Simon

Baz must have heard me growling in frustration, because when I emerge from the bathroom, he asks, "What's the matter with you?"

"It has to be that gremlin. That's the third toothbrush I've lost this week!" I point toward the bath, but Baz only shrugs.

"Of all the creatures you could have pissed off, a gremlin's probably the least trouble. A bother to be sure, but it won't be killing you any time soon. Here," He digs a box out from under his bed and pulls out a sealed toothbrush before holding it out towards me.

I hesitate before taking it. He's been a right prick to me all week after I'd suggested us being friends. I can't help but think this must be some sort of trick. "Haven't put a spell on it, have you?" I ask, hesitating with one hand outstretched.

He rolls his eyes. "I can smell your breath from here."

I snatch it out of his hand while glaring at him. I can feel my cheeks heating and that makes me angrier than the comment. Still, when I return to the bathroom I do an extra good job of brushing my teeth. Not to please him, of course. Just because I don't want to be a rotten smelling chap.

I emerge from the bathroom to scan his lounging figure. He's so prim and proper. He doesn't belong in a dorm room, classing up a lumpy mattress. He belongs in a mansion on a velvet chaise.

How he can possibly read when there is a beast on the loose wreaking havoc and class in a few minutes, I'll never know. "What can we do about it? You saw it before."

He reaches for his wand without looking up from his book and casts, "You're uninvited."

I hear the door open and close, but I don't catch sight of the thing. Baz must have only spotted it in the woods because he's a bloody vampire. "Show off," I mutter.

He levels me with a stare over the top of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. "Would you like me to let it stay? It's messing about with your shit, not mine."

I glance around the room and quickly deduce that wasn't completely true. I walk over to the door and I nudge one of his sneakers with the toe of my shoe. "Oh yeah? Then why is one of your shoes missing its laces?"

He frowns at me before inserting a bookmark and setting his book down on the bed. He's by my side in an instant, crouching down beside me. "Crowley, Snow!" He groans, picking up his shoe.

I have an old pair in the closet, so I open the door and start unlacing one. I throw the lace over to him. He stares at it for a moment, before raising an eyebrow at me. "It's red."

I raise an eyebrow in return. "So?"

"So, the other is white. I'll look like a naff plonker in that!"

Leave it to Baz, to be worried about something so insignificant. "You're right." I take it back and toss it and the shoe back into the closet. "Better that you go stumbling about without one. And what with your bad leg, you'll probably fall down the stairs."

"That miscreant probably thought this was your shoe, and there's nothing wrong with my leg!" He yells back.

"No, certainly not! You limp for the fun of it!"

He stands angrily, "I don't limp." He growls, his gray eyes flashing.

I have half a mind to take a step forward and argue, but we both know he limps. Doesn't matter if he ever admits to it. Besides, I have class to get to.

I growl in exasperation and storm out the door. I jog down the steps, knowing I'll only get a brief reprieve from him. We have potions class together first thing and the bastard sits right behind me.

Baz

I stare at Simon's bronze curls, longingly. I want to wrap my pencil around them and pull him closer. I wanted to brush them with my lips again and breath in his scent. He's the sun radiating heat and light and I want to lean into him more than anything. It takes every ounce of control in my body, to keep from touching him. I don't have any attention to spare for class, but it hardly matters. I've already read and memorized the chapter. Class time is best spent admiring Snow.

I have had to be an exceptional tosser this past week, to keep him from finding me out. Everything he does lately seems seductive. Every time his eyes flash with anger I want to fan the flames. I keep hoping he'll come over and massage me again, but he hasn't. Probably won't. Even if he did, I know it doesn't mean anything to him. He still hates me. Not that I wouldn't love a hate massage. I wouldn't object to it by any means.

The lights flicker a few times during class. I spare a couple of glances up at the pair of golden chandeliers above our heads. I've heard of gremlins messing with electronics, but I've never seen it done before. Still, it's as good an excuse as any.

I lean forward, letting my lips lightly brush Simon's ear when I whisper. "You've created a formidable enemy, Snow. First the toothbrush, now a light show. Whatever will we do?"

He snaps his head away from me and glares back. I can feel myself grinning at the attention against my will. "I thought you spelled it away." He bites back.

Crowley, he's so easily provoked. I would say it's not even fun, but staring into those crystal blue eyes is always a treat. "I spelled it out of our room." I correct him. "I don't have the authority to spell it out of school."

His nostrils flare.

"You can ask the mage if you'd like. I know you two are like this." I entwine my first two fingers, then let one slip away so only the middle finger remains.

When he turns back in a huff, I have to bite my finger to keep from laughing out loud.

His head shoots back around and I quickly control my mirth. "Fantastic, now my pencil's gone. I hope you're happy!"

I'd heard it hit the floor a minute ago so I nod towards it. "That's just you being clumsy as always, Snow."

He glances down then leans over to pick it up with a grunt. Magic is rolling off of him in green smokey billowing clouds, so I'd better not rile him further. That boy has less control than a dropped bomb.

Simon

I wake up shivering under my blanket. I'm rarely cold and never when I'm sleeping. I get up and close the window, figuring that it must be cold outside, but the numbers on the alarm clock are dark and I realize we've lost power. No wonder it's so cold in here. It's partially my fault for always wanting the window open. If we'd left it shut, as Baz wanted, Mummer's house would have held the heat better.

I settle back into bed, but I can't get warm. There aren't enough blankets. I can hear Baz's teeth chattering across the room, which doesn't help matters any.

It suddenly occurs to me that this could be the work of that infernal gremlin. He wouldn't need to get into our room to wreck the electricity.

Either way, it's my fault. I'm starting to feel like everything is my fault and I don't know if I can fix it all.

Baz

I feel cold often enough that I've gotten used to it. I don't think my inner thermostat works right anymore, but tonight is the worst. My leg is throbbing and my teeth won't stop chattering. I don't remember it ever being this bad. I start to wonder if I'm finally turning all the way. If the evil inside of me will fully take over and my heart will shrivel and there won't be anything left of me at all.

But Simon closes the window and I realize it's simply the temperature. If Simon's cold enough to do that, it must be freezing outside.

"Baz?" His voice echoes across the room, but I don't answer. There's no point. I'm obviously here and he'll say whatever it is he has to say. Likely he'll accuse me of making it so cold.

"Baz, we've lost heat. I'm sorry." His voice is closer this time and I feel him throw another blanket over me. It has to be his, I already have the spares on my bed.

"Budge up." He says while pressing against my back. I move over, onto a chilled bit of sheet while he crawls under the covers next to me. My heart is going to beat its way out of my chest.

His fingers are suddenly warming my cheek and I force myself to stay perfectly still so as not to scare him away. "Crowley, you're cold." He mutters.

I close my eyes as he places his hand on my arm and briskly rubs it, burning into my skin with his warmth. I clench my jaw to keep from making a sound.

His body presses up against mine, searing me with warmth, and I squeeze my eyes shut as well. His hand massages down my leg and I lose control over a certain part of my body. Crowley, his hand is so fucking hot.

"Are you alright?" His warm breath caresses my neck.

I can't respond. Alright is not the word for it. I'm burning to death in a cauldron of bloody passion. I always assumed I'd die by fire, but not like this. I'd die a thousand deaths like this.

My chest constricts. I don't know why he cares. Probably feels responsible for the cold, like he feels responsible for everything else. I know he thinks that the world of magic rests on his shoulders. Crowley, I can't imagine being under that sort of pressure all the time. No wonder his shoulders were so tense.

"Baz?" His voice burns a permanent hole through my heart. The edges don't bleed they're cauterized immediately. His shape will forever be embedded inside of me.

I swallow loudly.

"I'm sorry, this is all my fault. It's either the window or that gremlin, and I am sorry."

It's hard to concentrate on anything he's saying when his hand is working it's way up and down my leg. I imagine turning over and pulling his lips to mine. I'd whisper, I love you, against them. Once, twice, a hundred times, because those words won't stop looping in my mind and if I ever let them go, they'll likely be stuck on repeat.

I'd tell him that it's not his fault. Not the gremlin, who he stopped from stealing my wand. Not the way the world is, not the way his magic is. He can't help any of it.

His hand comes to a rest against my thigh. "Thank you. I can't believe you haven't killed me already."

I honestly don't know what he's thanking me for. I haven't said or done anything.

I can't stop myself from rolling over then. I can't keep from tracing his warm face with my hand. His freckles are a temptation on their own, but his gorgeous blue eyes are my undoing. "I told you, I'll never kill you. Never, Snow. I'd sooner die."

I'm staring into his eyes now, but his hand has fallen away. "Why?" He whispers searching my eyes.

I quickly remove my hand. I've afforded myself enough luxury. I'm not delusional enough to convince myself I'm helping him in return. I can't warm him. I'm always colder.

I clench my jaw. So many words are fighting to make their way out of me and that I can't respond at all. I can't tell him that I'm already half dead, or that he's better than me in every way. I certainly can't tell him that I'd never want to live without him.

He grips my upper arm and I envy the way he can abandon all sense of propriety to touch me. I couldn't have crawled into his bed, not without dying of embarrassment. "I couldn't kill you either. Even if I should. I know you too well." He lets me go, then turns onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

"I'd think that would make it easier," I whisper. "You know I deserve it." As much as I've tried to hide it, I'm pretty sure Simon knows what I am.

He turns his head to frown over at me. "You don't deserve death!" He exclaims.

I admire that way his curls fan out on the pillow for a moment. "Thank you." I finally whisper, closing my eyes. A lot of people would say any vampire deserves death. Not Snow. Maybe the daft wanker still doesn't know.

His warm hand cups my cheek and I take a shaky breath. He takes it away to pull the covers half over our heads. I don't feel cold anymore though. I've stopped shivering.

"I was worried about you, you know?" He whispers. "Please don't leave like that again. If you were plotting-" He lets his voice trail off.

Part of me wants to tell him the truth, but I can't take the humiliation. He wouldn't need a wand to defeat a few fucking numpties. He'd go off. No one could kidnap him.

I'm weak and pathetic and while I'd be ashamed to tell anyone, I'd be absolutely mortified to tell him. "I wasn't plotting against you." I finally manage. "It's not all about you, you conceited git." I roll away from him.

He was worried about me? That bit didn't register at first. I know he'd wanted to keep tabs on me, but him being worried about my safety and well being doesn't seem likely. Then again, he did just cover me with his blanket and rub feeling back into my leg. No, it's all guilt. That's all it is and I'll put an end to that.

"None of this is your fault, Snow. Not the gremlin, not how your magic works, and not the cold. You don't have to come over here and make things better. You're not responsible for me." I bite out the last bit. I don't need his pity or protection.

I hear him turn his back to me, but he doesn't leave. A moment later he's sound asleep. His breathing is even more appealing when he's right beside me. I close my eyes, then scoot back until our backs are touching. I enjoy the feel of his warmth for a good hour before I fall asleep.

In the morning, when he's gone, I find myself wishing I hadn't fallen asleep at all. That I had enjoyed his breathing and warmth and closeness all night instead.