Looking at You, I Can Read Your Mind... Part 1/2 (Eye In the Sky part 2) by Galenn "Are you certain you want to do this, Mr. Gray?" Sinclair asked as he and Garibaldi walked the telepath down to the holding cells. "Yeah -- I mean it's not your fault he's like this," Garibaldi added. "It may not *be* my fault, but I still feel I have to do this. I have to let him know that we aren't all like Bester -- that we aren't all willing to tamper with other peoples' minds to get what we want." Garibaldi heaved a sigh and said, "I still think you're making a mistake." "Michael, that's enough," Sinclair said softly. "You can speak to the colonel," he told Gray, "but be careful. We'll be right outside, and I'm afraid we'll have to be monitoring, too. If he tries anything, though, we'll get you out of there before he can hurt you." "I don't really think he--" "He's dangerously unstable, Harriman," Garibaldi said. "You know what he almost did earlier, and from what my people said, he hasn't been exactly peaceful in the cell, either. And, you're the one who actually hurt him. Without Jeff there to focus his rage on, he may very easily try to take it out on you..." "I know," Gray admitted softly, "I'll be as careful as possible, and if anything goes wrong, believe me, you'll *know*." They stopped outside the appropriate cell, and Garibaldi keyed on the monitor. Colonel Ben Zayn lay on his bed, staring right at the securicam with eyes that seemed to burn right through the screen. He shuddered a little and glanced over at Gray, who did seem a little less certain about his plan. "You still want to go through with this?" Gray swallowed and nodded. Garibaldi shrugged and keyed the intercom then said, "Colonel, this is Security Chief Garibaldi. You have a visitor." Suddenly, Ben Zayn lurched upright and smiled, then asked, "Is it Commander Sinclair?" "No, Colonel, it's Harriman Gray," Garibaldi answered flatly. _Bastard..._ The colonel's smile turned less menacing, and his expression turned thoughtful. "Harriman..?" For a long moment he was silent, then the light of recognition dawned in his eyes and he said, "Yes, Harriman. Send him in." "You ready?" Garibaldi asked Gray, who nodded and took a deep breath. "Okay, then," he continued, keying the lock on the door, "if anything goes wrong, we'll get you out of there." Gray stepped cautiously into the cell, and tried not to jump when the door slid closed behind him. Garibaldi and Sinclair settled in to keep an eye on the monitor, ready to rush for the door if necessary. Gray took a step toward the bed and said, "Colonel, I had to talk to you..." "Yes, Harriman?" Ben Zayn asked, patting a spot on the bunk next to him. "Come and sit down, and we'll talk." Gray frowned -- he *sounded* reasonable enough; but when he tried a light scan, enough to sense surface emotions and general mood, he found himself blocked... "I'm -- I'd rather stand, thank you," Gray said as politely as he could, trying to keep the nervousness from his tone. Ben Zayn shrugged and said, "Very well. What did you want to tell me, Harriman?" Gray tried not to shiver as Ben Zayn's tone turned his name into a caress. Something was -- not right. "I wanted to apologize -- for what was done to you..." Gray said softly. He could feel Ben Zayn's eyes on him. "What do you mean, 'done to' me?" "Bester -- he did something to your mind -- implanted ideas, made you do things you wouldn't have done... I wanted you to know we're *not* all like that. We wouldn't all violate someone's mind like that." Ben Zayn slowly rose to his feet, walked to where Gray was standing, and reached out to touch the bruise where he had backhanded the smaller man. At the moment of contact a spark, like static electricity, jumped between them and Gray heard Ben Zayn's voice in his head saying, //I'm sorry, Harriman...// Then Ben Zayn's hand began to tremble, and Gray could feel some great conflict within him. //Help me..?// the voice asked, although it seemed much fainter, and Ben Zayn's hand dropped to his side. "So, Harriman," he began, the name again a caress, "what makes you think it's something I *wouldn't* normally do?" "Colonel?" Gray asked, suddenly all too aware of the powerful man standing before him, the blazing heat in his gaze. He could feel the heat pouring off him, making his head spin, his knees weak; desire suddenly flared but he couldn't tell whose, and he took a step towards the bed. Unsteady, he found himself lurching into Ben Zayn, felt the strong arms closing like iron bands around him, the nearly overwhelming lust as Ben Zayn ground his cock against him. Gray heard a moan, realized it was his own voice; realized he was pressing back against the colonel, letting the bigger man steer them towards the bunk where he would pin him down and fuck him... "So well trained, little Psi-Corps psi-whore," Ben Zayn purred menacingly, and then suddenly all hell broke loose. Gray gasped as Ben Zayn was torn from him; stood disoriented, his mind in a fog, as Garibaldi yelled, "Jeff, get him *outta* here!" and Ben Zayn snarled and turned on the security chief. Suddenly strong arms again wrapped around him and he melted into them, turning to kiss the strong chest before him. A cool wash of calm control flooded over him then, and he began to remember where he was and what he was doing. The cell and its occupants suddenly became real to him. "Commander Sinclair?" he asked shakily, bringing a trembling hand up to his forehead to rub it gently. "It's all right now, Harriman," Sinclair answered calmly, continuing to project as well as he could. He maneuvered the two of them around the grappling pair in the center of the cell and hit the door signal. "It's Sinclair -- ready to come out. And get a med team down here with some tranqs, *now*." The door slid open and they edged out. Once Garibaldi saw that they were safely outside the cell again, he let Ben Zayn go. Instead of backing off, though, the colonel wrapped his arms tighter around Garibaldi and lurched forward, carrying them both into the wall and forcing the air out of Garibaldi in a rush. As Garibaldi struggled to draw in air, Ben Zayn laughed and spun him around, forcing him against the wall again and trapping him there with his body. Garibaldi shuddered as Ben Zayn ground his hips against him, feeling the colonel's erection pressing between his buttocks. Ben Zayn leaned close and purred in his ear, "You're halfway there yourself..." Finally able to take in a deep breath, Garibaldi growled, "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Colonel," and jerked backwards trying to gain some maneuvering room. Ben Zayn, however, just tightened his grip and laughed. "I think you do understand: you're just like Harriman," the colonel purred. "You'd *like* to get fucked, wouldn't you, Michael?" "The hell you say!" Garibaldi snarled, stomping down hard on Ben Zayn's right foot. The colonel grunted and lost his grip on Garibaldi's shoulders and that was all the leeway Garibaldi needed. He drove an elbow back into Ben Zayn's side, then spun to face him. Before Ben Zayn could react, Garibaldi launched himself into the colonel and the two of them crashed to the floor in a heap. Sinclair saw Ben Zayn pin Garibaldi against the wall, and would have rushed back into the cell to help his friend, except that he couldn't seem to detach himself from Harriman Gray. The telepath's arms still held him tight, and from the feel of it, he was the only thing keeping the shorter man on his feet. _But I've *got* to help Michael,_ he thought, watching the struggle on the monitor. Garibaldi was finally able to defend himself, having recovered from getting the wind knocked out of him, and he was holding his own fairly well. The med team arrived just as Garibaldi knocked Ben Zayn out. "Commander? Are you all right?" one of the techs asked. He was about to answer when the door signal chimed. "Jeff, gemme the fuck out of here before this wacko wakes up!" Garibaldi panted through the speaker. Sinclair waved off the med tech and tried to move to open the door, but again Gray hindered his movement. He wrapped an arm about the telepath's shoulders and pulled him close, then leaned and keyed the door. Garibaldi lurched out, breathing hard, and blinked at the med team. "Great timing, folks," he grumbled. Then he added, "You'd better check him out -- make sure I didn't damage anything vital. But give him something to keep him *calm* -- last thing we need is him busting out!" He probed gingerly at a scrape on his chin, looked at the blood on his fingers. When one of the techs moved to examine him he sighed and stood still long enough for them to determine he was not seriously injured. "Looks like a nasty scrape there," the woman said as she dabbed it with antiseptic. "Yeah, well," he said, trying not to wince at the sting, "you oughta get in there and see to the other guy." "Chief, are you okay?" Garibaldi looked up to see his aide join the crowd in the corridor. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Had to distract Colonel Ben Wacko while the commander got Mr. Gray out. Looks like he's not as calm as we thought. "Look, Jack, I'm gonna help the commander with Mr. Gray here -- can you keep an eye on the colonel and let the good folks from MedLab out when they're done?" The younger security man nodded and said, "Sure, Chief, no problem." "Thanks," Garibaldi said with a half smile. "Commander, are *you* two okay?" "I think we ought to get Mr. Gray to a nice, quiet place, away from Colonel Ben Zayn," Sinclair answered, his eyes betraying the worry he kept from the rest of his face. Garibaldi frowned, finally getting a good look at Gray. The telepath was trembling and pressing his body tight against Sinclair, his face buried against the commander's shoulder. Even so, Garibaldi could see the shame in his face, the colour burning almost to his hairline. He remembered Ben Zayn's taunt, and what the colonel had said to Gray right before he had hauled the man off him. _Oh shit...I *don't* like the feel of this,_ he thought as he moved to support Gray on the other side. "C'mon, Harriman, we'll get you somewhere nice and quiet..." By the time the trio reached Sinclair's quarters, Gray was barely able to walk and Sinclair was nearly carrying him. The telepath started to say something, and Sinclair whispered, "Ssh, Harriman. Wait until we're in my quarters, *then* you can speak." Gray merely nodded and blinked back tears. Garibaldi keyed in Sinclair's access code, then let them into the room first. When the door slid shut, he keyed in his security override, setting the lock so that the only way to open it from the outside was in an emergency. While he did that, Sinclair gently deposited Gray on the couch and knelt before him, taking the trembling hands in his own, much larger ones. "Harriman?" he asked softly, "*Are* you hurt? Do you want to go to MedLab instead?" Gray shook his head, but couldn't meet Sinclair's gentle gaze. "I'm fine. I should go--" "No, Harriman, you don't need to be afraid of me; you don't need to be afraid of Michael. We will *not* hurt you..." The deep velvet voice calmed Gray slightly, and finally the telepath looked up. "I'm so sorry..." he whispered. Garibaldi appeared from the kitchen with three glasses of water and softly asked, "For *what*, Harriman?" "I thought I -- that he..." Gray shook his head and swallowed back tears. "I didn't think he'd do that." Garibaldi deposited the water on the table and asked, "Is it okay if I join you on the couch, Harriman? I promise I don't bite." Gray forced a smile and nodded, but when Garibaldi sat down, both he and Sinclair saw Gray stiffen. Sinclair tightened his grip on Gray's trembling hands and opened his mouth to speak, but Gray beat him to it. "You want to know what he meant but can't find a good way to ask," Gray said softly, colour rising in his cheeks again. "I want to know why he thought he could rape you without any kind of punishment," Sinclair corrected gently, although the anger simmered just below the surface and Garibaldi could see it in his eyes. Gray's blush darkened and he swallowed hard, then he said, "I told you I've never been in the best position...I meant that in -- a number of ways." Garibaldi's lips twisted in a grimace. "It's not the first time he's... that son of a bitch," he said in a low growl. "*No one's* got the right to do that." "I know quite a few who think they do," Gray whispered uncomfortably. "PsiCops," Sinclair growled. "Bastards..." Garibaldi shook his head and almost stood, then settled for thumping his fist on his thigh, noticing that Gray jumped slightly when he did. "Look, Harriman, I gotta ask: what the hell did Ben Zayn mean when he -- shit..." He paused and studied Gray's face. "Never mind, I think I know what he meant..." Gray took a deep breath and nodded, then said, "PsiCops have always been allowed more...leniency in just about everything they do. Some people have been known to pretty much *give* themselves to the PsiCops, usually in an attempt to get better treatment. However, there are some PsiCops who'd rather -- rather take whatever they want, even if it isn't freely given." Garibaldi shuddered and asked, "Is Bester one of them?" *Do I even *want* to know?* Gray looked at him and answered, "I'm not sure, Mr. Garibaldi, but I really wouldn't be surprised..." Then he looked back at Sinclair, who still knelt before him, gently squeezing his hands. _God, Commander, if you only knew what you're doing to me..._ "That's not all, is it, Harriman?" Sinclair asked, his velvet voice sending a shiver through Gray. He studied the man sitting before him, finding himself attracted to him although he wasn't sure why -- it disturbed him when he thought about the abuse Gray had suffered at the hands of the Corps. There were times when the telepath seemed a total innocent, but the heat in his gaze was unmistakable. He had to know whether it was truly voluntary, though -- he'd be damned if he took advantage of the man after all he'd been through. "No, Commander, it isn't..." Gray heaved a quiet sigh, then continued, "Sometimes they not only take what they want -- sometimes they *make* what they want..." "'Well trained'," Sinclair murmured, his frown darkening. Garibaldi could see the fury boiling under the surface -- could practically feel it like the crackle of electricity when Sinclair asked, "Do they do this 'training' the same way Bester gave Ben Zayn his plan for dealing with me?" "You mean direct input, mind-to-mind?" Gray asked. When Sinclair nodded, he blushed again and said, "Most of the time, yes, I guess they do." "And is that what they did with you?" Gray looked down, and Garibaldi could see him trying to blink back tears. "Damn it, Jeff, we can't let them get away with this." "But PsiCorps is all I have," Gray protested, looking from one to the other. "And that is why they'll keep getting away with it," Sinclair said sadly. "They've managed to make themselves quite a nice monopoly, and the only ones truly benefitting from it are the ruthless and power-hungry." "There's got to be *something*..." Garibaldi argued, trailing off because he knew that without drastically changing the system, there wasn't anything they could do. _And it'll take more than three people to be able to change it that much..._ "I'm sorry," Gray whispered. Sinclair looked up at him, seeing the tear tracks on his face. Very gently, he released Gray's hands and reached up with his right hand, wiping away a tear. _God -- I shouldn't be feeling this way, but..._ Garibaldi was staring at them, and Gray breathed, "Ohgod..." "So," Sinclair began softly, "*Was* it just conditioning that caused you to kiss me in the cell, or is there something more to it?" Gray licked his lips and reached up to touch Sinclair's hand, realizing as he did just how much his own hand was trembling. Garibaldi stared at the pair, agape, until his mind suddenly kicked into gear again. "Um, excuse me," he said, still staring, "but I must have missed this part when a certain lunatic was doing his level best to rape me. Just *what* is going on?" Sinclair turned his intense gaze on Garibaldi and smiled, and Garibaldi felt his annoyance melt away in the wake of a slow, sensual fire. "Michael," Sinclair's velvet voice whispered, "please don't be angry. I'd rather you were with us, too..." _Oh God, what *am* I doing -- it's been a *long* time since I just--_ "Jeff, I..." Garibaldi paused, hearing how rough his own voice was, suddenly. He cleared his throat and tried again, "I don't usually just hop into bed with...aww, hell, Jeff. This isn't fair to him." Gray turned pleading eyes to Garibaldi and whispered, "I'm doing *this* by choice, Mr. Garibaldi..." He swallowed hard and thought, _It may be the last time I ever get to do anything for myself...*Please*._ Garibaldi frowned and studied Gray's face, seeing the unspoken fear in his eyes. A part of him understood far too well, and he nodded. "You want us both, Harriman, then you get us both. But two conditions: one, you gotta *want* this because I will *not* do what They do." When Gray nodded, he grinned and continued, "Two, you gotta call me 'Michael'." Gray smiled, relieved, and said, "Michael..." Garibaldi then gave Sinclair a questioning glance -- this *wasn't* something he'd expected from his friend, although he was aware that in the past Sinclair had been somewhat adventurous as far as sex was concerned. It was definitely something he'd let Sinclair take the lead in, though. _Sure, Harriman's a nice guy -- for a telepath -- but we don't really *know* him,_ Garibaldi thought, a little leary about adding someone they barely knew to their relationship, even if it most likely was only for a one-night stand. However, Sinclair smiled in answer to his question, and Garibaldi felt the heat flare in response. Then, as he watched, Sinclair moved his hands to either side of Gray's legs and drew himself up to his full kneeling height. Gray's eyes went wide as Sinclair leaned closer and kissed him gently. Garibaldi stared, surprised by how aroused he was becoming. Normally he didn't like voyeurism, but seeing Sinclair being so commanding and watching Gray's posture change from rigid nervousness to pliant eagerness was sending fire through his blood. Sinclair deepened the kiss and Gray moaned, then reached up to encircle Sinclair with his arms, pulling the strong body closer. Garibaldi frowned, realizing he was being left out. He cleared his throat, smiling a little when they both broke the kiss and turned to look at him. "Um...you two mind if I join in the fun?" (concluded in part 2) Babylon 5 is (c) 1997 PTEN & Babylonian Productions. This story is not intended to infringe on these copyrights. "Looking At You, I Can Read Your Mind" is (c) 1997 Galenn