I don't own CHERUB: Robert Muchamore does.

"Me'ball? Wha' you doin' here? Get ou'!" James slurred angrily.

Meatball shook his head in disgust. "Dad, you're as drunk as a skunk. I don't think you'd cause me much damage if I didn't leave. I think I'll get Gwen to come and sort you out. Doesn't she usually hit you on the head or something?"

"Som'ing li' tha'." James tottered around the room before collapsing on his bed. "So you can ge' ou' nah." Meatball winced as his father slid off the bed and knocked his foot on the corner of the desk. He decided that he'd better fetch his sister before James drove the desk lamp through his chest or stabbed himself with the letter knife. As he turned to leave however, his sharp eyes caught a glimpse of a shoebox sticking out from underneath the bed. The thirteen year old tip-toed over to the bed, watching his father nervously as he bent down to feel the box. A loud snore suddenly came from above Meatball and he jumped, hoping against hope that James wouldn't wake up from his sudden slumber.

Slowly, Meatball pulled the box out keeping a cautious eye on his now mumbling dad. Wandering over to the door with the box in his hands, he risked one last look into the room to make sure he hadn't been seen. Breathing a sigh of relief he turned to go back to his room when

WHAM!

He collided head-on into his fifteen-year-old sister, Jo. She glared at him.

"Watch out shrimp! Look where you're going next time! What were you doing in there anyway?"

"Dad's been at the booze again," Meatball mumbled, trying to keep the box out of sight, but to no avail. Jo grabbed her brother by the arm and roughly pulled the box out of his grasp.

"What's this?" She gasped as she recognized it. "It's not -?"

"Uh-huh," Meatball grinned. "You get Gwen and tell her to whack Dad around the head with a frying pan or something and then tell the others to come to my room. I bet they all want to see this!" Running to his room, he couldn't resist a peak: opening the lid a small crack, he could see a photo of around twenty people, underneath a paper aeroplane.

"Wait for us, why don't you?" Meatball slammed the lid shut as eleven-year-old Hannah and nine-year-old Terry poked their heads around the door. "Can we come in?" Their brother nodded and they plonked themselves on his bed.

"The others coming?" Meatball asked.

Soon, all seven siblings were either on the bed or on the floor, looking expectantly at Meatball, waiting for him to begin.

"Come on Meaty!" Kevin whined, not sounding at all like his distinguished seven years. "Open it!" Slowly, trying to coax another reaction from someone, Meatball took the lid off and yelled "SPIDER!" at the top of his voice. Hannah screamed and clutched Jo, who looked just as scared. "Joking!" he chortled, "You should've seen your face!"

"Not funny, Maximee-mee," Jo scowled, "Not funny at all." Meatball's grin vanished when his sister used his old nick-name, before he'd grown enough hair to be christened 'Meatball' after his aunt's dog. After a few slaps and a punch had made it quite clear to him that he was supposed to be showing them the contents of the box, he extracted several things. First came the paper aeroplane, then the photo. He did a quick head-count – 21 people and a dog. Next was a brutal-looking knuckleduster, something that looked suspiciously like a gun, a list of phone numbers and addresses, and then a t-shirt. A black t-shirt. With a winged baby sitting on a globe on the front, surrounded by the letters C.H.E.R.U.B.

"Ewwwww!" A disgusted noise from Jo made Meatball look up. "Listen to this: 'Ross, please phone me. You're so cute, Joanna xxx.' Who's Ross? And why's Dad got his love note?"

"Beats me," Gwen smiled, "But it looks like we've found why you're called Joanna!" Jo shuddered. "After some girl who likes Ross!" Before any of the others could start teasing her, Jo turned to Terry. "What've you got there bro?"

Terry brandished the photo at the group. "It's got all the names on the back! Look: this one's Dad," he pointed to a scruffy teenager with an Arsenal shirt on, his arm around a girl's back, "this one is Aunt Lauren, this one Uncle Rat, this one is called Terence McAfferty," he puffed his chest out proudly," and this one is Meatball the First. The dog," he finished, smirking at his brother who was trying to compare his likeness to the dog.

"You can see the family likeness," James Jr joked, "you've got the same shaggy hair and you're probably just as noisy!" Meatball kicked him. "Ok, ok! This is a knuckleduster, by the look of it." James was their family fighting expert, being notorious in his school for starting them with other troublemakers. "I think it was made in 2005 or 6. Looks like a reasonably old model. Seen quite a bit of action by the blood on it!"

"And this is looks like a list of Dad's old friends," Hannah butted in, "and the names match those on the back of the photo. How about we phone them up and get them to sort Dad out?" There was a lot of humming and hah-ing. Gwen rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

"That's not a bad idea, but how do we know whether they're still talking to him? They might not want anything to do with him." Jo nodded in agreement.

"Maybe we should ask him first?"

"What, and be hanged, drawn and quartered for looking at everything?" Meatball said incredulously. "You have got to be joking!"

At that, the door slammed open and their father thundered in, not looking unlike an angry bull.

"How DARE you look in my box!"

Chapter 2 is here! Hope you enjoyed it! In case you hadn't picked it up, Meatball is called Meatball because of his resemblance to Meatball the Third (The original Meatball's grandson/dog/pup/whatever you want to call it) mainly because his hair is like the dog's fur and he was found curled up in Meatball III's basket when he was a toddler. Thanks to the anonymous reviewers who brought this up, as well as FreakyBookReader. Please review – it makes my day. Also, sorry for not updating sooner - life's been chaotic

-wolfergirl

Today's Bible Verse: "Nevertheless, God's solid foundation stands firm, sealed with this inscription: 'The Lord knows those who are His, and everyone who confesses the name of the Lord must turn away from wickedness.'" (2 Timothy 2:19)