Title: The Boy in the Bottle
Pairing: Vlad Masters/Danny Fenton (Maybe more…?)
Summary: Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of I Dream of Jeannie.
Warning: Slash.
Rating: T
I didn't forget! See, if I hadn't put this story online, I seriously would have just let it die (like so many others). However, I'm still getting a couple of favs and watches a week, so… I know somebody somewhere actually would like me to go on. Not that I don't want to finish it for myself as well. I'm just lazy. Haha.
Chapter Seven: Breathe Deep and Count to Ten
Vlad awoke slowly with deep breaths and a flexing of his toes. He felt surprisingly rested, which was indeed something rare when he woke up before his alarm. His jaw popped as he released a powerful yawn and brought his hand up to rub at his eyes. Only, the covers came with his hand, which was odd. Opening his eyes, he saw that his blanket was actually wrapped around his arm like a sleeve. Of course, to be more accurate, it was not his blanket. This seemed more like a cheap, polyester… thing.
"What in the world…?"
Sitting up, he saw that his comforter was indeed gone and he had been cloaked in a… a backwards bathrobe.
He massaged his fingertips over his eyes relaxingly and counted to ten.
"Oh, genie?" he beckoned.
"Yes, Master?" Vlad wasn't even surprised when he felt the boy instantly on his bed, voice going off right in his ear.
"Where is my blanket?" he asked, turning his head to look at the teen. But then, it was that action that allowed him to see further into his bedroom. Boxes. There were boxes everywhere. Some had pictures on them, most were simple, unmarked cardboard. Naturally of course, there were also the relatives of the boxed items family: packing peanuts, styrofoam, bubble wrap, crumpled up newspaper. He could hardly see his floor at all.
And then who could forget the shipped items themselves? Everywhere there were all matters of assorted… junk. "What… is all of this?" Truth be told, he should have received some sort of award for keeping himself even that composed.
"Master, there is this amazing T.V. channel," Danny rambled excitedly, smoothing out the humps in Vlad's 'blanket'. "It has the latest and best things ever and available only from them. Everything I saw made me think of you. But they were only offered for a limited time. I did not want to wake you to have you make a wish, but I did not want you to miss out on the great deals either. So I brought everything here for you. Feel free to thank me now or after you have marveled over your gifts."
And so Vlad counted to ten. When that didn't help, he counted to twenty.
"Listen… Danny," he began. It wasn't that he couldn't dismiss the gifts easily. He received things from people often, and there was always an angle. The question was, what was the boy's? He already had permission to attend the 'party'. "Just… get rid of it, all right? I can't even walk on the floor."
"Rid of it? But I got it all for you. Do you have any idea how rare some of these things are? They are one of a kind," Danny explained, obviously confused by the man's lack of enthusiasm.
"I'd hate to break this to you, my boy, but they're not rare. There's nothing special about any of it. I can almost assure you that every last bit of it is useless junk."
"It is not!" the boy threw back, jumping off the bed. There was a rustle of various things being kicked around as he stomped to the nightstand. "Look at this. It is amazing. It tells time in precise numbers, to the minute, and even projects it onto the ceiling. Hardly useless."
"Yes, I already have a clock, thank you," Vlad sighed, gesturing next to the boy. Only… the thing about his alarm clock was that it wasn't lit up. It was darkened and— if the lonesome plug by the genie's foot was any indication— not hooked up to its power source. "What did you do?" he shouted angrily, tearing open the drawer of the nightstand for his watch. Wonderful, he was half-an-hour late.
"I was just trying to figure out how it worked so I could make this one tell time, too," Danny shot back— equally mad, but with none of the reason.
"You imbecile! I had an alarm set to wake me up," the man growled, trying to free himself from the stupid blanket with sleeves. It was a surprisingly hard thing to do and he heard threads ripping.
"How was I supposed to know a thing like that?" he yelled, following Vlad through the maze of boxes, cheap jewelry, and color printers.
"You're supposed to do what I tell you. And I did not tell you to touch anything of mine other than what I allow." The man kicked several boxes and papers away out of rage. When one didn't move— perhaps causing more than a little bit of pain in his toe— he picked it up and shoved it in the genie's arms. "I'm taking a shower now so I won't be even more late for work. Enjoy your toaster, and try not to touch anymore of my things."
It wasn't but a second after he had shut the door from bedroom to private hall, that Vlad heard the boy yell back, "It is not a toaster. It is a revolutionary oven. And you cannot tell me what to do!" The last particular exclamation was followed by the sound of something— a heavy and boxed something— hitting the door with a loud, scraping sound.
"My door had better be in the exact same condition I last saw it in when I get out," the man retorted arrogantly as he began unbuttoning his pajama top.
—
It wasn't exactly the biggest surprise in the world when he opened the bathroom door to see that the one leading to his bedroom was gone. Just gone, completely gone, hinges and all. Honestly, he might call it relief that it was just the door being gone. He had taken his fastest shower since college. Not only because he was late, but because he had no idea what the boy would do in his absence and with a temper bubbling.
"Where's the door?" he asked with a sigh, arranging the towel around his neck to keep water from getting on his dress shirt.
The genie was sitting on his bed— his bed— trying on the cheap, costume jewelry and looking at himself in a floating mirror. Soundlessly, he pointed to the corner, not taking his eyes off of his reflection. "I fixed the scratched paint," he said plainly.
"Yes, but you removed it from the doorway," Vlad growled. He counted to five, because he really didn't have time for a higher number and that one would just have to do. "Forget it. We'll deal with it later. Just get in your bottle while I finish getting ready."
"Why should I?" the boy asked flatly, rolling his head along his neck in a lazy fashion to stare at the other.
"Because I have to go to work, and, as I said last night, I'm taking you with me." Again he sauntered off into his hallway to pick a suit for the day. "I'd come home and there'd be no doors anywhere," he mumbled to himself.
"I can put it back, you know." Naturally, the teen had followed him, picking at his suits and even pulling one off the hanger. "Just tell me you are sorry for getting angry at me. And after I had done something nice for you."
"Not a chance," Vlad replied, taking his suit jacket from the other. "I only apologize when I don't mean it. But right now, I don't even feel like mustering up that much of an effort." He made a mental note to tell Riter to find him a contractor for re-installing the door later.
The man could actually hear Danny growling, and he saw how his little fists were balled up tight. After a second, he said, "Well, let me help you get dressed so that you will not be even more late." And Vlad supposed that it was a fine show of his reflexes when compared to a magical genie that he couldn't even get a word of dissent out before the other had folded his arms and blinked his eyes. "You look dashing, Master." It was the smile— the frightening, sly smile— that made the man not want to look in the mirror.
But look he did. "This… this is…" There were no words. However, if words were to be used, they would describe how he looked like some Persian sultan. Black and white robes covered every inch of skin but his hands and face. A thick belt of the same cloth clung to his middle and actually covered most of his abdomen with its accents of striped patterns and interwoven golden threads. Around his shoulders hung a thick cape, colored a deep blood red. "I look ridiculous, is how I look," he scoffed. "Now get out of here while I really get dressed."
"Have it your way," the boy shrugged, walking languidly back to the bedroom. He had no sooner sat upon the bed with a smirk that he heard Vlad yell aloud.
"What did you do?" he demanded, stomping into the room. When the genie looked at him quizzically, he added, "I can't get them off." The clothes didn't budge, which was quite an odd sensation. It wasn't like they were glued to his skin. They didn't stick to him or anything of the sort. The thing was that all of it— each layer— simply felt too heavy to pick up. Of course, he knew that wasn't really it, or he would be floored by the weight of it all. He just seemed to lack the strength to move them. "Take them off. Take them off now." And, truth be told, he was going to have to find a better anger management system than counting numbers.
"But you look good," Danny said, standing to adjust the clothes here and there, as if they weighed nothing to him, and wasn't that just the taunting thing to do?
"You can't play me like this," Vlad argued, swatting the other's hands away. "You can't twist things around when I don't even make a wish."
"If you would like to read the genie manual sometime, you will find that I can use my powers in extra ways however I want, especially if I think it helps my master."
And there Vlad was, staring down a two-millennium-old genie who had the rebellious face of a teenager. Suddenly, he was almost grateful he had been shoved into that acting class in high school. "You're right," he sighed with a light chuckle. "I shouldn't have acted so horribly to all the gifts. I'm sure you can understand the overwhelming sight of them all, am I right, my boy?" And then to bring it home, the man ran a tender hand over the boy's shoulder, thumbing the soft, black vest. "But I am sorry. When we get home, you can show me everything you got."
"Aww, Master," he smiled before wrapping arms around him in a hug. Of course, right after that, he heard a spiteful little voice mutter into his chest, "As far as fake apologies go, I suppose that was enough to get me to allow you out of those clothes." He pulled away, and with a clever little wink from him, Vlad felt a tingle in the robes where they touched him.
"Finally," he muttered, shucking the cape and belt as he walked back to his closet.
"And Master?" Danny threw at him, jumping onto the bed. "You could have simply wished them off."
Vlad released a vicious sounding sigh, muttered several indecent things under his breath, and changed.
—
The next few hours went relatively smoothly, and there was no one as surprised by that fact as Vlad. He'd put the boy in his bottle with his little television, and not a peep had been heard from him until they were about ten minutes from his office. Then, he supposed, the quiet had got to be too much. Vlad had barely had enough time to raise the panel between the back of the limousine and the driver when he saw the dooming appearance of that green smoke coming up.
"Sit and be quiet," he had said as soon as the genie materialized onto one of the leather seats. "You're still on thin ice." And to his great amazement, the boy had done just that. Of course, maybe that was because he was too in awe by the sight of so many people bustling around such tall buildings. It could really send anyone unaccustomed to it quiet.
And so after that short little fiasco, things went along so nicely that Vlad was borderline concerned. Riter had made the morning's mountain of paperwork small, for starters. He'd had a nice phone conversation with Maddie. She would be coming in later than expected, not even arriving until late Sunday morning, but that was of little consequence. After three months, what were a few more hours? Then his secretary had brought him the most delicious new coffee blend at the precise moment he started to actually need the caffeine. Honestly, for a workday it was all going pleasantly.
Luckily, the world righted itself shortly after that, which was good. For a moment Vlad was becoming rather uneasy.
"Genie," he called, taking a sip of coffee and tapping the rim of the bottle where it sat on his desk, presenting itself as some odd knickknack. When the boy didn't show himself Vlad rolled his eyes, sighed, and resorted to using his name. "Danny? Get out here this instant. I have a job for you." Still no smoke.
He heard the door opening then and was glad for a moment that the other was ignoring him. A teenage boy dressed in a harem outfit in his office would be difficult to explain. But, as it turned out, Danny thought ahead and made everything easy on him. Because it wasn't a stranger who walked in the door, but the boy himself. And he wasn't even dressed in his usual garb. No, he was wearing a business suit. How perfect, in the sense that, no, it wasn't perfect— not even okay— at all.
"What are you doing?" Vlad growled at him, jumping up and slamming the door shut. It wasn't until he was out from behind his desk that he noticed the boy wore a skirt with his suit jacket, not pants. "And what are you wearing?"
"Assistant clothes," the boy answered simply, walking the length of the room and placing a small stack of papers on Vlad's desk. "Like the girl that came in earlier. I am replacing her."
"No," the man answered, not taking the time to count his anger out and just slipping the numbers between his words. Maybe it would have somewhat the same effect. Maybe. "You're not. I don't know why you think you have to, or what you—"
"Master, I did not like the way she was flirting with you. You are spoken for. How dare she?" Danny sat on the desk and folded his legs in a quite inelegant way, a manner which no one wearing a skirt should adapt.
"You were trying to make me sleep with you!" Vlad objected loudly, quieting himself when he realized just how loud. "It doesn't matter though. Doesn't matter at all." He ran a hand along his hair and managed to count to six before he gave up and had to speak again. "She was not flirting with me either. I pay her to act nice, so she acts nice. That's all."
"Well, if you are sure of that fact," Danny trailed off, obviously not convinced of it himself.
"I am!" the man said, walking towards the desk and then away again, unconsciously beginning to pace. "And change out of those clothes. Or at least put your legs down!" When he stepped back towards the boy, he knocked his feet off of the desk.
"Coffee, Master?" the genie asked, picking up the nearly empty mug and blinking to refill it again.
Vlad took the offered beverage and sat it back down on the desktop. "If I need more coffee, I'll let my actual secretary get it."
"Hmm? Oh, she left, went home," Danny uttered uninterestedly, picking up his bottle and shooing off stray particles of nonexistent dust.
"Don't be ridiculous. The girl's a professional. She wouldn't…" Vlad paused and turned slowly to face the boy. "What did you do?"
"I told you. She went home… After I sent her there." He mumbled the last part quietly.
"Well, bring her back. Now!" The boy rolled his eyes in exasperation but complied. Vlad shuffled towards the door and opened it slowly, content to see his secretary sitting at her desk, albeit looking rather confused. "Can you erase her memory of having been home?" he asked. Danny looked up at the ceiling in thought for a moment before deciding, yes, he could and nodding his head. "Good. Do that then. And stop taking it upon yourself to do things."
Danny sighed but did as he was told, blinking his regular clothing back on at the same time. "You said you had a job for me, Master?" he asked, pretending the past several minutes hadn't happened.
"Yes, as a matter of fact I do." Once Vlad was sure the girl outside no longer looked hopelessly lost, he closed the door and strode back over to his desk. When he sat down, he opened up one of the desk drawers and pulled out a thin folder. "A competitor," he said, opening the file and pointing at a picture of a man. "I want you to take him out."
"Out where?" the boy asked, studying the picture of the angry looking man who gave off the appearance like he would sooner run a homeless person over with a car than give them a cent.
"No, get rid of him," the man reiterated, not wanting to have to explain further.
Danny thought for a minute before the meaning occurred to him. "Oh. Ohh." For a flash second, a small cocktail of emotions seemed to stir in his green eyes ranging from, resentment to sorrow to utter disappointment. He pulled it altogether quick enough though and answered, "I cannot do that," plainly.
"What kind of powers are those when you can't even… kill someone?" Vlad looked rather skeptical, as if he were more than certain the boy was simply lying to him.
"There are limits to my powers, Master. Certain things I simply cannot do. But I am sure you will figure them all out in time." He finished his words with a little tap of his finger to Vlad's nose.
"Or you could tell them all to me now," he responded, rubbing his nose. He saw the sly shake of the boy's head and realized it wouldn't even be worth the wish to make him tell right at that moment. "Fine then. If I can't kill him, what can I do? He's the last thing standing between me and a very important deal I've been trying to close for months. If I can get this out of the way, my workload will slow down considerably."
"You could always try asking nicely?" Danny asked, smiling humorously. When the man met him with a look of serious disproval, he pulled himself together. "Be honest, Master. You do not want to kill him, do you? It sounds too cruel. You are not cruel, are you?" Actually, yes, he was. But he did have to admit, killing did seem a bit extreme. It had just looked like a good solution though, a way to pull the ever constant thorn in his side that man had become.
"Fine then. If you can't kill, can you at least injure?" Once again, the boy looked disappointed, but nodded his head. "Good. In that case, I want him to have an accident, just a small one and nothing life threatening. I will play inside your rules. I would, however, like for him to end up in a coma. Make it last for, oh, two months. That will be just enough time for me to get this all squared away. Their interim CEO won't have the power to vote against me."
Danny ran a hand through his white hair and sighed. He waited and waited, perhaps anticipating the second when the man would tell him he was kidding. "Do you honestly wish it?"
"Yes, I do," Vlad answered.
"What if I say I do not want to?" he asked, running a hand across his mouth distractedly and keeping it placed under his chin for a rest.
"Can you resist something if I wish it?" the man countered, to which the other shook his head slowly.
"Please do not?" Danny's eyes seemed to double in size with their distress.
Dash the boy's feelings. He was there to serve Vlad. "I wish this man here," he tapped on the photograph, "to be involved in an accident."
Every centimeter of movement was a long moment in reluctance. The boy pulled his arms mechanically together around his chest and blinked his eyes. He looked rather pitiful when he said, "It is set in motion. Give it a little time, though. It has to look natural."
"Of course," the man smiled, positively giddy— if 'giddy' were a word he would use to describe himself.
"Is that all… Master?" Danny asked, looking quite a bit pale and troubled. Vlad didn't want to admit it, aloud or even mentally, but he found himself feeling a slight bit guilty in the aftermath of the fact for having made the boy do that. It was odd. Danny shouldn't have felt so remorseful over what had been done. He was constantly doing things to Vlad, so he wasn't such a goody-goody innocent. And besides, the man, his competitor, would be perfectly back to normal in a couple of months. What was there to worry about?
"Yes, that will be all for now," he affirmed, patting the boy's knee where it still sat on his desktop. It felt odd displaying affection like that, but not as odd as the consolation he tried to offer next. "Danny," he said, grabbing the boy's attention and bringing the green eyes to look at him, "I did this. Not you. Remember that."
"Yes, Master," the genie replied melancholically. "I think I will go back to my bottle now." And without another word said, his body disappeared into its little home.
"Have it your way," Vlad muttered, returning to his work. And for the rest of the day, he heard not a word spoken nor a television buzzing from within.
I make myself sad.
Don't worry though, self. Danny will bounce back. Young men are extremely springy.
What's this you say? Too out of character? Danny would never harm someone without provocation? Shhhhhhh. I am your metaphorical driver on this ride. Trust me.
