Magic Versus The Mundane

"Lovers tiff?" Jenkins asked, raising an eyebrow as Jacob stalked back through the doorway, Clara following him, deliberately avoiding everyone's eyes.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jacob muttered, kicking a pillar, only for it to sprout a leg and kick him in return.

"And you more than deserved that," Jenkins muttered back. He'd astutely observed that Jacob appeared to admire Clara, if only from afar, watching her when he thought no-one else was looking. It was all done very discreetly, and apart from his outburst on the stairs just after he'd been enchanted by Circe, Jacob had given nothing else away of his true feelings. To the world, his initial infatuation with Clara had apparently faded into a strange sort of comradeship composed of friendship and froideur, Clara turning on Jacob at the slightest thing, before throwing herself into his arms the next. But all the while, a storm had been stirring, and Jenkins was just waiting for it to finally hit.

"Ta-da!" Cassandra said, suddenly bursting through the back door.

"What the" -

- "I know," Cassandra said, cutting Eve off, "but it's worth it!"

"What was worth what?" Ezekiel asked, brow furrowing.

"A free pass," Cassandra said cryptically, handing a brown paper package over to Jenkins.

"What, through the back door?" Clara said, curiosity caught despite herself.

"In exchange for a knitted jumper and matching tea-cosy," Cassandra beamed. "I made them myself, with a little teacup motif on the cuffs and collar."

"You bribed Jenkins?" Ezekiel said, nodding approvingly. "Nice one."

"For a whole month, I get to avoid the perils of public transport," Cassandra said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Just travelling straight from the shower to here, with no traffic jams inbetween."

"She's your favourite, isn't she?" Eve said, turning to Jenkins.

"Yes," Jenkins said abruptly. "She possesses a modicum of intelligence the rest of you rather lack."

"Arghh!" Ezekiel suddenly exclaimed, as the clippings book swooped over him, making him throw his arms over his head. "Why does it keep dive-bombing me!?" he whined, ducking behind a bookcase.

"It's good for its digestion," Jenkins said dourly, just as the clippings book burped on cue, showering them with scraps of paper.

"Local beauty queen chokes to death on a piece of apple," Clara read out, frowning.

"Giant pumpkin wins prize," Cassandra said, flicking through fragments, "three bears terrorize local town, Prom King loses Prom Queen at midnight" -

"Traffic crash on bridge in Bremen?" Jacob said in disbelief.

"Magic versus the mundane," Jenkins said, rolling his eyes.

~*~

Clara tottered out of the toilet, feeling like she was going to throw up, only to find herself on a porch. As the others joined her, staggering and stumbling, Ezekiel looking rather green, Clara glanced around her, confused. It wasn't the first time Clara had been magically deposited in a public toilet, but it had at least been clean. This toilet, more hut than anything else, was a blot on the existence of all things toiletry. The stench alone was enough to knock out an elephant.

"Pass me my smelling salts," Ezekiel moaned, slumping against the railing.

"We're in the middle of nowhere," Cassandra observed, observing the wide expanse of mountains and lake surrounding them.

"Welcome to my world," Jacob said, jamming his hands into his pockets. "Small town America."

Clara glanced at him, not missing the bitter note in his voice.

"What are you looking at?" Jacob snapped.

"Not you, that's for sure," Clara snapped back.

"Can it, kids," Eve admonished. "Sheriff Hiyer," she then called over to a police officer, his tall stature and crisp black uniform making him stand out from the small crowd milling about nearby.

"It's actually Heyer," he said, startling Eve, "like HEY-ER!" He yelled the last, making everyone wince.

"You've just killed my ear-drums, mate," Ezekiel said, eyes narrowing.

"Hi, I'm Eve Baird," Eve said hastily, stepping in front of Ezekiel, offering the sheriff her hand, "we spoke on the phone."

"Right," Sheriff Heyer said, frowning. "Um, sorry," he said, scratching his head, "but who are you again?" He glanced at the group in front of him, not missing the disparate differences between them all, Cassandra with her eccentric sense of style, Ezekiel sporting a back to front skip-hat, Clara coiffured and disdainful like a duchess, Jacob all faded jeans and checked shirt, and Eve immaculate and intimidating.

"We're - uh - from the Metropolitan Library," Jacob interjected, seeing Eve at an uncharacteristic loss for words.

Sheriff Heyer just studied Jacob suspiciously, brow furrowing even further.

"We're conducting a traffic flow study," Clara said imperiously, stepping forwards, "collating accident reports and statistical surveys regarding the impact of vehicular transportation on rural areas."

"Well - well, there's no traffic flow issue," Sheriff Heyer stuttered, Clara's imposing air intimidating him into acceptance.

"What about the accident on the bridge though?" Clara asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"Just a case of bad driving," Sheriff Heyer said nervously, "it was dark and boom, he was in the water. Darn lucky he lived to tell the tale."

"To tell the tale..." Cassandra murmured, making them all glance at her.

"Like I said," Sheriff Heyer continued, clearing his throat, "just bad driving. One-off, y'know?"

"A quaint explanation for a quaint place," Clara said sarcastically. "How... quaint."

"What exactly do you mean by 'quaint', missie?" Sheriff Heyer said, resting his hands on his skinny hips.

"Shall I enlighten you?" Clara said nastily, not seeing the danger signs, "it means, small, boring, narrow-minded, rather like Jacob here, our resident boy from the backwoods, fresh off the farm, a cut-price Clint Eastwood" -

- "Whoa, calm down Clara," Eve intervened as Jacob stared at Clara, startled by her venom, "we don't want to start a witch-hunt, do we?"

Quick to judge
Quick to anger
Slow to understand
Ignorance and prejudice
And fear walk hand in hand...

~*~

"Guys, there's a pattern," Cassandra said, studying the crashed truck.

"What do you mean a pattern?" Eve asked urgently, beckoning the others over.

"It's... waves," Cassandra said, brow furrowing.

"Don't use that word in my presence!" Clara spat, making everyone whirl around, only to see she was a good fifteen feet away from them.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing over there!?" Eve said, starting to get annoyed now.

"I'm scared of the... thing," Clara said, gesturing to the lake.

"The thing?" Eve asked, raising her eyebrows.

"What thing?" Ezekiel said, confused.

"Don't make me say it!" Clara snapped, startling them for a second time.

"Just ignore her," Jacob said, turning his back on her. "She's still stewing."

"I'll stew you, little man," Clara retorted, "I'll break your bones and boil them into broth" -

- "Yeah, yeah," Jacob said, rolling his eyes. "Tell me something new."

"You were saying something about a pattern?" Eve said, turning back to Cassandra, not in the mood for mediating.

"Waves of grain, waves of cereal, Weetabix," Cassandra mused, her mind wandering to her bowl of Weetabix that morning. Clara had introduced her to that particular delicacy, and Cassandra was addicted.

"Cassandra?" Eve said, interrupting her thoughts.

"Sorry," Cassandra said, shaking herself back to semblance, "I need to..." She hesitated before snatching up a fire extinguisher. Before anybody could stop her, she was blasting the truck window, throwing into relief what looked like a giant thumb-print. "Waves," Cassandra beamed, setting the fire extinguisher down on the grass.

"Don't use that word!" Clara shrieked.