Mistress and genie walked across the campus at a leisurely pace, while the brunette anxiously went over everything Roger would need to know for his 'cover story'.

Roger chuckled. He was glad for the helpful hints on life in the twenty- first century, of course, but he didn't think she had to worry so much. All he really needed were the basics -- the most important of which was their location. He was pleasantly surprised when she told him where they were.it was one of those small, east coast liberal arts colleges, very hard to get into unless you were extremely bright. Which meant, by extension, that Jean was extremely bright. That was good. He'd already gotten that impression of her anyway, just from their initial meeting. He was also starting to feel more like his old self, which was also good. It meant that being changed from a human being into something else hadn't changed his fundamental nature. That 'self' was still the same, even though it was wrapped in a slightly different package.

That was what he'd worried about most, when he'd been brought before Hadji and informed of his fate, so long ago. What would this change do to him? Would it alter his personality, make him different enough to be almost another person? Or was he going to end up as a mindless servant, indentured to whoever happened to open his bottle?

In the end, it was none of these. He felt exactly the same, other than a little more ethereal (he couldn't come up with anything better to describe it), especially when coming out of his bottle -- the sensation was rather pleasant, actually. And after knowing Jeannie for so long, he couldn't help but laugh at his earlier fears. He should have known better. But then, he should have known better about a lot of other things too. Common sense was never one of his strong points.

Jean was still holding the card she'd taken out before, and now that they were approaching a building with a well-lit entranceway, he was able to see that it had her picture on it. There was a metal box on the door with a slot that looked about the same size as the ID card. She slid it through; then there was a click from inside the box.

"Come on in," she said, pulling the now unlocked door open.

Roger didn't move.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

He gestured at the door. "This is a women's dormitory."

"Yes.?"

Roger frowned. His Mistress looked confused, as if she didn't understand why he might be hesitant to enter. Were things really so different in 2037? He'd gotten into enough trouble while he was in college to never want to try sneaking up to a girl's room again! But he was shocked at how blasé she was about the whole idea. He didn't know what to say. "But.but what would people say if they saw a man going up to your room at this time of night?" he finally protested.

She laughed, a bright, bubbly sound. "They won't say anything. Really, it's not a big deal. At least, not anymore it's not. Come on in."

Roger shook his head as he followed her into the building. "I think I was born about a hundred years too early," he muttered to himself.

Once inside, they passed a few people talking quietly in the halls.and, true to his Mistress's words, nobody seemed concerned about his presence. No-one questioned either of them as they went up to the second floor, down the hallway, and into a side corridor. Roger was glancing around nervously, as if he expected the house mother or resident assistant to storm out of her suite and berate him for immoral behavior. Jean couldn't help but notice his apprehension, which made her giggle again. She was still amused when they stopped in front of a door decorated with photos and pictures and fuzzy dice hanging from the top.

Unlike the key card that let them into the building, this time she pulled out an old-fashioned key to unlock the deadbolt. "Well, here we are," she said, opening the door.

Roger peered over her shoulder dubiously. The room was a mess. He'd seen hurricanes leave less damage than what was in there.

"What's wrong?" she asked suspiciously.

"Wrong? Oh nothing.nothing Mistress, nothing," he said, trying to keep his tone even. He'd never been much of a neat freak, but this was too much. "It's just.well, is there space for my bottle in there?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, of course there is," she replied. She stepped over a few books on the floor and cleared off a small area on the bookshelf. "There, how's that?"

He still looked unconvinced.

She put her hands on her hips and pouted prettily (or so he believed). "You pick a spot then," she said offhandedly.

"No, Mistress, it's fine. Really." He placed the bottle in the space she'd provided, not wanting to make her feel bad just because her living quarters looked like a bomb had gone off in them. "Would you mind if I.tidied things up a bit?"

"Sure, go ahead," she said with a shrug.

Hoping that he hadn't offended her too much, he concentrated on what he wanted done, then blinked. Instantly, everything started to move towards their proper places. Soon books were on shelves, clothes were in closets, socks (and other more interesting articles that he wanted to get a better look at later) were in drawers.

Jean's eyes widened. "Wow, thank you Roger, that was really nice," she beamed. "This'll make it a lot easier for me to study, without having to search for everything." She picked up one of the notebooks from her desk and sat down on the bed, as if preparing to get back to work.

The genie's eyebrows went up. "You mean you're going to study *now*?" he asked plaintively.

"Sure, it's only ten o'clock. And it's Saturday, so I don't have to be up early tomorrow morning."

Roger couldn't believe his ears. "It's Saturday night?" he repeated. "What are you doing studying on a Saturday night? Why aren't you out having fun?"

"Because I have to study," she said, as if that was that.

Roger was still skeptical. What kind of a co-ed was this? He tried to reason with her. "Look, I know that you need to keep on top of your schoolwork, but that doesn't mean you can't take time out to enjoy yourself," he said. "Besides, I've been stuck in that bottle for ages. I'd like to get some fresh air, have fun, go out and see the sights."

She stared at him dourly. "This is a small town. There are no sights."

"Wouldn't you like to go out for a late dinner? And maybe some dancing?" he cajoled, taking her hand and easing her gently to a standing position. He blinked, turning her jeans and t-shirt into an evening gown, complete with diamond accents and French perfume. "There, you look wonderful. C'mon, let's get going, I know the nicest little place near the Louvre." he said, taking her by the arm and preparing to blink them to the fanciest restaurant in Paris.

She looked down at herself in astonishment, then back at him. "No, I can't."

"Why not?"

She glared at him. "I'm tired."

"Oh, don't worry, Mistress, I can take care of that." he began, but she interrupted him. She had a strange expression on her face, one that made him pause.

"No, I mean.this has been a really weird day for me, you know?" she said, dropping back down onto the bed and gazing skyward. "Everything was going along just fine, everything was completely normal, and then some guy pops out of what looks like an old Jim Beam bottle in a big puff of smoke and says he's my genie, and I'm expected to just be OK with all that like it's something that happens every day." She shook her head wearily. "I really think I need to get some sleep."

Roger nodded in understanding. Going out on the town could wait until she'd gotten more comfortable with the situation. "Well, when you put it that way." He patted her on the arm. "Whenever you're ready. Until then, I'll be glad to do anything you want. Your wish is my command, as they say," he finished with a chuckle.

"Thank you," she sighed in relief. "I really am tired, you know. Could you, um." She gestured down at her clothing.

He nodded again and blinked, but instead of what she'd been wearing earlier, he gave her a set of pink silk pajamas. She was back on the bed, sitting up, with the covers pulled up to her waist.

"Thank you," she said again. "And will you be OK overnight, in there? In the bottle?"

"Yes, I'll be fine. Thank you for asking."

She smiled, looking suddenly very sweet and shy and sleepy. "And thanks for cleaning this place up. I get so involved with my work that sometimes I let things slip," she yawned. She reached over, flicking off the light. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mistress. If you need anything, just say something. But you have to do it out loud. It doesn't work if it's not spoken."

"Mmm.all right." She sounded half asleep already. In a few more minutes she'd be out like a light.

Roger smiled, with an expression of extreme self-satisfaction. He rubbed his hands together, then smoked himself back into his bottle. His first day as a genie and he was doing great. And why wouldn't he? Here he was, with a lovely and intelligent young woman; and him looking like he had even before the moon landings. He had incredible magical powers and the ability to make a person's dreams come true. He would age at a nearly imperceptible rate and would live (barring accidents) for a few thousand years at least. What more could a man ask for? He felt like he was on top of the world.

Little did the man once called Roger Healey know, that at that very moment, far away, a tiny bell had rung. A bell on a magical timer, almost like an alarm clock. In itself it was innocent, innocuous, but what it signaled was not.

Its owner stalked over to investigate, making sure that the 'alarm' had actually gone off. She tapped the device, then picked it up.crushing it, then flinging its remains across the room.

She'd been waiting for this for a very long time.

And the revenge she'd planned would be very, very sweet.