Constance nervously wrung her wrists, twiddling her thumbs and biting her bottom lip. She shouldn’t be panicking. She had every qualification for this job, she had worked as a maid before, and a nanny wasn’t much different, was it?

She knew how to handle children; after all, she had one of her own. Her only son, a darling boy. Charming in his own whimsical kind of way, but Constance supposed she had to think of him as remarkable. It was her job as the loving parent. Ever since she had realized that, on the low funds her distant aunt was sending, they did not have enough money to keep that lovely little cottage on Applewhite Street, she promptly had to abandon all hope of eventually owning the home and take to the streets.

Her son took it in stride, of course, all sullen eyes and somber smiles. What more did the poor boy have to give? What with his pale blonde hair and dark blue eyes, he made a wonderful trophy son. It was such a shame he was never given a chance to be someone.

And now, Constance sat with three other women in the living room of the Shackleford’s, a rather wealthy family that was holding interviews for a live-in nanny. Exuberant at the idea of having a home for herself and her son-complete with working for a respectable family at a reasonable salary-Constance had immediately taken to the idea and was now smiling gently at the Missus of the home. Tucking a strand of blonde hair-one that looked just as tired as the poor woman-behind her ear, she listened intently to what the Missus was explaining.

"I have three children, all rambunctious teenagers. They’re quite troublesome, and I need a good maid as well as a kind-yet disciplinal-nanny to help me run this household. The Doctor and I are gone quite often, and the children’s pitiful attempts to hide the fact that they threw a party do not go unnoticed by us. We need a woman, firm of purpose, soul, and mind, to keep them in line. Explain to me, why you are perfect for the job."

Directing her gaze at the first woman, she began to ask a series of questions until she had finished with the first two women, and had reached Constance.

"Name, please?" The woman’s voice was just as harsh as the colors of her bright sweater-not necessarily cruel, just shrill to the ears, and hard on the eyes.

"Constance Ethner." She was soft-spoken, and more precise in her tone than the other woman.

"Qualifications?" The obtrusive woman’s voice was making Constance’s ears hurt, but she dared not be rude.

"Well," Constance began, "I have worked as a maid before, and..." The Missus made a 'Hmm.' sound, and quickly scribbled a note down on the clipboard she was holding. "But, I suppose the most important reason of all is, I know how to handle children-teenagers, at that."

"Oh, and how is that so?" the wealthy woman asked, crossing her legs and clasping her hands together.

Constance smiled, "I have a child of my own, a teenage boy. Did you say you had one too?" The other woman seemed to light up at this comment, and nodded joyously, "Oh, yes! Describe him, if you please."

Taking this as a good sign, Constance went to on to say, "Bright, albeit a little shy. Light blonde hair, and the darkest blue eyes."

"Sounds like a doll, compared to my Adair." Mrs. Shackleford look up at a door slamming, and remarked, "Speak of the devil...Adair, sweetheart, come here!"

The two other applicants gave Constance envious glares, as she smiled once again at the Missus and nodded.

Mrs. Shackleford stood up and placed her hand upon the glowering teenager's shoulder. "Ladies, meet the prince of the family, Adair."

Said 'Prince' turned his head to scowl at his mother, and cried indignantly, "Mother!" The boy's face soon matched colors with his head of fiery hair, and he tore away from his mother's grasp. "Don't call me that!"

Mrs. Shackleford chuckled and remarked to her son, "Okay, okay, run along then." Adair retreated from the living room, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the three applicants as he did so.

"And that was him being polite." Mrs. Shackleford said casually to the three ladies, as she took a seat in a rather expensive looking chair made of oak and lavender colored material.

As the Missus chatted with the first applicant once more, Constance took this moment to study her surroundings. A large fireplace, lined with gray and white speckled marble, was located on the far end of the spacious room, a fire roaring in its hearth, despite the warm weather outside. A sofa and two chairs were situated in a square like shape in the middle of the room, the sofa being what the two other applicants and she sat on. A doily plagued coffee table sat in between them and the Missus, adorned with priceless china and other assorted shiny trinkets that were mainly there just for show.

An elderly woman soon entered the room, a pale blue maid uniform on her frail form. A headpiece in her gray hair, she moved with grace to the center of the room, a tray balancing on her hands. Mrs. Shackleford jumped up to take the tray from her, all the while saying, "This is Abigail, everyone. Seeing as how she shall be retiring tomorrow, we are in dire need of a nanny at the moment. These past few years, she just hasn't been able to handle the children."

Abigail set to work on pouring tea for each lady present, offering buttered biscuits in a basket as well. After graciously accepting one, and washing it down with a cup of tea, Constance was sure the odds of her getting the job were fairing well.

Setting down her cup, and dismissing Abigail from the room, Mrs. Shackleford stood up and announced, "I've made my decision."

---

Ivan rested his head against the cool of the car's window, blurring his vision and nearly drifting off to sleep. Opening his eyes, and scuffling his feet across the ratty carpet of his mother's old car, he tapped his fingers impatiently against the leather of the steering wheel. He felt the urge to apply pressure to the stupid thing, alert his mother of the fact that he was still here, alive and breathing. Leaning his head back against the headrest, he glowered at a cloud that was lingering in the monochrome sky.

Ever since the money had stopped coming, the two had to abruptly move out of their old home to escape a lawsuit. Their landlords must have been quite confused, what with them disappearing the middle of the night like that. Now, here they were, a few days later, living in their beat up car and surviving on what leftover cash they had. Knowing it'd soon run out, his mother had wisely checked the wanted ads and found one for a family needing a nanny. A live-in nanny. And that spelled good news for them.

At this very moment in time, his mother was sitting pretty in the huge mansion across the street, while Ivan suffered in the heat of the cramped car. A terrible smell wafted up from the floorboards, and without the key-mommy dearest had taken it with her-he couldn't roll down the windows. Fiddling with a tear in the seat's leather, Ivan was suddenly pulled out of his musings by a bright flash of red walking down the sidewalk.

Lo and behold, this splotch had a body attached to it. Headphones, rather big ones at that covered the teenager's ears, and the navy blue jacket he was wearing matched nicely with his hair. The boy looked up to see the battered car, and gained an expression of disgust. 'Oh...' Ivan realized, 'He's a rich-y.'

Point reinforced by the fact that the boy turned into the walkway leading up to the glorious white mansion his mother was currently in, Ivan nodded to himself and sat back again, eyes closing and mind wandering once more.

A few minutes passed without distraction before "...van!"

He didn't really notice it at first, as the voice was so faint. But when a louder cry of "IVAN!" came and the car's door was jerked open, he didn't even have time to realize what was happening at all. A woman's arms were thrown around him, and he was nearly dragged out of the car. "Ivan, I got the job! I got the job!"

Meanwhile, Ivan was having trouble breathing. "Mom-d-don't have a conniption fit...let goooh..." Constance released her death-hold on her son and stepped back, still smiling triumphantly. "I did it, Ivan! We're going to have a place to live, now!"

"That's great, Mom. When do we move in?" Ivan questioned, his breath rate back to normal.

"Today! Right now, actually. C'mon, Mrs. Shackleford is going to introduce us to her children and show me what duties I'll have to fulfill. She'll fill us in on the details once we're settled." Constance smiled brilliantly, a great feeling of europhia washing over her. For once, something was going right.

Ivan smirked to himself as he picked himself up out of the seat and walked beside his mother, heading in the direction of the large house. Maybe living here wouldn't be that bad. After all, if that cute boy lived here...

Wait, cute?

AN: XD Yes, it will get rather slashy later. Next chapter, we meet the Shackleford children, and Ivan discovers...something. :) R&R! I return the favor!