Sibling Rivalry

The Babysitter

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.

Four years ago:

Judy sighed in relief when she finally reached the front door. Nine o'clock. Right on time, she thought as her hand reached into her purse.

Working late is a non-issue for her seeing that she has been doing it all throughout her career. But since Russell is away for work and Quinn is away for a 'cheer-over' in a lake cabin (It was a tradition, apparently. She was even asked to sign a permission slip), she has to hire a babysitter for Charlotte.

After a full minute of rummaging—her purse has a lot of knick-knacks that she dares not to throw away, her hand finally settled on the house keys.

Blurting out a soft "Yes!" in mock triumph, she immediately inserted the right key into the doorknob. With a few jiggling, she hurriedly opened the door and stepped inside.

"Rachel?" she called out as soon as the door opened. She looked left and right, confused at the lack of hurried footsteps that's suppose to greet her.

"Rachel?" she called again as she padded onwards, suspicious. It was quiet. And the lack of Broadway musicals and enthusiastic singing as background noises is enough for Judy to worry.

She padded towards the only logical place to be: the living room. And as came closer to the area—her stilettos clicking at the floorboard with each step, hazel eyes widened at the scene.

The living room is a mess, the floor littered with unidentified parts from what she realized—in horror because it was expensive—as the collective parts of the entire entertainment system. Everything is butchered and is scattered on the floor: the speakers, the DVD player, and even the HD, 60" flatscreen television that Russell adores.

And right in the middle of the living floor is a twelve year-old Charlotte, her long, curly tresses collected in a messy bun. She has a pinched, determined expression as her hand busied themselves with unscrewing busy looking at the butchered parts.

"Charlie!" Judy screeched, her eyes still wide in shock. The girl in question jumped in surprise, dropping her screwdriver, as her own light blues widened beneath the spectacles.

"You're home," the girl simply said with a sweet smile after the initial surprise before turning her attention back to her work.

When the blonde didn't look up again, Judy decided to exercise her will-strengthening mantra—like what her therapist ordered years ago—and closed her eyes.

Breath in, breath out... she thought, inhaling and exhaling in tune of her mantra. She always do this especially when it's a stressful situation involving her youngest.

So let's just say it has become a regular thing.

"Honey, what are you doing?" Judy finally inquired as calmly as she could, although she could feel one eye twitching when Charlotte nonchalantly threw a silver-like thing on the floor.

The blonde girl looked up. "I was bored and and there's nothing to do," she replied—as if butchering appliances is a sensible cure for boredom—and Judy just sighed tiredly.

The family knew of the young girl's unparalleled curiosity and propensity for taking apart things when left to her own devices. That's why she and Russell—like any responsible parent—hired a babysitter so that Charlie could be monitored.

Although they could've just asked—or bribed—their oldest to babysit, they couldn't even do that. Leaving Quinn in charge of Charlotte when she and Russell are away is like dropping a boxful of mentol candy into a vat of 7-up: there'll be messy explosions that'll end in a sticky, difficult situation.