Breathless...

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Simon's POV

It feels so good to talk again. To talk to Penelope again. I missed her so much, and. . . well, I just forgot that Penny always has a plan. And she is a fucking genius. Just sitting next to her I feel more optimistic about getting Baz back knowing that my best friend has my back.

And that Baz trusts her. It makes me a little green. Knowing that she got to hold Baz when he was down and not me. But the envy is laced with guilt—no, overshadowed with guilt. And I haven't touched him in weeks. But I'm glad he had someone. Other than Niall who fucking hid him from me!

Penny's sitting across me, in the middle of the Lawn. Her blue ponytail whips in the wind as she squints her eyes pushing her glasses up, marking suitable spots for holding Baz against his will.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't practically shaking with excitement. And nerves. To make things easier she magicked a map of Watford before us, now we only need to figure out where to trap Basil (Because there is no other way he'll get close to me.) It's bittersweet. I finally get him, but he wants nothing to do with me. I get to trap him—outsmart him, but he isn't happy.

I have a sudden realization though and it feels like an 'epiphany!' moment. "Penny! The Weeping Tower!" I yell. A couple of eighth years turn around. Whatever, it would be bloody perfect! There's a storage room there, with treasure chests, chains and weapons to hold back creatures like venomous woodfouls and hobgoblins. Chains.

Penelope's POV

I'm trying really hard to find the right spot to trap Baz, I'm also torn between my loyalty to him and Simon. I mean this must be good for both of them. And that's the only reason I'm agreeing to it. It has absolutely nothing to do with Simon's pleading blue eyes.

As usual Si is being extremely and almost unbearably distracting, nervously tugging on his curls. I look up at him every now and then. Surprised to find him smiling. To hear him humming. To find him present, and not in his head. He's back. My best friend is back. . .

              Suddenly he blurts, "The Weeping Tower!"

"What about it, Si?" I feel my eyebrows knot in confusion.

"Chains, Penny, chains!" a sly grin forms on his lips and his blue eyes are blown wide. He looks and sounds he's on crack.

"What the hell are you going to do with chains?" I ask, peering over my map, magicking it to reveal a dark room. Oh, it's the same room our Magicakal Artefacts teacher stores ancient items in. I vaguely remember handcuffs from the 1600s and torture devices and chains. Does he want to tie Baz up?

"We are going to tie Tyrannus up," he's grinning like an evil mastermind. He has the idiotic, fundamentally flawed plans part down at least.

"Simon. Have you forgotten who your not-exactly-boyfriend is?" I demand, because he's really lost it if he thinks he can tie Baz up against his will.

"What do you mean?" He scoffs.

"Vampire." I whisper, only for Simon's ears, "He has super strength, super speed, and bloody night vision! Simon how exactly do you plan to catch him?" He squirms under my glare. What? It was a stupid idea.

"Wait, Pen! You could distract him and I could jump him from behind!" Again. Wide blue eyes. Hopeful, and stupidly excited—I adore Simon.

"Super strength. He would tear out of your grasp and probably throttle you!" I say rolling my eyes, and his face falls.

"I'll use my magick, I'll think of something, okay?" His jaw is set in determination.

"Alright, Simon." I nod along, telling him spells to hold someone fast (Though I'm certain he won't be able to perform them, because his wand is quite uncooperative. I almost think he'll pull his sword on Baz at this point.)

            We go over the map, and eventually head for the ancient tall, leaning, plant-encased structure known as the Weeping Tower. Of course Simon stops by at the first floor, (the Dining Hall) and grabs snacks. Doughnuts, glazed, covered in powdered sugar. The smell infiltrates my nostrils and I can't help but reach for one.

             After we're done gobbling sweets we make our way to the creepy room.

"Crowley, Penelope. . . look at all this." Simon's eyes dart around in fascination. There's sharp, silver pins and needles stark against the dark, dusty walls. Glinting, they're the only source of light. Maces, hammers, and swords too. Simon loves swords. I have to pinch my nose and cast a freshening spell because it reeks of old, stale air.

"Let there be light!" Simon looks at me as I cast the spell, and I think he's a little disoriented when the room is suddenly lit, because he jumps back and crashes against one of the walls. There's a harsh clang as a sword falls and a strange hiss follows. Simon's hiss.

"Simon, are you okay?!" I ask, running towards him; and there's blood dripping from his arms.

"Early to bed and Early to Rise!"  I whisper, pointing my magenta-stoned ring at Simon. It glows between us. And I don't know if the spell worked too fast or what because he isn't clutching his arm. He doesn't even look like he cares much.

"It's fine, Penny." He says. Well, I suppose all the battles he fights for the Mage are good pain-tolerance builders.

"Shut up, Simon, I'm not letting you bleed out here. . . It'll drive Basil crazy," I say smirking at the end. He laughs and nods for me to continue.

"Good as new! Get well soon!" The wound wraps in on itself patching, and glows a little, disappearing. Melting into his tawny skin.

"Out, Out, damned spot!" I whisper, looking around him for traces of red. And the grimy, crimson liquid trickling down his body vaporizes, dissolving into thin air.

          He gets up, dropping a few more weapons, mercifully not on himself.

"Whoops," He squeaks.

"Seriously, Simon." I roll my eyes, as he bends over to pick them and drops even more!!

"A Place for Everything and Everything in Its Place!" Simon stares awkwardly as the swords slide back in place. I wonder if I can use the spell to put his brain in place. . .

              After glaring at him, I turn around, looking for something useful. Simon randomly taps my shoulder after a few minutes. I'm a little jumpy even though I know it's him, and I turn around to face a blonde devil holding heavy metal chains that are dragging behind him.

"Nicks and Slick, Simon! What is your obsession with chains?!"

"He'd look hot tied up," a smirk plays on Simon's lips.

"Eww, Si—stop waggling your eyebrows! Stop it!" I swat his arm. Merlin, is he kinky.

"Alright, alright. Well at least now we have everything we need. A dark room, chains and me. . ." I give Simon a bewildered look. His smirk only grows wider.