"What?" she asked in a half-asleep voice, hand held over his arm as though she were afraid to move it.
"Nothing. Lie down."
"Did I hurt you?" When he shook his head, Delenn moved her fingers down again, drifting against the edge of the hair under his arm. John, steeling himself against it, still could not help flinching away. Delenn's brow furrowed in that way it did when she was confronted by some bizarre Human mystery. "There's nothing there." She prodded back along his chest, down his ribs, to his flank. John bit the inside of his lip and thought about World Series stats. Back to his armpit, her fingers crooking up and in with devilish speed, and this time he actually shoved himself away from her. She let out one soft, ethereal giggle.
"I'm just a little ticklish, okay?" He hated the whining quality to his voice, but it was legitimate; he hated being tickled.
"That is what that word means? I have read it before, but I thought it was something else from context."
John rolled over a little, peering at her. "Are Minbari not ticklish?" he asked. She shrugged, a gesture she had only recently started to use, and it was endearing as all hell.
So, of course, he had to experiment. He touched and teased all the usual spots: under her arms, behind her knees, at the side of her waist, the bottoms of her feet. Her body didn't betray her once, and though her mouth remained a straight line that told of her quiet fortitude in putting up with his nonsense, there was a droll amusement shining out of her eyes. It wasn't until John gave up that he realized that not only had he confirmed that no, Minbari were not ticklish, but that he had also provided her with a roadmap of every vulnerable place on his own body....