The Apple of Discord

Jenkins sat quietly in his lab, his white head bent over a sheaf of papers covered with his notes regarding his latest experiment. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn't hear the soft tapping on the door.

"Mr. Jenkins?" Cassandra Cillian's timid voice broke through his concentration, and he looked up from the notes.

"Miss Cillian," he greeted her, a faint note of surprise in his voice as he stood and removed his glasses before walking over to her. "Always a pleasure; is there something I can help you with?"

The Librarian flashed an anxious smile, blue eyes wide.

"I just… I mean… What I wanted to say is…" The redhead fumbled nervously for the right words, then took a deep breath and simply blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"Mr. Jenkins, I heard what Flynn said about you being an overgrown Chicken Little and a miserable charity case, and I just wanted you to know that I don't think you're any of those things at all!"

Caught unawares by her outburst, the Caretaker blinked and cocked his head questioningly.

"I mean, I know you came here to get away from people and just be by yourself, because, well, people really suck sometimes—I totally get that," she hurried on, barely pausing to take a breath. "But you're definitely not broken-down and you're definitely not a charity case at all! I mean, after all, could a broken-down charity case invent anything like the mechanism that controls the Back Door? Because, I mean, you basically created a wormhole—and not even just a regular wormhole, either, which would be like, totally amazing in and of itself; but you created a stable, controllable wormhole, which is like…THE most amazing scientific achievement ever! I mean, the government would give anything to have that kind of technology and the person who created it!" She took a few steps closer to the befuddled man as she spoke, waving her hands animatedly in the air.

"And you know so much about magic that you're practically a wizard—at least in my book. And you know so much about how magic and science are related and, even more importantly, maybe, how they're not related and…" Jenkins raised a hand to halt the frantic flood of words pouring out of the young woman's mouth.

"That's very kind of you, Miss Cillian," he said quietly. "I truly do appreciate your support. But you know very well that Mr. Carsen was under the influence of the Apple when he said those things; I took them with a grain a salt." Cassandra bit her lower bit and shifted her weight anxiously from one foot to the other.

"That's true," she said slowly, carefully. "But I also know that you know that the Apple only brings out the worst that's already in people, so…the things Flynn said—the feelings behind them have obviously been inside of him this whole time, he just never said them out loud until the Apple brought them out." Jenkins stiffened slightly, but remained silent. Cassandra tentatively reached a hand out and lightly touched his forearm.

"I just…I just wanted you to know that I've never thought of you that way, Mr. Jenkins. I see how much work you do around here, and how much you love it. How much you love the Library. I just wanted you to know that…I think you're brilliant, and…wise and…despite your grumpy outside, I think you're really a very nice man on the inside, and I appreciate everything you do for us every day. I'm glad I'm here with you. To work, I mean…" Cassandra dropped her eyes, her pale cheeks turning pink.

Jenkins looked down at the Librarian, unable to think of anything to say in response. He'd never expected this. He understood that Flynn had been influenced by the Apple, but Cassandra was correct; it only brought to the surface feelings and ideas that were already present within someone. The Apple never caused its victims to think or feel anything foreign or incompatible with their current belief systems. Carsen's words had cut the old Caretaker more deeply that he would ever admit, because he knew that deep down inside that was exactly how Mr. Carsen felt about him. To him, Jenkins was just a broken-down old charity case with a tendency toward alarmism. He wouldn't be the first Librarian to have such a low opinion of the Caretaker, but Jenkins had hoped that Mr. Wilde had been the last of them. Cassandra was very clever to understand how the Apple works, and to perceive how hurtful Carsen's words were, and the immortal was touched by the young woman's compassion for him. Jenkins laid his hand on top hers, still resting on his arm, and patted it.

"Thank you, Miss Cillian," he said, his dark eyes softening a bit. "That's very kind of you. I very much appreciate your appreciation." He paused for a moment, as if debating something with himself for a moment, then gave her hand another couple of pats.

"I was just about to take a break from my work for a cup of tea; I wonder if you would you care to join me, Miss Cillian?" he asked, trying to sound disinterested but unable to keep the warmth out of his voice. Cassandra smiled up at him, her face suddenly bright as the sun, and a curious flutter went through the old immortal's chest at the sight.

"I'd love to!" she chirped happily. He removed his lab coat and slipped back into his suit jacket, then politely offered her his arm, and together the two of them headed off to the kitchen.