Before we begin, I want you to know a few things. Willard Masters and Vic Rochello are my original characters (my Tony and Roger in this AU). I do not own I Dream of Jeannie, though. These two are imagined as Martin and Lewis, Willard being Jerry Lewis and Vic being Dean Martin. Ok, now you can read it.
Willard Masters sat at his desk in the very empty insurance company building. He hated his job, there was no denying, but at least he had something to do before he transferred from New York to this godforsaken town. The population was so low, the town wasn't even legally considered a town. They had no mayor, no sheriff, and there was only about two hundred people there. If that.
He tapped the pencil in his hand against the dark wood, looking around. He took a look at his watch. He had only a few minutes left. He sighed, actually thinking about leaving early. It would be the first time in his life he's done it, so what harm would it do?
He heard the door open and he stood up a bit to look at the glass doors over the cubicle wall, hoping for a customer. He shook his head in disappointment and sat back down when he noticed it was only his friend, Private (of course, he was honorably discharged when he was in the service for only a little over a year) Vic Rochello.
Vic soon walked to the cubicle, leaning on the wall. He took the lit cigarette out of his mouth. "Hey, Willy," he said.
Willard hated that, but didn't have the heart to tell Vic that. He loved him too much. He put the pencil down. "What?" he asked.
"You get off in a few minutes right?" Vic asked, putting the cigarette out in the ash tray Willard had on his desk.
Willard looked at his watch again as if he hadn't checked it just five seconds before. He nodded, looking back up at Vic. "What do you have planned for the day?" he asked.
"Today?" Vic asked. He shook his head. "I had a phone call with your boss." He pointed a finger at Willard. "You have the rest of the week off."
Willard sighed. Vic had a knack for butting into his life. He stood up, grabbing his jacket. "Why did you go and do that?" he asked, getting into Vic's face. "We had a talk about this. Stay out of my life." He walked around Vic, putting his jacket on.
Vic chuckled as he followed Willard to the exit and out of the small building. "Who put your panties in a bunch?" he asked.
Willard shook his head, looking behind him at Vic. "Sorry," he said. "Shouldn't have taken that out on you."
"Why do I feel like this is about a girl?" Vic asked.
"Not any girl," Willard said, stopping and turning to his best friend. "You met Veronica, right?"
"The red head?" Vic asked, being the type of man that recognized woman by their hair color. It was annoying, but it was something that made Vic... well, Vic.
Willard nodded. "Red hair, cute freckles, amazing-"
"I get it," Vic interrupted. He gestured his hand towards Willard to rush the younger man. "What about her?"
Willard shook his head. "If you don't want to hear what I love about her, why would you want to hear what I have to say?" he asked. He started walking again, not wanting Vic to follow him again.
Vic followed after him again. "You're right," he said. "I don't care. Now about this time you have off-"
Willard stopped abruptly again and turned to him. Vic had a point. He had a job he hated, a girl who wasn't willing to marry him yet, and to make it worse, he had sleep apnea. He could use a vacation. "What's your plan?" he asked.
Vic looked happy that Willard finally decided to go along with whatever crazy idea he had come up with this time. "I got a yacht," he said.
Willard let out a laugh, looking around then back at Vic. "This is why I never give you the benefit of the doubt," he said. He pointed at Vic. "You got a yacht? Just like that?"
"One of the many perks of being honorably discharged from the army," Vic said with a smile. "Especially when you have a well-known pop. You're just given things."
"Ok, I'll give you the benefit of the time one last time," Willard said, puling the keys to his car out, stepping forward a few steps. "Where would we go?"
"Out on the water, of course," Vic said. "But, you can't do that in the middle of Utah, now, can you?"
"Can you afford to get to an ocean?" Willard asked. He gestured around. "I came here 'cause I couldn't afford living near water."
"No, you couldn't afford New York City," Vic said, opening the passenger side door as Willard walked around the car. "I've got the finances covered. Like I said-"
"Perks of being honorably discharged," Willard said, annoyed. "I know." He climbed into the car, putting his seat belt on as he closed the door.
"And having a well-known pop," Vic said, closing his own door. He looked at Willard, that same mischievous smile on his face. "We can leave as soon as possible and be in Florida by sundown. Leave for the ocean at dawn."
Willard stared at Vic for a few long seconds before sighing and starting the car. "I hate you," he said through a smile.
The next day at around eight in the morning, Willard was on the yacht, hanging around the edge, nearly green in the face. He hadn't been on a boat in years, so he had forgotten that he got seasick easily.
Vic walked up to him, a map in hand. He tapped a finger against the back of Willard's shoulder. "Great news, Willy," he said.
"You found the patches?" Willard asked, turning around, leaning against the railing, looking up at Vic.
"Better," Vic said, but Willard was already groaning with disappointment, finding a chair on the deck. Vic walked over to him, putting the map in front of him, pointing at it. "There's an island not far from here. We can stop there for a little while before getting back to the mainland."
Willard crossed his arms over his stomach, looking at the map, though even seeing the water drawn on the map made him sick. He looked away. "Fine," he said.
Vic sighed, walking away, crumpling up the map in apparent irritation with Willard's lack of participating in everything. It wasn't like it was his fault he got sick. He wouldn't mind spending a few hours on a small island. It actually sounded exciting.
Willard sat on the sand, bundled up in a blanket that Vic had on the yacht. He never once thought it would be so cold at this place. And not only that, it was unpopulated. God knew what kind of creatures lived here behind all these giant rocks. And Vic had left Willard here alone to search for some wood to make a fire.
He looked around a bit. It wasn't even noon yet and he already felt like it was going to get dark soon. He stood up, deciding to explore as he waited for Vic to get back.
He stopped when he was at the one huge rock that was at the edge of the water. He looked down and saw something he didn't expect to see: a bright purple bottle. He looked around him as he bent over, picking up the bottle.
What harm could a simple bottle do at this moment?
Then again, he thought the same thing about a 'simple' ride on Vic's yacht.
But, he kept the bottle, walking around some more. He walked slower due to the fact he was so intrigued with the odd bottle, he was staring at it.
He stopped when he saw a smudge on it. This bottle was too beautiful for any sort of flaws. He licked his thumb before rubbing it against the smudge to get it off.
He dropped the bottle from surprise when a bright pink smoke came out of the tip. He stepped back, looking up to follow the smoke grow in front of him. He nearly fall over when said smoke turned into a beautiful blonde in a pink harem costume, on her knees, head bowed down, hands together in front of her, speaking what sounded like Arabic.
"Vic!" he yelled out when he could speak again, throwing his arms up into the air.
The woman stood up, looking up with a smile. But the smile soon vanished for what Willard determined as disappointment in seeing him. She spoke in Arabic once again.
Willard calmed himself down a bit when he could tell she wasn't a threat. At least, for now. He gestured both hands to himself. "I don't know what you're saying," he said with a shake of his head. "Do you speak English?"
The woman tilted her head in confusion. She shrugged and walked up to him, not giving him time to react before she put her arms around his neck, kissing him on the lips.
Willard's eyes went wide. He should only be kissing Veronica. But, those lips. This woman from the bottle sure knew-
Woman in a bottle. Genie in a bottle. She was a genie!
Willard grabbed onto her arms, pulling her away from him. "You're a genie!" he said, stepping back and letting go of her. "That means I get three wishes, right?"
The genie smiled and nodded her head, not bothering to respond with words. So she could understand English, but she couldn't speak it.
Willard knew he might regret this, but he could make up for it with his other two wishes. He pointed at her. "I wish you could speak English so we can communicate," he said. Maybe subconsciously he was using this as a test to see if he was right and not crazy.
The genie smiled, spreading her arms out before crossing them over each other. She nodded her head once, blinking at the same time then lowered her arms. "Oh, Master!" she exclaimed.
"Master?" Willard asked. He shook his head. "You don't understand. I'm not a master."
"But thou art the one that does not understand," the genie, which Willard has decided to call Jeannie from here on out, said, shaking her head. "You found the bottle, did you not?"
Willard crossed his arms, pursing out his bottom lip. "Of course!" he said.
Jeannie smiled. "Than I am a slave to you," she said. "Ask anything you wish and I shall grant it."
"A slave?" Willard asked, lowering his arms. "That's no way for a woman to live her life." He walked closer to her, putting his hands on her arms. "Anything I wish? I wish you to be set free from your bonds of being a genie."
"But, Master," Jeannie started.
"No buts," Willard said, lifting a finger. "You're free to do what you want now."
"You do not want to be rescued?" Jeannie asked.
"I don't need rescuing," Willard said with a smile. "I'm here with my friend on purpose. We won't be here forever." He pointed behind him at the yacht. "That's our boat."
Jeannie looked past Willard then back at him. "I am free to do as I wish?" she asked.
"Anything," Willard said. He looked around and could see Vic coming back this way. He looked back at Jeannie, only to see her smoke going back into th bottle. He sighed. "Sorry it had to be that way," he whispered.
Is this the end of Jeannie? Or will she show up again?
If you know the show, yes. Yes, she will.