Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ How Bad ❯ Watch Out for the Little One ( Chapter 2 )

 

Chapter Two: Watch Out for the Little One

 

“Well, I'm sure you'll be good friends!” gushed Gaia. By then, I realized that she was one of those people who always speak in exclamation points. She was like a happy fluffy poodle, whose sole joy in life was to jump around and make on the rug. Alright, so maybe not that last bit, but she was definitely fluffy-poodle material. Maybe in a past life … Ahem. Queen Serenity, so calm and Prepared and soft-spoken, was her polar opposite. The change unnerved me.

 

“I'll just leave you to get acquainted! Have fun!” She tripped out of the room, thin little heels clicking as she walked.

 

“So,” I looked at the children, giving them my best smile. “What would you like to do?”

 

It was an innocent question. Really, no one could've possibly predicted what happened next.

 

They glanced at me, took one quick look at each other, and bolted, all in different directions.

 

“Uh… “ Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this was an organized attack on my sanity. “Are we playing hide and seek?!” I called.

 

I didn't know where to run. They could be anywhere! I've been watching them less than five minutes and I've lost them already! I realized, in awe. Now, this is the point where any sane person would do the sensible thing and quit. But me? Do the sensible thing? Oh no, not me. I'm an optimist. A hopeless optimist.

 

Ugh.

 

I'll look back on this and laugh, one day. My crazed optimism had clearly sucked the reason from my brain. Yes. Laugh. I straightened and tried to compose myself. Now, here we had five boys, ages ranging from two to eleven. If I were I small boy, loose in a large palace filled with expensive breakables, where would I be?

 

The thought broke over my head like a faulty light fixture.

 

Oh dear. I felt as though I needed to sit down. All those delicate decorations! And, if I know anything at all about children … Crash!

 

Okay, well, that could've been anything, really. Maybe a kitchen maid dropped a plate, or a stable boy tripped on the carpet or - Bang!

 

Still, that wasn't necessarily… no, of course not. Some one is clearly re-arranging furniture, that's - Pop!

 

Hey, it was a popping noise. What on Earth can you break to make a popping noise? I wrung my hands, and started to go for the double doors. They'd left through the smaller side doors, but, I couldn't remember which ones. Maybe it would be easier to start in the main hall. Yes, easier, how hard could it be? Boom!

 

Not a problem! Not a problem! My mind rang. I can handle this. No trouble at all. Bam! From the left. I whipped my head around. Okay, I can still handle this. Think positive, think positive.

 

I rushed down the halls, ignoring the stares I was getting. Where could they—oof!

 

“Oh no! I'm so sorry I didn't mean to—“

 

“Really!” exclaimed the man. He had long iron-colored hair. “If you can't pay more attention to where you're going, then maybe you ought to find a position elsewhere. Running around like you've been set on fire, you'll get someone killed!”

 

“I'm sorry,” I cowered, he had such cold eyes, “I was just—“ I sputtered. I didn't want to admit that I'd already lost track of my charges, especially not to this broad-shouldered man, right here in the middle of the hallway.

 

“Well?” He glared. “Should I send for someone to escort you off the premises right now?”

 

“I—“

 

“What's going on here? You don't have to scare the poor girl.” A gargantuan woman stepped forward, looking to be somewhere in her late fifties. I didn't think that anyone could stand up to those cold eyes, but she stood her ground.

“It's not your place to interrupt.”

 

“Hmph, such words to someone who's looked after you since you were knee high to a grasshopper? For shame!”

 

“I don't have the time for this!” He growled and walked off.

 

“Don't have time for this, he says, well, don't you mind his Lordship over there. Always was a sulky child, I did say. But just what did you think you were doing, rushing around like that?” The woman put her hands on her hips; her formidable bosom heaved.

 

I flushed. “I'm looking for the children, they just sort of—“

 

“Oh, so you're filling in for Phoebe?” Her expression softened.

 

“Yes, and I—“

 

“Well, you'd better hurry up, then. No telling where they've gotten to now, mind, but I can tell you one thing: it won't be pretty. And do try to watch where you're going.”

 

“Thank you!” I called, as I broke into a run. Checking for signs of small life-forms, I made my way through the palace. Well, that last sound had come from somewhere to the left of the throne room. I headed left.

 

This took me into a living room. The couch was light green and the oak furniture gleamed. A thick oriental rug covered the floor. The coffee table was slightly askew. Upon further inspection, I noticed that one corner of the rug turned up slightly.

 

“Aha!” I said, aloud. Now if only …

 

“Achoo!” The curtain sneezed. I grinned. Success!

 

I tiptoed over to the windows, arms outstretched. I was ready to make a grab for him, if I had to. (And, if I weren't such a hopeless optimist, at this point, I would've realized that yes, I had to.)

 

Pulling away the curtain, I lunged, capturing him before he had a chance to escape.

 

“Ha-ha!” I murmured. I set him down when I realized he wasn't struggling. It turned out to be Zoisite, who was about two, with curly red-gold hair. Aw I thought, and in a moment of regrettable weakness I was distracted by the cuteness. Big mistake.

 

Watch out for the little one, indeed! I thought, oh so foolishly, Look at him, all sweet and adorable and nothing bad could possibly ha—

 

“ARRGG!” I screamed as he kicked me in the shins. Sweet lord, it hurt! Probably gonna have a bruise the size of the entire Asian continent. I rubbed my sore leg as he ran off.

 

“Okay, I stand corrected,” I said to his receding form. ”Watch out for the little one.”

 

I limped to the door, trailing him. He was fast. All two year olds move at approximately ten times the speed of light when being chased, by the way. (Conversely, when asked to pick up, they move so slowly that you have more than enough time to bake cookies, build a seven mile wall around your house, and perform open heart surgery on a heavily sedated baboon, all before they've finished. It's like a cosmic law.)

 

I'd only arrived that day, so I had no idea where we were going. Setting my jaw in determination, I followed the child into the unknown. Here I was, stoutly going where, quite possibly, no nursemaid had gone before. Hey, it was a big castle, and, apparently, most of them didn't last very long. (I was beginning to understand why.) I could end up anywhere.

 

Sometimes, I had to dodge servants and noblemen, and, on one memorable occasion, a small barking dog. It seemed to believe that it was a Doberman, rather than a mere fluff-ball of indeterminate origins. It didn't like me. The tooth marks on my leg proved it.

 

Zoisite found this hilarious.

 

Bravely, I pressed on. I knew, at this point, that I would never be able to find the throne room again, let alone the other four boys. Oh no. Four boys. I hadn't remembered that. There were four unattended boys, all under the age of twelve, running free in the palace of a thousand breakable objects, doing lord knows what, to lord knows who, in a place that likely, only the lord knows about. I sprinted behind him, panting, the gravity of this knowledge weighing heavy on my tired, tired brain.

 

He scampered through a whitewashed door. From the barrage of noise emanating behind it, I figured it was the kitchen. Ho! Got you now, you little—

 

“AAH!”

 

And oh the delightful crescendo of pain I was treated to, as the frying pan hit my head! I fell backwards onto the tile floor, groaning. Everything went hazy for a while.

 

“You alright?” asked a familiar voice. I opened my eyes, acutely aware of the throbbing ache in my skull.

 

“Wha-what happened?” The expansive form of the woman from before loomed over me.

 

“You were hit by a frying pan. Slipped right out of my hands when this one here ran into me, “ she gestured behind her, but I was too preoccupied to look. “You alright?”

 

“Yes, “ I said. “It's only some internal hemorrhaging. I'll live.”

 

“Here.” She helped me to my feet. “I'm Mrs. Pease, by the way.”

 

“Amalthea,” I said. “Thanks. This is the second time today you've helped me.”

 

“Don't think anything of it, no trouble. You've had quite a morning, I'd wager.”

 

“Yeah.” I sat on a high stool, prodding the bruise on my head. This, I thought, is my third battle wound, if you count the dog attack, and it's only my first day! At least it can't get any worse.

 

Famous last words, right?

 

Anyway, Zoisite was sitting at the table, reaching for a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

 

“None of that, now, you,” said Mrs. Pease, slapping his hand away. He regarded her reproachfully, but sat back in his seat. “Don't you worry,” she turned to me, “You'll get the knack of it.”

 

“I hope so. I really do.”

 

“You'll have to find the rest of them, of course.”

 

“Yes, but how? I've only just arrived; I don't know where anything is.”

 

“Just follow the trail of broken pottery, that's how Phoebe managed it.”

 

I laughed. “I should probably go talk to her. She's my cousin, you know.”

 

“Thought as much. I knew you had to be some sort of relation, agreeing to come and look after those lot.”

 

“I'm sure they're quite dear, when you get to know them.”

 

Now it was Mrs. Pease's turn to laugh. “Well, you are an optimist, aren't you?”

 

“Hopelessly.” I replied.

 

“Feeling better? Shouldn't be any more serious than a bump.”

 

“Oh yes, thank you. I suppose I should be going to get the others.”

 

“Be sure to take this one with you,” she said, helping Zoisite off of the chair. “Can't have him getting underfoot.”

 

“Right. Thanks again.” Zoisite in tow, I left the kitchen. My hand closed around his tighter than a bear trap in mid-winter. There was no way I'd let him get away again. No way.

 

“Okay, let's find your partners in crime. Where do you think they'd be?” I looked down. He shrugged. Somehow he'd managed to sneak a cookie from the kitchen. I thought about taking it away from him, but, it was keeping him quiet, so I let it go.

 

We wandered through the palace for a full ten minutes before I remembered Mrs. Pease's advice: follow the crashes. The bump on the head must have left me giddy, because I decided to enlist Zoisite's help.

 

“Hey, how about we play a game?”

 

“Game?” He said, eyeing me dubiously.

 

“Yes! It's called “Follow the Path of Unspeakable Destruction”. Sometime, soon, I think, there's going to be a crashing noise. We have to be very quiet and listen for it, alright?”

 

He nodded.

 

We listened. Sure enough, a loud series of gunshot-like bangs sounded.

 

“Aha!” I whispered, “That way!”

 

We crept towards a set of glass pane doors. They led into a peaches-and-cream ballroom, complete with dainty crown molding and two long white ash tables pushed to one side. Gauzy cream curtains were draped over the corners of the room.

 

“Hmm …” the remains of a vase lay in a sad heap on the table. Little porcelain chunks littered the floor. At least one of them had definitely been here. I hoped that their Majesties wouldn't be taking all this out of my pay.

 

My sweet, sweet pay, which, thus far, looked to be the best thing about this miserable job.

 

Something under the table rustled. Tip-toeing to the tables, I crouched down, still clutching Zoisite's hand. This was going to be one fantastic maneuver. I was going to have to hold on to him, while catching and subduing whichever other little hellion waited under the table. If I pulled this off, I knew I would deserve some sort of medal.

 

Now or never I thought, and, one-handed, I struck. My fingers grasped a small arm, not too hard, I hoped. Still, I knew I would need to hold on for dear life.

 

He fought like a wildcat as I dragged him into the light.

 

“Come on, let's get this over with,” I grunted. Nephrite. Five years old. I seemed to have him partially by the hair. I loosened my grip, adjusting it so that I wasn't tearing anything off of his scalp.

 

Standing in the middle of the abandoned ballroom with a small child in each hand, I was faced with a new dilemma. I, Amalthea, was only one person. Therefore, I, like many other people, only had two hands. Only two. There were five boys. Between them, that was ten hands. Hands down, I was beaten.

 

The two I had already seized were currently trying to run in opposite directions, pulling my arms painfully.

 

“Oh no you don't!” Said poor, two-handed me. What could I do?

 

Well, I could, feasibly, tie them all up and cart them around in a wheelbarrow. Somehow, I didn't think that Gaia would appreciate that. (Phaeton, on the other hand, might understand.)

 

There was always the option of leaving one or two with Mrs. Pease, but she'd already done enough for me for one day. Plus, they'd never get anything accomplished in the kitchen. (And I likely wouldn't even be able to find the kitchen.)

 

The only option was to somehow get them to cooperate. Easier said than done, of course.

 

Sighing, I plastered the biggest smile I could muster to my face.

 

“Okay boys, how about we play a game?”

 

“What kinda game?” Nephrite frowned.

 

“A fun game!“

 

They seemed to be buying it.

 

“The others are hiding … “ I invented, and it really wasn't far from the truth, “and we are going to find them. Hide and seek. Doesn't that sound like fun?”

 

“No!” They chorused, but that didn't mean jack-didly. I had them. They were already looking around the room.

 

“Not in here, you two. Let's go see who can find them first!” There, a healthy bit of rivalry never hurt anyone.

 

We searched high and low, combing the rooms of the castle. Every so often, I'd hear a crash, and shudder.

 

“What could they be doing?” I said aloud.

 

“Playing hide and seek?” ventured Nephrite.

 

“If this keeps up, we're going to have to play `Amalthea has a stiff drink'” I said, unthinkingly.

 

“What's a stiff drink?” asked Zoisite.

 

“Uh… never you mind, hey, is that Prince Endymion over there?”

 

“Where?!” They yelled, both fighting to get to the random corner I'd pointed to first. Oh yeah, this was working all right.

 

We found Jadeite with his head stuck in an overturned jug.

 

“ 'm stuck!” he yelled. He had alarming lung power, for a four year old.

 

“Hold on—“

 

“Stuck!”

 

“Yes, we'll—“

 

“'M stuck!”

 

“YES, I know! Hold on for a bit, and I'll get you out.” I turned his head this way and that, trying to ease it out of the jug. This wasn't looking good. How much air would he have in there?

 

The other two, of course, found this to be just about the funniest thing in the entire world.

 

“I think we're going to need some sort of lubricant…” He flailed his arms, hitting me square on the nose.

 

“Oof!” Ugh. Injury number four. That was going to hurt in the morning, I'll tell you.

 

Just then, Kunzite walked into the room. His eyes widened when he saw me, and he started to make a break for it.

 

Luckily, pain had sharpened my senses to a needle-fine, burning point. (Oh how it burned!) I grabbed him by the collar.

 

“You're not going anywhere, “ I said. “Jadeite's stuck in the jug and—stop laughing, all of you! It's not that funny!”

 

“No laughing!” wailed Jadeite, from his terra-cotta prison.

 

I convinced Kunzite to hold the jug while I tried to pull Jadeite free. He screamed so loudly; I was afraid I'd rip his head off. I dropped him in alarm. All that screaming probably wasn't helping the air situation, either, but I couldn't tell him that. It's not a particularly calming thought.

 

“Lean forward,” I told him. The jug was deep, so I thought that I might be able to break the bottom without hurting him. At least he'd be able to breathe.

 

I tapped the jug against the floor tentatively. I steeled myself, and then put the jug down. I just couldn't do it. What if a piece of porcelain flew up and hit him in the eye?

 

“We have to get him out.” I said.

 

Kunzite ran out of the room.

 

“Not again!”

 

“Well, maybe we can get some butter or something from the kitchen.” One problem though. “Um … do either of you know where the kitchen is?”

 

Nephrite pointed left, Zoisite pointed right.

 

Not helping.

 

“'M stu-u-uck, `malthea!” You know it's a good whine when a one syllable word gets stretched to two. Jadeite squeezed three syllables out of that poor sucker. This was one world-class whine.

 

“Don't worry, we'll get you out soon.” I said, comfortingly. “Try not to move too much.”

 

I couldn't just leave him in there. I would have to risk breaking the jug. What's an eye, after all? He's got two. It's like nature's spare wagon wheel! (I admit I wasn't at my best right then.)

 

Just in case, though: “Close your eyes.”

 

I prepared myself mentally, lifting the jug. Someone tapped me on the shoulder.

 

I jumped.

 

“ARG—hey! You came back!” Ha-ha, I said to myself, I'm doing something right!.

 

Kunzite had returned with a file.

 

“Thanks!” I exclaimed, hugging him. He coughed.

 

“Oh. Stop with the hugging, huh?” I asked.

 

He nodded. Clearly, he was a man of few words.

 

“Okay, Mister Jug.” I grinned wickedly, “I believe you have met your match! Fear him, for he is Mister File! Bwahahahaha!” I blame the frying pan for this little outburst. Or possibly some sort of disease from when that little dog bit me. Brandishing my new weapon, I faced my clay foe.

 

Mister File, as it turned out, was also a man of few words. But, oh did he get the job done. Yes.

 

“Alright,” I said, when I'd sawed off the bottom of the jug. “Let's go to the kitchen to get some grease or something.”

 

Kunzite knew the way, so we followed him until we came to the kitchen.

 

“Amalthea!” said Mrs. Pease. “Just who I wanted to see. One of yours got in here.” She gestured to Endymion, who had managed to stuff an entire cookie in his mouth while her back was turned.

 

“Mmph,” he said, and after that there was no stopping the rest of them from attacking the defenseless confectionaries. Let us have a moment of silence for the many brave pastries that lost their lives that day.

 

Mrs. Pease helped me remove the remainder of the jug from Jadeite's neck.

 

“Do they have a place where they can … destroy things that aren't worth more than my life and job combined?” I asked.

 

“There is a playroom. Somewhere around here. I'll bet they know the way.”

 

So we headed out to the play room. I mostly followed Kunzite, seeing as he was the oldest. (Rule of thumb: don't take directions from anyone under six years old.) We came to the throne room on our way. I was wondering if this sort of thing was allowed; could we really just troop through here anytime we liked? No one had said anything yet, so I decided to run with it.

 

I pushed open the double doors.

 

Gaia was standing there, in the midst of a pile of documents. She didn't seem annoyed that we were there, but, from what I had seen of her, she didn't seem to have the capacity to be annoyed. Gaia was off in her own, wrinkled paper, dreamy little world.

 

“Why hello!” oozed Gaia, patting Endymion on the head, “And what are we playing?”

 

“'Malthea gets a stiff drink!” Zoisite shrieked, before I could even open my mouth.

 

Gaia's eyes widened. Okay, I stood corrected. There were, in fact, some things that annoyed Queen Gaia. Duly noted.

 

Note to self: Watch out for the little one.