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Vanya didn’t really consider herself a particularly sentimental person.
Yes, she kept some things- books, photos, souvenirs from days she didn’t want to forget. But her apartment wasn’t big enough to keep useless and unsentimental junk around. Generally, when things stopped serving a purpose, or she couldn’t find a place to put it, or she couldn’t remember where it was from, Vanya threw it out. It was as simple as that.
Unfortunately, Allison didn’t seem to have the same problem- she was a pack rat.
Which meant that for all the shit Vanya discarded over the course of a few years, Allison had kept everything, packaged up in storage. And usually, this would have been all very well and good- Vanya shuddered to think at the mess, but it wasn’t her problem- if Allison hadn’t decided to move in with her boyfriend.
As it turned out, moving five years’ worth of crap was really a job for more than a one person job. So, Allison enlisted her best friends to come help. Which, in hindsight, was a bad idea to begin with.
It took a way longer than it should have to box up or donate all her things- mostly because despite having been friends for ever, both Vanya and Klaus had no idea how Allison had managed to accrue so much crap.
Admittedly, it didn’t help that Klaus did very little except rummage through Allison’s things and ask questions, which then distracted Allison.
“Allison where did you even get a Persian rug from?” Klaus asked, fascinated, as he pulled the offending article from an open box.
Allison frowned in a lack of remembrance, before seeing the pattern and grinning. “Oh, I remember that! It was from the one with the sale- half-off on all rugs. You know, the one that’s perpetually closing down?”
“Did you mean every store that specialises in rugs?” Vanya asked, deadpan, from her position on the couch, having given up on the endeavour of sorting through Allison’s stuff about twenty minutes ago.
“The one near your office?” Klaus asked, ignoring Vanya’s interjection.
“That’s the one,” Allison confirmed. “Do you like it?”
“’Do I like it?’ It’s hideous! I love it! Can I take it home with me?” Klaus was delighted.
“Sure, I think I have some more behind all those CDs if you want to take a look.”
Vanya snorted, idly flicking through one of the books she had found earlier. “Allison, wouldn’t it be easier to talk about if you want all of this stuff with your boyfriend? I mean, you are moving in with him. You guys might need a Persian rug.”
(Vanya had to wonder if anyone ever actually needed a Persian rug.)
“Ray and I really want to get some new stuff for our apartment, and I’m not sure if any of this would fit with the décor. And after that whole thing with Luther, I want to make sure that if anything goes wrong it won’t get too messy.”
Vanya and Klaus exchanged a look; Allison was clearly still looking for closure on her ex, Luther, even if she was in love with Ray. But Luther was yet to pull his act together and Ray was good for Allison- and maybe Allison really just needed some time. It wasn’t their place to say.
Trying to break the awkward silence that had unconsciously fallen across them, Klaus plucked a dull metal ornament out from under a pile of old clothes. “What’s this, Allison?”
Allison rose from where she was examining old photographs to awkwardly shuffle (in heels!) around the other boxed up remnants of her past to pluck the object out of Klaus’ hands. She hummed thoughtfully, even as her brow creased.
“I don’t think I remember this one.”
Vanya’s head jerked up in surprise.
In the three hours they’d been doing this- having made very little headway- that was a first.
Allison seemed to remember every item having the upmost importance to her life now. And yet, this one she couldn’t recall- not even what it was, much less where she bought it from. Hell, Allison remembered the skirt she wore on her first day of college and the colour of the drapes from her grandmother’s house, but not this old and expensive-looking heirloom.
“Do you want it?” Allison was asking Klaus, raising her eyebrows.
“It’s not really my style, it’s too old… hey Vanya, you want a vintage metal thing?”
“Replacing the word ‘old’ with ‘vintage’ doesn’t automatically make it worth more,” Vanya raised an eyebrow at Klaus even as she sat up. “What is it?”
“I think it’s an oil lamp. Maybe I bought it from a flea market?”
Allison passed it to Vanya, who scrunched her nose a little. It wasn’t exactly something she would pick for herself- it was a little too grand and gaudy for her tastes.
“I’m not so sure about it. Are you sure you don’t want to donate it?”
“Nope Vanya, think of this as my gift to you. Maybe it’ll bring you luck. Or, at the very least, some character to your apartment,” Klaus grinned as he deposited the lamp into Vanya’s lap.
And despite her mild protesting, hours later- after packing up the last few bits and pieces of Allison’s- Vanya found herself leaving with the lamp safely tucked into her bag.
-
A few weeks later, Vanya still hadn’t found it in herself to throw the lamp out. Somehow, she felt bad about getting rid of an artifact that must have been well-loved a long while ago.
So she’d put it on her bookshelf for the meantime- in the hopes that out of sight meant out of mind. And while that did work for a while, every time she caught a glint off the dull surface, Vanya would feel a little burn of anxiety tighten in her chest.
Finally, Vanya’d had enough. It was time to make a decision on the lamp once and for all. If it didn’t look any better after scrubbing it until it was like a mirror, then Vanya could throw it out, no regrets.
She dug through her cupboards to find an old can of polish and a few rags, and then Vanya readied herself for a good amount of elbow grease to go into the restoration of the lamp.
Vanya, however, didn’t get as far through as she thought she would.
She’d only been rubbing for a minute or so- just barely making a dent in the horrible build up of grime- when she could have sworn the lamp began to heat in her hands. Vanya was inclined to ignore it, and rub all the harder, when she noticed a whisper of vapour coming from the lamp.
She almost dropped it in surprise.
Vanya put it down quickly, turning to look for the can of polish- because she’d never been a whiz at chemistry but clearly she’d incited some sort of unfavourable chemical reaction here- but the lamp didn’t come to rest.
Instead, it began to shake- slightly at first, but then with an increasing ferocity until it was practically jumping on the table, rattling loudly. Vanya just barely suppressed a shriek as smoke began to billow out from the lamp at an alarming rate, until she couldn’t see anything.
(This a horrible way to die, Vanya thought. Or, she realised with chagrin, she might just survive this and have to explain it to her landlord. That would be a fun conversation, considering he already seemed to think she was a drug dealer and that was why she had such weird hours.)
Then, just as suddenly as it had all began, the room fell silent and the smoke cleared.
And there was a man in Vanya’s living room.
And he didn’t have any clothes on.
When she realised this, Vanya felt her face flush as she spun around hurriedly and slapped a hand over her eyes- though not before her eyes had dipped down, and she was cursing herself for getting an eyeful.
(Although, it wasn’t a bad view… and that was exactly what she shouldn’t be thinking-)
“Who are you? How did you get in here?” Vanya just managed to bring her shriek down to a squeak. “And where are your clothes?”
“I’m at your disposal, Master. I am here because I was summoned by you.”
His voice was deep, and a little rough from misuse, and Vanya did her best to hide the shivers that skated down her skin at the sound of it.
(It wasn’t her fault, ok? Before she had turned around, she had noticed he was devastatingly attractive- that sharp jawline and bright blue eyes should be illegal, especially when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Putting a voice to the face didn’t seem to help matters, and his words certainly didn’t quell any of the heated thoughts that Vanya couldn’t seem to suppress.)
Ok, one part at a time.
She was not having a conversation with a naked guy in her living room. Vanya started looking for a rug- a towel, hell, even just a rag- to give him for modesty’s sake. While she was digging through the nearest cupboard, she asked, “I summoned you? What does that mean?”
Vanya chanced a look over her shoulder- just to make sure she hadn’t imagined him- only to find the man hadn’t covered up in the slightest, though he did give her a cocky smirk, before she glanced away again quickly.
As her gaze fell to the discarded lamp, a thought suddenly stole over Vanya; surely not, it couldn’t be- although the timing of his appearance was a little suspicious… but that was impossible… wasn’t it?
“You are in possession of my lamp. You rubbed it and released me. Therefore, you summoned me.”
His tone was polite, painstakingly so, and though his words seemed as if they should have some bite, they instead sounded bored- not at all like the arrogant expression she had seen on his face just a few seconds ago. Vanya found it a little off-putting that his manner so obviously contradicted his feelings.
“So you’re telling me that you’re a…” Vanya couldn’t bring herself to say it. Instead, she pulled a sheet out of the cupboard, before dropping it following his next words.
“A genie, I believe my last master called it.”
Vanya blinked. This was definitely one of the weirder gifts Klaus had given her.
“Right. Your last master. So does that make me-”
Clearly, Vanya was going insane if she even thought this was possible.
“You are my master. Though I can call you whatever you’d like: ‘Master’, ‘Mistress’- I’ve had some owners who prefer titles like ‘O High and Mighty’.”
(She tried not to let her imagination run away with any of those titles- because goddammit, this was not the time or place for anything like that.)
Vanya laughed at his dry tone, still hardly believing she hadn’t passed out from chemical fumes a while ago and was in a delightful hallucination. She picked the sheet back up and held it out behind her.
“I’m Vanya, though I really don’t care what you call me. I would really appreciate you putting this on though?”
She felt the sheet being taken from her and there was a sound of rustling before he said, smirk evident in his voice, “You can turn around now.”
Carefully, Vanya spun to peek through parted fingers before letting her hands drop.
(It really was horribly unfair that someone could look so good in a sheet.)
She exhaled in one long breath, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of this situation.
“Right. Right, ok, first things first. What should I call you?”
“You may call you whatever you wish, Master.”
Vanya’s brow creased. His words were deferential, but there was a light in his eyes that told her of repressed bite, a held-back honesty- as if he were holding his tongue, afraid of her. She didn’t like it.
“How about you call me your equal?” Vanya asked. “You call me by my name, and I’ll call you by yours.”
Five had been doing his best not to show how rattled he was by this rather new experience (he’d thought she thought he was handsome, and yet she had spun around almost instantly on seeing him. Was he not considered attractive anymore? Yet he could have sworn he saw her blush. She was the strangest contradictions, and he couldn’t help but find himself terribly curious about Vanya. He decided he quite liked her name on his lips, savouring the syllables) when she just came out with that.
How the fuck was he meant to respond to that?
An awkward silence descended, and Vanya was almost certain he wouldn’t respond. Until he said, “My name- is Five. Vanya.”
And as she smiled brilliantly, Five couldn’t help but feel more free than he’d felt in all the years he had been living, even before his curse.
Vanya had a million and one questions, which she just barely managed to keep checked. She could tell Five was guarded, and that he certainly wouldn’t tell her everything he wanted to. So she tried to ease him into life in the twenty-first century.
“When were you last summoned?”
Five’s face turned carefully blank, and Vanya decided she hated that. “She summoned me in 1961. I was kept at my owner’s beck and call for roughly forty years.”
Vanya choked on air. “Forty years?”
“When you’ve been alive as long as I have, time doesn’t quite pass in the same way,” Five said it a little snidely, as if he didn’t quite like to believe it.
“It’s still horrible,” Vanya murmured. “How would that even work?”
Five chose his words carefully- very few of his masters, except for the Handler, had started out nasty, though they had all ended that way. They spun pretty webs of words before they decided every one of their problems could be solved by a magical hitman who never got caught.
“You have three wishes you can ask directly of me. Once you have used these wishes, our transaction has ended.”
He purposefully didn’t tell her about the loopholes she could find- that if she didn’t use the words ‘I wish’, rather choosing ‘I want’ or ‘I need’, he would still be obligated to assist her without wasting a wish.
(Five had been burnt before, and even if her eyes were more expressive than anyone he’d ever seen before and she seemed genuinely horrified at the idea of having a slave, Five wasn’t going to take a chance on Vanya. Not until she proved she deserved it.)
“And my wishes can be anything?” Vanya asked. “There’s no time limit, or anything like that?”
“I do have certain limitations on my abilities, which I can disclose if you choose to try and use your wishes for those purposes.” Five could just barely contain the ‘I’d rather not give you any ideas’ but the glint in Vanya’s eye told him she heard it all the same.
“Can I make my first wish?” Vanya asked.
Five doesn’t think anyone had ever asked him if they could make their wish. Still, he gave a stiff nod, preparing himself for whatever stupid, whim-fulfillment he would have to cater to now.
“Ok.” Vanya furrowed her brow, closed her eyes, and thought very hard before she perfected the wording of her next statement; “I wish that you, Five, can be completely honest and open with me, if you do so wish.”
Five gaped at her.
She cracked her eyes open a little, peeking to see his response. “Was that alright?”
“I mean, technically it’s fine but- are you sure you want to wish for this?” Five cursed himself for questioning his good fortune.
“Of course,” Vanya nodded immediately, before suddenly being wracked by uncertainty. She continued anxiously, “I can tell you’ve got a lot to say and I don’t really stand on formalities so I thought this might be easier, but I wanted to give you some leeway so you don’t have to spill your guts to me because we are strangers but maybe with some time-”
Five interrupted her babbling. “Thank you, Vanya.”
His voice cracked on the last syllable and she smiled.
“Of course,” Vanya said again. “What are friends for? Now, about sleeping arrangements-”
-
Five had never been so restless in his life.
His lamp was small and cramped and tinny, and he had been in there for the better part of two centuries. But now- thanks to Vanya- he was out, lying on a couch that was far too comfortable to sleep on, for the foreseeable future.
It was weird.
He couldn’t find a way to lie down without feeling awkward- energy buzzed in his veins. Maybe Five just wasn’t used to being back in human form- in the lamp, he was shapeless, more a general consciousness than anything else.
Five wouldn’t have minded spending all of eternity on his own in the lamp if it didn’t just feel like he was floating. He couldn’t think properly when he was in there. It made it a lot harder to think about how to break his curse, especially when the only time he could think was when he was at someone else’s mercy.
So far, they were in uncharted territory.
Vanya had given him the couch and a load of blankets, saying she was sorry she didn’t have a proper bed but could buy him one tomorrow- tossing apologies around as if they were nothing, when no one had apologised to him in more than a hundred years. She’d also dug up some clothes that she’d said were ‘Klaus’s’, whatever that meant.
(Maybe it was a new fashion craze in recent years, to wear a strange mismatch of clothes that felt really weird to wear. Five wasn’t a huge fan, but he found himself grateful that Vanya had given him the choice.)
Five wondered if he should have told Vanya that he could literally create anything he wanted to if Vanya wished it so.
He wasn’t really sure of the protocol here. By about this time in the Handler’s reign, he had already killed three people and was banished to his tinny cage.
Vanya had just passed him a towel and directed him to the shower.
“Is this your subtle way of saying I smell?” The words were out of Five’s mouth before he could stop them.
“I mean, more than fifteen years in the same lamp, you’re bound to have built up a stench,” Vanya replied flippantly.
Five can’t remember the last time someone teased him.
Even now, Five couldn’t help turning the incident over in his mind. He was still very much on edge- he couldn’t know for sure that Vanya was a good person, and yet he was entirely at her mercy.
So, since Five didn’t really need sleep, he did a little digging. Eight hours of investigation really told you a lot about a person. By the time Vanya came shuffling into the kitchen, Five was fairly confident he could use the knowledge that he had gained to manipulate the situation.
(He couldn’t directly harm his owner, so if it turned out to be another Handler situation, Five was going to have to set off one thing to cause a chain reaction.)
“Good morning,” Vanya yawned. “I would kill someone for a coffee right now.”
(Vanya had spent most of the night trying to be ok with the fact that she now apparently had a magical genie and two wishes left to make- for anything in the world. She was really trying not to lose her mind in the process, and a little caffeine would go a long way. If she could inject the coffee directly into her veins, she would.)
Five had killed people for less. Summoning a cup of coffee, Five handed it to her.
Vanya blinked.
That wasn’t one of her mugs. And it definitely smelt like actual coffee- far better than the shitty stuff she could afford.
“Five, where did you get this from?” Vanya asked suspiciously.
“You wanted it,” Five said, shrugging and not making eye contact. He really wished he could have kept the lid on this for a little longer.
“So, if I want something…”
“I am obligated to get it,” Five replied, a little bitterly.
Vanya definitely needed more coffee to deal with this.
She practically inhaled the cup, before setting it carefully down on the bench. “Ok. I think maybe some ground rules could be good.”
Ah. This was familiar. Five knew the dance from here. This was where his owners decided he was a slave for convenience and their own personal assassin.
“You’re welcome to help yourself to anything in my apartment. I would like you to pull your weight though- like if I make dinner, you can do the dishes- but that’s more a roommate situation than as a ‘master’, or whatever. I don’t know if you prefer it in your lamp, but I was planning on getting you a bed today so you at least have the option, and don’t have to crash on the couch. Does that sound alright?”
Vanya said all of this fairly quickly, trying to get out everything she had been thinking about overnight.
Five couldn’t quite believe his luck; it all sounded too good to be true, which- in his experience- meant it was. Carefully, he decided to give Vanya a little to run with.
“That sounds fine,” he nodded.
“Great! I’ll work on my words, so I don’t accidentally make you do anything,” Five’s eyebrows jumped almost into his hairline at that- this certainly was a new experience, actively trying not to exploit him- when Vanya realised something else. “Oh, I am going to need to stipulate that you wear clothes, just because we can’t really have anyone calling the cops on you until we get some social security papers, so you can go and pick some out for yourself today as well- if you want to come that is. Or I can show you the joys of the internet and online shopping.”
At this, Five smirked. “I don’t believe I’ll be needing your assistance there.”
Vanya, who had moved to put away her new mug, began to ask, “What do you- oh.”
The words died in her throat.
As she turned to look at him, Vanya realised Five was now in a perfectly fitted suit, fiddling with his tie. Her mouth was suddenly very dry- how could an immortal being look so good in a suit?
Five had taken her rambling as tacit agreement to his magicking up his own clothes.
“Right, magic. Sure. Why not. Ok, so I assume I don’t need to buy you a bed then either?”
“You can just ask me for it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier before I ran my mouth off?” Vanya asked, a little exasperated.
Five’s mouth kicked up at the corners. “You never asked. Now what’s this about an inter-web?”
Vanya’s answering eyeroll before fetching her phone made something warm start in Five’s chest that he didn’t recognise for a moment- laughter.
Five was obviously very clever, even if working with technology made a crease appear between his brows.
“And people actually enjoy writing like this?” He asked, examining her text messages.
Vanya had emailed to let her conductor know she wouldn’t be coming to rehearsal and it had spiralled into showing Five the many ways of communicating without actually having to talk. He was particularly fascinated by the shortening of words.
“It saves time. You were out in the ‘90’s weren’t you? Surely this can’t all be that surprising.”
“Yeah, the Handler wasn’t exactly up-to-date with popular culture. She wasn’t big on innovation. Though she did like having things done quickly- very much enjoyed efficiency,” Five said somewhat distastefully.
“The Handler- was she your old owner?”
“Yep. Forty years of her being a pain in my ass. And all anyone ever did was worry about saving time, instead of actually doing anything with the time they saved.”
Vanya stifled a laugh at how much he sounded like a stereotypical sixty year old man.
“I figured you were an old-fashioned kind of genie- you know, with the suit and all. Still, you’ll need a phone and everything.”
Five frowned. “What for? You can summon me any time you want to. And I don’t have anyone else to call.”
Vanya gave him a smile. “Well, we’ll just have to change that then, won’t we?” Apparently not noticing how perplexed Five was, Vanya changed the subject. “Do you want some coffee?”
She glanced up to see Five once again looking at her uncertainly. Vanya got the feeling that was very unusual for Five to not be certain- just from the way he carried himself, how smirks seemed to come naturally, and his replies flew back, quick and sharp.
Vanya herself wasn’t a particularly touchy-feely person, but she had noticed Five flinched away when she made big gestures or a loud noise. Judging by the mention of his past masters, Vanya was willing to bet Five was waiting for her to snap- which was exactly why she wouldn’t. Five needed to know that he could trust her.
Testing his privacy, Vanya asked, “Do you like coffee?”
“I don’t remember,” Five confessed.
“Do you want to try some?”
It had been a long time since he’d had the option to try something he wanted to.
Vanya handed him a cup, and he took a cautious sip.
The grin that spread across Five’s face was brilliant, and Vanya felt her heart stutter in her chest.
“That’s incredible,” Five said, taking another sip and trying to ignore the strange heat he could feel in his cheeks at Vanya’s happy gaze.
It really was good coffee. And the best part was, he had the choice.
“Ok then. You can make the coffee from now on.”
And for some reason, the fact that there wasn’t an end date on that didn’t make Five feel trapped. For the first time in two centuries, Five felt safe.
-
Vanya had begged off making her next few wishes for the last couple of weeks, and they had fallen into an odd sort of routine. They both woke early- she made breakfast, and he made coffee and they ate together.
While Vanya went out to work, Five spent time acclimating to the wonders of the twenty-first century, or trying to recover from the bombs Vanya casually dropped- like that they were friends as she explained the situation to the elusive Klaus and Allison, or leaving brochures on the table for university courses she thought he might like, or every time she did something that indicated towards his presence being more than temporary.
(Five didn’t know how to feel about the fact that he wanted to stay- that Vanya made him laugh and how she laughed in return at his quips, the headiness of her admiration as she watched him work at his equations, the focus she put into the violin and how she was kind, so much kinder than anyone he had ever met.)
But Vanya surprising him seemed to be a common theme in his life since she had woken him up.
Case and point, dealing with her orchestra.
“-I know they don’t mean to be such elitist pricks, but it makes it hard, you know? I just really wish people could be nice to each other instead of-”
“Cornering you in the bathroom to lie and undermine your confidence? You know, I could just kill them. It was a common service with my previous owners. We could even call this one a freebie, you won’t even have to wish for it.”
Five had decided that morbid humour was a perfect coping mechanism, and that anyone who said otherwise could shove it up their ass.
“Say it with me Five, I know you know the words: Murder is not the answer.”
“Hey, it’s only murder if it’s premeditated with malicious intent and they can prove it. Otherwise, it’s just a happy accident,” Five shrugged.
It was strange to joke about things that had once been his entire life and entirely serious life-or-death matters. And yet, with Vanya, Five doesn’t quite find himself minding forgetting.
“You’re an actual psychopath,” Vanya responded, raising an eyebrow and laughing despite herself.
“Yes, but I’m your psychopathic genie, until death do us part. Or until you make your wishes. Whichever comes first,” Five’s hint was not subtle, but then again, he’d never claimed to be.
“Right, so for the rest of eternity. Which, speaking of, I’ve got some people you should meet. Does tomorrow work for you?”
“I mean, I’ll have to check my packed social calendar,” Five drawled. “Who am I meeting?”
“Since I’m horribly indecisive, you’re going to be sticking around for a while. SO I figure it’s time for you to meet my friends.”
-
Five doesn’t know why he was so nervous. It had been a long time since he actually cared about making a good first impression- much less cared about what other people thought of him.
But that night, for the first time since that very first night, Five was restless. Midnight found him sitting in the kitchen with a coffee, poring over a physics textbook Vanya had borrowed from the library for him.
“Five?” Vanya asked blearily. She had woken up to the glow of the kitchen light, and she rubbed her eyes as she stumbled out to sit next to Five. “Are you ok?”
And damn, Five kind of hated that he didn’t flinch away as she stilled his hands with her own, that he was tempted to actually tell her what he was thinking.
(He hated even more the fact that he didn’t actually hate that he was getting comfortable here. Because maybe Five could see a him living a life here- with Vanya.)
His voice was rough and softened around the edges by sleep. “Did you know I’ve been a genie for two hundred years?” At Vanya’s cautious nod, Five continued. “Before that, I was just a man. And then I pissed off my dad. Obviously the wrong move, since he decided a little retribution was necessary.”
Five gestured to his unageing body vaguely.
Vanya frowned. “Wait, your father cursed you to be a magical slave for eternity?”
“He was a delightfully sick old bastard,” Five replied grimly. “He’s not the worst person I’ve had to deal with over the years. The Handler was the grand finale for a long line of shitty owners.”
Vanya really wished Five had better timing. She’d been hoping he’d open up to her for weeks, and of course he chose to do it in the middle of the night when she was struggling to come to terms with the fact that she was both alive and awake.
Subtly, she took a swig of Five’s coffee, and then scrunched up her nose when she realised it was Irish. “I don’t want to push you, but if you want to talk, I want to hear it.”
Five’s nod and his ducked head told her how much he appreciated that.
“It was just- it was hell, Vanya. I couldn’t do shit, I couldn’t say shit, I couldn’t even roll my eyes without getting another kill order. My mind, my body wasn’t my own. And I wasted… so many years, and I’m just going to keep wasting them, from here to eternity. Because even if you keep me safe your whole life, I’m immortal. I’ve got all the time until the end of the universe to do everyone else’s bidding.”
Five took a pull from the bottle of whiskey he had managed to procure. It made the words that stuck in his throat come a little easier.
“I don’t want to live forever. I just want one life with people I love, and no imminent danger. Is that so much to ask for?”
Gently, Vanya took the bottle out of his hands to set it down on the table. “No. It’s not. And I promise, Five, you will get that life.”
(Vanya had already been trying to work out the wording for her final wish- to set Five free. Now, she was determined it would be perfect; Five deserved the life he wanted so badly.)
Five wouldn’t remember that in the morning. He would remember what followed though.
“Is this about meeting Klaus and Allison tomorrow?” Vanya asked carefully.
“I want to make a good impression, for the first time in forever. I could see myself being happy here.”
(Vanya tried not to show how that made her heart swell, the happy tears that filled her eyes with a grin that felt like it could break her face. He wanted to stay.)
“If you be yourself, then you have absolutely nothing to worry about. They’re going to love you, just like I do.”
(And maybe it wasn’t the same kind of love, but that was ok. That wasn’t what Five needed right now- maybe not ever- and soon enough, Five would be able to make his own choice.)
And Five didn’t know it at the time, but as she drank from the bottle and turned on the radio, pulling him up enthusiastically to teach him how to do the macarena (apparently a life skill more important than being able to do you taxes, knowing which affect/effect to use and having a basic grasp on politics combined) - that was the moment Five felt his life truly begin, in the light of Vanya’s kitchen and the warmth of her laughter.
-
“So this is your new roommate? Your apartment is so small, I never thought you’d be looking for someone.”
“Good for you though Vanya, finally getting some action,” Klaus crowed.
“Oh my god, Klaus,” Vanya groaned, resisting the urge to put her head in her hands. “Ok guys, this is Five. Five, this is Allison and Klaus.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Allison offered her hand and Five took it hesitantly.
“Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“You want coffee, Five?” Vanya interrupted Allison and Five’s sizing each other up.
“Only as long as I’m breathing,” Five replied without missing a beat.
“You’re going to give yourself a heart attack one of these days,” Vanya chided him even as she poured herself a cup.
“Oh, haven’t you heard? I’m an immortal genie without any organs. Nothing can hurt me- especially not coffee,” Five snipped back and Vanya grinned.
“How about trying decaf so you’re not up at all hours of the night?”
Five snorted.
“Fine, I’ll wean you off it then.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Five’s grin was just shy of savage, and Vanya responded in kind, to the amusement of their audience.
“Well, I’ve only got until the end of eternity. I’m sure I’ll manage it somehow.”
Five was about to respond with a sarcastic retort when Klaus interrupted, “I like this one, Vanya. Let’s keep him.”
Allison grinned. “He’d get along like a house on fire with Diego. Can I call him?”
Hours- and many drinks, caffeinated, alcoholic and a few of both- Five had been well and truly initiated into their small group of friends.
“Ok, ok, but you have to agree, it’s not the worst theory in the world!”
“Yeah that doesn’t make it good. Some people think world is flat- Five, back me up here,” Ben raised his voice to direct the query at Five.
Five tilted his head. “Ben’s right. The apocalypse being caused by asteroid impact isn’t the worst theory, but there has to be better ones, right?”
Groans spilled out from all sides of the table.
“Now you’ve got him started-”
“We’re never going to hear the end of this-”
“Five, I am so glad you asked,” Diego crowed over his friends. “We are going to have so much fun-”
“You can talk about that later. Five, Vanya and I have books to discuss first-” Ben interjected.
“No, no, Allison and I have to take him shopping, because judging from what Vanya’s told us- in between drools- ouch, that hurts Vanya,” she smiled at him sweetly with a challenge in her eyes as she jabbed him between the ribs again. “You need more than a few suits to fill out a wardrobe, Five.”
As her (their) friends argued over who would get to annoy the crap out of Five first, Vanya leaned into him. “Still nervous about that first impression?”
Five savoured the smell of her shampoo, the spiced scent of soap he could smell on her skin. “No. You were right Vanya.” He looked around at the group of people he could one day imagine calling family. “They’re great. But I’m ready to go home now.”
And so Vanya linked her fingers with his, and let him lead her home.
-
In just a few weeks- to none of their friends’ surprise, judging from the knowing looks they’d shot Vanya at the time- all the hassle they went through to get Five’s bed would be useless, because he would be in hers.
Vanya’s second wish was for something material- she doesn’t quite remember what now. Perhaps enough money that she could fund any research for global warming or supporting children in Africa and still pay her bills. It was hard to say.
But she remembers her third wish.
The way Five’s eyes widened as she let the words- so carefully chosen- drop from her lips.
The way her voice had shaken a little as she started: “I wish that Five was released from his curse, and that he can choose the life that he wants to live.”
The way he had sighed her name, a plead and an order, a declaration and a wish and a hope, all at once.
Vanya remembered how his lamp had imploded, how the ringing silence filled the air following it.
Vanya remembered Five taking a step towards her, and another and another, until he gently took her head in his hands as he confessed, “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
She remembered her simple reply; “Then don’t go.”
Vanya wished she could remember everything that followed that night- that she could burn those memories into her brain and never let them go.
But life doesn’t work life that.
Instead, Vanya took the moments as they came- lived as many of them as she could, to the fullest that she knew how- in the hope that before she died, she would get to see them all flash before her eyes.
Five remembered that night as well- their conversation, how their lips had met and then fell apart and met again, over and over. He remembered being so happy- and how that feeling came about with every moment he could spend with Vanya, learning how to live again.
But most of all, Five remembered the morning after, when he made coffee and she made toast. She burnt her piece to charcoal because of her shitty toaster, but the next piece was perfectly cooked. They split it down the middle, and in the gentle lull of the morning, there was piece
As Five watched Vanya then (the way her smile made her eyes crinkle and how she gestured with her hands; the sound of her voice and the way everything about her made him want to break out into a blinding grin), he realised something.
Five thought after spending two hundred years in service to other people, he had forgotten how to love.
He hasn’t.