Frank Sinatra's Skinny Ass

Clutching the steering wheel and crying aloud
But your voice on the airwaves drowns me out
Crazy to think that since five am, all I see is green eyes and I'm lost in them
But I get it she's tall and she's pretty and blonde, but she'll never love you like I could...

Clara hesitated in the kitchen doorway, ignoring Tiana's impatient tut from behind her, unable to take another step forwards. After making Dana almost choke on her cigarette in shock, Tiana had hustled Clara through the back door, giving her a dressing down of epic proportions. Now she was here, holding a tray, her hair dragged back in a high ponytail, wearing a bright blue waitress uniform that made her look like a demented air hostess, the length of the skirt not leaving much to the imagination. Normally, she would have worn a frilly white blouse and tight black skirt with heels, a pen tucked behind her ear, but now everything had changed, and not just the clothes.

The bistro was now a diner, with a jukebox in the corner spitting out Elvis songs every thirty seconds, making Clara's ears ache. Customers crowded out the booths, sharing ice-cream sundaes, or nursing lukewarm coffees. They were a mixture of young and old, students and construction workers, the latter eying Clara lasciviously, making her heart sink in her chest. Some things hadn't changed after all.

"Get your skates on," Tiana ordered, making Clara start violently, nearly dropping her tray of iced teas.

"Sorry," Clara said hastily, setting forth, only for Tiana to yank her back.

"I don't mean mosey," Tiana snapped, "I meant get your skates on as in roller-skates."

Clara did a double-take. "Roller-skates?" she squeaked, eyes growing wide with horror.

"No, Frank Sinatra's skinny ass," Tiana said deadpan. "Yeah, roller-skates!"

"I'm sorry, but I don't roller-skate," Clara said primly, regaining some of her composure. She could be dragged between alternate universes, stabbed in the side, hung upside down by the ankles and turned into a human piñata, but she would not demean herself by roller-skating around like she was an extra out of Xanadu.

"You do now, honey" -

- "No, I don't," Clara said tartly, and sauntered off, the sway of her hips earning her an appreciative whistle from her audience.

"I'm gonna dock your wages, Lady Mary," Tiana threatened from behind her.

"What wages?" Clara muttered, slamming an iced tea down in front of a young hipster guy, his overgrown beard insulting her aesthetic sensibilities.

"I would like a plate of stuffed mushrooms, please," a familiar voice intoned, making Clara's head snap up, her heart suddenly racing in her chest. "And a large cup of chai" –

- "Flynn!" Clara cried, rushing over to him, only to freeze at seeing him holding hands with Eve. They were squashed together in a window-seat, Eve practically in Flynn's lap, her ring finger sporting an indecently large diamond. It was Eve, and then it wasn't, her blonde hair long and loose, lips a slash of bright red, her dress clinging to curves the other Eve preferred to keep under control. But Flynn was still Flynn, wearing Clara's favourite suit of his, all crushed crimson velvet, an ebony silk cravat carelessly knotted around his neck, complimenting his black waistcoat.

"We don't sell whatever you said," Ellen the other waitress said, sounding bored, "only fries" -

- "I'll take this order," Clara said, shoving her tray into Ellen's hands, Eve and Flynn looking at each other, the former raising a well plucked eyebrow at this turn of proceedings.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" Flynn said in disbelief to Clara as Ellen skated off, balancing the tray on one hand like an expert.

"Yes, you do," Clara snapped, "or you did, I don't know."

"Well, while you figure it out, could someone take our order?" Flynn said, looking past her, Tiana catching his eye, brow furrowing.

"Never mind your damned order," Clara said, stooping down so she was eye-level with Flynn, making him draw away from her, "we need to talk."

"Talk about what?" Eve said, standing up, nearly knocking over the table. Eve was already a tall woman, but in heels, she was practically gigantic, the sight making Clara think twice about insulting her. But then her gaze fell upon Eve's engagement ring, and all sense of caution abandoned her.

"Let's start with the fact you're engaged to my boyfriend," Clara hissed.

"Your boyfriend!?" Eve said in disbelief this time. "That's my fiancé you're talking about!"

"You're his Guardian, not his future wife," Clara said, her voice cracking, "and he's the Librarian" -

- "Wait, how do you know about the Library?" Flynn demanded, getting to his feet as well.

"Is there a problem here?" Tiana said, popping up like a Jack-In-The-Box.

"The Serpent Brotherhood," Clara fired at Flynn, "they were killing potential Librarians" -

- "The Serpent Brotherhood doesn't exist," Flynn said, taken aback, "not anymore. And as for potential Librarians, there hasn't been one of them for the past ten years" -

- "Judson, Charlene" -

- "How" -

- "For God's sake, Flynn, it's me, Clara," she said, the tears welling up in her eyes now, "you know me!"

But Flynn just looked at her with narrowed eyes, appraising her as if she was his enemy, making Clara take a step back, finally realizing the truth, that this was the life she should have led, the life Flynn had wanted for her so long ago, away from the Library, as if it had never existed for her. There was no end of the world to be found here, only her own, and that didn't matter. That Clara would continue to take customers' orders, roller-skating the rest of her life away, selling her soul to survive.

Without a word, Clara turned and fled, the tears blinding her. She careered through the kitchen, shoving Dana aside, only to end up in Flynn's arms, knocking his spectacles askew for the umpteenth time. "Clara, what's wrong?" he asked, dragging her out into the yard. "Why are you dressed" -

- "You're in there," she half sobbed, "with Eve" -

- "Who in the name of Long John's long johns are you?" Flynn said from behind them, making Flynn and Clara whirl around, all the blood draining from the bespectacled Flynn's face.

"I'm" -

"Are you me?" the other Flynn asked, looking appalled at the idea.

"I-I'm" -

- "Fading," Clara said, grabbing her Flynn's hand, the other Flynn's startled face the last thing she saw.