All in all, it really wasn't that hard to find where brunch was being
served. Roger simply asked the first person who came walking by, who
obligingly pointed it out and told him how much it cost to get in. (The
boy also informed him that they had waffles today, which only intrigued him
more.) Roger remembered seeing a mug on Jean's desk that was half-filled
with change and dollar bills -- definitely enough to get in. He used his
magic to transport the cash into his waiting hands, then headed off for his
first meal in more than half a century.
Once he'd paid and gone inside, he scanned the room, looking for his Mistress. He spotted her at one of the middle tables, sitting with a group of her friends. "Jean!" he called pleasantly, waving and heading over.
The brunette almost choked on her mouthful of waffle when she caught sight of him. By the time Roger had reached the table, however, she'd recovered enough to speak. "Hey, Roger, what are you doing here?" she managed to sputter.
"Well, I keep hearing how good these waffles are, so I decided to try them myself. Plus, since it looks like I'm going to be staying here, I thought it would be a good idea to get acquainted with things on campus." She certainly couldn't argue with that, he thought to himself. "Besides, it seems like I've been cooped up forever, and I'm feeling kind of claustrophobic. I just had to get out."
"Sit right down," said Annie, pulling out the chair next to her. "It's nice to see you again." To the others, she said, "This is Roger.he's a grad student who might be doing some work here."
"Oh yeah, you were talking about him last night," said Gary.
"You were talking about me?" he asked, rather pleased that he'd made a good first impression.
"Yeah -- it's a shame about what happened to your lab," said one of the girls at the table. She, as well as most of the others, were having the waffles.
Roger smiled brightly at Jean. "Aren't you going to introduce me to everyone?"
Her cheeks turned an interesting shade of pink. "Um, this is Gary, and Lynn, and Didi, and you already met Annie."
"It's nice to meet all of you," he replied graciously.
"Why don't you go up and get your food, and then we'll get better acquainted?" said Annie.
"That sounds great.now, where do I go to get it -"
"I'll show you where everything is," said Jean, through clenched teeth. "I need some more coffee anyway."
"Oh, that's wonderful, Jean." he began, as she practically pulled him up and out of his seat. Still half-dragging him, she stopped in front of a shelf filled with cereal boxes, away from the main part of the room.
"*What* are you doing here?" she demanded, once they were out of sight of the others. "I thought I told you to stay where you were."
"You didn't say *that*, Mistress," he replied innocently. "You told me not to come with you; you didn't say anything about not coming later."
"I can't believe you -- what if you get caught?" she retorted. "What if somebody figures out what you are? They'll lock you up, or use you to do things you might not want to. They might even dissect you to see what makes you tick."
He grasped her gently by the shoulders. "Mistress, I'm much too clever for that," he assured her. He'd kept Dr. Bellows off his tail for all those years.the man had been suspicious, yes, but he'd never been able to prove a thing. And that was before he'd had supernatural powers of his own! He didn't have a thing to worry about, he was sure of it.
"So," he beamed, hoping to change the subject of discussion to something other than his presence in the dining hall. "Let's see about those waffles." He headed off eagerly to the serving section.
Jean glared helplessly, but followed after him.
***
The conversation over brunch went as well as could be expected, considering that Jean was trying to hurry the others up and Roger was eating like it was about to be outlawed. When they finally finished their meal, Jean made excuses to the others that she needed to study and wouldn't be available until the evening. Roger said his goodbyes, then ducked around a corner and popped back to Jean's room so that he would be there when she returned. He needn't have been so eager to get back; she was still furious that he'd shown up for the meal in the first place. Roger attempted again to explain why he'd come after her; and when that didn't work, he'd turned on the sweet-talk, guaranteed to coax even the most reluctant girl around to his way of thinking. But she still wouldn't give in. The oh-so-sweet soul he'd seen in her was overlain by a thick layer of self-righteousness and stubbornness. She was inflexible, uncompromising, and unmoved by anything he'd said. As a last resort, he'd fallen back on that old standby: bribery. He was trying everything, but she wasn't going for any of it.
"What do you mean you don't want a mink coat?" he asked in disbelief, after a number of suggestions of things she might want.
She folded her arms. "Fur is murder."
"But you were wearing a leather jacket this morning! Isn't that the same sort of thing?"
"I can't wear the skin of something that was killed for no other reason than to cater to the vanity of a small group of misguided consumers," she proclaimed. "Cows are killed for meat; the leather is a by-product."
"Well then, how about a Rolls Royce?"
She looked at him like he was insane. "And own a car that increases US dependence on foreign oil? I think not."
"What do you want then?" he challenged. "Name it and it's yours. You can have anything your heart desires."
She frowned. "That's the thing. There's nothing that I particularly want that I don't already have. My family, my friends."
Roger threw his hands up in the air. "Here you are, with a genie who can grant your every wish, and you're just letting me go to waste! You're just like -" He caught himself before he could finish the sentence. 'Just like Tony' was what he was about to say, and that was something he didn't want to think about right now. Or ever. "I just don't know how to please you."
She made a face. "Well, these shoes you conjured up for me aren't very comfortable."
Roger shook his head. "Oh no, if you think I'm rubbing your feet, you're crazy. I'm not going anywhere near them -- they're deadly weapons that should be registered with the Federal Bureau of Investigations."
"I wasn't going to ask you to rub my feet," she said haughtily. "I can rub them myself."
They both sat down, her on the bed and him at the desk. Pouting.
At that moment, there was a rush of wind.which was very odd, because the door and windows were closed. A heavily-muscled man in turban and full harem regalia appeared, causing Jean to jump almost a foot in the air.
"Letter for the genie of the house," he said.
Roger tapped his chest, and the man handed him a piece of parchment covered with what looked like hieroglyphics. The messenger bowed, then vanished.
Jean went to stand next to him. "Does this sort of thing happen often?" she asked uncertainly. "People just popping in and out like that?"
"You get used to it after a while," he murmured, perusing the message he'd been sent. As he did, his expression changed to one of excitement, and he tapped the parchment in his hands. "Wow, do you know what this says?"
She leaned over him. "As a matter of fact, I do," she replied. At his look of surprise, she shrugged. "I *am* an archaeology major, remember? It says -"
He pulled it away. "It says that Hadji, the Master of all Genies, wants to meet with me to talk, because he's very pleased with my work on my new assignment."
She rolled her eyes. "This I have to see," she said blandly.
Roger didn't miss the not-so-subtle sarcasm in her voice. "All right, then, you can come too. It says here to meet him at -"
"- at the Near Eastern Archaeological Consortium's new exhibit.the reconstruction of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, rebuilt in its original location," she finished for him, her eyes widening. "Hey, I've always wanted to see that -- they say it's an almost perfect reconstruction of the ancient site."
"And I'll be very glad to take you there," he said smugly, preparing to transport them both there to meet Hadji . Finally, someone appreciated him! But this task would take stronger magic than he'd been using, so this time he folded his arms before he blinked. "Get ready, Mistress," he said confidently. "Because now you're going to see what sort of a genie I really am."
Once he'd paid and gone inside, he scanned the room, looking for his Mistress. He spotted her at one of the middle tables, sitting with a group of her friends. "Jean!" he called pleasantly, waving and heading over.
The brunette almost choked on her mouthful of waffle when she caught sight of him. By the time Roger had reached the table, however, she'd recovered enough to speak. "Hey, Roger, what are you doing here?" she managed to sputter.
"Well, I keep hearing how good these waffles are, so I decided to try them myself. Plus, since it looks like I'm going to be staying here, I thought it would be a good idea to get acquainted with things on campus." She certainly couldn't argue with that, he thought to himself. "Besides, it seems like I've been cooped up forever, and I'm feeling kind of claustrophobic. I just had to get out."
"Sit right down," said Annie, pulling out the chair next to her. "It's nice to see you again." To the others, she said, "This is Roger.he's a grad student who might be doing some work here."
"Oh yeah, you were talking about him last night," said Gary.
"You were talking about me?" he asked, rather pleased that he'd made a good first impression.
"Yeah -- it's a shame about what happened to your lab," said one of the girls at the table. She, as well as most of the others, were having the waffles.
Roger smiled brightly at Jean. "Aren't you going to introduce me to everyone?"
Her cheeks turned an interesting shade of pink. "Um, this is Gary, and Lynn, and Didi, and you already met Annie."
"It's nice to meet all of you," he replied graciously.
"Why don't you go up and get your food, and then we'll get better acquainted?" said Annie.
"That sounds great.now, where do I go to get it -"
"I'll show you where everything is," said Jean, through clenched teeth. "I need some more coffee anyway."
"Oh, that's wonderful, Jean." he began, as she practically pulled him up and out of his seat. Still half-dragging him, she stopped in front of a shelf filled with cereal boxes, away from the main part of the room.
"*What* are you doing here?" she demanded, once they were out of sight of the others. "I thought I told you to stay where you were."
"You didn't say *that*, Mistress," he replied innocently. "You told me not to come with you; you didn't say anything about not coming later."
"I can't believe you -- what if you get caught?" she retorted. "What if somebody figures out what you are? They'll lock you up, or use you to do things you might not want to. They might even dissect you to see what makes you tick."
He grasped her gently by the shoulders. "Mistress, I'm much too clever for that," he assured her. He'd kept Dr. Bellows off his tail for all those years.the man had been suspicious, yes, but he'd never been able to prove a thing. And that was before he'd had supernatural powers of his own! He didn't have a thing to worry about, he was sure of it.
"So," he beamed, hoping to change the subject of discussion to something other than his presence in the dining hall. "Let's see about those waffles." He headed off eagerly to the serving section.
Jean glared helplessly, but followed after him.
***
The conversation over brunch went as well as could be expected, considering that Jean was trying to hurry the others up and Roger was eating like it was about to be outlawed. When they finally finished their meal, Jean made excuses to the others that she needed to study and wouldn't be available until the evening. Roger said his goodbyes, then ducked around a corner and popped back to Jean's room so that he would be there when she returned. He needn't have been so eager to get back; she was still furious that he'd shown up for the meal in the first place. Roger attempted again to explain why he'd come after her; and when that didn't work, he'd turned on the sweet-talk, guaranteed to coax even the most reluctant girl around to his way of thinking. But she still wouldn't give in. The oh-so-sweet soul he'd seen in her was overlain by a thick layer of self-righteousness and stubbornness. She was inflexible, uncompromising, and unmoved by anything he'd said. As a last resort, he'd fallen back on that old standby: bribery. He was trying everything, but she wasn't going for any of it.
"What do you mean you don't want a mink coat?" he asked in disbelief, after a number of suggestions of things she might want.
She folded her arms. "Fur is murder."
"But you were wearing a leather jacket this morning! Isn't that the same sort of thing?"
"I can't wear the skin of something that was killed for no other reason than to cater to the vanity of a small group of misguided consumers," she proclaimed. "Cows are killed for meat; the leather is a by-product."
"Well then, how about a Rolls Royce?"
She looked at him like he was insane. "And own a car that increases US dependence on foreign oil? I think not."
"What do you want then?" he challenged. "Name it and it's yours. You can have anything your heart desires."
She frowned. "That's the thing. There's nothing that I particularly want that I don't already have. My family, my friends."
Roger threw his hands up in the air. "Here you are, with a genie who can grant your every wish, and you're just letting me go to waste! You're just like -" He caught himself before he could finish the sentence. 'Just like Tony' was what he was about to say, and that was something he didn't want to think about right now. Or ever. "I just don't know how to please you."
She made a face. "Well, these shoes you conjured up for me aren't very comfortable."
Roger shook his head. "Oh no, if you think I'm rubbing your feet, you're crazy. I'm not going anywhere near them -- they're deadly weapons that should be registered with the Federal Bureau of Investigations."
"I wasn't going to ask you to rub my feet," she said haughtily. "I can rub them myself."
They both sat down, her on the bed and him at the desk. Pouting.
At that moment, there was a rush of wind.which was very odd, because the door and windows were closed. A heavily-muscled man in turban and full harem regalia appeared, causing Jean to jump almost a foot in the air.
"Letter for the genie of the house," he said.
Roger tapped his chest, and the man handed him a piece of parchment covered with what looked like hieroglyphics. The messenger bowed, then vanished.
Jean went to stand next to him. "Does this sort of thing happen often?" she asked uncertainly. "People just popping in and out like that?"
"You get used to it after a while," he murmured, perusing the message he'd been sent. As he did, his expression changed to one of excitement, and he tapped the parchment in his hands. "Wow, do you know what this says?"
She leaned over him. "As a matter of fact, I do," she replied. At his look of surprise, she shrugged. "I *am* an archaeology major, remember? It says -"
He pulled it away. "It says that Hadji, the Master of all Genies, wants to meet with me to talk, because he's very pleased with my work on my new assignment."
She rolled her eyes. "This I have to see," she said blandly.
Roger didn't miss the not-so-subtle sarcasm in her voice. "All right, then, you can come too. It says here to meet him at -"
"- at the Near Eastern Archaeological Consortium's new exhibit.the reconstruction of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, rebuilt in its original location," she finished for him, her eyes widening. "Hey, I've always wanted to see that -- they say it's an almost perfect reconstruction of the ancient site."
"And I'll be very glad to take you there," he said smugly, preparing to transport them both there to meet Hadji . Finally, someone appreciated him! But this task would take stronger magic than he'd been using, so this time he folded his arms before he blinked. "Get ready, Mistress," he said confidently. "Because now you're going to see what sort of a genie I really am."
