Disclaimer: Lauren Tanner would be the star of MIOBI if I owned it. But I don't.

Author's Note: So I am totally dedicating this to Creatively Licensed B. The first Lauren-centric fanfic I ever read was Pizza Boy and Loony girl - and I've had a soft spot for Lauren/Razor ever since. And this is the result. Please R&R and tell me what you think - even if you hate it.

A Tumble Through The Rabbit Hole

'Do not take life too seriously. You will never get out of it alive.'

~ Elbert Hubbard ~

Razor remembers the day he first came across Lauren Tanner, but he's pretty certain that she has no memory of it. It was when he was fifteen and she must have been thirteen – he'd thought she was eight or something.

She was the reason he became a (budding) rock star. He was young, naive and only fifteen – he could have become a pop sensation (even if those guys make him feel like puking now). He could have fallen madly in love successfully and become a soul singer. He could have done it unsuccessfully and delved into country music.

But his young, naive self worked in the Pizza Shack to earn some extra money and one rainy day, he came across a little (crazy) blonde girl, who looked five years younger than her age and the most mesmerising eyes he'd ever come across. Unfortunately, she also had a snobby, petty attitude, a petulant scowl on her face, a grating voice and a demanding, spoilt personality. So Razor didn't fall in love. He may have fallen a prey to inspiration but not love – definitely not love.

She was the first 'bitch' he ever wrote about and for the first year (literally the first twelve months...and maybe a few extra weeks and days), every single girl in the songs that he complained about, mocked or derided were her. If he's honest, her rich-bitch-attitude is what spurned him to be a (sort of) angry teen, with issues to blast out to the sounds of the guitar.

And if he thought that maybe playing a guitar might maybe impress said rich bitch, well it's a secret he can always take to his grave. If he decides to admit it to himself.

Anyway, he remembers the miserable weather because it hadn't bothered him much until she'd stomped it. There was a scowl on her face and a look of such utter disgust that has never been rivalled in Razor's life so far. He'd come over to her, all smiles and naiveté, asking her cheerfully if she wanted a pizza and her look of disgust had then focussed onto him.

She could have said no, but she wouldn't be Lauren Tanner if she had just stuck with a no. Instead, a bunch of words enough to shock a sailor burst forth through the lips of what he'd thought of as a little eight year old girl. It was enough to make him recoil. (Actually, he'd just stared at her, too much in shock to actually move back, as her father profusely apologised.)

It ended up with him laughing, her eyes widening in surprise and lips maybe, just maybe, twitching up in a hint of a smile. Things got busy, their orders arrived and they left and Razor was left with an image a classic blonde bitch from high school. Except that he stalked all the high schools in the nearby area and he could never seem to find her. It didn't help that he had no idea what her name was. His friends accused him of making it up and he would comically widen his eyes and shake his head vigorously, telling him that he could never come up with such a look of derision, ever.

It was more than a year later when he saw her again. He was driving by in his first car when he saw her sitting in a much more expensive one. She looked like she hadn't aged a month, let alone a year. She wasn't doing much, and he had to admit, maybe there was some sort of beauty in her when she looked lost in thought and wasn't tearing somebody to shreds. He followed her all the way to what he finds out is a gymnastics gym. (Huh, no wonder she looks like a child.) He googles it some more and finds out that it is elite and expensive and the girl could do pretty incredible things with her body. (And with someone else's body but his ears go red and his face heats up badly, so he emphatically doesn't visit that thought again.)

He sort of understands her derision for pizza now. He's not sure but he guesses they can't eat too much of this or that in elite sports, and he's certain she's one of the elite ones. She looks like she wouldn't settle for anything else.

It's only a week later that he finds her in the pizza shack again. This time, he's more mature and older and observant and he prides himself on catching the look of longing she throws at the pizza. It's gotta be tough, being a kid and not being able to eat it so he surprises himself.

'I could make you like a super healthy version of a pizza?' He gives her his biggest shit-eating grin and awaits the onslaught of insults but all she gives him is a taken aback look. There's a look of recognition but it's intermingled with a look of disbelief and despite his age and maturity and wisdom, he can't work out women, let alone this crazy blonde.

'You...want me to eat pizza?' She clearly thinks it's a crazy idea. He's pretty sure she's right.

'Why not?' He stretches his grin a bit wider.

'I don't know. Maybe because I do elite sports.' There's arrogance more than pride in her voice, and a hell of a lot of smugness too. He wonders why he finds it charming.

'I know.' He nods his head vigorously. 'Gymnastics, right? You do all those crazy splits and flips and things that are like crazy awesome.'

'How do you know?' Her mouth is hanging open and now he's feeling pretty smug about it. Damn crazy blonde might be infectious. Next thing he'll know is he's acting all demanding and entitled, although if he gets infected with her gymnastics skills instead, that could work out pretty well for him.

So maybe he spent way too many hours browsing gymnastics videos from competitions and came across several of her, when he was doing all his mystery-solving googling. He's not about to admit it. 'I've seen some of the videos – you're pretty awesome you know. Triple golds in Olympics for sure.' Or maybe he will.

This time, her smile's genuine and Razor is floored, actually (but not literally) floored by how stunning she is when she does that. Her father's suddenly there and looking at him accusingly (he's pretty sure he couldn't do anything that X-rated in a family restaurant that's not even a restaurant – it's freakin' pizza shack and that is so not romantic and he's pretty sure the blonde would not go for it). They order and they leave and Razor's back to writing songs, possibly with this particular crazy blonde in mind.

And the lyrics aren't too bad, so suddenly he's got a band. And he starts to realise that maybe guitars and drums and loud music could still create a crazy kind of love songs, but maybe that totally fits the crazy personalities some blondes have.

Of course, he'd never, ever admit that – not even to himself. Even if he might be just a tiny bit smitten by said crazy blonde.