AND SHE WAS NOT AN ADVENTURE I FLYNN CARSEN

Learn Flynnish In Four Easy Lessons

Learn Flynnish In Four Easy Lessons

"So why are we looking for a British crown in a German museum?" Ezekiel asked as they headed towards the museum, the sun beating down on their heads.

"Don't ask me," Clara muttered.

"Sorry I asked," Ezekiel said, exchanging glances with Cassandra and Jacob.

Nothing more was said until they were in the museum, Flynn trying in vain to locate the original painting amongst those on display. As he turned wildly on the spot, he nearly knocked Clara over, Flynn hastily catching her by the elbow. They stared at one another before Flynn let go of her arm as though he'd been burned. Then he caught sight of the painting through the crowd, his face lighting up with glee.

"Oh, hello," he cooed, making a beeline for it, the others trailing in his wake, leaving Eve standing on guard. Forming a line, they then stood in front of the painting for several moments, heads tilted to the side, Flynn trying and failing to look intellectual.

"Don't stand there looking like you're working up the nerve to ask it to dance," Clara hissed to him, "figure it out for chrissake!"

"I am trying," Flynn said from between gritted teeth, ignoring Eve's own loud hiss of Flynn! from somewhere behind his back.

"Alright, troops," Clara said, rallying them all, "what do we know about this sweet slice of Arthurian abstraction?"

"It's of a crown," Cassandra said helpfully.

"Artist unknown, painted in 1146," Ezekiel added, squinting slightly, "installed as one of the original pieces in the museum in 1546."

"You're just reading the notice," Clara said, throwing her hands up into the air.

Flynn just shook his head, Jacob sidling over to Clara, his face thoughtful.

"Look at the swords of the knights," Jacob whispered in Clara's ear, "they're Roman short swords."

Clara looked at him, then the painting, then Jacob again. "Arthur's a legionnaire?" she said sceptically.

"It's the Roman hypothesis," Jacob explained.

"What, when the Roman Empire fell, the Roman legions stationed in Britain stayed behind?" Clara hazarded.

Jacob nodded.

"Camelot as a city," Clara said slowly. "Caliban merely another name for Excalibur."

"Armoured warriors and legionnaires, it all fits," Jacob smiled.

"Well, aren't you two the dream team?" Flynn said sarcastically.

"What, like you and Eve?" Clara spat.

"Me and Eve?" Flynn said, confused.

"I think she's taken a bit of a shine to you, big boy," Clara said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You better get your best courting cravat ready for action."

Flynn just scowled at her.

"So Arthur's a Roman?" Ezekiel said, looking unconvinced.

"Looks like it," Cassandra replied.

"There's only one problem," Jacob said dourly, "the painting's a fake."

~*~

Clara leaned against the wall, listening to Jacob and the others argue about carmine, binary codes and security protocols. Amidst the chaos, Flynn started flapping his hands like a chicken, before throwing himself into the fray and silencing them all with his stern face.

"It's like listening to the inside of my own head," he snapped, looking like a cantankerous old man for a moment, "except louder."

"But the binary" -

- "The painting is a fake!"

"And it can't be moved!"

"Alright!" Clara bellowed, stepping forwards. "The painting is a fake! We get your point, my palomino prince!" she fired at Jacob, making him wince. "And as for the binary code, it's obviously a message, Archimedes!" she aimed at Cassandra. "The frame can't be moved because the frame's location in this museum must be important, John Dillinger," she slung at Ezekiel. "So where does that leave us now, Librarian?" she finished, turning to Flynn.

"It leaves us choking on the dust left in the wake of your frantic speed of thought," Flynn said coldly.

"Whatever," Clara said, rolling her eyes. "Let's start with the code," she said, then turning to Cassandra, "what else have you got on that?"

"You're a control freak and it's a co-ordinate code," Cassandra smiled prettily, "leading us somewhere that requires a key, some sort of reference point."

"Like a fixed point in space and time?" Clara hazarded.

"Way to go, Doctor Who," Ezekiel muttered, put out by Clara's pulverising personality.

"Nerd," Jacob muttered.

"It's a fixed point," Clara repeated, glaring at the guys.

"Like a painting that can't be moved?" Flynn said suddenly, before performing a perfect pirouette.

"If that was meant to illustrate your point, you failed, epically," Clara said.

"Margot Fonteyn admired my high instep," Flynn said pettishly, "said it was the mark of a true aristocrat."

"Tell us about this key," Clara said hastily, turning to Cassandra again.

"The entire museum is the key," Cassandra said, her hands now shaking with excitement, "the dimensions to the floors and the rooms, they relate to where the painting is - that's the key to the code!"

"Leading where?" Ezekiel asked, his eyes lighting up with greed.

"Let's find out," Flynn said lightly.

~*~

They all ran towards the sun-dial, Clara's high-heeled brogues nearly breaking her neck. As she slumped against the sun-dial, Flynn started translating the Latin inscribed on its stone surface, muttering manically about great woods and Celts. Clara glanced up as Eve appeared out of nowhere, blonde hair slightly mussed, a button missing from her black jacket.

"Problems?" Clara asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Eve parried.

"The Crown of King Arthur is real," Flynn said slowly, straightening up.

"Duh," Ezekiel said, everyone ignoring him.

"Where is it?" Jacob asked, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun with his hand.

"It's buried in the Black Forest," Flynn said, sounding uneasy. Then he did a double-take when he clocked Eve by his elbow. "Where have you been?" he said pompously. "Some very exciting stuff's going on here." Then he sauntered off, leaving an annoyed Eve standing in his wake.

"I think that's Flynnish for 'I missed you'," Clara said in a loud whisper, making Eve glare at her.

"Come on, troops!" Flynn hollered, waving his hand at them. "Carpe diem!"

"And I guess that's Flynnish for get your asses into gear," Eve said darkly.

Carpe diem, a battle cry
Are we all too young to die?
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Are we all too young to die?