"Commander?"

Susan Ivanova looked up. She'd been lost in thought - no, she chided herself, I was brooding again. I do that far too much nowadays. They need me. "Yes, Lieutenant. What is it?"

David Corwin met her eyes, which was still a difficult thing for him to do, and was shocked at how tired she looked. For a moment, he considered actually saying what the crew in C&C had been thinking for the past week: You're pushing yourself too hard. You need to rest. You're trying to fill in for both of them, but if you keep at this pace you're going to follow them to the grave.

But her gaze hardened at his hesitation, and he lost his chance. Still, he was much cooler with her than he once had been. He shrugged an eyebrow, twisted up a corner of his mouth. "Your shift's been over for five minutes. Lieutenant Forsyth is on now."

Forsyth caught his cue. He spread his hands. "Until you sign command over for my shift, I don't get paid."

Ivanova began to protest, then sighed. She signed the duty roster, then handed it to Forsyth on her way out the door. "Remember I'm on call if you need me."

"First thing. I promise." The moment she was gone, Forsyth glanced at Corwin, who nodded and set the address for Ivanova's comlink beeper to Unavailable Except Code Red.

.O.O.O.O.

The problem was, she didn't have anywhere to go.

Susan deliberately wandered right past her own door. Her quarters were an unseemly reminder that she still had a life; more, there was still some wine and vodka there, and she had been drinking too much this week. Hour of the Wolf, indeed. More like The Hour of the Drunken Bear.

She realized she had no idea what she needed. The Garden, while lovely and inspiring, did not quiet her as it did Delenn or... or...

"Sheridan," she suddenly said aloud. "John Sheridan, and Michael Garibaldi. They were my friends, damn it, and I will not be unable to their names."

But there was no one to hear her defiance, and after a moment she grimaced and wandered on.

The Zocalo was out; it didn't appeal to her most of the time anyway; and even with the subdued tension of everyone waiting for the next Shadow attack it was too loud and... boisterous? Jolly? Raucous. Earhart's was out for the same reason, and because there was wine, and vodka, and - worse - sympathetic comrades she did not know well enough to spill her guts to.

Damn few of those, actually. She'd spoken briefly with Stephen, but he was just getting back up to speed - not the best choice of words, that - in MedLab; and also, it seemed to her, he didn't want to think too hard about Michael's disappearance in particular. He hadn't had the chance to talk with Garibaldi since before his Walkabout, and any confrontation of his loss right now would be wound around with all that had been unresolved between the two of them.

Nor could she speak with Delenn, which would have been a comfort. From what Lennier had told her, the Minbari Ambassador was suffering harder than Ivanova was. After a bloody long time, she and Sheridan had finally admitted their love for each other, a crazy and difficult thing under the best of circumstances... and they had done so under the worst possible circumstances. Now Delenn blamed herself for his death, and her every moment was haunted by him.

She couldn't talk to Lyta.

Susan stopped, letting her head fall forward to bump the wall, suddenly as close to tears as she had been since... Talia. She gritted her teeth, knowing it was stupid, knowing that might actually make the tears come more quickly, but not knowing how to stop.

"Is something wrong, Commander?"

She straightened too quickly, her hands smoothing her uniform out of habit. "G'Kar! Y-you startled me."

"I startled you?" Citizen G'Kar walked up to her, cocking an eyeridge. "I find it hard to imagine you startled by anything, Commander. Especially since you hardly ever come to the Diplomatic Wing without good reason."

Ivanova glanced around. She was indeed in the entry corridor of Green Sector. She let out a short, harsh sigh. "Damn it."

G'Kar's eyes narrowed. "There is something wrong."

"Oh. No, G'Kar, I'm sorry." She realized she must look like some harbinger of doom. "Nothing like that. Nothing new, anyway. I'm just trying to decide if I'm madder at Security for letting me wander down here unchallenged, or..."

"Or at yourself, for wandering down here in the first place?"

Ivanova forced a smile. "I didn't just wander down here."

"You chose the word, not I. Nevertheless, the three Narn who have kept watch on you for the past few minutes did mention that a human Security officer confirmed your entry into Green Sector by the security clearance transmission in your comlink, or some such mysticism." He waved his hands, as if to sweep the formalities away. "They also mentioned that you did not even acknowledge the man's presence; I believe the human phrase is 'going through the motions'. From what my Narn tell me, this has been common for you as of late."

"Wh- you've been keeping me under surveillance?"

"No, of course not." G'Kar looked hurt. "As leader of the Narn on Babylon Five, I hear all reports from the various security team leaders. They keep an eye on everything and everybody. Perhaps more so with command staff; but then, we have so few left."

Ivanova found it difficult to meet G'Kar's eyes. He noticed this, and stepped closer. "We are all left hollow by their loss, Commander."

"Some of us felt pretty hollow before then, G'Kar."

"Would you like to talk?"

Now she did look at him, in surprise. After a few moments, she nodded. "Do you have anything to drink?"

"I am sorry, but, no. I have not kept any liquor since before my incarceration."

"Good. I've got to stop."

.O.O.O.

G'Kar's quarters were spacious and comfortable, as befit the representative of one of the major races, and thus seemed more spartan by their emptiness. Some candles, one multicolored votive holder, his Book of G'Quon... not much more. Susan, who was more used to the vast amount of... stuff in Delenn's nearly identical room layout, ran a fingertip over an empty shelf as if to convince herself the environmental filtration system was working properly. "Didn't you... used to own more?"

"Many of my creature comforts were sent back to Narn to aid my family after the bombings." G'Kar gestured towards a couch. "And, after certain recent events, I've found knick-knacks and what-nots to be distracting."

"Hm. I've always liked them. A few, at least, here and there." He seemed to be waiting for her to sit, so she sat. "Keepsakes of better times."

"Souvenirs of our own lives." He settled into the chair opposite her, and pointed to a spot on the wall. "I used to have a ceremonial axe, right up there, the axe with which I first killed in battle. It was crossed with the sword of my office as a member of the Kahri. I could look up there every day and remind myself of how much blood I had shed to no avail, or think back on the self-rule stolen from my people." His lip curled upward. "Now, that axe is chopping firewood for my brother's family, and the children tell wonderful tales of how Uncle G'Kar's sword - much better made than anything they could hope to obtain otherwise - defends them from dangers by its mere presence. My youngest nephew will hold up his little wooden play sword, and pretend it is mine, and send it on adventures. It flies -" He waved his fingers about. "It carries on conversations with all manner of oppressed persons, or with villains just before it dances around them and chops them to pieces." She could not suppress a laugh, and he smiled triumphantly at having caused it. "And they are still the axe with which I first killed in battle, and the sword of my office in the Kahri.

"So you see, it was easy to part with my things. They were needed elsewhere by those with whom I share the memories of better times, and I much prefer shared memories to cold keepsakes."

Ivanova's smile became strained. "Yes, well. I guess that's my problem. I don't..." She let out a long breath. "Keepsakes are all I have left. I have them in abundance, and also I have them in every report I have to read that Sheridan or Garibaldi used to read. I have them in every situation that John could've defused with a word or a look, and with every lowlife who may see me as a a frail woman or a cast-iron bitch, but thank their lucky stars that at least I'm not Garibaldi. Their offices are filled with their own keepsakes, and I feel like I've adopted them. I walk past their doors and remember why they're locked. And, frankly, as far as my memories of them are concerned, this whole damn station is the biggest knick-knack of them all."

"Are you sure Draal would not contest that?"

She chuckled again, and glanced to one side. "How come you can make me laugh all of a sudden?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. But I have not seen you smile in what seems a very long time, so I shall not question it. You have a lovely smile, Susan."

"... Thank you." The use of her first name startled her - twice in one night, she thought with bemusement. She found herself looking at him intently, and realized he was looking at her just as intently. A small warning went off in her head; to her own surprise, she ignored it. "What happened to you, G'Kar? Even before the Centauri attacked your homeworld, you used to be... what's the polite word...?"

"Barbaric." His eyes glittered crimson. "Life was a continual exercise in petty vengeance, the pursuit of pleasure, hollow posturing to shore up an inflated ego. I am not proud of what I was, Susan." He reached for a flask of water. "I filled my days with attempts to further my world or, worse, myself, at the expense of others; I filled my nights with exotic pleasures that had no meaning. Worst of all, I filled my thoughts with exactly the sort of hate the Centauri could hold up and say, 'See? They are no better than animals'." He studied the flask. "Mollari was right about me all along."

"Not really," said Ivanova. "You were rash, yes, but for you to have been this open to - to revelation, and to let yourself change so quickly -"

"Let myself change? I had no choice whatsoever." G'kar sipped at the water, and gestured towards her with the flask for emphasis. "When you are shown Truth that directly, that intimately, you can no more remain entirely what you were than an egg can stuff itself back into its shell."

"So, it's... sit there and spoil, or make yourself an omelet."

"Exactly."

Ivanova shook her head. "It's funny. I've been sitting here for a week, feeling sorry for myself. It's about time I stopped. But... I can't. When - a friend of mine died, not so long ago, I thought my heart was going to break. I'm still not sure it didn't. The only thing that held me together was work... knowing the war was coming, that I'd be needed.." She lowered her gaze, and G'Kar waited, and at last she continued, still not looking at him. "John and Michael were two of my best friends."

"They are much missed by all."

"I know that. And I feel selfish and stupid, thinking my pain is worse than anyone else's. I saw Delenn just yesterday. She's waiting to die. But -" She clenched her teeth. "I didn't even realize how much I'd come to depend on their friendship. How soothing John's whole attitude is, like nothing that ever came along was so difficult that we couldn't handle it. How I could be so absorbed in what I was doing that I didn't know what time it was, and Garibaldi would come up behind me with a joke, and I'd come back to myself." She waved a hand in futility. "They made this place... this war... bearable. To have both of them vanish, so completely... it's just torn a big hole in my life. And I feel like I'm spilling out through it. I don't think work is going to be enough this time. I just feel... empty."

"Alone?"

"Heh. Yes. Alone. And the worst part of that is, I'n not, not really. The people in C&C are concerned; I can see it in their faces. Zack, and Franklin, and Lennier... even Marcus. I know they want to help, but..."

"But they have their own problems, without the additional burden of yours."

"Yes."

"Have you considered that perhaps they bear that same burden, and that perhaps you could help each other share it?"

"I have. But... I can't open up to them as easily as I could John or Michael."

"Have you spoken to the religious fellow, what is - Brother Theo."

"I thought about it. He's a good listener, and his advice is well-meant and usually the right thing to do. But he's so busy himself these days, I didn't want to bother him." She looked up wryly. "Besides, I wasn't sure he'd be much comfort."

"You do not usually seek comfort, Susan."

"No." She smiled a little. "Neither do you."

"No," he agreed. "But I have a fondness for granting it, when presented with an opportunity." He pointed at the table beside her. "Hand me that, will you?"

Ivanova picked up the solitary object on the table, the multicolored candle holder. Designed to hold votives, and about the size of her fist, it was tooled of silver, and had dozens of gemstones for the light to shine through. "It's lovely."

"That it is." G'Kar came around the table to sit beside her on the couch. "It was given to me by a young woman of... more than passing acquaintance."

"Oh, an old girlfriend?" She grinned at the notion.

"I believe the politest phrasing would be, 'local courtesan'."

Ivanova looked at him in mock surprise. "That's right. I recall you having quite a taste for human female... courtesans."

He nodded. "If not so voracious an appetite as I once had."

"Why not? Did you wake up one morning and suddenly realize we were ugly, squishy and pink?" Should I have said "we"?

"On the contrary," he said quietly. "I woke up and realized the contempt I felt towards them, wrongly, and the contempt I felt towards myself, more justifiably."

"Yourself?"

"They were merely doing what they were paid to do - and, I might add, they were quite good at it. Like everyone else, they came here with dreams, and, like many, saw those dreams fall apart. But they were determined to survive, to thrive, even if they had to sell their own bodies to do it." G'Kar sighed. "But I was blind to all that. I told myself that their lonely struggle for survival was the final debasement of self, that contributing to their moral decline was a perfectly acceptable chastisement of them - giving them what they deserved - and that my incidental carnal pleasure was not the height of hypocrisy. They were simply trying to survive; I was the one who put all that false morality on top of it. Still, they forgave me." He smiled in remembering. "There was one in particular, named Lara, a young woman of great beauty, wit, and generosity. She gave me this, when I saw her for the last time. Now I give it to you."

Susan's mouth fell open. "Oh, no., G'Kar, I can't -"

"Please. It would mean much to me."

"But -"

"But, but, but! I have heard you say that word far too many times this evening, Commander. You flay yourself with it, heaping excuses on top of delays, contingencies on top of recriminations. It is very hard for me to watch anyone work so hard to feel so miserable, particularly you. Please. Accept this as a token of my esteem. It is a gift with, as you say, no strings attached."

She started to protest again, then realized it wouldn't work. "May I ask why?"

"Some gems possess healing properties. Lara gave me this in the hope that, in seeing so many different variations of the same light, I would find the one that would ease the pain she saw in my spirit. I give it to you, in the hope that it will ease the pain I see in yours."

Susan sighed. "G'Kar, I really appreciate this. But -"

"There's that word again."

"- but it's just a candle holder."

"Oho. Now it's 'just'. Well." He reached across her, his leather robes pressing against her tunic for a moment, and picked up a match from the table. He struck it with his gloved thumb, and lit the once, the jewels came alive in Ivanova's hands, seeming to dance in the intricate metalwork. Some kaleidoscopic effect sent colored and fragmented light back and forth between and through the jewels, new colors shifting with every flicker of flame. Every detail and flaw of the gemstones stood revealed, and was made more beautiful by the touch of the light. Ivanova shook her head in amazement. "I've never seen anything like this."

"When I first got it, I saw only the cost of the materials. Later I came to see the natural beauty of the jewels, the craft and care that went into working the silver." He leaned closer to her. "It was not until recently that I saw the light itself."

Susan turned to look at him, and G'Kar took one of her hands in his. "I wish I could ease your pain. And you may never find the comfort you seek. But you do not suffer alone. And there is joy beyond." Then he lifted the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it.

Susan did not move for a moment. Then she set the candle down on the table, leaned towards him, and kissed him on the cheek. He looked puzzled but not displeased. "Why did you do that?" he said.

Her eyes narrowed, and she swallowed against a suddenly dry mouth. "Because you're the only person I know, dead or alive, who's... at peace with himself. Who actually seems to enjoy being alive. Even right here, right now."

G'Kar turned her hand over in his.. "Right here... right now... is a very fine place to be." Then, he lifted her hand once more, and kissed her palm.

Susan inhaled, and began to draw her hand away, only to cup it around the back of G'Kar's neck and pull him forward.

His lips were warm and softer than she'd thought, and she slid both arms around his neck, and he slipped his arms around her waist, and they kissed for what seemed a terribly long time.

Part of her brain apparently thought it was in a xenobiology seminar. Although she'd known the Narn were at least partially reptilian, there was enough mammalian stock of one form or another that he tasted very fine and exotic to her, and she wondered how she tasted to him. Now she could feel the the dry warmth and suppleness of his skin, and she detected a subtle aroma to him that reminded her of leather. That, and the actual leather of his robes, took her back to her youth, and riding lessons, and a giddy exhilaration she hadn't felt since she first went to space. G'Kar ran his gloved hand down to her hip, and she pressed both hands to his chest. "G'Kar -"

"What is wrong with me?" His face fell on cue, as if he had been waiting for rebuke. "Commander, I am so sorry. I've gone too far - presumed too much -"

"G'Kar." She took hold of the lapels of his robes, drew him to her, and kissed him again. He kissed back, and she felt both of them trembling. "You have not gone far enough, and you've presumed just right."

"I am taking advantage of your pain."

"Take advantage of it. I'm taking advantage of you."

He started to reply, but she stifled it with another kiss, and they wrapped around each other. His hand slid down her hip again, and he drew her around until she was all but sitting on his lap, and then all but reclining across it.

Susan felt lost in a sea of emotion and sensation. When his hand went to the front of her tunic, stroking and subtly searching for the catch, she tensed, then sighed as he worked it open and pushed it past her shoulders. She wore a sheer athletic bra, and his gloved fingertips played lightly with her through it. He paused, lifted his hand to her cheek. "Susan... if I truly have presumed too much, I think now is the time to tell me."

"Yeah." She covered his hand with her own. "In about two minutes, I won't be able to help myself either." She turned her head fractionally to kiss his palm, and then slowly and quite deliberately moved his hand back to her breast.

G'Kar's eyes gleamed with the barbarism of old, and he took hold of the thin center strip of the bra and simply ripped it open.

Susan groaned, letting her head fall back, and G'Kar leaned over her and kissed her again, his tongue seeking hers. She embraced him again, less intensely this time, and winced for a moment with the pain of his studded body armor pressing diamond-shaped marks into her breasts and belly; but even the pain helped, by clearing her head a little, so that when he broke the kiss and looked at her questioningly, she stroked his face. "It's a little bright in here."

"Lights dim to ten percent," G'Kar murmured as he kissed her throat, and the room was intimate by the time he reached the hollow between her breasts. Her skin seemed to glow in the darkness, and his own skin dark and mysterious against hers, as if he were some... otherworldly creature having his way with her. She managed not to laugh at that. She felt his arms moving slightly; he was worrying off his gloves, taking as little attention away from her as possible. Sweet, she smiled to herself, pushing towards him with a gasp as he sucked at her flesh just a bit too hard. One glove, then the other, dropped to the floor with a leathery thud; and now his bare hands - she'd never seen his bare hands, she realized - caressed her with confident skill and, wonder of all, affection.

It occurred to her to wonder for a moment if he'd planned this, and if so for how long. Should I be shocked? Offended? Offended that he's waited this long? Or is this a bid to take over the station? What if, while I'm distracted here, the Narns are raiding C&C?

If Corwin calls right now, and sees us, who'll drop dead of a heart attack first, him or me?

G'Kar had just discovered the fastening of her belt. Now he drew the strip of leather from her pants with a slow rasping sound, his eyes never leaving hers, and fever overcame her mind. She never quite remembered how much or even whether G'Kar helped remove the rest of her clothing, or indeed his own clothing. The next thing Susan was clearly aware of was the look of delighted astonishment in his eyes as she all but shoved him back on the couch, and then wrapped her naked form around his.

They coupled with an intensity born of desire and of uncompromising self-denial. When he entered her at last, holding her upright sitting on his lap, her eyes flew wide, and her entire body went slack against him; but by the time he eased her onto her back, her hands were cupped around his buttocks to keep him inside her.

Susan's head rocked from side to side. Small sounds escaped her throat, and as he drove faster into her, as she lifted her hips to his with every thrust, she felt tears on her face. She blinked them back, not quite willing to curse herself for foolishness.

And then she felt a tear fall to her face from the eye of G'Kar.

A sob welled up inside her, and her arms flew around his neck, and she cradled his face against hers, and they both wept with joy and despair and release, and G'Kar filled her, and she enveloped him, and the light of a thousand jewels could not equal them.

.O.O.O.

After a time they moved to the bed; and after another time they slept in each other's arms; and about forty-five minutes after they awoke Susan set the alarm on her comlink so that she would not be late for her next shift.

Susan's head rested on G'Kar's chest, relaxing to the slow drum of his heart. G'Kar gathered her hair in his fingers, which felt pleasant, and brought it to his face, breathing in her aroma. "The scent of a woman's hair. There is nothing like it in the universe."

"Hm. Women in general, or me?"

"Both. Narn women envy humans for their tresses, although they would never say anything. Partly for cosmetic reasons, but mostly because of the texture, and the richness of its smell. My former aide Na'Toth was both disgusted by and wildly jealous of Delenn's transformation, not because of her prophecies or position in the scheme of things but because she suddenly had the most glorious long hair."

Susan chuckled. "And me?"

"And you, in particular, caught my attention. As if your beauty was not enough in itself, the first time I caught the scent of your hair I nearly grew drunk on it. The barbarian in me wanted you from the moment I saw you, Commander." He stroked her brow. "The diplomat in me, on the other hand, believes the timing is probably perfect."

Susan kissed his breastbone, and then lower, laying perpendicular to him on the bed. She suddenly felt empty, not emotionally but physically, and wanted him again. Her hand slid down his torso to caress him, and the sigh he gave as she took him in her mouth quietly thrilled her. He could just reach her ass, and as he kneaded her ass and the small of her back, she had a wild, impulsive desire for him to be rough with her, cruel, to take her rather than make love with her. For that moment her flesh seemed to melt against him, and with a groan she took him all the way into her throat. He snapped his head back with a gasp, and did not seem to breathe for several minutes, until a long, hoarse sigh escaped him, building to a shout as he came.

She lay there, her lips and tongue still caressing him, all at once desperately thirsty but not wanting to lose the taste of him, the touch of him, the... scent of him.

She felt rather than saw G'Kar's puzzlement as she smiled, and then chuckled. "Dare I ask," he said without lifting his head from the pillow, "what could possibly be so amusing at this moment?"

She drew her lips along him one last time, which they both found quite agreeable, and she then crawled up his body to lay above him. "I have to leave."

"Yes, I know." He played with the fine hair at her temple. "They need you in C&C."

"Well, they do. Or at least, they will when it's my shift. But that's not it." She teased his lips with her own. "You said you got drunk on me. Well, I think I could do the same with you." She kissed the corner of his mouth. "And once I start drinking... I tend not to stop for a long, long time."

G'Kar simply looked at her, then gathered her against him protectively, and she let herself be protected for once, and they lay there not moving for a long while.

At last she rose from the bed. G'Kar looked to one side as she dressed unhurriedly, and stayed in the bed as she turned, an awkward expression on her face. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for helping me be alive."

"Thank you, for wanting to be alive." He pointed to the candle holder on the table. "Do not forget that."

She picked it up and held it in both hands. "And if its light was easing your pain, what will you do without it?"

"I strive for the light with every breath, Commander. But, having been there so long, I have found beauty in the dark as well."

Ivanova blinked. Then she walked over to him and hugged him tightly. Puzzled, he returned the embrace. "What did I say?"

"Something he - something Sheridan said." Susan blinked back tears. "Something that makes sense now. Oh, God, thank you, G'Kar.. Thank you."

"You are welcome."

He released her when she began to pull away, and watched as she left. Then he lay in the darkness, and found it very beautiful indeed.

.O.O.O.

"May I have your attention, please."

All hands turned to Ivanova, standing on the deck of C&C. She waited until she had all of their attention, then clasped her hands behind her back.

"There is, sadly, nothing new to report on the whereabouts of either Captain Sheridan or Mr. Garibaldi. None of us knows what's happened to them. We may never know. And the chances of them being... gone are greater with each passing day.

"I'm not yet willing to give up hope on them, and I will dedicate what resources we have to finding them and bringing them home safe. But we have so much else to do, so many people to protect and care for. We have to fill in for them. And we have to rely on each other - for strength, for friendship, for hope." She lowered her gaze. "We have to move past this, at least for now. And I don't think Captain Sheridan or Mr. Garibaldi would find it amiss if we took advantage of this blessed lull in a terrible conflict to say goodbye to them." She looked up again, trying to meet their eyes. "Just in case we don't have the chance later.

"So, rather than a formal ceremony, at this time I'd like to ask for a moment of silence, in the hope that they are well if they are alive - and to commend their souls to what lies beyond, if they are not."

For a moment, no one moved. Then one tech closed her eyes and clasped her hands in front of her, and then Corwin bowed his head and began to whisper, and one after another the staff of Command and Control said goodbye to their captain and security officer... just in case.

Ivanova bowed her head as well; and it occurred to her that, for just a moment, Sheridan's presence, his life, had brought beauty even to the darkness of Z'Ha'Dum.

Maybe there was hope after all.