Greetings, to whoever shall read this fic. Thanks for stopping by and hopefully you'd take time to review. Anyway, this is sort of a parody of My Fair Lady, where Nathaniel is sort of Henry Higgins, incredibly arrogant prat, who we still somehow still love (like he is in the book) and Kitty is Eliza Doolittle, feisty and defiant commoner (like she is in the book). I'm afraid that Bartimaeus may not appear in this story, seeing as though I yet to find any relevance with him and the story, but I'll try to work something out. Jane Farrar (I know many people don't like her, but her character is so fun to write on) will be appearing quite a lot, and a number of the magicians. Thanks for clicking on the link and please take time to review! Happy reading...

My Pretty Kitty

Chapter 1

Nathaniel: The Gambling Sort

It was a fine day in the political mile of Westminster and the mood in Whitehall had been quite pleasing for a while. The sun had been very generous with its light and warmth and the workload given to Nathaniel had been very easy to accomplish. It was quite a far cry from the usual dreariness Nathaniel went through each day. Work was usually extremely brutal and the weather had always seemed to be empathizing with the moods Nathaniel had been feeling. The young magician allowed himself a little walk and on the way out he spotted Jane Farrar and decided to ask her to join him. She begrudgingly accepted his invitation to his surprise.

Nathaniel saw no point in denying to himself that Jane Farrar intrigued him. Although he had been witness to her, less than desirable side, his interest had been peaked even more. With her slender frame, lustrous brown hair, and green eyes, she turned the composed young magician into a stuttering little boy with a face, redder than a tomato. It was impossible for him to decipher how she felt about him. Her sleek movements and sultry voice constantly left him in a daze.

The young magician did not think that idle chitchat would appease the sophisticated Jane Farrar. He instantly cursed himself as they stepped out the door, realizing that his skills with women were not as apt as he would like to think, but it was far too late for him to turn back. He summoned all his confidence, and continued on with the promenade.

After they walked short distance in silence, Nathaniel turned around to face his companion with a cocky expression on his face, 'Ms. Farrar, if I may be so audacious, but why had you agreed to accompany me on this walk?'

'Audacity is a trait that I may or may not respect, Mr. Mandrake.' replied Jane calmly, 'I suppose that I accepted your invitation because I wanted to get out of Whitehall as well.' She gave Nathaniel a sidelong glance, 'or would you want me to say that I accepted your invitation due to your resplendent charm?'

Nathaniel's face turned red, but he immediately regained composure, 'I believe that both would be acceptable.' said the young magician with a flippant flick of the wrist, 'Of course I certainly would prefer the latter to the former.'

'Your position has made you quite cocky from when I had first met you John,' said she, her voice huskier than usual, 'I am still deciding whether I find it attractive or not.' She twisted a lock of her gleaming black hair.

'I'd very much prefer the term cocksure Ms. Farrar,' replied Nathaniel with a slight stutter. Apparently he wasn't showing whatever cocksureness he possessed at the moment, 'And I'd like to think that I do have the right to be cocksure, after all, I have worked for everything I have gained,' a burst of insipid passion surged through his mind and exited through his mouth, 'I mean, people everywhere recognize me and they hang onto every word I say!'

'I'm quite sure that you would prefer that term.' she replied evenly, completely aware of the boy's slowly rising aggravation, 'Though how sure are you that your influence does indeed spread so far and wide?'

'Please Ms. Farrar,' scoffed Nathaniel, his better judgment eluding him, 'If I entered a crowded room with a ten gallon hat and spurs on, I could convince everyone that that was the latest fashion, and the day after, everyone would be dressed up as a cowboy! If I told people that lemmings were wonderful pets; everyone would scramble to get one!' Nathaniel knew that he was stretching the truth to a great extent, but his mouth would not stop.

'And why on earth would you want to pull such a trick on everyone?' asked Farrar calmly, an expertly drawn eyebrow cocked up.

'Eh, well,' stuttered the poor boy as he racked his weary mind, 'Of course I wouldn't want to deceive anyone,' Nathaniel began slowly, 'I had just wanted to emphasize to you the extent of my influence to others, though perhaps those examples were not the most appropriate.'

'No, I believe that they bring your point across well enough.'

'Thank you Ms. Farrar.'

A sudden gleam in her green eyes caught Nathaniel off guard. She suddenly stopped walking, and Nathaniel followed the suit with a little gulp, 'Tell me John?' she said, her face dangerously close to Nathaniel's, 'Are you the gambling sort?'


'That woman is completely insane!' muttered Nathaniel as he entered his townhouse. He let go of all his documents and collapsed onto his bed, moaning into the soft pillows and silken sheets, 'Absolutely bonkers.' Nathaniel's mind was in its usual daze, as he thought about his walk with Jane Farrar. His thoughts were muddled and he was left confused yet again.

He yelled out an ancient Czech curse (one he picked up from Bartimaeus), but his profanation was muffled by the plush pillows his face was sunken in. In his mind, he replayed his earlier conversation with the cunning witch, every word spoken and every whiff of perfume he inhaled.

'Tell me John, are you the gambling sort?'

Nathaniel let out an inaudible squeak and felt a hot bead of sweat trickling from behind his ear, 'What are you suggesting, Ms. Farrar?' replied Nathaniel, his voice hoarse and wavering.

'You had just told me that you have quite the influence over everyone,' began Farrar slowly, 'That people would believe every word that came from your rather talkative mouth,' Nathaniel winced at that statement, 'How sure are you?'

'I believe that all the service I've done for the government, and with my current position, people certainly wouldn't turn a deaf ear to my words,' scoffed Nathaniel weakly, still trying to impress the girl, 'I'm sure that they've learned not to judge me by my youth.'

'Hmm, of course,' replied Farrar in a flatly even voice. She appraised Nathaniel lazily, her chiseled features scrunched in thought, 'Now, back to my question Mandrake, are you the gambling sort?'

'If we do return to your question, Ms. Farrar, then we should likewise return to mine,' replied Nathaniel with relative ease, 'What are you suggesting?'

'A wager obviously, you silly boy,' a grin broke out in Farrar's face, and she let out a careless laugh, but it made Nathaniel's eyes narrow with slight apprehension, 'It's all in good fun of course, but how eager are you to prove that your influence is indeed ever so powerful?'

Nathaniel thought about this for a moment, formulating a clever, confident response to her question, 'Ms. Farrar, I believe that you're well aware that I've gambled with my life on several occasions-' in an instant he winced as those words left his mouth, but before he could interject, Farrar had already.

'Perfect,' she said simply, 'Now, I'm sure that you've heard of the the Annual Ball the Prime Minister holds?' Not waiting for a reaction, she continued, 'Well, frankly speaking, it's mostly a whole load of tosh, but it's one of the biggest events the magicians celebrate, and it's in six months I believe.'

'Go on.'

'Well, as in your analogy, you have a room crowded with people, magicians no less, and your undeniable influence,' she said with mocking emphasis. 'Now all you need is your ten gallon hat and lemming, but in this case, your lemming would be a girl. A commoner to be exact,' a malicious grin was spread about her face.

'But commoners are prohibited from attending the Ball, aren't they? The Prime Minister and all of the officials in Parliament would have a fit if one ever attended as a guest.' Elitism was a trait that ran rampant throughout this society.

'Ah, I see that they were not joking about your aptitude, John,' said Farrar, 'You know quite well the reaction you'd receive if they knew that your companion was a commoner. So your task in this wager is to make sure that they do not find out. With your resplendent influence,' she said with a sarcastic flourish, 'Let them all believe that your little date is indeed one of them, and if you do accomplish just that, I shall award you with ten thousand pounds for each month you have to prepare for the ball.' she had finished giving her pitch, 'Now what do you say Mandrake?'

Nathaniel listened intently to her words, and carefully thought over each factor; weighing the sheer load of a total of sixty thousand pounds in his mind, 'What exactly do you get out of this, Ms. Farrar? I cannot see any way that you would profit from this wager.'

'The sure euphoria of seeing you proven wrong is enough of a consolation for me Mandrake.' He felt a slight stab of hurt as she revealed her malicious motives so flippantly.

'Then how certain am I that you would not rat me out, if I did manage to bring the girl to the ball,' countered Nathaniel, quite peeved at her, 'After all, you would have absolutely nothing to lose if the girl's identity had been uncovered.'

'You would have to trust me John,' whispered Farrar in a deathly calm voice, 'Do you trust me?'

Nathaniel glanced at her with a skeptic eye, 'I shall consider your offer Ms Farrar,' he said in a curt voice, 'now, shall we head back?'

The cheery mood of Westminster was suddenly dampened, as if Nathaniel's mood had been dictating its tone. They walked back in total silence as Jane Farrar smiled, surely pleased with herself, and as Nathaniel's thoughts meshed into a large hurricane beneath his stoic exterior.

'I cannot believe how I handled that damned situation,' muttered Nathaniel after he lifted his face from the flattened pillow. Sitting upright on his bed, he cradled his head in his arms and thought harder about the situation he was in.

Making a few more inaudible noises, Nathaniel walked over to his refrigerator, 'If I decline her wager, then she'd hold it over me for all of eternity,' mumbled Nathaniel as he rummaged for something to eat. Grabbing a carrot with a disturbingly large, black spot, he returned to pacing.

As he nibbled absently on the carrot, he continued to ponder his situation, 'Though if I did accept her wager, she'd most likely find some backhanded way to reveal her character, without actually breaking the conditions of the wager,' Nathaniel paused for a second, 'But what exactly are the conditions of the wager?" Thinking to himself, he cursed inwardly, 'And of course another factor would be the girl! What if she's completely unbearable?' Or what if Jane pays her to ruin me, no, but then her life would be in peril as well, unless she's a bloody basket case who wouldn't bother to care?' Nathaniel was too caught up in his monologue to even think about how strange and paranoid he sounded.

After a few random nibbles, Nathaniel glanced at the carrot and immediately recoiled in shook, 'Bloody carrot!' letting out another moan; Nathaniel could not recover himself from his relentless moping. After throwing the rotting carrot into the trash bin, Nathaniel went back to pondering.

'I wonder how we're going to pick the girl,' murmured Nathaniel quietly as he paced relentlessly across his kitchen floor, 'I would probably have to select one, and she'd decide whether or not the girl would be suitable. Or perhaps she'll just drop a girl at my doorstep, without bothering to ask for my approval? Or perhaps she'll be civil about this and let me pick the girl,' Nathaniel immediately scoffed at the idea as it left his lips.

'And of course, another factor would be the bloody ball,' yelled Nathaniel to himself, 'It wouldn't be a pleasant memory to be chased by the Night Police right after attending my first ball,' said Nathaniel dryly, 'And I would barely information about it, Jane wouldn't be likely to tell me a thing about it, and it would be very unorthodox to ask any of the magicians at Whitehall.' Nathaniel knew only a few things about the Prime Minister's Annual Ball, at the beginning of the event, it was an elegant, yet exuberant celebration, but its later half had a more somber mood to it, according to rumors and careless remarks he heard from elder magicians. And of course, commoners were forbidden to attend as guests.

Still the offer was extremely tempting, 'Sixty thousand pounds,' murmured Nathaniel, and he stopped in his steady stride. It was such a large sum to completely comprehend in his befuddled mind, 'If I did succeed in accomplishing her task, I would be rewarded with sixty thousand pounds,' he recited slowly, repeating it in his mind as if it were some sort of mantra, but reality struck his mind once more, 'But what would keep her from actually paying me, she could still rat me out and reveal the plot to her advantage,' Nathaniel thought for a few moments, and found a way to offset that problem, 'An oath! Yes, I will bind her to an oath!' But then Nathaniel's spirits sank as he realized that she would have to agree to it.

Nathaniel paused for a moment, 'I don't need the money,' said the indecisive magician, glancing around at his expensive furniture and exquisite taste. 'It all boils down to pride.' Nathaniel winced to himself. He knew that he could handle being embarrassed in front of a crowd of people, past events have proven that he could. But could he handle the humiliation of Jane Farrar's derisive sneer as he told her that he was too chicken to accept her wager?

Jane Farrar was a very tricky subject; the woman had so many layers of mystery and intrigue that Nathaniel could only attempt to look through them and guess her true intentions. Perhaps she had it in for him, and this was some sick trap she had hatched to lead him to his demise? Or perhaps she was speaking honestly to him a while ago, when she said that it was all in "good fun."

Weighing out the pros and cons of the dilemma plaguing his mind, Nathaniel had made his decision. After a few more moments of pondering, Nathaniel left his kitchen and picked up the handset of his phone. He punched a series of numbers and held the handset to his ear. With bated breath, he waited to hear the other end of the line answer as the monotonous ringing sounded in his ear.

'Good Evening, may I ask who is calling?'

'Ms. Farrar, it's John,' Nathaniel gulped silently, 'I've decided to accept your wager...


Yawn, it's late at night and my writing skills are quite sloppy, I'd imagine. So, sorry for whatever crappiness came your way with the Neurotic Nathaniel and whatnot. Thank you so much for reading all the way though. I hope that they're not too out of character, and please, if they are or are not, tell me in a review. I would really like to hear whether or not it stank, and don't be afraid to nitpick for mistakes, because I know that there' is always room for improvement. Happy reviewing!