Chapter 1: Witness

This is a co-write between DMBfan and The Silent Rumble. We do not own Cheaper by the Dozen. Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Characters are the same age as in the first Baker movie.

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10-year-old Connor walked down the grass where Jake lived. He was wearing a dark brown t-shirt that read 'hey, they all look at me,' and shorts. He had his swimming trunks in his backpack, hopping that Jake would agree to go swimming with him. Last time he'd ditched at the last minute. "Hey," he called as Jake walked outside. "What took so long?"

"Long story. You ready to go swimming?" Jake asked. He was wearing a shirt that read 'your face hurts' and his swimming trunks.

Connor grinned and shook his wavy, brown hair. "Well," he said, faking a drawl,

"Let's skate."

"Did I just hear you say let's skate?" Jake teased. Usually, the two walked to the swimming pool, about two blocks away. He was already about a half a block ahead of head of Connor on his board.

"Shut up," Connor said, easily catching up with Jake.

"How's your dad?" Jake asked, meaning David. He was always away on some police call.

"Boring," Connor replied. "He's always away. A-w-a-y. He's never home anymore and he's always off on some police work."

"What about your mom?" Jake asked.

"Fight central. You?" Connor asked, knowing Jake's response. He slipped and fell, wincing as his stomach hit the pavement. He easily picked himself back up and finished skating the full way to the pool.

"My parents both work full time now. I've practically got the house to myself most of the time. Kim and Jessica are always off competing at some club thing, Sarah's off doing sports, Charlie's either pissed off or asleep, and I'm just caught in the rut."

Jake opened the door to the swimming pool. "It's hot out here," he said, taking off his shirt and slathering his arms with sunscreen.

Connor did the same. "Yeah."

"Dude, nasty scar," Jake said. He remembered seeing it on Connor's stomach once before, but had never asked where it came from.

"Same for yourself. Where did yours come from?" Connor asked, hopping to divert the subject from his scar.

"Surgery, a year ago. Car wreck. You?" If Jake felt any shame about his scar, he didn't say so. He looked away for a brief second, staring defiantly at the life guard.

"Two surgeries. Appendix. And. Car wreck."

"Ouch." The two swam for about an hour before Jake felt tired. His stomach felt funny, too, which was unusual, because Jake could usually swim two or three hours before getting tired. He was definitely the swimmer in the family.

"Hey, Connor, if it's ok with you, can we just go home now? I'm exhausted," Jake said.

"Yeah, sure," Connor said. "You feeling okay?"

Jake shook his head. "My stomach hurts like hell, man."

"Fun." Connor's sarcasm matched his own as Connor skated back to the Baker place. "You feeling okay, Jake? I almost never beat you in a race."

Jake nodded. "Yeah, besides my stomach hurting," he said. Suddenly, he doubled over and clutched his stomach. "I feel sick." He felt dizzy.

"Like how sick do you feel?" Connor asked. He helped Jake sit down on the porch.

"I don't know. Pretty sick," he replied, moaning as his stomach reminded him he'd

eaten too much for breakfast. He had only eaten eggs, ham and some waffles, but he was quickly reminded that it could – and would – come up in a hurry.

"Damn." Connor shuddered. "What should I do?"

"Run inside and get me a glass of water," Jake said. "I'm thirsty."

Connor nodded and ran inside the Baker's house. It seemed strange; no one was there that afternoon. Jake was supposed to be at his house, but the two had opted for playing around outside.

"Want me to get my mom?" Connor asked.

Jake quickly shook his head. Connor's mom! No, no, no – he'd much rather has his own mom. But she was at work.

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"Hey," Connor said, "that was the first time I beat you."

"Only because you turned around," Jake encountered. "Man, what time is it?"

"Two-thirty," Connor said, looking at his watch. It was cyan blue and read TWO-THIRTY-FIVE. He had it set five minutes ahead of time thanks to his mother, who insisted that it would help him get places in time.

"My parents should be home any time now," he muttered as he glanced upstairs. "Somewhere around three or three thirty." His bed was looking pretty tempting. "I wonder what my mom'll say when I ditch supper."

"'Oh, Jakey, are you feeling okay?'" Connor mimicked, and Jake had to smile. Connor could mimic nearly anyone.

"I don't feel well," Jake said. "I swear, I'm going to collapse on the porch."

"Okay, Jake, bedtime," Connor said, taking charge. "Come on. Your mom will kill me if I don't get to sleep."

"Dude," Jake muttered. He was shivering from the cold.

"On second thought, get out of those wet clothes," Connor said, feeling like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. He didn't want to get in trouble for that as well.. "We don't want you getting phenomena on top of anything else you've got."

"Can't I just go to bed?" Jake groaned.

"No. Go get into some dry clothes," Connor said.

"Fine," Jake grumbled and shuffled up to his room. After he changed into a hoodie, and jeans, he crashed into bed.

"You gonna live?"

"Yeah…" Jake groaned. His stomach hurt like hell. Now he knew how Sarah felt when she had the chicken pox.

"Want anything?"

"Ice cream and soda," Jake said. "That's what Sarah got when she had the chicken pox."

"Chicken pox?" Connor asked.

"I don't know, dude. Can I just have some?" He was hungry, and that was one of the few things that sounded good. The other thing was pizza, but his mother strongly discouraged the use of the oven well they were home alone. That, and all the pizzas were for the pizza night on Friday, which wasn't for another four days.

"You think your mom would mind?" Connor asked. He wasn't sure what to think of Jake's mom. She was unique. Well she cared about her children she didn't seem to care about their eating habits.

"No," Jake replied honestly. His mom usually let him eat anything he wanted.

Connor got Jake the ice cream and the soda, and then left to give Jake some rest. For a ten year old, he wasn't stupid. He didn't want to catch the chicken pox if Jake had them.

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Jake's mom got home late that night. When she came into Jake's room, she found him sleeping on his bed. "Weird," she thought. "Jake is usually still up and running around at ten o'clock." For Monday night, this was unusual. 24 was on, and that was Jake's favorite show. She wondered if he was feeling sick, but decided against it. Instead, she decided that he had been tired from going swimming with Connor,

She made a mental note to put Jake in an activity like the rest of them. It was much easier to ship the twelve of them off to activity after activity then to pay Connor's mother for babysitting. She wasn't charging very much, but if Jake came home like this every day…

"Night, Jake." She brushed her hand over his head and left the room, closing the door tightly behind her.

Jake woke up at about 11:15. He cursed himself mentally. "I should've gone to bed at the normal time. I wouldn't be awake now," he cursed himself. He heard a few shrieks at the next-door house. Figuring they were watching TV, he looked over. He was still mad at himself for missing 24. It was his all-time favorite show, and he'd missed it. 'Well, guess I'll just have to wait until the DVD comes out,' he thought.

What he saw instead surprised him. The next-door neighbor, Seth, was down on the floor. The room had no curtains, so he was able to see through clearly. Seth grabbed a knife from his nearby knife collection, and stabbed something that was above him.

The figure – which Jake discovered quickly was a person – got up, and was slammed to the floor, by Seth. Cool, was Jake's first thought. A WEE rock fight.

Jake shuddered as Seth owned his opponent, quickly stabbing him/her/it with a knife. The man, as Jake now saw, got quickly up and tried to run for the door, but a solid blow to the head blocked all that.

Jake fell down and shook his head. He couldn't believe what he'd just seen. Maybe this was a nightmare. Pinching himself, he winced. He wondered if he had imagined what he'd just seen. Maybe he was going crazy.

Falling back into bed, he decided that if it was a nightmare, he could forget about it until tomorrow and wait and see about it. If he still remembered, he would report it to the police – maybe Connor's dad, although he rarely believed anything Jake and Connor had to say, coming from the one time when they were seven and six and reported an alien sighting.

But this was different. If what Jake thought was right, he saw a murder. But his eyes had to be playing tricks on him. Right?

Right… He couldn't shake the feeling of what he'd seen was real, but he couldn't bring himself to go downstairs and tell anyone.

If it wasn't, he could call the police. He never dreamed that what would happen next would lead towards a mission of impossible for him.

He just wanted to go back to sleep. Crashing back into bed, he slipped back into sweet blackness, escaping all his pain.

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End ch1