A/N: I know, another story by SaltyJak, how strange. I once heard that happy people-truly happy people-don't write good stories. Dunno how much truth there is to that, but getting my heart broken has certainly gotten the creative juices flowing... Oh! Maybe I should get my heart broken more often- ...Nevermind.

"Jeez. Do his parents ever do anything but go on vacation?" The red-headed girl let her phone slip out of her hand, letting it absently fall and land on the passenger seat of her car with a muffled 'thump'. "I keep this up, and the kid'll probably know my name better than he knows the words 'Mom' or 'Dad'..." Vicky sighed and rested her chin on the steering wheel. "Still... I guess I shouldn't complain. All those vacations does mean more money for me..."

She'd met Timmy Turner; a brunet-haired almost-teenager with comically large buck teeth, inquisitive bright blue eyes, and an odd habit of wearing pink shirts, just over four years ago, when she was fourteen, and he eight. Their first interaction... Had gone pretty much the same as it always did when she took on a new client. Give the parents(and usually the kid) that nausea-inducing sugary facade, act like the most perfect little angel in the world, make them think you could do no wrong, and then, once the parents left...

Pull the rug right out from underneath the kid. She'd make them squirm, put the fear of herself into them, threaten them, yell, force them to do chores, turn them into her little servants. And of course, make sure they knew that she had absolute control over them. Soon as the parents returned, put up that little sweetie pie act, maybe blame something being broken or some chore not being done on the kid, and she was golden. Parents blamed the kid, she got a bonus for their child's 'unruly' behavior, and was always hired on again, due to Dimmsdale's strange lack of other babysitting services(which totally wasn't her doing).

The first two years had gone by quite swimmingly, in her opinion. Timmy, or 'the Twerp', as she liked to call him, seemed like just another dumb kid. Easily controlled and manipulated to do whatever she asked. Sure, there was the occasional hiccup along the way every now and again, but for the most part, the boy was just another pawn in her hand. Maybe not unwitting, and certainly not pleased with the turn his still short life had taken, but a pawn nonetheless.

Yet... It didn't quite last. Fast forward to her little 'pawn' being ten, with herself being sixteen, and she noticed a gradual but marked change in the Twerp. Sure, she still had his parents wrapped around her finger, but he slowly began to do things-just little things-that no kid in her care had ever been brave(or crazy, she knew he wasn't stupid) enough to do: Defy her. Never outright, or even in front of people, but when it was just the two of them, he'd try to argue with her, tell her she wasn't being fair, or that she was being evil for no reason.

Who ever said she needed a reason? The same imaginary idiot who said life was fair?

The first time, it had caught her off guard. He was the first(and only, she made sure of that) to question her actions, likely because she'd never had any reason to question them herself. Yet something in her face must have scared him after he said it, because as soon as the words left the brunet's mouth, he almost immediately shrank back like she was going to slap him and went to do his appointed task.

The second time, she was ready, and his questioning was met with a glare. What right did this kid think he had to question her authority over him? A thinly veiled threat of flushing his two goldfish down the toilet was all that was needed to turn him pale as a ghost and make him subservient once more.

The third time... She almost lost her temper. The Twerp again asked her what her problem was, why she treated him so poorly. It wasn't as if he got special treatment! She treated all the kids she babysat the same! ...It just so happened that Timmy's parents were her most well-paying clients, as well as the clients who needed her to come over the most. 'Business' meetings and all that...

At any rate, the third time he tried to go against her... Her day had already not been going well, with her parents forgetting her birthday, so she... Might've been on edge. In hindsight, it probably would've been wise to tell the Twerp to just leave her alone... But she didn't. Instead, Timmy had started another argument, one she was in no mood for, so she grabbed him by the collar of his pink shirt and lifted him off the floor, momentarily surprising herself due to how light he was...

"Mmph..." Vicky released a groan, muffled as it was due to her mouth being pressed into her forearm, which now lay across the top of the steering wheel. She was only a few hundred feet from the Turners' house, and now drove just barely over five miles per hour. "This is why I hate driving over here myself, too much time to think..." The red-head inwardly frowned at herself. She wasn't fond of taking the blame for things, not even- ...Especially when she was clearly the one at fault. That third time had been the first time she'd laid a hand on the ten year old. It was doubtful that she'd done any physical harm, but emotionally? It was more than evident that her action had terrified him. There were no arguments for several weeks after that, and for a while, it seemed like there wouldn't be anymore... All over her simply picking him up into the air...

But, of course, defiant people are always going to be just that: defiant. Roughly three months after that incident, Timmy again argued with her, outright calling her the most evil person he'd ever met...

Which she assumed was supposed to hurt her feelings, but Vicky took it in stride, and as a compliment no less! She did not, however, put her hands on the brunet, there were certain lines she knew better than to cross(when she was thinking rationally), so they merely argued for a bit, until she won out, and he went back to his chores.

Fast forward... About a year and a half later, right around a month before Timmy's twelfth birthday. By that point, she'd lost count of how many times the brunet had argued with her, called her out on her mannerisms, and at times, simply asked her with no real malice, why she was the way she was. Naturally, she didn't have an answer, not for him, anyway. Maybe not even for herself. Her mother and father certainly garnered a fair share of the blame, and some could even be attributed to her little annoying sister, Tootie, though such reasons were outside the raven-haired girl's control.

Either way, the kid wasn't her therapist. Good reason for her actions or no, it came down to whether he deserved a good reason from her, which he didn't, as far as she was concerned. Still... His defiant personality had held out for two years, and showed no real signs of stopping, so she did admire that about him. Not to mention that, at some point, the arguments between them became... Interesting. Some part of her liked being able to butt heads with someone, since everyone else would shrink back, give up and let her win. In the brunet, she saw; for lack of a better term, a worthy opponent.

Bzz!

"Ah yes, the Turners must be excited to leave their 'darling angel' in the hands of his 'wonderful babysitter'!" Vicky mocked Timmy's mother as she looked at her phone, now buzzing to indicate she had a text from the aforementioned woman, likely questioning if the red-head's car was parked in the driveway yet(it was). "Wonder how long they'll ask me to stay this time..." She shoved her car door open and stepped out, grabbing a black backpack out of the backseat as she did.

Her stays at the Turner household had been steadily increasing in duration as Timmy got older, and with him being twelve now, she usually had to stay the night, sometimes two. This didn't make much difference to the red-head, however, as she was finished with high school. And, as said before, it meant more money for her.

The front door of the Turner household suddenly burst open, the two people who came running out evidently just waiting for their son's babysitter to arrive. "Oh Vicky! You made it!" Mrs. Turner beamed at Vicky as she rushed toward her.

The eighteen year old took a single precautionary step backward, expecting the older woman to tackle her, shutting her eyes as she braced herself for the impact.

Only to feel a light breeze rush past her.

"What the...?" She cracked her right eye open and glanced around, quickly following it with her left. The front door to the house was still open, but there was no sign of Timmy's parents, not until Vicky heard a couple of car doors shut behind her, making the girl spin around to face the Turner's old station wagon. "Mrs. Turn-" Vicky found herself interrupted by a wad of cash landing at her feet.

The brunette-haired older woman waved as her husband started the car. "Thank you again for keeping an eye on Timmy! We should be back on Monday, you two have fun!"

Before Vicky could respond, the blue station wagon sped out of the driveway in reverse(narrowly missing her own car in the process), and tore off down the street, ignoring any and all traffic signs as it disappeared from view. "...Am I gonna enjoy going on vacation that much at their age?" The pink-eyed girl shrugged as she stooped down to pick up and pocket the wad of dollar bills at her feet. With how much she'd made from babysitting over the years, she really didn't need such an exorbitant amount of cash just to keep an eye on Timmy for a couple of nights, but... "Can never have enough money!" Vicky smirked at her payment as she transferred it to her backpack. "Now... Let's see what the Twerp is up to!"

She spun around on her heel, hands stuffed into the pockets of her black jeans, and slowly; almost lazily, made her way across the Turner's front lawn and steps, doing her best to look nonchalant and neutral as she took each step. Yet despite her best efforts, she could feel the corners of her mouth tugging up ever so slightly, unconsciously forming a small grin on the red-head's face.

Upon finally entering the house, Vicky shut the door behind her with her foot, then tossed her backpack of 'supplies'(and money) onto the recliner chair. She moved toward the couch, intending to assume her usual lying down position to watch some TV... Only to stop dead in her tracks as she turned her head to look at the couch directly, her eyes quickly becoming filled with confusion.

The couch was still there... But the cushions had been turned up on their sides to form a wall between the two arms, and there was a blanket thrown over the top of the crudely made fort, keeping her from seeing inside. She took another step forward, coming close enough that she could now hear whispers coming from inside the couch-fort. "Sounds like the Twerp... And... Someone else? Who could he be talking to? His fish again?"

She'd caught Timmy talking to his fish on occasion, though it really didn't bother her much. For a twelve year old, it seemed pretty normal, she certainly talked to her own pets when she was his age(never her fish though, she didn't have any).

At the same time though, why would he talk to his goldfish in a pillow fort he made on the couch? It seemed unnecessary, considering he could just talk to them in his room... And why did he have to occupy her couch?! It wasn't as if she ever came into his room and decided she'd use his TV, or his game systems, or his bed!

"...Lately..." "Ugh. Alright Twerp, you can continue your therapy session with your fish in your room." Vicky stepped forward and snatched the edge of the blanket, yanking it off the top of the couch. "When I'm here, the couch is mi-" Again, the red-head was cut off mid-sentence, though it was by her own surprise, rather than Timmy's mother.

As the blanket fell to the floor, a pair of blue eyes stared up at the eighteen year old... Blue eyes of a boy with a blond head of hair.

Vicky narrowed her eyes at the boy sitting cross-legged on the couch, across from whom was Timmy, whose attention was still focused on some comic book sitting between the two pre-teens, a flashlight held in the brunet's hand to ease their reading in the darkness of their couch-fort. "...Braces? What are you doing here?"

The boy known as Chester McBadbat immediately froze up under his babysitter's scrutinizing gaze, his eyes going wide as his pupils shrank to accommodate the sudden influx of light. The boy slowly edged himself backward, until he collided with the side of the couch behind him. "Uh... Heheh..." Chester gulped, his eyes quickly darting between his best friend; still more interested in the comic book than their evil babysitter, and the pink-eyed girl herself, who was now watching him like a hawk. "Ah... D-dude...? Timmy? We've... Got company...?"

The brunet's eyes never left his latest issue of the Crimson Chin as he made a noncommittal noise and nonchalantly waved off both Chester's worry, and the red-head's presence. "Hey Vicky."

"Twerp." Vicky quickly glanced over at Timmy as she acknowledged him by her preferred moniker for the boy, then refocused her attention on Chester, who she could tell was now sweating bullets. "Much as I hate to interrupt... What I'm gonna assume is some sort of male bonding session, I'd like an answer, Blondie. Why are you here?" It was at this point that she realized just why the Turner's had given her such a large amount of money. Timmy's friend was visiting, and probably staying the night, since he and Timmy were both out of school for summer vacation.

"I- I was... The new issue-" Chester pointed at the comic book that still held his best friend's rapt attention. "Me and Timmy... Were..." The blond trailed off, evidently still incapable of forming coherent sentences around his babysitter.

"Uh-huh. Well said." Vicky rolled her eyes at this boy, supposedly Timmy's best friend, yet so completely different. 'Blondie' hadn't changed much since the last time she babysat him, which was a few months earlier. Apparently Mister McBadbat either could no longer afford her services, or felt that Chester didn't need a babysitter anymore. "Probably the former." "Twerp? Move. Babysitter needs couch badly." She shifted onto her elbow on the arm of the couch and held her head up as she looked down at Timmy, somehow still engrossed with his newest comic book.

"What if I..." The brunet began as he looked over his shoulder, bright blue eyes meeting bored pink ones. "Let you read the latest issue of the Crimson Chin?" Timmy playfully raised an eyebrow at Vicky. "Then could we keep the fort standing?"

"You're pushing your luck, Twerp." Vicky thought as she narrowed her eyes at Timmy, who winked at her, making sure that while she saw it, Chester; who now bore a look of what she could only assume was a mix of horror and betrayal at the brunet's suggestion, did not. "Ah..." She stifled a giggle, knowing Timmy was expecting her to play along. "Hm... I might be willing to go along with that..." Vicky scratched her chin, pretending to give Timmy's offer some thought. "But that would mean letting your evil babysitter into your fort..."

Timmy, not missing a beat, turned around to face his babysitter, placing his hands on either side of her elbow as he peeked over the side of the couch. "Well... You could always ask to come in...? Couldn't hurt, right?"

"Aren't you the one asking me for something? Like not taking the couch back?" Vicky rolled her eyes again, but opted to continue to play along. "Do you two think you could make room for one more in there?"

"Timmy-" Chester began to speak up.

"Sorry-" Only to be cut off by his best friend, who stuck his hand over to his right, then brought it back, now holding a piece of notebook paper that he held up between himself and the red-head.

Vicky stared in wonderment at the sheet of paper, upon which was scrawled three stylized words written in what looked to be black marker.

(NO GIRLS ALLOWED)

The living room fell deadly quiet as Timmy shot the older girl a cheeky grin, while Chester simply facepalmed, likely expecting his best friend's life to come to an end at any second.

"Really?" Vicky deadpanned at her charge, who merely nodded in response. "You've got three seconds, then I'm flipping this couch and using you as a cushion. One..."

Upon hearing Vicky's words, Chester scrambled off the couch, grabbing the comic book and flashlight as he did, then ran past the red-head and up the stairs, disappearing out of sight.

"Yup, still got it." Vicky mused to herself happily as she heard Timmy's bedroom door shut, but made sure to keep her expression neutral as she continued to stare at Timmy. "Two~"

The brunet raised an eyebrow, it now being his turn to ask 'really?' as he watched the eighteen year old crack her knuckles threateningly. "Not like you're really gonna-"

"Three!" Vicky interrupted with a yell as she leapt forward, over the arm of the couch and into Timmy, tackling him down onto the couch.

"Ack! What are you- Ah! S-Sto-o-op!" The brunet giggled as he felt Vicky's fingers lightly scratch and run over his sides. "N-No tickling in the fo-o-o-rt! Hahah!"

"Brought this on yourself, Twerp. Shoulda just given me back my couch like I asked. Now I have to punish you for insubordination!" A wide grin formed on the red-head's face as the twelve year old pinned beneath her struggled in vain to escape. "And what kind of fort doesn't allow girls?! I bet you'd let Tootie in, if she were here!"

"Aha- No! I swea-ehe-r! Vicky-y-y! Stop!" Timmy blindly grasped at Vicky's wrists in an attempt to make her stop tickling him, but only succeeded in keeping her hands right where they were.

"Oh? You want me to stop? ...Okay, but only if you ask very nicely~" The pink-eyed let out a small giggle herself at how desperate the boy sounded. "C'mon, Twerp. Say please."

"Aghah! P-plea- Please! Heehee!" Timmy managed to get out as he felt tears beginning to form in his eyes.

"Ugh, fine." Vicky ceased her hands' movements and gently pulled them away, then crossed her arms over her chest as she shifted her gaze over toward the TV. "Wonder how much of my show I missed..." It didn't occur to her that she was still practically sitting on top of Timmy until she felt two hands exerting a light pressure on her stomach.

"C-C'mon! Get off! I'm gonna get cooties at this rate!" The brunet whined out as he continued to press his palms into Vicky's abdomen, going so far as to wiggle his own fingers and try to tickle her.

The older girl didn't even flinch at his attempts as she glanced down and to her left at him. "See, this is why I'll always win these. I'm not ticklish."

"Everyone's ticklish!" Timmy shot back childishly as he resumed his attempts at just trying to push his babysitter off of him. "I just haven't found your ticklish spot, that's all! Now... Get... Off! I never agreed to be a couch cushion for your big butt!"

"Hmph, brat." Vicky pushed the couch cushions over and at last moved off Timmy. "Come on, get outta there so I can put these things back." She reached down, offering her hand to the brunet, which he gratefully took. "Ugh!" Vicky groaned in exertion as she pulled the boy out of the couch and to his feet. "And you say I have a big butt? You're getting too fat for this, Twerp."

Timmy recoiled from her grasp and jumped back a few feet, a hurt look on his face. "Hey! I am not fat! I just weigh more because I'm getting muscles!" The pre-teen flexed his right arm and pointed at the barely-there bump of muscle the action formed.

"Wow. I'm so impressed right now." Vicky spoke in a sarcastic and mildly condescending tone, though she did find Timmy's poor attempts to impress her somewhat amusing.

The boy's triumphant grin quickly turned into a skeptical frown as he narrowed his eyes at the girl. "You don't sound very impressed..."

"Probably because I'm not." She admitted with a grin of her own, making Timmy visibly deflate from his previously confident pose. "To be fair, I do have really high standards, and you're a bit young for me."

"Huh? A bit young for... Agh! I wasn't- It's not like I'm trying to impress you!" Despite the look of horror now etched on his face, a light dusting of pink bloomed across Timmy's cheeks at what his babysitter was implying. "I was just proving that I'm not fat, I weigh more because I've got muscles!"

"Uh-huh. Sure you weren't, Twerp." Vicky nodded as she spoke in a skeptical tone.

To Vicky, it seemed strange to be able to joke around like this with the one of her clients' kids. She'd made a point very early on in her babysitting career to not mix business with pleasure. She believed that the second she let her guard down around one of the kids she babysat, her whole image would be ruined. The news would spread like wildfire, with all the fear and respect she garnered over the years going up in smoke.

So maybe it was his attitude of standing up to her when no other child in her care would, maybe four years of babysitting her 'Twerp' had caused her to warm up to him a little, or maybe she was just getting soft since most of her teenage years were behind her. Whatever the reason was, she and Timmy had a bond of sorts, and while she'd never admit to being friends with one of her charges, she could admit(to herself) that she enjoyed spending her time babysitting him. Even if he could be a brat.

"So what's one-fourth of your posse doing here?" Vicky asked as Timmy began to return the couch cushions to their rightful spots.

"My 'posse'? What happened to 'The Twerp Squad'?" The brunet waited for a response as he slid the cushions back into place, but opted to continue when none came. "Chester likes the Crimson Chin, just like me, AJ, and Tootie. Me and him went to get the newest issue today, and we decided we'd bring it back here to read." Timmy shrugged as he finished putting the couch back together, then turned around to face Vicky. "Is that alright with you?"

That was something else that she liked about Timmy. Even with their... Less than pleasant past interactions, Timmy still showed her a fair amount of respect, often taking her feelings into consideration in many situations. He was a lot more grown up now than when she met him four years ago, and definitely more grown up than ninety percent of kids his age.

Vicky bore a thoughtful expression for several seconds before responding. "Depends."

"On what?"

Vicky quirked an eyebrow up at the boy in front of her. "On what you've told him about me when it's just us." She mentally facepalmed as she realized that sentence could be taken very far out of context.

Timmy instantly broke eye contact and began twiddling his fingers about. "Er... Eheh... Nothing...?"

"Great." Vicky thought in annoyance as she closed her eyes, letting a small sigh escape her lips. "...Alright. What did you tell him? Not that I occasionally pick you up from school, right? Or... That I've helped you out when it came to that gray weirdo? You didn't tell him that I'm sometimes... Nice-" She grimaced as she felt a chill run up her spine. "-Did you?"

"It... Might've come up... One... And a half times..." Timmy began tapping his index fingers together nervously. "B-but it doesn't really matter anyway! Chester-! Doesn't really believe me..."

Vicky hummed in thought as she rubbed the back of her head. "Suppose that makes sense. Blondie might as well have left a trail of fire up those stairs..." "Well good. I've got a reputation to uphold..."

The red-head walked toward, then past Timmy as she dropped down onto the couch and settled herself into a more comfortable position. The boy watched her as she grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, briefly wondering if that would be the end of the conversation. "But... Doesn't your 'reputation' make it hard to make friends?"

"Maybe." Vicky shrugged, not quite paying attention to the brunet as she channel-surfed for something good to watch. "That'd only be a problem if I was lookin' to make friends though."

"I'm your friend." Timmy said as he leaned onto the arm of the couch next to his babysitter.

"There's two schools of thought on that."

Timmy couldn't help but roll his eyes at that one. Vicky had the habit of insisting they weren't friends. "Even if you don't want to admit it, I like to think that we are."

The pink-eyed girl let out a small, noncommittal 'eh' noise as she slipped off her sneakers and kicked her legs up onto the couch to lay down on it. "Careful, you keep insisting we're friends and I might start to rub off on you." With her head now resting on the arm of the couch, Vicky turned away from the TV and looked up at Timmy, meeting his blue eyes once more. "Or did you think I wouldn't remember that little wink from earlier? You sure like messing with Blondie, eh Twerp?"

Timmy smirked and glanced away from the red-head's accusatory stare. "I... Kinda forgot that Chester's still pretty terrified of you." He chuckled as the memory of his best friend running up the stairs and slamming the door to his room was pushed to the front of his mind.

"Heheh... With a friend like you..." Vicky trailed off as she turned her head back toward the television. "Might wanna go check on him. With how long you've been gone, he probably thinks I buried you in the couch, and that he'll be next."

"Yeeaahh, probably a good idea." Timmy nodded in agreement as he pushed himself off the couch and made his way over to the stairs. He began to ascend them, and reached about the halfway point before taking pause, his eyes falling on the top of Vicky's head. "Y'know..."

"Hm?" The eighteen year old looked up at Timmy again, now causing him to appear upside down on the stairs due to her position.

"I dunno how much of a fan you are of the Crimson Chin and comic books, but if you want to... Maybe play some video games later... I do have three controllers...?" The brunet spoke in a hopeful tone, though he struggled to maintain eye contact with his babysitter. "She's probably gonna tease me for asking that..."

Timmy was perfectly aware of the strangeness of his friendship with Vicky, the girl who habitually went out of her way to make his life miserable. Up until a few months ago, he'd do anything for even a few minutes away from her, and usually did just that by way of his fairy godparents, Cosmo and Wanda. At twelve years old, he'd journeyed to so many different places and times, it had begun to prove difficult to keep track of them.

Many of those adventures had simply started because of nothing more than a wish to escape the red-head, so how hypocritical it must've seemed for him to be asking this girl, whom he once thought was so evil, to hang out with him like they were besties. And despite his age, the irony of it all was not completely lost on Timmy.

Vicky glanced back over at the TV as she took a moment to consider Timmy's offer. "Ah... I don't think I'd be that much fun if we played a game right now. I'm pretty bushed after today..." She looked back over to him. "Maybe-"

Only to meet the brunet's big blue eyes staring her down from the stairs, their owner doing his best to mimic an endearing puppy dog's look. "Please~?"

"There is no reason that look should affect me the way it does." The eighteen year old thought in annoyance. She wanted to just lie around all day, order some food for dinner, and maybe watch a bad horror flick...

Except hanging out with the brunet like they really were friends had a strange draw to it. Likely because of her own lack of a social life and, by extension, her own friends. "Although... If Blondie decides to stick around, hanging out with him and Timmy might be interesting... If only because it means I get to make him squirm...!" Vicky's lips curled up into an evil smirk. "You really want your evil babysitter to come hang out with you and your friend who's terrified of her?"

Timmy smiled excitedly at his babysitter, realizing he'd all but convinced her to come hang out with him and Chester. "Yeah! You're awesome at a lot of my games, and... and... We could... Team up against Chester! C'mon, it'll be fun!"

Vicky couldn't help but giggle at her Twerp's childish excitement. Yes, he could be a brat, and a huge pain in her ass at times, but he evidently looked up to her quite a bit, in addition to the fact that he respected her, and wanted to hang out with her. "Kid makes me feel less like a friend, and more like an older sister sometimes..." "Hah... Alright, you've convinced me. Gimme an hour to relax, get some food in my belly, and I'll come up."

"Really?! Sweet! I'll go and get everything set up, thanks Vicky!"

The eighteen year old red-head watched as Timmy disappeared up the stairs, waiting until he was out of sight before shaking her head and facepalming to hide the massive grin on her face. "Can't believe how cute that Twerp can be..."