Hey! I'm back and apologising profusely for forgetting this story. Plus I had a bit more writer's block which never helps. So, another long cha[ter for you!

Anyway for those of you still with me, I have recently started a crossover with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and the 7D called 'A journey through time', if you want to check it out.

BTW Roald Dal's 'Concerning Violet Beauregard' poem can be found in his 'Song and Verses' book.

Anyway – on with the story.

"Oh for crying out loud…" Christopher muttered as he sat behind his desk trying to come up with something that sounded vaguely like a poem.

"You all right?" Winnie asked, not looking up from his own work.

"Fine. Just slowly dying of frustration."

It was now mid-February, just after the half term and this was where the teachers were really cracking up the pace. Because after the Easter holidays were where finals had to be handed in, and work was marked. His and Winnie's own teacher wanted them to analyse 3 poems and write one of their own. Christopher could analyse them alright, it was the writing of poems that stumped him.

"What have you got so far?" Winnie asked, setting his pencil down.

Christopher picked his paper up and read aloud. "Why oh why, can I not write a poem? It can't be difficult if all these old guys can do it. Maybe I write something about the trees? But that's boring. How about something about what I had for lunch…"

"Christopher." Winnie interrupted, running a hand through his hair with rare exasperation. "Am I right in thinking this dreadful excuse for poetry carries on for the half-a-page you've written?"

"Yes."

"Why!?"

"I'm counting on the fact miss said poems don't have to rhyme." Christopher explained.

"Yes, that's right. It does, however, help if they made the slightest of sense slash had a point to them."

"I can't help it! Poetry does not come naturally to me, unlike you."

Winnie opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the bell. As they collected their stuff, Winnie grabbed Christopher's sheet of paper and threw it in the bin.

"Hey! I spent a whole lesson on that!"

"I know. But Christopher if you think I'm letting you hand that in, you've got another thought coming."

"You can't actually give me the answer, it's against the rules."

Winnie fixed him with a 'duh' look. "That's impossible with poetry, every person thinks differently. And I won't give you the answer I'll just point you in the direction that's not TRASH, okay?"

"…Okay."

"Fine, mine after school?"

Christopher perked up. "Yeah!" He hadn't seen Pooh's family since last month.

Winnie nodded. "Good, that's settled then. You better ring your mum. Now c'mon or we'll be late for the last lesson."

After the excruciating hour had passed and Christopher had called his mother him and his friend arrived back at the house.

"We're back!" Winnie bellowed, shutting the door.

"Hey, Christopher Robin!" Roo chirped from the living room door.

"Hey Roo."

The child smiled and nodded, before frowning and shutting the door.

"What's up?" The blonde asked immediately. Christopher supposed he'd lived with the kid long enough to know when something was wrong.

"Tigger had a job interview today." Roo answered.

Christopher perked up. "A job interview? For like proper paid work? Cool! Where?"

"St John's primary school, down the road, you know the one by the park?" Winnie explained. "It was a neat sounding job, a sports activities director, wanted for what was it? Two hours a week or something like that? Tigger could have smashed it, but I'm taking it it didn't go that well?" He directed the last part at Roo.

The child shook his head.

"Great." Winnie ran his hand through his hair again. "Let's talk to him then, where is he?"

Roo pointed to the living room.

Christopher dithered awquadly. "Should I just stay out here? Or come in? Or…"

"Stay out here." Winnie ordered, going into the living room.

So the brown-haired boy did and soon found himself bored. He leaned his back against the wall wondering where the heck everyone else was.

"Are you standing here for a reason or do you like looking like a creep?" He looked up, Rabbit was in front of him, looking really annoyed.

"Hello Rabbit."

The frown on the other boys face got deeper. "I keep telling you its Richard."

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"Eh, I suppose it's no matter. Well?"

"What?"

Rabbit sighed in exasperation. "Whatever." He made to enter the living room when Christopher threw himself across the door. "What the hell are you…!?"

"Tigger's in there."

"So?"

"With Winnie and Roo."

"Yeah? So?"

"So, you can't go in?" The minute he said it Christopher regretted it because Rabbit's eyes turned to slits.

"Excuse me? I can't go in? This is my house! You're the guest! You have no right to tell me if I can or can't enter a room! Its 5, I read in there for half an hour at five – they know that! What are they doing in there? A sacred ritual?"

"No…"

"Well then get out my way." Rabbit snapped using one arm to roughly shove Chrispther out the way. He was a lot stronger than the boy had anticipated.

Marching into the living room, Rabbit demanded. "Now what's going on in here then? Why the sudden need to appoint Chrispther Robin as a guard? I don't understand…Tigger what the hell is wrong with you!?" Christopher had never heard anyone say such a supposedly caring question in such an abrupt tone before.

Tigger was sat on the sofa, hands propping his head up, looking as if the ceiling had fallen in. Roo was next to him, looking fairly surprised and Winnie was on the other side of him not looking at all surprised. "Tigger didn't get that job he went after today." He explained gently. "I was reciting a poem to him; I thought it might cheer him up." He gave a little laugh. "But it didn't work."

"Of course it didn't work, who wants to hear Roald Dahl's 'Concerning Violet Beauregard' when they're feeling down?" Rabbit snapped.

"Well it actually wasn't that one it was…"

"Irrelevant." Rabbit butted in. He then sighed, flexed his fingers and walked round to face Tigger. Christopher found himself worrying for the flame-haired man's safety. Rabbit looked liable to punch him. However he instead smiled. "Tigger."

"Rabbit."

"We have 55 minutes before tea. It's Tuna Pasta Bake, which will take Owl all of 10 minutes to make. How would you like me to make you some carrot cake?"

Tigger perked up at that. "I sure would!"

"Does that invitation extend to all of us or just Tigger?" Winnie asked, smacking his lips.

Rabbit sighed. "I suppose I let myself in for that one, didn't I?" He said to the air. "Fine, fine I'll make it for everyone." He started to leave before shooting Chrispther a look. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"For god's sake don't play dumb. Do you want some cake or don't you?"

"Er…"

"Rabbit's a very good cook." Winnie said, kneeling up on the sofa so he could see his friend better. "You really had better try some."

"Yep! Bunny-boy here makes the best cake and snacks in the world!" Tigger agreed.

Rabbit gave a smile at that. "Well…I have had a lot of practice…"

"Oh really? Where?" Christopher asked.

Rabbit glared at him. "None of your business! Now do you want some cake or don't you?"

"Yes, but I won't be able to have it here, I do actually have to go home soon. Which reminds me, Winnie? We do actually have a project to do…"

"Oh, of course. Sorry. We'll be upstairs."

"Hey, cotton-bottom, can I help you make it?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"I said no!" They're vices faded as Christopher shut the door of Winnie's room.

An hour later and the un-poetically gifted teenager had to go home, although he was now leaving with a partially-finished poem at least.

As Christopher was getting his coat someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see Rabbit who immediately handed him something wrapped in a napkin. "Here it is one piece of carrot cake. Don't squash it or drop it because if you do you are not getting another one, understand?"

"Perfectly."

"Good, and also Tigger 'helped' me make it, so any in-edible bits blame on him. Bye."

Feeling a mix of happiness and confusion Christopher went to the car and after saying hello to his mum took a bite of the cake.

"Mmm. What do you know? Winnie and Tigger were right. This is delicious." He said out loud, much to his mother's confusion, taking another bite.