We'll Be Good

Clara watched as Cassandra paced up and down, talking very fast about ley-lines and Santa releasing the magic at midnight, the power travelling through the world, using the ley-lines to do so. Apparently the Northern Lights were the most powerful, due to the legend of Santa, the North Pole and polarity - or so Jenkins had so grimly said. Now Jacob was trying and failing to unleash the giant glowing sphere Flynn used to illustrate his frequent soliquoys.

"It's not happening, Jake," Clara said, examining her nails.

Jacob slammed the sphere down, put out.

"Okayyy," Cassandra said, giving him a funny look, "I'm going to need satellite maps, a farmer's almanac, and plasma quantum dynamics charts. Also some of that - I'm sorry," she said, whirling around, "do you smell hot chocolate?"

At this, Ezekiel came down the sweeping stairway, still wearing Santa's hat. To Cassandra's joy, he was carrying a tray bearing hot chocolate, using Jenkins's best china for the purpose, much to Jenkins's silent fury. Clara raised an eyebrow at Ezekiel's frilly red and white polka-dotted apron, but he just beamed at her, setting the tray down on Flynn's desk, ignoring its angry mutterings about violation of personal space. "Don't forget the cinnamon sticks!" he trilled, his head snapping up at the sound of a loud beep. "Oh!" he declared, running backwards. "That'll be the cookies!"

"Okay, can I keep him?" Cassandra said, picking up a mug, inhaling its aroma, much to Jacob's amusement.

"Where did he get that apron?" Clara asked, confused.

"Don't look at me," Jenkins retorted.

"I wasn't!" Clara protested.

"You were," Jenkins said darkly.

~*~

"Tell me you have a plan, Jenkins," Eve bellowed down the line.

"No, I don't," Jenkins said, "but Cassandra does."

"Wait a" -

- "Okay, listen to me," Cassandra said, speaking over Eve, "I don't think we need to go all the way to the North Pole - I think we can tap in using the Northern Lights as a plasma conductor into the ley-lines" -

- "Want a cookie?" Ezekiel yelled, pausing from putting them into paper-bags. Clara had lost count at a hundred.

"Please be quiet," Cassandra said coldly, taking a sip of her hot chocolate, her tenth one, shamelessly exploiting Ezekiel.

"Are you drinking hot chocolate and eating cookies whilst I freeze my ass off in the middle of nowhere?" Eve accused, sounding irate.

"How do you know it's hot chocolate?" Clara asked, confused.

"Because I can smell it!" Eve exclaimed, her voice crackling strangely.

"We need the strongest Aurora Borealis as possible," Jenkins said to Cassandra, ignoring Eve.

"Which happens over Alaska," Cassandra supplied, bestowing a smile upon Jacob who just waved a cookie at her, his fifteenth one.

"Why can't I stop stuffing!?" Ezekiel demanded, a rare moment of sanity.

"I often ask myself the same thing," Flynn said, sauntering past, stuffing himself with stuffed mushrooms.

"Flynn!" Clara screeched, launching herself at him.

"My love!" Flynn screeched back, catching her in his arms.

Jenkins cleared his throat pointedly. "Aren't you supposed to be"-

- "I am," Flynn said, glaring at Jenkins, "I was just passing through." And with that, he was gone, leaving a slightly stunned Clara in his wake.

"What an interesting interlude," Jenkins observed, "and now back to the matter at hand..."

"You have to go to Alaska," Cassandra informed Eve.

"How am I supposed to get to Alaska!?" Eve exclaimed. "And wait, did I just hear Flynn" -

- "There's a commercial shipping airport near you," Jenkins said, cutting across her, only for Eve to cut across him in turn.

"What part of out of gas don't you understand?" Eve flared up, her voice echoing oddly now.

"Colonel Baird, I'll send Ezekiel and Clara up ahead to arrange a plane to transport you to the site of the Aurora Borealis," Jenkins said impatiently, "and Mr. Stone and Ms. Cillian will meet you at a small town very near you, but its name currently escapes me, so just walk until you reach it. They'll get a car and take you and Santa to the airport."

"Santa's been very silent," Jacob said, swallowing the last of his sixteenth cookie.

"Santa is here, Jacob Stone," Santa said rather creepily down the line.

"I'm a good boy," Jacob said before he could stop himself.

"Jacob Stone is a good boy," Santa repeated.

"Enough, Nick," Eve said, sounding at the end of her tether again. "And don't ho!"

~*~

Clara dug her mittened hands into her pockets, her breath escaping her lips in clouds. The collar of her bottlegreen peacoat was turned up, shielding her from the cruel blasts of the winter wind, a tammy hat pulled low over her eyes, a scarf wound round her neck and flung across her shoulders. Ezekiel was similarly wrapped up, but unlike her, he was prancing about like it was May Day. They entered the office of the commercial shipping airport, only to be confronted by the sight of an extrememly depressed young man, his face tripping him, radiating despair.

"Um, we're here for the plane being held for Colonel Baird?" Clara asked, grabbing the back of Ezekiel's coat, stopping him from skipping around the man's desk.

"Yeah, I'm your pilot," the man said dourly, reminding Clara of Jenkins.

"Midnight flight on Christmas Eve, eh?" Ezekiel chirped, Clara still clutching his coat. "Can there be anything more wonderful?"

"You trying to see the sleigh?"

"Sleigh?"

"People try do that sometimes," the pilot said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Something wrong with you, mate?" Ezekiel boomed, making Clara wince. "You don't seem to have the traditional holiday spirit."

"I promised my fiance we would spend tonight together," the pilot suddenly said in a rush, startling Clara, the tears welling up in his eyes, "and then I got called on this flight."

-"Well, we won't be long," Clara said imperiously, "it's a matter of urgency actually, or we wouldn't be here, in the middle of nowhere" -

-"But you'd rather be with your love," Ezekiel said to the pilot, cutting across her, "holding her tight, on this winter night" -

- "Ezekiel, shut up," Clara hissed from the corner of her mouth.

"You'd rather be with Flynn tonight, counting stars, making wishes," Ezekiel said dreamily, his dark eyes becoming distant. "O Christmas night, holy night, I have you, I have you all" -

- "Just ignore him," Clara said to the pilot, stepping in front of Ezekiel. "He's like this all the time. Ever the joker!"

"It would be your Christmas wish, wouldn't it?" Ezekiel pressed, stepping front of Clara.

"More than anything," the pilot said fervently.

Ezekiel started laughing, startling Clara, his laugh then becoming a desperate cackle, his face contorting, his body hunching over. "Yus, no, yus, no, no," he muttered, his head whipping from side to side, "yus, no, yus, no, yus, no" -

- "Ezekiel," Clara said warningly, reaching for his hat, only for him to suddenly smash her hand aside.

"Do not touch the hat," he breathed, suddenly looming over her.

Clara just stared at him, scared despite herself.

"Go and be with the one you love!" Ezekiel yelled at the pilot, jabbing his finger in his face. "Don't listen to me - yus - we're okay without you - don't leave, we can't fly a plane - cookies and hot chocolate, I am a snowflake fading away" -

As Ezekiel started whipping his head from side to side again, Clara sidled away from him, forcing a smile on her face. "Um, I suppose you should go," she said to the pilot, the words being wrenched from her, "my friend isn't quite himself." The pilot nodded, before grabbing his coat and fleeing, frightened she might change her mind. Clara watched him go before rounding on Ezekiel, slamming her hands into his chest. "What the hell are you doing, Zeke?" she snapped, making him twitch a bit more.

"Love is the supreme power," Ezekiel gabbled, "it overcomes everything, and what in the name of Long John's long johns am I saying!?"

"It's the hat, Zeke!" Clara cried. "Take it off!"

"I can't!" Zeke almost wept, clutching his head. "Only Santa can take it off!"

"Well, we've just lost our one chance of reaching him," Clara said, flopping down on a chair. "Way to go, Zeke."

"Cookie?" Ezekiel beamed, making Clara bury her face in her hands.

It's unclear now what we intend
We're alone in our own world...