Disclaimer: "Scarecrow and Mrs. King" is the property of Warner Bros. and Shoot the Moon Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: This story is a response to Lanie Sullivan's challenge to fill in or explain a gap left by SMK's great writers. I'd like to thank Lanie for offering up a creative challenge and then beta reading this story for me.

Major Robert Clayton strode purposefully through the entrance to one of the mess halls that were designated for enlisted men, causing a few stragglers to hurry out after a flurry of salutes. He walked into the main dining area and immediately spotted the man that he was hoping to find there.

"Dorsey," he barked, startling the other man who'd been intent on clearing the last table. "You're an officer; you have people under you to do that."

"That may be, Bob, but since the brass doesn't see fit to give me the manpower I need-"

"Are you questioning the judgment of your superiors? We're here to serve, not to question the orders that we're given," he interjected as he drew closer to where the other man continued to clear the table.

"Gimme a break, I'm not one of the new recruits that you've been bullying since you were posted here. You aren't even here for a full month and you've already developed a reputation for being-"

"Spare me the adjectives," he interrupted, with a wave of his uniform hat. "I didn't come here for a personality assessment."

"Well, that's good because we've been friends for too long for me to sugarcoat my opinions…I speak my mind and let the chips fall where they may." He completed his task and turned to face his fellow officer. "What brings you here? You aren't here for breakfast…we stopped serving over an hour ago and you're a long way from officer's country."

"I am here for breakfast," Clayton stated gruffly as he seated himself at the table. "I realize that you're no longer serving, but I'd appreciate it if you would scrape something together for me?"

"You're never late for breakfast or anything else, for that matter."

"I'm not late!" His increasingly rigid posture and sour facial expression, only served to amuse his old buddy.

"No?" Barney made a great show of looking at his watch and then glancing around the empty room.

"Alright, I can see that you're enjoying this, but it isn't my fault that I missed breakfast…he's to blame."

"He? Your nephew?"

"Yes, Skip is totally undisciplined. I don't know what I'm going to do with him…he certainly isn't officer material."

"And he's how old," Barney asked while fighting the urge to laugh at his friend's obvious exasperation with the boy.

"He'll be eight next month." I haven't even had him with me for a full year…how am I going to survive ten more years like this?

"So he's not quite eight and you've already decided that he doesn't have what it takes to make a good officer. Is that why you still haven't let me meet him?"

"Don't make light of the situation. I'm an excellent judge of men and he-" Clayton's sentence was cutoff when his chum could no longer contain his laughter. "Stop laughing," he demanded while rising from the table.

"I'm laughing because you're being ridiculous. He isn't one of your men; he's a little boy, and you-"

"I'm doing my duty by him. Diaper duty. You don't understand what I'm…never mind, I shouldn't have come here, I can do without breakfast." He grabbed his hat and stalked off. Barney, knowing that there was no point in trying to reason with him at that point, watched his departure in silence. He picked up the last of the breakfast trays and carried them to the kitchen. As he placed them beside a large sink, he thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He proceeded quietly in that direction and peered over the countertop in front of him, a pair of large hazel eyes locked with his own. A little boy, kneeling with a sausage link clutched in each hand, smiled up at him.

"Hi, I know I'm a little late for breakfast. Don't worry about me…I…um, helped myself." He rose quickly and stood at attention.

"I can see that."

"You better get Major Clayton his breakfast, he doesn't like to be kept waiting," the boy stated knowingly.

"You must be Skip," Barney observed with a warm smile, as he guessed the identity of this second latecomer.

"That isn't my name; it's just what he calls me." The boy began to chomp on the sausage with a sullen expression on his face, as his posture began to relax.

"Well, I'm glad to finally meet you. My name is Barney, what is your name?"

"Lee. It's nice to meet you, Sir." He hastily wiped his greasy hand on his pants, and extended it to shake the older man's hand as his uncle had taught him to do. After a surprisingly strong handshake, a frown returned to the boy's face. "You really should get him his breakfast…he's already in a bad mood."

"I noticed that; I ticked him off also. He decided to skip…err…pass on breakfast."

"So, you're in trouble with him too?"

"He's not happy with me at the moment, but there isn't much he can do about it. He'll calm down, he always does…it's just a matter of how long it will take before he does."

"He says he'll be in meetings most of the day although I don't believe him, so he probably won't come back here," he speculated while eyeing the remnants of the breakfast that had been served.

"Since your uncle is working today, how do you plan to spend the day? Did you give your babysitter the slip?"

"I'm too old to need a babysitter. I've had a few, but I make sure that none of them come back for a second time." The pride in his voice at that statement was unmistakable. "I haven't decided what I'm gonna do today yet."

"Would you like to have a full breakfast while you're thinking it over?"

"Sure!" He reached up and snagged a piece of toast. Barney watched him and frowned.

"I'm sorry, Sir, what may I have?"

"There's no need for you to call me 'sir' when we're alone. You may have whatever you'd like, but if I were you I'd let me make you some fresh toast. I bet that's cold and soggy by now."

"Thanks! I'm very hungry."

"You're a growing boy and you've got a long day ahead of you."

"Yeah, since it's Saturday I don't have school, I can do whatever I want to ALL day long." The dejected look on his face belied the words he'd spoken. Barney placed two slices of bread into a nearby toaster and then walked towards the refrigerator.

"Would you like milk, OJ or both?"

"Both…please."

"If you have time, maybe, you could give me a hand around here for an hour or so after you've eaten? We can get to know each other. I've been posted here for a while; I could tell you about some of the best places to explore. How does that sound to you?"

"I think I'd like that." I think I'd like that a whole lot, but I'll have to get to know him much better before I tell him that. A guy can't be too careful about who he gets close to.