Cassandra carried the small, plain rosewood box into Jenkins's lab and approached the tall, elderly-looking man currently hunched over a microscope. She stood next to him and waited patiently for him to finish his work with whatever weird magical thing it was he was peering at, not wanting to startle him. After a couple of minutes, after making a little satisfied grunting sound over what he saw on the slide, he stood up, rubbing his eyes as he turned to the petite redhead.
"Ah, Cassandra," he greeted her warmly, a bright smile softening the serious expression his face normally wore. "How goes your spring cleaning?"
"Slow!" she sighed. "How on earth do you keep track of so much stuff? Every single space in your suite is crammed full of odds and ends!" She held up the box as if in proof of her complaint.
"But I did find something pretty interesting," she said, her voice taking on a tone of mystery.
"And what would that be, my dear?" he asked, amused by how excited Cassandra could become over the smallest things.
The Librarian opened the box and removed a small, book-like object covered by an ornately-tooled leather cover. Opening the book, she revealed to him a very old daguerreotype depicting a couple in mid-nineteenth century dress holding hands. Cassandra held it out to the Caretaker.
Jenkins looked at the picture. "Oh..." was all he said, quietly, his face blanching as he recognized the people in the picture.
The couple were both depicted in full-length. One was a tall, thin man who looked to be in his early 50's, though his face was still full and boyish-looking, with dark, mischievous eyes. He was immaculately dressed in a dark suit of trousers, waistcoat and a long frock coat, a silk, pinstriped cravat tied snugly around the stiff, high collar of his blindingly-white shirt. He had a thick, unruly shock of black hair, generously shot with gray, and neatly-trimmed long sideburns. It was a picture of a younger Jenkins.
The other figure in the photograph was a shorter, young woman. She wore a dark gown with a large plaid pattern and velvet trimming, with long, form-fitting sleeves and an impossibly narrow waist. Her long, smooth black hair was parted in the middle and pulled into a low bun at the back, with fashionable 'spaniel curls' framing her pale face. She wore a small, frilly lace cap on her head. She had wide, dark eyes that, even in the rather stiff, formal portrait, reflected warmth and liveliness. Jenkins was offering her a gardenia blossom as they held hands. The pair were looking into each other's eyes and smiling gently at each other; they were clearly a couple in love.
"Where did you find this?" Jenkins asked sharply, eyes like blank stones.
"In that giant old bookcase in your sitting room," Cassandra chattered, taking no notice of his reaction. "There's a long braided lock of black hair in the box, too; I'm guessing it's hers? You look very handsome in that picture, by the way. Who is she?"
"It doesn't matter," he said, a warning tone in his voice. He snapped the cover shut over the portrait and tossed it carelessly onto the table. "It's just a useless bit of junk. I'll get rid of it after I finish my work here."
Perplexed, Cassandra reached for the portrait; the Caretaker shot out his hand and seized her wrist. Cassandra cried out in pain and alarm. "Ow! Jenkins! You're hurting me!"
The large man let go of her immediately, a look of contrition flashing across his face. "I'm sorry, Cassandra," he apologized. "I...Please, just leave it, I'll take care of it myself later."
The Librarian rubbed her wrist, her face bewildered and concerned. "Jenkins, what's wrong? You can tell..."
"Let it go, Cassandra!" he snapped, shouting angrily, his face darkening. "Just let it go! Just because you're a Librarian and I allow you to share my bed on occasion, that doesn't give you license to pry into my personal affairs! I'll decide what you need to know and when you need to know it! Despite what you may think, you simply do NOT have to know everything!"
Shocked by his sharp words, Cassandra could only stare at him at first, mouth hanging open. "You ALLOW me to share...?" she whispered in disbelief. "YOU'LL decide...?" Then the clear blue eyes clouded with anger of their own. She reached out and snatched up the portrait before Jenkins could react, and after a final glare, she spun around and left the lab without another word.
"Cassandra!" Jenkins had regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth; everything had come out completely wrong. The portrait had caught him off-guard and badly rattled him. He stripped off his lab coat and hurried after the angry young woman. He caught up with her in the workroom, where Eve Baird and the other Librarians were huddled over a large book. The Caretaker grabbed Cassandra's arm and turned her around to face him.
"Cassandra, please! I'm sorry!"
The furious redhead drew her hand back and slapped him across the face—hard. Jenkins, caught completely by surprise, recoiled at the blow and staggered back a couple of steps, eyes blinking in astonishment as his hand went automatically to his stinging face. Eve and the others gaped in stunned silence at the scene.
"You keep your hands off of me! And don't you EVER speak to me like that again!" she hissed with barely-contained venom, her eyes boring into those of the taller man. "I am NOT your whore! You DON'T decide things for me!"
Jenkins recovered from his shock. "I never said that!" he thundered, his own anger rising again. "I never called you that! And I've never tried to control you!"
"Yes, you did!" she screamed back, her blue eyes blazing. "'I ALLOW you to share my bed'! 'I will decide what you need to know'! Seriously?! Just where the hell do you get off talking to me like that? I thought we were a couple, that we were equals! I thought you loved me! But clearly I just didn't know my proper place around here—which apparently is on my back!"
Jenkins struggled to keep his temper under control. "Cassandra, my dear, please..." he began, his voice tense.
Cassandra had turned to leave the room, but upon hearing his words she whirled around and flew back to the much larger man, getting as close as she could without actually touching him and craning her head up to glare into his face.
"Oh, so NOW I'm 'my dear'?" she spat, giving full vent to her hurt feelings. "I'm not just a nosy Librarian now? Not just some uppity concubine prying into your precious private affairs?"
Jenkins visibly flinched at her words and the anger behind them. He glanced around uncomfortably, realizing now that there were others in the room with them.
"Perhaps we should continue this discussion in private...?" he suggested tightly.
"FUCK YOU!" she shouted. "Don't you dare tell me where and when I can speak! And you still haven't answered my question—Who is this woman?" She waved the portrait so close to his face that Jenkins involuntarily backed away a step.
"Another one of your stupid, never-ending secrets!" she continued to tear into him. "You have more secrets than..." She waved her hands frantically in front of herself, struggling for an appropriate simile. "Than Kellogg's has corn flakes! They're like land mines planted all over this damn Library, and I'm forever tripping over them!"
"I AM allowed a private life, you know!" the Caretaker bellowed back, his patience almost gone. "I didn't mean the other things I said, but I DID mean it when I told you that you do NOT have to know EVERYTHING!"
"OH, yeah, that's right—You NEVER want to talk about them, either, THAT'S what's so damn infuriating! I'm just supposed to live with all of these secrets and ghosts from your past, you expect me to just ignore them and tip-toe around them and keep my mouth shut and not ask about them at all! Really?! I suppose you would just ignore a picture of me with some strange guy if you came across it, huh?"
"No, I wouldn't, Miss Cillian, and do you know why?" sneered Jenkins. "Because I wouldn't be snooping around your room LOOKING for something untoward in the first place! Because I respect YOUR privacy!"
Flynn started to get up; this was getting uglier by the second and he wanted to put a stop to it, but Eve put her hand on his arm, silently warning him to stay put. She was watching the feuding pair carefully.
Cassandra angrily jabbed a finger in the Caretaker's direction, eyes narrowed and her voice low and threatening. "Oh, you SO better NOT be calling me a snoop...!"
"You said it yourself, my dear," Jenkins spat out the endearment as though it was something foul in his mouth. "You're a very nosy Librarian!"
With an almost feral growl coming from the back of her throat, the redhead launched herself at the immortal, drawing her hand back to strike him again. Eve jumped up from her chair and was instantly between the two combatants. She grabbed Cassandra's wrists and tried to draw the woman's focus away from Jenkins. "Cassandra! Stop! That's enough!"
Jake and Ezekiel had quietly slipped from their own chairs and were behind Jenkins, just in case they needed to restrain the older man, but Jenkins simply stood still, hands clenched tightly into huge fists at his sides.
Cassandra wrestled away from Baird's grip and backed away from the Guardian, rubbing her wrists against her sides. Eve positioned herself so that she could see both Cassandra and Jenkins at the same time.
"WHAT is going on here?" she demanded.
The young Librarian tossed her head at the older man. "Ask him," she said acidly. "I don't want to be accused of sticking my nose into any more of his goddamned personal affairs!"
With that, she hurled the portrait across the room, turned on her heel and ran from the workroom without another word. Her steps echoed down the corridor leading the front entry of the Annex, and a few seconds later they all heard the distant slam of the heavy steel door.
The bewildered Guardian turned to the stone-faced Caretaker. "Jenkins?"
But the older man remained silent as he turned away from her and stalked back to his lab, shoulders hunched and head lowered.
##
NB: This is a multi-chapter story; I will update regularly. Thank you for reading.