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

Chapter Eleven: And Nowhere to Go

The crackling of the fire was sporadic. The flame was dying and the wood around it was little more than charred embers, riddled with black and a faint pervading glow. Vlad sat in the parlor where just an hour before Maddie had walked out on him. He clutched the ring harshly in his palm. Some might consider his lingering in the room masochism, but he knew what he was doing and why he was doing it. The room and its new memories would fuel his anger, his passion. He would keep those feelings strong and not let them wither like the fire before him.

When he had left his miserable genie upstairs, he had stormed through the house, yelling loud and angrily for Skulker. But the man was not to be found. It was not the sort of disappointment Vlad needed in that moment.

He stewed and raged for quite a long while until his phone rang in his pocket. It was Skulker. When he answered it, there was a tirade forming in his mind that never got its chance to be uttered. He had followed them, as Skulker was quick to say. Guessing his boss's mentality and desire, he had tailed their cab without needing the command or consent. He had seen a chance to hunt and taken it.

Vlad was waiting for the man to come back and escort him to the hotel they had chosen to stay the night in.

It seemed only minutes before Skulker returned and not much longer than that they were sitting in front of the building. He wasn't sure what his plan was from there. Until that moment, he had only been living in the past indiscretions of the evening and his perfect future where Maddie returned to her senses and him. How to get to that ideal point was a design just out of his reach.

"If you're looking for a window," Skulker voiced quietly from the driver's seat of the vehicle, "this is probably it." He pointed to the hotel's main entrance, thoroughly tearing Vlad from his reverie. It was Jack— silly, ridiculous, stupid Jack— and he was leaving.

A cab passed the big man by and he did not wave for its attention. Instead he walked down the sidewalk, and not idly either. He had a destination in mind, that was for sure. And since he walked on foot, he probably would not be long.

Vlad was out of the car and slamming its door as soon as Jack rounded the corner and left his sight.

He knew the room number. Skulker had found it out shortly after Jack and Maddie had checked in, bribing the front desk clerk who gladly accepted the hundred dollars that minimum wage would not give him and uncaringly betraying a trust that a forced graveyard shift did not earn.

The lobby was small, uninviting, and nothing like the grand palaces that he himself stayed in when traveling. He walked through the small room and into the elevator as coolly as if he had been a guest who belonged there. The ride up was short, a mere three stories, which was good because too long of a ride would have given him time to think— not about what he was going to say, but about what in the world he was doing, sneaking into a place unwanted.

But no, he wasn't unwanted. Maddie still loved him, of that he was sure. However distance had doused that flame between them; time had dulled its shine, and Jack Fenton had tried to cut the binding thread. The elevator dinged and he walked out. Vlad would not stand for such utterly depraved brainwashing.

His open palm slid quietly down the door behind which Maddie waited. Vlad felt his first real shock of hesitance. What if he was wrong? No, he was never wrong. But what if…

His first curled, and the skin drawn tightly over his clenched knuckles rapped calmly against the metal door, carved and painted to look like wood. There was a sound from inside, the brief movement of cheap box springs.

A sigh, then, "Vlad? What are you…" She trailed off. Knowing he must have been spied through the peephole, Vlad felt foolish. He should have covered it. He could not have this conversation through a door. Everything he had to say would lose no less than half of its meaning.

"Maddie," he implored, "open the door."

"I'm not sure if I should." She sounded so hesitant, and the words felt like fingers of ice digging around in his heart with no general purpose or destination, just wanton destruction.

"You know that I mean you no harm," he told her. Vlad flattened his hand against the door longingly but quickly brought it behind his back when he felt he was making a weak display of himself.

"I know that, Vlad. Of course I do." There was a dull thudding sound. When she spoke again, her voice sounded nearer, as though she was then leaning against the door. "Jack went down the block to the store. He'll be back soon."

"Then you should open the door so that we may talk," Vlad pleaded urgently.

A long moment passed, though it could have been only seconds to anyone but Vlad. A subtle click went off that sounded like a lock, then the door opened. Maddie stood in the doorway, dressed already in her pajamas for the evening but looking just as beautiful to him as she had earlier in her lovely dress.

Her face was a horrible visage of sadness and guilt. She looked on the edge of tears, and he was equally ready dry them if they started. It wasn't her fault, nothing was her fault, and he would not blame her. "I'm sorry," Maddie said, and that felt like a step in the right direction for Vlad. "There aren't words for how sorry I really am."

"Then don't strain yourself trying, my dear," Vlad said, pleased. "I don't blame you. I forgive you even. Just come home and we'll sort this all out." He took a step closer, and her hand wrapped tighter around the still open door.

"It's been ten years." He nodded in agreement. Yes, ten years. "I've tried to make myself feel…" She paused and instantly Vlad did not like the direction she was going. "To feel the way that I wanted to. But a part of me— this small, almost insignificant part— that I couldn't deny was always thinking of Jack, happy, silly, sometimes stupid Jack."

Vlad's hands recoiled behind his back, the fingers of one hand squeezing the wrist of the other mercilessly to keep in his control. "That's ridiculous," he said, slowly and evenly, trying to control his temper. "Jack, of all people. He's an idiot and a fool. He could never provide for you like I can."

"I know, Vlad. He can't compare with your businesses and your wealth, but that doesn't matter, not really. I can't stop thinking about him, the way you can't stop thinking about your company. And with our focuses so divided, how can we truly belong together?" She let go of the door and stepped into the hall, putting a gentle hand on his tense shoulder. "Don't you see?"

"No," he stated obstinately. "I don't 'see', Maddie. I don't. You tell me you can't stop thinking of Jack. We'll send him packing. You say I'm obsessed with my work. That's over now. Things are secure. I have time for you now, more than enough."

"Vlad," she started, only to be interrupted.

"No," he said again, grabbing her wrist and stopping its sympathetic caress. "Nothing is more important than you. Don't you understand? I'll take off of work to make time for you. I'll sell my companies if it means you'll come back. I'll…"

She shook her head sadly, almost crying. Vlad knew then he was wrong. He didn't want to wipe those tears away. They were cruel and vicious, piteous things. He hated them. "I just can't," she said.

"I won't accept this," he announced, throwing her hand down. "If you think I'll give you up, you are sorely mistaken. I will not rest until—"

"Vlad, I'm pregnant," she stated loudly, might have yelled if not for fear of making a scene and drawing other guests from their rooms.

"I…" Vlad was at a loss for words. He took a step back, feeling in a daze.

"Jack," Maddie told him quietly, "doesn't even know yet." She wrapped her arms around her chest in a defensive stance and rubbed at her upper arms self-consciously. "I feel awful, Vlad, horrible. It's bad enough that I couldn't fight these feelings around Jack for those three months, but…" She began crying, indulging in a moment of self-pity that her usually strong persona didn't allow for. "But then there's this guilt as well. Because I cheated on you too."

Vlad closed his eyes and took deep breaths, thinking of something, anything, to say. In what he felt was a last bid for things to go back to normal, he uttered, "We can… raise the child together."

He offered so much, but Maddie only shook her head morosely. She raised a hand to touch or hug him but let it fall back down, knowing he didn't really need— and probably didn't want— it right then. She stepped back into her hotel room and rested her palm against the door. "Goodbye, Vlad," she said, running her hand up and down the fake wood. "Promise me you won't linger on this. You should forget about me and go be happy. Promise me?"

Vlad looked up from a floor he had found so interesting, a carpet that might have held all the answers. He stared her in the eyes and said nothing. He did not nod his head; he did not shake his head.

He turned as mechanically as a soldier and left, hoping (in vain) to meet Jack Fenton on his way out.

—

Danny yelled as his shoulder hit hard against the cork in his bottle. Despite the pain, he flew up again, trying to dislodge it. The accursed thing didn't budge an inch. He sank forlornly downward until he rested on his couch and pillows.

He touched at his face where Vlad had hit him. It stung, but every time he touched it again, it hurt a little less. How long had he been there, sealed once more in his horrible bottle? Surely it had only been a few minutes. For all he knew, though, it had been hours. Time was a funny, useless, incalculable thing to a genie that had been locked away for so many unending years. What if he had been there for years? What if Vlad had left him years ago?

No, Vlad wouldn't do that. Vlad needed him. He did.

More time passed. Danny began bargaining, yelling out promises in hopes that Vlad would hear them. He would stop being such a pest by tormenting the man with his magic. He would apologize again and again for what he had done. He would… If he had to he would actually fulfill Vlad's wish for harm against his rival, instead of putting it off day after day.

Time sped by around him, leaving Danny feeling utterly forsaken in the quiet gloom. He was lying on his stomach, unblinking eyes drawn but unfocussed to the other side of his bottle, when he heard a loud bang and then footsteps.

He sat bolt upright and strained his ears to hear more. The steps came closer and he stood, smoothing out his vest and pants to make himself appear more presentable.

The world turned around him as Vlad picked up the bottle and wrenched out the stopper, throwing it across the room.

"Get out," he commanded in a low voice, setting the bottle back down on his bedside table.

Danny obeyed without a moment's hesitation, glad to be free of his prison. When he had materialized and turned around, he saw Vlad at the other end of the room. The man was in his shirt and pants only, no jacket, no tie, no shoes. Even a couple of his shirt buttons were undone.

There was sharp but hollow thud as Vlad sat glass bottles onto the wooden coffee table. Then he pushed the chairs around with a loud scrape across the floor until they were facing each other. He picked up one of the bottles, and Danny didn't need to be told that it was a strong drink. He could smell it on the other already. "This stuff is horrible. 120 proof," Vlad said, gesturing with the bottle before throwing it to him. "Means that it's 60% alcohol. And I wish," he spat the word, "for you to drink it all with me."

Danny didn't resist, couldn't have if he wanted to since Vlad wished it. He became surprised soon enough though when the awful drink began to make him feel woozy. Apparently it was much stronger than what he had been drinking for years. He made an effort to slow how quickly he drank that liquid blaze down.

Every time Danny tried to say something, Vlad would tell him to be quiet, so they sat in silence for a good long while, what must have been a half an hour at least. They reclined in their respective chairs, sipping at their glasses and cringing slightly at the burn.

Eventually, when he could take it no longer, Danny blurted out, "I want to apologize, Master, but I cannot." Vlad glanced at him indifferently and scoffed. "I think apologies mean that a person is sorry for their actions. However, I know that I would do it again, for my own selfish reasons."

"No, no," Vlad slurred sarcastically. "Really, your words are… too kind." He raised his glass but did not drink, only stared at it.

"I only wanted you to know that even though I see what I did as necessary, I am not without my regret. I wanted her to be with my fa— with Jack, but for your happiness, I also wanted her to stay." Finishing what he had to say, Danny fell silent again.

After a few minutes and several more drinks, Vlad quietly said, "Tell me about your parents."

"You…" Danny sat up straight in his seat. "You want to know about my parents?"

"No, not really," Vlad answered callously, as if the idea was offending. "But you want to talk about them, and this is probably the only time I'll ever actually listen, when I'm drunk. Granted, I'm probably very likely to forget everything you say by morning."

Danny nodded and sat his drink down on the table. He did want to talk about them. After meeting Jack and Maddie, they had been constantly in his mind. "My father was a merchant."

"No," Vlad objected, cutting him off, "you've spoken of him already." He took a drink. "Tell me instead about your mother."

"Oh," the boy spoke, "right. My mother, she was not from around where we lived. She was the daughter of a…" Danny paused, looking ashamed. "It was a king or a lord or…""You can't remember?" the other asked with a derisive snort.

Danny bowed his head disgracefully. "She told me once, but I was not listening. I thought it was boring, and… there were so many more important things to do… At the time they seemed important anyway. Now I only wish I could go back and listen to her stories. Because I pushed them off so many times I think that she stopped trying."

The boy looked so pitiful that Vlad felt compelled to assist him. "Surely she was from the west, given her— what I'm assuming was— red hair?"

"Yes," Danny agreed, quickly picking his head back up. "She came out of the west in a big caravan of people, servants really. It was her dream to explore our lands, and her father only agreed if she went in great numbers." He stopped again, trying to recall facts he had only been told once, many years ago. "She… met… No," he corrected himself, "my father saw her in the streets. Her company stood out with their looks and their clothes, but she was the one that caught his attention with her auburn hair and violet eyes."

Vlad groaned and rolled his eyes. He then refilled his glass, suddenly feeling too sober to hear the love story of past Jack and Maddie.

"I will not bore you with the details—"

"Because you don't know the details," Vlad scoffed.

"But they fell in love." Danny released a wistful sigh. "She sent back every servant that came with her and had them tell her father that she was staying." He shrugged and sat back in his chair, having leaned so far forward that he might have fallen over if not for his magic. "After that, my sister was born. She had my mother's red hair and my grandmother's blue eyes, like I do… like I did. Before they…" He trailed off, gesturing passively at his green eyes that seemed to almost glow in the dim light of the room.

"Then you were born and lived a happy little life making other people miserable with your mischief until you eventually became a genie, yes?" Vlad's summation was not intended to make the other flinch and quiet down, but it did. Clearly the boy was saddened enough with his reminiscing. A reminder of his imprisonment— that his real family was long since dead and any matchmaking he had played that night was pointless— was perhaps the last thing he needed. "I'm sorry I sent you back to your bottle and put the lid on," he said slowly, surprised that he at least halfway meant what he was saying, "especially after I promised I wouldn't."

Danny nodded his thanks and pulled his legs up into the chair with him, his knees up around his chin and his arms wrapped defensively around them. "I did not care at first. I knew you would be back. But after a while, my mind started playing tricks on me. In my bottle with the opening sealed?" He drew in a shaky breath. "I began to convince myself that it had all been a dream, that you had never actually found my bottle. I wanted to scream, Master." His voice sounded desperate, and when he looked at Vlad, his eyes were wide with fear. "When I heard you coming back, I was almost ready to kiss you again."

Vlad looked at him for a moment, then stared at the unlit fireplace for a long while. "Get back in your bottle," he spoke evenly, still looking at the empty hearth and not his genie. "I… won't seal it."

Danny looked at the half full bottle on the table. "But I have to finish…"

The man stood and put his hand on his bony shoulder. "Drink it tomorrow if you have to. I'm going to bed now, and I don't want you up getting drunk while I'm trying to sleep."

Vlad walked away and fell into his bed, still clothed. Danny followed him and slunk away into his bottle for the night, happy beyond belief for that little hole of light above his head that decorated the ceiling of his bottle like the moon did the night sky.

Well, Maddie's gone. I tried to make it as nice as possible and not make her seem like a bad guy. Because I do love her. But we all know getting her out of the way was very necessary for the Vlad/Danny. Yup.