I sent John out of here almost two arns ago, but I still feel his touch, as though the heat of it has branded me

If I live another eight hundred years, I beg of you, may I never understand the male brain!

The two of them are absolutely ridiculous, blustering around one another in their complex and convoluted dance of aggression, submission and denial.

It's their masquerade, their stage-play for propriety's sake, when it is obvious that all they want to do was devour one another whole.

Obvious to me, at least - the fools themselves seem utterly oblivious. Now, thankfully, that may have changed. John has come to me twice this evening, interrupting my meditations both times.

Had it been anyone else, this would have bothered me a great deal. However, for some reason that I am unable to name, I cannot remain angry at John for any significant period of time.

The almost...maternal protectiveness and fondness that I feel for this wayward human puzzles me sometimes. Perhaps I'm simply feeling my age. The feeling extends - to some degree - to D'Argo. The fondness, that is, for D'Argo needs no one's protection.

I do hope they resolve this soon - the strain may become too much for me, and I'm only marginally involved. John talks to me, and on occasion, D'Argo has talked to me as well. It would drastically simplify matters if they would merely talk to each other, and leave me out of it.

Well, it's quite late now, perhaps John has gone to sleep. I begin to shed my robe, deciding to give meditation one last try, when I hear his footstep in the hall, outside my door.

"What now, you insufferable human - " I begin, turning to face him with what I hope is a formidable look on my face, and -

• it isn't John.

Try as I might, I cannot stop the smirk that spreads over my face.

"And what is on your mind this evening, Ka D'Argo?" I ask.

I don't think my smirk is appreciated - he's scowling. But D'Argo is usually scowling, no matter what the circumstances, so it is difficult to pinpoint the cause of this particular glower.

"I...wish to ask a favour of you, Zhaan," he says, almost haltingly. I have never before heard D'Argo speak in such a tone. Tentative.

I bid him enter, and he does so, sitting upon my bed, as I have no chairs.

"John has spoken of this to you," he begins. It is not a question, and I have no need to ask what 'this' he is referring to.

So I merely reply, "Yes," and wait for him to continue. After a long, somewhat loaded silence, he does.

"John and I wish to complete the Blood Bond," he says. Then, somewhat wryly, "I believe you know this."

I incline my head, a gesture that says both "yes", and "go on." When he does speak again, there is a formality to his voice and words, a formality that I recognize as part of the ritual.

"In honour, Zotoh Zhaan, I ask you to act as Ma'Bruk, Witness to the Joining."

I try not to let the shock I feel at his softly-spoken request show on my face. An honour, indeed, one of the highest. My brain has stilled with awe, and D'Argo, seeming to take my silence as reluctance, speaks a word that is not part of the formal request.

He says, "Please."

It is that please that breaks my paralysis, the sudden comprehension of just how much this truly means to him. for Ka D'Argo seldom says please to anyone. Distantly, I feel my lips move, hear myself speak the ritual response.

"In honour, Ka D'Argo, I accept."

I see in his eyes the smile he does not allow to curve his mouth, and I am happy, so very happy for him. Impulsively, I reach out and take his hand, squeezing it gently, as though to transmit my well-wishes through touch.

And perhaps I do, for he smiles at me then, a true, genuine smile, one of the few he has ever shown me.

"Tomorrow evening," he says, and with one final squeeze of my hand, he is gone, a spring in his step that I find amusing in my doting, strangely parental way, thinking that I have never before seen D'Argo so happy.

I know what the ritual entails, know what my part in it is. Before the Ma'Bruk (me), the Sword Brothers (John and D'Argo) will swear the Oath of Allegiance. Then, they will retire to one of their cells to complete the, well, Joining, which I will not witness.

A pity, that. They would be lovely together...

The image that flares in my brain hits me so hard that I actually gasp aloud with the force of it. Goddess preserve me. I shall have to ask Pilot if he is detecting a heightened level of ionic radiation. Yes, that must be it. What else could it be?

Ask Pilot...

A delightfully wicked idea has just occurred to me...Oh, I shouldn't. I definitely shouldn't. However, while I am telling myself this, I leave my cell, heading to see Pilot, so, even though I know I shouldn't, I also know that I'm going to.

A strange night, I think to myself. A strange night, indeed. But ultimately a good one, as well.

"Zhaan," he greets me.

He looks surprised to see me - as though he didn't have monitors of every room and hallway to watch every minute. I think Pilot's voyeuristic tendencies might rival even mine.

"You wouldn't object to a bit of subterfuge in a very good cause, would you, Pilot?" I ask him.

He eyes me somewhat suspiciously, and I find that I am laughing.

END