Name: The Alarm Clock (Or how Spook found a strange love of musicals.)
Summary: Spook and Darren's life in Room 6 is never boring. They laugh, they fight, and somewhere along the way, fall in love. They also have joint custody of an alarm clock. A musical one.
Warnings/Info: Contains slash, and mild profanity. Spook/Darren, with mentions of Spook/Mia. I own neither Shapeshifter or any of the songs mentioned in this fic! This is a 3-shot.
"Our lives are made up of minute details," Mrs Sartre said grandly during the Cola's weekly RE and Citizenship lesson. So far, they'd been talking about everything from faith, to technology, music and art. Mrs Sartre had a lax view on the curriculum in these sorts of lessons- she preferred to let the students hone their debating and compassion skills by talking- or sometimes arguing- about a variety of different subjects.
"Like what?" Lisa asked tartly. Mrs Sartre smiled, and gestured with her hands as she spoke.
"Like objects, for example. Do any of you have objects in your room, seemingly insignificant objects that play a huge part in your lives?"
Everyone in the room paused for a moment, and looked at their room-mates. Jacob and Alex stared at each-other, obviously communicating. One of them shrugged, and the eye contact was broken. Clive and Barry exchanged whispers, and one of the girls laughed.
"Not anyone?" Mrs Sartre asked.
Slowly, a hand crept up. Everyone turned to look at Darren, sitting at the back of the room. Spook, his room-mate, stared at him in astonishment.
"What seemingly insignificant object do we have that play an important role in our lives?" Spook parroted from Mrs Sartre to his friend.
"Well," Darren said slowly. Normally, he didn't draw attention to himself in class. "There's our alarm clock."
A few- well, a lot of people sniggered, but Spook just grinned, a look of dawning comprehension on his face. Mrs Sartre spoke again.
"I don't think you quite understood me," she attempted. "I don't mean objects that play a day-to-day role, like waking you up for school. I mean objects of sentimental value, perhaps objects that have brought people closer together, perhaps."
"But that's what I'm saying!" Darren protested. "It's not just an alarm clock. It's like-" but he shook his head. "Spook, you explain."
"With pleasure," his friend agreed. "You see, it all started on my first week at Tregarren- just before Darren arrived..."
The first time Spook wrote home, he wasn't really expecting anything back. Nothing from his dad, anyway. He wrote two and a half pages to his family on the school, his new friends, the customary miss-you's, and then a whole paragraph on the school bell.
It's not that it wasn't a good bell. It was a fine bell. It did everything a bell should, really, it was loud and shrill. It did it's job wonderfully- if it's job was scaring Spook half to death every morning.
So when Spook wrote home for the first time, he didn't expect a whole bloody package to arrive. He laughed at Emma's hasty crayon drawing, of what seemed to be a potato with orange hair standing on some grass. He smiled at Oliver's postcard- which had a few encouraging words written in his step-mother's handwriting, signed with a shaky "Olly" and a kiss. He read the letter from his parents, (well, a letter from his step-mum, signed "from both of us,") more times than he really cared to admit.
Then he opened the package.
In retrospect, he shouldn't have been too surprised, after he complained so much about the bell. A disc shaped machine slid out from the padded envelope on to his bed. It was blue and shiny, and looked remarkably like a portable CD player. For a moment, he thought his technology-phobic step-mum had picked it up by mistake, but then he read the instructions, and grinned from ear to ear.
It was a portable CD player, yes, but one that had a setting to play any song at a particular time.
In short, a very useful, incredibly cool alarm clock.
Result, Spook thought.
"All right, so far, I'm not getting the sentimental bit. Is it just cause your step-mum sent it?" Gideon asked, his arms folded. Across the table, his twin brother look folded his arms too, making a perfect copy.
"Would you let me finish the story?" Spook demanded. Gideon huffed, and waited patiently for him to start again.
"Right. So, I'd just got this alarm clock, and at that moment I didn't have a room-mate right, see? And you know, with the bell and everything, I didn't really need one apart from for the week-ends. And I didn't have many CD's."
"You should have seen his taste in music back then," Darren scoffed. "My ears were bleeding!"
"Anyway," Spook carried on, "about a week later, my first room-mate arrived. Peter Raker?" Barry gave a nod of recognition.
"Yeah, I knew him! He was a glamourist, I was with him in development back in Tregarren. He shared a room with you?" Barry asked in astonishment.
"He doesn't like to talk about it..." Spook replied darkly.
A knock came on Spook's door.
"Spencer?"
Spook raced over to his door, muttering angrily. "It's Spook! No-one calls me Spencer!" He fully expected to see Mr Hind, or Jamie from the football team. Instead, a weedy, blonde boy stood before him, clutching a suitcase. "Err... hello," he greeted him cautiously.
"Hi-hello," the weedy boy stuttered out. "Um, I'm Peter... I'm your new room-mate?"
Spook narrowed his eyebrows.
"I didn't know I was getting a room-mate."
"Umm, it was sort of short notice for me too," he joked. Spook sighed.
"You'd better come in then." Peter walked slowly through the room. He didn't touch anything, and he was so damn cautious that Spook felt like crying out to break the tension. He didn't, of course. Instead, he bounded over to his bed and surveyed the new kid intensely. "So what's your thing, then?" Peter jumped and turned around to face his new room-mate.
"Sorry?" he enquired politely and Spook sighed internally.
"You know, why are you here? What's your power?"
"Oh," Peter realised. "Well, I'm a glamour- glamourist?" Spook nodded.
"What kind?" The fair-haired boy looked startled.
"There's more than one type?"
"Well, yeah. There's my type, illusionists," Spook informed him proudly and lazily waved his hand. A stream of golden light trailed after it and Peter's jaw dropped.
"That's- that's amazing!" he gasped, eyes shining. Spook laughed and made a small shower of stars follow after it, before they flickered and died.
"I'm still learning," he informed him modestly.
"I'm not that type," Peter said. "I disappear. Or, I try to."
"Fair enough," Spook replied, and that was the most they said on the matter.
That night, Spook decided to test out his alarm clock for the first time. The following morning was a Saturday, after all. He slipped in "Blur: The Great Escape," and skipped to track 2. "Country House" started to play and he smiled, satisfied with his choice. Spook skipped it back to the beginning, and was about to set the time when he noticed Peter's reflection in the glass.
"What time do you normally wake up on a week-end?"
"What? Why?" Peter asked, startled.
"I'm setting the alarm up, that's why. Is nine all right?"
"Err... yeah, that's fine." Spook nodded and set up the clock on his bedside table.
The next morning, "Country House" blared out from the speakers.
Peter shot straight up in his bed, wide-eyed. Spook merely grinned, and rubbed his eyes. It was a good start to the morning, in his opinion.
"You're moving out?" Spook asked his room-mate in disbelief. They'd only been sharing a room for what, 3 days? "Why?"
"Umm..." Peter fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "We just... Terry hasn't got a room-mate, and we're like, friends and stuff... I didn't think you'd mind. You keep saying that you like to be on your own, anyway."
Spook mentally cursed. Sure, he liked to be on his own, but he didn't want to be the kid whose room-mate walked out on him. Peter wasn't even that close with Terry, he was sure of it.
"Sure, I don't care," he lied. "Go and move in with Terry. I'm sure you'll be very happy together." He sat on his bed and pretended to be engrossed in a magazine, while his ex-roomie grabbed his suitcase- he'd already packed a damn suitcase?- and wheeled to the door. Peter was about to leave when a thought struck Spook.
"You hated the alarm clock, didn't you?"
Peter nodded sadly. "I don't really like music," he told him, and left.
Spook huffed. Didn't like music.
"Freak," he exclaimed, to no-one in particular.
The next day, another new kid appeared. His name was Jamie, and he was obnoxious.
"You have a musical alarm clock?" he spluttered when they met on his first day. "How much of a kid are you?" Spook suppressed an urge to punch him in the nose, and just shrugged.
"I like it. Your bed's over there." Jamie rolled his eyes and flounced over to his area of the room.
"Great. Just great. I was hoping for a great room-mate like you," he muttered under his breath. Spook scowled at him, and Jamie returned the favour.
The next morning, Song 2 came out of the speakers. On full volume.
"You're a bloody public menace!" Jamie cursed him when he woke up.
The two did not walk down to breakfast together, and they didn't eat together either. Spook went to his usual table with his rag-tag gang of illusionists. Jamie went to sit with Gideon Reader, of all people. Spook crashed his tray down in his usual spot and attacked his toast with the venom he usually reserved for playing against the Tregarren Tigers. Spook's friend Claire laughed at him and made sympathetic noises while he munched on his breakfast with a glare on his face.
"What's up?" she cooed. Spook stabbed his fork in the general direction of Jamie's table.
"New room-mate," he growled as he swallowed his toast. "He's a prick."
"Well, he is a tele," someone else called out.
"It's not that," Spook defended. "I've got no problem against tele's. Or most of them, anyway. He's just a prick." A few people laughed.
"Well," Claire thought aloud, "I'm sure he'll leave soon, cause John over there's also a tele, and he hasn't got a room-mate. Then someone else will come along-"
"Who will undoubtedly be as much of a disaster as the last two," Spook moaned at her, though he knew it wasn't Claire's fault.
"Hey, Williams!" someone across the room shouted out. He turned around.
"What?" he spat out when he saw Gideon grinning at him.
"Is it true you've got a musical alarm clock?" he jeered. Spook's face flushed, and he shook himself. He wasn't going to let himself be embarrassed by that blonde twerp.
"Yeah, so?" he asked. Gideon was unperturbed.
"What does it play?" he retaliated. "Twinkle twinkle little star?"
"I'm not surprised that's the first song you could think of, Reader," he spat back, but people still laughed at him as he got up and walked out of the cafeteria after putting his tray away. The last thing he saw as he flounced out the door was Jamie's smirking face.
"Spencer, what are we going to do with you? That's two room-mates you've driven away now."
Ouch, Spook thought. Thanks for putting it nicely, Mr. Hind.
"It's Spook, Mr Hind."
"Sorry, Spook." Owen stared at him with a slight air of desperation. He'd called Spook to his office after James Finnegan had come to him asking to change rooms.
"I don't care if Jamie switches rooms," Spook told him. "He's really annoying. I'm better off without him." Owen sighed.
"Jamie seems to have cooked up a plan with his friend Ryan about switching rooms, did you know?" Spook shook his head.
"Doesn't Ryan already have a room-mate?" Spook strained to try and think of him. He was another illusionist, he didn't speak much in lessons, hadn't ever spoken to Spook... "Dylan somebody?"
Owen laughed. "Darren Tyler," he informed him. "And from what I hear, he doesn't think much of his room-mate either. He said he doesn't mind moving to your room."
"I'm thrilled," Spook responded dryly. Owen nodded. "Good, then he can move in to yours today."
"Great."
"Spook," Owen told him sternly, "this is your last chance, all right? Try and make this one work."
Darren Tyler arrived around an hour later with a small blue suitcase. Spook just stood in the doorway for a moment, sizing him up.
He had long-ish, shaggy hair, that was so black it shimmered and his fringe fell a little over his left eye. Darren's family was from somewhere in the Caribbean, Spook remembered from a distant conversation with Claire, and his skin was the colour of dark chocolate. His eyes were also dark, and they were fringed by long black eyelashes. His face on the whole was rather feminine, but not so much that he got teased about it. Darren wore band t-shirts and long shorts or ripped jeans to offset his girly features. He blinked at Spook, not knowing what to say as his new room-mate didn't say anything either. They'd only ever spoken for about 5 seconds before, if for any time at all.
"Hi," Spook decided on as a greeting. Nice one, Spook. Original.
"Hi," Darren returned. He smiled nervously. "I'm your new room-mate, but I guess you already knew that, right?" Spook laughed, and suddenly realised he was blocking Darren from coming in. He moved aside quickly.
"Sorry. Come in. I'm Spook, if you didn't know." Darren wheeled his little suitcase to the empty bed and sat down.
"Yeah, I knew. Darren," he informed him, and Spook nodded.
"Cool. Um, nice to meet you. Properly, that is." The two stared at each-other for a moment, until Darren laughed again.
"What?" the red-haired boy asked, immediately defensive.
"This is really awkward, isn't it?" his new friend asked. Spook laughed too. He liked the new kid immediately.
"Well, I guess you should know some stuff about this room."
"It's not haunted, is it?"
"No," Spook said, though according to most of the mediums there were always ghosts knocking about.
"Ohh," Darren replied. "Is this about the alarm clock?" Spook stared at him. Of course he knew. There's no way Spook was going to be let off that easy, was he?
"Err, yeah. I know it's not cool, I don't really use it or anything."
Darren's face was unintelligible for a moment as Spook fidgeted nervously. Then he broke into a grin.
"Well, I think it's an awesome idea. Can I see it?"
Spook also broke in to a grin.
"Yeah," he told him. "Yeah, you can."
"You honestly don't think it's weird?"
"No, I think it's brilliant. Although I'm sensing you're a major Blur fan, and I'll warn you now, there's only so much Brit-pop I can take."
Spook learnt quickly that Darren was a serious music fan. He'd joked when Darren was unpacking that he couldn't see many CD's, until Darren threw a black fabric case at him. Inside was around 50 plastic sleeves, each housing a different CD. He started to flick through them, but Darren quickly wrenched it away half-way through, a look of anguish on his face.
"What?" Spook asked.
"Nothing," he mumbled. He deliberated then gave the case back to Spook. "Don't laugh at me, all right?"
"Why would I-" Spook resumed flicking through- "Oh." According to Darren's neat label on the first sleeve, he had arrived at the "musicals" section. He passed Chicago, Les Miserables, South Pacific, Moulin Rouge, RENT... to name a few. Darren blushed in the background and buried himself in his unpacking.
"Big musicals fan, hey?" Spook joked. Darren blushed even harder.
"My um... my gramma likes them. She got me into it."
"I'm not judging," Spook reassured him, though he couldn't resist one little dig. "Does your boyfriend like them too?"
"Shut up!" Darren threw a pair of socks in his general direction and they hit Spook on the nose.
"Ow!" Spook complained, and wondered whether he'd upset his new room-mate already. Luckily, Darren was laughing. Spook looked at a few more- he saw Jack Johnson, Kate Nash, The Killers, The Clash, The Doors... his music taste was varied, but looked good.
He let Darren pick the song for the morning. He put in the Jack Johnson CD and the song "Better Together," a song Spook had never heard by an artist he had no idea existed. Darren assured him he'd like it. For some reason, Spook believed him.
The two spent an hour talking. Spook learnt that Darren's family was from Kingston- ("Kingston? I thought your family came from the Caribbean?" "Yeah, Kingston, Jamaica, idiot.") Darren told him that he lived with his Grandma in Devon- ("You've got a rubbish Devonshire accent, you know that?" "I- I wasn't aware I really had an accent." "That's what I mean. You could work for the BBC!") and that he never saw his dad because he was a pilot for commercial airlines. Spook noticed the curl in his lip and the slight frown as he talked about his father. Darren also told him that he liked to sing, and was looking forward to music class. Spook told him about his family- his lovely step-mum, and his sweet yet really annoying step-siblings. He didn't talk about his dad, and Darren didn't question him on it.
Darren was right, Spook mused as he got dressed in his school uniform, Better Together is a really good song. It was happy and mellow, putting both the boys in a good mood. It was the best morning Spook had had in ages- and it was made even better by the fact that when he woke up, he had Darren to talk to. Not stuttering, whimpering Peter, or annoying, obnoxious Jamie, but Darren, who smiled a lot and seemed to just always know stuff, like they'd been living together for ages. They'd been pretty good so far, bu just before they left the room to go to breakfast, Darren stopped suddenly and bit his lip.
"Spook?" he asked. Spook looked at him questioningly.
"Umm, this is gonna sound weird, but..." he seemed to be searching for the right words. "Basically, I'm really glad that Jamie was a prick," he decided. "Because now I have a decent room-mate."
Spook stared at him for a few moments.
"Decent?" he squawked out. "Decent? I am an awesome room-mate. Awesome." Darren poked him in the side.
"Get over yourself," he laughed, and they walked to dinner side by side.
AN: I know, it's not a fantastic ending, but this IS a 3-shot, so keep checking for an update! (Or better yet, put this on your Story Alerts!) Don't forget to review, I'm rather worried about this chapter and just a moment of your time to say what you thought would mean the world to me.