Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Leverage POV

It’s been some time since the team has seen Eliot and despite knowing that Leverage’s resident Hitter is more than capable of taking care of himself. However, it’s not like him to not check in with the rest of the team, and his family. The last they heard from him was when Eliot had his bags packed and stated his father needed help back home in Oklahoma. ”Should take a few weeks, I’ll be back soon.”, he said. But Eliot’s been AWOL for over six months now. Needless to say, the team’s emotions went from concerned to downright worried, and although mastermind Nathan Ford is too proud to admit it, he’s worried too.

“Alright, what do we got, Hardison?” Nate exclaimed as he took his seat facing the large monitor in their briefing room and took a sip of his whiskey, which earned him a stern look from Sophie at his left.

“So, here’s what we got,” Hardison clicked a button and a picture of Eliot popped up on the monitor, “Eliot Spencer, Hitter, amazing cook, and my best friend, has been missing for some time.” Another pause allowed Hardison to click his pointer twice to bring a picture of a moderately sized home and an oil rig. “His family owns a rather successful oil rig, and for some generations too. Turns out that recently-”

“Did Eliot leave us to run his old family’s business?!” Parker interrupted.

“Now, hold on there mama, I was just getting to that.” Hardison clicked his pointer again and a newspaper article appeared over the previous two pictures, “As I was saying before I got so rudely interrupted,” he threw a playful wink at Parker, “it turns out that recently there was an accident involving a piece of loose piping hitting a rig worker, Jacob Stone, in the head, causing him to lose consciousness. Overall, the whole incident landed him in the ICU for eighteen days.”

“Hold on,” Sophie said, motioning with her hand. “What has any of this have to do with Eliot?”

“Well,” Hardison sighed, “that’s the thing, it has everything to do with Eliot.” He clicked on his pointer one more time, allowing a sole picture of Eliot to come on the screen. It was of him, with much shorter hair, allowing them to see stitches on the side of his temple, laying on the hospital bed with a weak smile and a thumbs up. It was posted on social media by a profile with the name of Isaac Stone, with a caption indicating that his son was okay. “It seems like Eliot was going by an alias while he was with us, that’s why it took him so long to track him down. Eliot’s real name is Jacob Stone.”

“If he’s been out of the hospital, why hasn’t he come back or contacted us?” Nate queried

“Well, after hacking into Eliot’s chart at the hospital-“

“You hacked into his medical records?” Nate asked raising an eyebrow.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, go on.” Nate replied before taking another sip of his drink.

“After hacking into his records, the doctors stated that after Eliot, or Jacob for that matter, woke up, he experienced lapses in his memory.”

“So,” Sophie said rising out of her seat and moving to stand on the opposite side of the monitor as Hardison “What was the last thing he remembered after he woke up?” she asked, folding her arms.

“It wasn’t super clear, but based on the doctor’s notes, it seemed like it was jumbled. So, he remembers that he needed to go back home to help out his Dad, but he doesn’t remember what he was doing or where he was before he left, they noted that it could be a combination of both dissociative and post-traumatic amnesia.” Hardison explained.

“So, you're saying there’s a chance that Eliot doesn’t know who we are?” Parker asked solemnly.

Hardison sighed at Parker’s question. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. We won’t know until we speak to him, but that’s not all.” He clicked on his pointer one more time and all the pictures went off the screen, and a video popped up in their place. “After finding out about the hospital visit, I had my facial recognition software comb through CCTV nearby to see if we can get a pin on Eliot, my baby found this video from a bar fight about two months ago.”

Hardison clicked on his pointer once more to allow for the video to play, the video, although in color was a little grainy in quality and had no sound. Despite this, the team was able to see Eliot at the counter alone, then approached by an attractive woman. She was facing away from the camera, but the two of them appeared to be talking. Eliot said something with a smile and the woman turned away. Eliot’s smile dropped and he started saying something that wasn’t picked up as there was no audio.

What happened next was utterly unexpected. The woman that Eliot was once speaking to kicked him to the ground and pulled out a katana, if it wasn’t for a blonde woman storming in and interfering when she did, the other woman would have landed a killing blow. After the bar fight had finished devolving into chaos, the blonde woman escorted Eliot out of view of the camera and the video stopped.

“That doesn’t look good!” Sophie exclaimed with worry in her tone and pointed towards the video, “It didn’t even look like he knew to defend himself or fight back! Nate, we have to find him before anything else happens. If he can’t remember who he is then he can be in danger!”

“I agree.” Nate took a long sip of his drink, finishing it off, stood up from his seat, and leaned over the table. “Hardison, do we have any idea where Eliot is now?”

A wide smile plastered across Hardison’s face. “As a matter of fact, I do.” He clicked on his pointer once more and a new picture from Portland, Oregon’s CCTV feed came up. It depicted an image of Eliot with three other people: a redheaded woman, a young-looking man, and the blonde from the previous video trailing behind them. “It would appear, as of a week ago, Eliot has been seen in our backyard, near the St. John’s Bridge, no less.”

“Alright,” Nate said clearing his throat, “If Eliot doesn’t remember who we are, or why someone might be after him, we have to take precautions. Make sure we don’t accidentally make his brain explode.”

“His brain can explode!” Parker shot up from her seat, “We can’t do that, we need his brain NOT to explode.”

“N-no, Parker, it won’t actually explode. It's a figure of speech.” Nate explained.

“Hold on,” Sophie interjected, “We’re going to pull a con on Eliot? One of us?”

“Yeah, why not?” Nate paused and scanned the faces of the others, “Let’s go steal us a Stone.” Nate stated as he walked away from the rest of the group.

~*~

Librarians POV

They’ve been at it for hours. As Flynn was off on some great adventure, he wanted the trainee librarians to investigate a new magical artifact that appeared in the book. Again. Without them and his Guardian Eve. In the background, Colonel Eve Baird wished for her changes to stay in place as she sat at Flynn’s desk. Cassandra passed a book to Jacob so he could see an article she found, while Ezekiel leaned back in his chair tossing an orb in the air and catching it as it fell.

“You know,” Ezekiel started as he continued catching the orb, “Portland is a large place, and I am positive that there are more fun things to do than read dusty old books all day.”

“I’m sure there is Jones, but we got work to do here. Need to make sure the Serpent Brotherhood doesn’t get any relics that belong to the library.” Eve explained moving more objects on the desk.

In the back of Jacob's eyes, a flash caused him to get a headache, causing him to apply a few fingers to his head. With closed eyes and a slight downward tilt of the head, he grunted. There was something about this town that gave him a headache, something that felt familiar but new simultaneously. “What the hell is wrong with me?” he thought to himself.

“Jacob?” Cassandra asked quietly as she placed a hand on his shoulder, “Are you okay?”

Jacob opened his eyes and looked at the concerned face of his associate. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I just need some air, and some coffee.” Jacob replied as he stood up and placed his hand on hers, giving a small smile while reassuring her.

“Now we’re talking, I’ll come with you!” Ezekiel stated happily as he jumped up from his seat, and the orb he was playing catch with dropped to the floor with a loud thud. “Oops, my bad.”

“No, Jones, you stay here. I don’t want to have to chase you all across Portland just because you wanted to get into trouble.” Eve commanded.

“Geez Eve, no trust at all.” He chuckled back at her, “Jacob since you are going on a coffee run, mind getting me my usual?”

“That frozen sugar drink? You’ll rot your teeth out eventually with those. You want anything, Cassandra, Colonel Baird?”

“A green tea? With some honey?” Cassandra replied.

“Small black coffee, two sugars. Thanks, Stone.” Eve added.

“No problem, I’ll be back.”

As Jacob made his way out of the Annex, a small remnant of his headache remained. He kept thinking back at what he was doing before he became a Librarian, well Librarian trainee. He remembered the works he published under his alias Dr. Oliver Thompson when he was sent overseas when he was still just a stupid kid, and even a time he was dressed in a Santa Claus outfit running through a mall.

”Why did I do that again?” he thought to himself.

He pushed his thoughts away as he continued on his way to a local coffee shop. It wouldn’t take him too long to walk to the shop, as it felt as if he’s been there a dozen or so times. He wasn’t too far now, just down the block and Jacob would have some hot caffeine to soothe his migraine. Shifting his thoughts back to the artifact for a brief moment, he didn’t notice as he bumped into another person, causing them to drop a bag of books and magazines between them.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. Let me get that for you.” Jacob said as he bend down to pick up the bag for the stranger.

“It’s alright, thank you. I should have watched where I was going.” he heard the young woman say as he stood back up after picking the items off the sidewalk.

A moment before he handed the bag back to the woman, he caught sight of her. A pale blonde with bangs and two long braided pigtails on either side. She had incredibly bright blue eyes to match. After a moment, he realized he was staring at this woman, she probably thought he was crazy.

“I’m sorry,” Jacob said again, this time handing the bag over, “I thought I recognized you, have we met before?” he asked with an embarrassed chuckle. He saw the woman press her lips into a thin line and pause as if thinking what to say.

“Must have one of those faces,” the woman laughed loudly and slapped the side of his arm. “My name is Alice, Alice White.”

Jacob rubbed his bicep where Alice hurt feigning hurt and gave a warm smile. “Well, it's nice to meet you, Alice, my name’s Jacob Stone.”

Alice muttered something under her breath that Jacob couldn’t quite hear.

“What was that?”

“Oh, uh I asked where you were off to?”

Jacob felt something pulse behind his temple, causing him to shut his eyes tight and wince slightly. “I was making a coffee run,” he stated once he opened his eyes to see Alice furrowing her brows at his display, and he chuckled slightly to diffuse the tension. “This migraine is probably due to the lack of caffeine, hence the coffee run.”

“Right. I could probably do with some coffee myself.” Alice said laughing and then stared while nodding her head slightly.

“Right,” Jacob repeated as he looked past the woman, and when he looked back she was still staring, almost expectantly. “Would you like to join me?” he added hesitantly.

“Sure! Thought you’d never ask! Lead the way El-Jacob!” Alice shouted as she patted him on the back twice before walking in the opposite direction that she came.

Jacob looked at the woman as they began walking together down the sidewalk. He could swear that he’s met Alice before, but he couldn’t place her to save his life. It didn’t help that he would often catch her looking at him from the corner of his eye, and to make matters worse, his migraine was only getting more unbearable. “What have I gotten myself into?” he couldn’t help but wonder as he chuckled slightly to himself.

Chapter Text

Leverage POV

As they made their way to the coffee shop, Parker couldn’t help but glance at Eliot every so often, just to make sure he was really him, just…going by another name. She noticed that he caught her once or twice with her glances, but she didn’t care, not really. After the third time, she just turned her attention straight when he caught her looking at him, just so he wouldn’t get suspicious. Eliot…no Jacob... no Eliot, let out a small chuckle. 

“What’s so funny?” Parker demanded a little too harshly, to which Eliot tilted his head in slight confusion at her sudden anger.

“Nothing. Sorry, it’s just that…I think I know where I’ve seen you before, I can’t believe that I didn’t realize when we bumped into each other.”

“Really?! You do? Oh my gosh, I was getting so worried El-” 

Before Parker could finish her sentence, Eliot accidentally cuts her off. “Yeah! This is the best coffee shop in the city, we must have stood next to each other in line in the past.” When she fully processes what it is he said, Parker’s shoulders slumped slightly.

“Yeah. That must be it.”

The rest of the walk was quick, despite the briefly awkward silence. Once they made it to the shop, Eliot held the door open and motioned for her to enter first. 

“This is weird. It's him, but not at the same time.” Parker said under her breath as she entered the aesthetically lit café. 

> ”Relax Parker,” < She heard Nate say over the comms link. > ”This is just some recon, don’t do anything to blow your cover.” < 

“I’ll try.” Parker added. 

“Try what?” Eliot asked as he stepped into the line next to her. 

“Oh, I think I’ll try that new drink they have here, the uhm…” she paused to look at the menu, “the Affra gahto?”

Eliot raised a brow at her and gave a small laugh as they moved step onto the line. 

“You’re laughing again…it’s creeping me out.” 

Eliot looks at Parker strangely after her comment, and he raises an eyebrow at her. “Sorry.” Eliot takes a moment to clear his throat. “It’s actually called ‘Affogato’. It’s… uh… espresso that is poured over vanilla ice cream.” he explained as they moved up in line, “The drink was invented in Italy in the late 1900s, it kind of makes sense as the Italian word ‘affogato’ translates to the word ‘drowned’ in English….It seems fitting as the drink consists of a scoop of ice cream that is drowned in espresso… hence the name.” 

He finishes his explanation with a confident smile like he’s proud of his knowledge and is happy to share it with her, but when he sees the puzzled look on her face as he does, he averts his eyes elsewhere and clears his throat once more.

Parker, still processing the words Eliot spoke to her. She knows he likes cooking and food, but she never thought he enjoyed the history and story behind it as well, at least he didn’t express it like he is now when he was with the Leverage team. “How…when did you-?“ 

“Next in line, please.” a teenage barista called toward them. 

There was a little awkward scuffle as both Eliot and Parker stepped up to the counter at the same time, with Parker accidentally bumping into him. The two of them looked at each other expectantly, when then Eliot motioned for her to order. 

“You can go first.” She replied. 

“Hello there,” Eliot smiled again when he addressed the barista, recovering from the awkwardness of everything that has been going on the past few moments, “Can I get a small black coffee with two sugars, a regular-sized green tea with honey, a large cold brew with chocolate, caramel drizzle, with an extra shot of espresso, and one regular macchiato espresso, to go please.” 

“Sure, and here’s your total.” The barista replied after jotting the order on the computer. 

Eliot took a moment to check his pants pockets, searching for his wallet. “Sorry, I could have sworn I brought my wallet with me. I guess I left it in the… never mind. I’ll just pay with my phone.” he finishes by pulling his phone out of his back pocket.

“Wait! I’ll get it.” Parker shouts as she takes the phone out of Eliot’s hand and passes the barista some bills. “Could you add an Affogato to that as well please?” 

> ”Nice, now all you gotta do is place his phone on yours and it’ll begin the cloning process.” < Hardison instructs in her ear. 

“No problem,” the barista replied, not thinking anything of this interaction. “and can I get a name for the order?” 

“Alice.” 

“Sure thing, it’ll be right out.” 

“Thank you,” Parker responded as she quickly moved to sit at an empty table, still with Eliot’s phone and hers in hand. 

“What was that about?” Eliot asked, sounding annoyed as he moved to sit across from her and held out his palm. “Also, I’d like my phone back if you’d please.” 

> ”We still need a few minutes on that clone, Parker. Mans got a lot of stuff in here, doesn’t he know to clean out his files?” < 

On the table, Parker placed both phones on top of each other, just in sight but out of reach. Then, with both of her hands, she grabs the open hand of Eliot's, which he used to try to grab the phone. Parker knew that she needed to stall. “So, what does one guy need four coffees for anyways?” 

Eliot looked down at his hand, wrapped in both of hers, it took him a moment to speak. “They’re also for my friends…uh… colleagues actually. We work together.” Eliot answers, clearing his throat as he removes his hand and brings it back to his side, momentarily forgetting his phone. 

“What kind of work do you do, is it … dangerous?” 

Eliot paused, as if not he wasn’t sure how to answer. "It's a bit complicated to explain."

"Try me."

“Alright.” Eliot places his forearms on the table while clasping his hands together, as he leaned in slightly. "I'm a Librarian," he replied in a whispered tone, as a confident smile appeared on his face.

Parker heard three simultaneous > "What?" <'s through her comms. She couldn't help but snicker at the response she just heard from her team. However, as soon as she saw Eliot's smile fade and when he slunk back into his seat, she stopped laughing realizing he thought that she was laughing at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"To be completely honest, I get that a lot," he responded with a slight sigh. "I know I look and sound like any other country hick, but trust me, I'm anything but." 

"I believe you." 

"Really?" Eliot scoffed, "Even if I told you that I have extensive knowledge of ancient and modern history, world cultures, art, and even architecture?"

Before she can respond, a different barista approaches the table with the four drinks in a take-out carrier in one hand and a single cup in another. "Five drinks for Alice?" the girl hands over the drinks as Parker nods in confirmation.

"Yeah, thanks," Parker stated hastily, grabbing the drinks and placing them on the table between them. "You were saying?" she added as she turned her attention back to Eliot. 

"Look…I should go, but thanks again for covering my coffee. Next time we bump into each other here, your order’s on me." Eliot said standing up, grabbing his order and his phone off the table. He makes his way out of the shop. 

"Shit." Parker swears once Eliot exits.

> "Parker, we need like fifteen more seconds on that clone." < Hardison instructs in her ear.

“I know, Hardison. Give me a second.” Parker responds to her commlink as she takes her drink and runs out of the café to catch up to Eliot.

"El- ugh! Jacob, wait!" Parker calls as she catches up with Eliot just outside the shop. She let out a relieved breath as she saw him stop and turn to face her. "I didn't mean to be rude, I just wasn't expecting that answer, you don't seem like the type to sit in a stuffy library all day."

“Becoming a Librarian has been one of the best experiences of my life.” He responds slightly insulted, feeling the need to explain himself to a stranger he just met. “I felt as if I was constantly living my life in a lie, doing what I was doing before.” 

“And what was it?”

“What was what?”

“What was it that you did before becoming a librarian?”

> "Tread carefully, Parker. Don’t upset him." < Parker hears Sophie say calmly in her ear.

Eliot furrows his brows heavily as he places a finger on his temple. Parker watches as Eliot stares at her like he was trying to connect some invisible dots, only to give a slight wince as if he was in pain. “I worked at the family business back in Oklahoma…. I published scholarly works under an alias…afraid of what would happen if people discovered I wrote them. I… I didn’t believe that I could do something meaningful with my life before … before I…” Eliot places his finger on his temple again and begins to rub it slightly. “...before I became a Librarian. I bet you don’t believe a word I’m saying.” Eliot finishes with a slight scoff. 

"Yes, I do believe you.” Parker instantly responds. “I know you to be an incredibly smart man, who is very passionate about the things you enjoy and who gets so happy explaining tiny details of said things to others. I also know that you enjoy helping others… especially those who can’t help themselves. You’re a good guy, one of the best."

>Parker!<  She hears Nate yell in her ear. Parker ignores him.

"How would you know that, Alice? You only just met me." 

"It feels like we've known each other for years."

Eliot takes a long pause, unsure how to respond. As if on cue there was a slight chime that makes Eliot go into his pocket and look at his phone. "Sorry for running off, but I really do need to go."

"Right, of course. I'd love to get together again, and talk about art if you're interested?" 

"You like art?" Eliot asked skeptically.

"Love it, actually. I have a few stolen Monets at home, I can show them to you if you’re interested." 

Eliot laughs, thinking she’s joking. He takes a moment to ponder if he should accept, however, there’s a slight nagging voice in the back of his head telling him to say yes, as if he knows he can trust her.  "Alright, sounds good, I look forward to it."

"Here, give me your phone and I'll add my number to it," Parker states as she quickly takes his phone out of his hand before he could respond and laid it down on hers.

“You gotta stop doing that,” Eliot grunted.

“Shh. It’ll only take a second, no need to be all grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

> "Alright, we're all set. Nice recovery." < Hardison commends her.

“Done!” Parker exclaimed excitedly.

After the clone was complete, Parker actually puts her number in Eliot's phone as well, she is a little disappointed to see that it wasn’t already there, but she tosses it back over to him. Thankfully he could catch it despite his one hand being occupied with four coffees in a to-go container. 

"I sent myself a text, so I had your number too," Parker added.  

"Great. I'll talk to you later. It… was actually nice to meet you. Goodbye, Alice." Eliot nodded with a smile and turned back around to walk away.

"See ya later… Eliot." She replied once he was out of earshot.

>"Alright, Parker. Time to head back."< stated Nate, calmly through the comm link.

"I could tail him."

> "No, Parker. Something’s up. We need to look at this from a new angle. Take a look at all the new cards we're playing with." <

"Nate," She said with a huff, "It seemed like he almost recognized me."

> "Almost. Which unfortunately isn't good enough. Now, come back." <

"Fine."

~*~

Librarians POV

Jacob’s coffee run took longer than he expected. Sure, he was talking to a cute blonde who seemed to like the niche things he enjoyed and he wanted to continue the conversation. However, when he got a text from Ezekiel Jones, stating that a new article appeared in the clippings book, he knew he had to get back to the Library’s Annex as soon as possible. As he made his way back, his mind kept pulling back to the woman he just met, Alice. For some reason, he just couldn’t believe that she was being entirely truthful, but what she was lying about he wasn’t entirely sure. Just thinking about her made a small ache form behind his skull. It took Jacob about a five-minute brisk walk to make it back to the Annex. He just hoped that Colonel Baird’s coffee was still hot, Jacob didn’t want to give her a reason to flip him over her shoulder at their next training session.

“I’m back,” Jacob stated once he entered the main room of the Annex, passing the coffees and tea to their respective drinkers. “Sorry it took a long time, I ran into someone.”

“No worries, thanks Stone,” Eve replied once Jacob handed her her coffee. 

“Oh ho ho!” Ezekiel laughed as Jacob handed him his coffee, “I get stuck here reading dusty books, and Jakey over there gets to show up late and doesn’t even get a slap on the wrist?! I am doing the next coffee run!”

“Yeah, not gonna happen, Jones.” Eve scoffed.

“You ran into someone?” Cassandra questioned.

“Yeah, actually,” Jacob replied, passing Cassandra her drink. “I accidentally bumped into this woman, and she dropped her bag. I helped pick her things up and we went to the coffee shop together. She actually paid for our coffee, since I couldn’t find my wallet. Speaking of, did you steal my wallet, Jones?”

“So you swindle a lady into buying four coffees and you think I’m the thief? Priceless.” Ezekiel scoffed as he took a long sip of his frozen sugar drink.

“Wait, Jacob,” Cassandra said as she placed a hand on his arm, as he started to walk towards the other side of the room, “You don’t usually misplace things, especially not something like your wallet. Do you think this woman could have taken it, or even know that you’re a Librarian?” she finished in a concerned voice. “What if she’s with The Serpent Brotherhood?”

“Cassie, I really don’t think Alice would be part of The Serpent Brotherhood,” Jacob reassures.

“Oooh! Alice? Did I hear that right?” Ezekiel bounds up to Jacob and drapes his arm around Jacob’s shoulder.

“What are you… Why are you touching me?” Jacob asks in a seemingly fake agitated manner.

“Next you’re gonna say you got her number right?” Ezekiel says unable to control a fit of laughter. He takes a look at Jacob’s face and can tell that Jacob seems a bit bashful. “You did, didn’t you! Oh Jake, you ladies man you!”

“What?” Cassandra asks shocked

“She’s actually the one who wanted my number.” 

“Oh wow man, I gotta give you props. I guess you do have some game after all.” Ezekiel states as he pats Jacob on the back before heading over to the clippings book.

Cassandra looks at Jacob with a troubled and hurt look on her face. “You gave a stranger your number?” 

“Cassie,” Jacob pauses. “Listen. I know this is going to sound…insane, but I feel like I can trust her, I just have this… this gut feeling, I can’t explain it. I don’t think she wants to hurt us or the Library. Plus, she is the one that put her number in my phone in the first place, I didn’t know she would text herself from it.” Jacob finishes with an apologetic and sincere smile.

Cassandra paused, not knowing how to respond. “I just don’t understand how you could be so reckless in this situation. It isn’t like you Jacob.”

“Reckless?” Jacob asks, offended. “Listen, I’m not the one who-”

“Stone, Cassandra, enough.” Eve commanded sternly. “There’s a new clipping in the book.”

Jacob sighed, not wanting to finish his thought, and definitely not wanting to get in an argument that he could feel brewing. “Right.” he simply said as he walked away to stand next to Colonel Baird next to the book. 

Cassandra moved over to stand next to Ezekiel and put her focus towards the clippings book.

Once all of the Librarians (in training) were gathered around, Eve spoke in a matter of fact way. “Alright listen, there is an article in the book dated a few weeks from today. It says that the lost journal of Christopher Marlowe was discovered by some art and antiquities trader who is holding a private viewing and auction for the journal.”

After the brief synopsis, Ezekiel scoffed, unimpressed. “Christopher Marlowe? Isn't he that Shakespeare wannabe?” 

“That Shakespeare wannabe? Really Jones? Do you have any idea who Marlowe was?” Jacob asked.

“Yeah he was that poet or whatever that got jealous of Shakespeare when he got more fame than him.”

“What?! No. Jones, Marlowe was-”

“Enough, both of you. You’ve been arguing with each other for the past few days, it's getting old.” Eve chastised. 

“Sorry.'' Ezekiel and Jacob apologized at the same time.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Eve sighed. “The book clearly wants us to recover this lost journal and bring it back to the library.”

“Easy peasy.” 

“Not so fast, Jones. The journal will be part of a private viewing followed by an auction. The person hosting this is someone named… John Douglas Keller, he’s a rich antiquities dealer who somehow came into possession of the journal, and wishes to sell it to the highest bidder.” Eve explains.

As Eve says the name of the dealer of the journal, Jacob feels a pounding sensation behind his forehead. He places his hand to press into his temples and looks down at the ground, causing Cassandra and Ezekiel to look over at him with confused expressions. “Why…does that name sound familiar?” Jacob grunts.

“Man’s a notorious smuggler.” Ezekiel explains, “He was actually arrested a few years ago when he was caught smuggling stolen 17th century Russian Icons. He’s known to use children to smuggle items into other countries for him. To be perfectly honest, I’m surprised he is even out! Last I heard he lost all his money and was spending his days locked up in Rome.”

“So this is someone we’ll have to be careful around. From what Ezekiel is saying, then he must have some friends in pretty high places and can be dangerous. So I’ll call some contacts and see who might be in this auction and maybe they can get us on the list.” Eve strategies. 

“Even if we do get into this auction, what are we going to do if we don’t win the bid? I’m not telling you how much money I have stored away, but I don’t plan on using it to buy a four hundred year old journal.” 

Eve smiles at Ezekiel. “Who said anything about bidding? Besides, this guy should still be in jail, he doesn’t deserve a cent.”

“Yes! Oh you just made me into the happiest thiefy Librarian in the world!” Jones shouted as he practically skipped over to Colonel Baird to give her a hug. All Eve had to do was give him a look for him to stop hugging her. “My bad.” he said with a huge smile still.

Across the room Cassandra stepped next to Jacob, with his hand still on his temples. “You okay?”

“Yeah…yeah I just have this migraine. It keeps coming back.”

“You’ve been getting them a lot since we’ve been in Portland.” Cassandra points out gently as he places a hand on his bicep.

Jacob, finally dropping his hand from his head, looks up at her with kind eyes. “I know,” he says with a sigh. “It’s probably nothing, I’ll be fine.”

“And why don’t I believe that?”

“Because you know me.” Jacob chuckles, which causes Cassandra to crack a smile despite her worry.

“At least let me give you something for your headache. I have something in my bag.”

“If you insist.” Jacob said, smiling at her.

Cassandra couldn’t help but to smile back at Jacob. Despite the few rough patches they may have had, she knows that she and Jacob have grown close over the past few months. “Of course I do. Now come on.” With her hand still on his arm, Cassandra guided him towards her bag.

Chapter Text

Leverage POV

Parker walked briskly into the conference room where the rest of her team, albeit minus one member, was and threw a men's tri-fold wallet onto the table. Following the act, she pulled out a chair from the table and sat down with an audible huff.

“Parker, I know this is difficult, but it was the right thing to do, not to reveal who you are to him just yet.” consoled Sophie as she sat in the seat next to her.

“I just don’t like lying to him. It feels like we’re conning him, and we don’t con our friends.”

“Well…” Nate started, but as soon as he saw the annoyed look on Sophie’s face, he cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink. He then moved his attention to Hardison who was tapping away on his keyboard.

Sophie in return sighed softly and focused her attention back to Parker. “Listen, we’re just taking precautions, so we know we aren’t hurting him in any way. Head trauma related injuries is something we shouldn’t take the risk with.”

Parker let out a resigned sigh. “You’re right…but it doesn’t feel right.”

There was a reserved silence that fell over the individuals within Leverage Headquarters. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of Hardison typing on his keyboard, setting up some sort of program, and the sound of ice within Nate’s drink, clinking with every sip. After a few minutes of somber and silent thoughts from the Leverage team, Hardison’s computer beeped. 

“About time.” Hardison said to himself out loud.

“Whatcha got?” Nate asked, effectively changing the topic of focus.

“So, it took some time getting information on these new colleagues of Eliot’s, but after I got their names, and confirmation from his contact list, I have a profile for each of them.” He said with a self-satisfactory grin.

“Alright, let’s see it.”

“With pleasure.” Hardison replied as he took control of the big display from his laptop, which he can control from his seat next to Nate. With a click of a button, three pictures appeared on screen. One blonde woman, a younger red-headed woman, and a young male, popped up on the large monitor display.

Hardison got up from his seat and walked towards the side of the monitor that displayed the blonde woman. “Alright, so I’m sure you all remember her, the one that saved Eliot from that crazy ninja lady back in Oklahoma. Well, her name is Colonel Eve Baird, she-”

“Colonel? As in, military?” Sophie asked, surprised.

“I would say so,” Hardison explains, “Colonel Baird was part of NATO, more specifically, the Anti-Terrorist group. She’s been on a few tours during her service, but a few months ago, she quit her job unexpectedly.”

“Few months ago?” asked Parker. “So… around the time of that video from the bar fight?”

“Just a few days afterwards actually.”

“Now, why would a Colonel at NATO quit her, I’m assuming, high paying job, to work alongside someone who’s to be a librarian?” Nate asks out loud to himself and the others. “What about the other two?”

“Here’s where things get a little funky.” Hardison says as he moves towards the middle of the monitor, towards the picture of the red head. “Her name is Cassandra Cillian. She used to work as a janitor at the Saint Francis Episcopal Hospital in New York City.”

“Used to work as a Janitor?” repeated Sophie in question.

“Yeah, she quit around the same time as Baird.” answered Hardison.

“Interesting.” Nate stated as he began to lean his chin in his hand, as if trying to solve an invisible puzzle. “And this last guy?”

“Well this last one, is more of what I was expecting when we found Eliot working with a new crew.” Hardison admits as he moves over the picture of the young man. “His name is Ezekiel Jones he-”

“That’s Ezekiel Jones?!” Parker exclaims as she jumps out of her seat.

“You know him?” Nate asks nonchalantly.

“Just once, I would like to get through a briefing without being interrupted.” Hardison says feigning hurt as he sits back down near his computer and checks his program.

“More like, know of him We never met face to face, but we know each other by reputation. He’s a thief, much like myself, but I’m much better, of course.” Parker boasts, while ignoring Hardison’s comment. “Last I heard about him, he was working a job in Geneva that fell through…” Parker pauses for a moment, her tone more serious now. “...but that was a few months ago… about the same time as Eliot’s attack and when Baird and Cillian quit their jobs.”

“Do you think he would recognize you at all?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay.” Nate begins after finishing off the rest of his drink. “So if we put Eliot’s picture up with the others, what do these four have in common? They were complete strangers, in completely different fields of work. What brought them together?”

“Well,” Parker interjects, “Eliot did say he was a librarian now. Maybe they all are?”

“It makes no sense.” Sophie adds, “An anti-terrisom government official, a janitor, a thief, and a hitter who lost his memory? No, no, no. There’s something bigger going on, I can feel it.”

“If you think of it, we were all somewhat strangers when we met each other. All it took was someone trying to kill us to get us to form an actual team, a damn good team, might I add.” Hardison suggests with a slight shrug.

“You think they’re being targeted, Hardison?” Nate asks.

“Listen, all I know is that something ain’t adding up. I mean, do you really think Eliot would run off with another team if there isn’t something much bigger going on? I mean, we literally saw a ninja… in Oklahoma, trying to filet him with a katana.”

“Good point.”

“You know, the more we learn about Jacob Stone, it just makes Eliot Spencer… make more sense, don’t you think?” Sophie interjects.

“What do you mean?” Parker asks as she leans back in her chair and plops her feet onto the conference table.

Sophie pauses at Parker’s display questioningly before brushing it off and continuing her thought. “Well, do you remember all the times we’d be discussing a plan and he would either tell us a fact or some solution to a problem that made us all stop and wonder how he knew that information?”

“Just like the time he knew about how we could fake a brain tumor on an MRI… he said he knew that because he dated a neurologist.”

“Exactly, Parker. What if he didn’t? I mean he probably saw how we reacted each time he said something we didn’t believe he could know, and then came up with an excuse as to why he would know that.”

“He didn’t seem to act that way when I was at the coffee shop with him. Why would he do that, when he was with us?”

“Habit, maybe? I mean… Eliot Spencer is a persona he created, whether we like it or not. He never really spoke about what it is he did before becoming who he was when he was with us. It’s possible he just wanted to appear like the muscle he is… maybe he thought that if people knew how smart he truly was, they’d look at him differently. Treat him differently.” Sophie sighs and rubs her forehead for a brief moment. “He… probably saw how we reacted and decided it was best if he lied to us… to protect himself.”

There was a moment of silence, even Hardison’s tapping stopped briefly as the team absorbed Sophie’s statement. Despite the amount of time the Leverage team had spent with Eliot, there was a lot of his past they had no idea about.

Nate scoffs. “Seems kind of arrogant, don’t you think? To think you’re so smart you need to keep that a secret. I mean come on.”

Hardison clicks on another button on his computer, and a picture of Eliot appears on screen in front of the other three, in addition to slowly moving pictures of documents floating around the main picture. “You know, I didn’t just look into who he’s working with. I also dug up some information about this Jacob Stone. I felt… dirty just even prying through, since Eliot is one of us… plus I knew he’d kick my ass if he found out, but…” Hardison states with a reserved sigh.

“But…?”

“But… Eliot isn’t just smart… he’s like genius level smart.”

“What are you talking about?” Nate asks impatiently.

“Well, the man’s got an IQ of over 190.”

“What? But that’s…” Sophie trails off shocked.

“Insane? Higher than Einstein’s? I know.” Hardison continues, “but that ain’t all. Eliot even has several Ph.D's and honorary degrees from universities across the world.”

“Parker,” Nate interrupts. “When you spoke to Eliot, how did he seem?”

“Like I said, for a moment he seemed to recognize me, but then he didn’t. He kept… rubbing his head like he was in pain. He seemed… happier, in a way. I’ve never seen him smile so much before, it was a little creepy.”

“Well it makes sense.” Nate replies, standing up and moving towards the other side of the conference table, facing the monitors on the wall. “I mean, he doesn’t remember his time with us, not fully anyway. So he must not remember some or all the things he did before he was with us. He’s mentioned he has a dark… really dark past, maybe… just maybe not remembering it is good for him. He can move on from that life and this.”

“Nate! You surely can’t mean that, can you?” Sophie asked, shocked.

“Eliot is family, we do not leave family.” Parker adds, with shock, anger, and sadness all tinged in her voice.

“The man was attacked by ninjas, Nate. Ninjas. ” Hardison adds.

“All I’m saying is-” before Nate can finish his sentence, Hardison’s computer beeps which causes the other three to stop in their conversation.

Hardison’s face hardens as he looks towards his computer screen. “Eliot just turned his phone back on.”

“He turned it off?” Nate asks genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, he must have once he left his coffee run with Parker.” Hardison pauses as he watches his computer. “He’s currently searching something up… he’s searching… oh no. Well this ain’t good.”

“What? What is it?” Nate asked without turning his attention away from Sophie and Parker.

“See for yourselves.” Hardison pulls up what he’s seeing on his computer, onto the large display.

The Leverage team can see the mirrored image of what is on Eliot’s phone. Eliot is currently on the internet browser of his phone, typing in a very familiar name to the rest of the team: John Douglas Keller. 

“Is he looking up…” Sophie starts.

“Yup,” Nate answers. “He’s looking up his old boss’ right hand. Hardison, can you activate the microphone in the phone?”

“On it.” 

With a few taps on his keyboard, Hardison activates the microphone in Eliot’s phone, allowing the team to listen in. Nate continues to lean slightly backwards on the conference table, his eyes remaining on the large display. It takes a few long moments before they hear Eliot’s voice.

“So, just looking this Keller guy up, damn… he definitely seems like bad news.” 

“I know,” says a stern voice, most likely the Colonel’s, “but the clippings book wants us to get Marlowe’s journal back. We need to make sure we do, let’s just hope the Brotherhood doesn’t have their eyes on this as well.”

“Brotherhood?” Nate asks out loud as he and his team continue to listen in.

“This doesn’t seem like the usual artifact that the clipping’s book has sent us to get. Are we sure this is right?”

“It’s worth looking into, Stone. We shouldn’t take the chance.”

“Right.”

“All eyes will be on this dusty old book during the showcase as well as auction. The best time to snag it will most likely be when they are moving it, either before the auction or during, when they change to another item.” says a confident younger masculine voice.

“Jones, let's just get an idea of what we are dealing with here. When it comes with dealing with dangerous criminals, I’m the only one out of us that has experience.” The Colonel replies.

“Well I find that quite rude. I’ll have you know, I’ve been in a scrap or two when I was on my own.”

“Ezekiel,” a more timid and reserved voice says, most likely Cassandra. “ I think Eve means criminals that have hurt or even killed people. We don’t want to risk dealing with someone like that.”

“Yeah, guys like these…” Eliot says with some reserve and tension in his voice. “Guys like these don’t like to be messed with. They might not have the same tools as The Serpent Brotherhood, but they’re still dangerous.”

“And how would you know, mister smarty-pants?” Ezekiel says with a slight scoff.

“Just a feeling I have.”

There is a brief almost silence that comes from Eliot’s phone microphone. All that the Leverage team can hear is the rustling of papers and a loud thud in the distance. The team can see on Eliot’s phone screen that he is looking through some information on Keller. Since he’s using a regular internet search, it would take him a little white to find anything useful.

“Alright, things are getting more complicated.” Nate states as he mutes the audio coming through the large display. “Who’s this brotherhood they were talking about?”

“I’m not sure,” Hardison responds. “I’ve been looking into it since they said the name, but nothing comes up. However, I did find out where a particular journal that was owned by an Elizabethan poet by the name of Christopher Marlowe is. You think that’s the journal they’re talking about?” 

“Worth a shot.” Nate says then claps his hands together. “Alright, new plan. Here’s what we’re going to do. Hardison, I need you to send the location of where that book is to Eliot’s phone, but don’t make it obvious that he didn’t find it himself. We don’t want him for whatever reason to discard that phone.”

“Way ahead of you, man. Sending it over now.”

“Good. Parker, since he already knows you… well Alice… I need you to get close to him again, establish trust, maybe he can tell you more about what this ‘brotherhood’ thing is. And keep an eye on him, in case he gets close to Keller.”

“How am I supposed to get close to him? I can’t just show up out of nowhere again, he’ll suspect something's up.”

“I…uh…” Nate stutters as he looks around frantically, typically as he does when he is forming a complicated yet thought out plan. He spots the wallet that Parker threw onto the conference table when she first came in. When he picks the wallet up and opens one of its folds, he sees an Oklahoma Driver’s license, belonging to none other than one Jacob Stone. Nate tosses the wallet to Parker, which she easily catches. “Return his wallet.” 

Parker nods, begrudgingly at returning the wallet, but understands it has to happen to get close to Eliot again. With Hardison tapping away on his keyboard, it leaves Sophie and Nate looking at the blown up portraits of these ‘librarians’. Sophie stands from her seat and walks so she is beside Nate.

“Do you really think that it would be best for him to forget his past… to forget us, entirely?” She asked softly so only Nate would hear. “You saw that footage of the bar fight. Someone was clearly trying to kill him.”

Nate in turn sighs. “You’re right, but that might not be up to us. Who knows if he’ll end up remembering us again or not. All I know is if he comes face to face with Keller again… well Keller for damn sure will remember him.”

~*~

Librarians POV

Everyone around him was either looking through books or rifling through papers, while all Jacob did was look at the information that popped up on John Douglas Keller from his internet search. There wasn’t a lot of information that popped up, but what did wasn’t too helpful in finding Marlowe’s journal. With a heavy sigh, he put his phone down on the desk he primarily uses. Just as he was beginning to walk away from it, to help the others in the search, he heard his phone ping. 

“That’s odd.” he thought to himself. “I thought I had this on silent.” Jacob moved back to his phone and picked it up. He widened his eyes in response to what he was reading, how did he miss this before? “Hey, I think I got something.” he says aloud to the others, his eyes never leaving his phone.

Cassandra was by his side in an instant, trying not to look over his shoulder. “Did you find where the book is?”

“Actually, yeah. I think so. There is a blog post authored by Frank Brunner, indicating his participation in an upcoming event hosted by the Portland Art Dealer's Association. ‘The event will feature a curated collection contributed by various individuals, encompassing both historical literature and art’ ." Jacob reads off the blog post. “Here’s the address, and it’s not too far from here.”

“You think the book will be there?” 

“It’s a lead,” Eve interjects. “Might as well check it out.”

“All of us?” Ezekiel asks, as his voice raises slightly with excitement.

“Yeah, Jones. All of us.”

“Yes! Field trip, finally! Let’s go!” Ezekiel exclaims as he drops the book he was holding, causing another loud thud to echo within the Annex. “Oops.”

The Librarians (in training) and their guardian began to make their way out of the Annex to head to the location that Jacob had found on his phone. Jacob rolled his eyes at Ezekiel’s enthusiasm, but he couldn’t help as a slight amused smile creeped on his face. He wasn’t going to admit this, but the past few months had honestly been the best, and most fun that he’s ever had… well that he could remember anyways. There was still a lot locked away in his head that he didn’t have the key to, but maybe one day he’ll get access to it… whatever it is. Out of Jacob’s peripheral, he noticed Cassandra looking at him catching him smile.

“What?” he asked, still smiling. “Something on my face?”

“No. It’s just… are you feeling better?” she asked, with a kind smile of her own.

“Yeah, actually,” he replied, “Thanks for the Advil.”

“Don’t mention it, I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Cassandra responds as she hesitantly places a hand on his shoulder, pats softly, then pulls her hand away just as quickly. “You know, ever since we got here, you haven’t really been yourself. Is everything okay?”

Jacob’s pace slowed down, causing Cassandra to respond similarly. The two were now a few paces behind the Colonel and Jones. “Yeah, I mean. I'm not sure.”

“What do you mean, Jacob?” Cassandra asked, concern clear in her voice.

“C-can I be honest with you for a moment, Cassie?”

“Of course.”

“I… I don’t know if I’ve been in Portland before. I mean I don’t remember if I have, but there’s just something so familiar about this place, and it’s just been hard to shake.”

“You don’t remember?”

Jacob cleared this throat slightly, he felt nervous. He was worried that if he told his team about his accident… that they might think of him as a liability. Cassandra on the other hand, he knew he could trust her, she was kind and sweet and… “Cassie, before I became a Librarian, I was helping my dad back in Oklahoma… and I had an accident.” 

“An accident?!” She asked shocked, but then lowered her voice so that she didn’t draw attention to what she and Jacob were speaking about. “What happened?”

“I was helping on the rig, showing this greenhorn the ropes. We were working on some loose pipes, and next thing I know I got hit on the head… hard . So hard, it knocked me on my ass and I was out cold.” Jacob begins to explain. He clears his throat once more. He’s not used to feeling vulnerable, always hated the feeling. 

Cassandra places her hand back on his arm, a silent show of support. 

“Next thing I know, I was in the hospital. I didn’t know where I was or how I got there, but my dad was there with a doctor. They asked me a lot of questions like who I was, what year it was, if I knew why I was in the hospital…” Jacob sighs and runs his hand through his short hair, as if it was longer, touching the scar on the side of his temple. “I answered a few of their questions… wrong. After everything, they told me that the accident caused some… well a lot of holes in my memory. Apparently that wasn’t the first time I got hit on the head.” He finishes with a low chuckle.

The two of them were quiet for a moment as the group walked out of the Annex entrance and began their way to their destination. Ezekiel and the Colonel were discussing different methods of stealing the journal. Cassandra turned her attention back to Jacob after she was able to fully absorb the confession he told her.

“Thank you for telling me Jacob.” she pauses, “You know, with my grape, and your holes, we make an interesting pair.” she laughs, attempting to diffuse the slight tension between them.

Jacob in turn laughs as well and places an arm around her shoulder to give her a slight one-handed and sideways hug. The moment was brief, and he pulled his arm back to his side. “You know what? You’re right, we do.” 

“You know, I’d be more than happy to help, any way I can. I mean you’ve done so much for me these past few months.”

“I appreciate that, Cassie. Thanks.” Jacob’s smile lingered as he looked at Cassandra. He’s glad he told her. “But, I don’t know how you could help.”

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice, you tend to rub your head a lot. I’m assuming because of these migraines you’ve been getting?”

“Yeah?”

“What I’m getting at is, that after the migraine, sometimes you seem… out of it in a way. Like you were someplace else.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Jacob asked, genuinely surprised by Cassandra’s observation.

“Sometimes, not all the time though.” Cassandra pauses as she takes a moment to think. “Hmm.. How about this, we help each other out when our brains get too overwhelming?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, whenever my brain grape gets too much and information comes out a hundred miles a minute, you’ve always been there to help me focus. You guide me out of it a lot easier than I could do on my own. Why don’t I do that for you?”

“I appreciate it, Cassie. I really do, but I don’t get overwhelmed.” 

Cassandra looks at Jacob with a concerned expression. “Jacob, you’ve been having consistent migraines, that is only getting progressively worse.”

“Yeah, but-”

“And, each time you do… each time it passes, depending on the severity of the migraine. Which I can only assume is your brain trying to reconnect dots, you come out of it almost in a daze like you’re a newborn baby deer.”

Jacob can’t help but laugh. “A newborn baby deer? Cassie, come on.”

“Jacob, I am not asking. You’re my friend, and you’ve helped me when I needed it most, it's the least I can do for you.” Cassie lightly bumps into Jacob in a joking matter, which causes the two of them to share a smile. “Do you think you’ll be able to fill the gaps in your memory?”

“I dunno. I really couldn’t tell you if I’m being honest.”

“Well, I hope you do.”

“Yeah… me too.”

Jacob and Cassandra’s conversation came to a silent and subtle stop as they caught up to Eve and Ezekiel. Eve was looking at them, slightly annoyed that they fell behind, and Ezekiel had a grin plastered on his face.

“Stone. Cassandra.” Eve said with her signature stern voice. “Were you listening? You know what you two need to do when we get to the auction house, right?”

Jacob froze, internally cursing himself for not listening to the plan, but he didn’t regret telling Cassandra what he did. “No. Sorry, we were just-”

“Flirting?” asked Ezekiel cheekily.

“We weren’t flirting.” Jacob and Cassandra defensively stated at the same time.

“I don’t care.” responded Eve in a matter of fact way. “We’re almost there so listen up because I am not going over it again.”

From there, it did not take too long for the Librarians and their Guardian to head to the location that Jacob found, which might contain Christopher Marlowe’s journal. As they began walking up the entrance steps, Jacob’s phone pinged once more. He sighed and pulled the phone out of his pocket, just to place it on silent, not bothering to check the notification.

“Turns out that for this particular viewing and auction, the Portland Art Dealer’s Association has partnered with this small museum.” Eve stated after leafing through a brochure that she procured from a leaflet display just inside the entrance of the building. “Seems convenient.”

“Well, even if the journal isn’t here, it would be nice to look at the other items on display, maybe look at some of the artwork.” Cassandra suggests cheerfully.

“Yeah, maybe I can scope out some other things to snag.” Ezekiel says as he walks forward about to leave the group, to which Eve pulls him back by his shoulder.

“Not so fast.” Eve says with an annoyed sigh. “We’re just here for recon, specifically for the journal. Don’t get into trouble.”

“Me? Trouble? You wound me.” Ezekiel retorts dramatically.

“Enough, Jones.” Colonel Baird looks towards the others in the group after successfully reining in Jones. She speaks in a lower tone, just in case anyone is close enough to listen in. “Listen. We don’t know exactly how dangerous this Keller guy is, but as your Guardian it’s my job to protect you three, that includes from our not regular and ordinary threats. We are here just to take a look around, collect intel. Okay? So stay close.”

The three trainee Librarians nodded in understanding and began to spread out to get the lay of the land, each heading off in a separate direction. 

As Jacob began to walk around the gallery, he glanced at some of the pieces on display, not really paying them much mind, they were on a mission. Locate Christopher Marlowe’s journal, and make sure the Library gets it before The Serpent Brotherhood does. He’s not sure if this journal is something that the Brotherhood would want, but they can’t take too many chances. With Flynn Carson currently doing whatever he does when he runs off, it's up to them to retrieve and secure what the clippings book shows them. They’re sort of like…. Retrieval Specialists. 

Without warning, Jacob gets hit with a throbbing headache. It causes him to place his forehead in his palm, in an attempt to subdue the pain and hope it passes quickly. And thankfully, it does. Once the pain is just a small throb, Jacob begins walking around once more taking in the various items on display. That is until his eyes catch a breathtaking oil on canvas painting. He couldn't help but stop to admire the work. There is something familiar about this painting… sure he’s seen it before but… wait… something’s off.

“You seem to like this one, why’s that?” said a sudden voice behind him, causing him to jump slightly and turn to see who startled him.

“Alice?!” Jacob exclaimed, causing him to get a few looks from other gallery viewers nearby. He lowered his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you talking about? I thought you were here because I texted you. Didn’t you get my messages?”

“Messages?” Jacob fished out his phone from his pocket and checked the missed notifications he had.

                Alice White: ‘Hey Jacob! Found your wallet! You must have put it in my bag by mistake.’

                Alice White: ‘We should meet up so I can return it. I’ll be at this open gallery later today if            
                                   you’re interested.’

               Alice White: ‘I’ll send you the address! Let me know if you’ll be there.’

              Alice White: <Map location sent.>

Jacob looks over the missed text messages he received and sighs slightly, he puts his phone back in his pocket and looks back towards Alice. “I guess you did. Sorry.”

“It’s alright, pretty lucky that we ran into each other.”

“Yeah… lucky.” Jacob furrowed his brows slightly and curiously. “Alice. What exactly are you doing here?”

Alice pauses a moment as she looks over the expression on Jacob’s face, hers becoming neutral until she smiles slightly before responding. “Well, I can ask the same for you. So tell me, why do you like this painting in particular?” she says with a seemingly knowing expression and slight smirking smile.

“Well it’s obvious that this painting is that of a Monet. I remember you joking about having a stolen one.” Jacob smirked, lightheartedly. 

Alice lets out a belting laugh that shocked Jacob slightly, but what really struck him is that he felt that that laugh suited her. “So, you like this painting because it’s a Monet… or does it remind you of something?”

Jacob takes a look at the painting, examining it in detail. “ Water Lilies. Oil on canvas by Claude Monet, painted in approximately 1906. Monet painted this during a time in his life where…” 

There was a brief flash in his head. Blurry images in the dark. Two pairs of hands moving this painting of the wall… and placing a replica back in its place. Jacob shook his head, dislodging the weird thought, he looked over at Alice who was looking at him intensely. He moved his eyes back into the painting and noticed something interesting . He cleared his throat before continuing.

“He… painted the original during a time in his life where he became less and less concerned with conventional pictorial space.” Jacob finished.

“The original?” Alice asks, practically looking like she was bouncing with excitement.

“Yeah.” Jacob replies simply, he can tell Alice is getting really excited by his explanation; it made him feel… good. He couldn’t help but smile. “Do you want to know how I know that this painting isn’t the original painted by Monet?”

“Obviously.” Alice insisted, she looked eager. As if she knows that this painting was a fake from the start.

“Well…” he paused, taking a breath. He then pointed over at a particular paint on the canvas, then looked over at Alice, her facial expression changed slightly, she doesn’t look as excited as she once did. He feels… anxious… why? Jacob clears his throat. “Well, this painting was originally painted around 1906. However, this pigment of color right here, the standard of oil paints made by refined linseed oil, that Monet used for his paintings are more of a smooth, buttery paste, not stringy or long or tacky, which this painting’s strokes give off.”

Alice doesn’t say anything for a moment, but Jacob can see that she is slightly nodding her head. “Wow. Impressive. I had no idea… you can tell a painting was fake just by the type of paint an artist used.”

“Let’s just say… Claude Monet had a very distinctive style when it came to his paintings.”

Alice smiled softly at his comment, looking fondly at him. “So what are you doing here, Jacob? If it’s not because you saw my messages.”

Jacob feels his head start to pound in his skull. He wills himself not to rub his temple, causing him to wince slightly. “I… um… here for work…”

“Oh? Is the library you work for interested in purchasing a book for its collection?” Alice says with a slight tilt of her head. 

“You can say that.” Jacob says curtly. He can’t help but shake the feeling that something’s up. The way Alice is acting is slightly different from how she was at the coffee shop. “Why do you ask?”

“All part of the job. My boss is rather interested in some of the items that will be put up for auction in the next two weeks. We’re just here to…see what might look nice in his collection. He has a variety of pieces if you or your library might be interested in?”

“‘We’re’?” Jacob asks curiously. “You mean your boss is here right now?”

Alice nods, “He’s over there.” Alice points over Jacob’s shoulder to draw his attention towards a man standing across the room from them. 

The man with wild hair and thick framed glasses is standing near an interesting modern art sculpture ‘One of Jeff Koons’ works, no doubt’ Jacob thinks to himself. However, turning his attention back to the man Alice pointed out, he can tell that this man definitely looks a bit eccentric, he’s speaking to a woman while gesturing very animatedly with his hands. 

“I can introduce you to him, especially if you are looking to purchase something for your library. I’m sure Mr. Baker would be happy to show you a few books in his personal collection as well.” Alice says as Jacob’s attention remains on the man across the room.

The man notices Jacob’s stare and waves over towards him and Alice. Jacob can see out of his peripheral vision that Alice waves this Mr. Baker over, and with an overly happy smile he begins to walk over to them. As this Mr. Baker gets closer to him, Jacob can feel a throbbing in his skull as a quick flash of an image fills his head. The image is uncanny, as if this image is what is happening around him. He sees a different version of this Mr. Baker is standing in front of him, wearing dark clothes, no glasses, and his hair is somewhat combed. The image version of him is holding two drinks of what looks like whiskey, he holds one of the glasses forward towards him and…

“Mr. Baker,” Alice says, greeting her boss, which pulls Jacob out of the weird vision, the eccentric looking Mr. Baker comes back into focus as he stands in front of him.

“Please, call me Tom.” the man states as he holds out his hand for Jacob to shake.

It takes a moment for Jacob to collect himself. He swallows, despite his throat feeling extremely dry. “Jac-” he clears his throat when he hears how scratchy it first comes out as. “Jacob Stone. Pleasure to meet you.” He manages as he shakes the other man’s hand.

“Ah so if you’re talking to Alice, here. That means you have a particular piece in mind that you want to get your hands on, so what will it be? What type of market are you in? Paintings, sculptures, …books?” Tom says, leaning closer to Jacob.

For some reason that Jacob can’t explain, he feels a bit shell shocked. “I… I’m a Librarian.” he says simply.

“Ah so books it is. Well, I uh… can definitely see what I can do. Any uh… books in particular?”

Jacob couldn’t think clearly, he felt the constant throbbing within his skull and the random flashes of a different version of this Tom Baker person. 

“Do… I know him?” Jacob thought to himself. He saw as Alice and Tom were looking at him expectantly, their faces turning into somewhat of concern. “Why are they looking at me like that? Did I do something? Why can’t I say anything?” 

Jacob can feel his breathing getting a little shallow, his heart racing slightly. That combined with the pounding of his head, he figured he’d pass out in a few moments. Until he felt a familiar and firm hand grip his shoulder and pull him back slightly.

“Hi there. My name is Colonel Baird, and who might you be?” Eve said with clear authority. Jacob couldn’t help but let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, causing Eve to give him a quick Guardian-esc once over. “Jacob. Why don’t you find the others? They might need your help with something, okay?”

Jacob nodded slightly. “Yeah. I’ll… I’ll go do that.” he then turns to look at Alice, unknowingly unable to meet her eyes fully. “Sorry, for running off. It was nice seeing you again.”

“Wait.” Alice said, stepping forward towards Jacob, causing Eve to step in between them. “Your wallet.”

Jacob turned around and looked at Alice, her eyes almost pleading him to stay. He watched as Alice pulled out his wallet from her back and handed it to him, holding his hand as she did. Jacob studied her face for a moment and the image of the painting that was being carried by two pairs of hands came back into his vision. However, this time he saw Alice, on the other side of the painting as it was being carried away. Jacob’s current surroundings suddenly came flooding back in as he pulled his hand, and his wallet, back to his side and took a slight step back. Alice’s eyes widened as he took a step away from her. His eyes flickered towards Tom Baker’s.

“Stone.” Eve stated with caution as she can see the visible confusion and slight panic on his face. She placed her hand on his shoulder when he didn’t answer. It seemed to ground him before. Thankfully it seemed to work as he made eye contact with her. “Stone.” she repeated, “Go find the others. I’ll be right there. That’s an order.”

“R-right.” Jacob stammered slightly, he took another step back, then turned around to walk away. He felt the eyes on the back of his head as he walked to find Cassandra and Ezekiel. He didn’t understand why, but he saw Alice stealing that painting. But how did he see it? Jacob felt another sharp pain in his head as he pondered the thought as he replayed the image in his mind. The petite cute blonde woman was definitely Alice, he was sure of it. His head was swimming in varying thoughts and pain as he continued to make his way through the seemingly increasing crowd of this gallery. 

“There you are. We need your expertise on this, Jacob.” said a pleasantly familiar voice. Cassandra. 

“Sorry.”

“Jacob, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, what do you need help with?”

“You’re not fine.” Cassandra looked up at his facial expressions, squinting her eyes at him. “It happened again, didn’t it.”

“Can we not do this now? Please I promise we can talk about it later, at the Annex.”

Cassandra stares at Jacob for a moment. “Sure, but we will talk later, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, then come on.” Cassandra states calmly as she begins to lead Jacob into another room, where they meet up with Ezekiel.

“About time, man! What took you so long?” Ezekiel complained.

“Doesn’t matter, what did you two need help with?”

“We found it,” Cassandra said, cutting to the chase. “However, on the cover of the book, there are these symbols. It doesn’t match up with the time period that Marlowe lived in.” She said as the three of them walked up to the journal, which was protected in a glass case. “I think it’s a language of some kind.”

Jacob took a moment examining the cover of the journal. “You’re right, these symbols are in Latin.”

“Maybe the old dude just liked the notebook, doesn’t mean it's anything out of the ordinary.” Ezekiel says with a shrug.

“Has anything the clippings book sent us after been ‘ordinary’?” 

“Good point. Carry on.”

Jacob moved closer to the journal to examine the symbols more closely. His brows furrowed slightly as he began to decipher the text. “Does anyone have a piece of paper and a pen?” he asked while still examining the book’s cover.

“Who carries paper around anymore?” Ezekiel asks in a non-helping manner.

“Here you go.” Cassandra says as she hands over a small notepad and pen to Jacob.

“Of course, you just happen to have that. You got a picnic there too?”

“Dammit, Jones. Can’t you be quiet for just a minute?” Jacob growls slightly as he’s scribing words on the note pad, eyes never leaving the journal’s cover.

“Oh come on, man. You know you love my quips. Highlight of your day after all.”

Jacob ignores Ezekiel’s comment as he finishes writing on the paper. He takes a moment to reread the words he’s written. “That… interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” queried Cassandra.

“Well it was always rumored that Marlowe was a believer in the occult, due to his constant questioning of what the church and Christianity taught people. But these words… they are his own words, but in addition to that… those rumors might actually be true.”

“What are you saying, cowboy?” Ezekiel asked, suddenly very interested.

“This journal is infused with magic.”

Chapter Text

Leverage POV

Nate felt as if he could only watch as the Colonel ordered Eliot to leave the three of them alone. The way that Eliot had looked at him before he left was unsettling, to say the least, he never saw that much confusion or fear on the face of their beloved Hitter. After the amnesiac left, Nate turned his attention back to the Colonel. Her arms folded across her chest, her stance sturdy, she meant business. Her gaze lingered on Nate for a moment longer and her eyes bounced towards Parker. Nate could see the way that her eyes narrowed.

“You’re Alice.” the Colonel stated, definitely not asking.

Parker didn’t say anything for what felt like a long moment. “Yes. I-”

“You took Stone’s wallet?” 

“What?” Parker asked, a little taken back by the bluntness of the Colonel’s pseudo-non-question. “N-no. We bumped into each other earlier, I dropped my things, and he helped me pick them up. I guess he accidentally threw his wallet in my bag by mistake.”

The Colonel hummed, eyes still narrowed, she turned her attention towards Nate. “Who are you?”

“Ah, well…” he started with a slight chuckle, “Name’s Tom Baker. And uh I’m assuming you’re working with uh… Jacob there… so I’m guessing you’re a librarian as well?” He finishes his question with an eager smile and a few head nods.

“No.”

“Oh… well, it was uh nice meeting you, but we were hoping to continue our conversation with uh... Mr. Stone, since he is a librarian, I am certain he would be more than interested in discussing a few pieces that might be of value to him considering he works in a library.”

The Colonel chuckled as he finished his sentence. With her eyes no longer narrowed, she presses her lips in a tight, professional smile. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t know what you said to him, but I do know that I didn’t like what I saw. So if you have something to discuss, you can discuss it with me.”

Nate looked at her for a moment, trying to figure out what iteration of the plan they were on now. He certainly hasn’t met many like Colonel Baird. “And, may I ask how it is you work with Mr. Stone? If you aren’t a librarian…”

“My job is to keep him safe.” the Colonel states matter-of-factly. “And my gut is telling me to keep him away from you.”

“Listen, Colonel…Baird, was it? You’ve got the wrong idea, we are not here to cause anyone harm. We just want to… help out.” Nate states as he stays in character.

The Colonel begins to say something in a threateningly low tone, but Nate doesn’t quite catch it as he hears Hardison in his ear.

>“Guys… uh we got a problem.”< the team hears Hardison say through the comms.

“What is it?” Sophie asks quietly as she makes her way across the gallery room, stopping as she spots Eliot and the other two of this new group staring at a display case containing a book. She watches as a redhead passes a pen and paper over to the Hitter. “Is it Keller?”

>“No… worse.”<

“Colonel Baird.” Nate hears an accented voice call out from behind him. He doesn’t even need to turn around to know who the slimy voice belongs to. He watches as the expression on the Colonel’s face shifts from interrogation to one of practiced pleasantry.

“Jim,” she says with a professional smile as Sterling walks past Nate and Parker to stand in between the Mastermind and the Colonel.

Nate can feel his jaw clench as Sterling gives him an amused smirk. It takes everything in his power not to hit the man. Nate subtly nudges Parker with his elbow, without even looking, he could tell the thief was staring daggers at the newcomer. The last thing that they wanted was to create a scene.

“Thanks for meeting with me. I appreciate you coming out on such short notice, however, I thought we were going to meet later.”

“My flight came in early.” Sterling replies charmingly. “And with my newly found free time, I wanted to see what the fuss was about… I was also curious as to what our… mutual friend has on display.”

“So… you uh… know each other?” Nate interrupts through gritted teeth, making the Colonel and Sterling look at him. The former back to her slight glare, and the latter still with that shit-eating grin on his face.

“Of course,” Sterling replies casually to Nate, then addresses the Colonel. “And, Colonel Baird, it's the least I can do. Especially since you've helped me close some cases over at Interpol.” he finishes, never averting his gaze or smirking from Nate. “And, pray tell, how do you two know each other, N-.”

“Tom Baker,” Nate says, cutting Sterling off, and giving him his amused smirk. 

Sterling couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course it is.”

The Colonel looked between Nate and Sterling, he could tell that the woman was assessing the situation. After what appeared to be her assessment being done, she looked towards Sterling. “Mr. Baker here was just harassing my colleague. I was just telling him to back off.”

“Colleague?” Sterling asked, turning his attention back to the Colonel. “You informed me over the phone that you left NATO, so I assumed you were solo… who’s this new colleague of yours?”

> “You’ve got company, Nate.”< the team hears Sophie call out through the comms link.

“Colleagues. And I did.” The Colonel states answering Sterling, seemingly not noticing Nate’s slight distress as he watches as Eliot and the two others in his new group walk up. Hearing the new footsteps The Colonel and thankfully Sterling turns to view the newcomers. “Speaking of. You guys alright?”

“Parker,” Nate says in a low voice, leaning towards her, so only she can hear. “Head back to the van.”

Without missing a beat, Parker nods and leaves the growing group without being noticed by anyone besides Nate. Nate moves to stand beside Sterling as the newcomers approach.

“Peachy.” states, who Nate remembers as, Jones. “Considering all we did was-” 

“Eve,” interrupted the redhead, Cillian, as Eliot lightly smacked Jones’ shoulder, shutting him up. “We should head back to the…” she glanced at Nate and Sterling briefly before turning her attention back to the Colonel. “...back to the thing, since Jacob found some information on… the other thing. ”

“Right.” the Colonel nodded affirmatively as if she knew exactly what the redhead meant.

“These are your new colleagues?” Sterling asks skeptically, butting into the women’s conversation, his gaze lingering on Eliot.

“Yes. Ezekiel Jones, Jacob Stone, and Cassandra Cillian.” The Colonel gestured towards the three newcomers and pointed at them from left to right, introducing them. “This is James Sterling. I’ve worked with him a few times when our departments were collaborating on a few cases.”

The three gave a slight wave or nod towards Sterling

“Where do you all work again?” asks Sterling

Nate grimaces as he watches Eliot flash Sterling a friendly smile and hold out his hand to shake that of the latter’s. Sterling looked like he barely held back a whole body flinch as Eliot stuck his hand out to him.

“We’re the librarians , from The Metropolitan Public Library,” Eliot answers.

What happens next, Nate cannot explain. He watches, perplexed, as Sterling… shivers? Nate can see a small but friendly smile on the man’s face as he shakes Eliot’s hand. “Nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you lot.”

As Eliot stepped back from the handshake, Sterling looked confused for a moment, looking down at his hand and then wiping it on his pants leg. 

Nate doesn’t miss the look of amusement that passes through the trio.

“Um… right.” The Colonel cuts in, stepping in front of the others, and addresses Sterling. “I wasn’t expecting you so early, but I really need to take care of this…”

“ ‘Thing’ ?” 

“Right...” The Colonel pauses to think, then turns towards the trio behind her. “Do you guys think you’ll be alright heading off without me? I’ll catch up with you at the-”

“Colonel Baird,” Sterling interrupts, “Don’t worry about me, like you said I’m early. Take care of what you need and we’ll reconvene at the time we agreed.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely,” Sterling says with a smile, then placing a hand on Nate's shoulder, causing the newcomers to look at him for the first time. “It will give me a moment to see what exactly Mr. Baker here is selling.”

Nate chuckles, trying to keep his composure while in character. He doesn’t miss how Eliot’s eyes pointedly don't meet his. 

“Okay, I’ll meet with you later then.” The Colonel states as she begins to usher the trio away, however Eliot pauses before they get too far.

“Where’s Alice?” Eliot asks, looking past Nate’s shoulder.

“Alice?” Sterling quieres.

“Yeah, the girl that was with Mr. Baker, uh… Tom.”

Sterling’s attention turns to Nate briefly then back at the Hitter. “Who’s-”

“My assistant!” Nate cuts off with a loud laugh, “Yes, yes, I sent her to grab me some lunch. I can tell her you were looking for her… if you want?”

“That won’t be necessary. Let’s go.” The Colonel interrupts as she places a hand on Eliot’s shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later, James.”

“Of course, just give me a ring when you’re done with the… thing .” Sterling comments good-naturedly.

The Colonel only nodded towards Sterling before she walked off with the others. The two men stood in silence as they watched the Colonel ushered the younger trio out of the gallery. It wasn’t too long after they were out of eyesight that Nate pulled Sterling to a less crowded area of the exhibit they currently were in.. Nate turned his attention back to Sterling once again and saw that the man was looking quizzically at his hand. After taking a moment to study his hand, Sterling looks back at Nate, the slight confusion leaving his features.

“What the hell are you doing here, Sterling?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Nate. Or should I say, Tom ?” 

“Answer the question, James ,” Nate said pointedly.

“As you can see, I was catching up with a friend.”

“You don’t have friends.”

“I do too. We were friends.”

“ Were . Past tense.”

“Touché.” Sterling scoffs. “So why are you here, or should I ask: what con are you pulling off some oblivious wealthy individual?” he finishes with a smirk. “But, the last time I checked, Colonel Eve Baird doesn't fit your typical description of a mark, she is… nauseatingly by-the-book good.”

“I’m not pulling off a con.”

“Really? Well let's state the facts, shall we? If you’re here, Ms. Deveroux is never too far behind, considering the two of you are tied at the hip these days. Let’s see, I happened to spot a tacky food truck that was closed in the middle of the day, so I could only assume that Hardison was within it. Hmm.. Parker was here right before you sent her off to get you ‘lunch’. Now, that just leaves Mr. Spencer, whom I have never seen be so committed to a role before, you even got him to cut his hair.” Sterling smirks, pausing for a moment.  “So, how’d I do, Nate? Do I get a prize?”

> “Oh, I hate Evil Nate!”< Parker shouts into the comms.

Nate sighs. “Alright, fine. You’re right, we’re pulling a con… but we aren’t stealing anything.”

“Yet.”

“Well, that isn't in the cards at the moment, but you never know, things change. Also, what was that before? You looked like you had a mini-stroke or something.”

“When?”

“When you shook hands with… Jacob.”

“Really? Come on, Nate. I know your beloved Hitter is playing his part in whatever scheme you cracked up. I know all your tricks. No reason to hide them from me. What I don’t quite understand is why are you targeting Colonel Baird, from what I know of her, she is generally a good person. Sickenly so I might add once more, and believe me I checked.”

“Answer my question and I may just answer yours,” Nate stated, already getting annoyed with how Sterling danced around his words.

Sterling sighed as he took a glance at his hand. “I don’t know what happened.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

"It played out just as it sounds, Nate. I anticipated a repeat of the previous encounter with your eclectic bunch, half-expecting a punch to the face. Surprisingly, though, when he extended his hand, his words resonated with such undeniable sincerity that I found myself compelled to acquiesce. The whole experience was unsettling, to say the least."

“So… you did have a stroke?” Nate asked, giving Sterling a strange look.

“I did not have a bloody fucking stroke!” Sterling spat at him, his face slightly red. “Now it's your turn to answer my questions. Why are you here? Why are you targeting Colonel Baird? And who on earth is Alice?”

“Alice?”

“Yes!” Sterling exclaimed gesturing towards the spot where they were speaking to the Colonel and the trio. “Before they left, Spencer asked you where Alice went.”

“Oh… right.” Nate sighed, taking a moment to contemplate. 

> “I dunno if we should tell him, man.”< Hardison states through the comms.

> “We might not have a choice, he’s seen Eliot, plus this Colonel Baird called Sterling in to help her group. It’s only a matter of time before he figures it out for himself.”< Sophie reasons.

> “I vote no. Sterling doesn’t like us, especially not Eliot. Why should we tell him?”< Parker adds.

> “Man… these used to be so much easier with a tiebreaker.”< mutters Hardison.

“He’s going to figure it out, best if we tell him first,” Nate says to his team, not caring if Sterling hears him. Once he turns his attention back to the man, Nate takes another breath. “Eliot thinks that Parker is Alice.”

“What?”

“That’s what he thinks her name is… That’s who he thinks she is.”

Sterling couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re kidding, right? Oh, that’s funny. Really is. I guess all those hits to the head got to him, huh?” Sterling jokes, as he continues to laugh for a full minute.

Nate stares at the other man as he continues to laugh. With every second, Nate can feel his anger rise. He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times. ‘Damn, I need another drink.’ he thinks to himself.

As he laughs, Sterling can see how annoyed the man in front of him is. The way that Nate isn’t laughing along with him, sobers him up. “Wait… you’re serious?”

“Dead.”

“Shit… I had no idea.”

“Neither did we until recently, but that’s why we’re here, and since you’re here, you’re going to help us.”

“Why would I do that, Nate? I very much liked not being punched in the face by him.”

“Because he’s in danger or he will be if we don’t,” Sophie states as she walks up to stand next to Nate.

“Ah. Ms. Deveroux, I was wondering when I’d see your face.”

“Not the time, Sterling.”

“What do you mean he’ll be in danger? In danger of what, or whom?”

“Listen,” Nate interjects. “Here is not a good place to speak about everything that is going on.”

“What, are you inviting me to your secret Batcave then, Natey?”

> “No!”< shouts Parker and Hardison in the comms at the same time.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Nate replies to Sterling, ignoring the thief and hacker.

“Lead the way then.”

“If you’re not careful, Sterling, you still might get that punch to the face.”

~*~

Librarians POV

Jacob stared at Marlowe’s journal as he transcribed the script from the cover to the paper that was provided by Cassandra. He could still feel the slight pressure within his skull, but all he could do right now was ignore it. Whatever is causing it, Alice is connected to it somehow. How? He has no idea, but that is a question for later. Despite Jacob not being too big of a fan of magic, he could feel the slight magical energy emanating off of the journal, or from the script. Another question for later. After he finished transcribing the words from the cover, he returned Cassandra’s pen and folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

“Care to explain to the rest of the class what you mean?” Ezekiel asked as he stepped up towards the glass case containing the journal.

“I’m not sure. I can just tell that it is infused with magic somehow.” Jacob explained. “Magica arcanorum oblivio ligat.”

“Gesundheit.” 

“What? No. It’s Latin. It means-”

“The magic of the secret binds oblivion.” finishes Cassandra, earning a smile from Jacob.

“Secret? What secret? That’s not much to go on.” Ezekiel replies, not caring to see the impressed look that Jacob gives the redhead. 

As Ezekiel ignored the pair, he took a moment to walk around the glass case, lightly pushing Jacob out of the way. 

“Watch it, man,” Jacob growled half-heartedly as he allowed Ezekiel to push him. He took a step closer to Cassandra.

“Hmm. Cameras are covering almost every inch of this place. Also, I’ve seen this type of display before, there is a motion sensor directly under the book, so removing it will set off a silent alarm, alerting security.”

“So getting this book will be impossible?” Cassandra asks.

“No, not impossible, just tedious,” Jones stated as he crouched down next to the case. “I’m going to need the schematics of the building and preferably the staffing schedule as well.”

“That’ll take some time,” Jacob mumbled under his breath.

“Not unless we ask Jenkins?” Cassandra replies with a knowing smile. “Maybe he’ll know why that phrase is on the book?”

“Jenkins?” Ezekiel scoffed, “That man never wants to help us.”

“He acts like he doesn’t want to help us, Ezekiel, but whenever we need his help, he always has some type of device that does.”

“She has a point, you know.” 

“Ugh.” Ezekiel groans. “Of course, you would agree with her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Jones?”

“Oh, nothing,” Ezekiel replied with a wink towards Jacob. 

Jacob couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Jones. “Come on, let’s go.”

The three Librarians (in training) made their way out of the hall that was currently housing the journal. As they passed the threshold into the main gallery. 

Jacob had to pretend not to notice a woman watching them. He knew he had never seen her before, must have, as she looked at him with familiarity. Jacob can’t help but take notice as he can see the woman mutter something under her breath as she walks in the opposite direction from them. Her accent catches his attention. Although Jacob couldn’t place it, he knew it was distinctly European. 

The thought of Lamia came to mind, probably because of how similarly shady this woman was being, especially since he knew she was talking into what he could assume was a comm link or something... ‘How…or why would I know that?’ he thought momentarily before pushing the thought away. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness go through him as he began to usher Cassandra and Ezekiel faster to Baird. 

As they walked up to the Colonel, he saw that she was still speaking with Mr. Baker, Alice, as well as another man in a suit. Considering what had happened before with Mr. Baker, Jacob made it a point not to look at him for too long, as the uncertain feeling began bubbling up in his stomach once more. 

“You guys okay?” Eve asked the trio. Jacob could see how her gaze lingered on him momentarily as she asked.

“Peachy.” Jones started. “Considering all we did was-”

“Eve,” Cassandra interrupted as Jacob took the liberty to smack Jones on the shoulder. “We should get back to the…” she paused as she looked briefly at the outsiders, “...back to the thing since Jacob found some information on… the other thing. ”

“Right.” Eve nodded, knowing exactly what she meant.

“These are your new colleagues?” the newcomer asked, making Jacob's gaze turn to the man.

Ezekiel, Jacob, and Cassandra all waited patiently as Eve introduced them to one of her old colleagues, James Sterling. With each one of them giving him a slight wave or head nod.

“Where do you all work again?” James asks.

Jacob couldn’t help but smile, he loved this part, and the others knew it. That’s probably why none of them tried to tell the man before he could. He takes a step forward and extends a hand out towards him. “We’re The Librarians , from The Metropolitan Public Library.”

“Nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you lot.” James responds, after a momentary pause. After the handshake, Jacob steps back next to Cassandra and Ezekiel as James wipes his hand on his pants leg.

“Um… right.” Eve cuts in, stepping in front of her charges. “I wasn’t expecting you so early, but I really need to take care of this…”

“ ‘Thing’ ?” James finishes her sentence, appearing more composed now than a moment ago. 

“Right…” Eve pauses as she looks at the trio behind her, contemplating. “Do you guys think you’ll be alright heading off without me? I’ll catch up with you at the-”

“Colonel Baird,” James interrupts, “Don’t worry about me, like you said, I’m early. Take care of what you need and we’ll reconvene at the time we agreed.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely,” James confirmed with a smile, then placed a hand on Mr. Baker’s shoulder, causing the group, minus Jacob, to look over at the other man. “It will give me a moment to see what exactly Mr. Baker here is selling.”

“Okay, I’ll meet with you later then,” Eve states as she begins to usher the trio away.

Jacob couldn’t help but notice, as they walked past the men, that someone was missing. “Where’s Alice?”

“Alice?” James questions.

“Yeah, the girl that was with Mr. Baker, uh… Tom.”

James looked briefly at Tom, and then back to him. “Who’s-”

“My Assistant!” Tom interjects with a laugh, “Yes, yes, I sent her to grab me some lunch. I can tell her you were looking for her if you want?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Eve answers for him, as she places a hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “Let’s go. I’ll catch up with you later, James.”

The quartet swiftly exited the gallery, guided by Eve's efficient pace. Despite their haste, the urgency with which Eve ushered them limited their mobility. It came as no surprise when Jacob accidentally collided with a stranger, causing the individual to stagger and grasp Jacob's arm for support. "Sorry," Jacob quietly apologized, reaching out to steady the man as it appeared he had nearly knocked him over. 

The stranger didn’t respond or maybe, he didn’t have a chance to, as Colonel Baird had to backtrack to reprimand him.

“Stone, we gotta go.” 

“Yeah, come on Jakey, you’re holding us up,” added Ezekiel with a sarcastic tone.

“Sorry,” Jacob muttered again to the man before turning around and making his way back to the group. Once he had caught up, the four of them began to make their way back to the Annex.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t just use the back door to get back. Why do we have to walk ?” complained Ezekiel once they made it a few blocks away from the gallery.

“Because, we walked here in the first place, and now we’re walking back.”

“Oh, Baird, you are no fun!”

“Good. That is exactly how I like it because we have a job to do.”

“So, how do you know this James Sterling guy, anyways?” Jacob asks, getting the conversation away from Ezekiel’s whining. 

“Yeah, it seems odd that you’d go to someone well… not… well in our magical circle, help us with a case,” Cassandra adds with a slight chuckle.

“I’ve used my contacts from when I was in NATO to help with cases before.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never met them,” Jacob added.

“Well, this is a special case, so don’t get used to it.”

“How so?”

“Well, Sterling works for Interpol and-”

“Interpol?!” Ezekiel jumps in. “Like the Interpol? You know I’m a master thief, right? I’m probably on that guy’s most wanted list because of how amazing I am at stealing things.”

“Jones, if you were on Sterling’s list of ‘top bad guys to arrest’, you’d already be arrested.” Eve laughs loudly.

“Ouch. Jeez, Baird, you know your words hurt just as much as those fists do.”

The group loudly made their presence known as they entered the Annex, not too long after they made their departure from the gallery. As they walked through the large threshold, they all saw Jenkins by the center table, with a cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other.

“Jenkins!” Cassandra exclaimed loudly.

“Oh… how I wished you’d all be gone for much… much longer.” the older man sighed as he took a long sip of his tea, then placed the cup down, and moved away from the table to walk over to a nearby bookshelf.

“Nice to see you too,” Jacob remarked sarcastically. “You know, just once, you could, I don’t know, stop pretending that you hate seeing us.”

Jenkins hummed in response, neither confirming nor denying Jacob’s claim. “Well? Tell me what it is that you need help with this time.”

“How do you know that we need your help with something?” Ezekiel asked as he jumped up to sit on a nearby desk, and pointedly avoided the annoyed looks from Baird and Jacob.

“Well, you always need help with something. It was only a matter of time.” the older man responded as he moved back to the large center table after retrieving a new book from the shelf.

“And you always deliver,” Jacob replies standing opposite Jenkins, arms folded across his chest. He can’t help but smile as the other man does as well, they have gotten into the habit of this usual back-and-forth banter.

“Alright, enough.” sighed Eve. “Jacob, what did you find at the gallery?”

“Well,” Jacob began as he pulled the piece of paper from his front pocket. “Marlowe’s journal had some Latin written on it, and it said: ‘Magica arcanorum oblivio ligat.’. Which translates to: ‘The magic of the secret binds oblivion’.”

“What secret?”

“That’s exactly what I asked,” Ezekiel stated while swinging his feet.

“Well, it could be many different things, to be perfectly honest,” Jenkins commented.

“How so?” Cassandra queried.

“Well, Marlowe was not only just a playwright and poet of his time. There have been controversies surrounding his life and death for… well centuries.” Jenkins pauses for a brief moment as he flips through the new book in his hands, walking back towards the center table.

“What type of controversies?” 

“Where do we even start?” Jenkins chuckled. “Christopher Marlowe was a man of many things, secrets being one of them.”

“Summarize for us, will you?” Eve said in her usually impatient tone.

“The most common theory was that Marlowe was a spy, working for an intelligence service. Oh and that he faked his death, escaped, and then hid so he could continue working for his employers.”

“Why would anyone think he faked his death?” Ezekiel asked, sounding genuinely interested in Marlowe for the first time.

“Because, when Christopher Marlowe was ‘stabbed’, his body was rushed to be buried in an unmarked grave in St. Nicholas churchyard in Deptford. So, besides that, there were the less-known controversies surrounding Marlow. The first is that he was part of the occult. The second is, even less known considering how taboo it was back in his time, but a lot of people did not believe that Marlowe was strictly heterosexual, but others argued that he was.”

Jacob hummed slightly as he pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes tightly. 

“Why is that a controversy?” Jones asked as he jumped down from the desk. “Why would anyone care who he slept with?”

“It sparked controversy because he likely stood alone among the writers of his era in approaching same-sex relationships with empathy.” Jacob started in an even and quiet tone, nose no longer pinched “And people cared because it was considered to be a serious crime to have same-sex relationships. Whether he identified as gay, bisexual, or outside the realm of heterosexuality, didn’t matter. If he deviated from the ‘norm’, he had to conceal a fundamental aspect of his identity."

“Wow.” Ezekiel scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “People suck.”

“Yeah.” Jacob couldn’t help but chuckle at the other man’s comment. “Oh, and Jones? You might like this one, Marlowe was once arrested for counterfeiting in the Netherlands,” he added to break the slightly weighted tension in the room.

“No way?!” Ezekiel couldn’t help but laugh now. “Oh, man. This guy keeps sounding better and better! I’d say Marlowe is now my favorite playwright.” 

“Have you even read any of his works?”

“Not at all, does it matter?”

Jacob shook his head with a smile on his face. “No, I guess not.”

“Might I suggest,” Jenkins interjected, getting the team back on topic. “That this ‘secret’ could be concerning one of the controversies of the man himself? My money would be on the occult controversy since the phrase translates to the word ‘magic’ itself.”

“How would we investigate that?” asked Ezekiel. 

“With this,” Jenkins replies as he pulls out a sleek gadget, almost like a futuristic calculator with an angled screen, connected by a sturdy cable to a small handheld device resembling a modern, high-tech fan.

“And what would this be?”

“Is that an anemometer?” Jacob asks, walking next to Ezekiel, he takes the fan out of the other man’s hand.

“What’s an anemometer?”

“It’s a device that measures wind speed and pressure. It’s used to study weather patterns.”

“Of course you would know that, farm boy.” 

“Dammit Jones! How many times do I need to tell you, I didn’t grow up on a farm?” Jacob growls with fake heat.

“Doesn’t matter, the description fits,” Ezekiel responds with a playful smile as Jacob shoves the anemometer back into his hand.

"Correct, well, in a way," Jenkins starts, noticing Jacob's irritated expression, and clarifies, "Not about the farm, disregard that. I mean the anemometer. This device is designed to detect magical traces, akin to the occult energies that our companion, Mr. Marlowe might have employed in his endeavors."

“So, Marlowe used a different type of magic than what we’ve experienced before with the ley lines?” Cassandra asks as she tilts her head slightly at the device in Ezekiel’s hands.

“Not exactly. Magic evolves just like anything else. Think of the magic from the STEM fair for example, the magic of this modern day had evolved to the point where it could be adapted and used in a regular smartphone.”

“Let me get this straight,” Eve interjects. “So this device of yours will pinpoint the type of magic that Marlowe used when he was alive, and not just surrounding magic in general?

“Exactly!” Jenkins exclaims with enthusiasm. He then walks over towards the globe by the back door. “I’ll set the door to Deptford. I’d recommend starting at the ‘end’ sort of speech.” 

“Awesome,” Ezekiel states as he walks to face the back door. As he gets there, Cassandra and Jacob walk to stand by his side.

“Woah, wait a second.” Eve takes a step forward, holding her hand up. “We can’t go right now.”

The Librarians and Jenkins all turned their attention to Colonel Baird, and in unison, they questioned with voices filled with protest, "Why not?"

“Because,” she began to explain after a glance of her watch. “I have to meet with James in an hour. And considering our track record we will not be done in Deptford by the time I am supposed to meet with him.” 

“Well, there is a simple solution for that, Colonel Baird. Let them go by themselves… think of it as a learning experience.”

“And if something goes wrong?”

Jenkins walks away from the globe and walks towards Baird, ushering her a little away from the others. “They’re Librarians, Colonel. Something always goes wrong,” he says in a quiet tone so the others don’t hear.

“That doesn’t instill a lot of confidence in me, Jenkins.”

“I don’t see what the issue is, they’ve been out on their own before and came back to tell the tale.”

“I know…” she paused as she pinched her nose for a brief moment “but, something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

Eve spared another glance, this time towards Jacob. He was still standing next to the others. Jones was speaking loud enough for her to hear about how they should just go, and not worry about the agent. Eve sighed, then looked back at Jenkins. 

“Something’s wrong with Jacob,” she said in a quiet tone.

“What’s wrong with Stone?”

“I’m not sure. He’s been… acting strange lately. Dissociating.”

“Dissociating?”

“Yeah… back at the gallery, this man was speaking with him and he was practically frozen. When we were leaving he practically refused to look at the man.”

“Who was he speaking to?”

“Some guy by the name of Tom Baker. Said he was trying to sell Jacob some works of publication or something.”

“Interesting.”

“I just don’t feel comfortable with him alone in the field right now. I know I’ve taught him how to defend himself, he’s a fast learner too, and he’s good. But if he freezes again and something bad happens and I’m not there to protect them…”

Jenkins paused, looked over at Jacob, and then back to her. “You do not need to worry, Colonel Baird. I will ensure they’ll be safe.” he finished with a polite smile.

“You?” she asked skeptically, “but, you rarely go into the field.”

“Colonel Baird.” he started in a reassuring tone. “I know, with Flynn out, taking care of three Librarians is a tough job to do alone. It’s something that no other Guardian has ever had to face. It is alright to receive help every once in a while… Besides, if my being there in case anything happens puts your mind at ease, I would be more than happy to share the burden. Just do not let them know that.”

“Thank you, Jenkins.”

“Of course,” Jenkins replies in a low voice to her. He then turns to face the Librarians and lets out a dramatic huff, to which Colonel Baird rolls her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Cassandra asked, suddenly worried.

“What’s wrong?” Jenkins responded, feigning annoyance. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong. Colonel Baird is forcing me to go with you to Deptford.”

“What? Why?” complained Ezekiel.

“We can handle ourselves. We don’t need a babysitter.” Jacob added.

“Well since I have a meeting with James, you guys can’t seem to wait to be over. Jenkins here will accompany you.” Eve explained.

“And you agreed?” Jacob asked Jenkins with a raised brow.

“I wouldn’t say I agreed, it was more like coerced.”

“I told him if he didn’t go with you on this one, while I had my meeting, he would have to go with all of us on the next five cases,” Eve stated as if it was the truth.

The three librarians paused for a moment and then all mumbled in acceptance at their current situation.

“Alright.” Eve started loudly, getting the attention of the entire room. “Jenkins is in charge of you while you’re in Deptford. I will meet with you back here after my meeting and we’ll all debrief. Understood?”

“Sounds good,” confirmed Jacob.

“Got it.” nodded Cassandra.

“Whatever. Can we go now?” moaned Ezekiel.

“Patience is a virtue, Mr. Jones,” Jenkins stated as he made his way back towards the globe and gave it a good spin after putting in the coordinates for Deptford. 

The Annex resonated with the roar of gusty winds and crackling electricity for a brief moment. As the cacophony subsided, Jenkins approached the door and swung both handles outward. Before them lay a cobblestone alley leading to a panoramic view of the Thames River. Jenkins took the lead, passing through the threshold. After a moment's pause, he signaled for the others to follow. Without objection, Cassandra, Ezekiel, and Jacob walked through the Back Door, which closed behind them.

Colonel Baird let out a sigh once she was alone. She had a gut feeling that she just couldn’t ignore. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and dialed. It took a few rings before the other line picked up.

“James?”

…

“Yes, everything is fine. My schedule just cleared up a bit.”

…

“Not a problem. I was just going to suggest the same thing.”

…

“Yeah, I know where that is. I’ll meet you there.”

…

“Alright. Bye.”

Chapter Text

Leverage POV

There was a palpable silence in the air as the Leverage team awaited Sterling's absorption of the given information. The man stood before the monitor display, confronted with images of Eliot Spencer in a hospital bed, a katana-wielding woman looming over him, and side-by-side comparisons of the man with and without his signature long hair. The only interruption to this tense stillness was a subtle ping from Hardison's laptop, drawing the hacker's attention away from the man who had attempted to incarcerate them all on numerous occasions.

“So,” Sterling started after a long pregnant pause, “Spencer truly has no idea who you people are?”

“It would appear so.” Nate confirmed, nursing a drink in his hand.

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

“And what do you mean by that, Sterling?” Sophie questions, crossing her arms.

"Just like that," Sterling remarked with a casual shrug, his tone laced with a hint of irony. "You spent years in each other's company, building camaraderie, forging those bonds. And then, in a blink of an eye, it's all gone. Just like that." Sterling raises his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, snapping his fingers for emphasis. "He doesn't recognize you, and it turns out, perhaps you never truly knew him to begin with."

“Shut the hell up, Sterling!” Parker's voice rings out as she rises to her feet, her steps firm as she advances toward the suited man. “Eliot is our family. We knew the man he wanted us to know. He let us into his life despite whatever it is you think. He protected us for so many years, now it’s our turn to protect him. Even if he doesn’t fully remember us… yet.”

“Woah… woah, Parker…” Hardison intervenes, his voice calm and subdued as he stands up to gently guide Parker back to her seat. “Don’t listen to him, girl. He doesn’t know us. He doesn’t know Eliot like we do. Calm down, alright? You okay?”

Parker nods solemnly, her demeanor softening as she returns to her seat. Hardison settles beside her at the laptop, wrapping one arm around her shoulders while continuing to type with his free hand.

Another tense silence filled the air for what seemed like eternity.

“Alright.” Sterling sighed, as he turned his attention back towards Nate. “I’ll help you.”

Nate raised his eyebrows at the man, and half suppressed the cocky smile that was forming on his lips. “Just like that?”

“What can I say, Nate? I’m a very caring person after all.”

“Sure you are.” he replied curtly. 

“Of course I am.” Sterling smirked at his old friend. “Anyways, enough reminiscing. From what I’ve gathered from my brief conversation with Colonel Baird, the librarians are after Christopher Marlowe’s journal. A journal in which is owned currently by John Douglas Keller… which I presume you already knew, right?”

“Obviously.” Sophie replied in a cautious tone as she eyes Nate briefly.

“What else do you know?” Nate added.

“That’s all that she told me so far.”

“But it isn’t all you know.”

“Quite right, Nate. Colonel Baird is insistent that that journal should be acquired by the library for which she is employed.”

“So they’re actually librarians?” Parker sits up as she asks, eyeing Sterling warily.

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean?” Nate asked as he walked across the room to fill his glass with some more scotch. “Are they actually librarians or not, because they don’t act like any librarians I’ve ever met.”

“I have a hunch.” Sterling states simply.

“Yeah, that hunch is really coming in. Ya know what, Sterling. I can find a chiropractor for you. My Nana actually-”

“Hardison.” Nate cuts him off, which causes Hardison as well as Parker to chuckle slightly to each other. 

“As I was saying,” Sterling continued, “I have a hunch that these librarians do not plan on obtaining this book by ‘legal’ means so to speak.”

“You think they’re going to steal a book… for a library? Doesn’t seem very… ethical, these librarians.” 

“Colonel Baird kept reiterating to me how she was not a librarian, however her charges are. She didn’t explain further.”

“Colonel Baird is in fact employed by The Metropolitan Public Library.” Noted Hardison, without looking up from his screen, his brows furrowed curiously. “She is part of an unspecified division.”

"Unspecified?" Nate and Sterling echoed simultaneously, their eyes meeting in a moment of mutual annoyance.

“Yeah,” continued Hardison, not missing a beat. “Every employee is given a division once they’re onboarded, however there are a handful of people who are ‘unspecified’.”

“Who else is unspecified?” Nate solely asks this time.

“Eliot, for starters. Then there’s the two you met earlier at the gallery, Jones and Cillian. Then there’s a Judson… and a Charlene, no last names listed. Then there’s this one guy, Flynn Carson, I don’t have much on, but I’m still combing the internet.”

“Well get something.”

“Yeah, I plan on it, it's just… there’s something else going on that doesn't make much sense.”

“What isn’t-” Nate begins to question, but is interrupted as Sterling’s ringtone goes off.

“I should take this.” Sterling excuses himself.

Nate shakes his head and turns his attention back towards Hardison. “So what isn’t making sense?”

“Eliot’s gone.”

“What do you mean gone?” he asks, his annoyance thinly veiling his concern.

“I mean he’s gone. G-O-N-E. Gone.”

“How is that possible?” Sophie asks.

“Well the man was in Portland, then all the sudden it shows he’s in England, now. Like he teleported or something. I’m hacking into the CCTV over by the location it says he popped up. It’ll only take me a minute.”

“Maybe your… tracker system thing is busted?”

“My tracker sy-” Hardison flounders briefly. “Sophie, my ‘tracker system thing ’ is a highly sophisticated piece of technology that uses data and software from a satellite. A sa-tuh-lite.”

“Alright. Enough.” Nate interjects as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just… look into it.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing, man?”

“Well, I just spoke to Colonel Baird.” Sterling states loudly as he walks back into the room.

“Well?” Nate sighs.

“She said that her schedule has cleared up and is available to speak much sooner.”

“When?” 

“She is on her way to the establishment you so kindly share your residence with.”

“Great. This sets things in motion a lot faster then.”

“Sets what in motion exactly.”

“Well if they are planning on stealing a book from a notorious criminal, why not help them out?” Nate states with a smug grin. “Sterling, try to get more information from the Colonel, see what their plan for this theft will be. Since you were brought in by her, you’re going to be our in.”

“I’ve already gathered that much, Nate.”

“Good to see you’re keeping up, Sterling.” 

“Well I’ll be damned.” 

“What is it, Hardison?” Nate asks, seeing the shocked look on the hacker’s face.

“He’s in England…” Parker states softly looking over Hardison’s shoulder, looking at the Hacker’s computer screen.

"Who's in England?" Sterling inquires, to which Hardison responds by tapping on his keyboard, projecting his display onto the larger monitor.

The room falls into disbelieving silence for a brief moment as they watch a live CCTV feed. On the screen, their Hitter, accompanied by individuals they recognize as Jones and Cillian, strolls along a less crowded cobblestone street in England, flanked by an older gentleman.

“Are you sure that’s… England?” Nate asks dumbfounded.

“Nate. That river right there… you see that? That’s the Thames River…” Sophie replies shocked.

“How is that possible? We saw them just a few hours ago.” Sterling adds.

“I-I don’t know… but the satellite… the GPS… all points to him being where the feed shows…”

“That isn’t possible…” 

“I-I know that man. There's just no other explanation, but my system says he’s currently in Deptford.”

“How long until you meet with the Colonel?” Nate asks as he turns towards Sterling.

“She’s on her way.”

“Okay… so this is what we’re going to do. Sterling, meet with the Colonel… try to get any information possible about what it is her group is attempting to do. Hardison… keep an eye on Eliot. Figure out how the hell he ended up in England. Parker… I need you to break in somewhere.

“I don’t know how you people wear these infuriating things all the time.” Sterling muttered into his glass as he waited for Colonel Baird’s arrival.

>“You get used to it.”< answered Nate.

>“Just think of it as a little prattling in your ear.”< added Sophie, causing Sterling to chuckle slightly as he took a sip of his drink.

“Ah. I see you started without me, James.”

"Eve," Sterling stated, rising from his seat and gesturing towards the booth opposite him. "Please, have a seat. I'm sure there's much to discuss."

"Thank you for meeting me on such short notice," Colonel Baird says as she slides into the booth across from him.

“It’s quite alright, to be perfectly honest. I’m curious as to what cleared up in your schedule, I don’t see your lackeys with you.”

"Lackeys?" Colonel Baird chuckles. "No, they aren't my lackeys. I mean, they do follow the orders I give them... from time to time. It's more of a moment-by-moment situation."

“Ah.. I see, so they don’t work for you?”

“It’s rather hard to explain.” the Colonel starts, but then flags down a waiter to order a drink for herself. 

“I’m sure I’ll get the gist.”

“James. This isn’t what I came here to talk about.”

“Colonel Baird.” Sterling sighed. “Eve. You called me for my help, and I am willing to help you. I just need to know what you and your team are getting yourselves into. Have you ever faced off against Keller?”

“Well, no. But I did face off against terrorists back when I was with NATO.”

Sterling smiled. “But you’re no longer with NATO, Eve. You said it yourself, you work at a library. So, I am only asking, so I know, why exactly a group of librarians is trying to go up against someone such as Keller, considering who he has worked for and with, in the past.”

Colonel Baird, leaned forward with her fingers weaved together as she stared at Sterling with a heated look that could melt ice. “Keller has a book that belongs to the library.”

“Right… the journal of Christopher Marlowe, you mentioned. Did Keller steal it from your library?”

“No, but it doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to the library, and we’re going to get it.”

Sterling takes a moment to let silence settle between them, sipping his drink slowly. As Eve receives her own drink, he continues, "I've never seen a group of librarians exhibit such dedication to their cause, willing to stand up against a criminal as formidable as Keller."

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way of pissing people off, James?” the Colonel replied with a thin smile.

“Once or twice.” he replied with a smirk.

“Hm. I can see why.” she responds as she takes a sip.

>”I’m starting to like her.”< Nate comments in Sterling’s ear, to which he ignores.

"Colonel Baird, you're the one who called upon me for assistance. And in order for me to provide said assistance effectively, I require all the pertinent information. So please, Colonel, understand that I'm not attempting to be malicious. I'm simply endeavoring to offer the support you requested."

The Colonel sighed as she rubbed her hands together in contemplation. “Alright, listen. I can’t give you all the details, as there are some things that are classified .” 

“I understand.” Sterling simply nodded with a sly smirk.

“ The library that I work for has an unusual way of doing things. My team gets… informed of different artifacts that should belong within the library, and it is our job that it doesn’t get into the wrong hands. If it is already in the wrong hands, we need to get it into the correct hands.”

“So you and your team are just a group of… librarians?”

“Technically speaking, they’re the librarians.”

“Then what are you?”

“I’m their guardian. It’s my job to keep them safe.”

>”She said something similar back at the gallery.”< Nate comments through the comm.

“Keep them safe?” Sterling adds with an amused chuckle. “From what, papercuts?”

“Where we get sent tends to always have some danger.”

“Just like now, you’ll be trying to get your hands on something from Keller.”

“Exactly.” the Colonel sighs.

“So, Colonel, where exactly are your librarians now?”

“They’re out researching a lead.”

“I see. So I know I met them only briefly, but maybe we can head back to your library so I can get to know them a little better. Help come up with a plan.”

“Like I said, they’re out researching a lead.”

“Oh. So I can assume they’re at the gallery from before, as the book is there?” Sterling presses, setting down his empty glass.

"No, they’re not currently in town, but they will be later," Colonel Baird responds succinctly.

"I see. Well then, let's turn to one of the other matters you called me in for," Sterling says softly as he retrieves an envelope from inside his jacket pocket and slides it across the table towards her.

>”You got that, Parker? You should be all clear.”< Nate announces in the comm.

“Yup, I’m walking up now.”

While approaching the main doors under the bridge, Parker retrieves her lock pick from her pocket. Once at the door, she kneels down at the handle.

"Alright, basic tumbler style lock. Old... only need... two... ticks... and..."

The lock clicks ever so softly. Parker stands up with a satisfied sigh as she turns the handle, causing the door to effortlessly open.

“Presto. I’m in.”

>”Great job.”<

"I mean, it wasn't like it was hard or anything," she states as she begins walking inside. "I'm surprised actually."

>”Why is that?”<

"Well, from being attacked by a crazy ninja lady, to working for an 'undisclosed department,' to a supposed library being underneath a bridge. I figured the whole librarian thing was just some sort of cover story."

>”I mean the whole cover story angle would make a lot of sense, considering they have an ex-NATO personnel as well as a known thief on their team.”< Hardison comments.

“That’s what I’m saying!” 

>”Parker, focus.”< Sophie chimes in. >”You have to be careful. We don’t have a lot of information on this group operates.”<

“I am focusing, Sophie. Geez.” she muttered under her breath as she continued down the long hall from the entrance.

It took no time for Parker to make her way to an open and large room, filled with various books and strange objects. A large ball of wrapped twine caught her attention, prompting her to walk towards it, grab it, and toss it in the air. After messing with it for a moment, she placed it down as she continued canvassing the room. Parker's head swiveled around the room, and her eyes landed on a large fogged glass double door on the side of the room. She strode over to the doors and flung them open with both hands.

“Hm.” She muttered

>”What’s wrong?”< She heard Nate ask through the comms link.

"Nothing. I mean, I'm not sure. This looks like it would be a library, but it seems rather small, plus it's under a bridge, not many visitors. The things in here seem... out of place. Like the broom closet, or this entire building."

>”A broom closet, Parker? What are you talking about?”<

Parker let out a sigh as she closed the doors to the large broom closet and walked towards the center table, flipping through a thick book filled with newspaper clippings.

"Things in this room just seem off. Like nothing belongs, but at the same time, it does. Like that broom closet. I've never seen a broom closet that large, or a scrapbook with random newspaper articles in it. And why does a library have a ball of twine?" she says as she flips through the pages.

>”Historical events?”< Hardison comments, >”Most libraries have newspaper articles pertaining to historical events all the time.”<

“But these seem all over the place. One talks about a car crash at a bridge in the town of Bremen. Another talks about the Chicagoland STEM Fair. Even a supposed alien abduction in Collins Falls.” She says as she flips through the large book.

>”Or not.”<

“Wait… hold on.”

>”Parker? Everything okay?”<

“This book.”

>”What about it?”<

Before she can respond, she hears what sounds like thunder, and a bright blue light flashes behind the doors of the supposed broom closet. "Holy shit," she says, startled, as she quickly grabs the book and rounds the corner of the main room, ducking into the hallway and hanging back slightly. She peeks around the corner to see four people stepping out of the broom closet.

“What the fu-” she whispers.

>”Parker?”< Nate starts, concerned. >”What’s wrong?”<

“They’re back. How is that even possible? I literally opened that door a minute ago.” she says quietly into her comm, pulling her head back.

“Man, Stone. Who knew you had those moves in ya.” Parker hears Jones say excitedly.

“I don’t know, I guess my training with Baird is paying off.” Eliot responds.

“Yes, Mr. Stone, I would have to agree with-” Parker hears a new voice, of an older gentleman speak, causing her to peek around the corner for a brief second where she can see said man standing near where she took the book, causing her to curse under her breath.

“Jenkins?” This time Cillian speaks. “What’s wrong?”

>”Parker, tell us what’s going on. The Colonel just left her meeting with Sterling, and is on her way back. What is happening?”<

Parker quickly makes her exit. Once she believes she is out of earshot of the others in the large room, she quietly runs out of where she originally came in. Once across the street from the bridge, she finally responds.

“They’re back.”

>”Who is back?”< Nate questions in an impatient yet concerned tone.

“Eliot and the others… there was someone else with them this time.”

>”How is that possible, they were just in England. Hardison?”< Nate asks the Hacker.

>"CCTV clocked them back towards the alley, I have no eyes down there. Give me a moment. I can check the GPS tracker on his phone... let me just... Well I’ll be damned."<

"Can someone tell me what is going on?" Parker asks urgently as she hastily makes her way down the street, on the way back to her team, clutching the strange book tightly under her jacket.

>”Satellite as well as GPS confirms he’s back in Portland.”< 

>"That's not possible. There's no logical explanation,"< Sophie says in shock, her voice tinged with disbelief.

>"Parker, make your way back here, but be sure not to bump into Baird on your way back; she’s on her way back."< informs Nate.

"Right."

~*~

Librarians POV

Jacob, Cassandra, Ezekiel, and Jenkins made their way out of the alleyway and into the crowded market streets of Deptford. The four of them navigated through the bustling cobblestone streets under the early evening sky, dodging market vendors and pedestrians as they went. The air was filled with a mixture of exotic spices from the Caribbean restaurants and the crisp scent of the Thames nearby. As they drew closer to the suspected burial site of Christopher Marlowe, and leaving the bustling streets behind, the anticipation hung in the air like a tangible presence. 

"Ah, Deptford, England," Jenkins began with an excited breath.

"You seem excited, Jenkins. Have you been here before?" Cassandra inquired.

"Yes, once or twice. A long time ago, Ms. Cillian," Jenkins replied with a nostalgic smile. "Ah," he continued, pointing over towards a large theater in the distance. "The Albany Theatre, originally built in the late 1800s. However, before that, about two centuries prior, a different theater stood in its place, a name lost to time."

"Lost to time? What do you mean?" Jacob questioned.

"Well, Mr. Stone, in the 1600s, there used to be a theater that was, give or take, the same location as that one there," Jenkins explained. "Open for one night only, in 1643, a company put on a performance of Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus. As the actors took the stage, a sudden burst of 'otherworldly' lights filled the theater, casting an enchanting glow over the audience."

"1643, isn't that… fifty years after Marlowe’s recorded death?" Jake interjected.

"Exactly," Jenkins affirmed. "The spectators marveled as they saw the lights, believing it was all part of the performance. However, the spectacle quickly turned disastrous as the ethereal lights sparked an uncontrollable blaze that engulfed the theater."

"That’s awful," Cassandra remarked, her voice filled with sympathy.

"Yes, truly," Jenkins agreed. "Almost everyone was able to escape the flames, except a few unfortunate fellows. In the aftermath of the devastating fire, rumors and speculation ran rampant. Some attributed the catastrophe to divine punishment or supernatural forces, considering who Marlowe was, while others sought more rational explanations."

"So, people thought the fire was magically created?" Ezekiel asked.

Jenkins nodded. "That is correct. However, during this time, belief in the occult was waning. Authorities and local officials ultimately concluded that the fire was the result of a tragic accident, possibly caused by faulty stage equipment or the mishandling of flammable materials during the performance. A similar incident occurred in 1666."

"Are you saying that the London fires were caused by magic?" Cassandra asked incredulously.

"Well, what else could it be?" Jenkins countered.

"I don't know, an oven fire?" Cassandra suggested.

"Oh, your naiveté is truly adorable," Jenkins replied with a hint of amusement.

The group finally made their way to the cemetery. As they looked around, the atmosphere was somber, with tombstones stretching into the distance beneath the shadow of looming trees.

"I never liked cemeteries," Jacob admitted with a shiver.

"And why is that, mate? Scared of ghosts or something?" Ezekiel teased.

"No. It's just... I never liked the idea of being surrounded by so much death," he explained quietly.

"Well, that is morbid," Cassandra remarked, glancing around at the silent graves.

The group walked around the cemetery for some time, exploring the rows of tombstones and graves. After about five minutes, Ezekiel found himself leaning against a tree, seemingly disinterested in the search.

"You know, you could help us out here, make things go a bit faster," Jacob complained, eyeing Ezekiel skeptically.

"Nah, I don't think so. I'm more interested in getting the loot than poking at grave sites. Think of me more as moral support," Ezekiel chuckled, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets.

Just then, Cassandra's excited voice cut through the quiet atmosphere. "Found it!"

The three other men hurried over to Cassandra, gathering around the tombstone she had pointed out.

"How can you tell that this is the correct hunk of rock?" Ezekiel asked, skepticism evident in his voice.

Cassandra pointed out the emblems on the corner braces. "Look at these intersecting circles of magic and summoning," she explained confidently.

"She's correct," Jenkins confirmed, his device emitting faint beeps of approval. "That's 17th-century occult spiritualism."

"That's definitely magicy," Cassandra remarked, excitement gleaming in her eyes.

Jacob leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued. "And look here," he pointed out, tracing a repeating symbol alternating after every sixth one.

With a deft touch, Jacob tapped on the repeating symbols, causing a small latch to open beneath the etched date on the tombstone. Inside, they found a small piece of parchment, nestled within the hidden compartment.

Ezekiel grabbed the piece of paper, his brow furrowing slightly. "Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight… What does that mean?"

"Doctor Faustus," Jenkins explained. "Marlowe’s more popular play. It's the beginning of the quote. The full quote is 'Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight and-"

"'And burned is Apollo’s laurel bough,'" Jacob finished, cutting the older gentleman off.

Impressed, Jenkins nodded towards Jacob as another click of a mechanism revealed a hidden staircase where the supposed body would be buried.

"Well, I guess that Marlowe wasn’t actually buried here after all," Ezekiel remarked, his voice tinged with disappointment.

"We have to be careful. I’m detecting a magical energy coming from here," Jenkins cautioned, the anemometer-looking device flashing silently.

One by one, they all began to walk down the stairs, Jacob lingering for a moment. He glanced back, a shiver running down his spine as he felt the unsettling sensation of being watched.

"I see. Well then, let's turn to one of the other matters you called me in for," Sterling says softly as he retrieves an envelope from inside his jacket pocket and slides it across the table towards Eve.

Eve opens the envelope and finds passes to the auction. “Thanks.”

“I should warn you, Eve. These people that you’ll be facing up against have done things that would… make even you shudder.”

“I understand. That is why I called you in. I know your reputation, Sterling. You went up against a different criminal set than I ever had.”

Sterling pauses for a moment, seemingly contemplating his words.

“So what happened with Baker?” Eve asks, breaking the silence.

“I beg your pardon?”

“At the gallery, the man that was accosting Stone.”

“Right. Well, I think he might actually be of help.”

Eve laughs. “Seriously? He seems more of a con man to me than someone who can help.”

Sterling chuckles, then pauses thoughtfully. “Sometimes bad guys are the only good guys we get.”

“That’s surprising coming from you.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“I don’t want to risk my team by teaming up with criminals, especially when the person we’re going up against is another criminal. How do we know they won’t double-cross us?"

"Believe me, Colonel Baird. Your suspicions are justified, but I assure you they will not do anything intentionally to jeopardize your team."

Eve sighs. “So Baker isn’t alone?”

“No."

"And you trust them?"

“It would be unwise for me to trust them fully, but I do trust their intentions."

“Well then, how can he help?”

“So that tunnel just took us to a dead end?” Ezekiel asks as the group makes their way to a seemingly open chamber.

“Hold on,” Cassandra states, motioning her hands outwards as she begins to view different equations and statistics floating by her in the air. She quietly mutters about the direction they were facing when they went into the tunnel, calculating longitude and latitude. Once done, she swipes away the calculations and looks towards the others. “If my calculations are correct, which they are, the Albany theater should be right… here.” She turns towards one of the walls and presses into it, causing a panel to move, revealing a glowing purple gem on a pedestal. “Ah!” she squeals excitedly as she rushes towards the gem.

“It looks about the size of that indentation that would fit in Marlowe’s journal,” Jacob comments as he walks closer.

“You think they’re connected?” questions Ezekiel.

“Quite possible,” Jenkins comments as Ezekiel picks up the gem and pockets it.

“Well, we should leave, right? I mean, there’s nothing else here,” Cassandra suggests.

“Man, I love it when things are easy,” Ezekiel comments as they begin to leave the open room.

As the group begins to make their exit, the sound of echoing footsteps causes them to stop in their tracks.

“You just had to say something, didn’t you, Mr. Jones?” Jenkins chastises.

As the group returned to the open chamber, they spotted a tall, imposing man descending the stairs towards them. His confident stance and impeccable posture spoke of self-assurance. He was clad in an impeccably tailored suit, adding to his commanding presence.

"Spencer," the man sneered in a taunting sing-song voice.

"There's no one here by that name, mate," Ezekiel retorted defiantly.

The man pulled out a collapsible baton, flicking it out with a menacing flourish. "Oh, come on," he taunted. "You think just because you look a little different, I wouldn't remember you from San Lorenzo?" He pointed the baton directly at Jacob, who met his gaze with steely determination.

Jacob turned to his team, his expression grave. "Get out of here," he instructed them firmly. "I'll hold him off."

Cassandra protested immediately, her voice filled with concern. "We can't just leave you here to face him alone, Jacob," she insisted.

Jacob placed a reassuring hand on Cassandra's shoulder. "I'll be fine, Cassie. But we need that gem," he reassured her. "Jenkins, get the others out of here. Call Baird if you have to, but we can't risk losing it."

Jenkins hesitated for a moment, studying Jacob's determined expression. "I will be back, Mr. Stone," he confirmed, ushering Cassandra and Ezekiel toward the exit as Jacob and the unknown man circled each other. Jacob shielding them from any attack that might come from the opposite man. 

With his team gone, Jacob turned his full attention to the stranger, his jaw clenched in anticipation. 

"That's more like it. A fair rematch, wouldn't you say, Spence?" the man taunted.

"Listen, man, I think you've got the wrong guy," Jacob protested, but the stranger only laughed, stepping forward to engage him in combat. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Raymond Shaw. Ring any bells?” the man said with a sneer.

“Not one.”

The two men circled each other warily once more, their exchanges of blows escalating in ferocity. Shaw's strikes were like lightning, his fists finding their mark with precision, while the baton swung with wide arcs, threatening to strike at any moment. A swift jab to Jacob's ribs, a powerful hook to his jaw—each blow aimed to incapacitate. Yet, Jacob stood firm, his defenses solid and his counterattacks precise. Despite the onslaught, he managed to deflect Shaw's punches and swings, retaliating with calculated strikes of his own. The sound of their punches landing resounded through the chamber as the intense struggle unfolded, neither man willing to yield.

"I never thought the great Eliot Spencer would get so soft." Shaw jeered as he landed a solid hit on Jacob, causing him to stagger.

Jacob gritted his teeth against the pain, blocking Shaw’s next attack and retaliating with a flurry of strikes of his own. Each blow landed with precision, the sound of metal against rib echoing.

As the fight reached its climax, Jacob summoned every ounce of strength he had left, delivering a final, devastating blow that sent his assailant crashing to the ground, unconscious.

“I don’t know who the fuck that is.” he growled under his breath towards the unconscious man.

Breathless and battered, Jacob leaned against the tunnel wall, relief flooding through him as Jenkins rushed back into the fray. "Took you long enough, Jenkins," he gasped, his voice ragged with exhaustion.

"Are you sure you’re okay, Jacob?" Cassandra asks, concern evident in her voice as she and Ezekiel support Stone's weight while making their way towards the backdoor.

"Just a bit sore... head's killing me," Jacob replies, his voice strained with discomfort.

"Your head?" Ezekiel scoffs. "You're holding your side like a rib is going to fall out."

Jacob chuckles slightly, causing a wince of pain. "Is that concern I hear in your voice, Jones?"

"What? No. Of course not," Ezekiel retorts, feigning offense.

As the group approaches the door, Jenkins takes the lead in setting it to return to the Annex. With a flash of blue light and the sound of thunder crashing, they step back into the all-too-familiar Annex.

"Man, Stone. Who knew you had those moves in ya," Jones exclaims excitedly.

"I don’t know, I guess my training with Baird is paying off," Jacob responds.

"Yes, Mr. Stone, I would have to agree with—" Jenkins begins but is interrupted by Cassandra's question.

"Mr. Jenkins? What’s wrong?" she asks, noticing his hesitation.

"It's gone," Jenkins announces, his voice filled with dismay.

"What’s gone?" Jacob asks, wincing as he sits down in a nearby chair.

"The clippings book, it's gone," Jenkins responds, his tone fraught with worry.

"How is that even possible?" Ezekiel interjects, moving closer to Jenkins along with Cassandra.

"It shouldn't be," Jenkins murmurs, visibly troubled.

"Maybe Baird has it?" Jones suggests, looking towards Colonel Baird as she enters the room.

"Maybe Baird has what?" she inquires, her tone laced with suspicion.

"Out of curiosity, would you have happened to move the clippings book?" Jenkins asks tentatively.

"Why would I do that?" Baird responds, her curiosity tinged with suspicion.

"Oh no. This isn’t good," Jenkins says despairingly.

"Can someone tell me what is going on?" Baird asks, stepping further into the room to assess the situation.

"The clippings book is gone," Jacob clarifies, his brows furrowing slightly.

"What happened to you?" Eve asks, her concern evident as she takes a few more steps into the room.

"It's nothing," Jacob tries to reassure, though his discomfort is evident.

"It is not nothing, Mr. Stone," Jenkins insists. "You were targeted, and the clippings book was stolen."

"Targeted?" Eve questions, her concern growing.

"I was not… targeted," Jacob protests, but his words lack conviction.

"Yeah, the guy seemed like a loon anyway. Besides, Jakey here handled him perfectly fine," Ezekiel adds nonchalantly.

“Cassandra, Jones, why don’t you take Stone over to where we keep our first aid kit. Help patch him up," Colonel Baird directs.

"Baird, I said I was fine," Jacob protests again, but his objections are dismissed.

"And I wasn’t asking. All of you, go," Baird orders, her tone leaving no room for argument.

As the trio of Librarians leaves the room, Ezekiel discreetly takes the glowing purple gem and hands it over to Eve, who nods in thanks. Once the Librarians are gone, Eve slowly approaches Jenkins, who sits with his head in his hands near where the clippings book should be.

“Jenkins, what happened out there?" Eve's tone is firm.

"There was a slight hiccup."

"A slight hiccup? Stone looks like he got hit with a bat."

"A baton, to be more precise."

"Jenkins, I asked you to watch over them."

"And I did, Colonel Baird. As per Mr. Stone’s wishes, I escorted Mr. Jones and Ms. Cillian out of harm's way. Once that was complete, I returned to Mr. Stone’s side."

"Yeah, I got Cassandra’s phone call. So why do you think the attack was targeted?"

"The assailant didn’t seem too interested in the gem that Marlowe’s grave led us to. The man didn’t even try to stop the rest of us from leaving; his attention was solely focused on Mr. Stone."

"Did you get a name?"

"Mr. Stone said that the man’s name was Richard Shaw."

"Richard Shaw? Have you ever heard of him before?"

"I have not. However, the man kept referring to Mr. Stone with a different name. A name which I was able to catch before Stone successfully rendered the man incapacitated."

"What was that?"

"He called him Eliot Spencer."

Chapter Text

Librarians POV

As Eve and Jenkins stood alone within the main room of the Annex, their gazes fixed on the spot where the clippings book used to rest. Colonel Baird paced the room intently as Jenkins debriefed her on their expedition back in Deptford.  

“So let me get this straight, Jenkins.” Baird’s voice sliced through the tense silence, her brow furrowed in confusion. “The four of you were stalked to Marlowe’s grave then ambushed by that same stalker who seemed to have it out for Stone.”

“It would appear so, Colonel Baird. My apologies, I thought that everything would be alright considering that we haven't heard from The Serpent Brotherhood in some time.”

“That is why we should be more on guard.” Eve sighed. “But alright… we have more pressing matters at the moment. So, what do you mean that this ‘Raymond Shaw’ called Jacob, ‘Eliot Spencer’? Could it be one of the names he published under?”

“That is what I heard, Colonel Baird,” Jenkins replied, his tone grave. “And that is not one of the previous names he used, no. He informed me all his work is now under his own name. However, I think we should be focusing on the elephant in the room, or lack thereof, as the Clippings Book is not in the Library.”

“How can we be certain? What if it moved? Things tend to do that around here,” Eve mused, her mind already considering the possibilities.

“It is a possibility, yes, but in my experience, that book doesn’t stray too far,” the older man reasoned, his eyes scanning the room as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the elusive tome.

“I thought the Annex had its own security, how would anyone be able to break in and steal something?” 

“It does,” Jenkins confirmed, his expression tightening with concern. “Then it must be someone the book could trust.”

“How can a book trust someone?” Eve scoffed, her skepticism evident.

“Colonel Baird, the Clippings book is a magical tome. Is it so hard to believe that besides having magical properties it might also have a preference towards people?” 

“We’ll find the book, Jenkins, I promise. It just adds to the complication now that we have to get another book out of the hands of a criminal while trying to figure out why someone would want to target Jacob.” Eve sighed exasperatedly.

Jacob, Ezekiel, and Cassandra strode back into the large room of the Annex, their expressions a mix of various emotions. Jacob, flanked by the others, bore evidence of his recent fight—a bandage wrapped around his hand, and he held an ice pack against his bruised cheek.

“Nobody's comin’ after me, Baird. I'm good,” Jacob grumbled, his posture betraying a hint of discomfort as he leaned against a nearby desk, seeking its support without making it too obvious.

“The man was a troppo.” Ezekiel added as he made his way to stand by Jenkin’s side, 

“A what-o?” Cassandra inquired, positioning herself between Jacob and Eve.

“A loony. A madman,” Jones clarified, shooting a glance back at Eve. “He was cackling like a lunatic while swinging a bat around.”

“A baton, technically,” Cassandra interjected, prompting a smirk and a stifled chuckle from Jacob.

“Semantics. The point is, Jakey boy handled himself just fine. And we scored the gem from Marlowe’s bogus grave, so now we can stash it in his diary. Win-win, if you ask me!” Ezekiel declared, his optimism unwavering.

“No, Mr. Jones, this is far from a ‘win-win’. Let's not forget that the Clippings Book has vanished!” Jenkins exclaimed, frustration evident as he threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Don’t we have a device or spell or something that could find it?” 

Jenkins glanced towards the group, his expression bordering on flabbergasted. “Yes, I may have something I can... put together that could essentially help me locate the Clippings Book,” he muttered loud enough for all to hear..

“Perfect! Well, in the meantime, the four of us will meet with Tom Baker and his supposed team to see what their ‘plan’ is exactly,” Eve declared, her tone forcefully cheerful, her eyes betraying her concern.

“Woah, hold up. We’re doin’ what?” Jacob asked, surprised as he lifted himself off of the desk behind him to move closer to the Colonel.

“We’re going to meet with Baker and his team, to see exactly what he is trying to offer us.” Eve explained calmly.

“His team ?” Jacob repeated, pinching the bridge of his nose momentarily as he could feel a slight migraine forming. “Weren't you the one that said he was a con man? Shouldn’t we, I dunno, not deal with him?”
 

Cassandra bit her lip, noticing Jacob's discomfort at the mention of Baker. She approached him cautiously, wrapping her arm around his as a silent gesture of support. He looked at her with a slightly puzzled expression, but she smiled softly back at him.

“Eve, is that really a good idea? He seemed kind of… icky,” Cassandra voiced her concern, her gaze flickering between Eve and Jacob.

“Yeah, I agree with Cassandra, the guy’s a total weirdo. I mean, come on, that suit with that tie? Guy is a total liar,” Ezekiel chimed in.

“You can tell if someone is lying by the tie they’re wearing?” Eve raised an eyebrow, her skepticism clear.

“What can I say? It’s a distinctive type of tie,” Ezekiel shrugged.

Jacob shook his head, amused. “There’s no way a tie can be that ‘distinctive’ that all liars wear it. If that were the case, you should have a few in your closet.”

“My point still stands,” Ezekiel retorted, refusing to back down. “What caused you to change your mind anyways?”

“I haven’t changed my opinion on him, but someone I do trust did vouch for him, and that's what I'm going on,” Eve explained firmly.

“Your contact… uh… that Sterling guy?” Jacob inquired warily.

“Yes. Jim said he can vouch for him, that Baker doesn’t want to cause us any trouble, and only wants to help,” Eve confirmed.

“Likely story,” Ezekiel scoffed. “No one does something just out of the goodness of their heart. They want something. They just didn’t tell us what that something is.”

Eve sighed. “It’s an opportunity, Jones. Sterling gave us tickets to the auction. We have no clue what kind of person we’re up against, except that he’s a criminal. Jim said that Baker and his team went up against him before. This is invaluable intel we can’t just pass up. So… are we in agreement?”

Jacob, Cassandra, Ezekiel, and even Jenkins grumbled softly, reluctantly conceding to Eve's reasoning.

“Perfect. Alright, Jenkins.”

“Yes, Colonel Baird?”

“The four of us will meet with Baker and his team. Meanwhile, you stay here and try to figure out a way to locate that Clippings Book. If by chance it was taken out of the Annex, we need to get it back ASAP.”

“Already on it, Colonel. Leave it to me,” Jenkins replied as he gathered a strange device and the pedestal the book used to lay on, then departed from the main room of the Annex.

“Great. Alright, Librarians, with me,” Eve commanded, leading the way out of the Annex. After a moment, she glanced back and saw the remaining three standing around, exchanging skeptical looks. “Come on, we don’t have all day,” she prompted, urging the trio to follow.

“Are you okay, Jacob?” Cassandra whispered to her colleague as they exited, finding themselves underneath the bridge entrance to the Annex.

“Yeah, Cassie,” Jacob chuckled. “Wouldn’t be the first time I was beat up.”

“No, that isn’t… that wasn’t what I meant,” Cassandra murmured softly, her concern evident.

"I know," Jacob sighed, his voice heavy with frustration. "Yes, the headaches are still there. They still… hurt. However, it’s my head trying to remember things. I ‘m just… worried that if these things are bad, and that's why it’s hurtin’."

“So you think that Mr. Baker and this whole meeting might be a bad idea?” Cassandra asked, her concern palpable as she subtly brushed the back of his hand with hers.

“I’m not sure what I think anymore,” Jacob admitted, his uncertainty evident. “However, what I do know,” he continued quietly, reciprocating the gesture by brushing the back of her hand. “Is that I like working with you… you and the others as well… of course,” he added quickly, clearing his throat.

Cassandra smiled warmly. “I like working with you too, Jacob.”

The sun had set once more by the time The Librarians and their Guardian arrived at the pub where Eve had originally met with James Sterling. Jacob courteously held the door open, allowing Eve and Cassandra to enter first, followed by Ezekiel. Once inside, they found the establishment unusually empty, with only Sterling waiting for them.

“Colonel,” the British man greeted Eve with a nod before turning his attention to the others, his gaze lingering on Jacob. “Follow me. They’re waiting for you upstairs.”

The group followed the man up the stairs, and Jacob couldn't help but wonder what awaited them. He had expected an apartment, but as they entered, he was greeted by a surprising sight—a bar-top conference table facing a large six-monitor display. A slight flash accompanied by a sharp pain in his skull jolted him, and suddenly, a barrage of images flooded his mind. To his right, he spotted Alice on one side and Tom Baker on the other. Another flash ensued. A tall darker man stood before the display, delivering a presentation of sorts. Yet another flash, and Jacob found himself standing in front of the display, an unfamiliar energy drink commercial playing on the screens. Was that him in the video? Another flash, and then… he heard a voice… a familiar voice. Calming. Asking him a question.

He felt a cool hand on the side of his face and he felt himself jolted back to the present. Cassandra was standing in front of with curiosity and worry in her eyes. “Jacob?” she said, her voice quiet and calm. “Did you hear me?”

“I-I’m sorry… what?”

“I asked, ‘What distinguishes the Ionic order from the Doric and Corinthian orders in Greek architecture?’” Her voice is still calm and steady.

Jacob placed a hand on hers, that still lay on his cheek. He glances and sees the others in the room, there’s a lot more people here, looking at the two of them. “I-I don’t see why that’s import-”

“Just answer the question, Jacob.” Cassandra says in a more stern voice. “What distinguishes the Ionic order from the Doric and Corinthian orders in Greek architecture?”

Jacob takes a deep breath and focuses on the woman in front of him. “T-the Ionic order is characterized by volutes… or spiral ornaments, on the capital of its columns, while the Doric order features a simple, sturdy capital with no ornamentation… and the Corinthian order showcases intricate floral motifs on its capital.” He explains in a quiet voice, feeling his breathing even out, something he didn’t notice was erratic.

“Feeling better?” she asks, giving him a reassuring smile.

Jacob nods. “Thank you, Cassie.”

“Of course.” she removes her hand from his cheek, where her hand was, now feeling slightly colder than it should be.

Jacob shifted his gaze towards the others in the room, feeling a flush of embarrassment tinge his cheeks. Not only were his teammates and friends regarding him with concern, but also the unfamiliar faces in the room. There was Colonel Baird’s contact, Sterling, of course. However, he also caught sight of Tom Baker and Alice out of the corner of his eye, standing alongside the tall darker man from the flash, and the woman he saw at the gallery. Both of them seemed more familiar than they should. Jacob cleared his throat, hating the attention his momentary episode had drawn.

“Uh… sorry.” 

“Stone,” Baird said in a hushed manner, as she took a step closer towards Jacob. “You can go back and help Jenkins if-”

“I’m fine.” he cut her off.

Colonel Baird stared at him for a moment, not helping the coloring on his cheeks. After a moment, she simply just nodded.

Jacob breathed a sigh of relief as Baker cleared his throat, drawing attention away from him and toward the other man.

"Let's begin, shall we?" Baker's voice cut through the tension, his gaze sweeping across the room and pausing briefly on Jacob.

He gestured for everyone to take a seat at the long conference table, its length barely accommodating the crowd. With the addition of extra chairs, the space felt cramped, and everyone seemed practically stacked on top of each other.

The three Librarians (in training) settled into their seats. Ezekiel occupied the far left end of the table, with Jacob two seats over to his right, and Cassandra seated between them. Colonel Baird, preferring to stand, positioned herself behind them. This arrangement left four vacant seats to Jacob's right.

At the opposite end of the table, the familiar woman sat, accompanied by Sterling who stood nearby against the wall, wearing a smirk as if relishing the scene. Beside the woman, Alice cast nervous glances in Jacob's direction. To her left, and Jacob's right, sat the man whose image lingered in Jacob's fragmented memories. Jacob couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something crucial here. Sitting next to this man, he felt a pang of guilt at his inability to recall his name.

“Hey, man. Name’s Jacob.” Jacob said to the taller man as he sat down.

“Alec.” the man said, and Jacob didn’t miss the sad smile Alec gave him in return.

“Listen,” Jacob said in a more hushed tone, leaning in slightly. “Have we… have we met before because man, you don’t meet many Alec’s, and I swear we were-” 

“Nah man.” Alec chuckled, patting Jacob on the shoulder in the process. “Trust me, Alec is a pretty common name. You probably just mixin’ me up with some other dashingly handsome Alec you know.”

Jacob’s smile dropped instantly, and he straightened up his back. “Right… must be that…” he said with his tone neutral. He knew when he was being lied to, and that Alec wasn’t the only one who was lying to him.

~*~

Leverage POV

After slipping away undetected from that weird library of Eliot’s, housed under a bridge, Parker quickly returned to the pub, skillfully evading the Colonel en route. Ascending the stairs to their office, she found her teammates (and Sterling) gathered around the long table where they hold their meetings. Without a second thought, she pushed her way through the huddled group and placed the equally weird and strange book atop the files that the others were previously looking through. Glancing briefly at the monitors against the wall, she saw what appeared to be blueprints of the gallery on display.

“Well, that could have gone a lot worse than it did.” Parker said, not paying attention, or caring about the looks the others were giving her.

“Whatcha got there, Parker?” Nate asked curiously, as he peered over at the large leatherbound book.

“Oh, just a book I got from Eliot.” she replied, looking up at him. She shrugged nonchalantly as she began to flip through the large pages

“Mama, did you get that from Eliot, or did you steal it?” Hardison asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t steal it from Eliot… it was just sitting there and then there was something weird coming from it.”

“So, you did steal it then.” Sophie stated with an amused smirk.

"I mean, if we're being technical about it, sure," she responded casually. Parker ignored the stares she received as she began flipping through the large book.

"What is this? A scrapbook?" Sterling jumped in, almost taking the book out of Parker’s grasp, only to get his hand slapped away by Hardison.

"So this book," Parker continued, not looking up but smiling at the sound of Sterling’s hand being slapped. "Only has weird and random articles or flyers or… whatever."

"How so?" Nate asked, eyeing her curiously.

Parker flipped through the book, landing on a newspaper clipping. "This article mentions the disappearance of Victor Finch, and that aliens might be involved," she flipped to another page. "This one is a flier to a poster for the Chicagoland STEM Fair, sponsored by the McCabe Learning Foundation," she flipped the page again and aggressively pointed a few times. "This one, here took place back in Eliot’s hometown, a cave-in at an oil-rig site."

"Wait, didn't Eliot’s father own an oil rig in that town?" Sophie asked suspiciously.

"Yeah…," Hardison confirmed. "What the hell?"

"Hold on, that isn’t the reason why I took this," Parker added.

"Then what was the reason?" Nate asked. "None of the events in this book have anything in common."

Before Parker could respond, the large book before them all began to shake violently, causing everyone in the room to take a step back. Without anyone touching it, the pages began to flip before their very eyes, landing on the news article about the journal.

"That’s why," Parker said, eyes never leaving the book.

"Okay, what the hell was that?" Hardison all but yelled.

"I think the book is magic," muttered Parker, eyes wide with delight.

"There is no such thing as magic," Nate stated firmly.

"Then how do you explain that? It would make sense, right? I mean, think of it, they magically teleported from Portland, Oregon to England and then back! And now this book magically moves pages by itself!"

"Parker," Sophie said calmly, "There must be some reason to explain that it isn’t magic, I mean come on," she finished with a nervous chuckle.

"She’s right… I mean, magic just isn’t real," Nate added exasperatedly. His eyes scanned the room attempting to get some sort of backup. His eyes landed on Sterling.

"I’m not getting involved," Sterling said, raising his hands and walking away from the group.

"We’ll… figure this out later," Nate said with a groan of protest. "But, that book cannot be out here when these librarians get here. So… put it somewhere safe. They won’t trust us if they know we stole something of theirs."

Nate walked away from his team and over towards his liquor cabinet, pouring himself a double of his favorite whiskey. He took a deep breath before taking a sip and walking back to the group. "Alright," he continued with a sigh. "There’s no way they don’t know about the book being missing by now… Hardison, can you tell me what’s going on in there?"

“Alright, give me a second and I’ll turn the mic back on.”

“Why do you keep turning it off?”

“Because it’s an invasion of privacy man, what are you talking about?” Hardison asks, as his fingers begin typing on the keyboard.

“Since when do you care about the privacy of others?” Nate chuckled to himself while taking a long sip of his whiskey.

“When it’s my friends, I care, Nate. When it comes to people that matter.”

“Well if something bad happens, we need to know, so we can pull him out.” Nate counters.

“Pull him out- Nate, the man doesn’t even know who we are!”

Just…” Nate sighs, “Just turn it on.”

“Whatever man.”

Hardison takes a moment to turn the microphone on Eliot’s phone back on. At first they hear nothing, but then they hear an all too familiar sound of Eliot wincing in pain, causing them to look instantly over to where the audio was coming out from.

“Are you okay, Jacob?” they hear the concern in Cassandra’s voice.

“Yeah, Cass, I keep tellin’ ya I’m fine and-” 

“Ezekiel?” Cassandra says, cutting Eliot off. “Would you mind getting the gauze, oh and an ice pack from Jenkin’s office? The gauze is in the emergency kit, actually just bring the whole kit with you, please?”

“Sure, whatever.” They hear Ezekiel reply casually and then his footsteps receding.

“Listen, Cassie,” Eliot starts once more as the footsteps are far away. “I’m okay, really. A little banged up, but I’ll be fine. You worry about me too much.”

“No, Jacob.” Cassandra sighs, “I don’t think you’re worried enough. You were targeted.”

“It was a case of mistaken identity.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“The man called me Eliot Spencer, and the last time I checked, I ain’t him, and he ain’t me.”

There was a long pause of silence causing the Leverage team to tense and look between each other. After the silence, the sound of slight movement could be heard between Eliot and Cassandra.

“What if he is?” Cassandra asked softly, sounding closer.

“What do you mean?” Eliot asked equally as softly, surprising the team as they never heard their Hitter speak so intimately before. 

“It’s just… you told me yourself.. You don’t quite remember a few things from your past, because of that accident. Maybe that man knows you as this Eliot Spencer person?”

Eliot chuckled softly, the sound of slight movement following once more. “I remember all my aliases… Dr. Oliver Thompson, James McKelvie, even Griffin Griffould. Why would I remember them, but not Eliot Spencer?”

“Maybe something bad happened to Eliot, and it could be some sort of post-traumatic amnesia?”

“That’s what the docs thought I might be experiencing after I woke up in the hospital…”

“They did?”

“Yeah… was in my chart. I read it before I was discharged.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You got nothin’ to apologize for, Cassie.” they hear Eliot sigh. “With everythin’ that’s been going on, I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“Well I can answer that question for you.” Cassandra said, after another brief pause.

“You can?”

“Yes. I can tell you that no matter what aliases you’ve used. You’ll always be Jacob Stone. And the Jacob Stone I know is extremely intelligent, thoughtful, kind, and will do whatever he can to help his friends and the people. You are someone that I can rely on, trust, and someone that I l-...like very much.”

“Oh?” they heard Eliot all but whisper. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“Oh. No, no Cassie. Don’t be sorry. I… like you very much as well.” Eliot chuckled awkwardly.

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

There was another pause, slightly longer than the last, then the sound of faint movement. Sophie placed a hand over her mouth as she tried to listen closer to the audio.

“What is happening?” Sophie asked in a whispered gleeful voice.

“I got the gauze- ah! Jeez, get a room, you two! I was gone for like a minute!” The team hears Ezekiel yell, causing Sophie (and Sterling) to jump slightly, based on how quiet the conversation was until then.

“Oh!” Cillian exclaims as she startles, they hear that she takes a few steps away from Eliot. “Th-thank you for getting the gauze. Um.. I was just making sure the cuts on Jacob’s hand weren't getting infected.”

Jones laughs, “By checking with your lips on his? I ain’t stupid.”

“Dammit, Jones!” they hear Eliot growl. 

The all too familiar retort from Eliot, causes Hardison’s shoulder’s to slump. “Now that just sounds wrong, ‘Dammit, Jones’? Nah, man. It’s ‘Dammit, Hardison. Har-di-son.” he sighs.

“Hardison,” Nate calls plainly. “Turn the audio off.”

“Did we really hear what I think we heard?” Sophie asks, trying and failing to hide her obvious glee.

“Does Eliot have a girlfriend?” Asks Parker abruptly.

“Oh. My. God!” Sophie exclaimed, “Our Eliot has a girlfriend!”

Sterling scoffed at the Grifter’s excitement. 

“Alright, enough. Parker, hide that book somewhere. We gotta get this place ready. We’ll be having a few extra guests here for our meeting.” Nate announced.

“Wait,” Sophie called, causing Nate to look back towards her. “What if Eliot recognizes us?”

“We just got to keep up the lie a little longer. He knows me as Tom Baker and Parker as Alice White.” Nate shrugged in indifference. “So we can keep going with that for the time being. You and Hardison can come up with something, but act as if this is the first time meeting him, got it? We’ll be good to tell him everything once we clear him from Keller’s path.”

“Makes me feel all kinds of dirty, man.” Hardison grumbles.

“Hardison,” Nate says, turning his attention to the hacker. “The man that attacked Eliot, you got something?”

“Yeah, took a little digging, but not as much as everything else I have been sifting through these past few days.”

“Whatcha got?”

“Richard Shaw.” Hardison began, bringing the man’s picture on the screen. “Wasn’t much available, just some hospital and arrest records back from when we worked the Moreau job back in San Lorenzo. He was new to Moreau’s payroll at the time. Eliot knocked him on his ass pretty good based on the man’s charts. However, once Moreau was behind bars, and Shaw was released from his prison sentence for good behavior, he relocated to… England.”

“Where in England?”

“Take a wild guess.” Hardison stated dryly.

“Deptford.” answered Sterling.

“Yeah.” Hardison said with a nod.

“So Eliot did get to England by magic?” questioned Parker.

“No such thing as magic, Parker.” Nate scolded lightly.

“Yes there is.” she definitely said loudly as she left the main room to hide the book in another room nearby.

The Leverage team (and Sterling) had finished setting up for the librarians to arrive. Parker helped Hardison bring some extra chairs from downstairs that fit the height of the conference table. Nate kept refilling his drink and earning himself more than just a few annoyed glances from Sophie. After everything was set up and in place, Sterling received that text from the Colonel, informing him that she and her team had arrived. Promptly, he went downstairs to collect them. 

Each one of them could feel the anxious air that surrounded them as they all heard the footsteps come up the stairs. Eliot was the last one to enter the room. Nate watched the Hitter’s expression as he entered the room, first surprise, then shock, then…pain? They all watched as Eliot swayed slightly, Nate gently grabbed Sophie by the arm to prevent her from going to the other man’s side. Luckily he did, because he saw Cillian rush to Eliot.

“Jacob, are you alright?” the redhead asked, receiving no response.

“Stone, what’s wrong?” the Colonel stepped in, attempting to reach for his shoulder, only to be stopped by the younger woman.

“Eve. Don’t.” 

“Cassandra…”

“Just… please.” Cillian, Cassandra turned her attention back towards Eliot, brow furrowed with concern. “Jacob, can you tell me what distinguishes the Iconic order from the Doric and Corinthian orders in Greek architecture?” 

Nate and his team exchanged puzzled glances as Cassandra had asked Eliot her question. Sterling's gaze shifts curiously to Eliot, and Nate senses the gears turning in his former friend's mind. When Eliot didn’t respond, Cassandra looked at him more concerned. She placed her hand on the side of his face, which caused him to startle slightly, but look up at her.

“Jacob,” she asked in a quiet voice. “Did you hear me?”

“I-I’m sorry… what?” Eliot finally responded.

“I asked, ‘What distinguishes the Ionic order from the Doric and Corinthian orders in Greek architecture?’” 

With a gentle gesture that was new for them to see from their Hitter, they watched as Eliot placed a hand over the one she had on his cheek. “I-I don’t see why that’s import-”

“Just answer the question, Jacob.” Cassandra said, getting his attention back on her. “What distinguishes the Ionic order from the Doric and Corinthian orders in Greek architecture?”

Eliot took a deep breath. His voice sounded slightly broken by how his voice was so quiet. “T-the Ionic order is characterized by volutes… or spiral ornaments, on the capital of its columns, while the Doric order features a simple, sturdy capital with no ornamentation… and the Corinthian order showcases intricate floral motifs on its capital.” 

“Feeling better?” Cassandra asks him, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Thank you, Cassie.” Eliot responds with a shallow nod.

“Of course.” she said, moving her hand off his cheek.

Nate watched as Eliot looked towards the others in the room, clearly feeling embarrassment from the red color tinging his cheeks. Didn’t help that everyone was looking at him with concern, even Sterling to Nate’s surprise.

“Uh… sorry.” Eliot said, breaking the silence.

“Stone,” The Colonel muttered when she took a step closer towards Eliot, saying something low enough that the others couldn’t hear. 

“I’m fine.” he said, cutting off anything she was saying.

Colonel Baird simply stepped back and nodded.

Feeling uncomfortable with the tension and awkwardness, Nate felt the need to draw attention to himself. "Let's begin, shall we?"

The conference table was a bit crowded with everyone gathered around, despite himself, the Colonel, and Sterling all preferring to stand. Nate's eyes stayed on Eliot as everyone was getting settled into their seats. He couldn’t help but listen in as he saw Eliot lean in towards Hardison.

“Listen,” Eliot said in a hushed tone, “Have we… have we met before because man, you don’t meet many Alecs, and I swear we were-” 

“Nah man.” Hardison forced a chuckle, “Trust me, Alec is a pretty common name. You probably just mixin’ me up with some other dashingly handsome Alec you know.”

Nate didn’t miss the way Eliot’s smile dropped instantly. His posture and tone became closed off and cold after that. “Right… must be that…” 

Nate cleared his throat to get the attention of both the parties. “Alright, well geez, this is a lot of people. Let me just start off by saying welcome.” He paused and took a moment to look around the room, eyeing how the Colonel crossed her arms.

“Anyways. As you know, my name is Tom Baker, and these are my associates, some of which you met.” 

Nate then pointed to the others, starting from the opposite end of the table of which the librarians were seated at.

“You know Sterling. This is uh.”

“Katherine.” Sophie said effortlessly going into her role.

“Right,” Nate continued. “You’ve all met Alice. And this here is-”

“Alec.” Eliot said in a cold tone, causing Hardison to grimace slightly.  

Nate motioned towards Hardison to start the presentation.

“Well… great now we know each other, let’s get started.” Nate continued, trying not to let the awkward silence linger. “We’re looking at Mr. John Douglas Keller, owner and proprietor of the one journal of Christopher Marlowe. The auction for that as well as other pieces will be set up to be sold at auction in just a few-”

“I’m sorry, but what is it that you are getting out of this?” The Colonel asked loudly, drawing the attention of the room to her.

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, I know what we are after, and I assume you know as well considering James is the one that advised us to work with you. But that doesn’t explain what it is you’re after, and why it is you’re helping us.” she continued, crossing her arms and glaring with evident suspicion.

“Well, Keller is a criminal and deserves to be held accountable for his crimes.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. What is in it for you?”

“Colonel Baird. Eve. If I may,” Sterling interjects, pushing himself off the wall he was previously leaning on, and walking towards where Nate is standing. “Believe it or not, but Tom here as well as his team is assisting me on a confidential case with Interpol. As the classified nature, as well as the crimes Keller has committed in the past, he can only reveal so much.”

Nate looked over at Sterling with surprise for just a moment, before schooling his features. “That is right, Colonel. I wish I could go into more detail as to why my team and I are helping James with his case, but I can’t. I hope you understand.”

“I guess I’ll have to. For now.” she stated simply.

“Alright!” Nate clapped his hands together enthusiastically. “Now, we're on the same page. Let’s go over a few things. The auction is going on tomorrow, so we have tonight and tomorrow to prepare, so pay attention.”

Nate went into his meticulous and detailed plan of how the heist was going to go. Showing the large group various blueprints and semantics of how the gallery was laid out. All with the accompanying indications of where security cameras, motion detectors, keycard locked doors, as well as security schedule. Everything was laid out in front of them. Parker had answered infiltration questions posed by the librarian’s resident thief, Ezekiel Jones. Considering what Nate has read about the other man, he was good, not as good as Parker, but still good.

When it came to discussing equipment that both teams would be using, Nate couldn’t help the slight amusement when Hardison and Cassandra Cillian ‘geeked out’, as Hardison would have put it over their equipment. Cillian was impressed by how their comms worked so efficiently despite distance and various material they would be surrounded by in the field, which only led to more excitement on the red head’s part.

The Colonel was constantly questioning Nate’s plan, which was starting to get on his nerves. He promised Sophie he wouldn’t drink while the other group was here, but that promise was getting oh so closer to being broken. He tried to answer all questions that the stick in the mud had, and even when he didn’t have an answer for her, Sterling, surprising himself and the others on team Leverage, defended his plan. If Sterling wasn’t here, the Colonel probably would have never even given a thought of coming here in the first place. Her distrust of him was clearly evident. He couldn’t blame her, he wouldn’t trust himself if he was her.

Towards the end of the joint meeting, Sophie (or Katherine) took over to go over which roles everyone was going to play. Parker and Eliot will be partnered up with Ezekiel. Eliot acting as a lookout, and muscle as needed for the thieves. Sophie will be posing as a buyer with Cassandra, acting as rich socialites. Sterling will be with Hardison in the van, watching over cameras and ensuring authorities won’t get alerted until they are out. Leaving himself with the Colonel. 

Neither of them liked the idea, although only Colonel Baird voiced it. Despite not wanting to be paired with her, Nate needed her closeby and as the ‘arresting officer’ when they nabbed Keller for illegal smuggling, which the man refused to give up despite what happened next time. Her former position with NATO would help him get locked up for longer this time. He was going to let her take the lead on the arrest, and hope to any powerful being, that Keller wouldn’t recognize him, or run into Eliot at all during the job. 

Once the meeting concluded and all plans were set, the Colonel wasted no time ushering the librarians out, with her lingering behind. As they exited, Eliot mentioned he was heading home, offering little explanation beyond not feeling up to staying to go out to eat with the others. Shortly after, Parker and Hardison left after tidying up the chairs, followed by Sophie not long after. Nate sighed as he noticed Sterling lingering. It left just the two of them.

“He’ll resent you, you know.” Sterling said, words lacking his usual sarcastic wit.

“What are you talking about?” Nate responded as he filled his glass high with scotch and downing it before filling it up again. 

“Eliot, or Jacob for that matter.” the suited man replied, walking over towards Nate, keeping a few feet of distance between them.
 

“Why do you think that?”

“Look at how you're treating the man. Like some fragile child. The Eliot Spencer I know would hate to ever be thought of as weak.”

“Never thought you were a fan of him.” Nate responded dryly. 

“Trust me, I’m not. However if I was in that situation, I would hope my friends wouldn't be the ones lying to me. Maybe he was right not to trust you lot after all. I mean, you couldn’t have not noticed how little he interacted with your little group or the anger was clearly plastered on his face.”

“I know what I’m doing. I don’t need your help.” he said, filling his drink up for the second time.

“You don't? Could have surprised me. Spencer got out. And you dragged him back in.” Sterling’s cocky tone was back, but sounded more annoyed than his usual banter. 
 

“I didn’t do that! They did. I suggested it would be best for him to forget us and move on with his life. But no. Now that we’re dealing with Keller, cards are off the table. I was out, and they dragged me back in and the cycle is just repeating now.”

“So to remedy it, you keep up the façade and hope he doesn’t remember you at all?

“I don’t know.” Nate responded slightly to Sterling and slightly to his drink.

“I've been watching the way he looks at you and your team. He knows something isn’t right. Nate. I’ve seen his profile, the same one that your hacker has dug up for you. You’re treating him like he isn’t as smart as he is. He knows something isn't adding up.“ 

“Why do you care, Sterling? All of the sudden you’re acting like you care about Eliot?” Nate turns around at the sound of Sterling sighing. 

“I honestly couldn’t answer that question, Nate. Before I read Mr. St- hm… Spencer’s profile. I was only viewing him as the man that I knew, the brute. However, I have a feeling that isn’t something he particularly enjoyed.”

“And what? You think I’ve just been treating him as what? A piece of meat to be hit?” Nate asked, getting more frustrated and annoyed.

“Not intentionally, Nate.”

“Then what?!” 

Sterling sighed, as he looked down briefly before looking back up towards Nate. “I don’t know. Truly. I feel… bad for Spencer. And believe me, the feeling surprised even myself.”

“Wha-”

“He has a job, friends, and possibly even a new flame. A happy ending to his story, but considering his past, and what is going on now. It doesn’t seem like he’ll get that. Just a thought.” Sterling finished with a shrug. 

As Nate remained silent, only fixing a steady gaze on the other man, Sterling turned and departed, leaving Nate in solitude. Nate couldn't help but scoff at Sterling's parting words. Downing his refilled glass in a single gulp, he welcomed the slight burn down his throat. Anger surged within Nate as the door closed behind Sterling, prompting him to slam the glass down, watching it shatter into a million pieces.

 ~*~

Jacob’s POV

After the meeting with Baker’s team, as well as his own. He didn’t feel like he had the energy to go out to dinner as Ezekiel suggested. He felt tired. Drained even. He decided instead to go to a bar on the other side of town, away from where he’s been having the headaches. The dimly lit bar buzzed with chatter and laughter, the air heavy with the scent of alcohol and the low hum of conversation. Jacob found himself seated at the worn wooden counter, a glass of whiskey clenched tightly in his hand. Despite the meticulous planning of the heist, intending to retrieve Marlowe's journal, a heavy cloud of confusion hung over him as he failed to wrap his mind around the fragmented memories that came rushing back to him back when he was with Baker and his team.

"Why did Shaw call me Eliot?" Jacob mumbled to himself, his brow furrowed in frustration. "That's not my name. I don't know who Eliot is. My name is Jacob… I’ve never gone by the name Eliot before… right?"

Lost in his swirling thoughts, Jacob barely noticed the newcomer who sidled up beside him at the bar. He shrugged off the pat on his shoulder, preferring to drown his confusion in alcohol rather than engage in conversation.

"And another one of what my friend is having," the newcomer announced to the bartender, gesturing towards Jacob's glass. 

"I ain’t your friend. But I'll take the free drink," Jacob muttered, his tone curt and distant.

The stranger chuckled, unperturbed by Jacob's aloofness. "Jacob, what are you talking about? We go way back."

Jacob, for the first time looked up and his attention solely on the man besides him. He noticed the sly grin, his features reminiscent of a suave and sophisticated businessman. His dark hair is impeccably styled, framing his sharp, angular face. With piercing dark eyes that seem to see right through him. The man exudes an air of confidence and authority. Dressed in a tailored suit that hugs his frame perfectly, with a presence that commands attention in the crowded bar. His posture is relaxed yet poised, radiating an aura of power and control. There was also a distinct hint of danger in his smile.

"We do?" Jacob responded, after analyzing the man, skepticism lacing his words. "Then why do I have no clue who you are?"

The man's laughter was warm and familiar, stirring something deep within Jacob's memory. The memory didn’t hurt this time, although it was just out of grasp. He remembered that laughter.

"Well, you did get hit on the head very hard. I'm not surprised. You know, when your father said you had an accident, and you had some memory issues, I didn't expect you to lose the memory of me as well. I’m hurt."

Jacob's mind raced, trying to piece together fragments of recollection. He could only stare at the handsome man.

"We were in each other's company for years, Jacob," the man continued, his voice gentle yet insistent.

"Nah, see, you got the wrong guy," Jacob protested, his confusion evident. "I never left Oklahoma after I came back from my tour. Kept to the family business. That's what my pops said."

The man's smile faltered slightly, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features. "And your father was always honest? I recall you saying how he would always lie through his teeth, why would it be any different now?"

Jacob shook his head, struggling to grasp the truth amidst the haze of uncertainty. "We met after your tour, Jacob," the man persisted, his tone coaxing. "Don't you remember Belgrade, Spain? The baseball card?" With a gentle touch, the man reached forward, running his hand through Jacob’s hair. “Hmm… I like the hair… it suits you. Much better than when you grew it out.” Slowly, he withdrew his hand, leaving Jacob bewildered by the encounter, his expression a mix of shock and confusion.

Jacob's mind groped for the memories, grasping at straws in a sea of confusion. He blinked, trying to clear the fog that clouded his thoughts. "Were we...?" he trailed off, his voice uncertain.

"Partners? Well, of course," the man replied with a knowing grin and a wink. "We also traveled the world together doing business."

"How did you find me?" Jacob asked, his curiosity piqued.

The man chuckled softly, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Well, I was in town, visiting the art gallery the other day, and you actually bumped into me."

Jacob's eyes widened in realization and laughed, the feeling of unease going away. "That was you? Man, I was kinda out of it to be perfectly honest with you."

The man laughed in response, a rich sound that echoed through the bar. "No worries, my friend. Let me reintroduce myself to you. I'm Damien. Damien Moreau." 

"Jacob Stone," he replied, extending a hand in greeting.

"Well, it is certainly nice to re-make your acquaintance, Jacob," Damien said, clasping Jacob's hand firmly in his own. "Allow me to fill in some gaps for you." 

As he speaks, his voice is smooth and melodic, carrying a subtle undertone of menace that sends shivers down Jacob's spine. Despite the casual setting, Damien carries himself with an air of refinement and elegance, leaving no doubt that he's a force to be reckoned with.

Chapter Text

Librarian’s POV

It was the day of the scheduled heist for Christopher Marlowe’s journal. As per Tom Baker’s instructions to Colonel Baird’s team, they were to arrive back at the pub early in the morning to prepare for the night ahead and to get acquainted with the technology they would be using for the heist. When the Colonel briefed Jenkins on the situation, he was less than thrilled. Eve suggested that Jenkins attend the final preparations meeting with them, but as the older man had just finished the device to help locate the clippings book, he said he couldn’t spare the time, confident he’d be able to locate the book before the end of the day.

“Ugh. Why do we have to meet so early in the morning? The auction isn’t until tonight,” Ezekiel groaned as he, Cassandra, and Baird approached the meeting place.

“When you planned jobs in the past, didn’t you need to make sure everything was prepared correctly?” Cassandra countered. “Besides, it isn’t early. It’s a little past eight in the morning.”

“That’s early for me, mate. And I don’t need to make sure I’m ‘prepared correctly.’ I’m Ezekiel Jones. I’m awesome.”

“Right.” Cassandra conceded with a slight chuckle.

“And if I’m being wrongfully subjected to this type of treatment, where the heck is Stone?”

“I’m here!” Jacob ran up to the group from the other end of the street, meeting them directly in front of the pub’s doors. “I’m here.”

“And where were you?”

“Yeah, Stone. Being late isn’t like you. What happened?” Baird questioned, a hint of concern in her voice.

“I was out late, caught up with an old friend,” Jacob explained.

“An old friend?” Cassandra inquired.

“Yeah… I decided to get a drink last night and ran into an old buddy of mine from before I enlisted.”

“You went out drinking instead of going out to dinner with us?” Ezekiel scoffed.

“I didn’t know you enlisted, Stone,” Colonel Baird cut in.

“Yeah, it was a long time ago. I don’t like talking about it,” Jacob quickly explained, ignoring the offended look Jones was giving him.

“So, who is your friend?” Cassandra asked.

“Why are my questions always ignored in this group? So unfair,” Ezekiel groaned, earning a pat on the shoulder from Cassandra.

“Someone I forgot but am happy I remembered,” Jacob smiled softly. Seeing the confused looks on Eve and Ezekiel, he let out a small chuckle. “I’ll explain later. It’s not important now.”

“Yeah, that is something we’ll definitely circle back to, Stone,” Eve commented. “Alright, come on, we’re going to be late the longer we stand here.”

Eve opened the door to the pub and waited for her Librarians to enter before following behind. The four of them were greeted by Tom Baker and Katherine, who seemed to be waiting patiently for them.

“Ah, glad you could make it, almost on time,” Baker said, chuckling.

Jacob couldn’t help but glare at the man as he constantly smacked his gum. However, he schooled his expression when he noticed Katherine subtly tap on Baker’s arm.

“Shall we go up and get started?” the elegant woman said with a practiced smile.

It didn’t take long for everyone to gather around the long table in front of the ever-moving displays. Jacob was just thankful he didn’t feel himself having another one of his ‘episodes’ as Damien described it. After their conversation last night, he couldn’t help but put as much distance as he could from Baker, silently hoping he wasn’t being too obvious.

“Alright,” Jacob heard Alec say, turning his attention to the techie. “These are the goodies we’re gonna be playing with tonight.” Alec paused momentarily to pass out earbuds.

“How do these work again?” Jacob asked quietly. He was the first to receive his pair. As he put the comm in his ear, he noticed Alec's startled look and growled slightly. “Come on, man. It’s not like I’m gonna bite you. What’s your deal?”

“Deal? What deal?” Alec chuckled awkwardly.

“Don’t play dumb,” Jacob said a little louder, drawing attention from the others. “You keep lookin’ at me like I kicked your damn puppy. So, what’s your deal? Did I do somethin’ to offend you or somethin’?”

“What? No—”

“Then what is it?”

“Woah, woah,” Baker interjected, coming between him and Alec and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You alright there, Jacob?”

Jacob pushed the unwanted hand off his shoulder. “Just peachy,” he stated coldly as he walked away from the two men.

While walking away, Colonel Baird ushered him over towards the kitchen area.

“You want to tell me what that was about?” she asked quietly.

Jacob took a moment to look back at the rest of the group. He spotted Baker speaking to Alec in a similar fashion to how Eve was speaking to him. To their right, he saw Katherine and Alice giving Cassandra and Jones an overview of their digital combination cracker, which Jones seemed to be gushing over. Jacob turned his attention back towards the Colonel once Cassandra looked back at him with concern.

“The man’s been acting skittish every time he’s around me. He’s playing it off like he ain’t, but I’m not blind,” Jacob explained quietly, not wanting to be overheard.

“I know, I’ve noticed that too,” Eve commented in a low voice, matching his. She stole a glance towards Baker and Alec. “What’s your gut telling you, Stone?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. All of the meetings we’ve had with these people seem a little off. They tend to gravitate towards you for what reason, I have no idea. I’m getting a bad feeling about this. Do you know them?”

“James Sterling was your contact, and he put us in touch with these people.”

“You’re not answering my question, Stone.”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I mean, I don’t know if I know ‘em.”

“You don’t know if you know them?” Colonel Baird gave him a skeptical look.

“No, I don’t.”

“Stone, what does that even mean?”

Jacob sighed, feeling a pang of guilt for not telling her since the beginning. “Before I became a Librarian, I was involved in an accident. Caused me to forget… some stuff.”

“Some stuff? Jacob, why did you never tell me, tell us?”

“I told Cassie the other day,” Jacob added, then internally sighed once he saw the Colonel’s glare. “I didn’t want you or anyone to think I wasn’t capable of doin’ this job.”

“Why would we think that?”

“My head is broken, Eve. I can barely remember anything I did prior to workin’ with you and the others.”

Colonel Baird had a sympathetic smile as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Jacob, your head isn’t broken. Listen, we all got something going on that makes us feel like we are. You with your memory, Cassandra with her brain grape, Flynn with his inability to realize he isn’t working alone anymore, Ezekiel with his... well, oversized ego. Though I doubt he would say that he’s ‘broken’ because of that. We all have something going on that we work together to fix.” She finished with a light chuckle.

Jacob chuckled slightly, some tension leaving his shoulders. “So, you’re tellin’ me I was worried about that for nothin’?”

“The Library chose you, Jacob. Not me. Not Flynn. The Library did.” Eve paused as she took a moment to look over to where Baker stood, no longer speaking with Alec. “Don’t worry about Baker, I’m the Guardian. Your job, as Librarian, is to get the book. Okay?”

“Thanks, Eve,” Jacob responded before turning to walk back towards the other Librarians.

Eve caught his arm before he got too far. “Is that what you meant before?”

“Before?” Jacob questioned.

“When you said you met up with a friend, the one you forgot but are glad you remember now. Is that what you meant?” she asked gently.

“Oh, yeah. I did. It was an old buddy I knew back in the day. He told me we used to… work a lot together in the past. He caught me up on a few things, but he said there is still a lot he wants to discuss with me, so we’re meeting back up later.”

“Oh… that’s good,” Eve replied, analyzing the look on Jacob’s face.

“Yeah…” Jacob began slowly. “Damien’s a good guy.”

Before Eve could respond to Jacob, the sound of shattering glass filled the room. Everyone looked towards the sudden noise, which came from Alec and the bright orange fizzy liquid pooling on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass.

“Hey, man, you alright?” Jacob asked, feeling a sense of protectiveness wash over him as he saw the scared look on the other man.

“Y-yeah,” Alec stuttered. He quickly turned towards Baker, forgetting about the broken glass or spilled soda. “Na—Tom. Can we talk? Outside?”

Jacob watched as Baker led Alec out. As they were exiting, James Sterling walked into the now tense space. His eyes roamed until he spotted the pooling liquid on the floor, then moved to the other faces present.

“I guess you started the party without me?” Sterling commented with a smirk.

It took a few minutes for Alec and Baker to return. The explanation of the remaining tech was handled by Katherine and Alice. Out of the corner of his eye, Jacob saw Baker whisper something to James just as Alec returned to the group. Colonel Baird made quick eye contact with Jacob before breaking off to join the two men.

“Hey, guys,” Alec began, adding a chipper tone to his voice. “Sorry about that.”

“Are you okay, Alec?” Cassandra asked gently.

“Yeah, man, looks like you saw a ghost or something,” Ezekiel added.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just one of those days, I guess,” Alec chuckled awkwardly.

“I guess so,” Jacob stated cautiously as he looked Alec over.

“Anyway, do you guys have any questions about the tech before we get started?”

Ezekiel raised his hand. “Yeah, I do. Why do these earbuds look like they were designed in the 90s?”

“Because they were,” Alec responded with a grin. “But they’ve been upgraded with the latest encryption tech. No one will be able to intercept our comms.”

Cassandra examined her earbud closely. “And this tiny button here?”

“That’s the mute function. If you need to have a private conversation, just press it once, and it’ll cut off your mic,” Alec explained.

Eve returned to the group, having finished her brief conversation with Baker and Sterling. “Alright, team. Let’s run through this one more time. We need to be flawless tonight.” 

~*~

Leverage POV

Nate watched the pub’s security feed as the Librarian team gathered outside. Clasping his hands together, he turned his attention to his team.

“Alright, guys, it’s showtime,” he stated, pushing his hair back to make it look slicker than it already was. “Sophie, you ready to greet our guests?”

As Parker and Hardison stayed upstairs, preparing everything for the newcomers and reintroducing it to Eliot, Nate and Sophie met the Librarians downstairs to lead them back up.

“Ah,” Nate began, chewing gum in his signature Tom Baker style. “Glad you could make it, almost on time.” Smiling in character, he turned to Sophie as she gently tapped his arm.

“Shall we go up and get started?” she said in a charming voice. Nate liked it so much that he couldn’t help but grin even wider.

“After you,” Nate gestured towards their guests to go first.

As they traveled up the stairs, Nate kept an eye on Eliot as he walked through the threshold, feeling a slight relief as the man didn’t freeze like he did last time he was here. Once everyone was gathered, Hardison ushered them around the large table, which displayed the various tech they’d be using during the con.

“Alright,” Hardison began, picking up a box of earbuds, “These are the goodies we’re gonna be playing with tonight.” He paused as he passed the first pair to Eliot.

“How do these work again?” Eliot asked in a low voice as he put the comm in his ear.

Hardison couldn’t help but pause at his friend's question. “Again?”

“Come on, man. It’s not like I’m gonna bite you,” Eliot growled, obviously taking Hardison’s look the wrong way. “What’s your deal?”

“Deal? What deal?” Hardison chuckled awkwardly, wanting to diffuse the tension.

“Don’t play dumb,” Eliot said, raising his voice. “You keep lookin’ at me like I kicked your damn puppy. So, what’s your deal? Did I do somethin’ to offend you or somethin’?”

“What? No—”

“Then what is it?”

Hardison breathed a sigh of relief when Nate stepped between them. “Woah, woah. You alright there, Jacob?”

“Just peachy,” Eliot grunted, pushing Nate’s hand off his shoulder.

Before either Nate or Hardison could respond, Eve quickly ushered Eliot off to the side of the room.

“What happened?” Nate asked in an accusatory tone once Eliot and Eve were out of earshot.

“Nothin’ happened, man. It’s just…”

Nate paused, noting the concern in his Hacker’s eyes. “It’s just what, Hardison?”

“He said ‘again’.”

Nate furrowed his brows in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“The man said ‘again’.”

“I’m still not following.”

“Seriously, man?” Hardison groaned. “Eliot asked me how he uses the comms, again. Meaning he knew how but didn’t remember.”

“I think you might be reaching a bit, don’t you think?”

“I don’t, I could tell it in the way he said it. The man is my best friend, I think I would know.” Hardison said wit ha serious glare.

“So, you think he’s starting to remember?” Nate sighed.

“Listen, I don’t know for certain, but it’s possible, right? Spending time with us is jogging some of his memories.”

Nate took a moment to glance over at Eliot, who was still speaking in hushed tones with Eve. “Is he wearing one of the comms now? I saw him put one in.”

“Yeah, he put one in before he got all growly.”

“I want to know what they’re talking about. Can you turn his on so we can hear him without him hearing us?” Nate said, quickly pulling his comms case out of his pocket and putting one in his ear.

“Seriously, man?” Hardison asked, “Bugging his phone is one thing, but now you want to eavesdrop on him while he’s in the same room. What’s the matter with you?”

Nate looked at Hardison like he questioned a completely sane plan. “I thought you’d want to know if he’s remembering?” he shrugged casually.

“Just when I thought your bar couldn’t get any lower,” Hardison groaned, placing a bud in his ear and activating Eliot’s as Nate requested. “This is a new form of low.”

“Just do your thing, alright?” Nate said, pinching the bridge of his nose at Hardison’s protest.

“Have I ever mentioned how dirty this all makes me feel?”

“More times than I can count. Just, come on.”

Without any more protest from the Hacker, Hardison pulled out his phone and typed a few commands. After a moment, the two men could hear the conversation their Hitter was having with The Colonel.

“My head is broken, Eve. I can barely remember anything I did prior to working with you and the others,” they heard Eliot say in a low, conflicted voice.

“Jacob, your head isn’t broken,” she began. “Listen, we all got something going on that makes us feel like we are. You with your memory, Cassandra with her brain grape, Flynn with his inability to realize he isn’t working alone anymore, Ezekiel with his... well, oversized ego. Though I doubt he would say that he’s ‘broken’ because of that. We all have something going on that we work together to fix.” She finished with a light chuckle.

“So, you’re tellin’ me I was worried about that for nothin’?” They heard Eliot respond with his own slight chuckle, a little of the pain leaving his voice.

“The Library chose you, Jacob. Not me. Not Flynn. The Library did. Don’t worry about Baker, I’m the Guardian. Your job, as Librarian, is to get the book. Okay?”

Hardison gave Nate a look as he picked up his glass of orange soda from the table. “You happy now?”

Nate took his bud out of his ear and pocketed it. “We’ll deal with it,” he stated sharply before beginning to walk away.

Hardison brought the glass to his mouth to drink. As he raised his hand to remove the earbud, he saw out of the corner of his eye that Eve pulled Eliot back towards her as he was beginning to walk off. He played the motion of taking out the earbud as if he was just scratching his face and continued to listen, feeling a slight pit in his gut.

“Is that what you meant before?” he heard Eve ask.

“Before?” Eliot responded.

“When you said you met up with a friend, the one you forgot but are glad you remember now. Is that what you meant?”

“Oh, yeah. I did. It was an old buddy I knew back in the day.”

Hardison felt the pit in his gut grow. He brought the drink back up towards his mouth so it wasn’t too obvious he began to stare.

“He told me we used to... work a lot together in the past,” Eliot continued. “He caught me up on a few things, but he said there is still a lot he wants to discuss with me, so we’re meeting back up later.”

“Oh... that’s good.”

“Yeah... Damien’s a good guy.”

Hardison’s eyes blew wide as soon as he heard that name. The smile on his friend's face about the man who threw him into the pool all those years ago made him feel like he was going to be sick. He didn’t snap out of his shock until he heard the sound of shattering glass near his feet. Looking down, he realized he had dropped his drink.

“Fuck,” Hardison muttered under his breath.

“Hey, man, you alright?” Eliot asked, making Hardison look up.

When Hardison looked up at the man, he saw a look of concern, completely different from the annoyed look he gave him a few minutes ago.

“Y-yeah,” Hardison scanned the room quickly until his eyes landed back on Nate. “Na—Tom. Can we talk? Outside?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nate responded. Before he moved towards the door, he saw the confusion on everyone’s faces as well as the concern on Sophie’s.

As Nate led Hardison to the door, Sterling was just entering. Before Sterling could say anything, Nate quickly and subtly shook his head.

Sterling raised an eyebrow but stayed silent, stepping aside to let them pass.

Once outside the room, Nate turned to Hardison, his expression serious.

“What’s going on?” Nate asked, his voice low.

Hardison took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “It’s Eliot. Or, Jacob, I guess. He mentioned Damien. As in Damien Moreau.”

Nate’s eyes widened, his expression hardening. “Moreau? Are you sure?”

“Positive. He said they’re meeting up later. He doesn’t remember who Moreau really is, Nate. He thinks he’s an old friend.”

Nate ran a hand through his hair, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “We need to handle this carefully. If Moreau is involved, things could get dangerous fast. Did Eliot say where they’re meeting?”

Hardison shook his head. “No, just that they’re meeting later. We need to keep an eye on him.”

“Do we know when Moreau made contact?”

“No clue, but I can look into it. Check all the security footage from where he’s been the past few days.”

“The past few weeks, just to be safe.”

“I’ll run my facial recognition tech on it, it’ll make the process go faster.”

Nate nodded, his mind racing. “Alright, here’s what we’ll do. You keep monitoring Eliot’s comms. If he contacts Moreau or leaves, I want to know immediately. We’ll have to play this by ear and be ready to act if things go south.”

Hardison nodded, the tension still evident in his posture. “Got it, man. This is bad, isn’t it?”

Nate placed a reassuring hand on Hardison’s shoulder. “We’ve dealt with Moreau before. We’ll handle it. Just stay sharp.”

With that, they re-entered the room, Nate’s mind already working on contingency plans. As they walked back to the group, he locked eyes with Sophie, who gave him a questioning look. He gave her a small nod, indicating that they’d talk later.

“Hey, guys,” Hardison said in a more chipper tone as he approached Sophie, Parker, and the others. “Sorry about that.”

“Are you okay, Alec?” Cassandra asked gently.

“Yeah, man, looks like you saw a ghost or something,” Ezekiel added.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just one of those days, I guess,” Hardison chuckled awkwardly.

“I guess so,” Eliot stated cautiously as he looked the other man over.

“Anyway, do you guys have any questions about the tech before we get started?”

Ezekiel raised his hand. “Yeah, I do. Why do these earbuds look like they were designed in the 90s?”

“Because they were,” he responded with a grin. “But they’ve been upgraded with the latest encryption tech. No one will be able to intercept our comms.”

Cassandra examined her earbud closely. “And this tiny button here?”

“That’s the mute function. If you need to have a private conversation, just press it once, and it’ll cut off your mic,” Hardison explained, eyes landing on Eliot briefly.

As Sterling and Nate were speaking, Sterling saw how Colonel Baird moved across the room to where they were standing. He subtly tapped Nate’s arm to get his attention at their approaching guest. As she approached, Nate leaned back, a cocky grin on his face, and getting back into character.

"Colonel Baird, to what do we owe the pleasure?" Nate drawled.

"Cut the act, Baker. Why’s Alec acting so weird, and what's your interest in Jacob?" she demanded, eyes narrowing.

Sterling glanced at Baker before answering, his voice less cocky and more reassuring. "Alec’s got a lot on his plate. Maybe he's just... multitasking."

Nate’s grin broadened as he turned to face Baird fully, happy that Sterling is having his back for once. "Look, Colonel, Alec’s fine. He’s just got a lot going on. As for Jacob, I recognize talent when I see it. His skills are... impressive."

Baird frowned, looking between the two men. "Skills? What kind of skills are we talking about?"

Nate shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, you know, I have a keen eye for unique talents. Always looking for the best."

The Colonel’s expression hardened. "It’s my job to protect Jacob, Cassandra, and Ezekiel. I need to be kept in the loop. If anything is to involve them, I need to know."

Baker raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I understand, Colonel. Trust me, everything I do is for the benefit of the team, and them."

“Sure it is.” she added coldly.

"Why are you so keen on your role as their 'guardian'?" Sterling, trying to probe further, asked, knowing there is something being left unsaid.

Baird’s eyes narrowed slightly. "It’s my job to ensure their safety. They rely on me, and I take that responsibility very seriously. It’s about making sure they can do what they do best without unnecessary risks."

Sterling nodded, his tone more sincere. "We get that, Colonel. That’s why we’re here so early, to make sure there aren’t any unnecessary risks.."

Baird nodded slowly, though her expression remained wary. "Fine, but if anything goes sideways because of this, you and I are going to have a serious talk."

The Colonel returned to the group, having finished her brief conversation with Nate and Sterling. “Alright, everyone, listen up. Let’s run through this one more time. We need to be flawless tonight.” 

“That’s uh, usually my line.” Nate commented as he approached the group as well

The Colonel made a ‘go ahead’ gesture towards Nate as people began returning to their seats.

Returning to the other end of the table, Nate put on his best reassuring smile. “Alright, everyone. Let’s get back to it. We’ve got a job to do, and we need to be ready.”

Hardison took his seat, his eyes occasionally flicking towards Eliot, who seemed oblivious to the undercurrents of tension. 

~*~

The Heist (Combined POV)

Once everyone was settled and comfortable with the technology they would be using for the heist, Nate gathered everyone around the large table for a briefing. He took a moment to survey the room, from the new faces to the familiar ones. He knew this would be one of their most intricate cons yet—a con within a con within possibly another con.

“Alright, everyone. Tonight, we’re hitting the art gallery to retrieve Christopher Marlowe’s journal,” Nate began, his voice authoritative and focused. “Here’s the plan.”

He clicked the remote, projecting blueprints of the gallery onto the screen.

“Alice, you and Ezekiel will handle infiltration and setting up the bug for the security cameras,” Nate explained. “You’ll enter through the service entrance at the rear.”

“What about the guards?” Ezekiel interjected, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“Most will be focused on the main areas with the art up for sale,” Parker chimed in, her tone matter-of-fact.

“Right,” Nate continued. “Alec and Cassandra, you’ll be in Lucille—”

“Wait, who’s Lucille?” Cassandra interrupted innocently.

“That’s my van,” Hardison explained, catching her confusion. “She’s equipped with everything we need for the tech side.”

“Moving on,” Nate said, refocusing. “Katherine and Jacob, you’re our distraction team. You’ll blend in with the buyers and bid up the journal to draw attention away from the rest of us. Sterling, you’re with Interpol—you’ll be our floater and handle Keller when the time comes.”

Sterling nodded, a smirk on his face. “Looking forward to it.”

“What about us?” Colonel Baird asked.

“We’ll be coordinating from the command post, keeping an eye on everything,” Nate replied. 

“Command post?” Baird scoffed, “You mean to tell me that we’ll be here or in Lucille , while everyone else will be boots on the ground?”

“Well-” Nate began, but promptly got cut off. 

“Yeah, not gonna happen, where they go, I go.”

“I do not mean to be disrespectful.” Sophie interjected diplomatically, “Your dedication to their protection is admirable, Eve. What did you call yourself… their guardian?”

“That’s my job, Katherine.” Colonel Baird stated bluntly. 

“Yeah, don’t get between Baird and her guardian-ing.” Ezekiel commented as he leaned back in his chair. “She takes it super seriously, not that we mind though. Can’t count the number of times she’s saved our asses.”

“Jones, enough.”

“What? I’m just being honest here. I know I for one would feel more comfortable working with you all, if Eve was in the field with us. I’m sure Cassandra and Jakey-pie would agree with me.” Ezekiel added with his usual sass.

“I mean, he ain’t wrong.” Eliot muttered slightly, ignoring Ezekiel’s nickname.

“I wouldn’t mind having Eve out there with us,” Cassandra admitted with a nod.

Colonel Baird fought back a smile at the words of her charges, then turned to Nate with resolve. “Well, Baker?”

Nate sighed, conceding. “Fine. We’ll coordinate while blending in as guests at the gallery. Sterling, do you have enough tickets for that?”

“Of course I do.” The man confirmed with a smug grin.

“Alright, any other questions?”

Eliot’s expression remained serious as he raised a hand. “What’s the plan if something goes wrong?”

Nate softened his gaze. “We adapt, like always. Let’s get ready.”

As night descended and the time for the auction approached, the teams prepared to disperse. They decided to meet outside the gallery and, if needed, rendezvous together. Fortunately, Lucille was spacious enough to fit everyone. Sterling, who would make the arrest, rode separately.

Once they arrived at the gallery, everyone began to get out. As they began to pair up, Jacob felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Hardison standing there, looking more composed than before.

"Hey, Jacob," Hardison started. "I’m sorry about earlier. It’s just… I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and I didn’t mean to make you feel like it had something to do with you."

Jacob nodded, his expression softening. “It’s alright, man. Just… don’t bottle things up, okay? We’re a team. We gotta look out for each other.”

"We’re a team?"

"Yeah, man," Jacob scoffed. "We’re working together now, that makes us a team." He finished, patting Hardison on the back before walking away with Sophie.

Alec smiled. "Thanks, El."

The night air was thick with anticipation (and a touch of anxiety from some) as all teams approached the grand façade of the art gallery. Lights illuminated the ornate architecture, casting long shadows that danced in the breeze. Inside, the buzz of eager bidders mingled with the hushed tones of security personnel.

Nate, Eve, and Sterling entered into the lobby of the gallery together first as they moved through a rather large crowd. Sterling broke off once the three made eye contact with Sophie and Jacob across the room.

“There’s a lot more people here than I would have thought there’d be.” Eliot said as he grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing waitstaff. “Here you go, Katherine.” he finished as he passed one of the glasses to Sophie.

“Are you nervous, Jacob?” Sophie said with a slight compassionate grin.

“‘Course not. We’ve dealt with bigger crowds than this before” he said, matching her smirk.

Across the show floor, Nate and Eve continuously scanned the room.

“You guys all set in the van?” Nate asked.

“All systems go,” began Hardison. “We are connected into their feeds, so what they see we see, for now that is.” Hardison chuckled.

“Where’s the book?” Cassandra asked, sitting beside him.

With a few clicks on his keyboard, Hardison brought a different camera’s feed up. “There it is, there appears to be some guards with it while in the room with all the pieces up for auction.” 

“Will that be a problem?” Nate asked through the comms.

“Shouldn’t be.” Hardison responded casually.

“Jones, are you and Alice in position?” Baird asked.

“Yes, we are.” Parker replied, with an annoyed huff. “I told you, Jones, I’m picking the lock.”

“And I told you, Alice, that I was going to be picking the lock.” Ezekiel responded with similar annoyance.

“Ha! As if you could pick a lock faster than me.”

“I’m Ezekiel Jones, I’m the best thief of all time, I know I can pick a lock better AND faster than you.”

“Oh, yeah? Well-”

“Alice. Focus.” Nate chastised, the same time Colonel Baird said, “Jones, enough.”

Parker grumbled but motioned for Ezekiel to pick the lock.

“Boom, see? Easy peasy,” Ezekiel said after a few moments, once the lock was picked.

“I could have done it faster,” Parker mumbled.

“What was that?” Ezekiel asked, giving her a skeptical look.

“Oh, nothing!” she replied in a falsely chipper tone.

“Alright, guys, there is a security office just down the hall and to your left. I don’t have eyes in there, so be careful. I need you to insert the drive into the main computer,” Hardison instructed.

It took Parker and Ezekiel less than a minute to reach the designated door. As they approached, they stopped. “There’s a keypad. What’s the code?” Parker informed.

“Let me see,” Hardison replied.

Parker held her phone up to the keypad, showing the video to Hardison.

“I would suggest using the code cracker, but it appears this gallery hasn’t updated their locks in the past decade,” Hardison complained. “Give me a minute; let me see if I can sift through what I got and get you the code.”

“Cassandra, you think you could crack it?” Ezekiel asked through the comms.

“Man, I just said I can’t crack it with the device. Give me a damn minute,” Hardison responded.

“Your name isn’t Cassandra, is it? Cassie, what do you think?” Ezekiel insisted.

“Can you show me the keypad again? Ezekiel, can you shine a light on it as well?” Cassandra requested.

Parker and Ezekiel followed suit, illuminating the keypad for Cassandra.

“What are you going to do?” Hardison asked, annoyance tingeing his voice.

“Shh. I’m doing math,” Cassandra said with a smile. She looked off into the distance, moving her hands as if calculating something in the air, causing Hardison to look on skeptically.

Cassandra took a deep breath, her eyes focusing intently on the keypad. She started to move her hands in the air, her fingers tracing invisible numbers and symbols as she visualized the equations.

"Okay, based on the wear and tear on the keys, the numbers most frequently used are 1, 3, 5, 7, and 9," she murmured to herself. "Now, if we consider the probability of each number's position..."

Her hands danced through the air, as if she were manipulating a complex formula floating in front of her. She squinted, her brain rapidly processing the data, piecing together the sequence.

"If I assume the gallery's security patterns are similar to other museums, they’d likely use a prime number sequence combined with a Fibonacci influence for added security. So, taking the first prime, adjusting for the second Fibonacci number..."

She muttered numbers under her breath, her mind running through permutations and combinations at lightning speed.

"Alright, I've got it. The code should be... 1, 7, 3, 5, 9, 2, 8, 4."

Parker and Ezekiel exchanged a glance, then Ezekiel entered the code into the keypad. The light turned green, and the door clicked open.

"How did you...?" Hardison began, looking at Cassandra in amazement.

Cassandra just shrugged with a smile. "Just a little math and pattern recognition. No big deal."

Hardison's voice came through the comms, still tinged with disbelief. "Remind me never to play poker with you, Cassandra."

"Noted," she replied, her tone light and confident. "Now let's get this drive inserted."

Parker and Ezekiel quietly pushed open the door to the security room. The dim lighting cast shadows across the walls, and the soft hum of the surveillance equipment filled the air. A single guard sat at the bank of monitors, his back to them, completely engrossed in the various feeds.

As they stepped inside, the door creaked slightly, causing the guard to turn his head. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw the intruders.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" the guard demanded, getting up from his chair.

Before he could react further, Parker swiftly pulled out a taser and fired. The guard convulsed briefly before collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

Ezekiel blinked in astonishment. "Since when did you have a taser on you?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Parker shrugged nonchalantly. "I never leave home without one."

Ezekiel shook his head, a mixture of amusement and exasperation on his face. "Alright, let's get to work."

They moved quickly, Parker keeping an eye on the unconscious guard while Ezekiel inserted the drive into the main computer. Hardison's voice came through the comms, guiding them through the process.

"Okay, I’m in. Just need a few minutes to bypass the security protocols," Hardison said, his fingers flying over his keyboard.

Parker glanced at the monitors, watching the various feeds. "How much longer?"

"Almost there," Hardison responded. "Just keep an eye out."

Ezekiel tapped his foot impatiently, his eyes darting around the room. "This place gives me the creeps."

"Focus, Jones," Parker said, her eyes still on the monitors.

Suddenly, Cassandra's voice crackled through the comms. "Guys, I think I see something interesting. There's an artifact in one of the rooms that doesn't seem to fit with the rest of the collection. It's Lævateinn.”

"Lævateinn?" Jacob's interest was piqued. "What’s it doing here?"

“What’s Lævateinn?” Sophie asked, as the two of them began to move into the auction room, finding their seats with no problem.

“It’s a mythical weapon from Norse mythology," Jacob began, lowering his voice as they took their seats. "A powerful sword said to have magical properties, capable of bringing about destruction. It’s not something you’d expect to find in an art gallery."

Cassandra continued, "It's definitely Lævateinn. The engravings match the descriptions perfectly. We have to get it for the Library."

Eve's voice came through, calm but firm. "Focus on the journal. That's our primary objective."

“But Eve, this is huge. Mr. Jenkins has said that Lævateinn is one of the artifacts that is still missing from the Library, we have to get it before it falls into the wrong hands,” Cassandra insisted.

“How much destruction are we talking about?” Baird asked with a sigh, knowing how easily her Librarians could get sidetracked.

Jacob explained, “Lævateinn is a powerful mythical sword from Norse mythology, said to have been forged by Loki himself. It’s known as the wounding wand, capable of bringing immense destruction and chaos. It’s the kind of artifact that, if it falls into the wrong hands, could cause serious trouble.”

“But it’s just a stick, isn’t it? How could it cause destruction? Besides, that’s all myth; magic, none of that is real,” Sophie countered, trying to be the voice of reason.

“Just because something is considered a myth, or magic, doesn’t mean it ain’t real,” Jacob chuckled.

As Jacob was explaining, out of the corner of his eye, Nate saw Damien Moreau speaking with a tall, striking woman with dark hair and piercing eyes. She wore a sleek, black outfit. Nate watched as she began to make her way towards the auction room.

“Hardison,” Nate whispered softly, not realizing he didn’t use Hardison’s alias during this job. “You see what I see?”

Hardison, monitoring the feeds, quickly caught sight of the woman. “Yeah, I see him. What’s he doing here?” he said as he watched Damien Moreau move to a back room, away from the auction floor.

When Eve looked over, only seeing the woman. She quickly alerted Ezekiel, Cassandra, and Jacob. “Heads up, guys, Lamia is making an appearance.”

Ezekiel groaned and complained, “Of course she is. Can’t we ever catch a break?”

“Who is Lamia?” Nate asked Eve, his tone sharp with curiosity and concern.

Jacob kept his eyes on the woman. “She just walked into the auction room.”

Ezekiel spoke to Eve once more, trying to regain her attention, “Can I go after the artifact?”

“What about the book?” Parker interjected.

“Guys, we didn’t plan on going after two things,” Hardison added.

“Well, we’ve got two thieves and two things to steal. I don’t see a problem,” Ezekiel countered.

“One at a time, we’re getting sidetracked. Who is Lamia?” Nate insisted.

Eve took a deep breath. “Lamia is dangerous. She’s part of the Serpent Brotherhood, and she’s after powerful artifacts. She’s not someone to be taken lightly. The Brotherhood must be after Lævateinn.”

Nate’s expression darkened. “Powerful artifacts? What are you talking about—”

Eve cut him off, “I think we should go for it.”

Nate shook his head, “No, we need to stick to the plan. The journal is the priority.”

Ezekiel groaned frustratedly. “But we can do both—”

“No,” Nate interrupted firmly. “The journal is the priority. That’s the plan.”

Eve took charge, her voice firm and resolute. "We can't let Lamia or the Brotherhood get their hands on either artifact. They’ll use them to cause a lot of harm and hurt a lot of people. We need to secure both items."

Nate sighed, the weight of the decision evident on his face. "Alright, we’ll go after both. Ezekiel, you get the stick. Parker, you get the journal."

“Well, hello there, cowboy,” Lamia said in a sultry voice as she slid into the seat next to Jacob and Sophie, her eyes glinting with amusement.

“Lamia,” Jacob replied, his southern charm smile not hiding the edge in his voice. “Last time we ran into each other, you tried to kill me and my friends. What brings you here? Is your boss nearby?”

Sophie looked over, her concern deepening as she studied Lamia's expression.

Lamia chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “He’s meeting with a new business partner.”

Nate leaned closer to Eve, his voice low. "I’ll be back," he whispered, leaving before she could protest. He slipped through the crowd, heading towards the back room, his eyes scanning for Damien.

The auctioneer made his way to the podium, tapping the microphone to get everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. We are about to begin the auction."

“I’ve got eyes on Keller,” Sterling reported through the comms, his voice steady.

“Wait for the signal,” Nate instructed, his tone all business as he continued his search for Damien.

As the auction progressed, various items were sold to eager bidders. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation and competitive energy. Finally, the journal was brought out, encased in glass and placed on a pedestal for all to see.

A bidding war ensued, primarily between Sophie, Lamia, and Jacob. The tension in the room was palpable as the numbers climbed higher and higher. Eventually, Sophie’s bid won, her expression calm but triumphant.

"Congratulations, madam," the auctioneer announced, acknowledging Sophie’s winning bid.

Hardison’s voice crackled over the comms. “Now’s the time to get the journal once it's in the secure room.”

Ezekiel made his way to the room where Lævateinn was displayed, the mythical weapon drawing his gaze. He carefully picked the lock, the satisfying click echoing in the quiet hallway. He slipped inside, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of security.

Meanwhile, Parker approached the secure room where the journal was supposed to be stored. She picked the lock with practiced ease and slipped inside.

As Ezekiel carefully lifted Lævateinn from its display, he spoke into the comms. “I’ve got the artifact. Alice, how’s it going with the journal?”

Parker’s brow furrowed as she searched the secure room. “Are you sure the journal is supposed to be in this room?” she asked, her voice tense.

“Yes, why?” Hardison replied, his fingers flying over his keyboard as he monitored the feeds.

“Because it isn’t here,” Parker said, her frustration clear.

Ezekiel groaned. "Of course it isn’t. Why can’t anything ever go smoothly?"

Parker’s mind raced as she tried to think of possible explanations. “Hardison, is there another secure room? Another place they might have moved it?”

Hardison’s eyes flicked across his monitors. “Give me a second,” he muttered, sifting through the security feeds and blueprints of the gallery. “There’s another room down the hall. It’s not on the main blueprint, but it looks like it could be used for storage.”

Parker and Ezekiel hurried to the other storage room, their footsteps echoing lightly against the tiled floor. As they entered, Parker's eyes immediately locked onto the empty case that should have held Marlowe's journal.

"It's gone," Parker said tersely, her voice tinged with frustration. "The journal isn't here."

Meanwhile, Hardison's voice crackled through their earpieces, mixed with static. "Guys, I'm getting some serious interference here. Cameras are glitching out. I can't see a damn thing clearly."

“Is that normal?” Cassandra voiced concern, lacing her tone.

“What?” Hardison responded as he typed furiously at his keyboard.

“Isn’t static supposed to be black, white, and gray? But there’s blue and purple mixed in.”

Parker quickly keyed in on the urgency. "Hardison, the journal's missing," she reported swiftly, her tone conveying the gravity of the situation. "We've got empty hands here."

“Something’s not right, Ezekiel. Stay put, I’m on my way,” Colonel Baird's voice cut in. She swiftly left the lobby, making a beeline towards their location. “Alec, can you guide me?”

Hardison nodded, as he switched his focus on providing precise directions to Baird. "Head straight down the hall, then take the first right," he instructed calmly.

Baird followed Alec's guidance, her pace quickening as she navigated through the gallery's backstage corridors. 

As the tension mounted inside the gallery, Sterling's voice crackled through the comms with urgency. "Keller has security, walking through the auction room, about to head to the side door. I won't be able to stop them."

Jacob scanned the room, his eyes sharp and focused. He spotted Keller and his security detail moving discreetly towards the exit. Without hesitation, he began to follow, navigating through the clusters of auction attendees.

Lamia, ever observant, noticed Jacob's movement and intercepted him with a knowing smile. She gently rubbed his forearm, her voice low and playful. "I know that look in your eye, Stone. I'll take that as my cue to leave. See you later, cowboy." With a wink, she gracefully walked away.

Jacob glanced over at Sophie, concern etched into his features. "You alright by yourself?" he asked quietly.

Sophie nodded reassuringly. "I'm fine. Go after Keller," she replied, her eyes flickering towards Lamia.

Sophie, got up and began blending into the bustling art gallery, kept a careful eye on Lamia's graceful movements. She shadowed Lamia discreetly through the rooms filled with art and auction attendees, maintaining a safe distance to avoid detection.

Nate's voice crackled over the comm, breaking the ambient noise. "Katherine, status?"

"I'm tailing this Lamia woman," Sophie replied quietly. "She's moving toward the eastern wing. Where are you?"

Nate will pause momentarily. “You’re heading in my direction.”

Inside the storage room, Ezekiel and Parker tensed as the heavy footsteps of approaching guards echoed down the corridor. Ezekiel leaned close to Parker, his voice barely a whisper. "Well, well, looks like we've got company."

Parker nodded, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the room for potential exits. "They're coming in fast," she muttered, her fingers twitching with anticipation.

Just as the door swung open, revealing two burly security guards, Eve materialized from the shadows. With a fluid grace, she launched into action, her movements precise and calculated. A swift kick to one guard's knee sent him crashing to the ground, while a swift elbow strike to the other's abdomen left him winded and incapacitated.

Parker wasted no time, darting forward to secure their weapons and disable their communication devices. "Nice work, Eve," she murmured, her tone appreciative yet focused.

Eve nodded, her expression unreadable as she checked the guards' pulse to ensure they were only incapacitated. "We need to move quickly," she said, glancing at Ezekiel and Parker. "They'll be missed soon."

Ezekiel grinned mischievously, already plotting their next move. "Let's find that book before they send reinforcements," he suggested, eager to get back on track despite the unexpected interruption.

Nate's voice crackled through the comms, urgent and authoritative. "Everyone, get back to the van with Alec and Cassandra. Now."

Ezekiel frowned. "Why? What's going on?"

Parker, already making her moves toward the exit, didn't hesitate. "Come on, Ezekiel," she urged.

"Just trust me," Nate insisted.

Eve quickly took charge, guiding Ezekiel toward the exit. "Let's move, Ezekiel," she commanded, her eyes scanning for any threats as they made their way out.

As they hustled down the corridor, Eve's concern turned to Jacob. "Stone, where are you?" she asked, her voice a mix of worry and concentration.

“I have eyes on Keller.” Jacob whispered into the comms.

Jacob quickened his pace and caught up to Sterling, his footsteps nearly silent.

“What do we do?” Jacob whispered earnestly, startling Sterling.

Sterling jumped slightly, then frowned. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what? I just asked a question,” Jacob replied, feigning innocence.

Sterling sighed, his expression serious. “There’s a way to cut them off. I’ll distract them, and you take out the guards.”

“How many guards are there?”

“Four.”

“Four? Four! Man, I can’t take down four guys by myself,” Jacob protested.

Colonel Baird’s voice crackled through the comms. “Stone, you need me there?”

“No,” Sterling interjected firmly. “Keller will get away if we don’t do this now. You got this, Jacob.” Sterling gave Jacob a reassuring pat on the shoulder before moving ahead to intercept Keller and his guards.

Nate tapped the mute function on his comms and gestured for Sophie to do the same. While Nate was trying to track down Moreau, Sophie was trailing the woman who had spoken to Eliot. When the two of them met up, they continued to follow Lamia together. She led them to what appeared to be a loading dock beneath the gallery.

“How come we didn’t know this was here?” Sophie whispered to Nate.

“I’m not sure,” he replied.

They watched as Lamia approached an older gentleman with white hair, who was speaking to someone they couldn’t see. They stayed just around the corner, knowing that looking directly would get them spotted.

“Sophie, you got a mirror on you?” Nate asked.

“Huh? Oh.” Sophie pulled a compact mirror from her clutch and passed it to Nate.

Nate positioned the mirror slightly, shaking his head angrily when he saw who it was.

“What is it? Who do you see?” Sophie asked, keeping her back pressed up against the wall.

“Moreau.”

“That bastard, what is he doing here?” she hissed.

“He met up with Eliot last night,” Nate stated bluntly.

“What?” she gasped slightly. “Nate, why didn’t you say anything?”

“There wasn’t time, but it doesn't matter. Be quiet.”

Nate watched as Damien passed something to the older man. It looked like a book, covered in a dark, ornate cloth, obscuring its details.

“Come on,” Nate said, passing the mirror back to Sophie. “We need to meet back up with the others at the van.”

Sterling stepped out from the shadows, cutting off Keller and his four thugs in the narrow hallway. With a smug grin, he made a show of straightening his tie. "Keller, fancy meeting you here. Did you come to bid or just to cause trouble?"

Keller sneered, his eyes narrowing. "Sterling, always the nuisance. How many of my associates have bounties on Interpol agents these days?"

Sterling raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Oh, you know how it is. Keeps the job interesting. But speaking of interesting, I'm wondering if you're planning to walk out of here on your own two feet."

Keller's expression darkened. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."

As Keller threatened Sterling, Jacob approached the four guards from behind. He hesitated for a moment, memories flashing through his mind. He saw faces, places, and moments of violence. Then, something clicked inside him. With a deep breath, he moved swiftly.

Jacob’s first move was a quick elbow to the back of the nearest guard’s head, dropping him instantly. The second guard turned, but Jacob was already spinning, delivering a roundhouse kick that sent him crashing into the wall. The third guard lunged, but Jacob sidestepped, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back with a sickening crack. The fourth guard managed to throw a punch, but Jacob blocked it, delivering a rapid series of punches to his ribs before finishing with an uppercut that left him sprawled on the floor.

Keller, hearing the commotion, turned around and saw Eliot standing amidst the unconscious guards. His eyes widened in recognition. "Spencer?" he said, disbelief in his voice.

“What?” Jacob said in a small voice as he froze, flashes of old memories and emotions momentarily paralyzing him. Keller took a step forward, but before he could say anything else, Sterling appeared behind him and swiftly knocked him out with a collapsible baton. Keller crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Sterling looked at Eliot, a mix of concern and curiosity on his face. "You okay, Stone?"

Jacob shook his head dislodging the memories that he’d need to sort out later. “Yeah, fine. Let’s get out of here.” 

“You go on ahead, I’ll hand Keller and his friends over to the police. Group back up with the other’s and I’ll meet up with everyone once I’m done.”

As Jacob began to walk away, he only made it a few more feet before turning back to Sterling and tapping the mute button on his mic. “Did you hear what he said? What he called me?”

Sterling looked up, after zip tying Keller’s hands behind his back. Sterling paused and sighed as he stood up and walked towards Jacob, a clear vulnerable look on his face. Sterling took out his earbud and handed it to Jacob.

“Yes. I did.”

“What did he call me?”

“He called you Spencer, Jacob.”

“I don’t understand, why did he-... Why are people calling me that…?”

“It’s a long story,” Sterling interrupts, causing Jacob to stare shocked at the other man. “one that should have already been told to you. But we don’t have the time to talk about this right now.” Sterling pats Jacob on the shoulder a few times. “Now, go, I don’t want the cops to think you’re involved in this.”

Jacob gave a simple nod of confirmation as Sterling resumed zip-tying the hands of the other unconscious thugs in the hall. He slipped past the oblivious auction guests effortlessly. The absence of Lævateinn had evidently been noticed; the distant wail of police sirens confirmed it. He rapped on the back of Lucille, signaling Cassandra to open the door.

"Sterling is apprehending Keller as we speak," Jacob briefed urgently. "He said he'll meet us later. Where's..." His voice trailed off as he realized two were missing. "Where's Tom and Katherine?"

As if in answer, both doors swung open and Nate and Sophie climbed in.

"We need to leave, now," Nate declared urgently, accelerating away, the gallery shrinking in the rearview mirror.

Chapter Text

Aftermath (Combined POV)

As both teams made their getaway from the auction, Nate looked back into the rearview mirror, watching the flashing lights of police cars shrink in the distance. After a typical heist gone right, there would usually be a string of conversation from his team, whether it was poking fun at their marks, checking up on an injured ally, or just talking about what they were going to do for dinner. It was tradition to have a meal after a job well done. However, this wasn’t a job well done. They lost the book, and despite the Librarians getting their ‘Lævateinn’ or whatever they called it, they lost. Damien was back, and he was working with a group that Colonel Baird called the ‘Serpent Brotherhood’. Nate knew they had mentioned this in the past, based on their previous reconnaissance of her team, but having that information earlier could have been useful.

The ride back to HQ was quiet. Hardison drove, not even opting to put on the radio. Parker and Ezekiel were still heated from their arguments on the job. The Colonel kept an eye on Eliot, because Nate refused to call him Jacob in his own thoughts, as the man had his elbows on his knees, looking slightly distressed. And Sophie… well, Sophie was staring at Nate, as she typically did whenever she tried to read his expression, or thoughts for that matter. Once inside, everyone walked quietly into the room.

“Your plan was a bust.” Colonel Baird stated as everyone was inside, breaking the tense silence.

“My plan?” Nate exclaimed, his thoughts pulling to the present. “My plan was fine. Good even! It was you and your team, that fucked everything up!”

“Woah, let’s calm down, everyone.” Hardison said, trying to diffuse the tension, as he went to place a hand on Nate’s shoulder, but Nate took a step forward closer to Eve.

“My team? You were the one calling the shots, remember?” Eve countered, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, but your team deviated from the plan, went after something else, we could've gotten your book if you just stuck to it.”

“Hey!” Cassandra stood up and yelled, causing a few to look at her surprised. “We worked together as a team, all of us. There’s no need to point any fingers.

“Fine. Fine. Let’s figure this out. What exactly happened? Oh, right! You guys saw a mythological sword and thought it was more important to get than the damn book you’ve been looking for!” Nate took a deep breath, rubbing his temples. “I need a drink.”

“You don’t need to be so damn rude, man. We told you that was something else we needed to get.” Jacob rises to his friend’s defense.

Nate takes his time as he pours himself a scotch, taking a long sip to finish it, before turning back to Eliot. Nate took a few steps closer towards his friend, glass still in hand. 

“How about we all take a moment and breathe? Yes? I like that idea.” Sophie hurriedly interjects. 

The tension in the room thickened, like smoke that no one could shake off. Nate was still standing by the table, staring at his empty glass. He wanted another drink, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to be more focused. His frustration hadn’t quite burned out yet, and everyone knew it. Regardless, he poured himself another drink and swallowed it in one go. Sophie sighed heavily at his actions, but he didn’t care. This con was coming to an end and not in the way they had hoped.

“Tom, listen.” Eliot stepped closer to Nate, his tone softer as if trying to tame a wild animal. “I get why you’re upset. We lost the journal because we saw something else, but that something else is also important to The Library. That’s why-”

“Just…” Nate holds up his hand towards Eliot. “Shut up.”

“Excuse me?” Jacob’s soft tone of voice drops, as he narrows his eyes at him. “What did you just say?”

“I said shut up. ” Nate repeats himself as he places his glass onto a nearby flat surface.

“What’s your deal man?” Questioned Hardison.

“Na-Tom, What’s the problem?” Parker added.

“Let’s just all just take a breath, calm down, we can figure this out.” Sophie suggested.

Nate took a brief moment to look around the room. His team: Sophie, Hardison, and Parker all looked at him in utmost confusion. They’ve seen his mood swings before, this isn’t the first time they’ve dealt with this since Eliot’s ‘disappearance’. The ‘librarians’: Baird, Ezekiel, and Cassandra looked at him with anger, annoyance, and concern, respectively. Finally, his eyes landed on Eliot. Maybe he was better off without them.

“The problem,” Nate breathed, “is that this job… this con . It's over.”

Colonel Baird looked at Nate with fire in her eyes, she took wide strides until she was standing in front of the man, she would have grabbed the collar of his shirt, if she, and the rest of the room didn’t hear footsteps coming down the metal spiral staircase.

“I would say that Mr. Baker, or well Mr. Ford here is correct. This con, as he eloquently called it, is over.” stated Jenkins as he made his way down the steps, carrying a large familiar book in his hands. The Clippings Book.

“Who the fuck are you?” Nate interjected, no longer pretending to be nice Mr. Baker.

“And how did you get in here?” Hardison interjected. “I got security for my security, I would’ve known if there was an intruder.”

“This isn’t an intruder,” Cassandra explained as Jenkins continued his way down the stairs to be on the same level as the others. “It’s Mr. Jenkins.”

“Wait, hold on, Jenkins. What do you mean by Mr. Ford? ” Colonel Baird questioned, as she lightly pulled Jacob away from the man in question.

“Mr. Jenkins, was it?” Sophie calmly slipped into her grifter guise to ease the overall tension she could feel was about to implode. “Surely there’s a misunderstanding here. Let’s all take a breath and start over, shall we? No need to throw around accusations without proof.”

Baird’s sharp laugh cut through the air. “Proof? We don’t need proof when the evidence is staring us in the face. That book,” she pointed at the Clippings Book in Jenkins’ hands, “was stolen. And the only ones with sticky fingers here are your people.”

Sophie’s smile didn’t waver, but her eyes narrowed slightly. “Colonel, whatever you think we’ve done, I can assure you, it’s not what it looks like.”

“It looks like we’re standing in a room full of liars and thieves,” Baird shot back. “So forgive me if I’m not in the mood to hold hands and sing kumbaya.”

Jenkins stepped forward, ignoring both Baird and the other woman, whom he didn’t care for the name at this moment, and the Clippings Book held firmly in his hands. The weight of his gaze fell on Nate and his team, his tone as measured and steady as ever. “Before we move forward, I believe some truths need to be addressed, starting with you, Mr. Ford.”

Nate raised an eyebrow, his smirk laced with defiance, and not missing an opportunity to refill his glass (again). “Oh, this should be good.”

“Indeed.” Jenkins tilted his head slightly, fixing Nate with a scrutinizing look. “You and your associates: a former insurance investigator turned criminal mastermind, accompanied by a grifter, a hacker, and a thief. Your crew has left a trail of questionable morality and highly illegal activities spanning the globe.”

“We’re not the bad guys, alright?” Hardison interjected, stepping forward with a glare. “We weren’t out there hurting people. Everything we do is about helping those who couldn’t help themselves.”

“Helping people?” Colonel Baird interjected, her tone cold. “By stealing and breaking the law? That’s your defense?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Sophie said smoothly, though her calm demeanor didn’t hide the edge in her voice. “We don’t do anything without a reason, Colonel.”

“Don’t bother,” Nate muttered, his smirk fading. “She’s not going to get it. People like her need everything to fit into neat little boxes. Good guys, bad guys… it’s all black and white.”

“That’s enough!” Jacob’s voice rang out, stepping closer with a hard glare aimed at Nate. “You think we’re just going to stand here and take this? You’ve lied to us, put all of us at risk!”

Before Nate could reply, Jenkins held up the Clippings Book, drawing everyone’s attention. “Speaking of risk, there’s another matter to discuss.” His gaze shifted to Parker. “You see, when I arrived, I discovered this book, the Clippings Book. That was stolen from The Library.”

“Uh…” Parker hesitated, her eyes darting to Hardison and then back to the older man. “I didn’t know it was your library.”

“It’s one thing to break into our space, but don’t lie about it when you’re caught.” Cassandra exclaimed, stepping closer with a look of disbelief. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to take something like that? That book isn’t just paper and ink, it’s a living, magical artifact.”

“Wait… did you just say magical artifact ?” Hardison asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

Cassandra opened her mouth to respond, but Jenkins cut her off with a firm look. “Not now. There are more pressing matters at hand.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly take it for fun,” Parker replied defensively, crossing her arms. “It was part of a job.”

“You mean a heist ,” Ezekiel said with a smirk, leaning against the wall. “I get it, mate. Stealing’s kind of my thing too.”

Jenkins’ gaze snapped to Ezekiel. “You, Mr. Jones, are a thief, yes. But you’ve sworn an oath to protect The Library and its purpose. There is a critical difference.”

Ezekiel’s smirk faded, his expression shifting into something more serious.

“How are we supposed to trust you when your team is stealing from us before we’ve even started working together?” Baird said, her anger was evident as she turned back to Nate.

“Trust?” Nate said with a scoff, his arms crossed. “I didn’t ask for your trust, and I’m not about to apologize for my team doing what they had to do. You think we’re the bad guys? Fine. But at least we don’t waste time sitting on our hands, waiting for someone else to save the day. Letting what we're after be stolen right from under our noses.”

“That’s enough!” Jacob said, his voice tight with frustration. He stepped closer to Nate, his expression hard. “That’s rich coming from you. You’ve lied to us since the beginning. Claiming you’re someone you’re not. Acting like you even remotely care. I don’t trust you, any of you, and I don’t like that you’ve lied to us. You know, he was right about you. It’s my fault we even worked with you, why we’re even in this mess.”

Hardison stepped toward his friend, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “Hey, man, just take it easy, alright? No one’s trying to blame you… Listen, Eliot-” He reached out to gently pat Jacob’s shoulder but froze mid-sentence. 

Jacob stiffened, his expression instantly hardening. He brushed Hardison’s hand off with a sharp motion. “Who the hell is Eliot?”

Hardison stammered, suddenly realizing his mistake. “Uh… Jacob. I said Jacob. You know, totally your name. Definitely not Eliot. Nope.”

Jacob’s expression grew darker, and his hands clenched at his sides. His breath grew shallow as a wave of frustration and confusion hit him. His hand shot up to his temple as a sharp pain flared in his head. “Dammit…” he muttered, his vision blurring. He shook his head as the headache intensified. “You’re workin' with the guy who attacked me in Marlowe’s grave, aren’t you?”

Hardison, seeing the pain on his friend's face, stepped closer, attempting to place a hand on Jacob’s shoulder once more. “Hey, man, just take it easy-”

“Damn it, Hardison! Get off me!” Jacob snapped, jerking away from Hardison’s touch, the pain in his head spiking.

Hardison froze, his heart sinking. "Did... did you just say my name?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

Jacob’s eyes flashed with confusion, and he turned sharply toward Hardison, his voice raw. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"

Nate’s eyes caught the shift in Eliot’s demeanor, the slip. This was the opening he they needed, to see if they could get their Eliot back. He stepped forward cautiously, his voice low but firm. “Eliot… Do you remember anything else? Anything from before? The airport hangar? When you were fighting Quinn? You were on the floor, hurt. You were trying to get your comms, but he kept kicking you…”

Jacob’s expression flickered, and the painful images began to surface. The memory hit him like a hammer, he could see it now: himself on the cold floor of the hangar, the sounds of fists meeting flesh, a man’s, no Quinn’s boots slamming into his ribs. He could almost hear the crack of the blows, the muffled sound of his gasps for air.

And then the quiet realization: the earpiece. It was lying several feet away from him. The connection, the only way to reach anyone, lost. The helplessness. The fear. The moment when Nate had been the only one he could get in contact with. “Eliot, what's going on? Talk to me, Eliot. ” Nate’s voice in his ear, steady, commanding. The only voice that had mattered.

Jacob’s head snapped back, the pressure of the memory too much. He squeezed his eyes shut as the ache in his temple grew. “I… I don’t remember that,” he said, his voice shaking. “I don’t remember you.”

Nate moved closer, keeping his voice calm. “Jacob… Eliot, you tried to reach me. Our cover was blown, you reached out to warn me, but before you could get the message through, Quinn attacked you. You were hurt, lying there, unable to defend yourself. Your earpiece fell out. It wasn’t until the fight was over, after you were bloodied, bruised, and had broken ribs, that you were able to get back to me and warn me.”

Jacob’s hand shot up, pressing harder against his forehead as the pain intensified. "No. Stop," he gasped, his whole body tense as he tried to fight off the memory, but it was too late the images were already too vivid. “I don’t remember… I don’t remember you... I don’t remember Eliot.”

The words seemed to crash into him with overwhelming force, the pain in his head spiraling out of control. Jacob staggered back, unable to focus, his body shaking. His eyes darted around the room, but all he saw was a blur of faces and voices he couldn’t connect to.

He couldn’t take it anymore. With a grunt of frustration, he abruptly turned on his heel, the pressure in his mind too much to bear. “I can’t… I can’t do this,” he muttered under his breath, backing away from the group.

Before anyone could react, Jacob reached for the nearest bottle of scotch on Nate’s desk, snatching it up without a second thought. He didn’t care that it was half-empty, he just needed something, anything to dull the sharpness in his mind. Without another word, he slammed the door behind him, the sound of it echoing through the room.

~*~

Librarian’s POV

The moment that Jacob had left the room, Eve’s guardian instincts were telling her to go after the man. However, there was a greater threat standing in front of them at the moment, Tom Baker, no Nate Ford. She knows she’s heard the name somewhere within her intelligent circles, but now isn’t the time to dig through her own memory.

“What the hell did you do to him?!” Eve demanded, her voice sharp and filled with unrestrained anger. “Who are you?”

Suddenly, Eve’s voice seemed to snap Cassandra back to reality. Without hesitation, she bolted toward the door. “Jacob! Wait!” she called, as she hurried after him.

Once Cassandra was gone, Eve turned her full attention back to Nate. Her tone dropped, cold and pointed. “I’m going to ask you again: who are you? And this time, don’t lie.”

Nate leaned back slightly against the conference table, an almost lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he raised his glass to take a sip of scotch. “Well, you seem to know everything already, don’t you? Why don’t you tell me?” His words slurred slightly, the alcohol in his system beginning to show.

Sophie stepped in quickly, her hands raised in a placating gesture. “Look, we didn’t approach your group to hurt or upset anyone, honest. All we wanted to do was help Eliot.”

“Yeah? And why is it that you all keep calling him that?” Ezekiel interjected, crossing his arms as his gaze darted between the group.

“Because that’s how we know him,” Parker said simply, her voice steady, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Jenkins glanced toward Eve, his expression grim. “Eliot… That’s the name the assailant at Marlowe’s grave used when he attacked Jacob.”

Eve’s jaw tightened as her gaze snapped back to Nate. “Enough games. Who are you and your team, and why do you keep calling Jacob, Eliot?”

Nate met her glare evenly, his demeanor calm but with a sharp edge beneath the surface. “We’ll answer you… if you answer some questions for us.”

Eve narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Nate’s voice was steady, despite the alcohol in his system. “You want us to reveal our secrets? Fine. But you show us your hand first, and then we’ll show you ours.”

Jenkins stepped forward, his tone clipped and disapproving. “This is hardly the time for negotiations, Mr. Ford.”

Before Eve could respond, the door opened, and Cassandra stepped back into the room, her face pale and worried. “I lost him,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I tried calling, but… I think he turned his phone off.”

Eve inhaled deeply, the weight of the situation settling heavily on her shoulders. She glanced at Jenkins briefly before turning back to Nate. “Fine,” she said curtly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You want answers? You’ll get them. But don’t think for a second that I’m letting my guard down with any of you.”

“What about Jacob, Eve?” Cassandra practically pleaded. 

“We’ll find him, Cassandra.” Eve sighed. “He… probably just needed a moment to himself.”

The intensity in the room was broken by the sudden sound of footsteps and a familiar, smug voice. “Well, I have good news for you all,” Sterling announced as he strode into the room, holding a file in his hand. “Keller’s been detained. Caught red-handed with stolen artifacts, no less and unsurprisingly. He’ll be on his way back to prison in no time.”

Sterling’s sharp gaze swept across the room, quickly noticing the obvious tension. “Huh.” He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he scanned each face. “Interesting vibe in here. Where’s Jacob?”

No one responded. Sterling’s eyes landed on Jenkins, and his eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. “And who’s this? New member of the team? Didn’t realize you were taking applications.” Sterling paused, his smirk growing wider as he took in the palpable unease hanging in the air. “Wait a minute… Did I just walk in on something dramatic?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing. “Should I… I don’t know, come back later?”

Hardison let out a frustrated groan, glaring at Sterling. “No, Sterling. We’re coming clean, alright? All of us. ”

Sterling’s grin widened as he sauntered more into the room “Coming clean, huh? Well, now this is interesting.” He crossed his arms with a theatrical flourish. “Give me a minute to grab some popcorn. Don’t start without me.”

At the long table, where the teams had first sat down together, now hosted the group, gathering under the dim glow of the overhead lights. Sterling leaned back casually in one of the chairs, a small bowl of popcorn balanced on his lap, his expression one of amused curiosity. Nate stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the room as if he were analyzing every angle of a con. Parker sat cross-legged in her chair, fidgeting with a stray pen, while Hardison typed furiously on his tablet, glancing up occasionally. Sophie leaned against the edge of the table, her calm demeanor masking the turmoil bubbling beneath the surface.


Across from them sat Eve Baird, her posture rigid, radiating quiet authority as her Guardian instincts stayed on high alert. Jenkins stood at her side, one hand resting on the back of a chair which held the Lævateinn, his gaze sharp and discerning as he surveyed the strangers. Cassandra, ever the eager optimist, perched at the edge of her seat, her hands gesturing animatedly as she prepared to speak, while Ezekiel lounged lazily, though his sharp eyes missed nothing.

Eve broke the heavy silence first, her tone clipped and professional. “The Library is far more than a collection of books. It is a repository of the world’s greatest knowledge, artifacts, and history. It exists to protect these items from falling into the wrong hands and to ensure they’re used responsibly. That’s why we have the roles of Guardian and Librarians. My job is to protect the Librarians so they can do theirs.” Her gaze swept over the Leverage team, daring them to challenge her words.

Jenkins, his usual gruff demeanor tinged with gravitas, straightened his back. “As for me, I am the Library’s caretaker. I’ve served it for centuries… literally. I ensure its operations run smoothly, maintain its archives, and guide the Librarians when they’re in the field. The Library is not just a place; it is a living entity, connected to magic, time, and the fate of the world itself. Without it, chaos would reign unchecked.”

Ezekiel shifted in his seat, flashing a wry smile as he chimed in. “And that’s where we come in, you know, the Librarians. We’re the ones who go out into the field, retrieve dangerous artifacts, solve ancient mysteries, and make sure the magic stays balanced. It’s not just about stopping bad guys; it’s about keeping the world from going completely insane. Plus we look damn good doing it.”

Cassandra nodded enthusiastically, her voice brimming with excitement. “I wouldn’t go that far about looks, but it’s not just history and artifacts! The Library is deeply tied to magic. It’s connected to ley lines, ancient spells, and forces we don’t fully understand. Magic is real, and the Library helps ensure it doesn’t spiral out of control.”

Sterling raised an eyebrow, tossing a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. “So, you’re telling me you’re magical treasure hunters and babysitters for ancient knick-knacks? Sounds thrilling.”

Jenkins shot him a withering glare, his voice cutting through Sterling’s sarcasm like a blade. “The stakes are far greater than you could comprehend, Mr. Sterling. The Library is a cornerstone of balance in the world. Without it, civilizations would collapse, power would corrupt absolutely, and the very fabric of reality could unravel. This is not a game.”

“It’s why we do what we do,” Cassandra added softly, “why we risk our lives. Because without the Library, there’s no safety, no protection from the chaos that magic can bring.”

A dry, humorless laugh broke the weight of the silence, drawing all eyes to Nate. He shook his head, a hint of disbelief on his face, as he gestured toward the group of Librarians. “I thought I was the drunk one here. Magic? Really? You expect us to believe that?” He leaned forward slightly, his trademark smirk playing at his lips. “Come on, I thought we were being upfront with each other. No more secrets.”

Eve, Cassandra, and Ezekiel exchanged knowing glances, a small, shared smile playing on each of their faces. Then, as if on cue, they all turned to Jenkins.

Jenkins rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh. “Very well. If words won’t suffice, allow me to provide you with something... tangible.” He strode toward the coat closet in the corner of the room, his gait purposeful yet calm.

Nate chuckled, raising his glass as he leaned back in his chair. “What, you’ve got a magician’s costume in there? Gonna pull a rabbit out of a hat next? Because honestly, Jenkins, that would probably sell me more than this whole ‘magic library’ pitch.”

Jenkins ignored the remark, muttering under his breath about “doubters and their insufferable skepticism.” He reached for the closet handle and pulled the door open. At first, all saw nothing but coats and a couple of empty hangers. Jenkins then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, intricate device resembling a pocket watch fused with glowing gears and arcane symbols. He deftly adjusted a few dials, and then the device emitted a faint hum and the air around the closet seemed to shimmer, and a bright blue light can be seen under the doorframe.

The simple space transformed into a glowing, otherworldly doorway that opened into the familiar interior of the Library annex, its shelves stacked high with books. “Behold,” Jenkins said, his voice rich with satisfaction, as he stepped aside to give everyone a clear view.

Those who were not used to this, stared in stunned silence, eyes wide. Parker tilted her head, muttering, “Oh, that’s cool.”

Hardison pointed at the doorway, then at Jenkins, and back again, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form words. Finally, he managed, “No way. That’s not real. That’s some kind of… projection, right? Like… VR? Augmented reality?”

Jenkins raised a brow, unimpressed. “Oh, it’s very real, I assure you.” He closed the door firmly, then reopened it, revealing only the mundane interior of the coat closet. “Satisfied?”

Nate’s smirk faltered, replaced by a look of cautious curiosity. “Well… I have to admit, that’s a neat trick.” He gestured at the closet with his glass, his tone skeptical but less dismissive. “Not saying I buy the whole magic thing just yet, but… I’m a little more inclined to believe you.”

Eve crossed her arms, her expression cool as she replied, “Good. Because whether you believe it or not, this isn’t a trick. It’s real. And so is the danger we’re facing.”

Nate leaned forward, tapping a thoughtful finger on his glass, his mind clearly turning over this new piece of information. “I guess it’s our turn now?” 

~*~

Leverage POV

Nate leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping across the room. He exhaled deeply, setting his glass of scotch down. “Alright, cards on the table. My name is Nathan Ford. Former insurance investigator turned… well, let’s say I help people now. And this is my crew: Sophie Devereaux, Alec Hardison, and Parker.”

Sophie offered a polished smile, her voice smooth and confident. “I’m the grifter. My job is to… persuade people. Whether it’s pretending to be a diplomat, a CEO, or even a queen, I make people believe what I need them to.”

Hardison raised his hand slightly, offering a more casual tone. “I’m the hacker, though ‘genius’ works too. I handle all things tech so surveillance, infiltration, you name it. If it’s digital, I own it.”

Parker leaned forward slightly, her expression curious yet unapologetic. “I’m the thief. The best one. I get into places no one else can. Vaults, secure facilities, you name it. If it can be stolen, I’ll take it.”

Ezekiel’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open in stunned recognition. “Wait— you’re Parker? The Parker? No way! I’ve heard about you. You’re a legend! I mean, I always knew I was good, but I can’t believe I out-thieved you .”

Parker’s head snapped toward him, her eyebrows furrowing in challenge. “What? You didn’t out-thief me! When?”

Ezekiel crossed his arms, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Oh, I don’t know. Remember the Crown Jewels incident? Yeah, I was there. Beat you to it by a solid minute.”

Parker sat up straighter, a mix of indignation and disbelief on her face. “That doesn’t count! I wasn’t even going after the jewels. I was after the security system design for a later job!”

“Oh, come on, excuses-” Ezekiel began, but Eve raised her hands sharply, cutting them both off.

“That’s enough,” Eve said firmly, glancing between the two of them. “We’re not here to compare résumés. Let’s get back to the point.”

Nate gave a faint smile before continuing, his tone sobering. “We do this because the world doesn’t always protect the people who need it most. Corporations, governments… they take advantage of the little guy. We step in when no one else will. We don’t just take people down; we make them pay for their crimes. That’s who we are.”

Eve crossed her arms, her sharp eyes narrowing. “And Sterling? How does someone like him fit into your little band of vigilantes?”

Nate’s smirk returned. “Sterling and I go way back. We used to work together at IYS, the insurance company. Let’s just say we’ve never been on the best of terms, but occasionally, we’ve found ourselves… mutually useful.”

Sterling, still lounging with his popcorn, remarked dryly, “Let’s get one thing straight, I’m only here as a favor to Mr. Spencer or Stone, whichever he prefers to call himself. Don’t mistake this for fondness, because there isn’t any.”

Nate’s brow furrowed at Sterling’s words. “fondness?” he echoed, giving him a questioning look.

Sterling ignored the inquiry, focusing on the bowl of popcorn in his lap.

Cassandra, who had been quiet, suddenly asked, “Why do you keep calling Jacob ‘Eliot’?”

The Leverage team exchanged uneasy glances. Sophie finally broke the silence, her voice gentle yet firm. “Because that’s who he is, or who he was to us at least. Eliot Spencer worked with us. He was our protector, our ‘guardian,’ in a way not too different from what Colonel Baird does for you.”

Ezekiel raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. “Doesn’t seem like Jake felt that way about twenty minutes ago.”

Parker’s gaze dropped slightly, her voice softer than usual. “A few months ago, Eliot went back home to help his dad. He didn’t come back. We found out later he was in an accident, and he… he lost his memory.”

Ezekiel frowned, his expression turning sharp. “Wait? Memory loss?”

Cassandra’s face fell as she hesitated before speaking. “He told me about that recently. He said it was hard enough dealing with it lately as he had these flashes… and the pain.”

“Eve, did you know about this?” 

“He just told me.”

“Why didn’t he tell me about this important tidbit of information?” Ezekiel scoffed.

Cassandra looked at him apologetically. “Because he didn’t want you to know, or any of us. He wanted to prove himself, to show he could still be useful to the team, that he wasn’t a liability.”

Sophie nodded knowingly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “That part of Eliot never changed, I see. He always carried more than he needed to.”

Hardison’s voice softened as he leaned forward. “And that’s why we agreed to help you get the journal, to help him, to see if Eliot remembered us. But it looks like we just messed everything up worse.”

The group fell into an uneasy silence, to which Jenkins was the first to break. “Well, it appears this discussion has reached its natural conclusion. If there’s nothing more, I will secure Lævateinn back in the Annex.” He moved as if to leave, reaching for the weapon.

“Hang on,” Nate continued, stopping Jenkins in his tracks. “Before you go… tell me about the Serpent Brotherhood.”

The older man froze, his expression shifting into something between shock and suspicion. “How do you know that name?”

Eve’s brow furrowed. “I mentioned it to him,” she admitted before turning to Nate. “Why do you want to know?”

Nate and Sophie exchanged a knowing look before Sophie took the lead. “Back during the auction, when Eliot went after Keller, I followed a woman whom he referred to as ‘Lamia’. Nate and I saw her with an older man, white hair, bad taste in suits.”

Jenkins' eyes darkened. “Dulaque.”

“But that’s not all.” Nate added on, “They weren’t alone.”

Cassandra looked between Nate and Sophie, curiosity piqued. “What else did you see?”

Sophie took a breath. “We think they have the journal you were looking for.”

Jenkins’ eyes narrowed. “And you know this how?”

“Oh, we saw a conveniently book-shaped bundle being carried away. Very subtle.” Nate smirked wryly.

The Librarians, Eve, and Jenkins shared troubled glances.

Eve exhaled sharply. “Alright, then we need to get that book back. If they don’t have the key, that at least buys us some time.”

Ezekiel groaned, crossing his arms. “Great, so they have the book, and we don’t have the key. They’re already a step ahead.”

“Not necessarily.” Cassandra’s voice cut through his frustration. Her eyes gleamed as she stared into space, fingers twitching slightly as if working through a mental puzzle. “Think about the book. Remember the inscription? And the indentation on the cover—it wasn’t just decorative. If my math is correct, which it always is, it matches the exact geometric shape of the stone we found in Marlowe’s grave.”

Eve’s eyes widened. “So… not entirely bad news. Who had the stone last?”

Ezekiel shrugged. “Well, I pocketed it, but when we got back to the Annex, Stone wanted to take a look at the glowy gem. Something about dating its composition to see if it was synthetically produced or not.”

Eve gave him a skeptical look. “And you remember that? Verbatim?”

Ezekiel scoffed. “I listen sometimes, alright?”

Nate took that moment to steer the conversation back on track. His expression turned more serious. “There might be another problem.”

Jenkins’ sharp gaze landed on him. “And what would that be?”

Nate exhaled, glancing at Sophie before looking back at the group. “Damien Moreau was with Dulaque and Lamia.”

Cassandra paled. “Wait… Damien? You don’t mean—” She trailed off, recalling what Jacob had told her about meeting an old friend named Damien.

Sophie confirmed it. “We believe that Damien is lying to Eliot, claiming they were friends or something like that. But the truth is, Eliot used to work for him... before he joined our team.”

Ezekiel frowned. “So why would he be lying to him?”

Hardison’s tone was grim. “Because Damien Moreau is a bad dude. Arms dealer, drug trafficker, international crime boss, he’s got his hands in all sorts of nasty business. We spent an entire job bringing him down. And if he’s here, that means trouble.”

The room grew even heavier, but Hardison wasn’t done. His voice dropped lower, his expression hardening. “And… before that job... Eliot told us the worst thing he’s ever done was for Damien Moreau.”

~*~

Jacob’s Eliot’s Jaciot’s POV

Jacob barely registered the sound of the door slamming behind him, too lost in the storm raging inside his mind. His grip on the half-empty bottle of scotch tightened as he stalked down the hallway, his breathing uneven.

Who the hell am I?

The thoughts came fast and relentless, one crashing into the next before he could make sense of them.

Nate said I called him, saying our cover was blown. That I was on the floor, my ribs getting kicked in… I remember fighting. I remember Quinn.

His pulse pounded in his ears.

Why’d I call that man Hardison? Why does that name feel familiar?

He reached the stairs, descending them two at a time, his breath uneven. The images wouldn’t stop. Flashes of violence, pain, betrayal. A man’s boot slamming into his ribs. His own voice, hoarse, calling for- someone… Nate. The weight of failure pressed against his chest, suffocating.

Jacob shoved through the entrance of the bar, moving quickly, head down, shoulders tight. The cold night air barely registered as he walked, gripping the bottle of scotch like it was the only thing anchoring him. Then he collided with someone.

The impact jolted him, but he barely reacted beyond muttering, “Sorry,” as he brushed past. He didn’t bother looking up. Didn’t care who it was.

A voice followed him. Sharp. Familiar. Distinctly English. “Spencer?”

Jacob hesitated for half a second, something in the name tugging at the tangled mess in his mind, but the thought slipped away before he could catch it. He kept walking.

Behind him, Sterling watched, frowning.

He knew that voice too. Didn’t he? But it didn’t matter. Not now. His fingers tightened around the bottle as he pressed forward. Jacob continued walking, barely noticing his surroundings. 

When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he fished it out without thinking.

Cassandra

He stared at the screen for a second, heart pounding, the name sending another wave of confusion through him. He could still hear her voice in his head, calling after him.

"Jacob! Wait!"

A spike of pain shot through his skull.

With a sharp inhale, he silenced the phone, then turned it off completely. He needed quiet. No more voices. No more questions.

The cold night air bit at his skin, but he barely felt it as he walked. His feet carried him with no destination in mind, only the overwhelming need to be away. Away from the questions, away from the accusations, away from the people who all seemed to know him better than he knew himself.

By the time he found himself at the riverfront, the city lights reflecting off the dark water, his grip on the bottle had loosened.

Finally alone, Jacob twisted the cap off and took a deep, burning swig.

Maybe, just maybe, the scotch would quiet the war in his head.

The waterfront stretched out before him, dark waters reflecting the dim city lights. Jacob sat on the edge, legs stretched out, shoulders slumped. The empty bottle of scotch dangled loosely in his grip, though he hadn’t realized it was empty until he tipped it back for another swig and… nothing. With a sigh, he set the bottle down beside him, fingers lingering on the glass for a moment before he pulled his hand away. The buzz in his head softened the edges of his thoughts, dulled the storm raging in his mind, but it didn’t erase it. The memories still pressed in, fragmented flashes of voices, faces, things he should remember but didn’t.

Footsteps approached behind him. Three sets. Uneven and deliberate.

“Look what we got here,” one of the men said, his voice cocky, laced with amusement.

Jacob sighed again, slower this time, before pushing himself to his feet, while grabbing the empty bottle of scotch in the process. He turned, gaze flicking over the three of them. He immediately observed the cheap jackets, twitchy movements, and their eyes scanning him like he was a payday.

“Listen,” Eliot drawled, cracking his neck as he squared his shoulders. “I’ve had a real bad day. Best thing for you to do is turn around an’ walk away.”

The leader, a wiry guy with a shaved head, chuckled. “That so? And what happens if we don’t?”

Eliot tilted his head, rolling his shoulders. “Then you get hurt.”

The man next to him, stockier, sneered and pulled up his jacket just enough to reveal a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “Nah, see, what happens is, you hand over everything you got, and we walk away. That’s how this goes.”

Eliot exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. He reached down, fingers curling around the empty scotch bottle. He gave it a slight toss in his hand before gripping it firmly.

“Well, see, this was the only thing I got,” he said, raising the bottle slightly. “And it’s empty. Don’t know how much use it'll be to you.”

The man with the gun took a step closer. Eliot did too.

“Last chance, man,” the thug warned, now drawing the weapon fully and pointing it at Eliot’s chest.

Eliot’s grip on the bottle tightened for a split second before he moved.

In one swift motion, he stepped in, swung the bottle, and shattered it over the man’s head. The thug crumpled instantly, the gun slipping from his grasp. Eliot caught it midair, ejecting the cartridge with practiced ease before flipping it open and dumping the chamber. The bullets clattered against the pavement.

The two remaining men hesitated, just long enough for Eliot to lunge.

He ducked under a wild punch from the stocky one, driving an elbow into his ribs before twisting his arm behind his back and sending him face-first into the nearest railing. The third guy tried to swing at him from behind, but Eliot was already moving, sidestepping the punch and delivering a sharp knee to his gut. Then a precise jab to his temple that sent him crashing to the ground.

The stocky one staggered back up, shaking off the hit. He went for Eliot again, but Eliot caught him mid-swing, twisting his wrist and forcing him to the ground with a sharp, pained grunt.

For a few beats, there was only the sound of labored breathing and the lapping of water against the docks.

Eliot took a step back, shaking out his hands. He glanced down at the unconscious leader, then at the other two groaning on the ground.

“Yeah,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders. “That’s what I thought.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving them where they lay. Eliot had barely taken a few steps when he felt it, a warm, wet sensation spreading across his dominant hand. He glanced down and exhaled sharply through his nose. Blood.

A shard of glass from the broken bottle had embedded itself in his palm, a jagged piece glinting under the dim streetlights. The edges of the wound pulsed, stinging now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, flexing his fingers slightly to assess the damage. It wasn’t deep, but it wasn’t nothing either.

With an irritated sigh, he ripped out the shard of glass and tossed it aside. Just another damn thing to deal with. He thought to himself.

Eliot took a shaky breath, shaking his injured hand slightly as he turned to walk away. The fight had done little to clear his mind, and the alcohol still sat heavy in his system, making his steps uneven. He wasn’t exactly walking in a straight line, his balance just slightly off, not enough to stumble, but enough to be noticeable.

As he made his way down the sidewalk, the low hum of an approaching engine caught his attention. A sleek, luxury car rolled up to the curb, its dark paint gleaming under the dim streetlights.

Eliot tensed instinctively, his muscles coiling as he prepared for whatever came next. He didn’t have a weapon, and his dominant hand was still bleeding, but that had never stopped him before… that much he recalls.

Eliot blinked, his hazy mind struggling to process the familiar face in front of him. His instincts told him to be on edge, but the alcohol dulled that reaction, leaving only confusion.

“Damien?” His voice was rough, Eliot’s words came out slow and somewhat slurred.. “What the hell are you doin’ here?”

Moreau’s expression was unreadable, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Just keeping an eye on an old friend.”

Eliot frowned at the vague answer, but before he could press further, Damien’s gaze dropped to his hand. “Though it looks like you could use some help.” Damien tsked, stepping closer. “Come on, let’s get that taken care of. No need to make a mess of yourself.”

Damien stepped closer, his movements smooth and deliberate as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He unfolded it with care and, without a word, gently pressed it to the bleeding wound on Eliot's hand, wrapping it with practiced ease. The tenderness in his touch was oddly soothing, yet something about it felt off.

Jacob’s head swam with a sudden flash of a memory: faint, like a dream slipping through his fingers. He saw himself, younger, injured, with Damien kneeling beside him, wrapping a similar cloth around a wound. It was quick, efficient, but there was something deeper behind the gesture... an intimacy.

Eliot’s breath caught in his throat as the image flickered and faded. He blinked, shaking off the dizzying feeling.

“This…” He looked at Damien, his voice unsteady, but there was no denying the weight of the thought. “This isn’t the first time you’ve helped me like this, is it?”

Damien glanced up at him, and for the first time, the usual smirk faded slightly. He nodded, though there was something guarded in his expression. "You’ve been in situations like this before, my friend," he said quietly, continuing to tend to the wound. "I’ve been there for you… when you needed someone."

Damien finished securing the handkerchief around Jacob's hand, making sure it was tight enough to stop the bleeding but not too tight to cause more discomfort. He stood up and gave Eliot a scrutinizing look, his expression thoughtful, yet oddly neutral.

“So, what happened?” Damien asked, his voice steady but with a subtle curiosity. 

Jacob glanced down at his hand, flexing his fingers slightly. It wasn’t as bad as it felt, but the alcohol in his system was making everything blurry. He waved it off dismissively, his tone flat. “A couple of guys tried to rob me. No big deal.” He started to turn, feeling the weight of the alcohol pulling on his muscles. “I handled it.”

Damien didn’t budge, his gaze sharpening as he leaned slightly closer. His eyes flicked over Eliot’s posture, the slight sway in his step, the telltale slur in his voice. "No," he said slowly, almost with a hint of amusement, "I wasn't talking about the fight."

Jacob’s head snapped up, and he furrowed his brow, momentarily confused. "Then what are you talkin' about?" he muttered, not sure if he was more irritated or just tired of the conversation.

Damien smirked, his eyes narrowing as he looked Eliot up and down. “I’m talking about why you smell like an entire bottle of scotch and look like you’re one strong wind from falling over." His tone wasn’t judgmental, just observant, like he’d seen this side of Jacob before.

Eliot's lips pressed into a tight line. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the alcohol made it difficult to focus. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to admit how much it had been gnawing at him, how much he couldn’t handle anymore. He glanced away, his eyes shifting toward the ground as he let out a shaky breath. "Just... had a bad night," he muttered, hoping Damien would let it go.

Damien studied him for a moment longer, as though weighing his options. But instead of pressing, he let out a quiet sigh and clapped him on the shoulder, an oddly comforting gesture. “We’ve all had those,” he said softly. “But you know, sometimes you don’t have to carry it all by yourself.” His words hung in the air, lingering between them.

Jacob’s shoulders tensed, a familiar unease creeping up his spine. Something was wrong.

For a moment, the world around him seemed distant, muted. A voice, his own but sharper, clearer, echoed in his mind.

"Get away. Punch him in the face. Do something."

His fingers twitched at his sides, clenching slightly before relaxing again. His mind warred with itself, his gut screaming one thing while the haze of alcohol and confusion tried to push him in another direction.

Damien watched him, patient, knowing. Then, slowly, he reached up and ran a hand through Eliot’s short hair, his touch slow and deliberate. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?” he murmured, his tone laced with something Jacob couldn’t quite place.

The world around him flickered. Suddenly, he wasn’t standing on the street anymore.

The air was warm. The scent of chlorine and expensive liquor lingered around him. He and Damien were by a pool, with rippling water reflecting the glow of the night. Damien was sitting next to him, impossibly close, his fingers combing through Eliot’s hair in the same lazy, practiced way.

"What’s going on in that mind of yours?" The words were the same. The tone, just as smooth.

Before Eliot could respond, Damien leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Is there anything I can do to make those thoughts go away?"

The memory snapped like a rubber band, yanking Jacob back to the present. He staggered a step back, breathing uneven, his entire body coiled with tension. He could still feel the ghost of that moment, lingering, unsettling. He knew something was wrong, but he didn’t know why.

Damien tilted his head, watching him carefully.

“I don’t trust you,” Eliot said finally, his voice gruff, uncertain.

Damien smirked. “Why not?”

Jacob opened his mouth, then closed it again. The truth was, he wasn’t sure. His instincts screamed at him, but his memories betrayed him. It felt like he should trust Damien, like there was a history between them. And yet…

“I just know I shouldn’t.”

Damien chuckled, his smirk widening as he took a slow step closer. “And yet, you’re here. You didn’t walk away.” He let the words settle, watching the flicker of conflict in Jacob’s eyes. Then, his voice dropped to something softer, more insidious. “You put your faith in Tom Baker - Nate Ford. A liar. A manipulator. A man who twists the truth so well he believes it himself.”

Jacob clenched his jaw, the dull ache in his head sharpening as he tried to fight through the fog in his mind. Think. Remember.

Nothing. The more he reached for the missing pieces, the further away they seemed to slip. His breath came slower, more controlled as he tried to will something, anything ,to the surface.

Damien watched him struggle, his smirk fading into something more careful. Then, he lifted a hand, fingers ghosting over Eliot’s cheek, his touch deliberate. He brushed away a stray strand of hair, his fingertips lingering before he leaned in.

And then, he kissed him. It was slow, measured. Testing.

Eliot’s mind shattered back into focus. His body reacted before his brain could catch up—he shoved Damien back, hard, his breath coming quicker now, his balance only slightly thrown off by the lingering alcohol in his system.

“The hell are you doin’?” Jacob snapped, his voice edged with frustration and something else—something raw.

Damien snickered, utterly unbothered. “What? Would you have preferred I asked first? You never had a problem with it before.”

Eliot glared at him, jaw tight. His mind raced, but then… Silence.

For the first time all night, the thoughts in his head quieted. No overwhelming noise, no chaotic storm of fragmented memories. He could hear the hum of distant traffic, the gentle lapping of water against the riverfront, the cool breeze rustling past him. He exhaled slowly, the stillness catching him off guard.

Damien’s voice broke through the moment. “Come with me.”

Eliot’s gaze flicked back to him, wary. “Why?”

Damien’s smile was softer now, careful. “You know that I’ve known you for a long time. Longer than those new friends of yours, longer than those liars on Nate Ford’s team.” His voice was smooth, reassuring. “I told you a little when we last spoke, but if you want to know who you really are, come with me. I’ll tell you everything… I promise. There are gaps in your memory, my friend. Let me fill them.”

Eliot’s stomach twisted.

Everything in him screamed that this was a mistake. But the silence… the quiet in his mind… He hesitated, the weight of his uncertainty settling in his chest.

Damien’s smirk returned as he glanced back toward his car. “Well,” he said lightly, “my car’s still running. If you’re coming, now’s the time.”

Jacob’s fingers twitched at his sides. His head was beginning to hurt again. Damien turned as if to leave, taking the silence as an answer. Jacob let him take a few steps before something in him snapped. “Wait.”

Damien stopped, glancing back just as Jacob started following him.

With every step, the quiet in Eliot’s Jacob’s his head remained.

And for now, that was enough.