December 31

The departure hall was, as always, bustling and held the atmosphere of chaos being held at bay but only just. Sheridan had steered his sister into a relatively quiet corner and they sat close together, voices a little louder than usual to make themselves heard. Elizabeth still looked too pale for his liking and he would swear that she was thinner than she had been when she had arrived. Only a few days before, he reminded himself. It seemed so long ago now. The sleeves of her shirt were pulled down, hiding the marks around her wrists but at the open neck the bruises across her throat were visible and Sheridan still felt that quick rush of anger when he saw them.

'You could stay on for a few more days, you know; until you've got all your strength back.'

She gazed at him tolerantly. 'I'm fine. For the millionth time, I'm okay. Dr Franklin gave me the all clear.'

He snorted. 'Only because you bullied him into it.'

'And you tried to bully him into keeping me in what amounted to the I.C.U.' She tilted her head to one side, raised her eyebrows and gave him a smile whose sweetness didn't fool him for a minute. 'Guess that makes us even.'

Sheridan sighed. 'Yeah, maybe. You always were stubborn.'

Elizabeth smiled. 'I learnt that from you.' She placed a hand on his arm. 'Honestly, I feel so much better. And I really do just want to get home and ... and talk to Danny face-to-face.'

He put his hand over hers. 'You two are okay, aren't you?'

'We're fine. It was all so stupid.' She shook her head. 'But that doesn't matter now.'

A small commotion attracted their attention and they watched as a stout and evidently high-born Centauri woman remonstrated with the porters who had dropped several pieces of her unending luggage. A Narn stood nearby, laughing openly, laughed harder when the irate lady turned her wrath on him. The hall security moved in smoothly and Elizabeth turned back to her brother, her lips still twitching.

'This is quite a place.'

He smiled. 'You wouldn't be the first to notice. Look, I've been thinking: I have some leave owing and I thought I could take it and fly out and see you. If you can handle me clogging up the place for a couple of weeks.'

'Really?'

'Yeah.'

He always looked so much younger when he smiled, she thought. 'Oh, that would be wonderful. Can-can you spare the time?'

'Like I said, I have the time owing. And I can't think of a way I'd sooner spend it.'

It had been so long since he had last visited her. It had been with Anna, of course. And after Anna died it had been as though he couldn't bear to be anywhere that she had or see anyone who could remind him of her. Even Elizabeth.

'How about April?' she said. 'Come in the spring - it's beautiful in the spring, you'll love it.'

Sheridan's eyes crinkled. 'April it is.'

Elizabeth looked so happy at just the thought of it. Such a simple thing; he should have done it long before now and somehow all the reasons he had had for not going no longer made much sense. He couldn't quite remember what they had been anymore. He glanced up at the departures board.

'You'll be boarding soon.'

'Yeah. You know, even with everything else, I'm so glad I got to see you. I miss you.'

'I know. I miss you, too.'

She embraced him, slim arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder; he held her gently. Elizabeth moved back, tucking her hair behind her ear; her eyes slipped past him and her face brightened.

'Oh, good.'

She stood, waved. Sheridan twisted around, looking over his shoulder, eyes raking the crowds. Delenn walked towards them, threading her way through, a soft package in her arms.

Elizabeth smiled at her. 'I didn't think I was going to get to see you again before I left.'

Delenn inclined her head. 'I did not wish to impose at this time.'

'You're not,' Elizabeth said quickly; she paused. 'You're really not. I'm glad you came.' To John, 'I sent Delenn a message asking her to come. I wanted to say good-bye.'

Delenn's gaze shifted for a moment to Sheridan and a fleeting smile passed between them; she held the package to her chest. 'Minbari do not have a word for good-bye.' She was hesitant, her smile a little uncertain. 'We have rituals for being apart but that is not the same thing. But I wished to give you this.'

Elizabeth took the soft package, pulled at one side. There was a flash of bright, embroidered silk.

'The robes are given as a sign of welcome, it is tradition,' Delenn told her. 'However, they can also be offered as a sign of friendship. I would like to think that you would consider me your friend.'

'They're beautiful; thank-you, Delenn, thank-you so much. And of course I do.' Elizabeth juggled the parcel in her arms, the slippery wrapping awkward. She stepped forward, embraced the other woman.

Delenn was still for a moment and then, tentatively, put her arms around Elizabeth, returning the embrace.

Elizabeth pulled back, brushed the hair away from her eyes. 'I'm sorry, I don't know how people greet one another in your culture.'

Delenn smiled, placed one hand over her heart and the other over Elizabeth's; she bowed her head and the blonde mimicked the motion until their foreheads almost touched.

'Flight oh-nine-four-seven to Proxima Three is now ready for boarding. Will all passengers please proceed to Gate Five.' The precise, soft voice was clearly heard in the hall. There was a collective sigh, a rush of movement as passengers collected belongings.

Delenn took a few steps back, turned to give Sheridan and his sister what little privacy was possible.

'You take care of yourself, you hear me?' Elizabeth looked at him earnestly.

'I will. And the same goes for you.'

'And April - you won't forget?'

'I won't forget.'

'Promise?'

John laughed. 'I promise. Cross my heart.' A moment. 'Say hi to Danny for me.'

She raised her eyebrows at him. 'I will.'

'And the kids. God, they must be huge by now.'

'Almost as tall as you; you'll see for yourself in-'

'April, I know. It was my idea, remember?'

'This is the boarding call for all passengers on flight oh-nine-four-seven to Proxima Three. Will all passengers please make their way to Gate Five.'

'You better go.'

'Yes.' She adjusted the bag over her shoulder, held Delenn's gift carefully in her arms. They held one another, briefly, and he walked her to the gate, watched until her slim figure was lost in the stream of passengers.

Delenn was waiting for him and he guided her through, back into the corridors leading from the hall.

'I'm glad you could meet Liz.'

'As am I. I liked her very much.'

'And she liked you.'

He had slowed his longer strides to match her shorter steps; it was a rhythm that had become familiar without either of them even noticing; they walked side-by-side with no particular destination. John glanced at her, noticed the amusement in her face.

'What?'

'Oh...' She tossed the hair away from her shoulders. 'It had occurred to me that you and Elizabeth - Liz,' she corrected herself, 'are very similar in some ways.'

He tilted his head. 'Oh?'

'Yes. You both have the tendency to blame yourselves for things far more than you should.'

His lips twitched. 'Oh, do we?'

'Yes.' Her mouth had curved, that slightly lop-sided smile she sometimes had. 'For example, the story that you told me about when you were children.'

He looked at her. 'You mean the barn?'

'Yes.'

'You asked her about that?'

'I must confess, I was very curious.' She stopped, looked up at him. 'Forgive me, should I not have done so? I did not believe that it was a confidence you wished to remain secret.'

'No, no, it's not that. It's fine.' His own curiosity was aroused. They resumed their steps. 'What did she say?'

'Her memory of that event is somewhat different to yours. As Liz told it to me, you had made her promise that she would never attempt to jump from the beam but that as soon as you had-' how was it Elizabeth had phrased it? '-had turned your back, she did it anyway.' She smiled again. 'So you see: you blame yourself, she blames herself. The truth may lie somewhere in between.'

Truth? What is that? The phrase echoed in his head. He smiled at her. 'Maybe so.' There were heavier crowds as they approached the gardens.

'It is busy this evening,' Delenn noted.

'Yes.' He watched the rushing figures for a moment. 'It's New Year's Eve; with everything else I'd forgotten about it.' Already after seven, they would be starting soon.

'New Year's Eve,' she repeated. 'That is your Festival of Rebirth for the year, yes?'

'That's a nice way of putting it. Yes, I suppose; to be honest, for most people it's an excuse for one big party. Oh, and New Year Resolutions.'

She looked at him inquisitively.

'They're the good intentions you go into the New Year with – all the promises you make to yourself about, oh, bad habits you'll give up, good ones you'll take up. That sort of thing.'

Delenn nodded. 'I understand. We do not celebrate the New Year as you do; for us it is a solemn time of reflection and a belief in hope for the future.' She hesitated. 'There is, however, a, uh ... superstition ... from before the time of Valen, which is still believed in by many, that whatever the first activity that you find yourself engaged in, which falls outside of your regular routine, will be the activity that determines your actions for the rest of the year.'

'Your people have some very lovely ideas.' Sheridan paused. 'I'm glad that I've been able to learn that.' They still walked slowly. He watched her out of the corners of his eyes, absorbed that clean, proud profile. 'It occurs to me that you've helped me to understand a lot more about the Minbari and their ways than I have you about Humans.'

She moved towards him slightly, instinctively angling away from the rush of people passing them in the other direction. 'But you have helped me to understand a great deal, especially when it comes to your language.'

That ever growing list of things and he would always explain to her so patiently.

'Uh, yes...'

There was that twitch at her lips again; she enjoyed teasing him gently, he had come to realise.

'Are you coming to the celebrations tonight?'

Her eyes widened. 'I... I had not thought. I have never attended one before. In my first year here I was on my homeworld at this time; and last year, I...' She glanced down. 'I had begun the transformation.'

'Oh,' he said softly. 'Well, in my book that's one more thing to celebrate.'

'Yes?'

'Absolutely. Celebrate you. I mean your transformation. Celebrate your transformation.' And there it was, he thought with resignation; back to that strange dislocation that occurred at times like this. But he had a feeling that his first statement had been closer to the truth. 'If that's appropriate, of course; you probably have rituals you'd want to perform.'

Ritual was so much a part of who she was, of how she understood her world; but in this... 'There are none. There is no ... precedent ... for this. But I believe that I would like to attend the celebration tonight.'

'Great.'

He looked almost relieved.

'It will be a first for both of us – I haven't seen a New Year's party here, either.'

'I will wish to change my attire for something more appropriate.'

'Yes. Of course. Uh, look, why don't I meet you at the north entrance in about an hour? Is that enough time?'

She nodded again. 'Yes, that is more than adequate. I... I will see you later.'

They parted formally, each taking a different route. An hour – it would give him the time to see to something that he had been intending to do for a while but had kept putting off. No more evasion, he decided. He would begin the New Year as he intended to go on.

ooOOoo

A standard Earth year, to the very day. Delenn had not thought of it until their conversation. So many differences now and not only in herself. She pushed the combs into her hair, pinning it into place, studied her reflection. There were times when she could not quite recall what she had looked like before; she had to think, concentrate, before she could bring to mind the image that had greeted her from the mirror each day. The changes in her face were not so very great, she had to admit; but taken as a whole the person she was now and the person she had been then, to look at, were strangers.

Her fingers wandered over her face, tracing the lines.

At times, only in her dreams, was she still what she had once been; she would raise a hand and feel under her fingers the hard ridges of a full headbone. That had been the worst loss. She had felt stripped without it: her head too light, too exposed. After such dreams, when she woke, it would be some minutes before memory would return and sometimes that memory caught her like a blow.

She applied colour to her lips, her cheeks, considered the effect.

Humans took every opportunity to celebrate, she had noticed. All occasions were marked in some way, frequently with food, music and dancing. A little like the Centauri, but lacking the frantic desperation that served as an undercurrent to all Centauri gatherings. That deep despair they distracted themselves from with the oblivion of pleasure and consequently they felt almost nothing at all.

Delenn wiped some of the stain from her mouth. Better, she thought.

It would never have occurred to her that this day, for her, was one that should be marked. Celebrated. If anything, she would have lost herself in deep meditation.

Humans, too, had some lovely ideas. The Resolution Ritual that John had described to her. It was a good idea, one that she could easily incorporate into her own beliefs.

And she was, now, partly one of them, was she not? It would make sense to adopt some of their customs. She stood, smoothed down the fabric of her dress with her hands. Good intentions for the future; yes, that was a very good idea.

ooOOoo

The trees in the gardens had been decorated with strings of tiny white lights; trellises twined with ivy and roses at the entrances; music rose above voices, laughter and the soft tinkling from the fountains. Everything had been made beautiful and the part-goers seemed to have responded to the change in atmosphere with enthusiasm. The sense of dread that had been so pervasive had lifted. For a time at least.

There would always be something new to worry over and at, Sheridan thought, but for tonight he would ignore all of those possibilities.

It was good to see everyone so happy. He hovered near the entrance, feeling a little self-conscious, eyes flicking from the darker passageway to the crowds in the gardens and back. A young Centauri woman sidled past, eyes glancing up at him from under lowered lashes and she smiled. He returned it reflexively and she ducked her head, turned and busied herself with playing with the tangle of flowers around the trellis. She stretched herself up gracefully, giving him every opportunity to admire her figure. It was a figure to be admired – long, slender, her arms rounded, her dress both concealing her body and hinting at what lay beneath. She was a lovely creature but her loveliness was entirely superficial: pretty, flashy, petty, wholly unlike-

He caught his breath. He always caught his breath when he saw Delenn.

She swayed as she walked towards him, black silk hugging her form. The same dress she had worn that night at the Fresh Air and he had thought then that he had never seen anything as beautiful as her. Never anything as desirable; and the wave of it now was so strong that he could do nothing but stand and watch her come to him.

'I had thought that this would be appropriate for the occasion,' she said when she reached him.

He moistened his lips. 'It is. You look beautiful.'

'Thank-you.'

'Shall we?' He gestured her inside and they walked into the gardens together, Delenn's head moving, absorbing the scene. One movement caught her attention - Susan Ivanova, sitting at a table with Garibaldi, waving across to them.

'They staked their claim earlier,' Sheridan said.

It looked as though most of the station had decided to join the festivities and despite the number of people the air held a lightness, something good-natured. It was not exclusively Human – there were other aliens, too, evidently curious about this night and what it meant. They moved on, the captain offering her his arm and guiding her through the crowds. Almost protectively, she thought.

They skirted the edge of the dancefloor, pausing for a moment to watch the couples rotating in time to the music.

'Ah, my dear Captain Sheridan.'

Sheridan turned, already knowing he would find Londo Mollari behind him. The great jewel on his lapel – the sign of some Order bestowed many years before – gleamed. He carried two glasses, both heavily inlaid with gold in the ornate style of his people.

Sheridan straightened. 'Ambassador.'

The Centauri smiled, turned his attention on Delenn with an air of affected surprise. 'And Delenn – forgive me, I had not realised. I saw this beautiful woman on the captain's arm and wondered who she could be. I should have known.' His smile widened, showing more of his teeth.

Delenn inclined her head; her own smile didn't reach her eyes.

Londo leant a little closer to Sheridan. 'I understand that the ... unpleasantness ... has been resolved? You sister has returned home, yes?'

'Yes, she has.' Sheridan looked him over. 'I wanted to thank you again for what you did. It... It meant a lot to us; and to me personally, of course.'

Londo looked pained; his shoulders rose slightly, dropped. 'Please, let us not speak of that. Such things do not need to be discussed between friends. It was nothing. It was my privilege to be of assistance.'

It was his most reasonable tone. And his most insincere. This benevolence would not last, Sheridan had no doubt of that but tonight he was in the mood to forgive almost anything.

'Very well, if that's how you prefer it.'

'But of course. Now, we drink – yes?'

He held one of the glasses out to Sheridan. The captain hesitated for a moment, accepted it.

'Brivari, Captain. The very best. I brought it from my own supply.' Another of those full, cold smiles. 'Only the best for my good friend.' Londo held up his glass in salute.

Sheridan felt Delenn stiffen at his side; her gaze was fixed on the glass in his hand. He checked it halfway to his mouth. Londo looked almost amused. It was an insane thought. Poison, here, now. He raised the glass.

The Brivari tasted like three drinks at once and they all burnt the back of his throat. He blinked, swallowed hard and waited until he could trust himself to speak. 'Thank-you,' he replied levelly.

Londo nodded, the stiff hair immobile as he reclaimed the glass and placed both on a table nearby. He held out his hands to Delenn.

'Now, Delenn, you will dance with me, yes? It will be a good sign for the coming year - friendship between our two great people.'

'I...' Her chin had lifted; Delenn regarded him calmly. 'As you wish.'

She allowed him to lead her to the floor, stood stiffly, one hand resting on his shoulder, the other clasped in his. They moved a little awkwardly, Londo more accustomed to this style of dance than she but neither entirely comfortable. There was more distance between them than the other couples.

'A fine fellow, our Captain Sheridan, do you not think?'

She murmured something in response.

Over the Centauri's shoulder she saw Sheridan motion to the table where Susan and Michael were waiting; she nodded, watched him pick his away through the crowds to them.

'How did Delenn land that gig?' Garibaldi asked him as he sat down, jerking his chin towards the couple on the dancefloor.

Sheridan smiled, shook his head. 'He asked. I don't know what's going on in that head of his and I'm not sure that I want to.' He glanced back, losing Delenn's figure in the midst of other bodies all moving in time. His fingers beat out the time of the music on the tabletop. Another pair captured his restless attention. Yuki Ogawa, face bright with laughter, looking up at Franklin.

'Whatever happened to doctors not fraternising with patients?'

Susan sipped her drink, eyed the pair critically and wondered if the doctor knew just what he was getting himself into. Only a matter of time, she concluded. 'Apparently it depends on which perspective you view it from.'

'Right.'

'And she's not his patient anymore,' Garibaldi added.

'Now, that is a reason that makes sense.'

The music changed, a faster tempo and Londo escorted Delenn across to their table. He bowed to them all, took his leave gravely.

Garibaldi leaned back in his chair. 'Congratulations on surviving,' he told her.

Delenn smiled. 'Ambassador Mollari is, I believe, more tiring to talk to than he is to dance with.'

He laughed. 'I'll take your word for it.'

ooOOoo

With the crowds, music and laughter, Vir could almost believe that he was back on his homeworld - although this was a far more mellow gathering than would be found on Centauri Prime. He had passed some of the time with Lennier, the young Minbari watching events with apparent dispassion. He had not remained for long and Vir had come to the conclusion that this manner of festivity was not to the taste of his more cerebral colleague. The Minbari were not an exuberant people. Ambassador Delenn, however, seemed to have more appreciation, though she had done little more than remain with the captain and his officers.

Vir wandered through the maze. There were pairs everywhere, more in evidence tonight than before: Dr Franklin and that dark, good-looking girl he had been dancing with; the captain and Delenn. They made a handsome couple he thought. Yes, there were pairs, each person finding another.

And he had...

He had Londo.

Vir reached the central space, crossed back to the ambassador's table and seated himself.

'Londo.'

The older Centauri had sunk down in his chair, his chin almost resting on his chest; he started, blinked irritably at his aide.

Vir linked his fingers together. 'I wanted to say that I enjoy working with you.'

'Great Maker.' Londo viewed him in disgust. 'I do not know if you have had too much Brivari or not enough.'

And that would be the best he could expect, Vir reflected. He poured himself a little of the Brivari.

Londo sighed. 'Why don't you go and find yourself a nice Centauri girl and ask her to dance, eh? I'm sure you have better things to do than sit here looking at me.'

Londo was impossible. Arrogant, demanding, selfish and vain. A typical Centauri of his rank and breeding. There were times when Vir dreaded entering those overly decorated quarters. But there was that fear, constantly, deep behind the ambassador's eyes. It was desperate at times. Even now, he could see it.

'I'm fine, Londo. Maybe later.'

Londo made a noise in the back of his throat, sank back down.

ooOOoo

Garibaldi played with his glass, placed it down beside his plate. Their table was littered with the remnants of supper, wilting flowers and streamers. One chair occupied by the solid, wrapped, something that Sheridan had deposited when he had arrived and not touched since. The captain had fallen victim to Susan's demands and was engaged in steering her slightly unsteady form around the floor.

Garibaldi cleared his throat. 'Ambassador-' He stopped. 'Delenn.'

She turned to him.

'I, uh, I wanted to say thank-you for everything you've done this week.'

Her head moved slightly. 'I have already said to Captain Sheridan that such thanks is not necessary. I am glad that anything I may have been able to do was of help.'

'Well, it wasn't just what you did, it was...' He shrugged. Maybe it was the directness of her gaze that brought that calm clarity to everything. 'It's good to have you on our side. Anyway, I'm grateful and I wanted you to know that.'

She smiled, accepting; she had claimed one of the fallen blossoms, turned it gently between her fingers.

'Okay, Garibaldi – your turn.'

He started, looked up. 'Uh, I don't really dance. Stephen – there's your man. He can cut a rug with the best of them.'

Susan was undeterred. 'Nuh-uh. When a lady asks you to dance, you dance.'

Sheridan, bemused, had taken his seat. 'Up you get, Michael, that's an order.' He lowered his voice, leant closer to the other man. 'She's just trampled all over my feet with her two left ones; if I had to go through it, so do you.'

Garibaldi threw down his napkin. 'You know, one day you're going to pull rank and it'll turn right around and bite you in the ass.'

Sheridan offered him a mock salute; the pair departed, Garibaldi still trailing Ivanova reluctantly. He sighed, settling himself. 'So.' He gestured with one hand, palm turned upwards. 'This is New Year's Eve.'

'It is most interesting.'

He frowned, his head tilting. 'Interesting.'

'That is not the correct word?'

'Well, it's usually what people say when they hate something and are just trying to be polite.'

She laughed a little and he watched the way colour played across her cheeks. 'I am enjoying it, if that is what you meant.'

'Yes, it is; and I'm glad.' He was silent for a moment. 'Delenn-'

A voice over the loudspeaker drowned out his words. The music stopped, the dancers were still and everyone who had been sitting stood.

'What is happening?'

'It's the countdown – ten seconds to midnight.'

'Ten... Nine... Eight...'

She stood next to him.

'Five... Four...'

The sound came in a wave, all voices joining the count.

'Two... One...'

It broke in cheering, a wave of sound that rolled around the space; strains of a song whose words were lost but that many took up; beyond the great windows a squadron of Starfuries performed a fly-past. When the lights went out the volume dropped slightly, confusion muffling the revelry. Spotlights picked out a figure high on the rails overhead. A figure, it was soon apparent, that was falling to the ground. Murmurs from the watchers, a faint cry, sharp, that was cut off.

It was picking up speed, descending towards the gardens, close enough that when that lone figure unfurled a banner the legend it bore was easily read.

Happy New Year, Babylon 5

Sound rose again: more cheers, louder than before.

Delenn watched the final descent, the jetpacks delivering the well-wisher safely to ground.

'John.'

'Hm?' He met her gaze mildly.

'You made a promise.'

'No, I didn't. And I certainly didn't make one on anyone else's behalf. I simply put forward an idea and one of the guys from Delta Squadron volunteered.'

Her lips curved. Such an impetuous race.

The music had started again. Sheridan looked across the crowds: saw Susan and Michael bickering amiably at another table they had claimed, Stephen and his Ranger wandering in the direction of the maze. He turned back to Delenn.

'Now that we have a few minutes, I, uh- Well, after our conversation earlier I remembered that there's something I've been meaning to give to you; I just never seemed to get around to it and ... and now seems like a good time.'

He retrieved the neatly wrapped parcel, held it out to her looking almost as uncomfortable as he felt.

'Oh.' She blinked at it, felt its weight in her hands. 'But I do not have anything to give to you.'

'That-' He shook his head, smiled. She liked to see him smile. 'That isn't the point. It's not much, just something that I thought you might like. Please.'

She pulled away the wrappings. It was a book, bound in leather, its pages fine, delicate almost. The writing on its cover was in faded gold; she tilted it in the light to make out the title.

'He's one of our most famous writers; a lot of people believe that everything you need to know about the human condition can be found in something that Shakespeare wrote.'

'It is beautiful.' Her hand ran over its surface, the old leather cool and smooth. 'Thank-you.'

'You're welcome.'

She opened the front cover, stopped at the inscription on the first page.

To Delenn,

With much gratitude and admiration,

John Sheridan

New Year, 2259

She looked up and he was smiling again. 'Happy New Year.'

Delenn nodded, repeating this new formula. 'Happy New Year.'

They watched each other until, slowly, he leant forward. Something Susan had told her, explained to her, only a few days ago; she could not quite remember. She closed her eyes and his lips brushed against her cheek. They had been this close before; he had held her before; but not like this. Everything slowed, blurred, and she breathed him in.

John pulled back, just enough that he could see her clearly; her face was solemn, but her eyes...

Delenn placed her book on the table carefully; he took her hand, put his other arm around her waist, drawing her to him. She rested her hand on his shoulder and they joined the rest of the couples in the shared privacy of the dancefloor.

FIN