From Afar

SPOILERS FOR SEASON FOUR UP TO AND INCLUDING "THE SUMMONING"

* Standard Disclaimers Apply - all characters lovingly created and copyrighted by jms and Babylonian Productions *

musings by elfin

 

*It's true! You're alive! I didn't believe them when they told me; we tried so hard to find you, how could we have failed? Let me look at you, let me hold you, oh god I've missed you. So much I've learned over these passed days; learned? Or realized? You look so good! I'm so glad they didn't hurt you, or did they? You've been well looked after, you look so good...

When I felt you leave us, leave this universe, I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how to go on. You'd have asked me to look after your station, but before I've always been able to hand it back to you, not this time. I've coped with grief in the past, but this wasn't just my grief, I could feel the despair from the others, the pain of your death hit us all so suddenly and so hard.

But you're here, you're back, to once again take your station under your care. And to be around. I've missed seeing you, expecting to see you, bumping in to you around the station. Your smiling face, your handsome features, your sparkling eyes. Something has changed though, hasn't it? You used to radiate innocence, even after all you'd been through, all the pain you'd known. No longer, you feel... harder, how did Stephen put it? Hardass, that was it.

But your smile is still as warm as I remember it. I picture you sometimes, so small against the backdrop of the universe, and the war, and the Army of Light - your army. A tiny bolt in the centre, holding it all together. When we thought you were dead, it all fell apart, all the pieces drifting away. But you walked on to the station and immediately the pieces were pulled back into place, fixed and held there by your presence. Just you. I remember watching you as you batted with Michael in the garden, thinking how young and vulnerable you looked, how little cares you showed to the people around you, but how many I knew you had. You carried around the cares of the universe with you, but you always had time for us. Sometimes, it was almost as if the universe were protecting you, holding you close... although after everything I doubt you've ever felt that way.

You've lost the wonder you held in the universe; yes John, you'd be amazed at what I can read from you, what I can sense. You used to have a wonder, almost childlike. I loved that in you, something I lost I long time ago. Now you've lost it too; I guess it was bound to happen. I hope she didn't suffer too much, because if she did, you'll blame yourself. You saved us all John. I wish I could thank you in the way I'd like to. I wish I could tell you how I feel.

The nights I sat and stared into my drink, not wanting the responsibility you'd left me with, just wanting to sit alone and miss you, think about you, about all the things I should have said to you. Will I ever say them? Will I learn my lesson and tell you now, before you leave me again? I love you John - it's been so long since I've said that to anyone, so long since I've wanted to. God, I love you so much it hurts, I want you so much that my dreams are going to become my fantasies. Please John, let me love you, let me show you...*

Susan stepped back, releasing Sheridan from the tight hug, "John, it's good to have you back."

Fin by elfin




Instant Feedback!  (No Flames Please)






email the author : back : Scrawlings




Crying Alone
by elfin


Characters copyright jms and Babylonian productions

Re-written June 2004


Michael watched John until he couldn't watch anymore. He'd followed his captain out into the maze after his abrupt exit from C&C - Sheridan had found a quiet spot, sunk down onto the bench there and let his tears finally start to flow.

They'd all known this had to happen some time. Since his rescue from Mars, John had forced himself straight back into his role as Captain, trying to continue the fight while his fears played quietly in his mind. Stephen had warned him that bottling it all up, not facing what he'd been through during his captivity, would be harmful to him, and maybe to those around him.  But as usual he'd ignored the warnings.

He'd accepted Michael's apology easily, all hugs and smiles while he was recovering from his injuries - massive internal damage, malnutrition, dehydration, shock, trauma.  Broken bones left untreated since Michael's betrayal of him in the bar that terrible night.

He had pushed himself, badgered Stephen until he'd had little choice but to releasedhim from medical leave, and gone back to work. He'd buried himself in the day-to-day running of the station and the on-going war of words with Clark and his government.

Until this morning.

This morning a private message had come through on Gold Channel for Captain Sheridan. He had taken the message in his office and only moments later Michael and Susan had gone running in, following the sound of his screams.

They'd found John backed against the window that overlooked the garden, trying to press himself through the re-inforced glass while struggling to keep up his well-maintained front - his mask of health.

But as Susan had approached him, he'd bolted for the door like a frightened child. And they'd turned to the screen together to see being played out, John's fight in the bar.

Michael had almost snapped along with his captain, only Susan had kept him from cracking.

She'd told him in no uncertain terms that John need him right now.  Whatever pain lay between them, unspoken, festering unseen, could only be banished by the two of them looking to one another for understanding.

Michael watched John now from his silent vigil, out of site.  He still remembered clearly the moment John had left for Z'Ha'Dum - the moment the man's life had changed irrevocably. Both their lives.

Michael felt like crying a little himself, hearing John's tears dissolve into shattering sobs, seeing the great man collapse in on himself.

John covered his face with crossed arms, hand clawing into his own shaking shoulders.

Michael couldn't stand by and let John put himself through this.

Quietly, he approached.

There were no words for now.  Sitting down, he took John's trembling body into his arms and simply held him, offering strength where he was surprised he had any, where he knew John no longer did.

More surprising perhaps, John went thankfully into his embrace, accepting the gesture of friendship, too desperate to fight it now.  The facade had crumbled, his fight with his memories and emotions had been lost.  He was defeated.

He wept for a long time, his tears soaking slowly through Michael's shirt.

Michael ran his fingers through soft hair, soothing John not as a colleague or a friend, but as a man who'd once been a lover.  A man who'd once known this intimacy and more.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" he asked eventually when his thoughts formed words and they tumbled free.  "Why keep all this inside?  How can you bury this? We can only begin to imagine what you went through, what they did to you.  Everything they put you through - they hurt you so bad, John. But *they* did it to *you* and you didn't give in, you didn't betray anyone. We're so proud of you. But we know you paid the price of your silence.  John, we know you're still paying it.  These things have scarred you forever.  But you're not alone now.  You lost me for a time, hell, I lost myself.  But I'm here now.  You're here.  And however much you hate that fact, we have to find a way of going on."


Time passed.  John stilled in his arms and after a long while red-rimmed azure stared up at him and a broken voice spoke to him.

"In that bar I thought we were okay.  And then, afterwards, I hated myself for being so naive.  Everything they did... it was pain, worse than I'd ever known.  But nothing was worse than knowing you were the reason I was there, going through that."

It hurt to hear it but Michael stayed quiet, forced himself not to look away from the intense, accusing eyes.

"It felt like such complete defeat.  If I couldn't trust you then who the hell could I trust?"

Michael sniffed and swallowed his own tears and the accusation in John's eyes melted, replaced by a heart-wrenching sorrow.

"I know what they did to you Mike.  And I am sorry.  More than you'll ever fully comprehend.  For myself as well as for you.  There was a sequence of torture and each time it restarted I thought there was no hope.  Some of the things they did... the poisons, the beatings, the starvation, the humiliations... I don't know how to deal with any of it."  He lifted his hands in a useless gesture.  "All the military training means nothing now.  The people who trained me are the same ones who inflicted this.  How do I stop the nightmares?  How do I live when I everything I eat tastes of vomit and everytime someone touches me I panic?"

John took a deep, shuddering breath.  "I'm sorry," he smiled slightly, "you did tell me to talk."

Michael nodded.  "I wish I had answers for you - any answers.  I wish they'd killed me rather than use me to get to you.  But all I have is me."

A rare smile touched John's lips, lighting his face.  "Are you on offer?"

"To you?"  He grinned with some effort.  "Sure.  Whatever I can do.  Just promise me something.  No more crying alone, right?"

fin
elfin




Instant Feedback!  (No Flames Please)






email the author : back : Scrawlings



Safe Passage by elfin


// SPOILERS FOR Z'HA'DUM & HOUR OF THE WOLF // Standard disclaimers - all characters copyright jms and Babylonian Productions.

Rewritten June 2004


It was cold, so very cold.

To try to keep himself warm he attempted to pull his tattered clothes closer around his shoulders and chest. It didn't help.  His trousers were torn and there was very little left of his shirt.

He didn't understand what had happened, just that he was hungry and thirsty, too tired to think.

Worse, he was still alive.

He continued to stagger through the cavernous passages, searching for a way out or at least answers to his questions. Where was he?  How had a dead Vorlon saved his life?  And why?

Not for this, surely?

There had been a time when he'd be eagerly looking for what he needed, his only thought would have been of escape.

But this was a different time, and if he'd have thought for one moment that he could just sit down and death would finally come and take his soul, he would stopped walking.

But the fact that he'd thrown himself down a very deep hole, that'd he felt the crushing agony of hitting the rock at the bottom, and that he'd woken again, dressed in the torn remains of his uniform, told him that this probably wasn't his time to die. Finding that he was alive had been a surprise, but finding that only his left arm and a few ribs were broken was an even bigger one.

He'd been walking for what felt like days, although he suspected that it had only been a few hours.

He kept asking himself why.  Why wouldn't Kosh just let him die? 

His thoughts were slowly becoming more and more chaotic.  The pain from his arm affecting his judgement.  Kosh was dead.  But he'd definitely heard him say 'jump', hadn't he?  Just before the White Star crashed through the dome? 

Even in death, it seemed, Kosh was the one in control of his life. He couldn't remember the last time his life had been his own.

He looked up, into the distance ahead of him and saw an amber light - firelight. His pace quickened, even though every movement drove white-hot pains though his broken arm - he wished it would just go numb, he was sure that that was what was supposed to happen, but when did anything in his life follow the path of logic?

It was a fire, a small one burning in the centre of a circular cavern at the end of the path he'd been following - why did he get the feeling that it wouldn't have mattered which path he'd chosen? He would still be here.

He looked around for anyone else, then huddled close to the fire, so close the embers burned in his eyes. Slowly the warmth began to unfog his mind. He tore some material from the base of his trousers and forged a make-shift sling, ready to put it around his neck when the time came to continue on his search. For now he gingerly laid his arm across his knees as he sat down on the stone floor.

He heard a clicking sound, like bone on rock, and turned, suddenly frightened that shadows were down here with him.

Behind him stood a cloaked creature, human in shape as far as he could tell, face covered completely by a long black hood, nothing of him showed under the heavy material; John might have thought there was nothing inside if it hadn't spoken.

"You are John Sheridan."

He didn't answer - it hadn't been a question; but he watched as the man (the voice had sounded male) came closer.

"You have been born here, John Sheridan. I have done as I was asked, as I promised."

"Wh-?"

He found that he had difficulty speaking, his dry throat hurt, his body was crying out for water.

"Who am I is no concern. There is one of your own searching for you. I will guide you to him. Follow me."

No fight left, John bent his neck and hooked the sling over it, using his good hand to pull the rags around him again. He stood, but his body had taken all it was going to take, his legs gave way and had the cloaked man not caught him, he would have hit the ground a second time.

"You are more injured than I thought. Let me help you. You must go to him, he cannot come in here."

The man raised a gloved hand to the clasp at the neck of the cloak, and John heard the fastening undo; underneath the cloak there was what John had seen that terrible afternoon on Babylon 5, when Kosh had saved his life in the shuttle bombing.

"Kosh?"

He could only stare he was gently helped to his feet and the cloak was wrapped around him.

"Only part of me."


He said nothing more as he gently led John through a maze of passages until they were on the surface.

"You are safe now. The radiation will not harm either of you - he will find you here."

In the distance he could hear Garibaldi's voice, and in response he heard his own voice cry out. Once sure that Garibaldi had seen them, the figure started to walk away, stopping after a few steps and looking down at John for the last time.

"Goodbye John Sheridan. Son of Kosh."


Garibaldi knelt down by John's side, welcomed by a smile of gratitude.

"You came for me.."

As he helped his captain to his feet, he quoted,

"Sometimes, when people walk away, it's because they really do want to be alone, and sometimes it's because they want to see if you'll follow them into hell. This time, I know I went the right way."


fin
elfin




Instant Feedback!  (No Flames Please)






email the author : back : Scrawlings



Another Day
by elfin


// DISCLAIMERS: characters are copyright jms and Babylonian Productions //

June 2004 - in desperate need of a re-write...

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

The scream pierced the quiet of John Sheridan's quarters.

He leapt from the shower, grabbing a nearby towel.

Someone had set his shower preferences to ice-water; someone with security clearance; probably someone who'd been threatening to do it for some time.

Vowing his revenge he barked an order at the computer to reset them and resumed his shower.

If G'Kar hadn't have been walking past, that would have been the end of it; the day would have run as any other day, and Susan Ivanova would have been on the receiving end of a dozen separate personal deliveries of red roses throughout the day - in C&C, in full view of everyone.

She hated to be embarrassed.

But G'Kar was walking past Sheridan's door on his way to Garibaldi's quarters. He heard what he heard and increased his pace, arriving at the security chief's door out of breath and panicked. 

"G'Kar?"

"Screaming.." the Narn panted for breath, "I heard screaming... from Captain Sheridan's quarters."

A look of horror flew over the chief's face, settling to concern as he activated his link.

"Garibaldi to Sheridan... Captain?" There was no answer. "Garibaldi to Zack, get a security team to the captain's quarters. Stat."

"On our way, Chief."

Michael pushed passed G'kar, laying a hand on his arm, "Stay here." He was so deadly serious.

"Of course."


Sheridan stood in the shower languishing in the hot water beating on his skin, running his fingers through his hair, down the back of his neck, over his shoulders and chest to his crotch. Eyes closed, face lifted into the flow of the water, he rubbed himself sensuously, taking his erect cock into his hands and massaging, letting the groan escape his lips, imagining the hands of another were on him...


Michael met the assembled security team outside the captain's quarters. Motioning for them all to move back, he armed his PPG and keyed in the security override. The door opened and Garibaldi peeked inside, there was noone around. Waving one bouncing finger at Zack he moved inside, scanning the area and continuing into the bedroom...


Maybe if Sheridan showered with either the shower door or the bathroom door closed, the security chief would have simply heard the water and come to the right conclusion. But Sheridan liked to be able to hear the bleep of the babcom link, so he didn't close either door.

Garibaldi nearly shot the captain in his own shower. He stopped dead in his tracks, gun pulled, unable to make his mouth work. He luckily had the presence of mind to hold up a halting hand to the rest of the team, stopping them from following his path.

Sheridan and Garibaldi stared at each other. In a few swift moments both experienced the same run of emotions; surprise, shock, embarrassment and arousal. In one quick movement the captain had grabbed the towel from the floor and thrown it round him, getting it soaked in the continuing shower, as Michael continued to stare. Finally he found his voice, and lowering and disarming the PPG he started to back away,

"Shit! I'm sorry, sorry..."

He held up two hands of apology and practically ran from the room, straight into the awaiting security team, blushing wildly, he choked out,

"It's okay, false alarm. Sorry."

The team holstered their PPGs and left, glad not to have been involved in a fight. Zack hung back, "Are you sure everything's okay?"

Garibaldi nodded, grimacing in utter embarrassment. "He's perfect okay - I think maybe G'Kar heard something else."


Garibaldi wanted to hit the Narn when he got back to his quarters,

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah G'Kar, the captain is fine. The sound you heard, are you sure it was a scream?"


***


Sheridan stood for a long time staring at where Garibaldi had been. He had no idea about what had happened; you couldn't even have a shower in peace these days. He wondered for a moment if Ivanova had set that up too, but dismissed it, she wouldn't waste station security's time like that, not with things the way they were. So he stopped trying to figure it out, he'd finish his shower, dress, and go in search of *Mr* Garibaldi himself.

He started to think about what he must have looked like. Not an easy situation for an officer, storming into your captain's quarters, obviously thinking something was wrong, and finding him stark naked, masturbating in the shower. He smiled to himself; then he noticed that despite everything he was still hard in his own hand. Gradually he started stimulating himself again, but this time his fantasies were different. Very different.

***

Sheridan decided that confronting Garibaldi as a friend, rather than as his CO, would make the situation less delicate. He'd realized that the chief must have been more embarrassed than he had been. He dressed in a gray patterned shirt and soft dark trousers. For some reason he'd also shaved; he just wanted to. After his long orgasm in the shower, part of him wanted to preen.

Garibaldi walked into C&C still blushing. Ivanova saw him.

"You alright Michael?"

"Yeah, just had.. sort of an embarrassing incident."

"Want to explain?"

"Not really."

She shrugged, looking at the timer on the command panel, "Nearly time..."

"What?"

"The captain should be waking about now, he'll go into the shower. I've reprogrammed his shower settings to ice water. Any time now there'll be some very blue cries coming from his bathroom."

Garibaldi stared at her, "Ice water?"

"Yeah, in return for the comments at breakfast yesterday - I told him I'd have my revenge."

"Ice water." Realization hit him slowly. Susan was still smiling, pleased with herself.

"He'll be here to have a shout at me."

"Or yeah, he'll shout. In fact, I think he did a bit of screaming when he discovered your little prank."

"How do you know?"

"G'Kar heard him. He thought he was being murdered. He came to my quarters and I got a security team out." Susan's eyes widened. "If your water trick gave him a fright, seeing me standing in his bathroom, PPG aimed, while he was taking a shower must have really surprised him."

Susan started to laugh, "You burst in on the captain while he was in the shower?!"

"Yeah."

"Oh no...!" But her mirth betrayed her utter amusement.

Right until her link bleeped.

"Sheridan to Ivanova."

"Ivanova here." She tried to keep her face straight.

"Susan, have you seen Garibaldi?"

"He's right here captain."

The link went dead and Garibaldi started to back out,

"Uh ho, I'm out of here - if he asks again, I'm in Gray 17."

Susan was still laughing when Sheridan strolled into C&C. He looked gorgeous out of uniform - she'd thought so often. She briefly envied Garibaldi's seeing him naked.. and buried the thought.

"Captain."

"Susan. Thank you for my wake up call."

"I warned you. But I hear it drew more attention than I meant it to."

"Yeah, Garibaldi. Scared the life out of me - a whole security team! God knows why!"

"G'Kar heard you scream, presumably when you turned the shower on. He thought you were being attacked."

"Ah."

"He was here when you called, but he shot off as soon as he knew you were coming up here. I think he's embarrassed." She tried to suppress a giggle; failed.

"You think this is funny?"

"Absolutely. I'd have loved to have been there to see the look..." she trailed off, realizing what she'd said. He frowned, "Hey, if I knew there was that much interest I'd have started selling tickets." He sighed, "I have to find Garibaldi or else I don't think he'll ever look me in the eyes again."

Despite his determination to find his security chief, and the fact that he was off-duty most of the day, out of uniform, both Londo and G'Kar managed to distract him. Londo wanted to chat, G'Kar wanted to apologize for the incident that morning.

By mid-afternoon he still hadn't found Garibaldi. He went back to his own quarters and as he rounded the corner he saw the very man he'd spent his day looking for. Michael was waiting by his door.

"I have been looking for you since this morning!"

Garibaldi met his amused gaze for a moment, then looked away. After G'Kar had left his quarters earlier on, Michael had sat down to think - he'd thought about what he'd done. He'd replayed what he'd seen in his mind; John standing in the shower, water coarsing over his body, eyes closed for an instant, hand between his legs holding his cock... God he was gorgeous; he'd always thought so, especially out of uniform. He'd remembered other times: after the bomber as he stood panting and sweating against the pillar; on the link after the Narn attack on Vir's fiance, with his shirt unbuttoned; more privately he cherished memories of their friendly lunches and dinners, batting practice on the field, shared breakfasts in the mess hall... Garibaldi had had to take a cold shower himself before going back on duty.

Sheridan opened his door and invited Michael in.

"I only came here to apologize."

"Come in. Please."

Reluctantly, Garibaldi followed his captain into the darkened room.

"Lights, not too bright." He was always grousing about the brightness of the lights in his quarters. To Garibaldi he said, "Drink?"

"No.. Captain I have to be.."

"You don't have to be anywhere, I've checked your schedule."

While Sheridan poured himself an orange juice, Michael shifted from foot to foot.

"I just.. I wanted to say sorry, about this morning."

"Michael, look at me."

The chief swallowed hard and raised his eyes to his captain's. Those beautiful blue eyes held amusement and sympathy.

"It's okay, Susan told me that G'Kar heard me scream, you were concerned, that's your job. So you saw me naked in the shower, it's no big deal Michael, unless I've got something you haven't." He smiled, his whole face beaming. Garibaldi relaxed; began to drink in his captain's image. He loved that gray shirt, the way it set off the blue of his eyes, and Sheridan had the first couple of buttons undone, revealing soft, clean skin....

He had to get out of here.

"John, I'm glad we sorted this out. But I really have got to go."

"Okay." He waited until the door had opened before adding, "And if you ever want a repeat performance..."

Michael spent the couple of hours wondering if his captain had been joking. Then he got the answer.


fin
elfin




Instant Feedback!  (No Flames Please)






email the author : back : Scrawlings


Thoughts From a Hole.
by elfin

* Standard Disclaimers Apply - all characters lovingly created and copyrighted by jms and Babylonian Productions *

Rewrite June 2004


Darkness.

And pain.

But no sudden stop to the fall - what had I expected?

To smash bodily against the jagged base of this canyon and to lie in agony until death finally claimed me.

Why wasn't I caught in the blast?

Why haven't I been eradicated like everything else should have been?

Did Kosh save me?

I lie here, looking around, trying to get used to the black and see, to no avail.

Can only see Anna standing in horror as death crashed in through the safety of the dome.

I killed her.

It's all I can think now; I killed her again.

Why can't I think of anything else?

Why did Kosh saved me for this?

Why can't I just be allowed to die?

The hours pass; the blackness won't lift.

Dull aches in my limbs slowly turn to fiery pain - broken bones protesting that they need medical help.

There is no help.

Why would Kosh save me from a quick death to have me pass away slowly, alone and afraid.

I'm so afraid.

The last heroic act is done, I am only human.

But not defeated.

Sit up, try to stand and understand the surroundings, maybe there is a way out. Come on Johnny, Kosh can't give everything away, he wasn't supposed to help you here at all.

Even moving one finger is hard - so many bones are broken, if my legs are too, there won't be any escape.  I can't feel them but I'll try to stand, use this - rock? - for balance.   Where am I?  What is this place?

I can only feel my way, hands moving cautiously across the cold surfaces.  The dark won't let up.  Either that or I'm blind.  Did the explosion do that?  Was I a part of the death of this planet or not?

One arm's unmoveable, going numb.

And now there's blood in my eyes; must have opened the wound again, that's all, won't die from it.  If a two mile plumet into a hole in a planet won't do it - a flesh wound certainly won't.

What's that?

Light?

A way out maybe?

What?

Oh god....no....

"No!"

~

John Sheridan awakes screaming, the light stinging his eyes.

He tries to lift his arms to shield himself from the brightness but he can't. He's trapped. Again.

"Turn the lights down."

A voice - female - hands on his face.

The lights dim and somehow he knows he's safe now.

Blinking, he looks up to meet a familiar smile - Susan's.

"Easy John, it was just a dream. You're in medlab."

"Where's the inquisitor?" He can hear his own panicked voice begging but it his own words aren't making sense. 

He lifts his head with enormous effort and sees why he can't lift his arms - one is weighted down by a cast, the other is held by Garibaldi, gently but firmly - and he can see that it's to stop him yanking out the IV lines from his hand.

As he lies back down he sees Susan cast a glance at Michael, and Michael shake his head.

"Don't try to ask, don't make him think about it anymore. I don't know how much he can take."

Michael, always worried.  Always there at his side.

And Susan - "You're safe John. Just try to relax. Let us look after you."

Sleep eventually takes him under again, and a voice, in the distance, speaks to him.

"You went to Z'Ha'Dum and you died.  It is all over."

fin




Instant Feedback!  (No Flames Please)






email the author : back : Scrawlings



Light and Dark
by elfin
ROUND ROBIN I


***RAPE WARNING***

"I'm asking you to leave this station before I have to throw you off."

Sheridan glared at the Vorlon standing impassively in front of him. He'd tried to do this the polite way, now he was trying the impolite way, ordering the Vorlon off the station.

If this didn't work, it would have to be the dangerous way. There was no answer from the Vorlon, but too late Sheridan saw the eye diaphragm close to a pin point; he tried to dive out of the way, but he was too slow to react, and the energy stream hit him full force in the chest. He was thrown back against the wall and held there.

A moment of exquisite agony passed, then the stream was cut and John gasped in a painful breath; feeling as if his lungs had been squeezed together.

Another moment. Then a searing scream filled his mind as the Vorlon reached out to him. It was not gentle as Kosh used to be, it was violent and rough; his mind was being raped. His head went back, cracking against the hard metal wall. He flung one arm up, covering his eyes, shaking his head wildly.

"Get out of me, you bastard!"

Poor choice of words. The Vorlon found what he was looking for, took it from John, wrenching harder than he needed to at the memories. When he pulled out of Sheridan's mind, the human collapsed.

"So... he loved you."

John looked up, confusion misting over his eyes. In the back of his mind, he could hear a voice, a familiar voice, telling him to run. The same voice had told him to jump and he'd obeyed it without question. Not that he'd had much of a choice. Now he had a choice - he chose to ignore the voice, he was damned if another Vorlon was going to turn it's back on him.

"What are talking about?"

"Kosh... I believe he is still inside you, willingly. He is trying to protect you. Tell me what the two of you shared."

Sheridan's eyes widened; he and Kosh had shared much.  Kosh had, now and again, expressed his feelings for John in a physical manner, making love to him, teaching him to trust and love, as well as to fight. Towards the end, their relationship had changed, becoming a father/son connection.

It had been a difficult transition to make; Kosh had been a beautiful and talented lover, and John missed him as much in that role than any other.

But the Vorlon had been adamant that it was the only way; John was destined for another. There was no way that he was going to divulge any of that to the Vorlon looming over him now.

"Go to hell. That's private."

"Sheridan. Each time I reach into your mind I damage you. You already have so little time left. Do not fight me. You will not survive it."

"I'm not telling you anything. I came here..."

He never finished his sentence. The invasion of his mind began again, burning agonizing trailers along his neural pathways. Sheridan press his hands to his eyes, trying to crawl away, trying to bury his head between his knees, trying to escape the torture any way he could. The Vorlon found the memory of Kosh, an intimate encounter in Sheridan's quarters, the last time they'd touched as lovers. When he pulled out he was both disgusted and triumphant at once.

"He took you... physically."

Sheridan looked out through the haze of pain. His breathing was hard, uneven, there were tears rolling down his face that he hadn't been able to keep in check. Through clenched teeth he said, "Get off my station you bastard. Leave or I swear I'll remove you myself, whatever it takes."

The Vorlon...laughed? That's what it sounded like, although he had no comparison, he didn't know Vorlons could laugh.

"You are not strong enough."

"I'll show you how strong I am."

"No. I will show you how weak you are."

Sheridan was thrown back bodily against the wall, his eyes closed of their own will, but stayed shut, unable to open against the force emanating from the Vorlon. He heard the familiar sound of a Vorlon leaving it's encounter suit, and in the next moment he was hit by a blow to the back of the head. He collapsed to the floor, darkness creeping over him as he fought to stay conscious.

"We are all Kosh," he heard, "we all share."

John felt a cold _something_ wrap around his left wrist and pull his hand round, his arm pinned behind him as he lay on his stomach. His right arm was also pulled back, his wrists tied by some winding force. He struggled against the bonds, but it was no good, the Vorlon had him securing bound, and now it was doing something else. He heard a tearing sound, then felt the cold air on his bare buttocks.

The Vorlon was a twisting coldness around his thighs as it gripped his genitals with one tendril and used thin 'fingers' to open his ass-cheeks. John screamed at the violation, writhing on the floor, only his hands and eyes bound by the Vorlon; it seemed to want him free to struggle. They both knew it was a futile fight.

The Vorlon mutated one of its thin, finger-like tendrils into a thick, long protrusion, and positioned it against Sheridan's anus.

He stopped fighting then, knowing it would only make it worse. He thought about his times with Kosh - Kosh that loved him with such care and tenderness. He tried to relax. With one movement the Vorlon rammed into him; its tendril stayed wide and hard, not giving an inch, forcing Sheridan's body to open up in it's path.

A yell of pure agony filled the room, and then an eerie silence.

Sobs pulling at his soul, tears streaming down his cheeks, Sheridan looked up at the golden light in front of him.

Suddenly, painfully, the Vorlon pulled out of him, his bonds released him and he scrambled towards the exit. In the centre of the room, two naked Vorlons fought for the prize of Captain John J. Sheridan. Hypnotized, bundled close to the door, John watched as the white light faded back into the encounter suit. The golden light enveloped him and after a moment's shudder of pain, he relaxed. It was over.

For a long time he sat on the floor listening to the gentle song in his head, until he could stand to face the universe again.


fin
by elfin




Instant Feedback!  (No Flames Please)






email the author : back : Scrawlings



Whiskey by elfin
ROUND ROBIN

Delenn and Lennier sat side-by-side on the couch, staring at the bottle and the glass on the table in front of them.

"What did you call it again?"

"I think the phrase was 'slush-puppy'. I believe there is some sort of irony in making one with 50-year old Malt Whiskey. Captain Sheridan was definitely not amused."

Delenn smiled, "There is a lot that Captain Sheridan finds 'unamusing'." She reached forward to pick up the glass and nervously sniffed at the drink. "It contains alcohol, does it not?"

"That is correct, but apparently the 'slush' dampens the effects, rendering the liquid almost harmless to us."

"Almost?"

"According to Commander Ivanova, the effect is 'tingling'."

Cautiously, Delenn took a sip. The liquid did indeed leave a warm, fuzzy sensation in the throat. "I think Lennier, that I like this."

"Good. I am glad. Whatever makes you happy, makes me happy."


fin
elfin




Instant Feedback!  (No Flames Please)






email the author : back : Scrawlings



Steamer (a taste of things to come...)
by elfin

ROUND ROBIN III

Looking relaxed and causal in off-duty clothes, John Sheridan leant over the bar of the "Happy Daze" 'establishment', a sordid down-below place where lurkers tended to drink away their troubles.

But tonight things were different.

Tonight Sheridan had ordered the place closed for a "health and safety check" (which it definitely would have failed if the check had been for real.); there were only two clientele in the place, and he had agreed to play barman, partly as a favour owed, partly cos he'd been in a similar position only weeks before, and had himself been rescued by the man who'd become his lover.

Marcus and Lennier sat down on their bar-stools, the small minbari looking nervous, yet excited. It had been several weeks since he'd confessed to Marcus of his 'sinful' thoughts about other men he came into contact with. Lennier did not make confessions, at least not of this kind, easily, and simply the act of telling Marcus had proved to the Ranger the ambassadorial aide was desperate. He'd have known that even if he hadn't read it in the alien's eyes.

Marcus knew something of the captain's growing relationship with Mr. Garibaldi, it wasn't a huge secret.

So he'd gone to Sheridan with a proposal, hoping the man would understand. John had done much more than understand, he'd suggested the bar and had offered to clear the place for one night. His role as barman, though, was out of interest, and a deeply-buried voyeuristic desire as much as anything else.

"Gentlemen," he dipped into the role easily, play-acting was something he was going to have to suggest to Michael, "can I interest either of you in a drink?"

Marcus pointed to an unmarked bottle on the second shelf, containing dark-brown liquid. Sheridan poured him a glass, left the bottle beside him and turned to Lennier, "And for you sir?"

"A dry Steamer, with ice, thank you."

Sheridan made up the drink in silence, placed it before the minbari, then settled back into the shadows of the bar, to watch.

The alcohol, in the drink Lennier had asked for, was not of a staggering amount, but the effect was incredible. Marcus read the change in the minbari's eyes as he swallowed the contents of his own glass in two gulps; friendly warmth was suddenly replaced by greedy desire, and the transformation was reflected through his entire body as he turned to where Marcus was sitting.

This part had been discussed, Lennier had warned him, and the Ranger was prepared for an out-of-control minbari. But he wasn't ready for the onslaught as Lennier took his collar, bunched it into his fist and dragged him bodily off the stool, throwing him onto one of the padded corner-seats against the side wall. Marcus reached up, trying to regain some control of the situation, when Lennier's mouth came down forcefully onto his own. A small but strong tongue pushed its way between his lips, brushing against teeth until Marcus yielded, and met it with his own tongue in a blistering wet dance.

The smaller minbari had wriggled onto Marcus's lap; the ranger could feel Lennier's weight looming over him, could also feel a hard and very pronounced erection pressing into his own groin, and up against his stomach. He swallowed hard as he realized how big minbari sex organs must be. And suddenly he wasn't doing this just for Lennier's benefit.

When Lennier broke the kiss, Marcus found he had already disrobed the top half of his body, and his nimble fingers were now working at Marcus's own clothing. The Ranger ran two palms over Lennier's nipples, remembering briefly that it was supposed to be him showing the minbari what to do, not the other way around. But, he had to concede, when a strong hand pressed into his groin, Lennier seemed to be getting along fine by instinct alone.

Up to now, Lennier had been silent, and Marcus had found himself attempting to suppress his own cries of pleasure and surprise, but when his trousers were unfastened, loosened, and a very capable hand was pushed inside, he stopped trying to keep quiet, he couldn't hold back any longer.

It had been so long, and there had been too many unheeded fantasies about Susan. Just to feel another's fingers skillfully playing with his cock made him groan; he arched his lower back, pushing against roaming finger-tips and a firm hand.

He reached out, clutching for Lennier's body, but the minbari had moved back and was standing, leaning over him. Marcus's finger-nails ended up clawing at the cheap, dirty plastic coverings on the seats. Smiling at his obvious success, Lennier moved his hands to the waistband of the Ranger's trousers and yanked them down suddenly. Marcus watched, almost entranced as Lennier sank to his knees to remove the clothing from over his ankles. From that position he parted Marcus's legs and reached up to cup his balls in one hand. The Ranger's eyes closed, his head fell back with an appreciative groan: somewhere deep inside him he knew he was the one supposed to be doing all the work, but one glass of low-alcohol-content Steamer had transformed the shy, quietly endearing minbari into a sexually adept lover, knowing exactly where to touch a human male and have the best possible effect.

Lennier teased Marcus's sensitive testicles for a while, unable to stop the thought entering his head about the small size of human sex organs. After a time, he moved his fingers back and down, parting his ass-cheeks and searching for entrance to Marcus's body. When he found what he was looking for he did not push further, but removed his hands from the human body and began to take off his own trousers.

Marcus's eyes flickered open when he heard a quiet gasp from the shadows behind the bar. he was briefly reminded that the station's beloved captain was watching this whole, torrid scene, obviously with some interest. It was a brief thought, pushed from his mind when he saw Lennier standing naked in front of him.

So minbari sex organs _were_ larger, and substantially longer. Lennier's cock was almost twice the height of Marcus's, thankfully he thought, not as thick. Lennier moved closer to him, positioning himself over Marcus's lap, knees either side of his on the seating. Lennier slid his hands under Marcus's buttocks and easily lifted him, opening him with strong fingers and shifting his own cock until he, at least, was ready. Marcus sunk fingers into Lennier's arms as he was pushed down, forced open by the unyielding head of the long minbari cock. He cried out, nails drawing blood from Lennier's skin as his arse sank down until it was flush with Lennier's testicles. The minbari started to move, somehow thrusting in and out, maintaining his position in the awkward embrace.

The intense feeling of being completely filled, the rhythmic rubbing of his tiny gland, his cock squashed between their bodies, swelling against his own belly; it all became unbearable very fast. He came over the two of them, feeling Lennier's climax join his own moments later.

Marcus sank down onto the seating, pulling his knees up as the warm afterglow of his orgasm enveloped him. Lennier was standing in front of him, wet with his own come, yet still as erect as he had been before. Marcus groaned, there was no way he could take anymore. he met the minbari's hungry eyes and shook his head.

Lennier turned to the shadows of the bar,

"Captain Sheridan, please, stop drooling and get out here..."

 

fin




Instant Feedback!  (No Flames Please)






email the author : back : Scrawlings