Memory is Not What the Heart Desires (B5. S/D, post SiL, part 2/3)
Memory is Not What the Heart Desires
post Sleeping in Light, Susan/Delenn, rated G
Total: ~17,000 words in three parts
Part Two: Recognition is ~6700 words
Part One: Awakening is here.
Standard disclaimer applies; not my characters or settings or backgrounds. But they are my words.
Part Two: Recognition
Weeks bled into months until it was going on a year since Susan had first been offered her new position on Minbar, since John had left for wherever he'd gone. Delenn still performed the remembrance ritual each morning, and Susan had given up challenging her on it. She simply kept an eye on her friend's health, and tried to lighten her schedule when the older woman seemed excessively tired. Her own schedule was so tight and their duties so different that at times all she could do was alert Delenn's staff and terrorize them into helping. Luckily they shared Susan's concerns and had learned that the human's bark was worse than her bite. As a result, they cooperated with her plans enthusiastically, if discreetly.
The Rangers, backed by a good deal of the Minbari populace, wanted to hold a remembrance of their own commemorating the first anniversary of John's disappearance. To Delenn's distress and Susan's disgust, they seemed to have invested John with an aura of myth similar to that which surrounded Valen. Or King Arthur, Susan fumed as she wended her way to Delenn's quarters. Just like the Minbari to appropriate a stupid legend like that. She thought back to the time when the ersatz King Arthur had visited the station. Marcus had wanted to let the poor man remain happy in his delusion, and Delenn had played along just as she had with that crazy guy who'd been looking for the Holy Grail. Probably they had had a point. Susan had given up on the inherent superiority of reality, although she wasn't ready to embrace delusions of grandeur as Marcus had once suggested. Still, the idea that John was waiting around out in the ether to return when needed by the Alliance was repulsive. It upset Delenn, but it enraged her.
Susan's boots clicked on the marble floor and her cape flapped around her calves as she walked. Valen's robes remained in Delenn's quarters, carefully stored away until Susan felt she was entitled to put them on. Having settled into the job after the usual adjustments to a new command, Susan was now enjoying the position of Ranger One. But she continued to resist the last ritual, the taking of Valen's robes. She definitely didn't deserve the title of Entil'zha, borne first by Valen himself, so many years ago; then by Delenn, Jeffrey Sinclair, and John Sheridan in recent memory. When she told this to Delenn, the Minbari woman had just smiled and shook her head, as if Susan was merely postponing the inevitable.
Alliance affairs were going smoothly for once, and much of Delenn's time was spent dealing with the proposed memorials to John as best she could. Today, she had asked Susan to look over the suggestions and help her pick out the least offensive. It was about halfway through the long Minbari autumn, and Susan had planned to spend the time watching the outdoor training sessions. The new Ranger recruits were promising as always, given the competitive trials they endured to even be chosen for training. Still a significant number washed out early. She liked getting a look at them in the beginning, and privately laid odds against herself as to who would make it, and who would not. It was important to keep standards high, and perversely it made membership in the Anla'Shok even more sought after.
Reaching the door to Delenn's quarters, she paused to give the Ranger honor guard the once-over. Not too bad, she thought, and given how many applicants she had for the position, they had better be. Delenn seemed to take the prestige of her office for granted, but Susan knew at times her friend chafed under the restrictions laid on her. She touched her fingertip to the pad by the door, glared at the iris scanner, and waited for the door to open. The gleaming metal door snicked back into the walls on either side, leaving a wide opening through which she sauntered. "Delenn?" she called, not seeing anyone at first.
"I am in here," came the answer, and Susan headed towards the dining room. Spread up one side of the table and halfway down the other were sets of colored folders. A large screen was set up on one wall, and Delenn was programming in a series of commands by hand, inserting data crystals from a hand-held storage unit. One end of the table held the makings for tea, and an assortment of various foods, both Minbari and human. A stack of sandwiches on the thin seeded bread favored by the Minbari grabbed Susan's attention at once, and her mouth began to water and her stomach gave a slight rumble. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, just after dawn, which Delenn had undoubtedly guessed.
"What's all this?" Susan said, gesturing at the folders. "And what's for lunch?" she added as Delenn returned to the table.
"Those sandwiches you said reminded you of...what was the word? Cucumber! That was it, the ones that went well with tea?" replied Delenn. "And other things. The sandwiches were all I requested from the kitchens, since I knew you liked them. The rest is their idea of a light repast for two women." Wrinkling her nose and gesturing at the platters, she said, "I think they have decided I am not eating enough again."
Susan laughed, "They worry, that's all. You're a national treasure, or something like that." Delenn glared at her, and Susan laughed, "You've got to be used to it by now!"
"I will never be 'used to it' as you say. Every life is important, and mine no any more than any other's," declared Delenn defiantly. "And as for these..." She looked at the folders with despair.
Susan picked one up and flipped through it. The Minbari script was large and carefully drawn, as if by a child. Glancing at the bottom, she saw a signature, Tee'sa ra'Ven, and then below it, Age 8 cycles. "Are you taking on another job, school teacher perhaps?" she said with a raised eyebrow.
Delenn gestured helplessly. "The local Academies set this as a project for the younger classes, to come up with a suitable memorial for John. The suggestions have been culled down to these twenty, and I am supposed to choose one. It will be constructed and dedicated at the memorial observance."
Susan snorted and shook her head. "This is getting way out of hand," She looked through the drawings, "And I don't know how I am supposed to help with these!" She picked up the transparency and held it up to the light. "This one seems to be a life-size portrait done in crystalline mosaic pieces. No way," she shook her head. "Are they all like this?"
"Most of them are," replied Delenn. "A few are not so bad. I have laid them here at this end, so we can look at them over lunch. I particularly liked this one, with the perpetual flame atop a triangular prism. One side has an etched representation of Earth, one of Minbar, and the third has the Babylon 5 station. The child has a sense of history, and a small degree of aesthetic taste."
"Sounds good," said Susan. "But we'll look at all the ones you've selected. The kids will probably have better sense than the adults in this case. Some of the ideas that have passed my desk...who knew the Anla'Shok were such sentimentalists?" Picking up a sandwich, she folded the triangle in half and stuffed it in her mouth. Chewing and swallowing, she said glumly, "Though I suppose I should have suspected it, given Marcus' proclivities."
"Marcus was a good man, who cared deeply about other people but cloaked that caring in light-hearted words." Delenn took a seat, and the cup of tea that Susan handed her. Picking up another folder, she examined it with a sigh, and placed it in the discard pile.
Susan took a look inside and whistled, "A Minbari opera of John's life, three hours long, and performed nightly for two full months! He would have loved that." Delenn glanced at her in surprise, and she laughed. "Kidding, I'm kidding!" Rapidly glancing through the rest of the folders, she said, "I think you picked the best one already...an eternal flame is a common memorial on Earth. There's one in Geneva, commemorating the dead from the Earth-Minbari War."
Delenn didn't register any emotion on her face, but Susan noticed her hand shook slightly as she took the folder and placed it aside, before saying calmly, "I will see my aide notifies the school. The child will be invited to the unveiling; it will be a singular honor for her and her clan."
Susan took another sandwich from the pile. She took one bite, then set it down on the small plate in front of her. Delenn had that stretched look again, as if her skin was thinning and letting the light within shine through. And the light was not a luminous glow, but rather a dimly flickering flame. "Are you all right?" she asked, eyes searching Delenn's face. She put her hand over top of Delenn's hands, both of which lay loosely settled on the table between them, acting more like a barrier than a bridge.
"It is just this idea of a memorial," Delenn confessed. "I do not mind them celebrating John's life, but it feels rather more like a celebration of his death." Her voice shook as she continued, "He is gone, and they do not seem to understand this, or appreciate what it means."
"And what does it mean?" asked Susan, trying to keep the conversation going. Delenn was too apt to withdraw any time she tried to get her to open up. Maybe this idiotic ceremony would be useful in some ways.
Delenn sighed heavily. "It means disruption and discord. The Alliance senses a lessening of my authority with John's passing beyond the Rim, and they mean to take advantage of it. It has been building for months."
Susan pinched her lips together. "Typical. But that will pass. You've lined up support from all the major systems. The Minbari are behind you..." At Delenn's slight shake of the head, Susan stopped, then continued, "They're not behind you?"
"Most of them are. There are factions..." Delenn picked at the few items on her plate. "It will be fine," she said firmly. "Nothing for you to worry about."
Susan gripped Delenn's hands tightly, "It is my business to worry, and my job to take care of you," she replied. Wondering a bit at the intensity of her concern, she reached out one hand, and tucked a strand of hair behind her friend's ear. "You need to talk more about this stuff. Even if I don't understand all the ramifications, I can listen." Her hand lingered on Delenn's cheek, and she felt a gentle pressure as the older woman leaned into her touch. The implied acceptance of her caress sent a sudden rush of warmth through Susan. It felt good. She'd lived on her own so long, with acquaintances and co-workers, fellow officers and civilian EarthForce staff, but no true friends, no intimates. It felt very good.
Delenn gave a small sigh, a puff of warmth against her palm, and Susan took her hand away, unsettled by the strength of her reaction. She went on in a determined tone, "Let's finish this excellent lunch, and then you're coming with me to look over the new recruits. It's a beautiful day and you don't get out enough. Some fresh air will do you good." Delenn was already shaking her head, but Susan just grinned at her. "You told me you cleared your schedule to go over these submissions with me. We've done that, you've made your choice, now you're free to come with me."
Delenn hesitated another moment, but then her smile beamed as bright and clear as the autumn sun lancing through the tall windows. "It has been too long since I attended an Anla'Shok training session. It is a good idea! I thank you, Susan."
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They spent over two hours walking the grounds, observing the training session, and discussing the current political situation. Delenn found her mood lightening as they walked, and her hand crept towards Susan's more than once. She stopped herself, uncertain of the human conventions, blaming the impulse on the familiarity of the occasion. After all, she had done all this before, with John. That was all it was; a kind of physical memory. It had to be. Still, it was good to be out of doors, walking with a friend who remembered, and who understood.
As for Susan, she found herself becoming more aware of Delenn's physical presence. Over the next week awareness gave way to attraction. Susan was pretty sure Delenn had no idea about these feelings. Uneasily, Susan decided it was probably best to keep it that way. Her emotional connection with Delenn had become easy and effortless; they were able to communicate across a conference room with just a look. Delenn had opened up more and more the longer Susan had been there, sharing her hopes and fears for the now established, but still vulnerable, Alliance. Susan had fallen into the role of second to Delenn's leadership position, as smoothly as she'd once backed up Jeff Sinclair, and later John Sheridan. Delenn used her as sounding board and at times, emotional outlet. Susan tapped Delenn's extensive knowledge of the Anla'Shok, coming to her with questions regarding history and tradition. But she never let Delenn usurp her role as commander, and to Susan's relief, the Minbari woman never tried. They were equal authorities in their separate areas, but when they combined in joint agreement, they were formidable indeed.
The next few weeks saw them interacting more and more over the planned ceremony. It was to take place in a public square in the center of Tuzanoor rather than on either the Academy grounds or at Alliance headquarters. Susan protested this decision vehemently, since security would be that much more difficult in such a public arena. Delenn was adamant that it remain open and accessible. Once the event had become inevitable she'd rather thrown herself into it, determined that the speeches and eulogies be based in reality rather than emboss the burgeoning legend.
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A few days before the ceremony they sat lingering over breakfast. Susan sipped her coffee, watching Delenn wince as she tasted some laced with a synthetic cream substitute Susan had brought with her. "Never got used to it, did you?" Susan stated with a brief smile.
Delenn shook her head. "Even with the traditional additives it is bitter stuff. Of course it has its uses." She pushed the cup to one side, and gratefully accepted a fresh one from Susan, filled this time with sennsa'tri tea. Carefully she watched as Susan turned her own cup around and around in the saucer, watching the swirl of the dark liquid. The mood this morning was thoughtful, almost somber and Delenn was just about to inquire as to what was wrong when Susan suddenly asked, "You remember when John came back from Z'ha'dum?"
Delenn shuddered briefly, then replied uneasily, "Of course. Why do you ask?"
"It's just similar, the attitudes we're seeing; the determination to stick him up high on a pedestal, everyone looking to him to solve all their problems even when he's no longer here," Susan began to poke absently at the thin slices of fruit on her plate. They had been laid out in a delicate fan pattern; now they were a jumbled mess.
"I have hopes that attitude will fade in time." Delenn poured herself another cup of tea. "They did before. There are those who are almost as bad about me. In time they may come to regard you with such reverence as well. How would you deal with that eventuality?" she asked curiously.
"God, I don't know," said Susan. "I cultivated an aura of invincibility on the station, and it came in useful aboard ship, but it's not comfortable, not at the level we're seeing here. 'Ivanova is God' I used to say, but I never actually wanted to be one."
"Neither did I," replied Delenn. She crumbled a roll slowly on her plate. "Did I ever tell you I was offered leadership of the Grey Council at one time?" Picking up a linen cloth she swept the crumbs from her fingertips. "It would have meant spending the rest of my life aboard the Valen'tha, never to set foot on a planet again, only to see those on the Council or those who served it."
"Not a job I'd like myself," replied Susan. Tilting her head and examining Delenn closely, she said, "What did you say to the offer?"
"I refused it, of course," said Delenn. "It was viewed as a grave insult at the time. Against all tradition. I've often wondered if my refusal influenced the Council's decision to refuse us assistance in the War." She smiled ruefully at Susan, "Many of my decisions at that time were believed to have been unduly influenced by my preoccupation with humans."
"Maybe one particular human?" asked Susan, staring down at her plate. It wasn't like she didn't already know the answer to that question. She didn't know why she was asking.
"Maybe. Not yet, not at that time. I think. I do not know," Delenn said thoughtfully, wondering in turn why Susan had put the question that way. "There were so many conflicting desires, so many prophecies, so many expectations; at times I did not know what to think."
"I remember," said Susan. "No one was sure what to think of you either. After your change, I mean. Remember that awful woman from ISN?"
Delenn pressed her lips tight against the memory. "She was right to question my motives. I was not certain of them myself. And after all, she knew nothing of the prophecies, or the Vorlons' plans; only our history with your people. It was not a history that would lead to trust or acceptance."
"Still, she sandbagged you with that interview. I suppose it's part of being a journalist, but it's not a very nice part." Susan shook her head. "It's not like you fought the war against us single-handedly." She reached for a brushed steel carafe and poured herself another cup of coffee. Delenn had arranged for the beans to be imported from one of the nearer Earth colonies especially for her. Susan herself still had hope that the small coffee plant she'd brought with her would eventually bear fruit.
Delenn's hands lay still in her lap, her head bowed and her shoulders slumped. Susan looked at her with alarm, and set down her cup with a slight crash into the saucer. "Hey, what'd I say?" When Delenn did not answer, she scooted her chair over and put one arm around Delenn's shoulders and asked anxiously, "Are you feeling all right?" Inwardly she cursed her own stupidity; first bring up the place where John had died, at least the first time, then remind Delenn of that awful reporter.
Delenn squared her shoulders and raised her eyes to meet Susan's. "There is something I need to tell you."
"Go ahead," replied Susan. "I'm listening."
Delenn shook her head. "It is not that easy..." Sitting back in her chair, she gently, and reluctantly, disengaged from Susan's casual embrace. Placing her hands palm down on the table, as if to steady herself, she began. "The Minbari do not have a tradition of raising monuments to the dead. That is why this ceremony is so difficult. The fact that my people want this means that they do not believe that John is dead, not as your people understand death. They believe that he has moved to another phase of existence, that he is still here in some way."
Susan tried to keep perfectly still, not wanting to break the flow of Delenn's confidence. It was a roundabout discussion but that's how the Minbari were, circling round and round a topic, approaching it obliquely. That was when they weren't being cryptic on purpose.
Delenn continued, but with a seeming change of subject. "You mentioned a monument in Geneva, to do with the war."
Susan nodded. "A memorial to those who died in the Earth-Minbari War. I've laid a wreath there, for my brother Ganya. It's an eternal flame, set in a circle of interlocking triangles of black slate, and white and deep purple marble. The colors are those related to mourning in various Earth cultures."
Delenn winced briefly, then looking down at her hands, carefully examining the criss-cross pattern of light blue veins across the back that were more prominent each year. Speaking slowly and carefully, she said, "The thing is...I started the war."
Susan froze in place, remaining physically close to Delenn, but feeling as if a chasm had opened between them. "What do you mean?"
"The war was begun in error, a misunderstanding on the part of our people and of yours. The decision to turn a tragic mistake into a colossal tragedy was mine."
The words fell into the deep well of silence that had opened between them. Susan looked inward for a moment, testing her own emotions, and found only a dull ache of regret. Looking at Delenn, she was shocked to see age settle in the shallow lines on her face. She cleared her throat and asked, "What did you do exactly?"
"I had just joined the Council. When your ship fired on ours, and Dukhat was killed, mine was the deciding vote for war rather than peace, for attack rather than talk." Delenn raised her eyes to meet Susan's. There were ghosts hidden in the depths. "It was my fault."
Susan considered this for a moment. One vote of five for war, and how many years spent expiating what was obviously a deep feeling of guilt...she sighed inwardly. It was all so many years ago. Then a thought struck her. "Did John know?"
"I never told him," Delenn confessed. "I do not know if he knew, but he never said anything." She smiled wanly, "John did not spend much time with the reformed Council, or members of the old Council either. His time was taken up with the Alliance. I was our liaison to the Minbari government."
"Why didn't you tell him?" Answers flashed through her mind, but she kept silent, waiting for Delenn to reach an equilibrium.
Delenn put one hand to her temple, as if to quell a sharp pain, and answered slowly. "I had already appealed to him for forgiveness once. Not telling him my suspicions about Anna...betraying his trust in me; that he could forgive that transgression was more than I could have ever expected. After the Shadow War, I considered telling him, but we had decided, together, to focus on our lives in the present. We lived in the moment, enjoying every moment we had. It was never the right time."
"That doesn't make any sense, Delenn!" Susan couldn't help it; her voice rose in volume and gained a sharp edge. "If he'd already forgiven you over Anna, why not this?"
"I know it is contradictory, but I am not a being of pure logic," Delenn flashed back.
"Why tell me?" Susan found herself at sea with this turmoil of emotions. "Why tell me when you didn't feel the need to tell John?"
Delenn stood up, moving carefully towards the long windows that led out to the balcony. She shifted a thin veil of curtain and looked out at the brightening landscape. The city lay in the distance, the great public park a triangle of green surrounded by grey stone pathways and short blue walls. "The memorial," she answered. "You said it reminded you of the one on Earth. I know you lost family in the war. This is a personal matter for you, and there will be an ever-present reminder here. We will have to work closely together, I hope for years..." She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window. "Besides, I find I am tired of secrets."
"Well." Susan sat at the table and began to tap her fork against the edge of her plate, wondering what she could say. The whole thing didn't seem that important to her, crazy things happened in the heat of battle, and Delenn had spent her life fighting for and alongside humans, more than making up for one bad decision. The tension in her friend's posture showed the importance of what she said next. Blowing out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, she said, "I won't say it doesn't matter, because it does. It matters to you. If it's forgiveness you want, I'm not sure I'm the one to give it, but for what it's worth, you have it."
Delenn didn't move, and Susan got up and came up behind her. The sun was blinding now, and Delenn's hand was twisted in the dull green gauze of the curtains, pulling it tight against her chest. Susan touched her gently on the shoulder, moving close enough to feel the warmth, both from the other woman's body, and the autumnal sun. "Are you afraid I won't be able to handle this?"
"Yes," came the soft reply. "Afraid, that is, that I...that is we, the Alliance and the Anla'Shok, might lose you."
"Not likely," replied Susan. "You're stuck with me." She put her arms around Delenn from behind, briefly surrounding her with a light embrace. "I quit my other job, you know. Resigned my commission. I've got nowhere else to go." Delenn leaned back against her, and Susan could feel the tension draining from her friend's body. This felt right, both the offer and receipt of support and comfort.
"Then we will not speak of this again," said Delenn. It was self-indulgent, she thought, to stand there and take comfort from one she had wronged, but she couldn't make herself move away. Susan's sturdy support, her friendship, made her feel safe. Confession, the humans said, was good for the soul. Relief lit a warm glow inside her, and she felt years of guilt unwind and fall away. The glow burned even brighter as Susan gently rested her cheek against Delenn's hair, a movement so soft and quick Delenn wasn't entirely sure it had happened. Her heart sped up and she remained perfectly still, wondering what meaning she should attach to Susan's actions, and what was the proper ritual response. But it had been a highly emotional moment. That was probably all it was, an affectionately human reaction to the catharsis of confession and forgiveness, easily misinterpreted. Her own reactions she would examine later, in privacy.
A chime sounded in the outer room, and Delenn moved back towards the table. Checking the time on her tablet, she sighed aloud. "I have to go now. Another meeting of the Commission on Agricultural Trade has been called for this morning. Usually I would send an aide to take notes and report back, but there are some wrinkles to the new agreements that need discussion."
"What could they possibly be discussing that would need your attention?" asked Susan, bemused. She picked up her cup and quickly drained the lukewarm coffee in preparation to leave.
"Earth is going to lease the genetic code for several varieties of your coffee plants to Minbar. Our scientists feel they can develop a strain adapted to the Minbari climate." Delenn picked up her tablet and smiled at Susan, unable to keep the mischief from her voice. "Coffee, it turns out, is both a light intoxicant and an aphrodisiac to my people. It's become quite popular here, but it is expensive to import."
Susan spluttered a bit as she set down her cup and followed Delenn from the room. Maybe that coffee plant in her room would come in handy some day....
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After all the details for the memorial ceremony were in progress or complete, Delenn took half a day off from her regular duties to prepare herself. Even though there was no tradition among the Minbari for such memorials, there were rituals she felt called upon to perform. Aside from the traditional rituals of remembrance, she added portions of a re-birth ceremony. The dedication of the memorial was being seen by others as a turning point, a change of direction; she had decided to examine it from that viewpoint. Her own emotions in regard to John's memorial had been mixed at first, then clear, then had become clouded once again. She needed time and she needed privacy.
Delenn was self-aware enough to realize that she had become closer to Susan than anyone else currently in her life. It was a relationship she cherished. At times she found herself wondering what Susan thought of this closeness. Her friend could be impersonal and logical during working hours, then warm and almost tender in their private interactions. It was confusing, and at times Delenn felt as if she was walking on the edge of a precipice. Today she would try to sort out this mix of emotions, and regain her equilibrium so that her focus, and the focus of the ceremony, stayed on John.
After several hours of meditation, she rose slowly from the floor, feeling stiff and awkward. Age was unimportant, and yet its effects were still felt. The chime from her comunit continued to sound as she approached the screen. 'Yes,' she said to the blank screen, initiating contact with the caller.
"Hey Delenn." Susan's voice came through full of warmth and concern. "How are the rituals coming? You've been out of contact all day long."
Delenn flushed, paradoxically pleased that Susan had bothered to check on her. "I am fine," she said. "The rituals are almost completed."
Susan cocked her head and asked, "Do you want to get together this evening? For dinner maybe?"
Delenn suddenly felt a flash of memory, of John asking a similar question. "I..." she hesitated visibly.
Susan's eyes clouded over. "I see. Well, you'd better get back. I've got some work to finish myself before the ceremony."
Delenn started to protest, then realized as emotions catapulted through her that she wanted, no needed, more time to process what she was feeling. "I do have some more to accomplish," she said, surprised by the intensity of her disappointment, even though it was her own decision. "Perhaps we should meet tomorrow?"
Susan nodded, and flashed a brief smile. "See you then."
Delenn inclined her head back in the position between respect and affection. "Farewell."
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The day of the memorial dedication broke clear and fine. A chill had set in that past week, presaging a hard and early winter, but this day was unexpectedly warm. Susan groused to herself a bit; having to wear her dress uniform, layers of cloth topped off by that ridiculous cape, was going to be less pleasant in the sunny weather. She arrived early, going over the security measures again with her Rangers. They were manning the perimeter, the stage, and also were set at intervals among the crowd to watch for trouble. None was expected; everything had been going smoothly, but Susan believed in preparation for the worst.
Delenn was being escorted by her honor guard to the stage when Susan finally finished her inspection. She made her way to the low platform, which surrounded the memorial in a semi-circle. Taking her place at Delenn's side, she watched the crowd while the speeches began, and continued on into midday. The children of the city Academies were seated in rows just in front of the platform, on benches erected for the purpose. Susan glanced down at them, so straight and still. Not a squirmer or a whiner among them; they seemed focused on the ceremony. She saw one girl looking back at her, and bowed her head slightly to the child. A rapid grin flashed across the little girl's face, and she waved her hand at Susan surreptitiously, then anxiously looked down the row towards her tutor, who was oblivious to her charge's forward behavior. Susan suddenly felt more at home than she had since she'd arrived on Minbar. Kids were the same everywhere, even the good ones were capable of trying to put something over on the teacher. She wondered what Delenn had been like as a girl, and looked forward to asking her friend some probing questions later.
The children were standing, ready to leave, filing out row by row, when Susan felt the hair on the back of her neck rise to attention. Something wasn't right. Scanning the crowd, she caught sight of two of her Rangers converging on a human standing just behind the kids and directly in front of the crystal pyramid. Glancing to her right, she saw Delenn standing just behind the memorial, having just lit the flame. There was no time to think, only to react, and she moved towards Delenn, shouting 'Get down!' Her outstretched hands contacted Delenn, pushing her further away as time stretched and extended. A bright light seemed to both obscure and outshine John's flame. There was screaming, and then nothing; no light, no sound, no motion or sensation.
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Susan opened her eyes. It was dark. No, there was a spot of light; she could just see it out of the corner of her left eye. Turning her head to focus on the light, she felt a thrumming ache in her temple. It was so strong it made her stomach turn over, and she quickly returned her head to its original position. She must have made a noise, because the next thing she knew, a familiar face swam into place over hers. Everything was out-of-focus and hard to see in the dim light that danced to her left.
"Delenn?" she managed to say. Her voice was rough and harsh and sounded loudly in her ears, setting her head to aching again. Where was she anyway? Moving her hands, she felt soft fabrics, silky underneath and velvety on top.
"You are awake!"
Delenn's voice sounded like a trumpet and Susan winced at the sound. The next words were softer, almost whispered. "Is that better?"
Susan couldn't seem to locate the correct words, and Delenn went on, concern obvious in her voice.
"Can you hear me? You were hurt in the explosion, do you remember?"
Susan tried to shake her head, but regretted that immediately. Finally she managed to say, "I hear you all right, but I don't remember any explosion. What happened? Was anyone hurt?" Anxiety flared through her, cutting through the pain, and she tried to sit up. "Were you hurt? Where am I?"
"I am fine," replied Delenn, putting her hands on Susan's shoulders. "Lie still. You have a concussion, and a fractured skull. The healer was impressed. He says your head is as hard as a Minbari's."
"I suppose you think that's a good thing," grumbled Susan. "But you still haven't told me where I am." Moving her eyes instead of her head was slightly better in the pain department. "This isn't the Medical facilities."
"You are in my quarters," replied Delenn.
"Why?" asked Susan bluntly. Her eyes were adjusting to the dim light, just visible to the left, which by its motion was candle light. She could see the outline of Delenn's figure, sitting on the side of the bed, quite close to her. Checking her own body, relieved to find all four limbs intact, she found she was wearing some kind of sleepwear, silken pants and a button up shirt. "How did I get here?"
"I had you brought here. They would not let me stay with you in the Medical facility, and I refused to leave you alone. This was the compromise." Delenn put her hand against Susan's forehead. "They have remote sensors in the room, but I like to check myself. No fever, and your mind seems clear."
"Clear to you maybe, but I'm still confused. What happened, Delenn? The last thing I remember we were at the ceremony in the public square...there was music, the kids were standing, filing past the crystal pyramid..." Susan's eyes widened, and her hands clutched the coverlet. "They didn't take out the kids, did they?"
"No, the explosion came as the school delegations were leaving, returning to the Academies. It was designed to take out the memorial, not directed at any specific person," Delenn explained.
Susan grimaced. "Not likely they weren't after you," she said firmly. "You were going to be in the center of things all day. If they wanted to take out the damn sculpture, there was plenty of time before or after the ceremony." She carefully examined Delenn. "You look okay. Do we know who was behind it? Are the Rangers looking for them?" Susan threw off the coverlet and swung one leg to the floor. Delenn reached for her, catching her arm to prevent her leaving the bed.
"It was a hired mercenary, a human. He took his own life as the Rangers closed in on him. We do not know his purpose in committing this act of violence." Delenn now had one arm around Susan, half holding, and half supporting her, "You must have seen something. The first I knew of any problem was your shouting at me to get down, then a bright light, and silence."
"Silence?" asked Susan. Her head was swimming with the effort she had made, and she leaned back against Delenn in relief. There was no-one to chase down, no enemy to punish. "What kind of bomb doesn't make any noise?"
"They tell me it was some kind of release of focused light. It blew the prism apart, and vaporized the particles. There were some injuries as the crowd scattered, but none were serious. Yours were the worst." Delenn was stroking Susan's hair, sweeping the chestnut waves streaked with grey away from her eyes. "After pushing me away, you were touched by the path of the beam. You flew off the back of the platform, and your head impacted one of the support pillars." Gently, she touched the back of Susan's head. "You are lucky to be alive." Fear and grief fragmented her voice as her tongue caught on the words. "Do not do this again. I cannot bear it."
Susan listened carefully in the stillness that followed Delenn's request. She heard her own heart, pounding with unspoken declarations, and Delenn's breathing, rapid and warm against her neck as she supported her. Turning slowly, she looked into Delenn's face, the eyes wide and pupils dark in the dim light. No time like the present, Susan thought. Besides, given their lives and recent events, who knew if she'd get another chance? "Mi'shal'an," Susan said, careful to keep the proper intonation. Reaching up her hand, she touched Delenn's forehead, then both eyes, then her lips. Repeating the gesture on her own face, she then placed her hand on her own heart. "Shal'an te mi," she finished.
As Susan waited she pondered the extent of her potential mistake, all the levels of inappropriate this was and how she'd ruined the most important relationship in her life by pushing it further than it was ever meant to go. Her vision blurred and she blinked away tears of frustration; it was never the right time, never the right person, not for her. She should know that by now. Squaring her shoulders, she sat upright, shifting away from Delenn, preparing her 'forget it' speech, and wondering if she could still keep her job. Probably there was a Minbari ritual for forgetting, like there was for remembering. She made a mental note to look it up when she got back to her quarters.
"I think..." Delenn's low voice cut clearly through the fog of emotion and pain covering Susan.
"I think I love you as well."
Susan would have whistled her surprise but soft lips covered hers and her astonishment dwindled first to wonder, then expanded into a joy so intense it threatened to leave her forever speechless.
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