Unrequited
Fandom:
Pairing: Ivanova/Franklin
Spoilers: Rising Star
Notes: For the LiveJournal Writer’s Choice “Lines” challenge.
Dedication: The timing of this is no coincidence, inspiration striking as it did while I was going through my B5 DVDs in the wake of the news of Richard Biggs’s passing. A wonderful man who left some wonderful memories behind… he will be missed.
Growing up in General Richard Franklin’s house, Stephen learned all about lines; those that could be blurred and those that couldn’t, and most importantly of all, those which could simply not be crossed.
When he became a doctor, he was glad of those lines, because they made his life easier, allowed him to follow a strict code of ethics, made his decision making easier.
Then he came to
Because while blurring, or downright crossing lines is accepted practice here, if he’s honest, it does bother him. However, unlike, he thinks, most of the rest of the command staff, the lines he blurs medically, politically, professionally, those aren’t the ones that bother him most. It’s the personal boundaries that are causing him sleepless nights, especially when it comes to one person in particular.
One woman in particular.
Stephen knows that there are a hundred good reasons why he shouldn’t find himself falling for Susan Ivanova. For one, they work together. For another, they’re friends, good friends, even if, occasionally, she can turn a look his way that makes him want to run away and hide, even if she could tear him apart with one hand tied behind her back. Theirs is the kind of friendship that comes along all too rarely, and the last thing he wants to do is screw that up. He’s never had much luck with relationships, hers is even worse, and neither of them want their private lives offered up to station gossip, which is exactly what would happen if anything were to happen between them.
There are so many lines that a relationship would cross, but that’s not the real reason why he doesn’t consider it.
The real reason is Marcus Cole, who fell in love with Susan at first sight, and has pursued her vigorously ever since. Marcus who is his friend, Marcus who, both drunk and sober, has regaled Stephen with tales of Susan’s finer attributes, in downright poetical language. Stephen’s not sure how Susan feels about Marcus – officially, scorn would be the word, but he thinks he sees something in her eyes when she thinks no-one is looking – but he, and the rest of the station knows how Marcus feels about Susan, and there’s no way he wants to get in the middle of that.
So he steps to the side, stays her friend, and says nothing.
Not even when he enters sickbay one dark day, finds her sobbing on the floor, sees Marcus’s covered body in the room beyond. He is a doctor, but one friend is beyond his help, so he turns to the other, sits down near her, lets her talk. He tells her that she shouldn’t feel guilty about the choice that Marcus made; doesn’t tell her about his own guilty secret, that while Marcus was his friend, while he’s going to miss him, he’s still glad that she’s going to be all right. He listens to her admit that she knew Marcus loved her, that she thought she saw in him everything she wanted, that she pushed him away because she was afraid, but he doesn’t admit his own feelings for her. “At least I should have boffed him just once,” she says, and he’s surprised at that, because it’s such a Marcus thing to say, and he calls her on it, pointing out that that would be one way to deal with unrequited love.
“All love is unrequited Stephen… all of it,” are her words to him, and he wants to tell her that she’s wrong.
He knows she’s not though, and lying to her is another line he won’t cross.
She crawls to him then, a tower of strength collapsing, leaning against him, leaning on him, and he’s never seen Susan like this before, never seen her need anyone. He wants to say the right thing, but he’s not sure what it is, so he just holds her, lets her cry in his arms, running his hand over her hair.
As he does so, the thought comes to him that this might be crossing a line somewhere, that it’s rather a more intimate gesture than is usual for them.
But it seems to calm her, quieten her sobs, and if it takes crossing a line to do that, then, for once, Stephen doesn’t care.