Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.

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EDIT: Reposted, since readers were seeing Bewitched instead for some reason. Hopefully the site will stop being a buttface; I emailed the support system about this problem. Thanks!

Hands On

When Jack Merridew hears that a summer camp group is coming to visit the science center, he is not pleased. He knows just by the clutters of families with bunches of kids that have nothing better to do on a June afternoon but mess around at the center that children are no good. They get sticky hands on everything so that he has to wash most of the exhibits with jelly-stained handprints. They leave everything in a mess, and the pool that demonstrates wave motion in relation to boats often has more water on the floor than in its case. They make a lot of noise. They are, unfortunately, how he gets his paychecks.

"Put up with it," Roger says, most unhelpfully. Jack sneers at him. Roger gets along with kids about as good as he does, but the dark boy's constant stormy demeanor makes children rarely go to him for help. Roger, Jack is spitefully happy to discover, has to deal with the summer camp group as well instead of being reprieved to gift shop duty.

When the summer camp group comes in through the doors, already noisy and grating on Jack's nerves, they are led by a blonde boy that Jack knows he will not get along with. There is an expression of natural confidence and leadership that irritates Jack more than the fact that the children are making an excessive amount of chatter. He comes up to Jack and grins and holds his hand out. "Hi. I'm Ralph Castilian. I'm the head counselor and I apologize beforehand for all these kids." He gestured vaguely behind him at the bunch of kids, ranging from ten to early teens.

Jack takes his hand. He can counsel himself that he is older than his Ralph fellow; surely nineteen was a year or so older than this sucker stuck with ushering around such an unruly group. Ralph grins at Roger, then at the other two summer part-timers who take to him better than Jack.

"We take them after lunch," Roger murmurs helpfully. Jack casts a disapproving glance at the heads of the mob before him. None of them look particularly behaving – he supposes all children have that mysterious mischievous look to them. The girls are either gossiping among themselves or standing around looking sulky. The boys are already engaging horseplay that strikes Jack as painfully immature. He is about to dismiss them all when his eyes fall toward the back of the group, to the couple of stragglers hanging about near the door.

There is a boy, perhaps about twelve or thirteen, looking a little dazed as if he doesn't actually know where he is. His eyes are eventually drawn to the glass ceiling and he stares up at the clouds as if he can see God. He has dark hair and a lanky body compared to the blonde, chubby cherubs usually associated with angels, but he also has an almost ethereal quality to him. When his eyes come back down to earth, they meet Jack's and although they are dark like Roger's, they are not calculating and wicked.

"Who are you looking at?" Roger asks, trying to find Jack's line of vision. "Do you know one of these brats?"

"No." Jack turns as the other two center members are leading the group and Ralph off to the electricity display. The children follow like little, silly sheep, almost tripping over their feet. The boy follows them almost reverently, like he is resigned to the craziness of his fellow campers. He turns as he passes, glancing at Jack for a moment before disappearing into the wave of children.

So although he and Roger are really only supposed to make sure none of the children get into the other exhibits or cause too much of a ruckus, he manages to lose Roger somewhere around the underwater displays and watches as the group sit down for one of the tour guides (Jack supposes that even though it's his third week, he should probably get to know his co-workers' names by now)'s talks. The mysteriously still-unnamed boy listens, looking forward like the submissive student Jack thinks he must be in school. Leaning on the static ball, which regretfully makes his red locks stand on end, he watches, fascinated with the gentle way the boy does anything, turning to the boy whispering next to him, raising his hand when the tour guide asks if anyone sings. The girl asks for him to demonstrate the vibrations of the human vocal cords and almost snickers to himself when the boy shakes his head.

"Simon's shy about that sort of thing," Ralph pipes up helpfully. Jack wants to tell him to be quiet. The boy can speak for himself; but Simon does not look upset at being represented by someone else. At least Ralph is good for something. Simon. Jack tastes the name in his mouth, trying it up and smacking it up against his tongue.

He is aware he is a bit strange.

When Roger finds him again, it is a bit difficult to shake him off again, especially now that Roger is suspicious. "I thought you didn't want to deal with those kids," his friend accuses him, frowning but without too much malice. Jack knows Roger is trying to figure him out and slips off when Roger tells of another family visiting not to lean over the edge of the balcony. For a moment, he loses the summer camp group but hears their voices toward the lookout point over the lake that is situated next to the center.

Leaning over the edge, totally disregarding any sort of rules, Jack searches out for the head of black hair and sees the boy, Simon, staring out the binoculars out into the water where a couple sailboats are taking advantage of the clear weather. Patting his still wild hair, he swears he sees the boy look up when he lets the girl behind him get a turn at the binoculars, but because the boy doesn't make any acknowledgement, Jack thinks maybe he was looking at something else – maybe the pterodactyl bones hanging above him.

The children are given free reign on the hands on center. Most of the boys head to the batting range, where they swing a bat that hits a virtual ball and shows them how fast a real ball would have gone. Most of the girls linger around, poking around at the fake kitchen that shows the process of baking bread. Jack hides behind the twisty mirrors as his two coworkers chat with Ralph; Simon is running his hands along the optical illusions. Some of his friends try to get him to go with them but he does not seem interested. He wanders into an empty corner, stopping to study a particular stumping picture showing either an old woman or a young girl.

"What are you doing in here?"

Jack nearly pushes the mirrors over. Roger is looking at his closely, observing each of his movements. "I know something's up. Now you'd better tell me, because you know I have a couple of things on you. I can tell the manager who was the one who spelled out those curse words in the stars. And who arranged the rock candy to look like a big –"

"I wonder who ripped that stuffed animal to bits and sprinkled the cotton over a band of preschoolers?"

Roger smirks. "Well, you had a part of that too." Jack makes the mistake of getting distracted as Simon goes back to join his friends and Roger suddenly grabs him. "Do you know that boy?"

"Which boy?"

"That one. The batty-looking one." Roger shamelessly points to Simon. Jack thinks Ralph seems them pointing and gives them a pointed look. "You're staring at him like a complete creep job."

"I just think he looks familiar."

Roger loudly scoffed, making some girls nearby look at them. "I know as well as you do that you don't get along with little kids. You don't know that kid. What gives?" Roger cocks his head, a crooked smile on his face. "Ja-ack…"

"Nothing!" Jack shoves him, making his coworkers give them a glare. "Mind your own business." He adjusts his shirt and storms out with Roger to arrange the kids' lunches.

The girl coworker (Anne, her nametag reads) gushes about how amiable Ralph is during lunch. The male coworker (Teddy, the nametag reads) shrugs and mentions how he's met Ralph though a mutual friend. They sit a couple tables away from the kids and Jack feels a pair of eyes on the back of his neck. He hopes it is not Ralph's; but once when he sneaks a peek behind him through a skillfully executed stretch, Ralph is not even facing him. This, however, gets Roger's attention and a knowing grin.

After lunch, Anne and Teddy take the guard duty and Roger and Jack are in charge of entertaining the children. "We're going to split you all into two groups," Roger announces, before Jack can say anything. "One group is going to go with Jack here to the planetarium to see constellations." He gives Jack a sly look. "One group is going to follow me to the greenhouse. In half an hour, we'll switch and Jack's group will go to the greenhouse and my group to the planetarium. Does that sound okay?"

Roger is such a sap and an actor, Jack thinks. The children chorus agreement.

"Here, we'll split it like this," Roger says, bringing his arm in the approximation of half the mob. The children slide either left or right – Simon is left standing, blinking, as he is standing right in the spot that Roger brought his hand down. "Come along with my group," Roger interjects before Jack can offer a spot. "There's less kids in my group anyway."

Jack is not going to waste the energy of shooting Roger a dirty look. He knows his friend is expecting one and he's not going to give him the satisfaction. Even more unluckily, Ralph decides to tag along with him.

"So how is working for the science center?" Ralph asks him on the way to the planetarium, like they were best friends. "I imagine it must not be so great keeping the kids away from the things they shouldn't touch."

"You would imagine right," Jack replies snidely. Ralph raises his eyebrow at him. He grudgingly shows the slides about the stars, rolling his eyes as the kids marvel in awe at the almost magical light show above them. In fact, he can almost hear the apathy in his voice when he points out Orion.

When he passes Roger's group going to the greenhouse, he sees Simon at the back of the pack. He curses himself for seeking the boy out whenever they cross paths. He feels Simon's dark eyes lingering on him and quickens his pace. This makes the kids run, which is counter productive as he now has to make them walk – more effort.

The last activity of the visiting campers is to sit in the activity room and do some fun activity papers (coloring the leaves and telling bugs apart; boring). Jack excuses himself to check his phone – his mother wants him to pick up some bread on the way home. When he slides his phone back into his jeans pocket, he sees Simon come out of the activity room and head in his direction.

"Can I help you?" Jack asks, plastering on a plastic smile on his face. Simon returns an unnaturally cheery smile.

"You can. Jack, is it?" He walks up to the inconspicuous corner Jack is hiding in (phone usage during working hours is prohibited) and stands in front of him – he barely reaches Jack's elbows, even if Jack is on the tall side. "Why have you been following me?"

Jack knows sputtering will make his intensions quite clear. "What are you talking about?"

"I thought that too at first; but then at the hands on center, I purposely walked away from the group to see if you kept watching me and you did." Simon looked at him, looking almost innocent. "You've been following my group very closely. I noticed."

"Well." Jack quickly makes himself calm. "I've got to make sure none of you kids wander off and get lost. That wouldn't be good."

Simon taps his chin. "Aren't you a little too old for me, Jack?"

"What are you talking about-!"

"But it's okay, I guess." Simon leans to one side, as if to inspect that side of Jack. "You're cute, at this angle." Young people these days! Simon beckons him down, looking about to divulge a juicy secret. When Jack bends down, Simon leans up and pecks him on the cheek. Jack straightens up and stumbles back into the wall.

"Stand much?" Simon comments, giggling. As Jack struggles to come up with a comeback, Simon starts back toward the activity room. "My school needs someone from the science center to come in during early September this year to show all of the seventh graders how to use microscopes. Maybe I'll see you then." Jack watches incredulously as Simon opens the door and slips behind it like water.

Roger knows something has happened. He is gloating at him soundlessly, looking like he's won a great prize at the door. Ralph is bidding them good bye and telling the children to repeat after him. Anne is touched and Teddy is proud. Roger tosses his head. Simon is staring at Jack from the back of the group, dark eyes unwavering. Jack shoves his hands in his pockets and nods curtly at him. Simon smiles back.

"I'm pretty sure he's really underage," Roger whispers to him as they watch the campers board the bus. "Really underage, Jack." And then, to hammer it home, "You're in uni, Jack. Uni."

"Alright, I get it." As they trudge back inside to sanitize the poor rooms the campers visited, he thinks that maybe he is a little creepy. Just a little. But he does need community service for university. And he is still free come September. And he can use microscopes pretty well.

"Say what you will about pedophiles, but at least they drive slowly near schools, am I right?" Roger says, as the four of them clean the activity room.

Jack throws a dirty towel at him.

End

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Note: I always say to myself that I've got to stop writing for this fandom and spend some time with my other fandoms. I keep saying that, but I keep coming back. I blame all the times in my youth I visited my science center. I'm drawing on memories about that. I'm a big fan of underage!Jack/Simon, in case no one noticed. I've got to finish my school AU! ARG. Thanks for reading.