Author's Note: I normally don't write stories of this sort but I had joined this "contest" of sorts called Babficathon awhile ago on Live Journal and was volunteered to do a story with Lyta and Zak for "VeryLisa". I had five pairings to pick from and this was the most familiar to me, just a warning this was actually one of my very first suggestive romance fanfics. A huge thanks goes to Hobsonphile for being so kind and beta reading this for me!

The story takes place well after season 5 so for those who haven't seen it it may contain spoilers so you've been warned. Outside of that I own none of this, all belongs to JMS I was just borrowing them for a bit =)

Though not really necessary I've rated this PG just to be on the safe side.

The Photo

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Lyta sighed deeply, reflecting on the past as she stared at two small photos resting in her hands. It seemed like an eternity since she last set eyes on the station that she once called home. Even now, an eternity just didn't seem long enough. Babylon 5 held too many memories, most being ones she wanted to forget. Yet in her hands she held another: one of the few moments in her life when she thought she was truly alone, only to learn that she had a friend by her side.

The two small black and white photos contained a younger version of herself and Zack, both relaxed and smiling to the camera. It was an image always made her smile. She missed him. As simple as that and yet so much more complicated.

Studying the photo, her thoughts trail back to the day it was taken: just after the Shadow wars and right about the time they retook Earth from President Clark's fascist regime. Of course the telepath wars were also just beginning, even though at the time she wasn't aware of it. At the time the picture was taken, she was at the lowest point of her life, though one would never know by her expression. It was just another reminder that even in the darkest hour, there was always a small ray of light.

She could still remember how Zack had suggested going to the Museum of Earth History. He was sheepish and eager at the same time, a trait that she had come to see as his trademark. She couldn't remember it being for any special occasion outside an excuse just to get away from it all. She was reluctant at first. After all, it just seemed selfish and frivolant in light of the big picture. At the time, she didn't truly realize just how much she needed this break.

The museum itself she found quite fascinating, it was filled with strange ancient trinkets, most which were still functional. Since that day, she had long forgotten most of the items that were on display, but she would never forget the sight of Zack imitating Mr. Garibaldi's famous ride through the halls of Babylon 5. Of course the motorbike he used was a Kawasaki Ninja, while the museums was a 1997 Harley Davidson low rider, a large, heavyset bike that was the polar opposite of Garibaldi's sleek Ninja.

She could still see him pretending to ride the Harley in the same fashion one would ride a Ninja, while making motorbike "sounds". He looked so utterly ridiculous that she couldn't contain her laughter, which was soon joined in by his own.

The evening had gone by fast- almost too quick for her liking- and as their tour of the museum was drawing to a close, her eyes caught sight of a rather large and clunky looking machine. It was an old photo machine that was once a common sight in the old shopping malls on Earth. She couldn't resist the urge to partake in the nostalgia that came with the old photo booth and it took little to convince Zack clamber into the small-seated space. After a few minutes of silly faces and smiles, the final shot was taken. Climbing out of the booth, they waited impatiently as the small black and white memory of that evening was forever etched into film.

Stirring from her memories, a sad smile plays on Lyta's features as she closed her eyes. She wished there were a way she could step back into time and relive the evening again.

Zack always had an uncanny way of cheering her up and making her smile. It was something she had come to miss more and more as time passed. It wasn't that G'Kar was poor company; in truth he had proven to be a most insightful and dear friend. But during the lonely hours of night her mind would always wander to the memory of him.

She couldn't help but wonder how he was doing- if he still worked on Babylon 5 as head of security. She wondered if he still had the photos, or if he even remembered their evening at the museum. Naturally, she could always focus her mind on him and learn all she needed to know, but it just wasn't the same. She missed his laugh and the way his eyes would wrinkle when he smiled. The fact that he was the only one who was neither frightened nor intimidated by her. To Zack she was just Lyta Alexander, someone he enjoyed talking to and spending time with and in truth she had grown to love him for that. If only she had knew that then as she knew it now.

Lyta rose to her to her feet, carrying to the small photo to the small wooden box that held her more sentimental belongings. Placing it inside its velvety wrapping, she gently touched the photos edges, before slowly closing the lid.


After getting caught in the crossfire, he would forever walk with a limp, but it did little to slow him down as Zack neared the main museum doors. It was the one place on Babylon 5 where he could find solace- a place to escape to the past. Ever since Lyta left the station it had become a habit for him to visit museum. The doors were locked and the room's dark marking the museum was closed, as it usually is at this time of night. But being security did have its perks and this being his favorite time to visit, long after the regulars have left and the lights had gone out for the night. In the silence, he could almost hear her voice- could feel her presence as he wandered through the darkened exhibits.

This particular night is no different. Quietly he moved amongst the old displays and set-ups that were still operational, but frozen in time. They reminded him in some ways of a memory struggling not to be forgotten. He'd never a big fan of history, but he after learning Lyta was, it just seemed like the perfect idea to come here. Chuckling to himself he remembered how nervous he was when he asked her and just how elated he was when she accepted. Now he wondered if she knew just how much he cared about her. A slight smirk played on his features at that thought. Of course she had to have known. Even if she wasn't a telepath he had always been easy to read, like an open book, as the Chief would say.

At the thought of his old friend Michael, his eyes catch sight of the old motorcycle. He smiles slightly as in the back of his mind, he almost heard her laughter. How it made his heart melt to see her smile, to know that even for a short time he was able to help her forget, albeit briefly, from the stress and pain that she had experienced.

Slowly making his way back to the photo booth near the end of the exhibit, he can't help but pause at the sight. The machine looked even more worn out then it did when they first visited it.

Zack wondered if it still printed out pictures like it used to. Not that it mattered anymore, he thinks sadly to himself. She was dead- or so they said. But he knew better. It would take more then that. Still he couldn't help but wish there were some way he could know for sure; to see her again, and know she's alright and happy in her new life.

Slipping his hand into his pocket, he pulled out the two black and white photographs, sighing softly as he studied it for a moment. Gently touching their worn edges, he closed his eyes. Smiling slightly, almost feeling the ghosts of the past coming back to haunt him with her memory; all their conversations, their jokes, the silent moments of understanding that seemed to say more then words could ever express.

"How I miss you." He murmured softly. Opening his eyes, he folded the photo gently in half before slipping it back into his pocket. Pausing he took one more glance around the museum before slowly moving to the exit. Shutting the door and locking it quietly he left the ghosts of the past behind where unspoken whispers of the heart could remain undisturbed and untouched by time.