Hello!

This is my first Simon/Baz (and Carry On) fic, and I'm excited to be back on !

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, they all belong to Rainbow Rowell.

_+_+_+_Baz

My father has never truly accepted my relationship with Simon. Well, it's not like we have ever flat out said that we are dating either. That just sounds like a real-life nightmare waiting to happen. It has always just been easier to keep up pleasantries with them thinking that Simon is just my friend, rather than my boyfriend.

It's been years since Simon defeated the Humdrum, and the Mage's death. The holes in the magical ozone haven't healed yet, the feeling is starting to become bearable around the Pitch mansion. Eventually the holes will fill back up, but it will take a lot longer than five years for there to be no evidence.

Simon and I have arrived at the family home for Christmas dinner. We have been standing outside for a few minutes, neither of us entirely anxious to go inside.

"All right?" he asks me. I usually am fine with coming and going here, even though the lack of magic makes it a bit difficult to breathe.

"Yes, I'm fine," I sigh.

I push the door open and we are greeted by Vera. She takes our coats and tells us that my mother is in kitchen, and my father in the den. When Vera has left, I feel Simon slip his hand into mine. It's like being teenagers all over again. His first time to my house, out of breath and filthy from his run here, plays in my mind as we walk through the foyer and into the adjoining den. My father is reading and Mordelia is on her laptop.

I let go of Simon's hand.

"Hello, Father," is how I announce us once we've stepped through the door frame. Father looks up, does us a once-over, and says "Hello, Basilton. Hello, Simon." There's no sign of dislike or coldness in his voice, it is all very professional, without much emotion.

Mordelia just sneers sarcastically at us. Simon gives her an eye-roll. She goes back to typing on her laptop, a bit of a blush on her cheeks.

My family is no longer surprised when Simon enters, they have become accustomed to him being here. They do hide their distaste for him though, fortunately, as they always have. Almost two decades of holding a grudge against him and The Mage hasn't subsided yet. The World of Mages was on the brink of war and even though Simon destroyed the threat and killed the one person they hated the most, the resentment was still there that the Old Families didn't get to rule the World and Watford once again.

Simon and I sit down. I can feel Simon fiddling with his hands next me. We aren't close enough to be touching, that would be too obvious, but I know what he is doing. He's nervous about being here, a Normal in one of the most powerful Old Families' homes. It's been too many times to count that we have been here, holidays, birthdays, and just because, he never ceases to feel like an outsider. True, I guess he would be an outsider, but since we have been together, I try to assure him that it doesn't matter. I've tried to stopped going for the lowest blow to him when we argue. I can tell that Simon is feeling uncomfortable in his suit. He looks stunning, in a grey suit, similar to the one he wore our first Christmas together in this house. He's outgrown the original one, but I made sure he got a new one so that I could look at him in it.

I don't think Simon will ever fully realize how deeply in love with him I am. He drives me crazy when he shrugs or mumbles or stammering through an incomplete sentence, but it's all worth it when his eyes meet mine or our hands touch.

My father, or sister, has asked something, but I'm focusing on looking at Simon in the corner of my eye and missed it.

"Sorry?"

My father looks up from his book, using his finger as a bookmark, "I asked how things are in London. How are you liking your school?"

He disapproves of my school since I didn't go to Oxford like the rest of the family.

"University is going well. Economics are as interesting as ever." I don't add any cynicism to my comment, I'm always completely sincere about economics.

"And Simon," my father continues, "how are your studies?" It is a polite question, but one that Father will know will make him even more uncomfortable. We have always known that Simon Snow is not a great student.

"They are going as well as expected, sir," he says, calmly, with a bit of humour. I think I'm as surprised as he at the levelness of his voice.

After all, this is the first time we have been near my family since my love, my Simon, asked me to marry him.

My father hmpfs a bit at that. He has grown to accept Simon's presence, and is polite, but still does not appreciate sarcasm.

"Do you have your major picked out for your Master's program, yet?"

"Not yet. Since I've just finished my Bachelor's in Environmental Studies, I haven't decided what to specialize in for my Master's yet. I have taken up helping Professor Bunce with some of his research with the holes. I may focus more on Restorative Ecology for my Master's since it's going so well." He's nervous. He can never shut up when he's nervous.

"And what has Professor Bunce discovered on the holes, Mr. Snow?"

"Not much has changed his last published report, sir. The holes will eventually fill back up, it will just take some time." Now his uncomfortableness is visibly showing. He's been speaking with his therapist, but the guilt of this will weigh on him forever. It doesn't matter what Penny or I say, he will beat himself up for the rest of his life. Sometimes it shows just how much he misses magic, for him it was like suddenly losing an arm. All of that power coursing through him, vanished.

Mordelia pipes in, "Well good, this place is almost insufferable with this hole over us." She's grown to her teenage self, she started going to school at Watford last year. I have never spoken to her directly about Simon's and my relationship, but I have a feeling she's heard all about our dance and coming out the last night I spent at Watford. Maybe I should chat with her. I've never been very close to my siblings, because of the vampire thing. The vampire thing has kept me at a short distance between all of family members, except Fiona.

Fiona is loving her work as a vampire hunter. She's traveled all over Europe ruining vampires. I know that she would never hurt me, but I wonder how much her work has changed her opinion of me.

After Mordelia's remark, there's an uncomfortable silence that settles over the room.

"I think Simon and I should go say hello to Mother." I stand and Simon follows my lead.

"All right, then," Father says, turning back to his book.

We leave the den and across the foyer to head towards the kitchen. Mother is in there, staring at the whiteboard, trying to organize all the children's activities.

"Hello, Mother."

"Hello, Mrs. Grimm."

She turns to the door where we've entered, a bit startled.

"Oh, hello, Basil, Mr. Snow."

The twins are sitting at the table, playing with toys, and the toddler is sitting close, watching.

"Happy Christmas," I say to my siblings. They echo it back to me, and start asking about Father Christmas, and if I think he'll be here for everyone and what he might bring. The twins continue going back and forth and the youngest starts to chime in as well with thoughts of cars, stuffed animals and the other goodies Father Christmas will bring.

Mother writes a note on the whiteboard, then turns to us, appraising us. "Well, don't you two look nice," she says, genuinely smiling. "Dinner won't be ready for a little while. Have you already spoken with your father?"

"Yes, we have. We just stopped in to see you. We are going to go up to the library, there's a book I've been wanting to grab for school."

"Well, then. I will make sure that someone comes and grabs you two from the library."

We thank her, wave to the children, and head upstairs.

"I will never get over how huge this house is. Are there rooms you've never seen?" Simon seems to have relaxed after our short conversation with my stepmother. The entire family might make him nervous, but he doesn't bring it over to our alone time.

I think about his question, "Hmm, it's likely. I don't even know how many rooms there are. I'm sure that Vera would know, she's been with the family for a lifetime." Simon is looking around the halls as if it's the first time he's seen it. His jaw is open slightly as he observes. We've reached the library and he's finally stopped gawking and meets my gaze.

"Come on," I nudge my head towards the door.

I didn't lie to my stepmother about the book, but really I wanted to take Simon somewhere that he would be more comfortable. Simon runs a hand along some of the books on the shelves. He stops and leans his shoulder against the books. I step over to him, gently grabbing his wrist, sliding my hand to entwine with his fingers. He looks down at his hand, he looks worried.

I kiss the mole on his cheek, whispering against his skin, "How are you?" I didn't need to ask this question; I know exactly how he is. He shrugs and leans against me.

"Fine. I just... just..." He steps back and pushes his hand through his hair, exasperated. He still won't make eye contact with me. I brush his curls away from his face and pull his chin up so he looks at me. He sighs, he knows the look I'm giving him is more than my words could ever say. He bites his lip. "We're engaged, and yet we still haven't told your family that we're together. It's been five years..." He pauses, I think he's choosing his words. "I know that your family will never forgive me, and that's okay, but maybe... Ah, forget it. This is fine the way it is for now."

I shake my head, confused, "What're you on about?"

He gives me a half-grin, "Never mind, it's nothing. I was just going to ask if we were ever going to tell your family about us. I may even take your name someday." He winks. The little bit of blood I drank this morning rises to my cheeks.

"Simon Snow-Pitch?" The thought is ridiculous and embarrassingly lovely. We are engaged, planning the smallest wedding ever, and he's standing here, asking if we should tell my family. I still cannot fully admit to them what I am, even though they make small remarks to make sure that I am okay. I breathe through my nose, a semi-laugh, "Tell my father that not only is the heir to the Pitch family a vampire, but a queer as well? No thanks, I think I'll save that fight for another day."

Simon takes his left hand, his free hand, and runs it along my cheek. He cups my face, turning me toward him. With lidded eyes, he leans in to me and gives me a full kiss. He pulls away before I've had my fill, I'll never get my fill of his kisses.

"Whatever you say, Baz." He's smiling, it's amazing sometimes how he can just resolve his internal conflicts so quickly. I know it bothers him for us to be so distant from my family, having never known his. He just wants to belong, and a family would be a good start. It's just unfortunate that my family will not be that one.

"Remember that second day together? The day after we started snogging?" He says snogging in the most ridiculous way – lengthening the 'o' and wiggling his eyebrows at me. We may 23, but he still acts like he's 14. I try to glare at him, but my smile is ruining it.

"You mean that the easiest way for you to get your way was to start kissing me here in the library?"

He's smiling fully now, thinking on it. Nothing brings back the memories of our 'should I kiss you' or 'should I kill you' phase then being back to where it started. I feel my face flush (as much as it can) again as I see his eyes get hazy as he leans in again. He uses one hand to tug at my shirt, loosening some buttons so that he can touch my stomach, and uses his other hand to hold me in place. I have one hand on his chest, and the other is... somewhere. I can't focus on anything but his mouth on mine and his hand stroking my stomach.

He pulls away for moment, smiling widely, "Hopefully this doesn't turn out like last time."

"What?" I can't think straight. All I can think about is my handsome fiancé not kissing me while his hand undoes a few buttons of my shirt.

"Penny and Agatha were on their way, and Vera walked in on us kissing." He gives me another deep kiss and tugs my shirt from my trousers. I moan into his mouth. Why does he always have to be so bold, so much braver than I am?

"Snow…" I mumble against our lips.

"Oh!"

The sounds startled both of us, and we spring apart. Breathless, flushed, my shirt half open, we turn to see my sister, Mordelia, standing in the library with her hand on the doorknob.

I close my coat to hide my exposed stomach. "What is it?" I'm trying desperately to control my breathing and control the uncomfortable parts of my body.

"What do you mean 'what is it'?!" her eyes are showing just how furious she is. She hasn't raised her voice, but the anger is clearly there. "Is this some sort of joke?"

Mordelia would have been the only one to be accepting of this in my family, but I see now that my absence from this house and her life would mean that she is getting all her ideas and fuel from her parents. Is it too coincidental that Simon was just asking about this…? (Absolutely. This is completely ridiculous.)

"Mordelia, this is far from a joke. What is it that you want?" Of course I'm trying to divert her. I know it isn't going to work.

She stomps her heel and runs out. I knew it...

Simon and I exchange a quick look. He has his hand covering his mouth and looking mortified. I'm not sure what is more upsetting for him: the fact that we've been caught, or that it was my 12-year old sister, who shouldn't be seeing these things yet (honestly, the morality of this guy.)

I quickly check to see which way she went. Relief crushes me when I see her turn towards her room, instead of downstairs.

"Simon, stay here." I'm about to leave the room when I pause, "and try not to look guilty." I give him a smirk.

He blanches, "What! Where! …" The rest of his non-sentence is lost as I calmly follow after my sister.

Vera is in the hallway, "Mr. Pitch, supper should be ready in a few moments. I thought I would give you and Mr. Snow a warning."

Crowley, the audacity. "Thank you, Vera. Mr. Snow is in the library. I am just going to get Mordelia." Vera gives me a knowing look and nods.

Damnit. Damnit it all hell.

The house is huge and it takes me a few moments to get to her room. I realize I'm shaking when I reach my sister's door. What does she think? How much is she going to say? Has this how I've wanted my family to find out all along? This way, I don't actually have to say the words to Father. Mordelia could be mad and say it all for me, and in just as many horrible words as anyone else would say.

I've barely knocked on the door, when it swings open. She is looking red-faced and pissed-off (for lack of a better term) when she sees me standing there, staring me dead in the eye. It is just now that I remember that my shirt is half open.

"Mordelia. May I come in?"

"Absolutely not," she huffs. Alright, fine then.

"Don't be childish, Mordelia. Please allow me to come in and explain."

"There's nothing to explain, Baz. You've been hiding the fact that you are kissing Si- Mr. Snow." Her pale face flushed even further.

I'm a bit puzzled. "Mordelia, please, you must understand that..." I notice again the way she's looking at me. "Wait, wait. Do you have a crush on Snow?" Her face is almost purple with embarrassment. She almost slams the door in my face, but I put my hand on it. My strength (even if I weren't a vampire) would be no contest for her. "Seriously?"

"Doesn't matter," she spits, "I'm still telling Father."

Yup, I have now lost all of the blood that I had in me. "No." I feel like I've been body slammed.

"Why shouldn't I? Father would want to know!"

"And what is it that I would like to know?"

Both Mordelia and I jump sharply when the cool voice sounds from behind me.

Oh shit.

We turn and look at our father. He's standing there, expecting us to speak immediately, he isn't exactly a patient man.

"Hello, Father." I'm desperately trying to remain calm, not to lose it (dear god, please don't let me lose it.)

"I was just telling Basil, here, that you would probably like to know that he isn't feeling well." She said the words so quickly, I didn't even time to try and interrupt her. I had no idea what she was going to say. Covering for me was not one of the options that just went through my head.

Father raised an eyebrow, "Is that so? Would you like for me to have Vera bring something for you?" He actually sounds like he believes it. It must be from how grey my skin looks, considering that I've lost all of my blood and am going to keel over any second now.

"No, thank you, Father. I will be fine and will join for dinner."

He nods, "Good then. Dinner will be ready shortly. Go clean up and meet us down there." He turns and walks off. Mordelia and I stare at him until he's no longer visible. She pulls me inside her room.

"You owe me. Big time."

"What just happened?!" I'm utterly in shock. I'm being threatened one second, and the next I'm being saved, all by the same person.

"First of all, compose yourself. You look ridiculous." She motions to my suit. I roll my eyes but hastily gather myself. "Second, Father would absolutely disown you if he found out from me about you and Si- Mr. Snow."

"Jeez, you are allowed to call him Simon. He isn't going to be upset to hear someone call him by his first name." She won't meet my eyes, and is still looking flushed. "Listen, it's fine. Thank you for covering for me. I had actually wanted to tell you, since I figured you are my closest sibling. However, I don't want to hurt your feelings, or make you uncomfortable carrying around a secret."

She shuffles her feet, "It's fine, you know. I've known for a while. People at school still talk about you two. Going from the worst of enemies to dancing at the leavers ball. Some people think it's a miracle, others think terrible things about you two."

I sigh through my nose, "Not surprising. We did make a spectacle of ourselves. But, Mordelia, I need you to promise that you will not bring this up with Father and Mother. It's really important to me… and to Simon."

She glares at me, all sense of discomfort leaving her, "Whatever, I promise not to say anything. But, it's not like they haven't heard the rumours, either. You know that they are just ignoring it."

"And that's the way I intend to keep it for the moment."

Mordelia and I head out. We find Simon standing at the top of the stairs. He looks uncomfortable, but greets us.

"Hey Mordelia," he says tentatively. She glares and continues on at a faster pace. "Oh well, all right then." Simon looks at me, "Everything okay?"

I nod. It doesn't matter, nothing matters to me right now except him. His golden curls and his moles. He looks so perfect.

"Let's go," I say. He suddenly looks horrified.

At dinner, I pull my usual stint, taking minimal food so as not to show my fangs. Simon fills his plate; he has no problems eating enough food for the two of us.

Polite conversation goes on throughout dinner, it's mostly my stepmother speaking with Simon and me. Since it's Christmas Eve, the children are excited about Father Christmas coming and the brushing of snow outside. I notice that my father isn't participating as much, and that Simon is choosing his words carefully.

Dinner and dessert pass by without much incident. It feels like we've been in this house for an eternity, but it's only been a few hours. I'm desperate to be alone with Simon. I just want to tell him about Mordelia's and my conversation, and then have him shut me up in his normal way. (You know, it involves his mouth on mine.)

After dinner we excuse ourselves to go to bed. No one questions our decision. It was a long drive up here, and I desperately need to hunt and eat (especially after today's ups and downs.)

When we reach my bedroom, I see that nothing has changed (because nothing is allowed to change, thanks to the Historical Society.) There are no pillows or blankets on the couch, but there is an extra pillow on my bed. (Sneaky, Vera, very sneaky.)

Simon sighs heavily and removes his suit jacket. "Crowley, it's uncomfortable in this thing." He goes to remove the tie I forced him to wear.

"Here, let me," I offer, stepping to him. He's shorter than me, so it's easier for me to plant a kiss on the top of his head as I loosen the knot in his tie. If I don't untie it, he'll just ruin the tie. He's always been lousy a taking care of his nicer clothes (or most things, in general.)

After I've gotten the tie loose, I pull it through the collar and he unbuttons the top button of his shirt. He smiles at me, a smile that reaches his eyes. "You look amazing, Baz."

"You're the one who looks amazing. It was terrible trying to keep my eyes off of you all day. Can't give ourselves away so easily, now can we?" Just as I say the words, the horrible feeling of Mordelia finding out the way she did hits me. What if she doesn't keep her word? What if she is telling Father and Mother right now?

"Baz, stop it."

"What?"

"Whatever you are thinking about, stop it." Simon brushes his hand against my cheek. He feels hot compared to my cold, dead skin. He leans in and kisses me. My worries are forgotten for that moment.

I pull away first, "I need to hunt." I need to hunt and gather my thoughts before I sit down with him and try to talk between kisses.

"I'll be here."

_+_+_+_ Simon

I try not to feel abandoned when Baz leaves to go hunt. His skin was too grey and he barely ate during dinner, so I know it's only out of necessity.

I finish undressing and take my pajamas out of my bag. I lay my suit over the back of the couch. I know that Baz will yell at me when he sees, but I don't mind. It'll give me an excuse to quiet him with kisses. The view out his window shows the forest on his grounds. The night is cloudy and cold. The window fogs up with my breath as I check for any sign of movement out there. Baz won't be back for a little while, which gives me time to think.

I take a silver ring out of my suit trouser pocket and sit down on the bed. The ring isn't anything fancy, just a thin silver band. One that matches the one I gave to Baz when I proposed.

"Will the silver burn you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know! The whole vampire and silver thing?"

"Snow." He deadpans. "You are thinking of werewolves."

Ugh, Baz just has to make me feel like a moron, doesn't he?

I proposed to him about two months ago, just because I felt like it. I had purchased us the rings a couple weeks before. They weren't expensive, and they aren't the wedding bands, but I wanted something to give him when I finally had the chance to propose. I had made up my mind a long time ago that I wanted to stay with Baz forever (however long forever is between a vampire and a Normal.)

It was an overcast day, so we were out for a walk. People would sometime gawk at us, or completely avoid us. (Oh yes, just your average supermodel-looking men walking down the street holding hands.) I had his ring in my pocket, I wanted today to be the day I finally ask my question. Baz eventually got fed up with the people and cast the "there's nothing to see here" spell. Everyone stopped staring after that.

"Baz," I swing our hands a little more, just to make him blush.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think you are immortal?"

He sighs, "Crowley, Snow. Haven't we talked about this enough? I don't know. I probably won't be once the Coven has truly gotten their wish and killed all of the vampires."

That was a sad answer to a badly phrased question. "No, what I'm wondering is if you'll stop aging one day, and I'll be growing old without you."

He stops walking, which causes me to pull at his hand. "What?" He's giving me his famous 'drop it, or I'm going to call off our long-standing truce and murder you here in the streets' look.

"Look, no. I'm not asking you to turn me or anything. I just..." I've lost it, I lost everything I thought about saying to him to get to where I wanted this to lead. "Okay, never mind. I didn't mean... Listen, I wanted to ask you something."

A jogger smacks into my shoulder, thanks to the spell that Baz cast. Irritated, I pull us off the sidewalk and into the park close by.

"Snow, whatever you are trying to say, you better get it out quick before I cast something worse than allowing people to randomly bump into you."

I run my hand through my hair, trying to get the words. "Baz, how does forever with me sound?"

"Depends. Right now, forever sounds like a long time."

I close my eyes and try not to let that settle too deeply. He's still very good at getting under my skin and using his words like knives.

"What I mean... If you could... what if... what if we could spend what our forever, however long that is, together? Make it official, you and me, together?" His features soften as I fumble. When I finish, his eyebrows come together in confusion or irritation (they tend to be one in the same for Baz. He hates being confused.)

"Snow, what are you getting at?"

Suddenly, I'm shaking with nerves. It's probably a good thing at this moment that I no longer have any magic, it would be leaking from every pore on my body, I'm so nervous. I drop his hand and reach into my pocket and feel the little silver ring.

I meet his intense stare. I hold the ring in my hand so he can't see it. I swallow dryly. I stumble through it. "I mean, that I want to spend my forever, my life with you, Basilton Pitch."

I get to one knee in front of him. I look up at him and see that his expression still hasn't changed.

"How about it? Forever with me?"

Baz looks like I'm about to offer him a pixie head. I show him the ring instead.

"Marry me?"

I'm not sure how many more ways to say this. I'm sweating and he's still glaring. His eyes slowly shift from my face to the ring I'm offering him.

"Snow..."

"I was kind of hoping this would be more of a 'Simon' situation."

His face softens and he gets down on his knees with me. He's trying to contain the smile on his face, and my world brightens.

"Yes, Simon. Yes, of course, I'll marry you."

I'm so happy (relieved is actually more of the word) and I smile back at him.

"Yes!" He throws his arms around my neck and leans in to kiss me. Too bad the motion causes me to fall over in the grass. (it was more difficult to keep my balance on one knee than I thought it would.)

Without hesitation he is kissing me all over. When we finally pull away I get a wonderful view of his full smile (fangs and all.) I don't know how many times I've seen him this happy, with this much emotion truly showing in his features. (It's not very many.) I'm taking this in as much as I can, trying to remember every detail of his face.

"Oh, the ring!" We sit up and I go to offer it to him again.

Just as he holds out a hand to take it, I pull back.

"Will the silver burn you?"

I'm smiling thinking about it. That day is the happiest day of my life so far. Baz is so wonderful; he deserves to be happy. I just hope that I can make him that happy for the rest of our days.

So far we've told Penny, who was ecstatic for us. It's possible that she will be the only one to come for our "ceremony." She's told Agatha, who still lives in California with her dog. Agatha and I write to each other occasionally, but I think it pains her to talk about that night, or what happened all together during our last year at Watford. Even just writing to me brings it back, and Agatha just isn't as strong as she's lead us to believe.

There's a knock at the door. I stand up quickly, searching for anything I need to hide. I slip the ring on my finger so I don't lose it and grab a dressing gown off the back of the door.

Vera is standing there when I open the door. She's holding a tray with food.

"For Mr. Pitch," she says handing the tray to me.

"Thank you, Vera." She turns to leave. "Wait."

"Yes, Mr. Snow?"

I shift my feet and clear my throat. "Thank you. For you know, not saying anything, on that day when you saw. In the library..."

Her smile is warm, "Not to worry, Mr. Snow. There are weirder things I've seen in this house than that moment. I've learned to just ignore most of the going ons here. There's nothing to worry about."

I nod, not sure what else to say. "Ah, okay. Well, thank you. Good night."

"Good night, Mr. Snow."

When Baz finally comes back, I'm reading one of my textbooks. Well, not so much reading as I am staring at the same paragraph for 20 minutes. I'm content but worried about Baz and what our engagement means for his future as a Pitch. With his sister seeing us, this could end badly. I don't even want to imagine what "badly" would be to the Pitch and Grimm families. Especially after my short conversation with his father...

I stand up when he enters the room. I wasn't expecting him back yet, but maybe more time has gone by than I thought. This is why I don't allow myself to think, I miss too much while I'm in my own head.

"Hey," he says, quietly closing the door.

"Welcome back." I step over to greet him with a kiss. He's always so much warmer just after he's fed. I ignore the faint taste of blood when we kiss with open mouths.

Baz still won't allow me to watch him fed, which I get, but I'm still very curious about it.

When we break apart, the air feels heavy. It suddenly feels a bit awkward, even though I'm happy that he's back. (The gargoyles on the bed were staring at me earlier.)

"Vera brought some food up for you. It should still be warm." I gesture to the tray sitting on the table near the fireplace.

He smiles, "You're wearing your ring." He must have noticed it when I moved my hand to show him the tray. I blush.

"I was thinking of that day. You almost ripped me to shreds."

"Well, thank goodness I allowed you to finish speaking before I did." And just like that I feel a million times better.

Mulling about if he really wanted to be with me (normal insecurities) and whether he is debating on it because of his family…

His family!

"Baz!" He's stepped away and is startled when I say his name. "What happened with Mordelia?"

Now he shrugs, and continues to the tray. "She won't say anything. She's heard everything at school, anyway. Our Leavers Ball stunt really did it in for us."

"Oh… does she feel like she's been betrayed? Is she mad that she's had to deal with the rumours?"

"No, she's mad because she has a crush on you."

"Oh… Wait, what?"

Baz chuckles and starts picking at the food on the table. He pauses to work up a small flame in his hand, using it to start a weak fire in the fireplace. I go over to throw some logs on it.

"What do you mean, your sister has a crush on me?"

Baz looks at me with an eyebrow raised, and a cocky grin on his face, "Well, why wouldn't she have a crush on the Chosen One?"

"Baaaz! How many times do I have to ask you to not call me that? And I mean like never, ever again."

Instead of answering me, he takes a large bite of turkey, smirk on his face. The fire helps add some light to the room, but the shadows just remind me of the first night we laid in front of this fireplace and kissed until we couldn't kiss anymore.

I sit down in one of the armchairs and watch him. Not intently, that would be creepy, but he knows that I love his fangs.

"So Mordelia accepts us? What all did you say?"

Baz is looking at me, studying me. "Nothing much. I didn't have to say much. She saw us kissing and knows that we are in some form 'together' but I didn't tell her we're engaged."

"Okay. That's good. I guess."

I take a moment to process this. I really need to think about the consequences of my actions more. We are getting married so soon, and I don't want anything to change that. Mordelia... Mr. Grimm... I really need to tell Baz.

"Baz, do you think that we should just come out and say that we are going to get married?" I try to ask this nonchalantly, so as not to start an argument.

He puts down his fork, watching his motion carefully. Baz seems to have a weight dropped on him. "Come on, Simon. We've talked about this. I know my parents aren't blind or ignorant. They choose to accept what seems to be best for the family. Knowing and allowing the future head of the family to not only be a vampire, but gay as well? It's not going to happen." He finally looks away from the cutlery and looks in my direction. "But I'm trying to keep this from them as long as possible. I don't want to have to worry about it just yet. I want to enjoy the time, the life I get to spend with you. I want to pretend to be ignorant to their distaste for me... for us."

He finally rolls his eyes on to me, "You know what I mean?"

I smile to hide my uneasiness and go over to his chair. I pull him up and then down to sit on the floor with me. His hands are still in mine, I stroke his hands. "Then that's all I need, too." We lie down together, next to the fire that is finally starting to catch. We are on our backs, admiring each other.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" I ask.

"Nothing, and you never did deserve me." He replies, a coy smile on his lips.

I nudge him playfully. "Fine then, be that way."

"You know I will be."

I grin to myself. I roll over and situate myself on all fours just above him. "I love being here."

"Seriously? Here?"

"Yes," I lean down to give him a short kiss. "I get to re-do our first night together all over again. Makes me feel young and stupid."

Baz is trying not to roll his eyes, "Don't worry, you're still both young and stupid."

I bend my neck down to kiss him and he moves up a bit to meet me, but I don't allow our lips to completely connect. He moves closer and I pull back, teasing him. I brush our lips together and then rub our noses. He blushes deeply and says "That's not fair."

"It's completely fair after a comment like that, Baz."

Looking at his handsome face, I can't stand it any longer. I need him so badly in this moment, this day with the emotions, the stress of hiding. I gently bring my body down to meet his. I feel him move to meet me. He spreads his legs a bit, I use my right leg to move his legs apart further. I can feel his body responding to my movements. He needs this as badly as I do. I clumsily unbutton his shirt with one hand and feel his skin. Our kiss deepens as he slides his one hand around my neck and the other up the back of shirt. I move my way down from his lips to his neck. He tugs at my shirt and I pull up long enough for him to remove it.

Breathless, he asks, "Should we move to the bed?"

I shake my head with a smirk, "I like it down here."

"On the floor?"

"Like I said," I start kissing him on the neck again, "it's like our first night together, just a bit more naughty."

Baz doesn't have a response, he just moans instead.

_+_+_+_Baz

Simon and I did eventually move to the bed, after we were exhausted and full from each other. We slept through the night wrapped up in each others arms. I roll over, away from Simon and swing my legs over the bed. I think about last night. It's been a while since we've had a night so intense but I smile. There's just something about our relationship being taboo that turns us on, especially being in this house. I will do anything to make sure that I get to have more nights like that with Simon.

I don't care what it's going to cost me, I will stay with Simon for as long as our lives will allow.

Even though he was being sweet something about his attitude last night scares me. His eyes when I came back from my hunt, he was worrying about something. Also, we've already talked about telling my family, he knows that I won't tell them yet (if I can avoid it.) I worry at my lip thinking about why he would bring it up again. I'm probably reading into this too much, he's just thinking about it because we are here, and this is real.

At least, I hope that's it.

I stand up and pull on some pajama bottoms. The curtains are open, so I go over to close them. The snow outside is lovely, but the brightness of the sun glimmering off of it is too much for me to bear. I close the heavy curtains and instantly feel better.

Simon is moving on the bed, probably completely entwined in the covers.

"Baz?" He's still mostly asleep but he's searching for me on the large bed.

"I'm here."

He sits up and blinks slowly, trying to get the sleep from his eyes. He runs his hands through his hair.

"What time is it?"

I check my mobile, "Its 8:45."

He slumps back onto the bed with a groan. "That means we actually have to get up and do stuff right?"

I smile to myself. He's always so adorable in the mornings. "Yes. Father Christmas has come, and we are going to be late for our time with the family."

I notice him flinch a bit, but after a second he groans again and rolls over. I take light steps over to the bed where he is trying to hide from the world. With one knee on the mattress, I push his hair back from his face. He has his eyes closed, but not in a relaxed way.

"Simon, are you - "

There's a knock at the door and it starts to open, but then suddenly closes very quickly. (Why do I always forget to lock the door?)

Another knock, "Baz. Mother asked me to make sure that you and Mr. Snow are awake and will joining us."

Simon continues to lay in bed as I get up and put on a dressing gown. I open the door to see Mordelia looking bashful. Honestly, since becoming a teenager, she sure has forgotten how to cover her feelings.

"Happy Christmas, Mordelia," I start, "Yes, Mr. Snow and I will be down in just a few moments."

She rolls her eyes at me, "Fiine," and leaves.

All right, then. Today should be interesting.

I close the door and turn back towards the bed. Simon is now sitting on the edge of the bed, head hanging down.

"Are you okay, Simon?"

I puffs out a long breath, "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that... Well... It's okay, we'll talk later."

I hurry to where he is sitting and I stand in front of him, "What is it?" I demand.

He looks up at me with a smirk gracing his features. "I'll tell you later. Don't worry," I would have believed him too, if I hadn't noticed that his smile didn't reach his eyes. His eyes are saying 'help me.'

"No, Snow, you are going to tell me now."

He stands, moving me out of his way. He goes over to the couch and grabs his trousers. "Really, it's nothing important. I was going to mention it last night, but we were too busy." He winks. He puts his trousers on and heads to the wardrobe to grab a shirt. He grabs a deep green shirt that looks amazing on him.

"Dear God, Snow, if you are holding information from me..." I growl.

He smiles, he's too far away for me to see the emotion in his eyes, "Don't worry so much." He tucks his shirt in. "Come on, Baz, we're going to be late, and I'm starving."

Christmas morning is the only holiday meal that we do not have in the dining room. Toast, cakes, and sandwiches are placed neatly on one of the tables so that we can eat and watch the children open presents.

"Happy Christmas," I call when we reach the living room. "Happy Christmas," Simon says from behind me. His words aren't as cheerful or loud as usual. I make a mental note of that for our conversation later.

"Happy Christmas, Baz, Mr. Snow!" My stepmother says happily. My siblings all ring the same, and Father says it clearly and politely. I wonder if he's ever going to not have this polite hostility towards Simon.

Simon and I grab some food and each settle in a separate chair. My stepmother gives the go ahead and the children start passing around the gifts. They aren't rambunctious but they are excited. They carefully hand out the presents to everyone and then carefully (but not too carefully) rip the wrapping paper off the boxes. Mother, Father, Simon and I all get at least one gift from Father Christmas, just to keep up appearances for the young ones. Simon receives a deep red cashmere scarf. The color goes nicely with his golden curls. My present is a leather bound journal, which I appreciate. Journals are always good for me.

My stepmother asks us if we slept well. I tell her that we slept great, that it's nice to be back home, even for a couple of nights. (Of course I don't tell that her that I had a magnificent night of sex and sleeping next to my fiance.)

Once the children have finished opening all of their presents, and we've stuffed ourselves full of breakfast and coffee, it's off to play with the new toys for the children, and anything else for the adults for the afternoon. The children are off immediately, so my father, stepmother, Simon and I have a chance to fully catch up on everything. We talk about our schools, London, and other little things about classmates from Watford. Simon has become uncomfortable, but it trying his best to hide it. Father hasn't said a word since London came up. Father excuses himself at one point, and my stepmum soon follows, to check on the children.

Simon is playing with the new scarf he got from Father Christmas. (He knows its from my parents, but plays along anyway.) (Duh.)

"Let's go for a walk," I suggest. Simon gets up without saying anything and for a second reaches for my hand, then pulls back quickly. He rapidly wraps the new scarf around his neck.

"This is the softest thing I've ever felt."

I chuckle at this. He is just too adorable. We head out of the room and grab our coats.

Once we're outside, and at the border line of the wood, I grab Simon's hand. We crunch through the snow and the frozen grass.

"So are you going to tell me now?"

We're safe inside the woods when he turns to me, "Oh Baz, I fucked up. I fucked up big time."

I drain, "What do you mean?" Anger and fear are fighting to be the dominate emotion for the moment. Instead, I remain externally calm.

"I accidentally told your father something."

I'm gripping both of his hands now, not squeezing or threatening, but there if needed. "I may have misheard you just now, Snow. Could you please elaborate?" Still calm.

"When you ran off to catch Mordelia, your father came into the library to speak with us." He pauses. I widen my eyes, daring him to stop there, using my expression to get a move on. "So, he asked me a few things about London, it was all polite. You know your father is very intimidating to me, he still thinks I ruined his chances…" He trails off.

"Simon, pauses are not allowed. Continue."

"Anyway, so he's asking about London and how much I like it there compared to all the other places I've lived. And I said 'yes, sir, it's wonderful there. Baz and I have a nice little place not far from his university.'"

I groan. Simon huffs.

"Then he just says, 'ah, so you and Basilton are living together? How nice.' And then he excuses himself to find you and I stood there ashamed of myself for a few minutes before I met you at the top of the stairs."

"Well. Shit." I drop one of his hands to use mine to rake my hand through my hair. It just makes my hair situation worse. I didn't have time this morning to make myself completely presentable. "Well, hopefully it won't be so bad. But we can always leave tonight if needed."

"Should we just leave now?" I realize that this is the first time Simon has suggested running away from a fight. For once, instead of standing his ground he is willing to back down, to put his stubbornness aside. For me.

The thought is warming, but I'm still fearful and a bit pissed off. "No, we won't make the situation worse by running."

He now drops my other hand then slides it around my waist as he takes a step closer to me. Now I'm nervous, being in the proximity of the house. I feel like they can see every movement we make. He just gives me a tight hug. Snow may sometimes be blind to everything around him, but he can read my emotions better than I can sometimes. I didn't know I needed this hug until I bend down and bury my face in his neck.

Simon stopped wearing his cross a long time ago. He doesn't want to wear a vampire repellant when his boyfriend is a vampire. He never knew how uncomfortable it made me, he just knew that I didn't like it. With my face in his neck and shoulder, I can hear his pulse thump and his blood flowing. It's intoxicating. There's no part of me that wants ever lose it and hurt him, he never worries, but sometimes I do. I bring my head away when it becomes unbearable and look at him. He's worried, and I'm emotionless. My mind is trying to sort through too many scenarios and I pick one to focus on.

I choose to focus on Simon. I roll my eyes at him and say, "Moron."

He gives me a lopsided grin, "Yeah, but I'm your moron."

We walk through the woods for a bit longer. Simon waits behind a tree while I take a rabbit that was unfortunate enough to cross our paths. I go further away from him to feed quickly. Might as well do it now and not have to worry about it later.

The sun is starting to go down by the time we go back to the house. Both of us are cold, so we grab some coffee from the kitchen and take it up to my room. We're mostly quiet, there isn't much to say at the moment. We decide that after dinner we will play football by the moonlight. Sounds romantic. (It won't be, Snow and I are still fiercely competitive.)

Snow and I shower (yes it gets a bit steamy, but nothing like last night) and get ready for dinner. Simon's curls are still damp when there's a knock at the door.

I go over and answer it, my stepmother is there. "Hi Basil, dinner will be ready soon," she says.

"Thank you, Mother. Mr. Snow and I will be down shortly."

She nods, and then opens her mouth to say something, then thinks better of it. She turns and leaves.

I have a bad feeling about this.

Once again, dinner is uneventful, barely any conversation. The children are now calmer and stone-faced like the rest of the Grimm family. The air is think with an uncomfortable, almost hostile, feeling.

I know that this is going to be a bad night when Father invites Simon and I to join him in his study for a drink after dessert is finished. My nerves are on fire and Simon is pale.

Without another word, Simon and I follow him up the stairs to his private study. I only come in here for lectures from him and other private conversations (mostly about how the Families were going to get their revenge on the Mage and the man standing next to me.)

Father pours all of us a drink. Simon takes his politely with a small "thank you, sir."

I take mine but immediately put it down on the table near me. (He knows I don't drink.) Father sits behind his desk and Simon and I sit in the chairs across from him.

"So, Basil, I hear from Mr. Snow that you two are sharing a flat."

Goddamnit.

"That is correct, Father." I say coldly. I usually know better than to challenge my father, but I am unable to control the tone of my voice. I clear my throat, steady myself, "Is there an issue?"

He glares at me, it's full of humiliation and fury. "Basilton," my full name, his tone means that this is not going to go in my favor. "There have been rumours flying about you two since you finished at Watford."

I cock an eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, I'm sure that whatever is being said is just slander from the other Families." I counter. It's been too long since Father and I have argued or had a conversation that wasn't just pleasantries. I know my father cares for me as his son, but he cares a lot more about me not dragging the Pitch and Grimm names through the mud.

"Is that so? Were you ever planning on telling your family that you had moved in with a Normal?" From his words and the way he is eyeing Simon, I can tell that he knows the truth.

He knows that we are engaged.

Simon's face flushes to a deep scarlet. He's always been uncomfortable being in the presence of magical families after losing his powers. He went from being the scorned "Chosen One" to a distasteful Normal. Again, it doesn't matter to me, he's still my Simon Snow.

"Sir," Simon starts. He looks up from his drink (that he's already mostly finished since we sat down.) Father is daring him to continue to speak, which he does anyway, not backing down. "I had no intent to cause Basil or your family discomfort. Basil was just helping me out in my time of need."

Father is livid, "And how is that, Mr. Snow?" He wants to accuse us of more here, but he would never be able to say the words first. That the rumours say otherwise. That they say that Simon and I are boyfriends (that we're fucking.)

"Sir, I'm sorry, but like I said, Baz was just helping me. My roommate moved to America last year and I was unable to afford a flat on my own." He is surprisingly cool and apologetic. He sounds like he's politely defending himself against a professor who is mad that he had the right answer when the teacher didn't know. "When I told Basil this, he allowed for me to stay at his place until I could get on my feet."

I wonder how much he's thought this through. My guess is that he's practised this, that he knew exactly what he was going to say the moment the question came up.

This is incredibly unlike Simon, and I can see the edges of my vision growing red. I can't believe that my behavior, not only that but my family's views, would cause him this much worry that he would have to have his excuses on hand, ready to be used at a moment's notice.

"Mr. Snow," Father continues dangerously, not raising his voice at all, "I have allowed you to stay in this house, be part of our celebrations, eat at our table. However, I am not going to have you lie to my face. There are rumours afloat that I am sure that I do not need to repeat here."

"No," I say pointedly, "I think it is necessary for you to tell us about these rumours. It is obvious that Mr. Snow and I don't have any idea what you are on about. Please, Father, enlighten us with what it is that the rumours are stating we have done."

Father takes a swallow of his drink. He's trying to remain calm, and his eyes are still emotionless, but the red around his neck is giving him away.

"Father, please," I'm slightly sarcastic, "it is important that you tell us what they are saying so that Mr. Snow and I can sit here and deny them and defend ourselves. We should be able to enjoy Christmas Day."

Father doesn't say anything. Simon finishes his drink and places it on the table next to mine. He then picks up the drink he knows I won't have and brings that to his lips.

Crowley, this is going badly.

A few moments of nothing go by. I pat my hands on my knees, "Well, Father, I must thank you for the lovely chat. I am going to see which of my siblings would like to play football. Mr. Snow, would you like to join?" I get up and walk towards the door.

He finishes his drink and gently puts the glass down. He is making a fearsome expression.

"You were not dismissed, Basil."

I stop my hand just short of the doorknob. "My apologies, Father. Was there something else we needed to discuss?" I lessen the sarcasm in my voice. I honestly do not want my father angry, but I'm doing everything in my power not to slam my fists through his desk and shout every truth he doesn't want to hear. My father is a gentleman, and usually does not intend to hurt anyone (physically) but he is just looking out for the Families. He feels that he is still responsible for the Pitch name.

He isn't though. I'm in charge. His name is Grimm, but mine is Pitch.

"Basil, the rumours are saying that you and Mr. Snow here are dating."

My stomach drops, Simon freezes in his place and my father is now standing. He did not say those words with malice, he almost saying it pleadingly. He wants me to deny them.

I turn to face him. His face is still stoney. I also want to deny them to him, but Simon is looking at the floor. He wants to bolt, and leave this house. The truth will ruin father's image, everything that he's put in place for me, for the Pitches, for the Grimms. I'm a disgrace to their names, but I know what I am.

And I know that I love Simon Snow. As much as it will disappoint my father, and how much Simon has tried to cover for me, for us, how much I did not want to be having this conversation, I'm done hiding. I'm finished with the lies and cover-ups for the first time in my life.

I've made up my mind. "Those aren't rumours, Father. That's the truth."

"Baz!" Simon yelps.

I meet my father's glazed eyes. He is disappointed. I have caused him this pain, and I almost feel sorry for him. He has tried to shelter me, keep me at the top of the Families, a leader for my birthright.

"And I'm not going to apologise, Father." I continue, "Simon and I will be getting married in the spring."

Father is still stunned but he keeps his composure.

"You may want to tear everything away from me, the Pitch name and fortune. You will want to disown me, throw me out, disgrace me in what you can. Not only is the heir to the Pitch name a vampire," father contains his grimace, "but he is also gay. I will spend the rest of my days with a Normal, formerly the one man chosen to end the World of Mages. But that doesn't worry me, Father. The Families can throw what ever they choose to, but I will not be changing my mind. Simon has proposed to me. He has admitted to you that we were living together and here we are. I have finally gotten to say aloud all of the secrets that I have bottled up for five years."

There is silence.

"Are we dismissed now, Father?"

He barely moves his head, and I take that as a confirmation.

I open the door and Simon strides to the entrance. Just as I am about to close the door I stand in the frame and say, "My apologies, Father. Truly. This is not how I wanted you to find out." I am sincere. He meets my eyes, the son that is now dead to him (in almost all manner of speaking – I am dead after all.) "I didn't want you to find out at all."

Simon and I do what we said we would. We gather the children and have a playful match of football. We tone down our competitiveness (don't want to hurt any of the younglings, after all.)

I haven't felt this light in years. Not since before I met Simon, have I felt this well and innocent.

Simon looks like he's going to throw up.

He's doing his best to hide it, but Mordelia keeps shooting him disgusted looks (not sure if that because of the crush or how green he looks.) The other three are just happy to be playing outside in the snow.

Once we've all tired out, we quietly go into the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. I do not see Father or my stepmother this entire time. The children head up to their rooms for bathes and one more round of playing with their new toys before going to bed. Only Mordelia is wary of us. When the children have left, she stays behind. Simon and I are sitting at the counter island in the middle of the kitchen, finishing our now lukewarm drinks.

"What's gotten into you?" She asks, as if I should even have the nerve to show myself.

I give her a closed mouth smile, "What do you mean, Mordelia?"

"Simon hasn't said a word, and you look happy. This is terrible. What have you done?"

My blond haired fiance brings his head up from his hands, "You called me Simon."

She blushes ferociously. "No I didn't!"

He smiles widely, "Thank you, Mordelia."

She's going to die soon if any more blood rises to her cheeks. She's about to storm out of the kitchen so I call to her, "We told Father."

She stops, and turns, "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" her eyes are wide, and all of that blood that was there two seconds ago is now gone.

I shrug, "You were right. He wanted to know."

She bites her cheek, but doesn't know what to say. She knows what this could mean. There are strict rules when being a part of the Old Families and being gay is not allowed. "You'll still be my sister to me, Mordelia. No matter what happens."

She stomps her foot down, still not knowing what to say. "Good night, Mordelia. I expect I'll see you in the morning."

She flicks her eyes from me to Simon and back.

"Good night." She finally says and leaves.

I turn to Simon. He still looks ill, but better after someone in this household called him Simon. (Well, someone should.)

I lean in and give him a quick kiss on the mouth.

"I need a cigarette," I say with a sigh.

Simon gives me an aghast, slightly sarcastic look. "Weren't you supposed to quit? You said you quit!"

I kiss him again, "Well, I lied, and tonight I'm done with the lies." I wink and stand up, getting the pack out of my pocket and using the door behind us to get outside. I go over to the old barn (now garage) and light a fag. Simon comes up next to me a moment later.

"I still can't fucking believe you told him."

I take a drag and blow the smoke out slowly. I try to turn my head so that the smoke doesn't go towards Simon, but the wind decided to change that. "Yeah, me either. But you know what?" I look him straight in the eye. His eyes may not be any special shade of blue, but my goodness, are they beautiful. Always showing what he's feeling before he can even process it. "I feel amazing. Now I have realized that I don't care. I'm the only living male Pitch. It doesn't matter. So what if I get disowned? It'll now fall on Fiona to get the name carried on and create a new Pitch heir." I laugh aloud at that idea. Fiona? Settling down? Ridiculous.

Simon laughs as well. He's terrified of Fiona, but he knows that she would never settle down.

After a few moments of silence, he says, "We're getting married."

I blow out some smoke, "Yeah. Yes, we are."

"I still can't fucking believe you told him."

We decided to stay the night here. It would have been easier if we had just left in the middle of the night, but we were exhausted and just wanted to sleep.

Except I didn't sleep.

Simon fell into a fitful sleep, nightmares still plaguing him. He's curled up into a ball. The stress of today must have triggered them and I hate that this has befallen him. I lie awake and go between crying and laughing.

I've ruined everything.

But the love of my life is next to me, and I don't feel like we need to stay hidden any longer.

When I can no longer take just staying in bed, I grab my new journal and begin to write.

I write down today's events. I list them carefully, with all the tones and expressions that went with each phrase. I want to be able to come back to this and relive the day that I took it all away.

For the first time in 12 years, I feel the weight lift off of me.

In the morning, I'm still exhausted but I feel better.

And then suddenly, I feel much, much worse.

We now have to face my family. The aftermath is not going to be pretty.

I wake Simon and he's also feeling the dread. He very slowly gets up and dresses very nicely. He's afraid of giving the wrong impression by not wearing a suit. I also dress up, just so that we look professional together.

We don't hold hands when we go downstairs. We decided it was better not to add insult to injury. It's enough for them to just know right now.

Father and Mother are having a low conversation in the kitchen when we enter.

"Good morning, Father. Good morning, Mother."

"Good morning," Mother says politely.

I get two mugs from the cupboard and fill them with coffee. I hand one to Simon. We sit down the counter island with them.

Mother watches us intently, but Father doesn't look at us at all.

"Is there something we should discuss?" I ask cautiously.

There's a moment of silence before Father says, "There's nothing to discuss." His voice is even.

Simon starts, "Sir - "

Father raises his hand to silence him.

"I do not want to hear from you for a little while, Mr. Snow." He's still calm, still cool. He's being non-threatening, "This is going to take some time to sort out, Basilton." He looks in me in the eye. "But disowning you from the Pitch name is not an option."

A wave of relief washing over me.

"Father, I have one thing to request."

"In these sort of situations, requests are usually incredibly dangerous and can unravel everything." This time, he is being threatening,

I continue anyway, "I would like for you to not completely blame Simon in this situation. I cannot change your distaste from the events of the time of the Mage, but Simon couldn't control who he is or what his destiny was. I just ask that you try to look towards forgiving him. Even if it's in the smallest way."

I get blank stares from both of them. Simon has again chosen to not look anywhere but down during this exchange.

"That is my only request."

We all take a silent moment to think things over. Simon has become sick of staring at the counter and is instead looking at anything except the Grimms across from us.

There's nothing left to be said for the moment, so Simon and I take our leave. When we go upstairs, Mordelia is leaving her room and sees us heading towards mine to gather our bags.

"Baz," she greets. I see that she's recovered her Grimm face. (Get it? Grimm, grim, no expression? Oh whatever.)

"Good morning, Mordelia. Simon and I are heading back to London now."

She steps closer to me. "Are you ever coming back here?" her voice is very quiet.

"Yes, I do believe that we will be back soon enough. Maybe I'll even see you at Watford."

"Really?" She's wary, she doesn't believe me.

"Sure. Sometimes Simon goes there to discuss thing with Headmaster Bunce, and I will tag along once in a while. But don't worry, it seems as if I'm still allowed to be part of the family."

Mordelia then hugs me and we say our goodbyes.

It's a few hours drive to get back to London. We are hoping to there soon so that we can continue our lives away from the mansion.

Once we are in the car and off the long driveway, Simon finally speaks up.

"Baz?"

"Yes?"

He pauses for a moment.

"I'm starving. Could we go get some food?"

"Well, that was the insightful comment I was looking for."

He puts his hand over mine on the gear shift. "Good, I figured it was about time I say something smart."

We continue to drive for a little while longer.

"Goddamnit, I've just remembered," I say, "I forgot to grab that damn book from the library."

Simon laughs harder than I expect him to and soon enough I'm joining him.

Jeez, do I love this man. He is definitely my Chosen One.

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a review if you feel like it. :)

This is my first Carry On Fic, and it has been years since I've posted on here, but I'm very excited to be back!

Thank you!

xo Riot