Author's Note: Well hello again. As promised, here I am with more Heronstairs goodness. This is less angst and more fun than my last story. You can also ignore the slash here - at least up until about the third chapter or so. After that, the slash kind of slaps you in the face, so ... you have been warned. This story operates around the premise that Jem had a best friend back in Shanghai, a best friend that Will knew nothing about whatsoever, and that makes Will adorably jealous. Please read and enjoy! Rated T for language, brief violence, and *cough cough* eventual groping.

Will ran up and grabbed his parabatai from behind. "Where have you been? You missed it this morning, I had the most splendid-"

The boy who was most certainly not Jem turned and dropped his hood.

"Jem… have you done something different with your hair?" Will chuckled at his own cleverness.

The boy stared back at Will with slanted brown eyes and an endearingly scandalized expression. He certainly looked an awful lot like Jem, sans his coloring, and his earnest gaze was making Will uneasy.

"It was a joke," he clarified, "I know you're not Jem. No need to look so … violated."

The boy tilted his head to one side and his eyes widened.

"Uh…" Will stuck out his hand, "I'm Will."

When the boy offered neither his hand nor his name, Will pouted. "You're no fun at all," he decided, then griped: "It's fine. I didn't want to talk to you either."

"Even if you'd wanted to, you wouldn't have been able," came Jessamine's voice from the sitting room. "He doesn't speak any English."

Will looked back to the boy cowering at the foot of the stairs, then turned to face the place where he had seen Jessamine to be lounging in an armchair, her feet dangling over one arm. "Were you intending to tell me why there is a mute foreigner blocking the stairs? Are we taking in strays? I've heard the Chinese make abysmal pets…"

Jessamine didn't laugh at his jape; she never did. "Don't be daft, Will. He's here to see Jem."

Oh. Obvious.

"And has Jem grown tired of him so soon, to leave him unclaimed here in our entry hall?"

"Jem hasn't seen him yet – I think he's still in town with Thomas. They went to get a few necessities for his friend's stay. Charlotte got him from the one o'clock train – told me to watch him."

"And what an admirable job you're doing."

Jessamine gave Will a mischievous look and said, "Oh, I'm watching…" Then she looked pointedly back at Jem's friend, "He looks … delicious."

Will raised an eyebrow but turned back to perform his own appraisal of the boy. Now that Jessie mentioned it … yes, he was rather startlingly beautiful. His brown eyes were so dark they were almost black, perfectly formed, and set delicately in the fine frame of his face. His hair was shiny black velvet. His complexion was flawless – the same delicate skin as Jem's – with perfect white teeth and a fine, soft mouth. His cheekbones were set high, and his nose was a precious little button. He was slim like Jem, too, of an almost identical build. Slight shoulders and a trim waist, with only the subtlest of swells when one came to his hips. He stood with his hands behind his back and his posture was preposterously correct.

Will hummed thoughtfully in the back of his throat. "I suppose he's not awful to look upon," he admitted, grudgingly, then turned back to Jessamine. "But I thought you didn't like Nephilim? You're quite vocal about your preference for mundane men."

Jessamine didn't even bother to look at him when she answered, but let her eyes linger on Jem's friend, caressing the boy in a most indelicate manner with nothing but her gaze. "Who cares?" she said, "He's gorgeous and he's foreign. That's more than enough for me…"

Will considered. Foreign? Was that really a quality one ought to consider when selecting potential paramours? He shook his head to dispel the stray thought. "Well," he said, "I'll be upstairs. Do try not to violate him in the next few hours; Jem will be sure to make a fuss."

Before he left, however, he cast one last wary look towards the stranger. Jem had not told him of any impending visits from old friends … but, he supposed, Jem wasn't obligated to tell him everything.

"I'm watching you," he told the boy with the lovely cheekbones, and then started up the stairs to sulk in private.