A/N: Hi folks! This is my first fic for WR, hopefully the first of ten, written in a style that hopefully resembles the show. I'm planning a ten-part 'alternative season nine' focusing mainly but not exclusively on the Mulgrews. Dynasty and Kevin will also have their fair share. Shipwise, this will be C/I, D/K, but probably no romantic interest for Christine at this point—I think she's got her hands full as it is! Oh, and I've made this an autumn term. I know it's probably supposed to take place in the summer term, but that seems unlikely for several reasons:

1. It's clearly freezing. You can see people's breath when they talk outside. I know Scotland is cold, but Greenock isn't THAT cold.

2. The mention of Scout having started her teacher training; that implies that this is a new academic year, even if it's still S8.

3. Liberty's interview: while it's a bit early in the UCAS cycle, it's not impossible for her to have an interview around October/November—although I doubt it's as late as that.

Anyhow, this is fanfic so I'm calling it an autumn term. I also use 'headmistress' rather than 'headteacher'— unless 'headteacher' is most appropriate—but that's personal preference.

A couple of things for you to know: I am deaf with a small d, which means that I'm primarily oral and use hearing aids, just as Imogen does. Therefore you may be sure that anything I write relating to Imogen's deafness is authentic. Secondly, I trained as a teacher. That'll influence how I write, inevitably, so there'll be at least as much Christine/staff-centric stuff as there is C/I etc. Concrit, feedback and general cheering :D always welcome, and any ideas you may have are also very welcome! So… read and enjoy…!

Episode blurb: It's Christine's second day as Headmistress of Waterloo Road, and it starts badly when the new deputy is openly hostile during staff briefing. Then a minor bump on the head has potentially devastating consequences for Imogen, Tom returns from the hospital with tragic news of Budgen, and Christine discovers Michael's final betrayal…

7.00 am, Mulgrew Home

Imogen Stewart—now Mulgrew, although that was still being kept under wraps for the moment—gave a muffled growl of frustration when she knocked a hearing aid off the window sill in the Mulgrew bathroom. She'd always been scolded for bringing her aids into the bathroom, given the dangers of water to circuitry, but old habits died hard. Fortunately, the aid had not gone into the toilet (Imogen did not like the prospect of explaining that to either her mother or her mother-in-law, particularly when the latter was also her headmistress); unfortunately, she failed to take note of where the solid ceramic toilet paper holder was, and gave her head a not inconsiderable crack as she straightened, more than a little dizzy, with the escapee hearing aid in hand.

'Well done, Imogen,' she muttered to herself as she twisted the hearing aid into her ear with an expert turn of her fingers and switched it on. The combination of angry hearing aid squeal and the sudden loudness of her own voice made her wince. 'Really well done, girl.'

Ruefully, she bent forward to examine her Celtic-fair pale skin in the rapidly clearing bathroom mirror, and grimaced at the sight of the ugly red mark on her temple. On anyone else such a relatively light blow would not show, but Imogen's fine skin had always bruised easily. She pulled a couple of strands of dark hair over her forehead, settled her headband, took a deep breath, and vacated the bathroom slowly in time to the pounding in her head. It was only a minor bump; it'd hurt for a while and then she'd be fine. Just fine.

7.30, Mulgrew Home

'Connor! Imogen!' Christine Mulgrew's voice carried easily through her home, imbued with the force and authority granted her by more than fifteen years in the classroom. She was rewarded by the instant sound of clattering and voices, and her son and daughter-in-law appeared before her, looking unconscionably bright and cheery for this dark hour of an October morning.

Christine's lips twitched despite her own general disapproval of the time; left to her own devices she would have slept for another hour or two, but a headteacher must be an early bird even when it goes against the grain.

'I don't know what you two are looking so happy about,' she told them tartly as she prepared to lead them from the house. 'Today isn't going to be plain sailing, you know. Imogen—' She turned to face her daughter-in-law. 'Are you sure you want to do this? No-one's making you.'

'Of course she does,' Connor put in, taking his wife's hand, and the two exchanged a look.

Christine rolled her eyes. 'Yes, thank you, Connor, but I was talking to Imogen. Well?'

The girl beamed, her large eyes glowing with happiness. 'He's right, Mrs Mulgrew. Um, Christine,' she corrected sheepishly. 'I really do want to do this. I never liked my dad, and I love Connor… Please, I'd rather be a Mulgrew than a Stewart!'

Christine looked from one teenager to the other, and for a moment she found herself envying their utter togetherness, the tangibility of their connection. She'd never had that, not really. Perhaps with Joe, if it wasn't for his father— She straightened her shoulders and refused to let her mind follow that path. She knew where it would lead, they all did. Today was not about the past; it was about the future. A new beginning for them all—for Imogen, as Imogen Mulgrew, for herself, as 'Christine Mulgrew, Headmistress' and for Waterloo Road itself.

She nodded. 'All right then. If you're sure.' She took a deep breath and reached for the snip to unlock the door. 'We're all ready?'

'Waterloo Road won't know what hit it,' Connor assured her. 'You were epic yesterday. Way more epic than Byrne ever was, even if he did pay my debts.' The scorn in the boy's voice made her flinch, but she steeled herself to flash him a smile over her shoulder. Connor grinned. 'Go, Mum!'

'Go, go, go,' Imogen chanted, grinning widely, and Christine shook her head in reluctant amusement.

'H'mm! OK, then, let's move. Waterloo Road, here we come!'

8.15 am, Waterloo Road Staff Room

'Christine did well yesterday,' Audrey McFall announced into a sudden lull of conversation whilst the staff awaited their morning briefing from the Head. 'I don't mind admitting that I was surprised—and very, very proud of her when she pulled it off.'

Nikki Boston, one of the deputy heads, nodded. 'The Sixth are certainly very impressed with her. Even the Barrys—even Barry Barry!' she added with a meaningful quirk of a dark brow. 'I don't think there'll be any more trouble with them for a spell. Michael never managed to get round Carol like that.'

'How did she do it?' someone asked from the kitchenette.

Nikki's quirked lips widened into a smile. 'Told Carol Barry she liked her right hook, from all accounts. Wish I'd thought of that.'

'Well, you had your chance,' Audrey said, eying her over the top of her spectacles. 'Don't begrudge Christine her opportunity. She's going to need all our support.'

'I don't,' Nikki responded. 'We made our peace yesterday. I went to see her with an office-warming present. For whatever good it might do,' she ended with a sigh, and Audrey tilted her head, characteristically birdlike.

'What's wrong?'

The door opened and Christine entered. Nikki grimaced.

'That is what's wrong,' she murmured to the older woman, jerking her head in the direction of the young man who'd followed the new Headmistress into the room. 'He's going to be trouble. I'd put money on it.'

8.30am, Waterloo Road Staff Room

Christine's smile was so wide that it hurt her cheekbones as she gestured for her new deputy head to come forward, looking ridiculously boyish with his shock of wild curls.

'Good morning, everyone,' she began quietly, and the last remnants of chatter faded as her staff turned to face her. 'I've an announcement to make. As you know, we are once again a council school, and that will lead to changes.' She tried to keep the distaste from her voice, and the effort intensified the Scottish burr of her accent. 'Allow me to introduce the first of those changes. Please welcome Simon Lowsley, who has been appointed deputy head.'

There was a half-hearted murmur of welcome before Audrey spoke.

'Deputy head? Do you mean we're going to have three? There's already Tom and Nikki—'

Simon Lowsley chose that moment to speak for himself. 'No, there'll still be two. Myself and Tom Clarkson, who I understand has served as deputy for a while.' There was a moment's stunned silence, but Lowsley continued blithely, as if unaffected by the sudden atmosphere. 'Where is Tom? I haven't met him yet.'

'Uh, Simon—' Awkwardly, Christine brushed a stray hair away from her eyes and turned to look the young man. 'Tom isn't here,' she said, sotto voce. 'He's at the hospital. One of our staff has been very ill with kidney failure and they're old friends, so—'

Simon's jaw hardened. 'I see. I'm sorry about that, but his first duty is to the school. Why haven't you pulled him in, Christine?'

Christine bit her lip and forced another rictus smile. 'Because Tom is planning to donate a kidney to Grantly,' she said. 'He has our full support, Mr Lowsley, please don't doubt that. Grantly has only just woken up after a coma that has lasted for weeks.'

'H'mmm.' Simon did not sound convinced; his eyes were cold. 'I'm starting to see why I was recommended for this post.'

'What?!' Nikki bounded to her feet, her jaw square with fury. 'Who do you think you are, waltzing in here—'

Christine reached over to lay a finger on the other woman's arm, distracting her. 'Leave it, Nikki. I'll deal with it.' It was a relief when Nikki visibly subsided, and Christine prepared to continue with her announcements. 'In other news, then, people. You all know what's happened to Dynasty Barry. It's expected that Steve-O will be called to trial shortly, and she'll need to testify. It's a gruelling thing to expect a girl of seventeen to endure, so keep a close watch on her and Kevin Chalk. We don't want either going off the rails. The same is true for Barry and Kacey, of course, but I'm most concerned with those two.' She paused and her lips twitched. 'The other thing is … um… a little more personal. I'm sure you're all aware that Imogen Stewart and my son have become … close?'

There was a ripple of laughter and Christine felt some of the tension drain from her shoulders. 'Yes, they have been a wee bit obvious, haven't they? Well, they're about to become more obvious still.' She stopped and the staff stared at her, obviously eager to know what she would say.

'Spit it out, Christine,' Audrey advised. 'Whatever it is, it can't be that bad. Unless Imogen's pregnant?' She sounded alarmed, and Christine couldn't blame her. Imogen was one of their best and brightest.

She shook her head. 'Not to my knowledge,' she assured the history teacher. 'Well, she better not be. If she is, I'll kill them!'

Audrey smiled. 'That's a relief. No offense to Connor, but—!'

'They're not,' Christine repeated firmly, making a mental note to give her son and daughter-in-law a stern talking-to on the subject of contraception. 'They are, however … married, and Imogen has decided to use Mulgrew instead of Stewart for the future.'

After a shocked pause a smile rippled around the staff. Some of them knew what Connor and Imogen had endured since they met, and Christine—herself the cause of much of that suffering—was relieved to see there would be no repercussions from that quarter. She relaxed as various staff members bombarded her with good wishes and questions and even the odd barb of teasing, but just as she thought they'd got away with a potentially tricky situation, a low voice whispered in her ear, 'I'd like a word in your office, if we may, Mrs Mulgrew.'

She glanced at her newest deputy, and her heart sank all the way to her toes. There was no friendship in those dark eyes, only implacable dislike.