Disclaimer: I do not own Cherub.

Author's note: This story contains strong language which may offend some. Please don't complain if you are offended, I gave you clear warning.

Chapter one

Lauren blinked.

"That's what you wanted to tell me?" She asked, laughing, "Please, James. Whoever you told probably didn't even believe you."

"No, Lauren. She was serious. She was a reporter for some kind of tabloid, I think she'd seen me somewhere before because she kept trying to get information out of me." James could feel beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. He couldn't believe he'd revealed the existence of Cherub. Lauren's blood ran cold. Her heart started thumping against her ribcage.

"James you moron! What have you done? You've ruined me!" She screamed, leaping over the desk and grabbing James by the throat. She pulled him out of his chair and shoved him against the door. The impact caused several books to fall from their correct places and thump down onto the carpet.

"I didn't mean to, I was drunk!" James retorted, gently pushing Lauren away from him.

"No excuses, no excuses. I have to phone the board about this…" She was muttering to herself, not James. He turned to leave, but she called him back. "What was her name? Maybe we can get her arrested."

James swallowed. This was the worst part.

"I don't know. Geraldine…or Georgia…or Georgina. Something with a G."

"You're useless, James." Lauren said icily, "And you've single-handedly ruined the future of every child here. That is, if my brilliant organisational skills can't get us out of this. Now get out, I have calls to make."

The corridor felt icy cold to James.

Lauren was his sister. Why couldn't she be more understanding?

He walked towards the stairs. You're never too old to escape to your room and hide under your duvet, hoping if you don't think about a bad situation it'll just go away.

Georgia/Georgina/Geraldine had been pretty. She had smiled at him. He bought her a drink. They sat at a secluded table and she immediately started asking him about his job. He'd said, quite truthfully, that he taught maths. Her eyes had tightened. He should have known something was wrong. By the time his words had started to slur, he had already told her about cherub.

He was lost in his little flashback when he was bought hurtling back into reality by two grey shirts running past him. He blinked and shook his head, surprised.

"Sorry Mr Adams!" One of them yelled back to him, but the two didn't stop running. He smiled fondly. It was Avory Parker and Lillith McKendrick, two of his best students. Lillith had the same freaky mathematical ability he did, and Avory…well…Avory was exactly the person James had been at that age.

James shoved his hands in his pockets and wished he was that age again.

"James!" A voice called from behind. James swivelled round, surprised. It was Bruce Norris, his best mate. James had been best man when Bruce had married Gabrielle O'Brien. James' speech had comprised of five words – 'Bruce is a lucky bastard'.

"Bruce," James nodded at him.

"I just nipped in to see Lauren," Bruce was grinning, "she was pretty harassed. Told me to get out of her face and ask you what this was all about."

James looked at his shoes.

"Come on, mate! Tell me!" Bruce was holding back laughter. He knew James had messed up.

"I told a reporter that Cherub existed," James shrugged, looking up at the flickering light, "and now Lauren's going insane."

"Any idea how to fix all this?" Bruce asked, falling into step next to James.

"Nada," James sighed, "I would appreciate some help on that front, actually."

"We could go back to the bar and try and find that reporter," Bruce suggested.

"Um…yeah ok. But don't get your hopes up," James shrugged, "wait, how did you know about the bar?"

"I know a lot more than people think, James."