Disclaimer: CotL's P B Kerr's. Duh.
Author's Note: Okay, there's gonna be some spoilers for Book 6 (well, not too many. But take caution anyways) and a few things in the beginning might not make sense…
Okay, so… WHERE WAS DYBBUK? Omigosh, I read that whole thing and they only mentioned him three times! Twice when they talked about Groanin's arm and once with the ink drop thing…. That's how I got this idea.
Anyways, there's not nearly enough Philippa/Dybbuk in this world, so I'm making some more. Maybe the next book will have some.
Since Dybbuk/Buck's fate was left pretty ambiguous, I'm kinda putting my own spin on this. This takes place in the future, BTW.
I've been working on this for a little while, so enjoy! And please, review!
:D
…
It all started with a drop of ink…
Well, maybe not just a drop of ink. There was a little more to it.
Philippa Gaunt was a djinn, and a powerful one at that. She held amazing powers that most couldn't even dream of. She was a good djinn, though, a Marid djinn, and like all good djinn, she followed the customs and traditions set out by the djinns who preceded her.
It was a common practice for the djinn of the good tribes, the Marid, Jann and Jinn, once they reached a certain age, to go out in the world and bring about a certain change. Much like a Taranushi when one turns fourteen, good djinn are expected to do an Offizielle once they reached the age of twenty-one.
Philippa Gaunt and her twin brother John were arriving at that age. In the same manner as a Taranushi, one must go somewhere without the knowledge of others and find a single, deserving person. But instead of granting them three wishes, they must use their djinn power to guide that person onto the right path in life.
The whole idea of this Offizielle made Philippa think of one person in particular. And old friend that she never was able to forget. She still remembered the day he turned his back on her and the horrible events that caused it.
She wanted to find him and help him and guide him back to the right path. Except, that, she had no idea where he was- whether he was still alive or not. How could she find him? Out of the billions of people on Earth, how could she narrow it down?
And that's where the ink drop came in…
Philippa did some research and came across an old method called ink drop divination. She bought a bottle of ink, dropped a single drop onto a silver plate and looked in.
Philippa couldn't believe what she saw.
Dybbuk was alive. So was Buck.
And she was going to find them.
…
"That'll be $12.99 please," the cashier said without looking up. Philippa didn't hear him; she was lost in thought- lost in the cashier's ever so familiar face. Was it really him? Was it really Buck? Had she really found him? When she had looked into that ink drop, part of her thought she was just imagining it. That little ink drop had been right when it showed her where to find him.
Philippa bit her lip. What would she say when he would look up and recognize her? A little butterfly flew into her stomach.
"Uh, $12.99, please," he said again, this time looking up at the petite redhead. Her piercing emerald eyes got even bigger and even behind her glasses, the excitement her eyes held could be seen. Her thin, glossed pink lips couldn't help but smile and her porcelain cheeks plumped. She brushed a stray bang behind her ear, still smiling.
The cashier rose an eyebrow, his blank face, finally hitting Philippa. She took a closer look at his tanned complexion, his disheveled black hair and his light blue eyes that seemed to harbor some sort of emptiness. Another butterfly flew into her stomach when she realized how attractive he had become over the years.
It was Buck for sure, but… But, he didn't remember her. Her grin faltered and she forced a small smile, pulling out a credit card and handing it to him.
"Uh, are you alright?" he asked, sensing her disappointment. He couldn't help feeling partially responsible.
Philippa sighed, "I'm fine… Actually… I'm not," she huffed. "What's your name?" she asked the man.
"Buck," he answered, handing the card back to her. "Thanks for shopping at Barnes & Noble. Come back again soon," he added, handing her the plastic bag with her purchase in it.
Philippa got the hint that he wanted her to move so he could attend the other customers, but she didn't budge.
"What do you think my name is?" she pressed, observing him carefully.
Buck looked at her bewildered, wondering what this stranger –this gorgeous stranger, but a stranger nonetheless- wanted with him.
"Uh, do I know you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know, do you?" Philippa responded, wanting to hear his reply. But his eyes said it all. All the excitement and mischief was washed from his eyes- it wasn't the same Buck she knew. He had changed… But she wasn't giving up, "Well, what's my name?"
"Um, I guess you look like a Phyllis… I don't know," he said, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
Philippa's lip curled into a smile, "Close," she replied. She grabbed a pen that was sitting on the counter and scribbled something on the back of her receipt. It was a phone number. "I'll be in town for a while, so give me a call, Buck," she waved as she walked out of the store.
"Good god, son. I thought you'd never finish," an old man muttered as he placed his books on the counter. Buck absentmindedly scanned them and rang them up, for his mind was thinking about the lovely redhead that he had just crossed paths with.
And for some reason, he couldn't help but smile.
…
Later that evening…
"Well, hello, there," a smooth voice whispered into Philippa's ear. She was perched over at the bar in the casino, sipping a martini. She wasn't 21 yet, but she was a djinn. She felt man's warm breath at the back of her neck before she turned around to face him.
He was tall, dark and handsome. His toned, muscular body could easily be seen through his white-collared shirt, black dress pants, tuxedo vest and black bow-tie. His shaggy black hair was slicked back, his sapphire eyes gleamed and he was smirking.
Oh yeah, it was Dybbuk. His name tag agreed with Philippa. For the second time that day, she felt another swarm of butterflies flying into her stomach.
"Don't you a have a game of blackjack to deal or something?" Philippa asked, feigning boredom. She brought her perfectly manicured hand up to examine the state of her red-painted nails. She was wearing a sparkly red Jessica-Rabbit-style dress with a slit that went up to her thigh. Red pumps, red earrings and red lipstick along with a light layer of eye-shadow finished the outfit. Her red hair was up in a messy, yet sexy, bun and she left her glasses in her hotel room, opting for contacts instead.
"Aren't you a feisty one?" he smirked. He turned to the bartender, "A round of drinks for us, on me."
Philippa studied him. He certainly wasn't twenty-one like she almost was. He seemed at least in his mid- if not late-twenties. Except for the obvious facial features, he barely resembled his other half.
"Dybbuk," he said, "What's your name?" he asked.
He didn't remember her either.
"Philippa," she answered, poised. "I don't see why you're wasting your time here with me when there are plenty of other girls who would enjoy your company much more."
Truth is, Dybbuk had a thing for redheads. For almost as long as he could remember (which wasn't very long), he'd take a ginger over a blonde or brunette any day. But this particular one, Philippa, was proving to be quite the difficulty.
"I'm always up for a challenge," he bandied. He took a drink, "You from here?" he inquired, taking the time to appreciate the beauty sitting beside him.
"What's it to you?" she countered, taking another sip. She couldn't help but feel he was eyeing her. "Eyes up here, buddy."
Dybbuk looked her in the eye, and shrugged, "Just trying to make small talk."
Philippa had to admit- like his other part, the years had treated him well. And despite his leering, she actually enjoyed his company. Not wanting to drive him away, she gave in.
"No, I'm from New York. I'm here for a little… assignment," she said, for lack of a better word. She smiled, "I couldn't resist swinging by one of the most famous casinos in the world," she lied.
She couldn't resist finding Dybbuk. The casino, on the other hand, wasn't doing too well with her. All this bad luck concentrated in this one little place wasn't doing much to help her stomach, butterflies and all.
"Won anything yet?" Dybbuk asked her, eyebrow rising. Philippa, still carrying a smile, shook her head. "Could I rope you into a game?"
Philippa gave it some mock-thought before shaking her head again, "Sorry, I just don't feel so lucky, right now."
At this, Dybbuk couldn't help but smirk, "Wanna get lucky?"
Philippa, who had just taken a sip of her drink, managed to spew out the entire thing. She brought her hand to her mouth, before looking at Dybbuk again, "A little early for that, don't you think?"
He shrugged, "You set yourself up for it."
Philippa gave a wry smile and a glare before returning to her drink. She shook her head and a curl bounced out from behind her ear.
"Hey, you've got something," Dybbuk whispered, cupping her chin as he gently placed the curl back. For a moment, a magnetic pull drew the two closer together, and Philippa could've sworn she saw a flicker of humanity in his eyes.
He was ostentatious, arrogant, selfish, impulsive and evil, but Philippa couldn't pull herself away. The little crush she had when she was younger soon came fluttering back. So did the butterflies.
She thought he was going to kiss her, but he pulled away and the magic of the moment was gone. Philippa bit her red-stained lip, looking down, but then back at Dybbuk. He was looking down at his drink.
What was she supposed to say?
Why didn't you kiss me? Why don't you remember me? Why do you have to be so damn sexy?
She let out a little groan, rubbing her temple softly.
"Well, its been real, Phil," Dybbuk said, getting up, "I've got some games of blackjack to deal, but I'll see you around," he left, a twinkle in the corner of his eye.
Philippa gave a quick smile and before she knew it, he was already at a table, dealing a group of gorgeous girls some cards. His smirking and their laughing made her unexplainably angry. …Was she… jealous…?
Well, what it was, it wasn't the end. She'd be back, for sure.
...
"Hey," Buck greeted Philippa as she stepped out of the elevator. The night before, on her way back to the hotel, Buck called her and asked her out to lunch. Not having anything else to do, she happily agreed. She told him where she was staying and he agreed to pick her up at the hotel.
"Hey, yourself," Philippa grinned at him, "I didn't think you'd call me," she admitted honestly. Under the circumstances, who would? she thought.
"Well, I never got your name," he replied.
"Philippa," she smiled. "So, uh, where are we going?"
She walked up to him and joined his stride as they walked out of the hotel. The brisk November wind blew her hair and she tried unsuccessfully to fix it. She finally huffed and gave up, crossing her arms across her chest. She was wearing a form-fitting parrot green turtleneck sweater and a complementing dark purple scarf, jeans and brown Ugg boots, perfectly dressed for the weather.
"There's this café like a block from here," Buck suggested. He was wearing a thin black sweater and dark-washed jeans.
"That sounds great," Philippa smiled, looking over at Buck. He was so polite and considerate and almost shy… Nothing at all like the guy she had flirted with the night before. "So, tell me more about yourself… Where'd you grow up?"
"Here, I guess," he shrugged, "I don't remember much about my childhood, to be honest."
This stuck Philippa as strange. Did he not remember anything after the split? That would explain him not recognizing her, but… Then she realized how calm he seemed. Did the cold not affect him?
"Aren't you cold?" Philippa asked curiously.
"Mmm, no, not really," he replied. "I kinda like the cold," he admitted.
"Hmm," Philippa nodded, taking in this information. He seemed truly happy in the cold… Did that mean he wasn't a djinn anymore?
She studied him and his demeanor, almost overwhelmed by the new information she had uncovered. But she had to put her thoughts on hold.
They were at the restaurant.
…
Well, I'm not really sure if I'll continue this. If y'all like it enough, I just might (:
Please leave a review!
