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I Dream of Darcy

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For years Darcy sat in the chamber of her home, a thousands years of solitude. She was trapped to say the least. She could change the interior how she wanted get anything she needed with the flick of her wrist, she just couldn’t leave. She found many of her days spent looking up at the dark encompass that was the cork to her domain. Until one day, her world shifts. Literally.

Darcy topples over her couch with an “Oof” before she is rolled in the opposite direction nearly missing bumping her head on a side table. With a quick brush of her fingers she stabilizes her dimension, unused to having to do so after so many years sitting in the same position. She rushes towards the nearest purple wall and presses her ear to it, hearing the muffled voices of men. She feels a bubble of excitement, as she dances around the confines of her room before she makes her self-calm down.

She sits down on her lilac chaise, in preparation for her freedom and she waits, and waits… and waits, and then she falls asleep.

She wakes up with a jolt at the sound of the cork popping off of her bottle, and finds she’s still trapped.

“Great.” She huffs, what little excitement she’d had dying as the natural light dissipates from her room when her bottle is re-corked. She’d even dressed up! She’d donned her best garb, a pair of Purple flowing pants that hugged her waist and billowed out as it went down, gold cuffs hugging the pants to her ankles. Her top the match with its billowing sleeves that attached to a top that cuts off just above her navel.

She releases a frustrated groan, that goes unheard, before plopping face first onto the pillows of her bed.

Sometime later Darcy once again wakes up to the sound of her bottle being uncorked, she doesn’t even let the hope kindle before turning over in bed. It’s not until her bottle fills up with smoke and her body begins to dissipate with it that an excited giggle escapes her.

“Oh, my God, thank you! honestly, I’ve been trapped in there for who knows how long!” She chimes with a bone cracking stretch. “Anyway, I’m Darcy the Genie of this here lamp…and.” Darcy pauses as she gets a look at her Master. The woman, no taller than herself, dons rumpled cloths and a messy bun. She stands frozen with Darcy’s uncorked Periwinkle glass bottle in her hands.

“I know, I know it’s a lot to take in.” Darcy says with a smirk.

“You’re a- a- a-“ the woman tries.

“A genie.”

“And you came out of… out of the.” She stutters, to Darcy’s amusement.

“The bottle…” Darcy finishes slowly.

“How? … Genie’s don’t exist.” The woman argues.

Darcy rolls her eyes before looking around at her new surroundings. “and yet, here I am.” Darcy parries, with wiggling fingers. She comes across a white board littered with equations. She tilts her head to the side as she studies it before turning back to her master. The Woman still seems unable to grasp what’s going on.

“Fine, make a wish.” Darcy announces.

“A wish?” She asks, setting down Darcy’s previous prison.

“Yeah. I’ll grant it, proving that I am in fact a Genie, Your genie.” She intones.

Jane frowns before nodding. “Okay I wish for coffee.” The woman says with confidence.

Darcy frowns eyeing the coffee maker situated on the counter in the kitchen with a raised eyebrow.

“It broke last week, and I am dying for a cup.” She admits sheepishly.

“Fine. One cup of coffee, coming right up.” Darcy holds one palm up and uses the other hand to wave dramatically around it before a thermos appears. She holds it out for her master to take and waits patiently as the woman eyes it dubiously. She seems to shrug before taking it and popping the lid off.

Darcy has a moment to jolt and rush out. “Careful it’s ..”

“Ooh it’s hot!” Her Master hisses, and then her eyes widen comedically. “Oh my God you’re a Genie!”

“Genie, Jinni call me what you want just don’t call me late for dinner.” Darcy jokes.

Her new master levels her with an unimpressed look before releasing a gasp, “Did I just waste one of my three wishes on coffee? Nice one Foster.” She finishes with a pout.

“Foster?” Darcy asks excitedly, finally getting an idea of who her master was, before pausing. “wait three wishes?” She asks confused.

Her master pales. “Do I only get one?”

Darcy frowns at that “You can make as many wishes as you want, Master.” Darcy says tacking on the formality.

“Master?” she says with a dissatisfied frown. “I don’t want to be anyone’s master.”

Darcy freezes, before visibly drooping. “You don’t want to be my master?”

“Not yours specifically, I just mean in general. Oh my- are you crying?” she asks, eyes wide.

Darcy lets out a sniffle before wiping away a stray tear. “A thousand years I spent in that bottle, just wishing and hoping that someone would come along and free me. To need me! and here you are and you don’t! Why!?” Darcy sobs dramatically

The woman quickly rushes towards her. “I didn’t mean it that way. I could need you I just don’t want to be your master.” She rectifies.

“You need me but you don’t want to be my master? But I want a master!” Darcy shrieks. “I want to grant Your Wishes!”

The woman seems to think on it. “Why me?” She finally asks.

“Because you freed me! I’m bound to you!” Darcy explains, with determination.

“Don’t you want to be unbound?” Her not master asks, watching Darcy as if she’s a puzzle.

Darcy takes a minute to think on it. of course she'd thought about it, but her power was greater when it was used to grant wishes, verses doing mundane tasks for herself. And Darn it she enjoys the company... most of the time. “Don’t you want me to grant your wishes?” She challenges.

The woman frowns before looking around at the room. “There are a few things I’d wish for.” She admits.

“See I can help!” Darcy pleads.

“But I still don’t feel right with the whole servitude thing. How about an assistant?” she placates.

“A what?” Darcy questions with a frown.

“You’d be my assistant. Get things I need, help me with my work.  Are you any good with data cataloging?” The woman asks.

“I… You want me to …. What?” Darcy stutters.

“Then it’s settled Genie, I wish for you to be my Assistant.” She orders.

Darcy looks down at herself as she feels the contract adjust around its new territory, though nothing physically changes. “It’s Darcy.” She says as an afterthought.

“Hmm?” Her Boss? Mutters around the thermos of still hot coffee.

“My name isn’t Genie, It’s Darcy.” She explains with a slight smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Dr. Jane Foster, but please call me Jane!” Jane says with a smile of her own.