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“What is that?”
Upon hearing Delenn call out from his bedroom, John put down the trinkets he had been about to pack and joined her. As he recognized the object in question he winced. He should have remembered that one when accepting her help. Taking it from her he pretended he needed to take a good look to stall for time before answering, “That, um, … Susan gave it to me near the end of my first year on the station. Things weren’t going too well and–” He noticed her amused but also slightly impatient look and decided to get to the point. “It was meant to be a reminder that the impossible is possible.”
He had not actually answered her question and they both knew it. They also knew Delenn was anything but stupid. “It’s from the Black Star?” she asked.
He grimaced. Decidedly unsure about his wife’s emotions at this particular moment, he settled on a simple “Sorry?”
To his surprise Delenn answered with a soft smile. Shaking her head slightly in disbelief she said, “Susan has always been a better friend than diplomat.”
He chuckled. “True.”
“You miss her.”
His smile died away. “Yeah, I do. But it was probably for the best she missed out on that whole Byron thing.” He let out a deep breath, trying to chase the memories away for now. Leaving the station was proving to be hard enough as it was. Holding up the piece of shrapnel, he said, “I’m going to hand this over to Lochley so she can have it returned to the archives.”
“I wasn’t going to ask this of you. I’m sure we can find a suitable spot.”
“Suitable meaning buried five miles deep. If anyone on Minbar were to find this–” He shook his head. “I really don’t feel like tempting fate.”
Closing the remaining distance he put his hand on Delenn’s belly. Feeling giddiness replace the somber mood, he grinned at her. “Besides, we'll have our very own walking and talking reminder of the impossible being possible soon enough.”