Work Text:
It was still day outside the bookstore. The newspaper-laden shop windows ate away at the most of the sunlight while the row of old semiopaque glass above allowed a grey tinge through. Orange table lamps throughout the shop broke the gloom with their warm, faint glow, like beacons to the lost.
Cole always found them already turned on whenever he'd stay at the shop. He figured it was more for Cassie's convenience than his. Working in the dark didn't faze him anymore, what with electricity being such a luxury back in 2043. Still, this was much better.
Cole looked over the pile of documents stacked on every even surface. Finding more information about operation "Troy" and the "Twelve Monkeys" was proving troublesome. Consequently, the proper organisation of files took a dive in the list of priorities, as both him and Cass devoured through every information that they could get their hands on. So much for folders organised by coloured schemes, he thought, running his finger over one such collection, tiny writing on the coloured labels. How did Cassie assign each colour to each topic, he wondered?
On that thought, he looked up from the files to observe Cassie. She had wandered into the kitchen, her back to him, as she operated the appliances. Curious. As a survivor, Cole had been taught to be much like a hawk, ever watchful for inconsistencies. The splatter of fresh blood on dried leaves. The thin wire suspended over the floor all the way to the explosive hidden in the corner.
Cassie somehow managed to blend into the background in their quiet hours working at the bookshop without disturbing him. Moreso curious since he was a guy that often needed his space: he just wasn't much of a talker, afterall. He wasn't even trying to ignore her; on the contrary, somehow, Cole was well aware of every one of her movements. Still, Cassie managed to just be... there.
Which was fine. The quiet focus appealed to him, for the most part, when they worked together. He once thought that the less pointless talk and more distance to be found between them probably meant a more efficient working relationship as far as the mission was concerned. He still didn't disagree with the logic of it. But it was a situation that he didn't care for anymore, given his further interest in Cassie. Something he felt for her that went beyond stopping the world from going to hell.
The current status quo between them wasn't so bad. They talked on occasion; getting him to talk about himself appealed to her, for some reason. He let her touch him; a pat in the back, a brush of the fingers on eachother's skin. Was it enough? He hadn't figured out yet what else could he do better. Or whether he was no more than a delusional third-wheel.
It was like fixing a toy back when he was a kid at this father's workshop. He didn't know how and he hated being stuck.
The warm, scent of coffee reached his nostrils. Cassie turned around on her heel, leaving the kitchen with a trail of steam rising from her coffee mug, only to find Cole looking away from some vague point to her. When a quiet moment passed them by, she broke the silence:
"Did you want some coffee?"
"What- ah," Cole shook his head. "No, thanks."
"You can have mine, really. I don't mind making another."
"I'm just not a fan of coffee," with that, Cole looked down at the list of doomsday cults, none of which were known for a predilection for monkeys. That would've been too easy.
He could make coffee. Yeah, he could that for her. Would she like that?
Cassie nodded to herself and sipped the contents of her mug. She couldn't help but think further on that small revelation. Intriguing. A detail about Cole: he didn't like coffee. Back when she still had some semblance of a life, she had hardly known a friend or colleague who didn't indulge in caffeine to keep themselves awake. The rare exceptions were more often her patients, ironically enough, that somehow abided by a healthier life choice. However, the thought hit her then that Cole wasn't like anyone she knew. He was, afterall, from a different world.
"Is there still coffee in 2043?"
"Hm," Cole looked up from the document, feeling mildly reticent by the question about his time. There was a lot of crap from then that wasn't worth talking about. So he couldn't help but being cautious. "Yeah, you can still find it, if you look hard enough."
"I see," Cassie commented. So it was a personal choice. She sipped again in thought only to find Cole still looking wonderingly at her mug. Had she made a wrong assumption?
"Are you sure you don't want to have some?"
"No, it's fine," Cole shook his head. He'd tried coffee before. The stuff was awful. Bitter. Sent goosebumps down his skin. But, by hearsay, it was also an acquired taste and a popular one at that. In this time, anyway. "I just wonder that you drink it all the time."
"I don't drink coffee 'all the time'," Cassie protested with a chuckle.
"Are you sure?" Cole raised a questioning eyebrow at her, as if her certainty had struck him as unconvincing. "I get that it's pretty addictive stuff."
"I'm sure," She drew her eyebrows together, suspecting something more at play. Why was Cole questioning her habits? "And I know. I am a doctor, if you remember."
"Then you must know that denial is a typical behaviour of an addict," Cole added, his stare carrying almost the same earnest conviction he carried throughout missions. "I can recommend a doctor."
"Cole, no, honestly, I'm not-" She flustered. "Wait, what doctor?"
"I think his name was Doctor Oz."
Cassie must've let realisation dawn on her more visibly than she had intended because Cole broke his own serious bearing, letting out a soft noise through his nose. Though he looked away back at the papers in front of him, she could still see the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He was teasing her. Cole was being a tease.
"How do you know about-"
In that moment, the front door shook as rattling keys were driven into the keyhole, a blurry shadow moving behind the lit newspapers. Both Cassie and Cole turned their attention towards the noise at the same time. A dark-haired man in a business suit opened the door and looked inside the shop back at them.
"It's just me," Aaron said as found himself awkwardly reassuring them, what with Cassie and her deer in headlights look and Cole's hand already moving to a dark, steel object tucked behind in his pants. Aaron sighed. He was well aware of the danger that they all found themselves in. But could the two of them look any less like he'd just caught them in the act, for pity's sake?
"Hi," Cassie was the first to say, walking towards him. When she looked down to find him carrying plastic grocery bags, Aaron caught her off-guard and kissed her on the cheek. "Are you off-work early?"
"No, I was in the vicinity," He brought up one of the plastic bags, a charming smile as if offering a trophy to his pride. "You said you'd needed to stock up the bookstore's fridge. So I thought I'd do that for you instead."
"You should probably use the back door during the day for that sort of thing," Cole said, not looking up from the file on the table.
"Right. You're welcome," Aaron replied bitterly back at him. He looked to Cassie, voicelessly mouthing a 'can you believe this guy'. Her noncommittal, awkward smile didn't work much to comfort him. She thanked him though, picking up one of the plastic bags for him. That worked to his relief. At least he and Cassie would get to be be someplace together now, Aaron thought, as both headed to the kitchen.
Though Cole's gaze didn't wander off, he found himself reading the same sentence twice.
"How are you?" Aaron whispered beside her once they reached the kitchen, placing the bags on the counter.
"I'm fine. How's work?" Cassie replied absentmindedly as she went through the contents of the bags. She and Cole desperately needed a lead, however small.
"Same old," Aaron said as he gently brushed her waist with his fingers. "A bunch of back-door politics and stabbing that probably wouldn't interest you. But I'm guessing that's not what you were asking about."
Cassie looked up at him from the bags, seeing Aaron offering her that familiar, accepting smile for her occasional insensitivities. "I'm sorry," She responded with an apologetic smile of her own, withholding a certain discomfort within. The remembrance of how often she'd seen that same smile in their last months together. When Aaron thought she was crazy.
A kind smile. But patronising.
The crumpling of plastic being ripped apart distracted them when Cole went behind them and opened up a bag of snacks. Neither had heard him come in and neither heard him say a word when he went back to his desk.
Aaron watched Cassie's gaze follow the man with a contemplative look about her. His smile widened, fingers wrapping gently around her wrist. She glanced past him and back at the food, responding with a smile of her own, and he honestly didn't know why he bothered worrying sometimes. Though he suspected Cole might think more of Cassie than he let on, he trusted Cassie and her judgement of people. Cole was little more than a savage, afterall. He was a brute, a thug and probably not all there in the head. Neither him nor Cassie could get a decent read on his motivations and, for the most part, he had a look about him that could kill.
Sure, in any other circumstance, Aaron might have been righteously peeved about them spending so much time together. Not that he ever intended to stop Cassie from being around other men; he was a modern man himself, afterall. But: a man and a woman spending hours alone in a room unsupervised? People talked.
In this case, there were no people left to talk however. This mission had absolutely cut Cassie off from the world and now easily threatened to do the same to him. Even if dark thoughts about the two rattled his poise at times, he couldn't act now without coming across as wildly inappropriate. His and Cassie's relationship had nearly broken to pieces once when he hadn't trusted her belief about the plague. Now that he realised how important stopping it had become to Cassie, he had to accept Cole was part of the equation. For now. Step in too early and Aaron feared Cassie would be so rash as to see their rekindling relationship as getting in the way of things. That would break his heart.
Aaron hoped there was still a way to make her understand though. Make her see reason, that they were powerless against this, that they should run away to somewhere where they could still build a life together. If such an opportunity ever presented itself, Aaron would take it in a heartbeat. He loved Cassie, afterall. He just needed to keep supporting her and asserting himself as a vital element in her life again and she would see that he was in the right. Until then, baby steps.
"I'm digging up some contacts, looking into 'Operation Troy', just as you asked of me to do," Aaron softly reassured her. "But I've got to be careful, Cassie. If I rub off somebody's fur in the wrong way in this job, I could easily get fired."
"I know about office politics, Aaron," Cassie laughed softly through her nose, her hands playing with a can of tomato sauce. "I didn't work at a daycare, you know."
"I didn't mean that. You know I don't," Aaron looked at her, appearing visibly confounded by her reaction. His tone was patient though, dropping to a whisper as he cautiously glanced back towards Cole. Thankfully, the other man kept his gaze on the files and seemingly ignored them. "You were, no, are a brilliant virologist. I know that you worked very hard for it. And you know how I still don't get how you could ever leave your position like you did."
Cassie looked Aaron over, feeling herself already drained by the direction the conversation was taking. Not that she doubted that Aaron meant what he said. It was something that had attracted her to him in the first place: his gentle words, his admiration for her person, his respect for her work ethics. His warm hand placed right now on hers that usually let her feel, no, know that she was appreciated, however a shitty day she might have had. She had been so lucky when she had found Aaron back then.
She had also been Cassandra Railly, an idealistic virologist, whom he'd imagined settling with and raising children together. Not that she hadn't considered the same for herself, among other possibilities. But, more importantly, she no longer did. Now, she was Cassandra Railly, an... outcast. One of few who could still do the right thing. If her choices baffled Aaron, moreso was she baffled instead by how he danced around the reality of the situation: the plague was coming and their lives would turn out like nothing that they had ever imagined for themselves. How could he not see this?
She was aware that telling Aaron this outright would only hurt him though. Even drive him away. If that happened, who else could he possibly talk with about the future? She had been in that dark, lonely place once. She wished it upon nobody. Yet, like two ships passing in the night, they were never on the same page.
"You're right, I'm sorry," She sighed softly. "I understand that I've put you in a difficult position. I am grateful, you know that?"
"For the food?"
"No," Cassie gave him a lopsided smile. Aaron's sort of teasing was one that she was well familiar with. She knew what he wanted to hear. "For everything."
Aaron couldn't help but shout out "jackpot" in his mind. His heart nearly exploded in his chest, he loved her so. He only just needed to hear her say the words and his negative feelings flew out of the window. He kissed her on the shoulder, hardly containing himself to try more. If only Cole wasn't here, he thought bitterly. Cassie's gaze drew back to him and, for a moment, it looked to him like she wanted to say something important. An 'I love you', perhaps? It felt right to him but was it too early for either of them to say so out loud again, Aaron wondered?
But then the orange lights flickered. The walls of the bookstore all around them shook, cans and empty grocery bags falling down onto the floor. Aaron protectively reached out to Cassie to steady them both. Earthquake, he thought?
Cassie instinctively turned around, her gaze searching for Cole, but like a shadow hiding in the corner of the eye, he was gone when she looked. The chair he occupied stood empty, trembling along with the aftershocks. Just gone like a whisper in the wind, as if the man had never left or come into her life.
Moments passed by. Cole was still blind from the dazzling lights of the machine. Once the pounding headache stopped threatening to blow up his brain, he was greeted by an oddly familiar Germanic accent.
"So, Mr. Cole?", Katarina Jones questioned him impatiently, as he stood upright on the chair, clinically assessing him from head to toe. "You don't look so well."
"No," Cole stepped off the chair. "Just a shitty day, doctor."