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Mayor. It’s everything James has ever wanted: respected, powerful, important.
“Do you want anything else?” asks Prospero, exhausted from building an entire town from scratch.
Eve, thinks James, thinking of her strength, her humor, her courage. He’d give up being mayor, hell, he’d give up all the power in the world if it’d make her care for him. But James knows love isn't something that can be forced, even by magic. The idea is repulsive. He doesn't want her to be with him because she has to, he wants her to be with him because she loves him, so he says, “No.”
***
“Sheriff Baird is here to see you, sir,” his secretary says over the intercom.
James sets his pen down. “Send her in.” He smooths a hand over his suit jacket, straightens his tie. He’s debating whether or not to unbutton his jacket when there’s a knock on his door that precedes Eve, looking radiant in her uniform. In her hand, she holds a mug with a green bow stuck on the side. “Sheriff. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Eve smiles. “I wanted to congratulate you on getting elected, Mr. Moriarty.”
“Please, call me James.” Was that too forward? He should’ve just said thank you, it’s not that difficult.
“Then congratulations, James.” She seems to consider for a minute, then adds, “You can call me Eve. Here, this is from the police department. I hope we can all work together for the good of the town.” Eve offers him the mug, and he stands to take it. Of course she’d give him something so practical. He loves it.
He raises the mug in a toast. “To working together.”
“Will I see you at the government holiday party tomorrow?” Eve asks, and all he wants to do is pull her close. Not even kiss her, although he wouldn’t be opposed to that, but with each word of this stifling formality he feels himself get closer to blurting out the truth. They had been—not friends—but allies, once. They had known each other, worked together, he loved her, and she had no idea who he was.
As tempting as it was to attend the party if only for the chance to see her again, James didn’t think he could handle it. He needed time to adjust to Cicily, so he replied, “No.”
***
“Thank you so much for coming out to speak at graduation, Mr. Moriarty,” the president of the University of Cicily smiles, handing him a flute of champagne.
James returns the smile. “It was my pleasure. Seeing all this potential gathered in one place is wonderful, although it makes me miss my own college days.” Of course, he went to college in the 1800’s, but Ms. Snider doesn’t need to know that.
“We are one of the top universities in the world,” she laughs. “I understand what you mean, though. What did you major in?”
“Mathematics. I was actually a professor before I became mayor.”
The president sets a hand on his upper arm. “Well, if you ever decide you want to get back to teaching, you’re always welcome here.”
James smiles genuinely at that. "Thank you, Ms. Snider."
“Please, call me Carmen.” She’s standing awfully close to James, and her hand is still on his arm, and she’s lovely, she really is, but James isn’t quite drunk enough to consider going home with her. Despite his best efforts, he is still very much in love with Eve.
However, there’s no reason he can’t talk to the women. She’s intelligent and kind, and he needs all the friends he can get. So he does. But at the end of the night, when she suggests they “grab dinner sometime,” he can’t lead her on, so he thanks her for the offer, but says, “No.”
***
As he’s leaving the reception, he bumps into Jacob Stone, who’s distracted talking to someone on the phone. Of course, he teaches at this university. "I’ll be home soon, I’m leaving now." There's a pause, then he smiles. "I love you too, Ezekiel."
“Sorry,” says James, turning to leave.
“Wait,” Stone calls, his fond smile exchanged for a furrowed brow. “Do I know you?”
In hindsight, the Librarian probably only knew him as the mayor of Cicily, not an adversary, but James panics. “No.” His heart doesn’t stop pounding until he’s halfway home.
***
James erases what he had just written for the third time in the last ten minutes. He just can’t seem to get the phrasing right for this speech. He knows what he wants to say, he even made a bulleted list, but the proper words elude him. Logically, he knows he should just go home, try again in the morning, but he’s never been able to give up on anything. Or anyone, for that matter.
Logically, he knows he won’t be able to get any more work done tonight, not after seeing the Librarians (he’ll never be able to stop thinking of them that way) and a certain Guardian at their bar this afternoon.
He had been passing by after eating lunch in the park like he liked to do when the weather permitted, and he had seen them through the window, laughing, Eve leaning on a counter, practically glowing in the late afternoon sun. Happy just to be together.
A family.
James has no one.
Logically, he knows all this, yet here he still is at ten o’clock, trying and failing to write a speech because it’s better than going home to his empty apartment.
God, he’s pathetic.
His secretary, Jamie, had been working late too, filing some papers, but she pokes her head in now. She’s wearing her coat, and a red scarf is wrapped around her neck. “I’m going to head home, do you need anything?”
“No, tha—” he begins, but she cuts him off.
“Are you okay, James?”
It’s her familiarity that breaks him, makes him be more honest than he might’ve been otherwise. “No. No I am not.”
She hesitates, obviously not expecting that response. “What’s wrong?”
Wrong? This whole town is wrong. It shouldn't exist ! He shouldn't exist. When he had the chance, he should’ve begged Prospero to break the spell that kept him here, in this world that wasn't his. He is wrong.
“I don't belong here,” James says simply. It's the truth.
“Of course you belong here!” Jamie proclaims indignantly. “You’re a wonderful mayor, the people love you.”
“...Thank you, Jamie.” He feels exhausted suddenly, like his head has become too heavy, but strangely lighter.
“Don’t stay too late, alright?” she implores.
“I won’t.” He smiles at her, and, reassured, she heads back out. As soon as she’s gone, he grabs the sheet of paper he’s been trying to write on, crumples it up, and throws it into the trash bin.
The next morning, there’s a hot cup of earl grey tea sitting on his desk with a cherry scone.
***
“Sheriff Baird is here to see you, sir,” says Jamie over the intercom.
She’d been here a lot these last few months because he’d been helping her, well, really the department, with a drug trafficking case. Helping them get the proper warrants and such. But the case was closed now. James knew for a fact that Eve had turned in the last of the paperwork today, so why…?
“Send her in, Jamie.”
“Hey,” says Eve, stepping through the doorway. She stands casually, leaning to one side, hands in her pockets. She’s not in her uniform; she must have the day off.
“Hello. Is something wrong with the case?”
“No, everything’s fine.” She laughs, and his chest tightens. “I just came by to ask if you’d… like to get coffee sometime.”
“Coffee?” She couldn’t possibly mean—
“Or tea. The café on Main Street has both.”
How could he say anything else but “Yes. I’d love to.”
“Great! Are you free tomorrow?”
James blinked, unable to believe this was actually happening. “I have a meeting...” His thoughts felt like honey, drizzling slowly off a spoon in lazy spirals. “I have a meeting at ten thirty but I’m free afterwards.”
“How’s noon?”
“Noon is perfect.” Everything is perfect.
“I’ll pick you up then, then.”
“Wonderful. I look forward to it.” He’s sure he’s beaming like an idiot, but right now James could care less.
Coffee. Or tea. It's a beginning.