Baz

I'm nervous.

I feel like I shouldn't be this nervous, because I'm confident Simon will say yes. I think. I know he loves me. We own a business together. We live together. We're adopting children together. If anything I should have already done this. The only thing I keep getting snagged on how young we are, but it's not enough of a reason to keep putting this off. If we're too young for marriage we're probably too young for all the rest, so fuck it.

The other thing is that I considered asking him in the winter on our anniversary, but now that the adoptions have officially gone through I've gotten too impatient. The kids don't need a married pair of parents, but I'd like them to have our shared last name. And I think our commitment to each other will only solidify to the kids how committed we are to them.

I just want to make this good, and I think that's where most of my nerves are coming from. Simon was raised with the bare minimum, hardly anything of his own, no family, and so I don't think he ever even had a fucking birthday party growing up. I want this to be special, something just for him.

Which is why I've set up a picnic on a secluded part of the beach of all of Simon's favorite food. It's approaching twilight as I drive us there, so the day has gotten cooler and it'll be dark enough for candles.

"I've made us dinner instead of going out," I tell Simon when I park, because I can tell he's confused why we're at the beach and not Tintern or Volga. I get out first, opening his door for him, and take his hand to bring him where I've set us up our own little area. I put a spell on it earlier to give anyone who might pass by a bad feeling and avoid the area, not unlike Watford's security, and a spell to keep the damn tent thing up, because with my luck it'll collapse on us in the middle of it all.

It's been a few days now, and I'm starting to lose it a little. I've been trying not to, after all, I'm not alone. I maintain my composure for Demelza's sake especially, she has her children back home to worry about.

Not that Dragon Simon is being mean, exactly, apart from kidnapping us and keeping us trapped at the top of a tower that didn't exist two days ago. He even brought me an umbrella. It's a bit torn on the one side on account of his massive claws, but there must be some part of my Simon in his dragon brain to remember that the sunlight hurts me. He's brought pillows, food, even water cupped in his claw. He's also amassed a pile of seemingly random objects, anything shiny, really, from hubcaps to a bright silver mailbox. It's ridiculous and maddening, and no amount of pleading or coaxing has convinced him to let us down.

And then Dragon Simon brings us a blond, and that's when things get really crazy. Because the blond brings a taller man chasing after him with a sword. Simon dives after him, and I don't think he means to fight, I think he's attracted by the shine of the blade, but the man attacks and then I finally do use it. Maybe Simon is a giant fire-breathing dragon, but he's still Simon.

My Simon.

I wish suddenly vampires could turn into bats so I could swoop down and rip the fucking sword from his hand myself, but I'm useless up here. I shout spells down, anything I think I can manage without a wand, Stay Put! when he isn't even wearing a hat, Take It Away! in an attempt to rid him of the sword, to no avail. Some Like It Hot! has no effect. Even Candle In The Wind! - and I swear this one makes him nearly fall, but it could just be the fact that he's trying to stab a giant dragon.

And then something incredible happens. As he gets a few slices in, the dragon grows smaller. He stabs Simon in the chest, and in the blink of an eye Simon isn't a dragon anymore, but himself. He has large red wings and a tail, like when Katherine had kidnapped him, and he falls to the ground in a heap. A mostly human heap.

"Simon!" I yell.

Whatever spell he was under reveals a trapdoor in the floor of the tower and I rush down with the others, though not to my freedom but to Simon's side. He's naked and covered with soot, I have to touch him to make sure he's real, that he's himself again. "Simon?"

Last year for Christmas I'd surprised Simon with a homemade breakfast and flowers. It isn't a fairly typical Christmas tradition, and nowadays I make breakfast at least every other morning anyway, but I've decided to continue it anyhow. A small vase of lilies sit in the middle of the table, and as I'm waiting for the sausage to finish cooking, an envelope in our mail holder catches my eye. It's to me from Darrow's bank, but I don't remember getting anything from them lately.

I turn off the stove and take it out, opening it up to make sure there isn't something wrong with my account. What a fucked Christmas surprise that would be.

But it's not that. Not at all.

My eyes grow bright as they read through it too fast, and then again, slower, in disbelief.

I hate that I've only just gotten this job, and I already need to ask for time off; possibly to quit. But I can't worry about dishes when Simon's missing. Kidnapped is the current theory, though none of us know yet by who.

It turns out that Derek's boyfriend, Barry, has also gone missing. He's sympathetic, already re-working the schedule for those who are unaffected, and gives me the time off. I thank him and head out, already trying to figure out where to look next.

Ever since I've been told where Simon is I've been going mental waiting for this moment. Everyone together, we've been told. It's our best chance against all the people on plasmids, all the guards and super powered people on the side of KIRIN. Alec, Isabelle and I wanted to formulate our own plan, but we didn't want to endanger everyone else in the facility. And theses people must be powerful if they've been able to cage Simon and Magnus, and snakes knows who else.

Alec and Isabelle have their own runes to help them. I cast There's nothing to see here! on myself, simply because if someone comes after me with fire I'm done for. When the first strike is made, I cast It's show time! to find where Simon's being kept. It'll be faster than me trying to scent him out among all the chaos.

The spell leads me to a large room. It's permeated with the scent of smoke and magic. It smells like a recently dowsed bonfire, so thick I feel ill from it. But worse is Simon, strapped to a table, hooked to tubes and wires. There's a man attending to him, perhaps trying to move him in the midst of the sounds of fighting coming from behind us, and I don't think. I cast, "Hit the floor!" My voice is a roar, and he's knocked backwards into a wall. When I'm sure he's prone, unconscious most like, I rush to Simon.

"I'm here," I tell him, touching his forehead, fighting the bile in the back of my throat and freeing him from the machines they've got him hooked up to.

My shift is nearly up at Semele's when I get a text from Simon: On my way home. do you want Chinese? I text him back with a yes please and my order, and don't receive a reply. I don't think much of it, but when I get to our flat an hour later and there's no sign of Simon or our dinner, that raises a few flags. He should have been home well before me. The Chinese place loves him because our order is always gigantic, they wouldn't make him wait this long.

I call Simon a few times to no avail. I try not to worry, I really do, but peril and Simon are old friends and I've yet to successfully come between them.

The logical thing to do, I decide, is to take the usual route to the Chinese place and ask if they've seen him, look for anything fishy. I take the path Simon should have taken, and I question the staff. Intensively. They haven't seen him, there was never an order placed. I go back the same way, thinking, what now?, when my luck takes a turn. I see his phone off the sidewalk, laying inconspicuously under a bush, like it's been tossed carelessly away. Simon loves his phone, he would never do this. I grab it up and look it over, but it tells me nothing. No calls or texts besides the one he sent me and my answer.

For a long, terrible moment, I don't know what to do. I don't know who would hurt him. No, that's wrong. I do know who would hurt him, if they had reason to suspect me.

I walk briskly toward the warehouse, and call the hospital to make sure Simon isn't a patient. He isn't. When I get to the warehouse, Roger greets me with a look of baffled amusement. "You're early," he says, and I have to resist shoving him against the wall and demanding answers. I pretend like nothing's wrong, and here...nothing is. Everyone is acting normally. The regulars are here. No one is accusing me of being with the police, no one's acting shifty.

I cut out early without explanation. Well, technically I wasn't due there yet anyway.

Again, I'm lost. Then, of course. Katherine.

It's a long shot. I'm not sure what reason she'd have to take Simon again, except maybe to fuck with me, but it's the only lead I've got. I call her and demand she releases Simon.

"I haven't seen your farmboy." She sounds bored.

"So you say."

"Oh, please."

"...You're not in love with me again, right?"

She hangs up.

I realize the call was a last ditch, desperate attempt. Who, then? What? The Humdrum? I need help, someone more powerful than my nose and my paltry finding spells. I go to High Gate Terrace and knock on Magnus' door, hoping to find him and Alec at once.

What began as a wonderful start to the New Year turned into a total disaster. I shared a kiss with Snow at midnight, and I'd been musing on what a charmed life it really was here in Darrow, when rabid animals began attacking. It wasn't a problem for Snow and I; regular animals, no matter how aggressive, aren't too strong to overcome magic.

But it had made the night long and chaotic, and I'm just glad to be back in our flat. I follow Snow in through his front door without thinking much of it, and wander into my bedroom to take off my coat and scarf, scrubbing a hand through what used to be nicely combed hair.

"Crowley, I can't decide whether I need to shower, or sleep this day off," I say through the gap between our rooms, sitting down on my bed to untie my shoes and take them off.

I don't ever really get mail, but I check my box daily just in case. Today I find a wrapped gift from Magnus, of all people. It doesn't smell suspicious, but after the cat thing I'm not entirely sure I want to open it. Back in my bedroom I cast a few revealing spells, but they don't identify anything out of the ordinary.

When I open the package, two smaller items are inside.

I take a look at them and I'm so embarrassed my face lights up like a tomato. I quickly push the presents back into the original box and stand up. I should just chuck them and leave it at that, but I'm oddly bothered by the idea of Magnus thinking I've kept them (and used them!). My pride forces me to walk across town all the way to Magnus' apartment, box tucked under my arm, and knock on his door.

It's been gloomy all day, but that suits my mood just fine. It also doesn't sting for me to be out during the day when the sun is hidden, which is a perk. So instead of laying in bed doing nothing, I've come for a walk, passing the time until I can hunt.

I'm barely to the edge of the park near the forest when I smell it. Blood. Magic. So much magic my skin tingles from it. It smells of flowers, a whole field of them, and summer, yet underneath it is a familiar scent; smoke. But the blood distracts, the scent of it is thick and cloying in the back of my throat. My fangs pop just from a whiff of it. But it's that smoke smell that pervades, pulls me out of my bloodlust. Snow's magic, and blood.

No.

I don't know if the Humdrum has a smell, and I can't imagine it would be roses, but I'm running toward it no matter what. I force my fangs back and burst through the trees, nearly pushing one down completely because it's gotten in my way.

The scene I come upon isn't at all what I'd imagined in the short time it took me to get here. A small herd of unicorns, faintly glowing, gathered beneath a large tree. And Snow, huddled in the branches, pressing at a wound. His shirt is soaked with blood, it's stained his fingers, it's dripping. It smells like magic and fire and...

The unicorns scatter at my arrival. They can probably smell what I am. I barely notice, I'm staring up at Snow, nostrils flared, trying not to freak the fuck out.

"Are you fighting unicorns?" I force out, trying to act normal. Trying to keep myself in check.

I'm tired. I'm tired of being here. I'm tired of everything being out of my control, of my leg, of living with Snow, of feeling things. I'm tired of having to hunt in this damned forest.

I do the perfunctory checking my surroundings to make sure no one's around. I've seen houses nearby, and while I don't think game hunters or hikers frequent the woods at night, you never know. Normals are always doing stupid things. I don't need to light a fire or carry a torch to see my way, I can see in the dark just fine. And anyway, it's dusk, not nighttime. Not yet.

I sit down at the base of a tree, gingerly settling my leg, and wait. Hunting spells only work close range, so I have to wait until I can see an animal before luring it over. Squirrels are the easiest, but I've been trying to mix it up so I don't eat all of Darrow's squirrel population.

Sometimes, there are areas of the forest where I swear all I have to do is think of an animal to make it appear.

This doesn't seem to be that place, as I wait for what feels like forever before a raccoon finally scampers up a nearby tree. I cast Animal crossing!, and watch the raccoon waddle its way over to me. (I came up with this spell.) (I couldn't even get a grade for it in Elocution because how was I to explain I created a spell to lure small animals?) I look into its beady eyes and cast a stunning spell, then a cleaning spell, and finally let my fangs out to have a good, long drink. It's all routine after thirteen years of surviving on animal blood. When I'm done, I stand and look for a place to throw the remains.