"I do not pigging believe this," Lucie said, trying to scrape lemon drizzle cake off her blouse with her free hand.

"You seem upset," G'Kar said. He certainly didn't, despite having far more cake and far fewer clothes about his person.

"Too right I'm upset! This happens to me all the sodding time!" Lucie scowled. "Someone's got to be doing it on purpose."

"You suspect that you have an enemy?"

"Oh, I know I've got one of them." Lucie gave her blouse another defiant swipe. "Karen. But she wouldn't set up stupid traps like this. If she was gonna mess me up she'd do it herself. Up close and personal."

"What a fascinating life you lead, Miss Miller — may I call you Lucie?"

"Only if you want a fist in your sensitive bits, wherever you keep them." Lucie took a deep breath. "You don't get cakes exploding round here all the time, do you?"

"It is a rare occurrence, I agree."

"So how come you're talking like it's not anything out of the ordinary?"

"My dear Lu— My dear young lady, once one has been stationed on Babylon Five for any length of time, even the unexpected becomes commonplace. Yesterday a ghost stalking the corridors, today an exploding cake, tomorrow the arrival of a rogue Minbari bearing strange confidences... it is these little incidents that add bright curlicues to our plodding daily routine."

"Lemon drizzle cake in me down-belows isn't what I'd call a bright curlicue," Lucie said.

"Then as soon as we are freed, I shall place the laundry services of the Narn Embassy at your disposal. And while you are waiting for your clothes to be washed, I shall be entirely at liberty to provide what entertainment I can. I appreciate that for human women, we Narns can be an acquired taste, but I assure you that I do not lack experience."

Lucie put her hand to her head. "Do you have to be mad to work here?"

"No." G'Kar grinned. "But it helps, Miss Miller, it certainly helps."