitchen and passed his friend on the way back to his chair. "Decadent? Succulent?"

"I spent the afternoon finding new words to describe my cooking," Mike answered as he walked around the bar to put the plate down in front of Franklin. Stephen lifted his eyebrows and stared at the food on the plate.

"That just might clog my arteries on the first try," Franklin grumbled. "Next thing you know, you will be giving me a beer to wash the food down with…"

"It can be arranged," Jeff answered. He sat down and shook out his napkin. Sheridan met his contemporary's eyes and grinned.

"Stop smiling, Captain Sheridan," Franklin answered, having eyes only for his food. As he picked up his fork, he continued. "I think you should come and see me tomorrow in Medlab 6."

Garibaldi whistled and Jeff smiled. Sheridan opened his mouth to answer, but knew better. Ten to one, he had a diet headed his way the next day. "Ah hell."

The four men sat around the table and began to eat, talking lowly of nothing in particular. It was a causal night.

"Ivanova doesn't mind missing this, does she?" Garibaldi asked, twirling his pasta on his spoon.

Jeff swallowed and shook his head. "No…her idea of a night off of the meal plan is to graze on rabbit food, as Sheridan so eloquently puts it."

"She does not know what she is missing," Mike sighed as he filled his mouth with the pasta, the white sauce dripping off of his spoon and back down into the plate.

**

"I will send him to see you at his next possible convenience, Ambassador Mollari." Ivanova grit out.

"It is of great importance, Commander Ivanova, see that he gets the message soon," Mollari answered and moved away from the screen. The flat surface next showed a rather slimming visage of Vir. The assistant smiled and nodded.

"Thank him for the invite to his brother's wedding, Commander Ivanova. It was cause for celebration and was thoroughly enjoyed."

Ivanova gave a curt, controlled smile and reached forward to end the transmission. She did not want to be the last one on line with the Centauri. To her, control of a conversation was control of the situation. As the screen went blank, she leaned back on the bar at Station 1 and sighed.

She was the only one on command. She liked it when it was quiet and the deck was hers alone. The lights were dim and she checked the stations for the night, wanting to close it down and go to bed. Even after two days, her head still hurt from the hangover. As she walked down the bay of controls, she checked and flicked several switches.

The quiet was split as the communication terminal lit up and filled the air with loud beeping.

"Hell…what is it now?" Susan muttered and leaned over the panel. It was a next of kin communique and Susan frowned. When this type of information came in, through the main communication panel on the comm, it was up to her, Captain Sheridan or Captain Sinclair to convey the message to the family member. She hated doing the duty, but as she was the only one on the comm at the time, it was her job to do so.

"Computer, print." She called and walked over to grab the flimsy. She could read it on her way to the quarters area.

She unbuttoned her collar and walked toward the door, only to stop…dead in her tracks. The name on the top of the communique made her breath stop.

Jeffrey David Sinclair, Captain, Earth Force Station, Babylon 5

She stumbled to the nearest chair, collapsing into the structure with a groan. Not Jennah or Malcolm, she thought. Taking a deep breath, she glanced back down at the flimsy.

It is with the deepest sympathy that we inform you of the death of Catherine Sakai, independent Captain, Earth Alliance exploratory vessel, The Rising Star. The Rising Star was lost to a catastrophic accident during planetfall on Zeta 1123. All the crew was lost.

Christ.

Susan leapt out of the chair and pushed for the door. She had a burst of energy, but did not know why or how. The news would kill him. And, as she entered the main corridor, she realized that she was running from the fact that she would have to inform him of the passing of Catherine. With a deep breath, she reached down to straighten her jacket. The least she could do, she thought as she entered the lift, was to give him the news in a compassionate manner and offer support.

**

"Jeff…"

"Captain?"

"Sinclair…."

The names rolled passed his ears and over his mind, but none registered. He held out his hand to take the flimsy from Susan. He did not understand why there were tears in her eyes. He could barely feel anything. Ivanova handed over the flimsy, but tilted her head to the side to keep his eyes trained with hers. With a nod, Jeff answered the question that was there in her eyes. "Thank you, Ivanova."

Susan took a deep breath and shook her head. "Don't thank me…."

"Thank you for doing it with some measure of dignity. I'm glad it was you," he said and looked back down at the flimsy. Sheridan and Garibaldi started forward to offer support, but Sinclair held up his hand to stop them. "No."

Franklin threw down his napkin that he still held in his hand. "Captain Sinclair…."

"I'm fine. But, Mike, if you wouldn't mind…I think I am going to head back to my quarters." Without waiting for an answer, he walked forward and let the door slip open and close behind him. Susan groaned as the door shut. Mike and John shoved their hands into their pockets and agreed with her estimation of the situation.

Franklin was the only one that was antsy to move. He strode to the door, only to have Ivanova reach out and stop him. Stephen turned to the Commander and shook off her hand. "Someone needs to talk with him."

"Not tonight," Mike answered, hanging his head.

"But…" Franklin spat out only to be interrupted by Susan.

"He will not talk. Not tonight. Probably not for a while. He wants peace to lick his wounds…and peace to think." Susan answered. "Of all the hellish things to happen on today of all days…"

"Did you know her well?" Franklin asked.

Susan shook her head. "Only that she and the Captain had a long period of acquaintance and a history of relationships." She looked to Mike who just shrugged.

"She was quiet, kinda a keep to herself kind of person. Just like Jeff. Her aunt died about a year ago and Jeff was added as her next of kin." Garibaldi crossed his arms over his chest and tightened his grip. "I'll look for him tomorrow. Tonight…is just for him."

Sheridan rubbed his eyes. "Take him off of the comm tomorrow, Ivanova…give him a day or two. I'll take his first shift…do you want to take his second? I knew Catherine too, went through the academy with us. She was a smart tack of a woman; strong…and a great pilot."

Susan nodded and relaxed back into the cushions of the couch that she collapsed into. The small group of friends lapsed into silence.

 **

The only light in his quarters was from the desk. On the desk was only a crumpled flimsy and a small glass of water. Next to the desk, in the dark shadow that it threw on the surrounding area, sat Sinclair. His hands were folded in his lap and his eyes were fixed on the small window that he could see from his seat.

There were no tears. There were no moans or restless fidgeting. There was only him and the darkness, both within and without.