This must be my shortest oneshot in ages. So short and plotless and smutless in fact, that it's more like a very long drabble than a oneshot. I have no idea what to call this anymore...

Anyway, it is inspired by several ideas I was given by a reviewer for a different story. I couldn't use them for that story, but I wanted to write something else out of it instead. And it seems that every self respecting author in this fandom must have done at least one drunk Ja'far piece, so here I am adding my madness to this world.

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, cursing, do-not-try-this-at-home's with daggers, and likely some mistakes in my English.

I do not own Magi: Labyrinth of Magic or any of its characters.

She says it's yours

"I'm going to kill that bitch so hard she will spin in circles until she can't see straight!"

Sinbad blinked in confusion, both him and Sharrkan going silent the moment the slurred scream reached them through the hall.

"Is that...?" Sharrkan's jaw dropped. Sinbad spun around, just in time to see Ja'far stumbling into a wall.

"Ja'far!" He quickly hurried to the man sagging onto the floor, trying not to trip over the wires dragging around him. "Ja'far, what is going on? Are you... Are you drunk?"

Ja'far glowered up at his surprised face. Sinbad had to admit he looked unreasonably cute with his face flushed like this. Until the snot started dripping from his nose, at least.

"You fucking king who can't keep his dick to himself."

"Wow," Sharrkan whistled, "I can't even remember the last time I heard him use words like that."

"Ja'far, why are you running through the palace drunk?" Sinbad ignored Sharrkan in favour of tugging Ja'far into a slightly more comfortable looking position. "And why have you been crying?" He wiped his thumb over a wet cheek. He could've blamed a few tears on the drunkenness of his advisor, but his red rimmed eyes told him that wasn't all of it. Ja'far was upset with something, and it sounded like someone would get in trouble if they left Ja'far on the loose like this. He just hoped it wouldn't be him.

"You!" Ja'far accused with a thick tongue. He threw his hand up to point at Sinbad, nearly poking him an eye out. "It's your fault."

"What is?"

"Fucking woman is pregnant. She says it's yours. Perverted useless shit."

"A pregnant woman? I didn't make anyone pregnant recently, I can assure you. If I do something risky I have them pass by Yamraiha."

"So that's why she always complains so much," Sharrkan muttered behind him.

"She says it's yours." Ja'far flung his hands up, nearly slashing Sinbad with the dangling knives. He pushed Sinbad away harshly, making the crouched man lose his balance. "She demands things. It's your fault!"

"Ja'far, I tell you I didn't get anyone pregnant!" He sat up quickly as Ja'far lurched to his feet unsteadily. "Ja'far!"

"Gonna kill her."

"No you don't." Sinbad stopped dead in his tracks when one of the knives flew by him, barely missing his nose. By the time he refocused on his first advisor, another dagger had been embedded in the floor beneath him, pinning his robes down.

Ja'far bolted.

"He's-"

"Don't stand there, get him!" Sinbad sighed in exasperation when Sharrkan finally ran after his drunk colleague, leaving Sinbad with one of his many daggers stuck to the floor.

"Damn."

It wasn't a surprise it took him the better part of the next five minutes to wrench the dagger out of the hard stone floor, and Sharrkan's shouting at Ja'far had long since faded into the halls of the palace. Sinbad stood, feeling unusually disgruntled about his advisor. It was Ja'far's job to keep him within bounds when he got drunk, not the other way around. This behaviour was highly unprecedented.

And he was usually such a cute drunk too.

Running after his two generals only resulted in him finding Sharrkan pinned to a door with three different daggers, but no Ja'far.

"You let him get away in that state?" Sinbad asked his general, eyebrow raised mockingly. He went to pull out the dagger securing Sharrkan's right arm.

"You're one to talk," Sharrkan grumbled, "I didn't even know he had that many daggers on him. I thought he only used those two with the wires."

"Even I don't know how many daggers he has on himself, but I can assure you he's got a lot more than the four we've seen."

"He better not be hurting anyone." As soon as Sinbad liberated one hand Sharrkan went to pulling on the knife pinning his other hand down.

"I don't think he'll actually hurt someone, but just in case I'm going to go after him anyway. When you're free, go find Masrur."

"Understood."

Sinbad quickly went down the halls, listening carefully for any sounds of his drunk advisor. He hadn't been too subtle with his noises before, so it should be a good way of finding him.

This silence meant either he'd gotten away really far, or he had fallen asleep against some wall.

A sudden crash made him turn around, hurrying to a balcony. Throwing the doors open, he found the drunkard sprawled over the floor between the shards of a very large flower pot.

"How... How did you manage to break that?"

Ja'far blinked up at him sleepily.

"Whatever. Let's get you to bed before you break something else."

"No." Ja'far pouted, curling on his side.

"Watch it! Don't lie down between the shards, you idiot." Sinbad hurried over to pull Ja'far up, but the pale man struggled.

"No! No no no no! I don't wanna go!"

"I don't care what you want, you're coming with me."

Sinbad hauled Ja'far to his feet, dragging him off the balcony back into the halls.

"You always have to ruin everything." Sinbad cringed at the sobbing, but refused to relent.

Ja'far hit at Sinbad's hand weakly, whining and sobbing like a small child. "Why are you always so mean? You always give me more work. When I get to have fun you ruin it."

"To be fair, whenever I get drunk you come pester me too."

"Noooo. You always do this. Why is she pregnant?"

"She isn't pregnant from me, whoever she is. Now please stop crying, Ja'far, it's unbecoming."

Ja'far only wailed louder, now going into a full temper tantrum instead of simply sobbing. Sinbad turned around quickly, trying to calm him down before he attracted more attention. Ja'far would be mortified when he found out what he did in the morning, and he didn't need a ruined image with it.

"It's all your fault, stupid Sin! You're stupid, stupid!"

Well, at last he wasn't cursing anymore.

Sinbad squeaked undignified when he suddenly had a dagger pressed against his cheek. He quickly stepped back, letting go of Ja'far's hand.

"Ja'far, stop waving around those knives. You could seriously hurt someone!"

"You hurt me first," the advisor wailed, tripping forward to slash at Sinbad clumsily. Sinbad easily caught Ja'far's wrist, knowing he hadn't really tried to hurt him. His aim had been impeccable just minutes ago, so there was no way he was so clumsy now if he really intended to slash Sinbad. That at least was a relief.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, ok? Now please, just let me take you to your room and put you to bed. You'll feel better when you sleep."

"I don't wanna sleep." Ja'far pouted at him, eyes already drooping again.

"Yes, you do." Sinbad carefully took the dagger from Ja'far's hand, sliding it under his belt for the time being.

"What's this noise all about?" Sinbad looked up at Hinahoho when he stalked around the corner.

"Nothing in particular," he quickly said, "Ja'far drank a little too much-"

"He made her pregnant!"

"Shush," Sinbad glared at Ja'far, "you've said enough already. Don't worry Hinahoho, I've got this."

He tried to pull Ja'far with him, but the pale man stubbornly resisted, dropping his weight to the floor instead.

"You sure about that?" Hinahoho eyed them disbelievingly. "He looks like quite a handful at the moment."

"He is quite a handful at the moment," Sinbad groaned, pulling at his advisor's arm.

"So you got a woman pregnant, eh?" Hinhoho moved forward and lifted Ja'far easily, cradling him in an arm like an infant.

"I didn't. But apparently one showed up claiming I did, and it was enough to get Ja'far to grab the wine."

"I think it takes a little more before Ja'far becomes like this," Hinahoho pointed out carefully. "He's been building up plenty frustrations."

"Really? He didn't tell me anything at all! Doesn't he trust me anymore?"

"I'm afraid you have the main role in most of his frustrations, Sin."

Sinbad gaped at the Imuchakk. "W-what?"

"You mean you didn't know?"

"He's stuuupid," Ja'far drawled, kicking his feet.

Hinahoho patted the white hair reassuringly. "Don't worry about it Ja'far. He'll get it eventually. Just don't do stuff like this anymore."

"'m not doing any stuff." Ja'far pouted, sinking deeper into Hinahoho's arm.

"You two have been getting along well without me, I see," Sinbad grumbled. Of course the two had almost as long a history with each other as with him, but he had always felt like he was the centre of the relationships of all his generals. He never thought they would talk about their deeper feelings together and leave him out.

Of course, they had all the right to do so. He was their king and leader, not their dictator. If they preferred each other's company over his... He had no right to be mad about it, did he?

"There are things we can't discuss with you Sin, don't look so offended." Hinahoho chuckled at him instead of showing any remorse.

"Like what? I want to know what goes on with you. I'm open to listen to any problem you might have, I promise!"

"Shut up!" Hinahoho shouted out in surprise when Ja'far suddenly flailed, screaming at Sinbad. Sinbad stepped back, only to watch Ja'far turn over and slither out of Hinahoho's grip similar to a snake. Hinahoho tried to grab at the pale man, but somehow the previously drowsy drunk managed to sprint away from them.

"Not again," Sinbad groaned. "Ja'far! Get back here!"

Ja'far ignored him altogether and slipped through a door onto a balcony.

"You better not be jumping off of that," Sinbad roared after his advisor, running towards the door in the hopes to catch up with him. Unfortunately, that was exactly what Ja'far had done, and by the time Sinbad bent over the railing of the balcony the pale man was nowhere in sight.

"I'll go look for him towards the kitchens," Hinahoho told him as he caught up.

"If you bump into another of the generals, tell them to help out." Sinbad sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Have anyone else stay away from him."

Hinahoho nodded firmly before turning and hurrying off the balcony.

"Ja'far, you're being a pain," Sinbad muttered. "You don't get to complain next time I'm drunk."

"But Sin..."

Sinbad swirled around, staring at Ja'far in surprise.

"What, where...?"

Ja'far raised his head tentatively, looking at Sinbad with watery eyes. What did he do to make him cry this time?

"Ja'far..."

"You never get it..."

Sinbad walked up to his advisor carefully, half happy he was calm and not running, half afraid he could still change his mind about that any second.

"What don't I ever get, Ja'far? How am I supposed to know if you don't tell me?"

Ja'far sniffed pathetically, but didn't answer. He allowed himself to be pulled against Sinbad meekly, not struggling against his king's hold.

"Won't you just please go to bed? Let's talk this over tomorrow when you feel better."

Ja'far made a muffled, somewhat affirmative sound against his chest, burying his face in Sinbad's clothes. Sinbad cringed at the sound of sniffling into his robes, dreading the way he'd look after this.

Ja'far always had a tendency to make up for all the crying he didn't do as a child while he was drunk. Usually it was cute, but this time... This time something really seemed to be bothering him, and Sinbad just couldn't enjoy the rare cute moment of his usually uptight advisor.

"Will you walk with me?"

Ja'far nodded, his fingers digging into Sinbad's robes. He had to tug on his wrists carefully to move him a little to the side, making it barely possible to shuffle back into the hallway. It was a good thing Hinahoho had managed to carry Ja'far almost all the way back to his room, so they only had to cross the hall. Who knows when Ja'far would change his mind and start running again.

He managed to tug the general all the way to the bed, but that's where he was met with the new problem. Ja'far refused to let go of his robes.

"Ja'far," he coaxed gently, trying to pry his hands away.

Ja'far shook his head, only clinging closer.

"Please Ja'far. You need to go to bed."

Ja'far whimpered quietly, before finally whispering something. "I don't want to be alone."

Sinbad froze. Was that what this was about? Was Ja'far lonely?

"Then I'll stay with you," he said firmly. He didn't know why Ja'far would feel lonely, but he wouldn't stand for such a thing. His most trusted friend deserved better than that.

Ja'far peeked up from where he had been hiding his face, eyes red and puffy and desperate. What had brought the man this far?

"Come on, let's have you lay down." He pushed his advisor down on the bed, now far more willing. "I'll stay right here until you're sound asleep. I promise."

Ja'far allowed Sinbad to ease him down on the bed without protest, and didn't even react at all to his king tugging off some of his outer clothes. Only when he tried to stand up again a hand shot out to grab him by his robes, pulling him back down.

He was startled when lips suddenly pressed against his. No matter how drunk, Ja'far kissed him tenderly and carefully. Sinbad gaped at the man when he dropped back against the pillows, eyes closing contently.

"J-Ja'far?" He cleared his throat embarrassedly at his cracking voice. But Ja'far no longer responded, finally asleep like Sinbad wanted him to, and with a uncertain smile on his face.