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How the heck did I get myself into this situation? “Handcuffed” was a good term to define her situation. What was even worse wasn’t that simple fact, but that she had been tricked into it by an eight years old boy. As a babysitter she didn’t really think she was giving a good example by allowing him to get her –somehow- into the bathtub and handcuffing her hands to the faucet. What was she thinking? How could she believe that little hellion would behave after playing his favourite game?

If that was his favourite game –handcuffing babysitters to odd places- then he was growing to be quite the sadomasochistic one.

She rolled her eyes to herself. What was she expecting, really; basically all the county’s babysitters avoided him at all costs, even if he happened to be the little brother of who was considered the most sought after boy in school. Come to think, that was the reason why little Rob was such a sadomasochistic little imp, his big brother was the womanizer of her school after all. It ran in the family.

Agatha, the babysitter in distress, rolled her dark murky eyes to herself as she tried to tug her hands free. The way she saw it she’d have to try to slip her hands out of the handcuffs because they were unbreakable– Just where the hell did that kid get those from, his big bro perhaps? The thought of it made her skin crawl with revulsion. On the other hand she could try to tug as hard as she could but breaking the faucet implied saying good bye to her payment for enduring the brat for almost four hours straight. A record, considering he managed to drive away his sitters in half of the time.

The girl was eying the soap gel with an inquisitive look, wondering if she could get to it with only her feet and pouring it over her hands to help them slip out of the handcuffs –not minding the fact that her feet were supposed to keep her standing as well-, when a series of sounds caught her attention. It seemed as though Rob was raising hell outside or that a series of bombs were going off in the hall. Whatever it was, it surely meant to tell her to forget about salary.

Then, to her utmost dismay the bathroom door opened with a decisive swoosh. Her back shivered, at the same time she thought in panic what horrors had that boy cooked for her. Rustling came from behind the curtain and with every passing second Agatha imagined a worse theory about the torture that awaited her. She felt the boy grow closer until she could make out a blurry shape. Was it to scare her even more? It was working; so much, in fact, that she wasn’t in the least ashamed to be frightened of an eight years old. Her eyes squeezed shut when the curtain was drawn open and a hissing sound alerted her before her skin did that the shower had been opened.

At that her eyes opened, ready to spew out a choice of foul words to the blasted kid, and it was then that she noticed that in front of her wasn’t Rob, but Roy, his older brother, and he was very much naked, unperturbed and cold like a stone.

“Who are you?” He asked, his husky but annoyed voice echoing against the bathroom’s tiled walls.

“Your little brother’s babysitter,” She answered, teeth teetering by the cold that quickly crept up her spine. Her teeth clenched as a measure to stop her from glancing down at the exhibitionist’s body.

“Good,” He stated simply, his handsome and manly face showing more annoyance as the clock ticked. “I thought you were another one of those girls who want to get in my bed no matter what.”

Her outraged gasp rang out around them, “You son of a-” To her astonishment the incredibly shameless guy leaned forward, and she noticed he was tall enough to almost stuff his broad shoulder in her mouth. Truth be told she thought he was going to take advantage of the situation but he was only turning the shower off. Hoping her face wasn’t as red as she thought it to be she finished her phrase, “You son of a gun.”

He ignored her expertly, “You’re so stupid. How could you let a little kid fool you like this?”

His raised eyebrows and condescending stance did her in, and she felt a rage unlike another she had felt during that evening. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

Apparently he wasn’t used to a girl speaking to him in such a manner, or maybe it was the fact that she just cursed –pretty bad for a babysitter, too- but his light cerulean eyes showed a glint of amusement. “Hold on here, not that you can go anywhere,” His eyes shone watching her handcuffed hands. She was wondering how his voice could sound so husky and deep without him being a zombie –or looking like one. Don’t look down-, “I’ll go get the keys.”

There he turned around and stalked towards the door and as he grew further apart she couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of his defined back and butt. She respectfully averted her whole face away, even if he couldn’t see her, and cleared her throat, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?” He turned around to see the girl facing the wall at her side, and the obvious flush in her face brought a smirk to his face.

“Clothes, you dumbass.”

Roy couldn’t help but laugh, although he complied, “I don’t see what’s the problem, this is my house and I have nothing you have never seen,” His big hands picked up his discarded boxers and he glanced at her from under his eyebrows, “Considering you must’ve seen a penis at least in Sex Education class.”

She glared at the wall with heat enough to make it melt, instead of him. The boy’s smirk turned into a grin; he’d like to have that glare turned onto him.

The girl just couldn’t believe the nerve of that guy, no wonder Rob was a sadomasochist, he probably learnt all he knew from his older brother! What a pair or cuckoos, and she had been tricked by the smallest and embarrassed by the oldest of them. She guessed any girl at school would die to be in the situation she found herself in –handcuffed to Roy’s bathroom- but she wasn’t enjoying it very much. Rather, she couldn’t wait to get home and fall asleep, hoping in the morning everything would seem far away like a dream.

Her useless musings where interrupted when the old McGregor boy walked through the door and leisurely approached her, like a feline ready to pounce on his prey. In a way he seemed to be one, his hair was a strange blonde that seemed bleached by the sun, although the lack of tan, replaced by a rosy hue tinting him everywhere, didn’t exactly let him look like a Californian wild cat. Instead he was like a stray mountain cat whose muscles rippled with every move he made to get closer.

He produced the key and with a click later her sore wrists were free from their prison. She couldn’t help the relieved sigh from leaving her lips; however they pursed at the red marks that were taking form in her not too skinny wrists. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” He said with an almost juvenile voice. She raised an eyebrow at him but he was pulling her out of the bathtub with a quick pull. “Come with me.”

Reflexively she snatched her hand back, “Err, why?”

“Don’t tell me,” He turned to her, folding his perfectly muscled arms against a solid chest, “You plan to take care of Rob with a wet white tee?”

Dumbly she looked down to see her baby blue bra perfectly visible through her t-shirt. She covered her chest squeaking.

“Exactly,” There it was again, that rough laughter that made her chest vibrate along. “Just come, I promise I’m not gonna do anything to you, no matter how much I’d want to.”

Well, wasn’t he just flirting? She didn’t really think before speaking, “What the hell is your problem?”

“What? Can’t I be nice?” He opened the door to his room and walked to a series of cabinets without turning back.

But that wasn’t the problem; the problem was that he had been rude and cold at first and now he was being nice. She wasn’t used to guys being nice to her, and she had learnt that most of the times when they were it was because they wanted something out of her, whether it was homework or a phone number. Thus, the change in his attitude was a little disturbing and sudden for her to comprehend. In the end she opted to not answer his question, not to fall to his level in rudeness. Just where was that Rob?

“Here,” Not a second later a warm and dry bundle of fabric hit her in the face. “Change into this or freeze to death, because we don’t have a drying machine. We don’t want my parents seeing you all wet when they come, do we?”

This was a t-shirt big enough to fit her and have fabric to spare on the sides, with the characteristic Iron Maden font in front, and it belonged to Big McGregor no less. Her left eye twitched; should she take it and risk being stabbed to death by his fans when she tried to give it back, or should she freeze over instead? She sighed, deciding to put it on. But something stopped her from changing, and it was the unnervingly penetrating stare of the boy. “What? You can’t possibly think I’m gonna change in front of you!”

The smirk that blossomed caught her off guard. “Aw, fine, I’ll go.” And with a wink he vanished behind the door.

Agatha ran to lock it before changing into the tee, biting her lip and glancing around in nervousness, in case there was a hidden camera or something alike. But his room was as normal as they come, with bands posters and the expected pin-up girls on the ceiling, clothes thrown here and there and a very big but messy bed. She thought it best to go find Rob and leave her strange –a little perverted- ideas locked inside that boy’s room.

“Come to think,” She voiced lowly as she walked down the stairs in search for Little McGregor, “I had never been in a guy’s room, other than Charlie’s but he’s hardly a guy.” Her chuckle caught the hell’s beast’s attention and in a second she was pounced to the floor from behind.

Groaning she twisted around to find herself face to face with a serious eight years old. “You met my brother,” He said in his little boy voice but with a sombre air that surprised her.

“He goes to the same school as me,” She said, uselessly.

The boy’s light blue-green eyes narrowed at her dark pair, as if assessing her comment. What was there to analyze about it? It was just a fact. “I see.” Then he stood up elegantly –for an eight year old, anyway- and dusted off his clothes as though her germs would stick to them if he didn’t brush them away.

The girl sat up slowly, “Why do you ask?”

But the boy was already walking to the kitchen. The only sign that he had heard her was the brief turn of his head over his shoulder, “You weren’t flirting with him.” He stated.

“Why should I?” Her brow furrowed and she blew away dark strands of hair that fell on her face again, wet and heavy as they were.

“They all do, my babysitters,” He spoke, hoping on a stool to sit facing her, an atmosphere of gravity to him as if he were an interviewer and her possibly future boss. “It’s like they come to baby sit me just to be with him; it’s annoying. That’s why I drive them all away.”

“Oh,” She sat in front of him, holding her tilted head with one hand. “That’s because they were all whores.” Then she spluttered, “Don’t tell your parents I said that!”

To her surprise the boy smiled warmly and it made him look like he wasn’t really his age, “I like you,” The phrase brought immediate surprise to her features, “So I’ll propose a deal.”

Propose? Were eight years old supposed to know words like that? “Alright, I’ll listen. But that doesn’t mean I’ll accept.”

His dark blonde head bobbed, “The deal is this, I’ll behave like a good kid and you’ll date my brother.”

“What?” Her abrupt movement made the stool she sat on fall to the floor with a loud bang. Her eyes were wide and disbelieving. “You gotta be kidding. What kind of deal is that? I thought you hated flirty babysitters. If you want me to date your brother I’d be no better.” Then she barked a harsh laugh when she noticed she was arguing with an eight years old over some absurdity of the sort.

“You’re different, that’s why I want you to date him.” His gloomy demeanour let no room for jokes, but she thought it was another ploy to torture her. Maybe he was expecting her to bounce up and down screaming yes at the top of her lungs to then scream at her that she was such a fool to believe his big brother would date a whale like her.

That was right, she wasn’t a sexy blonde bomb but a plain fat brunette. There was no way the most popular guy in school would even consider going out with her– no, dating someone like her, when hordes of pretty girls were constantly on the look out for him. It surely was a joke from that little spawn of the devil and she’d play with him just this once. After all, there was no way… “Alright, we got ourselves a deal.”

The smile he shone was brighter than any she had seen him smile, even more than the grins he flashed at her all the afternoon after pranking her into madness, and it, in place of making her feel relieved, made apprehension tickle her back.

Not long after the McGregor parents arrived loaded with plastic bangs and cardboard boxes, and she offered to help them with some. After they were settled around the living room the Big McGregor boy walked down the stairs, looking like a king for all he knew and fresh like a lettuce after his shower. He saw with cool eyes how Agatha helped his parents and didn’t move a muscle until they were done.

“How did Rob behave, Aggie?” His mother asked with worry, the kind woman’s face darkening at the prospect of a messed up house to clean up later.

She plastered a smile on her face, “He was really nice,” And hoped it looked convincing enough. The little boy stuck close to her and smiled tightly as well.

“She’s a really nice babysitter.”

Their forced chuckles were nothing short of funny, and the older boy couldn’t help but join along in amusement.

“Well, here’s your payment,” The father of the family handed Agatha her coveted money and then added some more, “This is for all the trouble,” He said eying the familiar Iron Maden t-shirt she wore slyly. “I bet you even had to take care of Roy, too.”

Her eyes crinkled in the corners further, “Eh heh, it was a minor accident.”

“I’m sure…” The older man trailed off, glancing at his oldest son who smirked from behind her.

AG Notes: Oh noes, not another Chronicle (throws hands up on the air dramatically). But yes, this is yet another “I Didn’t Notice You Chronicles” chronicle. I dare ask, for a cyber cookie, who didn’t notice who in this story? Mwahaha… Either way, it was supposed to be a one-shot (another one-shot?!) but I don’t really think one-shots should be twenty three pages long, so I chopped it to four pieces. And once again, no monkey business! This is posted in the M-rated section mainly because this chapter is a bit too spicy and bad mouthed for the T section. I hope you guys like it! And that it doesn’t offend anyone. And if it does, then no helping it. Until next week.

Armith-Greenleaf

Oh, I had forgotten. Check out the Poll up in my profile, it’s somewhat controversial, but oh so very honest.