Toodles Tinkerbell

"You shouldn't have stolen that," Eve warned Ezekiel, who'd pilfered the metronome by stuffing it up the front of his jumper.

"But it's magic," Ezekiel argued, setting the metronome down on Flynn's desk, ignoring its sneeze.

"More like an early warning system," Jenkins corrected him, coming down the sweeping staircase, the Annex's glossy black vintage payphone floating at his heels.

"Finally, a phone!" Clara exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

"Contain your enthusiasm, please," Jenkins said pompously. "It is most unbecoming." He then cast a contemptuous glance at her dress, even though he'd picked it out for her. "And you cannot carry off a bluebird print," he said, shaking his silvered head.

"I don't care," Clara snapped, "just give me the goddamn phone!"

"Language, please!" Jenkins admonished her, signalling the phone forwards. "You used to have a little class, but now it's more trash" -

- "Flynn!?" Clara bellowed down the receiver. "Are you there?"

"What happened to the gentle telegram?" Jenkins declared to the air, spreading his hands wide. "Or the humble carrier pigeon?"

"Never mind the nostalgia trip," Jacob said, snapping his fingers in front of Jenkins's face, "what about what's going down at this science fair?"

"You're looking for a coven," Jenkins said, staring very hard at Clara.

"Why do you keep looking at Clara every time someone so much hints at witchcraft?" Cassandra asked, brow furrowing. It was something she'd noticed Jenkins doing ever since the debacle of Bremen, a tic he seemed unable to control. As soon as someone so much as said the word 'wart', he would be eyeballing Clara like she'd just broken his best tea-set.

"She's not a real witch," Ezekiel reminded him.

"Oh my little ignoramuses," Jenkins smiled, as though he was going to gather them to his rather starched bosom, "how your naivety arouses my paternal instincts!"

"What, so Clara is a real witch?" Jacob said, brow furrowing, the spell the Library had him under beginning to splinter slightly.

"And I'm Tinker Bell, ready to grant your every delight!" Jenkins trilled. "No, you Midwestern fool," he suddenly snapped, startling Jacob, "I'm talking about a real coven, not some cheap Halloween trick like Hartley."

"How do we find this coven?" Eve asked, stepping forwards.

"Three," Jenkins said, holding up his fingers, "look for the pattern of three."

"I don't know where your best talking tie is," Clara yelled down the line, making everybody jump.

"Tell him it's in his desk drawer," Jenkins called over.

"Alfred said it's in your desk drawer," Clara boomed.

"I'm not Alfred," Jenkins protested, flinging his hands up, "and the Annex isn't the Bat-Cave, and Portland isn't Gotham!"

"You could have had me fooled," Jacob said darkly.

"Fructose and water poured over frozen water," Jenkins said, holding his Yumberry Slush Puppie aloft. "Miraculous!"

"Rule of three, rule of three," Cassandra murmured, glancing round the room. They had left the Annex in favour of returning to the science fair, Cassandra trying to fit the number three onto anything that caught her eye, trying and failing to find the pattern Jenkins had spoken of.

"Goths," Ezekiel suddenly said, electrified.

"Goths?" Jacob said, looking at him as if he was mad.

"Goths!" Cassandra exclaimed, catching on. "There's a trio of Goths traipsing about! It must be them!"

"Wouldn't that be rather... obvious?" Eve said, looking unconvinced.

"Hidden in plain sight, Colonel Baird," Jenkins said pompously.

"Where's Hartley?" Jacob demanded, suddenly noticing she was gone.

"She's probably with the Gothics," Jenkins said, looking bored.

"Why didn't you tell us!?" Eve snapped, fighting the urge to ruffle up his shirt.

"It's not my fault you are imbeciles," Jenkins said, looking insulted.

"Sorry to interrupt the violin recital," Clara said, skidding to a halt, "but what are you doing?"

The group of Goths stared at her, faces pained at her ignorance. The teenage boy kneeling on the floor, working a Victorian waist-coat, his face chalk white, his black hair swept back from an intellectual brow, raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "I'm expressing my inner turmoil," he said quietly, making Clara do a double-take. As the two girls resumed their violin playing, the third girl shielded her eyes with her hand, looking like she was wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

"Excuse me, are you competing in this science fair thing?" Clara asked her, confused.

"Yeah, I am," the girl said, rolling her eyes.

"Are they?" Clara pressed, gesturing to the others.

"No," the girl said, rolling her eyes again

"So what's this all about then?" Clara said, completely bewildered.

The girl shrugged her shoulders, knowing but obviously not wanting to answer.

"Are you... are you the coven?" Clara then asked, wincing slightly as all four teenagers rolled their eyes at her.

"We don't do clichés, darling," the blonde violinist drawled.

"We're above them," the other violinist added, before launching into a vigorous version of 'Irene's Theme'.

Clara swayed on the spot, becoming lost in the heartrending melody for a moment.

"Let's put the past behind us, Amy," the teenage boy suddenly intoned, making the third girl cringe, "and move into the future with me, holding only each other's hands and hearts" - the violinists started wailing in what Clara assumed to be singing - "for all eternity."

"You know I can't date right now," Amy hissed, folding her arms across her chest, "school is too important - winning this STEM fair comes first" -

- "It's just Prom," the teenage boy said, getting to his feet.

"Okay, you're just asking her to Prom, not practising Dark Magic," Clara said hastily, backing away from them, "toodles!" And with that, she was gone, escaping their epic eye-rolls.

What she asked of me at the end of the day
Caligula would have blushed
"You've been in the house too long," she said
And I naturally fled…