Badfic Challenge by Loz...
Title: The Genius and the Genie
Author: Loz - lozenger8
Prompt: When Fraser picks up a dented bottle on the side of the road, Ray figures he's just being Canadian and doesn't pay much attention. But when he whips out a handkerchief to "polish it up a little", rather than sending the mud flying... a swarm of fog comes streaming from the top and resolves itself into a young Persian man. A young, attractive Persian man who's all too willing to answer Fraser's every personal whim. Can Ray swallow his envy as sparks fly? Can this genie really be put back into the bottle? Are there limits to his powers and what happens when Turnbull accidently gains possession of the Olde Artifact in question. STAY TUNED!
Prompt written by: shihadchick
Rating/warnings/etc: PG? I never know ratings.
Word Count: Approximately 2000 words.
P.S, I'm SO sorry, but I had no idea the deadline would be so soon, and I was without Livejournal for 11 days, which meant I wrote this in 3 hours and didn't give it the justice it deserved. It was a great prompt.
The day started out normally enough. Ray’s intuition wasn’t doing backflips or anything, it was just another endanger-your-life-in-wildly-bizarre-ways kind of morning.
See, they’d been on the trail of these two smugglers. Welsh had ordered a simple recon mission with the hopes of getting enough evidence to bring these guys down. That had been the plan. Ray had said maybe undercover would work better. Welsh had said undercover was too dangerous, and who’d want an undercover undercover you know? Ray had said he’d already done the double undercover thing, what, twice already? Welsh had given him the stare down and that had been that. No more arguments, Ray would do as he was told, yes Sir, three bags full Sir.
So there they had been, Ray and the Big Red, crouched behind a car far too beautiful for shield work. Ray had been glad Dief was back at the Consulate, because he hadn’t been sure he could handle another potential warning signal.
“Fraser, couldn’t you have come casual?”
“Ray, I wasn’t aware our surveillance would be conducted within such a short distance. I would have packed some clothes if you had warned me.”
Ray hadn’t been positive, but everything in Fraser’s body language had been saying he was pissed off. There was this edge to his voice, a gruffness that usually only appeared when he was getting a massage or a blowjob or when he was under some other intense physical strain.
“Okay, sorry. Just… you stick out like a sore thumb, you know?”
“I’ll take my tunic off.”
“I’ll give you my shirt.”
“I doubt it would fit, Ray. Your frame is thinner than mine.”
“What’re you saying? I’m not as muscular as you?”
“No, Ray, I’m saying you don’t have the same width across the back or the shoulders.”
“I’m not as strong as you?”
“Ray.”
“Is that it?”
“Ray.”
“Huh?”
“Ray.”
“Like I couldn’t take you down?”
“Ray.”
“I could, I totally could.”
“Ray.”
“I already have, remember? The other night? Didn’t hear you complaining about me being thinner then.”
“Ray.”
“What, Fraser? Gonna apologise now?”
“There’s activity up ahead. Two men shifting an item which looks relatively suspicious.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah. Okay. Um. Camera?”
Ray had grabbed the camera, fumbled with it a bit, managed to get it to work just as the white van had gone hightailing it outta there.
“Great, just great. Greatness. What’re you doing? You’re picking up their trash, Fraser? Oh man. I knew you were all neatfreaks up be tutoyukyuk or wherever, but really, I mean, come on, Fraser.”
Fraser had been picking up something, but trash? Ray was soon to discover that this wasn’t quite it.
Fraser held it in his hands, this ornate but dented container. Pink, blue, purple, with gilt artistry and a coating of mud. Fraser rubbed at it with the corner of a handkerchief he kept in his stetson, and Ray was transfixed by the motion of his fingers as he polished the bottle to an iridescent glow.
The bottle jerked suddenly out of Fraser’s hand. It landed on the ground again, upright like a guard. Out the top, a thin purple whisp of steam appeared. The thin whisp soon turned into a billow. The billow into a swarm. Until Ray and Fraser were coughing and unable to see. When the fog cleared, the bottle was there, looking relatively innocuous, and a man was there as well.
He had dark shoulder-length brown hair and black glittering eyes. His attire was silken and billowed in the slight breeze which surrounded them, deep purple trousers like those ones Ray used to scoff at in the Ice Ice Baby music video and an ornate waistjacket which could belong to a circus monkey.
“How may I serve you?” He was looking at Fraser with a white smile.
“Serve me? Well, how do you mean?” Fraser asked.
“Your wish is my command.”
“Okay Buddy. Nice try. We’re cops, you’re not going to con us so easily.” Ray pushed forward and tried to poke him in the chest, but this guy wasn’t getting poked. Ray’s finger just went right through.
“He’s a genie, Ray!” Fraser was excited.
Oh yeah, the day started out normally enough. It just quickly escalated to ridiculous heights, that’s all.
**
Ray wanted to go back to the precinct. They’d have this sorted out in no time. The genie’d be put back into his bottle and they’d store the damn thing in evidence. Fraser didn’t seem to agree.
“We’re going back to the Consulate, Ray.”
“Fraser, I don’t trust this guy,” Ray whispered.
“I can hear you!” the Genie said with a smile. “Let me assure you, you have no need to doubt or mistrust me. I serve my master the best I can and wish none of you any harm.”
“What is your name?” Fraser asked.
“I have no name. I am genii, that is all.”
“We’ll call you Eric, then, if you don’t mind? I don’t think I can introduce you to Inspector Thatcher as a Genie.”
“We’re going back to the dragon lady? Fraser! She’s gonna have you on toast.”
“This Inspector Thatcher has a dragon? How charming. I have not ridden on a dragon since what I believe you call 200 BC.”
“Ray, Inspector Thatcher might know what to do.”
“How can she if you don’t tell her what’s going on?” Ray crossed his arms and frowned at Fraser.
“Ray, I’m not going to argue with you on this anymore. I wish you’d just do as I ask.”
“Your wish is my command!” Ray muttered. He silently started the car and began driving Fraser and Eric to the Consulate.
Fraser and Eric chatted amiably on the ride over as Fraser examined the ornate and ostensibly magic bottle. Eric said he was sworn to secrecy on most of what Fraser asked him, but Fraser explained that he first came to Chicago on the trail of of the killers of his father and for reasons that, well, didn’t need exploring at that juncture, remained attached as liaison with the Canadian Consulate. They got there just in time for the end of Fraser’s speech, and Ray got out and opened the door for his passengers.
“Ray, could you wait here for a moment, please?”
Ray waited with arms crossed.
“Alright Ray, it’s safe to come in. Inspector Thatcher is out with a foreign dignitary. Turnbull couldn’t remember which one.”
Ray walked into the Consulate with arms crossed.
“How about you and Eric partake in some bark tea whilst I discuss the matter with Turnbull?”
Ray attempted to drink bark tea with arms crossed, but discovered it was easier uncrossing them.
He glowered at Eric. Pretty Eric with his pretty early 1990s clothes and his pretty manners and his pretty white smile.
“D’you ever see I Dream of Jeannie?” Ray asked after a moment.
“I do not understand the question,” was the response.
Ray wanted to go back to the precinct, but he couldn’t go back to the precinct, so he stayed in the Consulate. With his arms crossed.
**
Okay, so Ray didn’t think Fraser would ever abuse any power given to him. He never was given much power, especially from the dragon lady, but Ray felt sure that if he was, he wouldn’t abuse it. However, here Fraser was, and he’d just wished Inspector Thatcher back in the Consulate. He’d wished that Inspector Thatcher could understand what was going on and not be mad. Then he’d wished for a glass of brandy. And Ray thought he was about to wish that Ray would stop looking so annoyed at everything, because he’d gazed at him with big blue Mountie eyes imploringly.
“I don’t like this, Fraser.”
“What’s not to like, Ray?”
Everything. Ray didn’t like the way Eric kept staring at Fraser, hungry, like Dief after a donut. Ray didn’t like how Dief himself seemed to love Eric, and was attempting to lick him from head to toe. Ray didn’t like how pleased Fraser was to have a Genie, or how ready he was to assume the role of Master, or how he himself kept doing everything Fraser asked, even though he didn’t want to. He didn’t like the situation one bit. But Ray didn’t say anything. He just stood there, waiting. Fraser and Thatcher had quietly heated discussions, the only words of which Ray heard were ‘idiot’, ‘travesty’ and ‘sort’.
“Eric, do you know anything about how your vessel ended up on Wecker Street” Fraser asked when everyone was seated in the sitting room.
“Why yes, I know everything which goes around about my abode. If I did not, I would not be a very good Genie. I was taken there by two heavy-set men, one by the name of Brough, the other by the name of Hills. I believe they were conducting illegal activity. Mine was not the only vessel there. There were many other artifacts from my homeland of what you often refer to as Persia. Old, like mine. It is these things which you are interested in, yes?”
Fraser appeared to digest this information. Ray knew he was thinking about the best way to go about things. Maybe he liked everything the way it was. Ray couldn’t be sure just what Fraser was thinking.
“I wish to have the two criminals in custody, as well as the items they were smuggling, please Eric.”
A second later, Ray found himself handcuffing a man. He was surprised, he didn’t think Fraser would ask for it this quickly. He seemed to be enjoying himself with Eric far too much. All smiles, and cheerful polite requests and pure animated joy.
“I wish for these criminals, these items, Ray and myself to be down at the 27th precinct, please Eric,” Fraser said next, and sure enough, there they were, hauling the Smugglers and their illegally acquired possessions through the doors and to the jail cells and evidence lockers.
“There we go, Ray. A case solved after a hard day’s work.” Fraser’s grin was wide and slightly maniacal. Ray narrowed his eyes.
“Were you always going to wish for that?”
“Of course.”
“You could change your whole life, Fraser. Don’t you wanna be back in Canada, with the cabin you always dreamed of and enough pemmican and bark tea to last you your whole life?”
“No, Ray. I don’t.”
“You’re a strange man, Benton Fraser.”
“Could you drive us back to the Consulate, please, Ray?”
Okay, so Ray didn’t think Fraser would ever abuse any power given to him, it’s just that he kind of hoped he might. After all, there were all kinds of things Fraser could wish for. Maybe he’d take requests?
**
Back at the Consulate things were not quite right. Inspector Thatcher was wearing a belly dancer’s costume and doing an elaborate dance. A person who appeared to be the Queen was sitting with a corgi in her lap in the front room, and Turnbull had somehow managed to find a way to make Eric material. Ray was all kinds of alarmed, but Fraser simply looked amused.
“Turnbull, if you could pull yourself away a minute…”
Turnbull looked at Fraser sheepishly.
“I’m sorry, Constable. I noticed some grit on the bottle, I started to clear it away and Eric said I was his new master. I suppose I could give it back to you if you’d just let me have four more wishes?”
“I don’t mind, Turnbull. Any wish I could had asked from Eric has been fulfilled. I was just going to ask if you could hold any calls for me. Detective Vecchio and myself are going to be occupied for a while.”
“With pleasure, Constable.”
“Considerable pleasure,” chimed in Eric with a swish.
“Ray, would you accompany me upstairs?”
Back at the Consulate things were not quite right, but, hey, Ray wasn’t going to start complaining. He was just going to do what Fraser asked him to do… as long as his partner would return the favour.
Author: Loz - lozenger8
Prompt: When Fraser picks up a dented bottle on the side of the road, Ray figures he's just being Canadian and doesn't pay much attention. But when he whips out a handkerchief to "polish it up a little", rather than sending the mud flying... a swarm of fog comes streaming from the top and resolves itself into a young Persian man. A young, attractive Persian man who's all too willing to answer Fraser's every personal whim. Can Ray swallow his envy as sparks fly? Can this genie really be put back into the bottle? Are there limits to his powers and what happens when Turnbull accidently gains possession of the Olde Artifact in question. STAY TUNED!
Prompt written by: shihadchick
Rating/warnings/etc: PG? I never know ratings.
Word Count: Approximately 2000 words.
P.S, I'm SO sorry, but I had no idea the deadline would be so soon, and I was without Livejournal for 11 days, which meant I wrote this in 3 hours and didn't give it the justice it deserved. It was a great prompt.
The day started out normally enough. Ray’s intuition wasn’t doing backflips or anything, it was just another endanger-your-life-in-wildly-bizarre-ways kind of morning.
See, they’d been on the trail of these two smugglers. Welsh had ordered a simple recon mission with the hopes of getting enough evidence to bring these guys down. That had been the plan. Ray had said maybe undercover would work better. Welsh had said undercover was too dangerous, and who’d want an undercover undercover you know? Ray had said he’d already done the double undercover thing, what, twice already? Welsh had given him the stare down and that had been that. No more arguments, Ray would do as he was told, yes Sir, three bags full Sir.
So there they had been, Ray and the Big Red, crouched behind a car far too beautiful for shield work. Ray had been glad Dief was back at the Consulate, because he hadn’t been sure he could handle another potential warning signal.
“Fraser, couldn’t you have come casual?”
“Ray, I wasn’t aware our surveillance would be conducted within such a short distance. I would have packed some clothes if you had warned me.”
Ray hadn’t been positive, but everything in Fraser’s body language had been saying he was pissed off. There was this edge to his voice, a gruffness that usually only appeared when he was getting a massage or a blowjob or when he was under some other intense physical strain.
“Okay, sorry. Just… you stick out like a sore thumb, you know?”
“I’ll take my tunic off.”
“I’ll give you my shirt.”
“I doubt it would fit, Ray. Your frame is thinner than mine.”
“What’re you saying? I’m not as muscular as you?”
“No, Ray, I’m saying you don’t have the same width across the back or the shoulders.”
“I’m not as strong as you?”
“Ray.”
“Is that it?”
“Ray.”
“Huh?”
“Ray.”
“Like I couldn’t take you down?”
“Ray.”
“I could, I totally could.”
“Ray.”
“I already have, remember? The other night? Didn’t hear you complaining about me being thinner then.”
“Ray.”
“What, Fraser? Gonna apologise now?”
“There’s activity up ahead. Two men shifting an item which looks relatively suspicious.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah. Okay. Um. Camera?”
Ray had grabbed the camera, fumbled with it a bit, managed to get it to work just as the white van had gone hightailing it outta there.
“Great, just great. Greatness. What’re you doing? You’re picking up their trash, Fraser? Oh man. I knew you were all neatfreaks up be tutoyukyuk or wherever, but really, I mean, come on, Fraser.”
Fraser had been picking up something, but trash? Ray was soon to discover that this wasn’t quite it.
Fraser held it in his hands, this ornate but dented container. Pink, blue, purple, with gilt artistry and a coating of mud. Fraser rubbed at it with the corner of a handkerchief he kept in his stetson, and Ray was transfixed by the motion of his fingers as he polished the bottle to an iridescent glow.
The bottle jerked suddenly out of Fraser’s hand. It landed on the ground again, upright like a guard. Out the top, a thin purple whisp of steam appeared. The thin whisp soon turned into a billow. The billow into a swarm. Until Ray and Fraser were coughing and unable to see. When the fog cleared, the bottle was there, looking relatively innocuous, and a man was there as well.
He had dark shoulder-length brown hair and black glittering eyes. His attire was silken and billowed in the slight breeze which surrounded them, deep purple trousers like those ones Ray used to scoff at in the Ice Ice Baby music video and an ornate waistjacket which could belong to a circus monkey.
“How may I serve you?” He was looking at Fraser with a white smile.
“Serve me? Well, how do you mean?” Fraser asked.
“Your wish is my command.”
“Okay Buddy. Nice try. We’re cops, you’re not going to con us so easily.” Ray pushed forward and tried to poke him in the chest, but this guy wasn’t getting poked. Ray’s finger just went right through.
“He’s a genie, Ray!” Fraser was excited.
Oh yeah, the day started out normally enough. It just quickly escalated to ridiculous heights, that’s all.
**
Ray wanted to go back to the precinct. They’d have this sorted out in no time. The genie’d be put back into his bottle and they’d store the damn thing in evidence. Fraser didn’t seem to agree.
“We’re going back to the Consulate, Ray.”
“Fraser, I don’t trust this guy,” Ray whispered.
“I can hear you!” the Genie said with a smile. “Let me assure you, you have no need to doubt or mistrust me. I serve my master the best I can and wish none of you any harm.”
“What is your name?” Fraser asked.
“I have no name. I am genii, that is all.”
“We’ll call you Eric, then, if you don’t mind? I don’t think I can introduce you to Inspector Thatcher as a Genie.”
“We’re going back to the dragon lady? Fraser! She’s gonna have you on toast.”
“This Inspector Thatcher has a dragon? How charming. I have not ridden on a dragon since what I believe you call 200 BC.”
“Ray, Inspector Thatcher might know what to do.”
“How can she if you don’t tell her what’s going on?” Ray crossed his arms and frowned at Fraser.
“Ray, I’m not going to argue with you on this anymore. I wish you’d just do as I ask.”
“Your wish is my command!” Ray muttered. He silently started the car and began driving Fraser and Eric to the Consulate.
Fraser and Eric chatted amiably on the ride over as Fraser examined the ornate and ostensibly magic bottle. Eric said he was sworn to secrecy on most of what Fraser asked him, but Fraser explained that he first came to Chicago on the trail of of the killers of his father and for reasons that, well, didn’t need exploring at that juncture, remained attached as liaison with the Canadian Consulate. They got there just in time for the end of Fraser’s speech, and Ray got out and opened the door for his passengers.
“Ray, could you wait here for a moment, please?”
Ray waited with arms crossed.
“Alright Ray, it’s safe to come in. Inspector Thatcher is out with a foreign dignitary. Turnbull couldn’t remember which one.”
Ray walked into the Consulate with arms crossed.
“How about you and Eric partake in some bark tea whilst I discuss the matter with Turnbull?”
Ray attempted to drink bark tea with arms crossed, but discovered it was easier uncrossing them.
He glowered at Eric. Pretty Eric with his pretty early 1990s clothes and his pretty manners and his pretty white smile.
“D’you ever see I Dream of Jeannie?” Ray asked after a moment.
“I do not understand the question,” was the response.
Ray wanted to go back to the precinct, but he couldn’t go back to the precinct, so he stayed in the Consulate. With his arms crossed.
**
Okay, so Ray didn’t think Fraser would ever abuse any power given to him. He never was given much power, especially from the dragon lady, but Ray felt sure that if he was, he wouldn’t abuse it. However, here Fraser was, and he’d just wished Inspector Thatcher back in the Consulate. He’d wished that Inspector Thatcher could understand what was going on and not be mad. Then he’d wished for a glass of brandy. And Ray thought he was about to wish that Ray would stop looking so annoyed at everything, because he’d gazed at him with big blue Mountie eyes imploringly.
“I don’t like this, Fraser.”
“What’s not to like, Ray?”
Everything. Ray didn’t like the way Eric kept staring at Fraser, hungry, like Dief after a donut. Ray didn’t like how Dief himself seemed to love Eric, and was attempting to lick him from head to toe. Ray didn’t like how pleased Fraser was to have a Genie, or how ready he was to assume the role of Master, or how he himself kept doing everything Fraser asked, even though he didn’t want to. He didn’t like the situation one bit. But Ray didn’t say anything. He just stood there, waiting. Fraser and Thatcher had quietly heated discussions, the only words of which Ray heard were ‘idiot’, ‘travesty’ and ‘sort’.
“Eric, do you know anything about how your vessel ended up on Wecker Street” Fraser asked when everyone was seated in the sitting room.
“Why yes, I know everything which goes around about my abode. If I did not, I would not be a very good Genie. I was taken there by two heavy-set men, one by the name of Brough, the other by the name of Hills. I believe they were conducting illegal activity. Mine was not the only vessel there. There were many other artifacts from my homeland of what you often refer to as Persia. Old, like mine. It is these things which you are interested in, yes?”
Fraser appeared to digest this information. Ray knew he was thinking about the best way to go about things. Maybe he liked everything the way it was. Ray couldn’t be sure just what Fraser was thinking.
“I wish to have the two criminals in custody, as well as the items they were smuggling, please Eric.”
A second later, Ray found himself handcuffing a man. He was surprised, he didn’t think Fraser would ask for it this quickly. He seemed to be enjoying himself with Eric far too much. All smiles, and cheerful polite requests and pure animated joy.
“I wish for these criminals, these items, Ray and myself to be down at the 27th precinct, please Eric,” Fraser said next, and sure enough, there they were, hauling the Smugglers and their illegally acquired possessions through the doors and to the jail cells and evidence lockers.
“There we go, Ray. A case solved after a hard day’s work.” Fraser’s grin was wide and slightly maniacal. Ray narrowed his eyes.
“Were you always going to wish for that?”
“Of course.”
“You could change your whole life, Fraser. Don’t you wanna be back in Canada, with the cabin you always dreamed of and enough pemmican and bark tea to last you your whole life?”
“No, Ray. I don’t.”
“You’re a strange man, Benton Fraser.”
“Could you drive us back to the Consulate, please, Ray?”
Okay, so Ray didn’t think Fraser would ever abuse any power given to him, it’s just that he kind of hoped he might. After all, there were all kinds of things Fraser could wish for. Maybe he’d take requests?
**
Back at the Consulate things were not quite right. Inspector Thatcher was wearing a belly dancer’s costume and doing an elaborate dance. A person who appeared to be the Queen was sitting with a corgi in her lap in the front room, and Turnbull had somehow managed to find a way to make Eric material. Ray was all kinds of alarmed, but Fraser simply looked amused.
“Turnbull, if you could pull yourself away a minute…”
Turnbull looked at Fraser sheepishly.
“I’m sorry, Constable. I noticed some grit on the bottle, I started to clear it away and Eric said I was his new master. I suppose I could give it back to you if you’d just let me have four more wishes?”
“I don’t mind, Turnbull. Any wish I could had asked from Eric has been fulfilled. I was just going to ask if you could hold any calls for me. Detective Vecchio and myself are going to be occupied for a while.”
“With pleasure, Constable.”
“Considerable pleasure,” chimed in Eric with a swish.
“Ray, would you accompany me upstairs?”
Back at the Consulate things were not quite right, but, hey, Ray wasn’t going to start complaining. He was just going to do what Fraser asked him to do… as long as his partner would return the favour.