Look, look! We made it! One more chapter right before the end of the year! (Don't come for me if it's already 2022 over there; I really wanted to have posted this yesterday, but alas.) And it's a New Year's chapter. Because this is still fanficton and I couldn't resist.
Anyway. I HAVE NEWS! Anjumstar is not only an amazing beta who pulled my ears quite a bit this chapter, she also CREATED THIS MASTERPIECE on tumblr ((slash)post(slash)671595145146384384(slash)an-illustration-i-made-from-chapter-17-of-my-best?fbclid=IwAR2Y98GSRjhfE1lYE4NlH8kK2eMWsUaAlml0Dyhig-0ECgORgloG5t2bPnw) based on chapter 17 as a Christmas gift and I AM NOT WELL. T^T

Chapter Twenty-Four

helmets down, armours off

Bartimaeus

"Let me see if I got this right," Kitty drawled, narrowing her eyes at Piper. "You want us to scrap our plans for tonight and go to a concert. At a coffee shop. In the heart of London. Because a bloke you met twice asked you out."

Face rivalling that of the tomato I had cubed to go with the eggs, Piper could only sputter and squeak in her attempt to explain herself better. It was a resounding failure. At some point, Kitty gave me a look that said, "Are you listening to this load of rubbish?" I shook my head in disbelief, pushing more scrambled eggs onto both of their plates while they weren't looking.

I was just thinking how Nathaniel would take this turn of events when he showed up at the door, sleep still clinging to him even though he'd changed into workout attire—his face slightly puffy, his hair slightly ruffled, rubbing his eyes free of cobwebs. Nathaniel smiled at me then, shy but unguarded, and I found myself reciprocating before I realised what I was doing.

Nathaniel padded softly around the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea in a practiced manner. I supposed it was automatic at this point—drilled into his routine. He came up beside me, inspecting the eggs I was whisking for him. (1) But I knew he was listening to Piper and Kitty's discussion, so I raised my eyebrows at him and tilted my head in their general direction. Nathaniel sighed, probably weighing what I'd said yesterday about his lack of reaction to everything.

(1) I know, I know. When did I sink into this domestic hellscape? Well, there's nothing embarrassing about legendary cooking skills. Not to mention that they come in handy when you have to poison someone or throw a knife. Sometimes I come close to understanding Faquarl's obsession with the kitchen.

One might say I should take my own advice, but one should stick their nose elsewhere. Preferably nowhere near my culinary works of art.

"Won't we get recognised?" he finally asked, and then looked at me as if to say, There. Are you happy now?

I gently pushed his shoulder with mine and added the eggs to the pan. Nathaniel pushed back, letting the touch linger a little. And just like that, I was smiling again.

"I wasn't yesterday. Most people don't actually know what we look like."

"Rebecca, we're talking about John Mandrake. Even if there are no decent photographs of him because of your whole magician thing with photographs getting published, there have been a number of drawings printed to go along with the articles. And some of them very artistic, might I add. You've saved those, right, Bartimaeus?"

I nodded. "I filed them in the library. Wouldn't want to give Nat here a heart attack by putting them up. We all saw how he reacted to that poem."

Nathaniel blushed. "What—"

Kitty scooped some beans onto her toast and continued like Nathaniel wasn't combusting all over the eggs, "Not to mention that I doubt a single soul wouldn't recognise his name."

"I don't know," I chimed, tossing the spinach in the bowl to evenly coat it with the seasoning, "I think that'd easily be solved by calling him Johnny-boy."

The disbelief in Nathaniel's face nearly made me grin again. "Which side are you on?"

"I'm on the side of fun, naturally."

"See?" Piper said. "Even Bartimaeus thinks it's a good idea!"

"Woah, this is a very disturbing moment," Kitty said, dramatically massaging her temples. "Did I just jump into an alternate universe, or did Rebecca and Bartimaeus actually agree on something?"

Nathaniel smiled, showing off his pearly whites. There was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "We could also call him Bart."

I gasped. The audacity. "Absolutely not. Once was enough—"

"And Becca," Kitty said. She and Nathaniel high fived with barely a glance at each other, which would be impressive if they weren't using their powers for evil. "I can be Lizzy."

"I guess it's decided, then," Piper said, clapping her hands like this was a normal Saturday morning. And like this was all the planning required for having these three out in public. And like it was implied that I would just tag along! "I'm off to work now. Should be home by noon. Oh, and thank you for breakfast, Bart. See you all later!"

And she scampered off, leaving me in the middle of a protest and with two giggling devils. It was with much self-restraint that I didn't hurl scrambled eggs at their faces.

"I should be going too." Kitty sighed, pushing her chair under the table. "It'll be a hectic day for the bakery, but I shouldn't get home too late. Need me to pick up anything on the way home?"

"Yes," I said. "Your loyalty."

Kitty rolled her eyes and grinned at me. Then she walked around the table to pull me into a one-armed squeeze. "I am only working on your ego, Barty. You'll thank me one day."

And then she too was gone. I shook my head after her. "Unbelievable."

Nathaniel hummed. I turned around to find him leaning over the counter, fork in hand. He had turned off the heat and was eating scrambled eggs straight from the pan like an animal. He stabbed a forkful of cherry tomatoes and spinach from the bowl beside it and munched happily, letting out a delighted groan.

My eye twitched.

Nathaniel caught me watching and grinned, that mischievous glint still present. (2) I considered throwing a cloth at him, or better yet—ruining his clothes with a piece of well-aimed buttered toast. But then he'd have to change and one episode with him shirtless during training was one too many.

(2) There is no overstating how put off I was by this. Yesterday he was spiralling, the picture of misery, and lo and behold, he's Mr Mischief not 24 hours later. At first I assumed he was acting this way for Kitty and Piper's benefit. But now I wonder if getting things off his chest has done more for him than I thought possible. Or maybe he's overcompensating. If there is anything those psychology books had taught me, it's that humans process things in all sorts of inane ways.

"Pig," I said instead.

He jutted his chin at me. "The chef's coat suits you, Bart." His smirk was reminiscent of one of my own, and would horrors never cease—maybe we had been sucked into an alternate dimension.

"You are the absolute worst. No more breakfast for you. And I am never letting you psychoanalyse me again."

"Wha—You started it!" Nathaniel grabbed the pan and danced away before I could reach for it. "Please, not my breakfast privileges!"

Karma promptly interfered, making Nathaniel trip and nearly split his skull on the floor. I looped an arm around him and grabbed the pan with my free hand. (3) Nathaniel's hands went to my shoulders, his eyes and mouth comically wide from the scare, earning a good eye roll from yours truly.

(3) What? Let the results of my hard labour go to waste? Not this djinni.

"This is why we don't eat and walk, you toddler."

His heart was thundering against my chest. Nathaniel exhaled shakily and relaxed his grip, hands sliding down to my arms. I shivered. And then regained my senses and let him go, putting some much needed distance between us.

Nathaniel cleared his throat and looked away. "Thanks. But this wasn't supposed to be on the floor in the first place!" He grabbed a cloth bag off the floor, frowning at it as if it had personally offended him. (4) "Did you buy this? Why didn't you put it away?"

(4) Well. Touché.

That was a very good question. I had indeed bought the contents in the bag, and I remembered putting it on a chair, but either Kitty or Piper had put it on the floor (5) and here we were, flirting with yet another hospital visit barely a week after the last.

(5) My money was on Kitty, the girl who threw clothes into boxes.

Well, the cat was about to get out of the bag, so there was no point in delaying the inevitable. "Because it's for you," I said.

Nathaniel's brow creased in the way it did whenever his brain was having trouble processing something. And here was the familiar urge to smooth it over.

"For me?"

"That is what I said, yes."

He eyed me suspiciously—this utter bastard—before lowering his gaze to the bag once more. His face cleared. Nathaniel stole an incredulous glance at me before pulling out a notebook and two thin metal cases, the smaller one containing a set of graphite pencils and the larger a set of coloured pencils.

Revelling in his inability to speak, I said, "A gift from yours truly. I noticed you were running short on paper and pencils. Well… it's your money, so it's your gift to you, but now you can finally do my portraits justice, eh? The lady at the store said these were the very best, so take it up with her if you don't like them."

"Like them?" Nathaniel said at last, voice dangerously tight. He gave a short, breathless laugh as he shook his head. "Bartimaeus, I…"

Nathaniel locked his gaze on mine, seemingly searching for something and still clinging to my gifts like he didn't want to physically separate himself from them. I could swear someone had increased the air pressure in the room. It reminded me of our last training session.

"So you do like them?" There was no good reason to be whispering, other than the fact that suddenly everything had acquired a new weight. I felt like I was right at the edge of something intangible and that the tiniest disturbance would cause me to fall.

"I do, I…" Nathaniel swallowed, and looking me straight in the eye, he said, "I love them."

"Oh. I'm glad." It was my voice's turn to be dangerously tight. And I kept inching closer to the edge. So I patted Nathaniel's shoulder casually, trying to diffuse the rising tension. "Right. Best to finish your breakfast before it gets cold."

But Nathaniel didn't let me go far. He caught my hand in his, slowly lacing our fingers together. Tingles danced from my fingertips up my arm. How the tables had turned—now I was the speechless one.

Nathaniel gave my hand a little tug and I went to him. I let him pull me into a hug. And I put my arms around him and didn't let go.

"Thank you, Bartimaeus."

Kitty

"Thank you."

Kitty ducked under the arm keeping the door open and into the welcoming warmth of the coffee shop, looking over her shoulder to check that Rebecca, Bartimaeus and Nathaniel had followed.

The coffee shop was buzzing with excited conversation from small islands of young people around the room, though luckily not as crowded as expected. Warm string lights ran along the walls, looped over and under paintings and pictures, hugging plants, hanging from the bar counter, draped over the piano. The round wooden tables were decorated with holly. (Kitty could swear she'd spotted mistletoe somewhere and resolved to keep her eyes peeled for it.) But by far the best of all was that the air smelled of cinnamon and cocoa.

They had barely made it to a table when Rebecca brightened, putting the lights to shame. A handsome young man approached, dressed in a leather jacket, jeans and a smile that was most definitely meant for Rebecca only. Was Kitty going to be fifth-wheeling the entire night? Or more importantly, was there enough champagne to keep her sane?

"Hi! You made it," Romeo said, pulling Rebecca into a hug. Kitty waggled her eyebrows at a red-faced Rebecca over Romeo's shoulder, and then turned to Nathaniel, expecting to see him at least amused by this. But instead he was watching the pair with his brow furrowed and distant eyes.

Rebecca stumbled through the introductions, which was equal parts endearing and hilarious. If Kitty was about to suffer through heart-eyes the entire night, she might as well get ammunition to make fun of her dear friends later.

"I feel like I am in the presence of royalty," Romeo said after shaking everybody's hands—including Bartimaeus's, much to his delight.

"I don't know. You got Becca and Bart to agree on something. You might be the real magician," Kitty said.

Romeo laughed and Nathaniel tried not to. "My set is starting soon, but I'll come meet up with you later. For now, though, I'll buy you the first round. How about Irish coffees? They're the house specialty. Three?" He asked this looking directly at Bartimaeus, who smiled in amusement and nodded.

Interesting…

"I know better than to doubt your judgement now," Rebecca said.

Romeo looked delighted. Then he waved to get the barista's attention, lifting three fingers and mouthing 'Irish' and then pointing at himself. Apparently that was enough—the barista nodded and grabbed the whiskey.

"Will will signal when they're ready. Wow, that was a weird thing to say. Okay, I have to go. Wish me luck!"

"Break a leg," Rebecca called after him, looking extremely proud of herself for using the right expression.

Kitty and Bartimaeus shared an impish grin.

"Oh no, don't you two start."

"We didn't say anything. Did we say anything, Bart?"

"Seriously, Becca's so disrespectful—blaming the djinni the first chance she gets."

Nathaniel offered to fetch the drinks before things got derailed again, and Kitty watched him go as Bartimaeus continued mercilessly teasing Rebecca. Nathaniel still looked lost in thought. A couple bumped into him and apologised. Nathaniel blinked at them and stared as the man kissed the woman's temple and pulled her in closer. Then Nathaniel turned to look at Bartimaeus. He frowned some more and accepted the serving tray with the drinks.

"…you're impossible. Kitty, tell him he's impossible."

"Excuse me, I'm not the magician flirting with a commoner. And a musician no less. I make you breakfast—I deserve this level of entertainment in my life."

Nathaniel nearly dropped the tray. Kitty rushed to help him and she saw it—she could almost hear it—something clicking into place inside that impressive skull of his.

They found a table to keep Nathaniel from committing a crime against the Irish coffees and settled down, angling their chairs to face the stage. Romeo and the rest of his group—were they a band?—were already there, pacing about, checking their instruments and equipment. Kitty looked at Rebecca, who was craning her neck to get a better view. And then Kitty looked at Bartimaeus, finding him animatedly chatting at Nathaniel. From this angle she could see Nathaniel's face, and good lord, the way he was staring at Bartimaeus was the opposite of subtle. It was entirely on the other end of the spectrum.

There was not enough alcohol in the world.

When Kitty thought her eyes might get stuck in the back of her skull from rolling them too hard, the band started playing. And she'd be damned—they were good! Well, at least they sounded good to her ears. It was a rock song about falling in love, which was just what she needed on top of everything else. Romeo's voice was hoarse and surprisingly deep and the band was in sync.

"They have a nice bass player, playing off the drums like that," Bartimaeus commented. "Listen to the two of them go."

"Right?" Rebecca said, excitedly turning back to the table to give her two cents. "But did you hear the pianist right before the—"

"The bridge? I did." Bartimaeus looked just as excited. "Very nice riff—"

"Unexpected chord progression—"

Kitty gave Nathaniel an incredulous look, which he reciprocated. Was the world coming to an end or were those two really getting along?

Bartimaeus and Rebecca didn't stop there, of course. This went on for several songs, where they praised and criticised the band's choices. All in all, it seemed to amount to a net positive, even though Kitty didn't understand half of what they were saying. She just sipped her Irish coffee until it was no more and then, noticing Nathaniel had finished his too, dragged him to the bar for a second round. He looked like he needed a distraction.

They placed their orders—orange hot toddy for Kitty and mulled wine for Nathaniel—and Kitty was telling Nathaniel about the chaotic day she'd had and the worst package switch in history while they waited when Nathaniel blurted out, "I apologised to Bartimaeus."

Kitty blinked at him, the words stuck behind her teeth demanding to be let out. She swallowed them back down. "Oh. Again?"

"The first time I only apologised about the situation at hand," he said quickly. She was now noticing that his eyes were a little wild.

"Oh, I see. I'm proud of you!" Kitty beamed at him, squeezing his arm. "And what did he say?"

"That he'd think about it."

"That's great!"

"It is?"

"Of course," Kitty said. The tension radiating off Nathaniel was worrying her a little. "It's not a refusal, and this means he's taking your apology seriously, right?"

"I suppose."

"What's the matter with you? You seemed fine today—happy even. The two of you were chatting just now too. Well, at least he was talking. You've looked a little out of sorts for the past half hour."

"It's just—" Nathaniel cleared his throat, looking around at the occupants of the other bar stools. "Seeing Piper and Romeo just now, I think I've realised something."

"You think you've realised something?"

"Yes, well… Bartimaeus did something…"

Kitty waited. Oh, she knew where this was going. But this was Nathaniel's moment. She couldn't put the pieces together for him.

"He did a lot of things, actually. He saved my life, he… He's been wonderful, really."

Kitty tried to keep her face open and encouraging, but it was so hard with Nathaniel being disgustingly adorable. "Bartimaeus has been known to do something right from time to time."

"That's not—Never mind." Nathaniel attempted a smile that died as soon as it was born. "I know I'm being ridiculous. This is so inappropriate and—and wrong. And this will pass eventually, right? It has to. And he'll return to the Other Place soon. I'm not sure why he hasn't yet, honestly. My treatment is as good as over, and I can certainly get my own protection. Did you ask him to stay? No, never mind. It's none of my business."

"Woah, slow down."

Dear life. First off, three guesses as to why Bartimaeus hadn't gone home yet. She could see him stealing glances at them right now. Secondly, she couldn't understand what had pushed Nathaniel over the edge, but apparently Bartimaeus had 'done something', and Kitty would one-thousand percent grill him about it later. Thirdly, how she going to help Nathaniel untangle this mess was beyond her, but she would try. Just not without the help of the hot toddy that had just been placed in front of her.

"You aren't being ridiculous. I hear this is a very normal, human thing. I wouldn't know. Point is, you have to think about what you want first and then decide what to do about it."

Nathaniel exhaled forcefully and searched her face like he couldn't believe what she'd said. "You're not put off by this?" he sputtered.

Kitty shrugged and smiled, not sorry to disappoint his expectations that he should be judged for this. "I'm a wise woman, Johnny-boy. But this is about you, like I said, and figuring out what you want."

"I'm not sure I know how to do that."

Kitty took his hand. "Me neither," she said earnestly. "I've been figuring it out as I go. The first step was refusing a position in the council. The second was staying to take care of you and Rebecca. The third was letting you take care of me."

Nathaniel squeezed her hand. Kitty smiled.

"It's still wildly inappropriate."

Still expecting to be crucified, then.

"How so? Bartimaeus isn't at your service anymore. You've apologised. You've actually saved his life too. You're trying. What the two of you do behind closed doors is no one's business but your own. Unless either of you starts being a piece of shit to the other, in which case I will personally intervene and guarantee that you can't reproduce and he can't see beyond the third plane."

Nathaniel blushed and gaped for a few moments. "Kitty—"

"Lizzy," she reminded him.

"Right. Lizzy." Nathaniel swallowed, letting his gaze find Bartimaeus. Someone save her—the heart-eyes had arrived. "He's a djinni."

"Yes. And he's a person."

"I—yes, but—"

"I'm not telling you to shout your love from the highest mountains—"

Nathaniel's face went so red that for a moment she wasn't sure if the steam was coming out from his ears or from the coffee machine behind him. "I didn't say anything about love—"

"It would be a very difficult journey for you both."

"I'm sure he doesn't feel the same way. He can't. That's—just the idea—it's laughable at best."

"Okay, if you say so. Just riddle me this, will you? What did Bartimaeus do that made you—well, like this?" She gestured to him with one hand. "And why did it make you face this now?"

"I…"

"You don't have to answer. This is not for my benefit, it's for yours. Just give it some thought, will you?"

Nathaniel nodded. "Thank you. And sorry for dropping this on you out of the blue. I was going a bit crazy."

"I could tell. And any time, mate." They smiled at each other. "But maybe now we could go and dance off this pent-up energy, hm?"

Kitty didn't really let Nathaniel answer. She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of his stool and into the crowd like any good friend would. The band had just started playing a new song that Kitty could swear she recognised from somewhere and the coffee shop cheered as soon as Romeo started singing.

"This feels very reminiscent of my birthday!" Nathaniel shouted over the music.

"But this time you can actually stand and move! It's a do-over!" Kitty yelled back, raising their arms and twirling underneath. Nathaniel laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Good. They needed more of this.

All their steps were nonsensical. Nathaniel kept trying to pull from his ballroom experience—the things magicians deemed appropriate for their education, my goodness—and Kitty was trying to imitate a group of young people who seemed to know what they were doing. It resulted in a lot of laughter, so she considered it a win.

"It's nice seeing you like this," she told him.

"It's nice seeing you like this."

Kitty nodded. Nathaniel wasn't the only one in need of a break, was he?

But she didn't want to think about that now. So she danced and danced, letting Nathaniel dip her and nearly drop her from them both laughing so hard. And then she nearly fell again when someone collided with her.

"Hey, watch it, dumb—Sam?"

"Ms Jones? And Mr—"

"Shh!"

Kitty grabbed Nathaniel and Sam and dragged them to the side of the room, under a tangle of leaves and lights. It was so strange to see Sam in casual attire that she almost hadn't recognised him at first. She still hadn't recovered from first seeing Nathaniel in casual attire that evening. And she was pretty sure Bartimaeus's mind had stopped working for a moment.

"Lizzy and Johnny-boy," Kitty said, pointing to herself and then to Nathaniel.

"Oh God," Nathaniel groaned.

Sam was equal parts amused and confused. "…Okay?"

"Great. What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, I assume. Celebrating New Year's."

"No, you don't get days off. That's a blatant lie."

Sam chuckled and looked down at his glass. "It is a bit of a miracle. I don't remember the last time I got a day off on New Year's Eve. And I'd been hoping to spend it with my girlfriend, but…" He shrugged.

A girlfriend? He'd never mentioned one. Not that he should have, considering their relationship. Of course Sam had a life outside the hospital—and thank goodness, since sometimes it seemed that he lived there. It was just so strange to see him like this, out in the open, not working, wearing jeans. Kitty was usually suffering from either an emotional or physical ailment—or both—whenever they met.

"Did she get pulled into a shift?"

"Oh. No, she didn't. She just… wasn't feeling well. But she still wanted me to come out and see my friend play."

"Don't tell me your friend's the singer." There were only so many coincidences Kitty could take in one night.

"No, the bass player. Mary."

"Really? Our friends love her. They've been singing her praises from the first song. Pun not intended."

Sam smiled warmly. "She is incredible. I've known her since we were kids. She actually went to med school for a year. In the end, anatomy did it for her. She fainted in the dissecting room."

"Sounds like she made the right choice."

"We thought we recognised you," Piper said, coming up from behind Kitty.

"It was the megawatt smile," Bartimaeus added. He was carrying Kitty and Nathaniel's drinks.

"Did you just leave our things at the table for anyone to grab them? I left my wallet in your care!"

"Relax, Lizzy dearie. Don't you know who you're here with? I'd rather profit from gambling away your things than—"

"Bart—"

"There's an illusion placed around the table. Satisfied?"

Sam was watching this interaction with a fond smile. "It's nice to see you all getting along and out of the hospital for once."

Piper raised her own drink in bemused acknowledgement. "Cheers to that."

"It's mostly Johnny's fault," Bartimaeus said, breaking into a grin at Nathaniel's scowl. "I think he likes the food."

"I think he likes to add grey to my hair."

"I think someone's being insensitive about the grey hair thing."

"I think what Mr—Johnny enjoyed the most was the company of his friends."

Well, that put an end to the fun. Nathaniel was most decidedly blushing, which he was trying to cover up by drinking his wine. Kitty caught Sam's eye. Had he really picked up on it during Nathaniel's first hospital stay? Not even she had.

Nathaniel was saved by applause and Romeo, who chose that moment to say, "Thank you! You've been the absolute best audience. Now, we have one last song planned." Cue the disappointed groans and boos from the audience. Romeo grinned good-naturedly. "Time flies when you're having this much fun, doesn't it? But speaking of the last song, we'd like to invite a special guest to the stage. Our pianist really needs a break and the band can't do this next song without a pianist. So if you'd please join us on stage, Becca."

They all turned to look at Rebecca, whose face mirrored their shock. Sam was the first to recover. He clasped Rebecca's shoulder and offered her one of his trademark smiles. "I didn't know you were playing tonight. This is such a nice surprise!"

"I—" Rebecca opened and closed her mouth several times. "I didn't know either."

"Becca?" Romeo urged, scanning the crowd with narrowed eyes.

Soon it turned into a chant.

Piper

"I promise it's an easy song. Classic I-vi-ii-V, C major. Nothing to worry about," Romeo was saying as he guided her to the piano.

Piper could barely remember climbing onto the stage, prodded by her so-called friends and the crowd chanting her name. If she could stand before a council of ill-tempered politicians, she could stand on a stage and play four basic chords without losing her composure, right?

She was still definitely murdering Romeo afterwards, however.

Piper conveyed this with a glare when her back was turned to the audience, nearly tripping on some cabling. Romeo steadied her and then raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I hear you loud and clear. But I think you'll like the experience. You came up here, didn't you?"

Piper didn't dim her glare in the slightest. She blamed the alcohol for that lapse in judgement. "Just give me the sheet music or whatever you have so I don't look like a total failure."

Romeo grinned and motioned towards the piano.

Sensing that this would take a minute, the bass player stepped forward and started telling the audience where and when they would be performing next and that they were taking suggestions for a band name that wasn't TBD.

Meanwhile, Piper sat down on the bench, stomach cramping painfully. She was completely exposed on stage. There was absolutely nowhere to hide. Not to mention that she'd never played with a group. And that she had to sight read on top of all else—the sheet music actually had more than just chords! There was a proper staff and everything! And Romeo had drawn extra attention to her, so every mistake she made would be on full display.

This was a living nightmare.

"Feel free to skip the flourishes and keep to the chords. Like I said, typical harmonic progression. Peter even wrote the chords for each measure, see?"

"You owe me a lifetime supply of blueberry lemon muffins after this," Piper ground out from between clenched teeth.

"Anything you want," he said with a grin. "Ready?"

"Not even a little."

Romeo was ready, however. He got the microphone from the bass player and as he waited for her to get ready, he addressed the crowd again. Some corny rubbish about singing along if they knew the song, and it going out to the hearts in love in the crowd. Piper was barely listening and not feeling the love at all, however. Oh no, she was furiously reading the pages in front of her, ghosting her fingers over the keys in a desperate attempt at familiarising herself with the song.

And then, before she was even remotely ready, the drummer counted them off and the song began. Piper hit the first chord with the rest of the band. There, she could do this. The intro was easy. And then the chords only changed once per measure. Oh god, it was only her and Romeo now and he winked at her and this song was so tender and why would he do that she was barely keeping it together as it was—

The bass and drums joined in, thank goodness. Yes, fill in around the piano, please. Anything to keep this performance grounded. Oh, they were singing the harmonies too. Very pretty. Not the time to get distracted, Piper!

She'd been so distracted by, well, not getting distracted that she hadn't noticed that most of the audience seemed to know the lyrics. She dared a glance at the pool of strangers and found Kitty waving her arms in the air—getting very purposefully in Bartimaeus's face—and singing along.

Shit, there was a new chord progression and she'd fucked it up. She managed to recover on the second beat, but it was too late—the harm had been done. The bass player had caught her and she'd… winked?

What was it with all the winking tonight?

Face burning from shame, Piper ducked her head and focused on the music. When they finally got to the chorus, she realised she knew the song too. And then she blushed because this was definitely a romantic song. She chanced a second glance, this time at Romeo, finding him fully engrossed in the performance—face glistening, fingers dancing over the guitar's strings. He was beautiful. He sounded beautiful.

Back to the keys before she had a heart attack. There was a small instrumental coming up, but it relied on the same structure, so she was fine. Hey, maybe she could do this. It was just as Romeo said—mostly the same chords, she barely had to worry about the rhythm at all.

And then Piper thought that she could try some of the more melodic content written for the right hand. It was mostly arpeggios; she knew how to do those—oops, she hit a wrong note. Back to the basics, then.

Yes, it was the exact same thing as the beginning, thank goodness. Piper was starting to enjoy this. Now that she knew the chords, now that she'd found her rhythm with the band, she thought she could survive this performance after all. And then her eyes were drawn to Romeo again, and he caught her staring. He sang, "Don't look at me like this," with the most insufferable smile she'd ever seen in her life.

That was the last straw—no more looking at him. She was going to finish this performance with her dignity mostly intact, thank you very much.

Before long, Piper found that she was singing along to the parts she knew too. She even searched for her friends in the audience again, finding Nathaniel already looking at her and smiling. He gave her a tiny thumbs up. She smiled at the keys.

And then Romeo dragged the microphone—stand and all—over to her right before the second chorus, grinning from ear to ear like the devil himself.

"I hate you," Piper mouthed.

Unfazed, he put the microphone between them and launched into the chorus with even more energy than the first time and Piper, not wanting to be perceived as a party-pooper, joined him, albeit a lot more timidly.

Well, he knew how to put on a good show at least. The audience was eating it up. Were those cigarette lighters? Bloody hell, these people were committed. And a fire hazard too. Did they not see the amount of plants hanging from everywhere?

Oh God. This was a new progression and Romeo better get that microphone away from her face—Ohgodohgodohgod, they were definitely going to modulate! It was fine—she just had to move one tone up. It was fine. D major was still easy. The chords were written. She was going to be fine—

Yes! She made it. Only to mess up the fifth chord by playing C instead of C sharp. Whatever. They were almost done. The band was ramping it up and Piper was flying with them. Laughter almost bubbled out of her. So this was what it felt like to perform on stage.

And then the song came to an end. Just like that. Applause swallowed them. Piper was being pulled to her feet by an overeager Romeo before she knew what was happening. He was saying how amazing she was, eyes shining with admiration, and Piper really did laugh then. Peter, the official pianist, joined them on stage for the final bow. She saw Kitty, Nathaniel and even Bartimaeus cheering along and, feeling bold and probably a little drunk, Piper blew them a kiss.

Before long, Piper was being pushed backstage by Romeo and brushing past the band that was playing next. Both bands whooped and laughed and congratulated each other loudly. Peter threw his arms around the drummer and bass player as the latter observed Peter could take sick days now.

"You wound me, Mary."

"Well, your sweaty armpits offend me, Pete. Becca here at least doesn't stink."

"Olivia!" Peter whined.

The drummer rolled her eyes and said, "Okay, off to the bar. It's almost midnight and I can't stand the two of you sober. Later, Shakespeare. Nice meeting you, Becca. Feel free to crash rehearsal whenever."

Olivia lifted her fist. Piper laughed and raised hers to bump Olivia's, and then Peter's and Mary's as well. Romeo forced the band into a hug full of complaining and eye rolls. He hadn't stopped grinning since the end of the concert. Piper hadn't either.

When the band was gone, Romeo turned to her with an expression too mischievous to be completely repentant and said, "Is this the part where you kill—"

Piper didn't let him finish. Overcome with emotion and exhilaration, she grabbed Romeo by his infuriating leather jacket and crashed her lips to his. He gasped but recovered quickly, putting his hands on her waist to pull her in as he kissed her back. Piper smiled into the kiss, revelling in his reaction, tingling from head to toe.

"Rebecca…" Romeo said, laughing breathlessly against her lips.

"It's almost midnight," she said as he left a trail of soft kisses all over her jaw, turning her brain to mush. She was really glad he was holding her up; she had absolutely no faith in her knees at the moment.

"Is that what this is?" His voice hitched as Piper boldly kissed his neck, fingers sliding up his soft hair. "Maybe I should pull you on stage more often."

Piper laughed, more than a little breathless too, and kissed him again.

And again.

And again.

Nathaniel

Piper joined them again, flushed and beaming, right at the beginning of the countdown to midnight. She and Kitty showed up at the same time, Kitty holding champagne glasses for everyone—including Bartimaeus—and Piper holding Romeo's hand.

"Aw, she still wants to hang out with us now that she's a rockstar," Kitty shouted over the crowd. Piper rolled her eyes and accepted the champagne just as the coffee shop got to number eight.

Seven. "To new things," said Romeo, looking right at Piper.

Six. "To belonging," said Piper.

Five. "To everyone's health," said Sam, rather predictably but no less endearing.

Four. "To friendship." Kitty grinned at all of them.

Three. "To improving," said Nathaniel.

Two. "To home."

One.

The crowd erupted around them, corks popping off, confetti raining down, hugs and kisses being shared all around them. Nathaniel drank his champagne and laughed as Kitty downed Bartimaeus's glass after finishing her own. Piper slid an arm around his torso, giving him a squeeze and a smile. Kitty threw an arm around Bartimaeus, pushing him into Nathaniel as she grabbed Sam with her champagne hand.

It was the second group hug of Nathaniel's life.

He'd never been happier.

When the excitement died down and the band transitioned into a slower song, Nathaniel took the opportunity to wander to the displays of photographs and paintings on the wall. They were mostly depictions of different cities. At first they all looked unremarkable—a dark alley under the ghostly halo of a lamppost, wet footprints on the path under a bridge, a building in ruin covered in moss and ivy. But then he noticed that there were never people in these images, only the odd human-shaped shadow. Plus, these were famous cities, but there were no landmarks to be found.

Nathaniel stopped before a particularly large black and white photograph, familiarity tugging at his memory.

"Ah, Prague!" Bartimaeus exclaimed, amused. Nathaniel hadn't even heard him approach, though he supposed it was hard with all the noise. His heart immediately picked up the pace. "There is no place quite like it."

"You really liked the chaos of that city. It boggles the mind."

It also boggled the mind how this had happened at all. This being that he apparently had feelings for a djinni—a djinni, for crying out loud! And what had he done instead of keeping it quiet and let it run its course? He'd told Kitty. Part of him had hoped she'd tell him he was confused, misreading his emotions, still reeling from last week's stress. But he knew now that he'd been delaying the inevitable, ignoring and even actively pushing against the truth.

"Look, before I got inside your head and got my mind all messed up with thoughts of order and tidiness, chaos was the only thing that made sense. Besides, it wasn't just the chaos. It was the interesting architecture—the old and new coming together, a proper, unplanned city full of personality. The history oozing from every single building. The old magic still lingering."

Bartimaeus's eyes sparkled more than usual as he described a city that had been so foreign and stressful to fourteen-year-old Nathaniel. It tugged at his heart. And it tugged at the corners of his lips so that he couldn't help but smile.

And there went his resistance, probably taking his dignity by the hand on the way out too. How had he not seen this? He'd been smitten before, with Jane Farrar. Now he could scarcely recall why, but she was—had been—quite beautiful. So he'd convinced himself this was the same thing—he was just attracted to Bartimaeus's guises. But honestly, it wasn't that Bartimaeus chose beautiful guises at all—yesterday's would have been forgettable on anyone else—but rather that Bartimaeus was beautiful. Nathaniel could avert his gaze all he wanted. It wouldn't make a difference.

"Maybe I misunderstood it, then. I should visit again someday."

"Ooh, I could show you all the best spots and tell you what really happened there. No tourist traps with me around, no siree."

Nathaniel very nearly stopped breathing. Just a moment ago Bartimaeus had toasted to home and now…

Realisation dawned on Bartimaeus's handsome features and his excitement dissolved into mild panic. "Well, I mean… That is to say…" Bartimaeus looked away, eyes darting between the different pictures on the wall. "If you ever find yourself in Prague, with some free time—unlikely, knowing you… But if you do… And if I'm available, then… I wouldn't be too opposed to being summoned."

Nathaniel swallowed down the butterflies raging up and down his stomach. He shouldn't hope for anything. Averting his gaze, he considered the photograph that had prompted this discussion—Prague with its pavement cracks, irregular streets, stormy sky, and endless possibility. And in his mind's eye he painted Bartimaeus there, in this same dark-haired and dark-skinned guise, with the same excited, open face, spouting nonsensical tales and looking at Nathaniel with mirth in his eyes. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. It was the most beautiful piece of art that had ever been made and it didn't even exist. Yet.

"I would like that."

Bartimaeus's soft gaze landed on him before quickly moving away again. He cleared his throat. "Of course you would. I'm an overqualified tour guide."

"No, I…" Nathaniel stopped himself, weighing his options. Did he dare be this bold? Did he dare show Bartimaeus his hand like this? Did he dare not to? "I would like to see the old, but I would also like to find the new with you."

A pause.

"And what would we find?"

"Whatever we wanted."

Bartimaeus turned towards him fully. "Nat, I…"

Then he stopped, gaze drifting up. A murmur rose from the people around them and Nathaniel knew. He knew, but he looked up anyway to find a mistletoe sprig hanging over their heads. Of all the miserable circumstances.

Heart pounding and face burning, Nathaniel lowered his gaze to Bartimaeus's again. His breath hitched. Bartimaeus's eyes were liquid amber in the warm light, and they poured into Nathaniel's so hotly it was almost impossible not to look away.

"Silly human traditions," Nathaniel said, attempting a casual laugh. Blimey, someone really ought to check the heating or open a window.

"Honestly, we shouldn't be toying with our luck, considering recent events," Bartimaeus said with a snort that fell uncharacteristically flat.

He couldn't mean…

Bartimaeus stepped closer, right into Nathaniel's personal space, his safety zone. Nathaniel didn't feel unsafe, however. Not at all. He was burning. He wanted this—how long had he wanted this? How long had he been pretending otherwise?

But no. Not like this. Not with an audience and not when Bartimaeus felt forced to kiss him because of some idiotic tradition involving a parasitic plant of all things.

So Nathaniel took Bartimaeus's hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, catching the surprise in his eyes.

Then he turned on his heel and fled.

Bartimaeus

I blinked at the spot Nathaniel had occupied just moments before, an odd frustration welling up in my essence.

There was no need to be so dramatic. I had only gone along with it because we had an audience. Because of tradition. It wouldn't have to mean anything. I just wanted a quick kiss—well, not wanted. Poor choice of words, that was. I got caught up in the moment. Nathaniel was looking at me in a way that made my essence spin in a funny way and what he'd been saying before—

Well. It didn't matter now. He was so opposed to the idea that he just kissed the back of my hand. Probably thought that was the barest minimum of acceptable for not getting more cursed than we already were.

He was probably right.

Best to leave it be.

And that's it for 2021! Thank you for sticking with me and for all of your kudos and lovely comments. I know I haven't always been the most regular updater, but goddammit, I will keep going with as much love and care as ever and finish this fic to the best of my ability. Here's to us and to an hopefully better new year!
(P.S - if you want to know which song I used in Piper's scene, here's the YouTube link: watch?v=TzmyooZfbEE&ab_channel=kourtoukoutoui.)