Guys, gals, and non-binary pals, for all intents and purposes, my first draft is done. Now the long process of edits begins.
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Guys, gals, and non-binary pals, for all intents and purposes, my first draft is done. Now the long process of edits begins.
That’s not a Good Fighting Style
Fandom: The Librarians
Rating: SFW, little language
Relationship: Jazekiel
Word Count: 714
Stone’s been training Ezekiel how to defend himself.
Also posted on my Ao3.
-----
Ezekiel’s back hit the wood-paneled wall with a dull thud, Stone’s hands still twisting up his shirt for grip. Sweat dripped dangerously near his left eye, but he didn’t do anything about it (he knew Stone would slap at his arm if he moved to wipe his face). “You really like this move, don’t you?” Ezekiel smirked, prepping to shift his weight and get out of this predicament. “Bookcases, doors, any solid, vertical surface, you just gotta push me against it, hmm?”
“Well you make it easy. What’re you gonna do ‘bout it,” Stone growled. The hint of arousal in his eyes betrayed the fear-inducing grin, Stone’s look for ‘you better do somethin’ before I do’ face.
The thief tilted his head ever-so-slightly towards Stone, which had the desired effect of getting Stone to lean forward. When the cowboy’s elbows bent to get his face closer, Ezekiel threw his weight to the right, twisting them both. Ezekiel grabbed Stone’s elbows and used the momentum from Stone trying to right himself to pin him where Ezekiel had just been.
“Good,” Stone rumbled, eyes darker than they were just five seconds ago, “but this doesn’t incapacitate me.” He didn’t give any time for Ezekiel to reply, going for a not-so-painful kick towards the groin.
Ezekiel liked playing dumb because Stone always believed it. Stone did this move last week, and taught him how to defend against, so Ezekiel did just what he was taught, but with his own flair. Before Stone’s leg had fully extended, Ezekiel’s feet had already left the floor and were well on their way to the wall on either side of Stone’s shoulders. He kicked off, pulling Stone off the floor with him (and briefly thought about how he should’ve set up a camera for this) before Stone’s back hit the mat below them. Ezekiel let momentum carry him, knees wide so he landed straddling Stone. A half a second later he pinned Stone’s wrists to the mat while the cowboy sucked in the breath that just got knocked out of him.
“Now you are,” Ezekiel said as he let out the breath he’d been holding. “I don’t get into tight places by being stiff as a board. In another life, I’d be in the circus.” He licked his lips without thinking of it, savoring how Stone’s eyes flicked down to his mouth.
Looking up at him, Stone was barely masking his pride, and not masking how turned on he was. “Sure you would, with oversized shoes and a red nose,” Stone chided, but it only had half as much bite as it normally would have, which meant Ezekiel was winning.
Then a twinkle in Stone’s eye made him second guess his standing in this sparring match. “But you’d be a fool to think I’m done if I’m on the ground.”
Stone trapped Ezekiel’s left leg while he pulled Ezekiel’s left arm over toward his left. He thrusted his hips at an angle, purposely connecting with the thief’s groin as he twisted his torso to throw Ezekiel off him. Ezekiel’s side hit the mat and then he was pinned within two seconds. “Shit,” Ezekiel huffed, a little annoyed Stone got him.
“You really thought ya had me?” Stone asked with a laugh.
“No, it was more that you were supposed to be so distracted by me dominating you, that you quit fighting,” Ezekiel purred.
“That’s not a good fighting style,” Stone started, lowering his face excruciatingly slowly towards Ezekiel’s, “but you were only a move off.”
“Well, I’m not the math genius ‘round here,” Ezekiel replied, purposely throwing in a bit of a southern drawl (he found out recently Stone really liked that). “But I do have an eye for precious stones.” He threw in a genuine smile to really nail the complement home.
“Heh, well I’ve got an eye for priceless works of art,” Stone said, giving Ezekiel a moment to process before kissing Ezekiel like he was handling the real Mona Lisa (Ezekiel knew just how gentle that was since he saw Stone helping Jenkins rearrange things back when the Library was glitching out). And then Stone started kissing Ezekiel like he still wanted to fight.
They left the training room sweaty, but it certainly wasn’t all from sparring practice.
-----
Post Notes: I was going to have relaxing evening reading before going to bed, but then my brain was like "ooh think about Stone and Ezekiel fighting...and getting turned on by it" so then this happened. Ended up being a good study in writing movement too.
Nose kiss for Cade and Sera
These two...sometimes they give me something meaningful to their characters...and sometimes they give me goofy scenes like this.
"What are you doing?" Cade looked down at Sera desperately trying to stand on her toes and pull him down at the same time. "Come down here, please." She pulled again on his tunic, balancing precariously. "Very well," he leaned down toward her. Once he closed the foot difference in height, she placed a kiss softly on his nose. "Why do you have to be so tall?" Sera asked petulantly. He laughed as he picked her up and spun in a slow circle. "Why do you have to be so short?" he asked before smothering her response with a needy kiss against her lips.
Eyelid kiss for Cade and Sera
The ship lurched again the waves battering the sides. Even deep within the ship, Sera could hear the wind howling through the rigging. The storm couldn't last forever, could it? She paced across the small room she and Cade were sharing. One, two, three, turn. She counted as she stepped. One, two, three, turn. She tried syncing her breaths with her steps but they kept coming too fast. He would be back any second. She just had to hold on until then. It wasn't helping. Flopping back on the small bed they had been sharing for the past week, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of the ring on her finger. She slowly spun the simple band around, counting down from 100. She could feel her breaths slowing. The feeling of being trapped eased. Her heart stopped thundering in her ears. Feather-light kisses against her eyelids brought her back to the present. So focused on calming herself, Sera had missed the sound of Cade coming back in the room. A smile spread across her face. Those muscles had more use in the last few months than they had in years. "Are you ok, my lovely wife?" Cade asked his voice filled with concern. This was not the first time she'd had an attack while he was gone. But was the first time he'd come back to find her not carving her dagger into something or her thumb being bloodied from the picking. Sitting up, she sighed, her heart speeding up for a much different reason. "Yes, I am, husband." She laughed softly, still getting used to that word. She pulled him closer, angling his head so that she could lightly kiss his eyelids.
Trust Only the Solid Rock
Fandom: The Librarians
Rating: General/SFW
Relationship: Flynnstone
Word Count: 7155
After watching The Librarian: Quest for the Spear on New Year’s Day, I had an idea: what if Flynn’s first Guardian was Jacob Stone instead of Nicole Noone. So this is what I came up with, how things would’ve been different, and the same.
Also posted on my Ao3.
-----
“And remember, trust only the solid rock,” Judson said. Flynn stuttered in confusion but Judson disappeared off the screen without clarifying his cryptic message.
At that moment, a rather gruff looking man entered the cabin, chatting with the pilot like they were old buddies. “Let Harrison know I said hi, alright?” the man said, clapping the pilot on the shoulder as he grinned at him. The pilot nodded, smiling as well, and then headed off to the cockpit.
The man, who Flynn thought belonged somewhere in Texas, based on the blue and orange plaid western shirt and well worn jeans, continued down the aisle, stopping right at Flynn’s row. “Aw, was hopin’ for the aisle seat, little more room ya know?” The man’s southern drawl confirmed Flynn’s southern United States theory.
It was at this moment Flynn noticed how the blue on the cowboy’s shirt was the precise shade that matched his eyes. Flynn cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, sure,” Flynn stammered, hastily moving himself and the book in his lap to the window seat. He forgot he had the tray of the window seat out, so his side slammed uncomfortably into it. It took ten obnoxious seconds for Flynn to finally get himself into the window seat. He expected the man to be annoyed with him, and it’d be a lie if Flynn said he wasn’t a little scared of the muscles underneath that shirt, but the man didn’t seem mad at all, in fact, he looked somewhat amused.
They both settled in to their seats as the flight attendant did the standard air safety spiel. It wasn’t until they had taken off that the cowboy gave in to his clear curiosity about the old book on Flynn’s lap. “What’s that there? Looks ancient.”
“That would be because it is,” Flynn replied. He knew he shouldn’t discuss the book with a stranger, but he had such bad impulse control when it came to anything he knew something about. “Written in the language of the birds, in fact, which no one can read. Well, not yet anyway.”
The man glanced down at the book, then back to Flynn. “And you’re gonna translate it on an airplane?”
“I have roughly seven hours to do so, so yes, I’ll be translating it on this plane. And I would like to get to work as soon as possible,” Flynn snapped.
The man just shook his head at him. “Sure you don’t want help on that?”
“No!” Flynn lowered his voice when other passengers looked at them. “No, I can do it, trust me.”
Now the man looked annoyed. “Fine, then.” He then faced forward, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Flynn thought the man fell asleep, and would hopefully stay asleep the full flight, but an hour in, he opened his eyes and tried to sneak a glance at the text.
“Do you mind?” Flynn growled, shifting closer to the bulkhead.
“Am I not allowed to be curious?” the man growled back.
“It’s not like you could help anyway, Cowboy,” Flynn retorted, and then flinched when the man tensed. He’s not going to punch me on a plane...right?
The man closed his eyes for a moment, took a breath, then looked down at the text for a moment. “To best protect the staff of old from the hand of evil, split twice and scattered abroad-”
Flynn jerked the book away from the man. “How did you...who are you?”
The man smiled smugly. “The name’s Stone, Jacob Stone. And you’re Flynn Carsen, current Librarian I assume.”
How did know my name? How doe he know the language? “Trust only the solid rock,” Flynn muttered, eyes narrowed at Jacob. Then Flynn sucked in a breath and grabbed his arm excitedly. “You’re the rock, the one Judson was talking about.”
Jacob let out a huff of air at the mention of Judson. “That’s how he briefed you on me? Classic Judson.”
“You didn’t answer my question. How do you know the language of the birds?” Flynn asked, releasing his arm and settling back into his chair.
“I know a whole lot. Enough I could’ve been in that seat right now,” Jacob said, nodding at Flynn.
“Then how come you aren’t? Surely if you know this,” Flynn shook the book gently, “then you’d be more than qualified to be the Librarian.”
“That’s what I thought a few years ago, but when I met Charlene, she congratulated me on becoming the new Guardian for Wilde,” Stone said, folding his arms across his chest like he was still annoyed at the decision. “Apparently my brawn was more important than my brains.”
“What’s a Guardian?”
Jacob looked at Flynn with pity. “They really didn’t tell you anything, huh?”
Flynn shook his head a bit too forcefully. “They don’t tell me anything, and when they do, it’s cryptic, or not useful things like ‘save my receipts.’”
“I’d get used to that, if you wanna keep the job,” Jacob said, smiling at him. “A Guardian protects the Librarian. It’s a dangerous job in a lot of ways, and it’s my job to try to keep you alive to keep on doin’ it.”
Flynn nodded, then tilted his head like a dog. “What happened to the last Librarian?”
Jacob’s mood darkened. “He died, because I didn’t do my job good enough. And I’m not gonna let that happen again.”
Flynn was not sure how to respond to that information. “That’s...good to know.” He cleared his throat, not a fan of having Jacob brooding next to him. “So this book, you can translate it?”
“Sure, but so far I have no clue what it’s talkin’ about,” Jacob said, looking down at the book. “I’m better with art and literature and languages."
“Well, I can handle that,” Flynn said, savoring the fact that he still seemed to be the Librarian for a reason.
---
They made it through most of the book, then as soon as Jacob got up to go to the lavatory, Flynn was promptly almost kidnapped. Thankfully Jacob heard the commotion and burst out of the lavatory and knocked some goons about, krav maga style Flynn noted. To say Flynn wasn’t impressed by the speed at which Jacob disabled their wannabe captors would be a lie. And then Flynn forgot all about Jacob’s fighting style when the Guardian shoved him out of the plane with no parachute.
For a good ten seconds, Flynn was free falling, screaming all the while. And then an arm grabbed him by the torso, pulling him flush against someone, and then there was a jerk of a parachute unfurling as the other arm of this person secured Flynn.
They were drifting at a much less deadly speed now, but Flynn was still screaming. “Shut it, would you?” Jacob rumbled in his ear, loud against the woosh of the wind around them. Flynn stopped screaming, mainly because within another ten seconds they were tumbling to the rainforest floor.
Once Flynn righted himself, he turned towards Jacob, somehow already standing there like Flynn took five minutes to stand up. “You! Do not shove me out of a plane!” Flynn shouted, poking Jacob harshly in the chest.
Jacob stared him down. “We had no choice. If we stayed, we would’ve been captured.”
“You don’t know that! It looked like you had it handled.”
“Don’t question my judgment,” Jacob snarled, putting some space in between them. “Where are we?”
Flynn thought for a moment, thinking of the flight plan and their trajectory. “I need to get above the canopy to know for sure, but we should be fairly close to the secret Mayan temple.”
“Then get up that tree there,” Jacob said, pointing to a thick tree.
“Sure, I’ll just...climb this tree here,” Flynn said, walking over to the tree. Fueled by Jacob’s unimpressed look, Flynn scaled the tree.
Above the canopy, Flynn got confirmation of their location. Annoyingly, Jacob climbed the tree too, and looked annoyingly less winded than Flynn felt. “I’d say we’re about twenty miles away,” Jacob said, squinting at the temple in the distance.
“Nineteen and a third,” Flynn grumbled under his breath.
Jacob rolled his eyes. “Then we should get going,” he said, then left Flynn sitting at the top of the tree.
---
Trekking in the forest was not a thing Flynn really wanted to do, at least not so unprepared, but Jacob didn’t seemed to mind roughing it. They were sitting around a little campfire, eating roasted squirrels that Jacob had trapped earlier. It was quiet without it actually being quiet; the rainforest had plenty of noises, some Flynn didn’t want to think about, but he and Jacob ate in silence, at least, for a little while.
“So...what did you do before you came to the Library? Professor? Grad school?”
Jacob chuckled, shaking his head. “None of that. I was working on an oil rig when I got the letter, and before that I had a couple year stint at land surveying.”
Flynn blinked. “Oh.” He took a bite of meat to occupy his mouth, but the question came out anyway. “Then how did you...learn?”
“Not everyone has to learn through school, Flynn,” Jacob replied. “There wasn’t anythin’ stoppin’ me from reading books from my town’s library as a kid. And the internet is pretty nifty.”
“But...you’re brilliant. Why oil?”
Jacob kicked a little stone into the fire. “My dad has...had an oil company, one of the biggest local ones in Oklahoma. He expected me to run it, and for awhile I did.” He paused, pulling at meat with his teeth, but he eventually continued when Flynn wouldn’t quit staring at him. “My pa, he wasn’t one for smarts, or for people who had ‘em. He was worse than the kids at school.”
“So you hid it,” Flynn said. He hadn’t meant to be sarcastic or anything, but he was bad with the whole social interaction thing.
“Yeah, I did, and what of it?” Jacob glared at him. “Just because I didn’t study like you doesn’t mean I’m any less smart than you.”
Flynn cleared his throat awkwardly, finishing his roasted squirrel. “You, uh, wouldn’t happen to have toilet paper on you?”
Flynn hated the fact that the fire made Jacob’s eyes very piercing, because they were attempting to murder him with a look. Jacob took a knife from his boot, stabbed a leaf, and offered it to Flynn. “Be my guest.”
“Thanks,” Flynn said, taking the leaf and walking away from Jacob. Conveniently, he walked towards the cliff they’d camped near, and happened to see a group of not nice looking people around their own fire. He near sprinted back to Jacob. “We have friends!” he shout-whispered.
Jacob sprang up and followed Flynn to get a glimpse, and then promptly went and put the fire out. “They won’t scale the cliff ‘till morning.” He then settled down next to the dying embers, apparently ready to sleep for the night.
Without the fire, Flynn was acutely aware of the drop in temperature. “It’s, uh, it’s getting cold without that fire. We may need to do something to keep us warm.”
“Are you askin’ to cuddle?” Jacob looked at him with an eyebrow raised.
“No! Uh, I just, was making an observation,” Flynn stammered, pacing around the dead fire.
“Get over here,” Jacob commanded, and it was a voice Flynn was not going to disobey. He sat down next to Jacob, leaving space in between them. Jacob eyed the gap. “That’s not gonna keep us warm.”
Flynn tried to restrain himself, but still probably got right up against Jacob a bit too quickly. The cowboy-fighter didn’t seem to notice. Despite the exhaustion, Flynn’s limbs were buzzing with energy. What am I, a teenager? Jacob made it worse when he wrapped an arm around Flynn’s waist and said into his ear, “try to get some sleep, you’ll need it.”
---
They were up and moving as soon as it got bright enough to make out general shapes of plants, hopefully leaving the people down below none the wiser. They continued hiking through the rainforest...happened on some locals, where of course Jacob spoke their dialect of Portuguese perfectly (and it sounded stupidly good coming out of his mouth, Flynn noted). Jacob even didn’t seem to mind when Flynn geeked out about the mating dance they got to watch that night. In fact, if Flynn wasn’t in such a weird situation, he’d say Jacob was watching him fondly that whole night.
It would’ve been nice to spend more time at the village, but the Serpent Brotherhood showed up the next morning, prompting Flynn and Jacob to flee into the jungle. They ran as fast as the forest floor would let them, and took a plunge over a waterfall to put distance between them and their pursuers. Flynn noted that Jacob’s soaked undershirt (he had his western shirt tied around his waist to dry), clung obscenely to his solid torso and muscular arms.
They got to the temple as the sun neared three in the afternoon. Flynn took over on that one, about got them killed but then saved them, thankfully. When they walked into the treasure room, Jacob kept Flynn from being stupid by dragging him back before he could go mess around with the piece of spear on the pedestal. “Woah there, these things are near always booby trapped. Don’t ever go wanderin’ up to something like that,” Jacob said.
Flynn felt himself flush. “I knew that.”
“Uh huh.” Jacob looked around the room, trying to find a release for whatever trap was inevitably on that pedestal. Flynn wanted to beat Jacob to the punch, so with his quick thinking, he took a rock and threw it at the spear piece, knocking it to the floor.
Jacob spun around to Flynn. “What did you-” A large stone face slamming into the space in front of the pedestal cut him off. Jacob looked at it a bit, then said, “Well, that works.”
They left the temple much quicker than it took them to get in, however the Serpent Brotherhood goons were standing right outside. Considering the odds if they tried to flee, Jacob and Flynn complied, and were dragged harshly through the jungle to a makeshift camp nearby. Someone was in the farthest tent they were facing, based on the rustling Flynn could hear. The person stepped out, and Flynn couldn’t believe his eyes at who was standing in front of him.
Jacob was furious. “Ed...you died...you...how…” It took three men to restrain him.
The apparently-not-deceased, previous Librarian shook his head like Jacob was slow. “What you saw was a special effect. Though your tears were perfect,” Edward said. Jacob bristled, but stayed put as the men restraining him prodded his sides with their guns. Edward looked to Flynn with disgust. “You’re the Librarian?”
Jacob ignored Edward’s jab. “Why?”
Edward swaggered closer to Jacob. “Absolute power, who wouldn’t? Oh, that would be you, the Guardian who hated magic.”
Then three men were not enough to restrain Jacob. He lashed out, grabbing Edward by the throat, before two more men joined the first three to push him back. Flynn noticed the red finger-length marks on Edward’s neck.
Edward coughed a little, grimacing, but then cocked his gun and aimed right at Jacob’s chest. “Goodbye Jacob. It was nice to see you again.”
Before Edward could fire, Flynn leaped in front of Jacob. “You can’t kill him.”
Edward looked at him. “Why not?”
Flynn stood a little straighter, adrenaline substituting for confidence. “Because you need me to find the last piece, and I won’t do it without him.”
Shoving his gun in the back of his pants, Edward closed the five feet between him and Flynn. “I don’t need you. I have this,” he said as took the book out from Flynn’s messenger bag and started flipping through the pages. Edward looked at Flynn in disbelief. “The language of the birds. No one can read this!”
“No one except a real Librarian,” Jacob said from behind Flynn.
Flynn bit back the immediate thought that Jacob technically translated it first. Instead, he started speaking in the language of the birds. “Tu zak su auk chi, coo coo coo coo coo coo coo caksi, kappa pippsi pash. In the language of the birds, that means you’re up a creek, and I’ve got the only paddle.”
Edward slammed the book shut. “Tell me where the third piece is, and I’ll let him live.”
“Don’t tell him,” Jacob said to Flynn.
“It’s in Shangri-La,” Flynn said.
Jacob kicked him in the back of the leg. Flynn winced, but Edward didn’t seem to notice. “Don’t screw with me, that’s a legend.”
“Shangri-La is in Mount Kailesh, in the Himalayas,” Flynn said, then turned his head to look at Jacob. “Excuse me for trying to save your life...again.”
“The spear is more important than my life, Flynn,” Jacob growled, his menacing tone making the mercenaries around them anxious.
“He’s not gonna get anywhere near that spear, unless I interpret the clues in there,” Flynn said, nodding to the book.
---
In captivity, they were shoved through the jungle to an airstrip, onto a plane, under constant watch of at least four men at any time. Both Flynn and Jacob took the break to get rest, and eat what little food they were given. Only when they were scaling mountains in the Himalayas did the security dwindle, though there wasn’t exactly anywhere for them to escape to anyway.
Flynn did not want to visit Shangri-La like this, but Jacob seemed even more distraught about it. “What’s wrong?” he whispered, hoping to not provoke the goons dragging both of them along.
“I...I trained here, to fight, and now I’m here in captivity to take the very thing they’ve sworn to protect,” Jacob replied, looking at the ground the whole time. Flynn noticed the monks were watching the Guardian, giving various looks of concern, disappointment, and pity, but the one in the center had no expression on his face.
“Welcome. It has been long prophesied that you would come today,” the monk in the middle said.
Edward, not one for pleasantries anymore, pushed in between Flynn and Jacob while the rest of the goons aimed their guns at the monks. “Give us the spear piece.”
The monk in the middle sighed, and then let them into the temple. The Serpent Brotherhood mercenaries shoved Flynn and Jacob through the temple to the golden statue in the back of the room.
“It is hidden inside,” the monk told Edward.
“Open it,” Edward demanded.
“We are the meer keepers. We have no idea how to open it,” the monk replied.
Edward shoved Flynn forward. “Fortunately, he does.” Flynn slowly made his way up to the statue, but apparently it wasn't fast enough for Edward. He pulled out his gun and aimed it at Jacob’s head. “Get the spear piece, or I blow his brains out.”
Flynn raised his hands to show he was complying, took out the book, and looked at it for few moments. “Uh...this can’t be right,” Flynn said, flipping through pages.
“What?!” Edward said, shoving Jacob forward so he could see but still keep his leverage on Flynn.
“Well, this says it can only be opened with the name of god.”
“So?”
“So, the name of god is only the biggest secret in the WORLD. Over four thousand years, people have been trying to figure out, you expect me to come up with it in fifteen seconds?” Flynn retorted.
Edward replied by cocking his gun and re-aiming it at Jacob’s occipital bone.
Defeated, Flynn rolled his sleeves up a little and studied the characters on the statue’s stomach. After a few moments, he smiled. “M...E,” he said as he touched two symbols. The symbols glowed, then the whole stomach section glowed around the edges and retreated into the statue with a bright flash, revealing the spear blade. “Me, god is within us all,” Flynn explained.
The monk who had greeted them smiled and nodded at Flynn as Edward released Jacob and made his way up to the blade. Flynn, wanting to pull a fast one on Edward, stood up in resignation. “Go ahead, take it.” He winked to Jacob, who looked about ready to take out all the Serpent Brotherhood around him.
Edward about fell for it, going so far as to reach his hand just across the threshold of the compartment, but then he stood up and looked at Flynn. “No, you take it,” Edward commanded. Flynn, not wanting to show his concern, did so, but his hesitation gave him away. “Problem?”
Flynn shook his head, and proceeded to pull the blade out quickly, with no ill effects. That’s not right. Edward swiped the blade from him as Flynn glanced around the room in confusion.
“Lars, fly up here now, track my signal,” Edward said into a walkie talkie, staring at the blade in his hand like he just had the world handed to him. Just then, the statute started to descend into the floor.
“About time,” Flynn told the statue as a gong sounded, and the temple started shaking.
Things descended into chaos. The monks took advantage of it, targeting the Serpent Brotherhood. Jacob grabbed the blade from Edward after elbowing him in the stomach, then grabbed Flynn’s arm and dragged him through the chaos, though they had to get past enemies first...or rather, Jacob took care of them quickly in a similar yet different style than the monks were using around them.
Seeing their escape, Edward blocked their path. “Give me the spear!”
Jacob took the blade in his hand and chucked it across the room into the chaos.
“Noo! Get the spear!” Edward roared, pushing past them into the room.
Jacob continued leading Flynn out of the collapsing temple, ignoring his “but the blade!” until they were outside.
“Hold on, we have to get the spear piece,” Flynn said as soon as they stopped.
Jacob pulled out the blade in the sheath built into his boot. “If you wanna hide something, you do it in plain sight.”
The monk that had first greeted them ran up to them. “The spear must be protected.”
“Master-” Jacob started, but the man held up a hand to stop his sentence.
“Protect it. You cannot fight a crowd alone, Jacob. We will rebuild. Do your duty.”
Jacob looked like he had more to say, but he just nodded, grabbed Flynn’s wrist, and ran off to the helicopter that had just conveniently landed on the lawn.
---
With their new helicopter, they flew towards the nearest blip of civilization that was big enough to have a hotel, and promptly booked themselves a room. Flynn didn’t blink an eye at sharing a room, but he gawked when the manager informed them there was only one bed.
“It’s not like we didn’t just spend a week in each other’s company. Any bed is better than camping outside again, and I don’t want to let you out of my sight when they’re still lookin’ for us,” Jacob said. He then thanked the manager and took the room key, expecting Flynn to follow him to the elevator, which he did.
The room itself was fine. Flynn claimed the bathroom first, hoping the warm shower and scrubbing off a week’s worth of grime would let him fall asleep quickly. Eventually he forced himself out of the shower so Jacob could use it.
Just as Jacob stepped into the bathroom, the tv turned itself on. Judson was in the screen. “Mr. Carson.”
“Judson! You and everyone at the Library can completely relax. We have the third piece of the spear right,” he paused to dig under the bed to retrieve it, “right here. Completely safe.”
Judson nodded in approval. “Good work. I still can’t believe that Wilde joined the Serpent Brotherhood. He was a fine Librarian. Thank goodness we have a…a better one now.” Flynn wiggled a little where he was sitting on the bed, savoring the praise. “Get some rest, and return to the Library as soon as possible,” Judson said, and then the tv turned off, ending the conversation.
Once Judson’s image fizzled out, Flynn let himself lay down on the bed, the left side when looking at the bed, leaving more than enough room for Jacob to sleep on. His back ached at the soft mattress after several nights of sleeping on the ground, so he shifted around until he was on his side, back facing the edge of the bed. He was exhausted, but of course his brain didn’t want to rest quite yet, so he laid there, staring at the wall, trying to process his past week. He did his best to ignore the steam curling from under the bathroom door, to not think about how he'd rather be back in that shower, listening to that southern voice sing some country song without a door and a shower curtain between them.
And then all thoughts of anything ceased to be at the forefront of his brain when Jacob walked out of the muggy bathroom, only pajama bottoms on, towel draped around his neck. And of course, Flynn's mouth acted of its own accord. “You're not wearing a shirt.”
Jacob looked at him, thought a moment, and then said, in a rather gravelly voice, “No, I'm not. Accidentally left it out here.” He nodded at the shirt still sitting on top of the dresser.
“Hmm, was it truly an accident?” Flynn asked. And then he processed those words and sat up quickly. “I'm sorry, uh, I-”
“Do you want it to be on purpose?” Jacob asked. He kept eye contact with Flynn as he ran the towel through his damp hair slowly. “‘Cuz it could've been.”
“Uh, well, um,” said Flynn eloquently.
Jacob chuckled. “You sure have a way with words, Flynn.”
“Well, you make it hard to think,” Flynn retorted. He meant it to be a jab, but it just came out as a compliment.
“Do I now?” Jacob said with a smirk. He slowly walked over to the side of the bed Flynn was sitting. “Tell me, Flynn, what would you like to do right now?”
With Jacob’s solid body right in front of him, and the way he was practically purring Flynn’s name, it took a couple tries for Flynn to get words to work. “Right now? I, uh, I…”
“Would you rather show me?” Jacob asked, leaning down at the hips so his face was level with Flynn’s. Flynn nodded, and didn’t stop nodding until his face pressed against Jacob’s. Jacob kissed him for a moment, then pulled away, smiling at the way Flynn tried to follow him. “Hold on, now. Why don’t we get into a more comfortable position, hmm?” Flynn nodded yet again, but Jacob got him to stop by gently holding his jaw with one hand, the other stabilizing himself as he straddled Flynn’s hips. “There, now how ‘bout you go on and lay down,” he instructed, giving Flynn little kisses all the way down.
Flynn couldn’t restrain himself now that Jacob was above him; his hand went for Jacob’s torso, feeling the lines of muscle there. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the waterfall,” Flynn admitted.
“Have you, now? Well, don’t be shy,” Jacob muttered, leaning down to let his mouth explore Flynn more.
---
While they could’ve been more well-rested, they woke up the next morning to sun seeping through the curtains, a little stiff in places that hadn’t been sore the night before. Jacob was lazily carding his fingers through Flynn’s hair, where his head still laid on the Guardian’s chest. Once Flynn had savored the memories of the night before, his mind was on to more questions about the Guardian’s past. “How long did you train at Shangri-La?”
Jacob’s hand hesitated a moment before it resumed its path through Flynn’s bedhead. “A couple months, near soon as the Library hired me.”
Flynn traced the lines of Jacob’s torso. “Where else did you train? Your form was...unique.”
“There’s a lot to be learned from bar brawls and school yard fights,” Jacob said, hand moving down Flynn’s neck to his shoulders, making the Librarian shivver. “I had more than my fair share of them.”
For awhile they enjoyed each other’s touch in silence, but eventually Flynn’s curiosity returned. “What did Edward mean when he said you hated magic?”
Now Jacob’s hand stopped moving. “I don’t...Edward liked usin’ it, to save the day, he said. I hated that he did that. Magic is...it’s dangerous, and power corrupts. It’s the reason the Library exists, to keep it out of the hands of those who want to wreak havoc.”
Flynn turned his head so he was looking at Jacob, as much as he could anyway. “Was he always...how he is now?”
Jacob looked away in thought. “I never thought so, I mean, sure, he was headstrong, but his heart was in the right place, or ‘least I thought it was.”
“Were you two...close?”
“No, he, well, he didn’t even know about me,” Jacob said. He still wasn’t looking at Flynn.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I think breakfast...or maybe lunch is in order,” Flynn said, sitting up.
Jacob looked back at Flynn, smiling, but he still seemed distant. “Sounds great.”
They got dressed and made their way to a cafe just down the street from the hotel, spear blade safely sheathed in Jacob’s boot. They ate their food and coffee in a politely ravenous manner, earning a couple glances from other patrons.
“Have you published anything?” Flynn asked Jacob out of the blue.
“What?” Jacob said around a mouthful.
“Any papers, books? I know the way you talked about the language of the birds sounded familiar, but I’ve read countless essays and articles and books to pin down the specific ones I’m thinking of that sounded like you. I mean you had to have done it under a pen name-”
Jacob held up his hand to get Flynn to quiet. “I have, under pen names,” Jacob answered, emphasizing the plural.
Flynn did not want to let this go. He racked his mind, temporarily ignoring his food. “Was Dr. Oliver Thompson one of them?”
Jacob huffed, more amused than annoyed. “Yup.” Just as he took another bite, a sizeable dart sunk into his neck.
“Jacob!” Flynn half shouted, shooting up from his chair. Jacob stood up too, albeit slower than Flynn, and he swayed a little on his feet.
Jacob pulled the dart out, looking around, but his head turned too slowly to really cover the area. “Flynn, run,” he slurred, somehow still standing. Flynn instinctively backed up, just in time for some Serpent Brotherhood brutes to descend on Jacob, who then finally passed out.
Flynn was torn; Jacob told him to run, and he wanted to, but he didn’t wanna leave Jacob. He didn’t get much time to think as the men dragged the unconscious Guardian over to a truck, and sped off. It was then that Flynn realized the blade was still in Jacob’s boot, though the mercenaries didn’t seem to know that as they had taken Flynn’s messenger bag too, not that it would do them any good. Freaking out, Flynn ran down the street in the direction the truck had gone, but there was no way he was going to catch them by foot. He stopped to catch his breath conveniently near another tv.
“Flynn, what’s wrong?” Judson asked. He was sitting in a chair, unlike yesterday’s magical video call.
“Jacob, they took him, a tranquilizer dart, they have the spear, the Serpent Brotherhood took him,” Flynn rambled.
“Alright, alright, not all is lost. It took a great power to split the spear, and it’ll take even more to fuse the pieces together again,” Judson said.
“How much?”
“Well, mysticism aside, you’ll need a local electromagnetic field registering over fifteen on the Shoum scale,” Judson explained.
“Okay, good,” Flynn said, nodding and pacing a little. “The only time that kind of energy’s ever been registered was during a peak full moon at the great pyramid, when it had its capstone. The Egyptian government refuses to replace the-” Flynn had an epiphany “-capstone. Next peak full moon is tomorrow night. Call the marines, Judson, I’m coming home.”
---
That night, New York time, Flynn sneaked up to a service entrance of the museum where just a few weeks ago, he had been working with Professor Harris. He tried busting down the door, but only gave himself a bruised shoulder.
“Flynn,” Judson said, startling him, “we can get in through the ventilation system.”
“Where are the marines?” Flynn asked, looking around.
Judson pulled back the collar of his shirt revealing a small tattoo of the eagle, globe and anchor. “Semper fi.”
“You were a marine,” Flynn said, to which Judson nodded. Flynn had no idea how they were going to get Jacob and the spear, just the two of them. “Good, good.”
“Well now, let’s get that spear back.”
They snuck in, through the ventilation system, and approached the gathering of the Serpent Brotherhood gathering around the scale pyramid from the second floor. Flynn spotted an annoyingly familiar face. “Well well well, Professor Harris. I should’ve known he was evil. He gave me an A minus.”
Edward stepped out of the pyramid, spear pieces in hand. His two main henchman-hench people...the bald one and the lady, stepped out from behind him, Jacob in tow with hands bound behind him. “Serpent Brothers, our dream comes true tonight,” Edward addressed the gathering.
“Doesn’t that guy ever die,” Flynn whispered to Judson.
“We call down the power of the gods, the ancient ones,” Edward said, lifting the pieces up. Then, from the capstone, the pyramid lit up, blue energy coursing down to the base and back up like a scanner before flashing at the capstone. Edward and the people on the stairs with him, Jacob included, went into the pyramid replica as the others outside started chanting, led by Professor Harris no less.
Judson and Flynn made their way to the first floor, hiding behind a large stone head. There’s just too many of them. “I can’t do this alone,” Flynn whispered.
“Well, you got me,” Judson said.
“No offence, Judson, but you’re-” Flynn was interrupted by Judson slamming a patrolling guard’s face into the stone. “You bad mother.”
“I was a Librarian too, you know,” Judson said, and then sneaked off to get a better position on the crowd waiting for Edward. Flynn, knowing all the entrances of the pyramid best, decided to sneak in there because Edward was up to no good.
Flynn’s suspicions were confirmed when he got in there just in time to see Edward stab the bald guy with the newly repaired spear, and consume his soul before throwing him into the magical field created by the capstone. He was about to do the same to Jacob too, but Flynn was not about to let that happen.
“Dying by the very thing you hate, how fitting,” Edward said, and started towards Jacob, spear aimed at his stomach, but Flynn jumped out and tackled Edward before it could touch Jacob. The Guardian looked at Flynn in surprise, and promptly followed him out of the pyramid, only to be greeted by the crowd waiting on Edward. “Kill,” Edward commanded, then went back into the pyramid. The lady followed him.
Seeing Jacob needed his hands, Flynn undid the handcuffs. “Ha, Houdini, Prague, nineteen twenty six,” Flynn said as he threw the cuffs away.
Just then Judson joined them. “We have to get the spear back to the Library,” he said, which prompted the crowd to attack them. Judson went straight to work, taking down several men. Flynn glanced to Jacob, who was gawking just as much as Flynn was. “Get the spear away from Wilde, before he gets too powerful,” Judson commanded. Knowing he wasn’t much good in a fight, Flynn sprinted into the pyramid.
Professor Harris stepped out in front of Flynn, so Flynn used his momentum to break his nose. “You...you broke my nose!” the professor said, blood dripping. “How dare you Flynn!”
“Yeah, I did what you said,” Flynn mocked, grabbing the professor by his jacket. “I learned a few things in the big, bad, real world!” He turned the professor around and gave him a good kick, sending him down the stairs to the floor. Flynn couldn’t get farther into the pyramid though, as the lady came out, gun pointed at him.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” she said, voice disturbingly gentle despite the chaos around them. “We’re gonna rule the world. We can be together.”
Flynn blinked at her in confusion and fear, but thankfully Jacob had been paying more attention and ran up and decked her square in the temple. “Get your own geek,” he growled. Flynn moved past her on the floor, going up to Jacob, grinning. Jacob nodded towards the doorway, and Flynn ran inside.
Edward was standing just at the edge of the energy field. “It’s too late Flynn. The power of the spear is MINE!” He backhanded Flynn with inhuman strength, sending the Librarian into the nearby wall head first. Blood trickled out of gash above Flynn’s temple. He felt it, just a surface wound, but head wounds always bleed a lot.
Edward stalked over to him. “You’re the best they could come up with?” He then went to stab Flynn with the spear, but Flynn rolled out of the way, letting the spear impact the stone right where he had been. Edward pushed it back a couple inches with the force of his jab. Flynn barely got to his feet before Edward was swiping at him. In his backpedalling, Flynn tripped over rubble. “You’re too clumsy to even die properly!” Edward snarled, spear in one hand ready to throw. Flynn scrambled backwards into the wall, then promptly rolled out of the way.
Just then Flynn realized which stones Edward had shoved back. So he ran to the next corner, Edward trailing him. Edward caught him with the butt of the spear, recovered, and did what Flynn wanted on the third cornerstone.
After Edward hit the fourth cornerstone, Flynn was just beat up enough that he couldn’t get away quick enough. He got roundhouse kicked in the jaw, sending him dazed into a pillar. Edward then took him by the throat and hoisted him up like Flynn weighed nothing.
“Goodbye Librarian,” Edward said, and tossed Flynn towards the energy field, which promptly dissipated as soon as Flynn neared it.
“If even one of the support stones are off even by an inch,” Flynn said, struggling to get to his feet, “the whole pyramid collapses.” He picked up a bit of rubble already crumbling in his hand. “I’d say this was out of alignment.”
“I will destroy you!” Edward roared.
“You never will!” Flynn retorted. “You know why? Because the things that make life worth living can’t be thought here-” he smacked Edward under the chin with the rubble in his hand “-they must be felt here!” Flynn sent Edward stumbling back with a forceful blow to the sternum, enough to put him just under the capstone. And just as Flynn predicted, the capstone came crashing down onto Edward, finally killing the previous Librarian. The spear, undamaged, flew to Flynn’s hands.
Outside, Judson and Jacob had taken care of all the other Serpent Brotherhood people, leaving mess of bodies on the floor. “I believe this belongs to the Library,” Flynn said, using the spear for more support to stand than he’d like to admit.
Jacob didn’t seem to care, he was looking at Flynn with a proud smile...and maybe a bit of bedroom eyes, but Flynn couldn’t be certain considering he did hit his head.
---
Three Months Later
Flynn had taken his mother out for a brunch at a café, where of course she was trying to set him up with the three ladies at a nearby table. “Flynn is a librarian now, but he’s capable of so much more. He just needs the right woman to push him.”
“Mom, you don’t understand. Being a Librarian is actually a pretty cool job,” Flynn said. He leaned towards her a little. “And you don’t need to keep trying to fix me up, I told you that.”
His mom seemed a little taken aback at his bluntness, but brushed it off. “This mysterious J, never quite around to meet the mother, or even have a real first name.”
“I told you, it’s their first initial,” Flynn said, a bit exasperated. “Well, it’s complicated.”
Just then, a motorcycle jumped a potted hedge, drove right into the middle of café patio, and stopped right at their table. Flynn’s mother was shocked, but Flynn looked cool as a cucumber, though in his head he was battling the sudden rush of adrenaline.
Jacob pulled his full-face helmet off, smirking at Flynn. “Hey there, handsome,” Jacob said as Flynn stood up to greet him via a kiss. His mom gasped, making Flynn remember that he should introduce Jacob and not stand there thinking about how stupidly sexy the leather jacket looked on his Guardian.
“Jacob, this is my mother,” Flynn said, forcing his gaze to his mother for a brief moment.
“Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Carsen,” Jacob drawled, putting on that stupidly charming smile of his (it took all of Flynn’s self-control not to kiss it off his face) and offering Flynn’s mother his hand.
“Oh no, the pleasure is mine,” Mrs. Carsen said, taking his hand, which he then brought up to his lips to give a polite kiss on her knuckles before letting her hand go. She looked thoroughly charmed.
Jacob then looked at Flynn. “The Deadly Scorpion League has found H. G. Well’s time machine. We’re the only ones who can get it back.”
“Deadly Scorpion League, what is it with these bad guys and insect names for clubs,” Flynn said, a bit exasperated. Then he looked to his mother. “Mom, I get going,” he leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek, “see you soon.” He then got on the back of Jacob’s motorcycle, though he narrowed his eyes at the grin on Jacob’s face. “You’re smiling...why are you smiling?”
“Oh, deadly time-travelling ninjas out to kill us,” Jacob said like he was describing the color of the plates on the table.
Flynn shook his head. “Just a normal day at work,” he said, smiling as he put on the spare helmet. Once Flynn had secured his arms around Jacob’s waist, the Guardian sped off into the street, said ninjas hot on their tail.
-----
Apparently I just needed some more Flynnstone, because I had seriously thought my first Librarians fic for 2019 was going to be another Jazekiel one, or another installment on my Land Pirate AU. Though it wasn’t near as original as my other stuff, considering I used dialog and scenes directly from the movie. Oh well, whatever gets me out of my writing slump I guess!
I always pictured Stone as one of those “on the fence” characters, where he had the ability to be either a Guardian or Librarian with his skillset and personality. That’s probably why I wanted to play with him being a Guardian. Also, I wanted to play around with Stone’s history more, mainly giving him access to the Library earlier in his life. I didn’t think he actually went to college, so he did all his degrees online or something because of the aliases he used, but wiki says Stone went to college so idk. Mainly, my thinking is if Stone actually went to a college in person...he wouldn’t go back to oil rigging and he’d be a professor instead ( see “And the Happily Ever Afters” where that was his dream job).
Beware the Bear
Fandom: The Librarians
Rating: General/sfw
Relationship: Jazekiel
Word Count: 2333
The Library acquires a canine guardian after a mission to a monastery in Tibet, and it turns out he’s more magically skilled than anyone realizes.
Or, alternate summary: How many times did I type "god" instead of '"dog" when writing this? (the answer: it was almost every time I tried to write “dog”)
Also posted on my Ao3 here.
-----
Stone and Ezekiel being more than friends had been happening for a long while. They kept it on the down low, and thanks to Ezekiel’s paranoia, no one knew about them. No one seemed to pay any mind that they left together sometimes, and they carefully timed their entrances after spending the night at each other’s places, though more often than not they ended up at Stone’s place.
For the most part they kept themselves off each other unless they were alone in the Library, though they kept themselves in check more after Flynn and Eve got tethered. Neither of them were sure the new immortals didn’t know everything that happened in the Library. The Librarian and Guardian both assured they weren’t connected to the Library in that manner when the LiT’s berated them with questions about how it was like being tethered, but Stone liked erring on the side of safety. Neither Flynn or Eve ever brought up him and Ezekiel if they did know about the secret kisses had in the depths of the Library, and maybe a blowjob or two, which Stone and Ezekiel indulged themselves in sometimes.
The trio went on a mission to a monastery in Tibet, which according to the Library’s records of the place, was known for the temple dogs they raised. One of the dogs of the previous year’s litter, apparently the runt (Tibetan mastiff like dogs aren’t small, even if they’re the runt of the litter), took it upon itself to help the trio deal with the artifact messing with the laws of magic at the monastery. It turned out the dog was a vital part of the mission, with a nose for magical objects. One of the monks noticed how the dog worked so well with the LiTs, and ended up giving them the dog as the gift.
Eve was certainly surprised when they returned. “Um, is that a dog?”
“It’s a magical dog!” Cassandra said, bounding into the Annex, the small bear of a dog right on her heels.
Jenkins nodded at the dog almost reverently, and then glanced to the newly arrived Librarians. “You didn’t steal this dog, correct?”
“No, it was a gift for helping the monastery out with this,” Stone replied, placing an ornately carved wooden box about the size of a thick phonebook on the main table. Stone looked at Ezekiel sternly. “Do not open this here, no matter how much you want to see what happens.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Ezekiel retorted, patting the dog on the head.
“Before anyone opens it, I will take it to the dangerous artifacts wing,” Jenkins said, picking up the box gingerly before he left the Annex.
“Dangerous artifact taken care of, now the next order of business is him,” Eve said, pointing to the dog. “You need to decide if someone is going to keep him at their place, or if he’ll stay here, get the necessities for a dog, and name him.”
“You’re not gonna help us?” Ezekiel asked.
Eve sat down at her desk. “I’m not the one who brought a dog back.” She looked expectantly at the trio, who just stood there. “Well? Any names?”
Stone went thoughtful. “I always wanted to name a dog after Michelangelo.”
“Oh, I like the name Galileo,” Cassandra said.
Ezekiel eyed both of them with mild contempt for using the famous people in their fields. “How about Bear? Because he’s huge and from a distance kind of looks like a small bear.”
“I vote for Bear too,” Eve started, giving an apologetic look to the somewhat disappointed Stone and Cassandra, “Not that famous people have bad names...but Bear suits him more.”
Bear let out a content boof.
“Sounds like he likes Bear too,” Stone said. Bear looked at him, wagging his tail.
“Time for Bear’s first shopping trip!” Cassandra said excitedly, hurrying down the corridor. Bear loped after her, tail still wagging.
---
Two hours later the trio and Bear returned to the Annex with a nice, plush dog bed, new gold and maroon collar and matching leash (Cassandra insisted he needed it because it suited him, not because he belonged in Gryffindor), a bag of dog food half the size of Cassandra (which Ezekiel carried because he wanted to prove to Stone he could), and probably too many toys and treats because all three of them seemed to be competing for who could spoil Bear the most. Bear certainly wasn't going to stop them, he knew what was best for him.
He liked the monastery where he was raised, but he loved living at the Annex. Not only did he have six people to watch over (even if three were immortal), but the place seemed to heighten his senses with all the ambient magic. The magic certainly made his ability to project his thoughts much easier. It took a few days of trying to communicate to his people for them to realize they were actually hearing him, not just reading his facial expressions super well.
Cassandra was reading something intently, sitting at a stool at the main table. Whatever it was, Bear could tell it was perplexing, complicated enough to keep her hunched over the book for a good two hours, unaware that Bear was watching her. Instead of softly boofing to get her attention, he projected “Time for break” at her.
The thought snapped her out of her study; she glanced around the Annex, everyone else who was in there (Eve and Stone) still working away at their respective desks, not looking at her. Finally her gaze found Bear, watching her expectantly. She tilted her head to the side, thinking for a moment, then started to focus back on the book, so Bear projected the same phrase again.
This time she looked directly at Bear, initial shock flooded by curiosity. She waved a hand in front of her (Bear learned quickly that was how she used her magical ability), and then the words “Did you say that?” in her voice appeared in his head.
“Yes,” Bear thought back.
Cassandra grinned and shot off her stool towards the middle of the Annex. “Guys! Bear can talk!”
Stone and Eve both looked up, Stone a little less focused because he had been deep in research land. Eve blinked at Bear. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“Not verbal, telepathic,” Cassandra corrected. She looked at Bear, gesturing towards Eve.
He hadn’t had any success with getting his thoughts to Eve before, but maybe now that she was focused on him, it would work. “Can project thoughts,” he sent to her, but based on her lack of reaction, she didn’t hear it. Bear looked to Stone, trying the same phrase, but again he got the same blank look. Bear looked back to Cassandra. “They can’t hear me. Not sensitive enough.”
“He says you guys aren’t sensitive enough to hear him. I guess since I can send thoughts, I can receive them easier too,” Cassandra said.
“The monks didn’t mention anything about telepathy,” Stone said.
Cassandra looked at Bear for his answer. “Rare ability. Needs lots of ambient magic,” he sent to her.
“He says it’s a rare ability, and because there’s so much ambient magic here in the Library, it’s easier to do.” Cassandra started heading out of the Annex. “Let’s go find Jenkins or Flynn and see if they can pick up your thoughts,” she told Bear. He happily followed.
Flynn and Jenkins could, in fact, receive Bear’s thoughts, but not as easily as Cassandra could. When they finally found Ezekiel, which didn’t take as long as Cassandra thought it would thanks to Bear’s nose, they learned Ezekiel wasn’t sensitive enough either. Bear hoped with enough time and training from Jenkins, the ones who couldn’t hear him now could eventually.
---
Eventually that did happen for Eve , and once she was able to understand Bear, she used that talented, magical artifact finding sniffer of his to find the Librarians whenever they ran off when there was work to do. When someone got found, they were annoyed...but not for long because who can be annoyed with happy, fluffy dog that weighed as much as a person. Cassandra and Stone were always pretty easy to find, but Ezekiel liked to make it a game, to “keep Bear sharp” he told Eve.
Today Bear was sent to find both Ezekiel and Stone. He followed their scents deep into the Library. Last time Bear found them together, Ezekiel had heard him so he couldn’t surprise them. He was determined to spook the thief today.
Silently he padded around shelves, careful to keep his claws from clacking on the concrete floor. Their scents grew stronger, meaning he was close. There was more than just their usual smells; Bear noticed scents similar to what he sometimes smelled from the older dogs back at the temple, smells that meant in two month’s time, there was another litter of temple dogs arriving in the world.
Bear had seen Flynn and Eve put their mouths together on multiple occasions, but he hadn’t seen any of the others do that until he peeked his head around the edge of the bookcase Stone and Ezekiel were behind. Clearly Ezekiel was occupied enough to not notice Bear, being pressed against the bookcase by Stone, which meant Bear won this time. He boofed at them both to get their attention.
Both men were startled, Stone stepping back a good three feet. “Don’t sneak up on us like that,” Stone said, smoothing back his hair.
“It’s not his fault. Baird probably sent him to get us,” Ezekiel said, brushing out the wrinkled state of his shirt from Stone’s hands. He smirked at Bear. “Though you did good this time, I didn’t even hear you.” Bear let his tongue loll out, his version of a smile.
“Alright, let’s go see what Baird wants,” Stone said with a huff. Bear didn’t know why they seemed so startled; Flynn and Eve didn’t act like that, but then again this was the first time he saw Stone and Ezekiel doing that. Maybe Cassandra would know why. He always asked her questions when humans didn’t make sense.
“There you two are. What were you doing that was more important than being on time to our sparring practice,” Eve asked, that last bit aimed at Stone.
“Oh uh, was doing some research, and ran into Ezekiel,” Stone mumbled, trying to avoid the question.
Bear had no problem reporting to Eve, so he projected an image of what he’d walked into. Stone seemed to realize a bit too late that Bear could do that; as soon as he saw Baird’s jaw drop a little, he quit saying anything. Ezekiel was just intently watching the wall in between Stone and Eve, which meant he was focused on Stone in his peripheral but trying to hide it (Bear noticed he did that a lot). Satisfied his job was done, he plodded over to his bed and laid down.
Eventually Stone cleared his throat. “Whatever he showed you, uh-”
Eve cut him off, trying to do the best with the awkward situation. “I have no problem with you two...um...being intimate, but you need to do that in your spare time, not work time.”
“Understood,” Stone said, clearly ready for Eve to start walking to the sparring room.
Eve wasn’t ready to go just yet. “Can I ask how long this has been going on?”
“Well, you see…” Stone started.
“It’s been awhile,” Ezekiel answered, finally done with Stone’s awkwardness.
“You both know you don’t have to hide anything from us,” Eve said, looking at them both.
Stone and Ezekiel looked at each other, then Ezekiel said, “We know.”
Eve watched them a moment more, then walked towards Stone, heading towards the door. She clapped her hand on his shoulder. “Time to sweat Stone, and you can’t blame Ezekiel for distracting you to get out of the extra ten minutes you’re going to make up for being late.”
“I wasn’t gonna-” Stone started, scowling at Ezekiel when he started snickering. “Next time I’m not gonna listen to you runnin’ your mouth when I’m trying to do work.”
“Then you’re gonna have to do better controlling yourself then,” Ezekiel said smugly. “I didn’t even have to say a full sentence before you had me pinned against the bookcase.” As soon as he remembered Eve was there, he put on a nervous smile. She just rolled her eyes at him.
Stone laughed under his breath at him, then started walking out with Eve. “We’ll finish that later,” he said to Ezekiel.
“You better,” Ezekiel called after them, savoring the embarrassed/frustrated noise Stone made when he said it. Annex to himself, he walked over to Bear, who was just resting his eyes. “Stone’s not mad at you for earlier, you know, he’s just, not a very open guy.”
Bear nodded at him, tilting his head to the side after to get Ezekiel to continue. He knew that already, Stone didn’t smell angry one bit, but he also knew Ezekiel liked to talk to him too.
Ezekiel smiled at him. “You know, you may have caught me at a bad time today, but I’m not ready to let you have another win just yet. Five minutes, then try to find me, okay?”
Bear boofed and nodded at him, standing up and stretching.
“Game on then,” Ezekiel said, patting Bear on the head, then zoomed out of the Annex.
Bear did find him, mainly because Ezekiel didn’t do enough to cover his scent again (it took a lot to hide it from Bear), and managed to sneak up on him again, though Bear noticed Ezekiel’s mind seemed to be other places, so he got Ezekiel to take him outside for awhile.
Bear liked the temple; it was home, it had many kindred spirits, and the monks were very kind caretakers. But he loved being the first animal guardian for the Library.
-----
Post Notes: I had this idea floating around in my ever-growing list of fic ideas for almost a year, mainly when I was reading through The Dresden Files and got to Mouse being introduced. For those who don’t know, Mouse is Harry’s canine companion, a temple dog from a monastery. Essentially the dogs are Foo Dogs in Tibetan mastiff bodies, and act as sentries. They’re tough, but not immortal, and can interact with spirits. They also have a super bark, and are very intelligent.
In the books Mouse only speaks once, in Changes, but I figured with the amount of ambient magic in the Library, Bear projecting thoughts wouldn’t be a long shot.
The Intern
Fandom: The Librarians
Rating: General/sfw
Relationship: Flyzekiel
Word Count: 2408
Ezekiel happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Flynn gains a new intern.
AU where Flynn is in charge of the Egyptian exhibit as a professor, not student or Librarian.This is set when Flynn’s doing the Egyptian exhibit in the first Librarian movie, but for the sake of not writing underage fic, I’m aging Ezekiel up to being in his 20’s, considering Ezekiel was like 16 or something when he got the letter the first time.
Also posted on my Ao3.
-----
Ezekiel happened to be in New York at the right time. According to the poster he just walked past, there was going to be a big exhibit at the Museum of History in a few days, a replica of one of the great pyramids, complete with loads of artifacts inside. A goldmine, all in one place, ready for Ezekiel to take what he wished so he could replenish the fund he ran for abused kids.
He hadn’t been to that museum before; they never really had any pricy exhibits, the natural history museum always got them, so Ezekiel devised a plan to case the exhibit and figure out what he wanted to swipe. Donning the nerdiest outfit he could bare to wear, Ezekiel turned up while the students and other important looking people were frantically trying to set up and document everything in the huge exhibit.
The disguise worked well...too well. Not even five minutes into taking in the exhibit, a man, probably a professor by the looks of his outfit and the general nerdiness he gave off, called him over. “Hey you, give me a hand with this.” The professor was pushing a crate somewhere, apparently heavy enough that it warranted help and Ezekiel was unluckily the only one in the vicinity.
Ezekiel hesitated just long enough to make the professor annoyed. The professor scowled at him as he wiped away sweat from his face. “You can’t just stand around and expect to get a good grade.”
Finally settling on a persona, Ezekiel scurried over to him. “Sorry, uh, sir,” he muttered, pushing the considerably heavy crate. The professor pushed as well, but Ezekiel could tell he was doing the majority of the work.
The professor directed the crate to a collapsible table currently half used to hold a variety of artifacts. He stretched his back, then reached into the crate while looking at Ezekiel. “Help me empty this so we can get it on display.” Ezekiel nodded, carefully pulling considerably valuable artifacts out of the box, ignoring the way the professor was watching him. Ezekiel jumped a little when the professor asked him a question, definitely only because he was really playing into his persona. “I’ve been terribly busy organizing everyone and everything, remind me what team you’re here with again?”
“I’m, uh, with the artifacts team. My, er, specialty is items made from precious metals and gems,” Ezekiel stammered. He gulped when the professor narrowed his eyes at him.
“Precious metals you say. Tell me what this is made of,” the professor said, handing Ezekiel a small metal bust.
Ezekiel carefully took the head and turned it in his hands a bit. “Bronze, most likely a mild based on the shine, and since that’d be easier to sculpt. The eyes are smokey quartz. The gems in the necklace are lapis lazuli, emerald, polished carnelian, emerald, and obsidian,” Ezekiel explained, pointing at the gems as he named them.
The professor seemed mildly impressed, but also suspicious. “When would it have been made?”
Fortunately Ezekiel had seen a bust very much like it at an auction last month. “My guess would be around 2500 B.C. since I don’t know where exactly it came from.”
The professor seemed more impressed, taking the sculpture back from Ezekiel. “This comes from the collection in the British museum’s Egyptian exhibit, which their archaeologists in the mid 20th century found in the tomb of Userkaf. I’d love to have the pair of busts for this exhibit, but one was stolen years ago, before my time.” He stared at the sculpture fondly a bit more, then sat it on the table. “Keep unpacking. This whole crate needs to be unpacked and displayed today. We have three days, which I said was completely unreasonable, but here we are.”
A couple of students over at another table called for the professor. “Doctor Carsen, we need your help over here.”
“Coming!” His attention was immediately focused on the others. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Ezekiel, then scampered off to assist.
There was quite a lot of stuff to check out, see what was really worth having from this exhibit, and what better way to handle all the merchandise than to play helpful intern. He was going to sneak off and have a look, but true to his word, the professor came back within a minute. Apparently, unpacking to this Dr. Carsen meant taking each item out, and then giving anywhere from a two to five minute lecture about the origin and significance of each piece. The crate should’ve taken ten minutes max to empty, but by the time they got done, over an hour had passed.
Ezekiel didn’t know what was worse, that he lost so much time when he could’ve been casing the rest of the museum, or the fact that he kind of didn’t mind listening to Carsen ramble on about everything. Not that he actively listened; Ezekiel couldn’t tell much of anything about the history of anything he had handled in that time compared to his guesses at the value each item would fetch in various underground art markets.
Instead he spent way more than his fair share of focus noticing every little thing about this professor, the way his words jumbled when he got excited, the crinkles in the corners of his eyes when he smiled, the way he’d rock on the balls of his feet when he really got into the history of it. Ezekiel had a few rules when it came to thievery, and “don’t bang the target” was right at the top of the list, but right now it was getting easier to find loopholes to that rule than it was picking something to take.
To clear his head, Ezekiel finally got away from the professor when yet another group called him away for assistance. With his little time left before close, he skirted around the professor, surveying the rest of the displays in their various states of completion. There was a gold mine of things he could go for and get good profit, but that bust he handled earlier kept calling to him. It’d fetch a fair price by itself, or even more to the person who had bought the first head. The museum was way too busy now, but it wouldn’t be that night, so Ezekiel spent a little more time surveying the security measures before prepping for the night.
He expected the people working on the exhibit to continue well after the six pm closing time with the opening date just a couple days away, so he waited till after midnight before he ventured to a back door with an unloading dock. The security system recently went digital, so it wasn’t hard to loop the cameras, disable the motion and heat sensors, and unlock the door without anyone noticing. There were security guards, but only two for the large museum, leaving wings empty for minutes at a time, so Ezekiel had no issue making his way to the under construction exhibit.
Unlike the other wings, the lights were partially on still, creating patches of shadow over bits where assembly was finished and highlighting the folding tables with items strewn about them. No one was in the room at the moment. Ezekiel noted the table he had seen the bust last was unfortunately void of the object, so he quickly snooped through the dark, finished displays in search of his target. The next guard wouldn’t come through for another three minutes.
Just as he found the bust someone walked into the room. “Hey uh, I thought everyone had left.” It was the professor from before, looking a tad more stressed and worse for wear. “Oh, it’s you, from earlier,” he said just as Ezekiel sat the bust down and stepped into the light.
“Ah yeah, it’s me,” Ezekiel said, trying to play it cool.
“You slipped off earlier,” he rubbed his eye like one does when when exhausted, “you know, I don’t think I caught your name.”
“I like to keep it that way. Shrouded in mystery,” Ezekiel replied, leaning part of the way back into the shadows for effect.
“Funny, because I checked the rosters for everyone working on this exhibit, and unless you happen to have suddenly picked up that accent, which I highly doubt, you don’t fit any one on them,” Dr. Carsen continued, stepping more into Ezekiel’s space. “Who are you, and why are you sneaking into the museum at midnight?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Ezekiel said saucily while tapping Dr. Carsen’s chest, deciding that he should play into the oddly physical vibe that suddenly appeared.
To his surprise, Dr. Carsen didn’t back away. “I would, considering I can tell you moved the bust, which I assume was because you intended to steal it.”
Ezekiel patted his chest again, trying to hide his growing panic about Dr. Carsen reading the situation that easy. “Observant and well-read, I like that in a man.” He noticed Dr. Carsen look down at his hand before Dr. Carsen realized what he did, a good sign for Ezekiel.
“Are you, uh,” Dr. Carsen faltered when Ezekiel did his best to look enticing, biting his bottom lip and looking up at Dr. Carsen through his lashes (it helped that Dr. Carsen was a few inches taller too). “You’re um.”
“I’m what, love?” Ezekiel asked, tilting his head ever so slightly upward. Sure enough, Dr. Carsen reciprocated the movement.
“You’re really distracting,” Dr. Carsen settled, eyes flitting to Ezekiel’s mouth when the thief smirked.
“So I’ve heard. Though I can say,” he paused to place his lips mere inches away from Dr. Carsen’s, “you’re just as distracting as I am, in my opinion.”
Dr. Carsen leaned forward, lips ghosting Ezekiel’s, but then his brain started recovering, which meant he attempted to make space. “Wait you’re-”
Ezekiel was not gonna lose the ground he made; he slipped a hand around the professor’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. He expected Dr. Carsen to fight him a bit more, but near instantly Ezekiel found he was being kissed just as much as he was doing the kissing. In the back of his mind he remembered his rule, though technically his target wasn’t Dr. Carsen himself...so getting him in bed wasn’t breaking the rule, he reasoned.
Footsteps from a security guard echoed on the marble floor. Ezekiel pulled away only so far to speak so he could keep Dr. Carsen’s focus. “Should we take this somewhere else?”
Dr. Carsen nodded, his nose sliding against Ezekiel’s. “My apartment,” Dr. Carsen started, pausing to kiss Ezekiel again because apparently it had been too long already, “not far.”
The security guard walked in, startled at the two men being intimate. “Uh, sorry, just doin’ rounds,” the guard mumbled, then turned right back around and left the room.
Ezekiel kissed Dr. Carsen’s neck while his head was turned towards the guard, getting a gasp from the professor. “Unless you want to give him a show, let’s go,” Ezekiel said.
“Oh, uh, yeah, let’s do that, ‘s good idea,” Dr. Carsen said, attempting to do his best of talking and kissing and walking. They of course stumbled, Ezekiel’s hip hitting rather hard into one of the tables.
“Why don’t we focus on walking, then we can have our fun, hmm?” Ezekiel said, snaking his arm around Dr. Carsen’s waist as he promptly guided him towards the table that had a messenger bag that must’ve been the professor’s. Sure enough, Dr. Carsen reached out to grab it, not bothering to stop, slinging it loosely over his head. Ezekiel used the movement to sneak a kiss to Dr. Carsen’s jaw, then focused on getting them out of the museum before Dr. Carsen remembered just what he was getting distracted from.
Fortunately for Ezekiel, Dr. Carsen was entirely too easy to keep aroused. Kisses here and there, a little wandering with his hand, right tone of voice and word choice (apparently Ezekiel calling him “love” worked really well). It only took them maybe ten minutes of walking to get to the place that made Dr. Carsen halt and declare as his apartment building, and only one more to get up the stairs and into the apartment.
Dr. Carsen barely had time to take off the messenger bag and shuck off his suit jacket before Ezekiel pressed him against the wall. Dr. Carsen seemed to be enjoying himself quite a bit, based off what he felt pressed against his thigh, but before he knew it, Dr. Carsen switched positions, pinning Ezekiel to the wall. “Mmhmm, like being on top, do you-hah,” Ezekiel purred as Dr. Carsen went for his neck, nipping a sensitive spot.
“That okay?” the professor asked, voice muffled by the fact he spoke into Ezekiel’s neck.
“Oh more than, love. Why don’t we move this to the bed, hmm?” Ezekiel suggested. “Do with me what you’d like.” That got a look from the professor, one of need, and then Dr. Carsen was all too happy to cart him off to the bedroom.
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Ezekiel was not one to stay in one place too long, and that included people he slept with. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but Ezekiel knew he was probably nearing an alarm for the professor to get back to the museum and work relentlessly. Carefully he slipped out of bed, leaving Dr. Carsen’s arms empty. He started collecting his clothes, but found himself watching the professor sleep. His hair was mussed, mouth slightly open but not snoring, face looking relaxed and content compared to the stressed and tired look he had the previous night.
He shook his head, focusing on getting out of the apartment before he gave into the growing urge of climbing back into bed. For the most part he fought it, but he let himself do something he never did for anyone else; he left a note, not in his normal handwriting, saying simply “thanks for the fun, good luck on your exhibit” and signed it with an “E.” Then he was out and into the greying morning, feeling entirely more emotionally attached than he normally did after a one night stand.
This job was bust; he couldn’t bring himself to steal from Dr. Carsen. But there were others, and more to keep a bed with, he tried to convince himself, but he didn’t really believe it.
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Post Notes: With school starting and my semester going at 100% since the first day basically, I completely forgot I had this written and that last week was the Flynn x lits week. Oh well, at least I'm only a day late!
Liked this story, or any of my others? Feel free to buy me a coffee.
Dance with Me
Fandom: The Librarians
Rating: General, sfw
Relationship: Flarrington
Word Count: 1382
Professor Flynn Carsen and a particular visiting professor get quite tipsy at a faculty party.
Set roughly two years before Retreats are for Relaxing.
Also posted on my Ao3.
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Flynn wasn’t much of a partier when he was in school, and that carried over to when he became a professor. He knew house parties were good ways to be more personable with his colleagues, but all the social cues he had to pay attention to were annoying to say the least.
He about didn’t go to this party. He had just spent a stressful week grading subpar papers and welcoming the visiting professor from Cambridge...well the papers were the usual professor stress, the visiting professor was making Flynn forget he had the work to do. Dr. Darrington Dare was spectacularly brilliant, and elegantly handsome, and Flynn spent more time than he should’ve talking with him. When Darrington said he was going to Dr. Sanchez’s house party Friday night, well, Flynn was going to be there too then.
Darrington...and the five other faculty invited to the party...were there when Flynn arrived fashionably late (the first time ever fashion was the reason for his tardiness and not him being distracted). Everyone looked at him, but he only really noticed Darrington, who had stepped the late Victorian London academic look up a tasteful notch, certainly enough to catch Flynn’s eye anyway. A modern record player with two speakers played smooth jazz, which filled the couple seconds of silence until people went back to conversing.
“Flynn! My, you look dashing this evening,” Darrington greeted with a warm smile, shaking Flynn’s hand.
“I uh, well I can certainly say the same about you, Darrington,” Flynn said, internally sighing with relief that he didn’t start the night with saying something ridiculous.
“You arrived just in time. Dinner should be ready any minute now.” Darrington led him into the living room towards a couple other professors chatting while sitting in sleek armchairs.
Fortunately for Flynn he didn’t have to make small talk much; Dr. Sanchez appeared from the kitchen less than a minute later. “Okay everyone, time to reward your palettes.”
Everyone filed in to her dining room. Flynn ended up sitting across from Darrington, which he learned almost immediately was a bad idea because then Darrington took up the center of his field of view, and Flynn was practically unable to keep himself from studying Darrington’s face. He tried to make himself focus on his food and drink, which did a fair job at occupying his attention.
Dr. Sanchez was a master at pairing wines with her three course meals. Flynn normally didn’t get tipsy at her parties, but Darrington seemed intent on keeping Flynn’s glass topped up with whatever wine was with each course. By dessert Flynn was fairly aware of his growing intoxication, and quite aware of the precise shade of slate blue that was Darington’s eyes.
Darrington clearly had been keeping his own glass topped up, including indulging in the champagne one of the faculty brought for after the meal. Not that Darrington was reserved about friendly touches and gestures when sober, but during the usual post meal discussions happening in the living room, he certainly was invading Flynn’s space a lot more. First it was just a hand lingering on Flynn’s upper arm when he wanted Flynn’s reaction as he recounted a dramatic story, and then an arm around Flynn’s shoulders when he told an exciting story, like he had to physically keep Flynn’s attention even though that was quite unnecessary.
By the time Flynn and Darrington were by themselves, they were both thoroughly tipsy, borderline drunk. They got well into a conversation on a section of the Prose Edda when Darrington glanced over to the record player as the song changed. He looked back to Flynn like he had a brilliant idea and grabbed Flynn by the elbows. “Flynn, dance with me.”
Flynn blinked at Darrington until his brain caught up with the sudden subject shift. “Uh, yeah, sure,” Flynn responded eloquently. Darrington released Flynn, then offered him a hand in a more formal manner as he led Flynn to the most open area of the living room. Fortunately Flynn’s muscle memory of the dance classes he took years ago helped counter his not so steady steps, but only to a point.
Darrington nodded at Flynn’s proper dancing posture. “You know how to do the foxtrot?”
“Yes, but it’s easier to do when my feet aren’t fuzzy...I mean my head, the champagne,” Flynn rambled, feeling his face go red.
“Don’t worry, this song is slow. I’ll lead,” Darrington said with an endearing smile, his own face a little flush from the alcohol.
They made it about five steps in before Flynn stumbled. Flynn attempted to counter his misstep to keep them on beat, but it just made Darrington stumble as well, enough that Flynn had to pull Darrington back against himself to keep Darrington from having a seat on the floor, which meant they were now flush against each other. Flynn giggled before he realized what he was doing, which got Darrington to chuckle, and then because they were inebriated enough, they both laughed for a good ten seconds.
“It’s a good thing we didn’t attempt the Charleston,” Flynn mused, looking off to the side now that their faces were less than a foot apart. Though apparently looking away was enough to throw Flynn off his balance again.
“I think it may help if you focus on me,” Darrington suggested. Flynn could feel Darrington’s eyes on his face, but he didn’t anticipate the look of utter infatuation Darrington was giving him. Looking at him did help prevent the tripping, mainly because Flynn’s legs went on autopilot while he got lost in in Darrinton’s eyes. “See? You make a fine partner, on and off the dance floor.”
“Well-” Flynn paused to swallow, definitely noticing Darrington’s eyes dart to his neck when he did “-I certainly try.” It was already hard enough to process what he was feeling, and coupled with him already being a bit loose lipped, Flynn continued rambling. “Though since you’re amazing I wouldn’t want to do anything less.”
“I’m amazing, am I?” Darrington said, voice dropping an octave.
Flynn missed the rhetorical question. “Most definitely. Not only are you just as widely skilled as myself, but you are charmingly refined, and-”
Darrington stopped them dancing. “Flynn…” he started, taking his outstretched hand to catch Flynn by the tip of his chin as Flynn often didn’t look at people when he rambled. Once Flynn was focused on him, Darrington glanced at Flynn’s lips, slowly drawing his eyes back up to Flynn’s. “I don’t think I’ve quite clarified how I feel about you.” When Flynn didn’t move away, he leaned forward and kissed him.
They kissed for a long ten or so seconds, pulling away slightly when they needed a breath. “I, uh, well, I feel the same way,” Flynn stammered.
“I gathered that much,” Darrington replied, eyes crinkling in amusement. “Would you care to continue?”
“Oh yes, I certainly would,” Flynn said, barely finishing his statement before his lips were back on Darrington’s, this time with less hesitation and much more passion.
All too soon after they resumed, someone cleared their throat loudly next to them. Darrington and Flynn pulled apart to see Dr. Sanchez. “While I’m happy you two finally dropped the un in unrequited, the party is kind of over now,” she said.
Flynn glanced around the room, realizing that indeed all their colleagues had apparently left. He couldn’t quite form words fast enough, but fortunately Darrington still had the ability to speak. “Thank you for the lovely meal, Beverly. Flynn and I will be on our way,” Darrington said, standing to the side of Flynn but still with an arm around his waist. He looked to Flynn. “My flat isn’t that far from here, just a short fifteen minute walk.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Flynn said. After a moment he remembered Dr. Sanchez. “Good night, the party was wonderful.”
“I’m glad you two enjoyed yourselves...now get going before I have to chase you out with a broom,” Dr. Sanchez said with a laugh. A small part in the back of Flynn’s head felt embarrassed for that, but the rest of it was focused on Darrington, especially the hand in his that led him out of the house and to Darrington’s apartment.
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Post Notes: I just had to write this scene when I mentioned it in my other fic. I may be annoyed at the mess Dare caused the Librarians, but I certainly can’t deny how much I could see Flynn and Dare having a passionate romance...or at least being a bit loose lipped and in each other’s space when they drank too much wine anyway.





