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How to Be a Genie: 12 Easy Steps Ch. 01

By: altar_ashes



Chapter One: No Ordinary Girl

There were two things that Cypress Madison had never been. She had never been anything more than ordinary. She was not talented, or graceful, or even very smart, although most people assumed she was a genius of some sort. No, she had no ability for anything like sports or the arts. And her GPA was usually just enough to keep her from being flunked out of college. There was simply nothing special about her, and she was used to it. Content with it, in fact; ordinary people like her had ordinary worries. It was not something she should have been upset over.

Cypress had also never been pretty. Ask anyone, and they would tell you the same. She was tall and gawky, with frizzy mouse brown hair that stuck up all over the place. Her vision was poor, and she wore thick glasses. Only a few months ago she'd gotten her braces taken off. Everything about her screamed 'dork', as it had all her life. But again, it was not something she should have been upset over. That was what her father had always told her.

Which just goes to show you, Cypress thought, as she shouldered her book bag, parents haven't a clue what they're talking about. They just pretend they do. She braced herself as she started out of the classroom; there was, of course, the usual jostling to contend with. People tended to push past her as if she weren't there. Some of them did it on purpose, she knew. Cypress had realized, that first day of college, two semesters ago, that what people kept telling her was completely false; college was not any better than high school. Just as high school really hadn't been any better than middle school. The only years of school that didn't suck, in her opinion, were the preschool years.

School was bound to be a lousy endeavor for any glasses-wearing, frizzy-haired girl whose mother had named her Cypress and then run off, leaving her with just her father, anyway. This was not really a big surprise. She simply had thought that by this point in her life, people might have matured a little. A smidgen, even. But no, there they were, sticking out their feet as she walked past, trying to trip her. Naturally, Cypress thought, as she stepped over an all too familiar leg, making sure to trod on her would-be tripper's other foot as she passed, I get stuck in community college with the goons I went to school with all my life.

"Bitch!" The usual cry when she stepped on any of their feet—she wasn't exactly dainty-footed herself.

Cypress smiled. "Hello, Jake," she said, without even looking over her shoulder. "How are you this morning?"

"I was better before I had to see your ugly face," Jake shot back angrily.

"I can empathize," Cypress said calmly.

She could handle dopes like Jake. Perhaps she wasn't Ms. 4.0 GPA, but she was still about a thousand times smarter than him. He wouldn't know a real insult of it jumped up and bit him on the ass. Jake was your typical football-playing, Backstreet Boy clone sort of guy. He was a pain in the ass, but Cypress could always console herself with the fact that he was one test away from flunking out completely. 

She could also handle people like Jake's girlfriend, who happened to step out in front of her at just that moment. Kelly and Jake were so painfully perfect for one another, because they were the two biggest clichés in the known universe. She was the petite, busty blonde cheerleader whose hair was never out of place. Who says the cliché is just a literary device, Cypress thought, coming to a halt. No, Kelly and Jake were living proof that art mimicked life. Or something to that effect.

"Watch where you're going, Bigfoot," Kelly said, tilting her head to the side in that annoyingly snotty way she had. "You might hurt someone with those gargantuan feet of yours."

"God forbid," Cypress said. She rolled her eyes. "You mind? I've got this little thing called class...you know, that place where you go to become smarter."

Kelly smiled. "Oh, don't let me stop you," she said, with saccharine sweetness. "You might as well have brains, since you'll never have beauty."

"I know the desire to learn is a hard concept to grasp," Cypress said, as she pushed her way past, "what with your IQ equaling your bust measurements and all."

"It's a good thing yours doesn't," Kelly called after her, "or you'd be dead!"

I would only be so lucky, Cypress thought. Okay, to be fair, most people had progressed beyond the pubescent stage that Kelly and Jake seemed to be permanently stuck in. Well, some people, at the least. And all of those people were much too busy with their own lives to notice a little bit of nothing like Cypress. Or in her case, a very tall bit of nothing. If she was an inch under five foot ten, she'd be lucky. Yet for some reason, even though she should stick out like a sore thumb, the only people who ever seemed to notice her were the ones from her childhood who still felt the desire to torment her.

Which just proves that old adage, Cypress thought, 'life sucks and then you die'. She made her way through the crowd in the hallway towards the stairs. There was simply no way she was going to squeeze herself into that damned elevator. From what she could tell, they hadn't changed the elevators in this place since they'd built it. The only thing that moves slower than those elevators is a snail, she thought, and snails are useful, at least, cause they—oof!

Cypress stumbled backward and—naturally, because her life didn't suck enough already—fell. She lost her grip on her bag, which skittered across the floor, spilling notebooks and pens everywhere. Really, God, this isn't necessary, she thought, as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. You've already proven to me that I am the biggest loser in the history of mankind. I may not be a genius, but I'm not slow, either. If she hadn't been convinced before that God was just a sadistic prick, much like a kid with a magnifying glass and a defenseless ant, she was now.

"Hey, are you all right?"

No, Cypress thought, looking up very, very slowly. No, I'm not all right. I'll never be all right. Never. For she soon found herself staring up into the gray-green eyes of Avery Bachman, who was in her Philosophy class. Except that he undoubtedly didn't know he was in her Philosophy class, because it was unlikely that he even knew she existed. Except he does now, you dork, Cypress thought, seeing as how you just, oh, ran right into him! And because she wasn't embarrassed enough as it was, she found herself unable to look away.

But really, who could blame her? Because aside from those gorgeous eyes—which were framed by the kind of long lashes that made girls melt—he was absolutely dreamy. A juvenile description, perhaps, but wholly accurate, what with his somewhat curly, reddish brown hair and sort of cat-like features. He had olive-toned skinned and Cypress suspected that, if you gave him some antlers and put him in a loin cloth, he could easily pass as some kind of Celtic spirit or god. Even with the thin, wire-framed glasses he wore in order to see the blackboard. He looks like a god in his glasses, she thought, and I look like a dweeb in mine. Yeah, that is so fair.

"Um...excuse me?" Avery said, his eyebrows raising. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I uh...yeah," Cypress stammered. Oh, I'm great, she thought sarcastically. Not to mention witty and articulate. "Um...thanks..."

"Here." Avery straightened and held a hand down to her.

"Don't you know," Cypress said, as she placed her hand in his, "that I've been outted as Feminazi? Sure you want to help me?"

Avery grinned. "I'll risk it," he said, as he pulled her easily to her feet. "Besides, my best friend is a Feminazi."

Cypress turned away quickly and began to gather up all the things that had spilled out of her bag. She had to turn away, because he cheeks were turning red. Okay, what is going on here? she wondered. A totally gorgeous guy is talking to me and goddamnit, Cypress, stop acting like you're fourteen! Easier said—er, thought—than done. She noticed that her hands were trembling as she reached for one of her notebooks. Because Avery was helping her gather her things, and he was standing close enough that he bumped against her every time he moved. Cypress just didn't know how to be around guys—or anyone, for that matter—without freaking out.

"So um...why is she friends with you, then?" she asked, because the silence was getting awkward. "The Feminazi, I mean."

"Well, we met in middle school," Avery explained. "I was...well, a skinny dork. Not exactly a threat to the female of the species, if you catch my meaning."

"All too well," Cypress assured him.

She couldn't imagine him ever being a dork, but she supposed it took all kinds. Maybe then he might have some sympathy for other dorks, she thought, as she stuffed her notebooks back into her bag. He could even, you know, like other dorks. Except there was no way he could have ever been as big a loser as she was. And besides which, he was Avery Bachman. The guy Kelly occasionally talked about leaving Jake for. Cypress' only hope was that someone like Avery was too smart to be interested in a girl like Kelly. Ha! she thought. Maybe when hell freezes over.

"Here," Avery said, handing over her Philosophy book. "I think that's all of it."

"Thanks again," Cypress said quietly. She looked down at the floor. "I um...I'm very..." She stopped, her eyes widening. "Late! I'm late!"

Well, of course she was late. She'd just spent ten minutes in the hallway talking to a Celtic forest spirit. Professor Davidson is never going to let me hear the end of this, Cypress thought, as she sprinted down the hallway, regretfully ignoring Avery's voice calling out her name. He is such a prick! She skidded around the corner and into the stairwell, which was completely empty. Securing her bag on her shoulder, she made her way down the stairs as fast as she could go.

*****

Not since sixth grade, Avery thought, has a girl run away from me that fast. Ah, well. He doubted that it had been meant as an insult. Still, he'd actually been enjoying his conversation with her. He hadn't thought that Cypress Madison spoke much to anyone. She was in his Philosophy class and she was always so quiet. The only reason he'd noticed her, from that very first day, was because it was pretty hard not to notice a five foot ten girl named Cypress. Also, sometimes she spoke in class, when called upon. Avery had always thought that she had a nice voice.

And a great sense of humor, actually, he thought, as he turned to head to his own class. Not like Vivian...hey... There was a notebook on the floor, half hidden beneath the lockers sticking out from the wall. Avery hadn't seen it before. Damn, he thought, and we don't have Philosophy again until Friday. He picked it up and flipped it open, figuring that it must have been notes. Except it wasn't a notebook at all. It was a sketchpad. She's an artist? he wondered, as he flipped through it. No...not quite... They were clothes. Every sketch was a design.

He would never have taken her for a fashion designer. Any girl who wore combat boots, Army issue pants with the knees torn out, and a Pantera t-shirt with a long-sleeved thermal shirt beneath it, didn't exactly come off as the fashion designer type. Takes all kinds, I guess, Avery thought, as he reached back and put the sketchbook in his backpack. He'd have to find the time to get it back to her. Obviously it was something of a private hobby, and he knew how he'd felt, if some jerk didn't give him back something of his that was important. He liked to avoid being a jerk when possible.

"Avery!"

And when not possible, he thought, turning slowly, excuses help. Like being late for class. Except that he currently wasn't, so when his fiancée Vivian came bearing down on him, he didn't have any way to get out of it. Technically, their engagement wasn't official yet—at least, not as he saw it. Avery seemed to be the only one whose opinion on the matter hadn't been asked. But his parents, and Vivian's, were determined that they marry. Unfortunately, Vivian was also quite determined, too. In everything she did. It took a lot of effort to peel her off.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked, tossing back her hair in that very annoying way she had. "I was waiting for you to come get me!"

"You don't need my help to leave your classroom," Avery told her.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Vivian said, sticking out her lower lip in a pout. "Come on, let's go down to the cafeteria."

Sheila keeps telling me I'm pussy whipped, Avery thought, as Vivian tugged him along. Except that no amount of sex with Vivian would make me want to actually marry her. The problem was more that his parents and hers—and her, too—didn't seem to accept "I just don't want to" as a good reason for him to not marry her. And while Avery was working on convincing them, he didn't want to be an ass about it. He'd known Vivian since childhood, after all. It's just that we're not right for each other, he thought, letting her drag him along. I doubt she would ever make jokes about being a Feminazi.

*****

The apartment building in which she lived might be dilapidated, but it was home. Cypress found it comforting to walk into the living room and find her father slouched on the couch, watching T.V. and munching on Chee-tos. He grumbled a greeting as she bent over and kissed him on the cheek; that was just his way. Humming off tune to herself, she went into the kitchen to prepare a snack. That was her afternoon ritual: come home, kiss her father hello, get a snack, and go upstairs to do her schoolwork. Not terribly exciting, but it was what she knew.

A small chirruping sound greeted her as she walked into the kitchen. It was followed by a loud thump as her cat jumped off the kitchen table. He was a big, black Maine coon and he weighed a good twenty-five pounds or so. Grinning, Cypress swooped him up into her arms.

"Hello, Phil," she said, giving him a gentle squeezing before setting him down.

Most people didn't know it, but Phil was short for 'Where's the Cream Filling?'. Because he was black all over, except for one small spot on his tummy, like a Hostess cupcake. That had been Cypress' favorite snack when she'd gotten the cat—still was, in fact. That was what she grabbed now, before heading up to her room. The one blessing she had in her life was a fast metabolism, allowing her to eat pretty much anything. Although admittedly, she wasn't sure it was exactly a blessing to be as tall and thin as a tree.

Cypress' room was the one place in the world where she could be completely alone, if she wanted to. Which was why she was not happy—and more than a little surprised—to find someone sitting on her bed, waiting for her. She had to swallow hard, almost choking on a bite of cupcake in an effort not to scream. Never mind the fact that she didn't have any friends. Never mind the fact that her father hadn't mentioned that there was a visitor. Never mind, even, that this girl wasn't someone she recognized.

It was because she was dressed like a...like a belly dancer, or something. In those kind of see-through puffy pants, with a bra top, and lots of dangling, jingling things attached to a scarf around her waist. She had long, blonde hair that was as smooth as silk, and up in a high ponytail. Bands of gold circled her upper arms, and she was wearing—believe it or not—slippers with bells dangling from the curved toes. She looks like something out of a bad Disney rendition of a classic Arabian tale, Cypress decided.

"Who the hell are you?" she demanded out loud.

"Aw," the girl pouted. "Is that any way to greet your sister?"

Cypress took a moment to shut the door—this was not something she wanted her father to hear—then turned to frown at the stranger. "I don't have a sister," she said.

"That isn't very nice," the girl said, rising from the bed. "Oh, I know you've never actually met me, but I am your sister. I'm Ephasia."

I don't remember inhaling any gas fumes on the way home, Cypress thought, backing up against the door. God, this is weird. Well, it wasn't impossible for her to have a sister. After all, her mother had just up and left almost right after she was born. But a sister named Ephasia? Who went around dressed as some kind of belly dancer or gypsy or something? Cypress just couldn't see how she would have failed to find out about this sooner. Like, oh say, when she'd walked in the door and her father told her that she had a whacko sister named Ephasia waiting for her in her room! Because there was no way, even in his somewhat oblivious state, that her father would have missed this.

"Don't be afraid, Cypress," Ephasia said, taking a step forward and holding out a hand. "I know this is a little weird...but trust me. I've been wanting to meet you for so long."

"How did you know about me if I didn't know about you?" Cypress asked, frowning warily.

"It's a long story," Ephasia replied, taking another step forward. "Come with me, and I'll tell you."

Cypress would have asked where exactly Ephasia intended to go. Really, she would have. But this strange girl who was claiming to be her sister got a hand on her arm, and that was it. Any thought she had of asking anything was gone as the room dissolved around them. She could hear Phil yowling outside the door, but there was nothing she could do. Cypress thought she saw a glimpse of maliciousness is Ephasia's eyes, but then the world went strangely dark, and she saw nothing. 

How to Be a Genie: 12 Easy Steps Ch. 02



Chapter Two: Step One: Never Trust Another Genie!

To say that the old apartment building was dilapidated would have been diplomatic. It had to be a serious fire hazard, with the roof sagging like that, and most of the paint coming off in dangling strips. But it was the correct address, he was positive of that. There was only one Georgia Street in town and this was it. Well, I wanted to know where she lived, Avery thought, as he made his way up the creaking steps and onto the apartment's front porch. It's really my own fault. 

It was Friday evening. When Cypress hadn't shown up for class that day, Avery had taken it upon himself to find out where she lived, so he could return her sketchpad. What if, he'd thought to himself, she was sick in bed or something? And bored out of her mind, because she didn't have her sketchpad. Okay, so he knew it was more than likely that she had another one at home. Any excuse to get out of seeing Vivian was a good one, in Avery's opinion. And besides, he thought, as he rang the buzzer for her apartment, I don't want her to be worried about where her sketchbook is.

He was buzzed up immediately. The inside of the building was just as bad as the outside; the carpet smelled of rot and mildew, the wallpaper was coming off in strips, and the banister on the staircase wobbled beneath his hand. When I decided to take a trip today, Avery thought, wiping his hand off on his jeans, I didn't realize it was going to be a guilt trip. Not that his family had ever been rich, really, but they were well off enough. Places like this always made him feel guilty. 

The door swung open before he ever really got a chance to knock. He found himself looking down at a plump, balding man, who—judging based on his scowl—was not at all happy to see Avery. In fact, none of the occupants of the apartment were happy to see him—he was also greeted at the door by a monster of a cat that hissed at him in annoyance. I hope the whole family isn't like this, he thought, taking a step back. Cypress really seemed like a nice girl. Avery held up the sketchbook for the man to see.

"Um...I'm looking for Cypress," he explained. "See, she dropped this the other day and uh...well, I wanted to return it to her. Except she wasn't in class today and I..."

The man continued to glare. "She isn't here," he growled.

"Oh," Avery said, taken aback. This must have been her father...right? "Well, would you give this to her? When she gets back, I mean?"

Of all the things Avery was expecting, Cypress' father practically breaking down crying on his shoulder wasn't one of them. The man swayed, sagging against the doorjamb. Even the cat, which had been so hostile before, sat down in the doorway and looked up, mewing plaintively. Okay, Avery thought, what the hell is going on here? Did he somehow get the wrong apartment? This crazy guy couldn't really be Cypress' father, could he?

"Um...sir..." Avery said hesitantly.

"She's missing," Cypress' father explained, in a hoarse, choked voice. "Since Wednesday...she just...just disappeared!"

"Oh," Avery said quietly. "I...I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to...you don't know where she is? Not even a clue?"

He just shook his head. Feeling uncomfortable, Avery handed over the sketchbook, then stepped away from the apartment. He stared at the door for a long time after it had closed. She's missing, he thought, frowning. Since Wednesday... Which was the last time he'd seen her, the day he'd run into her—literally. He couldn't help wondering if she'd maybe run away. Having to live in an apartment like that, with only her grouchy dad and her cat...Except it seemed to Avery like she wasn't the type of girl who would leave her cat behind. Or her dad, really, but definitely not her cat.

Well, there isn't anything I can do, he thought, as he started back down the stairs. I feel bad, yeah, but... Well, maybe he could do a little asking around, see if anyone who knew her might know where she was. Perhaps she'd gotten frustrated and taken off for a few days. Maybe she's just as psycho as the rest of her family seems to be, Avery thought. Maybe...ugh, this sucks. He stepped outside into air that, while not exactly fresh, was a heck of a lot less musty. It was true that he didn't owe Cypress or her family anything. It was also true that they might all be crazy and she'd just simply run off. But he felt like he should do something, at least.

*****

Cypress knew instinctively that she was not at home, or any other place she knew. She could tell, because never before had she woken up in such a comfortable bed. Also, the sounds around her were foreign; the soft rustling, as if of silk, the whisper of murmuring voices, the faint music drifting in from a room nearby. She turned over slowly, feeling silken sheets slide over her bare skin. Whoa, wait a minute, Cypress thought, coming fully awake in an instant. Where the hell are my clothes?

She sat up, clutching one of those sheets to herself—not that it did her much good, as it turned out, the sheets were sheer. Cypress folded herself up, trying to cover herself, and took a look around the room. Although it was a place most extraordinary, with its gauzy drapes hanging everywhere and lamps made of faintly glowing crystal, it was hard to take her eyes off the woman sitting on a divan not too far away. Ephasia, she remembered suddenly. What on earth...? Except Cypress was beginning to doubt that this place was anywhere on the earth she knew.

Ephasia was still dressed in that Disney-ized harem outfit. Whoever she'd been talking to a moment before was gone, but Cypress imagined they'd be back. What is going on, anyway? Cypress wondered, watching Ephasia rise from the divan. There was no doubt in her mind that this woman, who had claimed to be her sister, was not your average human being. While she liked to consider herself the skeptical sort, it was pretty hard to deny that something otherworldly was going on when one was in the middle of said situation. But what precisely was happening—not to mention why—remained a mystery.

"So glad to see you awake," Ephasia gushed. "I was worried! I forgot that your human blood would make you sensitive to the crossover."

Cypress blinked. "My what would make me what to the which?"

Ephasia laughed, a soft, musical sound. "Oh, Cy, you're so cute," she said, smiling. "I've always wanted a baby sister. I wish mother had told me sooner."

"Mother?" Cypress sat up straighter, forgetting that she was naked. "You mean...my mother?"

Ephasia let out that musical laughter again in answer. She snapped her fingers noisily, and suddenly an entourage of young women, dressed somewhat similar to her but less Disney-ized, came pouring into the room. Cypress found herself being pulled from the bed and bundled into a robe which, even though it was also silk, was fortunately not see-through. They all look so perfect, she thought, eyeing them. Not a single hair out of place. And that was a lot of hair to not be out of place. Most of them were blondes, one was a red head, and two were brunettes, but all of them had hair down past their waists. Cypress suspected hers might be that long by now, if it didn't stick out the way it did.

"Our mother," Ephasia said, when Cypress had finally found her way free of the seraglio. "She's my mother too, Cy."

"I...I don't understand..." Cypress stammered. "Who are you? And who is my mother? Where is she? Can I see her?"

"Calm down," Ephasia said, putting an arm around Cypress' shoulders. "Ease up, sis. You'll meet her soon enough, I promise. She just wanted me to be the one to talk to you first...guess she figured, what with us being close to the same age and all, that it would be easier, coming from me."

"What would be easier?" Cypress asked, puzzled.

"Oh, that you're a half-genie," Ephasia answered, as if it were no big deal. "I mean, duh, mom is a genie, after all."

Cypress' first thought was something along the lines of 'yeah fucking right', but she didn't get much chance to express that. Ephasia was steering her down a long, colonnaded corridor, past a number of rooms shielded only by thin, sheer curtains. Which, as it turned out, did not keep her from seeing what was going on in some of those rooms. Oh my god, Cypress thought, forcing her gaze straight ahead. As if some harem girl telling me I'm half-genie isn't shocking enough! There was no way she was half-genie. These people apparently had no sense of modesty.

As they were walking down the corridor, they did pass other people. Occasionally one of Ephasia's little seraglio—as Cypress had taken to thinking of them as—broke off and disappeared into one of the many rooms. She was beginning to think that this place was one long, endless corridor, when they finally turned a corner—and nearly walked into one of the most amazing looking guys she'd ever seen. If Avery Bachman was a Celtic forest spirit, this guy was a Greek god. Like Ephasia he had long, golden hair, although his seemed to want to curl—a lot like hers did, except that hers usually succeeded.

"Ephasia!" he said sharply, his eyes flitting over Cypress. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, don't worry, bro," Ephasia cooed, pulling Cypress up against her side. "I'm just showing our sister here the world she belongs in."

He frowned. "Ephasia, I don't think—"

"Relax!" Ephasia interrupted. "Cy, hun, this is Solomon. He's my...well, I guess I should say he's our brother. And he is such a worrywart!" She lifted her free hand and snapped her fingers again. "Girls! Show my brother how to relax!"

Cypress was reminded strongly of a swarm of bees, as Ephasia's seraglio descended upon Solomon. Or maybe fire ants, she thought, when you knock over their hill and they all come rushing out in a panic. Except the one panicking in this case was Solomon. Cypress could hear him trying to fend off the seraglio as Ephasia began leading her down the next corridor. I have a sister and a brother I never knew about, she thought, and both of them are genies? Nuh uh, too weird. I am totally having strangeness overload here.

She tried to look back over her shoulder and see if Solomon was all right, but Ephasia was insistent. Finally Cypress found herself pretty much forced into another room, this one with—surprise, surprise—an actual door. There was a bathtub, a brass, claw-footed monstrosity, and one of those old-fashioned changing screens, plus a huge, antique looking armoire. It would have all been very normal, if it weren't for the presences of those sheer hangings and the crystal lamps. Oh, yeah, and the whole tub filling up with water as soon as they entered the room thing. That, Cypress thought, definitely did not fall under the category of normal.

"Climb in, Cy," Ephasia said, indicating the bathtub. "You could use to be cleaned up."

"Um...I don't think so..." Cypress said hesitantly. "I mean, not that I'm not um...well, honestly, I'm totally weirded out by this...but...my dad..."

Ephasia smiled brightly. "Oh, don't worry!" she gushed, giving Cypress a push towards the tub. "Time passes differently here than it does where you come from."

There was something about Ephasia's smile that made her uneasy, but the bath did look inviting. And she felt pretty icky. Even if time did pass differently here, she didn't know how much time had passed here. For all she knew, it could have been days—of this world's time—since she last showered. So despite her misgivings, not to mention the lack of privacy, Cypress found herself climbing into the tub. And it felt as inviting as it looked, too. There was something in the water that made it feel like silk against her skin.

"So, where is here, anyway?" Cypress asked. After all, there was no use freaking out. If this did turn out to be some weird dream or hallucination, she'd wake up eventually—she hoped.

"Iifa," Ephasia replied, as she walked over to the armoire. "Land of our people. Genies, or djinn, which is generally what most of us prefer to be called. Especially Solomon. He hates the word genie."

"I'll just bet he does," Cypress muttered, leaning back in the tub. "So, why did you bring me here, anyway? I mean, you don't really expect me to believe that I'm a genie, do you?"

"Half genie," Ephasia corrected absently. "Why don't you believe it?"

"Um, have you looked at me lately?" Cypress asked, opening her eyes more fully to stare at Ephasia, who was pulling what looked like fluttery bits of silk from the armoire. "You and Solomon...I can believe you're genies. Skeptical I might be, but blind I ain't. But me? Genies do not have frizzy hair and glasses!"

"That can be remedied easily enough," Ephasia said. "Come on out, Cy. I'll show you what I mean."

Cypress would have liked to have stayed in the bathtub a little longer, but she decided to oblige her newfound sister. Who knew what Ephasia was capable of when she was pissed off? She was a genie, after all. I can definitely believe that she's a genie, Cypress thought, as she toweled herself off, occasionally throwing paranoid glances in the direction of the door. But I am so not genie material. 

Ephasia must have thought differently, judging based on the outfit she handed over. Cypress wouldn't have even put it on, but she figured it would prove once and for all that there was no way she could be a genie. As far as she was concerned—when she looked in the mirror—she was right. The halter style top, this one dark blue silk with a silvery fringe lining the hem and silver beads draping off her shoulders, did not work for Cypress like Ephasia's did for her. And did she get the cool harem pants? No, she got this sort of loin cloth, except that it was two very long panels of blue silk, rather than short bits of animal hide like Tarzan. 

"See," Cypress said, pointing to her reflecting in the mirror. "You aren't going to make me walk around in this little clothing, are you? I mean, I make a laughable enough genie as it is."

Ephasia rolled her eyes. "Here," she said, handing over two long, wide scarves of silver silk. "This will help." And she showed Cypress how to drape them over the sides of her loin cloth, so it actually looked like something resembling a full skirt.

"Still don't look like a genie," Cypress said. "Look, can I just see my mother and then go home? All of this is seriously giving me a headache."

She turned to Ephasia. Her sister was holding golden bands, like the ones around her own upper arms, except these ones were etched in silver with runes. Cypress wasn't sure why, but they made her very nervous. She tried to pull away when Ephasia went to put them on, but for a petite little blonde, the woman had a lot of strength. I don't like this anymore, Cypress thought, as the bands closed around her upper arms. I want to go home! It had been well enough to joke around about this whole genie thing, but now she was starting to get scared.

"There," Ephasia said, turning her forcefully towards the mirror. "Now you are most definitely a genie."

Whoa, Cypress thought, her fear momentarily forgotten. That's me? She wasn't sure what exactly Ephasia had done, but it had worked. Oh, so she wasn't some petite little beauty queen or anything; she never would be. But her hair had smoothed out, so that it was indeed as long as Ephasia's, and looked like a curtain of light brown silk, rather than a big brown bush. And her complexion had cleared, too. Still not genie material, Cypress thought, a smile coming to her lips, but I think I could believe the whole half-genie thing.

"You're going to want to look this over," Ephasia said, shoving a scroll into Cypress' hands. Her sister was no longer being so nice. "This will tell you everything you need to know about being a genie."

"Are these rules or something?" Cypress asked, opening the scroll.

"Rules, steps, call them what you wish." Ephasia shrugged. "You're going to need them, sis, big time. Take a look at step number one."

Rule, step, guideline; Ephasia was right, it really didn't matter. Because first on the list were the words 'Never trust another genie!' in big, bold letters. Looking up from the scroll, Cypress saw the lamp Ephasia was holding. Or, at least, that was the only word she could think of. Actually, it looked a bit more like a vase, really, exotic blue blown glass with gold trim. Gold trim that was, she noted, etched in silver runes. I've had some pretty bad days before, Cypress thought, taking an involuntarily step back, but this one wins the prize. Even in her rising fear she was a wise ass. Yeah, some genie she made.

"Isn't the lamp thing a little cliché?" Cypress asked, hoping to buy herself some time to...well, she didn't really know. "And the whole gold bands thing, too?"

"Oh, these?" Ephasia touched one of the gold arm bands she was wearing, and it opened, falling away. "Mine are just for show. Yours, however, are the real thing. And this," she held up the lamp, "comes with those. Sure, it's a bit old fashioned. We don't usually do the whole 'curse the genie with eternal servitude' thing anymore. But I think it's just perfect for you."

"Why?" Cypress demanded, her panic and confusion starting to get to her. "I've never done anything to you! I don't even know you!"

Ephasia didn't answer. She just smiled triumphantly. Cypress had only a moment to reflect on how stupid she'd been, just trusting this woman, and how absurd this whole situation was. Only a moment, and then things started to get really weird. The room swayed, twisted, and shrank, as if she were drunk or drugged. There was no pain, only a fleeting sense of some intangible thing binding her tightly. And then, for the second time in what was—to her anyway—only a day, the whole world went black.



How to Be a Genie: 12 Easy Steps Ch. 03



Chapter Three: Even Genies Get it Wrong Sometimes

There was a hierarchy among the society of the djinni. Those at the top, like Ephasia, had it easy in life. How could your life not be easy, when you were the daughter of the djinn who ruled Iifa, and the sister of the future ruler? And there were those who fell somewhere in the middle, like the many young female djinni who attended Ephasia. They were lucky enough to have a cushiony spot in life. Tending to the daughter of Iifa's ruler was a job that came with many perks. Like access to the halls of the palace at Mashaal.

Then there was those like him, those who wallowed on the bottom rung of the social ladder, just trying to get by. Savion was one of those unfortunate souls who had about enough power to toy with five-year-old mortals once in awhile, which made him pretty much worthless to the monarchy of Iifa. So when he'd been approached by Ephasia, who had a very special task for him, something only he could possibly do, how could he refuse? Only an idiot would refuse Ephasia. There were many things Savion was not, and he liked to thing that 'idiot' was at the very top of the list.

"Isn't this a Vessel?" Savion asked, carefully studying the blue and gold vase Ephasia had handed him. "I thought these weren't used anymore."

"Not usually," Ephasia told him. She tilted her head slightly and smiled at him. "But you see, sometimes there are djinni even my father is forced to punish and this…well, this was a very severe situation."

She really looked wonderful today. Ephasia was dressed in robes of golden silk, with silver flower patterns along the sleeves and down the skirts. Her hair was loose beneath a netting of gold and moonstones. A single, vibrantly gold lily was tucked behind her ear. Even if Savion hadn't been in love with her since the first time he'd seen her, he would have been then. She had the biggest, loveliest blue eyes he'd ever seen. And there were a lot of beautiful women among the djinni, but none were as breath-taking as Ephasia was.

"But…" Savion frowned. "Didn't you father abolish the law allowing djinni to be punished in such a manner?"

"No, no, no!" Ephasia shook her head. "No, silly, he changed the law. So that it could only be used to punish those who really deserve it."

Well, he supposed that that made sense. Besides, why would she lie to him? She had such a pretty, sincere smile. I guess I could do this, Savion decided, looking down at the Vessel again. It's not that hard. They were already in the human world, sitting atop the roof of a fancy, schmancy apartment building, watching cars zoom by below. He'd never really gotten a chance to look at cars, but now that he did, they were kind of cool. Ephasia thought that humans and everything to do with them was worthless, but Savion wasn't so sure about that. He thought some of their inventions were quite clever; like the bacon double cheeseburger, for instance.

"Please, Savion," Ephasia said, turning her bright blue eyes on him. "It's very important. My father trusted me to find the right person for the job, and I just knew you'd be up to it."

Savion straightened up. "Of course I can do it!" he said. "Which door was it again?"

Ephasia sighed. "The third from the left!" she reminded him sharply. "Savion, you absolutely have to do this right. If you don't…"

"I will," Savion assured her. "I know what I'm doing. Don't worry about a thing."

She didn't look terribly reassured. Clutching the Vessel, Savion approached the edge of the roof and looked down. He hated floating—mostly because he wasn't good at it—but he did it anyway. At least Ephasia had opened the window for him. As he touched down inside the building, he took a quick look around. Yep, it was as plush on the inside as it had been on the outside. The carpeting was soft, green and gray paisley, and it matched the trimming on the wallpaper. The doors were all hard mahogany, highly polished, with shiny brass numbers on them. 

Why couldn't she have just given me an apartment number? Savion wondered, frowning. Ah, well, it was the third door from the…the…oh crap. He'd forgotten. How had he forgotten? She'd just told him. They were just talking and she's said…she'd said… I think she said… he thought, frowning, something about…right! Third from the right! That had to be it. Savion headed down the hallway and stopped in front of apartment number twenty-seven. He laid his hand on the door and focused for a moment; it was hard work, but a moment later he was holding the Vessel in a box, addressed to the occupant of the apartment.

"All right, Mr…" Savion paused and looked down at the package. "Mr. Avery Bachman. Enjoy your genie."

*****

It was great to be home. Avery made his way up the stairs, jangling his keys idly as he climbed. It had been another long day. Not to mention disappointing. Although he'd asked around, very few people knew anything about Cypress. Except for that ditzy blonde, he thought, as he dragged himself up the last step. Not that her opinion seemed to be worth all that much. Avery had been rather unimpressed by the blonde—Kelly, her name was—and the way she'd flirted. He knew she had a boyfriend already. Even though he didn't consider himself and Viv officially an item, he still didn't go around flirting shamelessly with everything on two legs. That sort of behavior disgusted him.

I guess I'll try again tomorrow, Avery thought, if I get the chance to…huh? What the…? Because he'd nearly tripped over a decent sized box sitting in front of his door. He knew he hadn't ordered anything, so he figured it must have been from his parents or something. Except that when he picked it up, he saw that there was no return address on it. Anywhere. Life just gets stranger and stranger these days, Avery thought, holding the box under his arm as he unlocked the door to his apartment. Maybe mom forgot to put the return address on it. She can be a little flighty sometimes. He set the box down on the coffee table and went into the kitchen.

Avery grabbed a knife from the block on the counter and a soda from the fridge, then went back into the living room. He settled on the couch and cut open the box. Whatever he'd been expecting to find inside, a vase, made of clear blue glass with gold trimming, was not it. Must have been mom, he thought, setting the knife down and lifting the vase out of the box. Ugh, I hope this isn't supposed to be some sort of engagement gift or anything. Actually, it was a very pretty vase, but Avery wasn't really too keen on the idea of engagement gifts. Now, what does this say? he wondered, examining some sort of writing etched into the gold edging the lip of the vase. Looks like some kind of runes…

It was hard to see. Avery rubbed at the gold, trying to bring the writing out clearer. Except that that was not what happened. What happened was that the vase began to shake in his hands. Startled, he dropped it, then tried quickly to recover it before it hit the floor. But the vase didn't break when it hit the floor. There was a loud popping sound, followed by a flash of light that left him blinded. And then something landed hard in his lap, while he was blinking, trying to clear his vision.

Avery found, when his vision cleared, that his day had just gotten stranger. Because there was an unconscious girl lying across his lap. As if that wasn't weird enough, she was dressed like…well, like some kind of harem girl. Definitely not an engagement gift from my mom, he thought, staring down at the long legs revealed by the very scanty bit of silk she was wearing. It was really a good thing Avery was able to keep his sense of humor. Something had to balance out his libido, which seemed to have gone into overdrive.

"Um…hey…" Avery said quietly, not sure what else to do. "Excuse me? Miss?"

Lame, he thought, groaning inwardly. That was so lame. Well, what exactly was he supposed to do? He knew he couldn't just sit there, staring at her. So even though she was some strange harem girl that had come out of a vase that had been mysteriously delivered to his doorstep, Avery picked her up and carried her into his room. The couch isn't very comfortable, he thought, as if that justified it. It was as he was carrying her that he noticed the gold bands around her upper arms. Those gold bands put in his mind what was just about the stupidest notion ever: that she was a genie.

"No way, Avery," he said aloud, shaking his head. "Just no way. There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this…"

Oh, like hell there is, he thought cynically, as he set the girl down on the bed. A scantily dressed harem girl appears out of what could be, in essence, a lamp, and there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for that? I guess anything is better than believing she really is a genie, Avery thought, studying her face carefully. And you know, she looks awfully familiar… The dark hair was smoother and straighter, the complexion clearer, but she actually looked kind of like…Cypress. No way, he thought. I mean, Cypress wouldn't be caught dead in an outfit like…that.

It was a very tantalizing outfit, to be sure. The silver and blue silk made such a nice contrast. Of course, Avery found his eyes drawn more downward, towards her hips, where it was quite apparent that she wasn't wearing anything beneath those little bits of silk. This is too much, he thought, reaching out and very gently touching her bare thigh. Agh, Avery, you pervert, stop that! He jerked his hand back, but it was too late. Heck, he'd barely even touched her, but it was enough to wake her up.

Which really was quite unfortunate, because she took one look at him, and started to scream.

*****

One would think that, if a girl woke up to find herself in the bed of a Celtic forest god, said girl would be very happy. Except that Cypress, unlike other girls, was painfully aware, even in the first seconds of barely lucid wakefulness, just how terrible her situation was. She wasn't in the least disoriented; she remembered everything that had happened with Ephasia, and even part of her first moments inside that wretched vase. Which was why, when Cypress realized that she was laying—practically naked, as far as she was concerned—in Avery Bachman's bed, and she was now, by the law of the Djinn, his genie, she started to scream.

It wasn't her brightest idea. Or perhaps it was, depending upon how you looked at it. It was somewhat unfortunate, because Avery pounced on her as soon as she started to scream and pinned her down, covering her mouth with his hand. It was fortunate, however, because of course she'd just been pounced on by a Celtic forest god, which had to be the highlight of her day, if not her entire life. They stared at each other, wide-eyed, for a long, long time, before Avery finally spoke.

"Cypress?" he asked, his voice full of astonishment.

She shook her head. "Mrf mph mrph!"

"Oh!" Avery pulled his hand away from her mouth. "Sorry. You are Cypress, aren't you?"

"No!" she spat, after sucking in a gulp of air. "Get off me!"

Because it was really actually very nice, being pinned to the bed like that. Except there was no way she could let him get away with that, so Cypress wriggled beneath him, trying to push him off. Scowling, Avery sprang backwards, releasing her. And she found out right away that maybe it had been a bad idea, telling him to get off of her. Not because she'd really enjoyed the feeling of his body on hers, even though that was technically true. The problem was that all of Cypress' wiggling had caused her skirt—what there was of it—to be pushed aside.

They both looked down at the same time. There was another of those long pauses, in which they were both very still and silent. Then Cypress sucked in a breath and, before Avery could stop her, started screaming again. He pounced a second time, quickly clamping his hand over her mouth. Which was good, because now she was covered—except that this time she could feel something hard pressing against her stomach. Okay, Cypress thought, her cheeks starting to burn, since when did my life become some low budget romantic comedy?

"You can't scream," Avery hissed, his eyes wide. Although that might have been more because he was easily as aware of what was going on with his body as she was. "This is an apartment building."

Cypress gave him a rather pointed glare.

"Well, then, you shouldn't have worn it," Avery said, obviously getting her point. "I mean, why…what…what are you?" And he took his hand off her mouth again, although this time he didn't move, and she didn't try to make him.

"I am a freak," Cypress grumbled, "and a loser. But among other things I am also, apparently, half-genie. You know, it's probably better if you don't ask."

"You came out of a vase and landed in my lap," Avery pointed out. "Of course I'm going to ask." 

"Believe me, none of this was my idea!" Cypress snapped. "Some weird girl shows up and tells me she's my sister, and oh yeah, I'm half-genie, and then she takes me to this place called Iifa and sticks me in this stupid outfit and puts these gold bands on me, and then she stuck me in that vase and gave it to you for some reason, so now I'm stuck being your genie!"

I'm not going to cry, Cypress thought, gritting her teeth. I'm already babbling like an idiot, I am not…I'm not… Except she already was. She could feel the tears as they trickled down her cheeks, hot and wet. Avery, looking uncomfortable, turned his head and rose slowly. He grabbed the edge of the blanket and yanked it free, so he could wrap it around her, then helped her sit up. What am I going to do? Cypress thought, rubbing fiercely at her eyes, as if that alone would get her to stop crying. I don't want to be anyone's genie…not even Avery's!

Because she was stuck with it. She knew it, even though she wasn't exactly sure how she knew. There was no three wish limit on this gig, either. No, Cypress was stuck being Avery's genie until he died and she was passed on to someone else. Or until they found a way to free her, but she had no idea where to begin on that. I miss Phil, she thought, hugging herself. I want my cat. Because Phil, unlike humans, understood when she was upset. And Phil, unlike humans, was really good at making her feel better.

"Cypress?" Avery said softly.

Like an idiot, she responded. "What?"

"I knew it was you," Avery said. "What…why…your father is worried about you, you know!"

Well, at least I'm not the only one with an intelligent thought traffic jam, Cypress thought. "My father…" Cypress said, frowning. "Geez, how am I going to explain this to him!?"

She couldn't even explain it to herself. But as it turned out, she probably wasn't going to have to tell her father. Because that was when Avery said something that turned her whole life upside down:

"Maybe he already knows."

*****

"You…you…you…!"

Savion cringed. Judging by the enraged expression on Ephasia's face, it was pretty apparent that he'd managed to screw this one up big time. She stood on the other side of the roof, having just finished watching the proceedings below, and she was obviously not happy. But I did what she asked! he thought, as she began stalking towards him. I did! So why was he having to backpedal so swiftly? Because Ephasia might have been a tiny little five-foot-nothing dewdrop, but as far as power went, she had him way overmatched.

"How could you mess this up?" she demanded, jabbing a finger at his chest—which hurt like hell, considering how long her nails were. "I told you, the third door from the left!"

"I thought you said right!" Savion cried, backing up another step. "Look, Ephasia, I'm sorry! Really! I didn't mean to—"

"But you did!" Ephasia interrupted. "You gave the Vessel to the wrong person and now she's not going to get the punishment she deserves!"

Savion realized he was going to have to do some looking into just who lived in the apartment three doors from the left. But not right now, since he had bigger problems on his hands. Ephasia had backed him up to the edge of the roof and, if he didn't do something soon, he was going to have to float. So he edged sideways, trying to stay out of her range. At least when she was angry she seemed to forget that she was a genie. Savion slipped around her, to the relative safety of the rest of the roof.

"I'm really sorry, Ephasia," he said again. "I can fix it! Just tell me what you want me to do!"

"You think I'm going to trust you with something this important again?" Ephasia demanded. "You're an imbecile!"

"Ephasia…" Savion said quietly. That hurt. That really hurt. All he was trying to do was help her. "Come on…You know I'd do anything for you…"

And he would too. Savion had always loved Ephasia, ever since they were little. When they were just kids, she actually played with him, until her father found out. Then she wasn't allowed to come out and play with him and his other friends anymore. It's like she's changed since then, he thought, sighing. She's not the same Ephasia that I remember. But then she turned and smiled at him, ever so sweetly, and he realized that he was being silly; of course she was the same Ephasia he'd fallen in love with. 



How to Be a Genie: 12 Easy Steps Ch. 04



Chapter Four: What You Don't Know...Sucks

The sunlight was coming in at an odd angle. Avery was used to it coming directly across his face in the morning, but he could feel the heat of it on his feet instead. Startled awake by this odd change, he found, upon opening his eyes, that he was sleeping on his couch. God, I had such a crazy dream last night, he thought, rolling over onto his back and forcing his eyes open to slits. Cypress was a genie! And a hot genie, at that... But wait just a minute. Why, precisely, was he sleeping on his couch? Avery didn't own a terribly comfortable couch; he preferred to avoid sleeping on it at all costs.

He rolled back onto his side and found himself staring a vase made of blue glass that was sitting on his coffee table. Shit, it wasn't a dream, he thought, sitting up and kicking aside the blanket he'd pulled over himself. I'm apparently just going crazy. What other explanation was there? It all started to come back to Avery as he wandered into the kitchen, intent upon getting some coffee to sweep the sleep cobwebs from his brain. Last night, after he'd gotten her to settle down—not to mention given her some actual clothing—Cypress had told him the whole story about her trip to Iifa and her sister drafting her into the life of a genie. It was all real. Avery knew that. But he still thought he was going crazy.

Which would have been preferable, really, to being dead, which he was about to be. He knew this because he'd just heard a key slide into the lock of his apartment door. Only one other person had his key—although not because he'd given it to her—and that was Vivian. The woman who was certain, even if he wasn't, that they were destined to be together for the rest of their lives. Well, finding Cypress in my bed might discourage her, Avery thought, mulling this over as he stirred his coffee. Then I wouldn't have to—oof!

"Viv!" he gasped, shaking hot coffee from his fingers. "Please let go."

"Good morning, Avey," Vivian cooed, ignoring his words completely. "Are you happy to see me?"

No, Avery thought. "Of course I am," he said, wriggling out of her grasp. "Although it's um...early. I mean, I didn't expect you this early."

"You forgot?" Vivian pouted up at him, the picture of a spoiled, upper-middle class woman. "We've got to go grocery shopping, silly. My parents are coming to dinner tonight."

"Tonight? Here?" Avery asked, starting to feel panicked. How had he forgotten this? He never forgot these things.

Vivian planted her hands on her hips and frowned at him. "Yes, here," she said, giving him a seriously disapproving look. "I left message about it on your cell phone last night. You never picked up."

Oh. So he wasn't just dead, he was DEAD. All capitals. Because it was true, Avery had ignored his cell phone when it rang last night; all fifty times. Of course he'd realized that it was Vivian. He'd figured that, owing as to how he'd been trying to comfort a girl who'd suddenly become his own personal genie, he'd had a right to ignore her calls. Unfortunately, as Vivian often did, when she couldn't get him to give her an answer on something, she answered for him. I really need to learn to put my foot down, Avery thought, abandoning his coffee and following her into the living room. Because I sure as hell don't need this right now.

The other thing he didn't need was for Cypress to come wandering out of his bedroom at just that moment. So naturally she did. She was wearing one of his old Iron Maiden t-shirts, which was admittedly a step up from the little wisps of silk she'd arrived in. You know, if I weren't about die a very horrible death, Avery thought, tilting his head just slightly as he studied her, I'd probably start thinking on how cute she looks like that. Thank god he'd gotten the t-shirt a couple sizes too large, though (he'd been sixteen at the time, after all). At least it hung nearly to her knees, and the sleeves came down far enough to cover the gold bands on her upper arms. Vivian was going to be pissed enough without thinking he'd gone and joined some twisted Master/slave sex cult.

Cypress stood in the middle of the living room, blinking at them both. Not because she couldn't see—she'd told him she didn't appear to need her glasses anymore. Avery noticed that she looked half-horrified and half-amused. And why not? he thought, watching Vivian stomp over to her. I'd probably be laughing too if a munchkin was trying to intimidate me. Because that was what Vivian, who was five foot and zip, looked like in comparison to Cypress.

"Who are you?" Vivian demanded. "And why are you in my fiancé's apartment?"

Cypress handled herself with surprising aplomb. "My name is Cypress," she said, "and I'm a friend of Avery's. He just let me crash here tonight cause I had this big fight with my girlfriend and I had nowhere else to go."

"In his t-shirt?" Vivian asked, although the girlfriend comment seemed to take all the wind out of her sails.

"This," Cypress said, plucking at the t-shirt, "is mine."

She turned on her heel and went back into her bedroom, leaving Vivian gaping in surprise. Knowing how Vivian felt about lesbians, Avery put an arm around her shoulders and smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. That was some seriously quick thinking, he thought, glancing over his shoulder at the bedroom door. But she...she doesn't really have a girlfriend, does she? No way. It was just something she'd said to throw Vivian off the scent. Some might say that Cypress' aversion to men was a sure sign of lesbianism, but Avery knew better; Cypress had an aversion to everyone. She'd pretty much told him so, last night.

"You never told me about her," Vivian hissed, when they were back in the kitchen.

And even if it was the truth, I never would have, Avery thought. All I'd need is you telling her how she's going to burn in hell for her sexual orientation. Out loud he said, "Well, she's um...not really a people person. Doesn't like meeting anyone new..."

"She isn't going to be here tonight, is she?" Vivian wanted to know. Suddenly she looked quite panicked. "My parents won't like that at all."

"She won't be here tonight," Avery assured her, even though what he really wanted to do was tell her that yes, unfortunately, Cypress would be joining them for dinner. He just didn't think Cypress would appreciate it all that much. "Listen, why don't you go on ahead and I'll meet you at the store, okay?"

In her state of complete shock, Vivian was much more compliant than usual. She kissed him on the cheek—rather unenthusiastically, actually—and left the apartment. Thank god, Avery thought, retrieving his coffee mug. I thought I was about to be strung up by my um...toes. His coffee, unfortunately, was now cold. No big surprise there. For him daily life operated under Murphy's Law: "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong". Perhaps that was why he'd found it so easy to be sympathetic of Cypress' plight. Her luck was worse than his.

Cypress came out of his room again, this time fully dress. The jeans he'd leant were much too big for her, but she didn't seem to care. It was a little odd, seeing her with her hair looking so soft and smooth, like silk. 

"Think you could give me a ride home?" she asked, smiling sheepishly. "I don't have any shoes."

Avery grinned. "I think that's the least of your problems," he told her, honestly. "But yeah, I'll give you a ride. You're going to talk to your father, right?"

"I'm going to go home," Cypress said. "I appreciate your hospitality very much, but I can't live here!"

He refrained from pointing out that she was, technically, his genie. For one thing, he didn't think she'd appreciate him referring to her as his possession. For another, well...she wasn't his. As much as the laws of her people—whatever they actually were—might say that she belonged to him, she didn't. Although for some reason it kind of stung that she didn't want to stay. Maybe it was Vivian, Avery thought, as he headed into his bedroom to change into something clean. She's always been really good at scaring other women off. Not that he actually really wanted Cypress to stay; that would be a hassle and a half. It was just that, you know, if you were going to be stuck living with a woman, it might as well be one who had good taste in music. Who would want to live with Vivian, who liked Clay Aiken, when you could live with Cypress, who liked Ozzy Osborne?

Oh, okay, fine, she's cute, Avery admitted grudgingly to himself, as he came out of his room to find Cypress waiting for him. She had her hands up under her sleeves, chaffing at the gold bands around her upper arms, which looked mighty uncomfortable. When he came back out of his room, she looked up and smiled at him shyly. Ah, a shy, sweet, quiet girl. Well, at least, shy. And relatively quiet. Avery was used to Vivian's constant babble. Aside from explaining what had happened to her to him last night, Cypress very rarely spoke unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Ready to go?" Avery asked, jangling his keys at her.

Cypress nodded. "Yeah," she replied. "I just really hope my dad remembered to feed the cat."

*****

The apartment building hadn't changed in the least little bit since she'd been gone. Not that she'd been expecting it to. After all, as far as she was concerned, she hadn't been gone more than a day, perhaps two. According to Avery, though, she'd been missing since last Wednesday. You know, she thought, if I actually had a brain, I would have asked him what day it was. And how many classes had she missed? Cypress wished she had a few more classes with Avery; at least then he'd be able to give her his notes to copy. Well, and it would just be nice to be able to look at him more often.

Considering the circumstances, he'd been very kind and understanding. Of course, Cypress would have found anyone who even believed her to be kind and understanding. In her hours alone in that wretched vase, she'd come to accept that she was, in fact, half-genie. Hard not to, really. The bands around her arms were uncomfortable, sometimes to the point where they seemed to burn her skin. As she climbed out of Avery's car, they flared up with a heat that had her gasping, leaning heavily against the car to avoid falling.

"Are you all right?" Avery asked, reaching across the car seat and grabbing her arm to steady her. It was wonderful, really. The eyes of the Celtic forest god held concern. For her.

"Yeah," Cypress assured him, straightening up slowly. "Yeah, just...you know, this whole G-word thing comes with some downsides, I guess."

Avery grinned. "I'm sure it does," he agreed. "Look, give me a call if um...if you need to talk or anything. I mean, not that I can really understand what you're going through, but I can still listen."

Cypress could only nod. She knew her cheeks were turning red, and she felt warm inside, as if the heat from her armbands had transferred to the rest of her body. Stumbling a little, she turned and headed toward her apartment building, pausing only long enough to wave good-bye to Avery. You know, maybe what Ephasia did wasn't so bad, Cypress thought, as she hit the buzzer to be allowed into the building. I mean, who knows? This could lead to something between Avery and me. Yeah, sure, it was highly unlikely. What with him having a fiancée and all. But it was really nice to think about.

She wasn't sure who was happier to see her; her father, or her cat. Probably her cat. Phil rubbed against her legs, purring so loudly that it sounded as if it were coming through his nose. Cypress picked him up—not an easy feat, him being so large—and held him, mainly so her dad couldn't hug her. She was angry with him. The more she looked at him, the angrier she became. And her father must have realized it, too, because he smiled at her uneasily and took a step back.

"I've been so worried about you," her father began, in a quiet, cautious voice.

"Oh, I'm so sure," Cypress said sardonically, rolling her eyes. "You were so worried about me...so how does that explain you never telling me that mom was a genie!?"

Her father winced. "Cypress, sweetheart, it's...well...to be honest..." her father stammered, looking somewhat lost. "Well, how was I supposed to tell you?"

In her anger, Cypress tightened her hold on Phil. Her cat let out a yowl of dismay and started to squirm, at which point she promptly set him down. She followed him into the kitchen—his usual destination when he saw her—and got a can of cat food from the cupboard. Her father followed, as well, but she was too busy fuming to speak to him. Not to mention feeding her cat. Judging based on the lack of dry food in his bowl, and the hole chewed into the side of the plastic garbage can, it was safe to say that Phil hadn't been fed in awhile. Cypress spooned salmon-flavored Friskies onto a paper plate, her trembling fingers causing some of it to spatter on the counter.

"There was nothing I could have done!" her father cried, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Cypress, even if you had believed me, what would we do? I couldn't let you go around telling people your mother was a genie! They'd want to put you on Ritalin or something!"

Her father, she knew, thought Ritalin was evil. "That's the least of my worries!" Cypress snapped. "Does she know you never told me? Does she think I didn't want to see her?"

"I..." Her father's shoulders slumped. "I haven't really...well, she gave me a way to contact her if...but I didn't think..."

Well now that was just the final straw. Cypress slapped the paper plate down on the floor, growling in frustration as more salmon Friskies splattered on her shirt. Great, she thought, as she stomped away from her father, towards her room. This doesn't even belong to me! And now she was going to have to wash it, which would remove the nice Avery-smell it had to it. It was, she knew, really a childish thing to do, but Cypress made sure to slam her door as hard as she could after she'd stomped into her room. Naturally, that backfired on her, since the door just bounced right back open again. Cursing lazy landlords, she shut it and locked it.

She slid down to floor and leaned heavily against the door, bracing her head in her hands. He's known all these years where she is, Cypress thought, and how to get in contact with her. How could her father do this to her? The one thing she'd wanted all these years, more than anything else, was to know who her mother was. And that her mother hadn't left because she didn't love her. I have an older brother, Cypress thought, which means mom had an affair with dad, which is why I was born. Which I guess is a pretty good reason why she couldn't stay. No wonder she wasn't welcome in the genie world. Still, her father should have told her. What if she needed to get in contact with her mother? What if she'd started manifesting powers or something?

"Oh my god," Cypress murmured, lifting her head. "Powers!?"

Because if she was a genie, she needed to be able to grant wishes, right? Didn't that mean she should have some sort of powers? Oh, no, no, no, Cypress thought, forcing herself onto her feet. I can't have powers, I can't! No one as clumsy and stupid as me should be allowed to have magical powers! She paced her room like a caged wild thing, going from the window to the door and back again. She'd seen no indication that she could grant wishes, but then, Avery hadn't asked for one. What if he did? And what if he could? This does not bode well for the universe, Cypress thought, shaking her head.

"I have to do something," she said out loud, coming to a halt in the middle of her room. "I absolutely cannot sit around and think about this."

And she needed time to calm down, so she could try talking to her father again. Although it was a long time before she was going to be anything other than mad. Cypress sat down at her computer—a very old Packard Bell that barely managed to run the internet—and reaching for her backpack. She didn't have any friends, so she would have to contact her teachers about the work she'd missed. And figure out what kind of excuse she could make as to why she'd been out of class. Maybe I should tell them that I was sick, Cypress thought. Better yet, that my father was in the hospital. Because he yet might be, if he keeps talking himself into a hole.

There was not a whole lot else to do. With e-mails sent off to each of her teachers, Cypress spent a little time surfing the net. She couldn't do much there, either, because she had the slowest connection known to man. Instead she found herself pulling an old romance novel down off her bookshelf and curling up on her bed to read it. Corny and lame, she knew, but there was nothing else to do. Nothing aside from read, and get up occasionally to check and see if her teachers had gotten back to her. Oh, and ignore her father, who kept knocking on the door and saying idiotic things like "I thought I was doing what was best for you".

At noon she went into the kitchen and made herself a tuna sandwich on wry. Her father didn't even try to talk to her this time, just kept looking at her from over the back of the couch, when he thought she wasn't paying attention. Cypress went back into her room, with Phil on her heels, and continue to read the afternoon away. She only ate half of her sandwich; the other half went to her poor cat, who had spent the past God knew how long not being fed.

Aside from the whole genie thing, it was a sadly typical day for her. It wasn't until almost six o'clock in the evening that things started to get interesting...although not in a good way. Cypress rose, to check her e-mail again, and tumbled back down to the bed as the world spun violently around her. What the hell...? she thought, slowly sitting up again. God, I must be hungry... Except her stomach wasn't growling. And the world was spinning so violently, more so when she tried to stand. The room started to feel unbearably hot, until she was sweating. And the places where her armbands were itched and burned. What's going on? Cypress wondered frantically, as she dropped her head between her knees in a desperate attempt to make the spinning stop. What is this!?



How to Be a Genie: 12 Easy Steps Ch. 05



Chapter Five: Step Two: Avoid Leaving Your Master's Side at All Costs!

The biggest problem, when it came to having dinner with Vivian's parents, was that for some reason they always want to sit around the table at his place. Sure, there were plenty of other problems, too, but Avery considered this one to be at the very top of the list. On any other occasion, Vivian's parents liked to go out to expensive five star restaurants for dinner. Why they felt such a strong need to invade his personal space, he didn't know, but it was a trait they'd handed down to their daughter, no doubt about it.

Vivian's mother, Beverly, was one of those women who had to stick her nose in everything. She read every gossip column and trashy tabloid she could get her hands on. Although the two of them acted like the best of friends—they got their hair and nails done at the same salon—Avery knew for a fact that Vivian held a grudge against her mother for reading her diary so many times. He didn't have much sympathy, though; Vivian had always left a fake for her mother to find, and kept her real diary in her locker at school.

Vivian's father was one of those men who unfortunately hit upon every single businessman cliché in the known universe. He had what could be termed as a 'beer gut'—although it was actually from eating too much McDonalds, according to Viv—and aside from some hair around the sides of his head, he was mostly bald. Gerald "Call me Jerry" Waterman liked playing golf, telling really bad jokes, and betting on racehorses. Avery had never really liked either of Vivian's parents—they were far too concerned with appearances.

I don't know what's worse, Avery thought, nibbling at a piece of garlic bread. Having to go out to a fancy restaurant with them, or having them come here. At least the food was relatively simple. He and Vivian had gotten spaghetti and all the ingredients needed to make sauce with sausage and meatballs in it. And the garlic bread. Vivian had also insisted on making a salad, because her father needed to eat something healthy. Avery was still trying to figure out how anything slathered in blue cheese dressing and covered in bacon bits could possibly be healthy, when Gerald turned his attention—and his unfortunate sense of humor—on him.

"So, my boy," Gerald said, in a pompous tone that always grated on Avery's nerves. "Heard any good jokes lately?"

"Gerald," Beverly said, in a warning tone. In contrast to her husband, she ate her pasta without sauce or grated cheese, and her salad without even so much as a crouton. 

"Come on, Bev," Gerald complained. "I've got a really good one. The boy's going to love it!"

Says you, Avery thought, trying not to roll his eyes. Much to his extreme fortune—not to mention surprise—a knock on his door kept him from having to hear the joke. What the heck is wrong with me? he wondered, as he made his way to the door. This morning I had a genie. I could have wished for them to change their minds. Or at least for him to grow a backbone where Vivian was concerned. Avery wasn't even certain Cypress could do such things, but it would have been nice to find out when he'd had the chance. 

For all his thoughts about wishes, though, he would never have expected to find Cypress waiting for him when he opened the door. Avery choked when he saw her. His first thought was that she had to leave right away. But he realized almost immediately that something was not right, so instead he slipped out of his apartment, closing the door quickly behind himself. If Vivian saw Cypress now, she'd start to suspect that the whole lesbian thing wasn't true.

"Hey," Avery said softly. "Cypress...hey, look at me..."

He had to reach out and catch her face between his hands, forcing her to look up. Her face was so pale that her freckles stood out in stark relief and her eyes were blurred, as if she were drugged. She was trembling, as well, so much so that he could see it clearly. That was all Avery really had time to see, because she swayed on her feet and crashed into him. He had to catch hold of her and plant his feet, to keep both of them from hitting the door. Cypress snuggled against him, making a soft sound like a kitten curling up on a fluffy blanket.

"Uh...Cypress..." Avery rested his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back a little. "Are you okay?"

"I...don't know..." Cypress answered. Her voice was faint. "I just...got really dizzy and..."

She swayed again, and this time she almost fell. I am in so much trouble, Avery thought, as he caught her. I can't stay out here, they're going to come looking for me. Cypress snuggled up to him once again, which was really disconcerting. Even more disconcerting than that, though, was that this time he noticed that her trembling had eased some. Carefully Avery pushed her away again, but he held onto her so she wouldn't fall. She looked up at him, blinking owlishly, as though trying to clear her mind.

"Why did you come here?" Avery asked. "You should go to the hospital."

"This is just...where I ended up." Cypress shrugged weakly. "I am feeling a little better now..."

I think I know what's going on here, Avery thought. He really was in so much trouble. At the moment he needed to figure out what to do with Cypress; he couldn't just send her on her way. Leaving her propped against the wall outside his apartment door, he went back inside. Vivian and her parents looked up at him questioningly as he quickly shut the door. Avery flashed them a sheepish smile as he passed the table. He grabbed his cell phone from the charger on the counter and headed back towards the door.

"My neighbor's phone is out," Avery explained. "I'll be back in a moment."

"Don't be gone too long," Vivian said, frowning at him.

Cypress was still where he'd left her, but she wasn't looking too good. Avery put an arm around her waist and led her down the stairs and out of the apartment. I wish I'd thought to bring my car keys, he thought, glancing around the small apartment parking lot. I don't know where I'm going to put her. He felt bad enough, having to leave her unattended. But Viv had already seen Cypress, so it wasn't like he could claim she was his sick cousin or anything. Avery needed to get Vivian and her parents out of the way before he could help Cypress. 

There was a rusty old pick-up truck in the parking lot. It belonged to his landlord and it was never used. Feeling guilty, Avery helped Cypress up into the pick-up truck and had her duck down in a corner. The Waterman's expensive Lamborghini was only a few parking spaces away. As soon as she's feeling better, he thought, eyeing her pale face, I'm wishing for a backbone. It was just that he hated complicating things; life was much more peaceful when he didn't. Unfortunately Avery got the feeling that his life was never going to be uncomplicated again. Not unless he could do something about Cypress' genie status.

"Here," Avery said quietly, pressing the cell phone into Cypress' hands. "Take this."

She blinked at him again, her eyes a bit clearer. "What for?"

"Viv's parents are here, remember?" Avery reminded her. "Do you think you can hold out for a little longer?"

"I guess so..." Cypress said. She looked confused.

"Good," Avery said. "Just wait a little while longer, and then use the cell to call me. My home number should be in the phone somewhere..."

Cypress was still looking confused, but he didn't have time to explain. Leaving her there with the phone, he quickly made his way back inside. Fortunately neither Vivian nor her parents had come out of the apartment. If they'd caught him, he would have been in deep. When she calls me, Avery thought, I'll tell them I have a family emergency and need to leave immediately. That will get them to go. It was the only thing he could think of—and it wasn't entirely untrue.

"There you are!" Vivian exclaimed, when he walked back into the apartment for the second time. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry," Avery said, shrugging. "My neighbor, he...he just doesn't shut up, you know."

"Oh, I just can't stand those sorts of people," Beverly said. "They just get on my nerves so much. Really, no one has anything good to say for that amount of time, so they should really just shut their traps, don't you think? I mean, I would never..."

Avery tuned her out. Beverly was one of those people; only she was a complete hypocrite about it. The only good thing was that it kept her husband from telling any of his horrible jokes. What the hell is wrong with me? he wondered, staring morosely down at his plate and pushing his spaghetti around with his fork. Why can't I just stand up for myself? He could in other situations, but not in this one. And right now Cypress needed him. Avery was pretty certain of that.

The next half hour was torture. When the phone finally rang, his relief was tangible—at least, until he picked it up. Cypress didn't say anything, but somehow Avery knew it was her. He pretended to be having a conversation, making sure that he sounded like someone who was very worried. God, I am such an asshole, he thought, as he set the phone down and turned back to Vivian and her family. But I guess maybe I'm an asshole for the right reasons? Helping a friend was important. Avery just didn't expect Vivian or her parents to understand that; they rarely had altruistic motivations.

"What's wrong?" Vivian asked. She was wearing that little frown of hers; the suspicious one.

"Family emergency," Avery explained, hoping he sounded sufficiently urgent. "It's...it's my grandmother."

Beverly let out an overdone gasp of false concern. "Oh no! Whatever is wrong with the poor dear?" she wanted to know.

"Her um...hip," Avery replied. At that moment he really wanted to strangle Mrs. Waterman. "She fell, you see...look, I don't mean to be rude, but I really need to get to her. It's very important."

"All right then, dear," Beverly said, patting his cheek and smiling condescendingly at him. "We understand, don't we? You make sure you give us a call if you need anything."

Avery nodded and forced a bright smile to his face, hoping she'd think he was grateful. At least they didn't seem too put out. Vivian, however, still looked suspicious. He caught her looking around the parking lot as he walked them outside. As her eyes skimmed over the pick-up truck, he started to panic. But she must not have seen anything, because she shrugged and climbed into her parents' car after giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. Oh, thank god, Avery thought, waving to them as they pulled out of the parking lot. I thought I'd have to wrestle them to the door.

He made his way towards his own car, just in case Vivian was watching him. When he was certain they were gone, Avery headed towards the pick-up truck. Cypress was curled up in the corner he'd left her in, clutching the phone. Her eyes were closed, and she was looking pale again. Worried, he scooped her up and headed back into the apartment building. No one was around, which was good; he didn't want anyone seeing him carrying a girl who wasn't his fiancé. Or almost fiancé.

It wasn't until he'd gotten her upstairs and was carrying her into his bedroom that he realized she was still wearing the clothes he'd lent her. Cypress stirred as he lowered her onto his bed, her eyes opening to small slits. She doesn't seem to have a fever, Avery thought. In fact...she feels a little cold... She was perking up a small bit, after he'd carried her, which made him pretty sure his suspicions were right.

"Where...?" Cypress mumbled, trying to force her eyes open further.

"My place," Avery told her. "Remember? Geez, Cypress...are you okay?"

"I have no idea," Cypress told him. Her voice regained a bit of strength the more she spoke. "I just...I got dizzy and...and these stupid things...they hurt! It was like they were burning or something!"

Carefully, Avery pushed one of her sleeves up to get a look at the gold band around her upper arm. The skin didn't look irritated, and the band didn't feel hot, but there was certainly something wrong with her. Color flooded back into her cheeks when he touched her. Cypress' eyes were still a bit foggy, though, especially when he pulled away from her. I can't take her to the hospital anyway, Avery thought, as he took a seat next to her. What am I going to say? "Um, excuse me, but my genie seems to have come down with something..." No, that wasn't going to work.

Cypress tried to sit up, but she was still weak. Poor thing, Avery thought, shifting closer to her. This just isn't fair. He didn't really understand what was happening to her, but it didn't seem right. Well, okay, the whole thing was crazy, what with her being a genie and all, but... No one who's been human all their life should have to become a genie, Avery thought, reaching down and gently pushing her hair from her face. And I don't understand how she ended up being my genie.

"Looks like you're going to have to stay here," Avery murmured. "I've just got this sneaking suspicion..."

Maybe he was the one who was sick. The more he stared down at her, the more he found himself thinking about how soft her lips looked. And, really, how cute her freckles were. And, of course, at the worst possible moment, Avery found himself calling up an image in his mind's eye of her in that genie outfit. I have a fiancé, he reminded himself, as he leaned forward to kiss her. Well, okay, an almost fiancé...

Then he decided to just stop over-thinking it so much. Cypress' mouth felt as soft as it looked. He felt her stir, coming awake at the touch of his lips against hers. Avery wasn't quite sure what possessed him, but when she wrapped her arms around his neck, he lowered his body over hers, pinning her to the bed. At first Cypress seemed a little stiff and awkward, especially when his tongue brushed up against hers, but the longer his kissed her, the more she relaxed.

This isn't right, Avery thought, pulling back from her a little. I really shouldn't... His lips brushed the corner of her mouth, as if his body was moving of its own accord, and then he was right back to square one. Right or wrong, he didn't really want to stop. It was Cypress who ended the kiss; she let out a sudden gasp and pushed him away, scrambling to sit upright. Avery had to keep himself from falling off the bed at this abrupt change of mind.

"What are you doing here?" Cypress demanded.

Confused, Avery turned, following her narrowed gaze. He swallowed hard at what he saw: there was yet another genie standing in his bedroom. He was positive that she was a genie, and not just because she'd somehow appeared in his apartment without coming through any doors. Although her outfit was a bit more practical than Cypress' had been, it was also very harem girl-ish. Her blonde hair was absolutely perfect and the color of her eyes was inhumanly intense. Unlike Cypress, though, there were no bands around her upper arms.

"Aw, isn't this cozy?" the newcomer cooed, tilting her head in the same annoying way that Vivian did. 

"What are you doing here?" Cypress repeated. She had regained her strength, and she looked furious.

"Oh, just checking in," the other genie said, smiling maliciously. "Boy, you sure got lucky. I was furious with Savion for screwing this up...and now there's nothing I can do to change it."

Cypress rolled her eyes. "Ephasia, get to the point, or get out. You might be a full genie, but I am fully pissed off at you!"

The other genie, Ephasia, laughed at that. Oh yeah, Avery thought, she said her sister's name was Ephasia. And it had been her sister who had slapped those damn arm bands on her. From what she just said, he thought, eyeing the blonde, Cypress wasn't meant to end up with me. That unnerved him. What had this spiteful bitch had in store for her poor half-sister? He knew there were some pretty unsavory characters in his apartment building. Avery didn't like to think about what might have happened to Cypress if she'd ended up a few doors down.

"You are so droll, sis," Ephasia said. She folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at Cypress. "Don't think you can get away with speaking to me like that, though. If you don't think I can make your life more miserable than it already is, you're wrong."

"If you're trying to make me miserable, you're doing a lousy job of it!" Cypress shot back. 

Ephasia sighed. "As I already said, this," she pointed at Avery, "was a mistake. A very unfortunate one. But as it turns out, I may get more entertainment out of this debacle than I thought. Read the next step, sis."

Ephasia snapped her fingers, and a scroll appeared in her hand. She tossed it to Cypress, who nearly missed catching it. Avery could see that, despite her brave face, her hands were trembling as she opened it. She wouldn't let him see the scroll, but what she read made her face go pale. Annoyed, he snatched the scroll from her hands. These are steps? Avery thought, eyeing them skeptically. Well, I suppose...in a roundabout kind of way...maybe steps to being the best genie you can be or something... Well, what was he supposed to think? The second step was...

"The first months of a genie's bond with her master are terribly important," Ephasia said, her voice taking on that cooing tone again. She looked straight at Avery, her smile vindictive. "If she's out of your presence for too long, poor little sis will die." 



How to Be a Genie: 12 Easy Steps Ch. 06



Chapter Six: How to Readjust Your Genie

If she laid very, very still, she could almost pretend that her skull wasn't splitting. Suddenly Cypress knew how her father felt, those mornings after he'd had a wee bit too much to drink. Of course, her father had always had her there to bring him a nice big mug of black coffee. She wasn't even sure that would help this headache, since it wasn't from a hangover. At least, I don't think so, Cypress thought. I can't quite remember what happened last night… It was all kind of blurry, as if it had been a dream. For some reason she thought she was in Avery's bed, but that was impossible; she'd been at home last night, after all.

Hadn't she? Despite her headache, some details of last night were becoming clear. She'd started to feel pretty ill and out of sorts, and then… I ended up here, Cypress realized. With Avery. And then…Ephasia…she came and… It was like trying to cup water in her hands when her fingers were spread apart. Nothing wanted to stay. There was only one thing she could do: talk to Avery. The problem was, she so did not want to open her eyes. Even if the room was dark, it was going to hurt like hell to open her eyes. Not that it doesn't already, Cypress thought. With a resigned sigh, she forced her eyes open, just a bit.

The curtains were shut, so the room was somewhat dim, but she knew it was Avery's. Heck, she would have without opening her eyes; her bed wasn't half this comfortable. Oh, god, I never even changed out of his clothes, Cypress thought, as she tried to drag herself into a sitting position. I hope he didn't notice the cat food… Really, she could have at least changed. Now she must look like some weird obsessed doofus, no doubt. 

"Cypress?"

She was halfway sitting when Avery called her name. Fortunately he kept his voice soft, but it still made her flinch a little. Judging by his rumpled clothing and messy hair, he'd slept on the couch again. Cypress noticed that he was holding a large, steaming mug in his hands, keeping it steady as he made his way across the room. He did not make me coffee, she thought, staring at the mug. He doesn't think I was drunk, does he? But it wasn't coffee. As soon as the mug was clutched between her hands, she could smell, ever-so-faintly, chamomile. God bless him, Cypress thought, sipping carefully at the tea. No wonder that Vivian woman is all over him all the time. It isn't just because he's really cute.

"How are you feeling?" Avery asked, keeping his voice low. He sat down on the edge of the bed, a few feet away from her.

"Like utter crap," Cypress said, bluntly. "And…geez, I'm sorry…I mean, to impose on you like this again…"

Avery smiled slightly. "Don't worry about it," he said. "My life has gotten…very interesting, since you came into it."

"How very…diplomatic of you," Cypress muttered. "Look, I'll be out of your hair as soon as I possibly can. It would be especially helpful if one of you could drive me home."

Avery grinned. As long as she kept her eyes low, and didn't open them too much, she only saw one of him. But she was awfully dizzy, now that she'd sat up, and her vision kept blurring. You know, being a genie should be cool, Cypress thought, scowling down into her mug of tea. I should be impressive and all-powerful…not the same as I always am, but with added 'bonuses'. At the very least, she should be able to do something about headaches! Really, she should have known she would make the most pathetic excuse for a genie ever.

"I don't think you can leave," Avery said, his tone suddenly somber. "Don't you remember what Ephasia said?"

"I was trying not to," Cypress said dryly. "I know, I know…but what am I supposed to do? Live here?"

She regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. Come on, Cypress, she thought. Even a Celtic forest god isn't that generous. Besides, who would want to live with her? Looking up, she realized that Avery had not recoiled in horror at her words, as she'd thought he would. In fact, he looked like…well, like he was considering it! Like it might be a good idea, even! It's not possible, Cypress thought. Nothing good ever happens to me. If being stuck as someone's genie and not being able to stay away from them without dying actually constituted as good. She wasn't quite sure.

"You can't leave," Avery said, more firmly. "If you're my genie, I'd be pretty irresponsible if I just let you die."

Cypress rolled her eyes. "I'm not a goldfish," she muttered. "Even if I did stay here, what about school? We only have one class together. What if I can't make it through the rest of my classes?" She paused a moment, eyeing him. "We might have to meet up between classes all the time. Would you really be willing to do that?"

"Yes," Avery answered. He grinned at her expression. "I can't let you die. I'd be doing the world a great injustice."

She went so red that she was certain he could see it, even though the room was dark. He shouldn't tease me like that, Cypress thought, squeezing the handle of her mug so tightly, her knuckles turned white. It's not nice… As she sat there, blushing, she started to remember some of the finer details of the night before. Like kissing him. Oh god, he must think I'm such a loser, she thought, wishing she could crawl into a hole and hide. I can't believe I did that! But wait…had she kissed him, or had he kissed her?

Of course he didn't kiss you, dork, Cypress scolded herself. He's got a hot fiancée, why would he… Her mind scrambled like eggs in a pan when Avery reached over and gently touched her hand. What with her sudden desire to shout for joy, one would think she was a twelve-year-old who'd caught a glimpse of her favorite Backstreet Boy. I'm going to die of embarrassment, Cypress thought. But hey, at least I'll die happy. There was definitely something to be said for having a cute guy invite you to live with him.

"Come on, Cypress," Avery wheedled. "We can figure something out. Do you really want your bitch of a sister to win?"

"No," Cypress admitted, with a sigh. "Okay, then. But just remember, this was your idea!"

*****

Avery looked anxiously up at the clock. Why can't he ever finish on time? he wondered, glancing at his Modern Lit teacher. I won't make it to see Cypress if he keeps up like this. And that was not a good thing; she got really edgy if he didn't make it, or even if he was late. Not that he could really blame her. He'd be edgy too, if he knew he'd die simply because he wasn't hanging around someone all the time. But sometimes Avery couldn't help getting annoyed. Cypress had a sharp wit and an equally sharp tongue, and she tended to use both when she was upset. Then afterwards she would apologize, and he couldn't stay angry, because the way she looked at him made him think of a poor little kitten that was afraid of being thrown out in the cold.

When at last his teacher did finish up, Avery shoved his things into his bag and hastened out of the room. He had no more classes today, but Cypress had a ceramics class, and that was two hours long; she wouldn't last through the whole thing if he didn't get to her. They'd found that five or ten minutes allowed her to make it through about an hour-long stretch, before she started getting dizzy and disoriented. This had them scrambling to meet each other between classes. There was simply no other way; Avery had suggested—jokingly—carrying her in the vase, but Cypress had freaked out over that idea. So on the days when one of them had no classes, or only one, they hung around at school waiting for the other.

He reached one of their meeting places—a little nowhere alcove beyond the stairs, the no one ever occupied—to see her standing, waiting for him. Being a genie apparently came with some benefits, because she no longer needed her glasses. At a loss as to what to do with her hair, now that is was smooth and manageable and she actually could do something with it, she'd thrown it up into a ponytail. Even though she'd brought her own clothes to his place, Avery knew that the Alice Cooper t-shirt she was wearing was actually his. Cypress had a tendency to just grab whatever came to hand. Really, she was as good as having a male roommate.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, when she saw him. He saw her shoulders slump in relief. "I thought you weren't going to make it."

"So did I," Avery admitted, as he halted next to her. "He never shuts up! So…how are you feeling?" 

Cypress smiled cynically. "Like a ragged little half-genie with no clue what she's supposed to be doing."

"Well, that's an improvement over yesterday," Avery teased.

To his relief, she smiled. Cypress could go either way with that sort of thing. As long as he didn't tease her about the genie thing, she simply played along, teasing him back. Avery had found, however, that some jokes were simply inappropriate. Like knocking on the bathroom door at six o'clock in the morning, just after she'd crawled out of the shower, and saying "Open Sesame". He'd thought it was quite funny, actually, but Cypress hadn't been very amused. Sometimes Avery thought she must sprinkle Sense of Humor on her breakfast, so she didn't have one until after she'd eaten.

"Well, I'm doing better than you are," Cypress said, the corners of her mouth twitching in the start of a mischievous grin. "You're on your death bed, remember?"

Avery rolled his eyes. "How could I forget?" he grumbled. "It's all I can do to keep Viv from sending an ambulance over."

Since Vivian liked to show up at his place at a minimum of once per day, he'd had to find a way to keep her from coming over. So Avery had phoned her to tell her that he'd caught a cold. He'd played up the runny nose and phlegm quite a bit—there was nothing that would keep Vivian off so well as snot and phlegm. Unfortunately, it was nearly two weeks now that he'd been "sick", and he imagined she was starting to get suspicious. And his landlord had been suspicious from day one. Eventually Avery would have to pay extra rent for Cypress to stay.

"Well, hopefully by next week, this won't be a problem anymore," Cypress said, with a surprising amount of cheerfulness. 

"How uncharacteristically optimistic of you," Avery said dryly. 

"Not optimism," Cypress said, shaking her head. "Where I come from it's called 'wishful thinking'." She rolled her eyes and flashed a small, self-deprecating smile. "Well, I need to get to class. I'm already going to be a few minutes late."

"I'll be down in the library—" Avery began.

"—if I need you," Cypress finished, grinning. "I know, I know. See you later."

And that was how all their meetings tended to go. Really, Avery thought they were handling the school situation quite admirably. It was the home situation that was a major problem. Eventually, like any deception, the truth was going to come out. Either Vivian would find out for herself, or he'd have to tell her. Frankly, Avery would almost rather she found out herself. He could just get the locks changed on his door and stay in his apartment for the rest of his life. She'd never even get the chance to get within throwing distance of him. Which was good, because she had quite an arm, for a woman.

There was another problem, and it wasn't one he could share with Cypress. That was because it centered around her. Living with her was what could be accurately termed as 'pleasant torture'. Avery found she was actually a pretty fun roommate; she had a great sense of humor, she never bitched when he didn't put the toilet seat down, and the only time she complained about his music was when he wasn't playing it loud enough for her to hear it. Sure, she could be a bit tempermental, and she definitely wasn't a morning person, but she wasn't clingy like Vivian, either. In fact, Cypress didn't seem to like him that way.

Which was the problem. Okay, so Avery hadn't fallen madly in love with her or anything ridiculous, like that, but he did like her quite a bit. It was rather ego-bruising that she didn't appear to return his regard. He'd kind of thought she might, that time he'd kissed her, but nothing had happened at all since. Well, with the exception of seeing her in only a t-shirt or a towel, which was starting to fray Avery's nerves. And, like usual, he thought, sighing, I can't seem to scrape up the emotional maturity to do anything about it. Whee.

*****

It was a really good thing she couldn't focus on her homework anyway. Not that Cypress usually minded Avery's music, but it was a bit of a detriment to her education, at the moment. She couldn't seem to keep her mind from wandering. One of these days it's going to wander off, she thought wryly, and never come back. She chewed on the end of her pen and stared at the page without seeing it. Homework. It was such a normal sort of activity. Far too normal to fit her new persona: that of a genie who is so pathetic, she can barely be out of her "master's" presence for an hour.

Cypress didn't really mind the part where she had to spend so much time around Avery. They was quite nice, actually. But the fact that she had little choice in the matter was irritating. Worse, they now had to lie and sneak around constantly, since there was no way the could possibly explain this to anyone else. The only other person who knew was Cypress' father, and still wasn't sure she was talking to him again. Of course, Avery was doing most of the lying and sneaking, especially to his fiancée. There should be a rule against giving genies to guys who have fiancées, she thought, sighing. Or at least, cute guys who have fiancées.

As if Fate were mocking her, Avery's door opened and he came padding out. At least he turned down his music… Cypress thought, a wee distractedly, admittedly. She was kind of absorbed in watching him walk. He was as graceful as his forest god appearance implied, and there was just something about his hips, when he was standing still. It was utterly ridiculous, really. Guys barely even had hips. Which was maybe part of the problem. There was just something about that sort of slender area… Oh, for cripes sake, Cy, knock it off, she thought, scowling. I'm quite obviously long overdue for getting laid.

"How's the homework?" Avery asked. His voice was partially muffled, because he had his head practically in the refrigerator, trying to scope out some food.

God, he's got a nice butt, Cypress thought. "It's homework," she said out loud. "What do you think?"

"I think you like homework about as much as you like six o'clock in the morning," Avery retorted. When he lifted his head, she saw that he was grinning. "Come on, Cypress, smile. Please?"

She managed a half-smile. "I'll smile more if you make me dinner."

"Oh, sure, I'll do that," Avery said, rolling his eyes. "Tell you what…you conjure up the food, and I'll cook it."

Cypress bit her lip. She didn't really want to get all snippy with him again, but she wasn't too keen on those damnable genie jokes he kept cracking. Most especially because she couldn't conjure food, or at least she hadn't figured out how to. She couldn't do much of anything, in fact. I'd just love to make a ten course meal appear in his kitchen, Cypress thought. That'd wipe that smirk off his face. Except it wasn't a smirk, really, so much as warm, teasing little smile that made her heart flip flop. Which, quite frankly, was worse.

"Hush," she muttered, "or I'll conjure you."

Avery chuckled. "Promises, promises."

He's not supposed to make teasing little innuendoes, Cypress thought, staring hard at the page of her open book. He's supposed to be quiet and sweet, and not make my pulse run an Olympic marathon race. Hadn't he been nothing but quiet and sweet, those first few days? The more Avery got comfortable, having her around, the more he opened up. Cypress couldn't help wondering if he was ever like this around Vivian. No wonder she's on him like white on rice, she thought morosely. I would be too, if he was my fiancée. And, okay, maybe he didn't always seem too happy about having a gorgeous fiancée, but that couldn't be right, could it?

She looked up to see him perched on the coffee table, grinning down at her. Avery held a glass of water and when he raised it to drink, she couldn't help noticing his lips. I'm getting nowhere awfully fucking fast, Cypress thought, dropping her pen and sitting up. Thank god I'm not a guy, or he'd know what I was thinking by now. She sat back on her heels and then hesitated, uncertain what to do now.

"The least you can do is smile for me," Avery said, handing her the glass of water. "I think I deserve that much, what with all the running around I've been doing to protect your cute little genie butt."

"Leave my butt out of this," Cypress retorted, scowling. "I'm certainly not going to smile if you keep making fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you," Avery said. "Oh, come on…don't be so grouchy."

Cypress folded her arms across her chest and glowered at him, feeling rather stubborn. This usually worked on her father—and occasionally her cat, so long as it wasn't time for breakfast—but Avery was undaunted. His gray-green eyes glowing with amusement, he rose from the coffee table and had gotten hold of her before she really knew what was happening. They ended up knocking over the water glass, but Cypress was too busy fighting for her life to notice.

Okay, so that was exaggerating just a bit. In reality she was shrieking her head off and slapping at Avery's hands, trying to get him to stop tickling her. It was such an underhanded attack, she would never have expected it. And apparently her newfound status as a genie didn't lend her any tickle protection. You would think being nearly six feet tall would lend me an edge! Cypress thought, wriggling like a fish on dry land as she tried to pry Avery's fingers away from her sides. But no, it just makes me a bigger target! Of course, one would also think being a perpetual beanpole would help, but that didn't either, apparently.

"Stop!" Cypress cried, trying to elbow him in the stomach and ending up relatively unsuccessful. "Avery, knock it off!"

She wrenched around in his arms, but all she managed was to send them tumbling down onto the couch. Cypress shut her eyes and braced herself, but Avery's hands on her arms kept her from landing too hard. She opened her eyes to stare at him and realized what a compromising position they were in. Worse, there was something rather…exciting, about getting into a tickling/wrestling match with a really cute guy. Maybe this genie stuff isn't so bad after all, Cypress thought, feeling a flush creeping up her cheeks. I mean, if I'm really being honest with myself, it's absolutely wonderful to be living with someone like—

"Avery!"

That sharp voice cut through her thoughts. She recognized it immediately, and judging by the look on Avery's face, so did he. Slowly, like something out of a comedy move, they both turned their heads to look. Neither of them had actually heard the door open—obviously that had happened while she'd been shrieking—but there was Vivian, standing in the doorway, her hands planting on her hips, and looking mightily pissed off. Now would be a very good time to learn how to grant wishes, Cypress thought, swallowing hard. Oh, we are so dead…