I do not own SOSF, I Dream of Jeannie or any of the characters related to either show. No profit is made by any of my fan fic writing. It's done for skill development and entertainment.

Jeannie in a Bottle

It had been a long day on the streets of San Francisco, but it was by no means over. Recognizing the need for a break for himself and his young partner, Lieutenant Mike Stone invited Steven Keller to his home for dinner and coffee before they headed back to the night shift.

Mike's daughter, Jeannie, was home on break from her senior year of college and happy to see the pair as they walked through the front door. She had made a favorite of Mike's: meatloaf and mashed potatoes. It was a recipe from his late wife's kitchen. He savored every bite.

"Sweetheart, that was wonderful! Your mother would be so proud," Mike said as he beamed.

Steve also smiled and deeply appreciated the home cooked meal. Single, twenty-something year old men did not often partake in such homestyle cooking, so it, too, was a treat for him. He glanced over to Jeannie briefly and thought of what a talented young woman she was. Smart, sweet and no stranger in the kitchen – plus, he figured, she was also easy on the eyes. Who could ask for more?

"Why don't you kids go to the living room and watch some TV while I make some coffee," Mike suggested.

"Mike, I can do that," Jeannie announced.

"No, that will give me a chance to look at the handle on the coffee pot. I noticed it was a bit loose this morning. You two go on ahead," Mike countered. "Steve, we don't need to go back just yet. Maybe another half hour, okay?"

"Sounds good to me. I need a few moments to digest that good meal anyway," Steve added as he patted his stomach.

He followed the young woman through the swinging door that separated the kitchen and eat-in area from the living room and took a spot on sofa. Jeannie walked across the room and turned on the television set. She cranked the dial around as she noted the various programming. "The news is on most of the stations." Just then, a story broke of a violent nature. Fortunately, it was not local, but it was unsettling just the same.

"No news. No violence. How about something fun? Doesn't channel 13 show reruns of old shows?" Steve suggested.

Without comment, Jeannie turned the dial to "13". She smiled as she heard the familiar theme to "I Dream of Jeannie".

"I always liked the opening of this show. It's kind of fun," Jeannie commented as she took her place on the opposite end of the sofa from Steve.

"I was a fan of this show growing up. It was one of the few that got better when it went to color," Steve said as he remembered some of the early black and white episodes.

"He was cute, too." Jeannie remarked as she pointed to Major Tony Nelson.

"You know, I can't think of his name offhand, but he's a really good actor. Still, he sure reminds me of this guy we investigated a while back. He was a radio deejay," Steve recalled. "What was his name? Oh yeah: Terry Vine. What a jerk."

"What did he do?"

"Well, he was a suspect in a case, but it turns out he didn't do it. But the guy was such an ass, pure and simple."

"Terry Vine was a pig. I remember Mike talking about that case. Apparently, he really pushed your buttons," Jeannie teased. "But Major Nelson is a hunk," Jeannie reasoned.

"I don't know much when it comes to 'hunks' and guys, Jeannie. But she was always a big favorite of mine," Steve said as he pointed to the TV screen.

Jeannie shrugged. "Jeannie? She's okay."

"Okay? She's a living doll," Steve said with a note of exasperation.

"If you like perfect blonds with beautiful hair and a killer figure…"

"Guilty as charged," Steve said with a smile. "Okay, let me ask you this: Jeannie or Samantha?"

It was a question familiar to the generation who grew up watching 60's television. Which was the preference: Samantha Stevens, the beautiful witch who twitched her troubles away, or Jeannie, a knockout genie who could grant wishes with a quick blink?

"Without a doubt, Samantha," Jeannie said immediately.

Steve smirked at the rapid response. "That was quick. Why?"

"Samantha is smart and she's a servant to no one. She's strong and she's able to keep all of her goofy relatives in line."

"But what's wrong with Jeannie?" Steve asked knowing full well the lecture he was about to get.

"Jeannie? Why she calls her man 'master'. Need I say more? I think it's horrible," Jeannie announced as she stuck her nose in the air.

"I don't see what's so wrong with it. I wouldn't mind having a hot blonde babe living in a bottle at my place. She would come out when I need her and then go back in when I don't," Steve goaded.

"Why, Steven James Keller, I didn't know you were such a pig."

"Why, Miss Fancy Pants Stone, I didn't know you knew my middle name. And of course I'm a pig. I carry a badge."

"That's not what I meant," she gasped with a half grin. "You are a male chauvinist. Male. Chauvinist. Pig."

"I am a male. And, indeed, we males are guilty from birth of any number of things. So if I'm guilty, I might as well wish for what I'm not going to get," he said as he turned his head back to the television. "A hot blonde babe in a bottle."

"Men!" she nearly shouted at the detective and then turned her head back to the TV in a pout.

Steve was quiet for exactly six seconds and then slowly, in a sing-song voice said, "I think you're jealous. I think you want it to be a genie. Jeannie." He added her name for obnoxious emphasis.

"I do not," she said as she fixed a glare his way.

"You can't even say it," Steve prodded.

"Say what?" Jeannie demanded.

"Mas-ter," Steve teased. Jeannie wanted to wipe the smirk off his handsome, albeit currently insufferable, face.

"I won't say it."

"You can't say it, Jeannie. You are so tightly wound with all of your women's lib talking points, that you can't take a joke or anything that's halfway lighthearted for fear it would set your cause back one hundred years." He knew he had crossed the line on this one and waited to learn his fate.

Jeannie stayed quiet with her mouth clamped shut. She knew that Steve was very much for women's rights and very progressive in his thinking. However, she also knew that when the two of them got together, they could get fairly rough with each other through teasing. At the moment, she was on the business end of some serious mocking.

"I can take a joke. After all, you're here," she countered with her wagging eyebrows high.

Steve's mouth dropped at the insult. "Oh, so it's going to be that way, huh?" he added playfully. He reached over and pretended to tickle her.

"Don't you dare!" she said as she jumped back in her seat.

"I won't…if you…call me master." He squinted his eyes and his nose at his prey.

She stuck her tongue out in response.

"Mas-ter," he whispered menacingly.

"Daddy, your partner is being a jerk!" Jeannie playfully called out to her father who was now in the garage getting a screwdriver to fix the handle on the coffee pot.

"I heard your dad go out to your garage two minutes ago. He can't hear you," Steve's voice was still in sing-song mode. "Now, which is it? Me tickle you until your father comes back or you folding your arms and doing your best "Jeannie" impression?"

"I'll give you a Jeannie impression, right in your jaw," she grinned as she made her threat.

"Violence is never the answer, my dear. Now…" he began as he scooted closer to his friend.

"Okay, okay." Jeannie folded her arms and began to do the famous Jeannie blink.

"Nope, not yet," he ordered. "You need to show a little bit of your midriff. Lift your shirt up a bit."

Now it was Jeannie's turn to drop her jaw. Jeannie pretended to gasp at Steve's flirting, and was actually happy with the mildly decadent request.

"Fine," she said as she loosely tucked the bottom of her shirt under the band of her bra. Then she folded her arms and said sarcastically, "Yes, Master."

"Say it nicer," Steve instructed.

"Yes, Master," Jeannie said grimly.

"Nicer," Steve repeated.

She sighed, squinted and then put on a sexy, alluring smile. "Yes, Master."

Steve spent a moment to simply take in the sight. The fact was he very much enjoyed her little show. His expression changed from the smart-assed smirk he displayed seconds earlier to one of interest and slight embarrassment.

She saw the look in his eyes and knew that reaction was what she wanted. They'd known each other for years and had a history of light hearted joking with each other. But of late, as Jeannie matured and Steve treated her more as an equal, the teasing had taken a slightly more risqué turn.

He cleared his throat. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" Steve said as he sought to recover.

"No, Master," Jeannie pressed in a low sultry voice. She quickly adjusted her sitting position as she now was perched on her knees next to Steve. "What can I do to make thee happy? Shall I massage thy feet or give thee a shoulder rub?" She flashed her blue eyes in such a way that Steve nearly fell off the sofa.

He swallowed hard as he tried to respond. Jeannie had quickly gained the upper hand, and if he wasn't careful, he could inadvertently reveal how he really felt about his partner's daughter. Tonight was not the night for such a revelation.

He wanted to bolt for the kitchen, perhaps grabbing a nice cool drink of water in the process, and go wait for Mike in the car. Knowing he couldn't really do that, he decided to tap into the character of Major Nelson.

"Now, you know there, Jeannie, I think you've done quite enough tonight. Why don't you just rest yourself there?" Steve did an amazing Major Nelson imitation, down to the slight Texan drawl.

"But Master," Jeannie pleaded.

"Now, Jeannie. As your master, I order you to obey me." While Steve's voice mimicked Major Nelson, the smile now was all his.

The pair caught each other's glance and held it for what seemed an eternity. After a few awkward seconds, Jeannie simply said, "Well." She smiled shyly, untucked her knees and lowered her shirt to cover her midriff area, never once taking her eyes off of Steve.

"Well," Steve answered back as he watched her slip the material over her belly.

"Well," Mike said standing behind the pair holding a tray and three coffee cups.

Both Steve and Jeannie jumped. Steve looked over to Jeannie and tried to save the moment.

"Dr. Bellows!" he greeted, once again in character without missing a beat. "What a surprise!"

"I'll bet it was a surprise," Mike grumbled as he cast Steve a dirty look. Jeannie giggled as her "Master" blushed.

"Dr. Bellows, do not be upset with thee. Major Nelson was just trying to educate me, a poor genie living in a bottle all these years, on what men of his time look for in a woman."

"I don't even want to think about what that really means," Mike answered as he handed the couple their coffee. "Isn't there something else on? The news, perhaps? You don't have a problem with me switching the station, do you?"

"No," they both responded quietly but in unison. Play time was over. Mike quickly walked over and turned the channel.

"Good, I never was that big on "Jeannie". I was much more of a Samantha Stevens man myself," Mike commented as he sat down, wedging himself between his daughter and his partner.