#John and Delenn after dark

[themostpowerfulmagicofall]

This is all I do now apparently

[ddagent]

John Sheridan is a lonely man. A former soldier, John is now mayor of Babylon, a small, self-contained island located squarely between several major nations. It’s a tourist destination, an ideal spot for wanderers, and the perfect place for retired diplomats. 

Diplomats like Delenn Mir - formerly of the Minbari government. She arrives in Babylon, hoping for a fresh start. Her book store is a welcome reprieve from the big chains moving onto the island, even if the local residents are skittish about the Minbari woman and their war-hero mayor. 

But John finds himself smitten with Delenn. He finds himself walking along the beach most evenings in her company, lost in her. They talk for hours, about everything and nothing. After so many years of being lost in the dark, they are finally found. 

[queer-geordie-dyke]

#i feel A NOVEL about this scene#ugh#the way they look at each other#the way you can hear in her voice and see in her eyes that she would literally give him anything if she could#and how one last happy morning is all they have left#trying so hard to be normal in lives that are anything but#to steal happiness from something that would otherwise be heartbreaking#resisting darkness and choosing light till the very end#GOD THESE TWO#how tho#the pain AND the perfection of this is too much for me to handle#i am never not thinking of SIL#never#john x delenn#babylon 5#also#the way they fucked each other's brains out just after they said this#sorry not sorry#it happened#you know it and i know it#AND THE TEARS#i'm still crying via @themostpowerfulmagicofall

These tags 🙌🙌

Tomorrow is Sunday, Delenn. And I’m going out for a drive.

[susan-ivanovas]

(ship thing) Could I get a 11 and 12 and also 27 for Sheridan and Delenn? I know they're the main focus of Babylon 5 already but hnnnnnng they're so cute. . .

Of course! They’re the main focus for a reason and they’re adorable. ❤️

11. What do they hide from one another?

Ooh okay, got a sad one for you on this one. David Sheridan has his father’s eyes and spirit. Sometimes, Delenn looks at him as a wriggly, energetic two-year-old, as a frustratingly confident and charismatic ten-year-old, as a fourteen-year-old growing into his own, or a nineteen-year-old becoming the young man he was meant to be - all of the best and the worst parts of John and Delenn - and she just feels so inexplicably sad. Sheridan will get to see his son grow up, but he won’t be there for the most important moments of his adulthood. And while Delenn always expected she would outlive her husband, she didn’t expect it would come with this awful weight of knowing, of being able to see the storm coming and powerless to do anything about it. 

Sheridan, of course, is aware of his wife’s unease that grows more and more with each passing year. He feels this is his burden to bear for both of them. He’s made his peace with the twenty-year extension of his life; it could have been zero. He’s not afraid of what comes after given all he’s been through and seen. But he knows he’s going to be leaving a void Delenn will have to come to terms with alone when he goes. 

They find an uneasy peace not talking about the true extent the darkness of their pasts and the emptiness of their future weighs on their souls, especially in the later years. They prefer to think of things in terms of duty, of fate, of serene acceptance that the universe moves by its own design. They focus on the present, and they revel in adventure and beauty together. Neither one takes for granted the second chance they were given, and neither one regrets taking a chance on the great love of their life, even if it was all meant to be temporary in the end. 

But they both, always, imagined they would have more time. 

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

Overtly, Delenn has her courtship rituals she feels culturally obligated to follow when things start getting serious. Subtly, though, I think what changes for Delenn is internal - she starts to feel like she can really move on from her actions in the war. Here are two people from opposite sides of the war, both of them with massive body counts of the other’s people behind them for their roles in it, and yet, against ALL odds, they exist in this moment with each other, and they’re better by each other’s side. 

On Sheridan’s end, there’s a just-barely-noticeable uptick his incurable optimism and his puppy-dog eyes which are frequently turned in Delenn’s direction. In Steven Universe, there’s a scene where Steven sings a whole song about being excited for the future after getting a kiss on the cheek from a girl - it’s like that for Sheridan. He’s excited and happy, gosh damn it! He’s got someone to fight for and to come home to. 

27. Why do their friends get annoyed with them?

Sheridan and Delenn are “Team Bad Ideas” and when they’re together, they amplify each other’s most impulsive and valiant qualities. The longer they’re in a relationship, the more readily and staunchly they have each other’s backs. If Sheridan believes something is the best course of action, their mutual trust in each other is so great that Delenn is willing to put her faith behind the choice, too, even if she doesn’t completely understand it - and vice versa. This can be awesome, like when they’re making military decisions in a war with extremely complex moving parts. It can also be annoying in more lighthearted, day-to-day contexts. Ivanova or Garibaldi may be passionately arguing with peer-reviewed citations that Sheridan or Delenn is wrong about something trivial, but they never have any luck in calling on the other partner and saying, “Settle this for us!” 

I think Ivanova also responds like one of the younger generations when An Old is trying to use new slang whenever Delenn attempts to curse, or repeats Sheridan’s, “Abso-fraggin-lutely, dammit!” catchphrase. I imagine she’s like, “Oh, god. Stop. Please.” but privately it does make her smile. Sheridan just steps back, throws up his hands, and plays blameless, though after a point, he and Delenn are working together to have a little fun with Ivanova. Garibaldi definitely encourages it. Londo probably sneakily teaches her some better ones on the side. 

[douxreviews]

Babylon 5 - Series Review

"Now get the hell out of our galaxy."

J. Michael Straczynski’s Babylon 5 was the last, best hope for a rival sci-fi television franchise to challenge the dominance of Star Trek. It failed. And let’s be glad it did. Last thing we needed was another bloated franchise knocking out a never ending cycle of naff spin-offs. Instead let’s be thankful for what remains to this day as one of the finest sci-fi series ever made. But it did take some time before it became that.

[Warning: This review contains spoilers]

Season One - Signs and Portents

Straczynski envisioned the series as an epic novel for television told in five volumes with each episode being an individual chapter. JMS wanted to tell a universe changing saga of heroes and villains, epic battles and the rise and fall of empires. Something akin to Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, only in space with aliens instead of hobbits and on a limited television budget. Surprisingly, this didn’t turn out to be as impossible as it might have seemed.

The year was 2258. The name of the place was, duh, Babylon 5, a massive five-mile long space station built by humans after the devastating Earth/Minbari war -- a place where aliens could meet to talk out their differences. Straczynski presented us with a future that was a far cry from the optimistic utopia of Gene Roddenberry. Crime, poverty, corruption and prejudice still existed. The various races were constantly at each other’s throats. Many of the alien races felt genuinely extraterrestrial, not just a load of humanoids with bumpy foreheads and pointed ears, although the station did have its fair share of those.

B5 first aired in 1993 with the (not very good) feature length pilot ‘The Gathering’. A year later the first season began airing with ‘Midnight on the Firing Line’ on the now defunct PTEN network, the show’s home for its first four seasons. In truth the first season is not the series’ strongest. No doubt in an effort to not alienate a potential audience, the season is driven more by predominantly naff standalone episodes, than the show’s signature story arcs. These standalone tales were often just sub-Trek nonsense that did little to help B5 to stand out from its rivals. Nevertheless there was still some good to be found in amongst the crap. After all, as rubbish as ‘Mind War’ was, it still gave us Walter Koenig as that slippery Psi Cop Bester (still B5’s finest villain).

In the second half Straczynski gradually started to move away from alien of the week tripe like ‘TKO’, ‘Believers’ and ‘Infection’ and began to lay the foundations for the awesomeness that was to come in episodes like ‘And the Sky Full of Stars’, ‘Signs and Portents’ (the introduction of Mr Morden and the Shadows), the two-parter ‘A Voice in the Wilderness’ and ‘Babylon Squared’ in which the crew investigate the sudden and mysterious reappearance of the missing Babylon 4 station. The big season finale ‘Chrysalis’ is a veritable congregation of ‘holy shit, did they just do that?’ moments as earth shattering cliff-hanger follows earth shattering cliff-hanger. Sinclair’s final lament “Nothing is the same anymore” couldn’t have been more appropriate.

At this early stage the characters were also something of a mixed bag to be sure. While G’Kar and Londo arrive practically fully formed (despite some rough early make-up effects) the rest of the cast all needed a little more work. Sinclair was too often stiff and po-faced while Ivanova had yet to develop something resembling a sense of humour. And I can’t be the only one who thought that Jerry Doyle looked like the product of a failed attempt to clone Bruce Willis?

The first season was certainly a patchy start for Babylon 5. Much of it hasn’t dated well. While they were groundbreaking and innovative at the time, much of the CGI effects now look rather primitive but still manage to stand up a lot better than most of the shows from the time (Space: Above and Beyond for example). The costumes and alien make up are all a little rough. And the dialogue constantly veers between clunky and cheesy. But the series potential was still there for all to see. By the second season the show would improve by leaps and bounds, culminating in some of the finest TV drama of the last 25 years.

Season Two - The Coming of Shadows

It was a year of change in season two of Babylon 5.

Due to illness, Michael O’Hare amicably agreed with creator J. Michael Straczynski to depart from the show. He was replaced by Bruce Boxleitner as the new station commander, Captain John J. Sheridan. The former Tron fitted in quite well on B5 and after a few episodes you’d easily be forgiven for thinking he’d been there the whole time.

The first episode ‘Point of Departure’ serves to introduce and establish Sheridan as the new station commander and show how he handles a crisis. It’s not until episode two ‘Revelations’ that JMS got around to resolving all the cliff-hangers from the previous season. Delenn came out of her cocoon with L'Oreal hair (because she’s worth it) and instantly caught Sheridan’s eye. Garibaldi woke from his coma to expose the man who shot him in the back. And G’Kar returned to the station with grave warnings about the darkness to come (that no one would listen to until it was too late).

Season two has the look and feel of a show more assured of its self, more confident in what it can accomplish. This was the year Babylon 5 stopped looking like just another Star Trek clone and became a small screen sci-fi epic to be reckoned with. There were still a number of rubbish standalone episodes such as ‘The Long Dark’ and ‘GROPOS’ to put up with, but they weren’t as bad as they had been in the first season. Besides, when you have episodes as good as the Hugo Award winning ‘The Coming of Shadows’, ‘In the Shadow of Z’ha’dum’ and ‘The Long Twilight Struggle’ what are a few duff ones here and there?

Walter Koenig returned as Bester in ‘A Race Through Dark Places’ and continued to make us forget he was ever Chekov. ‘And Now For a Word’ looked at life on the station from the perspective of a news program. Later in the season Lyta Alexander, not seen since the original pilot, would return in ‘Divided Loyalties’ to expose a sleeper agent on the station that had devastating consequences for Ivanova. And ‘Comes the Inquisitor’ sees the Vorlons test Delenn with the help of Jack the Ripper (no, seriously).

With the addition of Boxleitner the main cast was considerably stronger this season, albeit there were still a few redundant characters that needed to be gotten rid off such as Lt. Keffer, a hotshot fighter pilot character the network insisted that Straczynski add to the line up. But JMS was not one to let even an unwanted character go to waste and used Keffer’s fate to further along the Shadow War arc. The same could not be said for G’Kar’s aid, Na’Toth, who just sort’ve vanished after two episodes without anyone, her boss included, noticing.

It’s no small thing to say that Andreas Katsulas and Peter Jurasik were the series' best actors and this season they took their performances to another level. For most of the first season Londo was nothing more than the comic relief, but this season Londo’s story went in a much darker direction as he grew closer and closer to Mr. Morden and his ‘associates’. Similarly as Londo fell further into darkness G’Kar began his long and painful journey towards redemption and spiritual enlightenment.

The season finale ‘The Fall of Night’ managed to end the season on a suitably downbeat note, but lacked the universe shacking impact of ‘Chrysalis’. While the future looked bleak for the characters the show’s future looked ever brighter. With the flaws and weakness of the first season overcome Babylon 5 would continue from this point to go from strength to strength.

Season Three - Point of No Return

In my humble little opinion season three of Babylon 5 is one of the greatest seasons of television in the entire history of the medium. This was the absolute peak of Straczynski’s small screen space opera. Admittedly, it’s not 100% perfect. It was at this point that Straczynski started writing every single episode himself (an impressive achievement to be sure) so inevitable dreck like ‘Grey 17 is Missing’ gets sandwiched in between all the great stuff. And we were pretty much spoilt for choice with great stuff this season. After two years worth of build up this was the season where things finally started to pay off.

The season started quietly enough with a group of mostly standalone tales of varying quality and significance. But by the time we got to ‘Messages from Earth’ the fan was well and truly hit and hit hard. The entire status quo of the series was suddenly turned upside down and there would be no going back. Straczynski didn’t so much as jettison the reset button as completely obliterate it. ‘Point of No Return’ saw the Earth Alliance become a fascist dictatorship under President Clark forcing the crew of Babylon 5 to break away into an independent state. This all lead to the epic ‘Severed Dreams’ (another Hugo winner) in which our heroes fought to defend the station from Clark’s forces. From now on Sheridan and company were cut off from home on their own (and got some nifty new uniforms to boot).

The season settled down for a bit after that until the Shadow war finally kicked off in full. ‘Interludes and Examinations’ sees Kosh make a devastating sacrifice on Sheridan’s behalf. The two-parter ‘War Without End’ saw the return of Sinclair and finally revealed the true story behind the disappearance of Babylon 4. After the big battles of ‘Shadow Dancing’ everything comes to a head in the season finale as Sheridan goes with his not-so-dead wife, Anna, back to Z’ha’dum. They should really use this episode in media studies classes as an example of how to write a truly great season finale. It’s simply a breathtaking 45 minutes of television that (again, IMHO) no one has yet to come close to equalling or surpassing.

With so many big events jostling for screen time JMS wisely doesn’t let the characterisation get lost in amongst the explosions. Sheridan and Delenn kept making gooey eyes at each other. Ranger Marcus Cole arrived on the station and wasted no time hitting on Ivanova. G’Kar finally found inner peace and a new purpose in life. Franklin struggled with drug addiction and resigned. And Londo’s decent into darkness continued despite his best efforts to escape his destiny.

Season three was the middle chapter of Babylon 5 and the point in which it got seriously worse for our heroes before it could eventually get any better. Creatively the show was riding on a high. From the acting to the special effects everything was at its absolute best. Sadly the show would never be this good again. Outside factors would eventually derail Straczynski’s carefully constructed five-year-plan. But season three still stands as a shinning beacon of everything that was, and still is, great about Babylon 5.

Season Four - No Surrender, No Retreat

So much for best laid plans, eh?

When he first conceived of Babylon 5, J. Michael Straczynski had a definitive five year plan for the series. By the fourth season that plan was in serious danger of falling apart. The Prime Time Entertainment Network, the series’ home from day one, was not long for this world and as such the future of the series was uncertain. Fearing that his show would be cancelled before he could conclude the story, Straczynski went in to emergency damage control and started wrapping up the all major storylines far earlier than he’d initially planned. As a result season four is the most densely packed season of the show’s entire run, as barely a single episode is wasted in Straczynski’s mad rush to bring his story to what seemed at the time to be a premature end.

After nearly three years of planning and build up, the Shadow War, the very driving force of the entire series, was over in the space of just six episodes. The whole thing raced to an underwhelming conclusion that basically amounted to nothing more than Sheridan telling the Shadows and Vorlons off for being naughty and sending them to their rooms without any supper for the rest of eternity. Babylon 5 was the first notable sci-fi series to start using extensive story arcs (something that’s practically the norm nowadays) but it was also the first to bring its story arcs to a disappointing resolution (something else that's practically the norm nowadays).

With that major arc out of the way Straczynski got to work setting up the Drakh threat, built up the growing conflict between Sheridan and Garibaldi, dashed through a Minbari civil war in record speed before finally kicking off the war against President Clark’s fascist government in ‘No Surrender, No Retreat’. The conclusion of the Shadow arc might’ve been a letdown but the Earth civil war was Babylon 5 at its absolute best. Only problem was that it was over almost as quickly as it had started. Originally the plan was for the Earth conflict to be carried over into the fifth season with the fourth season ending with Garibaldi’s betrayal and Sheridan’s capture. But with the show’s future in doubt everything was wrapped up with ‘Endgame’ and ‘Raising Star’. Straczynski was all ready to end the series then and there, but when cable network TNT agreed at the last minute to finance a full fifth season the final episode 'Sleeping in Light' was pushed back a year and a new season finale was quickly shot on the cheap.

Despite it's ups and downs season four is still a strong season. Although there are no Hugo winners, there are still several standout episodes, most notably Sheridan’s brutal interrogation in 'Intersections in Real Time'. The acting was excellent across the board this season, but if there’s a single standout star without a doubt it’s Jerry Doyle. Straczynski sent Garibaldi to hell and back this season and Doyle rose to the challenge with gusto. Sadly this would be the final season for Susan Ivanova as a contract dispute would prevent Claudia Christian returning for the fifth season. With no time to shoot a proper goodbye scene her departure is clumsily handled in voiceover, a disappointing exit for one of science fiction's finest heroines.

Season Five - The Wheel of Fire

The last minute renewal for Babylon 5 was something of a mixed blessing. On one hand it meant that the show would continue and J. Michael Straczynski would now be able to complete his much talked about five-year-plan. But since Straczynski had wrapped up almost every single significant plot thread during the previous season he was now stumped about what to do next. Sure, he had a lot of great stuff with Londo planned, but that didn’t get going until towards the end of the season. So what the hell was he going to do until then?

Straczynski had twenty-one episodes to fill up and barely enough story material to cover a quarter of the season. Rather than relinquish some creative control by bringing in a load of new writers and some fresh ideas, Straczynski continued to write virtually every single episode himself even though it was clear by this point that he’d reached his burnout stage. Granted, the only time he did allow someone else to write an episode it resulted in Neil Gaiman’s dreary ‘Day of the Dead’ but that's still no excuse for not sharing your toys, Joe. Actually, in many ways the series came a full circle with season five as Babylon 5 went back to the sort standalone filler dreck everyone thought we’d seen the last of in season one. Worst offender being the abysmal Tom Stoppard homage ‘A View from the Galley’ which looks at an attack on the station from the perspective of two repair workers who sadly, unlike Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, don’t end up dead at the end.

The lack of decent episodes wasn't the show’s only problem this season, as its previously strong characterization seemed to have vanished entirely. They might’ve looked the same, they might’ve even sounded the same, but these were not the same characters we’d been following faithfully over the last four years. Despite now being President of the Interstellar Alliance (with all the power and influence of a UN Secretary-General) Sheridan still stomps around the station like he owns the place becoming the type of character you’d rather punch in the face than follow into the jaws of hell. Delenn, meanwhile, has been relegated to the prestigious role of ‘her indoors’. Elsewhere, Garibaldi roamed aimlessly around the station in a futile search for a decent plot line, while Londo and G’Kar spend most of the season working on perfecting their buddy comedy routine. And with Claudia Christian gone (but sure as hell not forgotten) Tracy Scoggins was brought in to replace Ivanova as Captain Elizabeth Lockley, the station’s new commander and Sheridan’s ex-wife (huh?). Try as she might, it is difficult to take Scoggins seriously as a tough military leader.

Now that the Shadows were gone and President Clark had been overthrown there were no more enemies to fight and our heroes were all getting ready to live happily ever after. As a result virtually nothing happened for the majority of the season. The only significant event in the first half was a limp rebellion by Gap model telepaths lead by Byron, a walking personality black hole. The only upside to this arc was more focus on Patricia Tallman's underused Lyta Alexander and the always welcome return of Bester, who even gets his own episode this season, the disappointingly bland ‘The Corp Is Mother, The Corp is Father’. Once all the dull telepath malarkey is done with the season finally starts to pick up some much needed steam as the Interstellar Alliance goes to war with the Centauri. But even this conflict fails to provide the same kind of high drama and epic battles the show used to give us. Only the tragic conclusion of Londo’s story in ‘The Fall of Centauri Prime’ makes any kind of emotional impact.

The remaining episodes are all used for some last minute wrap up and a shed load of teary goodbye scenes to rival anything Peter Jackson could come up with. After everyone has gone their separate way Straczynski closes the book with ‘Sleeping in Light’ an elegant and beautiful epilogue to the series and one of the best series finales of all time. Although it did manage to end on a high note (notably with an episode left over from the previous year) overall season five is a disappointing dud.

Despite this less than grand farewell, Babylon 5 still remains one of the greatest sci-fi series ever produced. Admittedly it was something of a flawed masterpiece thanks to the occasional wooden acting, clunky dialogue, dodgy standalone episodes, cheap sets and a tendency to get lost up its own mythology. But with this show Straczynski created something truly unique, an epic science fiction novel for television with a definitive beginning, middle and end. Yeah, the beginning was a bit uneven and the end part didn’t work out as planned, but that middle section, boy, was that good.

Mark Greig has been writing for Doux Reviews since 2011.

[jenniferstolzer]

Babylon 5 Rewatch ep 0211: All Alone in the Night

Delenn is called before the Grey Council to discuss her status as Satai while Sheridan takes a routine fighter mission and is kidnapped by aliens in off-the-rack halloween masks. Also Ta’Lon is introduced. Have I mentioned I love Ta’Lon?

Things I love about All Alone In the Night

I love how devoted Lennier is to Delenn and how pleased with himself he is every time he can demonstrate it. She keeps trying to save him from her dark past and her dark future and he’s like “Nope. I’m your puppy. Lead on!” The grateful surprise he sees on her face is like cocaine. I’ve never seen him happier than when he’s defying her wishes in order to be a better acolyte.

The Streib is the grey alien looking race that abducts Sheridan. I believe they’re the same aliens that abduct Londo briefly in season 5. They’re probably also responsible for kidnapping earth’s cows and returning them to pasture with holes in them. 

Ta’Lon’s first appearance is with his sword (which I put on his back in my illustration even though he didn’t have it in the episode. He just looked naked without it) He was a pilot, which was cool :) And asked John to kill him so he wouldn’t continue to be used by the Streib. Then he got his ribs broken. Then in the hall he begged John to leave him so the Captain could escape. Stop trying to die, Ta’Lon. I choose to believe that he’s doing all he can not to cause pain to anyone else... I’m glad he decided to escape and be in the rest of the show >< He wasn’t supposed to be a recurring character originally, now he’s one of my favorites for what little screentime he gets.

Speaking of Alien side characters, Neroon is back! I like the gray council and the spooky way they conduct themselves. Its great to see these proud and well-rehearsed people coming apart and how it happens in stages. It’s also funny that Neroon’s appointment to the council throws Delenn into histerics b/c he’s warrior caste, and then later he switches allegiance so really, in the collapse of time, it’s not uneven at all! Except it is b/c Neroon is super pissed at the reggies. 

After being kicked off the council, Delenn comes back to B5 and learns Sheridan is in trouble. That’s when her fire is reignited. She’s like “Come back here with that. I’ve had a bad day and that’s mine.” I daresay she’s hoping for resistance so she can mess some assholes up. 

Things I like less about All Alone in the Night

After a great job of getting us to love random one-time characters in GROPOS, Ramirez is a ham-fisted job if ever I saw one. He’s introduced talking to top brass at the bar like they’ve known each other for years, and when he kicks it, Sheridan’s like “no, not Ramirez!” Like, we have no idea who he is, and the only personal detail we have about him is he’s a Dodgers fan. The difference between this ep and the last ep is that there are a lot of plots going on in this one. There were plots in the last one but they were smaller, on the station, and overlapped a little. This episode has us going to new places and seeing new and different things that were arguably more deserving of establishment and explanation than Ramirez’s rich backstory, but if you’re going to do that, don’t give Ramirez’s death this weight. He’s not a real character. You guys pretending you lost something does not make him a real character. It’s tragic that a guy died to save Sheridan, yes, and we can acknowledge the sacrifice without giving him this limp-wristed characterization and treating the audience like gullible fools.

it’s introduced at the very last moment that Sheridan has been spying on his command staff for this random general guy. This could have been a great premise for an episode all its own... is Sheridan trustworthy? He’s reporting on his staff behind their backs. But instead he’s like “I don’t like spying on them.” And general’s like “Shrug, then invite them into our conspiracy” and everyone shows up in their pjs and is like “yeah sure” It’s not a bad scene, but it feels a little rushed. 

[themostpowerfulmagicofall]

@emmynominatedmullet This one is for you <3

[ddagent]

CAKE, Delenn is really excited about a human ritual that's dependent on candles?

CAKE: Scientist John and his alien roommate Delenn It’s my Birthday! Prompt me things.

The phone rang just after three. Delenn, mesmerised by Jane Fonda on the television set, reluctantly picked up the cordless. “Hello?”

“Delenn, it’s me. Code 7R. We’ll be there around five. Everything set?”

Delenn nodded absentmindedly, still not used to such primitive forms of communication. “All set. I shall see you all shortly. Goodbye, Susan.”

The phone went dead. She was used to Susan’s abrupt ends to conversations ever since John had introduced them one month earlier. Delenn immediately placed it back in the cradle and began the final preparations for the others to arrive at her and John’s apartment. It was John’s birthday today, a concept that he had tried to explain to her over breakfast a few weeks before. Presents, cards, candles. Delenn had fixated on there being a Human ritual that finally had candles. On my birthday, my folks are taking me out to dinner. It’ll be early; I should be home around eight. Then we can celebrate together. They had celebrated briefly that morning, Delenn offering John a traditional Minbari gift on the day of one’s birth: a new item of clothing signalling renewal (a replacement sleep shirt), an offering to be placed at temple (an orange for the fruit bowl), and a task done to make one’s life easier.

Delenn and Susan had agreed that it was finally time for others to know about her.

Continue Reading Below or Read at AO3

As the hand moved around the antique grandfather clock, Delenn waited impatiently in the living space of the apartment. She then heard footsteps on the stairwell outside the apartment: four sets. Three raps on the door. Susan. “Delenn, it’s me. We’re coming in, okay?”

The front door eased open. Delenn stood, blinking against the sudden onslaught of daylight. Susan, Delenn’s friend, entered first. Then three men she knew only from the pictures John had shown her from the Observatory Christmas party. They stared, gormlessly, at Delenn until Susan slammed the door shut and clapped in front of their faces.

“Hey, idiots, we’re meant to be putting together John’s surprise party not gawking at Delenn. Michael, you’re getting the food ready. Stephen, you’re in charge of finding some decent music to play. Marcus, you’re decorating the roof. Delenn will answer one question from each of you but that is all. Got it?”

Three heads nodded. Michael was the first to raise his hand. “Have you seen Duck Dodgers?”

Delenn nodded, smiling widely. “John had to explain it to me several times but yes, I have seen it.”

Michael grinned. “Good. Want to help me in the kitchen?”

Before Delenn could respond, Susan quickly barked orders at the group and, together, they began putting together John’s surprise birthday party. Delenn worked for a while with Michael, the security guard at the Babylon Observatory. He dismayed at the contents of John’s cooling unit before filling the temperamental warming system with so-called ‘finger food’. Stephen stole her attention next; he was a doctor at the local hospital who had helped patch John and Michael up after the second Bester situation. He had lots of questions about her anatomy. In-between questions they played John’s vinyl, listening to Journey and Fleetwood Mac, before Susan asked for help stringing fairy lights up on the roof. Marcus, a science fiction writer with a blatant attraction to Susan was, in her own words, driving her to the brink of madness.

As night fell, Delenn stared at her new friends with a smile of sheer contentment. Yet, there was a piece of her new life missing.

“Shush – he’s coming!”

As John climbed up the fire escape, Susan plunged the rooftop into darkness. Delenn had left a note explaining to meet her on the roof – a private celebration after his family dinner. So, as he peered into the shadows, expecting her presence, Susan switched on the lights and illuminated the rooftop and all his friends. They all yelled surprise; Delenn doing her best to join in the chorus. John’s eyes fell upon her – no hat, no beanie, no scarf – and then Susan, Michael, Stephen and Marcus. He immediately turned to Susan, eyes ablaze, who responded with an eye-roll of her own.

“Bester keeps sniffing around; we need all the help we can get to keep Delenn under wraps. It’s okay.” The unspoken she’s okay lingered in the air.

Eventually, after John and Susan had an unspoken argument over being too protective, Michael slung an arm around John’s shoulders and dragged him into the party. “C’mon, Birthday Boy, let’s have some cake!”

As Stephen and Marcus prepared the three-layer orange cake that Michael had baked the day before, Susan started teasing John about how many candles she was going to put on. John, however, did not rise to her teasing. Instead, he was immediately drawn to her side, openly marvelling at the low-cut burgundy dress she had chosen for the occasion. John took both hands in his, staring delightedly at the way the velvet clung to her form, before his eyes reluctantly settled on hers.

“You look…gorgeous.” He swallowed. “You okay? They haven’t asked you too many questions, have they?”

Delenn shook her head. “Not at all. I admire the inquisitive nature of Humans. Although, you are still my favourite.”

“Good.” John drew Delenn into his side, wrapping an arm almost possessively around her waist. Delenn did not disapprove of such action; in fact, her hand lingered on the open collar of his shirt, toying with one of the buttons. He stared down at her and smiled. “Help me make a wish?”

Delenn wrinkled her nose. “A wish?”

“Yeah, a birthday wish.” John pointed to the approaching birthday cake, lit with a multitude of brightly coloured candles flickering against the tapestry of night. Their friends sang loudly, joyfully. “You make a wish and then you blow out the candles.”

“Curious. In our rituals, the extinguishing of a candle signals the end of something. Not a beginning.”

“Sometimes it can be both.” The cake was placed in front of them. “Delenn’s gonna help me blow them out. On three. One, two—”

They blew out the candles, accompanied by vigorous applause from their friends. John then swiped his finger through the orange icing – and was rewarded by a soft punch to his upper arm from Susan. Marcus began singing off-key to Fleetwood Mac and Stephen threatened him with a cheese and pineapple cocktail stick. Delenn merely watched and recited her wish over and over like a prayer. I wish to never go home.

[ddagent]

CARDS

CARDS: John and Delenn are rival spies It’s my Birthday! Prompt me things.

Delenn of Mir sat, notebook and pen in hand, at the back of a Bureau 5 staff briefing; Earth Alliance intelligence agents completely unaware that, in their midst, sat a Minbari spy. Oh, she had been careful; her accent was a little flatter, her clothes bland and unassuming. The glasses she wore added to her quiet, meek appearance. Her mission was simple: infiltrate Bureau 5 headquarters, collect any information possible, get out. If her first mission succeeded, she would move onto the second phase. Delenn was not as thrilled with that part.

But this – seeing the agents she had fought against in the field tipping sweetener into stale coffee and sighing at their lack of progress – was exhilarating.

Then, he entered.

John Sheridan. Starkiller. She had gone up against him four times so far – although they had never got this close to each other. His hair was dark; his cheeks closely shaved. Strands of hair fell across his forehead and Sheridan swept them away with ease. In front of him was a cup of coffee and a single orange. He began peeling it while his fellow agents streamed into the room. His method was precise; close clipped nails digging into the flesh, easing the peel away from the fruit. Delenn watched him peel the whole orange, fascinated. Everything about John Sheridan fascinated her. After all, he was her adversary.

“Hey, Agamemnon – I saw your girlfriend yesterday.”

John looked up from the segment of orange he was about to put in his mouth. He stared at the man – codename Juno – and shrugged. “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah, En-til-zha.” Delenn froze. She had not expected to hear her codename spoken aloud; nor was she entirely sure why this fellow agent referred to her as Starkiller’s girlfriend. While she would readily admit she found Sheridan attractive, their positions did not render him a suitable mate. “I saw her in Fresh Aire last night. Chased her for half a block before I lost her.”

Sheridan laughed. Delenn felt the urge, too. She had not been anywhere near downtown Geneva last night. “Well, Juno, I don’t know who you were chasing, but it certainly wasn’t Entil’Zha. Recent intelligence puts her in Brakir.”

Or right behind you. Still, the inferiority of the Earth intelligence network did not prove that John was a bad agent. Far from it. His report on a recent entanglement with a Minbari operative (Takari; she had been responsible with setting up Delenn’s cover) was detailed and John was able to get a sliver of information: “They’re looking to bring a high level Minbari operative into the country. Maybe Ingata. Could even be Valen’Tha.”

“Good, Agamemnon, good.” Their leader, General Hague, considered the information. “People, get in contact with your information brokers. I want to know who, I want to know how, I want to know when.” Entil’Zha, through a diplomatic passport, three days ago. “Our last order of business, we have two new administrative assistants with us. Both have high clearance so use them to type up your reports. I’m looking at you, Cortez. This is Emily Sandhurst and Dee Majors. Be polite, people.”

Emily Sandhurst was petite, blonde; she had a few cracks in her backstory that Takari intended to exploit when the time was right. Quite a few of the male agents flocked towards her. Delenn, instead, finished up the notes on her intelligence gathering. That she had not been immediately identified and hauled in for interrogation did suggest this plan had legs. Now all she had to do was report her findings.

“Hi. I’m John.”

Delenn slowly lifted her gaze from her notebook. All of Starkiller’s attention was squarely put upon her. “Hello.”

“I remember my first day; didn’t know what I was doing, could barely make it out of the secret entrance. If you need anything, just ask.” He swallowed, brushing a hand against the back of his neck. He was nervous. Dee Majors made him nervous. “I don’t know whether you have any lunch plans but there’s this great place across the street. As a welcome to the team lunch. With me, and—” His eyes darted for someone, a potential buffer. “—Susan. You may know her as Titan. What do you say?”

“It sounds wonderful.”

His eyes crinkled for a moment, as if his brain had been overwhelmed by déjà vu. He had heard her voice before. But any momentary suspicion was brushed away by her smile and soon John was escorting her to her desk. Coplann had been right. The Humans were easily infiltrated. That they could be so easily seduced however, time would tell.

Phase two would begin shortly.

[ddagent]

CAKE - I adore this AU 😊

CAKE: Scientist John and his alien roommate Delenn It’s my Birthday! Prompt me things.

For a moment after Delenn of Mir awoke, she was sure it would be to the surroundings of her quarters aboard the Valen’Tha, ready to begin yet another day of service to her people. The dreams – so vivid, so lucid – would fade with time. Yet, even in the vestiges of sleep, Delenn hoped his face would not fade. The handsome façade of her nocturnal rescuer was burned into her mind; the rasp of his voice echoed in her ears as her mind reluctantly sought the chimes of morning prayer.

They did not come.

Instead, Delenn of Mir awoke to nothing. No steady hum of the ship’s engines, of life support. Delenn of Mir woke on a…couch (that was the word he used before, yes, couch). The material was garish, lumpy; she had to re-arrange the cushions from the rest of her rescuer’s furniture to ensure it was safe enough to sleep upon. Even then, the position had left her tense and her muscles strained. Rising from the…couch, Delenn took in the rest of her immediate surroundings. She had not had the opportunity to catalogue her new environment the night before; her rescuer had smuggled her into his abode under the cover of nightfall, an attempt to protect her from the men in the darkness who bore such crude weaponry.

This was his home. John Sheridan’s home.

Continue Reading Below or Read at AO3

The…apartment consisted of four rooms, made from insufficient building material. The living area bore more uncomfortable furniture, none of which matched. There was a bookcase which Delenn stole to immediately. Most of the Minbari works of fiction and information were shared on tablets and data crystals – it was only truly sacred texts that were printed on paper. Delenn perused John Sheridan’s sacred texts: The Big Sleep, The Thin Man, The Shining. The spines were faded, rippled with use. Delenn smiled as she continued to explore his world. A small viewing screen sat upon a wooden table with poorly fashioned wheels; it was bulky, with two antennae rising from the rear. A set of cases sat upon the top. They bore names similar to the sacred texts: Eyewitness, The Evil Dead. The illustrations on that box, however, were unpleasant to the eye. Delenn immediately returned it to the pile.

“It’s a video tape.” Delenn turned. She had not heard John Sheridan stir. “A VHS? A movie? What do you guys do for entertainment on your world?”

Delenn understood few of John’s words. She understood less when faced with him in his nocturnal attire: a blue shirt made of soft material that cut high on his arms; trousers made of equally impractical material that offered an overt view of his muscular legs, particularly the muscles of his thigh. No Minbari would be so…bare in their apparel, unless they were conducting specific rituals. No Minbari would be so brazen in front of another unless they were with their mate. As they had just met the previous evening, Delenn made the assumption that Humans were much like the Centauri. Open. Brazen. Still, John Sheridan’s smile was so warm and welcoming that Delenn could not help but follow suit.  

“Let’s start over. Good morning, Delenn.” John accompanied his words with a sheepish wave. Ah, a greeting.  

Delenn responded with the sign of the triangle. “Sim’wa, John.”

“Are you hungry?” He mimed placing something in his mouth. “Food?”

“Etan.” Yes, she was…hungry. The events of the last few hours had left her system diminished. She would need to replenish. “Food…su’rahan?” Delenn swallowed. “Please?”

John beamed. “Sure. Let’s fix something up. This is the kitchen; you’re welcome to anything in here. Mi casa…” John’s face immediately crumpled; the jut of his hand coming to rest aggressively upon his forehead. “Dammit, Johnny, don’t introduce another language into this mess.”

Delenn perched herself upon one of the stools in the…kitchen and watched John busy himself in the cooling unit that hummed loudly. He produced two buhak…drinking glasses and immediately poured an orange liquid inside both. John offered one to her. The…orange juice was tangy but pleasant, cold yet substantial in its viscosity. John drained his glass before pouring himself another. He left his second abandoned as he presented her with a variety of options, each one clearly announced: cereal, chocolate cereal, milk, toast, fruit, leftover pizza.

“I may have some bacon at the back there; we can do bacon and eggs.” John ran a hand through the dark strands of his hair. He then turned to Delenn. “What do you usually eat? Uh, what etan do you usually have?” Delenn pointed to the…fruit that John had copious amounts of. Her rescuer beamed. “Excellent choice.”

Delenn slid from the stool and stood by John as he prepared their food. He washed and peeled and sliced with reverence, offering wedges and slices for her to try before adding to their feast. As he worked, Delenn told him – as best she could – about the fruit they had on Minbar. Although he, much like herself, only understood every third word, he was riveted.

It was a great shame that Delenn would not be staying long on this world. John’s company was pleasant. Very pleasant indeed.

[ddagent]

Fic prompt: Eyes 👀

“Eyes” Delenn/John Sheridan Delenn, John Sheridan, Susan Ivanova, Morden Alternate universe - canon divergence, beauty and the beast au, romance

After leaving the chrysalis, Ambassador Delenn is left with nothing of her former self. Despite the efforts of Doctor Franklin, her form is covered in a hard, grey crust. The only part of herself she recognises is her green eyes. Feeling as if the Universe is punishing her for her presumption, Delenn leaves her post and retreats to meditation in Down Below. No one looks at her strangely down there.

She first sees the new Captain from a distance. He is handsome, dedicated; Delenn would have liked to work with him. It is Kosh who brings him to her, beauty in the dark. While Sheridan has no idea who she is, he continually seeks her out, wanting her help and guidance where Kosh fails. It is only after Delenn rescues him from the Inquisitor, wanting to give her life for his, that the crust begins to crack.

[ddagent]

balloons? (maybe also with presents?)

BALLOONS: John and Delenn are secretly married // PRESENTS: John is a Girl Dad Birthday Promptathon!

The Agamemnon pulled into the dry dock around the Earth protectorate Minbar. As he watched the planet – what was left of it – on screen, John felt a familiar twist in his gut. No matter where they were, the Earth Alliance always had his ship dock here. A statement. A fuck you. A reminder that the Earth Alliance helped bring the mighty Minbari Federation to its knees. With a little help from some friends. John swallowed a decade worth of anger and disgust and focussed on getting his ship ready for repairs.

His XO turned to him. “You looking forward to some vacation days, Captain?”

“Oh, you bet. Dee’s here – we’re going to get another scan of the baby.”

A few of the technicians immediately joined the conversation, peppering John with questions about his wife, Dee, and their forthcoming child. After seeing more than his fair share of baby pictures, the ship was docked and his crew could disembark. A few family members were waiting to share in the handful of days’ leave. They wouldn’t head down to the planet – it was still too volatile; what was left of the Warrior Caste regularly engaged in acts of ‘terror’ against the Earth officials stationed in the southern hemisphere. John, himself, certainly wasn’t welcome. Neither was his wife, despite being born in Yedor.

Not that anyone knew that. “Dee!”

Delenn of Mir stood beside the large viewing platform overlooking her fallen home. John did not call her name again but strode towards her. As he approached, he noticed one hand cradling the swollen bump of their first child. Dark chestnut curls fell over her shoulders; green eyes, swept up in grief, immediately dissipated into a blank stare as an armed Earth Alliance official took her by the elbow. They know. They know who Delenn is. They know what we’re trying to do. But he merely pointed out her approaching husband and that blank expression melted into relief, joy, love.

“Hey, babe,” John greeted, pressing a kiss to her cheek as Delenn’s arms threw themselves around his neck. One hand pressed against the blade of his shoulder as the other continued to rest against the jut of her pregnant stomach. It was certainly more demonstrative than the typical displays of affection between her people; but then, Delenn had grown used to acting as a human over these last ten years. “How are my girls today?”

“Better now you’re here.” Delenn pressed a light kiss to his lips. “Your daughter’s been kicking all morning. I think she was eager to see her Daddy. Gerry called, by the way. He wants to talk to you about the house again.”

John shook his head good-naturedly. “Realtors.” G’Kar clearly had a message he wanted to impart about Z’ha’dum – but not with the Lieutenant lingering like a bad smell. “We’ll go over the floor plans again but first I need a shower. Thanks for keeping an eye on her, Lieutenant.”

“General Lefcourt insisted, Captain. There was an…incident; you’ll be briefed in your quarters. Until then, I’m to escort you and Doctor Sheridan everywhere.”

“I see.” Delenn pressed her chin against his chest and met his gaze; he knew exactly what she was thinking. Still, there would be time later for them to be themselves, without navy blue uniforms and adapted changeling nets. “Well, lead on, Lieutenant!”  

As they walked to their quarters, the Lieutenant mentioned he hadn’t been to Minbar since the end of the war. John and Delenn exchanged a look. The war was not over. Not for them.

[ddagent]

AU: Primary School Teachers

All the kids adore Mister Sheridan. The very first snack time in Year 1, when the little ones were super nervous about their first day, he ate a lemon whole to make them laugh. He always joins them for snack time and reads Paddington Bear on Friday afternoons - although he always asks Mister Garibaldi to help when they do cooking. 

All the kids adore Ms Mir. Her curious nature is infectious and the children always have a thousand questions that she answers with care and patience. She is calm, and kind, but Valen help any student who picks on her Year 3 children. On Fridays, while Mister Sheridan reads next door, the class have thinking time and meditate. Ms Mir enjoys listening to the sound of his voice. 

Mister Sheridan and Ms Mir adore each other. On a school trip to the observatory, the two sit together on the bus, sharing smiles and the occasional snack. In the dark, as their children learn about the Universe, John and Delenn hold hands; her head resting upon his shoulder. They’re apart when the lights come up.

Friday afternoons were usually a time of contemplation of the week before and meditation on the weekend to come. Unfortunately, a burst water pipe had left Year 3′s classroom with soggy exercise books and tearful children. They had, thankfully, been welcomed into the Year 1 classroom to dry off, Mister Sheridan offering Delenn his coat to ward off any chill from her damp hair and shirt. More than once, Delenn had caught a whiff of citrus from the fabric - a scent she so intrinsically associated with John. It made her smile. 

Across the classroom, John was smiling himself. Forty-three children were sitting by his feet, huddled next to poorly pushed back tables, as he read Old Bear, an Earther story about a perilous rescue of a beloved stuffed animal. Delenn watched, in just as much awe as the children, as John read to them aloud. He was as captivating as he was beautiful.

“—the end. Now, my class, I’d like you to draw something inspired by this story, okay? See if you can pick out any of the details. And Ms Mir’s class, I’d like you to write five sentences explaining what you liked about the story and if there was anything you didn’t like.” 

There was nothing Delenn did not like about John Sheridan, especially as he grinned at eager Sh’naal as she told him - in detail - how she was going to draw Old Bear and Bramwell Brown. Lennier, from Delenn’s class, was already working on his second sentence. She smiled encouragingly at him before joining John by his desk. 

“Thank you for taking us in.” 

“Any time, you know that.” John beamed. “It’s nice to have the company.” 

Delenn perched on the edge of John’s desk, not missing the way his gaze lingered on her form, the slight damp curl at the ends of her hair. Her eyes roamed, too, fixating on the tight knit of his jumper, the dimples in his cheeks. The world faded away until someone knocked over their water bottle and it was back to being Ms Mir and Mister Sheridan. Still - there was always after the bell. 

[ddagent]

“Real Love is Forever”

John/Delenn | Post-Canon | FR12 | 908 words In the end, Delenn of Mir disappeared quietly.

The opening and closing lines are from The Crow, added when this was part of a five times fic, and I could not bear to delete them as they fit the theme of this story so well. I have shamelessly been inspired by the end of Titanic. Happy reading!

People once believed that, when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can’t rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right.

In the end, Delenn of Mir disappeared quietly.

While she remained a symbol of the Interstellar Alliance, there was no longer a role for a one hundred-and forty-year-old Minbari. There was no station to visit on a farewell tour; no friends to invite to a last supper. Susan and Michael and Stephen had long passed beyond the veil. There were children, however, and grandchildren – and even great grandchildren! But upon her last visit with her family, she had recognised something in David’s eyes. He would pass beyond soon, to join his father. Delenn would not bury her son.

So, she made the decision to leave.

Continue Reading Below or Read at AO3

As far as her aides were concerned, she had departed in a small flyer on a quest involving Valen. She sought clarity in her final days; understanding where obedience would not do. It would cement her position as a religious figure among her people – a legacy that Delenn hoped would maintain the balance she had fought for, burned for. Some would wonder whether she would have travelled to Coriana VI. In truth, she had considered it. But that was a place for endings. She wanted to go back to the beginning.

The computer bleeped. “Approaching Epsilon 3.”

Babylon 5 had been gone for eighty years. Yet, there it stood. A beacon of light against the chasm of darkness. Delenn swallowed; her hand hesitating over the controls. Faith and reason warred within her. It was likely that her life support had become damaged as she had left hyperspace and this vision was merely a hallucination as she slipped closer to the veil. And yet – and yet. Her flyer drifted closer to the station. Swallowed whole, Delenn was dimly aware of the computer announcing docking procedures and allocated bays. Then, with an audible thump, Delenn’s flyer was docked on a station that had not existed in the lifetime of her grandchildren or great-grandchildren.

Delenn did not recall leaving the flyer. She had not changed out of her white robes, and yet her sleeves were pink, trimmed in blue. Her hands were unlined and she did not require the walking stick that she had used for many years now.

It was fitting, perhaps, that Marcus was the first to greet her. He had, after all, been the first to leave them. “Hello, Delenn. We’ve been waiting for you. We’d almost given up, to be honest. Mollari wanted to leave around 2300 but G’Kar talked him round.” He beamed at her. “Are you ready?”

“Is he here?”

Marcus’ eyes crinkled; he did not even have to question who he was. “He’s always been with you, Delenn. But, yes. He’s here.”

Together, Marcus and Delenn walked through the docking bay and into the empty arrivals area of Babylon 5. They continued to walk through the station; faces Delenn had not seen in so long stirring memories a century old. She turned with each passing soul – a word dying on her lips each time. There would be time, she knew, to talk to old friends about things that were, are, and yet to be. Now there would be nothing but time.

Somewhere on her journey, Marcus faded into the background. Her heart took her the rest of the way. Not to the Zen Garden, where they had spent many hours together. Nor to the Zocalo, where they had been reunited after John’s fall at Z’ha’dum. She had considered his quarters, or hers, or even Fresh Aire. But Delenn knew that this journey was not an ending. It was a beginning. Her heart took her back to the beginning.

Entering the Advisory Council chambers, Delenn found John sitting in his usual chair. He wore the Army of Light uniform he had left in all those years ago; the familiar creases and smiles of the man she had fallen in love with as they had begun their fight against the Shadows. She entered with no fanfare; no robe to hide behind. Just her heart. John rose, staring in disbelief and wonder as he had all those years ago. But unlike then, John crossed in front of the advisory table and gathered her up in his arms. Her hands mapped the line of his uniform; his fingers brushed a lone tear from her cheek.

“I–I can’t even describe how much I’ve missed you, Delenn.” John cupped her face in his hands and pressed his forehead lightly to hers. It seemed fitting that they shared her last breath. “Are you ready?”

She did not answer John in words. Instead, Delenn pressed her hand to the nape of his neck and brought him down for their first kiss in so many, many years. It was like the first time: full of passion yet almost as natural as taking a breath. Delenn could not bear to stop; did not care to stop. There was nothing to stop for. There were no battles to face; no crises to solve. Just eternity in his arms. As they paused to stare at the other, Delenn knew that John was thinking the same thing. Finally, I am home.

Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.

[ddagent]

INTO THE FIRE, hot chocolate

John/Delenn | Professor/Coffee Shop AU | FR12 | 1,775 words Professors Mir and Sheridan share a hot chocolate together one cold December afternoon.

Shortly before four, Professor Delenn Mir left the Humanities building in search of tea – and Professor Sheridan.

A few months before, she had been ahead of Professor Sheridan – John, as the barista scribbled on his takeaway cup – and he had been lamenting that the coffee machine at Babylon Brew, the campus coffee spot, was not working. Knowing full well the pain of marking undergraduate papers with little caffeine, Delenn had ordered both herself and Professor Sheridan a takeaway cup of sama le’a – orange tea. She had considered it a safe bet; Sheridan was well-known to have a bowlful of oranges on his desk for himself and any vitamin deprived students.

She had returned to Babylon Brew the next day to find that Sheridan had bought her a mocha with chocolate shavings.

Continue Reading Below or Read at AO3

So began their curious ritual. Every day, depending on who was done with their marking or classes first, they would order for the other. Delenn would order them tea; John, coffee. Occasionally they branched out into baked goods. After a particularly nasty meeting with the Dean of Students, Delenn had paid for two large iced lemon cookies to accompany John’s takeaway cup. A few weeks before, when Delenn had worked through lunch, John had paid for a sandwich to accompany her double espresso. So many coffees. So many cups of tea. Yet they had never once shared a drink together. It wasn’t for lack of trying: they stole moments together in corridors, after meetings. But John was working on a new book and Delenn had four doctoral students who were testing her patience.

So, four o’clock it was.

Today, Delenn swept across the quad with a smile on her face. Despite the rolling clouds beckoning in the early evening and the slight bite to the December air, Professor Mir couldn’t help but beam at any soul who walked past her. She was late today, which meant that John would be buying. Delenn could stand behind him in line; admire the broad line of his shoulders through the coat he wore, dark strands brushing the collar. She could stare openly at his warm smile towards the barista, the truly dreadful pun that would leave them both laughing in hearty embarrassment. Then Delenn could witness him stand at the counter, holding court as he waited for his name to be called. John wouldn’t check his phone. He would watch the coffee shop, gaze drifting from stranger to stranger until settling upon her. Their eyes would meet, heat pooling low in Delenn’s belly, as the world fell away.

Then John would offer his takeaway cup in salute and off into the cold he would go.

But as Delenn entered Babylon Brew that afternoon, she did not catch sight of John waiting ahead of her. Lips forming into a thin line, Delenn reluctantly joined the queue. Her eyes darted around the coffee shop, trying to find John in the throng of harassed students and caffeine deprived academics. But there was no infectious smile; no raspy laugh. Disappointment flooded through Delenn as she approached the counter. Perhaps I am earlier than I thought, she wondered, drawing upon the hope as she was called to the front. The peppermint tea, today, I think. With a slice of lemon drizzle cake.

“Professor Sheridan’s already been in,” announced the barista, quickly dashing all of Delenn’s hopes. “He bought you both a hot chocolate.”

Delenn nodded, offering a thin smile to the barista. “Thank you. I will wait—”

“—he’s over by the window.”

Her head jerked in the direction of the window overlooking the gardens; the view now cleared of departing students. There sat John. Coat off. Scarf abandoned. Cheeks slightly pink from the change in temperature. He raised his cup – a proper, porcelain cup – in her direction. There was a second mug in front of him. Two plates. An empty chair. Delenn barely thanked the barista again before she rushed to join John. He rose as she approached, pulling out her chair for her. Like this was a date. This was a date.

“I thought it was about time we actually sat down to drink,” John said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I was thinking the exact same thing.”

John’s grin grew impossibly wide. Delenn’s face split in two as she fumbled with the ties of her long coat, wrapped tight to ward off the winter chill. The coffee shop felt ridiculously warm – but perhaps that was just the presence of John so close; his heated touch as he helped remove her coat from her shoulders. Delenn felt his breath on the curve of her neck as his hands slid the wool from her form and draped it across the back of her chair. His gaze refused to leave hers as he re-took the seat opposite.

John gestured towards the two cups and plates. “I overheard you talking to the barista the other day that you’d never tried hot chocolate. Thought we should remedy that.” He pointed at the cup. “I went for whipped cream and chocolate shavings to give you the full hot chocolate experience. We also have some mince pies.”

Delenn stared curiously at the miniature pies placed in front of her, dusted in sugar with a holly leaf embossed atop the shortcrust pastry. “I have heard of these. They are the…the smaller form of the shepherd and the cottage?”

Her date stared, confused, before realisation sunk in. John shook his head good-naturedly. “No, no, it’s not like a shepherd or cottage pie. These have mincemeat in them.” Delenn raised an eyebrow. She thought that was the main ingredient in those previous pies. John just chuckled. “They used to have meat in them, but now they have dried fruit and spices – sometimes even a dash of brandy depending on who makes them. Grandma Sheridan used to get rid of half a bottle every Christmas.”

“I see.” Delenn lifted her fork to break the pastry into two. The filling seemed innocuous enough. Taking a tentative bite, she was surprised at the decadent flavours. The pastry was buttery and crumbled upon the plate; the filling was full of cinnamon and nutmeg. Delenn took another eager bite. “Despite your perplexing attitude towards naming, these are most agreeable.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” John took a bite of his own, using his fingers rather than a fork. Sugar dusted his fingertips; his dark shirt caught a few crumbs. He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “You’re from Minbar, aren’t you?” Delenn nodded. She had taught at the University of Tuzanor for several years before coming to Babylon. “I teach a few kids from Yedor. They were telling the class the other day about the Solstice celebrations. Do you have any foods that remind you of this time of year?”

Delenn nodded, thinking instantly of her father cooking on the second day of the Solstice celebrations; their home filled with the aroma of spiced nuts and fruits. “We have…parcels made out of very thin pastry, dusted in sugar, and filled with a filling of our choosing. Fruit, nuts, chocolate – they are made together, baked together, and given to someone we love.” A blush rose high on Delenn’s cheeks as she imagined making the kai’tan and offering one to John. “It is considered an important Solstice tradition.”

“They sound great. You’ll have to make some for me.” A pause. Eyes met across the table before their gaze quickly fell away. John cleared his throat. “And I can make some of Grandma Sheridan’s mince pies.”

The thought of exchanging recipes and traditions and words of affection filled Delenn with joy. She chased it with her first sip of hot chocolate. It was more bitter than she had expected; the dark chocolate shavings cutting through the wisp of cream that clung to her top lip. The drink itself was not overly sweet but rich in warmth. Across from her, John chuckled at the picture she made with a cream moustache. His hand reached out to wipe the foam from her face but he hesitated. Delenn angled her mouth closer to his outstretched fingers. A gentle thumb swept across her top lip, before lingering on the delicate skin. Delenn could not help it. She drew John’s thumb between her lips and sucked. His blue eyes widened at the contact; a sharp intake of breath lost in the rush of the coffee shop as afternoon classes finished.

No one noticed as Professor Sheridan leant over the table to press his lips against Professor Mirs. No one noticed the way he cradled her chin as his lips – sweet and bitter – caressed hers. It was only the splutter of the cappuccino machine that prevented Delenn’s tongue from exploring the taste of John even further.

“We should have a drink,” John said, drawing in a ragged breath as he returned to his seat.

“We are having a drink.”

“An alcoholic drink.”

Delenn leaned forward, relishing this game of linguistic misunderstandings and the frustration and arousal it summoned in John. “Minbari do not drink.”

“Dinner, then,” John put forward, leaning back and taking a victorious sip of hot chocolate. “I want to see you over candlelight, Delenn. I want to eat a meal with you that isn’t a sandwich or a slice of cake. I want to close down a restaurant talking about everything and nothing with you.” He lifted his cup once more to his lips. “Dinner.”

“Or breakfast.” Accompanied by a twinkle in her eye and a sultry tone, the offer of breakfast left John spluttering his hot chocolate all over his shirt. Grimacing, Delenn quickly offered him the handful of napkins from the table and the one over. “My apologies, John. I should not have said that.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he said, dabbing at his shirt. “Just thought all my Christmases had come at once, that’s all. Why don’t we start with dinner and see where the night takes us?”

Delenn beamed. “Sounds perfect.”

After John had mopped up his hot chocolate, the two finished their drinks and talked at great length about their respective festive traditions. As a group of students hovered nearby, wanting their table, John and Delenn took their cue to head out for the evening. They found themselves in a small bistro just off campus where John, indeed, got his wish to close down the place, the pair talking about anything and everything. As for Delenn, the next time John bought her coffee, it was early in the morning, from the coffee shop down the street from his home, while she waited in his bed.

It was the best cup yet.

[ddagent]

For your December promptathon: OBJECTS AT REST + kids ;)))

John/Delenn | Family Fluff | FR12 | 1,410 words John, reeling from a nightmare, centres himself in family life with Delenn and their three children.

We've been talking about John and Delenn having more children, and John being a girl dad, and this fic came out of those discussions. Happy reading!

(N.B.  The Minbari in this story has come from the *amazing* English-Minbari dictionary on jumpnow.)

No mercy. No fairness. No hope. No last minute escape. You’ve never escaped this room, Captain. You’re still there.

John Sheridan woke with a start, his heart hammering in his chest. A hand lingered around his throat, still feeling the restraints around his neck and wrist. The metallic tang of that room – the taste of his own blood – clung to the back of his throat. John dragged a hand through damp strands of hair and drew in breath after breath of cold air. You’re not there, John. You got out, you got out, you got out.

As if sensing his discomfort, Delenn stirred beside him. “John? Are you alright?”

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“Yeah, just—” Nightmares. Ones I don’t talk about. Like the ones you have about the Starfire Wheel. “—a bad dream. I think I’ll go for a walk.”

A warm hand brushed his arm; Delenn’s soft gaze staring up at him from the mound of pillows she lay upon. She understood the need to be alone after one of those ‘dreams’; the chance to centre oneself in the early morning air before John faded into Entil’Zha. Faded into Dad. Delenn squeezed his hand. “Don’t be gone too long. Take Aggie with you.”

“I will.” He kissed her temple, making sure to adjust the sheets around his wife’s form to keep her warm in his absence. “Love you.”  

“A'fel E'.”

Slipping out of the bed he had shared with Delenn for over twelve years now, John padded across the bedroom floor. He dressed quickly, stowed his denn’bok (a habit, a replacement for his ppg) on his hip and silently traversed the Presidential compound. John dodged dolls and model ships; stabbed his foot with a hair pin that should have been stowed away hours ago. He then made his way into the kitchen where Aggie, the Sheridan family golden retriever, was already bringing John her favourite toy.

John chuckled as he stroked her head. “Hey, Girl. Let’s get some fresh air.”

Outside the Presidential compound, John nodded to the two members of the Anla’shok on guard duty, Aggie trotting dutifully by his right side. The Rangers were used to the Sheridan Family Circus by now: President Delenn, Entil’Zha Sheridan, three children and a goddaughter that visited every few months, a giant golden retriever named after John’s favourite ship, and a gok that hissed at everyone apart from Della. ISN liked to do news reports every so often on the Sheridan family; Universe Today had even bribed someone to break into John’s parents’ home to steal pictures of their grandchildren. They claimed it was in the public interest to know about John, his children with Delenn. 

Public interest my ass, John thought as he threw Aggie’s ball into the shadows of the garden. My family are not sideshow attractions.

After a while grumbling to himself about damn reporters, Aggie led him back home. John drew in another deep breath before he crossed the threshold – he wasn’t Captain Sheridan here. Not Starkiller, not Traitor, not the One, not even Entil’Zha. He was just John and Dad. Two titles he would have happily traded the others for.

Sliding open the kitchen doors, John was quickly greeted with a hairbrush and a scowl. “It’s refusing to co-operate this morning.” His eldest daughter, Della, continued to scowl – more at the hairbrush than at him. “Dad? Please? You’re so much better than this than Mum.”

“Okay, okay. Sit at the counter. You want a braid, like yesterday?”

Della nodded. She sat at the kitchen counter, offering her back to John. He quickly grabbed her hairbrush and began threading it through the dark strands, making sure not to catch the bristles on the sensitive ridges of her bone crest. The movement of the brush through the ripple of her hair was almost therapeutic; Della relaxed as easily as her mother with John brushing her hair. He then began to plait the dark curls, drawing them tight so they wouldn’t come undone during denn’bok practice afterschool. After tying the braid with a green band, John pressed a kiss to his daughter’s cheek.

“There, sweetheart. All done.”

“Thanks, Dad. You want some juice?”

John laughed. “You ever know me to turn down juice?”

His daughter laughed – his laugh, almost like hearing an echo – and pointed an amused finger at him as she headed for the refrigerator. “Only when you have a fever of a hundred and three.”

As Della poured them both a glass of juice, the rest of the Sheridan of Mirs filtered through the kitchen. Delenn, already dressed and ready for a day of running the galaxy, pressed an eager kiss against his mouth before preparing two cups of tea. Her gaze stole to his on more than one occasion; John having to mouth I’m fine to his wife in order for the tension to leave her slight frame. David, John and Delenn’s eldest and only son, entered the kitchen yawning; his sleep shirt riding up – their son all limbs as he headed into his teenage years. He offered a sleepy wave to his father before he began elbowing his sister out of the way of the orange juice.

“Behave, you two,” John offered, sternly, as Delenn shot them an equally reproachful glare. “Is your sister up yet?”

It was at that point that Jadenn, John and Delenn’s youngest, tottered in. Like her sister, she had Delenn’s bone crest. All of them had her eyes. But Jadenn had John’s ears and dimples. She bloomed into a smile as John caught her around the waist and pulled her into his lap, wrapping her up in a big hug. “Morning, sweetheart.”

“Morning, Daddy. Can you do my hair this morning? And Susie’s? In a French braid?” Jadenn’s doll was thrust in John’s direction. A gift from Michael for Jadenn’s sixth birthday, it was a haunting tableau of glassy green eyes, off-centre mouth, and a glued-on bone crest that had fallen off on more than one occasion. The trauma of explaining to Jadenn that no, your crest will not fall off had been equal to the joy in watching Susan yell at Michael for having Jadenn name the devil doll after her.

Still, John did not want to do that doll’s hair. “You know, your mother has had long hair much longer than I have.” He tugged at the strands brushing the nape of his neck. “I used to have it much shorter than this.”

“But Dad,” David began, munching on a slice of toast smothered in jam. “You’ve had hair much longer than Mum.” He beamed down at his beloved mother, who was sipping tea with a smug expression that John suddenly yearned to kiss off her face. “And you’re so good at it.”

“It’s true, John. You did a wonderful job of my hair for the gala last week.”

John was being stared down by four Mirs. As Della handed him the hairbrush, he groaned. “You four don’t fight fair.”

“True.” As Delenn rose from the table to prepare their breakfast, she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. She then turned to Jadenn. “Neth’ai, perhaps your father can explain what he’s doing so you can prepare Susie’s hair, hmm?” That pleased both Jadenn and John – at least he and Delenn were on the same page about that bloody doll.

As John began brushing their youngest daughter’s hair, he felt the last embers of his dream extinguish. He was home, with his beautiful family and incredible wife, and he would be spending the day training recruits with the denn’bok before picking up his children with Aggie. Over, under, over, under. In, out, in, out. In front of him, John watched his daughter’s nimble fingers try and mimic his motions with Susie’s hair. David was reading a battered Hardy Boys paperback while sipping a cup of his mother’s favourite tea. Delenn was helping Della adjust her posture for the denn’bok; both falling into laughter as Della lost her footing and knocked over her glass of orange juice.  

Over, under, over, under. In front of him, a content Jadenn settled against his front. John tied off her French braid and held her close, smiling at his daughter’s confused expression at the state of Susie’s own braid.

In, out, in, out. All love. All light. All laughter. No need to escape; every day was an adventure. John survived Z’ha’dum, Mars, the Earth Alliance.

He was still here. And he was so damn happy.