A/N As I seem to have a problem with finishing Jassandra fanfics (I literally have a whole notebook of Jassandra fics that I've started but never finished) I haven't been able to post anything recently. This was actually supposed to be the beginning of two different stories, but I realized that I would only need to change a few things to make it one finished story. (Funnily enough, I wrote the second half way before I wrote the first half). Please let me know what you think!
It began in a bar. Then again, most of Jacob Stone's potentially bad situations begin in a bar. It had taken him a long time before he found the perfect one in Portland. The parking lot perpetually smelled of cigarette smoke. The dim interior had football relic covered walls, a mediocre sound system always playing some kind of country song, and a widely stocked bar. It felt like home.
Or, what his home had been, before the Library. Jake wasn't sure if it was his nostalgia, the need for an occasional beer, or the need of a life outside of the Library that drove him to that place again and again. (It was probably a combination of all three, especially the last one, so he could find some normalcy by acting like his old self.) After most cases, especially the difficult or exhilarating ones, when Jones, Cassandra, Eve, and Flynn returned home to decompress in their own ways, Jake ended up there, sipping a beer at the same corner table.
And, as he watched a pretty brunette waitress glide from table to table, he had to admit that the scenery wasn't bad either.
Jake wouldn't seriously consider trying anything with any of the plethora of good looking women that frequented the place, because while they were all easy on the eyes, he got to see the most beautiful woman in the world every day at the Library. These women were probably great, but they weren't Cassie.
The brunette waitress he'd noticed earlier caught his eye next, approaching his corner table with the hip-swinging stride of someone who knew exactly what they did to guys like Jake. Or guys like Jake used to be. Old Jake would have found that self-assuredness sexy, but New Librarian Jake preferred the almost-innocence of someone who had no idea how attractive she actually was.
"What's a nice, handsome cowboy doing in Portland?" the brunette, Hannah (Jake recalled seeing her on a few previous visits) stopped right at his elbow.
"Work," Jake fought the urge to roll his eyes, "Do you call every person who comes in here from out of town a 'nice, handsome cowboy'?"
Hannah leaned in conspiringly, giving Jake a full few of some of her other assets, if he cared to look. "If I say yes will you feel less special?"
Jake smiled, "If you bring me another beer, we'll talk about it."
~o0o~
Jake didn't really think much about Hannah except when he was actually in the bar. About a month had passed since their first conversation, and now Hannah made a beeline for him whenever he came in the door. It wasn't a big deal, just flirting, and as Hannah would freely admit, she flirted with everyone, even the old men. Jake wasn't going to stop her, he enjoyed having his ego stroked. Plus, with a bartender pretty much always next to him, it make it easier to get drinks. If he realized the special interest Hannah took in him, he never acknowledged it to himself, or to others (not that there were others, as he didn't think it was important enough to mention, especially not to Cassie).
The day it happened, they didn't have a case, things were easy. Usually those are the days Jake enjoys the most, hanging around with Cassandra, pretending to research, but actually getting too caught up in the redhead beside him to get any work done. It was no different in this instance. Cassandra was talking adamantly about something over Jake's head. He just got caught up watching her, curls bouncing as she flitted as effortlessly from subject to subject as she did moving across the room. Of all the versions of Cassie he'd seen, this was by far his favorite. In that moment, she had no idea how beautiful she looked, in her typical skirt and sweater (though no leggings or tights today, not that he was complaining). She wasn't thinking about anything except what she was trying to explain, not about her tumor, not about how confusing Jake was when he flirted with her, not about anything but her favorite topics.
Jake found her allure today especially powerful.
"Are you even listening to me?" Cassandra asked when she finally noticed how blatantly he was staring at her.
"What? Don't you trust that I can look at a pretty girl and listen to her at the same time?" Jake smiled teasingly, but at the word 'trust' Cassandra's face darkened. Jake cursed internally. How could he be so stupid? He should have told Cassie a long time ago that of course he trusted her, but he'd never been able to work up to courage to bring that particular subject up again. And now anytime either of them said the t-word everything pretty much went to hell.
"I don't know," Cassandra sounded more miffed that she ever had when Jake tried to flirt, "Generally speaking, when someone is staring they're only thinking about what they want." She turned on her heel and left, muttering something about needing another book.
Jake actually let out a small curse when Cassandra was out of earshot. This day was quickly turning from his favorite type of day to about the worst type of day.
Later, when Cassandra finally returned, after Jake had reluctantly tried to get some work done, he was ready to just be done and get to the bar so he could have a few drinks and listen to Hannah shower him with meaningless flattery. He knew that was a dangerous way to feel, but he didn't care.
"Hey," Cassandra put a stack of books on the table and moved closer to him. She spoke softly, as if she thought that if she spoke quietly she could pretend that she'd never spoken if something went wrong. "Do you want to go get drinks when you're done?"
Jake bit his lip, not looking at her. "Nope," he said sharply. Cassandra's face fell, but she recovered quickly. When Jake saw the way her face crumbled, he added, "I've got plans," trying to take the sting from his works but it was too late.
"Oh. Well, have fun then," Cassandra tried to smile, but couldn't quite manage it.
"Cassie?" Jake called after her, kicking himself.
"Yeah?"
"Maybe tomorrow?" he offered, coming around the table toward her.
"Nope," Cassandra's expression was unreadable, "I have plans." She left.
~o0o~
Hannah was the first thing Jake saw when he entered the bar. She was leaned up against a table talking to a couple of men, but she must have seen something in Jake's face, because she abandoned them with hardly a word.
"You look like you could use some cheering up," Hannah put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
Jake grunted, which was apparently enough communication, because Hannah went to get him a beer.
Things escalated as the night went on, as they tend to do, and somehow, though the action was not purely accidental on the part of either party involved, Jake ended up at Hannah's apartment.
~o0o~
Jake's phone kept ringing, and it was driving Cassandra crazy. Usually something like that, especially coming from Jake, wouldn't bother her in the slightest. But she had an idea of who was on the other end, and she couldn't help flinching every time that shrill little noise cut through the otherwise empty air.
It didn't make Cassandra feel any better that Jake seemed embarrassed that the girl kept calling him.
He'd come in that morning talking to her. Cassandra jumped up, smiling, to greet him just like every morning (she'd been doing it much more effusively since their fight a month ago) but he'd barely glanced at her, all his attention focused on talking evenly into his cell phone.
"Hannah, why do you care if I came last night?" Jake's tone betrayed none of the annoyance that Cassandra knew he felt. She wondered if this Hannah person would have been able to tell Jake's feelings just by how he plunked his bag on his desk. Cassandra seriously doubted it.
She sat down at her own place slowly. It hadn't been hard to deduce that Jake had been seeing someone. She'd noticed little cues, little signs, that there was a woman in Jake's life. The night of her and Jake's fight must have been their first date, because after that, despite his attempts to hide it, Cassandra found the whole thing all too obvious.
This was, however, the first time he'd ever said her name, or overtly acknowledged she existed. Cassandra couldn't keep herself from wondering who this Hannah was. What was she like? What did she do that got Jake's attention so much? (One of the things that Cassandra had noticed was how Jake no longer flirted with her, or even looked at her if he could avoid it, so obviously there was something that Hannah was doing right hat Cassandra was doing wrong. Although, it could just be that Jake is a gentleman and wouldn't pay another woman any attention when he's in a relationship. Or that Jake wasn't really interested in Cassandra in the first place. The only thing Cassandra was sure of was that this digression did nothing to help her sanity or make her feel better about Jake and his ringing phone.)
"Of course I didn't know you expected me to be there. It's just a bar. No—no I know you work there but why would I—to see you? I'm sorry I didn't realize my free time suddenly revolved around you and that bar," Jake continued, seemingly oblivious to the shocked look on Cassandra's face. "It was one night Hannah, and it was a mistake! I shouldn't have let anything go on this long." Jake hung up, slamming his phone down so hard it was a wonder he didn't crack it.
"So. . . How's it going?" Cassandra asked awkwardly after a minute, figuring she should say something but not sure what that something should be.
Jake forced a smile, "Oh, life's great. This girl I slept with once won't stop calling me, and since she works at my favorite bar, I can't even go get a beer to drown my troubles into. But everything's fine, Cass, just fine."
Cassandra frowned, "I'm sorry," She grabbed her notebook and stood up, "I hope you and your girlfriend get it sorted out." She fled up the stairs.
Now, even though she couldn't see him anymore, Cassandra could still hear his phone every few minutes. Something about the fact that he had a whole other life, another girl, that Cassandra knew nothing about rubbed her the wrong way. Sure, Cassandra knew about his art and his genius and his job, but her never let her in on a personal level, or basically retracted everything when he did. She was usually able to forget about how much that hurt her when Jake was around, but Jake hadn't been around since Hannah came into his life.
Cassandra didn't get a single thing down, and Jake's phone just kept ringing.
After at least twenty minutes, he finally answered. Cassandra couldn't at first make out what he was saying, but she did hear at the very end Jake say, "I'm really sorry, Hannah. Sure, I'll see you around."
Cassandra wasn't quite sure why she was upset that Jake had apparently patched things up with Hannah (or she was lying to herself about her true feelings, which was probably the case). She knew she should be happy for Jake (or at least happy that now the phone would stop ringing), but for some reason she found herself wondering if she wouldn't rather it ring.
~o0o~
"Cassie?" Jake called after the redhead, but she was already up the stairs. Of course she was after the way he'd snapped at her. That wasn't how he'd wanted to tell her about Hannah.
He supposed he deserved for both of them to be mad at him.
Hannah . . . Hannah had just been someone that Jake used to help himself forget his troubles, and then continued to see because his guilt wouldn't let him break things off. Honestly, he was probably using his continuing dalliance with Hannah as a penance for how he'd treated both of them.
Every time he'd flirted with Hannah, every time he'd kissed her, he thought of Cassandra, and what she'd think of his antics, of his motives. He knew he'd screwed up by not telling Cassandra he trusted her; he'd come to realize that he'd never be able to understand how that brain grape made her feel.
He had apparently been right about what Cassandra would thing of his thing with Hannah, judging by her face when he came in.
For the twentieth time in as many minutes, his phone rang, but this time he broke himself out of his thoughts, sucked up his self-pity, and answered it.
He owed two women an apology and he might as well start with the easy one.
"Hannah?"
"I don't understand," Hannah sounded pitiful, and Jake really just wanted to let out a stream of cuss words, but his momma raised him better than that.
"Look," Jake said softly, "I shouldn't have led you on like I did, but I, uh," he rubbe dhte back of his neck, "I'm in love with someone else, and I—"
"I was a rebound right?" Hannah interrupted bitterly, "Should have figured as much, the way you looked when you came in the bar."
Jake didn't bother correcting her, because in some ways she was right, "I'm really sorry, Hannah," he said louder, not sure what else there was to say.
"Well, at least don't stop coming to get a drink, okay?" Hannah sounded sad, but resigned, and overall was taking this better than Jake had expected.
"Sure, I'll see you around."
When he heard the click on the other end, Jake let out a he sigh, and turned his eyes to where he knew Cassie was.
~o0o~
Cassandra blinked, and a tear fell onto the blank page of her notebook. She swiped at it with her finger, wrinkling the page.
She knew she was being stupid. Logically she knew Jake and his—Hannah (she wouldn't call her his girlfriend until she knew that's really what they were).
She heard footsteps on the stairs. "Cassie?" Jake poked his head into view.
Cassandra sniffed involuntarily, mentally cursing whatever it was that made her so strangely emotional. "What now?" she asked, but her tone had no bite. She was beyond being angry. Regardless, Jake winced, and Cassandra immediately felt horrible, "Sorry, Jake, I just—"
"No problem," Jake interrupted, thankfully preventing her from having to explain herself. He crouched down next to where she was sitting with her back against a shelf.
"What's up?" Cassandra asked nervously, closing her notebook and rubbing a finger over the spine.
Jake did not miss the gesture or what it meant. "I wanted to apologize for being so short with you earlier. I was just frustrated because Hannah—I mean—"
"You don't have to explain," Cassandra said when Jake seemed to be at a loss for words.
"No, I do." The problem was, Jake wasn't sure how much he wanted or needed to explain.
He paused for such a long time that Cassandra wasn't quite sure if he was going to explain anything. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, rubbing the back of his neck, "Remember when we got into that argument about a month ago?" Cassandra nodded. "That was the day I finally said yes to Hannah. It was stupid."
"Don't take this the wrong way, but why are you telling me this?" Cassandra asked quietly.
"Because I wanted you to know. I just broke up with her."
Cassandra blinked. "Really? Why?"
"Because I don't love her, and I don't think I ever will. She's not my type."
"Then why—What's your type?"
"Redheaded, crazy into science, beautiful blue eyes, and a tendency to hallucinate math problems." Jake didn't look at Cassandra, but at the notebook in her hand.
Cassandra didn't speak.
"Why can't you understand?" Jake sighed, "I'm in love with you, Cassie. Hannah . . . well, Hannah was the way I proved that to myself, as awful as that is."
Cassandra didn't know what to think. So she didn't speak.
Jake saw her deer-in-the-headlights look, the uncertain was she fiddle with the hem of her sweater. He took all that to mean she didn't feel the same way, but wasn't sure how to tell him. "I just thought you should know," he added awkwardly, standing. He walked away.
"Jake!" Cassandra came to her senses, finally, and ran after him. He was halfway down the stairs when she got to the top. He paused, half turning in time to see her try to charge down the stairs. She tripped and came flying down the steps.
With barely time to think, Jake caught her around the waist to keep her from tumbling the rest of the way down the steps, but her momentum sent him backwards too, so they both ended up in a heap on bottom step when it was all said and done. He'd managed to keep himself between Cassie and the ground, so she appeared to be okay, but his back was on fire.
"Sorry," Cassandra whispered, wincing. She hadn't moved from on top of him.
"Are you hurt?" Jake asked, concerned that maybe he hadn't done as good a job as he'd thought of keeping her from hurting herself.
Cassandra frowned, like she was taking inventory. "No, I don't think so. You?"
"My back has seen better days," Jake winced, flexing, "It took a bit of a beating."
"Oh!" Cassandra tried to scramble off of him, seeming to just now realize that she'd basically been straddling him since they hit the floor, "I'm so sorry, I—"
"Don't worry about it," Jake interrupted. "It won't be worse than a bruise." He smiled, trying to sit up. Cassandra was still very close to him, practically curled up by his side. "Uh, what did you need?"
"Oh!" Cassandra looked startled, "Um, well . . ." she leaned in and kissed him, surprising him, but he was smart enough to just enjoy it. It wasn't a particularly long and involved kiss; just like she'd started it, Cassandra ended it, ducking her head and burying her head in his chest. Was she embarrassed?
Jake didn't say anything, but after a few seconds of silence he began to chuckle, a deep rumbling chuckle that Cassandra felt more than heard.
Cassandra raised her head, "Are you laughing at me?" She was blushing.
"Sorry, darlin'. I just—" Jake started laughing again, and this time Cassandra joined in.
Jones, Eve, and Jenkins, drawn by the noise, found them tangled at the bottom of the stairs, laughing loudly.
"Is everything alright?" Eve asked, eyebrows raised.
"Everything's perfect," Cassandra answered for the both of them, and kissed Jake again in front of everyone, just because she could. Because Jake was in love with her. And everything really was perfect.