A/N: Okay, okay. I admit, I always said that EVEN THOUGH I wrote OC fiction, I would never post it. Well, I lied, okay? Besides, it seems like the Animorphs community likes them well enough, right? So just call me a hypocrite and we'll get on with it.

Disclaimer: The only reason I can write and post this is because K.A. Applegate is a nice person and is willing to share. I make no money from this. I own the storyline and I own Shane. That's it.

Shane woke gradually, in no hurry to get up and around. He noticed with unconcerned interest that the low ceiling above him, which should have been the not-quite-even purple of his room, was a pale Easter-egg yellow. His next focus was the flat black sleeping bag he was tangled in, so different from the blue and green-striped sheets. His headrest was his worn brown-leather jacket, not the off-white pillowcase with a really bad coffee stain on the side.

Not his room. Not his bed. And above all, not his aunt yelling up the stairs for him to start cleaning the kitchen. No aunt at all, in fact. And no stairs either.

Shane thought about this lazily, staring up at the ceiling. There was a water stain in the corner, and someone had managed to get green paint on the light. What had happened?

Oh yeah. The move.

He wasn't in Kansas anymore.

As he sat up, a few boxes scattered around the corners of the room presented themselves. He could see out of the doorway a little, old, scratched up table settled into a corner. One of the chairs around it held his black backpack, the indestructible canvas sack he'd had since the first day of kindergarten.

He got up slowly and wondered if he had remembered to stick a spare set of clothes in it. Shane reflected on it, and decided it was a doubtful possibility. So, either he stayed home in his blue and red checkered boxers (on a Saturday, mind you), or he actually attempted unpacking at least long enough to find a t-shirt and a pair of jeans that didn't smell noticeably.

But, before any of that took place, breakfast.

A few grocery bags and the little fridge held the bounty of food he had collected at the gas station last night: bread, eggs, jelly, turkey, mayo, vegetable oil, a box of brownie mix. A true feast.

He didn't have a toaster yet, but good ol' Auntie Posey had a spare set of saucepans and various other kitchen utensils that she handed over grudgingly, so he turned up the stove and set a pan on it, cracking an egg onto a plastic plate.

He scrambled it with one hand as he watched the empty neighborhood outside his window yawn and stretch.

The place he had was a little box sitting squat in the middle of a family neighborhood, just out of town. In fact, the only thing he saw between here and town was an old construction site that looked as if it hadn't been touched in ages.

The teen scratched his head absently and poured the liquid egg into the sizzling pan, scraping it around a little before leaving it to fry. Outside his window, a hawk had landed in his one lonely tree and was looking around hungrily. He watched it for a while, than realized his egg was close to burning and hurriedly scooped it out with his fingers.

It went straight onto a couple slices of bread drowned in generic brand blackberry jelly. Yum. He ate it slowly as he opened boxes, not really caring as the jelly dripped onto the cardboard.

Eventually, one box yielded clothes, and he pulled out a t-shirt and pair of ripped, faded, worn jeans.

"I don't remember this." He said through a mouthful of egg, examining the shirt.

It was bright red, with a smiley-faced flower on the front. The text under it red 'Building a kindergarten.'

"Oh, geez. I didn't even know I still had this. I thought Gracie ate it." He muttered. It was his kindergarten choir shirt, second year.

He pulled it and the jeans on, marveling at the fact it still fit. He was a pudgy six-year old, so though it was tight, the fabric was soft and fit well.

Now fed and fully-clothed, his debate was what he wanted to do today. He could unpack, and actually do some work. Or he could walk around the neighborhood and scare little kids. Or he could go find his school so he wasn't driving around trying to find a bus to follow two minutes before the bell rang.

That last one sounded like a good idea.

"Settled then. Time to check out the town." He said to himself, heading for the door. The little table next to it held a pin-striped hat and a set of keys. He grabbed both, slamming the door behind him.

The pickup truck, his lone means of transportation, was a pale blue colour, accented by a hood that was lime green. The front bumper had learned the wonders of camouflage duct tape, and the seats were filled with more gum wrappers than stuffing, but it ran well, and even more, it had character. Lots of it.

The only problem was that the gas gauge was broken, so he was forever on the verge of running out of gas without knowing it. He had met his last girlfriend that way; stranded on the side of the road, she picked him up and gave him a ride to the nearest gas station. It was love. Well, at least, he had thought it was. She hadn't after meeting John.

But that was a different story.

Shane pulled himself into the cab and started the truck. The radio turned itself on, and some twangy country song blared from the speaker. It was the most decent station he'd been able to find. He hadn't minded until the Dixie Chicks special started.

In the tree, the hawk was still sitting, watching him with interest.

"What's up, bird? Scouting out the local rat population?" he asked it. It ruffled its feathers and stared at him.

"Hey, hey, take it easy. You're welcome to any four legged creatures you see anyway." He added, pulling his door shut.

But the hawk wasn't listening anymore. It was staring at the neighbor's bush with single-minded intensity. Shane shrugged and pulled out of his driveway.

He passed a few people on the side of the road, walking or jogging. They all waved, and he waved back, feeling a little self-conscious. No one back in the city was friendly to a stranger; why waste the energy? But he couldn't help but return the gesture; they all seemed so happy, and it was kind of infectious.

He noted as he drove a McDonald's to his left; fast food joints were always handy. A little ways down the road was a convenience store.

He turned off onto another road and passed an elementary school. Another turn found him the high school next to the junior high.

"Food, check. Gas, check. Place of higher education, check." He said aloud as he made an illegal U-turn and went back the way he came.

A teen that looked about Shane's age was standing on the side of the road, waving cheerily to anyone who passed. She had an armful of fliers, and a sign stuck in the ground next to her read 'The Sharing: Learn More!"

He slowed down and stopped alongside of her, leaning out the window. She grinned and tossed her blonde hair over one shoulder, looking relieved.

"Finally." She sighed. "No one's stopped all day."

He smiled and tipped his hat to her.

"Glad to be of service. So what's that you're handing out?" he asked, giving her a wink. She passed him a flier awkwardly, nodding to the sign.

"I'm part of a club known as The Sharing, and we're on the hunt to recruit more members," she explained as he studied the flier.

"It's open every day after school until eight, and on Saturdays from six to midnight. The aim of the club is to familiarize the members with each other and build a stronger community. Basically, you hang out and talk to each other, shoot some pool, listen to music, that kind of stuff. They have parties pretty often too. Best of all, it's free of charge, so you can come as often or as little as you like. What do you think?" she asked him hopefully. He looked up at her.

"Will you be there?" She giggled, covering her mouth with one hand.

"Oh, I'm there all the time. I'll even be there this Monday, if you want to swing by and run a trial course."

"Great. It's a date." She backed up and he drove off slowly, giving her a flirty wave.

Score one for the new guy.

Ze other A/N: So, what do ya'll think? I know it was a little slow; it tends to throw a lot of people off a story, so I'll post the next chapter today too. Should be a little more actionous. Oh, and for the record: yes, this story will eventually contain some slash. What exactly the slash will be, I'm not sure. Right now, I'm leaning towards one pairing, but we'll get a little farther into the story and then I'll ask you what you think, eh?

Questions, comments, critiques? Feel free to click that button down there and tell me what's up.