PLATO'S STEP-DAUGHTER I FLYNN CARSEN

Ain't That Unusual

Author's Note: This is the sequel to And She Was Not An Adventure. The reading order so far for all of my Flynn/Clara fiction is: And She Was Not An Adventure and Plato's Step-Daughter. Each new Flynn/Clara story will include an updated reading order. All my Librarians fiction can be found under the 'My Stories' section of my profile. Videos for characters canon and original, can be found on my Youtube channel via the link on my profile.

~*~

Ain't That Unusual

Before

"I know Flynn is technically the Librarian," Jenkins said as Clara came through the doorway, almost tripping over his tea-trolley, "and that I technically work for the Librarian..." he continued, glancing up at Clara. "Oh hello, Delilah," he drawled, his nostrils flaring with dislike. "How was the tonsil-tennis? Got Wimbledon in your sights, have we?"

Clara blushed hotly and furiously, her fists clenching by her sides, the others raising their eyebrows at her, Ezekiel shooting her a knowing grin.

"Look," Eve interjected, striding forwards, until she was almost nose to nose with Jenkins, "you don't really have a choice in this, Jenkins. These four will be using this Annex as a base of operations, and I'll be supervising their security. So make yourself useful, or make yourself gone." Her words hung in the air, making Jenkins finally back down.

"I suppose there's always the clippings book," Jenkins said, tilting his chin.

"What's a 'clippings book'?" Cassandra asked, shrinking into herself slightly, still unsure of her place amongst them.

"O child of the annoying digital age," Jenkins sighed heavily, "let me enlighten you on the ancient art of scrapbooking." He led the way over to Flynn's desk, the others trailing after him like lost souls, watching as he lifted up a heavy-looking tome, its covers battered, its spine cracked. "It's how we used to gather information about news-stories," he explained, flicking through its many pages. "Each page has clippings from different sources detailing a bizarre mystery" -

- "We really don't need some scrapbook full of old newspaper articles," Jacob said impatiently, straightening his scarf. "We're here to save the world, not mince through micro-film."

"O silly Midwestern person," Jenkins said, shaking his head. "This clippings book is the Library's clippings book." He shut it with a loud bang. "Every night there is a new page," he continued, setting it back down on the desk, "with new information about a new mystery happening that very day, and will you be quiet!" he snapped at the complaining desk. "It's not my fault they're as ignorant as a newborn infant!"

"Says the buffoon in the bow-tie," the desk said nastily. "Fancy a game of hypocrisy, anyone?"

Jenkins rolled his eyes. "Come, let's begin," he said to the others, beckoning them forwards, before flipping the clippings book open again. "Ah," he said, "here we go..."

~*~

One month later

Clara strutted down the sidewalk like it was a catwalk, feeling like a complete fool. She was wearing an all too convincing blonde wig, her skin slathered in fake tan, her hem and heels outrageously high. It had been Eve's idea to cast Clara in the role of bait, pointing out Clara's power lay in her pretty face, that people would always understimate her because of it. Eve was trying to teach them to play to their strengths, but it was a lesson Clara didn't want to learn. Her main strength was her brain, not the way she looked, but Eve was adamant it wasn't, an argument Eve had won by dressing Clara up like Trailer Trash Barbie.