This happened every time, Cassandra reflected and she was getting tired of it. They'd all been through so much, she thought things had changed. Tonight they'd gotten back to the Annex section after a case where they'd need to call on Baird. After the usual post cast wrap up and congratulations on a job well done, Baird had looked at her watch with a pleased smile.

"Hey, it's only 6:30, what do you say we all go grab some dinner?"

Cassandra had nodded enthusiastically. "Sounds good to me."

Ezekiel also agreed but then they looked over at Stone who was looking at his phone.

"Oh, not tonight guys. Some other night, but you have fun. Thanks for asking."

He was polite but Cassandra was silently fuming as she grabbed her coat. She was almost certain it was related to her.

"Are you okay?" Ezekiel asked as they piled into Baird's car.

"It's just . . .Stone." She sighed, "do you think he doesn't want to come because of me?"

"Nah," said Jones, shaking his head. "He probably thought of some topic he wants to research. The cowboy's not too social."

Baird agreed. "I don't think he's used to socializing with his co-workers. I got the impression that he didn't even do that much when he worked the oil rig. All that separation and putting in a box that's Stone's life. When he starts to become more comfortable in his new life, he'll come around."

"But it's been months . . ." Cassandra said.

"It takes time to change a lifetime of habits," Baird said softly. "He'll come around."

She was quiet as they got to the restaurant. She'd lost her appetite and just didn't now feel it. She still felt like Stone was purposely avoiding her. Even though she was pretty sure he didn't actually socialize with Ezekiel or Baird. But then she'd always come when a group outing had been planned. And he never did.

She was the one who'd betrayed them and broken his trust. Sometimes late at night, she'd remembered how he'd looked at her before everything happened. And wondered if she hadn't broken his heart too. She didn't believe in love at first sight, but she'd remembered his eyes. In that period of before. When they first met. How he'd looked at her like she was brilliant and not with the disappointment of so many others. How sad his eyes had been when he found out she was dying. How kind they'd been when he talked her out of a spell. And how gentle he'd been when he thought he was saying goodbye. But then she'd done something so stupid, so rash and his eyes . . . .Angry, betrayed and yet somehow so sad had haunted her dreams.

As the weeks passed, his eyes were not so angry any more. In fact, when he'd told her he just couldn't trust her, he'd been so kind, almost gentle, like his words were hurting him like they were her. And as weeks turned into months, she thought the tide was finally turning. But she realized that he was just being a friendly co-worker. They could never be anything else. She ruined that. They'd never even be friends, let alone anything more. And that wasn't enough for her heart, the part of her that saw him underneath all the walls and layers he built up. The heart that just wanted him to love her like she did him.

"Cassandra?" Baird asked gently. "Do you want me to take you home? Is it your head?"

"I do want to go home, but don't put yourself out on my account. Have dinner, enjoy yourselves. I'll get a cab out front. It's okay."

Baird and Jones both tried protesting, but Cassandra was firm. It was a nice night and still light outside. Besides, she'd grown up in New York City. She might look fragile but she was much more savvy then she looked.

That's why when she stood outside the restaurant and got her bearings (based on the GPS coordinates on her phone), she realized she was in an easily walkable distance from her apartment. If she tired or changed her mind, she could call for someone to take her home.

So she set off at a slow pace, enjoying the night and the assortment of people out on the street. Trying to clear her mind of a certain blue eyed art historian from Oklahoma.

About halfway from her apartment, Cassandra's stomach finally growled. She looked at the row of establishments nearby. One was a coffee house, she could smell sandwiches and baked goods. The chalk board sign out front listed a grilled cheese sandwich special. And live music, a couple of names underneath that she'd never heard of. The music drifting into the street was acoustic and sounded a bit country. She'd never really been into country but it reminded her of Stone. And a brief happy moment on a plane to Munich when she'd realized she had no entertainment at all and he'd shared the music off his phone with her.

Oddly enough, the song that she could hear snippets of sounded like one of the songs that had been on Stone's phone.

So she went inside. She ordered the grilled cheese and a cup of herbal tea from the counter. The place was filling up quickly but she managed to find a seat just to the right side of the stage. She settled down with her yummy sandwich and enjoyed the music being sung by a pretty young blonde woman.

She'd just finished her sandwich and tea when the girl finished her set. She'd asked a kindly looking older woman to keep an eye on her seat when she went to the restroom and then up for more tea.

While she was standing in line for the tea, she heard the man on the microphone announce the next act. A man named Kenneth Crane. The audience cheered loudly and Cassandra smiled. He must be very popular.

It was loud over by the counter and she couldn't quite make out the voice of the man introducing his first song. The voice sounded somewhat familiar but it was too hard to make out. He was singing by the time she got her refill and picked her way across the crowded room to her seat. She thanked the woman who'd watched her seat with a smile, then turned toward the stage.

And nearly dropped her tea cup. She caught it with only a minor splash and wiped her fingers off with a napkin.

Stone was on stage. That had to be Stone. His eyes were focused on a fixed point in the back of the room, many years ago one of the few high school friends she'd had had taught her that trick for making presentations. It made you look like you were looking at someone but you could control your nerves. She doubted anyone else knew what Stone was doing and thought he was looking at them. His eyes fell shut as he got to a particularly emotional spot in the song.

Cassandra just stared. She had no idea he could sing. Or play the guitar. And now she knew where he was going when he didn't go out with them. Or at night when everyone else went home. He had yet another life under the name Kenneth Crane. She wondered how many he had.

His voice was beautiful. And up on that stage, he was . . . well gorgeous was the only word that Cassandra could think of to use. She'd thought about leaving, but she couldn't. She just couldn't get her body to move. So she listened to him sing and felt like of all the personas Jacob Stone had, this one might be the key to who he really was.

Stone was nearing the end of the set and he'd dropped his guitar pick as he'd finished the next to last song. He leaned down to get it off the stage and as he did, he caught a glimpse of the woman seated to the right of the stage. Pretty red hair just like . . . he raised his head all the way and stared into her blue eyes.

Cassandra. He blinked. As always when he sang, he'd thought of her. Had tonight made him think some other blue eyed redhead . . .when he looked again, she was still there. His Cassandra. Not his, she could never be his.

They stared at each other for a heartbeat too long and he raised his eyebrows at her, looking from side to side. She shook her head and he felt some relief that she understood what he'd asked. She was alone so his secret was still safe from at least some of his team.

There was a murmur from the audience and he cleared his throat.

"Sorry 'bout that, lost my pick and my train o' thought. Decided to change the last song tonight, this one is called Something's Gotta Give."

When the song finished and he dared to look right again, Cassandra was gone. And he was almost grateful that she'd left. He hadn't a clue what he was going to say to her. But at least now he had until the morning to come up with something.

He was headed out the backdoor, a hat over his head. He was the most minor of celebrities but some of the girls that came into the coffeehouse liked to talk to him. Normally he wouldn't mind spending some time with a pretty girl after a show. But not tonight. Tonight his thoughts were of another pretty girl that he had to keep at arm's length. Even though all he wanted most days was to hold on to her and never let go. But like so much in his life, he couldn't have what he really wanted.

And he should have known better then thinking she'd actually left.

"That was beautiful," came her voice from the shadows as she fell into step next to him. Their movements evenly matched, as so often was the case. "I didn't know you could sing."

"I keep a lot of things separate, Cassandra."

"Why do you? You know about so many beautiful things and your family doesn't know a thing about it. And they probably don't know that you can make such wonderful music either. "

"Family ain't ever . . . Cassie, just leave it, will you?"

She shook her head and while he knew she'd stop asking, he could feel the questions and the sadness that again he was pushing her away. And for once, just for once he didn't want to push her away. He knew better, he knew so much better. But the girl got under his skin. Songs that hadn't been about her, were now. New songs that he hadn't dared to sing yet, were written for her.

"Let's go somewhere and talk," he sighed.

Cassandra looked around, they'd been walking down the street, probably in the opposite direction of where he was actually parked. But even closer now to her apartment.

"I live just two blocks that way, but your car?"

"Good point, come on," he grabbed her hand and directed her back around toward the alley she'd been waiting for him in.

She didn't comment on how he held her hand the entire way and then lifted her into his truck. She directed him down the street and around to her building. He recognized it now, he'd picked her up once or twice when she'd had car trouble but he'd come the other way. He'd never been inside, just picked her up next to the building as he'd lectured her for buying such an unreliable vehicle.

"I thought you were out with Baird and Jones."

"I didn't feel like it when we got to the restaurant, I told them I was going to call a cab but I decided to walk instead."

"And you ended up at that coffee house."

Cassandra shrugged, "my stomach started growling and the sign out front mentioned grilled cheese. And the girl was singing a song you had on your phone when we went to Munich. It was . . . comforting."

He nodded it made sense.

"And I didn't recognize the name outside. Kenneth Crane? Really Stone?"

"It's a . . .long story."

They were soon inside Cassandra's apartment. She offered him a beer and sat at the kitchen table looking at him expectantly.

So he launched into his story of how just like his IQ he'd realized quite young that he had some musical talent. That was okay to a point with his father.

"It was acceptable to sing around the house and in church. The Stones were big on the singin' in church thing, my sisters were in choir and even my Daddy sang when he was sober. It was fine to sing to make the workin' day go by faster."

"But not to make a living at it?" Cassandra asked. "Which you actually thought about, thinking it would get you out of that town?"

Stone sighed, he tried so hard and yet somehow she still knew him better than anyone had ever done. Or tried.

"No, singin' for a livin' was work for women or sissies." Stone shook his head. "It was another dream I buried down inside. But just like I wrote my papers and my books, I wrote songs. Like that last one tonight. One day, I was gonna get out of there. Even if it was only on a piece of paper."

"And the name?"

"Oh, years ago I went into Oklahoma City to pick up some things for my sisters. The weather turned bad, so I stayed the night. There was an open mic at the bar next to the hotel, so I figured what the hell. I doubted anyone I knew was there. But just in case, I used a stage name. The guy at the desk at the hotel was named Kenny, there was a restaurant at home called The Crane. I just tweaked it a bit. A couple of my jobs took me out of Oklahoma so I'd do open mics, sometimes small gigs in the next town. When we arrived in Portland, just like how the Library opened up my dreams as an art historian . . . ."

"Portland allowed you to be a singer," Cassandra nodded excitedly. "So many places here with live music. And no one at all who knows you. But you kept the name."

"I'd been using it so long that Kenneth Crane became just another part of me. Like the name I use in the art world. Just as real as I am."

Cassandra looked so sad.

"Don't be sad for me, darlin'." He reached over and squeezed her hand. "Thanks to Flynn, I get to live my dreams. It don't matter what name I use. I'm still doin' them."

"Do you want me to keep this a secret? I mean I think Flynn and Baird would be delighted. Ezekiel . . . well he'd tease you no matter what you were doing, so you know."

"I don't know. I'm not sure why I kept it from all of you."

"That's where you keep going when you don't go out with us?"

"Yes, I have a pretty steady gig there. Though, they're used to second careers so I can cancel out if need be. Cassandra . . . ."

Something just struck him. He'd remembered now how dejected she'd suddenly looked when he'd declined the invite to join them.

"Did you think I wasn't going because of you?"

She nodded, "you don't trust me. And you don't like me. I don't even know why you've told me all of this." Her eyes filled with tears.

"Cassie, I like you. I don't know how many times . . . .Cassie, I like you more than I should."

She stared at him, mouthing the words. He stood up and paced the length of her small kitchen.

"Did you listen to the words of a lot of those songs?"

"Yes," she nodded, speaking slowly, her heart pounding in her chest.

"I didn't write them love songs about you. They were written a long time ago. But now . . . you're all I think about every damn time I sing. Every damn song is about you!"

Cassandra gasped, moving backwards with the force of his emotions.

Stone knew he needed to stop talking. He knew that it was better to just keep his emotions bottled up. But meeting her eyes on that stage after he'd been singing about her all night just broke him and he couldn't. . . couldn't keep his heart from pouring out. "You just . . .you got under my skin from the moment I met you. I wanted . . .I wanted to explore the world with you . . .I wanted to run off to Paris and kiss you on the Eiffel Tower. I wanted to tuck roses in your hair and twirl you around in those ridiculous skirts you always wear. And then you had to . . . ."

"Do what I did. I told you Stone, I was desperate. You're not dying but you know what desperate is like don't you? Don't you?" She stood up, eying him in the kitchen. They'd had this out once, but now they were all alone. No Jones, no magical maze, no minotaur.

"Yes, damn it. I know what desperate is. And maybe I . . . ." He closed his eyes. "I didn't get how much pain you are in. If I'd just stopped and thought instead of deciding I knew everything . . . ."

"I was scared and desperate and alone, Jacob. I had not a friend in the world. Not one. I just wanted to be normal. And they came with their promises and their lies and I was so vulnerable and alone and naive. If I'd . . .if they'd come to me after I got to know you all, I wouldn't have done it. I will never do that again. I have a home and friends and a place."

He took a deep breath. "I've been surrounded by people my entire life, Cassandra and yet I was as alone as you were. Until the Library. Until you. "

"We can't keep going on this way, Stone. . . You're not the only one with these feelings. Everything you wanted to do . . .oh God, I'd love to do them. Run off with you, just leave it all behind. All of our disappointments, all the people who never understood us. Hurt us. You're the only one who ever understood me."

"And you're the only one who ever understood me."

They stared at each other across the kitchen, neither moving, so close and yet so far.

"But you don't trust me and I can't . . . . If you can't trust me then we need to let this go. We can't keep torturing ourselves like this."

"Collins Falls," Stone said suddenly and Cassandra winced. That case was so painful, not only did she have no right to have felt the way she did, but she still felt the failure keenly. "After Mabel . . ."

"I'm sorry about . . . ."

"Cassandra, please, if I don't say this, I never will."

Stone took a deep breath. "I tried to move on past you. I'll admit that. Mabel was probably the wrong choice. But it's not that I didn't . . .I did have some feelings for her. But after she . . . .Well, that night when I declined that drink with you and Jones, instead of going out to sing, I went to Paris. And I thought a long time about my life. And then I'd realized something. I trusted you that day. Unquestioning trust, I just knew that you were right. So I do trust you, Cassandra. But I don't trust myself."

"You trust me? But what does that mean that you don't trust yourself?"

"I put everyone and everything in a box. Like tonight, the musician is in a different box from the art historian and certainly in a different box from the oil rigger. Even the girls I've been with. Women that I said I loved. But I didn't, not really. But you, Cassandra . . . ."

"I what?"

"Damnit, I love you! And I don't know . . .I don't know what to do with that. I've never really been before. Not in the way . . .not in the way I love you. Who I really am loves you and he's never been in love before."

Cassandra was crying, but she smiled through her tears. "I love you, too. And I have no idea what to do with that either."

He stepped forward, touching her face, wiping the tears off her cheeks. "I keep thinkin' what if they use this against us? Just like the Serpents had leverage against you, what if this makes us weak?"

Cassandra sniffled. "It's pretty obvious there's something going on between Baird and Flynn. And it doesn't make them weak, it makes them strong. We can't stop how we feel, Jacob. We already find strength in each other. This will only make us better, stronger, happier."

"So used to never gettin' what I want," Stone's voice was just a whisper and his lips were so close she could feel his words over her lips.

"It's different now." Then she kissed him.

It wasn't a sweet kiss but it was beautiful all the same. They poured every pent up emotion into it: rage, pain, frustration, desire, longing, and finally love. It was overwhelming enough that they both had to cling to each other to stay upright. Stone began to worry in the back of his mind, if his head was spinning like this, he couldn't imagine what was happening to Cassandra. He pulled away gently and stroked her face until she came back to him.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly, "That was intense. I floated away myself, I was kinda worried about you."

She nodded, "but it was a wonderful place I went that time. I love you. You don't know how good it is to finally be able to say that out loud."

"Oh, but I do. God, I love you, Cassandra."

"What happens now?"

He smiled, pulling her close. "We learn how to love each other. Just like we did becoming Librarians. One day at a time. Hopefully with a whole hell of a lot less running and monsters."

"And what do we tell the others?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm sick of hidin'. And sick of not gettin' to have what I want. Let's just tell them."

She beamed at him, kissing him once more. When they parted, she bit her lip. "One thing though . . . ."

"Yeah?"

"Can Kenneth Crane be our little secret? I don't want to share that with them. I know that seems selfish. But of all of your personas, that one . . . ."

"That's the one that was open about lovin' you. " He kissed her forehead. "Then he's yours. And you can be my biggest fan."

"I always was."

The End

Author's Note: With the exception of Somethings Gotta Give, the rest of the songs "Kenneth Crane" sings wouldn't be Christian Kane songs. I'm leaving them completely fictional, but just assume they reflected Stone's relationship with Cassandra (the good, the bad and the frustrating).