MR PRESIDENT

by elfin



"So... President, huh?"  Michael glanced up and saw the warning in John's expression.  "Guess that makes me... the First Lady?"

John laughed - a wonderful sound to hear after everything they'd been through.  He pushed up onto one elbow to mirror the way Michael was lying.  

Sweeping his fingers over the black velvet of the scarf still tied around one wrist - the only thing he was wearing - he met his lover's mischievous gaze and shook his head slowly.

"I don't think so, Michael.  Never really pegged you as the type."

Michael raised one eyebrow at the melancholy response but said nothing.  Sometimes, now, John didn't have the energy to joke.  That he could smile was a miracle, it was more than enough.

Reaching the short distance, Michael plucked a stray flower from John's hair just behind his ear - one of the pink rose buds the Minbari had been scattering at the ceremony.  At the first ceremony.  By the time John was finally sworn in by G'Kar ("Do you want to be President?" "Yes." "Put your hand on the book and say 'I do'."  "I do."  "Good.  Let's eat.") there was only the three of them left.

He let out a deep breath and admired the golden sheen of John's marred skin. They'd found a better way to celebrate than the official reception, sure that G'Kar and Delenn were successfully holding court.

"I love you," he whispered, embarrassed by the need to say it.  "I don't want to have to drag your a"* out of any worse situations than I already have done."

John's smile widened, eyes sparkling.  "I like living dangerously."

Michael grinned, happy to hear the throw-away comment, John's choked spirit peeking through.  "Don't I know it!"

The silver streaks shot through John's hair were testament to just how true his statement was.

"I can tie every grey hair I have back to an example of you living dangerously," he teased, and stilled when John reached out and patted his buzz-cut head before taking their barely-touched champagne glasses from the floor beside the bed.

"To us and the universe."

Michael clinked his glass against John's.  "To you, Mr President."