You stare fixedly at the tiny dark filly across from you completely at a loss for anything to say. She stares back in silence as well. This impromptu stare-off has been going on for several minutes now, and shows no sign of stopping.
What were you thinking, volunteering to babysit this little…night creature. Sure, she’s cute enough, but that’s hardly enough reason for you to just up and offer a babysitting gig. Your maternal instincts aren’t that strong to begin with, and you’ve never been an expert in kids, especially little girls. Surely, fillies can’t be any easier. And yes her dad…guardian…whatever the hell he is looks pretty hot. And..ok, he’s the only other human here. But still. What were you even doing?
Moonie glares at you, appearing to think hard about your mere existence, and you think the same of her. I mean…she’s a tiny nightmare. And she’s…lovable? How does that even happen? Isn’t she pure evil?
Why did you do this to yourself.
After a few more tense moments, you sit back and blink, shaking your head to try to wipe away some of your lingering self-doubt. The filly suddenly grins triumphantly and lets out a short sharp laugh.
“Hah!”
“What?”
“I win.”
“…we weren’t competing.”
“Well I was, and you lost. Bow down to your victor!”
Oh my god.
You count to ten as you breathe in slowly, and then ten once more as you breathe out. This isn’t going to be easy, but you’re sure you can manage it. It’s just one filly, how hard could it be?
“So kiddo,” you say, trying to lighten the mood with a smile and the nickname your mom used to call you. “You hungry?”
The filly nods emphatically.
“Yes, your queen needs sustenance!”
“Well, we’ve got mashed potatoes, and I can make macaroni and cheese if you…”
But Moonie is already shaking her head. Great, let me guess…the kid’s a picky eater, right?
“Cookies are the only thing that will do.”
“I’m pretty sure Anon doesn’t want you just eating cookies for dinner.”
“Of course he does! He wants what’s best for me and what’s best for me is cookies.”
“Well, I haven’t got any, so what’s your second option?”
Her face contorts in a sneer of distaste and annoyance. She looks exactly like a haughty queen sneering down at her subordinates.
“No cookies? Did…Anon send me here to punish me?”
You sigh and massage one of your temples with your thumb.
“No, he just has a few serious matters to attend to tonight, you know that. You’ll just have to make do with the food us plebs eat, ok?”
She eyes you warily, obviously unconvinced of your motives. You roll your eyes and again ask yourself why you did this.
“Would it help if I made the mashed potatoes into the shape of a pony or dragon or little man or something?”
You watch as she squints at you once more, weighing the decision carefully. Please, for the love of god, let this be enough. It’s about the only bargaining chip you have to offer. After a moment she gives a decisive nod.
“Yes, that will do slave. Onward to the potatoes!”
“I’m not your slave, I’m your babysitter.”
She shrugs, and makes a second motion with one hoof in a Heil Celestia sort of gesture towards the kitchen. Another royal decree.
“Same thing. Cary me sla-I mean babysitter.”
She pauses, and suddenly looks quizzical.
“But…I’m not a baby. I’m a filly.”
“Same thing,” you retort back, imitating her.
She glares at you. Real mature, you know, but hey maybe it’s best to get on her weird, equine, megalomaniac level or something.
“Fine. Then carry me, whatever you are. Your place is still to serve me.”
You let out another sigh and host the squirming little beast into your arms before going into the kitchen to serve her a meager dinner. She gives you additional orders on how to walk, talk, and serve her all the while. Welp, you can tell tonight is just going to be oodles of fun.
——
You watch as Moonie continues to play with her food. And by play, you mean call her mashed potato ponies you so artfully made ‘peasants’ and ‘unloyal citizens’ before smashing them into spattering piles of slimy white, cackling in gleeful laughter all the while. You’ve already resigned yourself to having to clean your entire kitchen once she’s finished, so now it’s just a matter of waiting until she satisfies her potato bloodlust and remembers you exist again.
Still, somehow you feel compelled to try to speak to her. I mean, that’s what babysitters do, right? They actually interact with the kids they’re watching after? You don’t remember what any of your babysitters were like when you were a little girl, but you’re pretty sure that’s how it worked at least. You wait until she’s smashing one particular potato pony (she calls it a ‘pathetic whelp’) before you clear your throat to get her attention. She glances up from her mangled dinner and squints at you again.
“Oh, it’s you,” she says simply.
And who else would it be exactly?
“Yep,” you say, doing your best to smile. “How’s the grub?”
She glances from you, to it, then back again.
“It is adequate,” she says begrudgingly. “I like how you made some of them unicorns.”
You did something right. Awesome. Good. You can so do this, keep it rolling, keep being a good babysitter.
“Well that’s good. So…um…”
“Do you like Anon?”
Ok, well that didn’t last long.
“Th-that’s not really a subject for us to be talking about,” you stutter out. “That’s a very personal question.”
“I know, and you’re a person. And Anon is my person. So of course it’s personal. So tell me, do you think he’s cute or something?”
Of all the impertinent little… You force out a smile again and try to give the filly a look of open kindness and warmth. She just continues to eye you suspiciously.
“It’s not like that,” you say gently. “And besides, why would you even care if I did think he was attractive? Not that I do or anything.”
Real smooth. Yep. You’re sure that was nonchalant as hell, not at so awkward that even a baby frickin horse would notice your unease. Sure enough she gives you a leering, knowing smile.
“Because anyone who wants to get at Anon has to go through me first,” she says darkly. “So if I don’t like you and you try to move in on my Anon, I’ll curse you for all eternity, or send you to the moon or…or…”
“Or what?” you say, suddenly smiling as well as she finds herself at a loss for words. “You’ll put me in stuffed animal jail? Tell on me to your first in command or something?”
“Sir Bearington would eat you alive.”
“I’m so sure.”
“Besides, I could always just cry and tell Anon that you were mean to me and called me names and punished me for no reason,” she lowers her brows at you and her voice suddenly sounds much more adult and sinister than before. “I might even say you smacked me one good or something.”
You sit back from the table a little, both impressed and a little horrified. She’s conniving and manipulative, you’ll give her that. Who even cares if that would work, you’re just shocked she’d go to such extreme methods so quickly.
“Damn kiddo, you play hardball,” you say appreciatively.
“…What’s damn?”
Oh…dear lord no. You just swore in front of the kid. You never took any babysitting or childrearing courses, but you’re pretty sure swearing openly in front of the child you’re babysitting is a huge no-no. You put both your hands over your face and quietly groan into your palms.
“Well shit,” you grumble softly.
“What’s shit?”
Apparently not softly enough.
“It’s nothing, you say quickly. “It’s just a dumb word that you shouldn’t say, forget about it.”
“Then why’s your face turning all red?”
“It’s not,” you say, knowing damn well that the additional lie you just told will only make your face redder.
“Yes it is, I’m watching it change colors right now.”
“I swear, it’s absolutely nothing, just forget I said anything.”
For a moment, she goes silent, and you think that you’ve finally won one. Then, a slow, dastardly, creeping smile begins to spread across her face.
“Damn!” she announces cheerfully.
You wince. Well, this sure isn’t good.
“Moonie…”
“Shit!” she says proudly.
“Moonie stop.”
“Damn shit!”
“Moonie, I said-“
“Shit damn!”
She’s obviously loving how much you’re protesting to her using this kind of language. As if to prove this point, she begins to break out into a sing song chant of ‘shits’ and ‘damns,’ even as you try once more to protest.
You’re a terrible babysitter.
Ok, enough is enough. You silently rise from the table and walk to the other side where the chanting, grinning filly is sitting, smashing her hooves into what was once beautiful mashed potato sculpture ponies. Without a word, you lift her out of her seat and into the air, your arms fully extended away from your body.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Put me down, peasant!”
“Nope.”
“Your queen commands you to set me down this instant!”
“It’s bed time.”
She curls in your hands at the phrase, like you’ve just sent an electrical shock through her body. You can’t help but smile at how genuinely emotionally wounded she looks.
“B-but it’s not even midnight yet! I am the queen of the night!”
“Not tonight you’re not.”
“I-I’ll tell Anon…”
“You go right ahead, Kiddo. You do whatever you think is right for your kingdom.”
She glowers at you, hooves crossed in front of her, as you make your way to the guest bedroom where you’ve prepared an area for her to sleep. She pouts out her lower lip at you, but you’re immune to that puppy dog look. You used to pull that stuff when you were a kid, there’s no way you’re falling for it from some tiny horse. Even if she is kinda cute.
Moonie sits in silence for the remainder of the journey to the bedroom, sulking all the while.
——
It’s been almost half an hour before you hear from Moonie again. You’re just sitting down to read one of those idiotic fashion magazines Rarity gave to you, when you hear a call from the guest bedroom.
“Slave?”
“I’m not your slave,” you call back, not putting down your magazine or getting up.
“…Fine, Babysitter then,” she says after a moment. “I request your presence in my sleeping chamber.”
What in the hell is it now? Just when you thought you were going to get some real peace and quiet. With a resigned sigh, you rise from your comfy chair and trudge over to the bedroom. You turn on the light so you can see her, and are surprised and a little pleased to find that she’s at least stayed in the little four-poster bed. It’s not much, but it’s a start.
“What is it? Something the matter?” you ask, trying on that forced smile again.
She straightens up a little in bed, probably trying to look more regal, despite the cute space ship and planet blank you gave her to sleep under.
“I demand…er…I would like a glass of water.”
“What’s the magic word?”
“Now?”
“…it’s please.”
“Why yes, I would be pleased if you would bring me water. Carry on sl…er, babysitter.”
It’s a simple request. And she at least made an effort not to call you a slave this time. It’s a start. You shrug and nod.
“Ok, sure. Be right back.”
She lights up, and you think you see her giggling as you turn to go. Not sure why the kid is so excited about getting water, but whatever. At least she’s happy for a change. You head to the kitchen and get here a large glass of water. Maybe if it’s big, she won’t bug you for more the rest of the evening. You quietly congratulate yourself on being so smart.
When you return, she gives you this wondering look full of gratitude and wonderment. For a brief moment, you kind of feel like here hero somehow. Like this water was all she needed in life, and you finally provided. Scratch what you said before, you’re an awesome babysitter!
“Here,” you say as you hand it over. “Hope you’re thirsty.”
Yes. A joke. Perfect, that’ll cement your awesomeness. She smiles a little wider.
“Oh, but I am. Thank you, you may go now.”
You’re so pleased with yourself that you don’t even mind that she’s shooing you away like some sort of stray animal. You simply back out of the room and shut the door, leaving it open just barely a crack so that the hall light can shine in. You remember being a little afraid of the dark at her age. Er…at least what you assume is her age. She could be like a thousand years old or something, you’re not sure.
You’re only just beginning to settle down into your chair again when you hear some sort of scuffling from down the hall. You freeze, concerned, and listen, but it stops only a moment later. That little filly better be in bed or-
“Hey…uh…babysitter lady!”
Christ, what now.
“Yeah Moonie,” you call, any appreciation for the little beast quickly leaving you.
“C-could you come in here? I require your presence.”
You let out a slow sigh and stand back up. So much for relaxing reading time, but you suppose this is what babysitters are supposed to do. You signed up for it, you’ve got to do it.
You go down the hall to the door which still stands open just a crack, and you think you can hear Moonie making soft noises inside. It sounds…almost like sobbing. You feel your stomach sink. Is she missing her dad? Is she lonely or scared of the dark like you thought? Poor little thing, all by herself in here. Maybe you’ve been too mean to her after all. Maybe she’s not so bad and you’re just being a jerk.
You swallow your pride and push open the door.
“Heya kiddo, what’s-”
Anything you were about to say falls silent in your throat as you’re greeted by a sudden onslaught of cold water.
At first, you want to shriek at the simple surprise of it all. You flail your arms, fighting back against some unseen enemy, your eyes shut to the moisture splashing down your face. You make some muted noise of shock and discomfort, and srink back against the partially open door with a thud. Then, something inside your brain settles enough for you to make a little sense of your situation.
You’ve just had water dropped on you from above. And then you were…hit with something. A cup. It was the cup of water you brought that little brat Moonie. You look up at the door which you’d left ajar, for her, and realize that you’ve fallen for the oldest trick in the book. You're not sure how the tiny thing managed it, but sure enough she did. She set the water there, and then when you opened the door, it fell on you. And worst of all, you gave her the water to begin with. In a way, this is self inflicted. You were just trying to be nice, and now you can feel the outcome of it soaking through your clothes, matting your hair to your cheeks and neck.
Shaking from the cold of the water and from a swirl of crazy emotions, you look up towards where Moonie is.
She’s no longer making that sobbing noise, which you now realize must have been giggling, and you can’t see her from behind one of the large bedposts. As you watch, her face slowly emerges from around the bedpost, inch by inch. In the dark you can see a large, gleaming, fanged smile glinting at you. Her eyes are narrow, and practically glowing with childish malice. You both stare at each other a moment.
“Fear me,” she hisses slowly.
Then she gradually retreats back behind the bed post again.
You stand there, dumbfounded, at a complete loss for words and actions. Then, numbly, like you don’t even feel your body around you, you turn away from the filly and exit the room, shutting the door all the way behind you as you go.
——
You’re on your way to pick up Moonie from the babysitter’s house, already exhausted from your meeting with her teacher at school. Seemed your little darling has been creating some sort of strange cult-following among the children, scheming to steal cookies or reward stickers from the teacher’s desk. It sounds more organized than Moonie usually is, but the little girl is smart. You wouldn’t put it past her.
You just hope she’s been good for the babysitter all this time. It was a surprise when the only other human you know of in Equestrian volunteered to take her for the evening, but you’re not ashamed to admit it was a relief. The filly always did respond better to your authority, so maybe another human would have more luck than a pony babysitter. So far, those little arrangements hadn’t worked out so well. Besides, this human seems to take a special interest in you and Moonie. For a while, you thought she might have a little crush on you or something, but you quickly but that thought out of your head.
You knock on the door to her small house, but no one comes to answer. You wait a moment, then knock again.
“Hello?” you call. “Anyone home?”
“Door’s open.”
The call from inside is almost too quiet to hear, and completely lacking in any emotion. You shrug and push open the door to find the babysitter seated in a chair right in front of the door. She looks…bedraggled, her hair damp and stringy, and her eyes are empty and sullen. Her back is hunched like it’s been broken, and she looks up at you with dim recognition. Like she barely knows you exist.
Yep, it’s just like the others.
“S-so,” you venture. “How did it go?”
She continues to stare wordlessly at you. Well, so much for that.
“Did I hear my Anon?” you hear Moonie call from down an adjacent hallway.
“Yep, time to go home Moonie.”
“Now?”
“Yes, right now.”
You turn your attention back to the babysitter, who has not stopped staring at you the whole time. You force out a weak smile and fish some bits out of your pocket.
“Here,” you say. “I threw in a few extra for your trouble, ok?”
She doesn’t take them from your outstretched hand. In fact, she doesn’t move at all. Eventually, you just set them on a nearby table, hoping that she’ll find them later once she’s pulled herself together.
Moonie appears around the corner, smiling broadly. You open your arms to her, and with a squeal of delight, she runs to you and launches herself into your arms for a hug. You give her a quick squeeze then set her down.
“I missed you!” she announces, and you can practically feel your heart melting.
“I missed you too. Now, say thank you to the nice babysitter and let’s get home. I…think we need to have a talk on playing nice again.”
She shrugs and turns a smile to the girl. Her head swivels to look down at Moonie, equally numb to the filly’s presence. In an almost uncharacteristic show of affection. Moonie trots over and lovingly wraps her front hooves around the girl’s leg. The poor babysitter winces away at first, as if she’s being electrocuted.
“Thanks for taking care of me!” Moonie announces. Then, she looks up with big, adoring eyes. “I had so much fun.”
You see a strange mixture of expressions wash over the girl’s face. She looks furious one moment, then sad the next. Then there’s this weird nauseated look, followed by one of pure exhaustion. For a second, she even looks as though she may hit the kid, and you’re worried you may have to step in.
Then, all at once, it’s like something changes in her. She’s looking down, eyes locked with Moonie, and everything just kind of softens. Maybe it’s some latent maternal instinct, maybe it’s that’s she’s finally utterly broken, but she seems to suddenly register affection for the filly. Like she can’t take the cute anymore. Her head droops in defeat, and she reaches down with one hand to tousle the Moonie’s flowing little mane.
“Yeah, me too kiddo,” she says hollowly.
Moonie releases her leg, trots back to you, and demands you lift her onto your shoulders. You offer another quick thank you to the broken girl, then exit her home and shut the door firmly behind you. From inside, you hear what might be weeping, what might be laughter, you can’t be certain.
“So…” you say uncertainly as you begin to make your way home. “Do you think you made a good impression?”
Moonie is humming in a carefree way from your shoulders, swaying back and forth with your every step. She doesn’t sound like she has a worry in the world, and has no idea the havoc and pain she must have just caused just be being her evil little self.
“Oh, definitely,” she says defiantly. “She loves and worships me for sure.”
-End-
Author's Note
Congrats to 8th on doing so many Moonie stories over the years, and for managing to write over 50K worth of dawww for us all to enjoy. Keep up the good work, man, you're fantastic.
Now...I hope to never write anything this cutesy ever again. I feel dirty. I'm going to go take a shower.
-Pencil
