Maybe

Simon was sitting on the couch in his and Penny's apartment when Baz burst through the front door. He had a key, and magic, so Simon wasn't very surprised to see him, however the wild look on his face did worry Simon a bit.

"Baz, what's wrong?" he asked, standing up.

"I...Simon I..." Baz was so out of breath he could barely speak, and Simon quickly got him some water, which he downed in a few gulps. "Simon..I think I...found a way to...get your...magic back!" Baz finally spit out.

"Baz," Simon said, feeling the familiar twinge in his chest, "We've been over this. I never had any magic. Not really. It was never mine to use or keep."

"Bollocks," Baz huffed. "Now come here."

"Now?" SImon asked.

"Yes, now. I know how unhappy you are without magic, and I'm going to do something about it."

"Baz, this is stupid," Simon sighed, though he let Baz pull him to the middle of the living room floor. Baz pulled him down so he was sitting on the carpet opposite Baz, who was pulling things out of a bag Simon hadn't noticed before. There were various precious stone that probably cost more than Simon wanted to know, a few incense sticks and burners, salt, a jar of some sort of brown, muddy liquid, and what Simon thought were dragon scales. "What is all of this?" he asked.

"I've been doing research, and this is everything I think we need. Oh, and your wand. Go get it."

"Baz-"

"Go!"

"Fine." Simon got up and walked to his room, pulling the box of his Watford things from the top shelf of his closet where he'd hidden it. It had his wand, his last uniform, some of his favorite schoolbooks, some pictures, and a few other things. He'd planned on keeping them as mementos, but instead he'd hidden them away, because seeing them had been too painful. Now, sifting through his old uniform to the bottom where he'd stuffed his wand brought back that pain. Simon had very little faith that Baz could actually help him get his magic back, but a small part of him couldn't help but hope.

Once he found his wand he returned to the living room, where Baz now had the stones set out in a circle connected by salt. Penny was going to have a fit over salt in the carpet. The jar was sitting open in the center of the circle, and there were three dragon scales fanned out in front of Baz, and another three fanned out across from him. The incense was set on the coffee table, four sticks emitting potent smoke into the air.

"Baz, what is this?" Simon asked.

"Stop asking questions and wasting time. You have your wand?" Simon raised it. "Good. Sit across from me, where those scales are." Simon sat, careful not to disrupt anything Baz had set out. "Good," Baz repeated, "Now hold your wand in your right hand, and put your left on mine." Simon raised an eyebrow, a smirk breaking out on his face. "If I wanted to hold your hand, I'd just do it, you twit," Baz said.

"I didn't say anything," Simon said.

"Whatever. Are you ready?"

"For what?"

"To get your magic back, obviously! Now, you just have to sit here and feel...open, I guess. Receptive. At least, for the first part." Baz glanced down at a piece of paper in front of him. "Powers that be, all in due time, a good heart is hard to find," he read, "Time flies, hell bent and heaven bound, run the risk, one lost ten found." He pushed the paper over to Simon while pushing harder on Simon's hand. "Read this," he said, pointing.

"Let the chips fall where they may, when all is said and done, it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all." Baz touched the tip of his wand to Simon's, and Simon felt his hand against Baz's grow warm. Baz pressed harder on Simon's hand, and it almost felt like they were burning. The stones around them were shaking, and it felt like everything was slightly darker than it had been a few minutes ago, even though the curtains were still open.

"Baz, what's happening?" Simon asked.

"Just hold on, Simon!" Baz replied. Everything continued for another few seconds, then Simon felt like something was filling him up, warming him from the inside out. Suddenly everything stopped, as quickly as it had started, but Simon still felt warm and full.

"Baz?" Simon asked.

"How do you feel?" Baz replied.

"Full. Warm. You?"

"A little tired, but fine. Did it work?"

"I...I don't know."

"Try it," Baz said, as if it should be obvious.

"But...what if it acts like last time?" Simon asked. Baz stood up, took Simon's wrist, and pulled him into the kitchen. Baz set a plastic cup on the table and turned to look at Simon.

"Make it float. Light as a feather." Baz was leaving no room for argument, so Simon took a deep breath and riveted his gaze on the cup.

"Light as a feather," he said, trying to draw up whatever magic might be inside him. For a moment nothing happened, but right when Simon was about to give up the cup shook, and lifted a few inches. "Baz! Baz!" Simon said.

"I see it, Simon, I see it!" Simon set the cup back down, and Baz had his arms around him.

"Baz...I...I did it! But...how?" Simon asked. Baz held his boyfriend tightly, their fingers woven together.

"You really want to know?" Baz asked.

"Yes! Baz, I thought I'd never get my magic back. How did this happen?"

"I found out through quite a bit of very obscure reading that there was a theory that, through that ceremony we just performed in the living room, soulmates can share magic. There were all kinds of warnings and stuff, but, well, I thought since you already were a magician it had a better chance of working."

"So I have your magic?" Simon asked.

"No. You have some of our magic, Simon," Baz said, squeezing Simon's hands. "We're soulmates, as cheesy as it sounds."

"I could have told you that," Simon said, poking Baz's nose. Baz shook his head and kissed Simon's nose, and then his lips.

"I love you, Mr. Magician."