Chapter I: Knock Down my Door - Friday Morning

AN:

Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!

New one today, inspired by a music video by Gin Wigmore called Dirty Mercy that's kind of hilarious. Gin goes to babysit a kid, who ends up trying to make herself look like her (tattoos and punk clothes) and dances about in the garage like a pocket punk. Totally adorable, and a fun example of the POWER OF *I*M*A*G*I*N*A*T*I*O*N*. The kid looks like she's having a fucking blast. :D

watch?v=4RY1f4QbbzA

(Gin Wigmore - Dirty Mercy)

Also, for some reason, my mental image of Richard and Beverly in this fic seems to be just Richard and Emily Gilmore. Which is interesting, 'cause I kinda saw 'em as more of the Blue Bloods family in Blackwell Job. Well, interesting to me, anyway.

Oh, and I have a question for y'all. If you had a time machine about the size of an Iphone that could take you 30,000 years into the past or future, and teleport you to any lat-long coordinates of your choice while doing so, where would you go? I've got a time travel story planned, and I'm curious if there's anything in particular y'all would want from it. (For those of you who've seen this already, I'm just gonna be copy-pasting it onto every post I make until I manage to upload this planned story.)

Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.

"Help me Chloe-wan, you're my only hope!"

Huh.

Was not expecting a Star Wars reference when I picked up the phone at... oh shit, seven in the fucking morning. I wonder briefly who the hell this is, so I decide to ask that and deal with the Star Wars thing later. "Who... is this?"

"It's Max, dummy."

I sigh, knowing that there's no fucking way I'm gonna get to go back to sleep now. "What's up, Maximus?"

"So, you know how I said I was going to take a babysitting job for an evening to get money?"

"Yes..?" I say slowly, sitting up now. With that fucking lead-up, this had the potential to be very bad.

"Well.., turns out I didn't agree to just one evening."

Oh no.

"I agreed to a weekend."

Oh no.

I groan. "Shit, Max."

She sighs down the phone. "I know, I know."

"Read the fucking fine print next time!" I say, knowing full well that Max didn't read shit and never would. She was even worse at that than I was.

"I will, I promise, I just..."

I finally realise why she started this off with a Star Wars quote. "No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Come on, Chloe, I'm on my knees here."

"No you aren't."

"It's... It's metaphorical, okay? Just, please. I really need help." Then, she puts on the puppy-dog voice, knowing full fucking well what that meant for my already shitty decision-making skills. "Please, Chloe?"

Now she'd used The Voice, I knew exactly how this was gonna end too. Still, I try resist for at least a little longer. "Max, I am not helping you herd a pack of brats for a whole fucking weekend. Dude, just lie and tell them you can't make it." I flop back down onto the bed, trying to get as much warmth from it as possible while I still could. "Make up a dead grandparent or something. Even better if they're a triplet, you can use that excuse three times."

I grin, knowing exactly the face Max would pull to that, a sort of weird smile slash fond-eyeroll. It's seriously cute. Makes her freckles scrunch up like a lil' bunny. "I can't lie like that Chloe, and it's already Friday. That's not fair to them."

There's a couple beats of silence over the phone before Max pulls out the last stop. "Pleeeeaaaaase?"

I groan, rolling over to bury my damn sucker face in the pillow. "Fine." I mutter into it. "Text me the address and I'll meet you there."

"Yay! Thanks Chloe, you're the best. Make sure to dress respectably, they're kind of a nice family."

"Yeah I fucking am. See you then, Maxie." I hang up the phone and, after another couple of seconds to wallow in my bed, I pull myself upright and start getting ready in my most respectable, responsible-adulting-time clothes.

I park up on the nicest street I've ever seen, full of hedges and pillars and all sorts of posh architectural shit, outside one of the biggest houses on the road. I swing out of the cab of my truck and saunter up the sidewalk towards my tiny best friend.

My tiny best friend who bursts into giggles the second she sees me.

"Wowzers, Chloe. What on earth are you wearing?"

"I'm wearing a tie!" I protest, waving it around to demonstrate my respectability and all round adultishness.

"Over a tank-top saying 'fuck da police'," I grin when Max says fuck, same as every time she swears. It's really freaking adorable. She says it all muffled and awkwardly, like everyone does as kids with the 'bogeys' game. "and ripped skinny jeans."

I look down at my clothes and pretend to ponder it over for a second. "You may have a point, sah,"

I throw up a silly salute, grinning again when she giggles and that feeling in my chest starts up yet again. I relentlessly crush it down as Max asks between giggles "Where did you even get that? It's really gross."

I fake a shocked gasp of offence on behalf of my truly awful tie (I'd stolen it from step-douche. Dude seriously wore non-ironic paisley ties. No wonder I hated him) and say "I bought this, cough cough, stole it, cough cough, specifically, for your respectable, posh babysitting job and you insult my attire, purchased with my hard-earned money, cough cough, there was no money, I stole the tie, cough cough, money earned from the sweat of my honest labour, and-"

Max is entirely broken down in giggles by the time I finish rambling, her entire body shaking with laughter as tears leak from her eyes like a flood. "I-I'm sorry, Chloe. You, you put so much effort in, and I just mocked you for it." Still giggling. "Can you ever forgive me?" She looks up at me, eyes sparkling with amusement, and I think, not for the first time, and definitely not for the last, that I'm totally screwing everything up by not leaning down and kissing the shit out of her. Of course, then my sensible (paranoid) brain kicks in and tells me about how much I'd screw everything up if I did in fact do that. It gets quite graphic too, lots of blood and screaming, always with Max in the centre of it.

Couldn't have that.

So, instead of... doing that, I shake my head and start talking about whatever random bullshit pops into my head. "Nope. It's Vendetta time. The Price-Caulfield feud will last for centuries, until some playwright makes up a story about it because no-one can even remember what started it."

She finally gets control over her giggles and just sort of stares at me fondly for a few seconds before shaking her head. "Well, I guess it's the best we're going to get, huh."

I shrug and am about to totally agree when I remember something. I hold up a hand, "One sec." and scurry back to my truck and pull out my leather jacket. After tightening up my tie a little bit, I look plenty respectable. Max eyes me sceptically when I tell her that, but I know I'm right. After a second, she shakes her head, taps her watch "It's time."

She takes a deep breath, and I can see her shaking with nerves. I lay a hand down onto her shoulder. "It's gonna be fine, Maxie. We're an awesome team, and kids love me, and you're all responsible and shit, so yeah. It's gonna be fine."

She takes another deep breath, mimicking her last, and nods. She repeats my last sentence absently, under her breath all the way up to the door. "It's gonna be fine."

It's a massive door, one of those big fancy ones; there's a stone pillar built into each side, and a little triangle of a roof extending out from the house above it. After another deep breath, Max reaches up and rings the doorbell.

We hear a loud, distant booming, like church-bells, and after about four minutes (seriously, aren't these people supposed to be expecting us?) the door opens to reveal a tall, thin woman in an expensive looking suit-dress-thing with a string of pearls on her neck. She eyes us over thin glasses, looking both of us over before giving us a just-eaten-bad-oysters smile. "Maxine, dear, good to see you. And who is your friend?"

Max opens her mouth to speak, but I step forward before she can and thrust out my hand at this posh bitch who can't call my friend by her actual name. "I'm Chloe, ma'am. Max asked me to help out. That okay?"

The Bitch stares down at my hand for a second or two before hesitantly taking it and giving it a weak-ass shake. "Charmed. I'm Beverly. And it's quite alright. I'm sure Maxine has informed you of the rules of the house?"

I nod, "Oh yeah, every last one. No ballroom dancing with your silverware on my watch, ma'am."

She raises an eyebrow in confusion, but quickly seems to decide that I'm joking and dismisses the thought with a shake of her head. "Do come in. Richard is just preparing our bags."

We follow the lady into her house, and the inside is full of even more posh architectural shit than the outside. They have one of those weird double-staircase things you see in old movies in, like, European castles and stuff. I mean.., Holy Shit, right? I lean over to Max and whisper, sotto voce "We can still make a run for it, y'know. The Dead Grandparent thing is totally still on the table."

Max rolls her eyes and mutters back, putting on a crappy British accent. "Sorry Chloe, no can do. We're in too deep now. We bug out, and we'll blow our cover to the Jerries."

I grin, sticking out my hand like we're about to seal a business deal. "Once more unto the breach then?"

Max smiles as she takes my hand, giving it a single emphatic shake "Unto the breach once more, dear friend."

We focus back on Beverly as we realise that we've totally fallen behind being guided through a strangers house and that's kinda weird. So, we hurry along and catch up to her, apparently without her ever noticing. She leads us past the pointless staircase and through a dining room into a sitting room in the back. She gestures to one of the ridiculously many couches in the room and invites us to sit, then offers us a frigging drink.

It does take me a second to realise she doesn't mean booze.

Max accepts with a grateful little nod of her head, asking for a water. Me, I go soda. I was kinda weirded out when she handed me some fizzy water, but I figure she's old and probably losing it a little, so I let it slide and drink my fizzy water. Max and the Bitch chat for a while about something boring sounding, so I tune out. She was ignoring me, anyway. Didn't even look at me when she gave me my fizzy water. Rude.

"So," I ask, interrupting her and Max mid-boring "How many kids are we 'sitting, anyway?"

Beverly raises an eyebrow at me, but answers simply "Three. The youngest, Lynn, the middle child, Sarah, and the eldest, Kate."

I blink. Shit. Three? For the whole weekend? What did I fucking agree to..? I keep all that inside, and hopefully off my face, and just reply "Cool."

Beverly promptly starts ignoring me again and turns back to Max. "Now, Maxine, the keys are all on the mahogany rack in the kitchen, and Richard has put some money for you both in the top drawer of the bureau," She points to a desk in the corner before listing off more shit she wants us to absolutely certainly totally remember.

Max just nods, logging it all down somewhere in her head, and "okay"-ing and "uhuh"-ing every so often. I just keep drinking. This fizzy water isn't half bad, actually. Might have to ask Mom to get some.

Eventually, a dude appears at one of the side doors and walks over to behind the couch Beverly Bitch is sat on, leaning down to plant a kiss on her cheek. "Hello, dear. Everything is packed and has been taken out to the car."

"Excellent." Beverly nods up at him with a pleased smile, then turns back and gestures to Max and me. "Richard, you remember Maxine."

The man nods, and extends a hand out to Max with a friendly smile. Way friendlier than his wife's. "Of course. So nice to see you again, Max." He called her Max! It's official, this is my favourite of the... shit, what the hell is these people's last name?

Max shakes his hand. "You too, Mr Marsh."

Huh. That was convenient. Richard is my favourite Marsh. Not much of a competition so far though. Maybe the kids'll be awesome. Beverly just kinda sucks.

"And this," Beverly continues, waving over at me next, completely oblivious to my mental mocking of her, "Is a friend of hers who has offered to help out. Chloe, wasn't it?"

I nod. "Yep. That's me."

Richard shakes my hand as well. Dude has a firm grip. "Nice to meet you, Chloe." He turns back to his wife and nods politely (how fucking cold are these people to each other? They barely act like they're married, for fucks sake.) then says something about warming the car up and heads out.

Beverly gets up from the couch. "Well, we'll be leaving shortly, but I'll introduce you to the children before we go." She turns to the doorway and calls "Children? Come down here, please."

After a couple minutes, three girls file in and stand in a line by their mom. "Hello, mother." They all speak at the same time, like some creepy Stepford kids.

Beverly doesn't seem fazed, which confirmed what I already knew.

Rich people are fucking weird.

She waves to the first kid. "This is Lynn."

A little girl in a pretty pink dress, maybe twelve or thirteen, and with her hair tied back into a ponytail, steps forward and fucking curtsies at me. Curtsies! That's just weird. "Hello," She says. "It's very nice to meet you."

I blink. "Uh, you too."

The next kid steps forward. She's in a slightly less 1800s dress, something actually bordering on modern. "This is Sarah." The kid doesn't speak, just nods, then steps back. Huh, I might like that one.

Beverly eyes Sarah disapprovingly for a moment before continuing the introductions. "And this," She waves forward a demure-looking girl in a bland skirt, bland shirt, and bland cardigan. "is Kate, my eldest."

Kate's dirty-blonde bun wobbles precariously as she curtsies to us. "Hello. It's nice to meet you."

I tap my chest. "I'm Chloe," I thumb over at the midget next to me. "That's Max. We're 'sitting you for the weekend, I guess."

They nod, but don't say shit. Huh. Maybe this is gonna be easier than I thought. Boring as fuck, yeah, but easy as fuck too. After a beat of silence, Beverly nods her head in satisfaction. "Well now, I'm sure you'll all get along famously. But now, Richard and I need to leave." She turns to her kids. "Goodbye, children. We'll be seeing you on Sunday." She kisses each one on the head, and then leaves us alone in the room.

The three girls sit on the couch opposite, looking expectantly back at us.

I lean over and whisper to Max "So, uh... What now?"

Max shrugs. "I didn't think this far."

After a second, I reach into my back pocket and pull out a deck of cards. "Any of you kids know how to play poker?"

Kate reaches up with one hand, putting a finger over her lips.

She fucking shushed me!

After a second, we hear the door close, and a car drive away.

The three girls, all in unison, let out a sigh of relief. Lynn reaches up and lets her hair down and Sarah's rigid posture relaxes. The only one who stays mostly the same is Kate. Only her eyes show any sign of her being relaxed.

Sarah suddenly reaches forward from her slouch and plucks the cards out of my hand before shuffling them with speed and dexterity that I hadn't seen outside of online poker vids, the cards almost dancing through her fingers, as her two sisters crowd around, Lynn eagerly, Kate more reserved and with serious middle-child eyeroll.

"Five card stud, nothing wild." Sarah drawls as she passes out cards. When she spots our shocked faces, she just grins a slight little grin and asks "You want me to deal you in?"

I look over at Max and we slowly mouth two simple little words of amazement at each other.

"Holy. Shit."