Cassandra sat at a table in a small room near the Library's kitchen, staring balefully at the glass of prune juice in front of her.

"Hey," Jake's voice came from the doorway behind her.

Cassandra didn't look up, "I hate prune juice."

"Yeah, well, at least your wrists don't smell like," Jake took a seat across from her at the table, sniffing at one of his wrists, "old sunscreen and kitty litter."

Cassandra softened, giving Jake a sad and sympathetic look, "Do they hurt?"

"Nah," Jake shrugged it off, "I've had worse."

"I'm so sorry," Cassandra said miserably. The more she thought about what had happened, the guiltier she felt.

"Not your fault," Jake leaned forward, his arms crossed and resting on the table.

Cassandra snorted bitterly, "You sure about that?"

"Hey," Jake said softly, something in his voice making Cassandra look up and meet his gaze, "We both made mistakes today. I mean, when I think about the way I drank and acted a fool with those guys?" Jake shook his head, "I was an idiot."

"You didn't know that there was anything wrong," Cassandra argued, not sure why she was trying to make him feel better, because earlier she'd been livid about his behavior.

Jake raised his eyebrows, "Really, Cassie?" He snorted, "Because there were plenty of signs that something was up. You, for one," Jake began ticking things off on his fingers, "You tried to tell me, and I didn't try hard enough to figure out what you meant. I just left you alone with those things. Then Olafsson and Norman had a lively debate about natural disasters and cholera outbreaks, I'd say that counts as strange. Oh, uh, they said they hadn't seen Finklestein in 150 years, and, oh, yeah, there was the lovely phrase 'flesh-bags.' Should have known something wasn't right about that one." Jake shook his head, sighing, "Don't make excuses for me, Cass, I don't deserve it."

Cassandra wasn't sure what to say. She couldn't meet Jake's eyes, so she ran her finger over the glass of juice in front of her. Finally, she spoke, "What is this, Jacob?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Cassandra took a deep, looking up, "What are you doing?"

Jake frowned, confused, "I'm talking to you, Cassie."

"I know," Cassandra cocked her head to the side and made a face, not sure how to phrase what she was trying to say. "But didn't we already talk?"

"Are we only allowed to have one conversation after a dangerous mission?" Jake asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Usually, that's how it works," Cassandra said softly. She wasn't being accusatory or sarcastic, just soft and almost sad.

Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Look, we talked about the magic." He paused, and Cassandra nodded to indicate that they'd come to a semi-agreement on that front. "But I just needed to apologize for leaving you alone and goofing off like that."

Cassandra gave him another one of her small smiles, "Don't worry about it, Stone. I took care of myself."

Jake nodded, "I know, but you shouldn't have had to. You—you got things done, you figured things out, you did the job. And I was—" he waved a hand in the air, words not coming out. "I just can't help but think, what would have happened if someone said the name of that crystal earlier? What if, while I was goofing off with Olafsson, they went ahead and sacrificed you and I didn't even know about it? I wouldn't have been able to live with myself, Cassie." Jake couldn't meet her eyes, so they both sat and looked at the table, not speaking.

"I'm sorry too," Cassandra said after a minute, "For, well, you know." She didn't really want to get into the magic discussion again, so she just said, "But, I think we made a good team today?" It ended up coming out more like a question.

Jake smiled broadly, the smile that made his eyes crinkle, "Of course we did. We always do."

"Just," Cassandra took a deep breath, "just gotta have a little faith, right?"

Jake looked at her intently for a minute, and then nodded seriously, "Exactly."

"So, does this mean . . ?" Cassandra trailed off, and then started again, "I mean, it sounded like you meant that—and if you don't then that's fine, but—"

"Yes," Jake said, smiling because he found her ramblings adorable.

"What?" Cassandra looked up, startled.

"Of course I trust you, Cassie." Jake said it so nonchalantly that Cassandra didn't know what to think, "I have for a while now. I told myself that you could tell, but," Jake shrugged, "A part of me knew that wasn't true. It's way past time I told you."

A grin exploded over Cassandra's face, almost like she couldn't control it, and Jake swore his heart stuttered in his chest.

"I—" Cassandra looked down at her glass again, suddenly feeling unreasonably shy, "I'm glad. I'm so glad. You have no idea—it was killing me."

Jake frowned. "I'm sorry, Cassie."

"No, you had every right—I don't blame you for feeling that way," Cassandra impulsively reached across the table and grabbed his hand, being careful to avoid his rope burns. "I'm just happy that you didn't' give up on us—I mean," she panicked a little, but didn't pull her hand away, "on our friendship. I'm glad you gave me another chance to win back your trust."

Jake smiled and nodded once. They shared a rather intense gaze over their entwined hands, which Jake broke, clearing his throat. "Are you going to drink that, or just stare at it?" he asked, indicating the untouched prune juice.

Cassandra groaned, putting her head in her hands, "Do I really have to?"

Jake shrugged, standing, "I kind of liked the glowing boobs thing."

Cassandra froze, shocked, and didn't even turn her head as Jake walked around the table to the door behind her.

"Night, Cassie!"

A/N I haven't posted anything in forever, but this got in my head and wouldn't leave. I hope you liked it! I thought that after everything that happened, they deserved another conversation, especially about the 'faith' comments.