Loving Fool

Clara Hartley stood in the queue, Insular Romance: Politics, Faith, and Culture in Anglo-Norman and Middle English Literature tucked under her arm, tapping her foot impatiently, shooting swift, barbed glances at the treacherous, ticking clock. The early morning rush at Starbucks was always a nightmare to navigate, and today was no different. No matter how early she arrived to grab her usual Caffè Misto, she was always last in line.

The queue slowly edged forwards, Clara flipping open her phone, checking for non-existent text messages. Clara didn't even know how to text, even though she knew how to speak Occitan. Her social life was as extinct as the dinosaurs, but she liked to maintain the pretence she was a party animal. But the closest she had ever got to chaos was when Chaucer's Constance and Accused Queens was shelved under the wrong subject. Time slowly ticked on, Clara's foot tapping with it, then miracles of miracles, she was at the front, only for a man wearing a tweed jacket to appear out of nowhere and take her turn.

As he ordered a Pike Place Roast with extra kick, Clara just stood there, shock striking her like a sword, two worlds suddenly colliding within her, the memories making her legs nearly give out beneath her. There was her life as she knew it, and a whole other life just out of her reach, waiting for her to take it, if she so chose. She somehow understood without understanding that the Library was finally giving her the choice it had so long denied her; to either let Flynn walk out of her life forever, or to follow him into a fate of her own choosing."I choose," Clara breathed, "I choose."

Flynn strode past her, not even sparing her a glance, seeing only a stranger in a whole sea of strangers. As he made for the doors, the weight of that other world within Clara began to lessen, Flynn's footsteps echoing oddly through the air, taking him further and further away from her.

Clara bit her lip, before suddenly rushing after him, the heels of her knee-high boots skittering wildly across the floor as she went. "Excuse me," she gasped, tugging on his tweed sleeve, clutching her book to her chest. Flynn turned around, confused, only for Clara to drag his face down to hers, silencing the question on his lips with her own.

After what felt like forever, Flynn drew away from her, looking like she had just hit him over the head with a hammer. "You don't look the type," he said wryly, taking in her conservative clothes and demure demeanour.

"Never judge a book by its cover," Clara said smartly, before kissing him again, reality rewriting itself around them, golden light enclosing them in its own embrace.

~*~

There was silence in the Library, the books almost holding their breath, the words within their pages watching, waiting. Flynn leaned his forehead against Clara's, closing his eyes, feeling like he'd fallen a thousand feet. "Hartley," he whispered, "my Hartley."

"Don't," Clara breathed, turning away from him, "just... please don't."

Flynn stared at her, aghast. "Clara..." he began, grabbing her arm, trying to force her to face him, but she yanked herself free, dark eyes blazing with badly hidden anger.

"I said don't," she hissed through gritted teeth.

"Don't what?" Flynn challenged, advancing on her.

"Just don't, alright?" Clara said, backing away from him. "I'm... I'm..."

"I'm what, Clara?" Flynn demanded, trying to quell his rising panic. "Just spit it out, for crivvens' sake!"

"I'm done," Clara choked out, "I'm done with you and the Library. There I've said it, are you happy?"

Flynn stared at her, unable to believe what he was hearing. "What, you choose all this," he said incredulously, flapping a large hand at the Library, "and now you're just going to turn your back on it all and walk away!?"

Clara nodded, words failing her.

"But – but what about all we went through?" Flynn stuttered, clutching at straws. "All that we suffered to save the Library!? All that you underwent – why did you do all that if you're just going to leave!?"

"We had to save the Library," Clara said stiffly, "not just for the sake of the world, but for its own sake. I was prepared to do anything to achieve that, just like you and the others. My suffering was never more than yours or theirs. But it was my choice at the end of it all, to either give up that part of my past, to erase it from existence as if it had never been, or to live with the memories. So I chose to remember, because that is my right, not yours or anybody else's but mine."

"But in making that choice, you chose me," Flynn argued, "you didn't let me walk out of your life, yet now you're walking out of mine – and don't start that shtick again about it being your choice. Your logic doesn't stand up to scrutiny, Clara."

"You lied to me," Clara said, tears filling her eyes, "you've been lying to me all along. It took me time to trust you, and when I did, it was everything."

Flynn half turned away from her, his jaw working. "I was trying to protect you," he said, unable to meet her eyes, "I was trying to save you from yourself."

"You still lied to me."

"The Library was trying to protect you," Flynn said, rounding on her, "it's been trying to shield you this whole time. It sent you the letter for interview when you were seventeen, but you never got it – even after all this time, it never forgot - it brought you here, to me, because you weren't strong enough to know yet. It had you under a Benediction enchantment to buy you time, to give you a chance" -

- "You lied to me, Flynn!" Clara screamed, the tears rolling down her face now. "All our time together was built on the premise of a lie. Every touch, every kiss, every word, it's tainted."

"Even if I had told you, you would have forgotten," Flynn snapped, eyes wild, "because that's what the Benediction spell does" -

- "But in the end I would have remembered," Clara said, shaking from head to foot, "I wouldn't remember you lying to me all down the line!"

Flynn faltered, the tears springing to his own eyes. "This... this isn't just about that, is it?" he said, his fists clenching by his sides. "We've been falling apart for a while now, haven't we?"

Clara involuntarily remembered Jacob in that other world, the life she might have had with him; the life Flynn had with Eve, the engagement ring on Eve's finger. But she forced herself to forget, that had never been, and would never be. "After my day off," she said brokenly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "it was never the same. But that was because of that phone call – I remember, I was trying to phone you, and it must have gone through. You heard every word" –

- "I heard everything," Flynn said, his voice cracking, "but I knew you would forget, yet... yet something changed, a line had been crossed. That day did something, it damaged us. You... you weren't the same. So I started to keep away, because then I didn't have to look upon your face, seeing a stranger standing where you should be. I... I could pretend everything was as it ever was – that I wasn't losing you, that you weren't turning to Jacob for what I couldn't give you" -

- "Flynn" -

- "I know," Flynn said, half turning away from her again, "but all the same, there's something there between you and him. You can deny it, deluding yourself, but it's there, Clara; it was there when I wasn't."

"You had to find the Library," Clara said, taking a step forwards.

"But I always came back," Flynn said, facing her, "I always came back to you."

Clara turned away from him this time, pushing the hair out of her face.

"Jenkins never told me about that day at the science fair," Flynn then said tiredly, "and that drove me further from you. Maybe he was trying to protect you" -

- "Maybe he was trying to protect you," Clara said quietly, startling him, "to shield you from your greatest fear."

Flynn swallowed hard, his chin trembling.

"Don't hold it against him, Flynn. You... need each other," Clara said, something in her eyes making Flynn suddenly grab her arm, trying to stop her from their final farewell.

"I need you," Flynn said from between gritted teeth, "I need you, Hartley. So don't do this, don't throw everything away. Remember Venice? What we have, it was still there – it's still here, Clara. So don't leave. Don't leave the Library. Don't – don't leave me."

But Clara just let out a bitter laugh, the tears beginning to blind her again. "God, this is ironic, isn't it?" she said, her words striking Flynn like a whiplash. "There was a time when you couldn't wait to get rid of me – you told the Library that you didn't need anyone, that you were doing just fine on your own" –

- "For Pete's sake, Clara" -

- " 'I want you to leave the Library - to live your life as if the Library never existed'," Clara quoted, making the blood drain from Flynn's face, "that's what you said, so that's what I'm doing. I'm leaving the Library, it will no longer exist - for me anyways" -

- "Clara, please" -

- "I never fitted in here, Flynn," Clara snapped, rounding on him, "I was a square peg in a round hole. Everyone else had their niche, I had nothing. I – I was just the charity case, a pity party. But that's behind me now, I'm moving on" -

- "Do you regret it?" Flynn said suddenly, startling her. "Do you regret your time here? You might accept the memories, but have you made peace with your past? Am I a mistake you wish you had never made?"

"No," Clara said, shaking her head, "I don't regret any of it, you or anything. I – I was... happy. Despite everything, I was... content. But that was then, and this is now. I'm leaving, Flynn, and that's... that's it."

Flynn studied her face for a long moment, seeing her whole story. She had been running her whole life and she was still running. Nobody could stop her – not him, not even the Library. "It's your choice, Clara," he said softly, "your choice."

Don't ever pick up the man
If you don't think he'll understand
Don't ever trust yourself if you
Have a history of being a loving fool...

~*~

Clara turned slowly on the spot, surveying the rows of bookshelves and display cases stretching into the distance, the soaring ceiling curving over their heads like a sky. It had been worth it, worth it all. Flynn stood back, giving her the space she so desperately sought, his heart breaking in his chest. Despite what she felt, Clara didn't seem to realise she was back where she belonged, her blood bringing back the Library, consecrating the bond between them.

"There you are!" Cassandra gasped, rounding the corner of the cannibalistic curiosity cabinet, the sound of her voice making Clara and Flynn spin around. "Come on! Eve's having kittens!"

"What!?" Flynn exclaimed, intrigued despite everything. "Really?" Anything was possible in the Library after all.

"No," Cassandra said, rolling her eyes, "she's just freaking out" - The rest of her words were drowned out by Clara's sudden hug, her embrace almost suffocating the life out of Cassandra. "Can't-breathe!" Cassandra squeaked, blue eyes almost bulging.

"Sorry," Clara said, finally letting her go, "I... it's been a long time," she finished weakly, averting her eyes from Cassandra's suddenly curious ones.

"Come on," Cassandra then said, grabbing her hand, before hauling her in the direction of the library wing. "You're missing the fun!"

Clara let herself be dragged along, Flynn following her, his shoulders hunching, knowing where this would lead. She shot a helpless glance over her shoulder at him, but Flynn turned his head away, making the tears well up in Clara's eyes again, the enormity of her actions finally beginning to hit her.

"Hey Hartley!" Jacob boomed, swaggering over to them. "Where the hell have you been!?" He threw his arms around her, Cassandra almost getting crushed again, Flynn suddenly very interested in his fingernails.

"Here and there," Clara said vaguely, detaching herself with some difficulty. "What's with the standing on ceremony?" she finished, brow furrowing.

"We're graduating," Ezekiel announced, fist-bumping her, "no more LIT plates."

As he spoke, Eve came down the sweeping staircase, carrying a set of leatherbound journals, Jenkins at her heels, not a silver hair out of place. For one moment, his gaze met Clara's, the world hanging in the balance between them, and then he smiled, a mere quirk of his lips, but a smile nonetheless, making Clara smile back in what felt like the first time in forever.

"Good, we're all here," Eve said, smiling at Flynn and Clara, although something glimmered oddly behind her blue eyes, "for a moment I thought you had both bailed on us."

"Not me," Flynn said lightly, making Clara glance sharply at him.

"I had Jenkins make up small versions of the clippings book," Eve explained, handing the journals out, "a different case each day for each one of you."

"You can team up on some," Jenkins said, circling them, "and go solo on others – just like Cassandra was doing, setting an extremely high standard might I add," he said, nodding at Cassandra who squirmed excitedly at her success being acknowledged. "Of course you can come back and get us if you need any help – but don't need too much help, that would be... disappointing," he said dourly, face suddenly forbidding.

"Are you sure we're ready for this?" Jacob asked, exchanging a doubtful glance with the others, Clara deliberately keeping her gaze focused on the ground.

"More than ready," Eve said firmly. "Trust me, you'll be fine."

"No offence... but I could do with a break," Ezekiel said uneasily, "despite my many awesome achievements, I believe in having a breather. Even heroes need to take some time-out."

"I was spinnin' a tale to my family that I was down on an oil refinery in Texas," Jacob added even more uneasily, "so I was plannin' at some point to swing by an' say hi to to my folks, just to check in with them, y'know?"

"Sounds like our Librarians need to catch up with life," Eve said thoughtfully, studying them. "How does a short sabbatical sound, Jenkins?" she fired at him, making him flinch.

"Be my guest," he said abruptly, "as long as they don't let the dust settle, they can tend to their private affairs."

"My family and I aren't really..." Cassandra began, her voice trailing off, "so... I'll just work on my cases," she said in a rush, clutching her clippings book for dear life.

"What did I say about high standards?" Jenkins said, bestowing an approving nod upon Cassandra, making her blush becomingly. "She'll be hard to beat," he added in a loud aside to Eve, making the others roll their eyes. Cassandra would always be Jenkins's star pupil, a pedestal they had no desire to be placed on.

"What about you, Clara?" Eve asked, glancing over at her, brow furrowing slightly. "What's your plans?"

"I... I'm leaving," Clara said, startling them all, "I mean, I'm quitting." She set down the clippings book, her hands shaking, Flynn turning away, avoiding Eve's suddenly accusing stare.

"What do you mean you're quittin'?" Jacob demanded, exchanging a bewildered glance with Ezekiel, Cassandra standing frozen to the spot, her pretty face shocked. "You've just qualified as a fully-fledged Librarian, man!"

"I... I can't, I just can't, alright!?" Clara burst out, before breaking down into tears, burying her face in her hands.

"Let's give her some space, hmmm?" Jenkins said, assuming command of the situation, ushering everybody but Flynn out of the library wing. "Chop chop, chums!" he said, closing the doors on their protesting faces, before turning to face Flynn and the still sobbing Clara. "Here, Charlene left you a letter," he said abruptly, pulling out a crisp white envelope from the inside of his waistcoat and handing it to Flynn, who took it, slightly startled. "Hartley, stop the hoo-ha," he then fired at her, making Clara raise her head from her hands, "it's not the end of the world – not anymore anyways."

"She's leaving the Library, Jenkins," Flynn choked out, stuffing the envelope into his pocket, "that pretty much constitutes the end of the world to me."

"Maybe to you, but not to me," Jenkins said stiffly, "but then again, I'm not the one warming her bed."

"You're loving this, aren't you?" Flynn spat. "You never wanted her here in the first place" -

- "And neither did you," Jenkins retorted, "but that's neither here or there. Clara's been to the gates of hell and back, so it's only natural she wants to turn tail; to curl up in a ball and cry and so forth. She is not an adventure, Flynn, she is a girl" -

- "This is not the time to misquote popular young adult fiction at me," Flynn said, fists clenching at his sides, "so I suggest you quit while you're ahead."

Jenkins just bowed his head, before turning to Clara, his face becoming uncharacteristically soft. "Thank you," he said quietly, startling her, hesitating before smoothing back her tumbled brown hair, startling her even further, "for what you did, thank you."

Clara stared at him, before recovering herself. "The others, they don't remember, do they?" she said, changing the subject, hiding her still shaking hands behind her back.

"No, they don't," Jenkins said, dropping his hand to his side, "I theorize Flynn only remembers fragments, although I suspect Eve may recall more than she lets on – after all, during the Christmas affair, she fractured herself across space and time, existing everywhere all at once" -

- "Jenkins," Flynn said warningly, pacing the floor now.

"You can't stop her from leaving," Jenkins snapped, "and neither can I, it's her choice."

"If somebody says that one more time, I swear I'll scream" - Flynn began, only to stop short, his attention suddenly riveted on something only he could see.

"What is it?" Clara asked, alarm bells suddenly starting to ring in her head.

"I'm... I'm fading," Flynn said, turning to her, his voice becoming bizarrely high. "From the feet up," he added oddly, holding up his leg, everything below his ankle completely gone.

"Oh my God," Clara said, her hands flying to her mouth, "oh my God!"

"Keep it together, Clara," Jenkins ordered, snatching up a magnifying glass, his face paling despite himself.

"This is my fault, isn't it!?" Clara cried, the tears beginning to fall afresh, Flynn now running around like a headless chicken on non-existent feet. "I've undone my decision" -

- "I'm too dishy to disappear!" Flynn bewailed to the heavens. "Who's going to colour-code my cravat collection now!?"

"Do something," Clara sobbed, grabbing Jenkins's arm, "for God's sake, do something!"

Jenkins just slapped her across the face with the magnifying glass, which turned into a rubber fish at the last second, sending her sideways, before transforming into a bucket of water which Jenkins threw over Flynn, stopping him in his sopping tracks. "I always knew a magical magnifying glass would prove useful," Jenkins said in an undertone before setting it down on the table, "so useful I may invest in another one."

"Jenkins," Flynn said, his voice cracking, "what in the name of Long John's long johns is happening!?"

"You have everything and nothing to do with this," Jenkins fired at a still stunned Clara, "but it was your choice," he said, whirling on Flynn, the tails of his frock-coat flying, "and now he has to live with the consequences of that choice," he said, turning to Clara again.

"Even as it kills me!?" Flynn squeaked.

"No," Jenkins said, now pacing the floor, brow furrowing, "of course not. But in your alternate timeline, you chose not to attend that interview, disobeying a direct order from the Library I might add" -

- "Get to the point!" Clara screeched as Flynn started to fade further from view.

"The point is you dragged him out of his own timeline and into yours, wherein he died, the end – or almost anyways," Jenkins said, eying Flynn like he was from Mars.

Clara just gaped at Jenkins, resembling the rubber fish he had just slapped her with.

"You are what killed him," Jenkins said from between gritted teeth, "yet you are also what is keeping him alive. The alternate timelines acted as a sort of Faraday cage – even if someone died in their substitute life, once reality righted itself, they would be restored to their original existence – but you robbed him of that refuge," Jenkins continued, circling Clara, "he became part of your timeline instead, a sort of bizarre graft – what I'm trying to say in shorthand is that the only reason Flynn is still here so far is because you're here."

"But the time she bought me is evidently running out," Flynn said acerbically, flexing his now see-through fingers.

"Which is why she has to go back and make sure you become the Librarian," Jenkins said, making for the back door, "and that you attend that damned interview!"

"What!?" Clara protested, doing a double-take.

"If Flynn fades from existence," Jenkins explained impatiently, "so will everything he has ever done, all those souls he saved, the apocalypses he averted" -

- "All those sartorial successes I sported," Flynn wailed, burying his face in his now non-existent hands.

"Fine, I'll do it," Clara said, face completely bloodless, "I'll go back."

"If he goes down, he's taking you with him," Jenkins warned her, flinging open the back door.

"Never mind me," Clara spat, tucking her hair behind her ears, "worry about Casper over there."

"You can't escape your fate, Clara Hartley," Jenkins said quietly, but she just looked at him, holding his gaze for a long moment, before throwing herself into the fray, history repeating itself. Jenkins closed the doors behind her, exhaling sharply before turning to Flynn, only to find himself facing a pair of floating eyeballs. "Oh joy," he said dourly, "oh joy."

~*~

Author's Note: The sequel, Fools & Sages, can be found under the 'My Stories' section of my profile.