Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.
Background music: -
Treats
"Now remember not to wander into the street or pet any strange dogs. Don't go into strangers' houses even if they say they've got more candy. Check with me first. And don't eat any of your candy before checking with me! Sometimes people give bad candy that will make you sick. We've got to stick together because it's already getting dark. Shall we all hold hands?"
The three boys in front of him stared up at him blankly until the redhead, Jack, made a face, scrunching his cheeks and making the war paint on his face squirm. "Why can't you just shut up and let us go already?"
The blonde, dressed as a cowboy complete with wide hat, tasseled vest, and spurred boots and a string of rope hanging from his belt, frowned and reached over to smack Jack. "You shut up, stupid. Don't be rude to Simon."
"Don't be a suck-up, Ralph."
"Don't fight, you two." Simon asserted his power as babysitter. He was, after all, a 'big kid' in their eyes. Wielding all the authority he had as a sixteen year old, he waited until the two reduced to mere glaring. He turned to Roger, who anyone else might have thought was sulking with his dark, broody look. But he was used to having the boy glower although he was not in a bad mood. "Are you ready, Roger?"
The six year old, dressed in all black (Simon wasn't sure what he was supposed to be, and he didn't think his friends did either), just looked at him and nodded, one solid jerk of his head. Jack, whose patience had reached its limit, took this opportunity of Simon's misplaced attention to run down the drive way and attempt a break for freedom.
"Don't fear, Simon!" Ralph shouted, reaching for his lasso and running after the redheaded Indian. "I'll fetch him back for you!" Simon smiled amusedly as the two whooped around the street. Roger followed him soundlessly as they reached the spot where Ralph had successfully caught Jack. "See? I got him!"
"Stop being a jerk, Ralph!"
"Jack, that's not nice," Simon scolded. He loosened the rope around Jack's arms as Ralph crooned in his victory. "Don't call other people names." He shook his head when Jack stuck his tongue out at him. "If you won't behave, we won't go trick-or-treating."
Jack scowled, crossing his arms and tossed his head, making the feathers on the band around his head flutter in indignation. The brown clothes he had thrown together for his costume suggested hard work in secret; scribbled pictures of bison across plains covered his chest and bow strung to his back was made from a branch from his backyard. "Fine."
"Good." Simon beamed, assured by Ralph's matching smile. "Now let's go before the other kids get all the good candy."
[=]
"That stupid woman gave Ralph more candy!"
"Because she likes cowboys better than stupid Indians, duh!"
[=]
"Simon." During a rather long walk across a wide lawn to the next house, with Roger leading the way, Ralph sidled up to Simon, reaching for his hand. Simon felt Jack turn to stare at them. "Do you like my costume? Isn't it good? I picked it out myself! My mom says I look the best in a cowboy outfit!"
Simon shrugged noncommittally. "I think it looks really good, Ralph."
This, apparently, held a hidden message, because the blonde darted over to Jack and cried, "See? Simon likes cowboys better! Like everyone else! Because cowboys are better than Indians. And you look stupid in that outfit, Jack. Everyone knows Indians weren't gingers."
"You're…" Jack quickly closed his mouth. Turning his back, he backpedaled to Simon. "Simon, Ralph's wrong, right? Indians were cooler than cowboys, right? They hunted and built teepees and had fires and everything, so they're cooler, right? They did whatever they wanted, so they're better, right?"
Simon chuckled as Jack tugged at his jacket. "Roger, what do you think?"
Roger turned to them, halfway across the lawn; he glanced at Ralph, then to Jack, who was more of his friend. "I don't care either way."
"But cowboys are so manly!" Ralph interjected, reaching over to tug at Simon's sleeve. The poor green zip-up was going through so much abuse. "They rode horses and chased buffalo and stuff across the prairie thing! They had rodeos and anyway, they chased the Indians out and stuff."
"I don't think they existed in the same time period," Simon said.
"Anyway," Jack retorted, frowning at Ralph, "cowboys are gay. Didn't you hear about that movie?"
"Don't say things like that," Simon chastised, tapping Jack on the head. Ralph nodded feverishly. "That's mean and doesn't apply to all cowboys."
Jack stormed off in a huff, going up to Roger and venting as the dark boy listened. Ralph looked up at Simon with shining eyes. "You like me best, right, Simon?"
"Don't be silly. I like all of you equally." Ralph seemed to pick what he wanted to hear and strutted off, head held high. Simon bit back a laugh. These boys were always such a handful. He watched as Jack pushed Ralph out of the way at the door and Roger ignored the two of them arguing as the man at the door extended the bowl.
[=]
The twins were dressed like fish.
"I don't get it," Ralph said bluntly.
"Pisces, Ralph," Sam said.
"The two fish in the Zodiac," Eric added.
"We were born in March," the two chorused.
"What are you supposed to be?" Sam asked, pointing at Roger. "A black hole?"
"Death," Roger replied. "I like fish."
The twins shrieked and ran away, as Jack and Ralph laughed.
[=]
"Hi, Piggy!"
The boy in question, a rather chubby boy dressed as (Simon was torn between the two) either a professor or a doctor, winced visibly from across the street. "Pygmalion," he called back, looking affronted. "Pygmalion Stout." Ralph hardly looked ashamed for his mistake.
"Did you get a lot of candy?"
"It doesn't matter," Piggy said, as if he couldn't be bothered. "My auntie owns a sweet shop."
"How many houses have you hit?"
"Only a few."
"Why? It's been an hour! Haven't you been trying to get to them all!" Ralph turned to Roger and Jack, and gestured at them. "We've been running across the lawns, even though it's not the polite thing to do!" Personally, Simon did not know why they did not cross the street and settled for shouting across the space to communicate. But Jack and Roger did not seem interested.
"I can't run, because I've got asthma…"
"Sucks to your ass-mar. Why don't you come with us? We'll help you get along faster!"
Piggy surveyed the group. "No thank you," he said coolly, continuing down the street. "I don't really care for Jack very much."
"You're just mad I hit you at dodgeball!" Jack called, smirking rudely. Piggy, obviously offended, started running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. They watched as he didn't go far before stopping and pretending as if nothing happened, wobbling away.
[=]
"Dumb house, giving us toothbrushes." Jack threw the object back at the house. It soared in the air for a couple seconds before sinking into the grass. "And floss." The white packet was thrown as well.
"You know that house has the dentist man," Ralph said. "That other house has candy apples, though." He dragged Roger along; before Jack could follow, Simon made him pick up the rejected items. Simon felt it irrelevant to discuss dental health and decided to take the creative route. Dental floss, he reasoned, could be used to tie things together. Jack looked at him as if he were out of his mind and walked away, shooting Simon furtive glances of disbelief.
[=]
"Good haul this year!" Ralph announced when they got back to the house. He had convinced his mother to let Roger and Jack stay over, as if they were all mutual friends. Simon had the sense that Jack was someone who merely tolerated Ralph, who wanted to be friends with everyone, and Roger was just there because Jack was there. He trusted his intuition. Babysitters had to have good intuition. They had splayed their candy on the kitchen floor. "I don't like Dum-Dums, though. You can have them Jack. They're like you."
It took Jack a moment to comprehend the insult. "Ralph, you can have my Baby Ruths."
"I'll keep all my Smarties."
"They yell at each other a lot," Roger said, matter-of-factly, sorting his own pile of candy as Jack and Ralph shot jabs at each other with the candy, become more and more obscure as they reached Kit-Kats and Hershey bars ("I'll keep the Hersheys cause…cause…"). Simon nodded good-humoredly.
[=]
It was a bit weird, Simon knew, to tuck children in sleeping bags. Ralph, who insisted to also sleep in a sleeping bag to make it seem more like a party, was already fast asleep. Simon had to gently tuck all his limbs back into the bag. Roger was curled up in his own. Jack was resolutely staring up at the ceiling with a focused look on his face.
"Did you eat too much candy?" Simon asked.
"No." Jack kept staring at the dark ceiling. Simon watched him for a moment, before checking his watch. The parents were going to be back from their party in half an hour. It was fifteen minutes past their regular bedtime. Did he make sure they all brushed their teeth? Yes.
"Good night, Jack."
"Here." Simon blinked as Jack pushed a Butterfingers (what did that say about how Jack saw him? He wasn't clumsy, was he?) into his hands. "You didn't get anything. And thank you for coming with us." He withdrew into the sleeping bag and made it quite clear he wanted Simon to leave now. Simon patted the heap of embarrassment.
"Thank you Jack…"
They were sleeping on the floor of Ralph's bedroom. None of them requested a night light but Simon put it on anyway. He was a good babysitter. Making sure he had left them adequately warm and comfortable, he closed the door behind him.
"…but I'm actually deathly allergic to peanuts."
End
[=]
Note: I went tricks-or-treats for probably the last time in my life. And it was fun! There was no one out there to compete with me and my sister. It was actually kind of scary. But never worry; Simon is the best babysitter out there. Originally, I had planned for Jack to be the oldest one, but I think it worked out for the better. And Jack would kill Simon accidentally. Silly boy.