Archive of Our Own ^beta

Part I

The Minbari ambassador was wandering the Zocalo, in the midst, yet apart from the crowds swirling around her. She was used to feeling alone. Before her transformation in the Chrysalis, before she had been Chosen of Dukhat, even as a child enamored by the prophecies of Valen;  she had always been considered a little odd by her fellow Minbari. Now she was a hybrid, a chimera, practically a species to herself, truly unique and truly alone. She shivered; sometimes she still miscalculated how much clothing was required to maintain temperature in this body. The marketplace was crowded today. Pilgrims were flooding in since a 'being of light' had been sighted in the garden, during the incident where Kosh had revealed himself in order to save Captain Sheridan's life. Of course most people did not actually ‘see’ the Vorlon ambassador; they each saw according to their own needs; as perhaps she had seen what she needed to see. Captain Sheridan's skepticism as to the Vorlons' motives had disturbed her unquestioning faith in them. Lost in thought, she moved thru the throng, jostled by all sorts of beings. Surely, she thought, the seekers couldn't completely account for the crush of people here. She recalled that it was also a human holiday season; one where people traveled far distances to visit family. That probably accounted for some of the numbers as well. Sometimes it was worse feeling alone in a crowd; other times, she could lose herself in the noise and talk, drifting along from scene to scene, overhearing bits of conversation, catching snatches of laughter; pretending she was also on her way to visit family, friends, to meet someone special.

"Season's greetings, Ambassador," broke in a cheerful and familiar voice. She started, and turning abruptly towards the voice, found herself standing very close to Captain Sheridan, her hands braced against his chest. She blushed, and immediately stepped back to a more proper distance. She could still feel the heat emanating from his body through her palms, and part of her wondered how he would have reacted if she had moved closer instead. She had begun a confused reply when a Drazi in a hurry bumped into her, propelling her into the Captain’s arms, as he instinctively reached out to keep her from falling. She leaned into him, seeking his warmth, allowing herself in a moment of weakness to close her eyes and pretend this was a real embrace. She looked up when she realized he had not let go, and in one unguarded moment, saw her own desire mirrored in his eyes. She shivered again, more from the force of her emotions than the cold. His expression changed in an instant to concern. "Are you cold, then? In this crowd?" he looked around and spied a restaurant with an open table. "How about something hot to drink, if you have time, that is. Tea? Or something more seasonal?" As he spoke he was gently leading her towards the table.

"Are there drinks peculiar to each season on Earth, Captain?" she asked.

"To some seasons, yes. This is a special holiday season for most humans, and it has many, many traditions. And with humans, traditional celebrations always involve food and drink. By the way, I thought you were going to call me John?"

"All right, John. What drinks are appropriate for this season on Earth?”

“Oh, well, let’s see what’s on the menu here….yes, they have eggnog, that’s a cold drink though, you wouldn’t want that if you need warmed up. Yes, there’s two more, mulled cider, that’s traditional for the Christmas season, and hot chocolate, that’s a winter drink, but if you add some mint flavor, it tastes like candy canes!”

Delenn laughed, “I see I have much to learn about these traditions! What does ‘mulled’ mean? What is ‘cider’? And what is signified by an cane made of candy?”

John beamed at her laughing face. She had looked so lost when he first spied her across the marketplace. “Mulled means heated with spices, cinnamon and nutmeg. Cider is the juice of apples, an Earth fruit. And candy canes are striped poles of sugar flavored with peppermint. I know, let’s get one of each, so we can trade and taste both!”

He ordered the drinks, and he attempted to describe the taste of chocolate as she laughed delightedly. It was like describing the moon to a blind person, he decided. Impossible! Still, when the drink arrived, crowned with a froth of whipped cream and dusted with cinnamon, she almost cooed in anticipation. He drank his cider with satisfaction as she delicately sipped at the cocoa. He had to laugh when she finally took a gulp  and emerged with a creamy mustache. He reached across the table and gently wiped the froth from her upper lip with his thumb. He stared intently at her full red lips as he sucked the cream from his thumb, imagining what it would feel like to use his tongue to clean her lips, wondering if her mouth would taste of mint and chocolate or some exotic flavor peculiar to herself. Her lips were parted as she stared in seeming fascination at him, her lovely green eyes wide, her breathing quick and shallow….surely that meant….

“Hello, Captain, Ambassador! Enjoying the Christmas decorations?” Stephen Franklin pulled up a chair and sat down at their table. He seemed blissfully unaware of the charged atmosphere between the Ambassador and the Captain. He waved over the waiter and ordered some cider for himself. “I just love this time of year, don’t you, Captain? The food, the music, the entire thing!”

Delenn recovered herself quickly and replied, “Dr. Franklin, it is so nice of you to join us! I am just beginning to realize how many traditions are associated with this season. Do you have a favorite?”

“Definitely the music,” replied Stephen, as he offered the waiter his identicard to pay for his drink. “Carols, choral music, popular songs; all of it. It sets the mood for the whole season! Some of the traditional music is hundreds of years old. I think ‘Silent Night’ is probably my favorite. Do you know that one, Captain?”

“It is one of my mother’s favorites,” replied Sheridan, and he softly began to sing. Stephen joined in, while Delenn listened bemused. She was still struggling with her emotional and physical response to the Captain; or“John”she thought to herself, not understanding the feelings the use of his name engendered in her. The music was soothing, like a Minbari sleep-song, and Stephen’s clear tenor and John’s husky baritone were well suited to the simple melody. When they finished, she smiled, bowed her head slightly, and thanked them both for their impromptu performance. Both men looked a little embarrassed at her praise.

“By the way, Stephen, Delenn,” saidSheridan, “I’ve been thinking about having a small holiday party. In my quarters. Just a few people, Susan, Michael….Lennier is welcome as well, Delenn, if you think he’d enjoy it.”

“I am sure he would appreciate the invitation. He is always interested in learning of new traditions. When were you thinking?” replied Delenn.

“Let’s say, a week from today. 8 o’clock?”

“Sounds good, Captain. I’ll bring the eggnog. My father’s recipe is famous throughout Earthforce. But don’t worry, Ambassador, I’ll make in non-alcoholic this time,” replied Stephen.

“What should I bring, then, John? Is it usual for the guests to provide refreshment at these parties? I know very little of this holiday—I have heard it called Christmas, Solstice, even something like Han-u-ka?” queried Delenn.

“This season has a long and complex history on Earth.  Christmas and Hanukkah are religious holidays, the first celebrating the birth of a holy man called Jesus, the second a miracle of lights for those of the Jewish faith. Many people on Earth celebrate the Winter Solstice; the shortest day of the year. After the Solstice, the days began to lengthen. All these holidays occur around the same time of year, and so there is plenty of excuse for plenty of parties!” explained Stephen.

Delenn looked confused at this litany of occasions, and asked again, “Well, what foods are traditional for these various holidays?”

The two men started in at once, in counterpoint:

“Roast turkey!”

“Glazed ham!”

“Christmas cookies!”

“Plum pudding!”

“Wassail!”

“Fruitcake!”

“Gingerbread!”

“Mince pies!”

“Roast beef with Yorkshire pudding!”

“Cranberries!”

“Chocolate covered cherries!”

Stephen stopped short at that one. “Chocolate covered cherries? How are those a Christmas tradition?”

John answered a bit sheepishly, “Well, they were my mother’s favorite candy, so we always had them at Christmas. Often one of us kids would buy her a box as a Christmas gift…sometimes she would get two or three boxes! There was always an open box when people came visiting over the holidays. It wouldn’t have been Christmas without them. I haven’t had any in years though, they’re hard to get out here.”

Stephen’s link beeped loudly. He silenced it and sighed, “I’ve got to get back to MedLab. You two have fun planning the party. I’ll see you there! Captain, Ambassador.” He stood and nodded farewell to each of them in turn.

John smiled at the look on Delenn’s face. He knew how she valued traditions, and that she showed honor to others by respecting their rituals. Their list must have sounded like gibberish to her.

Delenn looked back at John with growing trepidation. This was obviously a major holiday, and she wished to show her appreciation for being asked to participate. But she hadn’t recognized most of the foods on the list, and she knew her limitations when it came to exotic cooking.

John sobered as he realized the extent of her apprehension, and said soothingly, “We won’t be having a full Christmas dinner, just appetizers, drinks, and some sweets. You don’t have to worry, what I really want you to bring is yourself. That would be enough of a gift for me.” He  reached over and took her hand, holding it lightly in his own. “It’s traditional to give gifts at Christmas time. Is there anything special you would like?”  He gazed at her intently, willing her to answer in the way he wanted.

Delenn looked down at her hand in his, uncertain how to respond. Then, she looked up into his face, once again losing herself in his eyes. She licked her lips, then turned her hand over until their palms met. Gently stroking the inside of his wrist with the tips of her fingers, she whispered, as if to herself, “Palm to palm is holy palmer’s kiss…”

“Hello there, people! Enjoying the crowds?” Michael Garibaldi was unusually boisterous; he didn’t notice the thunderclouds in Captain Sheridan’s face as he pulled up a chair. “I ran into Stephen in the corridor. He said you’re having a Christmas party! Great idea, we could use some diversion…” his voice faltered as he observed Delenn’s reddened cheeks, the Captain’s black expression, and the fact that the two were essentially holding hands--in public. He cleared his throat, and hurriedly said, “Goodness, look at the time. I’ll bring the panettone, Captain, alright? See you later, Delenn.” He stood abruptly, turned, stumbled over a chair, and then left as quickly as he had come.

“So, what is panettone, John?” asked Delenn, in a slightly shaken voice. She attempted to retrieve her hand, but John gripped it tightly.

“It’s a kind of Italian Christmas cake, I believe,” his voice lowered so only she could hear. “What were you saying just then?”

“I have been reading Earth literature recently, and have been going through what are considered your ‘classics’. That line was from a poet, I believe, similar to our tee’la singers. What was his name…Shakespeare, I think?” her voice had almost returned to normal, but her cheeks were still flushed. She tried again to remove her hand from his grasp.

“You said something about a kiss, didn’t you?” 

She had to lean closer to him to hear his question; his voice was very soft, and slightly husky. Her body responded to the tone of his voice, while her mind tried futilely to respond to the question, “I was just quoting a poem, I mean a play…the words just came into my head, I didn’t mean to imply..” her voice trailed off as she realized what he thought she had meant--what she had meant. She knew what he was planning to do was unwise. They were in a public place, and nothing either of them did went unnoticed. But part of her didn’t care. He had ignited a fire within her, and all she could think of was his touch on her hand, his body so close to hers, his mouth coming closer…

A comlink chirruped suddenly. “Captain?” queried Commander Ivanova, “You’re needed in C&C.”

“Damn it,” muttered John under his breath. Into the link, he replied, “I’ll be right there, Sheridan out.” He reluctantly let go of Delenn’s hand. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“I understand,” replied Delenn. “I had best be going as well. I had only meant to be away a little while. I enjoyed our time together, John, and I am looking forward to the party. Thank you for the chocolate.” She stood, and gave a slight bow.  John looked so dejected, she impulsively leaned over to whisper one more thing, “Perhaps I can ask for my gift at another time?”

He brightened immediately, and smiled his assent. He sat a moment longer, watching her walk away, and wondering when he could expect to see her again. As he stood to leave, he decided that, as with all Christmas gifts, the anticipation might be as pleasurable as the gift.

Part II

That evening, Delenn sat in her quarters, awaiting Lennier’s arrival before starting their evening meal. It had been a busy afternoon, but she had managed at one point to tell him of their invitation to the Christmas party the following week, and to request that he see if the Captain’s favored confectionery was available on-station, or from one of the nearer transit-place markets.  She had decided that surprising him with a gift of the chocolates would be appropriate. She had spent the last half hour exploring the human’s various holiday traditions on EarthNet, and trying not to think about the implications of what had happened between them that morning. The door chimed, and as she commanded “Open,” Lennier entered, carrying a folder of paperwork in one hand and a container with their food in the other.

“Greetings, Delenn,” said Lennier. “I brought the trade agreements you wished to go over before tomorrow’s meeting. Have you been very busy this evening?”

“I have been researching Christmas traditions. There are so many aspects to this holiday; it celebrates both faith and family, and involves both revelry and reverence. There is a large portion devoted to gift-giving. To some, it is particularly a holiday for small children. To others, it is a celebration of the defeat of darkness by the forces of light. It is very confusing.”

Lennier listened intently, “It seems that the intent is to allow many to participate, and none to be excluded. A noble goal, but does it not dilute the meaning of the traditions if they are altered to accommodate others?”

“I do not think so. Each group seems to remain distinct, sharing what they have in common, and enjoying what is different.”

Lennier had set out the plates and other items for the evening meal. “I could not find the candy you requested, Delenn. Not on the station, or at any nearby market.”

“Oh well, it was just an idea. I must think of something else to bring. It seems to be tradition to bring a host-gift to parties such as these.” Delenn’s voice was a little disappointed.

“I did, however, think of another option,” continued Lennier. “I looked up the recipe for these candies. It does not seem too difficult, and the ingredients are ones I believe would be procurable on the station.”

Delenn looked doubtful. “I do not mean to doubt your culinary abilities, Lennier, but are you sure we can do this?”

“I thought, with your approval, I would approach Mr. Garibaldi for assistance and advice. He is quite accomplished in cooking, or such is his reputation. He could certainly help with finding the ingredients.”

“All right, you may ask. I would really like to do this for the Captain; he is far from home, and this holiday seems to mean a great deal to him. Let me know what Mr. Garibaldi says.”

                        ********************************************

Michael Garibaldi stared at the deferential Minbari standing in his quarters. “You want to do what for Captain Sheridan?” he finally asked in disbelief.

“Ambassador Delenn would like to provide some refreshment for the Captain’s Christmas party. He had mentioned a liking for this particular sweet, and as it seems to be unavailable, I had thought we might try making some. The ingredients seemed fairly common to me, except for the type of fruit. What exactly is a maraschino?” answered Lennier seriously.

Garibaldi looked at the list Lennier had given him. He was right, most of these things could be found on station, fairly easily, even the maraschino cherries. The local bars had stocks of those, not that he expected Lennier would know that. Still, candy-making was not cooking, and not something he had ever tried. “I can get you this stuff, and even try to help, but I can’t guarantee how it’ll turn out. I’m no expert.”

“Well,” replied Lennier, “I think it will be…fun. And Delenn is certain it would please the Captain. I do not see that it would hurt to try.”

Garibaldi agreed that he would gather everything together, and Lennier would let him know what evening would be best for the experiment. They agreed to meet in Garibaldi’s quarters, as he had the more extensive collection of cooking utensils and equipment. He reminded Lennier that the candy had to ‘set’ for 24 hours so they didn’t have much time to waste. After Lennier had left, he wondered if he should explain to Delenn the possible interpretation of a gift of candy to a person of the opposite sex-- and homemade at that! Then he remembered the scene he had interrupted in the Zocalo and smiled to himself. He wouldn’t explain; he’d let the situation unfold without any interference. Maybe he was becoming a romantic in his old age. He briefly considered whether he should let Susan in on what was happening. He grinned; it would be more fun to watch her reaction cold. It was shaping up to be a most interesting party.

                        **************************************************

Lennier and Delenn were outside the door to Michael Garibaldi’s quarters. They were not exactly arguing, but it was there was obviously some disagreement between them.

“I don’t know, Lennier,” said Delenn. “I am beginning to wonder if this was a good idea. Something about it makes me uneasy.”

“What could be wrong? We are simply enlisting the help of a friend in a project to do something for the Captain. It is very straightforward.” Lennier honestly couldn’t understand her reluctance. It was as if she attached some special significance to their actions that he could not comprehend.

Delenn wasn’t sure herself why she felt so uncomfortable. Unless it was related to the nervous anticipation she always felt when she thought about Captain Sheridan. The party was only two days away, and she had no other gift purchased or planned. She sighed, and said, “You are right. Let us at least make the attempt.”

Michael met them at the door. “I’ve got all the stuff together. We only need to mix up the fondant and melt the chocolate. Let’s get started!” He led them over to the kitchen area of his quarters. The ingredients were measured out, and laid on the counter. Lennier picked up the recipe and asked if he could start making the fondant. Michael was engaged in breaking up the chocolate in a small bowl and replied, “Sure.”

Delenn stood aside and watched as the two men went to work. Lennier consulted Michael at each step, but he didn’t seem to actually need much assistance. Her mind was drifting, back towards examining her own feelings for the object of their efforts. She hadn’t seen much of John since their encounter in the Zocalo, and while that was hardly unusual, given their busy schedules, she found herself wondering if he had regretted the intimate turn their conversation had taken. Her reverie was interrupted by Michael saying, “Delenn? Delenn, are you ready to try this out?”

She nodded and approached the counter, where Michael had laid out maraschino cherries in bowls, the fondant mixture Lennier had made, the melted chocolate, and trays lined with waxed paper. Taking her hand, he placed a cherry in it, then told her to mold the fondant paste around the cherry. The mixture was stiff, but softened in the heat of her hands as she wrapped it around the small stemmed fruit.

“Now, hold the cherry by the stem, and dip it in the chocolate. Turn it around so it’s completely covered….that’s right. Now let the excess drip back into the bowl, and put the candy on the paper,” instructed Michael.

Delenn was flushed with triumph as she gently laid her maiden effort on the paper. “This is not so hard. But they will be very irregular will they not? Not as attractive as those we might have purchased.”

“Ah, but that’s the beauty of something homemade. The imperfections showcase the care put into the gift. You’ll see, the Captain will be very impressed with this.” Michael watched Delenn closely for her reaction to his statement. Sure enough, a delicate flush appeared on her cheeks. He wasn’t sure how much teasing the Minbari could take, so he didn’t push it.

They all three took turns trying the procedure, and finally settled on an assembly line type process to speed things up. The tray finally went into the cooler to set, and Michael gestured towards the couch. “Let’s take a break. I can clean this up later.”

Michael brought over some drinks, juice and water, and they discussed the party, and Michael told them tales of Christmases in his past, some humorous and some sentimental. Lennier arranged a time to pick up the candies the next day, the day before the party. They were all tired, and decided soon to call it a night.

Part III

Delenn was alone in her quarters the afternoon of the party. She was trying on a new dress she had purchased for the occasion. It was green velvet, fitted on the top, with a swirling skirt below the waist. Lennier had placed the chocolates they had made in a simple white box, adorned with a gold bow he had found in a shop in the Zocalo selling Christmas gift wrapping items. She still felt uneasy about the gift, and couldn’t escape the feeling it was too personal, and might embarrass the Captain. Still, she couldn’t exactly change her mind now; both Lennier and Michael were involved, and Lennier especially would be disappointed considering all the work he had put into the offering. If only she could present the gift in private; then if the situation was awkward, it would reflect only upon herself. Impulsively, she requested a link to the Captain’s quarters, to see if he was there. When he answered, she asked if she might stop by. He agreed, and she picked up the box and hastened to the section of the station where the command staff had their quarters.

As she approached the Captain’s quarters, she became more apprehensive. She remembered when she had gone there to tell him of her decision to go into the isolation zone with the dying Markab. John had seemed distraught at her choice, and for a moment, she had believed he was worried for her safety. Touched by his concern, she had reached up to touch his face. Even the simplest contact between them went through her like an electric shock. She was never sure what that meant, except that it was both pleasing and disturbing. Later, in that horrible chamber, with dying Markab all around her, she had wondered how much of his concern had been how he would explain the death of the Minbari ambassador. Then, afterwards, when he held her so tenderly as she broke down in tears, she was sure again of his affection. She sighed; their whole relationship was like wandering through a dense fog, the kind that filled the mountain valleys in early winter on Minbar--moments of blinding clarity as the sun broke through, followed by the return of the deepening mist. She was uncertain at times whether they even had a personal relationship. It was all tangled up with the prophecies, the wars, the secrets she had to keep…how was she to distinguish the personal from the political? And yet, there was something between them. She had felt a jolt of recognition, deep in her soul, when she had first seen him in the council chamber. She couldn’t be wrong about that— not about her own feelings at least. If John had been Minbari, there would be a path laid down for them to follow; to assess their feelings, and to test them, before any commitment was made. Humans had a dizzying variety of courtship rituals, and she wasn’t even sure he was thinking of her that way!

John was waiting impatiently for Delenn to arrive. He wasn’t sure what she wanted, but was hopeful they could continue the conversation they had begun in the Zocalo. There were only a few hours left before the party, and he had finished his minimal decorating. The food that wasn’t being provided by the guests was arriving from the Fresh Aire restaurant about half an hour before the party was due to commence. He’d managed to obtain a small Christmas tree, and some lights, which he had strung on the branches. He’d left the decorations in the boxes, suspecting Lennier and Delenn would enjoy the ritual tree-trimming. The mistletoe was hung discreetly in the corner; he hoped he’d have occasion to make use of it tonight. Maybe he should check and see if she was coming down the corridor. He felt like a kid waiting on the corner hoping that cute cadet would walk by. He opened the door, to see Delenn waiting just outside. She took his breath away, standing there in a clinging green dress that looked soft and shimmery in the half-lit corridor. She was holding a white box topped with a gold bow, and looked very unsure to his eyes.

“Hi there,” he said. “Come on in, tell me what you think of the decorations….I didn’t have a chance to do much.”

She hesitated at the doorway, then entered with a swirl of her skirt. Her every movement was alluring. He swallowed hard, and followed her inside. “I’m glad you came by, but I’m not sure why, since the party is in a few hours. Was there something you wanted?”

She looked at him with an odd expression, then extended the box towards him, “This is our contribution to your party. That is, Lennier’s and mine. And Mr. Garibaldi helped us as well.”

He took the box from her and opened it. At first he was confused by what was obviously a box of homemade candy, then he spied the cherry stems sticking out of each piece. “You got me chocolate covered cherries? Did you make these, Delenn?” He was deeply touched by her remembering his story, and going to such an effort to obtain the sweets.

She blushed deeply. “I tried to purchase them, but they are indeed hard to find. Lennier suggested that we try making them, and Michael was of great assistance both in procuring the ingredients, and helping us with the assembly. It wasn’t really very hard.”

“But why bring them by now? Why not wait until the party tonight?”

“I…something Michael said made me think that a gift such as this might be considered…well, it might imply something..” her voice trailed off in confusion.

He said somewhat sadly, “You didn’t want me to misconstrue this as more than a friendly offering in the spirit of the season, is that it?”

She hesitated again, “I did not want to embarrass you by our gift. It is a friendly offering, from Lennier, and from Michael.”

“And from you,” he said softly, setting the box down on the counter and moving closer to her, “What does it mean to you?”

She stared at him mutely, wanting to confess all her confusion and desire, but unable to find the correct words. He sighed in frustration, “We come from completely different cultures, Delenn. You will have to use words with me. I want to think you mean one thing, but I could be so very wrong. If it helps, I would like it to be more than a friendly offering. At least on your part.” He stared at her hopefully, taking her ice-cold hands gently within his own.

Delenn looked deep into John’s eyes, and reached a decision. He was right, their cultures were different, and if their relationship was to progress, if it was meant to progress, they would have to make a leap of faith. She smiled faintly, hopefully, and carefully removed one hand from his grasp, and reached up to gently caress his face, tracing his lips with her fingers. “It is more than friendship with me, John, although I am uncertain what it is exactly. I do not know if I have the words, but perhaps I can borrow some from your Shakespeare. If ‘palm to palm is holy palmer’s kiss,  have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” She reached up, and ran her hand through his hair, pulling him gently down towards her upturned face, “Let lips do what hands do, lest faith turn to despair..”

He sighed deeply as their lips finally touched. Her mouth was warm, and her soft breath felt like a caress. It was everything he had hoped for, and more. He pressed her close, and deepened his kiss until he finally had to come up for breath. She clung to him as if she was off balance. He didn’t feel very steady himself. “Let’s sit down, Delenn. I think we need to stop for a minute.”

She looked at him with a smile in her eyes, “I do not agree, but we can certainly continue this activity while sitting.”

He pulled her towards the couch, and wondered at the seeming reversal in their roles. Now she was pulling ahead, and he was holding back! “Uh, as much as I would like to continue, I need to ask you something…”

“And what would that be? Would you like the recipe for the chocolates? You haven’t tried them yet; they may not be very good. Although Mr. Garibaldi said they tasted similar to his memory of them.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’m not very good at this...”

“On the contrary. Even though I have a very small basis for comparison, I think you are very good at this.”

“That’s not what I meant! Look, Delenn, we’re crossing a threshold here, moving into a different kind of relationship. I want you to understand how I feel about you, “ he paused and frowned slightly, “Of course, this would be easier if I understood how I feel about you.”

Her smile wavered a bit, then she said, “Well, perhaps it would help if I started the discussion. When I first saw you I felt I had known you before, and for a very long time. That feeling has only gotten stronger as we have worked more closely together. And I very much enjoy being this close to you, alone, and without interruption.”

As she spoke she leaned into him, her body warm and pliant against his, and he felt that breathing had suddenly become quite difficult. “I…quite enjoy this too,” he said as he tilted her head up to face his, and gently moved her hair away from her eyes. As he did, his fingers touched the crest of bone, and he paused, distracted by the feel of it. She pulled away immediately. He could feel the difference in her posture as she stiffened. “What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching out for her.

“For a moment I had forgotten who I am, what I am,” she said with a slight touch of bitterness in her voice. “When I am with you, I feel almost like a normal woman…”

“There is nothing normal about you, Delenn,” he interjected, as he gathered her up in his arms. “You are the most beautiful, exotic, mysterious, wise, compassionate…” he broke off to kiss her again. He caressed her bone crest, and said, “This is part of who you are, and it is beautiful too.” As he moved his fingers along the top edge, then down to where the bone joined her skull, she moaned softly. He smiled, “Does that feel nice, then?” She nodded vigorously, then turned towards him, till she was almost sitting on his lap. He continued to kiss her, sliding his tongue between her teeth, probing deeper until it felt like they were melting together. Now it was his turn to moan as she shifted on his lap, her thigh rubbing against his increasingly obvious erection. His hands roamed over her body, the thin soft velvet not leaving much to his imagination. Still, he longed to feel her bare skin under his hands, and wondered whether he dared lower the zipper on her dress. He started as her fingers undid the buttons on his shirt one by one, and her hands slipped under the fabric to caress his bare chest. Smiling to himself, he reached for the fastener and slid it quietly down, exposing her back to the air, and to his eager touch.

Just as he was contemplating suggesting a move to the bedroom, the door chime sounded. They looked at each other, startled, with identical guilty expressions on their faces.

“Who is it?” growled John aloud, and “Don’t move!” he whispered urgently under his breath, as his hands slid lower to hold her tightly against him.

“It’s Susan,” said a voice through the comsystem, “I came by to help you get ready for the party…you know, the one that’s here in less than an hour?”

John cursed under his breath. “Give me a minute,” he called out. Delenn had pressed her face against his shoulder and she was shaking. He pushed her gently back, afraid she was upset at the possibility of being discovered. To his surprise, she was silently laughing.

“I cannot help it, John. This is such an absurd situation! We sneak around like love-smitten acolytes inTemple…constantly being interrupted by our tutors!” She dissolved in quiet mirth.

He smiled, then began to laugh as well. “Captain?” came thru the comsystem, “Is anything wrong?”

“Get into the bedroom and pull yourself together, Ambassador,” he whispered, still struggling to regain his composure. “We’re not out of the woods yet!” To the door, he said, “Just a minute, Susan! I was changing, let me finish!”

He did up his shirt hastily and tucked it back into his trousers. His mind raced to find an explanation for Delenn’s presence, not only in his quarters, but in his bedroom. Luckily the shock had ‘brought him down to Earth’ and he could stand without discomfort or embarassment. “Open,” he said, and the door slid back to see a slightly suspicious Ivanova, laden with packages and bags.

“I thought you might want some more decorations,” she said as he helped her put down her load. “I don’t have a lot of Christmas stuff myself, of course, but I borrowed some lights and the guys in hydroponics gave me some greenery left over from pruning. I thought we could do something with it. I knew you had a tree and some decorations, but I brought some candles, and the mess donated some red tablecloths…” her voice went on as she unpacked her offerings, and he began to despair of getting her out of there to let Delenn escape without being seen.

“John?” a voice floated out of his bedroom, “Could you help me with something?” Susan swung around and stared, first at the closed doors of the inner room, then back around at the Captain.

“Certainly,” he said abruptly in reply, “Would you excuse me a moment, Commander?” He hastened into the room, pulling the frosted glass doors shut behind him. “What are you doing? Do you want her to know you’re here?” he asked somewhat fiercely, although his rising temper was short-circuited by the sight of her standing there, with her still unfastened dress clutched loosely to her chest. He gulped, his shirt collar suddenly seeming very tight, “Is there a problem?”

“The zipper seems to be stuck,” her voice was amused, and unconcerned. “I hope you can help me with that problem. And John, there is no other way out of here. She will see me unless you order her to leave, and I do not believe that will allay her suspicions. Are you ashamed to be seen with me, then?”

“Of course not,” he whispered, as he gently unstuck the fastener and slid it gently closed. “But you know the possible ramifications,  how it would look…” he didn’t finish, but looked at her sadly, then leaned over to kiss her, hoping to take the sting out of his words. “It’s not about what I want, or what you want, but what would be best.”

“If our relationship is meant to be, it will be. And Susan will do or say nothing that would endanger the station, or you. Let us go out. We have done nothing wrong, and there is a middle ground between denying our feelings, and announcing them. Especially since we aren’t even certain what those feelings are yet!”

He started to protest, but she sailed through the doorway, and greeted a flabbergasted Susan with affection, warmth, and no explanation whatsoever. He had to smile at her gentle boldness, and decided he could do nothing better than follow her lead. Soon both women were directing him in attempts to string lights outlining the doorways and windows, while they arranged greenery around candles for centerpieces on the breakfast bar and the low table in front of the couch. The door chimed; it was the restaurant delivering the food and drink, along with two folding tables. They quickly set up tables, cloths, warming trays, drinks, plates and cups, and just as quickly left after announcing they would return in the morning to pack up everything that was left.

Part IV

Susan excused herself, and went in to the bathroom to finish getting ready for the party. She had arrived in a stunning dark blue satin dress, but needed to put up her hair and check her make-up. She also wanted some privacy to think about what she had just seen, and what it might mean. It was just possible that Delenn had arrived early for some reason other than the party, and had just stepped into the bedroom to freshen up, or use the bathroom, when she arrived. The Captain’s initial uneasiness seemed to belie that innocent explanation, but then again, he might have been embarrassed by the appearance of impropriety. She caught herself—what if they had been together, alone, in his quarters? They were both adults, free of other attachments as far as she knew…aside from the political repercussions, and the whole interspecies thing, which was totally weird--- what would be the harm? As she mulled it over, she began to think it might be all in her imagination. But if it wasn’t, she would have to protect the Captain, if necessary, from himself. There were certainly elements on Earth that would have a field day with a relationship like this. It would also endanger the station’s mission as a neutral meeting place—Sheridan represented Earth, and couldn’t be seen to be favoring one race over another. She decided she would keep watch, and see how things developed. No use creating a crisis when there wasn’t one yet; it wasn’t like there was a shortage of crises on this assignment!

Delenn was adjusting the lights hung over the table in the corner, standing on a chair to reach the strand over the windowframe. John came up behind her, and said, “Do you need some help getting down?” As he spoke he reached up, and grasping her by the waist, lifted her down and into his arms. He grinned widely as he gestured with his chin to some green leaves hanging from the ceiling above them. “That’s mistletoe, Delenn. Do you know the tradition associated with mistletoe?’

She smiled up into his eager face, and replied, “No, I am unaware of the meaning behind hanging plants from the ceiling. What does it signify?”

“Oh,” he replied, “It involves a ritual. When a couple stands beneath the mistletoe, they are obliged to exchange a kiss.” He smiled disarmingly, “You wouldn’t ask me to forego a human tradition, would you?”

“Of course not. We Minbari value tradition and ritual, as you know,” and as she said it,  she leaned into him, lifting her face towards his.

As their lips met, Susan slid open the doors of the inner room. She inhaled sharply, then ducked back into the bedroom, her heart accelerating at her near interruption of what was obviously not a casual embrace. She muttered under her breath, “I guess things have developed further than I thought. Now what am I going to do?”

The door chime rang, she heard John say “Open,” and decided it would be safe to emerge. John was greeting Stephen Franklin, and taking a container of eggnog from him to store in the cooler until the rest of the guests arrived. Michael Garibaldi arrived soon after, with a wink and a smile for Susan, which confused her no end. Lennier came last, and after greeting the Captain first, as host, turned to Delenn, with obvious questions in his eyes. Susan sighed and thought to herself it would be a miracle if the Captain and Delenn could keep their relationship to themselves tonight.

Still, they seemed to manage. The tree was trimmed, carols were sung, toasts were drunk, and the many appetizers were sampled with approval. The candy was passed around, and Michael and Lennier took the bows for their efforts. The Captain and Delenn were never alone together, but never far apart, and seemed to find this completely comfortable. As the rest settled onto the couch and chairs to enjoy eggnog and panettone, Michael pulled Susan aside.

“So, how long were you here this afternoon?” he asked. “And when did Delenn get here?”

Susan answered him coolly, “She was here when I arrived. I guess we had the same idea, to help with the preparations. The Captain is not known as being socially adept, you know.”

“Did you happen to notice anything between them?” At Susan’s look, he back-tracked,

“I mean, do you suppose he asked her to help, or did she volunteer?”

“I couldn’t say, Garibaldi. And it wouldn’t be my place to ask.”

Michael was growing frustrated. He had anticipated an evening of undercurrents and possible revelations, and it seemed it wasn’t going to happen. He couldn’t push it too hard, without arousing the Captain’s wrath, but he hadn’t expected them to behave so…well, so normally around each other. Not after what he had witnessed in the Zocalo!

And Susan wasn’t playing along with him, either. That was interesting, now he thought about it. She was usually the first to play along with one of his gags, as long as the joke wasn’t on her, but she was acting, well, protective might be the word. Suddenly a light dawned on him. She had seen something, or knew something she wasn’t telling. He decided to change tactics.

“You know, I ran into the Captain and Delenn last week in the Zocalo. It occurred to me that I’ve seen them together a lot lately. Do you suppose there’s anything to the rumors?”

Susan looked at him sharply, “What rumors? And why are you listening to rumors?”

He shrugged, “It’s part of my job to listen to rumors. All part of the service-- information-gathering, intelligence, you know.”

“What rumors?” she repeated intensely, suddenly worried.

“Rumors about the Captain and the Ambassador. That there’s something between them, something….personal.”

“That’s impossible, Garibaldi! I would know, and you would know, if there was something going on!” She was fuming now. “You should make it your business to stop this speculation now! What kind of security chief are you to allow this kind of loose talk---endangering the mission of this station..”

He interrupted her, “Easy, Susan, easy. There haven’t been any rumors. But you’ve just confirmed what I suspected. There is something going on, isn’t there?”

She looked at him with grudging respect, “You bastard. You sucked me right into that, didn’t you? Yes, I think there may be something. Early stages yet, but potentially a bombshell, don’t you think?”

“Guess so. Too much to ask that they could be allowed a private life without it affecting the whole damn universe, isn’t it?”

Susan nodded, as she looked over at her Captain, her friend, sitting closely, but not too closely, to the Minbari ambassador. “We’ll make it our business to let them have some space, Michael. They both deserve a chance at happiness. Sometimes the personal should outweigh the political.”

Michael nodded, and took Susan’s arm to steer her back to the party. John and Delenn didn’t know it, but this Christmas the Universe had assigned them some very atypical guardian angels.