Felicity Sarah Page flopped down onto the couch in the staffroom and began glugging down her coffee with dangerous enthusiasm.
"Hey, steady on Fliss!" George laughed, coming to sit opposite her. "9B that bad, huh?"
"Don't even ask," she sighed. "And did you hear that Jody's organised me a leaver's do? Debbie's just told me!"
George grinned mischievously, "Ah, well, I might have pushed her in the right direction, just a tad…"
"Oh George! I might have known it'd be you behind all this!" Felicity set down her polystyrene cup and gave him a 100 watt sapphire glare. "I told you–"
"Yeah, and I didn't listen." He sipped his own coffee and shrugged. "I don't see what the big deal is anyway. You deserve a decent send-off." He peered at her over the rim of the cup, "You work far too hard."
"So? So do you." Felicity sat back and folded her arms. "I take it you had a good Christmas then?"
"Joanna and I spilt up actually."
"What?" Felicity sat up sharply at that, eyes wide. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!"
"No worries."
"No, I'm serious. When did this happen?"
George leant forward and flicked through his lesson planner, avoiding her gaze. "Couple of days ago…"
Felicity resumed her glare. "Why the hell didn't you tell me, George? George!"
"Because it doesn't matter," he breezed, "It's not important."
"Oh, and my silly little leaver's do is?" she retorted. George could be so…infuriating. "You're as bad as the kids sometimes, you know that?"
"Yep," he smirked. He clicked off his pen and looked back up at her. "Look, I just didn't want to mention it. You know how gossip spreads round here…The topic of conversation next week should be all about you leaving, not my apocalypse of a love life…"
"Was it that bad?" Felicity asked, sensitively.
"Worse," George grimaced. Shaking his head, as if by doing that he could shake away the memories, he sat back and flashed her a grin. "Saw anything good on telly over the holidays…?" he enquired, suddenly a picture of innocence.
Felicity shot him another, only slightly more playful glare. "Don't change the subject," she muttered. "I know where this is going."
"Oh do you, do you?" he grinned, "Really?"
"I know very well what you're getting at! And yes, I watched Doctor Who."
"Did you see him go?"
"Yes," she admitted, sulkily.
"And did you cry?"
"No!"
"Really?"
"No!"
"Not even a little bit?"
"No! Not even at all!"
George smirked. "I find that very hard to believe," he teased, raising a knowing brow.
"I didn't!" Felicity continued to insist.
"Oh, I'm only messing with you Fliss," he smiled, "Besides, I had a word with Emily. She says you did."
Felicity blinked. "You spoke to my sister?"
George chuckled, and tapped his nose conspiratorially. "You completely underestimate the power of my contacts, Miss Page."
"I'll give you Miss Page in a minute–" she grinned, reaching across and making a faux swipe for his coffee. In his haste to pull back his arm, the coffee lapped round the edges of the cup, dribbling down his tie and splashing a massive wet patch right onto the crotch area of his suit trousers.
George cursed and looked up, but Felicity was already making a laughing retreat for the door.
"You just wait 'til lunch, Felicity!" he called after her, and hobbled over to the sink to mop up his lap, completely failing to notice the tall shadowy figure stood in the window behind him…
Still laughing, Felicity headed down the corridor back to her classroom. Opening the door…her hand froze round the handle – in the glass of the door she caught the dark reflection of the figure waiting outside. Follow me to work now, does he? she thought irritably Stalk me here, does he? Who does he think he is?
Felicity whirled back, turned, marched down the corridor and stormed out the door into the courtyard, where–
Everyone was gone. All the kids had just…disappeared. Felicity blinked in surprise, her wide eyes scanning the empty field and attempting to take in the all-round desertedness in front of her, failing completely to harbour any form of teenage life. Everything: from the tennis courts to bike sheds, the footie pitch to…to everything, everywhere was devoid of student.
Utterly wrong-footed, her brow knitted into a frown of 100% confusion, Felicity turned back to the school– which too had vanished.
Felicity gulped, as looking down the concrete and grass seemed to melt away under her boots to be replaced with…nothing. Just…whiteness. A misty, not-sure-if-its-really-even-quite-there sort of cloud. And so did the sky. And so did the backdrop of houses and spar shop and street. Everything was taken over by white, like a thick, woolly wall of snow had covered the world, wrapping her in a blanket of fog. Trapping her more like. It was all around her, everywhere she turned. It was suffocating. It was empty. It was making her eyes water. She wasn't even sure it was real.
And then it clicked.
Trying to ignore the swelling fear and inevitable panic rising and twisting her stomach into pretzels, Felicity licked her dry lips, swallowed, blocked out the pounding heartbeat in her ears and, uncaring of how stupid she knew she must look right now, summoned all her inner-strength and Sarah-Jane, and cried out one word and one word only.
It was a word to topple mountains, summon Gods and make school children run and hide.
"Trick-STER!"
Felicity glared ahead, into the empty space. Smoky black tendrils suddenly rose and swirled, writhing and pressing themselves into the white like black snakes. The darkness solidified, and the Trickster appeared. He bowed, flashing her a pointed smile.
"You called, Miss Page?"
Felicity sucked in a breath, narrowing her eyes. "I have a bone to pick with you."
The Trickster nodded, the pallid, sunken skin where his eyes should be staring her down, daring her to challenge him. "Go on?"
Felicity placed her hands on her hips, such as they were. "I take it we're in Limbo?"
"Correct."
She glanced back. "But the school, George…?"
"It is just you and me."
Felicity nodded. At least that was something.
"Why did you bring me here?" she demanded. "And why did you follow me? To the school of all places?"
"Yesterday you were sure I was merely an hallucination," the Trickster remarked.
Felicity looked him up and down. "Yeah, well, I'm still not convinced."
"If you're still fishing for an agreement I'm sorry to disappoint you," she added, sticking out her chin. "I told you before, I'm not making any deals with you. I ain't agreeing. I won't even agree to disagree. You're not tricking me, you hear me! I know you! I've seen you!"
"You're world amuses me," the Trickster grinned. "But you humans are all the same. Even when you are handed the knowledge, you are still too stupid to use it. Realise its potential…"
Felicity looked up at him. "What do you mean?"
"You stupid apes with your stupid little lives. You have all that delicious knowledge…"
"And knowledge is power, yes?"
The Trickster tilted his head at her. "Indeed. With such information your world possesses I could ruin these worlds a million times over. Turn your world over to chaos, oblivion–"
"But you can't." Felicity ventured a step forwards, trying not to think about exactly how substantial the fog was she was standing on. "You said so before, you can't manifest in my world, you said. Having to resort to stalking school teachers, beg me to do you bidding. You're powerless!" Felicity laughed. "Just a silly CBBC character for children. A joke baddie!"
"But, as you say, a baddie none the less." The Trickster raised an arm. "You know what I want you to do."
"And I told you before, it doesn't make sense." Felicity licked her lips again. "Why would you want me to stop him regenerating? I don't understand. What's in it for you? Surely you'd want to be the one to–"
"Killing is never my intention. Just chaos."
Felicity waved a hand. "Yeah, fine, whatever. But to save his life? Why could you possibly want me to do that? Tell me!"
"It is necessary."
Felicity's curiosity pricked an ear. "Necessary for what?"
"Why?" the Trickster rasped, "do you question me? Could it be you do not want to save your precious Doctor's live?"
She shook her head. "Of course I do. But I know you. I know what your like. You don't do anything without getting something out of it yourself." Felicity sighed. "Usually the end of the world," she muttered under her breath.
"You know nothing of me."
"I know you can't do anything without me," she retorted. "You need me. You need my agreement!"
"I need nothing from you." Suddenly the Trickster stepped forward. He didn't so much tower as loom. And in this endless world of white, Felicity suddenly felt he was taking up a lot more space than he should. "Do not think you are irreplaceable," he spat, "There are countless out there, mindless, blinkered creatures, absorbed in their tiny worlds of food and fansites. They would give anything to meet me, save their hero, walk in the world they have watched, fantasised. Live it in the flesh. How many would envy the chance I am offering you?"
"Tempting me, you mean. Dangling the carrot." Felicity bit her lip though. "Why did you choose me then. Out of all of the millions of fans out there, why me?"
The Trickster shrugged its skeletal black-cloaked shoulders. "You were not chosen for any reason other than I randomly selected a mortal weak and open-minded enough to enter. You are selfish and cowardly," he leered, "And you will agree."
Felicity felt the corners of her eyes water, her cheeks hot and wet. "That as may me," she whispered, "But what makes you think I will agree?"
The Trickster waved a black-gloved hand airily around. "You wish to remain here? A much longer detention than any of your students would have to face…"
"Blackmail?" she snapped, "is that the best you can do?"
The Trickster took another step forward, and looked fascinatedly down at her, like he was examining a rare type of beetle. "Why cry? You want to save him, don't you? Save your Doctor? Be the Mary-Sue, go and save the day? Be the heroine, Felicity Page? Meet Captain Jack and Donna and Martha and Rose." The Trickster paused, then added with a slight but unmissed sneer, "And Sarah-Jane Smith?"
Felicity wiped at her cheeks and glared defiantly though her tears into the black hood, into the spaces were his eyes should be. "I won't make the same mistakes that she did."
"Oh, you will," he smiled, showing a mouth full of razor-sharp, pointy teeth. But, somehow, the smile didn't seem unkind. "But he will forgive you. That's what the Doctor does so well. And it won't be your world you are destroying, remember."
"Oh," Felicity said, "So that's alright then. You had me worried for a minute there."
The Trickster grinned, and waved a hand. Felicity blinked, and the white dissolved into colour…