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Let’s Take A Selfie

Fandom: The Librarians

Rating: General/sfw

Relationship: Casekiel

Word Count: 2732

When Ezekiel hears Cassandra say she hasn’t had her picture taken for anything but school photos and her driver’s license, his heart breaks. He may not be able to change her childhood, but he is determined to make her future much more picture filled.

Starts post “And the Image of an Image” and goes to post “And the Eternal Question.”

Also posted to my Ao3.

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“You know I think I’ve only had my picture taken like…fourteen times...um, yearbooks, driver’s license, mathete honors society...”

The whole mission was weird, considering they were against someone Ezekiel thought was just a fictional character until Jenkins said otherwise. He hated seeing Cassandra be the bearer of Dorian’s actions especially, but something else stuck with him after they got back to the Annex.

It was one thing having your face everywhere thanks to traffic cams and such, but to know that Cassandra didn’t really have pictures outside of school pulled at his heartstrings. He himself wasn’t camera shy at all, considering he was Ezekiel Jones, professor of awesome, and that required photographic evidence (see ollie impossible off the Great Sphinx of Giza).

What hurt worse was that he knew her parents didn’t do anything family like, no pictures of two year old Cassandra with icing all over her face and hands, no picture of five year old Cassandra ready to tackle kindergarten, no vacation photos on the beach or at a theme park, no Christmas home movies full of tearing open gifts and excited shrieking. All the things he had in his head as an ideal childhood, or at least a normal one, and she hadn’t had any (though now he thought of it, probably none of them had that, maybe Flynn or Eve did, but he didn’t really know much about their families). Why he wanted to make Cassandra feel better, he didn’t know, but he was determined to change that number for her as much as he could.

The next mission they went out on, Ezekiel surveyed their surroundings for an ideal selfie. Fortunately for him, they ended up in Milan, specifically right in front of Duomo di Milano. Stone was busy lecturing/nerding out to a flock of elderly tourists, Ezekiel was straining not to pickpocket any of them, Eve was watching the whole ordeal all like a mom who just took her kids to a busy playground, and Cassandra was taking in the massive cathedral in awe. When he looked over at her, he saw his chance.

“Hey Cassandra, let’s take a selfie,” he said casually, sliding up next to her with his back to the cathedral, camera app already open.

She looked over at him, mildly confused. “What?”

“Selfie. Turn around so I can take it,” he instructed. She still seemed confused about the whole thing, but obliged him with a smile in the picture.

“What was that for?” she asked after he lowered his arm.

“I like to document where I go. It’s been awhile since I’ve been here,” he answered, hoping she didn’t press any further.

Fortunately Eve decided to round them up. “Alright guys, we need to actually get in the cathedral, not stand outside.”

He didn’t get to take any more pictures with her until after they finished the mission. Turns out catacombs are not the most ideal photography spots, especially when you’re running through them. Dust and cobweb covered, they had just pulled themselves up through a hidden tunnel that happened to empty right in the middle of the cathedral. Eve and Stone had occupied the priests and security that came running at them, leaving Ezekiel to see Cassandra perfectly framed by a sunbeam coming through a window. He didn’t consider himself one of those “aesthetic photographers,” but the scene had him reaching for his phone before he could think about it. He hurriedly took out his phone and snapped a couple shots just before she shook her head and went about dislodging the cobwebs that had been glowing in the light like a halo.

For those few seconds, Ezekiel could only describe her as angelic, a title mostly unrelated to his thought of Eve as a guardian angel, considering that was a very different theme altogether (much less soft and glowy and much more deadly).

Five minutes and a call to Jenkins later, they were back in the Annex, alive and mostly well save for Stone who just had to slip on some bones and slam into the wall, who was doing his best to not put pressure on his left leg.

Apparently while he was being all heroic, he didn’t take any pictures (not that DARPA was very photogenic anyway), but he got plenty on their next excursion to the Nicaraguan rain forest. Cassandra had invested in cute but practical hiking attire, almost but not quite matching Eve’s outfit.

Stone caught him taking a picture of her inspecting some symbols carved into a huge stone (he was hoping to get some “hard at work” shots). Ezekiel panicked, stumbling backwards on a root. He felt his face heat up when Stone arched an eyebrow, glanced at Cassandra still busy with the carvings, then looked back at him, this time raising both eyebrows in a suggestive manner. He was about to somehow communicate that he wasn’t taking pictures of her because he liked her (because he definitely wasn’t doing it for that...right?), but Cassandra called for Stone’s analysis, thereby ending the conversation.

By now he had a fair few pictures, and an idea of how he wanted to give them to her. He upgraded his phone, this time for the best camera on the market, so he could make it the best he could while still being discreet (a thousand dollar dslr camera isn’t exactly discreet).

Apparently secret agent Ezekiel Jones had a load of pictures, not only with Cassandra, but with Professor Stone and Sheriff Baird as well. The whole thing revolving around Sicily left the memories super fuzzy, but regardless the evidence of their friendship was on his phone. They were all...happy...not that they weren’t happy as Librarians, but this was different. No looming threat of the apocalypse, no bad childhoods, no life-threatening tumors. For a while, part of him wish they hadn’t left, but something told him that Cassandra wouldn’t want that, wouldn’t want them to fail to stop Prospero, wouldn’t want to live an illusion, no matter how real it seemed.

Dealing with Prospero, though, didn’t really provide any photo opportunities (though he found himself wondering if he could convince Cassandra to do a photo shoot in the garden somehow). By the time Eve and Flynn returned to the present, Eve had them right back to work. It wasn’t long before the clippings book flapped its pages and off they went after yet another artifact.

Even well into the mess with Apep, Ezekiel had managed to collect some two hundred photos of Cassandra either by herself or with others (both aware and not aware of the pictures being taken). For awhile, Ezekiel was set on continuing to add to that amount and eventually assemble them all into a scrapbook once they sorted Apep. He planned on giving it to her as a birthday present or for Christmas, depending on when that happened, but seeing Cassandra in the hospital bed, alive but shaken, through that idea out the window.

As soon as he stepped foot through the backdoor, he was off to the nearest drugstore with a photo printing service, and then off to the nearest craft store. It took him awhile to find what he was wanting: a scrapbook big enough to be fairly full but still have a lot of pages left. A blessing in the form of one of the store’s employees showed him a scrapbook built sort of like a binder but much nicer looking, complete with the ability to add as many pages as he wanted by snapping open the rings. After hastily grabbing some decorations (mainly fun 3D stickers, glitter pens, colorful accent paper, and a pack of glue sticks), Ezekiel picked up all 224 pictures and returned to the Annex as quickly as he could.

It was late, well past the time any of the Librarians stuck around to do their own work/interests, so he cleared the main table and unloaded his wares to get to work. He didn’t even think about Jenkins still being there until he was on to the sixth page.

“Mr. Jones?” Jenkins said, clearing his throat. Ezekiel jumped a bit on the stool he had pulled over.

“Yo Jenkins...what’s up?” Ezekiel replied, not sure why he was all the sudden feeling embarrassed.

“You do realize it’s almost one in the morning,” Jenkins insinuated as he walked over to see what Ezekiel was doing.

“Oh. I can go, if you want-” Ezekiel started, but Jenkins cut him off once he got a good look at the scrapbook.

“No, it’s alright, I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the hour,” Jenkins said. “This is…” Now Ezekiel took his turn to cut Jenkins off.

“Kind of creepy, I know, but-” Ezekiel didn’t get to dig himself into that hole. Jenkins put hand on his shoulder, getting Ezekiel to look up at him.

“No, it’s very thoughtful of you to make this for her,” Jenkins finished, looking at Ezekiel almost like a proud parent. “She is going to love it, I can guarantee it.”

Ezekiel looked away towards the backdoor, contemplating his question, but decided on going for it. “Would you like to help me make this? I want to get it to her tomorrow...well today, but I’ve got a load of pictures to go through.”

“I would be honored,” Jenkins answered, complete with a slight bow. “I’ll go make us some tea.”

“Thanks, Jenkins,” Ezekiel said as the immortal knight strode off to the kitchen.

Five hours and several cups of tea later, Jenkins and Ezekiel put the finishing touches on the last page with pictures. He felt a little bad for not having many pictures of Jenkins in there, but at least he had a few. Plus, he knew that telling her Jenkins helped him make the scrapbook would make her day even more.

Somehow Jenkins didn’t look tired at all. Ezekiel, on the other hand, looked pretty bleary eyed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep before you go?” Jenkins asked him.

“It’s already past eight over there, she should be up, right?” Ezekiel said, testing the glued bits on the last page to make sure they were dry.

“You could call the hospital before you leave, just to make sure,” Jenkins suggested, purposely ignoring the smeared glittery purple ink on the side of Ezekiel’s face, and the sticker stuck to the sleeve of his shirt.

“Eh, I don’t mind waiting if she’s not, I’ll just go now,” Ezekiel decided, striding towards the backdoor.

“As you wish,” Jenkins said, dialing up the hospital. Within a few seconds the familiar glow of magic seeped around the door’s edges. “Call when you’re ready to come back.”

“Will do,” Ezekiel said, then strode through the portal, scrapbook in hand.

The backdoor opened in the same place as yesterday, just next to the reception desk. He thought about sneaking into her room, but he didn’t want to risk disturbing her or having to deal with nurses and doctors doing tests, so he walked up to the nurse at the reception desk.

“Excuse me, is Cassandra awake?” Ezekiel asked.

The man looked up from his computer screen. “Cassandra….”

“Cassandra Cillian,” Ezekiel added.

The nurse typed a bit. “She should be, the nurse just checked on her ten minutes ago. Do you want me to tell her you’re here?” he asked.

“No, uh, it’s a surprise,” Ezekiel stammered, motioning with the scrapbook in his hands.

The nurse gave him a knowing look. “Oh, okay. She’s in 623, down the hall right behind you,” he said.

“Thanks.” Ezekiel tried to walk casually, not wanting to give in to his urge to sprint down the hall.

Sure enough Cassandra was awake, watching something on the tv mounted on the wall across from her bed. He knocked on the door, carefully keeping the book behind his back. She waved him in as enthusiastically as she could post-surgery.

“Ezekiel! What are you doing here? And why do you have sparkles on your face?” Cassandra asked, sitting up a little in her bed.

“I have something for you, to keep you company while you’re here,” he started, pulling the scrapbook out from behind himself. “When we were in Club Effigy, you said you had barely had your picture taken, especially for anything involving good memories, so I...I wanted to change that.” He handed her the book, internally kicking himself for feeling nervous about her not liking it.

She started flipping through the pages, trying to both smile and open her mouth in surprise at the same time. “Oh my god, Ezekiel, this is...you made this for me?” she said, beaming like she was the sun.

“Heh, yeah, and Jenkins helped me put it together too,” Ezekiel added. Now he noticed the tears slowly falling down her face.

“I’ve...never had this, anything like this, ever. I wanted it so bad when I was a kid, but we never went on vacations or anything, so no pictures. This, it means so much to me Ezekiel,” she said, trying to keep her voice level.

He blamed it on being tired, but suddenly his vision got blurry in the way tears do. “I’m,” he paused, clearing his throat when he felt the sudden lump in it, “I’m glad you like it.”

“Are you, crying?” she said with a sniff.

“What? No,” he swiped at his eyes futility, “Ezekiel Jones doesn’t cry.” It would’ve been mildly convincing if his voice hadn’t cracked when he said “cry.”

“Oh, give up the tough guy act and come here,” Cassandra demanded, holding her arms out. Ezekiel did as she asked (only because she asked...sure), sitting on the edge of the bed so he could do most of the leaning into the hug and she could relax. They stayed like that for awhile.

“I...I thought we were going to lose you,” he whispered like he still couldn’t believe he thought that.

She hugged him back tighter. “Well I didn’t want to leave you guys either, and look what that determination did,” she chuckled softly, releasing her grip on him. He sat back up, not bothering to hide as he wiped off his face. She shuffled over in her bed, giving him more room. “Can I get a director’s commentary as I look through the book?”

Ezekiel smiled at her. “Ezekiel Jones, master photographer, at your service,” he said. He eyed the spot she made for him warily, but she patted it again to make her point, so he obliged, squishing in next to her as gently as he could. She opened it to the first page, featuring his still-favorite picture from the cathedral. “So for this first one, I was going for that fun, youthful vibe with the selfie. And for this one, once we got out of the catacombs God himself blessed me with perfect lighting and angle…”

He went on like that for awhile until Cassandra noticed his words slurring a bit. Of course she noticed the glitter on his face, the sticker on his arm, the dark circles under his eyes, which made the scrapbook even more special to her, but she knew they all had been up while she was in surgery, and he hadn’t slept since, she guessed. Just when she decided to tell him to go home and sleep, he stopped mumbling through his process, and his head lolled onto the pillow and her shoulder. She felt herself getting tired as well and decided they could have a little nap at least.

That nap went on for about an hour or so, until Flynn and Eve came to visit.

“Jones?” Eve’s voice startled him awake.

“Woah, did you make this?” Flynn was on Cassandra’s side, looking at the scrapbook still open on their laps. Cassandra was waking up now, smiling at Eve and Flynn.

“I...uh, yeah, and Jenkins helped,” Ezekiel mumbled around a yawn. For some reason he didn’t feel that embarrassed that he’d fallen asleep. He felt a hand on his shoulder. Eve looked at him like Jenkins had, except a lot less restrained.

He stayed for a while longer, going through the rest of the book with everyone, before Eve practically commanded him to go home and sleep, which he obeyed with a smile on his face and and a content heart.

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Post Notes: Apparently I like to write Ezekiel really soft in my fics, full of emotions and much better at getting them out than he does in the show, though I’m not sure what emotions exactly I’m making him feel. I wasn’t really going for full on romantic relationship as Castrella still exists in my head for this fic’s universe, but he sure does care for her immensely and wants to make her happy.

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