I'm Back! Lured in by prompt week. I will write something for all 7 prompts - Haunted had this one scene that just refused to work nicely until yesterday morning and my editor hasn't had time to look at it yet. Hopefully we'll get back on track.

Anyway, enjoy Analessa and Aberath interacting with their idiots.


It wasn't as if scrying glasses were the worst device magicians had dreamed up. Dipping the tip of one claw into the inkwell to use as a pen, Analessa noted down the magicians responsible for the last four imps she'd caught and reflected that if she were actually forced to rank what she considered the worst, the list would definitively start with indefinite confinement. You would probably get five or six entries down[1]before you hit scrying glasses.

No, it was how they used the glasses that made her mad. When you had a device that would let you see pretty much anything you could want, why did so many use it to perv on unsuspecting commoners?

Fortunately, the magicians who usually summoned her didn't use their scrying glasses for perving. Stalking their relatives? Yes. Perving? No. Not that they were above such shenanigans, but mostly because they were generally competent enough to maintain actual adult relationships, and ever since the Doolittle affair, Analessa had - oh how would Lizcka put it? - been type cast as a djinn not to trifle with.[2]

"Hey Ana?" little Lizcka called out from the bathroom. The shower was still running, which mean that whatever she wanted was beyond reach of the warm wet cocoon she was enjoying. Analessa signed with an air of fondness. Only an air though. It was true that she had been responsible for the girl, if not from birth, then at least since toddlerhood. By dint of summoning clause, she had been forced to practically become a mother to this confused and distraught child who had suddenly lost the only parent she had ever known.[3]Fortunately, the girl was tolerable as far as humans went, but Analessa certainly wasn't attached.

Just then, Analessa spotted the telltale signs of another imp. "I'm a bit busy love. You'll have to get whatever you left on the bathroom counter yourself."

After several human lifetimes of practice catching imps and otherwise discouraging their activity, Analessa had learned that there was little point in eating the wee beasties. More would simply replace them. However, extracting their master's names was simple enough, and it was both amusing and rewarding to send frightened imps back to report on the futility of the whole shower scrying thing. Plus, Makepeace would be sure to reinforce the lesson with their masters when Analessa turned over the list the next time she saw him.

"Ana?" Lizcka called again, but Analessa did not respond. She was currently defending Lizcka's honor. It was part of what she'd spent a better part of the last decade doing – making sure Lizcka grew up to be a happy, healthy, considerate and scandal-free adult – and so far she had done a stellar job. It wasn't like she'd grown fond of the girl. No, really, it was more about avoiding a black mark on her spotless record. She was a djinn with a taste for human, there was no way would she waste so much effort on one out of any sense of affection. Really.

The imp[4]did not immediately spot her lounging on the dresser in the shape of a fluffy white Siberian cat next to the open vial of ink and the page. As far as imps went, it was certainly smarter than most. Instead of making a beeline for the bathroom door at the sounds of the shower, it cast around the room looking for something instead. Almost as if it expected an ambush.

Which made sense, because she knew this imp. It was the only one who dared return after she'd caught it before. It belonged to Mandrake, the twit.[5]If she had known Mandrake under different circumstances, Analessa would not have had an issue with the boy, but as things stood, there were two rather large strikes against him: he was a magician (obviously), and Makepeace saw a little bit too much of himself in the young man - which meant he was charming, generally considerate, and ruthlessly ambitions.

Most magicians close to Lizcka's own age were also too green-gilled and cowed by Makepeace to try courting her.[6]Magicians who were significantly older did try[7]but Lizcka was too sensible and self-aware to be swept off her feet by someone old enough to be her guardian. This effectively left Mandrake as the only magician with both the right age and temperament. And worse, Makepeace practically approved. Of course, Lizcka found Mandrake charming, which left Analessa to handle the inevitable damage control.

Mandrake's imp stole over to the bed, still cautiously checking around the room. Analessa watched him tiptoe over, and then languid and catlike, she finally moved. This caught his attention, and when he saw her coming, he made to flee, but it was too late. He was neatly flattened under her as she pounced.

"Well, well well," She purred, ignoring all the vile language coming from below her, "who do we have here? I believe we've met before."

"Oi! Get'ff me." The imp's voice was rather muffled. "I wasn't trying to get a look in at the girl, even if she's -" The rest of the imp's comment was cut-off by a painful yelp as Analessa applied pressure in a few specific areas.

"Then why are you back? Enlighten me."

"ANNNNA!" Lizcka's cry from the bathroom drowned out whatever obscenity laced response the imp was about to provide. "It's important!"

"Kitten. You're a big girl now. You know how to handle shampoo in your eyes. I believe in you."

"It's not that." The sound of the shower stopped "I just remembered - John said something about scheduling lunch plans. You need to be nice when Wizjit shows up. Apparently you scared him half to death last time. And then you accused him of trying to steal something from my dresser?"

"I'm just trying to be careful Lizcka." The smile in her voice came out a tad forced. The imp made a victorious sound.

"And I understand Ana – really, I do. It's just… well, can you do that without terrorizing anyone?" There were more sounds.

Analessa managed to move off the rather squashed imp just as a towel rapped head poked around the bathroom door.

"Oh hello Wizjit!" Lizcka was the only person who could look pleased to see an imp. "I didn't realize you'd gotten here already. I'll be out in a minute!"

The stupid imp sat down in victory.

Footnotes:

[1]It really depended on how you counted magic carpets. On the one hand, being stuck as a carpet was so unflattering. On the other, it meant you were free to go wherever the hell you wanted if a magician wasn't present.

[2]Horace Doolittle had been a wart of a magician who couldn't draw a proper pentacle if his life depended on it – which it did. He was delicious. In fact, it turned out that a reoccurring perk of Analessa's job meant she occasionally got to eat, or otherwise inconvenience, the magicians who summoned her – so few would dare call upon her for something as mundane as using their scrying glasses for inappropriate activities.

[3]Quentin Makepeace had not come clean to Elizabeth about his involvement in her existence until after she had been his ward for half a decade.

[4]In another world, the comparison might be made to a tiny, deeply rude, Wallace Shawn.

[5]As in, both the magician and the imp where twits. In fact, it was hard to tell which was more twitty.

[6]But not too cowed to attempt spying on her, hence the constant flood of imps

[7]These were also usually smart enough not to try scrying on her in the shower, but oh, the schadenfreude when they weren't.


Aberath

As usual, whenever Emma went anywhere, the flat was in chaos. Breakfast dishes where left soaking in the sink[1] and notes on digs, exhibits, interviews and all the affiliated museum paperwork remained scattered around what was supposed to be their dining room, but had long ago surrendered and became simply an colony of Emma's study. Usually Emma wasn't influenced by her British upbringing. At least the notes hadn't begun their conquest by planting a flag.

They were still a good half an hour out from the critical departure time; but today, it seemed that the perpetually missing and ever changing items that always held them up would include Emma's thermos and her left boot - both of which were in some way attached to the hall tree in their flat's entry way.[2] Naturally, Emma had yet to notice she'd lost either. Unusually, they were actually on track to leave on time. Or maybe even early. Except...

"Are you sure that my hair doesn't look like I put colander on top of my head?" His magician[3] asked for the third time from the bathroom. "It doesn't look stupid?"

"Your hair always looks fine." And, that was a lie. Once the humidity got over a certain level, Emma's hair frizzed like nothing else

"You're not even looking at it!"

"Have you changed it since the last time I was asked?" The silence was all the confirmation he needed, "Look why are you so hung up on your hair this morning?" Usually, the pressing threat of being late was caused by things like over-sleeping or getting distracted by something in her notes. Not hair and makeup.

"Jessica, may have heard me telling John all about the new exhibit. I was just so excited I had to someone. He's a good listener. Well, one thing led to another and now I'm giving a private tour to half the council. Funding for the Ti Leno Dig is on the line - my hair cannot look ridiculous."

"You know, I think your ongoing friendship with that woman is related to your habit of trying to pick up and cuddle venomous reptiles."

Emma stuck her head out of the bathroom - her hair still exactly the same as the last time he'd seen it - and glared. "Really?"

"I think it's worth considering. You do remember what happened with that eyelash viper."

"Nobody got bitten!" Emma was back in the bathroom. What followed was a stream of clattering, struggle, and cursing as she gave up on that particular style and started over from scratch.

"Would you like me to do your hair?" Aberath finally offered.

"Please?"

Moments later, Emma was sitting ramrod straight on the dining room chair that had the best light. Laid out on the table next to her were the sparse set of hair products and implements that she owned.[4] Gently, Aberath unwove the up-do Emma had managed on her own. Running his fingers through the soft smooth strands of her hair, he began to do a preliminary brushing and asked,

"So, what exactly were you trying to achieve?"

"You know," Emma shrugged without shifting anything but her shoulders. "What I normally do, but slightly fancier." Relieved of the stress of actually managing her hair, Emma's voice lost the edge it had carried all morning. "Honestly, I wouldn't have bothered to do anything but my usual bun, but yesterday, Mr. Barton spent our entire staff meeting hammering home how we all need to look not just presentable, but our best, because of the funding."

Aberath snorted. "If that's his concern, he should hide any staff member who isn't a conventionally attractive young woman in the back, and then hire several more, because that would reduce his staff to basically you. Nobody who has control over the purse strings of the empire really cares about the importance of the history or science. Ok, now tilt your head this way… a little more…no, not that far."

He reached around and gently corrected the placement of Emma's chin.

"That is so horrible. I mean, it probably would work, but it's still horrible."

"Hmm, I might also need to have a word with Mr. Barton if he actually tried anything like that." Abernath whispered in Emma's ear, for which he was rewarded with a squeak and a jump.

He laughed and went back to fixing the self-inflicted hair damage. She huffed and muttered. "Ya, well that's not happening."

Fifteen minutes later, he was done. He handed Emma a mirror, and then leaned against a wall and grinned as she twisted around trying to get a good look at the back of her head.

"Thank you!" She was practically bouncing. It was adorable. "It's exactly what I was trying to do. What would I do without you?"

"Oh, you'd probably have gotten squished by that cave-in, or shot by the lunatic Jake over that unaltered copy of the Tela Maru Poem, or killed in the explosion when you mistranslated those runes the last time we were in Ti Leno, which would have inevitably triggered any number of traps, or..."

"Ok, OK." She cut him off with a laugh, "I get it. You're totally invaluable. Let me grab my notes and maybe we can get to work early." She followed this triumphant pronouncement with a kiss on the cheek.

They were not just out of the flat, but the building and almost a full block down the street, before either of them remembered her thermos, but they still got to the museum early.

Footnotes:

[1]And as it was Emma's week for household chores. And thus all those chores where pushed back to the end of the day.

[2]The boot, accidentally kicked under it. The thermos sitting on top of it; placed there after also being left but then recovered from first the microwave; then the bathroom counter.

[3]in a technical sense. Aberath preferred to think of Emma as the counterweight that let him explore the fascinating world the humans resided in, without getting permanently stuck there.

[4]He also noticed she'd also found the missing boot, which gave him a slight thrill of pride.


Fun fact about each of our spotlight djinn - Analessa was originally created as part of her dynamic with Makepeace "The shotgun wielding father having a sentient shotgun who was in agreement with him.". AS far as this djinn is concerned Elizabeth is an unruly kitten who is always getting herself into some type of trouble.

Aberath and Emma did not start out as a couple. They were originally just friends. And I mean, actually just best friends. They did the romance thing all by themselves. I SWEAR. Aberath is on his best behavior here. Usually, gossip is next to godliness, and people who won't use his gossip without a citation are cowards. Emma's also on her best behavior. She didn't throw her hairbrush at him.