No one else

Summary: Set around the end of season 2. Tony comforts his distraught genie.

Disclaimer: "I dream of Jeannie" belongs to Sidney Sheldon Productions or its successors. I don't make any profit of it and I don't want to infringe on any legal rights anyone holds more than I do with this little piece.

A/N: I've had a couple of days off and stumbled over the old series and recalled how much I had loved it when I was a kid and it was shown on TV as the umpteenth rerun and so I started watching again. I really think it's one of the few series that can never really die or be forgotten. So this is my love declaration for one of the most wonderful TV couples that ever wielded their magic.

The headlights briefly illuminated the porch and trellises of Major Anthony Nelson's dark house before they came to a rest in front of the garage door and the house owner and his best friend Major Roger Healey got out.

"That's odd." commented Tony when he realised that the only light source in the dark house came from the small lamp by the window and his reading chair and he felt a frisson of unease. By now entirely too many people knew about Jeannie ot at least about the bottle the major felt an obsessive attachment to. Sonia, the Russian astronaut and Mrs. Bellows came instantly to mind. And with Mrs. Bellows came Dr. Bellows and with him came NASA followed by generals, scientists and politicians and they all would love to get a hold of a living, breathing genie and misuse her for their own purposes.

All too often Tony woke up in the middle of the night after having a nightmare of them taking her and her bottle away from him with his feet heavy as lead and no matter how much he tried he couldn't get to her when they locked her behind bars like a wild animal and she cried out for her master to come and free her.

So, when things got out of the ordinary Tony was instantly worried about Jeannie. He hastened his steps.

"Tony, Tony... where's the fire?" Roger called out after him coming round the boot to follow his friend.

At the front door Roger had caught up with Tony and followed him into the house. Reflexively Tony felt for the light switch by the door and turned the lights on. The living-room looked undisturbed.

"Jeannie?... Are you there, Jeannie?"

The astronaut looked into his bedroom and called up the stairs. But there was no bubbly genie to greet him with a happy smile.

"Darling?" he called out again. But there was no answer and the house was silent. Tony's unease escalated to worry and he ran into the kitchen and looked out to the backyard while passing the patio doors. Maybe Jeannie was out there in the dark for some reason?

"Tony, what's the matter with you? Jeannie's not back yet. So what? Didn't you tell me she went this morning to Baghdad to meet up with some old genie friends of hers for some sort of a class reunion? So let the girl have some fun for a change. You know how these go. You start talking and learn who's married, who's divorced and who's still unattached? Who's got the best job and makes the most money? Whose life went down the drain, who's got fat and who's got the most kids and you end up asking yourself, did I really go to school with this bunch of weirdos and bores? And that's only the twenty years' reunion. Imagine how it is for a bunch of girls that haven't seen each other for over two thousand years! If you ask me, you'll be lucky to see her the day after tomorrow at morning for breakfast, hungover and overtired. Now, the general wants to have this report on his desk first thing in the morning, so let's get started."

But Tony hadn't listened to his friend, who was probably right, but he couldn't help it. He felt it in his very bones that something was wrong. Something was very wrong with Jeannie and he couldn't properly think about any reports or generals before he didn't know what it was and what he needed to brace himself for. He stepped up to his desk to see if at least her bottle was still there. Carefully he picked it up to peer inside and felt almost overwhelming relief. There she was, his little girl, curled up against her favourite pillows in the flickering light of her two-armed oil-lamp. But why didn't she come out to greet him? He looked closer and weren't her shoulders shaking? Was she... crying? He held his ear against the opening of the bottle. Indeed, he thought he could make out faint sobs. Jeannie was crying bitter tears!

And the astronaut went into full protection mode. If anyone had hurt Jeannie, he would... Well, there was no rock small enough that person could crawl under. He would find them and he would make them pay!

"Jeannie, please come out. Or blink me in... Roger, could you start on the report? Maybe rework the section about the expected fuel consumption with the new propulsion? I'll give you a call later."

"What's wrong? Jeannie in her bottle?" The happy-go-lucky astronaut got concerned. Even if she belonged in more than one way to his best friend, it didn't mean that the blonde whirlwind hadn't carved out a niche in his heart for herself. His friend nodded.

"It's okay, Tony. I'll call a cab. Go and take care of Jeannie."

"No, just take my car." Tony fished out his keys from his pocket and gave them to Roger, already turning away from him and fully concentrating on the bottle in his hand.

"Darling, please come out and tell me what happened." He coaxed her softly. The front door fell shut.

"Jeannie...sweetheart, if you don't want to come out I understand. Roger's gone. But Jeannie...blink me in. You have me all worried about you."

He went over to his couch with the bottle and looked expectantly at it sitting on his table and he waited for her to appear or for him to reappear in her cosy bottle. Eventually the familiar pink smoke came out. Tony took a breath of relief.

When she had fully materialised on his table he jumped off the couch holding out his open arms to let her fall into.

"Shush, darling...It's alright. I'm here."

"Oh, master, it was horrible." She clung to him and Tony did his best to enfold her in a protective hug, looking for the extra bit of patience within him to give her time to tell him her grievances when she was ready to talk. From time to time he pressed a soft kiss into her hair while he rocked her gently, reassuring her he was there for her. Eventually her loud sobs got quieter and finally he held a silent woman in his arms, still feeling tiny tremors wrecking her body from time to time. Slowly he pulled away from her to look into her face.

But she didn't look up, so he put a finger under her chin and gently lifted her face up to him. Her nose was all red and her beautiful blue eyes almost swollen shut: a testament to hours of crying. He felt his heart breaking for her. What on Earth had happened to her on this reunion? Trying to hide his agitation he reached for his handkerchief and began to dab slowly and carefully at her eyes, wiping away dried tears and a bit of snot. Bravely Jeannie tried to smile for him, but it fell painfully short. Silently he held out his handkerchief for her to blow her nose.

"Better?" he asked softly.

Wanting badly to say yes, yet not wanting to lie to her master Jeannie shrugged.

"Come." Slowly they walked towards the kitchen, where Tony got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it up from the water tap with one hand while holding her with his other arm. "Drink. Are you hungry, too?"

She shook her head but accepted the water.

"Sure? When have you eaten last?" He watched her concerned.

"In Baghdad... at the reunion. I had a piece of baklava."

"But that's hours ago. Come, you need to eat something, please. Look, I'll make you..." he went over to the fridge. Mushrooms, tomatoes, cheese, milk, eggs... Perfect. The fridge was fully stocked. Ever since Dr. Bellows had unexpectedly come by and found an empty larder and fridge and Tony had to come up with one of his wild excuses, Jeannie made sure both would hold up against another impromptu inspection of Dr. Bellows at any time. "... an omelette, alright?"

"Can you cook, master?"

"Well, I think I can do well enough to make you an omelette. My mom made sure I knew some basics, before I left for college. Now, little lady, I want you to sit just over here and watch." He picked her up and sat her on the counter.

"Now, first we need to mix the milk with the eggs..." He began opening many cupboard doors in search of... "Jeannie, where did you put the mixing bowl? And where is the egg whisk?" He sighed. "I'll tell you, once you let a woman into your kitchen, she takes over and you never find anything again." He addressed the ceiling by exaggerating his exasperation with her. When he heard a small giggle he quickly turned away to hide his small pleased smile. At last her mood seemed to be picking up, so he would keep up his clowning around for her.

"Ta da!" With a flourish he presented his oeuvre on a plate to her. "Now eat and then you tell me, what this was all about, okay? I only want to help you, you know."

Seeing her face fall again Tony felt like kicking himself. All the effort for naught. He sighed and helped her down from the counter. Determined to bring back her smile and he ushered her out to the dining table. Pouring her another glass of water he fixed her with a masterful glare. "Eat."

After a couple of bites he gave her points for trying and let her off the hook. He had known before she wouldn't eat it all. "It's really been good, master. But I'm just not hungry. Are you displeased with me?"

"No, Jeannie. I'm just glad you've eaten at least that much. Let's sit on the couch, shall we?"

She followed most reluctantly, but relented, when he pulled her down into his lap and looked at her expectantly.

"Oh, master, I do not wish to bother you with this silly stuff." She fiddled with the hem of her pink veil.

"Jeannie, you've been crying. Please don't tell me it's nothing, hmh?"

"It's just... Am I a bad genie?"

"What? What has that brought on? Of course not! You're the best genie I know." He gently squeezed her waist.

"I am the only genie you know, master." She corrected him gently.

"Now tell me, what this is really about. Didn't you have a good time in Baghdad?"

She nodded bubbly.

"Oh yes, master. It was wonderful. I've seen all my friends again. And we told so many funny stories and we laughed all the time. And I was so happy."

"But?"

"But then we got to talking about our current masters." Her voice went flat.

Tony tensed up, not liking the turn of the conversation.

"They told me all about the sultans, pashas and kings they serve. And they live in huge palaces with lots of servants and their masters are all powerful. And then I told them all about you. How good you are to me even if I constantly mess things up for you and how wonderful and handsome you are. That you are an astronaut and how important that job is and that we live in a cute house... But they didn't listen. They just laughed at me and told me I was a bad genie. And they said so many mean things about you."

"Me? But they don't know me." Tony chuckled embarrassed.

"They said you should be ashamed, because you're not the President of the United States and if I were any genie worth her salt, you'd sure be."

"But Jeannie, I don't want to be president. I'm an astronaut. I want to be an astronaut."

"I told them, too. And I told them what an astronaut does and then..." She burst anew into tears.

"Hey, hey, none of that. Just tell me."

"Then they were laughing even harder and said I must be cursed first to be cooped up in my bottle for two thousand years only to be stuck now with a lunatic. And if I had any feeling of self-worth and pride, I'd take better care of you and at least make sure you were a rich lunatic."

"Jeannie, do you think I'm a lunatic?" He asked her seriously, because now with the war not going so well in 'nam voices got louder saying that the United States had better take care of the war instead of pumping millions upon millions into an unnecessary space program and from time to time strangers he encountered on the streets accused him of being in uniform but not over there and called him a coward.

"No! I know it is your dream to be an astronaut and take a walk on the moon." Her voice became stern. "Now I do not always agree with you taking such huge risks... And do not say, I'm being silly for worrying, because it is very dangerous for you." Again her voice showed all the love she had in her for him by softening. "But I would never try to take away your dream from you. And I said you don't care about palaces or servants, dancing girls or money or any such things... But it only made them laugh even more." She buried her face in his shoulder.

"Oh, darling Jeannie. They were only laughing at you, because they don't understand. Neither me nor you. And you are the best genie for me. Now look at me and listen carefully." When she looked into his olive eyes, he took her hand in her lap and gave it a light squeeze.

"Jeannie, I think they laughed, because they realised that you, no, we have it so much better than they do." Unconsciously he started playing with her long and lithe fingers.

"I do not understand, master."

"Look, you told me your friends live in huge palaces. But do they really? I mean, are those their palaces or do they live in their bottles in the huge palaces of their masters? This house may not be much, just three rooms, but this is your house, too. We share it. You have command and free reign over all rooms, the patio and all facilities. If you wanted to redecorate again, well, we'd talk it through and then go get new wallpaper and paint samples to see what we like best, maybe buy some new furniture or curtains. Because it's your home, too, Jeannie, isn't it?"

She nodded. Of course, it was her home. She could pop in and out of her bottle any time she wished and use the kitchen appliances if she wanted to play modern American housewife or watch TV. She wasn't confined to her bottle like some of the others only to be let out when their masters wanted to have a wish fulfilled.

"And I assume the sheiks and sultans all have big stables with lots of chariots and horses. But are your friends allowed to take a horse and a chariot and go for a drive? If I don't need the car, you can use it to drive around, now that you finally got the hang of driving it and actually have a driving licence, Miss Gordon from Denver."

Again she nodded. It had been a hard fight with her master, but eventually he had relented after that incident with the traffic officer and had given her a couple of lessons and helped her pass the test.

"And all the riches they gave their masters... All presents they might receive in return, isn't it as if they gave themselves the presents? I may not be able to afford to give you another lion, but what I do give you, isn't it earned by myself with hard work? And all the other genies have to share their masters with an army of servants, perhaps wives and children. Here, there's no one but us."

She brightened visibly up.

"And don't you have all the freedom to come and go as you please? You don't need to ask for permission, if you want to visit with friends and family or go shopping in old Alexandria and pop in to Cleopatra's for a chat, if you feel like it? And do their masters take them out for dinner and dancing or go to the theatre or where ever else they might want to go to?"

"Oh, they never do."

"But you have and you can and I do. Aren't you infinitely luckier than they?"

"Oh master, you're right. You're wonderful. We have it so much better than they." She beamed at him before her head dropped back onto his broad shoulder. It was just wide enough to let her head rest there comfortably.

"And what about the immaterial things we share? How many masters, do you think, know about their genie's favourite food or even are interested to know the million and one thing that's worth to know about one's genie? Do they know that you love oranges but dislike cherries? That you love Mickey Mouse cartoons and Mr. Ed because of the horse's funny movements with its mouth? That you love to go dancing and one of your favourite past times is star-gazing with me in warm nights down on the beach when we're snuggled up against each other on a blanket and we listen to the waves running up the shore? That you cry happy tears at the end of Breakfast at Tiffany, no matter how often we watch it? That you screamed the cinema down, when I bit you in the neck while we were watching The Fearless Vampire Killers?"

"That was a rotten thing to do, master!" She pulled her head up to give him a reproachful look, which he chuckled away.

"Perhaps. But I just couldn't help myself. You were so deep into the story."

"You were just lucky that you were wearing casual wear instead of your uniform when they kicked us out. I don't think that General Peterson would have appreciated learning that one of his majors behaved like a naughty first lieutenant."

"No, probably not. Still, it would have been worth a reprimand from him." Tony smiled self-satisfied in remembrance.

She snuggled back into his side, tightening her hold of him, which he reciprocated.

"How many would know the reason their genie got sad, when they walked across the old Forum Romanum when we were in Rome? Because you remembered the time when you walked across it and it was bustling and how many would care that you didn't see the ruins, but the vibrant metropolis of emperor Augustus and you got lost in memories for a bit? And how many would care that their genies are still struggling to adjust to this time, when everything is so very different compared to what they knew two thousand years ago?"

He started caressing her arm.

"How many of them look at their genies and djinns and see the person beneath the uniform and beyond their usefulness to their masters? Jeannie, when I look at you I see a beautiful, warm-hearted, sensitive, smart and caring woman who has her own head, her own likes and dislikes, her own thoughts and dreams, hopes and wishes. I see a real person. I see you, the whole of you, not just what you can do for me. And I know without any doubt that there's no master better being cared of than I am. You put me and my wishes ahead of yours, all the time, which makes me feel guilty sometimes to be honest. You know that I'm grumpy in the morning before I have my first cup of coffee and you accept it. You let me yell at you up to a point, because you know I never really mean it when my temper gets the better of me because you got me into trouble again, because you know I'll always forgive you at the end. Tell me, which other genie thinks of her master first thing in the morning and thinks of them as the last thing before they fall asleep? What other genie thinks the universe can be found in the eyes of their master? What other genie... what other woman... will love me the way you do, so completely with your whole heart and soul?"

Tony felt his genie going limp in his embrace and he smiled tenderly.

Whispering to the woman in his lap, he continued. "And whose master will let their genie fall asleep in their arms?"

Tightening his hold on her, he stood up and walked towards his bedroom. It took a bit of manoeuvring, but he managed to open his door without waking her up and gently laid her down on his bed. Quietly he reached over her body to grab his covers and pulled them over her, so she wouldn't get cold. And crouching down next to her, he had one last thing to say to her, the most important thing.

"And who would marry his genie in a heartbeat, only if he could? And whose master could ever love their genie the way I do, my darling? I love you, Jeannie. Do you hear?" Brushing a last kiss into her hair, he straightened up and when he looked down a last time he saw a smile gracing her relaxed face.

Quietly he closed the door behind him and went to the kitchen. He didn't want her to see the dirty dishes first thing in the morning. Turning on the radio and adjusting it to a lower volume he filled the sink with hot water and got down to business. And in a bit he would call Roger to discuss the report and do his part to rework and complete it. And then he'd sit down in his study to draft a list of places he wanted to take Jeannie to in order to show her more of her new home country or why not the entire world? They could travel genie style, maybe book into a hotel for the night and stay there for the weekend. There were so many beautiful and important places he had already been to and wanted her to see, too. Places he had always wanted to go to. How wonderful it would be to experience them with her for the first time? And in return perhaps she could show him more of her world, have him meet her friends through time and space? Maybe they could somehow find a way to merge both worlds and make it their very own, where Cleopatra and Mark Anthony, Nostradamus, Marco Polo, Aristotle or Columbus would dine with them on a regular basis? How about starting in old Rome?

The end