disclaimer: BABYLON 5, Ivanova, Talia, and all characters and situations thereof, are all rights and © J. Michael Straczynski and Babylonian Productions. This is a not-for-profit effort for the purpose of fan-to-fan appreciation of some wonderful characters :).

another fairytale type effort. :) Inspired by the answer by capt. shania at Mindwalkers, of what Ivanova could possibly want most, if not Ms. Winters. ;) all ages. enjoy.

Once upon a time, in a far, far, faraway place known as Epsilon, there sat in space a vast, thriving space station known as Babylon 5. All manner of sentient beings from all over the universe came to Babylon 5, and all manner of business, the good kind and the not so good kind, played out their dramas on the immense station. One of the lucky humans who got to oversee all that chaotic activity was a capable and beautiful human named Commander Susan Ivanova.

Now, running a space station in the far, far recesses of space did not always make it easy to obtain the beloved comforts of Earth, Susan Ivanova's home world, so it was no great surprise to everyone that the aloof commander secretly harbored and lovingly doted upon one particular plant in the station's hydroponics garden, and that plant was her beloved coffee plant.

From that plant was many a good cup of coffee made to ease the temper of a volatile, yet exceptionally competent station commander.

"What did you do to my coffee plant," she growled at Michael Garibaldi, the station's security chief.

"Chased suspect, hydroponics garden, his shoe," the chief recited with minimalist delivery. The dark-haired commander directed sharp, blue eyes at his dirt guilty shoes. "Okay, my shoes," Garibaldi clarified.

Such were the senseless yet never dull events to be expected upon Babylon 5.

So it came to pass, that while the station's beautiful commander was nursing her innocently stomped upon coffee plant back to health, she should frequent the station's shopping bazaar, The Zocalo, for that elusive, good cup of coffee. Not some 'brew' of heated synthesized flavors; not some concoction of imitation caffeine. She craved real coffee.

So the moment she stepped into the Zocalo proper, resolute upon her sacred quest, what should happen but a merchant's alarmed scream, a furtive attempt by some petty thief to escape, and herself chasing said elusive thief instead.

As she ran by the high patio of an elegantly railed cafe porch, in hot pursuit of her suspect, the commander noted in one part of her keen mind, the seated presence of the station's resident commercial telepath, the fair-haired Ms. Talia Winters.

Cool, collected--utterly attractive.

And something else.

The commander ran by the cafe patio again, this time bringing her suspect down with a low tackle.

The rich, warm aroma she had detected from the cafe porch was unmistakable: It was the impossibly flavorful scent of freshly brewed real coffee.

After handing over her suspect to security, the commander returned to the cafe. A fresh steaming cup of java sat hot, cozy, and untouched before the seated telepath.

"Is that real coffee, Ms. Winters?" the commander asked, passing close by the iron rail that separated the cafe patio from the Zocalo proper.

"It is, and a good day to you as well, Commander," the telepath replied.

"Is it good coffee, Ms. Winters?" the commander further inquired, pacing once again by the high rail.

"I wouldn't know, I don't drink coffee, Commander," was the answer.

"You don't drink coffee, Ms. Winters."

"No, Commander."

"Yet you have a cup of coffee before you, Ms. Winters."

"Made from real coffee beans, yes, Commander. A gift from a client hoping to introduce the coffee plant to the Centauri Republic."

The commander neatly jumped the rail to slide uninvited into the vacant patio chair opposite the telepath.

"And you are trying to ascertain that it is good coffee," she continued.

"The Centauri representative had insisted I also try the coffee beans," the telepath informed helpfully.

The commander leaned in to inhale the dark, steaming liquid.

"I'd say it smells quite good, Ms. Winters," the commander observed.

"It does, doesn't it," the telepath agreed.

"May I take a sip?" the commander politely requested.

"Certainly," the telepath bade, and the commander raised the mug to her lips and took a long, pensive swallow.

"It's quite good," the commander informed, taking yet another sample swallow.

"That's good to hear," the telepath commented.

"It's a good coffee bean," the commander further deduced, swallowing one more time.

"I will note that," the telepath acknowledged.

"It's very good coffee, Ms. Winters," the commander finally stated, putting the mug down. "Enjoy."

And as the commander stood up and abruptly left, the telepath glanced into her mug and noticed that it was completely empty.

The next day, Susan Ivanova found herself once again in the Zocalo proper, dropping off her dress uniform for repair after a particularly rambunctious council meeting. Ms. Winters was sedately seated near the patio railing, just as the commander had left her, with another cup of brimming, steaming coffee before her.

The commander stood close to the porch railing, avidly regarding the telepath and her cup.

The commander then abruptly turned and disappeared into the Zocalo crowd. Perplexed, the telepath knitted fair haired eyebrows together and wondered upon the behavioral patterns of dark haired, Russian born station commanders.

Suddenly, Susan Ivanova appeared at the railing once again.

"Ms. Winters, that smells like a different kind of coffee," she remarked before the telepath could say anything.

"Why yes. I am trying a different bean today," the telepath informed.

"And is it a good flavor, Ms. Winters?" the commander inquired, leaning closer to the rail with a very attentive, sharp browed stare.

"I don't know, Commander," the telepath honestly replied. "I've yet to try it."

The commander hopped the railing with a smooth athletic jump and slid into the patio seat opposite the telepath.

"Allow me," the commander suggested.

"Well..." the telepath hesitated, remembering what happened to her coffee yesterday.

"It has a very intriguing aroma, Ms. Winters," the commander observed.

She sighed ever so slightly, as she gazed at the cup.

"Oh do try it," the telepath encouraged.

The commander lifted the steaming mug and took a long, deliberate swallow.

"This is even better than yesterday's cup, Ms. Winters," the commander smiled.

"Is it?" the telepath commented, liking Ivanova's smile.

"Mm."

The commander took another long, pensive sip.

"You should inform your client that this coffee bean is very good indeed."

"I'll certainly do that."

"The Centauri representative should find it to his satisfaction as well."

"He will be happy to hear that."

The commander regarded the telepath over the rim of the cup.

"For you," she suddenly said, bringing up a hand that slid a small, attractive container of tea before the telepath.

"Why, thank you," the surprised telepath acknowledged in delighted tones, a smile touching her lips. The commander abruptly put down the coffee cup.

"Enjoy your coffee," she imparted, and quickly left the patio.

When Talia looked inside her coffee mug, she noticed that all was left were a few coffee grounds.

The next day, the commander was prowling about the Zocalo once again, hunting for just the right plant food for her poor coffee plant. Ms. Winters was seated near the railing of the cafe patio, just as the commander had left her, the telepath's fair head shimmering in the lights that played about the Zocalo. Before the telepath sat another cup steaming with the rich, thickly aromatic scent of coffee.

Ivanova neatly vaulted over the railing top and took the empty seat across from the telepath.

"And how are you today, Ms. Winters?" the commander politely inquired.

"I'm very well, thank you, Commander," came the telepath's smooth reply. "And you?"

"My day is certainly looking up," the commander answered, leaning in on the table. "And your negotiations?"

"My client and the Centauri are wondering why I've not tried any of the coffee yet."

"Like that cup before you there?"

"Yes--"

"That cup which smells even more different than yesterday's, Ms. Winters?"

"Yes--"

"It smells very interesting, Ms. Winters."

"It is my client's best bean--"

"'Best' bean?" Ivanova's dark eyebrow crepted up. "The coffee I personally grow is by far the best I've ever tasted. I doubt your client's bean is better."

"Would you like to try it, then?" Talia offered, taking the hot mug and placing it before the commander.

"Certainly," the commander accommodated, and raised the cup to her lips.

"Mmmm," was the only sound she made, as she contemplatively swallowed the steaming brew.

"Is it better?" the telepath prompted.

"Mmmm."

The commander took another deep swallow.

"Commander," the telepath queried worriedly.

"Mm?"

"Commander, I--"

Ivanova swallowed more of the rich liquid.

"I really need to at least taste it. My client and the Centauri will be very unhappy if I don't."

The commander set the empty mug down, content as a cat.

"Here's your taste, Ms. Winters," she murmured, and leaned forward to press her mouth to the telepath's.

Talia felt the pressure of soft lips moist with the strong, rich flavor of coffee on her mouth. Her own tongue darted out to lick a sensitive line along the commander's upper lip.

Just as suddenly as the contact was made, the commander's mouth was gone. Talia stared at the empty seat across from her and tasted the bittersweet residue of potent coffee.

The next day, the commander found herself hurrying through the Zocalo, intent on losing the irate pack of complaining merchant ship captains pursuing her. Certain that she had lost the troublesome group at last, she spied the cafe patio she had the pleasure of frequenting the last few days, as well as the familiar figure seated there.

What was different was the elegant tea cup that now sat before the telepath, rather than the comfortably thick ceramic of a coffee mug.

She watched the telepath slowly raise the tea cup to her lips and take a sip, savoring its warm flavor, then return the cup to the saucer.

"Ms. Winters," she greeted quietly, resting her hands lightly on the railing, her bright eyes on the table top and its sole tea cup.

"Commander," the telepath acknowledged warmly. For a while they did not speak, as the commander stood by the railing and the telepath sat quietly.

"Did your negotiations go well?" the commander finally asked.

"Yes. The Centauri will grow coffee, and my client is very happy," the telepath replied.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you, Commander."

Talia looked up at the commander with a soft, apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry I've no more coffee, Commander."

"Oh....coffee is not all the pleasure in the world," the commander answered casually, though she looked slightly crestfallened.

Talia gave her tea cup a slight nod.

"This is the tea you gave me, and it happens to be my favorite tea."

"Is it?" the commander asked. "Then is it very good tea, Ms. Winters?"

"Very good."

Ivanova's hands moved restlessly on the railing.

"Won't you join me, Commander? I would like you to try my tea."

"I am not much of a tea drinker, Ms. Winters."

The telepath smiled, and raised the steaming cup to her lips, taking a drink.

"Let me give you a taste," she softly suggested.

And as Ivanova leapt over the rail to smoothly take a seat across from the telepath, Talia took another sip, and leaned towards the commander.

And since then, the commander and the telepath happily enjoyed tea and coffee with each other, ever after.

The end! ;D

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