Title: Day by Day
Fandom: Bartimaeus
Rating: G
Length: 417 words
Content notes: Allusion to death, suicidal ideation.
Author notes: First time posting in this comm!
Summary: Nathaniel does not appreciate Bartimaeus' attempts to ruin his breakfast.



"Stop that," Nathaniel says, not looking up from his morning paper. He can't afford to look because Bartimaeus has once again taken the shape of Kitty Jones, the girl that's been nothing but trouble for him. The girl whom he should be glad to be rid of. The girl who... saved his life and perished while trying.

"What's the matter?" Bartimaeus asks cheerfully and perches on the corner of the kitchen table, nearly knocking over Nathaniel's tea. Nathaniel reaches out automatically to steady it and Bartimaeus uses the moment to steal his newspaper.

"Give it back, Bartimaeus," Nathaniel says and even to himself he sounds resigned. Bartimaeus perks up, folds the paper and shoves it behind him.

"Nu-uh," he says, waggling a well-manicured finger, "not before we figure this out."

"Figure what out?" Nathaniel asks, massaging his temples. He can feel the beginnings of a migraine. So much for a successful day.

"Why you won't look at me," Bartimaeus says. The gleeful tone he uses forces Nathaniel to look up, just so he can glare at him. Bartimaeus' smile widens, something vindictive underneath. "Is it because she's your type?"

Nathaniel frowns at him. This is the last thing he'd expected him to say, but here they are. "What."

Bartimaeus hums and folds his hands neatly on his lap. That too is disturbing. Nathaniel's never seen Kitty act prim and proper. She's the type of girl to deck him and break his nose. And save his life, apparently.

"No?" Bartimaeus asks, leaning forward. It sticks the cleavage right in Nathaniel's face and he immediately scoots back his chair. Bartimaeus watches him in clear amusement.

"Haven't I given you an assignment?" Nathaniel asks. The tone of his voice is cool and detached and if he weren't so ambitious, perhaps that would scare him.

"Oh, I know!" Bartimaeus says, ignoring him entirely. "is it possible that in your cold little shrivelled up heart, you might, in any way, feel guilt?"

"There's nothing to feel guilty about," Nathaniel says, but he knows his clenched jaw gives it away.

Bartimaeus laughs, delighted. "You keep telling yourself that, maybe one day you'll make a proper politician. Isn't that so, Natty-boy?"

Nathaniel throws him another glare and gets up from the table. To hell with his breakfast if he has to put up with this. He'll grab a less than adequate sandwich from the cafeteria at lunch and hope he doesn't end up with food poisoning.

At this rate, he'd prefer the real thing.