A/N: this is dedicated to my great friend, Rhianne here on ffn, who inspired it, and actually helped me come up with most of it. Thanx!!!

My name is Marco.

I face death every other day. I face Dracon Beams, Hork-Bajir, and usually Visser Three himself. But the most horrifying experience I've ever had is the one I'm about to tell you about.

I walked into my apartment and found my dad talking on the phone. Here's the thing- my dad does not talk on the phone. I knew something was up.

"OK," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Bye!"

"Who was that?" I asked once he hung up. I nudged him with my elbow jokingly. "Hot date? Huh?"

"Actually, yeah," he replied.

I was shocked. I never expected that. But I was happy for him. I mean, he took my mom's "death" pretty hard, and I was glad to see him moving on.

"That's great," I said. "Carpe diem. Seize the day. Glad to see you moving on. Who's the lucky gal?"

"Naomi Berenson."

I froze. "Uh… any relation to Rachel Berenson?"

"She's her mother."

That shattered every feeling of happiness I had for him. Rachel and I don't get along the best. I mean, we aren't exactly enemies or whatever, but the thought of being related to her kind of made me sick.

"Don't rush life," I said. "I mean, what about mom? Are you sure you want to forget about her and-"

"I'm not forgetting about her, Marco. You mother will always have a spot in my heart. But I can't live the rest of my life alone."

"You have me. We hang out."

"But what about when you go to college or get a place of your own? I'll be so old and wrinkly that I won't have a chance at getting a date."

"But dad!" I wined, something I don't do too often.

He laughed. "Marco, you're probably not going to believe me when I say this, and as sappy as it sounds, I think I'm in love."

Well, he was right. I didn't believe him, nor did I want to believe him. But I didn't argue further, because- hey, let's face it- I don't control my dad's love life.

"OK," I said. "But, uh, try to move slow, OK? It'll be three years before I go to college, so you have a little time."

Dad laughed again. It was a kind of weird sound, because I hadn't heard him laugh in so long. "OK, I'll do that. Say, do you wanna play some Playstation? How about NFL Blitz?"

I forced back a smile. "You know I'll kick your butt!"

~*~

In love? In love? How could my dad be in love? I thought there was a lid for every pot or something like that. If he was in love now, what did that say about my mom? Did he love her? Or are there two lids for every pot? Maybe three?

"Marco," Rachel said from behind me in the lunch line. "Can I have your pizza?"

"I don't have any pizza," I replied. "But you can have my cardboard." I plopped the square piece of who-knows-what onto her trey.

"Are you OK?"

"Peachy."

I started to walk to a table, but she went in front of me. "What's your problem?"

"My problem?" I repeated. "I'll tell you my problem. My problem is that your mother is too attractive for my own good!"

Rachel blinked. "Wow. Getting into the older women?"

"Not for me," I said, rolling my eyes. "My dad. Suddenly he's on this Romeo kick."

"For my mom?"

"Yeah, unless you know another Naomi Berenson."

Rachel made a face. "My mom and your dad? Gross! Your dad is some kind of depressing moron and my mom is a business freak lawyer! They're totally wrong for each other!"

"Got that right. Enjoy your lunch."

"Actually, I lost my appetite. Want your cardboard back?"

I love pizza. I hate cafeteria food. "No thanks. Throw it away. Take the rest of my lunch with you." I set my tray on top of hers and walked over to the table Jake was sitting at. He was talking to a couple of guys named Trey and Max.

"Hey, guys," I said, sitting down across from Jake.

"Where's your lunch?" he asked.

"Garbage can."

"But we're having secret goop #3 today," Trey joked. "I thought that was your favorite."

I smiled, but then looked back to Jake. "I found something important out last night," I said. "My dad…" I paused to build suspense. "Is dating your aunt."

"Ew!" Jake said. "Really?"

I nodded. "Scary, huh?"

Max pointed to Jake. "Isn't his aunt married?"

Trey hit him upside the head. "No, you moron! His other aunt! Rachel's mom?"

"Oh."

"It's good that your dad is dating again, but can't he pick someone else? Can you imagine me saying "Uncle Peter?" And Marco, won't we be related?"

"Cousin-in-law," I said. "Or something like that."

"And if they get married, who knows what Rachel will do," Max said. "Probably run away or something."

"Yeah," Trey agreed smiling. "I'll have to make sure I'm there for her."

"Funny," Max said. "You know she has her eye on me."

"Guys, please," Jake said. "I don't wanna spend my lunch talking about my cousin."

"Then we'll talk about someone else," Max said. "Like Alison."

"Jake," Trey said. "She's got it really bad for you. You should ask her out."

"No thanks."

"Why not?"

Because even thought he could go out with a popular, rich, pretty girl he'd rather go out with someone who always has some kind of poop on her jeans, I thought.

"Dating at this age is pointless," Jake said. "Girlfriends are like puppies. They're cute, but you have to buy stuff for them and take care of them. I don't really have the time for one, anyway."

"Then you'll at least put in a good word for me, right?" Max said hopefully.

"Sure. Whatever. Look, guys, I'll see you later." Jake picked up his tray and started to leave. I got up and followed him.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Cassie. We have a meeting at her house tonight, OK?"

"I can't. My dad has a date and I need to make sure he gets home before ten."

"Marco…"

I smiled. "Kidding, Big Jake. I'll be there. 7:30?"

"Yeah."

~*~

"C'mon, Marco," my dad said that night, putting his jacket on.

I didn't take my eyes off the TV. "Where we goin'?"

"Date with Naomi."

I blinked and turned to face him. "And it's my date?"

"It's my date, but you have to come along and baby-sit Jordan and Sara. Rachel has gymnastics, and I figured that since I'd be coming by anyway I'd take you along. Besides… you should get to know them."

The words "get to know them" meant only one thing to me- they were going to be my little sisters.

I felt like screaming "NOOOOOOOOO!" but instead I said what any other teenage guy would have said. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. I told her you would. Now get your coat."

I moaned and got up. This night promised to be a bad one.

~*~

"And if you need anything, my pager number is on the-"

"OK, OK," I said. "Don't worry. If I need anything, I'll call 911."

"No! Unless it's an emergency, don't-"

"I know. I was kidding. We'll be fine."

"And whatever you do, don't let them jump on my bed. There's a weak spring and it'll br-"

"Don't worry! I got it, OK?" Dad grabbed Naomi's hand and pulled her towards the door.

As they left, I called, "Don't do anything you wouldn't do in front of me!"

When the door shut, I walked into the living room where Jordan and Sara were watching cartoons.

"So," I said. "What-"

"Gooby Moo!" Sara cheered.

"Huh?"

"Scooby Doo," Jordan translated. "Her favorite."

"Oh."

Maybe this'll be easy, I thought. All I'd have to do is sit there and watch cartoons with them. I sat down on the floor and watched Scooby Doo credits roll across the screen.

Jordan got up and turned the TV off. So much for watching cartoons. "What should we do?" she asked me.

"Uh… what do you want to do?"

"Gymnantics!" Sara cried.

Jordan smiled. "She likes doing stretches Rachel teaches her. Wanna see some?"

No, I didn't, but if it would keep them busy and happy, why not? "Sure," I said.

"Yay!"

Sara started doing some unimpressive stretches, with the help of Jordan, when the phone rang.

"Stay there," I said, getting up. I ran to the phone and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Is Naomi Berenson there?"

"No, should I have her call you back?'

"This is just a courtesy call, we can try back later."

"K." I hung up when I remembered the meeting that we Animorphs were having at Cassie's. "Shoot," I muttered. I looked at my watch. 6:30. Dad and Naomi would not be home before 7:30. I picked the phone back up and called Cassie.

"Hello?" she asked.

"I can't come to… study group tonight," I said. "I'm baby-sitting Rachel's little sisters."

I heard Cassie suppress a laugh. "You're baby-sitting? Rachel's sisters? Watch it, they can be a handful."

"Maybe for you, but I am King Marco, Lord of Baby-sitting."

"If you have troubles with them, call me, OK? Before you call Ms. Berenson. The parents sometimes look down on you calling them. They think you can't handle it. But I know how to handle Rachel's sisters. I've baby-sat them before."

"What's there to know? You're thinking I'd have troubles with two little girls? You insult me!"

Crash!

I heard something fragile hit the floor.

"Look, Cassie, I have to go."

"OK. Bye!"

"Later."

I hung up and ran into Naomi's room. There, on the hard wood floor, sat a broken lamp.

"Who did that?" I demanded.

Jordan's mouth was hanging wide open as she pointed to Sara.

"Oopsies!" Sara squeaked. She started out the door, but I grabbed her.

"Clean that up," I said to her.

"Sara doesn't know how," Jordan said. "She just learned how to walk."

"Well, one of you has to clean it up," I replied. "I'm gonna get a broom." I left, but before I went into the kitchen I put a chair in front of the room so they couldn't leave.

I rushed into the kitchen and found a broom leaning against a courner. I grabbed it and went back into Naomi's room.

"Here," I said. "No one leaves this room until those pieces are swept into a pile." I left and shut the door, wondering if my "brilliant plan" would work. No such luck.

Two minutes later I heard a scream. I opened the door and found Sara laying on the floor crying.

"What happened?" I demanded.

"We were jumping on the bed and one corner gave out. Sara slid down it and landed on her arm," Jordan reported.

Rule #1, I told myself. NEVER leave them alone.

"OK," I said, getting down on my knees by Sara. I looked at her arm. Nothing broken, or she'd be screaming so much I'd be deaf by now. But there would probably be a pretty nasty bruise there later.

"You guys didn't clean up the lamp," I stated.

"No," Jordan admitted. "I will."

I watched her very carefully as she swept up the pieces, expecting her to run for it or something. But, to my surprise and delight, she didn't.

"Good," I said. "Thanks."

"Can I have a snack?"

"Um… sure."

We walked into the kitchen and Jordan pulled out some Ritz crackers and Goldfish.

"Sara can have these," she said. I nodded and got them both some apple juice.

"OK. Jordan, will you be a big girl?"

"How?"

"I need you to watch Sara. Will you do that for me? I'm gonna put those lamp pieces in a garbage bag."

"I can be a big girl!" she declared.

"OK. But you can't move from this spot. I'll be back."

So it was a violation of rule #1. But I figured that maybe she'd be good now. After all, she cleaned up the lamp pieces, and I gave her something she wanted.

I grabbed a plastic bag and went back into Naomi's room. I put the pieces in the bag and was horrified when I heard another "Oopsies!"

I sighed and ran back into the kitchen, garbage bag in hand. I noticed the puddle of apple juice on the floor.

"Great," I muttered.

"Sara dropped her cup," Jordan explained. "She usually uses a sipper so it doesn't spill, but you didn't give her one this time."

"You didn't tell me," I shot back. Then I big my tongue. My fault. This was my fault. Rule #2- NEVER violate rule #1.

"Sorry," I said. I went over to the paper towels and grabbed a bunch. I soaked up the juice, then put the cup in the sink and the paper towels in the garbage.

They snacked for a little bit, then Jordan said, "Wanna play a game?"

"What game?" I asked, hoping for Hi-Ho-Cherry O or Uno.

"Cops and Robbers!"

"Yay!" Sara cheered.

"How do you play?"

"Me and Sara are the robbers, and you have to catch us and tie us to chairs!"

What would happen if dad and Naomi came in to find her two little baby girls being tied to chairs by the baby-sitter? I wasn't too crazy about the idea.

"Um… how about Candyland?"

"But we always play Cops and Robbers with Rachel!"

It sounded like something Rachel would do. Tying her sisters to chairs.

"OK," I said. "How do I tie you?"

Jordan smiled and opened a drawer to pull out two fabric table cloths.

"That's what you usually use?" I asked. I wasn't sure if they were nice cloths or whatever and Naomi didn't want them wrinkled, but she nodded. "OK. Why don't you guys go hide?"

They left, and I used their absence to put the Ritz and Goldfish away. Then I started looking.

I found Jordan in no time. I grabbed her by the wrists and dragged her into the kitchen. She sat down and put her hands behind the chair peacefully.

"Tie it real tight," she said.

"OK," I said, making them a little loose. I'd rather lose the game than cut off her circulation.

"Tie my feets, too," she said eagerly. I did.

"Now I look for Sara?" I asked.

"Yep."

I took off, and found Sara quickly. I picked her up and brought her to the chair, and found Jordan gone.

I set Sara on the chair and started trying to tie her, but she ran away. So I set off again.

I found Jordan again and tied her, but this time tighter. Then I found Sara and brought her to Jordan.

"I got both of you… now what?"

"New game!"

"OK."

I untied her and they went to hide. Then I heard another yell.

I moaned and ran downstairs, following the noise, to find Jordan crying with her head by the wall.

"I slipped," she said between sobs. "My head hurts."

"I'll get ice," I said, running back upstairs. I put ice in a bag and wrapped it in a hand cloth, then brought it back to Jordan.

"Here," I said. "Put this where it hurts."

She laughed. "Fooled you!" she said triumphantly.

I was tempted to kill her right then and there.

"OK," I said and raked my hands through my hair, getting frusterated. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

"I wanna call Amy!"

"Who's Amy?"

"My friend."

"OK, but just for a little bit."

We walked into the living room and Jordan picked up the cordless phone. She dialed.

"Hi!" she said cheerfully. Then she laughed. "You're silly. You sound weird!" She paused again, then giggled.

Ah, but she made one mistake. The volume on the phone was up a little too high, and I was able to hear a male voice saying something- in un-English.

I yanked the phone out of her hand and listened to the man go on and on in Spanish, saying stuff I didn't understand. I said the first Spanish phrase that came to mind. "Hola, chica!"

The man paused for a second, probably shocked and even mad that a stupid American kid had just called him a girl. So I said the only other Spanish phrase I knew. "Yo quero Taco Bell. Adios!" I quickly hung up.

If my Spanish ancestors had seen me then, they'd be very ashamed.

"Does your friend Amy live in Spain?" I demanded.

"Um… yes?"

"Wrong answer! Um…" I tried to think up a punishment. "Sit in the chair."

"Mom always makes us go to our rooms."

"Fine. Do that, then." I noticed Sara making little noises and crossing her legs. "What's up with her?" I asked Jordan before she left.

"Her? Oh- she has to go to the bathroom." Jordan went into her room.

I shook my head. "This is not happening!" I wined. "Come on, Sara." I escorted her to the bathroom, then shut the door and waited outside.

When the toilet flushed multiple times, I knew something was up, so I opened the door and there stood Sara, flushing an overflowing toilet full of overflowing toilet paper.

"No!" I said. She giggled and flushed again.

I picked her up and walked out of the water-filled bathroom.

"Marco!" Jordan called. I walked into her room, still holding Sara.

"What?"

"My computer doesn't work!"

I looked at it. On the monitor it showed a BSOD (Blue Screen Of Death).

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"You obviously didn't do nothing!"

"But how do you fix it?"

OK, I'm a computer wiz. I could have had that thing up and running in minutes, maybe seconds. But why should I? So Jordan could play on it during her punishment?

"I don't know," I lied. "Come on, now. You're gonna sit in the chair."

"But mom-"

"You know what? I'm not your mother! So sit in the chair!"

Jordan walked into the living room and sat down. I put Sara in a high chair and put the tray over her lap so she couldn't get out.

"Look," I said to Jordan. "I can make the rest of my time here a terrible time for you. I can be quite the slave driver, especially if you get on my nerves which, hey let's face it, you already have. Not only that, but I can give your mother a report of your behavior that will make your skin crawl. Trust me, I can be very creative. Or we can have some fun. What do you say? Do you want to sit in that chair until you get cancer, or do you wanna have some fun?"

Jordan looked confused. "I can get cancer?"

I laughed. "Of course you can. Haven't you read "Getting Cancer for Dummies?" It only takes about fifteen minutes." OK, so maybe she'd be scarred for life as far as sitting down goes, but I wasn't worried about long-term.

"I don't wanna get cancer! What's cancer?"

"A thing where your hair falls off. Be nice if you don't want cancer."

"OK!"

"Then you can get up. Now we can do whatever you want, within reason."

"Makeovers!"

"No way" was my first thought, but I figured what the heck? If it would satisfy her and keep her away from sharp or breakable objects, sure.

"OK." I pulled Sara out of the highchair and we went into Jordan's room. She pulled out a bunch of fifty-cent makeup, and the makeover began.

Well, I was the one she chose to make over. By the end, I looked like Picasso's latest project.

After that, I was going to put them to bed, but Jordan said they always got something to drink first, so I gave them both a glass of milk. Things seemed to be going well, until Sara threw up.

"She didn't eat anything!" I said. "How could this happen?!"

"Sara has to drink a special milk," Jordan replied. "Otherwise she throws up."

I sighed. "You know what?" I asked no one in particular. "I watch Big Daddy. I know how to handle this." I grabbed a newspaper and set it over Sara's mess.

"Now it's time for bed."

"No."

"You don't wanna go to bed?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"No."

Then the door opened and Rachel walked in. She stared at me. "Marco, I've never seen this side of you."

At first I wondered what she was talking about, then I remembered the makeup.

"Thanks," I muttered. "Do you know how to get this kid to bed?"

Rachel shrugged. "It's no that hard." Then she looked at Jordan. "You wanna put your PJs on and go to bed?"

"Yeah!"

Rachel gave me a Look. "All you have to do is ask."

"I tried that."

She shook her head. "So tell me… what are you doing in my house, exactly?"

"I'm… uh, babysitting. Our parents had a date, and your mom needed a babysitter."

"Well… tell you what. You put Sara to bed and I'll take care of Jordan."

"Sounds good to me."

Rachel smiled. "And when we're done with that, I'll get you a washcloth."

"Good plan."

I picked up Sara and brought her into her room. I had NO intention of changing her. She could just sleep in her regular clothes, for all I cared.

I set her in the crib and she laid down. I put a nearby blanket over her and started to leave.

"Wait," she said quietly. I turned around.

"What?"

"Hug." She got up and her arms were wide open, heading in my direction. I rolled my eyes and bent down to hug her.

"Aw," said Rachel, standing in the doorway. "It's a Kodak moment."

I let go of Sara and turned around. "Jordan asleep?"

"Yep."

"Then let's go get that washcloth."

We were on our way to the bathroom when the parents walked in. They smiled at seeing my lovely face.

"Marco," dad said. "You look… terrible."

"Thanks," I said. "I tried to stay in the lines, but…"

Naomi laughed. "They wanted to do makeovers, did they?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, yes."

"So how was it?"

"Hmm… well, the lamp broke, the bed broke, Sara bruised her arm, apple juice spilled, your table cloths are wrinkled, the toilet overflowed, and Jordan's computer crashed. Besides that and the prank call to Spain, you're in good shape. And by the way," I pointed to the newspaper covering Sara's mess. "Don't step on that. I hope you already read that article."

Naomi paused. "Well…" she said slowly. "Thank you for doing this. It takes away some of your time." She turned to my dad and said something quietly. It was probably something like, "What were you thinking bringing that crazy kid into my here he ruined my beautiful house I don't EVER wanna see him again we're through I can't believe you let me ask him to watch my babies!!"

My dad nodded. "OK. Well, come on, Marco. Let's go home."

"Yeah," I said. Naomi reached for her wallet, but I stopped her. "You don't have to lie, I know I did a bad job. Why don't you save it and get a new lamp? Or a bed? Or pay the phone bill?"

She smiled. "Thank you again."

"Sure." Then my dad and I left.

It was quiet in the car for a couple minutes, then dad said, "So… you have fun?"

I stared at him. "Guess."

There was a little more silence, then he said, "Prank call to Spain, huh?"

"Prank call to Spain? Oh, no, no, no. We were calling Jordan's friend Amy. Who doesn't live in Spain."

Dad blinked. "Um… OK. So, what's the story on that?"

"No story, dad. Jordan just wanted to call Amy. Could she? Of course. So I said yes. Next thing I know, I'm saying "Hola, chica" to some Spanish guy!"

Dad snorted. "Did you say anything else?"

"Yo quero Taco Bell."

Now he totally laughed. "You said that?"

"Dad, I don't find this amusing. Yes, I said that, and-"

"Calm down, Marco. It's over now."

"Never again will I do that for you. I will go out with Rachel before I baby-sit for those two monsters!"

He laughed again. "Don't worry. I don't think Naomi will have you baby-sit for her again any time soon."

~*~

Before school the next morning, Cassie came up to my locker.

"So," she said casually. "How's King Marco, Lord of Babysitting?"

I gave her a look that said "don't ask."

"I told you they could be a handful. So, are you taking away your title now?"

"No," I said. "I'm still the Lord of Babysitting. It's demonsitting I can't get the hang of."

Cassie laughed. "You should have called."

"Didn't have time. I was too busy screaming."

"Was it that bad?"

"Do you want the list?"

"No thanks. I have a feeling it might take awhile. I'm gonna go now."

"Next time, I'm going on the date and dad can baby-sit," I muttered.

A/N: whatever you do, don't take lessons from Marco! Please R&R!