First one of teen Jackie in a while. She's about 16 in this one, and it was actually written a while ago, hence the 1st Person, I just got around to giving it a little polish.

This references back to a point in Black Sheep where Jackie tells Alexander that she used to babysit. This is who she used to babysit. Also be aware that I don't have much experience in this field. I've worked with kids, I've taught kids, but I've never babysat them, because in reality I'm not all that fond of kids (why do you think I hardly ever write from a Guardian's perspective?). The only reason I interact with them at all is because they intersect with other things I do.
That being said, I think Jackie is a lot better with kids than I am, especially later in life.

"Ah, Jackie, there you are."

I looked up from my book and up at Mrs Bennett, who was standing just in front of me from my position on the park bench.

"Why were you looking for me?" I asked, closing the book.

"I'm out of town tomorrow night, and Jamie's staying at Monty's tomorrow, so there's no one to look after Sophie for the night. You're a responsible teenager."

My eyes went wide as I got what she was saying. "You want me to look after Sophie? For the whole night?"

"If you would. I understand if you have homework to do, but I'm not sure who else to ask."

I opened my mouth to politely turn her down, I have no idea how to look after kids after all. Then, I closed it. Mrs Bennett and Jamie were good friends of mine, and she was trusting me to look after her youngest. Could I betray that trust?

"Okay." I said, wondering how badly I was going to regret this as Mrs Bennett's face lit up.

"Great! Can you come over at around five tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"See you then!"

The next evening I as at the Bennett's like I said I would be, small bag with pyjamas, some school work and toothbrush and paste. I was nervous about this, because it had occurred to me that the Bennett's had a dog. Would Mrs Bennett expect me look after Abby too?

I rang the doorbell and took a step back. The door quickly opened and Mrs Bennett grinned and ushered me inside.

"Come in come in, you must be freezing out here!"

Oh, if only you knew.

Sophie was sitting at the kitchen table, doodling with crayons and humming as Mrs Bennett rushed around, pulling her coat on.

"Alright. You don't have to worry about Abby, next door's looking after her. Sophie's had her dinner, but if she wants something to eat there's sandwich stuff, and I've left written instructions for a hot chocolate. Jamie said that don't know how to make one."

"Thanks." I said, suppressing my nervousness at the idea of making hot chocolate. It probably wouldn't be hot by the time I was done with it.

"Try and get her in bed by seven, and I won't be back until early morning, so feel free to crash on the sofa. Don't worry about breakfast, I'll fix you something."

"Are you sure? I can go home before then."

"Consider it part of your payment." Mrs Bennett winked at me before turning to Sophie.

"Okay, Soph, I'm heading off."

"Okay!" cried Sophie from the table, not looking from her drawing.

"Jackie's going to be looking after you tonight, so be good, and I'll you tomorrow."

"Bye!" called Sophie as her mom disappeared through the front door. As the door slammed the weight of the situation sank in. I was looking after a child for the night.

This was going to end badly.

Sophie still hadn't moved from her drawing, so out of nothing better to do, I placed my bag under the table and sat down at the table.

"So, what you drawing Sophie?"

"Bunny!" she declared gleefully, and I felt a small amount of the relief. This was something I could be honest with.

"Can I see?"

"No."

"Why not?" I asked, tilting my head to one side in an exaggerated attempt at showing curiosity.

"You're too old. You can't see him."

I hadn't expected that answer. "What makes you think that?"

"Jamie says only kids who believe can see them. You're not a kid."

"No, but I do believe."

Sophie paused and looked up from her work, her green eyes narrowed in suspicion. She quickly covered her work with her arms and asked me.

"What does Bunny look like?"

Counting off my fingers I said. "Well, he's tall, grey fur, stands on two legs, has leather around his feet and his arms, has an Australian accent."

I paused to look at Sophie, and felt a little smug when I saw that her eyes were as wide as saucers.

"So, do I pass?"

Sophie nodded, and moved her arms away from her piece of paper. On it was a childish representation of Bunnymund, but still pretty accurate. A speech bubble from roughly his head said. 'Ya little anklebiter.'

"That looks a lot like him." I said.

Sophie nodded in agreement, than after a second of thought, put a piece of paper and a crayon in front of me.

"Draw him." she demanded, and I complied. It had been years since I'd worked with crayons, and they were more unwieldy than I was used to. More than once my frustration threatened to bubble over and frost over the crayon, but I managed to keep it in.

Once I was done I had a rough representation of Bunnymund, not as good as I would like, but with what I had, I was happy.

"Done." I announced and turned it around so Sophie could see. Her eyes widened, then she looked back at her work and her face fell.

Now I was a little stuck. "H-hey, it takes time, you know?"

When she didn't look any happier I looked wildly around for something to distract her. It was barely even six, so I decided just to give it a shot.

"Hey, your mom left me some instructions for hot chocolate, want some?"

Sophie's face lit up and she nodded, drawing seemingly forgotten as I grabbed the instructions off the table and scanned them.

"This doesn't seem too hard." I noted. "Milk, coco powder, two minutes in the microwave." I paused on that last word. "Microwave?"

I looked up from the recipe to look around the kitchen and there wasn't a kettle in sight. "Huh."

I suppose that came with having a dad from the UK, he point blank refused to not have a kettle according to mom. He even went as far as to declare most Americans as barbarians for using a microwave. Best not to mention this to him.

I put the recipe down and spent a minute or so looking for mugs as Sophie got increasingly more excited, jumping around and getting under my feet.

"Can I have marshmallows?" she asked excitedly, still jumping around as if she'd had enough sugar for one day.

"If I can find some." I said, the recipe hadn't said anything about marshmallows! When do you put those in? Do you put them in? Is like dipping bread in soup? Do they melt?

I combined the two ingredients and fiddled with the microwave to get it to the right temperature and time.

"Okay Sophie, where are the marshmallows?" I asked.

"I don't know."

I struggled not to sigh. "Okay. If I can find marshmallows, you can have them. If not, then you can't. Does that sound fair?"

"Okay!" she replied brightly and I started hunting through the cupboards for Sophie's treat. She continued hopping around behind me, alternating between 'bunny hop hop!' and 'choccy choccy!' Good to know she was easily pleased.

The microwave binged before I found the marshmallows however, so I had to shake my head.

"Sorry Sophie, no marshmallows."

"I want marshmallows!" she demanded.

"I can't find them, so, no marshmallows."

Sophie pouted as I opened the microwave, and I was hit with a blast of heat and a fresh challenge.

How was I going to get the hot chocolate out?

I reeled back away from the heat, and Sophie stopped pouting and started giggling.

"You're funny. You're not scared of the microwave, are you?"

"No." I said, looking around the kitchen for something to shield me from the heat. My eyes landed on a pair of tongs.

"Ah hah!" I said, and grabbed them from the counter. Pulling my hoodie up over my face, I reached into the microwave and grabbed the mug with the tongs. All the while Sophie was laughing.

Glad someone finds this funny. I thought as I carefully extracted the hot drink like it was nuclear waste. Once there was nothing to support it the mug tilted alarmingly in my grip, and I quickly set it down on the side before too much spilled out. I did not want to have to clean that up.

I then realised that Sophie was too small to reach the counter.

"Sophie, I'm going to pick you up so you can get your drink okay?"

"Yay!"

I managed to grip her around the waist, and lifted her and held her like I'd seen a bunch of people do, although I wasn't sure if I was doing it right. She was more or less sitting on my arm.

"You're cold." Sophie commented and my heart sank slightly.

"Am I, huh?" I went, deciding to play obliviousness. "You'll warm up when you get your drink."

Sophie got her drink and I set her down at the table to drink it.

"You should drink one. Then you won't be so cold."

The idea made me want to vomit.

"Ahhh, no thank you. I'm alright." I said as I sat back down.

Sophie wasn't put off though, and pushed her mug towards me. "Drink."

"Thanks Sophie, but it's yours. You drink it."

"But I'm not cold."

"I appreciate it, but I'm alright. Honest."

Sophie decided it wasn't worth badgering me, so started to drink.

"You're like Jack." she said, and that one sentence made me freeze.

"H-how so?"

"He's cold too, and he doesn't like hot choccy either."

She then looked over her mug and scrutinised my face. "You look like him too."

"Well, whaddya know." I said, not having much else to say.

She finished her drink in relative silence, and once the mug was drained she let a large yawn.

"Looks like someone's tired." I commented.

"Nuh uh." said Sophie sleepily.

"Uh huh." I responded, my own mom having played a similar game when I was Sophie's age. "Bed time I think."

Sophie grumbled as I took the mug and placed it on the side and helped her upstairs to bed. From here I was a little at a loss, should I help her get into her pyjamas? Do I help her with her teeth? What do I do now!?

Thankfully this was answered as Sophie pulled off her top and pulled on her pyjama top.

"Okay, you can get ready on your own?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll be downstairs if you need me."

Sophie nodded, and for some reason looked a little nervous. She shook it off before I could ask though, so I just shrugged to myself and walked downstairs.

I got some of stuff out to do some homework, not that I really needed to, I'd done most of it. I just needed to proof read it and I was done.

I decided to give it quarter of an hour before looking in on Sophie. She had only just made it to the bed, but she wasn't quite under the duvet. Instead she was sprawled on top of it, snoring slightly.

I had to smile at the cute sight, and decided to tuck her in.

With that job done I yawned myself. It was still early, so I should probably read through my work before turning myself.

An hour or so later I was curling up on the sofa, all of the lights off and shifting around to get comfy. My proportions had finally sorted themselves out, so I wasn't quite as lanky as I used to be, but I was pushing it on the sofa if I wanted to stretch out. I settled to curling up, not bothering with a blanket, I didn't need one anyway.

I'd was just about to drop off when I heard a scream from upstairs.

"Sophie!" I cried, instantly awake and off the sofa, charging upstairs. Kids screaming was never good, any number of scenarios passed through my head lighting fast.

I burst open her door and slapped on the light to see Sophie curled up in her sheets, still crying out.

"Sophie! What's wrong?" I asked, trying to sound calm.

Sophie's screaming faded to sniffles. "I was scared."

"Scared of what?" I asked, carefully coming over and kneeling next to the bed.

"The Boogeyman. The Boogeyman's coming."

That sent shivers of fear down my spine, but I decided not to show it.

"Well, the Bogeyman's no match for me." I outright lied. "He's not gonna get you while I'm here."

"Promise?"

"I promise." I said. "I'll even check."

I ducked my head to look under her bed. There were toys, sweet wrappers and shoes underneath it, but no sign of Pitch.

"He's not here." I looked back up to see Sophie's bright green eyes staring at me.

"Sure?"

"Completely sure." I said.

Sophie seemed to think about it. "What if he comes when you're asleep?"

"Then I'll wake up."

Sophie didn't seem convinced.

"Can you stay here?" she asked, in a voice that made my heart melt. I was reminded of Danny asking that whenever he had a nightmare, and I almost cried.

"Yeah, I'll stay."

I sat on the bed and Sophie, instead of going back under the covers, decided my lap was better.

"Er, Sophie. I'm not exactly warm." I said, my hands raised awkwardly as I tried to work out what to do.

"You're like Jack." she murmured sleepily, curling up like a cat.

"Y-yeah. I guess I am." I conceded.

Her hands gripped my pyjama shirt, and she was quickly asleep again.

I yawned myself, and realised that I was kinda stuck. I couldn't go back downstairs without jostling Sophie, so I would have to make do on Sophie's bed.

Moving carefully so I wouldn't wake her up, I lay on my back on Sophie's bed, and slowly fell asleep, keeping a watchful eye out for any sign of Pitch.

Mrs Bennett was back even later than she expected, so it was no surprise to her that the house was dark.

She opened the door as quietly as she could so not to disturb the probably sleeping Jackie, but when she looked into the lounge, the sofa was empty.

"Jackie?" she called softly, but got no response.

Frowning to herself Mrs Bennett climbed up the stairs to look in on Sophie, and saw something that made her smile softly.

Sophie was curled up on Jackie's chest, fast asleep, and the teenager was sprawled out on Sophie's bed, also asleep.

Mrs Bennett nodded to herself, still smiling. She knew she'd made the right choice for a babysitter. There were plenty of other teenagers in Burgess sure, but none were as mature as Jackie. Sure, she had been forced into maturity after the death of her brother, and most seemed to see a withdrawn, moody teenager. However, Mrs Bennett was glad she realised differently.

Jackie was a sweet soul, hidden underneath layers of emotional protection, but Mrs Bennett believed that she didn't have a bad bone in her body. And, if her friendship with Jamie was anything to go by, she had to be at least half decent with kids.

Still smiling gently, Mrs Bennett closed the door and let the two sleep.

Before tip toeing downstairs to retrieve a camera. This was just too good to pass up on.

Yeah, I made Jackie's dad English because I needed a way to excuse any Britishisms that Jackie might do or say that any other American might not that I wouldn't notice because I, myself, am English. Also, yeah, that sums my opinions of Americans using microwaves for hot drinks. Although, I shouldn't stereotype, the first time I saw that was with a babysitter I had when I was little, who made me a mug of hot chocolate with a microwave, and I remember being very confused.

I know Sophie was only 2 when the events of ROTG happened, but I do think it would have an impact on her. A love of Easter, rabbits, chocolate and Australian accents, and a fear of the dark and the Monster Under the Bed for many years to come.

Finally, I don't think Mrs Bennett has a canon first name. I like Natasha personally, any objections?