The revelations of the afternoon made it a restless night for Cassian. Perhaps if he'd been asleep, had been dead to the world, he wouldn't have heard it. The haunted cry of a tortured soul roused him from sleep and like a shot he was out of his bed. Cassian grabbed the throwing knives that were always kept close to him and opened the door a crack. A moan filtered down the hall, coming from Jezebel's room followed by a sharp cry and the crack of glass shattering.
Eyes wide, Cassian ran on silent feet down the hall and looked around carefully before easing the door to the doctor's room open. It creaked softly and Cassian fought down a wince. So much for being stealthy about his anxious checking in on Jezebel.
"W-Who's there?" It even didn't sound like Jezebel. Surely that weak, fearful whisper did not belong to the self-assured and almost arrogant doctor he knew?
"Doctor? It's me, Cassian." He felt around for the light switch and flipped it, but nothing happened, the room remained in darkness.
"I think... I broke the lamp," Jezebel pointed out carefully, his voice hoarse as he tried to shake off the last remnants of the nightmare.
"That was talented," Cassian muttered. He carefully picked his way across the floor towards the approximate place he knew the window to be. Cassian pulled back the heavy drapes and moonlight spilled through the window and into the room. It was drawing close to a full moon, and the illumination was enough to chase back the shadows. There was something comforting in the cold light, and Jezebel gladly turned toward the window to watch the gravid moon and the brightly outlined silhouette of his servant.
"I'm sorry to wake you, Cassian. I had a nightmare."
"That's it! The world is going to end," Cassian sighed and Jezebel could clearly see the small man plant his hands on his hips.
"What?" There was enough light to see the confused look on Jezebel's face.
Cassian's grin was hidden in shadow.
"You? Apologizing to me? Surely this is like a sign of the Apocalypse or something." There was no masking the teasing tone in Cassian's voice.
Jezebel felt his lips twitch. "It would be like you thanking me, I know." The banter helped to drive the demons away and the doctor was infinitely thankful for Cassian's presence. It managed to be a comfort without robbing him of his already tattered pride. The shadow silhouetted in the window snorted with laughter and melted back into the darkness. Only the dim outline was visible as Cassian reached the doctor's bedside.
Thankfully, the shattered remains of the lamp lay on the other side of the bed, so Cassian did not need to worry about adding to his collection of wounds for the day.
Even in the murky light, Cassian could see that Jezebel was cradling his left wrist gingerly. The bed sank beneath the dark-haired man's weight and Jezebel raised an ironic eyebrow.
"Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?"
"Getting comfortable are we?" he asked archly, and could barely discern Cassian's smirk, though he heard it in the man's voice.
"Just avoiding the glass is all. Last thing I want to do at three in the morning is try to dig pieces of glass out of my foot." Cassian drew his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on his crossed arms. "You never answered my question."
"I'm fine. I just hit my wrist, that's all," Jezebel said and pushed back his heavy fall of ash-blond hair with a sigh. It was rumpled and tangled with sleep, its naturally wavy and curly state even more chaotic after his nocturnal twisting and turning.
"If you say so. You're the doctor." Cassian was silent for a long moment, his face turned towards the window and the pale beauty of the moon beyond it. "Being a doctor and all, I'm sure you of all people would know when a particular wound has an infection. And if you don't lance it to get all the nasty puss and stuff out of it, it's only going to get worse, right?"
Jezebel raised a brow again and eyed his subordinate narrowly for a few seconds. "And where are you going with this?"
"Something's bothering you," Cassian stated flatly. "And it's more then just your usual creepy obsession over Cain and those stupid eyes of his."
The doctor felt a flash of anger at Cassian's presumption and his back stiffened with outrage.
"And don't bite my head off for telling the truth," the other man added with a severe look.
Jezebel glowered at him, ashamed and annoyed with himself that he was so
transparent to the other man. Stubbornly, he looked away. "Father keeps pressing me to go to the first tier," the doctor muttered with a frown, a pale hand rising to press against the scar on his cheek.
"So why don't you?" For Cassian, going up to the second tier alone would be enough to get him an appointment with one of the doctors who could help him with his body. It would be a dream come true to a lowly third tier worker like himself. Of course, if he was on the second tier, he would also be of equal rank to Jezebel and would no longer be required to serve him.
"I like being second tier. It means I have more time for myself and my experiments rather then having to come up with these elaborate Machiavellian plans." His eyes grew distant for a moment. "There are not as many expectations or responsibilities as there would on the first tier."
"But won't you receive a greater reward once Delilah succeeds in its goals?" It baffled Cassian why Jezebel would be so reluctant to accept the power and possible honor that came to climbing to the highest rank of their organization.
"Perhaps." Jezebel's smile was bitter and sharp. "If Father succeeds in what I think he is planning, then we're all going to be in for a surprise." He shrugged carelessly as if he didn't care, and traced the scar marring his cheekbone.
"And what do you think he is planning?"
"Hell on earth, and himself as ruler of it all." Violet eyes were shadowed and full of tired despair. "You would do well to escape from our madness as soon as you can, Cassian. I do not think you're suited for hell, no matter how much you try to tell yourself you are."
Was this a test? Some twisted challenge of his loyalty and his dedication to their cause? Or was Jezebel actually speaking the truth? Who could tell when they talked of chasing shadows that might not even exist?
"What the hell are you talking about now? I'm not leaving until I get an adult's body, and if I gotta follow you nut jobs to hell to do it, so be it," Cassian grumbled gruffly and refused to look at Jezebel.
They were both so good at never saying what they truly meant. Would Jezebel understand what Cassian meant when he said he would follow them, him specifically, even to hell if need be?
Jezebel looked at the dark-haired man, eyes taking in the uncomfortable look on Cassian's face, and he chuckled softly.
That drew his servant's attention and Cassian looked at him, eyes sharp and geared for another fight. Anything to distract himself from the crackle of something that was filling the air between them.
The doctor's lips quirked up in that knowing smirk Cassian hated so much.
"What?" Cassian demanded.
Jezebel's smirk widened into an actual smile.
"What's so funny?" Grey eyes narrowed dangerously as Cassian's wiry and tightly packed muscles tightened.
"I'm just amused at finding you in a state of undress for the second time in a single day." Jezebel said it to make Cassian uncomfortable. That had not been the original reason for his smirking, but Jezebel was a practiced liar and had no problem with making Cassian believe that was the reason for his odd smile.
In his haste, Cassian had apparently forgotten to grab even a robe, and he was wearing nothing more then a tattered old pair of pants, too worn out to be anything more then sleep clothing.
Cassian looked down and sputtered for a moment. "Well, if someone wasn't tearing me from my bed thinking he was being murdered, I'd be a bit more properly attired, my lord." He managed to turn the respectful title into more of a sneer, and started to pull away self-consciously. Cassian hated people to see his tiny and disgustingly child-like form. Over the years, he'd managed to tone and sculpt the muscles until he was as trim and in shape as any twenty year old. Unfortunately, he still had the face of a fourteen-year-old boy, and that was the most frustrating part of all.
Much to Cassian's chagrin, when people looked at him, they just saw a boy, and a pretty boy, at that. Not the man he truly was. It upset him, and he started to climb off the bed, but Jezebel's hand snaked out and snagged his wrist to stop him.
"No, don't go. I'm not making fun of you, Cassian." The move startled them both. Jezebel hadn't planned on grabbing at Cassian like a needy child who didn't want to be alone.
Jezebel could feel the tension running through Cassian's arm as if he'd touched a live wire or something. The man all but thrummed with nervous energy. "Talk to me a bit?" It cost him more then he preferred to think about to ask that.
He hated to appear like he needed anyone, save perhaps his father. He never socialized with his fellow Delilah members, and generally seemed to hold human company in contempt. It was unprecedented that he would want Cassian to stay and talk with him.
Of course, Cassian could understand why the doctor didn't want to be left alone. The haunted look had not left Jezebel's face yet, and Cassian knew the doctor was being tortured still by his inner demons. Grey eyes were unreadable as Cassian nodded. He moved to lean against the headboard beside Jezebel. It was strange to sit next to the doctor; to nearly share a bed with him. "Will you tell me about the nightmare?"
Jezebel tensed almost imperceptibly.
Cassian would have missed it if he had not been looking for it. He could have said 'No, never mind. Don't worry about it' and tried placating the volatile doctor, but Cassian was not the placating sort of person. He calmly waited for Jezebel to either ignore his question or answer.
The older man didn't think Jezebel would explode or loose control on him over something like that, and eventually his patience was repaid as Jezebel cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"It was just a nightmare. Nothing much to it, Cassian," Jezebel muttered unhappily, and refused to meet Cassian's gaze even in the murky shadows of the room.
"If it were 'just a nightmare', you wouldn't have been scared witless," Cassian pointed out logically.
Jezebel grimaced as if he'd swallowed something bitter.
"Was it about your father?" Cassian wondered if he'd gone too far with that one.
Jezebel all but bristled like a cat at the mention of his father. "It's none of your concern." He probably had not meant for his voice to be so sharp. The doctor grimaced again and dropped his head unhappily. The pale light washed out all color, and his hair was painted silver as it fell around his shoulders. It pooled in the bedding and his lap. "I'm sorry."
"Two times in an hour? The world is certainly going to end." Cassian tried grinning and scooted down on the bed so he could curl on his side. He knew that by making his already small body smaller, he would appear less of a threat. By lying in such a submissive position, it would trigger certain instincts in Jezebel's brain without the doctor even noticing it. Cassian was a close study of body language, and he fully appreciated the various reactions and non-reactions a simple placement of a limb or the angle of a head could invoke in others.
By making himself seem as submissive as possible, he was hoping Jezebel would stop unconsciously seeing him as a treat, and would relax enough to tell him what was going on.
Due to his affinity with animals, Jezebel was a bit more in tune with such silent signals and Cassian's gesture did not escape his notice. He felt a wry smile curve his lips. "You're not going to let this go, are you, Cassian?"
"Not a chance. I've got all night. S'not like I've got other things to do," the grey-eyed man remarked, his face once more in shadow though his body was outlined in light.
"You know, you could always give up this life and go apprentice to that Austrian quack, Freud. I hear he loves analyzing people."
"Why would I go all the way to Austria to surround myself with nut jobs when I've got plenty right here?" Cassian snorted and a pale hand emerged from the shadow of his body to pick up an ashen curl. His fingers, so flexible and capable of such violence, brushed over the gilded hair softly. Cassian's face turned up to look at Jezebel with an unreadable expression. "Tell me about your dream, and I'll tell you a story."
Jezebel tried to fall back onto his old defenses of scorn as Cassian's suggestion struck dangerously close to home. "I'm a bit old for bed-time stories, Cassian."
"Nonsense. No one's ever too old for stories. It's just the older we get, the more likely we are to believe our own stories and lies. I'll tell you about this old lion I made friends with once in the circus." Cassian knew it was cheating to play upon Jezebel's fascination with animals, but no one ever accused him of playing fair.
Jezebel frowned, perturbed, but found his curiosity piqued all the same. "You're a strange man, you know that? Most people don't like to hear about other's nightmares."
"I'm not most people, so please humor me, hmmn?" Cassian's smile was surprisingly quick and charming.
It had Jezebel pausing in surprise.
"He was a really cantankerous old bastard, too," Cassian continued after a moment or two. "Nearly toothless, but there was this one stable boy who was just terrified of him."
"Fine, fine, I'll tell you," the blond man sighed with exasperation. "You were right, father was in there, and I was a kid again." A troubled look filled his eyes, though he did not look at Cassian. "I grew up outside the city with only mother and my sisters for company."
Cassian had not expected a rare glimpse into Jezebel's past, but he was not foolish enough to distract the doctor from his story with pointing the obvious out.
"The servants were all very nice to me, and it was a good life. Very peaceful, and filled with nature." When he talked, a soft expression slowly stole over Jezebel's features. There was such a wealth of kindness and love for life under the mask of a madman.
How could Cassian have not noticed it at first? Had he been blind? Perhaps he had just refused to see what was in front of him the whole time.
"Father would come every now and then. I looked forward to it so much." There was almost of touch of wonder in Jezebel's voice as he uttered those words. "I loved him, idolized him, really. Eventually, one by one, my sisters went away with him and never returned. I knew something was wrong because mother was always upset with him afterward. But she always welcomed him back."
Jezebel's lips twisted slightly in a look of discontent. "So, in this dream I'm running up this hill, and there's father standing with mother and all my sisters, and they're walking away from me."
Cassian remained quiet, scarcely daring to breathe lest he remind Jezebel that he was even there. It would no doubt stop the other man from explaining about the dream that had scared him so much.
"They're walking away, and no matter how fast I run, I can't catch up. I'm just a kid, you see, and even though I keep calling for them, they don't seem to hear me." Jezebel's fingers curled into tight fists in the bedding as his breathing started to accelerate slightly unconsciously. "I'm screaming for father, but he just ignores me, and I reach the top of the hill where they're standing, and there's Cain." He all but bit the words off with a growl.
"They're talking to him and calling him brother and son, all the things they used to call me." Jezebel's face hardened, and grew chilly empty. "I finally grab father's arm and tell him it's me, but he just looks right through me as if he doesn't even know me." Jezebel's breath was coming out in panting gasps now. "He didn't know me… wouldn't recognize me… 'Who are you? You're not my son. That's my son right there,' father said as he pointed at Cain."
Knowing what he did of the Cardmaster and Jezebel's relationship, it was entirely possible the man had said those exact same words to Jezebel at one point. The man seemed to take a sadistic sort of pleasure in pitting the doctor against his son and torturing them both with his poisoned brand of 'love'. It was sickening, really.
"He doesn't love me, I know that," Jezebel whispered, voice devoid of emotion and so terribly vulnerable. "He told me in the dream that he could never have a monster like me as a son. Then he shoved me back down the hill, and there was suddenly a sea of dead bodies. They were all reaching for me, trying to pull me down with them." The doctor didn't even seem aware of the tremor in his voice or the cold track of tears that glittered down his cheeks.
Cassian grimaced and could finally take no more. He grabbed one of Jezebel's hands and squeezed it warmly, trying to convey without words that he was here. "It was just a dream, only a dream," he tried to whisper soothingly.
Jezebel pinned him with an amethyst gaze that was shattered and filled with so much pain that it had Cassian's heart clenching in his chest.
"Is it? How is it any different from my real life?" A smile broke out on Jezebel's face, but it was filled with a mad sort of mania. "I'm continually chasing after father and Cain. And father will never recognize me as his son; not when he has his precious Cain." Hatred twisted Jezebel's features in a mask of pain and madness. "I'll always be chasing after them and they'll never love me because I'm just a disgusting human. I don't deserve it and I... I..." Jezebel's eyes had gone wide and glassy once more.
Cassian knew the doctor was steadily slipping further and further from sanity. He sat up quickly and nearly pounced on the other man as he enveloped him in a sudden hug that surprised the both of them. Actions could be so poignant and expressive when planned carefully and precisely, but sometimes the best sorts of actions were the unexpected and impulsive ones. Those artless and spontaneous actions were things that often changed everything without warning.
"So what if you're 'just a disgusting human'?" Cassian demanded hoarsely as wiry arms tensed about Jezebel. Cassian held him tightly in a hug, a hug he sensed the doctor was long overdue in receiving. "I care about you all the same. Doesn't that count for something?"
"Cassian..."
"Shut up. Don't you dare say it doesn't matter or that I don't know what I'm saying! It's my sodding emotions, after all. I'll kick your ass if you try that." Cassian had never been good at expressing himself. It all came out in a confusing tumble as he pressed his face into Jezebel's bony chest and pinned the blond down onto the bed with his own pathetic body weight.
The doctor was oddly silent for an endless eternity, then a hoarse and rusty laugh broke free of his throat. "We're a pathetic pair, aren't we?" Jezebel continued to chuckle bitterly, but he relaxed under Cassian's weight and even dared to embrace him back. It was strangely intimate to realize his hand could rest so comfortably in the curve of Cassian's back. He cradled that smaller body tenderly as a strange feeling washed over him.
He knew it was not proper to have these feelings for his servant. Hell, he wasn't even sure where they had come from! Because if someone had asked Jezebel just this morning what he thought of the grey-eyed 'boy' who was his servant, he would have sighed and admitted that he 'put up' with him and his curious attitudes.
"Speak for yourself, brat," Cassian snorted, and he curled atop Jezebel until his legs were between the doctor's and his ear was pressed to the hollow of Jezebel's throat. His hands, so deceptively child-like and small, were lost in Jezebel's thick mane of ash-blond hair. The oddly intimate press of Jezebel's hand against his back didn't repulse Cassian like he thought it would.
The dark-haired man had suspected for a while now that what limited sexual predilections Jezebel might have tended to lean towards his own sex. One had only to look at the way he nearly molested Cain every time he saw him to know that. He wasn't the creepy sort of pervert that Cassandra was, but Cassian wasn't overly surprised to find the doctor reacting to his presence like this.
What was surprising was that Cassian didn't mind this turn of events nearly as much as he thought he should have. He simply accepted this new facet of Jezebel without complaint. Cassian allowed himself grudgingly to acknowledge the small amount of enjoyment at the feel of the other's arms wrapped around him. It was a strange sensation, one he had nearly forgotten about in his miserable life.
"What are we doing here, Cassian?" Jezebel's voice was oddly husky and quiet as he looked down at that dark and tousled head solemnly.
The older man lifted his head away from the comfortable hollow it had found, and those smoky grey eyes met Jezebel's unflinchingly. "What do you want to go on here?" the man asked quietly.
What did he want? Jezebel didn't know anymore. It was hard to say what you wanted when your emotions were in a confusing tangle. "I..." A distressed look crossed Jezebel's face.
Cassian's hand rose to touch the doctor's face. His thumb stroked along the delicate line of cheekbone, and he smiled with surprising sweetness. "Do you want me to leave?" That was harder to ask than he'd thought it would be, because he really didn't want to leave, but he would if Jezebel wished it.
The blond shook his head, though, and pressed into the warm touch of Cassian's hand much like a cat would. "No." That single word was uttered softly, but it seemed to fill the room. The distance between them had begun to melt gradually until their noses brushed together. For a breathless moment, both paused. Fearful indecision and breathless anticipation was at war within both of them.
The last aching inch was covered, and their lips met.
Unlike the dime-novel romances wanted you to believe, the world did not tilt on its axis. It didn't even stop spinning. There weren't visible sparks or fireworks, either, but it was sweet as far as first kisses went.
Neither man was exactly experienced in this sort of thing, but they managed well enough. Up until now, Jezebel's disgust at humanity had kept him from associating with his own race like that.
As for poor Cassian, the only people who had been interested in his youthful form weren't exactly the type of people he'd been interested in.
The kiss was inexperienced, but sweetly shy. When they pulled back, each was smiling slightly hesitantly. Cassian bit the inside of his cheek and tried to think of what to say while Jezebel looked away and nervously started picking at the sheets.
"The old lion!" Cassian burst out suddenly, and Jezebel jumped, surprised.
Cassian's smile was filled with chagrin as he started to tell Jezebel the story about the old lion he had known in the circus. "So he had a reputation of being a 'man-killer' which was just preposterous since the poor old bastard was on his last legs before he even came to us. The ring master was a cheap son of a bitch, and paid next to nothing for him."
Jezebel frowned slightly. His dislike of humans and how they treated the animals that roamed this world with them was infamous. All the same, he seized upon the story determinedly. Anything to distract him from what they'd just done and the dangerous changes it presented.
"So here we are, we've no idea what to do with this poor lion. Heh. We didn't even have the kind of setup you need to house a large cat. They managed to rig together this cage and, honestly, if the old bag of bones had any energy he probably could have gotten out whenever he wanted." Cassian grinned wolfishly and rested his chin atop his arms as he folded them over Jezebel's chest.
"Picture this old flea-bitten ruin of a lion they're trying to 'train' to be this fearsome creature. Whenever they would try and get Leo to do a trick, he'd just amble back to his cage for a nap."
"Outwitted by a geriatric lion, eh?" Against his will, Jezebel found himself charmed by the story, though it could have been the warm and welcome weight of Cassain's slender body atop him that helped, too.
"Completely. This lion could run mental rings about some of the idiots they had trying to take care of him. So, finally, the ring master gets the bright idea to bring in a 'real' lion tamer. They guy was about as useful as tits on a bull, and was a mean drunk to boot." Cassian wrinkled his nose distastefully as if even now, years later, he could still smell the stale miasma of unwashed body and alcohol.
"Sounds like a wonderful individual. I hope the lion ate him," Jezebel commented coolly with a merciless look in his eyes.
The sad thing was, Cassian knew he was being completely serious. In Jezebel's eyes, there was no more fitting a death for a man like that then under the claws of the very same beast he was abusing. Of course, Cassian thought it a rather fitting death as well, so maybe they had more in common then he'd like to think.
"Funny you should mention that," Cassian grinned wolfishly once again, and Jezebel found an answering smile curving his lips. "The bastard thought the way to make an animal fierce was to starve him. That just made Leo mean, and one day while the drunken idiot was whipping him and trying to get him to perform, the lion turned on him. I think Leo just got it into his head that if this stupid man wasn't going to feed him, then he'd just take a few chunks out of him to tide him over."
"Hmph. I hope he wasn't too stringy a meal for poor Leo."
"Well, he didn't exactly get to finish him, but he mauled him up pretty good. I took pity on the poor bastard and slit his throat for him, though I do think they did end up feeding him to the lion anyway since they wanted to get rid of the evidence." Actually, Cassian was fairly certain they had. Because when the ring master had ordered him to get the body out of the tent, he'd dumped it where the burnable trash was. The body was gone when he returned with what he needed to burn it.
Leo had gotten a nice slab of something to eat that night, and Cassian had known better then to ask where it had come from.
Jezebel snorted softly and leaned his head back into the pillow. "You've got some odd stories, Cassian."
"I've lived an odd life," the man trapped in a child's body reminded him quietly.
Jezebel nodded solemnly and picked up one of Cassian's hands in his much larger ones. The older man's fingers were nimble and deceptively agile despite their small size. Jezebel's hands were as graceful and as feminine as the rest of him. The skin was a few shades lighter then Cassian's hand, and icy cold compared to Cassian's warm body.
"So, what did they do to the lion? Kill him, I imagine." That was a criminal waste in Jezebel's eyes, and he frowned unhappily while playing with the other man's fingers idly.
"Actually, no. The ring master was far too much of a cheapskate to get rid of something he paid for. Better to get a new trainer for him. And since he didn't like me, I got the job." Even in the dim light, Cassian could see the ironic amusement on the man's face.
"I can't quite picture you as a lion tamer, Cassian." Jezebel raised a brow and eyed his servant doubtfully.
The dark-haired man chuckled and shrugged good-naturedly. "I didn't think I had it in me, but I did a decent enough job of it. He only swiped at me once, and that was the end of it."
Jezebel touched Cassian's arm where he felt the raised ridges of scar tissue even in the darkness. They were jagged and twisted with old age, the skin hot and smooth to the touch. "Is this where he clawed you?"
"Yes. I don't hold it against him, though. He was hungry and scared of humans by that point. Once we got over our differences and I started feeding him regularly, he was tame enough." Cassian smirked impishly and tapped Jezebel on the chin playfully. "Hell, you calmed down once I started feeding you regularly. I guess it's a universal cure for cantankerous lions or humans."
"Hrmph!" Jezebel obviously disagreed with that statement. "If anyone here is cantankerous, it's you, Cassian." It was strange. When had teasing his servant become so easy or so satisfying?
"Maybe," Cassian agreed with a grin.
Jezebel could only shake his head in disgust. The squirming of the other man's body was getting a bit uncomfortable, so Cassian slid off of Jezebel and curled at his side.
The doctor missed the weight and warmth of Cassian atop him, but he would never admit it. He settled for wrapping an arm around the dark-haired man and curling him close.
Jezebel felt... odd. He had never been overly fond of tactile contact with humans. His father had been the one exception. But now, Cassian was being added to that slim list. It was comforting to feel another warm body pressing along his side. Jezebel didn't even mind when Cassian's hair tickled his skin as Cassian nestled his head into the curve of Jezebel's shoulder.
"Tell me another story?" Jezebel felt a little silly and like a child for asking for bedtime stories, but he'd discovered the dark-haired man had a knack for spinning tales. The blond found Cassian's surprisingly deep and husky voice comforting.
That was how he fell asleep, carried off by the quietly told tales of circus life and comforted by the warm press of Cassian's body against his side. Jezebel probably hadn't passed such a peaceful night like that since his childhood when he used to sleep with his pet lamb in his bed.
His mother and the servants had been horrified to find the angelic little boy curled up like a kitten next to the equally angelic little lamb the next morning. They had been unable to convince the child to stop sleeping with his pets in the bed.
Jezebel's last thoughts before drifting off had been about how his mother would have been scandalized. She would not have approved of him sleeping in the same bed as his servant, especially a very male servant in the body of a child. It just wasn't proper.
Jezebel decided he just didn't care.