NOT MY GOPHER!

[kate]

Cory pushed a piece of his snack cake through the bars of his pet gopher's cage, and watched as the little guy snapped it up. Maybe he wasn't supposed to feed it human food, but the gopher sure seemed to like it, and he hadn't died yet. So, you know. Here, little guy, have some snack cakes.

That gopher had been with him for nearly three years now, and he still didn't have a proper name for it. It wasn't that Cory wasn't imaginative enough to think of a name for his pet; quite the contrary. He couldn't stick to just one name. His pet gopher had a new name every time Cory fancied, which was often. Right now, the gopher was called "Rugger." Don't ask him why. And don't get used to it. It'll change soon.

Wiping the crumbs from his hands, Cory looked around the smallish dorm. He had already set up the few things he brought over on his side of dorm 2W: he had made his bed and put his laptop on his desk, unpacked his clothes into the dresser, and put Rugger's cage on the ground at the foot of his bed. His laptop was playing "Bangarang" by Pogo, and it was the kind of music strange enough to hold Cory's short attention for any amount of time. There were still a few more things to unpack, so Cory crossed the room to turn up his music a little louder, and then went to see to his bags.

Now, he knew he wasn't supposed to keep his foil with him, and it was technically supposed to stay locked up in the equipment room in the gym, only to be used for practice there. But this was Cory's personal foil, and he liked to swing it around when he hand nothing else to do. Which was annoyingly often. Cory picked it up, and felt the heft of it for a moment before standing it up next to his desk. Hopefully, he'd be able to keep it there without it being taken away from him.

Though, of course, if that happened, Cory could always resort to his slingshot.

Yeah. He had a slingshot.

Finished, Cory ceremoniously hung his old, beaten-up baseball cap off his bed post, and flopped down onto his mattress. He wondered vaguely who his roommate would be and if they'd get along. He hoped he'd be someone as energetic as he was, and not some lazy-ass who could hardly be bothered to get out of bed, as it was the one reason Cory had opted for the all-male dorm wing instead of the co-ed. Otherwise, there would be a bit of a clash where he was sure to be blamed for being too hyper.

Rugger started making whistling noises, and Cory propped himself up on his elbows, looking towards the foot of his bed where the gopher paced. "What'sa matter, Rugger?" He cooed, switching positions so that his head was at the other end of his bed. And what was that tune Rugger kept whistling?

[hook]

Drake had been looking forward to this second semester thing since practically the first day of the last semester. He just couldn't stand that scrawny little thing they had tried to room him with, the one that had to have EVERYTHING by the book and if something went against the rules, well it simply " wasn't acceptable!"

That kid had gotten soooo messed up in the time he had been around Drake.

As it was, Drake was simply hoping for a nice one of his own to be roomed with. he knew that might have been too much to ask for, but it was all he could want. He just knew he would end up entering another cycle of beating and introductions to the various forms of drugs, and he really just wasn't up for that this half the year. He just wanted to be able to sit back and get high and not have anyone bother him.

He opened the door to his new dorm only to be assaulted by...what the fuck was that music? Drake heard random clicks and words and...was that kid's singing? God, please tell him he hadn't ended up with some freak who actually LIKED this stuff. This had to be a joke. His new roommate was going to turn it off any second now laughing his ass off just at the weirdness of this music.

Then Drake saw the kid who was supposed to be his new roommate. And all his hopes of having a rommie who he could just hang out with and be chill around crumbled right before his eyes.

Him. The stupid little freak that had managed to beat Drake at fencing. The ONE singular runt that could. Drakes hand balled into a fist. To add insult to injury, there he was, standing right in his ( their?) room with his foil, as if taunting Drake.

Drake glared at the kid. There was something seriously wrong about this. Either those bitches in guidance and rooming had somehow heard about the whole fencing thing, or some higher power floating around up there had a seriously sick and twisted sense of humor.

" You're in the wrong room." he informed the freak before dumping his stuff at the foot of the bed and flopping down onto it, pillow held firmly over his eyes and ears so he could just pretend that this wasn't happening to him.

[kate]

Cory rolled onto his stomach as he heard the doorknob turn. This is it! He thought excitedly, batting at Rugger's cage to get him to stop whistling. This is the moment we've been waiting for, folks! Cory looked up..

...to come face to face with Drake Sterling.

"Ha ha ha!" Cory laughed, a few quick bursts escaping before he had to clamp a hand over his mouth. His shoulders still shook as he watched Drake dump his stuff on the floor and drop to his bed. "You're in the wrong room," he growled from beneath his pillow, and Cory couldn't stop from laughing even harder.

He got up, giggling still, and crossed over to Drake's side of the room. Lifting the pillow with his thumb and forefinger, Cory peeked at Drake's exasperated face. "I don't think so," he chuckled, a sly grin lighting up his eyes and cracking his cheeks. "2W, West Wing. Who knew they put juniors and seniors together, though, eh?" Cory laughed again and dropped the pillow back on Drake's face.

Oh, this was exciting! Cory probably couldn't have asked for a better roommate. Granted, Drake was a drug-tastic loser, but Cory always seemed to rub him the wrong way, meaning retaliation, or in Cory's eyes, fun. He didn't know why Drake didn't take Cory's teasing all in good fun, but whatever. It got a rise out of him that usually ended in entertainment, like a certain fencing bout in Cory's favor.

Too soon?

Cory hurried over to his computer and shut off his music. "You know what this means, right?" He asked as he powered his computer down. The pc made those funny little shut off noises as he continued, "This is probably going to be the most entertaining semester ever. Wait'll I tell Lucy." Rugger whistled loudly and scratched the bars of his cage, but Cory took no notice. Instead, he rifled through his desk drawer to extract his slingshot and the beads he used for ammo. He pulled the string taught and aimed for Drake's pillow. "Won't this be fun?"

[hook]

This was not happening. This was just something that the freak had dreamt up to piss off Drake. He could see him doing that, getting a copy of the room listings and setting up his stuff in Drake's room. He would do it just to piss Drake off...

Which was definitely working.

Suddenly there was light and...that face, that stupidly smiling face staring STRAIGHT down at him.

"I don't think so. 2W, West Wing. Who knew they put juniors and seniors together, though, eh?"

Then, mercifully, the pillow dropped back down and Drake could go back to sulking/ placing himself firmly in denial. He heard the strange, techno-ey yet not music turn off along with the computer, but that weirdass whistling noise was still annoying the hell out of Drake. He was starting to feel like the dude in that one poem, who killed the guy and then started hearing the heart beat or whatever. Except this time, Drake was hearing the weird shit even BEFORE he killed someone.

He sat up, legs dangling of the bed and the pillow falling to the floor. His eyes were wildly circling throughout the room, trying ti figure out what the hell it was.

" Okay, first things first. Give me whatever the fuck is making that nosie so I can crus- What the FUCK do you think you're doing?"

The last coment was mainly do to the freaky junior holding some kind of, what the hell even was that? A slingshot? Oh hell no, if anyone was going to be holding a weapon on the other roommate it would be Drake.

[kim1]

Sammy just loved moving to new dorms in his cage. Cory always took care of him, feeding him his favorite snacks. Today's treat was those cake like snacks. For a normal gopher, he should have died with one bit, but Sammy wasn't normal. Of course, Cory probably didn't even realize anything unusual yet. He never tried to feed him gopher type foods, but Sammy wasn't complaining, he liked not eating that grass crap. He may be part gopher, but he's been human for too many years, grass and human digestion tracks don't mix.

Sammy watched Cory move about his room, playing with his foil and got stuck listening to the same strange music Cory had on his laptop. Over the past three years, Cory's interesting taste had grown on Sammy, after listening to it day in and out with his friend.

When and if the music ever got too much or Sammy simply got bored in his cage, he whistled. He whistled sometimes just get get Cory's attention or to try and wake up Peter. Sammy had gone through a couple of tunes, like 'Follow the Leader' and 'Second Star to the Right', but these never really got his attention. The one that always got him t pick his head up and acknowledge him was 'You Can Fly! You Can Fly! You Can Fly!', the song Sammy was whistling, when Cory asked "Rugger" what the matter was.

One thing that Sammy could never get use to, or like, was the constant name changes. Cory could never stick with a 'pet name' for him for more than a week. Sammy thought he would run out of strange names, but nope, he found Rugger and was sticking to that one for now, hopeful only one more day. Sammy really needed to discuss with Cory about his 'gopher's' name.

Sammy sat thinking of names other than Sammy he'd like to be called, when Drake Sterling walked in. Sammy stopped whistling for a moment to give a gopher laugh. How fitting that the school would put Peter Pan and Captain 'Cod-fish' Hook together. Sammy knew Drake was Hook, shortly after meeting him. Sammy had gone to watch one of Cory's fencing practices, hoping that maybe holding the foil and sparring with someone would wake up Peter, but to no avail. Cory still remained in the dark, but Sammy saw how Drake was sparring and watching how Cory and Drake didn't get along in anything, it didn't take Sammy long to see that dark cloud around Drake.

Sammy sat watching the two interact, before picking up on his whistling. As far as he knew neither boy had realized they were also story book characters. Maybe if he whistled a different tune, say 'Never Smile at a Crocodile.' Just as he was picking up this tune, he noticed that Cory had his slingshot in his hand and pointing it at Drake. Drake had noticed this too. Sammy sat back on his hunches, crossing his front paws, whistling merrily, waiting to see what these two would do.

[kate]

Cory lined up his shot, crooked grin crinkling his eyes and he laughed. Drake's reaction to him was by far the best he could have hoped for. Cory was having too much fun ruffling his feathers. Again he pulled the string taught and was about to let loose, fire past Drake's head just to shake him up, when he cried out.

"Okay, first things first. Give me whatever the fuck is making that noise so I can crus- What the FUCK do you think you're doing?"

The grating language rankled Cory and he grimaced, lowering his slingshot innocently to his side. He pocketed the bead and looked curiously at Drake, head cocked to the side so that his hair did a funny sort of a flip on the top of his head. "What do you mean?" He asked bluntly, sticking the slingshot in the back pocket of his jeans. "The thing making the noise, or what I'm doing? Because I was about to scare you with my slingshot, but now I'm all confused!" He cried happily, throwing his arms in the air and spinning around once, only to fall bouncing onto his mattress.

From there, he scrambled to the end of his bed, sitting on the balls of his feet with his legs curled up to his chest. "But the noise part, well this is Rugger. He's my gopher!" Cory pointed to the cage at the foot of his bed, where Rugger was whistling a tune Cory could swear he remembered from some Disney movie. Reaching over to his desk, he pulled out another snack cake and broke it in half, giving some to Rugger to quiet him down. The other half was forced whole into his own mouth, and, cheeks bulging, he turned to look at Drake.

Cory swallowed noisily, and shrugged. "He won't give you any trouble, anyway," he said, pulling out his slingshot and setting it on his desk next to his laptop and box of snack cakes. "That is, unless you do something to make me sick my gopher on you. Then he can get troublesome." Another cocky grin, and Cory eyed first Drake, and then the foil leaning on the wall. "Not that I'd really need his help if it came to more... confrontational measures."