Screw Fate
by elfin
 

I. Prologue
 

“He said… we were the right people in the right place at the right time.”

“Yes.”

“I understand that I had to go through that for you to be sure about me.  But him too?”

“Yes.”

“And you really do expect him to… ‘fall’ for me?”

“Yes.”

Delenn turned to face the Vorlon, frustration and a little hope in her expression.

“And if he does not?”

“It is destiny.”

*

Michael Garibaldi leaned against the frame of the doorway and watched in silence for a moment or two.

Sheridan hadn’t yet noticed him, and it concerned the Chief of Security, sworn to protect the captain of Babylon 5, that he could have been a man with a PPG out to put a shot through Sheridan’s brain.

Then again, anyone could take a pot-shot at him anytime.  He had a dangerous role to play.  They all did.

Michael wondered if a bullet through the brain wasn’t the best way they could go.  There were certainly less appealing ones.

Still, he didn’t like the idea of anything happening to this man.

Sitting there, filling in reports, studying acetates, reading statistic after dull statistic, he looked bored out of his skull.

Michael was only starting to understand just some of the responsibility being placed onto those powerful shoulders.  It was too much for any one person to bare.

Michael pushed away from the doorframe.  “Hey.”

He smiled, his suspicions confirmed, when John started suddenly at that one word.

Then his face cracked into a smile.  “Michael.”  Garibaldi imagined he heard a certain pleasure in his spoken name.  “What’s up?”

“Nothin’.  Except you work too hard.”  He sauntered into the office, stepping up to Sheridan’s desk and touching the smooth surface with the tips of his index fingers.  “Susan and Stephen are meeting me at Erquharts in about… fifteen minutes ago.”  He tilted his head and flashed John one of his widest smiles.  “Thought I’d see if you were interested.”

Sheridan opened his mouth and stopped.

He’d been about to say that he had too much to do, too many things to deal with tonight.

But a memory prevented the words from coming out.  A memory almost exactly one year old of Garibaldi saying, ‘I don’t know you’.  Since then, they’d become friends.

A year ago, Michael wouldn’t have made this gesture, wouldn’t even have contemplated it.

John smiled and dropped his pen to the desk.  “Why the hell not?”

Michael was pleasantly surprised.  He stepped back and watching John come around the desk, he made an extravagant sweeping gesture with his arm, indicating the exit.

And he looked up at John’s face.

It held most playful expression he’d ever seen on an adult’s features. His breath caught for a single moment.

“Why, thank you, Michael.”

With a flourish as best he could manage in the stifling EarthForce uniform, John started out of the office.

Michael followed behind, myriad of thoughts vying for attention in his mind.
 

The office had been empty for three seconds when Delenn swept graciously in from the other entrance.

She too had come here with the sole intention of dragging John Sheridan away from his work.  She’d been so sure of herself that she’d booked a quiet table for two at a small Minbari restaurant in the cleanest area of Brown sector.

She was a little disturbed to find the paperwork was still there, in a mess on the desk, but that the station’s captain was not.

Frowning, she turned and left again, hoping to catch John in C&C or perhaps even his quarters.

*

Michael wiped the tears from his eyes and willed himself to stop laughing long enough to draw in much-needed oxygen.

He, John, Stephen and Susan were sitting around a small table in Earqharts.  Empty plates, that a couple of hours ago had borne snacks closely resembling old Earth bar snacks, were piled in squat, unstable towers in the centre of the table, ringed by empty jugs and glasses.

They were telling stories, each one more outrageously ridiculous than the last.  Sheridan had just regaled them with the tale of how his friend Jack Maynard had come by the name Stinky.  And how he in turn had been burdened with the nickname ‘Swamp Rat’ – or Swampy, as Jack tended to refer to him as when he sent messages.

Michael couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself so much.  Despite the tension all around them and the current climate they were working in, all four of them had kicked back tonight and relaxed.

The bar-staff were definitely hinting that it was time they closed up.  Michael checked his watch.  To his surprise it was twenty passed two in the morning.  They all had to be up at the crack of dawn.  If Babylon 5 had a dawn.

He pointed this out to the others who looked guiltily around to realize they were alone, apart from the staff standing around cleaning already spotless tables.  Rising, smiling apologetically to the staff, they left the bar, walking back to their quarters looking to all the station like a gang of conspiring school children.

Not that there were many people awake to catch them.

Susan’s quarters were close to Stephen’s, Michael’s close to John’s.  They split up at a fork in the corridor and the pairs bade one another good night.

They came to John’s door first.

Keying in his code, John glanced at Michael.  “Wanna come in for a coffee?”

The question was innocent enough.  But the look that arced between them in that instant definitely was not.

They were both aware of the old Earth connotations of that particular invitation, even if John had meant nothing by it.

They both smiled.  And then giggled.

Finally they were laughing.

“I, er….”  Michael swallowed, shaking his head.  “I should get some sleep.  I have to be in a certain staff meeting in four and a half hours.”

John nodded.  “Me too, now that you come to mention it.”  He held Michael’s chocolate gaze easily.  “G’night, Mike.”

His expression at that moment, the caress of his lips around the name….  It was breath taking.  Garibaldi tore his gaze from John’s, his eyes glancing off his captain’s lips.

“Sweet dreams, John.”

Taking a step back, Michael turned and headed off toward his own quarters, only once looking back.

* * *

fin part 1