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In dreams and in life, nothing is impossible

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"If this was my last day in the universe, I would sooo want to know about the Koshs!" Stephen suddenly blurted out.


"Stephen!" Susan groaned. "Can't you just forget about work for just a minute! You know this was the point here. And if you don't behave and take another one of those beautiful drinks, I'll toss you out of here in a heartbeat!"


Marcus wasn't sure if Susan would even find the door to kick Stephen out since her speech was already quite slurred and her coordination was way off. He had to know because half of the vodka she had just tried to poor into Stephen's glass had landed on his sleeve. He felt a giggle bubble up and was barely able to suppress it. God, he was sooo on the way to totally wasted!


They had gotten together for an unofficial party. There hadn't been time to plan something more elaborate for New Year's Eve and none of them had felt comfortable to join in the festivities taking place at the Zocalo. So, Marcus sat in Susan's quarters with the Ice Queen herself, Michael, Stephen and several bottles of whatever poison they had brought along. The others had been already drunk a while back and had therefore been an endless source of Marcus' amusement. By now, even he was getting from slightly tipsy to totally drunk. But at the moment he was still blessedly somewhere in between. Quite an enjoyable state, mind you, made you forget how unpleasant the world really was. But then he had never been a morose drunk, more like happy to be happily drunk.


"You hear the woman! Never contradict Susan when she's drunk." Michael exclaimed.  "…and otherwise," Michael added as in afterthought.


"Right," Marcus felt the need to confirm.


"Hey! It still talks!" Michael crowed. "And there I thought, that the cat got your tongue!" And suddenly Marcus found himself in a headlock getting his hair messed up even more than it probably was already.


Uh, well…That was one of the strange things concerning alcohol and him: although his mind raced he usually lost the desire to speak. He somehow was content not speaking. Like right now. 


"Since you decided to join the conversation again: What would you do if this was your last night?"


"Or who!" Stephen chimed in.


Yeah, always the silent, innocent ones with the nosiest suggestions. But somehow the question wasn't as innocent anymore in his own mind.


Because it was Neroon that came at once to his thoughts. Marcus had long become used that Neroon was never far from his thoughts. At the beginning it had been almost a shock when he found himself lost in thoughts about Neroon. But now… it was so familiar that he just allowed himself to follow the path his conscious or unconscious mind would walk.


What if they'd only had one night to be together? What would they do in this one and single night?


Well, not sleeping!


Maybe they would just talk, all night long. He was certain that there was enough they could be talking about, even things that didn't concern any war be it past or present.


Or they could do all kind of other things he longed for. Marcus hardly had been fixated on a person as he had become on Neroon. The Warrior fascinated him beyond the reasonable. He longed for another meeting with him, preferable alone. He wanted to know all about him, what he liked, and even more what he disliked. He wanted to find out more about the kind of humour Neroon had and he certainly wanted to hear more of that voice and this laughter. So deep and rich that Neroon speaking made him almost weak in the knees and hard and rigid in other regions.

Yes, Neroon made him hard. He was so full of desire when he imagined the other man – Minbari – that it was almost visible. The fire in Neroon's eyes when they had fought made Marcus think of totally different situations where he wanted to see a fire of such passion. Marcus was fairly sure that Neroon treated everything with the same kind of dedication as he devoted to their combat. Because that was a Minbari thing to do.


He wanted to feel Neroon, wanted to feel his hand on his body, his heat covering him from head to toe. He wanted to touch Neroon, to hold him close and being held close. He wanted to explore Neroon's body into the last nook and cranny. He wanted plain animalistic sex. He wanted sweet tender love.


He wanted Neroon. Point.


"Marcus!" Garibaldi nudged him slightly uncontrolled into the side. Oh, my, they were all so piss drunk! Even Marcus himself felt that he had had enough to make talking or standing a challenge. But his thoughts were still clear though not necessarily reasonable. Oh well.




My, Michael was certainly insistent!


"Come on, Marcus. Tell me, what would you do if you had just one more night?"


"Everything." Marcus finally said with a secret smile on his lips, having the vision of Neroon's answering smirk before his inner eye.


Suddenly, Marcus knew what he had to do. He jumped from his chair and rushed from Susan's quarters to his room and tried to establish a connection with the Warrior Caste's most respected – or feared – individual, with Alyt Neroon from the Star Riders.



The End