From jennyann@ix.netcom.com Sat Jun 15 14:25:00 1996 Date: Thu, 13 Jun 1996 16:15:05 -0700 From: Jennifer Lyon Reply-To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com Subject: NEW: "Conciliation" Part One Hi! Here's part one of a first season romance story I recently sent out a longer version of to the unresricted list. I think there's enough story here without the Nc17 stuff. Part two will follow. Thanks -Jenny ------------------------------------------------- "Conciliation" A Babylon 5 FanFiction Story by Jennifer Lyon jennyann@ix.netcom.com He was exhausted. Commander Jeffrey Sinclair stared at the teapot in his hand, then set it down with a clank on the unactivated hotplate. He didn't have enough energy left to boil water. Wandering into the middle of his living room, his eyes fell on the now-silent vid-screen. After two days of working around the clock to try to keep his station from erupting into bloodshed, Senator Hidoshi's warning had been the last thing he needed. Drawing in a deep breath, he tore his communicator patch from the back of his hand, tossed it onto the kitchen counter and dropped himself onto his couch. Unfastening his uniform jacket, he shrugged it off his shoulders. Slipping from suddenly clumsy fingers, it tumbled to the floor. A naturally meticulous person, he felt, and then deliberately ignored, the impulse to lean over and pick it up. His entire body hurt, the muscles in his neck and shoulders were screaming from the accumulated stress. *Damn them all,* he cursed angrily, silently, *damn those idiots back on earth, that arrogant ass Zantos, and even Nioma Connolly and her dockworkers.* No one had listened to him, no one, until it was almost too late. Everyone had been so caught up in their own petty wants and needs, that they had been unable, no - unwilling - to see the larger picture. Instead, they had trapped him in the middle, each expecting him to wave a magic wand and give them what they desired, without thought or consideration for the consequences. Rubbing wearily at his eyes, he groaned aloud. That wasn't *quite* fair, he admitted to himself. He knew the dockworkers had had legitimate concerns, and if it had been up to him, he'd have given them what they wanted in the first place. What really angered him was that they hadn't even given him a chance to try to help them. It had taken Zantos invoking the Rush Act to get anyone to listen to a word he said. In fact, he realized, sadly, that perhaps *that* was what hurt him the most. The fact that they assumed he was the enemy, that he didn't care. He cared. Goodness knows, Jeffrey Sinclair cared about each and every person on Babylon 5. He felt responsible for them all, human and alien alike. And perhaps, he took his duties far too seriously, but... But, he sometimes felt the importance of this place weighing heavily upon him. It was a chance for peace, an opportunity to bring the many races of the galaxy together to trade and share, to find common ground and understanding. That goal meant everything to him, for the alternative was one he refused to accept. He'd been through a war once in his life, had seen first hand the depths of despair and loss which were warfare's inevitable result. They'd come close, so terribly close, to the destruction of the Earth itself. If the Minbari had not surrendered..... No. He shook his head, wincing at the lance of pain that struck behind his eyes at the sudden motion. *That* question, with all the attendant memories - or more specifically - the *lack* of memories, was far more than he was ready to cope with at this moment. *That* problem could be considered - reconsidered yet again - at another time. After he'd gotten some sleep. If he could sleep. So tired that he felt unable to get to his feet and stumble into his bedroom, he was still unable to ease into slumber. His mind kept circling, repeating images from the past few days. Voices shouting, endless accusations and arguments, and above it all, his own sense of frustration. The door chime rang insistently, warning him that someone was seeking entrance. Closing his eyes, he lay still, praying that if he ignored it, whoever it was would just go away. It sounded again. Swearing under his breath, he opened his eyes to stare blankly at the ceiling before pushing himself up to fully-seated position. "Come..." The command was spoken with reluctant resignation. His hands pressed into his thighs to support his aching shoulders, he looked up to find Nioma Connolly standing hesitantly in the doorway. "What can I do for you, Ms. Connolly," he asked, unable to hide the sharp edge to his voice. She shook involuntarily, as though he had hit her, and his natural sense of courtesy took over. Standing up, he waved for her to enter. She met his amber gaze with uncertainty, then offered him a rueful smile and stepped in through the door. It swished shut behind her, leaving them closeted together in the small space of his quarters. "I..." He gestured for her to take a seat, and she accepted gratefully, before continuing to speak. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Commander, but I wanted to thank you again for what you did for us today." Sitting down next to her on the couch, he shrugged and nodded. "I wanted to avoid any bloodshed." He smiled wryly at her. "Besides, your *demands* were hardly more than fair. I know it was easy to see me as the enemy in this, but I..." "No," she shook her head, causing her the pale gold fall of her hair to shimmer with the motion. She returned his smile, then reached out place her fingers tentatively on his arm. "I know you never wanted this to happen, and that you would have given us the help if it had been your choice to make. I'm sorry for some of the things I said. I was ... angry ... and you were a convenient target." Sinclair nodded, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Yeah, well..." He grinned. "It comes with the job." "Nonetheless, it wasn't fair." she stared somberly at him. "What you did in there today, using the Rush Act to help us, instead of hurt us... I never would have expected it. You did a good thing today, Commander, and I just wanted you to know that I...we...appreciate it very much. All we ever wanted were enough funds to make the docks safe for the people working there, and with the extra funds you've given us, we'll be able to do so. I know there may be some repercussions for your actions, but I hope you know that you also made some friends today as well." "Thank you," he replied sincerely, breathing in sigh of relief. He had felt that he'd made the right decision, and he would stand by it, but it was good to hear *someone* else agree. "Right now," he answered honestly, "I think I can use all the friends I can get." Her face darkened with concern. "There's not going to be more trouble from the Senate over this?" "No," he quickly reassured her. "I just heard from Senator Hidoshi, and the Senate has agreed to accept my solution. A bit reluctantly, perhaps, but they'll go along with it." She relaxed visibly, leaning back into the couch. "Thank goodness," she replied. "I was terrified that there was no way to get through this without someone getting hurt." She looked up at him with somber blue eyes, running a slender hand through her hair in an unconscious gesture. "I never wanted that, though I was...prepared...for it." "I know," he told her softly. "And...I'm sorry about your father. I never got a chance to tell you earlier. It must have been awful for you to lose him like that." His deep voice was rich with genuine understanding and sympathy, and she warmed visibly towards him, though her eyes darkened with a long familiar sadness. "My mother never recovered from it," she confided, the words spilling from her. "She went on, but she was never the same. I don't think I ever heard her laugh again. I was fifteen at the time, and dreaming of becoming a doctor. But after my father's murder, I felt like I had to do something to make his sacrifice worth something. I worked my way into college, and majored in labor relations and history instead of medicine. When I graduated I went to work as a labor negotiator and ... here I am." "I'm sure your father would be very proud of you," he offered sincerely. The corners of her mouth lifted, though her eyes remained shadowed. "I hope so, but I'm not so sure he would be. If it hadn't been for you, this mess would have erupted into violence. People could have been killed. I've fought my entire life for worker's rights, and I believe in what I do, passionately. But I never wanted to see anyone get hurt." "I know that. And luckily no one did get hurt, at least not seriously. I think there are a few bruises here and there..." She chuckled. "Yeah. Your Mr. Garibaldi sure knows how to throw a punch." Then her expression sobered. "But the fact that no one did get seriously hurt is due solely to *you*, Commander. You're the one who found a way to settle this peacefully - and fairly." She gazed straight up into his eyes, studying him closely. "I should have trusted you more than I did." He waved a hand in the air between them. "Why should you? I'm just another Earth Force soldier, after all." The intensity of her regard inched up another notch, and she replied slowly, thoughtfully. "Somehow, I think you're more than that." Then she let him go, her eyes fleeing to her hands, then wandering around the room before returning to him. "At the very least, you're a man of your word. *Thank you* for what you did today. *Thank you*" "You're welcome," he replied with equal seriousness. They looked at each other for a moment, their gazes mingling and holding, neither quite willing to let go. He felt his breath catch in his throat, his exhaustion giving way to something else, something he couldn't quite name - or perhaps, was afraid to. "Ummm," he cleared his throat, and she jerked slightly in her seat, her eyes darting downwards again to focus on her hands, folded together in her lap. Seeking something, anything, to say, his gaze darted around the room, then focused on the kettle sitting empty on the stove. "Would like a cup of tea, or something?" he said, the words tumbling over each other in his hurry to fill the silence. "Unh, no, I should really be going," she said, though she didn't move to get up from the couch. "I shouldn't intrude on you any longer Commander." "That's all right," he replied. "I was going to make some tea anyway and I'd be - glad - of the company." Her face lit up in a smile, making her eyes twinkle like twin sapphires. "In that case, Yes - thank you. I'd love some tea." "Good." - - - - to be continued -- -------------------------------------------------------------------------- jennyann@ix.netcom.com Jenni10647@AOL.com http://members.aol.com/Jenni10647/jgedrick.htm http://members.aol.com/Jenni10647/fanfic.htm http://members.aol.com/JALyon/b5fic.htm "Sometimes the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of humiliation." Fox Mulder "The X-Files" -------------------------------------------------------------------------- From jennyann@ix.netcom.com Sat Jun 15 14:25:12 1996 Date: Thu, 13 Jun 1996 16:18:00 -0700 From: Jennifer Lyon Reply-To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com Subject: NEW: "Conciliation" Part Two Here's Part two of.... "Conciliation" A Babylon 5 FanFiction Story by Jennifer Lyon jennyann@ix.netcom.com He got up and went over the kitchen, retrieving the previously abandoned kettle and bringing it over to the sink to fill it with water. She followed more slowly, taking the time to look around the room. The decor was spare and quiet, a little dark, perhaps, but soothing. The room felt like a refuge from the chaos outside, and she got the sense it reflected well the man himself. He, too, had a simple elegance about him, a strength that did not need to assert itself on others. Most of the men she dealt with seemed to *need* to prove themselves by how loud they could yell, how hard they could punch, or how much power they could yield over others. But not this man. He had set about making tea with characteristic focus on the task at hand, and she was happy for the chance to sit back and take a few deep breaths. To watch him without having to wary, to be with him, without having to negotiate and argue. She didn't quite know where these feelings were coming from, this sudden attraction she felt for this somehow serene, yet always commanding man, but she was too tired, too strained to give it much thought. The sensations were relaxing, perhaps releasing, but either way - she refused to waste what little energy she had examining her own motives. She was here, and that was enough for now. He turned to find her gazing at him, with a far away look in her sapphire eyes, and he smiled warmly. "Credit for your thoughts," he joked. "What?" She was startled by the sudden break of the silence, then looked up at him with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. I guess I was daydreaming." "Anything you want to share?" he asked. "Ahh, nothing really." She tried to stifle a yawn, then smiled at him again. "I guess I'm more tired than I thought." "Me too," he agreed. A buzzer sounded, and he turned to check the kettle. The water was just beginning to boil, and he grabbed it off the hot stove before it began to whistle too vigorously. Turning to the two mugs he had already set out, he poured in the steaming water, then set the kettle down in the sink. Picking up both cups, he handed one out to her. "Here. This is actually a Minbari tea, a gift from Ambassador Delenn. I've become rather fond of it, myself. I've got other kinds if you don't like it." "I'm sure it will be fine, thank you," she responded as she took the mug from his left hand. A small electric tingle race up her arm as her fingers brushed across his. He jerked his hand back as she took firm hold on the cup, almost as though he, too, had been shocked. But his expression remained warm, his brown eyes bright and welcoming, even despite the heavy dark shadows that marred them. They paused for a moment, which lasted a couple breaths too long, then she turned and walked back towards the couch. She didn't look back up until they were both seated, and this time she found him studying her. *What does he see?* she wondered, barely stopping herself from asking the question aloud. Somehow she knew he'd give her an honest answer if she did ask, and more than that, she got the slightly uncomfortable sense that he saw far deeper into her than she wanted to acknowledge. Saluting him with the tea cup, she brought it to her lips and took a cautious sip. It was hot, and the flavor was different from anything she'd tried before. Exotic, almost flowery, yet not too sweet. She took another sip, letting the fluid tingle across her tongue, then she found herself smiling up at him. "It's really quite good," she said with pleased surprise. His face brightened in response to her approval, gaining back some of its youth as a few of the lines surrounding his eyes melted away. "Yes, it is. Delenn introduced me to it during one of those endless diplomatic meetings that occur far too often around here, and I liked it so much that she gave me some the next day. I can't prove this, but I think it has curative properties. At least as far as curing headaches are concerned." She took another sip and nodded. "You could be right. I do feel quite a bit better. Though that may simply be because I'm not listening to anyone shouting at me right now." He grinned, sighed, and slumped back into the couch. "I know what you mean. Between the strike and Londo and G'Kar..." She looked curiously at him, and he abruptly began to chuckle. "I suppose it's really rather funny, but at the time, it was one more annoyance than I was prepared to tolerate." Grinning he launched into a hilarious account of the latest antics of two of Babylon 5's more *colorful* Ambassadors, and by the time he was finished, she was nearly doubled over in laughter. "And has the Centauri statue been returned?" she asked between bursts of laughter. He had to take a deep breath himself before replying. "I'm not sure, but it had better be found by tomorrow." A note of authority slipped into his tone, but for the first time, she did not find it abrasive. Suddenly she realized - remembered - that he had never once used his command position to threaten, that what she had read as obtrusive authority had never once been abused, instead it had been held with calm assurance, wielded firmly when necessary, but always with honesty and honor. It had been the position, the symbol, rather than the man, that her people had been fighting, a realization that was deeply comforting. She was staring at him - again - she abruptly realized, causing a fiery blush to work its way across her cheeks towards her hairline. Dipping her eyes down to the mug in her hands, she fought for composure. When she had recovered enough to meet his calm gaze again, she offered him a half-smile. "Sorry. I guess I got lost there again." "That's OK," he replied with understanding. Putting his mug down on the nearby table, he then reached up to rub at the sore muscles in the back of his neck. "It's been a long couple days for us both." Her eyes followed his hands, and before she even knew she was doing it, she had added her mug to his on the table, and then was shifting closer to him. "Here, let me do that," she said, the words coming out of her mouth almost of their own volition. His eyes met hers, the rich chocolate-colored orbs questioning, but he acquiesced silently. The back of his neck felt like knotted iron, the muscles cramped tightly beneath the smooth satin of his skin. Slipping her fingers under the loose collar of his white shirt, she kneaded the sore flesh of his shoulders and upper back, slowly easing away the tension an inch at a time. His breathing began to slow under her ministrations, and she could feel his body begin to relax. Stopping briefly, she adjusted her position so that she was resting on the couch behind him while he faced away from her towards the kitchen. When she was comfortable, she began again to firmly massage the back of his neck, letting her fingers wander down his spine, then move back up to caress the bottom of his scalp. He moaned as she hit a particularly sore spot, and she stopped to give it extra attention, her probing fingers searching for, and finding a tight ball of cramped muscle and sinew. Rubbing over it repeatedly, she felt the tissue soften under her touch, and a long sigh escaped his lips. He slumped back slightly to rest against her, and she leaned forward to support him. They continued like this for a while, until he murmured so softly that she had to strain to hear him. "If you ever need another job..." She chuckled, and gave his now-relaxed shoulders one more squeeze. "I'll keep it in mind. In the meantime, I don't suppose you're up to returning the favor." She winced slightly as she spoke, the aching muscles of her own body protesting the strain of the past few days with vigorous jealousy. He laughed as he turned, then bowed his head to her. "How could I refuse?" She smiled, then eased herself down to a more comfortable sitting position. Even though she was expecting it, the touch of his hands on her shoulders sent a hardly-unpleasant tingle down her spine. He urged her around, then pulled her backwards, so that she was seated sideways on the couch, her bottom pressed against the hard warmth of his thigh. She could feel his breath on the crown of her head, and the gentle power of his hands on the back of her neck. She tensed involuntarily, then felt herself all but melt into a puddle when he began to massage the constricted tendons of her shoulders. A contented purr escaped her lips, and she relaxed back against him, becoming all too aware of the hard, lean strength of his body so close to hers. "Mmmm," she murmured, "if *you* ever need another job..." His laughter was a like a heated hum in her ear, brushing against the silken tendrils of her hair. "Don't tempt me." She laughed with him, feeling the tension slowly beginning to release into the slow caress of his hands and voice. Her neck felt suddenly unable to hold up her head, and she let it fall back against the hollow where his arm met his shoulder. He shifted behind her to support her, his shoulder cradling the back of her head, and she turned to let her cheek rub against the soft cotton of his white shirt. His hands continued to kneed the aching muscles of her back and shoulders, one slipping downward to trace the length of her spine. That touch sent a rush of sensation through her body, liquid heat pooling in her groin. A soft sigh of pleasure escaped her lips, and he gave another light chuckle, this time against her ear. She felt the moist warmth of his breath stir the strands of hair against her cheek, and hardly realizing she was doing it, she leaned around to press against the source. His lips touched the edge of her ear, and she groaned aloud. He froze. - - - - - That low, throaty moan made his entire body stiffen. She felt too incredibly good against him, from the silken, shiny strands of her hair to the pliant firmness of her flesh. Her hair smelled of coconut and her skin had a fragrance all its own, the slightest touch of human sweat mixed with something reminiscent of the springtime air at home. He felt his entire body harden in response, and he shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. Was he making a mistake, misreading her? Her body reacted to his apparent withdrawal, by renewing some its tension. She stiffened slightly in his grasp, then pulled away from his grip on her shoulders and turned around to face him. He lifted his eyes to hers tentatively, almost afraid of what he might see in those wide azure orbs. But they met him openly, her mouth slightly parted as she met the burning intensity of his gaze without hesitation. A few golden strands of hair were clinging to her cheekbone, and without unlocking their gazes, he reached up to stroke them away. He let the whisps feather over his fingers before letting them go, then bestowed the lightest of touches on her cheek. Her eyes shuttered, and she leaned her cheek closer into his hand. He cupped the side of her face, simply holding it still for a long moment before exerting the most delicate of pressure. Tilting her chin upwards with tender fingers, he closed the distance between their faces until they could each taste the other's breath. "Nioma?" he whispered, making a question of her name. She answered without speaking, taking away that last spare inch between them, so that their lips just barely touched. She held there, leaving the final commitment to him, and with a low growl in his throat, he took it. ----------- to be continued -- -------------------------------------------------------------------------- jennyann@ix.netcom.com Jenni10647@AOL.com http://members.aol.com/Jenni10647/jgedrick.htm http://members.aol.com/Jenni10647/fanfic.htm http://members.aol.com/JALyon/b5fic.htm "Sometimes the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of humiliation." Fox Mulder "The X-Files" -------------------------------------------------------------------------- From jennyann@ix.netcom.com Sat Jun 15 14:25:17 1996 Date: Thu, 13 Jun 1996 16:19:34 -0700 From: Jennifer Lyon Reply-To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com Subject: NEW: "Conciliation" Epilogue Here's the epilogue to... "Conciliation" A Babylon 5 FanFiction Story by Jennifer Lyon jennyann@ix.netcom.com He could hear the shower running as he poured water into the coffee maker. Well, he thought ruefully, into the *synthetic-coffee* maker. At least the stuff was full of caffeine, he was definitely going to need it. The few hours of sleep he had gotten were hardly as much as he needed, but he couldn't help smiling at the reason for this night's 'disturbance.' It had been a far better cause for losing sleep than getting woken up by yet another station crisis that apparently only *he* could solve. His eyes turned a rich warm amber as he stared in the direction of his bedroom. Even so, his expression turned somber as he leaned against the kitchen counter, combing a hand through his disarrayed hair. As wonderful as it had been, this had probably not been the wisest of choices. It was more than a bit unprofessional, to say the least. Yet, he found it hard to feel any regrets. It had been a long time since he'd felt quite so at ease with someone. While he was not foolish enough to think they had suddenly fallen in love, he could feel a genuine respect and affection, a trust that he wanted to encourage and foster. His eyes wandered back towards the bedroom, and he quietly prepared himself for the upcoming conversation. Hopefully, it would be far more pleasant than their previous discussions, and it would be far easier for them to reach an agreement. *God, Jeff,* he laughed at himself, *you're even beginning to think like a dammed diplomat in your personal life.* The doorbell sounded, disrupting his thoughts. He darted a glance at the bedroom, but it was clear that she was still occupied with enjoying one of the few perks of his command position. She'd been delighted to find a real running-water shower, and he'd been happy to turn over the morning allotment to her. Hopefully, he could get rid of whoever this was quickly. "Who?" he called out, closing another couple of buttons on his shirt. "Zantos," came the irritable reply, and Jeff felt his entire body stiffen. *Oh no...not now!* But there was no way he could get rid of the obnoxious EarthGov negotiator without seeing him. Praying that Nioma would either stay in the shower or at least behind the wall shielding the bedroom from the rest of his quarters, he sighed under his breath and reluctantly called out, "Come." The door swished aside to reveal a glowering Zantos. Jeff wondered briefly if the man was capable of any expression besides annoyance or fake conciliation. Probably not, he decided wryly. "What can I do for you, Mr. Zantos," he said politely, stepping forward to hold Zantos within a few steps of the door. "I suppose you've heard that the Senate decided to uphold this ridiculous decision of yours," Zantos said with no preamble. Jeff allowed himself a faint smile. "Yes. Senator Hidoshi called me last night." Zantos' expression managed to get even more forbidding. "Just because you got away with perverting the intention of the Rush Act this time, doesn't mean you'll continue to get away with such behavior in the future. You set a dangerous precedent here, and others are going to get stuck cleaning up your mess. Don't think this will be forgotten, Sinclair." "I'd never presume to think any such thing," Jeff replied coldly. "Now if that it is all, I do have things to do...." "Jeff, that was utterly wonderful. I haven't had a real shower in..." Nioma stepped into the living room, her petite form draped in his robe, the hem trailing behind her on the floor. Her sapphire eyes focused in on Zantos, and her normally fair skin bleached to pure ivory. Both men turned to look at her, Jeff with resignation, Zantos with first shock and then blazing anger. "So that's the way it is, Sinclair. No wonder you were so willing to bend over backwards for that rabble." "Now wait just a minute here," Jeff interrupted, his voice strung taut with anger. "No *you* just wait," Zantos sputtered. "My superiors back in Earth Dome will hear all about your totally unprofessional behavior, you can count on that. You're an embarrassment to Earth Force, *Commander,* and maybe now they'll realize that fact and do something about it!" Zantos spun on his heels and stalked out the door, leaving Nioma wide-eyed, and Jeff tensed with rage. "Oh God, I'm so sorry," she told him, stretching out a hand toward his back. "I'm so sorry Jeff. This is all my fault." "No." He said, a little to loudly. He drew in a deep breath and forced his anger down before turning to look at her. "Nioma, this isn't your fault, at least not any more than it is mine. We both knew there could be consequences for what happened yesterday...all of it...and it's all right." He suddenly broke into a grin. "He just really makes me see red, you know?" She couldn't help returning his smile, though her eyes remained troubled. Stepping up closer to him, she pressed her hand against his chest and looked up into his face. "I just don't want to see you get into any more trouble because of me. This station needs you." He shrugged slightly, having trouble taking the implied praise. He focused in on the first statement. "It will be all right. I've never been particularly popular in government circles anyway. I have a tendency to say and do what I think without playing politics as well as I probably should. But I'm satisfied with the decisions I've made. They were the right ones, and that's what really matters. I'll handle the consequences." She smiled more warmly. "I'm glad. I think you made the right decisions too. And whatever happens, I'll stand by you." He closed his hand over hers, pressing it into his chest. He squeezed it gently, his gaze warm and tender on her face. Then his expression sombered. "What about you? Any...regrets? This could put you in a difficult position." She shook her head slightly, then met his gaze openly. "No. No regrets." He leaned down to kiss her quickly, then pulled back and echoed her words, his forming a promise. "No regrets." The End (Unless anyone wants me to write a sequel. I might anyway! :) ) -Jenny -- -------------------------------------------------------------------------- jennyann@ix.netcom.com Jenni10647@AOL.com http://members.aol.com/Jenni10647/jgedrick.htm http://members.aol.com/Jenni10647/fanfic.htm http://members.aol.com/JALyon/b5fic.htm "Sometimes the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of humiliation." Fox Mulder "The X-Files" --------------------------------------------------------------------------