Since I'm a John Larroquette fan, it also means that I'm a fan of whatever he's in. I currently have a Night Court story that I'm posting chapters for, however, after the latest Librarians episode, I was VERY motivated to write this. Literally. Like five minutes after the episode ended. (Which I've already watched about six times now thanks to On Demand.) Since the show "went there", I decided that I'd "go there", too. And honestly, the fact that Lindy crushes on John and has made it clear that she wants scenes with him and basically helped create Cassandra's crush on Jenkins is just the sprinkles on the cake. I mean, how awesome is that?! She's my hero. lol I'm sure I won't be the only one writing more about these two, but here is my proverbial hat tossed into the ring. Hope you enjoy.
Very little surprised Jenkins.
Born Galeas du Lac in four seventy-five AD to Lancelot and Elaine, Jenkins (he'd chosen that moniker about six hundred years ago and still preferred it) had lived through everything and everyone imaginable – countless wars, kings and queens, the building (and destroying) of sacred monuments, the Plague and so much more. He'd been called the world's greatest and most noble knight that had ever lived, having successfully completed the quest for the Holy Grail and drinking from the actual cup to receive his immortality. He'd witnessed the rise (and sometimes the fall) of humanity, so it was fairly difficult to rattle him.
He had to admit, however, that Cassandra's request for a date had caught him completely off guard. If she'd asked Jake or Ezekiel, that would not have surprised him, after all, they were all young and attractive and relatively close in age. But him? What could she possibly find attractive about him? He was ancient, stodgy, set in his ways and so much more that he could list in the negative column.
Jenkins tried to put it out of his mind, which was usually pretty easy for him to do. Her request had been really sweet, and he was more than flattered; it had been many, many decades since he'd had that kind of attention, not that he ever looked for it.
Being who he was, however, meant that he never acted upon any of the attention that he occasionally received. He might not look like it on the outside, but on the inside, he was still the same pure knight that he'd been for over fifteen hundred years.
Though some would probably find it difficult to believe, Jenkins was still capable of learning. True, he had more knowledge – especially of all things magical – than some of the wisest scholars and sages that had ever existed, and yet he was not above still being able to learn new things, apparently.
Just today, as a matter of fact, he'd learned that it bothered him immensely when Cassandra was upset with him. Normally, people's emotional state towards him didn't faze him – he was too busy and too old for such triviality. And not to sound callous, but a human's eighty year or so lifespan was merely a blink in comparison to his time on Earth. He just didn't let people bother him. For some reason, Cassandra's unusual – and he felt unwarranted – display of frustration towards him because he wouldn't acquiesce to her request upset him more than it should have, probably because he didn't understand why she'd asked him to begin with. Not that he paid attention to those sorts of things, but he didn't remember any lingering looks from her or any other indications of interest. It all seemed so completely out of character for her.
Jenkins was not cold-hearted – he could admit that he cared for Cassandra; he cared for all of them in his own way. But he especially didn't want to hurt her, and he feared that he had. He would have to apologize; it was the right thing to do. Maybe he could find a way to make her understand why they could not go out.
As he walked through the Annex, book in hand, something caught his eye on the floor. Assuming Ezekiel had dropped the small piece of paper and neglected to pick it up, he rolled his eyes and muttered something about not being a maid as he bent down to retrieve it. He started to toss it into the waste bin when the word 'doctor' caught his eye.
Quickly reading the card, Jenkins knew immediately that it was not Ezekiel's – it was Cassandra's. And then it hit him – he thought back to her peculiar behavior, and all of the pieces began to fit together, causing a knot to form in the pit of his abdomen.
Her tumor had gotten worse.
Then Jenkins had another realization and, instead of feeling like the noble knight that he was, he felt like the biggest heel that had ever existed and hung his head in shame where he stood.
She'd gotten bad news – the worst news – and she'd come to him with an emotionally charged request that he'd turned down with one excuse after another, offering none of the sensitivity that the situation called for. If he'd known, he would have handled things very differently. Why hadn't she told him?
Now that he had all of the facts, Jenkins was fairly certain that Cassandra wasn't looking for true love or a committed relationship or 'forever' from him as he'd assumed – she'd come to him looking for some solace, security and comfort. No wonder she'd been so snippy with him when he'd mentioned Flynn having dated a vampire. He couldn't blame her, really. God, he wished he'd known. He felt absolutely awful.
Jenkins rushed to dial up a door. He needed to speak with that doctor as soon as possible.
Jenkins had experienced sadness in many forms over many centuries – he was no stranger to the darkness and despair that humans dealt with, having experienced some of his own. Being immortal didn't make him immune to suffering, though the sting wasn't as harsh, he supposed. However, upon his return from his brief visit with Dr. Nassir, he found himself more sad than he could remember being in a long time. The thought of losing Cassandra was more than his complicated brain could handle. And the odd thing was that her being terminal wasn't news – he'd known that already. Still, to hear just how close she was to death now was beyond upsetting. In a way, he'd been thinking like humans did, assuming they had more time. But time was up; the last grains of sand were falling through the hourglass.
As Jenkins wandered aimlessly around the Annex, his thoughts were consumed with Cassandra. She was such a gentle soul. And brilliant. Tumor-enhanced brain or not, she was highly intelligent. The Library needed her.
I need her, added a small voice from somewhere in the back of his mind that he didn't know was there.
Jenkins didn't have time to think about the surprise voice and what it meant. Filled with determination, he stopped pacing and gathered his things. He had to get to her and soon. If the situation was as dire as the doctor had made it sound, Cassandra was looking at days if she was lucky. Maybe hours.
After spotting Cassandra by the two vampires and noticing that she was holding her head in her hand, Jenkins sprinted across the lawn as fast as he could towards her. Pushing everyone out of his way, he reached her just in time, immediately scooping her up in his arms when she collapsed, barely aware of his name being whispered by her in her semi-conscious state. His heart raced – it actually thundered inside his chest – as he hurried through one door and into another to take her to the hospital. It couldn't be too late. It just couldn't.
Upon arriving at the hospital, Cassandra was rushed to the emergency room and prepped for surgery while the neurosurgeon was paged. Thankfully, Dr. Nassir was there and hurried to get ready to operate. Jake and Ezekiel kept their distance mostly because they were worried and felt helpless. Jenkins paced up and down the hall – his mind a jumble of incoherent thoughts – until they wheeled Cassandra out of ER and towards the operating room.
As Jenkins walked beside of the gurney, the tears filling Cassandra's beautiful eyes broke his heart with each step. He put on his brave face for her, of course, but on the inside, and for the first time in centuries, he did not feel brave. In fact, he didn't think that it was even possible for him to feel the tremendous amount of fear that he did currently.
"I'm so scared," she confessed.
"I know you are," he said, his voice gentle. "Mr. Carsen and Colonel Baird are on their way. We'll all be right out here waiting for you. We're not going anywhere."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she cried with a slight shake of her head. "I just couldn't process this."
"No need to apologize," Jenkins insisted. "But don't you ever lie to me again." He'd realized while waiting for Cassandra to be prepped for surgery that he'd felt the slightest bit hurt that she'd kept something so serious from him. If she'd thought enough of him to ask him on a date, she should have thought enough of him to tell him about her last appointment with Dr. Nassir. Then he realized that he was being selfish and felt awful all over again. He had no right to feel in any way entitled when it came to her. He was just so worried.
"Even if I survive the surgery, I don't know who I am without this. It's what made me a Librarian."
Jenkins wished that he could stop the stretcher and just hold her for a moment, which was an odd feeling for him. She was terrified of dying yet here she was concerned about her Librarian status. There was so much that he wanted to say, so he tried to be brief.
"No, it did not make you a Librarian, the Library did, and it didn't choose a tumor – it chose a person – someone who I love very much."
"It's time," the nurse told them before Jenkins could give much thought to what he'd just said.
As tears slipped from the corners of Cassandra's eyes and wet the pillow, she tried to show Jenkins a brave smile, but he knew that she was crumbling on the inside. Desperate to connect with her, he grabbed her arm to offer what support and encouragement he could before she was pulled away from him, the door to the operating room closing behind them. She was gone, and he didn't know if he'd see her alive again or not. He thought that he might be physically ill.
Once Flynn and Eve arrived, Jenkins explained what had happened and then went to get tea mostly because he needed to get away and try to rein in his thoughts and emotions. He didn't think that he would ever forget the look of terror on Cassandra's face as they wheeled her away. He didn't care how long it took – he wasn't leaving until she was out of surgery, and he was certain everyone else felt the same. They were an eclectic mix of personalities to be sure, but they were a family.
Flynn and Eve were feeling particularly guilty for being away while so much was going on. Jake and Ezekiel felt as if they should have noticed that something was wrong, especially when she'd returned from seeing Dr. Nassir acting like she'd had too much caffeine. But only Jenkins felt as if he'd hurt her – betrayed her even – for turning her away when she'd needed him the most. She could have gone to the only other female for comfort, but she hadn't. She could have gone to one of the younger men, but she hadn't done that, either.
She'd come to him. It had taken a tremendous amount of courage for her to do that, and he'd brushed her off and treated her as a naïve teenager with a misplaced crush.
Unable to sit still, Jenkins began to pace again. Why had he given her all those excuses, anyway? Yes, they were true to a point, but there had to be more behind it. He told himself that he didn't want to hurt her, but in reality, he supposed that he didn't want her to hurt him. What she'd told him in her anger was true; he just hadn't wanted to accept it when she'd said it. And he did have a great love once that he'd pledged himself to, but he'd certainly had no problem telling Cassandra that he loved her. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd told someone that and so easily. It was out of his mouth before he'd realized what he'd said. But he'd certainly meant it.
Cassandra was young and so very beautiful – he could admit that – and she would more than likely want a family one day, which he would not be able to give her, of course. And even if she didn't for some reason, he would be forced to watch everyone around him – including her – grow old and die as he'd done countless times already.
Immortality came with a horribly steep price.
He supposed that that was what made him distant from everyone – he'd deliberately changed his demeanor centuries ago because it was just easier all around to stay an arm's length away from others. He could also focus on his work that way as he was a natural loner and had been for a very long time, hence his position within the Library.
Jenkins shook his head. When had he become so selfish? He was surrounded by amazing people – granted, he hadn't wanted them there initially, but they were still amazing people. And they were on the verge of possibly losing the brightest and most precious soul that he'd seen in hundreds of years.
He'd meant what he'd told her doctor – Cassandra was his family. They all were, but perhaps it was time to admit that he did have a bit of a soft spot for her. Perhaps it was also time to rethink all those excuses that he'd rattled off to her. They didn't seem so important at the moment.
It had been over three hours. Jenkins had told everyone that no news was good news, but deep inside he was worried. Was this the normal time expected for brain surgery or had something gone wrong? Having no update was leading him to assume the worst, and the knot in his stomach was growing exponentially.
He'd tried looking through magazines, he'd gotten more tea and he'd even played some sort of electronic game about emotionally distraught birds that Ezekiel had shown him, but he ended up pacing again and thinking back over the last couple years.
Jenkins trusted the Library implicitly. He trusted it with his immortal life, however, he had questioned its choices in multiple librarians, and not just having multiples – he'd questioned the ones that it had brought. Begrudgingly, he had to admit that the eclectic group had grown on him. They had become a family, and that was something that Jenkins had not had in a very, very long time. He loved his solitude – craved it – but he'd discovered that he didn't mind sharing the Library with Flynn, Eve, Cassandra, Jake and Ezekiel.
As Jenkins continued his pacing up and down the hall, he kept replaying the moment that Cassandra collapsed over and over in his mind. After helping Jake and Ezekiel – which had been little more than a stroke of luck – he'd rushed to find her next. While he had come prepared to fight vampires if necessary, she had been the main reason for his arrival. He remembered watching her as he'd run across the lush grounds – noticed her hand cradling her head – and he'd known that the clock was ticking. Moving faster than he thought he was capable of, he'd caught her as her body had finally succumbed to the debilitating effects of the tumor. He could have asked one of the younger men to carry her to the door, but as he'd held her close, the idea never crossed his mind. All he could think of was protecting her at all costs, and even if one of them had reached for her to help, he wouldn't have let go. Sometimes the knight within him just took over.
Jenkins looked up towards the ceiling as he took a ragged breath. She had to be all right. And where was that doctor with an update? Couldn't someone tell them something?
When Dr. Nassir finally emerged another hour later, Jenkins was the first one up. Again, his heart raced, and he felt physically ill as he listened to the doctor discuss the dangerous and complicated surgery. He could not glean from Dr. Nassir's tone if Cassandra was okay or not.
Eve asked what they were all thinking, as she often did in her straightforward way.
"Doctor, just tell us. Did she make it?"
Everyone breathed a heavy sigh of relief when the doctor answered that Cassandra would be in recovery for a couple hours before being moved to a room where they could see her later. The surgery had been a success – though a tricky one – and all of the tumor had been removed from her brain.
Jenkins immediately excused himself to the restroom as soon as the doctor walked away. He was overcome with emotion and refused to allow the others to see his weakness. Once inside, he closed the stall door behind him and looked up, blinking rapidly and willing his tears to go away, covering his mouth with his hands and trying to calm his breathing. The relief was more intense than he'd anticipated it would be, the threat of what could have been still weighing on him heavily. She was going to be okay.
Perhaps he cared a bit more for Cassandra than he thought he did.
The incredible happiness that filled Jenkins' immortal being when he entered that hospital room and saw Cassandra awake was overwhelming. His heart thundered inside his chest again but for a good reason this time. He remained fairly quiet as the others spoke with her and encouraged her, especially after discovering that she hadn't lost her gift, but he didn't miss her tentative glances at him. He offered her a subtle smile and wink and then started to leave. Since she was out of danger, there was nothing more for him to do there, so he planned to return to the Annex and resume his duties.
"Mr. Jenkins," Cassandra's soft voice called out, which was like music to his ears. "Would you mind coming to get me in a couple days when they release me?"
He nodded his head once towards her as any noble knight would. "I certainly will, milady," he answered, pleased to see her smile reach her eyes.
Once everyone returned to the library after visiting hours were over, Eve found Jenkins immediately.
"Are you all right?"
Ever the Guardian she was; always so worried about everyone else. The Library had made an excellent choice with her.
"Of course." Jenkins busied himself with tidying up one of his tables that had been understandably neglected.
"You sure?" Eve pressed, eyeing him curiously and crossing his arms. "Because I noticed the tears in your eyes when you walked away from us. I've never seen you so affected, Jenkins."
He looked at Eve and started to reply but then looked back down at the table. He should have known that she would notice – she didn't miss a thing, which was usually welcomed.
"We almost lost her," he finally responded, focusing on the books that he was stacking. "It was very upsetting and stressful to all of us."
Eve stepped close and touched his arm gently. "Jenkins." Her voice was soft, a contrast to her usually stern tone.
He knew that she wouldn't relent until she had her say, so he looked at her expectantly.
"It's okay to show emotion sometimes," she encouraged. "I don't pretend to understand what it's like to be immortal. I can only imagine how many friends and loved ones that you've lost over the centuries and how that can – understandably – lead to closing yourself off. But please don't. Especially from Cassandra."
Jenkins started to speak, but Eve held up her hand.
"Hear me out. I have Flynn, but even if I didn't, I have military training; I don't require much emotional support. Jake and Ezekiel don't, either. Cassandra's different. Now, I'm not saying she's weak because God knows she's not. But she does need a bit more support. From all of us. Especially you."
"I have always supported Miss Cillian. I have always supported all of you."
"Yes, but often from behind closed doors and neutral face expressions. Just…be stoic with the rest of us and let her see a tiny bit of emotion. She thinks the world of you, you know."
Jenkins met Eve's eyes then with a look similar to being caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar, and he wondered just how much she knew. Cassandra hadn't told Eve of her interest in him, had she? He knew they were very close. The way Eve tilted her head and smirked just the slightest bit told him that he'd given away more than he'd intended. An understanding was obvious in her gaze.
Jenkins offered a placating smile and tried once more to focus on his current task of cleaning up. "I think you know that I'm fond of her, as well," he admitted, his voice not much louder than a whisper. "She's very special."
Eve smiled sweetly and patted his shoulder a couple times. "Don't be afraid to let her know that," she said before walking away.
Jenkins sighed once she was out of the room, feeling very confused. His thoughts and feelings towards Cassandra had taken a sharp curve the last couple days, and he could in no way ignore them as he was wont to do. But what could he do about them?
Tea. He needed tea. It always helped him think.
Over the next couple of days, the group took turns visiting Cassandra. Jenkins avoided being alone with her until it was time to take her home. He knew that an unspoken conversation hung in the air between them, and he was putting it off as long as he could.
Jenkins walked into the hospital room, pleased to see Cassandra dressed in her typical brightly colored clothing and sitting up.
"Ready to go home?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed beside of her, a gesture he would never have done if someone else had been there.
Cassandra grinned at him. "I'm more than ready, Mr. Jenkins. Just waiting for paperwork and a wheelchair. I can't wait to get out of here. I have so much living and librarianing to do!"
Something told him that there was more behind her statement, but he didn't ask; he was too happy seeing her excitement. He did want to address one thing, though. "Perhaps you could call me Jenkins," he suggested, lowering his voice. "I think the mister part is a bit formal at this point, don't you?"
She looked apologetic, glancing down into her lap. "I only ever used it out of respect for you. I thought you preferred formal."
"I usually do," he confirmed, starting to reach for her hand but then stopping himself. "But perhaps when it's just us, we could be a little less formal." Remembering his chat with Eve, he added, "You know, you had us extremely worried." He cleared his throat. "I was especially worried about you, Cassandra." He'd never addressed her by her first name before. It felt…right.
She looked down into her lap again, her face colored by both a blush and guilt. "I didn't know how to tell anyone," she admitted with a shake of her head. "I mean, I couldn't acknowledge it myself, so trying to tell someone else…"
"And that's completely understandable," he agreed, lifting her chin with his fore finger, his ancient eyes seeking to connect with hers. "But, promise me, if you ever have any issue with anything again – especially regarding your health – that you will at least come to me. Please."
Cassandra nodded. "I will, Mr. – um – I will, Jenkins. And thank you again. I remember you being there just before I passed out. You caught me, I think."
"I did," he confirmed. "And you've told me thank you already."
"I just wanted to make sure you knew how appreciative I was." Cassandra gave him a shy smile and bit her bottom lip.
He couldn't help but return her smile, his shoulders relaxing some where he sat. "I think I do."
They were interrupted when a nurse came in with a wheelchair.
"Here we are, Miss Cillian," she said. "Post op instructions that we went over earlier are in this envelope along with your pain medicine script that you need to have filled as soon as you can. Ready to go?"
"More than!"
Jenkins stood and instinctively reached for Cassandra's arm to assist her from the bed and into the chair, though she didn't really need it. He walked behind the nurse as she rolled Cassandra out of the hospital and to the front entrance.
"Shall I wait for you to get your vehicle?"
"Oh – it's…uh…yes, I'll go get it. No need for you to wait, though. We'll be fine now. Thank you."
The nurse said her goodbyes to Cassandra and wheeled the chair back inside.
"Where's the door?"
"Around to the side. Follow me."
Upon returning to the Annex, there was a big welcome from everyone that included a banner, a cake and balloons. Jenkins joined them briefly but then quietly retreated to his private quarters. Cassandra would find the bouquet of Edelweiss that he'd left in her room at some point, and he hoped that it would bring her happiness. He never entered anyone's private rooms, but he thought that this one time might be okay.
As he prepared tea, Jenkins allowed his thoughts to wander. It had been so easy for him to push personal thoughts aside, but the last three days, he hadn't been able to concentrate on anything but Cassandra. There was a part of him that wanted to forget about her asking him to dinner and chalk it up to her acting out of fear and desperation, but he didn't think that that was fair to her. For once, he wasn't really certain what to do. He'd participated in many battles throughout his long lifetime – discussed strategies, led charges and such – but they'd all been external. Now, the battle was internal, and he was lost. How did one fight with one's self and win?
Around two in the morning, Jenkins was sitting in his room dressed in silk pajamas and a matching robe with leather slippers reading an ancient Sanskrit text when a soft knock startled him. Instantly concerned, he hastily put the tome down and hurried to the door.
"Cassandra…what's wrong? Is everyone all right?"
Her eyes shifted around nervously as she played with her hands that were clasped in front of her. "Yes, everyone's fine. Sorry to bother you so late, I just – "
"You are not bothering me," he quickly assured her, his face muscles relaxing now that he knew there was no emergency. It was then that he noticed her clothes, and he wished he hadn't. She was wearing a light pink colored outfit that was little more than shorts and a tank top with a terry cloth robe that only reached her knees and fuzzy slippers in the shape of what looked like rabbits. It made him shift his eyes upward and adjust his robe, making sure that it was closed completely. He did not usually see anyone while in such a state of undress; him or them.
Cassandra smiled in relief, shifting her weight from one foot to another. "I – um – I wanted to say thank you for the flowers that you left in my room. They're beautiful. Edelweiss, right?"
"Yes, I picked them fresh from Switzerland. They represent courage, and you're one of the most courageous women I know." He felt proud that she'd recognized them. They were not as common in America as they were in Europe, so he wasn't sure if she would know what they were or not. He should have known that she would, though.
When a blush colored her cheeks again, Jenkins found that he was beginning to like the fact he could make her react like that. He wasn't used to it and couldn't help but feel flattered.
"I've never had anyone give me flowers," she admitted, glancing down nervously at her slippers.
Jenkins' eyebrows furrowed. Certainly she'd had many suitors who had bestowed such gifts upon her. "I find that impossible to believe."
She shook her head. "No, really! No one. I haven't had many boyfriends. I was too nerdy, I guess."
"Well, their loss, I say," Jenkins complimented. "Since you're up, would you like me to make you some tea?" He knew the peppermint and spearmint blend that he made was her favorite.
"No, I don't want to be a bother. I just couldn't sleep – my tumor-free mind racing and all – and I wanted to tell you thank you for the flowers since – "
"Cassandra," he interrupted, smirking at her rambling that he found quite endearing. "I'll make some of your favorite tea and we'll sit for a bit out in the Annex and chat."
She grinned, wringing her hands together again and nodded. "Well…okay. I'd like that."
Three days later, Flynn and Eve went hiking again since their trip had been cut short before, Ezekiel and Jake went to a museum in Cairo and Cassandra returned to the retreat to see Estrella.
While everyone was out, Jenkins enjoyed a quiet lunch. He and Cassandra had had a very nice time the other night. He'd made them tea and had suggested chatting in the Annex since they were both up, but she'd suggested using the door to go to Switzerland to see Edelweiss flowers. He'd thought of reminding her that she'd just had major surgery and should be in bed asleep, but then he remembered her statement about having so much living to do and decided that she could sleep tomorrow night. If she wanted to go, he'd dial up the door for her, no question.
They'd changed quickly, since both of them had been in their pajamas, and then walked through the door and straight into wild Edelweiss fields, the same ones that he'd visited to pick her flowers. They'd walked and sipped tea as he'd told her about the flowers and some of the history of the area, and it wasn't long before she'd slipped her arm through the crook of his. Having a lady strolling along with him through fields of wild flowers made him feel like quite the gallant gentleman. He'd liked it. Very much.
Upon returning a couple hours later (he'd insisted when she'd begun to yawn), Jenkins escorted Cassandra to her room and bid her goodnight. To his surprise, she'd simultaneously pulled on his arm and stood on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek before quickly closing her bedroom door.
He'd ended up replaying the entire event in his mind many times since then. Spending that time with her helped him to see that even though he'd pledged himself to the woman that he'd mentioned to Cassandra, it didn't mean that he couldn't care for another. After all, he'd emphatically told her as she was being wheeled into surgery that he loved her. And he did. No one would be what she was to him, but who said anyone had to be? Why couldn't they be something else? Weren't there many different types of love? And who said it had to be all or none? If he'd learned anything from watching human behavior for the last number of centuries, it was that everything changed – everything evolved. It had to for survival.
Maybe Jenkins needed to attempt a little more evolving himself.
Later that day, Jenkins was sitting at a desk cleaning an ancient Roman artifact that had originally belonged to Emperor Hadrian when Cassandra returned from the retreat.
"Have a nice time?" he asked politely, glancing up at her. Something about her appearance caught his attention, though, and he had to look at her again, his gaze focused. She was radiant – nearly glowing – with a knowing smirk on her face. As she made her way to him in a confident, easy stride that was not her normal walk, he became concerned. "You didn't ask Estrella to – "
Cassandra shook her head. "No, but I had a rather magical moment all the same."
With no warning, Cassandra approached him at the desk where he sat, cupped his face in her soft hands and placed a simple kiss on his mouth. He was so shocked – he made a strange whimper sound in the back of his throat and was immediately mortified. Before he knew it, she pulled away and sat on the edge of the desk. He opened his mouth to speak, but he had no idea what to say, so he closed it and looked away, frantically trying to come up with some sort of appropriate response.
"Listen," she began. "I know that you're never going to ask me to marry you or any of that kind of stuff, but I don't think one dinner and one movie will hurt, especially after we had such a good time in Switzerland the other night. We can even go Dutch if you prefer."
Jenkins couldn't remember the last time that he'd been kissed by a beautiful woman. Granted, it had just been a quick touch of her lips to his, but still. It was…nice. He'd forgotten how nice it could be, and in that moment, what little resolve he might have had left disappeared as quickly as incense smoke in the wind.
"You do make it difficult to say no," he admitted, finally finding his voice, though it was a bit shakier than normal. He stood up and straightened his coat and tie. All of his thinking the past few days had brought him to the conclusion that he could no longer hide behind his past. There were elements of his being that he would not compromise, of course, but there were some other elements that he did need to compromise for his own sanity and happiness. He rarely capitalized on any rights that he had, assumed or otherwise, but he did deserve happiness. "I do believe that a night out with a beautiful lady is long overdue."
"Really?" she responded excitedly, her eyes wide, but then she looked quite serious. "What about the woman that you swore the oath to? I don't want you to do something that might somehow jeopardize your honor."
Jenkins was not surprised at Cassandra's thoughtfulness and reached for her hand, placing a gentlemanly kiss on the top of it in appreciation.
"My heart is not so small as to only have room for one person in it. As a very special lady reminded me – I have all of this life, and I haven't been doing anything with it. When there are people around who would do anything just to live one full life, I can't in good conscience avoid living mine any longer. It isn't fair, as you said, and I think it's time to change that." He paused, lifting a finger and both eyebrows. "I think you understand that there will be limitations, though."
Cassandra nodded, standing up from the desk and looking more beautiful and excited than he'd ever seen her. "Of course," she agreed, her eyes bright and glittering like jewels. "I'm glad you changed your mind."
Jenkins smiled at her and shook his head in disbelief of her unwavering enthusiasm. "The age difference and immortal bit really don't faze you, do they?"
With a grin, Cassandra shook her head. "Not in the slightest." She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on tight. "Thank you for being there, Jenkins. You are truly my knight in shining armor."
His initial reaction was to hold still as being that close to another human wasn't familiar to him, but he quickly accepted the fact that he wanted to be close to her, and that it was okay. He bent down so that he could wrap his arms around her waist and pull her to him, making sure to keep a proper space between the lower halves of their bodies.
"I'll always be there for you, Cassandra," he promised, locks of her fragrant hair tickling his face and making him smile. Yes, perhaps spending some time with her was just what he needed. Jenkins stepped away from her and then reached for her hand. "Come, milady. Let us make dinner plans. And just for the record, Knights of the Round Table do not go Dutch. "
I'm not sure if I want this to be a one shot as is or maybe add a couple extra chapters. What do you think?