Disclaimer – The usual. I own nothing. sniff I don't even own this laptop.
A/N – This idea was thrown out as a challenge by Sams1ra a while back and it's stuck with me ever since. I'm finally getting around to putting it to paper. So, thanks Darlin'.
Oh, and the reference to "Captain Onehelluvabigbrother" is from the very talented Ridley. I hope you don't mind my borrowing that. And thank you, J.A. Carlton, for getting me to assimilate the word "spocked" into my vocabulary. I love that description.
Giggling, Goo-ing and Eww! That's Just Gross!
Eighteen-year-old Dean sat in a chair mere inches from one of Northhampton Community College's hottest freshman girls, Becky Jones. She was funny, gorgeous, and, well, not the brightest bulb in the box. And it was for that very reason that Dean had gotten the chance to spend his Friday night with her. Unbeknownst to his father and brother, Dean tutored math at the local college. For him, it was easy money, there was no threat of getting beat up afterwards, as was sometimes a hazard when hustling pool or cards, and there were other benefits, too. Dean's ability to explain things very simply to people made him a natural. And Becky needed things explained very simply.
Becky was working on factoring, the good old FOIL method, when Dean's cell rang, not for the first time that night. He gave a small growl of frustration and turned away from Becky, trying to give himself as much privacy as possible without actually getting up from his seat.
"This had better be good."
"Uh…" Sam knew he was treading on thin ice. "How do I warm up the bottle?"
Sam had decided to take a babysitting job to earn a little cash. It was his first time babysitting, but, he had thought, how hard could it be? After all, Dean had been babysitting him for years when their Dad went on hunts. When he first took the job and told Dean about it, a look of amusement and concern, in equal measure, passed over his brother's face. He then tried to dissuade Sam from doing the job. He ribbed Sam about the fact that only girls were babysitters and his new nickname for Sam was going to be Samantha. When this failed to work, Dean asked a few surprisingly serious questions. How many kids are you watching? Two. What are their ages? An infant and a 4 year old girl. There was a pause.
"An infant? Sam, you've never taken care of a baby before."
"So?" Sam asked indignantly.
"It's just… Babies aren't as easy as they seem. There's feeding and changing and they can't talk, so when they cry you can't just ask what's wrong. Are you sure you want an infant to be part of your first babysitting experience?"
With a roll of his eyes, Sam answered, "Dean, I'm 14 and I'm not an idiot." And that settled it.
"Fine," was Dean's only response and the subject didn't come up again until Thursday night, when Sam asked if Dean would drive him over to the house on his way to his date.
"Sam…" Dean sighed in exasperation.
"Do I leave the lid on?"
"Yes, Sam."
"How long do I nuke it?"
"What?" Dean said in alarm. "No-no! Do not nuke it!" He looked apologetically at Becky. Holding up one finger, he shrugged at the door, indicating he was stepping outside but would be right back.
"What? Why not?" When there was no immediate answer from his brother, so Sam continued on, "How am I supposed to heat it then?"
When the door closed behind Dean he felt he was free to talk. After all, He had a reputation to uphold as an unattached, carefree, snarky, hormone-driven boy. He did not want it getting out that he could have tutored a course in Child Care 101 as easily as Calculus. "Sam. Listen. You can't nuke a bottle. Microwaves don't heat evenly and part of the milk would get really hot while other parts would be cool. You have to heat it up on the stove."
"Well… How will I know when it's done?"
"Test it… And, no, you don't have to drink it." He could practically see the look of revulsion on his brother's face. He should have let Sam think he'd have to drink it. It would serve him right for his incessant calling. "Just squirt a little on your wrist, you know, where you take a pulse. The skin is a little more sensitive there, so if it's hot, you know it's too hot for the baby. If it's warm, you're good."
"Okay… And thanks, again." It really had taken a lot for Sam to call Dean the first time. He warred with himself over what to do. His pride and teenage arrogance had told him he was very smart and could figure this out. But another voice told him that the responsible thing to do was make sure he was doing things the right way. After all, mistakes would not just affect him, but the children for whom he was responsible.
"Sammy."
"Yeah, Dean?"
"Life and death. Do you hear me? Life and death."
"Uh… okay. Sorry."
And Dean hung up the phone. He went back into the dorm room - back to Becky. "Sorry, kid brother." Dean said with one of his patented smiles. "We don't let him use the microwave. It never turns out well. He managed to singe his eyebrows off once," he joked. Becky gave a chuckle and patted the seat next to her.
Half an hour later, things were going well for Dean. A little too well, truth be told. With how little actual tutoring he was currently doing, he'd definitely have to come back for more sessions. Sweeeet! And I'm getting paid. He chuckled to himself. Hmmm… Actually, I guess there is the chance of getting beat up – if Becky's boyfriend walks in… But then his phone rang again, interrupting the perfectly balanced… equation… Becky and Dean were working on. With a sigh, he broke away from Becky and looked at the caller ID, though he knew who it would be.
"Life and death, kiddo," Dean growled out.
"I'm sorry, but Andy just threw up. And, no, I didn't burp him because I haven't even fed him yet. The Watson's said they thought he might be getting sick. And Juliet has a friend over. She just showed up and they both insisted that the Watson's knew she'd be sleeping over. I don't know, maybe they just forgot to tell me; they were in kind of a hurry. But I can't find a contact number and I don't remember where they said they were going." The longer Sam talked, the faster his words spilled out. Dean recognized he was sliding into panic mode as the situation was getting out of his control. As Sam talked, Dean disengaged himself completely from Becky and stepped into the hall again.
"Okay. Slow down. Take a deep breath." Dean waited until he heard Sam breathe before continuing. "So the kid threw up and he hasn't been fed yet?"
"Yes."
"And you are now watching three kids?"
"Yes."
"Great, Sammy." Dean thought for a moment while he ran his hand through his hair. Sam needed help. He wouldn't be able to take care of three kids - one of them being sick. He had no experience babysitting. The choice really wasn't all that hard for him to make – let Sam wallow in misery for not listening to Dean and stubbornly taking this job, or leave the lovely Becky for another night and fulfill his role of Captain Onehelluvabigbrother. Family first. "All right," Dean said with yet another sigh. "I'm just finishing up. I'll be there in five. Clean the kid up and take his temperature by the time I get there. What are the girls doing?"
"Uh…"
"Pop in a video for them or something."
Dean walked back into the dorm room and shrugged apologetically to Becky. She looked up at him expectantly. "Family situation. I gotta jet. Same time next week?"
"Sure," she said with a smile and a giggle. Becky dug in her pockets and pulled out the thirty bucks she owed Dean for his time. "Only, next week," she paused briefly as she sidled up to Dean, leaned in toward his face while she pressed the money into his hand, then lowered her voice seductively and continued, "how about no phone."
Inwardly, Dean rolled his eyes. Sorry, honey. Ain't gonna happen. There's no way Dean would remain unreachable for any length of time. But outwardly, he chuckled, said "Sure," with a wink and walked out of the dorm room.
-----
Standing outside the door to the Watson's home, Dean could hear the sounds of two giggling little girls and a baby crying. He knocked and waited for Sam to answer. Instead, he was greeted by a smiling four-year-old girl, with curly brown hair and big brown eyes and her shy, but equally friendly and adorable blonde friend.
"Well hello, ladies. Is my brother, Sam, here?" More giggling ensued before the brunette nodded and invited Dean inside.
"Juliet? Lynn? Where are you?" Sam's voice carried from the left of Dean, apparently in the direction of the dining room.
"Yo, Sam." Dean called out, to let him know he was there.
"Dean!?" Sam said sounding both concerned and relieved. When he got to the front door, he paused and looked at Dean, trying to determine his mood because of the inconvenience Sam had caused him.
Dean did a quick assessment of the situation. The two girls had left the entry of the house almost immediately, going back to playing. He could hear them in another room screaming and laughing and, from the elephantine pitter-pattering, he guessed they were running in circles. Andy was shirtless and wet. Sam was apparently still in the process of cleaning him up.
There was a clatter and the tinkling of breaking glass from the other room, followed by silence and then crying.
Sam was feeling frazzled and didn't know which was worse, a sick baby or the crying girls. Standing in indecision, he let his brother take control.
Dean held out his hands to take Andy and said, "Go."
As soon as Dean had Andy in his hands, he could feel heat radiating off of him. He followed the water drop trail that Sam had left to the first floor half-bath and finished cleaning up the boy. He smiled to himself at the feeling of nostalgia he got. When Andy was cleaned up, he headed in the direction of the noise. The crying had stopped, but he could still hear sniffling. When he got to the family room, he saw there was a video playing on the TV and Juliet and Lynn were cuddled together, half watching the TV and half watching Sam clean up the glass from a broken picture frame.
"Is everyone okay in here?" The two girls looked up at Dean with duplicate expressions of great remorse and a little fear. Juliet nodded.
"Yeah," Sam said, sounding relieved. "Nobody was hurt. This picture just fell of the end table and broke."
Juliet spoke up. "We're really sorry. You're not gonna tell on us are you?"
"Well, I have to tell your Mommy and Daddy. But don't worry," Sam said, "I'll let them know it was an accident and that everyone is okay." And he gave them a reassuring smile.
Juliet gave Sam a small smile in return.
Seeing that Sam had this situation under control, Dean said, "I've gotta get this little guy in some clothes. And…" Dean made a great production out of smelling Andy's diaper and acting as if the smell would kill him, "Woo! This boy needs a change!" It had the effect he was trying for as the withdrawn girls started giggling at his antics. "Which room is his?"
"First door on the left at the top of the stairs. He's in the tractor room."
Dean gave Sam a questioning look, but Sam only shrugged and gave him a look that said, "trust me." "O-kay. Do you know if they have any children's meds? I think Andy's running a temperature."
Sam shook his head, "Nu-uh. I don't know. I mean, I'm sure they do; I just have no idea where."
Dean looked at Juliet. "Juliet, honey, do you know where Mommy and Daddy keep your medicine for when you get sick?"
Juliet at once brightened up some more. She nodded confidently, feeling good that she was able to help do something important. She knew that Sam and his brother weren't mad about what happened. She got up from the couch, slipped her hand into Dean's, and led him up the stairs.
Sam watched his brother being led away and saw him in a new light. He realized that, from the moment Dean had taken Andy, who Sam just noticed wasn't crying any more, he had been completely relaxed around the children. He spoke easily to the girls and they responded just as easily. Dean always boasted that he was good around chicks, but Sam didn't really think that extended to four-year-olds. No, this was something else. Sam knew that Dean had done a lot of his daily care-taking when he was little, he'd just never had opportunity to witness Dean in action before.
Juliet showed Dean exactly where the medicine was which, as Dean suspected, was also where a thermometer was located. "Thank you, sweetheart. I can take it from here. Oh," Dean caught her attention before she walked away, "do you think you could let my brother know I'll still need your brother's bottle?" Again Juliet nodded and smiled and then ran down the stairs to accomplish her new mission.
Andy's temperature was not that high, but Dean gave him the recommended dose of infant Tylenol anyway, then headed for his room. When Dean first turned on the light, he stood still, slightly stunned. The whole room was decorated with John Deere tractor things. The curtains, the trim at the ceiling, the crib sheets, and even a lamp and nightlight were all John Deere. The room, itself, was green with yellow trim. After a few seconds, Dean just shook his head and smiled. "Well, isn't that just… gross." And he shivered. "Poor kid."
He glanced down at Andy, who was getting sleepy now, and was gumming his own hand. He settled himself into the green rocking chair with the John Deere emblem painted on the seat and backrest, and waited for the bottle to come. In a matter of seconds, Juliet and her friend, Lynn, came into the room holding the bottle.
As Juliet handed the bottle to Dean, she asked, "Is he really sick?"
"He's a little bit warm." Seeing the concern in Juliet's eyes, and knowing how it felt to be the older sibling, Dean comforted her, "Don't worry. Your Mommy and Daddy will take good care of him and make sure he feels good as new real soon."
Sam walked into the room. "I was wondering where everyone went." He was still slightly in awe at the ease with which his brother had slipped into the caretaker role again. Though, come to think of it, Dean still acted like a parent at times.
"Well, you should know by now, little brother, that all the pretty girls like to hang out with me," Dean said with a wink and a smile that set the girls giggling again. "So, what do you two like to do?"
"Oh!" Juliet said excitedly, "We like to play dress-up. Mommy even bought me make-up and barrettes and pretty jewelry and all kinds of things."
"You know," Dean said with a smile that Sam could only interpret as "wicked," "I have to take care of Andy right now, but I bet Sam, here, would just looove to play dress-up with you."
The girls started giggling again. Lynn covered her mouth as she looked up at Sam. Sam's eyes narrowed at Dean and he blushed a little, whether from embarrassment or anger, Dean couldn't tell. On the other hand, the girls were in a good mood now, and even Sammy wasn't inexperienced enough to refuse the girls and risk causing them to cry.
"But he's a boy," Lynn managed to say through fits of laughter.
"Oh, I know. But I bet you two could make him look really pretty anyway." This sent a fresh wave of laughter that dropped the girls to the floor. "Go on now, while I put Andy to sleep." Dean smirked at Sam. Sam didn't honestly think he was going to get away with spoiling his evening without some kind of payback.
Sam gave Dean a sarcastic smile and turned toward the door. "Come on girls. Let's get pretty." He heard Dean snort in laughter as he walked out the door.
Thirty minutes later, Andy was fed, burped, changed and fast asleep in his crib. Dean walked into the hall in time to see Juliet dash out of, what he assumed was, her bedroom. Curious, he waited; and a few seconds later, she came running back at full speed. Only now she was holding a camera.
When Juliet saw Dean standing in the hall, she said, "We're gonna take his picture!" She was absolutely thrilled and quite proud. She grabbed Dean's hand again to lead him to where Sam was.
For the second time that night, Dean walked into a bedroom and was stunned into silent immobility. Sam heard him come in the room and glared up at him. Dean's jaw had fallen open and a huge grin was slowly spreading itself across his face. Sam's too-long hair was a mass of about twenty barrettes. Some of the hair had just been twisted and some of it was in small braids. Both the twists and braids had barrettes attached to the ends of the hair and clicked together whenever Sam moved his head. At other places, the barrettes were right at his head, making tufts of his hair stick out at odd angles. They had put big, glittery, light-up, princess clip-on earrings on his ears. He had lovely fire engine-red lipstick smudged about his lips, bright pink blush on his cheeks, which did nothing to hide his own crimson flush of mortification, and blue eye shadow on his eyelids. They had even painted his nails and given him a pink feather scarf. He looked like a very ugly, blind, drag-queen.
"Wow," was all Dean could say. "Wow. That blue… really brings out your eyes."
"Say cheese!" Juliet was bouncing and squealing in delight. And Lynn was clapping and giggling excitedly.
"Smile, Sammy," Dean said, trying very hard not to laugh.
Sam forced a grin while the picture was taken, then said, "All right girls, I think it's about time for bed."
"Awwww," came the simultaneous, disappointed responses.
Dean continued to chuckle as he took over the girls' nighttime routine while Sam washed his face and started the arduous task of taking all the barrettes out of his hair.
When the girls were tucked into bed, Dean leaned down and, in a conspiratorial voice, he said, "So, we're gonna get a copy of that picture, right?"
Juliet giggled and nodded.
"Okay. Good night, ladies." Dean walked out of the room, letting Sam have the final good night.
As Sam walked out of the room, flipping the light switch as he went, Juliet said, "Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for playing with us. You're the best babysitter ever. I hope you babysit us again."
Sam smiled bashfully and nodded, "My pleasure. Good night."
Juliet and Andy's parents arrived home just a short time later. They weren't surprised to see Dean, as they knew he would be picking Sam up, though neither Sam nor Dean felt it necessary to tell them he was there most of the night. Dean went outside to the car as the Watson's got the evening run-down about the broken picture frame and that Andy was indeed sick. They thanked Sam, paid him and closed the door behind him.
"So…" Dean started.
"I am never babysitting again." Sam crossed his arms in that annoying teenage pout that he had mastered about a year back.
"Oh, it wasn't that bad. Admit it, you had fun," Dean chuckled. "You did good. A few more times, and you'll be an old pro. Think of it as training for motherhood."
"Dean! I'm a guy. I won't be a mother."
Dean snorted, "Okay, Samantha. Oh, and you might want to talk to your beautician, 'cause Damn girl!"
Sam punched Dean in the arm, huffed and slouched further into the front seat of the Impala. "You're not going to tell anyone about this, right?"
"No, no. Of course not."
"Good."
"I won't need to say anything, once I get that picture." Dean laughed again. This was just too easy.
"Dean!"
The rest of the ride home, Sam vacillated between angry silence and trying to find ways to bribe Dean into keeping silent. Dean thought the experience was well worth having to leave his tutoring session early.
-----
Later that night, John was sitting at the dining room table doing research for the hunt he was going to in the morning. Sam pulled out his books and set them on the table. He liked to get his homework done on Friday night, leaving the rest of the weekend free. It was only ten o'clock, so he figured he could get it done, despite the late start.
Dean walked past them on his way to the kitchen for a snack. "Geek."
"Jerk." Came Sam's automatic response.
Dean paused, at the table so Sam looked up to see what he was doing. He got nervous when he saw an evil smirk play across Dean's lips and a malevolent glint in his eyes. Dean cleared his throat. "Uh, Dad?"
Sam shook his head "no." He didn't know what Dean was up to, but it wouldn't be good.
John looked up. He, too, must have caught the mischievous look on Dean's face because he adopted a wary expression. "What, son?"
"You might want to have a talk with your protégé." Dean gestured at Sam with his head.
John did a quick survey of his youngest. Then he saw it. John spocked his eyebrow and looked back up at Sam. "Sam? Is there something you want to tell me?"
"Huh?" Sam was still confused.
Dean reached for Sam's hand and swung it as if they were young school girls on a playground. "Oh Sam," Dean said in his best southern belle voice. "Don't worry. You can tell us anything."
Sam pulled away from Dean and as he did, the light from the overhead glinted off his fingernails in a strange way. He examined his nails and realized, feeling mortified for the second time that night, that he'd washed off all the make-up, but the glittery pink nail polish remained.
Seeing the light of revelation on Sam's face, and the crimson on his face, was all Dean needed to burst out laughing and finish heading to the kitchen.
"Wha… I… I didn't…" Sam stammered.
John just snorted and shook his head and went back to his research. "I don't want to know," he said with a wry smile. "Just get it off before school."
Sam didn't get his homework done that Friday night. He spent the rest of the evening in the bathroom, scraping and peeling the nail polish off his nails, and then headed to bed. Babysitting was definitely not for him.
-----
End
A/N Thanks again to my usual support team, J.A. Carlton and Mom. I greatly appreciate your help and support, and for helping push out a much better final product than when it starts. Thanks.