This fic - or bits and pieces of it - has been sat on my computer, untouched for a year. It originally started from a conversation with Jan, DD, and I think Em and Jess on the Spooks site...if I have missed anyone off that list then apologies! Anyway, I started writing then got stuck and became convinced it was unfit for publication. But in honour of a certain peas special day, I am taking a very deep breath and posting.

Emma - Have a wonderful day/week/year my lovely, this is for you.

Thanks Katie for the beta.

ONCE UPON A HIGH SCHOOL

Ruth glanced in the mirror that stood in the corner of her cool, shadowy attic bedroom and sighed, smoothing down her skirt with cold shaky hands.

Another house move, another new school. Another term of being a misfit, the new girl. Another set of attractive, well dressed, sporty, popular girls with their lap dog boyfriends to peer at her disdainfully and then totally dismiss her when she, as she inevitably would, aced her assignments and rose to the top of the class. Another group of teachers to adopt her as their pet, which made her cringe every time it happened.

At least there were only fourteen months of school life to go. Surely her parents were unlikely to move again before her A-levels and after that she would be free. Freedom. University. Three or four years studying a subject she loved in a centre dedicated to teaching that subject. Oxford was her first choice, with its glorious architecture, hundreds upon hundreds of beautiful books to immerse herself in and hopefully a greater number of like minded students than she had come across so far in her school career. Maybe she would finally find a kindred spirit.

Sitting down on the bed, she leant forwards to pull on the mid calf length tan boots, then straightened, adjusting her precious necklace – a present from her Grandmother – around her neck. Touching the charm like adornments once each in turn settled her and reminded her of her strength. It wasn't like she couldn't do this, merely that it was all so tedious, repetitive, and she longed to break the cycle. Be someone greater than the class swot, challenge her mind a little more than the five A – levels were doing and possibly set aside the loneliness that would sweep over her in waves at unexpected moments.

Standing up she afforded herself a last look in the mirror, running a hand through her glossy, chocolate coloured hair which fell to her shoulders in a shining wave. She briefly wondered about make up then decided against. Too many relatives and friends commented on the depth and colour of her eyes, she didn't need any more attention being drawn to her today as a result of highlighting them.

Grabbing her canvas bag, she stepped through the door, pulling it to behind her.

Harry glanced in the mirror that hung on the wall in his small, shadowy hallway and sighed, running his hands down the front of his beige chino's.

Another rented house, another new school to add to his list. Another term of being the newbie, a misfit. Another set of attractive, well dressed, sporty, popular girls to eye him up and down like a piece of meat at an auction, with their lap dog boyfriends glaring at him and making immature threatening noises if he so much as asked the girls a question. Another group of class swots to attach themselves to him like a pet, which made him cringe every time one of them stuck their hands up first in class or offered to gather up assignments from around the classroom for him.

At least there was only a year or so to go. Surely MI5 couldn't keep him waiting any longer than that? He would never have believed such a ridiculous system could exist within the security services before. Harry shook his head. They wanted him; he knew that. He had breezed through every test and exam required, even the bloody psych evaluation. But then had come the phone call; "Dreadfully sorry Mr Pearce……………internal politics and all that…………another 18 months before we can offer you a post most suited to your talents………….understand if this alters your desire to join us but we are very keen to maintain communication with you."

So he was continuing to pay the bills by supply teaching. A year. Just another year or so, and then freedom. Free of never being in one job long enough to get to know the students properly, to teach them as well as he felt he could. Free to start the career he had wanted and dreamed about for so long.

Reaching behind the door for his beloved coat – a gift to himself on receiving his first pay check – he pulled it off the hook and draped it across his shoulders. It wasn't that he couldn't do this merely that it was so tedious, repetitive and he longed to break the cycle. To be starting to climb the ladder of his chosen career, instead of treading water. He so much wanted to make a success of himself, and perhaps, he thought, he might even find a kindred spirit.

Adjusting his coat he took a last look in the mirror, running a hand through his golden springy curls. He wondered briefly about a tie then decided against it, he didn't need any more attention being drawn to him today by appearing too smart. Picking up his brown leather briefcase he stepped through the door, pulling it to behind him.

Please review - all help will be gratefully received!