Two Drifters

Chapter 1

In the aftermath of the events at Wexler, Cassandra had gone back to tie up loose ends with Lucy. An oddly upset Jones had also stayed behind to bury the pieces of his pet gargoyle. Jenkins was giving off a very weird vibe after Baird and Stone had filled him in about what Cassandra had told them about her experiences with the Lake Foundation, so the duo had decided to go out for a drink and give him space.

Baird seemed to be more interested in peeling the label off of her beer bottle than actually drinking it, so Stone finally had enough.

"Somethin' wrong?"

Baird sighed, looking up at him. "I know my role. I do. And I understand why she asked me to do it. But God, sometimes . . . ."

"What and who?" Stone asked though he had a bad feeling.

"Cassandra," Baird sighed again. "She asked me to throw the accelerator into the rift . . ."

Baird was continuing her explanation of what Cassandra had asked of her but blood was rushing to Stone's ears. He felt like he was going to throw up. If he hadn't been a master of hiding behind a costume, he knew he probably would have gone pale if not actually been sick in front of Baird. But a defensive wall went up and he was pretty sure the Guardian had no idea what he was going through internally. He wasn't sure what the hell that was either.

Luckily he was able to say something neutral and comforting to Baird and she wasn't really good company and so they left after just the one drink.

He paced the floor of his apartment when he got home. He had always known Cassandra was dying. It had been less than an hour after they'd met that Flynn had told everyone about her tumor. Why would this sacrifice that hadn't happened make him feel this way?

His stomach had done a sick flip flop in Oklahoma when she'd admitted she'd chosen a day when she would die. But it hadn't been like this. He knew her well enough to know that that day would come when all other hope had failed and that it wouldn't be soon. His apology had been more about her having to share something so intimate with them at the worst possible moment.

Cassandra was desperate to live, she wouldn't have done what she did with the Serpent Brotherhood if she wasn't.

So he didn't worry about her day to die.

Jenkins liked to remind them about the short life expectancy of Librarians. To save the world, one of them might have to make the ultimate sacrifice. Stone certainly understood why Cassandra would have wanted the rift closed. She'd probably guessed rightly that none of them save Baird could have actually gone through with it. Even Jones wouldn't have been able to do it.

And himself? He was pretty sure he would have gotten himself killed trying to save her.

Mabel had died in his arms and that had hurt. But that had been sadness for their failure, her wasted life and what could have been. Cassandra's death would . . . .

Destroy him. Because Mabel had been a what if, a mere possibility, a girl he liked. Cassandra . . . .

He loved her.

He'd known that for a long time if he was honest with himself. He knew that after Paris when he'd done more than look at Mabel's sights. When he'd spent a day searching his own soul and starting to sort out complicated feelings.

But they weren't complicated any more. He loved her. And that was the purest, simplest feeling he'd ever had.

But the complicated part was telling her. They'd been close since the team had come back together and she'd been open to his attempts at flirting. But he wasn't sure if she was just being her sweet self or she returned his feelings.