THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR AWESOME SUPPORT! :D
Seriously I was really running low in the inspiration department but your kind reviews helped me smash the writer's block! Horrible puns aside I wanna say a few things to a couple particularly interesting reviews. First off: metal-orgy I'm fairly certain its not, purely because steel is used in cars and Stroud apparently gave Barty a driver's license (albeit expired) in the canon story. And if it is – well im glad I made that typo cuz I was not thinking of it :D
Everyone who praised my awesome, the kiss, and the story in general: d'aaaaw you guys are awesome! So glad to hear the majority still think this is in character – I'm trying my best but anything noncanon – like romances – are always hard to not make OOC so im glad you guys approve.
Peck Forever: I particularly wanna thank you for being my first reviewer EVER and most frequent. I wanted to recognize that without your support I probably would've died a while ago.
YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! Now I have to disappoint you all by saying sadly this isn't a Brandon POV chappie BUT it has Brandon IN IT so yay! Also because I'm heading for Ohio I have plane time to write more! Whoo!
Nathaniel
Nathaniel didn't quite know what to do with himself, his current composure reminiscent of a statue, frozen and unaware of the passage of time. Of course, being human, there were a few things that gave away the boy was still alive, like his shallow breaths for one, but these were few and certainly not very frequent. It was a wonder he hadn't suffocated yet. It was a distinct possibility that Nathaniel was hyperventilating, but if this was so the boy certainly didn't know it, he hardly had enough oxygen in his brain for anything beyond the most primitive thoughts and emotions at the moment.
The ex-magician was so caught up in his utter shock and inner turmoil that the room seemed to be spinning. In fact, if he hadn't heard a quiet chuckle, and latched on to the sound as a tether to the real world, he was sure he would have fainted. However, a former prestigious government agent could not be seen fainting at such a simple thing as a kiss, so Nat did what he was best at. He hid his emotions behind orders and a generally sour attitude.
The raven haired boy whipped around and shot the blonde a look that could curdle milk and snapped, "Don't you dare say a bloody thing."
Brandon, who had unsuccessfully tried to turn his chuckle into a cough took one look at Nat and burst out laughing. This of course set Nathaniel into a blind fury. Screeching at Brandon at first what was so damn funny and escalating into shrieks for him to shut the hell up. This quickly turned to violence as Nat hurled pillows, his sketchbook and anything else lying near the him that could be used as a projectile at Brandon. The prestigious ex-government magician went into a blind hissy fit to shut his friend up; his cheeks positively flaming, his inability to cope quickly pushing him over the edge.
Nathaniel's reaction did nothing to help the blonde boy who was practically blue in the face, cackling so hard he could not physically stand properly.
"This isn't funny!" Nat protested angrily and, with nothing left to throw, had begun frantically gesturing in every direction as he attempted to explain away on how many levels this was completely and utterly wrong while Brandon fought to keep a straight face. The whole thing seemed to be nothing more than an overemotional interpretive dance. By the end of it Nat was so worked up and frustrated he was practically in tears and Brandon, seeing the break in projectiles and gesturing as his chance to calm his friend down, quickly started a monologue on why this was a good thing.
"You're just a little riled up is all, I'm sure you give it time and you'll be ok, happy even, that this happened."
"And how exactly is that?" Nat shrieked angrily swiping at his cheeks and trying to control himself through deep breathing.
Seeing that the boy was on the brink of another emotional overload, Brandon quickly crossed the room and grabbed Nat by the elbows before he could find anything else to start throwing or, more likely, begin slamming his head against the walls.
Once the raven haired boy was successfully subdued and cussing up a storm Brandon gave him a crooked smile and gave him a gentle shake. "Caaaaalm down. Everything's good, alright?" He then enveloped Nathaniel in what any normal person would deem to be a very comforting hug. But the ex-magician had never been normal.
To Nat, who had never experienced any kind of human interaction beyond the cold world of politics, he wasn't entirely sure what to do. Not even Mrs. Underwood had ever dared hug the boy for fear of bringing down the wrath of her husband.
Because of this Nat experienced a very gut wrenching experience, his body unsure to react positively or to defend itself. His breath caught in his throat, tears pricking at his eyes, threatening to spill, until finally, something broke.
He reacted in the way that had kept him alive for a miraculous nineteen years. Defensively.
"G-get off!" Nathaniel screamed and, with surprising force, kneed Brandon in the stomach.
The blonde doubled over, grunting, allowing Nat to dash out the front door. Before Brandon had a chance to follow him out, the ex-magician had already tripped over the worst possible person in this scenario.
Bartimaeus.
Unable to face the storm, the dijin had been innocently sitting atop the staircase, far too immersed in his own troubles to hear the pandemonium going on inside the little apartment. So it goes to say that the false boy was a little more than surprised when Nathaniel crashed into him with enough force to send them down the flight of stairs.
Lucky for Nathaniel dijins have incredible reflexes; before Bartimaeus was entirely sure what was happening he had already latched onto the railing and caught Nathaniel around the torso, preventing the boy from breaking his neck.
Not so luckily, Nathaniel was still currently having a panic attack. He caught the dijin's eye for a fraction of a second, what seemed like an eternity to both, and immediately started screaming bloody murder, trying to pull away from the Egyptian.
Normally a flailing human boy would prove no problem for a physically superior dijin to hold onto and haul back up a few stairs but as luck would have it their precarious position made it almost impossible. Nathaniel was currently halfway sprawled across Bartimaeus' lap and half suspended over a flight of stairs. Before the dijin could get a better grip to alleviate the awkward position or transform into something that could prevent the screaming boy from cracking his skull open, Brandon appeared at the top of the stairs, gave a panicked yell and immediately grabbed onto the false boy in an attempt to drag them both up the stairs to safety.
Less than helpful, the added weight quickly sent all three of them tumbling down the stairs with poor Bartimaeus grudgingly breaking the fall by allowing the two boys to use him as a cushion.
Naturally, the end of the staircase just so happened to have no eaves or sheltering and all three boys landed in a tangled mass in the rain. They were all soaked and wind whipped in about five seconds.
This did not perturb Nathaniel in the least. The cold water snapped him back to his senses and in less than a second he was trying to shove Brandon off him and complaining, "That's just perfect! What the bloody hell are you still doing here?"
This was clearly directed at the poor false boy, Nathaniel was sitting on and quiet possibly crushing.
The dijin had a rather foul frown on his amber face and spat, "You're welcome." He then gave the boy a particularly painful shove and managed to sit up slightly, alleviating his bent neck, unnatural and incredibly uncomfortable position. For a moment Nathaniel was sorely disappointed the dijin wasn't human – if he was he surely would have died.
"For what? Look what you did you horrible spi-" Remembering Brandon, Nat forcefully spat, "servant!" to cover what would have otherwise been a very interesting miscommunication.
Bartimaeus' face seemed to suggest he liked the word 'servant' almost as little as the word 'demon'. He sarcasm came out full force. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't hear you on account of that amazing rescue just then. My apologizes o my master, next time I'll be sure to let you crack open your pompous little skull."
"GUYS! Not the time." Brandon, always the voice of reason, growled, sitting up and trying to extract himself from the jumble and simultaneously dodge rain droplets, "You can argue when we're inside and not at risk of pneumonia!"
"I'm sorry. Did you just suggest I go and barricade myself in my own house with this thing?" Nat growled, pulling himself painfully to his feet.
"Oh really can I?" Bartimaeus said with mock awe, "That would really make my day you know. I'd love to be stuck in the same room for who knows how long with this perfect little prat."
"Oh my god, just get in the damn house." Brandon groaned and was already pulling the fake boy to his feet, attempting to herd the squabbling pair inside. Nathaniel took the lead, muttering darkly as he descended the stairs.
The second they entered the apartment the current raging argument between former master and servant was put to an abrupt halt as Nathaniel, who had wandered into the kitchen, suddenly slammed his head against the counter, face first, with an indistinguishable noise.
While neither were incredibly thrilled at the idea of being stuck together Nat was so drained from his fit – not that he would ever dare call it that – he no longer cared. At least not for the moment. For now, he needed some down time, maybe even – he shuddered to think of it, coffee. Today had been a very long day.
He continued to ignore his arguing counterpart until, insulted that he was being ignored, Bartimaeus plopped down on the couch with a huff, folding his arms firmly across his chest in a huff.
Brandon, unsure what to do between the pouting dijin and the boy collapsed on the counter finally decided, after one long awkward moment, to try and comfort Nat. "Uh, Brit?" He asked hesitantly. Unsure if he should try shaking the boy or even check his pulse. Lord knows the boy wasn't moving.
The boy in question waved his hand dismissively, proving that he had not died upon the counter as of yet, and muttered something that sounded like "Sit."
Immediately, blonde plopped himself down on the ancient couch and awaited further instruction – none one too keen on sending Nathaniel on another rampage.
He waited anxiously and when it was abundantly clear that the pale teen was planning on staying in his dreadfully uncomfortable position for some time to come, Brandon again tried to console his friend.
Nathaniel, having none of that, held up a hand, pointer finger extended, head still facedown on the counter indicating that he needed another minute or so as he was. Brandon fell silent and waited for one long excruciating minute, uncomfortably squashed against the sulking Bartimaeus on the tiny couch, until Nathaniel finally alleviated the silence by pulling his head off the counter with a groan. Leaning heavily on the counter with one arm, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand, he muttered darkly, "I need some coffee."
At this Bartimaeus, who was busy trying to blend into the scenery as best as one can when trapped in the form of a young Egyptian boy, decided to question his former master with something akin to disbelief, his false eyebrows arching comically, "You drink coffee? You, who always complained that the council never had proper tea at the refreshment table and god forbid the British don't have tea at any event. Didn't you make your poor assistant cry when she brought you a cup of coffee? I think you did, even made the poor thing listen to one of your god awful monologues. Why on earth are you drinking coffee?"
"Don't even get me started. First off that girl had every bit of it coming to her but that's not important right now." Nathaniel cast an irritated glare at the false boy and tiredly jabbed at the coffee machine. He explained, "Normally I wouldn't touch the stuff but American tea is beyond horrible and I think at the moment I need something much stronger if I'm to keep my sanity." He busied himself with getting down some mugs leaving Brandon to defend his country.
"Hey there! Of course American tea is bad – it's the watered down dregs you Brits send us. We're not good enough for proper tea apparently." At this Bartimaeus muttered something along the lines of "Maybe if you hadn't dumped all the good tea into the ocean…" but the blonde ignored him and concluded. "Besides, coffee is the superior drink anyway."
"Brandon." Nathaniel was busy arranging the cups in a perfect little triangle. He glanced up dangerously from beneath his lashes, "I think its safe to say that if you wish to stay in this apartment and not be thrown to that hurricane, you will shut your gob and I will pretend you did not just insult me with your offensive coffee loyalties. If I had access to decent tea I would never subject myself to this horrid drink. Don't forget that."
Brandon blinked stupidly and watched his slightly deranged friend go back to arranging the cups. As soon as Nat turned around to retrieve the coffee pot, Brandon leaned conspiratorially toward Bartimaeus and hesitantly asked, "He… that wasn't serious, right? I mean, he was joking, right?"
"Oh no." The dijin flashed an amused smile, and rested his chin casually in his hands, "He's dead serious. Be glad he's still a little shell shocked; if I have to hear his tea monologue one more time I swear I'll kill myself. Trust me, you never wanna hear that."
"Well actually, yes I do. He has a whole monologue?"
"Oh you bet. It's reminiscent of a war speech too, he's gotten more than a few people riled up with it." The false boy shrugged, "If you really wanna hear it it's your funeral. Do try to ask him when I'm not around. Oh and make sure he's not near sharp objects, like, say, in a kitchen. He tends to get rather emotional with this – can't imagine why."
Before Brandon could object Nathaniel placed a jug of milk on the counter with a resounding 'thud'. He already had his coffee and was busy drowning it with sugar and milk, he looked up irritably and said, "If you want any hurry up and take it," with a gesture towards two steaming mugs of the stuff.
Brandon got up and conversationally asked Bartimaeus if he wanted one and what he'd like in it, then brought the completed drink over to the dijin with a akin to a peace offering.
They were about halfway through their coffee when the blonde decided to tread dangerous waters, "Soooo… Are we just gunna go ahead and pretend that that movie-esque kiss just never happened?"
Nat actually did a spit take, spraying the amber liquid everywhere, and promptly began choking violently, already having locked the incident into the darkest corners of his mind.
Bartimaeus, however, continued calmly drinking his coffee and responded, "That's the plan."
Brandon raised and eyebrow, momentarily ignoring the pale teen and said sarcastically. "Oh that's cool. I just get to sit here and watch you two drown in sexual tension for the next few days?"
"Yup."
"THERE IS NO SEXUAL TENSION!" Nathaniel, still choking ever so slightly, felt the need to interject into the conversation to clear up the madness. Bartimaeus was quick to agree with the boy.
"Obviously not Nat." He said soothingly, "I mean really, who'd be attracted to you? I must've momentarily come down with a case of brain worms. My bad."
"Your bad!" The ex-magician floundered for words, the coffee long since forgotten. "You don't just… just… do THAT and then wipe it away with a my bad you horrible-"
"Soooo… this is good coffee right? Yeah. Of course it is. Let's talk about coffee, really, I'm sorry I asked." Brandon awkwardly interjected, casting his hazel eyes about nervously.
"WHY DID YOU BRING IT UP, THEN!"
"Why? Oh no reason." He quickly drained the mug, set it on the table and stood, "Now excuse me as I go spend an extended amount of time in your bathroom to nurse my stomach wound, Nathaniel," a quick pouty glare there, "where I can't hear your screams. Try not to kill each other."
"Wait. What you -" Nat stared in disbelief for a moment before he realized what Brandon was trying to pull. "Get back here right now you –" but the boy had already disappeared into the other room, leaving him with a devilishly smiling dijin.
"Annnnnnd he's gone." The creature chuckled.
"Fantastic." Nat growled and immediately began to rise out his cup so he wouldn't have to look his ex-servant in the face.
"I guess. Well I suppose we're supposed to talk now." He couldn't see him as he risnsed the dish in scalding water, but Nat could imagine the false boy staring into his mug, tracing the rim lightly, contemplating whether or no to push the matter.
Nathaniel for one, did not want the matter pushed, so he flashed the spirit a smile and apologized, "Oh I'm sorry, I have to clean the floors right now – some incompetent moron left batter all over them."
Bartimaeus was on his feet in a second, "Hey! I happen to be an excellent – " He paused in disbelief as his former master actually sat down in an attempt to hide behind the counter. Annoyed, the false boy rounded the counter and scolded, "Oh yes, very mature Mr. Big Time Magician, let's hide on the floor and pretend there isn't a giant elephant parading about the room."
The boy avoided meeting the dijins eye and instead cast his own blue orbs about the room saying, "I see no elephant. There is no elephant. Why would an elephant be in my apartment?"
"Nat, be serious." The Egyptian boy growled and came to sit cross legged before the boy, "I think we need to talk. I'm not exactly keen on it myself but if we're stuck here anyway…"
Nathaniel cast his eyes about in a worried fashion for a second or two and, upon seeing no way out, let out a weary sigh and waved for the dijin to continue. "Fine."
Yay! Now they can talk about their feelings! Now review – REVIEW YOU FOOLS! And I might be merciful in updating! Also -plane landed in Buffalo, seeing the Falls :D