Disclaimer: I do not own the Young Ones

Oh god, I had to write this. I've been completely obsessed with the Young Ones, especially since I just got some DVDs for my birthday. Story is rated T for language and sex-related things. Yes, there is an OC pairing, but I've got her all planned out. I couldn't resist!


It was a typical morning in the house of the Young Ones.

"Neil! Hurry up and finish making breakfast!" shrieked Rick, hands on his hips as a flustered Neil scurried about the kitchen, "Honestly, is it so much to ask, to eat something other then lentils once in a while?"

"Oh, Rick, please stop hassling me, it's getting really heavy!" moaned Neil, finally finding the long-buried packet of Cornflakes behind a teetering stack of chipped crockery (nobody would make the mistake of calling it 'china'.)

Michael was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper, utterly at ease in comparison to the mad surroundings he tended to find himself in. Rick sat down with an indignant 'thump', as Neil hastily plonked down a bowl of cereal, no milk. Rick grumpily moved to eat, then promptly knocked a spoon off the table, then landed with a clatter on the floor.

"Ow," said a voice from under the table.

"Oh, I'm sowwy about that" Rick mumbled absently, bending down to retrieve the spoon. Then he sort of froze.

A girl was sitting under the table. She glanced down at the spoon and handed it to Rick, holding a bowl of cereal with her other hand. She blinked, and Rick noticed she had glittery green eye-shadow smeared across her eyelids and was dressed quite oddly. Not that somebody who wore the same jacket over and over again could really talk much about fashion. She raised her eyebrows slightly as he continued to stare.

"...Thank you," Rick said, in a distracted manner, too shocked to do anything else.

The girl nodded slowly, then returned to picking at the bowl of cereal cradled in her lap. Rick sat back up, slightly stunned.

"Mike," he said in one of his loudest voices without actually shouting, rapidly pointing at the table top, "Did you know that there is a girl under the table?"

"Yes, Rick," replied Michael nonchalantly, turning the pages of his newspaper, "She's been here since last night,"

If Rick or Neil found it unusual that Mike had not claimed this particular girl to have been in his bed, neither of them paid it any heed.

"WHAT!" screeched Rick, leaping dramatically up from the table, "Why wasn't I told about this?!"

"Well, Rick, you were unconscious for most of last night," piped up Neil helpfully.

"Oh, was I?" crowed Rick, with a sort of triumphant giggle, "Well, what can I say, I just don't know when to stop dwinking! Quite the party animal, I am! Anarchy and all that!"

"No, Rick, you were unconscious because Vyvyan knocked you out with that beer glass and then him and Neil stuffed you in the coat room so you wouldn't take up space," Mike told him, "Vyv stayed at the pub longer then we all did."

"Oh," supplied Rick, his hands sliding off his hips. Then he suddenly recovered and said, "That still doesn't explain what she's doing here!"

"Hiding from Vyvyan," explained Neil. The girl snorted loudly from beneath the table. Mike turned the page of his newspaper calmly as he said,

"Yeah, Rick, the convenient flashback should explain everything,"

Everyone then begin to wiggle around unconvincingly as the screen blurred to several hours earlier…

Several hours earlier…

"Hurry up, guys, hurry up!" Mike called up the stairs, hearing various crashing sounds coming from Rick's bedroom, "The girls are going to be upset if I'm much later. I can't disappoint that many people at once."

Upstairs, however, Rick had more pressing matters to deal with then Mike's fictitious sexual prowess.

"VYVYAN! YOU BASTARD!" he screamed, desperately trying to beat out a fire that the punk had started, "How dare you set fire to my dungarees! What am I supposed to wear to the pub now?"

"Something not puffy!" replied Vyvyan, watching with mild interest as Rick continued to fruitlessly beat at his beloved clothing, "How d'you expect us to get any girls with you wearing a banana skin?"

"Oh yes! And what about Neil!" yelled Rick, finally managing to squash the fire out and now rounding to face Vyvyan, hands on hips, "I don't see you burning any of his filthy clothes!"

"Neil's clothes are too soggy to burn, Rick!" retorted Vyvyan in his typical screech, rolling his eyes.

"Will you guys stop shouting!" called Neil mournfully, his idea of 'getting ready' being to wash the first layer of dirt from his face, "It's really heavy! Mike and me have been waiting for you two for ages!"


Eventually, after a quick change of clothes, a couple of beatings, dished out by Vyvyan and a brief scramble over the keys, the boys were finally ready to leave the house. Luckily, Mike had anticipated that there might be some sort of delay, so he had cunningly announced they were leaving for the pub an hour before their original time, giving him plenty of time to spruce up while his associates ate up the extra hour.

"Back in a bit, boys," Mike said, flashing a smile at a gaggle of girls over by the bar, who had glanced over as all of them walked in, "I have work to do."

And off he went.

"Oh, oh, I see!" Rick shouted after Mike, sitting down at the nearest table, "Just abandon us, Mike, that's fi- Where are you two going?!"

"What?" Vyvyan asked calmly as he and Neil went off to follow Mike, "You didn't think we'd sit here talking to you, snotty?"

"Actually, I just want to go to the toilet," Neil announced, pointing, whilst Vyvyan made a beeline for the bar.

"Oh, shut up Neil!" shouted Rick, not getting up from his seat out of sheer belligerence then anything else, "Are you going to tell us whenever you need to go to the toilet? None of us want to hear about you and your dirty habits, you filthy hippie!"

"Oh, come on Rick, everyone has to go to the toilet sometimes," complained Neil, unable to stand it anymore, "I've gotta go now!"

"God!" Rick complained loudly to one of the omnipresent cameras, "What a fascist!"

Nobody paid him any attention.

Mike was happily chatting up an auburn-haired girl in a mini-skirt, although anybody looking at them would say that she was only talking to him until someone better came along. Indeed, the five or so girls were all wearing expressions of polite interest, except one of them, a brunette girl who was standing a little further away from the others, wearing an annoyed expression.

"And so I said, 'Darlin', I think you'll find we will need all those condoms'," finished up Mike, and a few girls giggled at his punch line.

The only girl who didn't giggle rolled her eyes, shooting a venomous look at the girls near her. Just then, Vyvyan came marching up to the bar. The brunette stared at him for a second.

"I'll have a Babysham, please," Vyvyan said, putting strange emphasis on the last word as though he wasn't used to saying it. The girl seized her chance.

"Hi," the girl said to Vyvyan suddenly, turning her back firmly on the girls behind her, their attention distracted by Mike, "I'm Evelyn,"

"Vyvyan," replied Vyvyan, collecting his Babysham.

There was an awkward pause.

"So...want a drink?" Vyvyan managed, unable to think of anything else to say.

"You've just ordered a Babysham," Evelyn pointed out.

Vyvyan looked at his Babysham in a considering way, then down it all in one go. He set it back down on the bar, wobbling slightly at the movement.

"How about now?"

Evelyn grinned mischievously.


One Hour Later…"Well, I think it's been a successful night," Mike said smugly to Neil, a telltale lipstick smear on his cheek, as they headed for the exit. Then he stopped and looked around, "Although come to mention it, where's Rick and Vyvyan?"

"Um, Rick's unconscious over there," Neil said, pointing, "And Vyvyan's slowly ensuring that his kidney fails him in mid age. I did try to warn him about that, but he wouldn't listen…"

"Alright, alright," said Mike, not really wishing to listen to an ego-rant from Neil, not now or indeed any other time, "Let's get him before he smashes something valuable."

"I bet you, right," said Vyvyan, who was by now so drunk he could hardly sit on his chair properly without swaying dangerously on it, "I bet you fifty quid, that I could smash this glass in my face and be tota'ly fine by nex' schene."

"Wha'?" giggled Evelyn, who was in a similar state to Vyvyan, "Whaya mean, next schene? You're drunk."

"Watch this!" enthused Vyvyan, picking up his own empty glass and holding it above his head, "One…two…um…"

He stopped for a second, his eyes not focusing straight away.

"What comes afta two, 'gain?"

Evelyn laughed drunkenly, accidentally spilling some of her cocktail on the already vaguely sticky bar. "Whoopsh!"

"Hey, Vyv!" said Mike, as Vyvyan was still struggling to remember the number three, "We're going. Come on,"

"Nah," said Vyvyan, shaking his head, "Go on. I'll ketchup."

"Alright, but Vyvyan, just remember, if you smash something, don't tell the owner your real address," Mike said to Vyvyan, clapping him companionably on the back, "And it's three you're thinking of. Three."

"I knew it was somethin' like tha'!" shouted Vyvyan triumphantly, "Thanks, Mike!"

"No problem, Vyv," replied Mike smoothly, glancing at Evelyn, who was fishing around the bottom of her glass, apparently trying to get out one of the ice-cubes.

As him and Neil turned and headed for the exit, Neil suddenly started.

"Oh, Mike, Mike!" he said anxiously.

"What is it, Neil?"

"How exactly are we going to get Rick home?"

Mike looked at him.

"It's very simple, Neil," he explained patiently, "You're going to have to carry him."

"Oh," supplied Neil. "Heavy…"

"Wow, that really was convenient!" Neil commented, blinking a little.

"Urgh!" shouted Rick, pulling a hideous face, "How disgusting! You'd better not have been carrying me anywhere, Neil, you revolting little puke face!"

"Oh, no, it was okay, Rick," replied Neil, "We found an empty wheelie bin, so you just went in there."

Mike had to fight very hard not to smirk.

"Actually, where is Vyvyan, anyway?" Rick suddenly added, frowning, temporarily forgetting about the fact he had been treated like, well, a bag of rubbish.


"Oh, hello, Vyv," greeted Mike, calmly, as Vyvyan came sauntering into the room, having just booted the door down, "We were wondering where you'd got to,"

"We ran out of Vodka," grunted Vyvyan, holding up a bottle of the stuff as though to prove it.

"Oh, yes, that's very considewate of you, Vyvyan!" shouted Rick, "Just smash the door down, instead of opening it like a normal member of society!"

Vyvyan replied to this by head-butting Rick, knocking the sociology student to the floor. Then he turned his attention to the kitchen, tipping his head to one side.

"Evelyn, why are you hiding under the table?" Vyvyan inquired.

"I wasn't!" replied Evelyn, unconvincingly, "I, um, dropped my...eyeliner."

"You were already wearing eyeliner, though." Neil pointed out, intelligently.

"Exactly!" Evelyn said with finality, thoroughly confusing Neil as she crawled out from under the table and stood up, leaving her cereal bowl behind.

"Wait, wait, wait!" shouted Rick, stamping his feet and generally doing as much as possible to attract attention to himself. Everyone glanced over, duly interested, "That still does not explain why she's still here, except for the fact Vyvyan is now appawently some sort of kidnapper!"

"Because every time I try to leave, Vyvyan barricades the door," replied Evelyn, now rounding on Vyvyan with a glittery glare, "He even stayed up all night just to do that!"

"You owe me £50!" screeched Vyvyan, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world, "Where is it?"

"I do not owe you £50!" Evelyn shrieked back, hands on her hips. Neil, wincing, dug his little finger in his ear, "You just tried to bet me yourself! I never agreed to it! And anyway, what are you going to do? You can't stay awake forever."

Vyvyan thought about this for a moment, then he suddenly pointed at her,

"Yeah, well! We go to the same uni! I'd run into you eventually, even if you did leave!"

Evelyn stared at him for a minute. Then she folded her arms, cocking her head to one side as though thinking about something. Then she abruptly said,

"Well, what about clothes?"

"What?" chorused Vyvyan, Rick and Neil at once, taken aback by this sudden change in the conversation.

"If I'm going to be living here," Evelyn continued, apparently choosing to ignore the collective expression of disbelief, "Then what about all my things? I'll need to go get that. And I need somewhere to sleep. Last night I kipped on the sofa and woke up with springs embedded in my back."

"It's not my fault, this sofa has inadequate stuffing!" commented one of the springs, which went completely unnoticed.

"You mean you actually want to move in?" Rick asked, bewildered at how easily that had happened.

"Shut up, Rick," Mike calmly commanded, seizing control of the situation, "Surely you're not going to complain that a girl wants to live here?"

"No, but-but, well…why?" spluttered Rick, actually saying something sensible for a change. Everyone glanced back at Evelyn, who looked decidedly shifty.

"Um." She articulated, "Well. You see, that is to say…I'm in a bit of an, um…. Situation. And, uh-"

"Spit it out!" shouted Vyvyan.

"Well, the face of the matter is, I've kind of had a row with my flatmates. A big row. And they sort of, um, threw me out of the house, actually. So, last night, in the pub…I was thinking I might be able to find some other girls to live with for a while until, you know… I could get myself sorted out."

"Well, then, I see no problem with that!" said Mike, rubbing his hands together in a business-like way. "We can get you sorted out for those, no problem!"

"I can go pick up my old clothes from the old house," Evelyn said, then added darkly "Assuming those bitches haven't thrown all of them out too."

"Well, one of us will have to come with you," said Michael, standing up, "And it looks like it'll be me,"

"Good idea!" agreed Vyvyan, getting up off the sofa too, "Make sure she doesn't do a runner anyway!"

"For the last time, I am not giving you £50! I wouldn't even if I could afford it!" Evelyn yelled, exasperated.

"And anyway, that's not why I'm going along," Mike explained patiently, "I'm going to check out these flatmates of Evelyn's."

"I don't think you're their type," replied Evelyn coldly, apparently unimpressed with the idea of anyone flirting with her ex-roommates, as she pushed open the door.

"Oh yeah? What's their type, then?" inquired Rick.

Evelyn tilted her head to one side, thinking,


"Hurry it up, will you, Rick?" called Mike impatiently from the threshold of the house, "I don't wish to suggest you're taking a long time, but the pyramids were built considerably more quickly then it's taking you are to move that suitcase."

"Well, why am I being made to cawwy it anyway?" shouted Rick, trying and again failing to lift the suitcase, "Considewing Vyvyan's the one who started all this anyway!"

"Shut up!" shouted Vyvyan, stomping down the garden path and punching Rick in the face. Rick toppled dramatically over onto the ground, groaning quietly to himself.

Vyvyan then picked up the suitcase as though it were a bag of feathers and went back off into the house. He waited for Rick to sit up, then as Rick came bolting up the garden path, closed the door, listening with satisfaction as Rick yelped, "Vyvyan! You bastard!" from the other side, scrabbling at the door like a small dog wanting to go for a walk.

"Ah, brilliant!" said Evelyn, unzipping her suitcase and pulling out several bags of crisps, "I'm starving!"

There was a general scuffle at that point, as Evelyn threw bags of crisps to Vyvyan, Neil and Mike, and they all immediately began trying to swap for their favourite flavour. Rick, now that Vyvyan had been distracted by junk food, came bursting through the door, nearly falling over, as he had pushed against it as hard as he could.

"Vyvyan!" panted Rick from the floor, "You utter bas- Are those crisps?"

"Yeah," Evelyn said, throwing some at his head, "Here."

"Eeuurgh, cheese and onion," whined Rick, biting into one, "Now my bweath will smell!"

"You smell anyway," replied Vyvyan, nicking Rick's packet, having already wolfed down his own. Rick attempted to pinch Vyvyan's arm and was rewarded by a punch in the face.

"Well, I suppose now the only thing to sort out is which room I'm going to stay in," Evelyn announced, glancing at the clock to find it was now fairly late on in the day.

"Since my room has the double-bed, I should say the choice is fairly obvious..." began Mike.

"In your dreams, Shorty," retorted Evelyn.

"Fair enough."

"You'll just have to share with Neil, then,"

Rick pounced on this immediately.

"Why Neil?" he demanded, "What makes Neil's woom the most suitable?"

"Because his is the only one with a spare bed," replied Mike.

"Does it?" asked Neil in wonderment, "I've never seen it!"

"No, that's because you've been sleeping on it, Neil," explained Mike, patiently, "You can sleep on the sofa tonight."

"What? But Mike-"

"Oh, do stop moaning, Neil!" shouted Rick, "You're an insomniac anyway, aren't you, since you're a stupid hippie and think sleep gives you cancer!"

"Oh, all right," lamented Neil, "I've heard there's a Scooby Doo Marathon on telly anyway."

"That's typical of you, Neil!" said Rick, determined that somebody pay him attention, "Waste the electricity bill, just because you have a sleep disorder! God, fascist."

Vyvyan grabbed Rick's collar, mouth still bulging with crisps. He chewed rapidly, swallowed and then said, with eery calm,


"Yes, Vyvyan?"

"Shut up, or I'll kill you."

Yes, with the exception of a girl who wore way too much glitter, it was an ordinary day for the Young Ones.

It could only get weirder from there...

And that's the first chapter done! Stay tuned for more!

Until then, reviews would be love-er-ly. :)