A/N: Think of this is a distant prequel/sequel (whichever way you look at it) to my first FOP fic "Twas the Wish Before Christmas". I know a few people wanted to know how the heck Vicky managed to wind up married to Chip Skylark so here's a little story about how it all began...

Behind the Musician

Chapter One: Evil Babysitter for Hire

It was approximately five days after her eighteenth birthday when she got the news. The terrible, scary, life altering news. Vicky's father...had lost his job.

"What do ya mean you lost your job?!" the reddish-orange haired teen demanded.

"You're outta work Daddy?" Tootie gasped.

"I'm afraid so pumpkin." their father sighed. "The business is closing down. Everyone employee there is looking for new work now."

"Well I'm sure we'll manage somehow dear," his wife tried to assure him.

"Yeah Daddy," the twelve-year-old in glasses beamed, "you're a really good worker. Somebody will hire you. I just know it!"

"Oh come off it squirt!" Vicky snapped. "Did you hear what Dad just said?!"

Tootie turned to her sister with wide eyes.

"Every stinkin' employee there got fired today!" the teen growled, "That means that Dad's got tons of competition for a new job!"

"So?" Tootie inquired, still not getting her sister's point.

"So what if Dad can't find somewhere to work? Huh?! What if it's weeks, months, or even a year before he can find more work?!" Vicky continued.

"Now honey," her father spoke up in a shaky tone, "I'm sure it won't be that long before I-"

"And what about the bills huh?!" Vicky's rant continued, "How will pay our gas, electric, water, cable TV, or phone bills?!"

Tootie was starting to look nervous.

"And then there's the groceries!" she went on, "Doido's vet bills! Doctor visits! Teeth cleanings! Braces adjustments! Trips to the optometrist! And all my magazine subscriptions!!!"

"Vicky dear," her mother spoke up, "if you're so worried about how we're going to pay the bills then why don't you help out by-"

Vicky spun around to her mom with narrowed eyes, "By what?"

Her mother visibly flinched under the weight of her stare, "By—uh—by...getting a job?"

Tootie quickly brought up her hands to cover her ears.

"I HAVE A JOB!!!" Vicky shouted at the top of her lungs.

After the ringing in her ears died down her mother nodded, "Yes Vicky honey, we know. It's just...well...it's just that..."

"What your mother is trying to say sweetie is that-" her father cut in but was sure to choose his words carefully, "-babysitting may be a fine way for a sixteen-year-old girl to earn some extra spending money. But it's no way for a high school graduate to earn a living."

Hearing this Tootie brought her hands back to her ears and slowly started to back out of the room (a.k.a. the danger zone).

Flames instantly sprang up in Vicky's fuchsia eyes. Her hands balled into fists and she hunched over as if she were some wild jungle cat about to spring forward and attack.

"I LIKE BABYSITTING!!!" she screeched, "And for your information I plan on making a living off of it!"

"How dear?" her mother asked timidly.

"I'm glad you asked Mother," Vicky smirked, pulling a rolled up piece of paper from her back pocket and holding it out for her parents to admire, "Behold! Loveable Vicky's Center for Precious Gifts From Above!"

Her parents stared wide eyed and speechless at the drawing. It seemed to be some elaborate blueprint plans for a daycare center.

After waiting a moment for their shock to wear off Vicky continued, "I plan to make a career out of babysitting brats—I mean—children!"

Tootie gulped, it seemed that future generations would be suffering under Vicky's harsh care-giving techniques. Like shoveling manure out of their kitchen sinks.

"This is all very nice pumpkin," her father ventured, "but won't this place cost a lot of money to build?"

"Oh I've already taken care of that." Vicky smirked thinking of the savings account she'd opened for stashing all the loot she'd made off of babysitting kids and milking their gullible parents dry. "I've almost got enough money. By the time I reach twenty Loveable Vicky's Center for Precious Gifts From Above will be well under construction. Heck, I might even throw in some robot Vickys to make house calls!"

Like anyone would want one of those things watching their kids. Tootie thought bitterly.

"So I guess you intend to keep babysitting until you've raised enough money then?" her mother guessed dejectedly.

"Yep." Vicky nodded.

"Well that's okay honey," her father forced a grin trying to remain optimistic, "It probably isn't necessary for you to have a full time job yet anyway. I'm sure that I'll be back to work in no time."

Two months later...

Tootie happily bounded down the stairs on her way out carrying a small stack of books under her arm.

She passed by the entrance to the kitchen on her way and stopped when she saw her big sister sitting at the dinner table flipping through the want ads.

"Hey twerp," Vicky muttered without looking up, "Where are you going?"

"To the library." Tootie answered holding up her stack of books. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing?" Vicky grumbled taking another sip from her coffee mug, "Dad's still unemployed so that means SOMEBODY around here has to get a job and start helping Mom pay all these bills."

Her little sister came over and noticed the pile of bills and overdue notices lying on the table. Apparently Vicky couldn't put it off any longer; their family was going into debt. She'd have to start pitching in or they'd all be moving out.

Not wanting to stick around and listen to her sister gripe further Tootie edged out of the room and bolted through the door.

Sighing Vicky sat back in her chair and glared down at the newspaper. "This is ridiculous!" she exclaimed, "I'm not qualified to do any of this junk! I'm a babysitter. That's all I do! It's what I'm good at!! But it's not enough to pay off all these stupid bills!"

Groaning she snatched the paper off the table, wadded it up, and tossed it into the garbage can on her way into the living room. "I'll just watch some TV." she told herself as she fished the remote out from between the couch cushions.

The first channel she flipped to was some boring documentary on the discovery of some subspecies of sea urchin. The next was a channel devoted entirely to weather. But she finally paused when she came to one of her favorite channels, a channel for music's biggest stars. The current show was about the ever popular teen singing sensation Chip Skylark.

Vicky scowled; she didn't know why she left that jerk's posters up on her walls. Sure he used to be her biggest crush, heck she'd even almost married him! Of course, it wouldn't have been a marriage of mutual consent but who cares about some trivial detail like that? Anyways, it turned out that he was just some broke dreamer with a flawless voice and sparkly smile. The record company paid for everything, man, that guy had it made. But had she married him she would've automatically been responsible for half his debt.

Debt, hm, there was a word she was sick of. She'd already had to dip into her savings a few times to help her parents cover the bills. At this rate she could kiss her life's earnings good-bye within a year. She'd cancelled nearly every magazine subscription she had, started babysitting twenty-four seven whenever there was an unsupervised child available, and needless to say...this was all driving her nuts!

She was distracted from her wandering thoughts when a showy commercial came on during the break starring who other than—Chip Skylark.

"Hey all you fans out there!" he sang out, practically shoving his face into the camera.

"Dork." Vicky muttered.

"Have I got great news for you!" he continued. "I'm looking for a new member of my crew to join the team and travel with me on my upcoming concert tour this summer!"

Vicky's ears perked up though her expression remained that of someone bored to death.

"So if you think that you've got what it takes to jam with the band be at the Cellebra Grand Hotel for a chance at a job interview this Saturday! Good luck music fans!" and with a flash of his trademark shiny teeth smile he danced off stage.

Some guy from the record company popped up to explain the rules and regulations. "You must be at least eighteen to apply. Proof of identity is required. All applicants are to arrive at 9 AM sharp. Chip Skylark will not actually be present for the interviewing process."

"Figures." Vicky huffed, "But wait a minute," she thought about the job, "personal assistant? That's kind of like being a babysitter for the stars. I mean what? I run a few errands, tell him he isn't a conceited flashy dork, and make sure he doesn't do anything too stupid while he's out in public."

This was sounding more and more like something right up her alley. "And the Cellebra Grand Hotel is only a forty-five minute drive from here. Yeah, I could be there by nine tomorrow morning. And I'm definitely eighteen. My summer isn't looking too packed...provided the pay is good."

She considered this for a few more minutes before rising to her feet with a look of determination etched across her previous grim features. "Alright! I'll do it!!"

Saturday morning at the Cellebra Grand Hotel...

"Oh I just love Chip Skylark!!" a blonde teen wearing WAY too much make-up squealed, "You've just gotta hire me! I have every album he's ever made! I listen to them fifty times a day wearing my Chip Skylark concert t-shirts and eating my Frosty Chip-Os for breakfast!"

The board of interviewers stared dumbfounded at the obsessive teen. "Well uh," the head interviewer, a man from the record company named Tony Platinum, spoke up while crossing her name off his list, "we'll just be getting back to you on that. Thank you."

The girl batted her mint green eyes a few times; she really looked like she lived off that frosted breakfast cereal...and about ten gallons of caffeine. "You'll get back to me? I don't understand. Does that mean I got the job? Oh I really hope that I got the job! I just love Chip Skylark! I own all his merchandise! Chip Skylark pillowcase, Chip Skylark posters, Chip Skylark mini toaster oven, Chip Skylark bubblegum flavored mouthwash..."

"Security," Tony sighed as he lowered his black shades and pressed a red button beneath the desk.

Two big goons dressed in purple jackets came in and 'escorted' the crazed girl out of the building.

"Next," Tony said in an emotionless tone.

"This isn't going so well," a female interviewer with a tight brown bun and round black sunglasses sighed. They all looked the same in that respect, all wearing shades and fancy high priced business suits. The only thing that made Tony the top man of the group was the fact that he was the official manager to Chip Skylark, and the head of the record company that handled all his financial needs...and reaped the benefits of his album sales.

"I know what you mean," Tony sighed twirling his blond ponytail and yawning as they waited for the next applicant to arrive. "They're all a bunch of squealy teenage girls. All they want is the chance to meet Chip Skylark. I don't think that there's a single person out that who's actually qualified to handle this job."

"Um...hello?" a reddish-orange haired teen asked as she poked her head in the doorway.

"Ah yes...Vicky?" Tony asked looking down at his clipboard. "Well come in and have a seat there. Let's get this over with shall we?"

"Okay," Vicky shrugged. Her reaction was rather unexpected by the board, usually it had taken the others no more than ten seconds to start in on a rant about how much they worshipped Chip Skylark or envied his talents...or fashion sense.

"So," Tony began, "you're eighteen I presume?" Vicky nodded. "And what sort of experience do you have in the work field young lady?"

"Well um..." Vicky tugged at the collar of her green turtleneck; she was feeling kind of stuffy in the bluish-gray suit she had on "...I've done a lot of babysitting back in Dimmsdale. And I...uh...I'm really experienced with handling responsibility and taking care of brats—I mean—other people so..."

Tony quirked an eyebrow, "Wait a minute. You're name is Vicky right?"

"Right."

"Vicky," the female interviewer asked, "as in 'Icky Vicky' from the song?"

Vicky's teeth gritted together and a vein in her forehead pulsed, "Yes."

Tony and the other interviewers looked highly amused by this new piece of information. "So then, why are you applying for a job where you'd be working directly for Chip Skylark?"

"Because my father is out of work and my family needs the money okay." she hissed.

"Well how can we be sure that you won't try to kidnap our star client and force him into marriage again?" the lady with the tight bun asked before she and the others burst into laughter.

Balling her fists tightly Vicky pushed her chair back and got up to leave. I don't have to sit here and take this from these corporate geeks! she thought angrily, What the heck do they know about anything?!

Tony raised a hand to stop her, "Wait a moment Ms.—uh—Vicky!"

Spinning around on her heel Vicky was three seconds away from telling these jerks exactly what she thought of them and their precious money making client.

"What?!"

Folding his hands in front of himself on the desk so as to look more professional Tony spoke in a thoughtful voice, "You just said that you wanted the job because your father had been out of work and you needed to help support your family."

"Yeah so? What of it?!" she demanded hotly.

"So," Tony leaned forward and brought his hands up so that his chin was resting on them, "how would you like a job?"

Every other occupant in the room had they eyes bulging and their jaws dropped.

"Huh?" Vicky asked, this was unexpected.

"You aren't serious." The female interviewer asked in unmasked disbelief.

"I'm quite serious," Tony grinned, "Vicky, how would like to be the new personal assistant to teen singing sensation Chip Skylark?"

Vicky felt her knees grow wobbly; she needed to sit down, needed to think. "I—um—well I-"

"Now wait just a minute," another male interviewer with slicked back black hair objected, "you can't just give her the job. What makes her better qualified?!"

"Simple," Tony responded in a matter-of-fact tone, "every other applicant we've interviewed has been obsessed with our client. They're either after fame, money, or some other means of personal gain. But Vicky here is supposedly in this solely to help out her family. Now that's a safe enough reason. Chip doesn't get harassed, we don't have to worry about her trying to ride his coattails to fame and fortune, and if things don't work out...she's fired."

"But what about her lack of skills." the brunette persisted.

"What lack of skills?" Tony shrugged, "She said she was an experienced babysitter. And what is a personal assistant if not a babysitter to the stars?"

There was a low murmur from the board of interviewers. Tony just retained his relaxed position, leaning forward on his hands, and looking completely confident in his decision. Vicky on the other hand was on the edge of her seat. Sweat was rolling down from her forehead. She really needed this job. From what she'd heard out in the waiting room the pay was supposedly twice that of any local job, if you didn't mind varying work hours.

Please...please...please... she silently begged.

The murmuring died down and the board seemed to be unanimous with their decision.

"Well?" Tony asked the brunette.

Taking off her sunglasses the woman sighed with a faint smile, "Well Mr. Platinum, you're his manager. If you say that this young lady is best suited for the job, then it's hers."

"Splendid," Tony grinned and turned to Vicky holding out a large packet of papers, "flip through this tonight. We'll have you come in tomorrow bright and early at eight 'o clock sharp. I'll personally be here to show you the ropes."

Vicky graciously accepted the packet from the thirty-something-year-old manager and replied eagerly, "Yes sir Mr. Platinum. Thanks! You won't regret this!"

Tony watched her rush through the door hugging the packet (which as it turns out was her contract) to her chest. "I wonder if that girl has any clue of what she's just gotten herself into?" he smirked.
Amanda/Artiste: So Vicky's finally got a job and a way to help support her family. Hey, it's not like she wants a full time job right now. But it's help out or ship out and she certainly isn't about to do that. Remember that she's starting to realize that taking her loved ones for granted isn't going to lead her anywhere worth being in life so she's trying to shape up and be a bit less...icky. Just a bit. ;-) Next Chapter: It's Vicky's first day on the job. Will it be her last? And how will Chip react when he sees that the 'wackadoo' from two years back is now his new personal assistant? Review and you shall see!