*

Marcus Cole strode down the corridor of the small cargo ship. Rounding a corner, he slowed when he saw Susan with her nose buried behind an access panel. She didn't look very happy, he admitted, and felt a twinge of guilt for bringing her along with him. She was also muttering to herself, presumably in Russian.

He watched her, bemused, as she worked. She finished the wiring, and picked up the access panel cover. It stubbornly refused to fit back in place. She swore at the panel cover, then swore even louder, and with a great deal more colour when it suddenly slid into place, catching her finger in the process. She stuck the injured appendage in her mouth and turned, still swearing under breath. Only then did she see her audience.
"Marcus! you startled me."
"Sorry, I just came round the corner," he lied.
"Well, I got the power rerouted from engines to life support. The engines are fried, so there's no point in wasting power there. We can't move, but at least we won't suffocate or freeze to death. For a while, anyway. Comm system on line?"
"Yes, that's why I came to find you." They were now headed back to the cramped, two-seater cabin. "The comm system wasn't too badly damaged. I got it up and running, and sent a message to Babylon 5. You know it's fortunate we made it as far as we did before losing the engines. We're not actually all that far away. They'll have someone to pick us up within 6 hours."
"Great."

They reached the cabin and settled into the chairs. They fell into silence, Susan staring contemplatively out at the stars, her injured hand still jammed in her mouth.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"What?" she looked up, distractedly, "Oh, yeah, I caught my finger in that damn access panel. I'll live." She went back to her study of the stars.

Marcus went back to watching Susan. The Earth government had finally done something useful. The Narns had gotten away safely, the mission had been carried out, and here he was, alone, with the woman he loved. For six whole hours.

*

Six whole hours. Susan had been in a lot of bad situations recently, but none as potentially dangerous as six hours alone with Marcus Cole. For one thing, he was always so damn cheerful about everything. It grated on her nerves. Sometimes she could tolerate him, but most of the time he just plain irritated her. But he does make you laugh, a small voice in her head insisted. That was the other problem. The really dangerous one. The one that cropped up every time Marcus entered the room. The one that kept her mind on long dark hair, capes, and obscure accents. She pushed the "problem" back to the furthest reaches of her mind, were it belonged, and concentrated on the stars. It wasn't too difficult, but it was going to be a long time till the transport arrived from Babylon 5. Six whole hours.

*

This was getting ridiculous. She was just sitting there, staring out at the stars. This is your big chance. You're all alone with her. No Minbari crews, no Shadow vessels on the horizon, no First Ones, no life-threatenning situations, and all you're doing is watching her look at stars. Great. Way to show that debonair, Marcus Cole charm. Try to get her talking. He shifted in his chair, uncomfortably, for a few minutes, before thinking of something to say to break the silence.
"Commander?"
"Mmm, what?"
"I was just wondering, how long have you been in space?"
"Gosh, I've been living in space permanently for years and years now. Why?"
"I noticed you looking out at the stars. After all these years in space, I would have thought you'd get sick of them."
She smiled slightly before replying. "No...It's not like that at all. Not for me, anyway. Back on Earth, when I was growing up, we moved around all the time. But no matter where we were, the stars were always the same. Always something familiar to look up and see. Then later, when I left to join Earthforce, it was this big adventure, but wherever we were, I could still look at the same stars, just from a different perspective. I guess I've always looked at the stars, and thought of them shining down on St Petersburg, and on my father's grave, back on Earth. I don't think I could ever get tired of looking at them."

He was pleased with her response. He knew she didn't open up very often. That was more than he'd hoped for.
He smiled at her, and quoted, "'If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore, and preserve, for many generations the rememberance of the city of God!'"
Their eyes met and held, until Susan turned her head away, uncomfortable.
To break the silence she said, "So - so where did you get this piece of junk anyway?"
"The ship? Well, I have my sources. Of course, it had to be so run down if we wanted to come across as worn and weary traders."
"I guess so," she acceded, "But you could have at least gotten one that could hold its own in an attack. We nearly bought it back there."
"I know, but I really didn't expect any problems. It should have been a routine mission. I have no idea how Earthforce got involved. Maybe it was just bad luck. They might have been dropping into the area for their own sinister reasons, and just happened to stumble over us."
"I don't know, Marcus," Susan said doubtfully, "That explanation has a few too many "might haves" and "maybes" for my tastes. Besides, I thought you didn't believe in luck."
"No, I don't believe in good luck. Bad luck is a completely different matter," he replied with a grin.
"Now that's a rather pessimistic comment for the always sunny Marcus Cole we all know. You must be spending too much time with me!" Susan retorted.
"Oh no, I could never do do that."

He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. He saw her shift uncomfortably in her seat a she visibly retreated into herself, and the familiar mask came over her features. He searched for something to say as she turned towards the front again, and fixed her eyes on the stars before them. Bugger, we were getting on so well, too, he thought, I'll have to do something fast, or this six hours is going to be a phenomenal waste of time. Suddenly, an idea surfaced in his mind.
"Hey, I have an idea to pass the time: Why don't we work on your Minbari?" He saw her about to protest and quickly continued, "I know you're teaching yourself, and you're doing very well, but you still need to work on your conversational skills, and your accent could use some improving as well."
She hesitated, mulling it over.
"Well, alright, I guess it would be helpful..." she said half-heartedly.
"Great!" he said, all enthusiasm, "Let's start with -"

*

Two hours later, a mortified Commander Ivanova was realising just how bad her Minbari actually was. It wasn't until Marcus began talking, and correcting her, that she realised wahat a subtle language it was. An inflection of the voice could give a word a totally different meaning. She wondered briefly how many mistakes she'd already made in that respect on the white star....

Marcus was explaining something about a particular type of sentence structure. Susan wasn't listening. She was looking at him, instead. He was, she decided, handsome, but watching his face, she realised she had absolutely no idea how she felt about him. Her emotions always went haywire when he was around - irritating her and amusing her all at once. What is wrong with me? He makes one suggestive comment and I freak out. What am I, thirteem? He used to make comments like that all the time and I never phased out like that. Am I taking them more seriously now? They must be just as meaningless as they always were, so what happened? An alarming thought occurred to her. Did I freak out because I want those comments to mean something? She was brought up short of answering that particular query as she came to realise Marcus had stopped talking and was looking qizically at her. She must have been sitting there staring at him for goddness-knows-how long.
"Sorry, I must have phased out there for a while." She brought her hands up to her face and rubbed her eyes.
"Don't worry about it, that used to happen to me when I was learning Minbari too," he spoke jokingly, leaning forward slightly, but he was watching her intently.

When she lowered her hands again, she saw Marcus watching her with the strangest expression on his face. She prayed that her face hadn't given away what she was thinking about when she'd been staring at him just now. His gaze made her uncomfortable, and she looked down at her hands, noting as she did so a bruise forming from her run-in with the access panel cover. She rubbed it absent mindedly, but was startled when Marcus reached over and took up her injured hand, examining the bruise. Surprised though she was, she didn't pull away, and she tried to think of a reason why not. She looked down at the hand Marcus was still holding. The strange thing was that it was hers, and she didn't really mind. There was that "problem" again. She shoved it violently aside, and pulled her hand back.
"Stop that," she ordered, wincing as she moved her hand suddenly.
"Stop what?" he asked, then continued as though he'd just realised what she was talking about. "Why, all I was doing was holding your hand." Leaning in closer, he added, "What are you afraid of?"

Afraid? What was she afraid of? He was perfectly correct. He was only holding her hand. Where was the harm in it? Well, maybe it was that she was becoming overly aware of Marcus' eyes on her, and also of how close he was to her. Was it just her, or was it getting warmer in the cabin? She lifted her eyes to meet his. He was watching her carefully, his face close to hers. Their eyes met, and for a second they leaned closer together. Wait a minute! What was she doing? This was Marcus - that irritating ranger who always managed to annoy her with his sickenningly optimistic cheerfulness. With an effort, she wrenched her eyes from his, and pulled away, her emotions in turmoil.

Marcus watched her retreat as if in a dream state. He'd never wanted to kiss anybody so much in his life - and been about to when she had suddenly looked confused and annoyed, and sat back in her chair. No. He wasn't going to let her get away that easy. He had seen her eyes before they had clouded over, had seen the conflicting emotions revealed there. So she was in conflict? Well, they would just have to see which emotion was going to win.

Susan had turned again to the front, and was gazing out at the stars. She was aware of Marcus sizing her up out of the corner of her eyes. She didn't want to think about what had just happened. Almost, she told herself, What almost happened. What was she thinking? Maybe she did find Marcus attractive on some level, but did she want to get invoved with him?

And then Marcus was kneeling in front of her, his face at level with hers. He took her face in his hands, and turned her eyes to his.
"Susan," he said softly, "This is the only way I can think of to show you how I feel."
He almost hesitated when he saw the look in her eyes, but he knew that if he didn't do this now, he never would. Still holding her face in his hands, he leaned closer.

Susan started to speak in protest, "Marcus..." but was cut off as his lips met hers.
At first the kiss was feather soft, then his hands moved from her face to become woven in her hair, as he pressed her mouth to his.

When Susan's mind finally caught up with what her lips were so busy doing, she fought a hasty mental war. Reason winning out, she abruptly ended the kiss. Breath ragged, she stared at Marcus. Marcus stared back, his arms still wrpped around her. They were both surprised at the results of the encounter.

It was at that instant that the viewscreen flashed and lit up with the face of Captain Sheridan. He started to say something, then hesitated as he took in the scene before him. Delenn, standing next to him, had a similar look of surprise on her face.

Marcus recovered first from the stupor that had enveloped them both when the viewscreen had come to life, and speedily returned to his chair. It seemed preferable to kneeling on the floor with his arms around the Commander.
"Captain! Entil'Zha!" he exclaimed, rather loudly, "We weren't expecting anyone out this way for another couple of hours."
"Well, that's obvious enough," Captain Sheridan replied with a wry smile. "Delenn and I heard you two were stuck out here. We had a few hours on our hands, so we decided to jump in on a White Star, and make sure you didn't die of boredom," he smirked, "I see we needn't have worried about that happening, though."

Susan, in the meantime, had buried her face in one hand, and was emitting a series of barely audible moans that sounded to Marcus like, "I can't believe that just happened. I'm going to kill him. I'm really going to kill him." He gulped.
"Alright, Captain, you'll have to dock with us, because we have no manoeuvring capabilities whatsoever," Marcus supplied to cover the sound of Susan's mutterings.
He could see Sheridan fighting the urge to make a comment about "manoeuvring capabilities".
"Well, why don't we just grapple on, and take you back to B5? There's no real need for you to come on board the White Star. Besides," he just had to get in a final dig, "the trip back will give you a chance to get your story straight."

The communication ended. Marcus could almost hear the Captain laughing from where he sat on the White Star. He glanced at Susan. She had recovered her composure slightly, and was now looking at Marcus in a way that was making him, a Ranger and all-round hero, slightly nervous.
Her words were soft and accusing when she spoke. "You left the comm on recieve/visual mode."
"Ahh..." he said, realising his mistake.
Her voice now rose a fraction. "I let my guard down for a few seconds, let my emotions run away with themselves," it was a slowly building crescendo, "And look what happens. Humiliated in front of my CO. Not to mention Delenn and the entire bridge crew of the White Star. I cannot believe that happened. And, it is all your fault." Here she thrust a finger in his face. "If you hadn't left the comm on receive this never would have happened. Why in space did you do something so stupid?" She paused for breath and Marcus, seizing the opportunity, jumped in.
"Susan," he said placatingly, "Really, don't you think you're over-reacting? Just a bit?"
"Over-reacting? You think I'm over-reacting?" She stood, then continued. "You haven't seen anything yet. I don't take humiliation very well Marcus, and -" she was cut off as Marucs got to his feet so that they stood eye to eye.
"I think you're just skirting around the real topic needing to be discussed here."
Crossing her arms over her chest, she replied scathingly, "And what would that be?"
"This"

The kiss this time was more forceful. To her chagrin, Susan felt herself responding, and this time when she fought the familiar mental war, reason didn't win out. She was tired of not listening to that stupid inner voice. Later she would identify this as the defining moment in their relationship. Breifly acknowledging feelings she'd always kept hidden, she kissed Marcus back, her passion telling Marcus all that he needed to know, and confirming his hopes. She also managed to take some of her frustration out on Marcus' lips at the same time. But just as it started to get interesting, Marcus pulled away, grasping her shoulders.
"See? See? You can't deny that!" he said, breathless with emotion and conviction.
She pulled out of his grasp and sat down again. She looked away, obviously annoyed at his tone. "I don't know what you're talking about," she replied.
"My God you're stubborn! Why are you fighting this?" he all but yelled at her.
"Maybe it's because you're always so damn optimistic. Maybe it's because your accent gets on my nerves. Maybe it's because you're just so annoying that half the time I'm with you I feel like punching you! Or maybe it's because the other half of the time I want to do what we did just then." This last part was added hesitantly, as if she'd only realised it then herself.
He looked startled and reseated himself as well, not really having expected such a response, then his expression changed to one of amusement. "And is that really such a bad thing? Sometimes antagonistic relationships work out the best. It seemed to work okay just then," he grinned, referring to the kiss they'd just shared.
A look of confusion and distress crossed her features, as if some inner struggle were taking place.
"I don't know, Marcus," she pleaded, "Can't we just leave well enough alone? We were okay as freinds, weren't we?"
"Sorry, Susan, but it's not that simple." He reached over and took her hands in his. "You see, I'm in love with you. Have been for quite a while, actually. And if you think I'm irritating now, you should see me after I've been rejected. Now before you say anything, I don't care if you don't love me yet; you'll grow to love me. We were meant to be together. So you'd better get used to me, because I'm going to be around for a long time."

How the hell was she supposed to respond to that? How did she want to respond that? Did she love Marcus? Susan thought about that for a moment, and absolutely failed to come to a conclusion. What she did know, however, was that Marcus was smiling at her in a very annoying way, and after taking in the way he was smirking at her, she had a renewed urge to hit him. Hard.

*

He wished he had a vid-recorder because the look on her face was priceless. It didn't matter, he knew he'd remember that look always. It was indescribable. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then shut it again. After repeating this process, she gave up on words and sighed. The look on her face changed to one of resignation. And, after staring out at the stars and watching as the White Star opened a jump gate and took them into hyperspace, she turned back to face him.
"I still haven't forgiven you for getting me humiliated, Marcus, and if you think sweet-talking will help then you're very, very wrong. In fact, I think you'll be paying for that little mistake for quite some time."

Marcus lifted one eyebrow. Then his face took on a similar look of resignation. He guessed that making things up to the Commander was going to become a large part of his life from now on. He'd dug his grave, and now he had to lie in it. But what a grave it was!
"Alright, Commander, what can I do to make it up to you?"
"Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something," she replied, and the smile she gave him somehow managed to be sickly-sweet, alluring, and menacing, all at once.

the end

Go to the sequel, The Comfort of Closeness

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