Word Count: 1,627
Rating: PG
Category: AU. Humour. Slightly cracked. Sorry!
Story Status: Complete
Summary: John finds an old lamp...

Thanks: Thank you to Jayne Perry for the beta-reading and to alyjude for the wonderful cover art.


Genie of the Lamp
By Leesa Perrie

cover art
 Artwork by alyjude.  See more of her artwork here.

Old and rusted, the oil lamp was nestled at the bottom of the battered metal trunk, lost beneath items discarded and neglected by their owner.  The trunk had been at the back of an attic room at one of his father's houses; a lifetime of memories scattered across three homes in three different states.

His brother had asked him to help sort through some of the remnants of his father's life.  He'd agreed reluctantly, not wanting to leave the burden on his brother's shoulders even though he was not the favoured son; not the one to inherit the houses, the business, the wealth.  It didn't hurt, he had expected this final snub from his father and had no need of the old man's money anyway.  In fact, the few thousand dollars he had been given were already scattered around various charities; ones that his father had always despised.

But he hadn't wanted to leave all the work for Dave, and so here he was, in a dusty attic room, looking inside an abandoned old trunk.

The lamp reminded him of the classic Aladdin-type lamp and he smiled at the thought.  Picking it up and feeling foolish, he couldn't help himself and gave it a quick rub. The lamp juddered in his hands and he dropped it back into the trunk in surprise.  Smoke poured out of the nozzle, forming slowly into the shape of a man.  An ordinary if not entirely solid looking man, clad in jeans and a t-shirt with E=MC2 on the front.

The man blinked.

"Well, it's about time someone found my lamp," he groused, sounding most un-genie-like in John's view.  "I've been trapped in there for years and years and..." the man trailed off and sighed.  "I suppose we should get down to business.  You have three wishes.  I can't kill anyone or stop someone from being born.  I can't undo the past.  Choose them wisely," the genie told him curtly, lips curled in disdain.

"Okay," John drawled, sounding unsure.  "So, do you have a name? I mean, do genies have names?"

"Yes, yes, of course I have a name!"

"So...?"

"Dr Rodney McKay, physicist.  I work for a top secret research facility in Nevada.  Well, I did until a science experiment gone horribly and disastrously wrong turned me into a genie and basically screwed everything up."

"What? How? I mean how long have you been a, you know, a genie?"

"That was in 2002, but due to the nature of the science involved I ended up back in time, somewhere around the early 1700s.  What year is it?"

"2004."

"Then I've been a genie for around three hundred years.  Damn, I hadn't realised it was that long.  I mean, I knew it was long, but not that... Still, not much I can do about it.  I don't suppose you'd want to waste one of your wishes setting me free, huh?  No, of course not.  No one else ever had.  Why should you? You don't know me or anything... So, what do you want? Money?  That's always a good one.  Oh, and don't ask for a the girl of your dreams.  I can't make someone for you, though I suppose I could guide you towards a potential mate, but she wouldn't be the girl of your dreams..."

"Don't want money or a girl."

"Oh, well, that's different.  So, what do you want?"

What indeed? John wasn't sure.  When faced with the impossible being possible, he wasn't sure what to do, what to ask for, what to have.  And then he smiled.

"The entire Johnny Cash CD collection."

"Oh.  You need to say 'I wish' first, and seriously, is that it?  Are you going to waste your wishes on crap like that?"

"It's not crap.  I like Johnny Cash."

"Yes, but...you could have anything.  Well, almost anything."

John cocked his head at that and thought some more.

"I wish for world peace."

"Ah, damn.  World peace is beyond my doing.  I can't really do anything that makes people act differently to what they normally would.  Hmm, probably should have mentioned that earlier."

"Yeah, you should have."

"Sorry," McKay shrugged his shoulders. "Two wishes left."

John still didn't know what to ask for, the suddenness of it all leaving him somewhat flummoxed.  He decided to change the topic for now.  After all, he had a myriad questions running though his head. "What's it like when you're in the lamp?"

"What?"

"Just wondering what life's like for you."

"Awful.  I'm in the lamp for longer periods than not, and although I think time goes faster for me when I'm inside, I'm still aware of it passing.  Aware but unable to touch, see, smell, hear or taste.  I can sleep for short periods of time, which helps, but... Well, it's lucky I'm used to being on my own or else I'd be insane by now.  Of course, being out of the lamp isn't much better.  I mean, I can see and hear, but having to provide three wishes is tiresome.  Anyway, why do you care?" The genie looked at him, perplexed.  "Oh, I get it, you're doing the 'let's pretend I'm going to free you' thing and then when you're down to your last wish you'll decide there's something you want for yourself that's more important than freeing me.  Three hundred years, twenty-four people, and all of them selfish.  Not that I can complain.  I guess in their places I might do the same thing.  Maybe. Once."

"I'll free you."

"Sure, right, let's see you keep that when you get to your last wish."

John sighed, still struggling to come to terms with what was happening, feeling like it was some sort of dream.

"Still, take your time, it's nice to be out for a bit.  No rush..." McKay continued.  "Hmm, where am I, anyway?  Looks like an attic... Oh crap, that mean, nasty no good son of a bitch!  I gave him money and gold and diamonds and then he throws me into some dusty old attic!  Well, that's thanks for you!  Just because I insulted him there was no need for him to be this vindictive.  Damn that Patrick Sheppard..."

"Um, you mean my dad?"

"Oh lovely, you're his son.  Great.  Fantastic," the genie huffed.

"Hey, I agree.  He was a vindictive son of a bitch. Well, no, his mother was actually quite nice, what I remember of her, but still, he could be mean when it suited him."

"Oh.  Not Daddy's little boy, then?"

"Crap, no!  That'd be my brother, Dave.  I left home a long time ago and wouldn't be back if it wasn't for Dad's death.  I'm only here as a favour to Dave, not that he'd see it that way.  I wish he would sort all of Dad's stuff out for himself instead of dragging me into it."  John's cell phone rang.  "Huh?"

"Well, answer it then," McKay snapped.

"Right."  He flipped it open and answered with a wary 'hello'.

"It's Dave.  Look, don't take this the wrong way, but I'd rather sort through Dad's things myself.  Might be something he wouldn't want you to have or see and I wouldn't want you taking stuff by accident that doesn't belong to you."

John felt himself go cold at the not-so-veiled accusation.  "Fine, whatever.  I'll be leaving then."

"Yeah, probably for the best.  Bye."  His brother ended the call.

"So, one wish left," McKay said, looking at him sadly.  "Um, not all wishes work out as well as you might want.  Can't make people act out of character, after all."

"You did that?"

"You said..."

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?  Damn."

"So... One left."

"Yeah, one left."  John looked around the room.  He didn't want any of this stuff, he didn't want money or riches, he didn't want a lot really, and most of what he wanted involved changing the past or making people act differently, and McKay had said that was out of the question.  Besides, he had his word to keep.  "I wish you free."

"What?" McKay said in surprise, and then the lamp shuddered, there was a loud boom and it shattered into tiny pieces, scattering inside the trunk, and the man before him grew solid and real, looking shaken with jaw dropped in amazement.  "I can't believe you just... Thank you!  I...I don't know how to repay you..."

"You don't need to."

"But...but...why?"

"Not much I want really.  And your life sucks." John shrugged.  "Seemed like the right thing to do."

"Thank you," McKay said again, sincerity clear in his eyes.

"So, what you going to do now?" John asked, genuinely curious. 

"Go back to Nevada, of course!"

"Won't they, I don't know, wonder where you've been?"

"Yes, but this isn't the weirdest thing they've seen!  And just think of the scientific breakthrough this could prove to be."

"Yeah, but do you really want to turn more people in genies?"

"Well, no, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.  Well, maybe my worst... But no, no more genies.  But maybe we can use it for something else.  Who knows?"

"Well, good luck with all that."

"Yeah.  Um, is there a phone around here I can use?"

"Sure."

"Good."

"Good."

Of course, the people who ran the top secret research sent a car to pick up McKay, and also insisted that John come with them as they wanted to ask him questions to verify what had happened.

One thing led to another, and before he knew it, he was transferred from Travis AFB to the top secret research base at Area 51, where he learned of aliens and wormholes and hinky science that turned people into genies.

And found himself an annoying, irritating, demanding and loyal friend.

The End


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