Cassandra stood in the doorway of her favorite reading room. The clippings book had been silent for weeks now since Charlene's sacrifice. There wasn't much to do other than experiments and study. So studying, Cassandra intended to do.

There on the comfortable sofa near the fireplace was Stone so engrossed in what he was reading that he hadn't noticed her. She smiled softly, it was just like old times, before the Frost Giants before she'd realized that he saw her as more than a best friend. Before she'd panicked and put a wall between them. Before her surgery. Before Estrella and Jenkins. Before he'd left.

She sighed softly but that didn't disturb him. She wondered what he was reading that made him completely fall into it. She'd missed seeing him so caught up in a painting or a book that she'd have to bring him snacks or coffee, remind him to go home and rest. She missed when she'd get so caught up in an experiment or an equation that he would come to her with a sandwich and a cup of tea or gently tell her to go home and rest. She missed her best friend.

Had they lost that when he'd accidentally declared his love? She didn't think he even now realized he had, but she knew she had not misinterpreted it. She knew him very well. She panicked because of something no one else knew and ran from him. Ran to other people.

She did love Jenkins, she still did, always would. But in her panic and desperation, knowing her days were very limited, she'd sought out comfort in the familiar love. She realized now that she could handle his love because it was safe, it was family love, like a comforting blanket. He'd wrapped her in his love during her recovery, kissed her forehead and reminded her so much of her late beloved grandfather, the one relative who'd always seen her as a child, not a brain. They'd talked it out and he'd been gentle and sweet and they'd found something wonderful in the end.

She hadn't know Estrella long enough to love her. Maybe in different circumstances . . .maybe if Estrella was mortal . . .just maybe. But what they'd had was pure and wonderful, a beautiful memory. She'd once read in a book that everyone needs a beautiful memory to keep their soul warm at night. Estrella was Cassandra's beautiful memory. Maybe they would meet again, maybe they wouldn't. But they would always have that one perfect moment.

She and Jacob Stone had hit reset on their relationship so many times. And it always lead to a sofa in a reading room and a comfortable silence. Best friends, always.

But this time he'd gone away. He'd given her a look as they parted, a look that clearly said, say the word and I will stay. But she couldn't let him miss the opportunity. And at the time, she thought it would be a good way for them to get back to being best friends.

She'd thought he'd gotten over her. Outward appearances said that was the case. She'd smiled at him after Charlene praised them and his smile back was shy.

That's what she'd wanted, wasn't it? She wanted a best friend. For some reason she seemed to feel like her love life needed to be separate. But in his absence, she'd begun to feel differently about it all.

Couldn't a best friend also be a lover? No one knew her as well as Jacob did. No one knew him as well as she did him. She'd told herself that like Jenkins, she did love Stone but as a friend, a brother.

But she was lying to herself. She loved Ezekiel that way. Absolutely no question about that, he was her little brother. She loved Jenkins like a father. But Jacob Stone?

One night, nearly two months into his absence, she'd woken up from a wonderful dream about the two of them, the words "I love you too, Jacob," on her lips. She'd known then.

But how to tell him? And if he'd gotten over her, like all signs seemed to point? How was she going to deal with it?

She'd been so blunt when she was dying, knowing she had no time left to make any move. But she wasn't anymore. She didn't know what to do and she wasn't sure where to turn for advice. Eve was her usual go to, but things had been very odd with her as of late. But then again, Flynn really needed her as a girlfriend right now.

So Eve was out. Ezekiel could sometimes give pretty good advice but this situation was a bit too awkward for her to go to him. That left Jenkins and she just wasn't quite sure if that was appropriate. She might have to muddle through this herself.

Cassandra took a deep breath, clutched her book and walked into the room, settling herself on her usual side of the sofa.

"Hey, Jacob," she said softly, not wanting to startle him.

"Hey," he grinned at her briefly over the edge of the book, but went back to it.

Cassandra opened her book but she didn't see anything on the pages. She was too busy giving herself a mental pep talk. She could do this. She had no problems speaking her mind, least of all with Jacob Stone. Then why was this so hard?

Something out of the corner of her eye stopped her train of thought and she shifted her head a little to look over at Stone without being too obvious about it. He'd set the book down and she'd caught him staring at her. Now he was staring at his sleeve rather intently. Not his lap or the floor which was an usual response. No, it was his sleeve. The fingers on the other hand now were playing with the fabric of the sleeve and he fidgeted.

She turned fully to study him. His head was tilted toward his sleeve but his mouth opened and closed again as if he wanted to say something. His fingers played with the cuff on his shirt. That was something new as well. Stone usually rolled his sleeves up. Now they were as far down as they could go.

"Jacob?" she asked just about the time that she heard him mutter, "the hell with this."

She went to ask him what he was talking about when he rolled his sleeve up and held his arm out to her. She gasped as each inch revealed an intricate tattoo. He'd tutored her in Mandarin recently but she couldn't really make out what the letters meant.

"When did you get a tattoo?" she found herself asking and the question seemed lame, especially with the panic on his face.

"In Shangri-La," he said, his voice tense.

"Well, it's interesting," her fingers reached out, almost of their own accord and started to trace the pattern.

"Cassie . . ." her fingers stilled but he kept talking. "I didn't exactly request this tattoo."

Her head snapped up from where she'd been studying the design. "What? They forced you to get a tattoo? That's awful!"

He shook his head. "It wasn't quite like that. It was . . . the Monkey King said it was the will of the staff, a gift. It's magical."

"Oh," Cassandra winced, her fingers back to tracing the patterns. "And you don't want to use magic."

Jacob shook his head. "I asked him to take it off, but he said he couldn't. But I can't, I can't have this! I didn't ask for it."

"What does it do?" she asked, noticing that despite Jacob's agitation, the muscles on his arm seemed to relax under her touch, so she kept doing it.

"He said it was the gift of the inner soul. That it would be bring light to the darkness. When I asked him what that meant, he only told me that I would know when it was time."

Cassandra nodded, continuing to trace. After a few moments she said softly, "I didn't ask for my gift either, Jacob."

"No, but you like magic."

"I might like magic but," she took a breath. "You were right. I don't know how to use it. I could only somewhat control my old gift. This new and improved version? It's terrifying. At least I don't have seizures any more, but it was only this week that I was able to keep from getting sick to my stomach."

"Well, we helped you control your old gift," he said softly. "Maybe we can work on controlling this new one."

"That was largely you, you know?" Cassandra looked up at him and smiled gently. "And if I would like to help you with this."

"I want it to go away."

"Then we'll find a way."

He nodded and put his hand on top of the hand she'd had been touching his tattoo with, she froze, but then he moved so that their fingers were entwined. "We'll find a way to get your gift under control. Neither of us asked for this, but we can make sure we do no harm with it. Okay?"

She grinned, "together."

"Always, Cassie," and her heart leaped at something she saw in his eyes. That more than friendship something that she'd purposely ignored for so long but now longed for.

She was about to say something more, when Jenkins popped his head in the room. Their hands dropped and Jacob moved his arm so it wasn't visible.

"Ah, Ms. Cillian, you wanted me to let you know when your experiment was finished."

"Right, thanks Mr. Jenkins," she beamed at him and the old man went back down the hall.

"Cass?" Jacob was rolling his sleeve back down. "Could you keep this between us for now?"

"Jacob . . . ."

"I know, I know. But Flynn and Baird are so distracted, so is Jenkins. This is my problem, I want to solve it on my own. I only told you because . . . ."

"You have faith?" she asked, a small smile on her face.

He smiled back, tenderly. "Yeah, faith in us solving this together."

"We are a well oiled machine," she said, a hint of playfulness back in her voice.

He nodded, "well you gotta go, I reckon."

"Yeah, I do. Volatile chemicals and all, don't want to blow the Library up."

"Yeah," he chuckled picking his book back up. She noticed it was on the legends and lore of tattoos.

She got to the door and stopped and turned around. "Hey, Jacob?"

"Yeah?"

"If the clippings book doesn't go off, would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight? Maybe a movie?"

The last time she'd asked that question, the response hadn't been what she'd wanted. She slowly met his eyes and he grinned back, a little shy, but still a grin.

"I'd love that, Cassie."

"Good," and she bounced a little on her way to her lab. Things were looking up again. Maybe her best friend could be her love.

So for the first time in weeks, she hoped that the clippings book remained silent like it had been.

The End