Sick Day
One shot set between 2nd and 3rd books.
I'm sorry. It's late and I want slash (natxbart). couldn't think of proper spell type talk but it doesn't impact the story.
Forgot something: this is the result of a pervert reading Jonathan Strouds Bartimaeus Trilogy. She dose not own any of it unless she manages to go back in time and... never mind. She doesn't own it or them... hm, that would be nice...
COMMENT. NO MATTER WHAT. Here are some suggestions of how to start if you
can't think of anything:
_____ part of it should be cut out completely, it sucks.
I'm very offended that_______
BITCH! You murdered soandso bit of the story that I loved!
I stopped reading at_______
can anyone think of another name for PJs that wouldn't ruin the mood?
ok now to the story:
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It was that new secretary this time, that Piper woman, who called me. She looked pretty frazzled.
"Bartimaeus, the fallowing is your charge!" She's so amateur, so boring. "Look after Mr. John Mandrake and be his nurse until-"
"NURSE?" I ask incredulously.
"Well yes. Take care of him and help him regain his health..."
"He's sick? Is it fatal?"
"No, but he's very inconvenienced."
"Oh, poo."
"I wouldn't give you this task, but he won't let me hire a nurse and you seem to be his favorite servant... although you do seem to get into a lot of arguments... don't do any of that for the time being." 'Favorite servant'? More like most tortured slave. I really don't get humans....
"...He's in his room and I've already tried to make him comfortable with pillows and such, so you don't have much to do really..." She hesitated, looking for loopholes. "I send you to complete this task!"
"Whatever." I disappear in a swirl of smoke the scent of dirty dippers.
Ptolemy's form appeared in the middle of Mr. Mandrakes boring but expensive bed room. I could smell one of those aromatic headache medicines that only make things worse. I wrinkled my nose and went searching for it's source. it was a bole by the side of his bed full of icky blue liquid. A little towel was soaking in it, absorbing its stench. I picked it up and tossed it out the window (which I did open first to avoid a huge crash. I liked my master better for some reason when he wasn't awake and ordering me around).
Now that that was over with Ptolemys smug face turned to the beds occupant. John Mandrake was sweating profusely. His cheeks were flushed and he was breathing heavily. The pillows and blankets that Piper had so thoughtfully arranged looked like they were smothering him.
Sighing, I walked to the side of the bed and preceded to undo the sheets. Even after shoving all but one of his pillows on the floor and throwing the heavy blankets across the room, his state hadn't really improved. In fact, I could now feel the heat coming off of him in waves. So I undid the front of his night shirt and removed his bed socks. A slight difference. What I really needed was a cool, wet rag of some type... like the one I'd thrown out the window. Dang it. I refused to bring that smell back into the room. One rag wouldn't nearly do the job either.
I took a deep breath and, keeping the beautiful shape of Ptolomy, I changed the tactile aspects. Now the body was soft, cool, and soothing. I lay over Mandrakes prone form. He flinched a bit at the sudden cold but then he relaxed. Ptolomys face pressed into the side of his neck cooling the blood flowing through his jugular. My arms were wrapped around and under his to get at the Subclavian vessels. Our bare chests were pressed together. One of my legs was between his to be close to the Femoral vessels. The calming effect of my skin probably didn't get to his organs but it loosened his tense muscles.
My form being of a 14 year old Ptolemy and him being 16 I wasn't tall enough to cover him or even touch his toes with my own. It would work though. His fever might already be going down.
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To keep myself from going insane with boredom I'd been dissecting every detail around me and absorbing it. The traffic and wind outside, emergency syrians in the distance, the murmuring of all the enslaved spirits in the neighborhood(it being a magicians neighborhood), the heart beat under me, the breath in his lungs...
I shifted a little and noticed something odd. There was less room for my left leg between his. The other thing between his legs had slowly grown. If I were human I would've turned brick red. As it was my amazing and always active, philosophical, ingenious(choose whatever adjective you like) mind was rendered speechless and motionless. I picked my self up to get a better look and confirm what I felt but Mandrake moved to. He rolled over so that I was beneath him now. His hand cupped Ptolemys hip. He was still asleep. He was still hard.
This was ridiculous and humiliating. I bit his shoulder hard. He yelped and awoke suddenly. "Bartimaeus? What... uh...?" I glared at him but then, realized there was a lot of stuff in this situation that I could use against him. A slow grin spread across Ptolemys face.
"Oh, I do wonder what you were dreaming about." He blushed to the tips of his hair. "Hm, such adolescent, animal emotions in a minister. Tut tut. If only they knew..." I think he stopped breathing. There was no specific 'They' that I was referring to but his paranoid magicians mind would invent someone.
"You... you wouldn't..."
"Oh, don't think it's bad enough yet?" Although he had put nearly a foot of space between us he was still on top of me. I came up to meat him. He tried to pull back but I just followed his movement, my arm round his neck kept our mouths stuck together. My other hand slipped down the front of his pants. Even weaker than normal his attempts to escape soon came to an end. I kept him up in our siting position. Now, he started to feel what I was doing.
"S-stop....ah..! I ...order you to- Mwh- ahhhhhh!" He tried this aproch a few times but every time I interrupted him with a kiss or a touch in a new place. Really starting to enjoy this I licked some tears off his face. "Crying too? You don't look much like a leader right now."
"Pleas..." he murmured, stopping me in my tracks. Did he say pleas? I'd never seen a magician admit helplessness even in situations much worse than this, stubborn in their images of themselves 'til the end.
His breath was heavy but had now lost it's agitated pace. His body was limp. his eyes were closed. He'd fainted. Not surprising considering how sick he'd looked when I came in but, with that word it hit me hard.
After staring for a moment I lay him back down in his former position in the bed. He was too hot to cover up again but I rebuttoned his night clothes, having since realized the ....implications of such ..undone attire.
I considered him, and then bent down and put a soft kiss on his lips. This one wasn't ruff or full of malice. It may have not even been sexual. I must have been in shock.
At 11:16 AM the next day Nathaniels eyes cracked open the slightest bit. "Ah, you're finally awake. Wadda' ya want for breakfast? That Piper lady told me to take care of you and I really can't think of a thing besides feeding you. Not that I tried all that hard but all works out the same."
Nathaniel stiffened when he heard the voice. "Bacon? Eggs?... or maybe something to go with that dream you were having earlier? It sounded like an interesting one. 'Bout a girl maybe? Come on you can tell me."
"... just water." John Mandrake decided that it had been a dream but that dreams meant nothing in reality. He just had to focus on regaining his health. Once he got back to work there wold be a lot to do, he was of corse in charge of propaganda for this war now.
The djin looked at him thoughtfully and hopped off the window ledge to fetch his master a glass of water. He looked odd today. John didn't worry about it.
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thanks for reading. pleas don't sue me.
