AN: Okay, I randomly had the idea for this when I was reading Golem's Eye. I've just finished reading Ptolemy's gate (so sad!) and I thought; why not write it? So I am.

This is set before Ptolemy's Gate but after Golem's Eye.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Bartimaeus Trilogy. I'm not Jonathon Stroud.

Bartimaeus

"Pass me that file on Ms Piper's desk." The magician John Mandrake didn't even look up from the file he was writing in, let alone say 'please'. (1) How polite.

"What's the magic word?" I prompted, changing into the form of his usual secretary, Ms Piper. (2) I knew Mandrake well enough to know that treating him like a child was a good way to get a reaction.

He glanced up at me briefly; concealing any anger he might feel. He's getting harder and harder to annoy even for a particularly talented djinni like myself. "Do your job and get me the file or I'll confine you to a smelly old boot and have Hodge ingest it," he commanded.

Ooh, that was nasty and really rather vile. To be trapped in a smelly old boot would be bad enough but Hodge! That was beyond cruel. I think it's about time someone invented djinniline. This abuse has got to stop.

I got the file but no thanks. I arranged Ms Piper's motherly face into an expression of sheer horror. "Where are your manners boy?" I chastised.

Mandrake opened the file and completely ignored me. I'll say it again: how polite.

"Fine," I snapped, reverting to the form of Kitty Jones. "If that's all you think of me! I might as well be dead!"

At that, I flung myself onto his desk and sobbed noisily. Low, I know but I was desperate to be dismissed. The second Ms Piper came back from holiday, I was out of here. I mean, birthdays, they're so overrated. I hope Mandrake's secretary learns to understand this soon. I've had over five-thousand birthdays and I don't feel the need to become a tourist for that week!

I raised my head and looked at Mandrake beseechingly with red-rimmed eyes. He was still writing. He can't ignore me forever! I will crack him; this is abuse! I, Bartimaeus of Uruk, Serpent of the Silver Plumes who conversed with Solomon, deserve better that that!

I coughed.

Not even a twitch.

Okay, I needed a new angle. Annoying him seemed mot to be working; it was Nathaniel who succumbed to it and Nathaniel was confined within impassive Mandrake right now. I had to try something new. I had to appeal to Nathaniel. I hate to say it but I needed some sympathy!

I opted to give annoyance once last try. Still sobbing, I sprawled Kitty Jones's form across Mandrake's papers. He looked up.

Finally, I had his attention. He spoke.

"Bartimaeus, you're right in the way," he said patiently. "Move your leg."

I shook my head defiantly. "I want to be dismissed."

He sighed. "And I told you, you'll get your dismissal when I get my secretary back! Until then, you will take her place. You've got to complete your charge, Bartimaeus."

Don't I know it! I looked up at him with big, dark eyes. (3) "But I'm so tired," I said softly. I have to say, feminine voices are so much easier to turn persuasive. "I'm wasting away!"

Mandrake raised his eyebrows. "Then you can do a different task for me. The outside air might wake you up."

I increased the intensity of my puppy dog eyes and decreased the amount of fat on Kitty Jones's body for good measure.

Mandrake noticed and ordered, "I'm going to send you to pick up an order for me from Sholto Pinn." Ooh! One of Lovelace's old cronies. This could be interesting. "It's a silver necklace-"

"WHAT? (!) SILVER! DO-"

Mandrake raised a hand to quieten me and yelled above my noise, "It will be in a bag. I requested a bigger one; I was going to get Purip (4) to collect it but seeing as you're so tired, the exercise will do you good."

"I can exercise here!" I protested, leaping off the desk to jog on the spot in front of him. I, like all djinn, have an aversion to silver.

He ignored my exercise. "And change that guise or I will call ahead and have you carry the necklace in your hand."

I changed into Ptolemy's comfortable guise and set off grumbling. This called for some serious thinking. If I'm going to have to serve this magician, there needs to be some serious change going on. Yep, I've got to figure out a way to draw out the Nathaniel in John Mandrake.

(1) Isn't it always the same with magicians? Do this, do that! Don't they teach apprentices manners anymore?

(2) Well, I added glasses for an extra motherly touch and enlarged her curves a little but it was a fairly good representation of the secretary with her mousy brown hair. Why are you bothered about it anyway? It's a guise not the real thing!

(3) Don't look at me like that! I'm allowed to make subtle changes to my guise! Besides, you would've stooped to puppy dog eyes if you were in my position and don't you deny it!

(4) I couldn't help but wonder what Purip must've done to deserve that but knowing Mandrake, not much.

AN: So, what do you think? 'Cause this is such a short chapter, I'm going to start to write the next chapter right now. Also, the next chapter gets funny so please read on!

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