The Game Is Afoot

Caught up in a mystery
No one to attend
Back in the beginning
But she started at the end...

Clara cleared away the tea-caddy and sugar-tongs, her hands shaking. After the bomb-shell Eve had dropped, Clara's world had retracted in on itself like a kaleidoscope, before rearranging itself in lines she didn't recognize.

"So you and Flynn," Eve asked in an undertone, "what's that about?"

"What do you mean?" Clara said, confused.

"Did you meet him online?" Eve said, confusing Clara even further.

"No, it was in Starbucks," Clara replied.

"Oh," Eve said, setting her teacup down, "it's just you meet all sorts of crackpots online, so I thought..."

"Me and Flynn, we're not together," Clara said, brow furrowing.

"Sorry, I just thought" -

- "Don't think anything," Clara said, getting annoyed now.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I just didn't immediately make the connection between Clara Hartley and you," Eve replied, "when it seems obvious now."

"Obviously."

Eve raised her eyebrows at Clara's tone.

"There are people trying to kill me and people trying to kill potential Librarians," Clara snapped. "My name is Clara and there's a Clara Hartley on their hit-list. But because Charlene said I was a cleaner, you completely ruled me out when a two year old could have made the connection."

Eve's jaw tightened, but she didn't say anything else, realising she couldn't. She had been insultingly startled to discover Clara was the Clara Hartley on the list, arguing with Flynn for a good five minutes over it until reluctantly accepting the fact.

"Why are you so interested in Flynn anyways?" Clara asked.

"I'm not interested in Flynn," Eve said abruptly, standing up, "I was just curious that's all."

"And curiosity killed the cat," Flynn said, appearing out of thin air.

~*~

Clara stepped through the doors of St. Francis Episcopal Hospital, trailing in Eve and Flynn's wake, feeling like a third wheel again. They were meant to be tracking down the other three potential Librarians, finding them before the Serpent Brotherhood did, but Clara wasn't exactly feeling the love from Eve and Flynn. As Clara tripped over a piece of loose linoleum, Eve and Flynn glared at her in unison, confirming her suspicions they just saw her as a burden they had to babysit, slowing them down and distracting them from their day job of saving the day.

Some medics suddenly burst through the doors behind them, pushing a hospital trolley bearing an unconscious woman, her face slack, eyes shut. "Female, early twenties, collapsed at school, high temperature, BP 140 over 90, pulse 100, temp 102.5," one of the medics reeled off to a doctor as they moved, Clara stepping back to give them some space, Flynn and Eve not showing any such consideration. "Sudden high fever, sore joints, nausea and vomiting," the medic continued as more medical staff joined the procession, Flynn following them, ducking and diving, trying and failing to get a word in edgeways.

Rolling her eyes, Clara grabbed the back of his greatcoat, hauling him back, making Flynn whirl on her as Eve followed the hospital trolley down the hall.

"What are you doing?" Flynn hissed, glancing at Eve's retreating back.

"What are you doing?" Clara hissed back.

"I'm sticking my rather big nose into a medical emergency," Flynn snapped, "that's what I'm doing!"

"You're creating an obstruction!"

"And you're creating a rather pretty picture in that outfit," Flynn said, suddenly flipping the charm switch on. "So why don't you stand over there so the rest of the world can appreciate your unearthly beauty" -

Clara grabbed his ear, and she grabbed it hard, dragging his face down to hers. "We are here for Cassandra Cillian," she said dangerously, "nothing else. Savvy?"

"Savvy," Flynn winced, Clara finally letting him go, the two of them turning around as the sound of raised voices filled the corridor, some sort of situation unfolding with one of the hospital janitors and the patient that had been brought in, the janitor's words running together in a way that made Clara take a step back in surprise.

- "thesensitvitytolightbutyou'reignoringtheotherfactorstheotherfactorsshe'swearinganecklacethathasparrotfeathersshepickedupofftheground," the janitor gabbled, "it'shomemadethefeather'sfadingcommercialfeathersarepreservedagainstsunlightandultravioletlightultraviolet" -

- "By Jove, she's right!" Flynn boomed as he rushed over, the sceptical medical staff glancing up at him as he approached, Eve pulling a camera phone out of the patient's pocket as he drew level with her. "There are 914 species of bird in North America and this doesn't match" - he did a double-take at the bright yellow feather attached to the patient's necklace, before cawing like a parrot himself - "that's an African parrot feather!" he said in disbelief.

Eve held up the phone, showing the stunned medical personnel a picture of the patient with a parrot perched on her shoulder.

"Fine, let's go," the doctor suddenly snapped, bringing them all back to life. The janitor then hastily made her escape as they left, Clara following her, suspecting this was the Cassandra Cillian they were looking for. If lunacy was one of the requirements for being a Librarian, Flynn had it in spades, but in terms of intelligence, it seemed Cassandra left him in the shade.

"Radiation, radiation," the janitor muttered as she collapsed down on a bench by the window, "radiation, the collision of matter" -

- "Hi," Clara said, biting the bullet, making the young woman jump violently.

"Hi," the janitor said nervously, pushing a lock of crimson hair out of her pellucid blue eyes.

"Are... are you alright?" Clara asked in a rush, figuring she had to start somewhere before launching into the science fiction story that was the Library.

Instead of answering the question, the janitor stared at something in mid-air, her eyes dilating before clearing, a rush of equations escaping her lips, making Clara take a step back.

"Do you always have this effect on people?" Flynn said, steering Clara out of the way, startling her.

"I think we found our Cassandra," Clara said, ignoring the insult.

"I'm sorry," Cassandra said to no-one in particular, "it'll stop in a second." Her pretty face suddenly lit up, changing it completely. "I smell peanuts this time," she said, glancing up at them all, "that's not bad."

"Wow," Flynn said, stooping down so he was eye-level with her, "auditory and sensory hallucinations that link memory retrieval. You're a synesthete?"

"Wow, yes," Cassandra echoed, "Hi!" she aimed at Eve, who returned the greeting, looking slightly startled at Cassandra's sudden perkiness.

"She has a photographic memory," Flynn explained as he stood up, "like mine."

"Okay..." Clara said slowly, thinking Flynn was flattering himself a little bit too much, "explain further, big boy."

"Her brain is cross-wired," Flynn said in an undertone, as though Cassandra wasn't there, "all five senses are linked to her memory," he finished, holding up five fingers to illustrate his point.

"Numbers are colours," Cassandra intoned, rocking back and forth now, "science is musical notes - when I do math, I smell things. It's mostly breakfast."

"That's nice," Clara said, slapping a smile on, "but you're in a lot of danger, Cassandra. You need to come with us."

"Are you the police?" Cassandra asked, confused and not a little suspicious.

"No, I'm the Librarian," Flynn said, stepping forwards, his face suddenly stern. "Go and get your coat."

~*~

"Ninjas in Oklahoma?" Clara said incredulously.

Flynn just nodded, eyes narrowing as he scanned the corridor ahead of them, studying each door in turn. Eve was gone, her disturbing presence no longer disturbing him. He'd reasoned if he couldn't get rid of Eve by force, he would get rid of her through other means. One tactic he was testing was by turning her into his gopher, assigning her the task of abducting Jacob Stone, as well as becoming Cassandra's unpaid bodyguard. Clara had been slightly confused by the abduction part but Flynn had explained Jacob Stone probably wouldn't be as pliable as Cassandra, hence why force was needed. The only problem was with Eve gone, he'd become saddled with Clara and her confusion instead, but Flynn had further reasoned he couldn't have his cake and eat it.

"Well, if you can get ninjas in Starbucks, why not Oklahoma?" Clara murmured to herself as she threaded her arm through Flynn's, letting him steer her towards the third door on the right.

"My heart belongs in Geneva," Flynn sighed as they found themselves in yet another corridor.

"Your heart belongs in your chest or you'd be dead," Clara pointed out practically.

"I was trying to be poetic," Flynn snapped.

"Stick to being a pain, it suits you better," Clara said pertly.

"Talking of suits, you haven't seen my white one," Flynn said, guiding her through yet another door. "It's bedazzling."

"How... lovely," Clara said uneasily, spying a set of glass display cases containing various artefacts, a young man almost window-shopping his way round them all.

"Stay here," Flynn whispered, shoving her behind a statue of Persephone.

Clara could only watch as Flynn ducked and dived his way through the display of display cases, doing a spectacular pirouette before disappearing from sight. As the young man then stopped in front of one particular exhibit, running his hands almost lovingly across the glass, a man almost materialised behind him, seemingly appearing out of thin air, his face blank, brow furrowed, hands folded in front of him.

Before Clara could blink, he suddenly pulled a dagger out from the inside of his suit, the young man whirling around, shocked, Clara frozen to the spot in horror. Them there was a sharp crackling sound like an electrical current, making the man with the dagger scream in agony, before slumping to the ground, Flynn popping up behind him like a Jack-In-The-Box.

The young man just looked at Flynn for a long moment. "Why was that security guard holding a dagger?" he asked, Clara noting his Australian accent and how he seemed almost unperturbed at being nearly murdered.

"That wasn't a security guard," Flynn replied, "he was sent here to kill you."

"Hi, my name is Clara and can we go now, pretty please?" Clara said, throwing herself between them.

"I told you to stay there!" Flynn scolded, trying to detach her hand from his sleeve.

"You told me to stay here," Clara flung back, "and I'm here, so ha!"

"You look like you could use a stiff drink," the young man said, shoving a wad of crisp dollar bills into a startled Clara's hand, "here, have one on me."

"Ezekiel Jones," Flynn said almost admiringly as Clara looked at the money as though it was tainted.

"And I'm assuming you're not here to kill me," Ezekiel said, rounding the side of the display case, "so tell you what. Watch my back for ten minutes and I'll cut you in on ten per cent."

Flynn just laughed rather disturbingly, disturbing Clara enough to finally let go of his sleeve.

"Hey, don't I know you?" Ezekiel then asked Flynn, smirking as he began to break into the display case.

Flynn assumed the air of a blushing maiden.

"I do know you," Ezekiel said, his eyes crinkling up in the corners in recognition, "you're that crazy Professor" -

- "Librarian," Clara corrected him, clutching Flynn's sleeve again, "and you're stealing that jewelled dagger."

"Well observed, mademoiselle," Ezekiel mocked, "you'd give Sherlock Holmes a run for his money."

Clara glowered at him, making Ezekiel's smirk become a full-blown grin.

"But actually you're wrong," Ezekiel continued, searing a hole in the glass, "this is mine. I just left it locked in this display case on my way to work this morning."

"You're burning a hole in a room full of infra-red sensors," Flynn pointed out gently.

As if on cue, alarms started blaring. For a moment, Ezekiel looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and then he was off, darting towards the nearest exit. Flynn took off after him, dragging Clara in his wake, scattering dollar bills as they went.

Cover all that pretty sound
Danger up ahead
One more and you'll get it
So I'll follow you instead...