This is the last single request I had on tumblr (the truly last one I'd like to do at least two or three chapter on). Thanks to everyone who's read these over the years. I hope this one is a fun one to go out on.

Cobra/Wendy brotp A stranger in the house (anon)

"Pst."

"..mmwha"

"Pst..Erik."

"Whattayawantgoway."

"Erik…I know you're awake…Erik!"

Wearily, blearily, Erik's single eye slid open the barest amount. A small, short figure stood next to where he was sleeping, ominously hovering over him. The little girl he was currently babysitting was now no more than a dark figure come to terrorize him at…Erik slowly turned his head to catch the glow of the LED lights of the clock… 1:00 am. Cool. He scrunched his eye shut and turned away from the person bothering him at the ungodly hour. "Nope. No hear. Only sleep."

"Erik. This is important." The six-year-old whisper hissed (a rare skill, especially for a six-year-old). "There's someone in the house. I saw them."

"It's an old house, it creaks. And your freaky cat," the one that always seemed to glare and hiss at him when Wendy wasn't looking, "Carla. It probably knocked down something or whatever." Grandine certainly wasn't paying him waaay below minimum wage to deal with whatever was going on right now.

"No, you're wrong! Carla's been asleep on my bed all night. I went down to get a snack because I was hungry, but I saw someone moving around and bumping into stuff while saying bad words. I think…" he swore he could hear her eyes start tearing up, "I think it's one of those robbers that Grandine was talking about."

Erik released an impressively long groan, only muffled by the pillow he wisely chose to place over his face. "Wendyyyy," he began, still muffled, "it's probably just, just…"

"Just what?" she questioned.

"Just a…ghost?"

Wendy snorted. Erik was almost impressed by how peeved she sounded. "It is not. If you don't want to do anything, then…" she gulped. "I will. I'll yell and scream and scare them to death." A pause. "The person, not the ghost. Ghosts are already dead."

Erik lifted the pillow off his face and stared at her. She appeared determined (as determined as a dark outline could be) but he heard the quavering in her voice and could guess she was probably shaking not quite as slightly as she'd like. He sighed. Why couldn't he get babysitting jobs that went normally?

"If I go down to help get rid of this…presence…will you go back to bed, no complaints?"

"Only if you give me half your babysitting money if it's not a ghost."

She's been listening to Richard too much. "Fine, whatever. Deal." He wasn't exactly making bank anyway.

As much as Erik wanted it to be a ghost, Wendy had been right about one thing: there really were reports of thefts around the neighborhood. So, just in case it really was a robber/weirdo, he grabbed the few things he could use as weapons: his smartphone that would blast annoying disco music loud enough to blow out his AND the attacker's eardrums with the press of a button along with a trusty bat. He also had a switchblade he kept as a pocket knife, but on the off chance any authority figures were involved, he knew it'd just be more trouble to explain why he always carried one.

He told Wendy to strictly stay upstairs, but she insisted on coming with him. He nearly threw her into her own room and locked the door before she insisted that he would hear her if she got into trouble. She probably more than anything wanted to prove him wrong about the ghost theory, even though he knew she was still scared. Erik finally gave up, merely warning her to stay behind him and to run out the door and scream as loud as she could if something went wrong. Then, together, they headed downstairs.

The house was old, but Grandine tried to hide this fact by repainting and gutting most of the older appliances for new ones. One thing that was never quite replaced was the wooden flooring of the house. The creaky, impossible-to-placate flooring. Attempting to go down the stairs, especially in the dark, was an invitation to disaster. Except if one was Wendy, Erik supposed, as she nimbly stepped in just the right places to appease the step gods to get away without a creak. Erik, on the other hand, practically slid down the banister to avoid making any extra sounds.

After they cleared the stairs, since the house was shrouded in darkness, Erik focused extra hard on any unnatural sounds. He'd always had good ears (too good, his friends said) so he used them to his advantage in this situation. One hand gripped the bat, the other holding the smartphone just as tight. Wendy stuck close behind him, her shaky breath a constant reminder that she was next to him. He tried to hear beyond that, beyond the sounds of the outside, beyond the air conditioning and shifting of the house, beyond the sound of the refrigerator door squeaking open…

His mouth pulled to a straight line, and he felt the undeniable urge to groan. Swallowing, he led Wendy around a corner until they stopped right outside the kitchen area. Grandine always said to leave a small light on in the kitchen, in case someone wanted a midnight snack but didn't want to turn on a bright light (Grandine, much like her granddaughter, was big into midnight snacks). Well, that light was on, but accompanying it was the soft glow of the refrigerator light, illuminating a lumpy mound peering inside it. The refrigerator door hit the mound's upper half, but unless ghosts could suddenly chew and chomp just like regular mortals, then the noises he was hearing meant whoever it was was definitely…corporeal.

Wendy pinched him and he almost hissed. Looking at her, he could just barely make out her eyes in the dark, but he knew what the expression was meant to convey. I told you so.

Yeah, you did. And now look who has to deal with it! Erik bit the inside of his mouth to keep from screaming. It was fine. It would be fine. He had the advantage of surprise, and whoever this robber/weirdo was, they were obviously more invested in chowing down than noticing their surroundings. All Erik had to do was give them a good whack, tie them up, and then…well they'd go from there. He motioned Wendy back, to which she thankfully obliged, and then began sneaking behind the unsuspecting (food) thief.

Inch by inch he made his way nearer, slowly, carefully…

As he moved he made out more of the figure, which he could now see was encased in a large hoodie that covered even the back of the head. Added to that baggy pants and sloppily tied tennis shoes, the figure remained a nearly featureless mound even as he moved closer. Erik positioned the bat to his side, planning where exactly to aim for maximum damage without accidentally causing a homicide. Careful, careful….

The figure turned so one eye looked directly at Erik. One bright red eye. Shock rippled through the figure as Erik's steady hand disappeared and panic seized his heart. He didn't even pause to think before giving a mighty battle cry and–trying his best to salvage the situation–swinging at the intruder.

"Wait, Erik, it's me-YAAAA!" The intruder screamed as Erik swung, but between the panic and the last-minute realization, Erik forgot about the bat, swinging with his other arm.

The smartphone arm.

As the phone bounced off the intruder's head, the Bee Gee's "Staying Alive" blasted forth at a volume loud enough to wake the dead. Or at least loud enough to incite another scream of surprise from all involved.

"Macbeth?"

"Erik?"

The former held an icepack just above the eyebrow, a bruise slowly coloring the top of his head, while the latter crossed his arms and looked at his friend in displeasure. In the middle, Wendy stood, the fear in her eyes replaced with a curiosity that threatened to bubble out as evidenced by her fidgety hands.

"Just…what were you doing here at," Erik checked his now cracked phone screen, "1:30 in the morning eating cheese out of Grandine's fridge?"

Macbeth yawned, then winced. "Well, I thought maybe you'd be up still. You know how it is for babysitting, you always have to stay up late."

"What! No way! You won't grow up big and strong if you don't sleep-eek!" Wendy's outburst was followed by a glare from Erik. Of course, he would have been asleep…if someone hadn't woken him up. He shook his head. No, no, he shouldn't blame Wendy. Not when the real problem was right in front of him.

"Ok, first of all, I'm pretty sure that's just you since you're practically nocturnal. Second, I'm in charge all weekend, so no way am I staying up 48 hours for this crap, and lastly…" he took a breath and pinched his temples, "why didn't you just text me you were coming?"

"Didn't have my phone."

"Call me?"

"You think I know any numbers in my phone?"

Erik ground his teeth. "You only have ten numbers in your phone."

"Meh, still," came the lazy reply. Erik forced himself to stay calm.

"How did you get in? Please don't tell me you broke a window. Grandine will kill me."

"Nah, I just opened the front door."

"Huh?"

Macbeth pointed around the corner, where the front door lay. Erik warily moved there and turned the knob. Sure enough, it slid open with ease. He lay there for a heartbeat, completely aghast before bitter realization crept in.

"I…I went out to get some mail that came late…and then I got distracted. Oh…no…" Mumbles of disbelief and regret that sounded like the soft wails of an unknown spirit drifted around the corner to where Macbeth and Wendy still stood.

Macbeth sighed. And everyone said he was the scatterbrained one. He decided to wait until morning to tell him about the strange trio of men he'd scared off just down the road. It just wouldn't do to kill the babysitter before Grandine could do it herself.

Tiny hands clasped the hem of his hoodie. "Mr. Macbeth?"

"Just Macbeth kid, I'm not that old. You remember me, right? One of Erik's friends."

"Yeah…" Although the look on her face claimed otherwise. "Um, I was wondering…"

"Yes?"

"Is there any cheese left? I'm kinda hungry. I never got my snack from the fridge."

"Kid," Macbeth grinned, "Now you're talking. Don't worry, there's plenty left. We use that sausage too, and then we need to finish up with a dessert."

"Yay! I know just the thing! And if we run out, I can buy more tomorrow with Erik's money! He owes me since you weren't a ghost."

This kid's been hanging around Richard too much. Macbeth chuckled. "Well, what are we waiting for?" he said as the two of them ransacked the fridge for all the snacks their hearts desired. Erik eventually gained enough composure to lock the door and return, but not before the two had stuffed themselves, leaving him to explain to Gradine the next day exactly why she was now out of cheese, sausage, and the special strawberry shortcake she'd been saving.