Sixth Year (Snowbaz)

33. The Runaway Baz

AN: Why do I spend so long researching cars for this fic... (will edit this later and next chapter will continue from Baz's POV)

Simon

Okay, Agatha and I are definitely not getting back together. No matter how much dandelion wine we drink. She's kept to her room most of the time or catches up with her Normal friend, Minty. Dr and Mrs Wellbelove know we've broken up so there's this weird tension in the air every time we're all together. Her parents still love me. They keep looking at me like I'm a ghost they'll never quite see in full again.

Helen and I watched the newest season of Doctor Who in the first two nights of break. Then spend the rest of the week leading up to Christmas watching our favourite episodes on DVD. The David Tennant series' are our favourites. We also both agree that Donna is the Doctor's best companion and that film and television should have more platonic relationships. We're watching Donna's first episode 'The Runaway Bride' and eating tonight's leftover's.

Mrs Wellbelove gave me some of my Christmas presents early. A nice pair of dark blue jeans and a cream cable-knit jumper. I went into the city yesterday and bought Agatha Adele's 21 album on vinyl with some of my leprechaun's gold. In Harrods found a dragon paperweight for Dr. Wellbelove and a floral table cloth for Mrs. Wellbelove. I got everything gift wrapped at the store because I'm rubbish at doing it myself. I bugger it up even if I use magic. The presents I bought for the Wellbelove's are under the Christmas tree. It's funny how Magicians still celebrate Christmas. None of us are religious but I guess lots of non-religious Normals still celebrate Christmas. I mean, there's roast turkey and Yorkshire puddings, so, why not?

I'm dipping slices of roast ham in a dish of cranberry sauce when Helen goes up to answer the doorbell. I wonder if its carollers. It's not even Christmas Eve. It's Christmas Eve eve. The Doctor, Donna and Lance are on the Segways now which I know is Helen's favourite part so I pause it. I hear voices in the doorway.

"Please, it's an emergency," a muffled voice says

"You have no business with Mr. Snow," Helen says.

I finish of the bowl of ham before wandering out of the front room(it's the good kind. Smoked leg. Not those rubbish deli slices they gave us at the children's home). Maybe it's the Mage or one of his men coming to whisk me away to deal with the Humdrum. Perhaps the Mage has come to hide me in a cave somewhere.

Licking the cranberry sauce from my fingers I step into the entryway of the room. I hover behind Helen to see who's requesting me from the doorstep. There, in the glow of the porch light is none other than Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch bundled in a black coat and a scarf, blowing out foggy breaths of the cold London air.

"Baz." My mouth hangs open, head shaking in disbelief.

His nose and cheeks are painted pink from the cold. He must've eaten recently for the blood to be rising so readily. I hope he didn't make a meal of Agatha's cat.

I turn to Helen. "Do you mind if I speak to Mr. Pitch alone for a minute?"

She nods and returns to the front room.

I step outside and close the front door behind me so nobody can hear us.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" I say in a coarse whisper.

Baz's response comes in a kiss. Pushing me against the brick wall of the townhouse. Deep and long. Hands at the sides of my face. His cold nose pressed to my warm one. He breaks away, itching to speak.

"I was wrong," Baz says.

"About what?" I ask. I'm clinging to the scarf around his neck like a life line.