Nyssa's Christmas Carol

Part the Fourth:
The Third Spectre

"So what is it now?" asked Nyssa. "A brief TARDIS trip to my possible death?"

Without a word the spirit beckoned, and led her across the road to Dunvworpin.
She followed. Before long they had arrived at the fifth wing of the building,
beneath a large sign, possibly trying to hard to look cheerful. It read "The
Pavillion". Despite herself Nyssa found the place creepy. It was the intristic
institutionalism of the place, emphasised by the light coat of "This Is A
Friendly Place" that had been sloshed over it like too-thin-whitewash.

She sighed. "I've already *been* through this with Tegan and the day care
centre. This isn't going to be my future! It's just some sort of weird
meta-fictive shadow."

The spirit did not respond, but simply led her to the Pavillion's common room,
where a small party was underway. A woman with tightly curled greying hair,
whom Nyssa reluctantly recognised as herself, was sitting between a balding man
in a yellow dressing-gown with a star pinned to it and a woman with a single
white streak in her vivid red hair.

"Has Zack called, dear?" the other woman, whoever she was, asked Old Adric. She
had an American accent.

"Not yet. I'm sure he will. He won't forget again, surely."

"He might," responded Old Nyssa. "He's got his own troubles these days."

"Too much trouble to call his parents?" asked the woman, and that was when it
clicked.

"Number One???" said Nyssa incredulously. The spirit did not respond.

While they were talking, Adric suddenly slumped over. Number One sighed. Old
Nyssa... cackled. There was no other word for it, although the younger Nyssa
desperately tried to think of one.

"Don't you ever get bored with that?" Number One asked, mildly. "Poison in the
tea again?"

Old Nyssa shook her head. "The mince pies. Forty-eight thousand, eight hundred
and seventy-two times now, and I've never repeated myself once!"

"Well, as long as you're happy."

Nyssa turned to the spirit. "I know the Spirit of Christmas Yet To Come doesn't
speak, but leaves the Scrooge character to figure everything out for
his/herself, but *what* is the *point* of this?"

The spirit turned... and spoke.

FORTY-EIGHT THOUSAND, EIGHT HUNDRED AND SEVENTY TWO. IN *ADDITION* TO MY
REGULAR WORK. PLEASE, TAKE A DAY OFF, AND LET ME SPEND HOGSWATCH WITH SUSAN AND ALBERT, EH?

Nyssa looked into Death's eye sockets, and thought.

"Okay." she said... and was back in bed.


Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Five

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