BAZ

Simon's sitting on the couch when I get home, papers strewn all over the coffee table. He has a desk. I know he has a desk. I'm just not sure he knows he knows he has a desk.

"Hey Snow," I say, sitting down next to him. "Working hard?" He leans over to give me kiss, then returns immediately to the drawing in his hand.

"Michelle finally sent me these. I want to get them back to her tomorrow. Is this how you think a troll should look?" Michelle is Simon's illustrator. She's a pretty Normal with delicate features and a shock of red hair. She also has a wicked crush on Simon. You'd think that would bother me, but watching him moon over Agatha for all those years kind of killed my jealous tendencies. Plus, Simon had her over for tea once, back when Bunce was still living here, and the two of us made such a show of being both intimidating and possessive (we're good at that) that I think she lost interest.

"Snow, you know what a troll looks like. You've fought enough of them." I look at the drawing properly. "And that's not it." Simon sighs.

"I know. But this is a children's book, so I don't want them to be too realistic. The first time I saw one, I had nightmares about it for months."

"That's because it tried to suck your brain out through your eyes," I point out. "Most people would have nightmares after that." Simon shrugs.

"Still…" He's thinking too hard about this, but it's cute watching him try. I give him a kiss on the cheek and stand.

"I'm going to order dinner," I say. "Does Indian sound good?" Simon gives me a grin that he reserves for food.

"Sounds greats. Thanks Baz."

SIMON

I'm not sure what time it is when the phone wakes me up. I know it's dark out. Baz groans into his pillow.

"Who the hell is that?" he grumbles. "And why are they calling before dawn?"

"Sorry," I say, fumbling for my phone. I look at the screen.

"It's Penny," I say, sitting up. Suddenly Baz and I are much more awake. Penny wouldn't call in the middle of the night for no reason (even though it's technically not the middle of the night for her yet.) She knows better. Baz sits up too and looks at my phone with concern. I answer it on speaker so we both can hear.

"Hi Penny," I say.

"Simon!" She doesn't sound like she's in danger. She sounds excited.

"Is everything ok? It's 3 am."

"I know, I'm sorry, but I had to call you. This couldn't wait until tomorrow."

"What couldn't wait? Is everything's alright? Nobody's dead or on fire or anything?"

"No, everyone's fine Simon. I just have someone here who wants to talk to you." I look at Baz and he shrugs like Penny has lost it. I can hear scuffling in the background as Penny passes the phone around.

"Simon?" I freeze. I haven't heard that voice in years.

"Agatha?"

"Simon," she says again, and she sounds relived. "It's…it's really good to hear your voice."

"You too Agatha," I say, but I'm worried as hell and dumbfounded as to what is happening. Baz can tell and puts a comforting arm over my shoulders. I lean into him.

"Agatha," I say. "How are you? Is everything alright?" There's a pause on the other end.

"Simon," she says, and I think she's crying. "Can you come here?"

"Here where? To Penny's house?"

"Yes. I really need to talk to you, and I just can't do this over the phone." She pauses and I know she's crying. "Please?" Baz slips away from me and goes over to his desk. He opens his laptop and types furiously.

"I can get us on the 10:00 flight to Chicago," he says. I nod.

"I'll be there tomorrow Agatha, ok? Just wait with Penny. Everything's going to be ok."

"Thanks Simon," she says. There's some more scuffling and Penny comes back on.

"Simon?"

"Penny, is everything really ok? What's going on?"

"Everything's fine Simon," she assures me. "Really. Agatha's fine, she's just…well she needs you. I can't say why, it's not for me to tell, but don't worry about her. I'll keep an eye on her until you get here."

"Thanks Penny."

"And don't fret too much. This might actually turn out to be a good thing." I raise my eyebrow.

"How?"

"You'll see. I'll see you tomorrow ok?"

"See you." I hang up. Baz gets back into bed and wraps me up in his arms.

"If Bunce says she's fine, then she's fine," he says reassuringly, rubbing my back.

"Yeah but what happened to her? I haven't even talked to her in ages and suddenly she needs to see me right away? That's not normal. And how could this be a good thing?"

"Bunce is handling it. And you'll see her tomorrow. Everything will be ok Simon." He gives me a comforting squeeze.

"You don't have to come with you know," I say. Baz shakes his head.

"Yes I do." I don't argue. I'm glad he's coming.

BAZ

Neither of us can go back to sleep, so I get up to pack. I pack for both of us, since Simon is in no condition to do much more than sit in bed and fret.

It'd be a lie to say I wasn't worried about Wellbelove. No one has seen hide or hair from her since she ran off to California (although Bunce texts her sometimes) and suddenly she just magically reappears and needs to see Simon this instant? I can't even imagine what could have happened, but I do trust Bunce. If it had been serious, she would have told us so.

I call my department and tell them I'm taking leave for a few days for a family emergency. I also email Michelle and tell her it may take Simon a few days to get her proofs back to her. Then I force Simon to eat something (it isn't hard, but I'm worried that if I don't tell him to he might forget, given the state he's in). We get into my car, make a quick stop at Hank's so I can have a drink (I'm not sure when I'll next get the chance), and head to Heathrow.

Simon doesn't say much on the flight. Just holds my hand and stares out the window. Finally, I can't stand to see him so depressed and anxious anymore, so I cast Sweet dreams on him so he can get a little sleep.

Micah picks us up at the airport.

"Hey guys!" he says, and he seems way too cheerful, given the circumstances. "How's it going?" I raise an eyebrow at him, and Simon just shrugs. Micah chuckles.

"That good huh?" he teases. I roll my eyes.

"Well, how do you expect us to be?" I ask. "We get a mysterious phone call in the middle of the night from a girl we haven't heard from in ages asking us to drop everything and fly halfway around the world for an emergency that she can't even explain. How would you be?" Micah waves me off.

"Agatha's fine. If you ask me, she's overreacting. She's always been a bit of a drama queen, hasn't she?"

"Is she really ok?" Simon asks. Micah grins.

"Why don't you ask her that? Come on, the girls are waiting."

It takes over two hours to get to Micah and Bunce's home in central Illinois. Micah's family lives on a farm where they raise corn and chickens (I don't know how Bunce stands it. I guess she gets by on her scholarship. Bunce writes Magickal history and sociology books and biographies of famous Mages.)

Bunce runs out of the house when the car pulls up, and Simon smiles despite himself. (I have to work hard to suppress a smile. Crowley, it's good to see her.) Simon gets out of the car and Bunce barrels into him.

"Simon!" she squeals, throwing her arms around him. "It's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you too," Simon says, and I can tell he means it, despite the circumstances. "But what happened to 'don't make a scene?'" Bunce rolls her eyes.

"It's not a scene, it's a hug. Learn the difference." She then turns to me and gives me a hug too.

"Hey Baz, how's it going?"

"Not too bad Bunce," I say, trying to sound cool and casual.

"It's Sanchez now you know." I shrug.

"Yeah, whatever Bunce." She grins at me.

"Penny," Simon cuts in. "How's Agatha?" Bunce gives him a warm smile.

"Why don't you see for yourself? She's inside."

We walk through a yard full of broken lawn furniture and chickens into a three story farmhouse that looks like one good wind would blow it over. (I can feel the magic being used to hold it up so I'm not too worried). We follow Bunce into the kitchen, and there she is.

Wellbelove. Sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a mug of tea. Her skin is tanner and her hair is shorter, but she's every bit as beautiful as I remember. She looks up when we walk in.

"Simon," she says, and she looks both worried and relieved to see him.

"Agatha…" Simon starts to say, but he trails off as Agatha stands up.

Her skin is tanner.

Her hair is shorter.

She's every bit as beautiful as I remember.

And she's at least six months gone.