| The Good of Wishing |
[Dec. 24th, 2008|12:55 am] |
| [ | How ya feelin', Bee? |
| |  busy | ] |
| [ | Buzzing to |
| | the food network | ] |
Title: The Good of Wishing
Author: ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) talkativebee
Pairing: Jared Padalecki and friends!
Rating: PG-13 for mild language.
Word Count: 3,593
Notes: For the ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) undermistletoe challenge. Prompt: 24 - Someone gets three wishes. Title from the quote, “I wish I knew the good of wishing” by Henry S. Leigh. Thanks to kelex and harlemrain for the help and betaness. ♥ Meant to be light and warm, this is my gift to everyone this holiday season.
It wasn’t unusual for the prop department to have some sort of antique item. Some of the coolest little touches to scenes were some of Jared’s favorite, and the prop guys had found them in a junk shop somewhere in British Columbia. Sometimes they used eBay or a consignment shop in LA.
Jared wasn’t needed on set for a few hours. The perfect solution? Poking around the props department. He was entirely fascinated with the inner workings of film production and Eric had given him free range on peeking over shoulders or stealing glue guns to make his own costumes or, even worse, his own props.
They were breaking for Christmas three days from now and no one wanted to get the hell out of dodge like he did. Without Sandy this year, he was resolved to spend the entire two weeks with his family. Not that he minded his family, but he would have preferred skipping out of San Antonio before New Year’s and spending the rest of the time snoozing in Sandy’s bed in Los Angeles or skiing up in Aspen.
The shelves lining the walls were dusty but well-used. There were boxes of guns and various other weapons. An entire wall was devoted to the large arsenal of “supernatural” items. Ritual candles, iron pentagrams, voodoo dolls, anything Eric might want at some point. These were Jared’s favorite. The history behind most of these items made him think of his own ways the Winchesters would and could use them.
He shifted some things on a shelf, looking for anything new. He sighed and almost gave up when a tarnished metal handle came into view. He yanked at it carefully. To his delight, whatever was attached to the handle dislodged easily. And there it was: an old-fashioned brass oil lamp.
“No way,” he breathed, grinning widely. He pulled down the sleeve on Sam’s jacket, brushing some of the room’s dust off the lamp. There was a pretty design beneath the years of neglect on the brass. Instantly mesmerized, he began to rub more and more until the design was clearly visible.
It was a series of interconnected stars, some Arabic lettering etched on the outside of the pattern. Jared was convinced the harsh fluorescent lighting was playing tricks on him. It was as if the pattern began to spin and swirl, the writing growing brighter and brighter.
“Where are we?” a voice asked. Jared snapped his head up to see a tall, rather muscular man rubbing his bare arms and glancing around. He was barefoot with only a pair of gauzy pants on and brass cuffs at his wrists and ankles.
“Uh. The props department, buddy,” Jared replied with a smile. “Did you take a wrong turn? From wardrobe, the set we’re on today is to the right, not the left.”
The man arched a slim brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “What is a props department?”
Jared grinned and put the lamp back on the shelf, heading towards this poor extra. “C’mon, I’ll take you there. I’m Jared, by the way.” He held out his hand. The man looked at the outstretched hand and back at Jared.
“Jared.” The word sounded foreign on the man’s tongue. “Your wish is my command.” He bowed grandly, keeping himself bent over long after speaking.
Jared looked around, hoping like hell this was some crazy prank from Jensen and Kim and not a stalker coming to murder him and decorate his Christmas tree with Jared’s entrails. “Alright, man, this isn’t funny anymore. Tell Jensen he got me good, okay?”
“Who is Jensen? Why am I funny? I have not told you a joke.”
Jared held up a hand in frustration, putting more distance between him and this freak. He noticed that this guy had a really, really great tan for the middle of December, and homeboy was definitely not used to the chilly air.
“Master, I am your genie.”
That was the first time in Jared’s twenty-six years he had fainted.
~*~
The guy--Alim-Jinn as he demanded Jared call him--followed Jared around all day, all the way back to his house. Jared tried to give him the old bait-and-switch after six hours of this Alim-Jinn character acting like Jared was some king or something. And yet, Alim found him in his truck. Halfway back to his house, Alim produced the lamp and offered to get back inside until Jared summoned him. Fortunately, he could read people well because he shut up about the lamp after Jared glared him down.
When they got in, Jensen was passed out and Cliff, their ever handy bodyguard, had taken the night off. That left Jared and Al, a fancy new nickname considering “Alim” was still too weird, all alone.
“For the last damn time, Al, I am not your master. This isn’t the 1800s, okay. And this is Canada. I don’t think Canadians had slaves.”
“Master Jared, you must understand me. I am your genie.”
“And for the last time, genies don’t exist. Okay? They don’t. They’re fake. They’re big and blue and sound like Robin Williams.”
“Who is Ro—“
“Dude, you have to cut that out. It’s getting really annoying.”
“I apologize, Master Jared.”
“Dude, for real.”
“I apologize.”
Jared huffed and padded into his bedroom to change. Fortunately, Al stayed behind. Jared probably would’ve socked him if he’d try to come in. When he came back out a few minutes later, dressed in sweatpants and an old Longhorns t-shirt, Harley and Sadie were playing with Alim on the floor.
“Hey, don’t do that,” Jared growled, snapping at his dogs. They ignored him and continued rolling around with their new friend. “Great.” He sighed loudly to show his discontent and padded into the kitchen, shoving his head and shoulders into the refrigerator to find something for dinner.
“Master?”
Jared went to turn around to yell at Alim for the trillionth time, but he smacked his head and shuffled backwards, hitting the table and crashing to the ground. “For the love of all that is holy,” Jared moaned as he rubbed the back of his head.
“Master is hurt?”
“Master is gonna kick your ass.” He pulled his hand back and discovered a few small smears of blood. “Oh nice.”
“May I? I have some experience in medicine.” Jared sighed once more and nodded. Alim knelt before him and examined his head. He held his hand over Jared’s head and uttered a few phrases in what he assumed was Arabic.
He suddenly felt better. The ache from hitting his head and falling onto the floor was gone, as well as the sting of cutting himself. “Whoa. What did you do?”
“I told you, Master Jared, I have experience.”
Jared eyed Al carefully, pushing the fridge door shut with his foot. “So…say you are a genie. Do I get three wishes?”
“Yes, Master.” Alim looked delighted that Jared finally believed him. “You receive me for the duration it takes you to ask for three wishes. They may be anything you would like, except you cannot wish for more wishes. Is there someone Master does not like? Alim-Jinn can kill them for you. Is there a pretty girl Master wishes to have as his betrothed? Alim-Jinn can make her fall in love with you.”
Jared’s eyes widened. This was for real. He had a fucking genie. “Whoa.”
Alim sat back, arms crossed over his bare chest once more. “What is Master’s first wish?”
“First, I’m gonna give you a damn shirt to wear. You’re too naked.”
“Master wishes Alim-Jinn to wear more clothing?”
“No, I’m giving you a shirt to wear. You’ll freeze to death.” Jared pushed up off the floor and beckoned Al to follow him. Alim followed him into the bedroom and the dogs followed Alim, keeping close to his heels.
“Master’s companions are very friendly,” Alim said happily, bending down outside the bedroom door to pet both dogs.
“The smaller one is Sadie and the big guy with the floppy ears is Harley,” Jared answered over his shoulder, taking an old Hooters t-shirt Chad had given him as a present and a pair of thick socks, tossing them at Al.
Al caught the clothing and put the shirt on. “What are these?” he asked, holding up the ball of socks.
“Socks. They’re like…foot coverings.” Clearly, Jared should write an encyclopedia.
“Foot coverings.” Alim pointed at Jared’s own socked feet.
“Yeah, they’re like slippers.” Jared sat on his bed and took his sock off, then put it back on to demonstrate.
Alim sat on the floor and did the same. Harley stuck his nose in Alim’s face and sniffed before licking a broad stripe up his cheek.
Jared groaned and sighed, putting his hands on his hips. This was going to be a long wish period.
~*~
The first wish was a steak dinner. Jared was trying like hell to avoid Al, but he popped up everywhere. Fortunately, he seemed to gather that Jared didn’t want some crazy Arabian man in a Hooter shirt, Converse instead of socks, and chick pants to be following him around all day and all night.
After a long day of shooting and still trying to wrap his mind around this genie thing, Jared gave in and asked for his steak dinner, just to test the waters. Alim didn’t nod like Barbara Eden’s Jeannie, wiggle his nose like Elizabeth Montgomery’s Samantha, or sing elaborate songs like Robin Williams did in Aladdin. Rather, he simply clapped his hands, uttered a few words, and the spread just sort of materialized on the kitchen table.
“No fuckin’ way,” Jared breathed, eyes wide as the candles lit themselves, his wine glass filled automatically, and butter melted over his baked potato. “Holy shit.”
“Master is pleased,” Alim observed with a carefully controlled smile.
Jared cut into the steak and ate the first bite cautiously. It was the best damn steak he ever had. “Master is so very, very pleased,” he answered.
Al just nodded with the same small smile and bowed out graciously to let Jared eat. And Jared, he started to believe in genies.
~*~
The second wish came out of nowhere. Jared, well aware that he could be stuck with this dude for a long time, thought pretty hard about his wishes. He curiously asked Jensen, Kim, Eric, Chad, Tom, and anyone else who would listen what their three wishes would be. The answers were pretty generic, stuff you’d hear on the Miss America Pageant, save for Chad’s wish for Kenzie to suddenly come with a twin. He packed Alim in his lamp, stuffing it in his suitcase between layers of clothing, and didn’t think about him again as he left the house with Cliff.
He was in the Vancouver airport, saying goodbye to Jensen as they headed in different directions. Jensen was on his way to Louisiana to see Danneel’s family for Christmas and Jared was headed to San Antonio, dogs in tow. As usual of this time of year, the airport was busy, crowded, and overrun with forced holiday cheer.
When he finally got near the baggage check, he glanced around, his gaze ending up on a harried woman with two hyperactive toddlers and a crying baby, begging for one more seat on her flight home. “Please,” she asked once more, panic rising in her voice. “I need to get home.”
“Ma’am, I cannot help you,” the attendant said for what Jared assumed was the fiftieth time. “There are simply no more seats on the flight.” The woman asked again, her baby wailing louder and her toddlers wandering away from her to try and climb over the scale and into the baggage carousel.
This lady, whoever she was, had a handful to deal with. The airport was already hectic, but for Jared, the center of the chaos was this woman’s distress. He would offer to pay for the ticket, spread some holiday cheer, but he simply could not change seating. Or could he?
Suddenly, Jared thought of his second wish, bending down to reach into his bag for the lamp. He pretended to move things around, but he rubbed the lamp a few times. He stood back up, casually looking around at the chaos for some sign of Alim.
Then his phone buzzed on his hip. He arched a brow at the number: 1-254-654-6608. Against his better judgment, he answered. “Hello?”
“Hello Master, it is Alim-Jinn!”
“You…have a cell phone number. It only figures.”
“No, Master. Alim-Jinn used his magic to speak with you.”
“Through…my cell phone.”
“With magic, yes.”
“Right.”
“Master called for Alim-Jinn?”
“Yeah. I wish that woman gets a safe trip home.”
Alim was quiet for a few seconds. “It is done, Master.”
“Thanks, Al.”
“Alim-Jinn will return to his lamp now.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” Jared hung up, categorizing the phone call as one of the top three weirdest moments in his life. Nothing could top Chad’s antics in Australia. Nothing.
As he refocused on the situation at hand, the attendant’s eyes widened. “Well, ma’am, it appears we do have another seat opening. Right next to yours. Someone must have cancelled.”
The woman sighed happily, her chin wobbling as if she were about to cry. “Thank you. Thank you so much!”
“Here are your tickets. Head right to security.”
The woman collected her children, since calmed down, and hurried off to security. Jared stepped up to the open kiosk and smiled warmly, handing over his ticket information and license. He certainly felt better about this trip.
~*~
It was Christmas Eve. Jared sighed as he trudged up to his old bedroom at his parents’ house. It hadn’t changed much since he left. In fact, it was exactly the same, down to the poster of Shaq he kept on the back of his door.
Christmas was always full of loud family and too much food, but it was well worth it. After church and Christmas Eve dinner, his family usually went on a drive around town to look at Christmas lights. Fortunately, he had a few minutes to spare, checking his email and voicemail from his phone.
Jensen and Danneel had gotten into a fight right before Jensen was going to propose and the poor guy had texted Jared at least ten times expressing his misery. Chad, on the other hand, had sent Jared a rather lengthy, curse-filled email about how Kenzie’s great-aunt actually spit into a napkin and wiped some smudge off his cheek. It was entirely too amusing.
“Well FINE,” Jared’s sister screamed, slamming her door shut. A second later, she opened it again to shout, “And you’ve got a small dick!” Fighting with her boyfriend. Again. Whomever this new kid was, he sighed deeply and knocked on the door, pleading quietly for Megan to let him in.
Times like this, Jared missed Sandy the most. She would call Jensen to console him or go offer to paint Megan’s toenails as she cooled off. Jared had nothing to offer.
He pushed up off the bed and took out Alim’s lamp, rubbing the side gently. Alim appeared in his Hooters shirt and socks again, gazing around the room. “Where are we, Master?”
“My parents’ house. This is my old room.” He sat on the bed and nodded with his chin to the comforter. “Have a seat.”
Alim sat down, legs crossed over each other perfectly with his hands resting on his knees. “Master looks concerned.”
“A little bit.”
“Master has one wish left. Master can get whatever he wants,” Al reminded him, tilting his head to the side.
Jared stared back at Alim, chewing on his thumb nail. “What do the markings on your lamp mean?”
Alim conjured the lamp to him, holding it delicately. “The stars represent equality. The points of each star are equal in size and length, radiating from a central point.” He waved his hand over the lamp, and the star pattern lit up, circling and spinning comfortingly.
“And the words?”
“In Arabic, they mean, ‘Alim the djinn resides here. He will be free at his master’s will.’ It is the words that bind me to this lamp.” He waved his hand again, the words glowing calmly. “After each master gets his three wishes, Alim-Jinn goes back into the lamp and cannot come out until he has a new master.”
Jared nodded as he listened, taking a pillow and plunking it in his lap so he could toy with a fraying thread on the pillowcase. “How many masters were there before me?”
“Thousands.”
“And how can a master release you?”
“Master must wish for it. But no master ever wishes to release Alim-Jinn.” A chill ran through Jared’s blood, making him entirely too uneasy. This poor guy was sealed inside a dingy oil lamp to cater to whatever jerk rubbed the metal. But what bothered Jared more was that Al seemed perfectly okay with it.
“And what do you wish for, Alim?”
“What any djinn wishes for, Master Jared.” He paused, setting the lamp between them. “To be free.”
Downstairs, the dog barked and laughter bubbled up the stairs. Megan and her boyfriend were still arguing. Deep inside, Jared knew Jensen and Chad were just as miserable. He even wondered what Sandy was doing this holiday, with no family to go to. He felt absolutely awful.
“JT,” his mother called amid the racket. “We’re goin’ drivin’ now!”
Jared looked at the door, then back to Alim. “Is there a way I can contact you while I’m out? My family wouldn’t be okay with the whole lamp thing.”
Alim smiled his mysterious smile and conjured a small metal coin, letting it float before Jared. “Rub Alim-Jinn’s coin, Master, and speak your wish. Alim will let it be done.”
“Thanks.” Jared took the coin and looked down at it, noting the familiar star pattern and Arabic script.
“Master has thought of his third wish?”
“I think so,” Jared answered as he got up to slip into his boots and put his jacket on. “And Al?”
“Yes, Master?”
“Thanks again.”
“What is Master thankful for?”
“You.” Jared left Alim staring after him with a perplexed look, knocking on his sister’s door to call her to go downstairs.
The drive around San Antonio was pretty and soothing, as it was every year. He was in the car with his parents, both his brother and sister choosing to ride in the same car with their significant others and Jeff’s daughter. He wasn’t as sad anymore as he looked at the lights and peeking into homes to see families sharing presents or relaxing by their Christmas trees.
Jared’s father stopped the car on a block to point out a particularly elaborate yet classy arrangement of lights. As Jared gazed upon the display, he took Al’s coin out of his pocket, turning it over and over in his fingers. He nodded once and breathed out softly.
“Whatcha thinkin’, JT?” his mother asked from the passenger seat with a smile.
Jared rubbed the coin, taking a deep breath. “I wish everyone got to be happy for the holidays. Everyone, including people who think they’re locked in.”
Jared’s father voiced his agreement immediately, giving Jared enough time to whisper, “And Alim, too. He gets his freedom.”
The rest of the drive was full of laughter and general cheer. Jared, however, didn’t hang around his kitchen when they got home. He rushed upstairs to see if Alim was still there.
The lamp was gone. Jared frowned deeply, looking all over his room for it. His phone buzzed on his hip. A text message from Jensen: We made up. And we’re engaged! Jared smiled and replied back, sending his congratulations.
Then Chad called, grumping about how his sister was annoying him and Kenzie was too busy watching his brothers play video games to bother to sneak off to make out somewhere.
Even Megan and her boy toy snuck into her room, shutting the door with a soft click to do nefarious things.
Yes, all was right with the world. Jared felt better, even texting Sandra to see how she was. She answered back almost immediately, saying she was spending time with a roommate’s family and enjoying herself. She wished him a merry Christmas, too.
Jared lay back on his bed and smiled at the ceiling. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep and dreaming, clothes still on.
When he woke up, the smell of coffee and pancakes filled the air. To his shock and surprise, he was still clutching the magic coin, the metal warm and the face imprinted in his palm. He practically bounded downstairs, plunking at the kitchen table to eat his share before Megan got up.
“Well you’re happy this morning,” Jared’s mother said with a smile as she poured him a fresh cup of coffee. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas, Mama!” Jared stirred some sugar into his cup.
“What’s got you so smiley?”
“I had a dream about this guy named Al who was trapped, but I set him free.” Jared speared a few pancakes from a platter and dropped them onto his plate. “We were in the desert and he was like a slave or somethin’ and we were walking and he thanked me for his rescue and then, like, he just walked off into the sunset and disappeared.”
His mother chuckled and set the syrup at his elbow, kissing his shaggy head. “You been readin’ too many of Eric’s scripts.”
Jared just smiled and poured syrup on his pancakes. “If only.” |
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