Author's Note: A gift story for Omicron the IceQueen, and a lot of fun to just mull over while I was working on it. Here's for you, Omi; hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimers: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any of the aspects in it. Cassidy the paper witch belongs to Omicron. Simon and Jafar, on the other hand, are my own creations.

The centuries-old caster sighed as he stared out the window, hawk yellow eyes focused on the pouring rain as it smattered against the glass, tapping out rhythmic patterns that – to his own thinking – reminded him of elven drums when heard at a distance. It was almost enough to make his mind wander off to other ventures, other worlds almost, but he knew far better than to do that. He had his own things he needed to focus on. Important things that he dare not mess up.

After all, it was for is little mistress.

A smile tugged his lips as his deeply tanned face took on a warm, almost day-dreamy expression. He had been fortunate, really, to find Cassidy when he had. Or was it the other way around? In some ways, it was almost as though she found him. Sure, he physically found her first, but at the same time, she had found his card shortly afterwards.

A metallic clank shook him from his wandering thoughts, snapping him back to his attention as he lifted the lid from a pot he had on the stove, hastily pulling his head back as a cloud of steam came from beneath. Shaking his head and blinking rapidly, he fanned steam away from his eyes before looking into the pot and eyeing the contents. He knew what he was looking for, and after stirring the contents and putting the lid back on, he eyed the stove's dials with dislike and botherment. This strange, electrically powered replacement for a cooking fire was making his life considerably more difficult. Even with the tutoring he got from Cassidy's best friend – he would never admit he had to ask Simon how to even use a stove, let alone use it properly – he hated how much control there was. Too many fine details and fussing, too much needing to make sure every knob was exactly where it had to be.

"Cooking at home was never this much of a trial..."

After poking at the stove dials in disgruntled annoyance, he paused to listen closely to the goings on in the other room. Had he heard a book close? Was she really done with that book this quickly?

The squeak of surprise betrayed the answer to his question, and he smiled once more. She'd found the little surprise he'd left in the pages, one that he hoped would keep her from looking at anything but her book and loose pages any time soon. A little note, simple and discreet. That's all it was. However, he'd made sure it would be more intriguing than that. More mysterious.

Okay, there was nothing mysterious about letters swirling about a page, reacting to how the piece of parchment was moved. Nor was there anything vastly weird about there being several of these peculiar pages hidden throughout the book, only really revealing their final phrases when they were all out and beside each other. If strange, flittering letters on a seemingly normal piece of paper didn't keep her attention, Jafar honestly didn't know what would.

His mind began to wander off again, lulled by the sound of rustling paper and the pounding rain. It made him think back on times where it was just himself, nobody to protect or answer to, all alone in his library with his studies... Well, before he was effectively evicted and moved into the Dark One's castle without any real say in the matter, that is. Things were different back then. Quieter. At that point in time he had been content to simply exist and study, with little else to aim his life towards. The thought of being that way made him laugh now that he looked back on it. How much of his life had been wasted away, simply because he lacked the curiosity to explore and see the world he left behind so long ago? "I was foolish back then, thinking life was going to stay feeling so peaceful. If only I knew then what I knew now, how different life would be..."

The rattling of the pot lid caught his attention and he pulled it off without thinking, catching another faceful of steam that left him sputtering and shaking his head as he took a step back. Coughing quietly, he rubbed his face with his hand before frowning at the pot as though it had severely offended him, setting the lid down and scowling into the vessel to see how his progress was.

"Finally!"

"Huh?"

The magician cringed, cursing at his own, joyous outburst. Of course he would draw her attention now that he was almost done. That was just like his typical luck...

"A second page?"

Or not?

Relief swept over him as Jafar let out the breath he had been holding, glad that it was only the second page of swirly letters. Sure, this meant he only had two more in the book, but that wouldn't be near as much of a problem now. No, now his only problem would be making sure the last little bit of his struggles against the modern kitchen would be a success. It was the 'home stretch' now, as he'd heard Simon put it, and he wasn't about to let anything stop his attempts from turning out perfectly.

"What is the 'home stretch' anyway? I do not think houses are capable of stretching. Not any that are normal... I will have to ask him about that later."

The more he puzzled about it, the less sense it made. Homes didn't stretch. They generally didn't even walk. Not in the mortal world, at the very least, and he knew Simon had barely any knowledge on anything magical that was even in this realm in the first place, let alone any others. And even if he did have more experience with magic, the idea of Simon even being optimistic about a house that could move, even in the slightest margin, on its own was farther fetched than the young man suddenly being able to somehow breathe fire.

"Perhaps I should ask Cassidy. She could tell me what it means."

The dreamy, lost-in-a-daydream look took over again as he smiled and closed his eyes. Regardless of wherever his thoughts would stray, they inevitably came back to one anchoring and all-encompassing point. Nothing in his life would be worth near as much to him as Cassidy. If he had to fight off an entire army by himself, he would do so as long as protecting Cassidy was the end goal. Even simply going a day without chattering at her at least once was enough to affect his mood; Mana and Dark One had told him so. Mana in particular got a thrill out of hassling him about 'his fancy', as she called her. Jafar didn't care anymore either; he had Cassidy, and the most the others had was the ability to tease him about her. The thought made him almost giddy.

"What in the world...?"

Third page! Snapping out of his inner – somewhat childish – celebrations, he quickly put his attention back to what he was doing. The timing was flawless so far. Any moment now and his soup would be finished, just in time for her to find the fourth page. He then realized he had a problem: he couldn't for the life of him remember where the bowls were, or the spoons. Come to think of it, he'd never really been shown, and finding everything else was by fluke. Mentally scrambling, he hurriedly started to search the kitchen as quietly as possible, pausing every moment something shifted in the other room, dreading that he was caught before he could complete his – possibly desperate – self-given mission. Luckily for him, nothing changed. Nobody came to figure out just what in the name of Ra he was doing in the kitchen, no cat came to yowl and betray that he was even there, and – he was definitely thankful for this one – nothing set on fire to betray that he did something wrong. All in all, everything had thus far been going his way, and in mere moments it would be completely finishing the way he'd hoped it would.

Smiling in triumphant satisfaction as he finished up and ladled some of the soup out into bowls, he heard the one thing he had been counting on for the last little while of his mad dash.

"Four of them? Why are there... huh... end of the book... Jafar, what are these-" There was a pause. "... What are you doing?"

The magician couldn't help but grin. "I was... ehm... just doing something."

"What?"

"Something...?"

He could hear her get to her feet, waiting as he listened to her drawing closer and finally coming into view. The magician was likely quite a sight to see, standing there with two bowls in his hand and a broad grin on his face. "Something that had to do with dinner?"

For a few moments, Cassidy just stared at him in bewilderment. "You... don't know how to use the stove...?" She asked in confusion.

"I believe this would be that time to quote Simon and point out that I 'learned how to kitchen'."

The comment left his mistress in a fit of giggles, following the magician as he walked out to the living room and set the two bowls down on the table, carefully shuffling any stray papers aside so they didn't get in the way, waiting for her to settle herself down before he seated himself, watching and waiting for her reaction to what he'd made.

"If I managed to somehow fail at something I have been making nearly flawless for the last three or more thousand years, I swear I am cursed."

"Mm!"

Her noise shook him from his mild fretting, leading his gaze to her expression and discovering a cheerful smile. "This is really good Jafar... but... what is it?"

"Soup." He replied simply, smiling happily back at her and inwardly relieved that he hadn't made any crucially devastating errors, not to mention laughing mentally at the blank stare she gave him.

"Well I knew that..." Cassidy mumbled, trying to frown in a convincingly not-impressed way. "But what's in it?"

Jafar didn't answer, not verbally at least. Instead, he lightly tapped the pieces of parchment that were sitting on the table a little ways away, chuckling as he watched his little mistress staring at the reacting letters, which were now re-arranging themselves and sticking in places as they settled where they were supposed to. "This." His yellow eyes glittered with delight as he watched her pick the pages up, studying her expression as she read over the recipe as it formed before her gaze. "It is something my mother used to make for me long ago, and had I not become as I am, I would have likely passed it on to any descendants I had. Given the situation, I felt that, of all the people I could share it with, you would likely appreciate it the most." His smile grew as he chuckled a little. "And now you can share it with whomever you please."

The paper witch blinked a couple times as she smiled up at him, confusion as well as happiness etched on her face. "That's really cool but... why are you spoiling me so much? Did I miss something?" She paused before adding with a quiet giggle of her own. "Did you break something?"

Jafar grinned outright at her now. "More like 'did you forget your own birthday', I think. Simon told me that such things can occur, as well as told me the date of yours, just in case you forgot." He watched as her face turned red, her head tilting down so sheets of perfectly black hair fell in the way, effectively hiding her embarrassment. "You always do that and I never have been told why... but no matter." The magician shifted, shuffling over so he was closer to his mistress before leaning in and kissing the top of her head. "Your soup is getting cold, and I know Simon was going to bring something later on, so it might be wise to finish soon."

A faint gasp of surprise, followed by a quiet rumble of amusement escaped him as he found himself being clung to, laughing quietly as he put an arm around the little woman that was now holding onto him. "Yes, Cassidy?" He inquired, his tone one of amused curiosity.

"Thank you... you didn't have to spoil me you know."

He laughed again, enjoying a selfish moment to just indulge in the fact he didn't have to share her with anyone else for the time being. "I know I did not have to, but that does not mean I will not in spite of it." He let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes, simply content with life in and of its entirety. Nothing would stop him from continuing to spoil his little mistress, he knew that, and no matter what she said to try and dissuade him, he knew it would never work, all for one simple reason.

Because, no matter what happened or who said otherwise, she was his little mistress, and nothing would ever make that change.