Chapter 4: Thursday

As Delenn unlocked the door to her home and entered, she re-read the handwritten note delivered to her office thirty minutes ago.

April showers bring May flowers,
That is what they say.

But if all the showers turned to flowers,
We'd have quite a colorful day!

There'd be bluebells and cockleshells,
Tulips red and green,
Daffodils and Chinese squill,
The brightest you've ever seen.

You'd see tiger lilies and water lilies,
Carnations pink and blue,
Forget-me-not and small sundrop
Glistening with the dew.

We'd have fireweed and milkweed
And many more different flowers.
Mexican star and shooting star,
Falling in the showers.

And if all the showers turned to flowers
On that rainy April day,
Would all the flowers turn to showers
In the sunny month of May?

Meet me for lunch.

Love

John

Delenn left her shoes at the front door and folded the paper in half, securing it in the pocket of her forest green robe. She couldn't help but smile at the love note. She and John rarely ate lunch together, both too busy, even when they were aboard Babylon 5. And then there was the poem, a sweet rhyming poem, reminding Delenn of the ones written by children during the Valzah'bar Festival.

She walked down a hallway, made a left, and entered the living room. John wasn't there, but evidence of his presence was obvious. The room was stunning in what John referred to as earth tone colors—brown, green, and blue. The green and blue draperies covering the windows and balcony doors matched the floral design of the sofa, loveseat, and settee. The walls, however, were offset in a pale brown that made the blues and greens of the room appear like an indoor garden. And Delenn supposed that was John's intention.

The word cozy came to mind and Delenn wiggled her toes on the thick carpet. And how John managed to do all of this in less than a week was beyond her. And yesterday when she'd made to take a peek in the room adjacent their bedroom, she was met with a Do not Enter, Work in Progress sign and a securely locked door.

And now what was her husband up to?

Delenn went in search of John, not finding him in the dining room, kitchen, den, or the balcony. Finally, she ventured into the bedroom, calling his name.

"John, I'm home. I thought we were to have lunch, but there is nothing laid out in the kitchen or dining room."

The room was empty, Delenn stood in the middle of the room confused and a tad annoyed. She planned only to take a brief lunch at her desk while working, using the time to review the Alliance's budget for the upcoming fiscal year. Yet when she'd received John's note, she had Wagiri reschedule a meeting so she and John would have more than the thirty minutes Delenn normally reserved for lunch. Now, she stood alone in their bedroom, John nowhere to be found.

Then she spotted the folded piece of pink paper on a pillow on the bed—her pillow. Delenn moved to the bed, quickly grabbing the note and reading.

No questions, just undress, and meet me in the room across the hall.

Ah, the Do not Enter, Work in Progress room. She should've known.

Delenn happily complied; feeling surprisingly excited about what her husband had planned for her. She assumed it was another one of his early spring gifts. Admittedly, when John first mentioned his desire for them to have their own personal spring, she was less than enthused. In fact, Delenn was downright apathetic to the idea, her fluctuating hormonal state making her less than appreciative of his efforts.

But this morning had changed all of that, the three aides John acquired for her an unexpected and welcomed asset. When she arrived to her office this morning, there was a hot cup of tea waiting for her, Anla'shok applications catalogued, and White Star expense reports compiled, dated, awaiting her signature. Her mornings hadn't run that smoothly since Lennier. But unlike working with Lennier, Delenn didn't have to monitor her every word or action for fear of unknowingly leading Lennier on, pretending not to notice the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention. No, there were no such stressors today, just a productive environment with three talented young women with incalculable potential. The seeds John expected her to plant.

Delenn made her way to the room, touched the silver knob, and then turned. The room was flooded with light. The bamboo blinds for the window wall were completely pulled back, exposing the backyard and the acres of green, plush grass and towering overhanging trees.

But it was the room itself that took Delenn's breath away. The room was done in a smooth wood finish, both floor and the walls. A mural was painted on the three wooded walls, a meadow of five-lobed blue flowers with a yellow center growing on scorpioid cymes. The flowers, which also included pink and white petals, traversed the bottom of each wall, appearing to grow from the floor itself. And from the ceiling, droplets of rain fell, sprinkling the flowers with its life giving moisture, a canopy of rejuvenation, fortification.

And in the center of the rainy garden stood John in front of a large, wooden structure that was filled with water. John walked to her then, realizing she hadn't moved from the entranceway, his robe loosely tied, evidence of his naked state sensually obvious.

John reached for Delenn, his smile as bright as the afternoon sun wafting in, twinkling off the water. "I thought I asked you to undress," he said, eyeing her bathrobe disdainfully. "I meant everything off." One finger tugged at Delenn's knotted robe and it gave way, the belt falling to the side in helpless defeat.

Delenn could do nothing but stare at her husband, the room, the huge container of water, and then back at John whose smile was radiant and dangerous.

"How?" was all Delenn could manage, her robe slipping from one shoulder, and then the other, John's adept fingers performing their job with efficiency.

"Well, this," he said, mildly gesturing to the room with his head, intense eyes focused on Delenn, "has been in the works for months. I sent pictures and blueprints to the architects once we'd outlined the make-up of the Alliance headquarters and our home."

John took Delenn's hand and walked her to the center of the room. He removed his robe and walked up two steps, stepping one foot into the container of water.

He smiled back at Delenn when John realized she hadn't followed. "Come, honey, it's all right. It's what we humans call a hot tub. A hot tub is exactly that, a very large tub filled with warm water in which bathers may soak."

Cautiously, she allowed John to help her into the container of, yes, very hot water. It was not only hot, it bubbled in spots, pushing around the blue flower petals floating on top. This hot tub was the most sinfully magnificent luxury Delenn had ever seen, and the warm pulsing water felt tantalizing against her skin. The only thing better was the way John was holding her, pulling her next to him on a seat in the tub, the blue petals pooling around them.

John's mouth found Delenn's neck, gliding slowly from her collarbone to her nape, sucking her ear lobe as he made his way to the other side. Pleasure rippled through Delenn, the pin'cha hormone bubbling faster than the water in the hot tub.

"Legend has it that in medieval times, a knight and his lady were walking along the side of a river. He picked a posy of flowers, but because of the weight of his armor, he fell into the river. As he was drowning, he threw the posy to his loved one and shouted, 'Forget-me-not.' It was often worn by ladies as a sign of faithfulness and enduring love."

John plucked one of the blue petals from the water, the moisture weighing the delicate petal down. He placed it in Delenn's hand. "On Earth, the plant blooms in spring along wetlands and riverbanks." His lips dipped to the valley between her breasts, and Delenn took in a sharp breath. Valen, he shouldn't be doing this. Definitely dangerous.

"Forget-me-nots aren't indigenous to Minbar, as you know, but this," he touched the blue petal, "was the closest I could find." His lips sought and found her nipple, John's right hand Delenn's own forget-me-not wet petals.

"J-John, we c-can't," Delenn stuttered, John's finger circling her folds, sending waves of pleasure through her. "It's too early. John, please."

And Delenn didn't know what exactly she was pleading for. Was she asking him to stop, to proceed no further because they had days left before they were given medical approval to be intimate? Or was she pleading with him to free her from the hormones assaulting and controlling her senses?

"Delenn," John whispered against her throbbing neck, one long, thick finger sliding inside, gently massaging, the warm water amplifying the sensation, "I had no idea what you've been going through. I should've taken the time to really listen to your doctor, or simply research the hormone, like I did today."

The pad of his thumb slithered across her clit, a snake forking its tongue out, scenting the air. Then the finger began to move within, charming the snake, making Delenn dance.

Slither. Thrust. Dance.

Slither. Thrust. Dance

Slither. Thrust. Dance.

"You need the hormonal release, honey, and I can give it to you. Just. Like. This."

Two fingers and Delenn was lost to the overwhelming sensation, the stroking and releasing of her caged need, the rhythm of the hypnotic dance, making this moment indeed unforgettable, just like John.

"Sunday," he said, placing Delenn's hand over his rigid manhood, starting the slow glide for her, his eyes closing as she tightened her grip, creating her own dance, "when we get the all clear from the doc, we're going to christen every room in this house. You bring your flower, and together we'll make me rain."