What even.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Nathaniel twitched in his sleep—a sign of a bad dream, probably. Yep, he was frowning now. Definitely a nightmare.

The thought brought a smile to my face as I leaned over the sleeping boy, my guise's hair tickling his skin as it brushed against him. I'd taken the form of…Jane Farrar, I believe; the woman that poor Nat was always fawning over. (1) Hey—he'd told me to keep watch at his bedside. I was going to make the most of it.

"Waking up, John?" I crooned, noticing him stir. His response was a bit of unintelligible mumbling before turning over on his side.

Great.

"Come on," I groaned, prodding his chest with a finger. He may be horrid company, but he was better than none. I had been watching him for hours. The least a magician could do when summoning a djinni to guard him while he slept was actually make sure there would be something to guard against.

I sighed, and rolled over onto my back, going back to staring at the ceiling.

I checked each of the seven planes.

And I sent out a pulse just to be sure.

Nope, nothing. I had half a mind to wake him up that instant and tell him to dismiss me. He wasn't important enough to have anything worthy of me sent after him. He might as well not waste his energies.

I glanced over…and was quite surprised to see him staring back. Or, maybe 'staring' wasn't quite the right word. 'Gazing blearily', maybe. 'Not exactly in control of all of his mental facilities'. (2)

"…Farrar?" he asked, confused, blinking a few more times than strictly necessary. I grinned, and cuddled up to his side, waiting for the sleepy haze to clear. And, all of the sudden, it did. Rather disappointingly, really.

"Bartimaeus!" he yelped—probably trying to sound angry but ending up too squeaky for that particular effect—and proceeded to make an attempt to push me away, only succeeding in forcing himself to the far end of the bed.

I rolled my eyes.

"That's no way to treat a lady, Natty."

"You're—" he coughed, finally getting control of his voice again, "—you're no lady."

"I am currently," I said, scooting closer again, "Wanna see?"

"Wha…no! Get off of my bed!"

I ignored him, proceeding to roll over and make myself comfortable on top of him again. (3) No doubt I would soon have him squirming in discomfort—it was a time-tested method. Magicians never really change, after all.

I gazed maiden-ish-ly into his eyes.

He glared back.

"…is that it?"

"Get off."

I sighed (4), and flopped down on him in an undignified fashion, my essence reverting back to the comfortable form of Ptolemy. "It's no fun if you aren't bothered by it," I mumbled, absentmindedly picking lint off of Nathaniel's nightshirt.

"I…I am bothered, that's why I'm telling you to get off, which, I've noticed—"

"No, I mean properly bothered. You're just irr…i…are you having a heart attack?"

His heart was beating unnaturally fast, which, as I'm sure you were wondering, prompted the question. Not irregularly so, though…

"…No?"

"Bummer."

He frowned at me, evidently still confused as to why I had asked that particular question, and I noticed, for the first time, the odd sort of red that his face had taken on. And, putting 2 and 2 together, I came to the conclusion that I had succeeded in actually bothering him. Though, I wasn't quite sure why.

I smirked.

Then, all of the sudden, I put 4 and 4 together, and let out a short bout of involuntary laughter.

"Oh, dear me, Nathaniel…"

He attempted a frown, but only succeeded in looking mildly panicked. (5)

"What? What did you do?"

I propped myself up, taking particular care to jab him with Ptolemy's bony elbows, and grinned devilishly at him.

"I suppose this is where I say, 'No wonder you've never had a girlfriend', but there are obviously other forces at play there."

He blinked.

"Oh, this might explain the massive, lacy cuffs, now that I think about it…"

His frown deepened, though it was notably a look of confusion rather than anger.

I raised an eyebrow.

He frowned.

I raised another eyebrow.

"Look, are you going to explain what you're talking about, or—"

"You don't know?"

"Know what? Bartimaeus…!"

I laughed. Oh, I laughed, taking advantage of the unnecessarily large bed to roll around in my glee. After all, there's nothing more annoying than watching someone cackle at a joke that you're not included in. Except, perhaps, when the joke's on you.

"Barti-…quit. Stop that. I order you to shut up!"

I gasped through a couple of unnecessary breaths, and wiped an imaginary tear from my eye.

"Ah, right, sorry…(6)"

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and got up, well aware of the glare that my master was sending my way. Though, with the horrid bedhead and the fact that he was…well…Nathaniel, it really only tickled me further.

"I'll just go…ehehe…check for, ah, assassins. Or…something."

I made my way out of the room, leaving the door slightly open behind me.

"BARTIMAEUS!"

Ah.

I poked my pretty little head back into the room.

"Tell me what you were laughing at!"

"Hmm?"

"Now."

I sighed, and stepped back in. Maybe I would have obliged if he'd said "please", but no, they've always got to go ordering you around…

"Now, see Nathaniel, this isn't something I can just tell you, it's something you have to find out yourself through years of experimentation and possibly loads of emotional agony on your part. It's part of the exciting world of being human."

"Or I could threaten to trap you in another rosemary tin for the rest of eternity."

"Oh, that old thing…"

"Well?"

"There's really no need for that—"

"Apparently there is."

"You could just try asking politely."

He seemed to consider it.

"No."

Surprise!

I sighed, and walked my way over back to his bed again, sitting myself on the side that he was occupying and putting a hand on his back, friendly-like.

"Well, Nathaniel, there comes a time in some little boys' lives where they discover that they're not quite like all of the other boys out there. Evidently, thus far you've either been too stupid or, more likely, too soul-wrenchingly lonely in your mindless pursuit of government power to figure this out—"

"If you don't get on with it I'm going to entrap you anyways!"

"Ah, well, in that case…"

I grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him close, and cut short his scream of panic by placing on him the biggest, sloppiest kiss I could possibly muster. Then I took tactical advantage of his shock by running to the other side of the room.

"What…what the hell, Bartimaeus?"

"You," I started, grinning from my newfound perch on the windowsill, "are queer, Natty."

"…what?"

"You're a poofter. A fairy. Horribly ignorant of the fairer sex and for all intents and purposes hoping to stay that way. In short," I leaned forward, "you like other boys."

He blinked a couple times, then all at once realized what I was trying to insinuate.

"What?"

"Hey, it's not my fault you started to get all hot and bothered when I switched to this form—"

"I didn't!"

"—which, I don't know if you know, is a twelve-year-old boy, by the way, so a little creepy on top of the whole, you know, homosexual thing."

He grit his teeth, the color rising to his face again, and attempted to get out of bed and come after me. He succeeded brilliantly in tripping over the sheets and falling flat on his face. (7)

"Oh, and graceful, too. Is there no end to your majesty?"

I got up, and went over to survey the damage. Nothing broken, at least. Shame. I offered him a hand up, and surprisingly, he took it. Not surprisingly, he stood up and immediately punched me.

"Hey—ow...!(8) Was that really necessary?"

"Yes."

Well, maybe it was. He seemed to be cheering up already.

"Look, I didn't mean to insult you. I just thought it was hilarious that you hadn't figured it out yet."

"Figured what out?"

"Oh, for…were you even listening?"

"Yes. And you're wrong."

I rolled my eyes. A multiple-thousand-year-old djinni departs his majestic wisdom upon you and helps you figure out your personal problems, and you just say "you're wrong"?

Typical.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Have you actually thought about it?"

He paused. And that's when I knew that I'd gotten him—he definitely wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it, whether he believed at first or not. And I was sure that he'd agree with me eventually. You don't spend multiple millennia in the presence of humans without getting good at these sort of things. (9)

"Ah, listen, why don't you just go back to sleep."

"Wha—"

"Go on, little boys need their rest, you know."

"I'm no—"

"Okay, okay, 'important' government people. Either way."

He eyed me suspiciously, obviously picking up on my tone. But, to my surprise, he didn't rise to the provocation, instead mumbling something about 'being tired anyways' and settling himself back down in the bed, facing pointedly away from me. So I made a big show of tucking him in, even getting in a little kiss on the forehead before he squawked and sent me to the window to keep watch. So I went, grinning.

It wasn't long before he fell asleep again, and left me to my thoughts.

Should I have really told him that? As true as it was, it really wasn't the most ideal way to find out. And, really, the kid had enough on his plate.

I glanced over at the sleeping Nathaniel, and saw that he was frowning again. No peace, even in sleep.

I felt sorry for him, for a moment.

But only for a moment.

1 Not advisable in the slightest. She was fairly pretty, for English standards, and unless she'd taken some strange liking to dishrags, my master didn't stand a chance.

2 What few there were to be in control of, that is.

3 Much more difficult that it sounds. It was something like lying on a pile of sticks.

4 Delicately.

5 Rightfully so. Your servant suddenly breaking out in a fit of hysterics never means anything good.

6 I wasn't.

7 The sheets may have had a little help.

8 This exclamation was purely for his benefit. It was more comparable to getting pinched by an imp. Or possibly a fly.

9 Well, assuming you had some intelligence to speak of. I knew a few djinn that still couldn't tell the boys and girls apart.