This fic takes place assuming that Simon went back to Watford for the spring term. Enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Carry On or any of its characters. I only own my own ideas.

SIMON

Baz is playing the violin when I come in.

"Keep playing," I say with a wave of my hand. Baz nods his head in acknowledgement, his bow never pausing.

Good. It's not that I want to hide what I'm doing from Baz, but I'm not entirely sure he'll like it.

I sit at my desk and pull out a sheet of paper. I've been putting this off for a few weeks, uncertain whether or not it was a good idea, but I've finally made up my mind. Grabbing my pen, I scrawl a quick letter.

Dear Dr. Wellbelove,

Thank you for lending me this. I appreciate it, but as I don't feel I need it anymore, I am returning it.

Sincerely,

Simon

I write Agatha's address on an envelope (I had to borrow one from Penny, I've never sent anyone a letter before.) I sneak a quick glance at Baz, but he's completely engaged in the violin. I go over my wardrobe and pull a box off the top shelf. I put my anti-vampire cross in here when I got back to Watford for the spring term. It seemed like the least likely place in the room for Baz to be, and I didn't want it to bother him (I certainly didn't want it under my bed-I didn't want to do anything to deter him). I slip the cross into the envelope and lick it shut. I don't have a stamp (I forgot to ask Penny), so I figure I'll just buy one at the post office.

Baz is still playing so I turn around to watch him. I love watching Baz play the violin. He looks so focused and elegant when he plays. I used to hate it. I thought he looked like a tosser and everything he played was depressing. It's funny how being in love can change your perspective on things.

Baz finishes his piece and gives me a smile.

"Why is everything you play depressing?" I ask. Not everything changes when you fall in love.

"What was depressing about that piece?" he asks. I roll my eyes.

"What wasn't depressing about that piece?" Baz smirks.

Tosser.

"I'm heading into town to mail a letter," I say. "Wanna come with? We can get dinner too."

"Sure why not." Baz comes over to me and gives me a kiss. He frowns.

"Snow, are you wearing your cross?" My blood runs cold.

"No," I reply. Honestly. Baz narrows his eyes.

"Are you sure?" I reach up and pull my shirt and jumper away from my neck so he can see that nothing is there. Baz is still frowning, and I'm feeling pretty nervous. I don't want to be dishonest with him, but I really don't think he'd want me to return the cross. Maybe asking him to come with was a bad idea.

"Come on Snow," Baz says. "Let's go."

BAZ

I don't think Simon's lying to me. He's not wearing his cross, at least, not around his neck. But he has it on him. He thinks I know and it's bugging the crap out of him. He looks entirely too nervous. (It's bugging the crap out of me. Why is he carrying his cross? And why is he lying about it?)

We reach the drawbridge and he takes my hand and I can feel the cross buzzing in my jaw. It's worse when we're touching. I want to say something, but I can't. There's a group of first years having a picnic on the lawn and a couple taking a walk around the moat. I need more privacy.

"What's wrong?" Simon asks. I scowl.

"I'll tell you later," I reply. And now I know he knows I know, because he instantly gets more nervous.

We're about halfway to town before I feel confident that no one else is around to hear our conversation.

"Are you wearing your cross Snow?" I ask, trying to sound more angry than panicked (I'm both). Snow gulps.

"No," he replies, but he looks nervous as fuck.

"Don't lie to me!" I say, raising my voice and dropping his hand. Simon turns towards me, but doesn't meet my eyes.

"I'm not lying. I'm really not wearing it. But I do have it on me."

"Why?" I growl. Simon reaches into his pocket and pulls out a letter. It's obvious to me that the cross is in there. I can feel it.

"I'm returning it to Dr. Wellbelove," he says. "I don't need it anymore."

"The hell you don't!" I shout, anger finally triumphing. "What are you thinking? Have you forgotten that I'm a vampire?"

"No, of course not."

"Then what possessed you to think that giving up your cross is a good idea?"

"Because I don't need it anymore Baz!" Simon yells, finally looking at me properly. "Because I trust you. You're not going to hurt me." He says it with such sincerity and conviction that I'm momentarily speechless. His eyes are boring into me. I can't take it. I look away and clench my fists.

"I might," I say.

"You won't."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do." Simon takes my hand, forcing my fingers apart. "You are never going to hurt me Baz. I trust you. And if I have that cross around, then I feel like I don't, like some small part of me still thinks you might turn on me. And I hate it. I want it gone."

SIMON

Baz gives me a look that's so anguished it's terrifying. It reminds me of the way he looked the first time I kissed him, when he was trying to kill himself. Baz looks away from me, but he doesn't relinquish my hand.

"You may trust me Simon," he says. "But I don't trust myself. I'm not going to bite you. Not intentionally. But I'm not human and if I go too long without blood or something happens to me, I may not be in my right mind. If that happens and I hurt you, I'll never forgive myself."

Baz looks like he's in so much pain that my heart breaks. I reach up to his face and gently stroke his cheek, turning him to face me.

"Baz, that is not going to happen. I won't let it. Even if it does, I'll fend you off somehow, I'll help you get through it. I won't let you hurt me because I know it'll be worse for you than it is for me. Besides," I add, giving him a sly grin, "if we're in such an extreme situation, I doubt the cross will be much of a deterrent."

"Still," Baz says, "I'd feel more comfortable knowing that you own it. That you can put it on if you have to."

"No one else wears one," I say, trying to reason with him. "Your family doesn't wear one, your friends don't wear one, why are you so insistent on me having one?" Baz looks me right in the eye and squares his shoulders.

"Because you're the one it would hurt the most to lose. And you're the one I want to eat the most." I'm shocked stupid by that, so I don't say anything in response. The silence around us is deafening.

Baz sighs and strokes my fingers.

"I'm not going to bite you," he repeats, but he looks calmer now. "But I can. And I want to. At least, the vampire part of me wants to. Having the cross around reminds me of that. It reminds me of what I'm capable of. I don't want you to wear it all the time. But I want you to be able to, if you need to. Keep it for me Simon. Please."

I don't think Baz has ever begged before. Like, ever. I don't think I've even heard him say the word please in all the years I've known him. And it's not because he lacks manners (he has impeccable manners). Baz never asks anyone for anything. He's the most independent person I know. If he needs me to keep the cross around for his own peace of mind, then maybe it's selfish of me to give it up. But I won't go down without a fight.

"I'm never putting it back on Baz. Never. Unless we need to walk into another vampire bar." Baz doesn't smile, but I can feel him relaxing somewhat. I can tell that my faith in him is getting through to him.

"I appreciate that Simon, I really do, but you just can't give it up. Not yet." Baz sighs and rakes his hand through his hair. "Look, just give me some time. Let me think about it, get used to the idea. I'm not ready for you to give it up, but I'm grateful that you are. It means a lot to me." He gives me a weak smile.

"I guess you're stronger than I am," he says. I shake my head.

"Nope, just braver." Baz laughs out loud. I snake my arm around his waist and pull him in close so I can kiss him properly.

"So," I say when we finally break apart. "Do you still want to go into town? Or do you want to…" I trail off suggestively and nod in the direction of the woods. Baz smirks and there's a fiery glint in his eye. He kisses me on the cheek.

"No, let's go get some dinner," he says. "You still have that cross with you. But don't think you're getting away tonight." I grin.

"That's my line."