DISCLAIMER: I own nothing to do with the Librarians or Leverage, sadly. All rights in this work are hereby given to those who do.
Quinn receives an unexpected text. Part of the Brothers-verse, this takes place sometime after "Conversations."
L ~ L ~ L ~ L ~ L
Not many things surprised Jonah Quinn anymore. The text he'd just received was on the short list of things that had.
It wasn't the words - he'd been propositioned by text message before, and in terms far more descriptive than, Buy you a drink?
No, what surprised him about this text message was the sender.
He'd met Colonel Eve Baird exactly once - when both he and the colonel had been recruited by Eliot Spencer to help him save his twin brother, Jacob Stone, from Damien Moreau.
Their brief interaction meant that he had no idea what the meaning behind her question was - whether it was I need someone to talk to and you're it, or I'm looking to get lucky, care to help, or anything in between.
There was, Quinn knew, only one way to find out. I'm in Barcelona, he texted back.
What time is it there?
2030, he typed. Early enough that the bars won't be too crowded.
Pick one.
Quinn paused a moment, considering. Barcelona's nightlife was epic, on the verge of becoming legendary, but that didn't mean he wanted to be inundated with too-young, too-hip, too-drunk partiers. Nor did it mean he wanted to choose a bar too close to his hotel.
Real. He added the address and sent the text, then some impulse made him send, I'll have the first round waiting.
I'll be there in twenty.
Quinn put his phone away. Twenty minutes was plenty of time to get to Ideal and order drinks.
#
Eve Baird strode into Real, scanning her surroundings for potential threats from long habit. No apparent threats tonight, thankfully - but there was Quinn, sitting at a far table. With a smile at the bartender, Eve threaded her way through the crowd that would only get thicker as the night went on toward her quarry.
"Colonel." Quinn rose to greet her, offered his hand.
She shook it briskly, then eyed the two glasses on the table before him. "What's that?"
"The one's a piña colada," he said. "House specialty. They import the coconut milk as well as the rum. Or, if you're not into yoga, a glass of tempranillo from Rioja."
Eve couldn't help grinning at the song reference. "I have half a brain, thanks, but if they import the coconut milk, I have to try it."
She suited action to words, tasting the sweetness of the coconut milk and the burn of the rum. "You have good taste."
Quinn only nodded, and Eve allowed herself another sip before she met his gaze. "How much has Stone told you about us? What we do?"
"Enough. That magic's real and it's like dirty nukes and you guys are NEST."
"He has a knack for analogies."
"Said he got that one from you."
"At least he listened to something I said."
Quinn chuckled, but she continued before he could speak.
"Stone and the others, they're Librarians."
"You're not?"
Eve shook her head. "I'm their Guardian. The brawn to their brains, it's been said."
"Sounds interesting."
"It can be. It can also be exhausting and frustrating as hell."
Quinn studied her for a long moment, then nodded once.
Her hackles rose. "What?"
Quinn just shrugged. "I've been wondering what the subtext was. Now I know. You need to bitch."
Eve felt her eyebrows pulling together. "What else would I -"
He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she got it.
"Oh. No, not that," she said. "I'm seeing someone, actually."
"I'm up for that, too, if that ever changes or he's ever the problem."
His casual delivery made her blink in surprise, but that he didn't seem inclined to rush even though he knew the night wouldn't end in sex was a bigger surprise, and told her she'd made the right choice when she'd contacted him.
"So - what are you bitching about, Colonel?"
That made her groan. "What am I not bitching about? You might want to order another round."
#
Quinn ordered several tapas to go with the second round, and settled in to listen while Eve Baird talked.
She talked mostly about Cassandra Cillian, the redhead who'd come to fetch him in Marseille, Flynn Carsen, who turned out to be the guy with the sword and the ridiculous headband, and someone named Ezekiel Jones. Quinn hadn't met Jones, but the name sounded familiar, and he made a mental note to check it out later.
She talked about magic and monsters, spells and artifacts, just like they were any other combat stories shared between two veterans - and maybe, for her, they were. For him, though, they were glimpses into a whole other world that he hadn't known existed until a few weeks ago, and Quinn found himself paying more attention than he would've expected, committing details to memory.
It wasn't until the third round - the bar so crowded that Quinn could barely hear her over the swirl of conversations around them, and maybe that was the point - that Eve talked about her worries for her team.
She worried that Ezekiel would never really grow into the man, the Librarian he could be - the one she'd glimpsed when an accident involving quantum computing and … something Atlantean? … had thrown the Librarians into a time loop like a video game. She worried that if Ezekiel didn't grow in that direction, that he'd grow instead into some darker version of himself.
She worried that Flynn's reckless nature would get him killed, and there would be nothing she could do to stop it - either because she wasn't there, thanks to having four Librarians to watch over, or because he ignored her strategy and rushed in where angels would hesitate to go.
She worried about Cassandra, who - with a death sentence hanging over her in the form of an inoperable brain tumor - was most at risk of temptation, of going down a dark path in search of a chance at life. Quinn understood Eve's concern. In his work, he'd seen too many others succumb to darkness in service of less comprehensible goals.
Quinn listened, and listened some more, until finally Eve trailed to a stop, staring into her glass and twirling the straw between her fingers.
"What about Stone?" he asked.
Eve looked up at him, her gaze bleary with confusion.
"You didn't mention Stone," Quinn explained. "What do you worry about where he's concerned?"
Eve considered that as gravely as anyone could after three - no, four - rounds of piña coladas made with very strong rum.
Finally, she said, "Mostly that he'll let some misguided, overdeveloped sense of loyalty or duty or responsibility or whatever lead him into following one of the others down a rabbit hole that turns out to be the den of the Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog."
Quinn blinked, impressed in spite of himself. Not many people could get out that sentence intelligibly even when they were sober.
Eve didn't seem to notice his response. "But really, Stone's pretty solid. Especially since he and Dr. Collins got together. Fewer stupid risks."
Quinn nodded, needing to acknowledge what she'd said somehow. Then her expression turned very serious.
"I need to pee."
Eve got to her feet carefully, but still swayed where she stood. Quinn rose, offered her his arm, and escorted her across the bar and down a short hallway to the restrooms.
While he waited for her, he pulled out his phone and opened his contacts. He opened a new message to Jacob Stone and typed quickly.
It's Quinn. You busy?
An answering message dinged almost immediately. You need an out?
Not for me, he typed back. Baird's too drunk to find her way, and I don't know where she came in.
This time, the response came a little more slowly, and Quinn could almost feel the suspicion behind it. Where are you?
Quinn sent the address and got an answering, Be there soon.
He was just putting his phone away when Eve emerged from the restroom. Without a word, he guided her back to the main room.
Of course their table had been taken, but he found - or rather, made - space for them at the bar proper and ordered her a large glass of water while they waited for Stone.
They didn't have to wait long.
"She okay?" Stone asked, then turned to Eve where she slumped against the bar before Quinn could respond. "You okay?"
"'M fine," she answered, her voice soft. "Just relaxing."
"Relaxing?" Stone repeated with a glare at Quinn.
"She needed to talk," Quinn explained. "And drink. So I listened and let her."
"What'd she talk about?"
Quinn gave the other man a thin smile. "Nothing I'll repeat unless she brings it up first."
Stone gave him a startled glance that edged into an understanding, even respectful grin. "Thanks," Stone said. "I'll get her home."
#
Her hangover wasn't that bad, Eve decided. Either imported coconut milk, the water Quinn had insisted she drink, or something in the tea Jenkins gave her seemed to have soothed her symptoms.
Still, she was grateful for a quiet morning after a night she hadn't realized she'd needed so badly - potentially embarrassing stories and all.
When she could stand to look at her phone again, she sent Quinn a simple text: Thanks for listening.
She wasn't surprised when there was no response.
#
The job in Barcelona took longer than Quinn had expected, and it was nearly a week after his evening with Eve Baird before he got back home.
He closed the door to his apartment behind him and went directly to his bedroom where he unpacked the single bag he'd taken with him, sorting his clothes into various piles for laundry - whites, colors - and dry cleaning.
A hot shower and a change into comfortable clothing later, Quinn returned to the kitchen for a beer from the refrigerator he kept stocked. He'd get to the grocery store sometime tomorrow, but for now, a couple of microwave dinners from the freezer would have to do.
While the microwave was running, Quinn opened the beer and drained almost half of it in one long swallow. Then his gaze landed on something white lying just inside his front door, and he strode toward it.
An envelope, he saw, addressed in old-fashioned, rounded cursive.
Probably Mrs. Knauss in 7A, organizing some party or other, he thought as he bent to pick it up.
A chill shivered down his spine when he saw that it was addressed to Jonah Quinn, not the name he'd given when he rented the apartment, the name his neighbors knew him by.
Not Mrs. Knauss, then. But who?
In the return address position was a compass rose in a circle, and beside it, printed in a simple burgundy type, THE METROPOLITAN PUBLIC LIBRARY.
Quinn opened the envelope, withdrew a single sheet of heavy cardstock, blank except for the same logo and a design in the same burgundy color along the edges.
Just as he was about to turn the card over, it began to glow.
"Holy shit," Quinn breathed as the glow resolved into words: You have been selected to interview for a prestigious position with the Metropolitan Public Library.
He was only aware of one Library that might send engraved invitations that appeared in - yes, magical lettering. The question for him now was, would he accept the invitation?
#
"How're you doin', Eve?"
Jacob Stone's question made Eve blink and look up from where she sat at the desk that was nominally Flynn's but that she took over whenever he was away on one of his solo missions. Which was more often than she'd like, but there wasn't much choice when there were four Librarians and only one Guardian.
Then she realized Stone still stood before her, waiting for an answer, and she summoned a smile. "Good, thanks."
"You sure? The last week hasn't been easy on any of us."
Eve had to admit it hadn't. Retrieving Murphy's Lawbook had required the talents of all three junior Librarians and if it hadn't been for her own military training, even that might not have been enough.
But they'd succeeded, though, and Jenkins had secured Murphy's Lawbook deep in the bowels of the Library.
She shook off the momentary reverie to meet Stone's concerned gaze. "I'm fine. Just tired."
"Jones and Cassie headed out for pizza," he said. "But you could join me and Maggie if you want. Dinner - she's cooking."
"Like I'd get in the way of that reunion." Eve gave him a pointed glare, and he had the grace to look embarrassed, if only for a moment.
"It'll be fine," Stone said. "Maggie likes you - and, if you don't mind my sayin' it, you look like you could use a break."
"If you don't mind my saying it," Eve shot back, "being alone will be a break."
Stone started, then chuckled. "You win, Eve. But the offer's open if you change your mind."
Then he was gone, and she was alone - or, she amended silently, alone enough. Jenkins was in his lab, presumably, and the Library itself had a kind of sentience, but neither one of them would bother her while she let the events of the week work their way out of her system., and she'd start that process by straightening the desk.
Maybe this time, it'll stay neat, she thought. When Flynn had been the only Librarian, obviously his settings took precedent. But there were four Librarians now, and all of them had to be able to use all of the Library's resources all the time, without rummaging through Flynn's semi-organized chaos to do it.
"So this is what it looks like when it's not covered in fabric."
Eve whirled, her Glock drawn before the speaker registered.
"Quinn."
"Colonel," he countered, standing very still in the doorway that led to the Annex's mundane entrance. "Safe to assume you're not going to shoot me?"
Perversely, Eve held the gun steady another moment, just to see what he'd do … which was stand there, an open, too-innocent expression on his face.
With a sigh, she returned the Glock to the holster at her hip. "You shouldn't be here."
"Actually, yes, I should."
With exaggerated care, Quinn removed an envelope from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and held it out to her.
Eve recognized the envelope immediately. "That -"
"Arrived just after I got back from Barcelona," Quinn finished.
"I don't understand," Eve said. "Why -?"
Quinn smiled briefly. "Think about our last meeting, Colonel. You went on for a couple of hours about how you didn't think you could effectively be Guardian for four Librarians. Somebody in Library administration must agree with you."
God, what she wouldn't give to have a little help at her job - but Quinn? The Library thought Quinn was a suitable Guardian?
Then again, she hadn't thought she was a suitable Guardian when she'd started, and that had worked out fairly well. Still…
"It's about more than keeping their bodies safe," Eve said.
"What more?" Quinn asked.
"Their spirits, their souls, have to be protected, too. Do you believe you can do that, Mr. Quinn?"
The question came from Jenkins, and Eve didn't start, even though she hadn't heard him come into the room. To his credit, Quinn merely turned to him.
"Yes," Quinn said, with a conviction that surprised Eve, given what she knew of his reputation.
"Why?"
"Because I've stood at the intersection of some very dark paths, and never gone more than a step or two down them," Quinn answered. "I know what it's like to be tempted, and to refuse temptation. I'll know if they're tempted, and I'll pull them back, by force if necessary."
"Yes, well," Jenkins said. "With these particular Librarians, that might be very necessary. But, Colonel, as Guardian Commander the decision is yours."
Eve thought she should consider the decision, analyze it like she'd analyze any battle plan, but she realized she felt taller, lighter than she had in a very long time. And more - she was smiling.
"Welcome aboard, Quinn."
