Simon:
The wings and tail, I had to admit, were a bit of a shock.
I mean, imagine hopping to the future and finding out that you suddenly have a unicorn horn and feet for hands. A shock!
Screaming may have been a bit overboard, especially since I'd planned my dramatic entrance to be a little more…well…dramatic.
But I'd popped into my future body with tears running down my face, wings sprouting out of my back, and a dumbfounded Baz staring at me.
We couldn't be more than a couple of years down the line. Baz still looked like the pompous wanker he always was. If I squinted, I could tell he styled his hair differently, and wore more casual clothing.
My next thought revolved solely around the fact that Baz was wearing jeans.
"Snow?" He asked, tone questioning, and a little frightened.
"In the flesh." I attempted to sit up, but my head felt like it'd been smacked against a wall. I leaned back heavily, wrinkling my nose at the wings that made it more uncomfortable than it should've been "Or slightly altered flesh. Any idea how I managed to get wings and a tail?"
"I…" Baz began, and then stopped himself. Then out of nowhere, he pushed into my personal space, crouched, and stared me in the eye "Are you the real Simon, or this place's version?"
"I…" Momentarily sidetracked, I stared into Baz's eyes for a moment. They were very grey. Very sparkly. "You're asking if I'm future me?"
"Future you?" Baz froze once more. I reached out, and poked him hard in the chest, leading him to topple over, onto his butt.
"Yes." I said slowly, as if speaking to a child "Because you used a spell that took you to the future. You feeling okay, Baz?"
"I…future spell…what?" Baz looked flustered. It was not like Baz to be flustered. I was now slightly concerned.
"Yep. Back to the future. I guess we know each other in the future, huh? I mean, it seems like I was already hanging out at your place"
"My place" Baz's eyes briefly scanned the apartment before returning to me, the defiant edge they always had slowly returning. I felt an odd sense of relief "This won't be my apartment, I can assure you. I'm too tasteful to put up that particularly horrifying picture of a turkey merged with a cow. And I can also reassure you that we won't be friends in the future. The moment we leave Watford, I'm done with you until I can skewer you alive in the war."
"Right." Why did he have to be such a twat? "So, why did you want to come to the future anyway? Plotting?"
"It doesn't matter" Baz said brusquely, standing up "Do you know a way to get back, or not? I don't want to be here longer than I need to be.
Silently, I went over the counter-measures I'd seen in the book. I didn't know where we'd find unicorn dust, and I'd rather die than ingest frog slime. I was probably as broke in the future as I was in the present, so I'd never be able to afford a way to mount Everest.
And I couldn't see myself coincidentally coming across my true love in the short time the spell would last.
"No," I replied "Guess we'll just have to wait a week until the spell wears off."
I tried not to be offended by Baz's horrified expression.
….
Baz:
As I've long suspected, the world hates me.
Merlin and Morgana, I was undergoing an information overload. Luckily for me, my brain runs at a rate faster than most people, so I was able to process the situation fairly quickly as Snow droned on about whatnot.
One: The time travel spell was in fact, not a spell to take me to the past. I was in the future. This is why it's hammered into a Pitch from an early age to always read the terms and conditions.
Two: Snow had followed me to the future, for reasons currently unknown. Further inquiry would have to ensue
Three: We were stuck here together for at least a week.
Four: In the future, it appeared that all of my fifth year fantasies had come true, and I was dating (or at least in some sort of romantic relationship) with Simon Snow.
I hated how much my heart lifted at the idea.
Five: The Snow from my time could never find out.
First things first, remove all evidence of said relationship.
"I'm going to take a look around" I told Snow, and ignored his objections about it being his future house.
It appeared that it was mine as well.
The living room, which Snow and I currently occupied only had one picture, a picture snapped of us at the Leavers Ball.
Snatching it, I thanked my lucky stars for Simon's density, and apparent lack of need to look around him.
The kitchen had more pictures, pinned up on the fridge by magnets, which went flying as I removed them one by one.
After a careful moment of staring, I opened one of the fridge draws, and winced.
Packets, and packets of animal blood.
I buried them deep in the trash, and watched, unflinching, as the cold liquid slowly left the cheap, plastic cup through the cracks that I'd created in my haste, dying the paper that lay beside it a deep crimson.
My fangs popped.
I turned away.
After that, it was a blur.
Years of supposed memories, gone in an instant, proof of time together gone easily as smoke in the wind.
The bedroom was last, and unfortunately, chock-full of evidence of the not-future relationship.
Pictures of us together lined the walls- our faces drowned out the occasional appearance of Bunce and her American boyfriend.
Snow's golden girl was nowhere to be seen.
The room was cosy and warm, and there was a quilt blanket that I was sure Snow had coerced me into buying, and there was an unopened letter from Aunt Fiona on the windowsill, and a copy of Crime and Punishment lay open on the bed, and-
I hated all of it. It made me feel like the bedroom was ours. Like the photos and drawings were somehow intimate.
With everything I tore down, I could hear my heart breaking over and over.
Because I knew that it could never be real. I don't know what I'd managed to do that had ended up with me and Snow together in the first place, but I was sure that I wouldn't be able to make it happen a second time.
I made a note of yet another thing I hated: How desperately I wanted this to be my future.
Unable to bring myself to shove everything into the bin, I stuffed the collection of frames and papers and belongings under the bed.
Snow could never bring himself to clean the room back at Watford, which he inhabits most of the year. He certainly wouldn't start trying to clean a room that he'd been in for less than a week.
Once the walls were clear, and there were no more indications of my presence in the loft (I'd even got rid of one of the toothbrushes in a cup by the sink, and my hair gel had been safely stowed underneath the cabinet), I seated myself on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling.
I resented my future self for having everything I'd ever wanted. For me never being able to have that.
I didn't cry, because I was stronger than that. I was the son of a Grimm and a Pitch after all. I wouldn't let pesky emotions get in my way.
Except when they got in the way of me planning to kill Simon Snow one day, but that wasn't the point.
What was the point again?
My eyes picked up one lone photograph of me, Snow and Bunce. It looked like we were at a party, and someone had suddenly taken us by surprise with the photograph.
Bunce was grinning, I was looking down at Snow, smiling and clearly besotted.
He was looking back at me in exactly the same way.
Unthinkingly, I tucked the photo in my pocket.
If I was going to be pathetic, I might as well go the whole hog.
Stretching, I strode back to the living room, where Snow laid fully across the couch, flicking through the channels lackadaisically, a bored expression on his face. When he heard me come in, he sat up, an expectant expression on his face.
"You said that we're here for a week?"
"Yes."
"Okay. We'll just have to wait it out then. Since this is clearly your apartment, judging by the abysmal décor" I sneered for effect "You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch"
"Why don't we share the bed? It'll be more comfortable."
The time travel had apparently addled Snow's brain beyond comprehension.
"Snow, I don't fancy being an even closer subject to your snoring. Just try to keep away from me as much as possible."
And he did. We ate at different times. I went out at night to hunt (in hindsight, throwing away that blood may have been a bad idea). We kept ourselves busy in separate parts of the house (Although I suspected that Snow was playing video games instead of researching for our History of Magick paper like I was).
And just like that, two days passed.
…
Simon:
Two days had passed, and I was bored out of my mind. After my lapse of sanity when I offered that Baz and I share a bed, we stopped talking completely.
Not that I'd usually mind- a world without Baz is a calm world after all. But I found that I oddly missed the git.
Eventually, I started actually attempting to start a conversation, in ways that didn't always work so well.
Coming up behind Baz while he was holding a knife in the kitchen turned out to be a not so great idea.
The comment afterwards about trying to make him stab himself may also have been in poor taste.
But he wasn't talking to me!
So, after two excruciatingly boring days filled with Pokemon and Mario passed, I tried once more.
I prepared for the mission in the best ways I could. Distraction was key, if I wanted to make him focus long enough for me to get a sentence in without him walking away. If used correctly, I may even confuse him enough to make him stop plotting for the next few years
The yoga pants and crop top was perfect.
I also needed entrance music. 'Everything is Awesome' from the Lego Movie seemed appropriate.
(Especially since it was the only music I had on CD for my music player, since I didn't know the passcode to my own phone.)
Mission launched.
"TYRANNUS BASILTON GRIMM-PITCH!" I announced in a voice several octaves shriller than usual once I reached the door of the living room, where he sat propped up with a book and a notepad which he was scribbling in.
At the sound of my voice, Baz glanced up, and his eyes widened comically.
I grinned "I'm bored"
"No kidding" His tone was flat, and his face seemed to be contorting to an expression between fear and constipation. His eyes inexplicably seemed firmly fixed on the skin of my stomach that was exposed by the crop top, before he ripped them away "Put on some clothes"
"I'm wearing cloth-"
But before I could even finish, he'd pushed past me, and escaped to the bedroom, a light flush dusting his cheeks.
Mission failed. We'll get 'em next time.
Seeing as the living room was now free, I threw myself down on the couch, and pulled out my phone.
When the ringtone started blaring, I lurched forwards in shock, and almost deposited both myself and my phone onto the floor.
However, when I caught sight of the caller I.D, I don't hesitate to pick it up "Penny!"
"Simon! I've been trying to reach you for the past few days! Why haven't you picked up your phone?"
"There was…" I belatedly realise that telling Penny about the time travel thing probably wouldn't be the best idea. Didn't want to mess with the future "A situation." I finished lamely.
"A situation?" She slowly let out a breath. I could hear Micah asking her if she was okay in the background "Did you at least sort out the stuff with Baz?"
"Stuff with Baz?"
"Your fight? Honestly Simon, it's like you don't know you-" She suddenly broke off , and was silent for a moment before bursting into speech once more "You're Simon from the past, aren't you?"
"Whaaaaaaat?" Curse my voice for being so high " Nooooooooo!"
"Simon, don't play dumb with me. Now listen, I'd come and help you, but as you probably…don't…know, I live in America now. Make sure to tell me about this when you get back, by the way."
"I-"
"Oh, and Simon?" She cut me off once more "Check the locket"
A beep indicating that she had hung up resounded over the phone, and I looked at it resentfully for a moment before placing it next to me. If she'd figured out that it wasn't future me, then she could at least give me a few more tips than that.
Locket? Where would…
At a steady pace, I brought my hand closer to my neck, and pulled on the chain around it. But instead of my cross, a silver pendant hung on the interlocked loops.
Baz had managed to get close to me on that first day without feeling anything. At this point, I was so used to having my cross around my neck, I hadn't even bothered checking.
Achingly slowly, I undo the clasp, and take the pendant in my hand, prising it open.
Upon seeing the contents, I gasped sharply, and stared at it for a couple more beats before closing it, and putting it back around my neck, as if all was right with the world.
Without another sound, I picked up my phone, feeling vaguely dazed
I entered Baz's birthday into the keypad.
It unlocked.