Simon

Fiona was glaring holes into the back of my head the whole way inside. Baz's step mum invited Penny and me to go to the main living area while she went and made tea. Seeing someone so polite and civil amongst Baz's cold and blunt family always feels like it should seem out of place, but it doesn't. She belongs here; she is his family.

So is Fiona, but she is far less accommodating.

She storms into the room after a few minutes, Daphne on her heels. She plants herself on the couch, eyes challenging as Daphne sets the tea down.

"Well?" she says, expectancy.

I frown, "well, what?"

She looks at me like stupid, "well, start explaining. You better bloody include how you know where the living room is, let alone how to get into it."

Daphne sits down beside her, "Fiona, Simon has been here before."

"He, what?"

Daphne offers the platter to Penny and I, "over the holidays, Simon stayed here to work on a school project with Basil."

I take one of the cups, offering it to Penny. I take mine too, to be polite, but I don't really feel like it.

Fiona glowers, "another one of the Mage's great plans?"

I bristle, "Baz invited me to stay."

She raises an eyebrow, turning to Daphne, "did he now?"

Daphne taps her cup, looking conflicted. "Well, not exactly. At least, he never mentioned he was expecting a friend…".

Yeah, because he knew his family would assume it was a bloody murder plot. "He asked me at school, before the holidays."

Fiona leans forward, "Snow, I don't know what you've said to get him so infatuated, but if you've been coddling up to him to try and spy for the Mage-"

"I'm not! The Mage thinks that's what Baz is doing to me!"

Fiona

Well that's interesting. He's got a wound about the Mage. And poking it is making him squirm.

He's sensitive about something else too. Basil. He's being defensive, insistent. Like he wants to convince me that they aren't enemies.

Baz invited me to stay.

I know Basil. I've known him since he was a tod. I've seen him lie, pretend. Hide. He's been doing it all his life. Back in the car… he wasn't pretending.

But I don't know Snow.

I'm going to make him squirm.

I narrow my eyes, "perhaps the Mage is right, Basil's smart. I don't know why else he would decide to befriend the Mage's dog."

Daphne shifts beside me, "Fiona, this isn't necessary…"

Snow's hands tighten around his tea, "I'm not his dog." He says it through gritted teeth, and his nerdy looking friend looks pretty close to cursing me.

I lean forward, "no? why are your hackles raised than, dog? If the Mage threw a ball would you fetch it?"

"Fiona!"

Simon

Baz is in the doorway, and he looks infuriated. His eyes are red, and he looks like he's barely holding it together. My eye's fall to Malcolm, standing behind him like a shadow. I scrutinise the two …Surely not. He wouldn't-

No, Malcolm's been crying as well.

Maybe Baz told him?

But which bit?

Daphne must see it too, because she stands, going to her husband. She touches his cheek lightly, having to tilt her head up to see his face. "Malcolm?"

He wraps an arm around her waist, but he looks to Baz. "Basilton," he says, "take your friends to the guest rooms."

Penny gets up immediately, pulling me with her, and I realise how tense the air has become. My magic is filling it, making it hot. Fuck, I can't keep doing this.

"You alright?" Penny whispers as we vacate the room, Baz in the lead. His shoulders are squared, and he's radiating his 'pissed off' energy. I don't think he'll turn around until were up the stairs or so. Not while they're all down there.

"Fine," I whisper back, a little too sharp. "I'm fine."

She doesn't push it, just nods as we ascend the stairs. Baz doesn't turn, he takes us down a hallway that I vaguely remember. I hadn't exactly stayed in my guest room. It's kind of weird how gothic his house is; I still can't tell if the lights are electric or gas. I'd guess electric, or hope it. Gas can lead to fire. Baz and fire is very bad. Big circle with a cross through it bad.

Baz comes to an abrupt stop, and still doesn't turn. He gestures purposefully at the doors on the right-hand side, "these rooms are the nicest. Feel free to make use of them."

I touch his shoulder lightly, "Baz…"

He ducks his head, still not turning. He's vibrating, angry. And sad too I think. I'm glad he's not like me, that his magic doesn't just go bang when it's all too much.

Penny steps forward, "Basil, if you need space…"

He shakes his head, "no, I just- I'm so sorry. My family-" He doesn't seem to know how to finish the sentence.

"Your stepmother was quite lovely," Penny says, and there's no lie to it.

"My aunt-" he turns around, to me. "she cannot fucking talk to you like that…"

He looks so angry, embarrassed even. I shrug, "I wasn't exactly expecting a carpet to be rolled out for me." I'm pissed too, hell, I'd almost shattered a t-cup. But I don't want Baz to start fighting with his family.

He nods, "but she didn't have too…"

I catch his eye, "it's okay, Baz. Really- Well, it's not. But we're fine, yeah? Were out."

He breathes, nodding his head. "Yeah."

After a moment he relaxes his posture, like's he's mentally shaking himself off. "I assume none of us are going to be doing much sleeping," he says, turning to Penny, "we have a rather large library with a lot of books we're not supposed to have, want to see?"

She looks at him like's he's just offered her the Tardis.

I smile, the last time I'd been there I'd imagined such a reaction from her. I touch her arm lightly, "he um, I might just go to bed. Can I borrow your phone? I want to call Agatha's parents."

She hesitates, but passes the phone to me anyway "…be careful, we don't want to clue the Mage in. Tell them to pretend they are bringing her out of school for a holiday, or something that can be bluffed easily."

I nod, "maybe a horse show or something. She always goes to those, some three-day thing."

"Eventing," Baz says.

"Yeah," I say, "that thing."

He rolls his eyes, "you dated her for how long?"

I push his shoulder playfully, "lay off, go read your forbidden books."

He gives me a small smile before offering his arm to Penny, "shall we?"

She hooks her arm in his, "we shall."

Malcolm

Fiona's got her head in her hands, breathing deeply. Her shoulders have risen up to her ears in her hunched form. Daphne has gone still, one hand folded in mine. I squeeze her hand, to bring her back to me.

She looks at me sadly, "I'm so sorry, Malcolm."

Fiona pulls her face away from her hands. "This is an act of War, Malcolm. He did it to cease power," she spits.

I can't do anything but nod.

Her hunched form straightens, "You're just going to sit there? He killed her Malcolm. He killed my sister, your wife, and the mother of your only son. Those beasts he sent turned your son into a mo- she hesitates. I think she looks ashamed. Finally, she breathes, "The Mage is responsible for making your son's life as difficult as it has been."

I breathe, "I know."

She stands, "you know?" Really, I couldn't tell you even cared."

Daphne rushes to her feet before I can stop her, "you have no right to say my husband doesn't care! None! You saw how he was after…"

Fiona narrows her eyes, "and you just wiggled your way in, didn't you…"

Rage consumes me. "Fiona!" I warn, standing too. "Have you been cursed by a sprite! You should watch your tongue!"

She comes closer, "I just found out my sister was murdered by the fucking Mage! Thirteen years too late!"

I hold my gaze, "you have been angry for a while now, Fiona. I heard how you spoke to the Snow boy."

She sneers, "so you want to protect him now? Less than an hour ago you would have gladly helped me kill him!"

I ignore the comment, "Fiona, what's going on?"

She hesitates, so she must have expected a retaliation.

"It doesn't matter anymore," she mutters.

So something has happened.

I won't relent, despite this. "Then. Mind. Your. Tongue. Now and later. We must not lose tact. If we are going to go against the Mage, more than we already have, we need to be careful. We cannot forget that in the eyes of the Coven, he in charge. We will need to know how Basilton came by this information, for its reliability to be considered by others."

Fiona moves closer, "what if the Mage goes to the Coven, tells them we've kidnapped his golden child?"

I consider this. It's undoubtedly a possibility, but why reason would the Mage have to suspect we would harbour our enemy. "You think he would suspect Snow to be here?" I ask.

She looks at me carefully, her eyes flickering to Daphne. "Basil has gotten …closer to Snow."

I sigh, "yes, I suppose. He allowed him to stay here last holidays."

A look comes across Fiona's face. One that undoubtedly is meant to bring my intellect into question. Then is becomes meaningful, her eyebrows lifting, as if to suggest… I straighten myself, "I- how did you learn of this?"

She folds her arms, "they were holding hands, in my car. The whole way here."

I shift, "and you think it is real …their relationship?"

She sits, "I don't know about Snow, but Baz seems to care about him. Really care. On the phone, he'd seemed quite upset. Worried, even. And he never just calls. You know him, Malcom. He could be swallowed by a dragon and would insist on getting himself out rather than call."

"So you think that Snow might be a spy?"

She leans forward, hands clasped. "I think it's a possibility. Baz was insistent that I get Snow away from Watford, but the boy seemed more or less unharmed. It may be an act. One that Baz cant-"

"It's not."

Both of us look to Daphne, surprised. "Why do you say this?" I ask.

She takes my hand, her expression softening. "Malcolm, you must have seen. When Simon was here last, that boy wore his emotions on his sleeves. He couldn't hide a thing, so I don't think he could pretend. Basil, he became so much, well, more. He talked more, his music was stronger. Malcolm, I saw him skip stairs to answer the door for Simon."

I shake my head, looking away. "That doesn't mean-"

She places a hand on my cheek, turning my face to her. "Simon couldn't have made Baz behave like that if he was pretending," she says, "Basil's smarter than that."

Fiona breathes, "fine. Let's say that hypothetically, Snow actually does care. What the hell does that mean in terms of the Mage. Snow is still loyal to him, he might put us at risk."

But he's not ! At least, not anymore. Not now.

I must consider my son's judgment, even if- I let myself breathe. "Basilton said that Snow was no longer in allegiance with the Mage."

Fiona lift's an eyebrow, "and you think that's true?"

"Basilton believes it."

Fiona seems to consider this. "When he called…" she begins, "when he said Snow was hurt. He said the Mage."

"The Mage...?"

"He just said his name."

Daphne taps a finger, "Simon may have been the one that learnt the truth about Natasha, and told Basil. The Mage may have turned against him, if he thought he revealed the information."

"It's a possibility…."

Fiona looks to the door, as if she expects someone to come through it. "You think there's more?"

I nod, "yes, I think there is more."

Simon

Turns out I still remember where Baz's room is. He's sitting on the window seat when I come in, watching the moon through the glass. He's in his pyjamas, his Watford uniform discarded. Well, more likely folded in a hamper somewhere, but discarded nonetheless. I think he probably reads there's sometimes. One leg outstretched while the other is bent a bit to rest his book against.

He's got his knees against his chest now, head resting against the frame. There's enough space for another person to sit.

"Ghoul's in your room again?" he asks.

I smile a little, going over to him. He watches as I sit on the edge, facing him. His eyes are still a bit red. "You alright?" I ask

He shifts, "I'll talk to Fiona in the morning," he says. "She'll come ro-"

"I mean when you came inside the house. You'd been crying, yeah?"

He swallows, looking out the window again. "I told Father what the Mage did. That he was responsible for what happened to my mother." He pauses, "and me."

I pull myself onto the window seat, squashing myself up to so I can fit. "I'm sorry I didn't listen before."

He shakes his head, "Simon, please don't do this now…"

I move my legs underneath me, so I'm closer. "No, I have to. I should have- Crowley he hurt you and I didn't want to see. I didn't want to admit. I know it's not an excuse, but I was telling myself that maybe he made a mistake, or thought he was doing the right thing. Christ, I'm so sorry."

I don't expect a reply. I'm not arrogant enough to expect him to forgive me. I wouldn't expect him too. Not after everything I've said. I go to get up.

But he reaches for me, pulling me back.

"I don't …I don't blame you," he says slowly. "He means a lot to you, Simon."

"Meant."

He breathes, "are you sure?"

He says it so kindly, so patiently.

I swallow. "...I don't know." It's barely a whisper.

Baz only nods.

This is so fucked, he shouldn't have to be friends with someone who still respects- No. I'll never respect that man again. But he's still… I can't even meet Baz's eye. "I'm sorry," I whisper, starting to move again. To leave.

He puts a hand on my knee, stopping me. "Simon," he breathes, "It's okay."

No. It's not. Nothing's been okay, ever. Not now, not before this all happened. Nothing's been okay our entire lives. Because of him. I feel my chest tighten, and I dig my hands into my trousers, "I hate him, Baz. So much. But he's still like my-" I pause, realising something. "He's still-" The words are trapped in my throat, refusing to be spoken.

Baz squeezes my knee, "I know."