(continued from part 1) --==**==-- The next day the rogue telepaths made their move, attacking Bester and kidnapping Talia Winters. When the incident (including the deaths of two rogues) was reported, Bester seemed to be only interested in his own safety, and in catching the telepaths. Garibaldi lost his temper and began yelling at Bester because of his lack of concern for Talia, looming over the smaller man. Bester merely looked up at him, unimpressed by his anger, and suddenly Garibaldi felt very uncomfortable. He continued, although now it was pure bravado. Something about the knowing look in those obsidian eyes... Then Bester spoke, "If you're this worried, Mr. Garibaldi, I suggest you double your efforts to find these people." He stood up, and Garibaldi squashed the urge to give him more space, even though all the alarms in the back of his mind were screaming. Bester continued, "You've got two bodies to start with--" He paused, and winked at Garibaldi, then finished, "make the best of them..." Then Bester left the room, and Garibaldi swallowed hard, trying to get his heart back down out of his throat, and sat down. He shivered and wondered, _Just what the hell was that?!_ Something was definitely not right here -- Bester always carried himself with the arrogance that very powerful, conceited people wrapped themselves in. But this -- this was something more than just arrogance, more than Bester's usual smugness... A shiver ran through Garibaldi as he realized, _He's telling me that he knows about me and Jeff, the little scum! He's getting off on watching me sweat!_ Horror struck him as that realization brought a flash of heat that settled in his groin. _What the hell is wrong with me?!_ he thought as his cock twitched. He fought down the panic as he realized Ivanova was staring at him, and Sheridan was asking him a question. "I'm sorry, Sir, what was that?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Sheridan raised an eyebrow and repeated, "Do you have your people working on the investigation yet?" Garibaldi nodded and answered, "Dead bodies in the Zocalo, shots fired -- that *is* the usual procedure. Only problem is, this time I have to share anything we learn with that little weasel..." _There, that sounds better,_ he thought, more relieved that his body was once again listening to him than that he had been able to sound like he had been paying attention. "Well, when you find anything out, let me know *before* you share it with him," Sheridan said. "No problem there, Captain," Garibaldi answered. "I'd 'forget' to share it if I could get away with it, but he'd come looking for me then..." "Something to be avoided," Ivanova muttered, still studying him. _You're telling me,_ Garibaldi thought uncomfortably, trying to avoid meeting her gaze. "Well, I've got an investigation to run," he said, standing and heading for the door. He heard Ivanova behind him, telling Sheridan she also had things to attend to, and his heart sank as she caught up with him in the corridor. "You okay, Garibaldi?" she asked, studying his expression carefully. For a moment she was concerned he was going to tell her 'I'm fine', and she asked, "Come on, Garibaldi, what's up?" "Damn, Susan, you've got such a wonderful way of phrasing things sometimes," he muttered uncomfortably. "What?" She frowned, thinking, _Something is not right here..._ "It's personal, and I'd rather not discuss it while Bester's here," he finally answered, so quietly that even Ivanova had to strain to hear it. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop in a quiet area of the corridor then studied his face. He looked down at her hand on his arm as if it were some kind of alien appendage. She did not let go, even when he frowned and tried to jerk his arm free. "Ivanova, let me go. I've got work to do, and this isn't the time or the place." "Whatever he's done, you can't just let him get away with it," she whispered fiercely. Garibaldi heaved a sigh and answered, "Except that he hasn't *done* anything yet...just played little games like what you saw in the meeting..." Ivanova frowned angrily and let go of his arm before she took the anger out on him. "Look, Michael, I know a little bit about PsiCops. He's using you against *yourself* -- why use up his own time and energy when he can have you do all the work for him. Whatever it is, don't let him know he's upsetting you. Don't give him that chance at victory, and most of all, remember that he can ride into your mind on strong emotions. He'll try to provoke you -- *don't* let him!" Garibaldi nodded, then glanced up and down the corridor. "Thanks, Susan," he said softly. "Now, I *gotta* get on that investigation and find out where they've taken Talia..." "Yeah. Good luck," Ivanova answered, letting him walk away, even though she was certain he needed more help than she had given him. She watched him walk off, praying her suspicions were wrong. --==**==-- Garibaldi sighed as the monitor returned to the Babcom screen, leaned back in his chair. He'd already informed Ivanova and Sheridan about what they'd uncovered in the investigation, and made up a data crystal of all the pertinent information for Bester. As Sheridan had said, everything related to the investigation, but nothing more than that. He was very relieved that Sheridan had decided to listen to their advice and play it careful where Bester was concerned... And now the PsiCop was on his way there to pick up the crystal... He shuddered, remembering the way those onyx eyes looked at him. Just far, *far* too familiarly... Garibaldi heaved another sigh and propped one foot up against his desk, his knee resting against the arm of his chair. _Why show any respect to the little slug,_ he thought. _I'm not about to sit up properly for the likes of him!_ When he looked up again, Bester stood in the doorway watching him. The PsiCop entered the room and asked, "You wanted to see me?" _Bastard,_ Garibaldi thought viciously. However, he put on a smile and responded, "Wanted to? Not really. But I guess I have to, don't I." The corner of Bester's mouth quirked into a slight smile, and he studied Garibaldi appraisingly. As he looked him up and down, Bester thought, _Oh, Michael, if you only knew what your subconscious was telling the world right now..._ He smiled openly, now, his eyes lingering on Garibaldi's crotch until he could feel understanding beginning to dawn, then took a couple of steps closer. "Mr. Garibaldi, I know we've had our problems in the past, but I'm not the enemy. We have the same concerns, you and I. We want to protect our own, protect Earth..." Garibaldi was only half listening to the spiel, the rest of his mind in a panic as he realized exactly how he was sitting: legs apart, crotch boldly displayed. Even now he could feel his cock starting to stir, and the thought foremost in his mind was, _How the hell do I get myself out of this *without* drawing more of his attention to it?!_ And as Bester walked nearer, Garibaldi could feel the heat coming off the man, a buzz of power sending shivers through him. _Oh god..._ Then Bester smiled and walked away again, and asked, "Would it interest you to know I'm married, Mr. Garibaldi; that I have a five-year-old daughter? That on Sundays when I'm back home we pack a picnic lunch, go out under the dome on Syria Planum, and watch the stars come out. Hardly the description of a monster." Garibaldi leapt at the chance for a distraction, clapped for Bester's performance as he sat up. "Smooth," he said, "You're getting good at this. Keep working on it, one of these days I might even be convinced you're human." A part of his mind wondered, _*Why* do I antagonize him?!_ Then he continued, "Here's the information you asked for," and tossed the data crystal to Bester. While he rattled off a quick summary of the information and told Bester to meet him in an hour to investigate the matter, Garibaldi leaned back in his chair again, only realizing this once Bester walked out of the office. _What the hell is *wrong* with me?!_ he thought, glowering at the door as it slid closed. _Damn! The next time I get a chance to use some leave, I'm goin' to Minbar -- I need to see Jeff!_ As he thought about spending some time with Sinclair, Garibaldi absently stroked his thigh, hand straying towards his stiffening cock, until he realized where he was and what he had been doing. He sat up again and carefully readjusted his trousers, frowning darkly as he pondered his wandering attention. _Damn. I gotta get laid..._ Bester strolled down the corridor, fingering the data crystal in his pocket and reaching out mentally to gauge Garibaldi's mood. No, he realized, the body language had not been intentional at all -- the security chief's subconscious desires were definitely starting to affect him during waking and working hours. Bester smiled smugly as he remembered that little shock of fear, followed by a sweet rush of arousal, as Garibaldi had realized how close he'd been standing. Almost close enough to reach out and touch that stiffening erection Garibaldi had desperately wanted to hide. _Is it just power that turns you on, or do you like the edge of danger, too, Michael?_ he wondered as he walked on to his destination. Of course, to accomplish what needed to be done and *not* have to answer any difficult questions, he knew he had to deal with the rogues and the underground railroad before security even got there. He paused in the shadows and checked his PPG, then continued on to the location he'd gleaned from Garibaldi's mind. _Once this mess is handled,_ he thought with a half-smile, _I'll be able to deal properly with you, Michael..._ --==**==-- Garibaldi grunted and threw himself down on his bed, too tired and annoyed to even undress. Of course, Bester had gone DownBelow by himself, not bothering to wait for the security team or even for him. He still had no idea what the hell had gone on, because Sheridan had simply refused to explain anything. "We'll deal with it all in the morning, Garibaldi. You look beat, and I still have things to finish up," Sheridan had told him. Just what the hell was that supposed to mean, and why was Sheridan keeping him from doing his job? _At least,_ he thought, _we got Talia back in one piece._ Although she had seemed oddly calm about the experience -- even insisted on being the one to see Bester off. Not before he'd had a chance to chew the PsiCop out, though, Garibaldi reflected. Probably the dumbest thing he'd done all day. "The next time I say you're going to wait and go with me, you're fraggin' *going* to wait and go *with* me!" he'd yelled at the telepath, not remembering until too late Ivanova's warning about strong emotions. And Bester... Bester had smiled darkly at him and said, "Why, Mr. Garibaldi, if I had *known* you were so concerned about my safety, believe me, I *would* have waited for you." Then the obsidian eyes turned sly and Bester added, "I'm sure you and I would work quite well *together*..." Garibaldi felt a chill race through him then, as he remembered what had happened next. A subtle pressure against his mind, far too familiar and intimate. It had been Bester, trying to probe him -- maybe trying to find out what he knew -- and while he had attempted to block him out, he didn't think he had succeeded. If it hadn't been for Ivanova's arrival at just that moment... Garibaldi shook his head, trying not to think about what that mental probing had felt like. It had actually been rather obscene -- but pleasant... If it had been someone other than Bester -- if Sinclair were a telepath... It had felt almost like fingers probing him intimately, he realized, beginning to grow hard. _Imagine if Jeff could do that..._ he thought, stroking himself absently; then an image -- memory -- flashed in his mind and he sat up suddenly, horrified: Bester, smiling at him knowingly, then reaching up to his forehead and saluting. "Be seeing you, Garibaldi," he had said, licking his lips, then he turned and walked away. And Garibaldi remembered that Bester knew about Sinclair and him, and realized that he had made the probing feel like that on purpose... _Damn him,_ he thought, trying to control his panic. _He wasn't trying to get information, he just did that because he wanted to... What the hell do I do?!_ He stood and began undressing, readying himself for bed. _Only thing I *can* do right now is get some rest, and first thing tomorrow find out from the captain exactly what happened. I can't let this affect my work -- I can't let him win._ But even as he tried to force his mind away from it, he couldn't help remembering the feeling of the attempted probe, intimate penetration of his mind by someone he was completely powerless to stop... He looked down at himself as he stripped off his boxers, semi-erect penis springing free of its confines; then squeezed his eyes shut, almost desperately frightened. He lay down and dimmed the lights, and tried to will the erection away. It refused to wilt, however; finally, shivering, he took himself in hand and started to pump. Orgasm was on him in moments, lightning fast, blinding in its intensity, leaving him weak and trembling with Bester's words in his ear, "Be seeing you..." He shuddered, and whispered, "Oh god, Jeff, I think I'm in trouble..." --==end==-- Babylon 5 is (c) 1996 PTEN and Babylonian Productions. This story is not intended to infringe on these copyrights. 'A Race Through Darker Places' is (c) 1996 Galenn.