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Throughout his entire life, Ezekiel had never met a thief that wasn't nosy. It came with the territory since so much vital information could slip into casual conversations without the speaker even realising it. People gave away their mother's maiden names, spoke about company issues and weak spots in their building's security, told where they were supposed to be going on vacation away from their big mansions, the name of their side piece and more. Casual conversation was a goldmine to a thief like him. A thief who'd had the advantage of a nondescript appearance and a light step.
Whilst he still used those skills with all of the discernment and morality and standards that he held, he'd recently turned his skills more towards the security of the Library and its Staff. Colonel Baird already had a good foundation, what with her time in the Army and NATO, so he worried about her the least when it came to letting things like security questions or backdoor placements slip around strangers. The rest… Well, he was working on making sure no one could get information or leverage on them.
The mundane side of things were about as secure as they could get, but the magical side was where he kept hitting roadblocks. There were at least thirty million ways to learn about weak spots in the Library or the Staff's weaknesses using magic and he hadn't learned enough to get that number down. There were, of course, spells and sigils and formulas and more built into the Library's foundations that limited these leaks, but people came up with new ways all the time and Jenkins was the one with both the most and least information out in the world in general given he was a literal living legend.
The day he learned how to properly collect and protect data in the magical world would be a great day, but he knew he probably had years before he managed that even with the Library's resources and Jenkins' help.
He shook the thoughts off and continued winding his way through the Library to help with setting up decorations. He had time now that he'd done his sweep of the Library for any remnants of D.O.S.A. spyware and general reminders of the organisation breaking in at all. He was pretty sure he'd gotten everything, but he'd found an agency patch underneath one of the desks too recently to stop just yet.
Familiar laughter gave him pause. There was a strange lilt to the laughter and, being nosy, he decided to take a quick peek just to get an idea of if he would be turning around and finding a different way to the recreation room.
Jenkins scowled half-heartedly as Santa tweaked his bow-tie with a playful grin.
Whatever they were saying was too quiet for Ezekiel to catch, but it seemed that Santa was trying to break the other man's mask, which wasn't exactly unusual. Especially if he was more Nikolaos than Jolly Ol' Saint Nick. Given the mischievous smile, it wasn't far-fetched.
Santa leaned back with his head cocked and Jenkins' mask cracked instantly with a grin.
To Ezekiel's surprise, Jenkins hooked his fingers into Santa's vest and pulled him closer, leaning forward with a whisper.
The instant that he realised they were going to kiss—without a mistletoe as an excuse either— Ezekiel ducked back around the corner and scurried away on silent feet.
Nope! No. None of my business, he thought with a shudder.
Not that thinking that erased it from his memory or made the uneasy feeling creeping into him go away. An uneasy feeling that he was, unfortunately, familiar with and hadn't had the best track record of ignoring.
He was gonna try anyway.
Near the second he entered the recreation room, Cassandra had caught sight of him and roped him into holding the ladder so that she could put tinsel on the top of the tree.
"Where'd Stone go?" Ezekiel asked as he grasped the ladder and held it steady.
"He went to grab another box of ornaments," she answered easily without pausing in her task.
He rolled his eyes. "Do you have to try and outdo yourself every year?"
She turned and dropped tinsel onto his head. "I'm just trying to make it special."
Ezekiel opened his mouth and closed it immediately.
While every Christmas that they didn't die could be considered special, the fact of the matter was that having Christmases with Cassandra at all was a reason to celebrate. Without the threat of the brain grape, which had done its damndest to make sure she wouldn't see the last Christmas, every single year with her was a miracle. He couldn't exactly say that, though, since it was still a sensitive topic. Flippant as he could be, he wouldn't be broaching that subject any time soon.
He doubted that he'd be quick to forget how agonizing it had been to wait in the hospital to hear news on if the redhead had survived the surgery.
"Oh, nice of you to show up, Jones!" Jacob said while entering with a box. After he set it down, he rose and clapped his hands onto the thief's shoulders. "Thought you were gonna ditch us."
Ezekiel gave a wry smile. "Thought about it, but I figured you guys needed my expertise on decorating."
The cowboy snorted and let his hands fall away. "Whatever."
"Jake! Could you start putting the ornaments on the bottom half of the tree?" Cassandra asked from her perch.
"Yeah—be careful leaning on that thing. Just get off and let Jones move it."
Ezekiel shared a look with Cassandra before she complied with the mother hen's wishes.
If there was one thing that would never change in Jacob Stone, no matter who he was around, it was the fact that he was a big brother and he would fuss over anyone if given half a chance.
Cassandra directed them in decorating with all of the precision of an interior decorator and was more exacting than a drill sergeant. By the time they finished, Ezekiel was pretty sure he could throw up tinsel and gingerbread men and no one would question it.
"Perfect! Do you think Santa'll like it?" Cassandra asked excitedly.
"If he doesn't, I'm sure Mrs. Claus will," Jacob shrugged.
That uncomfortable feeling was back and all that he could do was grin and bear it. "It oozes Christmas spirit. Better than last year."
God, he hated having a conscience. He was just glad he had no part in the group vacation that Carsen, Colonel Baird and Jenkins were going on with the Clauses because he wasn't sure that he would be able to stomach looking Mrs. Claus in the eye.
"I thought I felt the Christmas Spirit!"
Is there a single deity that cares about my Christmas spirit?
"Mrs. Claus!" Cassandra squealed as she rushed over to give the woman a hug that would have sent them to the ground had her target been any less sturdy or unaware. "I thought we wouldn't see you until you swung by to pick up Flynn and Eve."
"I was already here to plan the vacation and decided that I couldn't leave without seeing my favourite Librarian," The silver-haired woman said as she pinched Cassandra's cheek.
The woman was a knockout. Her eyes had this unique quality where one would assume that they were hazel except for how vibrant they were in whatever color they chose to be: green, blue, brown, even violet. No matter their color, they had the same gleam of warm mischief.
He couldn't look her in the eyes as she approached for a hug.
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you three mind watching the sleigh whilst we're gone? We can't exactly have it parked in a tropical area without questions and the Backdoor makes it so convenient for Santa to pop up to do his job."
"The sleigh'll be here?" Ezekiel asked excitedly.
"To watch it, not use it," she reminded with a pointed look.
He gave an innocent smile and glanced into her green eyes with that sickening feeling in his stomach.
Ignoring that discomfort wasn't exactly an option at this point. The worst part was that he was self-aware enough to know exactly what it was and why he was feeling it.
Guilt. He hated feeling guilt more than any other emotion. It drove him mad and forced him to do things that would seem out of character such as butting into something that he had zero stakes in.
He'd seen how devastated his mum, his sisters had been when someone had cheated on them. He'd comforted them and taken retribution because no one hurt his family without consequences. It was something that he could never forgive and was incapable of ignoring no matter how far removed from the situation he was.
Being a criminal didn't mean he didn't have standards. He liked a challenge, he liked putting down people that had stepped on the necks of everyone that got them to where they were. Most of the criminals he'd ever respected weren't afraid to roll up their sleeves and patch up a wall in an old man's home or give their drug money to youth centers or buy groceries for a single mother. He'd never respected someone that would cheat on someone that loved them.
A good runner up to guilt was conflicted and the combination was killing him.
Jenkins, as secretive and cantankerous as he could be, was a good man. He had saved their lives more times than Ezekiel cared to count and had, to his knowledge, always done the right thing, even when he didn’t particularly want to. It was hard to think the worst of a man who had protected him after he'd been bitten and sat with him all night to keep him from turning into a werewolf. Hard, but not impossible. Not after the reveal of having a woman locked in the basement for a hundred years. Ezekiel would never defend him for anything like this.
"Well, I'd best be off," Mrs. Claus said. "I'll see you lovelies later."
Sensing his opportunity, Ezekiel fell into step with the woman with a charming smile. "I'll walk you to the door."
"That'd be lovely," she cheered with a knowing glint in her eyes.
He ignored the looks from his fellow Librarians and walked beside the woman—goddess, really—through the Annex at a leisurely pace. He was kind of glad that they weren't in a rush since he hadn't exactly planned how to say it. He couldn't say that he knew her well enough to know what the best approach would be.
"Is there something you'd like to ask?" Mrs. Claus asked suddenly.
He startled slightly and gave an easy smile to hide how anxious he was. "Nah, but I have something to tell. I just don't like butting into your business."
"But you're gonna do it anyway. I can admire that." She stopped walking to face him properly and looked at him sympathetically. "What's troubling you?"
He sighed and let his shoulders slumped. "Do you know how friendly Santa and Jenkins are?"
Her eyebrow quirked up. "We've known each other for centuries, of course they would be friendly."
He couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Not like that… I saw Jenkins kissing Santa Claus."
Her violet eyes sparkled with amusement and gratitude. It was such an unexpected reaction that he froze when she patted his cheek in that way only mothers ever seemed capable of.
"Thank you for telling me, Ezekiel, but I already know. The three of us are quite happy with this arrangement."
There was a violent twist of emotions. Of annoyance and confusion and relief. He'd wasted his time worrying about something that didn't even need his intervention… Then again, if he'd kept it to himself, he would've never been able to live with himself.
"Oh… Well, you're welcome, I guess," he shrugged.
She sighed quietly with a large smile. "You have a good day, young man."
"You, too."
He slipped off with his chest feeling tight, but it was with pure relief. He hadn't wanted to think the worst of Jenkins (or Santa, really, but he hadn't worked nearly as closely with him). The Knight was… well, he was a friend and he admired him for all that he scoffed at his lectures. He was someone to look up to and Ezekiel really hadn't had that many men to look up to in his life.
For most of his life, he'd looked at the men around him and found things he never wanted to be. He didn't want to be a swindler looking for easy targets, he didn't want to step on people's necks to get ahead. He didn't want to be feared. Jenkins was one of the few men that Ezekiel had looked at and found traits that he wanted to have in himself. He wanted to be clever and brave, but most of all he wanted to protect those that were his. Jenkins, for all of his faults (and some were glaringly obvious), had all of that.
Should've known the Library wouldn't keep anyone like that, Ezekiel thought while slipping back into the recreation room for whatever Cassandra had planned for the rest of their day.
He grinned at the sight of their backs to the door and snuck forward until he could peer around Jacob's shoulder. "Whatcha guys looking at?"
Both jumped out of their skin at the sound of his voice. They were so easy to sneak up on when they weren't out in the field.
Jacob glared at him. "One of these days I'm gonna hit you when you scare me and I'm not gonna feel bad about it."
"That day isn't today."
Cassandra rolled her eyes at them. "Help us pick out a movie. The Santa Clause or A Christmas Vacation?"
Sensing the opportunity to be a troll, he asked, "Isn't that first one where ol' Saint Nick learns to walk? Y'know? Put one foot in front of the other thing?"
He grinned at their incredulous reactions, listening to them try to explain different Christmas movies. He kept purposefully mixing them up and calling them the wrong names until Cassandra seemed to catch on that he was messing with him and decided to put on The Santa Clause. It was about as corny as he remembered it, but all Christmas movies were as far as he was concerned.
They had an entire movie marathon, eating snacks and making jokes about whatever was on. It was reminiscent of sitting around the living room with his sisters after their mum had gone to bed. Man, he missed his family…
"I dunno about y'all, but I'm gonna go ahead and head to bed. G'night," Jacob groaned as he stood to his feet.
"Night, Jake," Cassandra called with a wave. "Ezekiel, mind helping me clean?"
"I mind, but I'll do it," he shrugged.
Cassandra sang carols as they cleaned up and Ezekiel couldn't say that he didn't enjoy it. He didn't know why she said that she couldn't sing, she was better than half of the people he'd heard over the years. Ezekiel twisted the trashbag until he could tie it off and set it aside for them to deal with in the morning.
"Hi, Jenkins," Cassandra greeted.
"Good evening, Miss Cillian," the man said pleasantly. "I came to steal Mr. Jones, if you don't mind."
"Oh, of course. Have a good night!"
Jenkins crooked his finger. "Come along. Let's throw away the trash."
Ezekiel grabbed the trash bag and followed the older man with a furrow to his brow. "Alright, old man."
They walked in silence the entire way to the dumpster where Jenkins finally broke his silence.
"I heard you spoke with Mrs. Claus."
He stiffened and puffed out his chest as he faced the Knight. "Yeah. What of it?"
"Thank you for looking out for her," Jenkins said with an earnest expression. "Not many feel the need, what with her having been a Norse goddess in her first incarnation."
Ezekiel blinked and leaned back a little. "Oh… I mean, I guess. I don't like cheaters."
"As well you shouldn't. I'm glad to know that sentimentality doesn't cloud your judgement."
The thief scoffed. "I'm not a sentimental guy."
"Ah, yes. I forgot," the Caretaker deadpanned. After a moment, his expression softened and he reached out to ruffle the younger man's hair. "You're a good man. I'm proud of you, my boy."
Ezekiel didn't move away and felt a strange lightness in his chest over the praise. With a cocky smile he said, "I'm proud of me, too."
Jenkins seemed to see through the facade, but he said nothing more than, "Happy Christmas, Ezekiel."
He couldn't stop himself from grinning back at the use of his name. "Happy Christmas, Jenkins."