AN; well someone from earth gets dropped in middle earth, but nowhere near Rivendell, so they don't go on the fellowship! So there! They get dropped in Rohan, but they don't fall in love with Éomer because they are a boy!! (Anyway, he's taken anyway by Lothiriel) (And don't even try to bring Eowyn in to the picture instead; she's taken too)

Disclaimer; if I owned Tolkein's characters, then I would not be wasting my time writing fan fiction. I would be spending the money all the fans generate for me!

……………………………………………………………………………………………

The paper bullet bounced off the back of his head, and landed on Katherine's table. She wrinkled her nose and flicked it over the edge with the very end of her ruler; standard regulation, WH smith, 99p. Boring. Jake smiled to himself, 'stationary to suit every character'. He turned in his seat and grinned at Adam, sitting in the back row beside the empty seat which he had just been forced to move from to sit here, at the front, right under Sir's nose.

He couldn't see why he'd been moved. Sir was probably just narked again because he'd seen Jake laughing at him from the upper floor of the bus which had sent water flooding over his bike. Jake scowled, it wasn't his fault Sir had got soaked, and no one would have not laughed to see the sodden teacher who had sent back their last essay with red pen all over it and a note at the bottom saying 'see me'.

As the lesson ended, and Jake bent down to gather up his bag from under his desk, Sir gestured for him to come see him when he had finished. Jake wearily pushed back his chair, hoping he wouldn't get another detention. Last time he had missed the bus, and his mum had been furious when he came home, "too late for your tea! Food wasted! Well I'm not cooking you anything more tonight, so you can just stay out of that kitchen". He'd had to resort to some chips from the McDonalds on the corner, risking the disapproving glances from passers by as he tried to slake his hunger on fast food. They though he was just another yobbo, out to vandalise another bus shelter or steal a car. What did they expect when they had nowhere else to go? He'd tried the local youth club a couple of times but they kept going on outings, like ten pin bowling or the cinema, and he'd felt embarrassed when he hadn't enough money to join in. It was for rich kids really.

A muffled squeak from behind him brought him sharply back to the classroom.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He groaned inwardly. He had pushed his chair right back into Katherine, and she was squashed between it and the table behind.

"Look out Jake!" Sir was scowling at him again, and he grunted a sorry to Katherine. "What did you just say Jake? I will not tolerate foul language in my class!"

Damn. Now Sir thought he'd sworn at Katherine. He bet if it was Katherine who'd done it, Sir wouldn't expect him to want an apology.

When she finally deemed that he'd got into enough trouble, Katherine left the classroom, ponytail swinging and heels tapping. She was just like the horse she kept going on about to her friends. Flicka does this, Flicka did that. Why did she deserve to have enough money for a horse of her own when his family hadn't got enough money to really afford the My Little Pony set they'd bought his little sister for her last birthday?

He shouldered his schoolbag and shuffled to the front of the classroom, not wanting to seem too obedient; Adam would be waiting outside the door, and any keenness would probably be duly noted, enlarged and then retold. He didn't want to be the laughing stock of the school, that was for sure.

Sir was routing through a draw when he reached the front desk, and eventually he withdrew the book he had been looking for. He handed it to Jake, who stared at him in astonishment.

"This is the Lord of the Rings, Jake, and I'd like you to try and read some of it. It's a great book." He smiled his I'm your friend really smile, "Maybe you saw the films?"

Jake recognised that the enquiring tilt of his head meant it was his turn or some input. He shrugged "Saw the first one. Didn't like it much."

"Oh?" Sir looked slightly surprised, "I thought they were rather good myself, though obviously, they missed out a lot of the metaphorical side, and dear old Tom Bombadil wasn't there, which I thought was rather a shame."

Jake risked a glance at the door. Sure enough there was Adam, grinning at him through the dirty window. "Uh sir", he interrupted his teacher's flow of whimsy, "Football practice starts soon and I kind of need to go…" He edged towards the door hopefully but Sir, obviously annoyed by his lack of poetic spirit or whatever, called him back.

"Well Jake, I don't think I can excuse you from detention just for a bit of a game. You will have to stay the full hour, and after your rudeness to Katherine, I hardly think you should be expecting leniency!"

Jakes shoulders sagged; his mum was going to be so annoyed if he was late again. Coach was going to be annoyed, he looked to the door as he resumed his seat, Adam gave him the finger, yes, even Adam was annoyed, now Jake had made him miss his pre-training fag for nothing. He took out the book Sir had given him and opened it to page one. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy reading, but 'literature'? That just wasn't his style. He hadn't actually been able to see the film, but Adam had told him about it and the idea of cashing in £6.50 to see 'poncy blonde men going round in tights' hadn't been particular attractive to him.

"When Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton."

Well, so far, so not good. He turned to the back of the massive book, but couldn't discern anything understandable there. It was all charts and an index. An index in a fiction book! He gave up; it was impossible. He watched the rain drops chase each other down the windows, wondering how much the team were getting yelled at out on the pitch.

At least he was still in the warm classroom. It was comfortable at least, very comfortable. The only noises were Sir's fountain pen, scratching away at the front of the class, and the notoriously noisy boiler, chugging away to itself in the corner, valiantly working to warm the room, despite the heating grills being clogged with chewing gum, and the single glazed plate glass. It was very quiet, very cosy. Very comfortable…

AN; hopefully he's not too 'poor little poor boy'. If you can't guess what will happen next chapter then you are very dense. Do R&R, especially if you don't like this character because why should I bother to write a bad story and why should you bother to let the site fill up with the bad fiction?