Author's note: There has been some confusion over Claire. She is not intended as a 'Mary-Sue' for Mike, she is just a part of Mike's history. This story is gonna be long, and it will eventually make its way to the factory, I promise!

2

Mike tapped his pencil on the desk irritably (and irritatingly) as Ms Endres marked the last of the homework.
"Michael," she snapped, "Get on with the work I've set you. This is a detention, not a way to kill time."
"Same difference," Mike muttered, reluctantly picking up a pen and filling in the worksheet on electromagnets. Ms Endres cast a steady eye over him for quite some time before getting the bin and bringing it over to her desk. Mike looked on in disgust and confusion as she began rooting through it. She obviously sensed this as she explained, "I'm counting the pieces of gum in here. I take swabs from it, send it off to a lab and give detentions to anyone I find has been chewing the stuff."
Mike furled his upper lip in distaste, "You don't really do that, do you?"
"Of course I don't, you foolish child! Do you think I'm made of money?"
"Then…what are you doing?"
"Seeing if anyone has drawn any cartoons of me. I mean, of any of the teachers. After that exceptionally rude – and crude, might I add – drawing of the headmaster by that Davies boy-" Mike sniggered to himself, "-we are all on constant alert."
Man, she's screwy, Mike thought to himself as he answered the last few questions, "I'm done."
But Ms Endres didn't look up. She was looking at a screwed up piece of paper. Mike craned his neck, trying to catch a look at what he assumed was a cartoon of one of the teachers. Preferably her.
"What's that, Ms Endres?" he said, mock-politely.
She turned the paper round so he could see it. His body shuddered with shock as he saw the sketch of Claire in her spindly fingers.
"That's not mine," he said quickly, his face prickling with the first signs of a blush.
"It's signed in your name."
"That's not me."
"How many other Mike Teavees are there in this school, for pity's sake?"
Mike hesitated, "Are you sure that's what it says?"
Ms Endres squinted at the paper, "It's a little unintelligible, but it is definitely your name."
Mike worked his mouth wordlessly; Ms Endres smirked.
"So," she said in a sing-song voice, "You like Claire, do you?"
He cleared his throat and squeaked, "No. N-not particularly."
"So, what's this?" she asked, holding up the portrait, "Are you making her passport picture for her?"

"Ms Endres?" a voice came from the door. She and Mike turned to face Claire. Mike grabbed the paper from his teacher and screwed it up tight.
"What is it, Miss Hockley?" Ms Endres said to Claire.
"Uh…the headmaster sent for you. You have a phone call waiting."
"Who is it? Did he say?"
"No, sorry. But it sounded urgent."
Ms Endres sighed, "Right. Can I trust you here on your own, Mr Teavee?"
"I guess," Mike murmured.
Ms Endres strutted out of the room. Claire smiled sweetly at her and watched her go down the corridor and turn a corner. Making sure she was completely gone, she rushed over to Mike and whispered urgently, "Go!"
Mike straightened up, "What?"
"Go! Before she finds out there's no one for her on the phone!"
Mike collected up his belongings and shoved them in his bag as he garbled, "Whaddya mean there's no one on the phone?"
"I made it up! Now go!"
"Why did you do that?"
Claire bustled him to the door hissing, "Gets you out of detention, doesn't it? Will you just go?"
Mike dithered for a while but eventually turned and headed down the corridor. He stopped as he realised Claire wasn't following him.
"Aren't you coming?" he asked.
"Well, one of us has to stay behind!"
"What the hell for?"
"To explain…? I don't know!"
Ms Endres' shoes made menacing slapping sounds as she came nearer.
"Come on!" Mike said insistently as he grabbed Claire's wrist and pulled her along. They heard Ms Endres give a frustrated sigh as they bolted out of the front door. They stopped a street down to catch their breath. Claire started giggling, "That felt quite good!"
Mike just looked at her, "Why did you do that for me?"
Claire shrugged a little, "I'm not sure. I guess I just didn't like the thought of you – I mean, of anyone – trapped in that classroom after school hours with that stroppy bitch."
Mike mumbled an agreement. He suddenly felt extremely awkward around Claire.
"I'd better go," she said, waking Mike from his trance, "It's getting late."
Mike nodded.

Claire smiled slightly, turned and walked away. After a while she stopped and turned back round, "One more thing. Do…do you have a date for the dance?"
Shocked, Mike stiffly shook his head.
"Oh, well then, maybe I'll call you sometime."
Mike managed to force some sound out of his mouth, hoping it was an 'I-have-heard-and-accepted-your-statement' sound. Obviously it wasn't an 'are-you-crazy?' sound, as she gave him a little wave and set off again. Mike fidgeted with the hem of his shirt like he always did when he was nervous or anxious. He didn't want a girlfriend! He didn't want to even go to this damned dance, let alone have a date! Maybe he could be friends with her…but anything more than that was strictly off the cards. For now.