All That We Are

If You Must Spy

Simon

I peek at Agatha through a crack in the door. She's got her makeup brushes and tubes and bottles spread out across the bathroom, and she's dabbing something onto her cheeks.

I study her face, trying to remember what I saw in her. Wondering if there's any of that old flutter in my stomach leftover from our Watford days.

I mean, she's pretty; Agatha Wellbelove is most definitely gorgeous. But... if I'm being honest?Baz is prettier. Not just prettier, but more beautiful. Agatha is pretty in the way a movie star is pretty; doll-like, perfect, flawless, untouchable. But Baz is beautiful in a way that's more real. He is right here, right now. Flawed, but all the more lovely for it.  The realisation strengthens my reserve,  and suddenly I don't feel so nervous anymore. I don't feel like Agatha's a snake just waiting to bite.

I push open the door.

"Agatha--" Agatha jumps with a surprised gasp, cutting me off and making me gasp. She stares at me like I'm a ghost, her eyes wide and petrified. Her breaths come too fast, like she's just been on a run.

Once we've both recovered, I try again.

"Sorry... Breakfast is ready, if you'd like some. Kippers and toast." Agatha nods, her liquid brown eyes never leaving my face. Jutting my jaw out, I square my shoulders and stand my ground, refusing to look away.

"It's good to see you, Simon," She says at last, breaking the awful silence. I feel my cheeks heat up, and, not for the first time, I'm glad I can't Go Off anymore. If I could, the flat would be on fire.

"It's, um... good to see you, too..." My words sound more like a question than anything. Am I glad to see her? I'm not sure.

Clearing my throat, I turn to leave.

"Breakfast is on the table, if you'd like some," I tell her over my shoulder. I hear a quiet 'thank you' in reply before I close the door behind me, blocking out Agatha Wellbelove and all her chaotic glory.

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I check my mobile every five minutes. Baz was supposed to call every morning, but it's already ten thirty and he hasn't even texted. I'm starting to get worried again; that horrible clenching in my stomach making my kippers want to make a reappearance.

To make matters worse, Agatha keeps trying to talk to me. And she's using this voice-- like what you would use to speak with a sick kid. Not with a twenty-one-year-old ex-supervillain. I can't handle it for much longer; it's making my head spin chaotically and it's not helping my stomachache.

"So, Simon," She asks, dabbing at the corners of her lips like a fucking princess, "How are things? We didn't get a chance to talk yesterday."

I don't look up from my mobile screen (which remains disappointingly blank).

"Hmm? Oh... things are fine. I'm fine. Life's fine," I babble distractedly, not really paying attention to what I'm saying. Penny's gaping at me like I'm a madman. (Maybe I am a madman... isn't checking my phone every two seconds and expecting different results the definition of insanity?).

"How's... Baz?" She asks it so suspiciously and tentatively that I look up at her, brow furrowing in a scowl. She won't meet my eyes.

Fear curdles in my stomach. And more than a bit of jealousy. I swear to Crowley, if she still fancies Baz and tries to make a move I will fuck him in front of her to keep her claws out of him (okay, maybe I'm being a bit dramatic, but still. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch is the love of my life, not hers). I tense up, readying for a fight.

"Baz is... good. He's been happily in a relationship for the past couple of years, and they're great together--" I want to say more, but Penny kicks me viciously under the table, effectively shutting me up. With a pointed look in my direction that plainly says 'shut up, you bloody idiot', she picks up the slack in the conversation. I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at her, rubbing my shin under the table.

"Baz has been hanging around with us a lot more, lately," Penny replies stiffly. "It's a pity he couldn't be here while you're here, but he had some stuff he had to see to. How are things in America?"

Agatha's face falls disappointedly for a moment, but she composes herself and plasters an obviously fake smile onto her pink lips.

What did I ever see in her?

"Things are really great," she responds, flipping her long hair out of her face (even that gesture feels annoying now). "I've got a cute flat, and Uni is so fun. Everyone there's great. What's Micah up to these days?"

Penny blushes, a small smile tugging up the corner of her mouth.

"Micah is still working with his dad in Ohio, but he's thinking about moving here. I think..." Penny bites her lip, obviously trying not to smile and failing miserably. An answering grin ghosts my lips; I know where she's going with this. She's talked about this for a long time. "I think," Penny continues, "I'm going to propose to him next time he visits."

Agatha squeals excitedly, making me wince. Why is everything she does grating on my nerves so much? It's like I've forgotten how to just be friends with Agatha-- I don't want to hate her, but that seems to be what my brain is set on.

"Oh my God, Penny! That's so exciting! Call me as soon as it happens, yeah?" she burbles. Penny smiles, and it's a real smile. Not one of those tense, tight smiles I've been seeing so much of lately. No, Penelope Bunce is actually happy. And I'm happy she's happy; just because I can't deal with Agatha doesn't mean Penelope has to dislike her, too. Penny needs more friends, and Agatha would make a welcome addition to that category.

In my lap, my mobile buzzes. I jump up, hurtling out of the kitchen and into my room without any explanation to the girls, clutching the device to my chest. Sitting down on my bed, I look at the screen excitedly, praying it's Baz.

It's not.

My heart sinks through the mattress when I realise it's only a reminder I set that Baz is supposed to be calling. The words seem to shimmer tauntingly, hauntingly. He's not gonna call... I hear them whisper in the back of my mind, Something terrible has happened to him and he's never gonna call you again, Simon Snow. Get used to it...

Growling, I throw my mobile. It hits the door, pushing the door shut, and falls to the ground with a lifeless, dull thud. Even from here, I can see it's undamaged. Like a fucking Nokia (except it's not)(I think Penny might've spelled it tough, just because she knows I break things)(not that she would ever admit to doing so).

I press my fists into my eyes, resting my elbows on my knees and hunching over.

"Dammit, Baz..." I murmur angrily to my empty room, "where are you?"

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Author's note:

Hello, dear readers!

Disregard my previous note. There's no way I'm getting this thing done before December... Enjoy the extension of your allotted Snowbaz time :)

-Lefty