Title: Life Sentence

Author: Will Freeman

Email: jliberi@wells.edu

Pairing: Lyta/Delenn

Rating: R

Author's note: No copyright infringement intended to JMS or Babylonian Productions.

Byron.

Dead. Pain, loss. Had to leave, couldn't stay here, in this tomb of memories.

It wasn't the first night that Lyta's mind had prowled the corridors of Babylon 5 unnoticed. Unfocused, she could not bring herself to see the faces of the people she "passed", only wraith-like shadows and the emotions. The only time anyone could sense a disturbance was where she, in bitter rage would extinguish the fires of passion between couples. Nobody really wanted to report that to security, so as far as anyone knew, nothing was happening.

She was drunk again. As drunk as every night, her Vorlon-enhanced telepathic powers dampened in some ways, and freed in others, and without inhibition, she probed minds impersonally. The bored watchman being attracted by an alien stripper, the lonely desperation of that cat-like woman, her brother's woozy discombobulated thoughts, the bartenders memories of lost love. That woman's bewilderment as her latest lover's manhood was suddenly "bewitched", and they had nothing to do but lay in each other arms and wonder what happened.

Lyta's search was interrupted by a telepathic scream; Miss Alexander could feel herself moving through decks to see what had happened. No, it was nothing; just a Minbari telepath who had been surprised... surprised by entry at an odd hour during meditation. Drunk, Lyta couldn't see the face of the guest, but could feel his emotions with him. He reminded her of Byron, so noble, so willing to sacrifice, so loving. Like her, his love interest was dead to him, would never embrace him, love him back.

Lyta told herself that it was pity for this man which drove her to get out of bed, dress, and seek him. Her mind was locked on him, a missile that could not miss it's mark.

She arrived in a crowded bar only 15 minutes later, her target close, and nervous. This was not his place, he was uncomfortable. She sat at his table, oblivious as to who he had accompanied until she looked into his eyes.

Lennier.

Lyta smiled, said hello. Her new respect for him mixed with uneasiness. This was a colleague in the Shadow War, not the empty, desperate-for-love man she thought she had found.

She was attractive to Lennier, in some strange way. He didn't know why. It certainly wasn't her frailty, was it? Definitely not the fact that she looked like many of the other women here--rumpled low-cut clothes, bright red lipstick, every other blink was a flirtatious statement.

"I, uh," she stopped, thinking what to say. "I saw you here, and thought to myself, 'gee, you don't see too many Minbari here. I wonder what Lennier would do in a place like this.' "

"I would wonder the same about you. I'm waiting for somebody," he replied casually as possible.

Lyta could see into his mind now, very clearly. She walked through, careful not to disturb anything. Never been kissed, grew up in temple... serving others, never being served. Lyta felt more empathy for him then attraction, now. He wasn't like Byron; he was like her. Empty, with one word, one name on his mind, always. The name of an idealist, the name of the one he would do anything for. The name of the one.

Delenn.

She sat a few feet away, waiting. She had to talk to Lennier. Had to. Had to get him onto a White star, send him to the Centauri border. Who was that redheaded whore who sat at his table? Didn't matter, she left. Delenn wasn't sure if she was supposed to join him at his table, or he at hers. As she waited for Lennier to make eye contact, or anything, a man sat across from her, stopping her thoughts dead in their tracks. He said something, something very human. Something implying that he was an animal, and deserved only that much respect. Delenn turned down his 'offer', he grabbed her wrist. Lennier, like a knight in shining armor, here to rescue her. After that was taken care of, they talked, and with great pain, she led him to her conclusion, Ranger Lennier must go to the Centauri boarder.

She tried to sneak back to her quarters. There was a sudden heat, all through her. Not a new feeling to Delenn. She had lived in this warmth within the chrysalis. She felt it in the presence of Kosh and at Z'Ha'Dum when she held Miss Alexander's hand and tried to contact John. John,she felt so bad for sneaking behind his back. Behind her, she heard footsteps. She heard footsteps. Turning, it looked like a Vorlon. Sort of.

Lyta Alexander.

She was glowing, her gills were extended, her feet off the ground by an inch or two. "Wh- what?" That was all Delenn could manage to say. Her hand slipped into her mouth and she began to nibble on her perfect, moon-shaped nails.

"Don't be afraid," she said. It wasn't her voice, was it? Sort of like the voice of Kosh. It reminded Delenn, also, of Dukhat. And still, the voice was Lyta's. She examined Lyta from head to toe, a radiant angel. "May I?" Her words instantly meant something to Delenn, they meant that Lyta wanted to touch minds. Delenn was tired, stressed, and intimidated, but now reassured. She could trust Lyta, she always had relied on this telepath, who had done so much for Delenn's cause. So, there was no reason not to trust, her, right?

One mind, exploring two pasts. For all the hell the Vorlons had put Lyta through, there was this, a union stronger than any other, a union of the mind, hers and Delenn's. Together, they say it all:

The city of Tuzanor, beautiful crystal sculptures standing in a skyline at sunset, purples and blues reflecting through, Minbari everywhere. There was no tension between the castes on the night of a great feast. It was a celebration of Valen's arrival, and there was nothing to be had but good cheer. Delenn, sitting on her fathers shoulders, the safest place in the galaxy.

The city of Syria Planium, the Psi Corps' other head quarters. Lyta had been there briefly before she ran from the Corps. She hadn't seen much, nobody really did, but the walls of her mind were caving in to screams, telepaths in pain.

Pain? Nothing like the short transition from one species into hybridization. Delenn, semiconscious, feeling organs disintegrate, much to the protest of her nerves, and other ones grow-- squeezing agonizingly. The last light that she had seen was the triluminary, now the candles that Lennier had lit for her tortured her eyes. She was cold, so cold, blue scales over tender new skin. She had been reborn.

Reborn, like when Lyta, suspended in a watery tank, was flushed out, Vorlon "scientists" all around, helping her into a room, laying her onto something that was supposed to be a mattress. It was all pristine, it was all lonely. Their minds were silent, the whole world was cold that way. Lyta was naked, cold, lonely.

At least, she had been that way at the time, but now? Now she had someone with her, someone who felt her pain, someone all too willing to comfort her. Delenn hadn't been treated much better by the Vorlons. She, too, had been touched by them, and had seen her love killed in the name of a cause.

John.

Delenn felt a flicker of remorse as she realized that her husband lay alone in bed, though she had sneaked out to order Lennier to the front lines of the Alliance's most recent conflict. Now, well, now he did not hold the uppermost place in her heart, he who could put her through the hell of wondering, the guilt of driving him to his death, and casually return to acclaim after dying at Z'ha'Dum. She wanted only to comfort Lyta. Minds together, she manifested in that holding cell the Vorlons called a room. She manifested on equal grounds, naked. Delenn was fully Minbari in her memories and recollections, Lyta fully human.

She stood beside Lyta's bed for a moment, then wrapped her arms around the huddled human, lifting Lyta in front of her like a baby, the Minbari's superior strength returned to her. They wept on each other shoulders, and then it happened. They changed. Lyta's gills rose, her eyes turned into light, but she wasn't limited, as she had been before the Vorlons passed beyond The Rim. Her entire body became heat and light. Delenn's crest was suddenly covered in emerging hairs that grew,reaching to cover her neck and frame her face. Between her legs, they sprouted too, curly, dark hairs. She couldn't hold the woman in her arms any longer, she turned to sit on the bed provided, set Lyta down. There was no light but Lyta. Not only metaphorically, but in sight. She was, and no other.

Nervously, Delenn reached out and touched Lyta's shoulder. Her finger tips tingled with excitement, her whole body warming, though this had nothing to do with Vorlons. Lyta placed her hand on Delenn's side, and they drew each other down to the bed. Delenn's leg draped over Lyta's knees, her back curved gracefully, they were face to face, their breath mingling sensuously, awakening them like nothing before.

It seemed like an hour before their lips finally brushed against each other's, drawing each other closer. Lyta took charge, claiming Delenn as her own with an endless kiss. //This isn't fair,// Delenn thought, //You can breathe, and I can't!// she realized, of course, that though her breath should be in impassioned rushes, there was no need, it was all a dream anyway. There were no needs of the flesh, save the need to fulfill, and the need to be fulfilled.

They lay side by side, their breasts against each other, tracing along each other's skin, kissing again and again, so contented with foreplay that it seemed like they would never need to go further. That's when Delenn wondered what Lyta's gills would taste like. She began by placing her adventurous little tongue just under the first flap of skin, and tracing it all the way to where it met her alabaster neck. However, Delenn's tongue was far more adventurous than that, she kissed her way to the base of telepath's neck, drawing circles where Lyta's throat was tight, and her clavicles could be felt just below the skin. From there, Delenn toured downward, lingering between Lyta's breasts, and then suckling each one. She never heard a request, but Delenn could sense it, this was Lyta's mind too, after all. Of course, the Minbari do not rush anything, so Delenn took special care to stop, and kiss each inch of Lyta's taut abdomen, circling her belly botton with care.

Who knows how long it was, before Delenn pulled herself up, staring at the beautiful body of her companion, smiling in a knowing, teasing way, and then dropped herself to Lyta's knee. This was not a very stirring stimulus, though rather curious. Lyta was growing impatient, which only made Delenn move slower, up Lyta's thighs.

Lyta had raised herself, so that her tight little butt was several inches above the cot by the time her pubic hair tickled Delenn's nose. Her scent was strong, and she was glistening. Delenn slid her hands under Lyta's buttocks, to protect her face as Lyta tried to grind Delenn's warm tongue into her ready opening. Delenn would not allow this, of course, drawing several quick circles around Lyta's enlarged clitoris, and neglecting it again as her curious tongue moved around, at an agonizing pace.

At long last, the tongue that had made eloquent speeches was ready for something greater, and delved into the warmth of Lyta's vagina. She surveyed each detail of the flesh within, mapping it with her probing tongue as Lyta wriggled. At last, she locked her lips around the hardened nub of flesh above and broke the spell of Lyta's need.

As Lyta Alexander convulsed helplessly, Delenn could feel the waves of pleasure passing through her as well. She silently protested that Lyta was cheating...

Lyta smiled at Delenn, placed her hand on Delenn's cheek, and winked mischievously. Delenn knew that Lyta heard that, and that she had no intention of cheating. Lyta turned Delenn over, taking charge. Like an expert wrestler, she pinned Delenn to the cot by the shoulders, her own breasts dangling. She examined Delenn's body, its curves and its inherent beauty. At the first touch, Delenn's skin covered itself in goose bumps. Lyta playfully teased Delenn, //I have never seen a Minbari with gooseflesh.//

//Have you ever been this close to a Minbari before?//

//That explains it, then,// Lyta replied, silently smiling. Delenn could feel Lyta's lips curving as the gorgeous redhead teased Delenn's crest. Delenn lay still, grinning, the rose coloring from her flushed cheeks extending into the rough flesh covering the bones in the back of her head. She worked downward, across Delenn's shoulder, arm, finally, planting a single kiss on her lover's hand. She sat up, making Delenn wonder if Lyta was going to torture her as badly as she had been tortured. She quickly learned that answer was yes. Lyta picked up the other hand, held it a moment, kissed it, and began the trail of little smoochies back up Delenn's other arm. Lyta moved this trail between Delenn's breasts, where she became much more serious. Impassioned, she sucked on Delenn's hardened nipples, as if to draw them out further than nature intended, but Delenn just laid there smiling, as if she had died and gone to heaven. Hadn't she? This isolated "cell" with Lyta was all she needed, after all. Eternity would be too short of a sentence.

Lyta proved that she had no patience, however, skipping from here to Delenn's lower half, investigating Minbari anatomy. Not too different from humans, Delenn responded all too well to her playful actions, and within minutes, Delenn's bright pink privates were completely under Lyta's control.

Like some evil puppet master, she made Delenn moan with need, and then move off, kissing Delenn's thighs. At long last, she completed Delenn with her tongue, and they lay together, contented in each other's arms.

They stared at each other, unblinking, face to face, beautiful body against beautiful body. Delenn blinked.

They were in the corridor again, fully clothed, as if nothing had ever happened. Lyta smiled knowingly, and withdrew her hand from Delenn's own.

"What are you going to tell John?"

"I don't know. I guess, farewell. One can only have one true love, you know."

They gazed into each other's eyes, and gave a quick hug good-bye.