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Delenn of Mir and John Sheridan
Peeping Tom G'Kar
The Narn had never attended a Human or Minbari wedding, and if Delenn of Mir and John Sheridan weren't the bride and groom, G'Kar would've had no interest in this particular wedding ceremony. But as it was, two of his dearest friends had just bonded themselves to one another in an age old practice, regardless of the culturally subjective rituals in which hearts, bodies, and souls became one, forever linked. And for that, G'Kar enjoyed the wedding and the little pieces of white rice the Humans jubilantly threw at the elated newlyweds.
Yet, as G'Kar moved with a purposeful swiftness uncharacteristic of many men his size, the unique wedding ceremony was the last thing on his mind. In fact, it was the post wedding ceremony this Narn was most interested. And it was his overwhelming curiosity for knowledge of different cultural practices that drew him to a particular room aboard White Star 9. At least that's what G'Kar's rational mind told himself.
Simple, Narn curiosity, no perversion, he assured himself. If Londo or Lennier could've done the same, he reasoned, they would've done so. But he was the only one with an artificial eye capable of sending images, within several feet of it, to his brain. Dr. Franklin never said the eye had to be used only while in G'Kar's eye socket. The intent may have been obvious or implied, but it was, after all, his eye and G'Kar could do with it as he pleased. And right now, the Narn ambassador wanted to give it a test drive, for the purpose of cultural understanding and collegiality, of course.
G'Kar made his way through the silent corridors while most of the ship's guests and crew were huddled together enjoying the wedding reception. He had seen Lennier slip out of the banquet room a few minutes earlier, having overheard his plans. G'Kar's window of opportunity was narrow, so he picked up his pace, his soft, booted feet on a cultural mission.
Just as G'Kar rounded a corner, he saw Lennier, loaded down with folders and two overnight bags.
"Mr. Lennier, allow me to assist you," he said, taking the two bags from the Minbari before he could protest or accept the offer.
"Well, thank you very much, Ambassador," Lennier said, keying in the door code. It cycled opened and Lennier walked in and, as planned, so did G'Kar.
The quarters reminded G'Kar of Delenn's back on Babylon 5 with its earth tone colors, angles, and of course, crystals and candles.
Lennier placed the items he still held in his arms on a glass table, in the living area, before proceeding to light several white candles. G'Kar watched the young man carefully as he methodically and carefully inspected each candle and decided upon the ideal placement. The placements seemed deliberate to G'Kar, but the meaning rang hollow for him. Minbaris never did anything without a reason or a ritual and Lennier was taking extra care as he prepared the room for the newlyweds.
"Where would you like for me to place these bags?" G'Kar asked, already moving to the bedroom area.
Lennier turned, gave G'Kar a considering look. For a moment, he thought Lennier would object to him entering Delenn's sacred abode. Yet, something flashed in the man's eyes as he took one step towards the bedroom then stopped, face dreary and stricken. The aide was frozen where he stood, looking past G'Kar and into the bedroom.
"I must light the candles in that room as well," Lennier said grimly, his mouth the only part of his body that seemed to be functioning properly. "But . . ."
"Why don't I do it for you," G'Kar said when the normally perfectly composed Minbari couldn't manage the rest of his sentence. "You finish out here," G'Kar helpfully suggested, "and I'll take the bags inside and light the candles within."
G'Kar took another move in the direction of the bedroom, watching for movement out of the corner of his eye. None came, Lennier still frozen by a demon only he could see. No matter, G'Kar was exactly where he wanted to be.
He waited a few seconds more once he entered the room fully, listening for Lennier to resume his duties. Having apparently recovered motor skills, G'Kar heard Lennier in the kitchenette, preparing tea from the smell of things.
He moved rapidly now, dropping the bags inside the closet and locating a small candle lighter on the nightstand. Gliding effortlessly through the room, G'Kar lit seven candles, placing them strategically around the room for maximum illumination. Illumination for himself not for the couple that would soon occupy the quarters, or to be more precise, the candles highlighted the angled bed in the center of the room. G'Kar removed his prosthetic eye and placed it on an ideally stationed dresser, facing the bed.
Mission completed, G'Kar could now enjoy the wedding reception and the after party, party.
The reception was still in full swing, the crew taking a much-earned respite. Yet, G'Kar had hurried from the festivities to find a quiet room aboard the White Star after spotting the couple-of-the -hour make obligatory thank yous and goodbyes to the well wishers. The departure was polite but swift, neither seeming too interested in the after wedding reception. This was the moment G'Kar had been waiting for and he didn't want to miss a minute.
G'Kar leaned back in a chair, his right red eye sparkling with anticipation, while the other was closed, the angry scar from the knife that was used to remove his left eye, running the length of his eyelid, a brutal reminder of days past. He snacked on uncooked rice, the hard, flavorless texture no match against his rough Narn pallet.
Rice in hand and body comfortably molded into the ergonomic chair, G'Kar closed his eyes—a contented smile looming. The smile, as well as his solitude, came crashing down before him when a horribly familiar voice rippled through the recycled air like a phaser shot to the brain.
"Ah, there you are, G'Kar," Londo said, bottle of champagne in one hand and a crystal wine glass in the other. "I wondered where you'd gotten off to in such a hurry."
Without waiting for an invitation, Londo made himself annoyingly relaxed in a chair only a few feet from G'Kar, smoothly gulping down the remnants of the smuggled alcoholic beverage with the relish only a Centauri could muster. They did enjoy their finely aged wine, G'Kar reflected. Although the Narn was convinced that a Centauri, even the Emperor, would drink the driest of ales if nothing else was available and no one looking to raise a perfectly plucked eyebrow in disgust.
G'Kar mostly ignored Londo, making the cursory nods and shakes of the head in all the right places, the irritating man rambling on at nausea about one insignificant point after another. G'Kar grunted more to himself than in response to some asinine statement made by Londo, the Sheridans having not yet appeared on his screen.
It had been almost an hour since they retired to their quarters. From the way they gazed into each other's eyes during the wedding, and their brief presence at the reception, G'Kar was sure they would waste no time consummating their marriage once they were alone and in Delenn's quarters. Yet, he waited, his artificial eye picking up only the waning glow of the candle. And now he had Londo to contend with and his incessant chatter.
First the questions about the rice he was munching on and now . . .
"As marriage ceremonies go, the humans are very strange indeed," Londo said, taking another healthy sip from his glass. "Still, they are quite a couple, aren't they?"
He paused, waiting for G'Kar to respond. "Yes, they are," was his curt reply.
Londo laughed, brown eyes glistening with mirth.
A shadow came into view and G'Kar stiffened. The moment was upon him. One shadow and then two moved into his purview. G'Kar squinted to focus as if he could control the artificial eye, his mind forgetting the horrible, painful loss, acting only on natural impulse.
Then he saw them, all smiling faces and entwined arms. Apparently, they hadn't been idle the last hour. Sheridan no longer wore his tuxedo jacket, cummerbund, or necktie. His white dress shirt was open from throat to waist, cuff links gone, and belt hanging on by the merest of loops.
And Delenn was anything but her normally immaculate self. The brilliant white and gold outer robe she wore during the ceremony was nowhere to be seen and neither was the white inner robe. From G'Kar's keen observation, Delenn wore what appeared to be a long, sleeveless undergarment. G'Kar had no idea what material it was made from, but it looked delicate and clung desperately to her slim, figure, as did John's hands that seemed wholly incapable of staying in one spot.
No, they definitely hadn't wasted any time. This was getting good, G'Kar thought, his prosthetic eye capturing the intimate moment in full color. Only thing missing, G'Kar lamented, was sound. Yes, sound would be nice, but he could make do. Narns could always make do.
Their silent kisses were fevered, open, hungry mouths chasing lips, tongue, pleasure. Delenn stripped John of his shirt, forcefully pulling it from his arms, allowing it to float to the floor forgotten, their lips never parting, never wavering, always moving, always seeking.
The way they moved, like a well choreographed dance, each knowing where the other would be, no wrong moves or missed cues, expertly timed executions, G'Kar could only wonder. Had they done this before? Had they stolen a few private moments between all the hell they'd been through? It wouldn't surprise him if they had, and they did deserve some happiness and pleasure in their lives amongst all the chaos.
Delenn's mouth moved to her husband's neck then chest, hands gripping solid muscles, teeth gently sinking into fair skin, followed by a curious tongue and seductive lips. John tightened his hold on her waist, lifting Delenn off her feet and into his arms. He held her there, her tiny feet dangling, arms secured around his neck, lips locked with his.
"Almost makes you wish that you could peek in on them . . ." Londo said, "see how it's going?"
G'Kar shifted in his chair, clearing his throat at the unintentionally accurate statement.
Catching G'Kar's discomfort and odd behavior, Londo gave his former foe a wily look, leaning into the table, bushy eyebrows suspiciously arched. "G'Kar, the artificial eye that Dr. Franklin gave you . . . where is it?
G'Kar turned to the future emperor of Centauri Prime, his left eyelid closed, socket empty, a shallow smirk playing across his long spotted chin and thin lips.
In stark contrast to their fiery kisses, John and Delenn slowly undressed each other, permanent, pleased smiles gracing their enraptured faces. Human and Minbari bodies were nothing like Narn's, G'Kar mused, but the two were obviously satisfied with what they'd unearthed. Yes, from the impatient way John lifted Delenn off her feet and placed her on the bed, he was most assuredly pleased.
G'Kar had no idea how anyone could mate on a bed at that angle and laughed when he saw Sheridan slide down the ramp, his wife securely positioned and looking amused. Red from embarrassment and frustration, John hoisted himself up and gave his new wife a rueful grin.
Delenn extended her hand, helping her husband as he fitted himself beside her. She whispered something in his ear and then kissed him, all humor forgotten. John made no further moves to test his balance on the Minbari bed, clearly content to allow his wife to lead.
And lead she did, straddling John with remarkable balance, strength, and dexterity. If G'Kar hadn't witnessed it for himself, he would've sworn such a position, at that angle, was impossible. But she managed, more than managed, her hips effortlessly twisting and turning, never losing rhythm or focus.
John held on tight for the ride, his petite jockey giving directions, setting the pace, and encouraging him on. And he responded like any stallion set free on an open plain. He bolted through the gate, galloping at a long, hard stride, hooves hitting the plush green carpet, accurate and smooth, eyes and nose wide, taking in the dazzling scenery meant only for him.
G'Kar tried his best to ignore Londo and his inquisitive glare, concentrating on the scene unfolding before his very . . . well, detachable eye.
Delenn spoke in John's ear and he slowly, very slowly lifted his upper torso, holding onto Delenn's hips. With her assistance, he maneuvered from under her without breaking their connection. With Delenn in his arms, John managed to stand. She spoke in his ear again, and John leaned forward and placed her against the angled bed, his body pressed hard against hers, his feet on the floor. Another quiet direction was given, and his right hand left Delenn's side, reached upward and found purchase on the edge of the bed.
And then they began again, loving each other, John able to sink deeper and deeper into his wife, her legs wrapped prudently around his waist, holding him to her.
G'Kar couldn't withhold the knowing smile that crept across his face, realizing that Minbaris were a deceptively sensual race of people. The angled bed was a brilliant device, like a wedge sex pillow Narns often used to enhance comfort and increase pleasure for both partners during lovemaking. Such an angle let's one achieve just the right position for the ultimate penetration. It enhances every oral performance, eases any anal expedition, and intensifies every single sensation. The angle is also ideal for extending the duration of any standard mating session.
It had never occurred to him or any other Narn to turn their boring, flat bed into a full body wedge. It was just like the Minbari to beat other races to this discovery and keep it to themselves, G'Kar concluded with more than a little envy and respect.
It took controlled strength, concentration, and balance to mate on a Minbari bed. It wasn't for the novice or faint of heart. But Sheridan seemed to be getting his sea legs under him, thrusting precisely and hard for maximum pleasure. The effectiveness of his on-the-spot training evident in his wife's silent cries.
Londo's babbling voice echoed cloyingly in G'Kar's ears, pulling some of his attention away from John, Delenn, and the angled bed.
"Tell me what's going on," Londo said, sliding his chair and plopping it next to his own, tongue snaking out and wetting his prying lips.
"If you must know," he started, and then the scene went black.
G'Kar blinked, trying to restore the image. Nothing. He blinked again and even gently slapped his left temple, and then his right for good measure. Still nothing. No John, no Delenn, no angled bed, nothing.
"They found the eye, didn't they?" Londo asked with a disapproving tisk.
G'Kar rolled his one good eye and started to stand. "Wait, I see something. Water? Spinning or twirling water, I think." He paused for a second, face contorted in confusion. "It's gone again. I can't see a thing."
Londo laughed outright and gathered his wine glass and the empty bottle of champagne. "Serves you right, G'Kar." Londo rose, claiming his jacket from the back of the chair first before moving in the direction of the door. "I guess you had better see one of the maintenance crew, my friend, if you ever want to see that missing eye of yours again. Or perhaps," Londo said laughing, "you'd like to explain to Dr. Franklin how you lost the eye he worked on for months to make especially for you."
"Maintenance?" G'Kar questioned, also rising.
Londo gave him another mocking Centauri laugh as the door slid open, and he took a step across the threshold. "That twirling, spinning water, you saw, G'Kar, was your eye being flushed down the toilet, just like your plan. Good luck," he sputtered, Londo's face beaming with satisfied amusement. "Thanks for a fun time. I can always count on a Narn to be the life of the party, especially when they pin the tail on their own asses."
And he too was gone, laughter ringing in G'Kar's ears.
Not one to dwell on his misfortune, G'Kar straightened, exited the room, and went in search of the ship's waste recycling unit. He was determined to find it on his own. A Narn might paddle through muck and mire to get what they wanted, but he'd be a Centauri slave before he'd confess that he'd spied on Ambassador Delenn of the Minbari Federation and her new husband, and lost his eye in the process. No, G'Kar wasn't interested in relaying that sorry story to anyone, especially not to one of Delenn's Rangers, or worse yet, to Lennier.
Sorry, couldn't resist this gapfiller any longer. Blame JMS for creating such a perverted image of G'Kar. I mean, hell, the man smuggled his eye into their boudoir and watched them . . .