GIRLS IN SPACE!!!!!
Maia was laying face down on her bed, her head throbbing a little after a day back at school. The Ivanova was leaning against the hull of Zathras’s odd little ship in the park when Maia hurried up, her arms folded across her uniformed chest. She straightened and grinned at the other girl.
“Hey,” she greeted simply
“Hey,” Maia replied a bit breathlessly, looking with wide eyes at the ship. “So this is it?”
“Yep,” Ivanova replied. “It’s a bit small for three, but we’ll make due.” She pounded a fist on the hull. “Oi, Zathras! She’s here, let’s go!”
There was a disgruntled muttering from the other side of the side as a hatch hissed open. “. . . not know why he have to take two, the One only send Zathras for one, Zathras not taxi service fro whole galaxy . . .”
He came around the side of the ship in his usual bent shuffle and Maia jumped, stifling a shocked shriek into a little ‘eep!’. Zathras jumped when she did, scuttling back a few steps. Maia shrunk back against Ivanova with wide eyes and Ivanova began to get second thoughts about this whole thing. She stepped between them. “Maia, Zathras. Zathras, Maia. He’s harmless.”
“Zathras very pleased to be meeting you,” Zathras put in with one of his bobbing bows.
“Y-you too, Zathras,” Maia offered shakily.
Zathras broke into a toothy grin. “Come along, come along, we are not having all night,” he said, swiftly taking her bag and ushering them into the ship. “Well, we are having all night because of nature of time, but you knowing what Zathras is meaning.”
Ivanova stepped back to allow Maia to step in first, and as soon as they were settled, cramped together in the small space, she leaned over and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?” She took Maia’s hand and squeezed it slightly. “You’re going to see some weirder things than Zathras. And Babylon 5 isn’t the safest place in the galaxy.”
Maia twined their fingers more tightly and nodded. “I want to see the place you call home,” she said softly. “I want to see the place that can produce someone as wonderful as you.” She offered Ivanova a small smile despite her nervousness.
Zathras grunted as he settled into the pilot’s seat. “Zathras still not be thinking bringing home random hook-ups is a good idea. But who is Zathras to judge?”
***
Sheridan was pacing outside the docking slip, entering as soon as the door indicated that the area was pressurized. He strode over to the shop, almost ignoring Zathras except for a nod of thanks. “Susan,” he said, reaching for her as the dark-haired girl exited. “Thank God you’re -” He stopped abruptly when Ivanova gave him a flat look and turned to help a younger blonde girl step out. Sheridan looked classically confused Sheridan at this point. “Who’s -”
“This is my friend, Maia,” Ivanova said, draping an arm around her shoulders. “We had plans this weekend. I brought her along.” She turned to Maia. “John Sheridan, President of the Interstellar Alliance,” she introduced him.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. President,” Maia squeaked automatically, extending a hand rather timidly.
“You as well,” Sheridan replied, shaking her hand almost absently. “Susan, are you -”
“She asked to come, John,” Ivanova said firmly. “She’s staying.”
Maia witnessed a silent battle of wills, the president still holding her hand, and watched Ivanova stare down the most important man in the galaxy. She always managed to outmacho him. Sheridan released Maia’s hand and stepped away. “Alright, alright. I’ll have another set of quarters for -”
“That won’t be necessary,” Ivanova said, just as firmly, her arm tightening around Maia a bit. Maia felt a warm feeling bubble through her at Ivanova’s vehemence in front of this man.
Sheridan looked confused for a moment before a few loose braincells fired and he nodded. “Oh. Right. Sure.” He stood to one side to gesture them out the door and Ivanova took the lead, her arm slipping from Maia’s shoulders as she seemed to grow into the role that she had resumed the moment they set foot on the station. Maia followed, her eyes widening as she saw Captain Ivanova of EarthForce for the first time, and Sheridan brought up the rear, feeling a little lost still.
“That quite alright, Zathras be just fine on his own, he is thanking you for asking,” Zathras said to an empty hanger.
***
Zack Allen was summoned and met them outside the Zocalo, a grin spreading over his face at the sight of Ivanova. “Hey, Com - Captain. I didn’t know you were back.”
“I’m not,” Ivanova replied dryly. “On loan only. Zack, this is Maia Rutledge. Maia, Zack Allen, chief of security.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Rutledge,” Zack said with a smile, shaking her hand.
“You, too, Mr. Allen,” Maia replied, returning the smile. He seemed nice enough. And, apparently, fully human.
Sheridan clapped a hand on Zack’s shoulder. “Zack! I was thinking you could show Miss Rutledge around while the Captain and I get to work.”
“Oh, you’re here for that whole Drazi thing,” Zack said, clueing in with a nod. He smirked. “Good luck.”
“Show her around and then make sure she gets to Ivanova’s quarters in one piece,” Sheridan ordered, beginning to steer Ivanova away.
“Susan?” Maia blurted out, resisting the urge to cling to the other girl, looking rather intimidated and clearly not wanting to be separated.
Ivanova stepped up to her and stroked a finger down her cheek with a soft look in her eyes. “It’ll be fine,” she murmured. “Zack’s a good guy. He’ll take care of you.”
Maia nodded. “Alright,” she said softly. “I know you have to work.” She still didn’t look too happy about it.
Ivanova smiled. “I’ll see you later,” she promised, and then kissed her softly before turning and striding in the direction Sheridan had indicated, the president tagging along.
Zack shook his head mournfully. “Damn. All the best ones really are dead, gay, or taken.”
“I thought that was supposed to be men, Mr. Allen,” Maia said with a small smirk.
Zack shrugged as he sauntered down the hallway at Maia’s side. “Works both ways. Call me Zack, by the way. Now, through here we’ve got the Zocalo . . .”
***
The door sliding open startled an already jumpy Maia, who looked up from the magazine that she was flipping through on the bed. Ivanova stormed in, wrenching a green scarf off her neck.
“I am going to kill him!” she roared, flinging it violently in the general direction of a chair as she threw up her hands and paced in short, jerky steps.
“What happened?” Maia asked, moving off the bed but hesitating as she reached out, shrinking back a bit under Ivanova’s evident ire.
“That idiot called me back here over some sort of ridiculous diplomatic snafu,” Ivanova snarled. “I am going to kill him.” She halted her angry pacing to jab a finger in Maia’s direction. “All I wanted was some quiet time with you and then John had to be a politically correct asshole.”
“. . . you wanted some quiet time with me?” Maia squeaked.
Ivanova halted her tirade and softened. “Of course I did, Maia.” She moved over to her and cupped her cheek, stroking it softly with her thumb. “I do. That’s why I’m so pissed off at John at the moment.” A growl entered her last words, but she shook it off. “Don’t worry about it,” she murmured, cutting off the other girl’s look of concern. “It’s politics. I hate politics.” Her lips curved into a smirk as her hand slid around to the back of Maia’s neck. “You, on the other hand, I most definitely do not hate.”
Maia was already leaning up into her when Ivanova kissed her, that kiss that Sheridan’s call had thwarted earlier. Their lips met, gently at first, as their arms encircled the other, finding familiar placed to spread hands, feel skin. Maia opened beneath Ivanova’s gentle insistence, their tongues touching and sliding as -
‘STELLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!’
Ivanova broke the kiss with a growl of, “For the love of . . .” Maia came over suddenly in a fit of giggles and buried her face in Ivanova’s shoulder as Ivanova lifted her right hand without released Maia. “Ivanova,” she snapped.
“Susan!” Sheridan’s chipper voice issued forth and Ivanova groaned.
“John . . .” she growled warningly.
“I was wondering if you’d join us in the commissary for some supper,” John blathered on, unaware of the severity of the death glare he was currently receiving.
“No, John, we were a little -” Ivanova was cut off as Maia pulled back a bit, shaking her head furiously. Ivanova covered the link with her other hand. “You want to go?” she asked in a low tone.
Maia nodded. “I want to meet your friends. If . . . you don’t mind, that is,” she finished rather meekly.
Ivanova uncovered the link. “We’ll be along soon,” she said, and decisively hung up on his. “Now,” she purred, her arms wrapping tightly around Maia again. “Where were we?”
Maia giggled as Ivanova leaned in again.
***
Both teenagers were considerably bouncy when they - eventually - made it to the commissary, collecting trays of the most Earth-standard fare Ivanova could find before heading over to join the usual suspects; Sheridan, Delenn, Garibaldi, Franklin, G’Kar, and Lochley. Maia hung back a bit, overcome by sudden shyness and more than a little nervous at the sight of G’Kar. The Narn was the first to greet her, rising from his seat with a smile and a small bow.
“Hello, my dear,” he said, ushering her into a seat beside him. “You must be the lovely Maia. Ivanova has told Mr. Garibaldi so much about you.”
Ivanova caught the hidden criticism and winced as she took the other empty seat, between Lochley and Garibaldi.
“Hey, Ivanova,” Garibaldi greeted, then choked on his chicken as he registered what he had just said. “Ivanova!?”
Ivanova lifted an eyebrow. “Nice to see you, too, Michael.”
G’kar chuckled and leaned over to confide in a stage whisper to Maia, “Mr. Garibaldi is going to be in a great deal of trouble very soon.”
Maia giggled, her nervousness about his appearance evaporating in the face of his affable personality. “Why’s that?” she “whispered” back.
G’Kar just winked at her and tapped the side of his nose.
Ivanova was glancing back and forth between them suspiciously. “So, Maia, you already know John,” she said, still keeping her eyes on the now-nervous Garibaldi. “This is his wife, Ambassador Delenn of Minbar. Captain Kate Lochley, commander of the station. Dr. Stephen Franklin. I believe you’ve already met Ambassador G’Kar of the Narn Regime. And this shiftless layabout is Michael Garibaldi. Everyone, Maia Rutledge.”
They had all smiled and nodded at her in turn as Ivanova introduced them, and it was Maia’s turn to wave and smile back. The conversation moved on as they chatted about the station and asked about Fandom, Maia gradually losing her shyness as they immediately absorbed her into the conversation, G’Kar occasionally explaining an in-joke or term she wouldn’t understand. The commissary filled up quickly with the chattering crowds that gathered for the nightly ISN broadcasts from Earth. It went more or less unheeded by the group until G’Kar, hearing the words ‘ commander’ and ‘Babylon 5’, brought their attention to it. It was at this point that Garibaldi tried to slink away, but was caught and held fast by Sheridan and Franklin, who both looked far too amused for their own good.
“And now,” the broadcaster was saying, “On a lighter note, we bring you a bit of a look behind the scenes of Babylon 5. You may remember her as one of the formidable commanders of Sheridan’s White Star fleet in the recent struggle, leading them to victory several times.”
Ivanova didn’t like where this was going.
“Away from the front lines, she’s taking a bit of time off. Here’s that special report.” Cut to a recording of the station announcements from earlier that week. The Babylon 5 group, save Garibaldi, were grinning broadly, having already seen it. Maia was starting to giggle until she realised that her picture had just been broadcast to have the known galaxy. Then she blushed and slid down a little in her seat. Garibaldi had seen a vision of his own painful death. And Garibaldi’s painful death was glaring right at him.
“I. Am going. To. Kill. You.”
Garibaldi struggled to get away. “Hey, Susan, you know me, it was just a harmless little joke, a little bit of fun, I don’t even know how ISN got their hands on it, c’mon . . .” he babbled as Ivanova stalked towards him.
“Permission to shoot this man, Captain?” she said flatly.
“Denied,” Lochley chuckled. “Too much paperwork.”
“Airlock?”
“That might work.”
Maia, until this point, had assumed that this was all a joke. She began to rethink her position at the real terror pouring off Garibaldi. No one here doubted that Ivanova was capable of tossing someone out of an airlock. Maia began to see her in a new light. She was kind of scary at the moment, actually.
Ivanova got right into Garibaldi’s face, her very scariest expression on her face. “Michael, you are a dead man,” she said in a voice colder than an ice cube in an Englishwoman. Without taking her eyes off Garibaldi, she held out her hand. “Come on, Maia, let’s go. I’ve got some work to do.”
Maia slipped off her seat quickly and went to Ivanova’s side, taking the proffered hand a bit timidly. Ivanova’s grip was gentle, though, as she sent one last glare in Garibaldi’s direction and marched off, Maia in tow.
Almost at Ivanova’s quarters, Maia noticed the other girl’s shoulders shaking. “S-Susan?” she asked hesitantly, still a bit scared.
Ivanova halted before her door, turning to her with a broad grin on her face. “Yes?” she chuckled.
Maia blinked, surprised. “You aren’t - angry?”
Ivanova shrugged. “A bit. But it was pretty funny. And I did give him the pictures, so I really brought it on myself.” She pulled Maia closer, draping her arms around her waist. “And they were some very nice pictures. You looked beautiful.”
The compliment made Maia blush as she snuggled into Ivanova. “Then you’re not going to do anything to him?”
“Not a single thing,” Ivanova smirked. “But he doesn’t know that. Michael is the most paranoid person I’ve ever met. He’s going to drive himself insane trying to anticipate me.”
Maia giggled. “You’re evil.”
“I try,” Ivanova replied modestly. “Now, to get back to all that corrupting of the young we evil people like to do and I should have been doing all weekend,” she growled with a villainous waggle of her eyebrows.
Maia giggled again and looped her arms around Ivanova’s neck, drawing her down for a kiss as they tumbled sideways into Ivanova’s quarters, the door sliding shut behind them.
Cue minor chords as a Drazi, purple scarf around its neck, stepped out of his shadowy hiding place, staring coldly at Ivanova’s door.
***
Garibaldi was yawning as he made his way back to his quarters, looking for some shut-eye after his all-nighter of avoiding Ivanova. Speak of the devil, as the woman herself appeared, turning the corner from the dead-end hallways where Garibaldi’s quarters were located, her hands clasped behind her back and even whistling a jaunty tune as she almost bounced.
Garibaldi stopped dead, his eyes widening. Ivanova saw him and nodded in greeting, a smirk crossing her face. “Garibaldi.” She patted him on the shoulder as she passed him. “Sleep well.”
He twisted wildly, trying to see if she had put something there. Sleep? Now? Completely out of the question.
***
“The Brakiri will not stand for this!” the Brakiri ambassador roared, thumping his fist on the table.
“Drazi must have rights, too!” the Drazi to Ivanova’s left snarled back.
“This is blatant disregard for our community,” the Drazi to her right put in.
“Captain, I agree,” Ivanova said. “The Brakiri want to buy a section of the station already reserved for staff and alien use. It negates previously established treaties about the use of the station.”
“Captain -” Lochley said, but was cut off by a Drazi.
“No. Is Leader of Green Drazi now.”
Lochley and Ivanova shared a look before the captain went on. “Ivanova, I can understand your position, and that of the Drazi, but at the same time the religious needs of the Brakiri must also be considered.”
“Captain, we’ve been debating this for hours,” Ivanova sighed. “And my . . . people are getting restless. Can I ask for a recess?”
“Yes!” Lochley looked eternally grateful. “Yes, a recess. Good idea. We’ll meet again in two hours.”
The Brakiri looked grumpy. The Drazi looked pleased. The humans just looked tired. Ivanova stood and nodded before leaving the Council Chambers, the contingent of Drazi right behind her; so close, in fact, that when they finally were out of earshot of the Brakiri delegation, Ivanova turned and had to fling up her hands to ward them off.
“Okay, explain to me again why I have to do this instead of the ambassador,” she demanded.
There was a great muttering as they conferred with each other, before one finally stepped a bit forward and said, “Drazi ambassador recalled to homeworld. Homeworld say green leader is in charge, as purple Drazi lost election. We now purple Drazi, but you still green leader.
Ivanova pinched the bridge of her nose. “Couldn’t purple lea - the purple leader do this?”
The Drazi all looked rather offended by this suggestion. “But - purple lost,” one of them said, as if explining it to a child.
Ivanova sighed. “I am going to kill him,” she muttered to herself.
***
Maia, feeling adventurous and daring and armed with a working knowledge of the BabCom system, ventured forth into the Zocalo. Ivanova had given her a few credits, but she didn’t want to spend them. Just to explore and gape and experience. Everything was new and different, and Maia was in awe of the way that Ivanova moved gracefully through it all , perfectly at home.
She sent half an hour watching two Pak’Mara converse at a coffee shop. She stared at a Centauri dancing girl for almost as long. Narns, Brakiri, Minbari, Centauri, Drazi, all of them, sprinkled through out with humans. She talked to a monk for a while, asking questions about his order and the station.
She was bending to sniff at a bouquet of starlillies when a young Drai approached her timidly, wringing his hands a bit. “Excuse me,” he said in broken English, “You are girl with Commander Ivanova?”
Maia favoured him with a smile, stepping away from the flower display. “Yes, I am. Why?”
The Drazi beamed. “Good, good.” He began ushering her towards an exit and Maia went almost automatically, a little started at his swiftness. “She asks you to come. Please, this way.”
Maia hesitated, glancing back towards the crowded Zocalo. “I don’t know . . .”
“Please,” he said, bobbing his head. “Commander say you come quickly.” Still ushering her away.
“No, I think I should wait for her to come and get me,” Maia said, backing away.
“You come now!”
Maia found her wrist caught in a scaly, vice-like grip. She began to struggle, a scream rising in her throat, but she was too slow. With ninja-like swiftness, she was yanked into a darkened corridor, her arm twisted behind her and a cold hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled against the Drazi as more figures loomed up around them. Then something cold pressed against her arm and there was a hiss, and the world went black.
***
No Ivanova all day. This was a good thing. Garibaldi was actually starting to relax as he collected his tray from the commissary. The lady behind the counter even smiled at him. But before he could find a seat, the door to the kitchen opened and Ivanova stepped out, waving at the workers inside. She turned, saw him, and smirked.
“Hey, Garibaldi,” she said cheerfully as she passed him. “Enjoy your supper.”
Garibaldi stared at his tray in horror and reluctantly tipped it, untouched, into the trash.
***
The situation had been straightened out with a minimum of fuss. Both sides had come away unhappy, so obviously it had been a good compromise. After lurking around the commissary for a bit for the purpose of running into Garibaldi, she stopped into his office. She used her high-level security clearance to access his files, but didn’t actually do anything. Still, it would be enough to have him running diagnostics and virus checks for days.
Humming a bit to herself and making sure several people saw her leave his office, Ivanova set off for her quarters in hopes of sharing some quiet time with Maia. Hopefully time wouldn’t be all they would be sharing. Ivanova let her thoughts drift pleasantly along those lines for a while.
“Maia, I’m back!” she called as she entered the darkened room. She frowned. “Lights,” she commanded, and they obliged. No Maia. She padded over to the bathroom. Nothing.
She quickly squashed the first swell of paranoid worry. Maia could be in the Zocalo. Having fun. Getting out. Shopping. Normal teenage girl stuff. She would be safe enough in the crowds and with station security at all the major exits. Without bothering to change, Ivanova went right back out again, heading for the marketplace.
Ivanova combed the place top to bottom with no joy. She did it a third time, more slowly, asking every shopkeeper and barfly she found. Many people remembered her, but none of them could say where she had gone or seeing anything odd. Well, out of the ordinary for Babylon 5. The most recent sighting she heard had Maia at the flower seller’s. Ivanova stood in front of the booth for a long moment, bending almost absently to sniff at the starlillies. She scanned the area with hard eyes, noticing one of many side access corridors that led away from the Zocalo towards Brown Sector.
Hoping she wouldn’t be right, Ivanova stepped towards it, glancing towards the bustling heart of the marketplace. Totally concealed. She moved a few steps further down the corridor and spotted something on the ground, crouching to retrieve it. Sedative. Empty. Dammit, dammit, dammit. She should never have let Maia come.
The empty hypodermic spray clenched in her fist, she strode towards Blue Sector, her link already at her mouth.
“Allen? Ivanova. I need your help.”
***
Maia had no idea how long she had been out. When she regained consciousness, her arms and legs were bound and she was lying on a grimy mattress in an even grimier room. Two Drazi were sitting there, fondling what she could only assume were weapons. She must have made a sound when she woke up, because they both looked up, their faces set in stony expressions. Maia struggled into a sitting position, her hands still tied behind her back.
“W-who are you?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What’s going on?”
No answer. The Drazi turned away.
“Hey! What’s going on? What do you want?” Her voice was getting louder with every question. “Where’s Susan? Why are you holding me here?”
“Shut up,” one of the Drazi growled, getting up to loom over her.
“I won’t!” Maia declared, pulling courage from somewhere, moving from questions to demands. “Let me go!”
“I said shut up!” the Drazi said again, his hand clenching into a fist.
“Susan Ivanova -” Maia let out a sharp cry as the Drazi cuffed her across the face, sending her into the wall, her head cracking sharply against the metal. Things went blurry again, and eventually faded into black.
***
Groggily, Maia swam into consciousness again. There were more Drazi in the room, talking excitedly amongst themselves. Maia caught the words ‘she’s coming’ and tried to rouse herself, knowing that it was Susan, Susan was coming for her. But she couldn’t hold on any longer and slipped back into unconsciousness.
***
A loud noise dragged her out of her fitful doze, a banging and clanging. There were rough voices shouting and an unfamiliar whiz and buzz and more crashes. A Drazi came flying out of nowhere and landed on her legs, a deadweight, and she gave a weak cry, startled out of her.
“Maia!”
Was that someone shouting her name? Her hearing had gone fishbowl-y, her vision was being invaded by black spots. Through the spots she saw a figure, a punching, swinging, kicking figure that left a trail of unconscious Drazi in her wake.
“Maia!”
Someone was calling her name. How odd. She had been kidnapped, after all. The Drazi across her legs was gone. Someone had rolled him off. Probably the same someone who was calling her name, but Maia’s brain wasn’t quite up to making that connection.
“Great Maker, Maia, what have they done to you?”
It was Susan! Susan was there, kneeling beside her, stroking her hair, talking softly to her, telling her that it was alright, that she was found now.
“Susan . . .”
“Maia,” Ivanova replied, cupping her face gently. “It’s going to be just fine now.”
***
There was a dry, cool hand on her forehead and shouting in the background.
“Two weeks, John! You couldn’t have waited two frakking weeks -”
“I didn’t bring her into this! You had to -”
“She’s awake,” the owner of the hand said, and Maia’s eyes cracked open as the shouting immediately stopped.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Franklin asked, smiling down at her as he removed his hand.
“Woozy,” she croaked, her throat dry and her mouth sticky.
Ivanova appeared beside Franklin, her hand covering Maia’s and their fingers twining automatically. A black eye was spreading down over her cheekbone, and a neat row of bandages covered a handful of stitches on her forehead. Neither seemed to concern her as she smiled down at Maia, a smile the other girl return rather vaguely.
“How is she?” John asked Franklin, the men talking over them.
“Hey, Maia,” Ivanova murmured.
“Minor concussion, a few bumps and bruises, no major damage.” Franklin replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Hey, Susan,” Maia replied, her throat less dry as she licked her lips. “You came and rescued me,” she stated in that fuzzy sort of certainty of the drunk and concussed.
“Well that’s a relief,” John sighed.
Ivanova shrugged. “Zack and his men did most of the work.”
“Don’t listen to her, Miss Maia,” Zack put in from where he was leaning against the wall and pretending that he wasn’t as concerned as he was. “The com - captain kicked some serious ass. I was just doin’ clean-up.”
“Susan can be scary,” Maia informed the room in general.
Franklin chuckled. “Well at least we know her memory wasn’t affected,” he said dryly. “You should be fine in a few hours. Just sleep it off. Now, Susan -”
“Make sure she wakes up every two hours, I know,” Ivanova replied, not taking her eyes off Maia.
“I was going to say that I wanted to keep her here for observation -” Ivanova glared at him and he hurried on. “But I realised that there was no point and you should be perfectly capable of taking care of her yourself.
“Good answer,” Sheridan murmured.
Franklin loftily ignored him, instead bending over Maia. “Maia, did you want to go with Ivanova or stay here in medlab for the night?”
“Susan.” Maia said immediately. Ivanova looked smug.
Franklin sighed. “Well, alright. But before you do, I just want to check your responses.” He got her to touch her nose, then his nose, then follow his finger. Finally he held up some fingers and when she got it right, he relented. “Alright. Can you stand?”
Reluctantly Maia released Ivanova’s hand as she swung her legs off the high, narrow bed, but Ivanova was right there as soon as she was on her feet, one arm supporting her around the waist and the other hand holding Maia’s tightly. Much of the fuzziness had gone from Maia’s head now and she managed to put one foot in front of the other with a minimum of wobbles. The fact that Ivanova was supporting most of her weight didn’t hurt, either.
Franklin tried to give Ivanova a few last-minute instructions and the flat look he got in return clearly informed him that Ivanova had suffered enough concussions of her own that he would kindly be keeping out of it.
Maia didn’t take much notice of the walk back, or the account Zack was giving her of the daring rescue as he strolled beside them, his relaxed pose belying the fact that he was serving as bodyguard. Ivanova’s arms were warm around her and that was all that really mattered.
Maia sat on the edge of the bed, concentrating on taking her shoes off, as Ivanova and Zack held a low conversation about guards and Drazi by the door. Ivanova said goodnight and the door whooshed shut as she turned and walked over to the bed.
Maia smiled up at her, somewhat goofily. Blame it on the concussion. “Hey, pretty lady.”
Ivanova laughed. “Come on, O Concussed One, let’s get you ready for bed.”
“You gonna take my clothes off?” Maia asked flirtatiously. Well, she was going for flirtatious and ended up coming off drunk.
Ivanova laughed again. “Yes I am,” she replied, neatly divesting Maia of her shirt before turning away to rummage in her bag for her nightshirt. “Pants off next,” she ordered.
“You gonna be naked, too?” Maia asked, doing as she was told.
“Not right now,” Ivanova replied, keeping her eyes from straying lower than her face and all the bad thoughts that would come with it. She pulled the nightshirt over Maia’s head, helping her get it on. Once Maia was tucked in, Ivanova smoothed the hair off her forehead and kissed her softly. “Go to sleep. You’ll be alright in the morning.”
Maia caught her hand as she moved away. “Please . . .” She hadn’t formed the thought completely and didn’t know exactly what she was asking for.
Ivanova granted it anyways, with a small nod. She stretched out beside Maia, on top of the covers with her arm draped across Maia’s stomach. With a soft smile, Maia turned her head to look at Ivanova, her eyes fluttering closed.
It seemed only a few minutes later when a gentle voice was calling, “Maia . . . Maia, wake up,” and her shoulder was being gently shaken. She blinked awake, her brow furrowing in sleepy confusion. Ivanova was smiling down at her.
“Susan?
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Three . . . Wha -”
“What’s your name?”
“Maia Rutledge. Su -”
“Where did we first kiss?”
“In my room, wh -”
Ivanova cut her off with a kiss. “Go back to sleep,” she instructed her with a smirk.
The next time Maia woke up, she was alone in the bed and there was more shouting. Ivanova was shouting, specifically. At a group of Drazi who clustered in the doorway. She was waving a scrap of green cloth at them as she was doing her shouting.
“Is that really what this was about? Some stupid piece of cloth and a funny-shaped bit of metal? I didn’t even want it in the first place!”
Maia struggled into a sitting position. “Susan? What’s going on?”
Ivanova spun. “Maia! Nothing, just go back to sleep.” She turned back to the Drazi and thrust the green cloth at one. “Here,” she snarled. “Take it back and you make sure that you never have a reason to cross my path ever again. Got it?”
The Drazi were too cowered to protest as Ivanova almost forcibly ejected them from the room, the door shutting in their collective faces. She sighed as she padded over to the bed, leaning over to kiss Maia softly. “How are you feeling?”
“A bit tired,” Maia confessed. “But almost human.”
“That’s good,” Ivanova murmured. “Go back to sleep again.”
Maia settled back down, but looked up at Ivanova pleadingly. “You’re going to stay?” All the shouting had made her a bit nervous and she was still feeling the effects of the concussion.
“Of course,” Ivanova replied, softening.
“I was so scared,” Maia said, barely above a whisper.
“I know you were,” Ivanova sighed, lying down beside her. “But I’m here now and you’re okay.”
Maia nodded, her eyes fluttered closed again and she was asleep.
She woke on her own again and Ivanova was asleep beside her. Her black eye was hidden in the pillow and her face was smooth and serene in sleep. The bags under her eyes gave Maia an idea as to how long she had been missing and unconscious.
Maia lay quietly for a long moment, watching her sleep. Finally, unable to resist any longer, she leaned over and kissed Ivanova’s wonderfully kissable lips. Ivanova stirred at the gentle kiss, her eyes fluttering open.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Maia said softly.
“Hey yourself,” Ivanova replied sleepily, raising her head a bit.
Maia winced at the rings of green and purple around Ivanova’s eye, smudging into yellow on her cheek. “Ow,” she said sympathetically.
Ivanova shrugged a bit. “It isn’t bad. How are you doing?”
“Better than you,” Maia murmured, lifting her hand to brush gentle fingers over the line of stitches. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Ivanova replied. “It was the stupid Drazi.” She lifted her hand and stroked Maia’s cheek. “I was so worried.”
“You were amazing,” Maia said, her eyes sparkling.
Ivanova chuckled. “And you were concussed.”
“I remember a lot of punching and asskicking,” Maia pointed out. Her smile became more suggestive. “And I’m not concussed now.”
“No, no you aren’t,” Ivanova murmured, already leaning in as her arm snaked around Maia, pulling her close.
***
“I am so sorry about everything,” Sheridan said apologetically, shaking Maia’s hand when the girls had finally emerged two days later.
“Yes, usually our kidnappings are much more genial affairs,” G’Kar added. He had appeared to show them off, having become rather fond of Maia. He and Sheridan formed the farewell party, work or, in the case of Garibaldi, paranoia keeping the rest away.
“That’s good to know,” Maia said, a bit wide-eyed and unsure whether or not to take him seriously.
“Come back any time, my dear,” G’Kar said warmly.
“I will see you soon,” Ivanova said firmly. “Please, no more crises until then?”
“We’ll try,” Sheridan chuckled as they climbed in behind an already-complaining Zathras. “Have a good flight.”
The trip home was quiet and the girls snuggled in the back, watching the fluctuations in hyperspace and then, finally, the stars and familiar planets and moons. Zathras set them down in the park and Ivanova took a deep breath as the hatch hissed open.
“Oh, Fandom, sweet Fandom,” she murmured. “We’re home.”
still fresh in her head. She didn't want to think of Susan leaving in two weeks. Leaving to go off into Space and most likely never see Maia again. Maia closed her eyes, Susan's smiling face hoovering over her. She smiled back and drifted off to sleep.
((ooc: Ivanova and Maia's weekend on Babylon 5 in fanfiction form))
“Hey,” she greeted simply
“Hey,” Maia replied a bit breathlessly, looking with wide eyes at the ship. “So this is it?”
“Yep,” Ivanova replied. “It’s a bit small for three, but we’ll make due.” She pounded a fist on the hull. “Oi, Zathras! She’s here, let’s go!”
There was a disgruntled muttering from the other side of the side as a hatch hissed open. “. . . not know why he have to take two, the One only send Zathras for one, Zathras not taxi service fro whole galaxy . . .”
He came around the side of the ship in his usual bent shuffle and Maia jumped, stifling a shocked shriek into a little ‘eep!’. Zathras jumped when she did, scuttling back a few steps. Maia shrunk back against Ivanova with wide eyes and Ivanova began to get second thoughts about this whole thing. She stepped between them. “Maia, Zathras. Zathras, Maia. He’s harmless.”
“Zathras very pleased to be meeting you,” Zathras put in with one of his bobbing bows.
“Y-you too, Zathras,” Maia offered shakily.
Zathras broke into a toothy grin. “Come along, come along, we are not having all night,” he said, swiftly taking her bag and ushering them into the ship. “Well, we are having all night because of nature of time, but you knowing what Zathras is meaning.”
Ivanova stepped back to allow Maia to step in first, and as soon as they were settled, cramped together in the small space, she leaned over and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?” She took Maia’s hand and squeezed it slightly. “You’re going to see some weirder things than Zathras. And Babylon 5 isn’t the safest place in the galaxy.”
Maia twined their fingers more tightly and nodded. “I want to see the place you call home,” she said softly. “I want to see the place that can produce someone as wonderful as you.” She offered Ivanova a small smile despite her nervousness.
Zathras grunted as he settled into the pilot’s seat. “Zathras still not be thinking bringing home random hook-ups is a good idea. But who is Zathras to judge?”
***
Sheridan was pacing outside the docking slip, entering as soon as the door indicated that the area was pressurized. He strode over to the shop, almost ignoring Zathras except for a nod of thanks. “Susan,” he said, reaching for her as the dark-haired girl exited. “Thank God you’re -” He stopped abruptly when Ivanova gave him a flat look and turned to help a younger blonde girl step out. Sheridan looked classically confused Sheridan at this point. “Who’s -”
“This is my friend, Maia,” Ivanova said, draping an arm around her shoulders. “We had plans this weekend. I brought her along.” She turned to Maia. “John Sheridan, President of the Interstellar Alliance,” she introduced him.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. President,” Maia squeaked automatically, extending a hand rather timidly.
“You as well,” Sheridan replied, shaking her hand almost absently. “Susan, are you -”
“She asked to come, John,” Ivanova said firmly. “She’s staying.”
Maia witnessed a silent battle of wills, the president still holding her hand, and watched Ivanova stare down the most important man in the galaxy. She always managed to outmacho him. Sheridan released Maia’s hand and stepped away. “Alright, alright. I’ll have another set of quarters for -”
“That won’t be necessary,” Ivanova said, just as firmly, her arm tightening around Maia a bit. Maia felt a warm feeling bubble through her at Ivanova’s vehemence in front of this man.
Sheridan looked confused for a moment before a few loose braincells fired and he nodded. “Oh. Right. Sure.” He stood to one side to gesture them out the door and Ivanova took the lead, her arm slipping from Maia’s shoulders as she seemed to grow into the role that she had resumed the moment they set foot on the station. Maia followed, her eyes widening as she saw Captain Ivanova of EarthForce for the first time, and Sheridan brought up the rear, feeling a little lost still.
“That quite alright, Zathras be just fine on his own, he is thanking you for asking,” Zathras said to an empty hanger.
***
Zack Allen was summoned and met them outside the Zocalo, a grin spreading over his face at the sight of Ivanova. “Hey, Com - Captain. I didn’t know you were back.”
“I’m not,” Ivanova replied dryly. “On loan only. Zack, this is Maia Rutledge. Maia, Zack Allen, chief of security.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Rutledge,” Zack said with a smile, shaking her hand.
“You, too, Mr. Allen,” Maia replied, returning the smile. He seemed nice enough. And, apparently, fully human.
Sheridan clapped a hand on Zack’s shoulder. “Zack! I was thinking you could show Miss Rutledge around while the Captain and I get to work.”
“Oh, you’re here for that whole Drazi thing,” Zack said, clueing in with a nod. He smirked. “Good luck.”
“Show her around and then make sure she gets to Ivanova’s quarters in one piece,” Sheridan ordered, beginning to steer Ivanova away.
“Susan?” Maia blurted out, resisting the urge to cling to the other girl, looking rather intimidated and clearly not wanting to be separated.
Ivanova stepped up to her and stroked a finger down her cheek with a soft look in her eyes. “It’ll be fine,” she murmured. “Zack’s a good guy. He’ll take care of you.”
Maia nodded. “Alright,” she said softly. “I know you have to work.” She still didn’t look too happy about it.
Ivanova smiled. “I’ll see you later,” she promised, and then kissed her softly before turning and striding in the direction Sheridan had indicated, the president tagging along.
Zack shook his head mournfully. “Damn. All the best ones really are dead, gay, or taken.”
“I thought that was supposed to be men, Mr. Allen,” Maia said with a small smirk.
Zack shrugged as he sauntered down the hallway at Maia’s side. “Works both ways. Call me Zack, by the way. Now, through here we’ve got the Zocalo . . .”
***
The door sliding open startled an already jumpy Maia, who looked up from the magazine that she was flipping through on the bed. Ivanova stormed in, wrenching a green scarf off her neck.
“I am going to kill him!” she roared, flinging it violently in the general direction of a chair as she threw up her hands and paced in short, jerky steps.
“What happened?” Maia asked, moving off the bed but hesitating as she reached out, shrinking back a bit under Ivanova’s evident ire.
“That idiot called me back here over some sort of ridiculous diplomatic snafu,” Ivanova snarled. “I am going to kill him.” She halted her angry pacing to jab a finger in Maia’s direction. “All I wanted was some quiet time with you and then John had to be a politically correct asshole.”
“. . . you wanted some quiet time with me?” Maia squeaked.
Ivanova halted her tirade and softened. “Of course I did, Maia.” She moved over to her and cupped her cheek, stroking it softly with her thumb. “I do. That’s why I’m so pissed off at John at the moment.” A growl entered her last words, but she shook it off. “Don’t worry about it,” she murmured, cutting off the other girl’s look of concern. “It’s politics. I hate politics.” Her lips curved into a smirk as her hand slid around to the back of Maia’s neck. “You, on the other hand, I most definitely do not hate.”
Maia was already leaning up into her when Ivanova kissed her, that kiss that Sheridan’s call had thwarted earlier. Their lips met, gently at first, as their arms encircled the other, finding familiar placed to spread hands, feel skin. Maia opened beneath Ivanova’s gentle insistence, their tongues touching and sliding as -
‘STELLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!’
Ivanova broke the kiss with a growl of, “For the love of . . .” Maia came over suddenly in a fit of giggles and buried her face in Ivanova’s shoulder as Ivanova lifted her right hand without released Maia. “Ivanova,” she snapped.
“Susan!” Sheridan’s chipper voice issued forth and Ivanova groaned.
“John . . .” she growled warningly.
“I was wondering if you’d join us in the commissary for some supper,” John blathered on, unaware of the severity of the death glare he was currently receiving.
“No, John, we were a little -” Ivanova was cut off as Maia pulled back a bit, shaking her head furiously. Ivanova covered the link with her other hand. “You want to go?” she asked in a low tone.
Maia nodded. “I want to meet your friends. If . . . you don’t mind, that is,” she finished rather meekly.
Ivanova uncovered the link. “We’ll be along soon,” she said, and decisively hung up on his. “Now,” she purred, her arms wrapping tightly around Maia again. “Where were we?”
Maia giggled as Ivanova leaned in again.
***
Both teenagers were considerably bouncy when they - eventually - made it to the commissary, collecting trays of the most Earth-standard fare Ivanova could find before heading over to join the usual suspects; Sheridan, Delenn, Garibaldi, Franklin, G’Kar, and Lochley. Maia hung back a bit, overcome by sudden shyness and more than a little nervous at the sight of G’Kar. The Narn was the first to greet her, rising from his seat with a smile and a small bow.
“Hello, my dear,” he said, ushering her into a seat beside him. “You must be the lovely Maia. Ivanova has told Mr. Garibaldi so much about you.”
Ivanova caught the hidden criticism and winced as she took the other empty seat, between Lochley and Garibaldi.
“Hey, Ivanova,” Garibaldi greeted, then choked on his chicken as he registered what he had just said. “Ivanova!?”
Ivanova lifted an eyebrow. “Nice to see you, too, Michael.”
G’kar chuckled and leaned over to confide in a stage whisper to Maia, “Mr. Garibaldi is going to be in a great deal of trouble very soon.”
Maia giggled, her nervousness about his appearance evaporating in the face of his affable personality. “Why’s that?” she “whispered” back.
G’Kar just winked at her and tapped the side of his nose.
Ivanova was glancing back and forth between them suspiciously. “So, Maia, you already know John,” she said, still keeping her eyes on the now-nervous Garibaldi. “This is his wife, Ambassador Delenn of Minbar. Captain Kate Lochley, commander of the station. Dr. Stephen Franklin. I believe you’ve already met Ambassador G’Kar of the Narn Regime. And this shiftless layabout is Michael Garibaldi. Everyone, Maia Rutledge.”
They had all smiled and nodded at her in turn as Ivanova introduced them, and it was Maia’s turn to wave and smile back. The conversation moved on as they chatted about the station and asked about Fandom, Maia gradually losing her shyness as they immediately absorbed her into the conversation, G’Kar occasionally explaining an in-joke or term she wouldn’t understand. The commissary filled up quickly with the chattering crowds that gathered for the nightly ISN broadcasts from Earth. It went more or less unheeded by the group until G’Kar, hearing the words ‘ commander’ and ‘Babylon 5’, brought their attention to it. It was at this point that Garibaldi tried to slink away, but was caught and held fast by Sheridan and Franklin, who both looked far too amused for their own good.
“And now,” the broadcaster was saying, “On a lighter note, we bring you a bit of a look behind the scenes of Babylon 5. You may remember her as one of the formidable commanders of Sheridan’s White Star fleet in the recent struggle, leading them to victory several times.”
Ivanova didn’t like where this was going.
“Away from the front lines, she’s taking a bit of time off. Here’s that special report.” Cut to a recording of the station announcements from earlier that week. The Babylon 5 group, save Garibaldi, were grinning broadly, having already seen it. Maia was starting to giggle until she realised that her picture had just been broadcast to have the known galaxy. Then she blushed and slid down a little in her seat. Garibaldi had seen a vision of his own painful death. And Garibaldi’s painful death was glaring right at him.
“I. Am going. To. Kill. You.”
Garibaldi struggled to get away. “Hey, Susan, you know me, it was just a harmless little joke, a little bit of fun, I don’t even know how ISN got their hands on it, c’mon . . .” he babbled as Ivanova stalked towards him.
“Permission to shoot this man, Captain?” she said flatly.
“Denied,” Lochley chuckled. “Too much paperwork.”
“Airlock?”
“That might work.”
Maia, until this point, had assumed that this was all a joke. She began to rethink her position at the real terror pouring off Garibaldi. No one here doubted that Ivanova was capable of tossing someone out of an airlock. Maia began to see her in a new light. She was kind of scary at the moment, actually.
Ivanova got right into Garibaldi’s face, her very scariest expression on her face. “Michael, you are a dead man,” she said in a voice colder than an ice cube in an Englishwoman. Without taking her eyes off Garibaldi, she held out her hand. “Come on, Maia, let’s go. I’ve got some work to do.”
Maia slipped off her seat quickly and went to Ivanova’s side, taking the proffered hand a bit timidly. Ivanova’s grip was gentle, though, as she sent one last glare in Garibaldi’s direction and marched off, Maia in tow.
Almost at Ivanova’s quarters, Maia noticed the other girl’s shoulders shaking. “S-Susan?” she asked hesitantly, still a bit scared.
Ivanova halted before her door, turning to her with a broad grin on her face. “Yes?” she chuckled.
Maia blinked, surprised. “You aren’t - angry?”
Ivanova shrugged. “A bit. But it was pretty funny. And I did give him the pictures, so I really brought it on myself.” She pulled Maia closer, draping her arms around her waist. “And they were some very nice pictures. You looked beautiful.”
The compliment made Maia blush as she snuggled into Ivanova. “Then you’re not going to do anything to him?”
“Not a single thing,” Ivanova smirked. “But he doesn’t know that. Michael is the most paranoid person I’ve ever met. He’s going to drive himself insane trying to anticipate me.”
Maia giggled. “You’re evil.”
“I try,” Ivanova replied modestly. “Now, to get back to all that corrupting of the young we evil people like to do and I should have been doing all weekend,” she growled with a villainous waggle of her eyebrows.
Maia giggled again and looped her arms around Ivanova’s neck, drawing her down for a kiss as they tumbled sideways into Ivanova’s quarters, the door sliding shut behind them.
Cue minor chords as a Drazi, purple scarf around its neck, stepped out of his shadowy hiding place, staring coldly at Ivanova’s door.
***
Garibaldi was yawning as he made his way back to his quarters, looking for some shut-eye after his all-nighter of avoiding Ivanova. Speak of the devil, as the woman herself appeared, turning the corner from the dead-end hallways where Garibaldi’s quarters were located, her hands clasped behind her back and even whistling a jaunty tune as she almost bounced.
Garibaldi stopped dead, his eyes widening. Ivanova saw him and nodded in greeting, a smirk crossing her face. “Garibaldi.” She patted him on the shoulder as she passed him. “Sleep well.”
He twisted wildly, trying to see if she had put something there. Sleep? Now? Completely out of the question.
***
“The Brakiri will not stand for this!” the Brakiri ambassador roared, thumping his fist on the table.
“Drazi must have rights, too!” the Drazi to Ivanova’s left snarled back.
“This is blatant disregard for our community,” the Drazi to her right put in.
“Captain, I agree,” Ivanova said. “The Brakiri want to buy a section of the station already reserved for staff and alien use. It negates previously established treaties about the use of the station.”
“Captain -” Lochley said, but was cut off by a Drazi.
“No. Is Leader of Green Drazi now.”
Lochley and Ivanova shared a look before the captain went on. “Ivanova, I can understand your position, and that of the Drazi, but at the same time the religious needs of the Brakiri must also be considered.”
“Captain, we’ve been debating this for hours,” Ivanova sighed. “And my . . . people are getting restless. Can I ask for a recess?”
“Yes!” Lochley looked eternally grateful. “Yes, a recess. Good idea. We’ll meet again in two hours.”
The Brakiri looked grumpy. The Drazi looked pleased. The humans just looked tired. Ivanova stood and nodded before leaving the Council Chambers, the contingent of Drazi right behind her; so close, in fact, that when they finally were out of earshot of the Brakiri delegation, Ivanova turned and had to fling up her hands to ward them off.
“Okay, explain to me again why I have to do this instead of the ambassador,” she demanded.
There was a great muttering as they conferred with each other, before one finally stepped a bit forward and said, “Drazi ambassador recalled to homeworld. Homeworld say green leader is in charge, as purple Drazi lost election. We now purple Drazi, but you still green leader.
Ivanova pinched the bridge of her nose. “Couldn’t purple lea - the purple leader do this?”
The Drazi all looked rather offended by this suggestion. “But - purple lost,” one of them said, as if explining it to a child.
Ivanova sighed. “I am going to kill him,” she muttered to herself.
***
Maia, feeling adventurous and daring and armed with a working knowledge of the BabCom system, ventured forth into the Zocalo. Ivanova had given her a few credits, but she didn’t want to spend them. Just to explore and gape and experience. Everything was new and different, and Maia was in awe of the way that Ivanova moved gracefully through it all , perfectly at home.
She sent half an hour watching two Pak’Mara converse at a coffee shop. She stared at a Centauri dancing girl for almost as long. Narns, Brakiri, Minbari, Centauri, Drazi, all of them, sprinkled through out with humans. She talked to a monk for a while, asking questions about his order and the station.
She was bending to sniff at a bouquet of starlillies when a young Drai approached her timidly, wringing his hands a bit. “Excuse me,” he said in broken English, “You are girl with Commander Ivanova?”
Maia favoured him with a smile, stepping away from the flower display. “Yes, I am. Why?”
The Drazi beamed. “Good, good.” He began ushering her towards an exit and Maia went almost automatically, a little started at his swiftness. “She asks you to come. Please, this way.”
Maia hesitated, glancing back towards the crowded Zocalo. “I don’t know . . .”
“Please,” he said, bobbing his head. “Commander say you come quickly.” Still ushering her away.
“No, I think I should wait for her to come and get me,” Maia said, backing away.
“You come now!”
Maia found her wrist caught in a scaly, vice-like grip. She began to struggle, a scream rising in her throat, but she was too slow. With ninja-like swiftness, she was yanked into a darkened corridor, her arm twisted behind her and a cold hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled against the Drazi as more figures loomed up around them. Then something cold pressed against her arm and there was a hiss, and the world went black.
***
No Ivanova all day. This was a good thing. Garibaldi was actually starting to relax as he collected his tray from the commissary. The lady behind the counter even smiled at him. But before he could find a seat, the door to the kitchen opened and Ivanova stepped out, waving at the workers inside. She turned, saw him, and smirked.
“Hey, Garibaldi,” she said cheerfully as she passed him. “Enjoy your supper.”
Garibaldi stared at his tray in horror and reluctantly tipped it, untouched, into the trash.
***
The situation had been straightened out with a minimum of fuss. Both sides had come away unhappy, so obviously it had been a good compromise. After lurking around the commissary for a bit for the purpose of running into Garibaldi, she stopped into his office. She used her high-level security clearance to access his files, but didn’t actually do anything. Still, it would be enough to have him running diagnostics and virus checks for days.
Humming a bit to herself and making sure several people saw her leave his office, Ivanova set off for her quarters in hopes of sharing some quiet time with Maia. Hopefully time wouldn’t be all they would be sharing. Ivanova let her thoughts drift pleasantly along those lines for a while.
“Maia, I’m back!” she called as she entered the darkened room. She frowned. “Lights,” she commanded, and they obliged. No Maia. She padded over to the bathroom. Nothing.
She quickly squashed the first swell of paranoid worry. Maia could be in the Zocalo. Having fun. Getting out. Shopping. Normal teenage girl stuff. She would be safe enough in the crowds and with station security at all the major exits. Without bothering to change, Ivanova went right back out again, heading for the marketplace.
Ivanova combed the place top to bottom with no joy. She did it a third time, more slowly, asking every shopkeeper and barfly she found. Many people remembered her, but none of them could say where she had gone or seeing anything odd. Well, out of the ordinary for Babylon 5. The most recent sighting she heard had Maia at the flower seller’s. Ivanova stood in front of the booth for a long moment, bending almost absently to sniff at the starlillies. She scanned the area with hard eyes, noticing one of many side access corridors that led away from the Zocalo towards Brown Sector.
Hoping she wouldn’t be right, Ivanova stepped towards it, glancing towards the bustling heart of the marketplace. Totally concealed. She moved a few steps further down the corridor and spotted something on the ground, crouching to retrieve it. Sedative. Empty. Dammit, dammit, dammit. She should never have let Maia come.
The empty hypodermic spray clenched in her fist, she strode towards Blue Sector, her link already at her mouth.
“Allen? Ivanova. I need your help.”
***
Maia had no idea how long she had been out. When she regained consciousness, her arms and legs were bound and she was lying on a grimy mattress in an even grimier room. Two Drazi were sitting there, fondling what she could only assume were weapons. She must have made a sound when she woke up, because they both looked up, their faces set in stony expressions. Maia struggled into a sitting position, her hands still tied behind her back.
“W-who are you?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What’s going on?”
No answer. The Drazi turned away.
“Hey! What’s going on? What do you want?” Her voice was getting louder with every question. “Where’s Susan? Why are you holding me here?”
“Shut up,” one of the Drazi growled, getting up to loom over her.
“I won’t!” Maia declared, pulling courage from somewhere, moving from questions to demands. “Let me go!”
“I said shut up!” the Drazi said again, his hand clenching into a fist.
“Susan Ivanova -” Maia let out a sharp cry as the Drazi cuffed her across the face, sending her into the wall, her head cracking sharply against the metal. Things went blurry again, and eventually faded into black.
***
Groggily, Maia swam into consciousness again. There were more Drazi in the room, talking excitedly amongst themselves. Maia caught the words ‘she’s coming’ and tried to rouse herself, knowing that it was Susan, Susan was coming for her. But she couldn’t hold on any longer and slipped back into unconsciousness.
***
A loud noise dragged her out of her fitful doze, a banging and clanging. There were rough voices shouting and an unfamiliar whiz and buzz and more crashes. A Drazi came flying out of nowhere and landed on her legs, a deadweight, and she gave a weak cry, startled out of her.
“Maia!”
Was that someone shouting her name? Her hearing had gone fishbowl-y, her vision was being invaded by black spots. Through the spots she saw a figure, a punching, swinging, kicking figure that left a trail of unconscious Drazi in her wake.
“Maia!”
Someone was calling her name. How odd. She had been kidnapped, after all. The Drazi across her legs was gone. Someone had rolled him off. Probably the same someone who was calling her name, but Maia’s brain wasn’t quite up to making that connection.
“Great Maker, Maia, what have they done to you?”
It was Susan! Susan was there, kneeling beside her, stroking her hair, talking softly to her, telling her that it was alright, that she was found now.
“Susan . . .”
“Maia,” Ivanova replied, cupping her face gently. “It’s going to be just fine now.”
***
There was a dry, cool hand on her forehead and shouting in the background.
“Two weeks, John! You couldn’t have waited two frakking weeks -”
“I didn’t bring her into this! You had to -”
“She’s awake,” the owner of the hand said, and Maia’s eyes cracked open as the shouting immediately stopped.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Franklin asked, smiling down at her as he removed his hand.
“Woozy,” she croaked, her throat dry and her mouth sticky.
Ivanova appeared beside Franklin, her hand covering Maia’s and their fingers twining automatically. A black eye was spreading down over her cheekbone, and a neat row of bandages covered a handful of stitches on her forehead. Neither seemed to concern her as she smiled down at Maia, a smile the other girl return rather vaguely.
“How is she?” John asked Franklin, the men talking over them.
“Hey, Maia,” Ivanova murmured.
“Minor concussion, a few bumps and bruises, no major damage.” Franklin replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Hey, Susan,” Maia replied, her throat less dry as she licked her lips. “You came and rescued me,” she stated in that fuzzy sort of certainty of the drunk and concussed.
“Well that’s a relief,” John sighed.
Ivanova shrugged. “Zack and his men did most of the work.”
“Don’t listen to her, Miss Maia,” Zack put in from where he was leaning against the wall and pretending that he wasn’t as concerned as he was. “The com - captain kicked some serious ass. I was just doin’ clean-up.”
“Susan can be scary,” Maia informed the room in general.
Franklin chuckled. “Well at least we know her memory wasn’t affected,” he said dryly. “You should be fine in a few hours. Just sleep it off. Now, Susan -”
“Make sure she wakes up every two hours, I know,” Ivanova replied, not taking her eyes off Maia.
“I was going to say that I wanted to keep her here for observation -” Ivanova glared at him and he hurried on. “But I realised that there was no point and you should be perfectly capable of taking care of her yourself.
“Good answer,” Sheridan murmured.
Franklin loftily ignored him, instead bending over Maia. “Maia, did you want to go with Ivanova or stay here in medlab for the night?”
“Susan.” Maia said immediately. Ivanova looked smug.
Franklin sighed. “Well, alright. But before you do, I just want to check your responses.” He got her to touch her nose, then his nose, then follow his finger. Finally he held up some fingers and when she got it right, he relented. “Alright. Can you stand?”
Reluctantly Maia released Ivanova’s hand as she swung her legs off the high, narrow bed, but Ivanova was right there as soon as she was on her feet, one arm supporting her around the waist and the other hand holding Maia’s tightly. Much of the fuzziness had gone from Maia’s head now and she managed to put one foot in front of the other with a minimum of wobbles. The fact that Ivanova was supporting most of her weight didn’t hurt, either.
Franklin tried to give Ivanova a few last-minute instructions and the flat look he got in return clearly informed him that Ivanova had suffered enough concussions of her own that he would kindly be keeping out of it.
Maia didn’t take much notice of the walk back, or the account Zack was giving her of the daring rescue as he strolled beside them, his relaxed pose belying the fact that he was serving as bodyguard. Ivanova’s arms were warm around her and that was all that really mattered.
Maia sat on the edge of the bed, concentrating on taking her shoes off, as Ivanova and Zack held a low conversation about guards and Drazi by the door. Ivanova said goodnight and the door whooshed shut as she turned and walked over to the bed.
Maia smiled up at her, somewhat goofily. Blame it on the concussion. “Hey, pretty lady.”
Ivanova laughed. “Come on, O Concussed One, let’s get you ready for bed.”
“You gonna take my clothes off?” Maia asked flirtatiously. Well, she was going for flirtatious and ended up coming off drunk.
Ivanova laughed again. “Yes I am,” she replied, neatly divesting Maia of her shirt before turning away to rummage in her bag for her nightshirt. “Pants off next,” she ordered.
“You gonna be naked, too?” Maia asked, doing as she was told.
“Not right now,” Ivanova replied, keeping her eyes from straying lower than her face and all the bad thoughts that would come with it. She pulled the nightshirt over Maia’s head, helping her get it on. Once Maia was tucked in, Ivanova smoothed the hair off her forehead and kissed her softly. “Go to sleep. You’ll be alright in the morning.”
Maia caught her hand as she moved away. “Please . . .” She hadn’t formed the thought completely and didn’t know exactly what she was asking for.
Ivanova granted it anyways, with a small nod. She stretched out beside Maia, on top of the covers with her arm draped across Maia’s stomach. With a soft smile, Maia turned her head to look at Ivanova, her eyes fluttering closed.
It seemed only a few minutes later when a gentle voice was calling, “Maia . . . Maia, wake up,” and her shoulder was being gently shaken. She blinked awake, her brow furrowing in sleepy confusion. Ivanova was smiling down at her.
“Susan?
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Three . . . Wha -”
“What’s your name?”
“Maia Rutledge. Su -”
“Where did we first kiss?”
“In my room, wh -”
Ivanova cut her off with a kiss. “Go back to sleep,” she instructed her with a smirk.
The next time Maia woke up, she was alone in the bed and there was more shouting. Ivanova was shouting, specifically. At a group of Drazi who clustered in the doorway. She was waving a scrap of green cloth at them as she was doing her shouting.
“Is that really what this was about? Some stupid piece of cloth and a funny-shaped bit of metal? I didn’t even want it in the first place!”
Maia struggled into a sitting position. “Susan? What’s going on?”
Ivanova spun. “Maia! Nothing, just go back to sleep.” She turned back to the Drazi and thrust the green cloth at one. “Here,” she snarled. “Take it back and you make sure that you never have a reason to cross my path ever again. Got it?”
The Drazi were too cowered to protest as Ivanova almost forcibly ejected them from the room, the door shutting in their collective faces. She sighed as she padded over to the bed, leaning over to kiss Maia softly. “How are you feeling?”
“A bit tired,” Maia confessed. “But almost human.”
“That’s good,” Ivanova murmured. “Go back to sleep again.”
Maia settled back down, but looked up at Ivanova pleadingly. “You’re going to stay?” All the shouting had made her a bit nervous and she was still feeling the effects of the concussion.
“Of course,” Ivanova replied, softening.
“I was so scared,” Maia said, barely above a whisper.
“I know you were,” Ivanova sighed, lying down beside her. “But I’m here now and you’re okay.”
Maia nodded, her eyes fluttered closed again and she was asleep.
She woke on her own again and Ivanova was asleep beside her. Her black eye was hidden in the pillow and her face was smooth and serene in sleep. The bags under her eyes gave Maia an idea as to how long she had been missing and unconscious.
Maia lay quietly for a long moment, watching her sleep. Finally, unable to resist any longer, she leaned over and kissed Ivanova’s wonderfully kissable lips. Ivanova stirred at the gentle kiss, her eyes fluttering open.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Maia said softly.
“Hey yourself,” Ivanova replied sleepily, raising her head a bit.
Maia winced at the rings of green and purple around Ivanova’s eye, smudging into yellow on her cheek. “Ow,” she said sympathetically.
Ivanova shrugged a bit. “It isn’t bad. How are you doing?”
“Better than you,” Maia murmured, lifting her hand to brush gentle fingers over the line of stitches. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Ivanova replied. “It was the stupid Drazi.” She lifted her hand and stroked Maia’s cheek. “I was so worried.”
“You were amazing,” Maia said, her eyes sparkling.
Ivanova chuckled. “And you were concussed.”
“I remember a lot of punching and asskicking,” Maia pointed out. Her smile became more suggestive. “And I’m not concussed now.”
“No, no you aren’t,” Ivanova murmured, already leaning in as her arm snaked around Maia, pulling her close.
***
“I am so sorry about everything,” Sheridan said apologetically, shaking Maia’s hand when the girls had finally emerged two days later.
“Yes, usually our kidnappings are much more genial affairs,” G’Kar added. He had appeared to show them off, having become rather fond of Maia. He and Sheridan formed the farewell party, work or, in the case of Garibaldi, paranoia keeping the rest away.
“That’s good to know,” Maia said, a bit wide-eyed and unsure whether or not to take him seriously.
“Come back any time, my dear,” G’Kar said warmly.
“I will see you soon,” Ivanova said firmly. “Please, no more crises until then?”
“We’ll try,” Sheridan chuckled as they climbed in behind an already-complaining Zathras. “Have a good flight.”
The trip home was quiet and the girls snuggled in the back, watching the fluctuations in hyperspace and then, finally, the stars and familiar planets and moons. Zathras set them down in the park and Ivanova took a deep breath as the hatch hissed open.
“Oh, Fandom, sweet Fandom,” she murmured. “We’re home.”
still fresh in her head. She didn't want to think of Susan leaving in two weeks. Leaving to go off into Space and most likely never see Maia again. Maia closed her eyes, Susan's smiling face hoovering over her. She smiled back and drifted off to sleep.
((ooc: Ivanova and Maia's weekend on Babylon 5 in fanfiction form))