Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This can’t be happening.”

Penny gave my very genuine and serious statement a pat on the shoulder that felt incredibly unsupportive. 

“It won’t be… that bad.”

Ha! Being partnered with Baz in class was 100% “that bad.” In fact, it was probably—no, definitely—worse than “that bad.” 

I dropped my head to rest on her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her middle in an attempt to gain at least some pity.

“We both know that’s a lie, Pen.”

She sighed. “I… I know, Si. Just, try to not kill each other, okay?”

“Have you considered pursuing a career in comedy?”

“Simon.”

“Penny.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose before pushing her glasses up and giving me her most unimpressed glare. It wasn’t as effective as Baz’s, but it still made me retract my arms and head in fear of losing a limb. Or a life.

“Snow, if you don’t get over here in the next thirty seconds I’ll turn you into a pile of dust.” I flinched, turning to look back at Penny desperately. 

And yes, maybe I was overreacting just a little bit, but this was Baz, the king of dramatics.

“See!” I hissed, because sue me, maybe I’m also a dramatic bitch.

Penny gifted me with another patronising shoulder pat before moving to her seat next to Gareth, thankfully just across the aisle from where Baz and I were supposed to be. 

Extra back-up, that’s good. That’s smart. 

“You’ll be fine.” 

Or not. 

“Snow,” Baz’s annoyed voice rang through the air before I could counter her again, so I just huffed and stood.

“Coming!” 

I dropped heavily into the seat next to him and crossed my arms, squinting at the two marbles sitting on the desk in front of us. Shit, I was… not paying attention to the lesson at all. Whoops.

“What are we supposed to be doing again?” Baz pressed his lips together in obvious annoyance, giving me a small spark of satisfaction. His irritation fueled me.

“Did you listen to the lecture at all?” 

I shrugged, just because I knew he hated it.

“Not really.”

“Figures.” Wait, what’s that supposed to mean? 

I sat up straight, glaring at him. He just rolled his eyes, gesturing to the marbles. “We’re supposed to cast the spell that turns this marble to dust, then the spell that restores it. Not that I trust you anywhere near a destructive spell.”

“Hey.” 

“But, Posibelf partnered us together for whatever ridiculous reason, and I want to maintain my grade in this class.” 

Of course that’s all he cares about.

“Just cast the fucking spell and get it over with.” I slumped back into my seat again, glaring at the floor. 

“Language, Mr. Snow.” Miss Posibelf’s voice made me jump, and I sheepishly glanced up to meet her strict look. 

“Sorry, ma’am.” 

Baz hummed, casually slipping his wand out of his sleeve. “I’m forever wowed by your mature vocabulary, Snow.”

“Cast the fu–reaking. Freaking,” Posibelf raised an eyebrow, but turned away without scolding me again, so win. “Spell.” Baz smirked, then pointed his wand at the marbles.

“Have a Break! Have a Kit-Kat!”

Seriously? That’s it?

“Think you can manage the restoration spell?” I scowled, pulling my wand out and pointing it at the dust pile. 

“Shut up.” 

“No, seriously, I’m asking. I know you tend to struggle with simple tasks, so I just want to make sure you, as a student, are comfortable with the level at which you are expected to perform.” 

Something about the fake sincerity in his voice set my magic on edge, making me grit my teeth as it itched underneath my skin. Deep breaths, deep breaths.

“Listen—”

“If you would like, I can ask Miss Posibelf to move you to a class with the first years? Maybe all you need is some basic review to fix your faulty magic.”

To hell with measured breathing. 

I turned to him and snarled. “Shut up.” 

“Then cast the spell.” 

“Fine!” 

I pushed my sleeves up and glared at the marble remains, pressing my lips together as Baz let out a half scoff/half laugh and leaned back in his chair, not even bothering to look at me. It didn’t matter, I was just trying to remember that goddamn spell. 

Fuck, what was it? Past to the… Back from the… Oh!

“Back to the Future!” 

I had just enough time to hear Baz scream before a bright flash blinded me, immediately sending a massive wave of pain straight through my head, making everything overwhelmingly and contrastingly dark behind my closed eyelids.

“—the wrong spell!”

________

I honestly didn’t even notice the change at first. The low battery notification popped up on my screen, so I just swiped it away and held a hand out to my right. 

“Darling, could you pass my charger?” 

Instead of the expected "of course, love”, I was met with loud silence. I looked up, then startled and turned my head to the right, where a… much younger Penny sat just a few feet away. In a familiar classroom. 

Why the fuck am I at Watford?

“Excuse me?” She asked, voice slightly hoarse. I just blinked.

“...You’re not my husband.” Someone choked somewhere behind me, but I kept my eyes firmly set on Young-Penny.

“I most certainly am not.” 

I snorted out a laugh and was about to respond when a very familiar voice with an uncomfortable amount of nostalgia interrupted me. 

“Husband?!” I held back a laugh and turned in my seat to face Baz. Not my Baz, just a younger, more bitter version of him that hasn’t been softened by my “stupidly charming disposition” yet. 

“Yes, husband.” I flipped around again to face Young-Penny, leaving Young-Baz reeling. “Hey Pen, what color was your hair six years ago?” 

She blinked, before turning her eyes to the ceiling as she went through the mental math.

“...Red, why?”

I grinned, resting my cheek on my hand. “No reason, just curious. This is seventh year, right?”

“Yes? How old are you?” She looked down and muttered to herself before I could respond, “God, that’s a weird sentence.”

 I laughed, then laughed harder when Young-Gareth leaned in towards her to whisper his own (definitely unwanted, judging by the look she gave him) opinion.

“It’s really not” She glared at him, pushing her curls out of her face and responding just as quietly. 

“ He’s my best friend. Context, Gareth. Pay attention.”

“I’m twenty-seven.”

“Merlin, you’re old.” 

“Shut up, Gareth.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, then turned back to Young-Baz when I felt his gaze on me. I wouldn’t be surprised if I had some sort of sixth-sense to know when Baz was looking at me by now.

Some things never changed, huh?

“What?” I asked, hiding my amused smile. He jerked back slightly, shaking his head as if to clear it. Nice try, but we both know only one of us has the Etch-A-Sketch brain.

“Hm?” His voice cracked, making him wince. I politely ignored it, because I’m nice. 

“You’re staring.” He immediately averted his eyes, looking extremely uncomfortable.

…I’m nice when I want to be.

“No, I am not.” 

He looked flustered. 

He probably wasn’t used to me actually calling him out when I caught him staring. Back then, I just assumed he was thinking up the best ways to take me down so I just growled or snarled and looked away before he could “get any ideas.” 

Which is comical, when in actuality he was mentally putting together Pinterest-ready mood boards for our completely hypothetical future wedding.

It’s cute, thinking back on it now. 

“Yes, you are. It’s okay, you do it a lot now–in my time, too.” His mouth fell open and I leaned on my hand, grinning up at him. Even now, he was still just barely taller than me. By only a half inch, at most. 

“I—” His mouth opened and closed a few times without any sound actually coming out. 

“It’s okay. You filled out all the paperwork, you can stare at me all you want.” I winked, then watched his eyes lose focus as what I could presume was all of the blood still in his body rushed up to his face, coloring it a very light pink. 

“What…?” Even his voice sounded distant, like he wasn’t quite aware of the words passing his lips. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my camera roll until I landed on my favorite picture from our wedding.

It was during the ceremony, right after we shared our first kiss as a married couple. I had pulled away first, taking a second to just stare at him (funny, the flipped roles now), to take him in, and we both looked completely (and accurately) gone for each other. Immediately after Agatha’s mum took the picture (not that we noticed), Baz pulled me in for another kiss, and if I concentrated hard enough, I could still feel his cool hands on the back of my neck, tugging me forward with an immeasurably happy smile. 

“Here, look,” I said, holding the phone out to Young-Baz. His eyes widened an almost-concerning amount before he blinked and stared blankly at the desk, where a pile of… dust? sat. 

“Simon, I think you broke him.” I snapped in front of his face a few times before looking over my shoulder to Penny, who was watching with a stare that somehow was a perfect mix of amusement and calculation. I lazily waved a dismissing hand.

“Nah, he’ll be fine in a minute.” She raised an eyebrow. 

“Speaking from experience?” 

“Only nine years.”

That got Baz’s attention. 

“Nine years?”

I laughed at the slight squeak in his voice. “Yes, nine years.” He just gaped at me, clearly struggling to comprehend that. I couldn’t blame him, not after what B—he, in the future, Merlin this is confusing, has told me. 

I couldn’t resist poking fun at him. If I were ten years younger, he never would have shown this much vulnerability so I got to get my fill while I can. 

I leaned forward, lowering my voice so only he could hear me.“Do you need your hearing checked? I would have thought the vampire powers helped a bit, but you know…” His gaze seemed to sharpen at the gibe, and he stuck his nose up at me, crossing his arms haughtily.

“My hearing is fine, thank you. And I’m not a—” His voice dropped to a hiss. “—that.” 

“Sure, love. And I don’t think goblins are fit.” 

Penny squawked. “You think goblins are fit?” I rolled my eyes.

“Yes, Merlin, you two. Aren’t you supposed to be the smart ones around here?”

“Simon, how is this even possible?” Penny plowed right over my question, squinting at my form like it would shrink down to her Simon. I shrugged, then felt the corners of my lips twitch upwards when I saw the familiar movement take some tension away from her posture. 

“I mean, based on, well, knowing me, I’d say it’s safe to assume I fucked up a spell and now I’m stuck in the past. Ten years, specifically.” She frowned, interlocking her fingers in front of her and pressing her forefingers to her lips. 

“How—” 

“What spell did I use?” I interrupted. She blinked. 

“Back—” She paused, cleared her throat, then carefully said the words without any magic. “Back to the Future.” I sighed, falling back against the uncomfortable chair.

“Ah. That’ll explain it.” 

I jumped up, realizing something. “Oh shit.” 

“What?” 

“If I’m here,” I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the curls. “Shit.” 

He’s gonna end me when I get back. I’m dead. I am a dead, soon-to-be-divorced man. Baz is going to leave me, then make me leave this planet. 

“What?” 

“17 year old me is currently in the future. Oh fuck, Baz is gonna kill me.” I whipped around. “Not you—”

“Oh.” Young-Baz’s voice was near silent as he was clearly still reeling. I pressed my lips together and nervously glanced towards my phone, still sitting on the desk with the wedding photo pulled up. 

Almost on cue, it lit up with Baz’s contact photo (one of us passed out on the couch. Penny took it while we were asleep and sent it to me before Baz could delete it) and started vibrating. 

Shit. 

Very, very slowly, I reached forward and picked up the device, bringing it up to my ear as I swiped to accept. 

“Hel—”

“Care to explain why–AGH! SIMON, I’M NOT TRYING TO FUCKING KILL YOU, PUT THE PAN DOWN–what looks to be adolescent you is destroying our kitchen?” I winced, not wanting to imagine what else teenage me had done to our home. 

“...Would you believe me if I said it was worse here?”

“No.” I could practically feel the deadpan, unamused energy through the phone. 

“Fair enough.” 

“Just–” He shouted more through the phone, clearly struggling with something.“Just fix it.” A door slammed, then Baz’s voice rang out loudly through the speaker, “AND DON’T COME OUT UNTIL YOU STOP THROWING THINGS.” 

He sighed heavily, then it sounded like he was walking away from wherever he trapped gremlin me.  He muttered some words that were not classroom-appropriate before something started rustling in the background.

“THAT’S PENELOPE’S ROOM, YOU DEAL WITH HER WHEN YOU BREAK HER SHIT.” 

The rustling stopped immediately, making Young-Penny’s offended scoff easily-heard. I barely heard her mutter “he put him in my room?” before Baz was talking again. 

“That’s what I thought. Anyways, explain what’s happening. You interrupted our night in.” 

I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly, “Sorry, darling. I swear, I didn’t even do anything this time. Well, technically past me did something, but if I had the power I totally wouldn’t have.”

I could practically hear Baz’s eye roll, but Penny was the one who spoke next. 

“We live together?” I glanced back at her. 

“No, but you’re visiting from the states, so we have all of your stuff in the spare room.”

 Baz, clearly overhearing the conversation, jumped in. “Yeah, and Shep’s. I’m just glad they’re both out tonight.” The last part was grumbled, which made me laugh. 

“Who’s Shep?” Oh, right. Haven’t met yet. This is weird.

“Shut up. Tell me how we can fix this.” I winced at Baz’s bluntness. 

“Um. About that.” 

“Simon...” The warning in his voice was clear, not that I could do anything about it.

“I know, I know. The spell is Back to the Future, so technically I should be able to come back easily, right?” He scoffed. 

“Easy? Try again.”

“Um,” Penny started, then stopped uncertainly.

“Yeah?” 

“How do you reverse the spell?” I didn’t even have a second to consider answering before Baz was speaking.

“This idiot,” he started, clearly aimed towards me. 

“ Hey!”

“–has to somehow get his past self to cast the spell again. In theory, it’s a simple fix. But in practice…”

“Oh come on, I can’t be that bad.” 

It was too easy to picture him right now, leaning against our kitchen counter with the phone resting between his shoulder and ear and his arms crossed. “Of course, you could never be that bad.”

I opened my mouth to say something (laugh? apologize? who knows) but was interrupted by what was clearly shattering glass coming from somewhere on Baz’s end. 

“THAT BETTER NOT HAVE BEEN BUNCE’S CRYSTAL BALL.”

Silence, then, “... Shit.”

“You broke my CRYSTAL BALL?!” That was Young-Penny, but the utter disbelief and lividness on her face nearly gave me chills. I smiled nervously at her. 

“Sorry.”

Baz huffed. “Past me would never behave like this. Send me him next time.” I let out an offended sound. 

“Hey! How do you know he’s not losing his shit right now?”

Baz paused, then continued in a deadpan voice. “What’s he doing?”

“Rebooting.” I said dismissively, glancing over at his still form to make sure he was still actually breathing. 

“Of course. Show me.” My phone dinged, then the notification that Baz wanted to connect through video appeared. I accepted, but kept the camera on my own face. 

“Wait, wait. Let's try to get me to cast the spell. You’ll be fine, I just want to go home before my cake goes bad.” I almost wished I didn’t accept the video, because it meant I had to watch Baz’s face drop into an irritated scowl.

“It’s a little late for that.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You destroyed it.” 

I gaped, staring at him with wide eyes. He was staring off at something over the camera, something I sincerely hoped was my intact cake batter. 

“I most certainly did not.”

“You did, actually. It’s all over the walls.” He smirked scornfully.

“Baz. What the bloody fuck are you talking about?”

He flashed an amused smile towards the camera. “Do you need your hearing checked?” Penny and Baz both choked at that, making me laugh before turning to my Baz.

“I didn’t ruin that cake.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Not you you.” A loud bang echoed through the speaker, clearly the sound of a body running into the door. “That you.”

I groaned, setting my phone on the table to run my hands down my face in agony. “That batter took three hours to prepare!”

“You should have told the younger you that.”

“You’re an arsehole.”

“And you love it. I’m giving younger you the phone because I don’t want to deal with this, okay? Don’t fuck it up.” I scoffed.

“I’m offended you automatically assume I’d make this worse.”

“Do you really blame me?” He raised an eyebrow as he made his way down the hallway towards the guest room.

“That’s so sad.” I sighed, then picked the phone back up so my face was visible. “Give the younger me the phone.” Baz sighed, then slid it under the door. I squinted at the screen, waiting for Young-Me to pick it up. 

He did, but he clearly wasn’t paying attention to the actual call. 

“Hey, you. Me. Whatever. You cast a spell that brought you to the future and now I’m stuck in the past until you cast—and you hung up on me, okay.” 

We sat in silence, staring at my screen as it lit up with my lock screen (a picture of Penny, Baz and I all with whipped-cream mustaches at a table in my bakery) (it’s one of my favorites).

“Now what?” I squeaked when Penny’s voice sounded from directly behind me, jumping in my chair.

“You scared me!” She shrugged unapologetically, leaning heavily against the back of the chair. I sighed and shook my head, turning back to my phone screen. “I guess we try to call Baz through the computer.”

“You can do that?” I nodded, pulling up the proper app. 

“Yeah. Future’s wack.”

We wait a few seconds for Baz to notice the incoming call on his laptop (which should have been sitting open on the couch if he didn’t move it since I vanished) in tense silence. 

A few seconds passed before a clicking sound was heard, then the call was connected and we met Baz’s worried and confused face.

“Simon? What happened?” I pressed my lips together and exhaled heavily through my nose before responding.

“I hung up on myself.” Baz looked like he wanted to laugh, but before he could, Young-Me’s muffled voice passed through the bedroom door. 

“–Mr. Wellbelove…” 

Baz’s eyes widened comically before he was scrambling to reverse the locking spells on the door, throwing it open and rushing into the room in a frantic panic. 

He threw the computer on the bed haphazardly (luckily, the camera happened to land in a way that gave us a decent view of them both) before rushing over to where Young-Me was standing off to the side, phone held up to my ear with a determined expression.

“Oh, FUCK NO—” 

“Oh my god.” 

I tried not to laugh, because really, it wasn’t funny, but watching Baz try to pry his own phone out of my hands before I could somehow convince Agatha’s dad that I was kidnapped by my husband was honestly one of the most ridiculous situations I’ve ever been in. 

And that’s saying a lot.

“SIMON YOU DID NOT JUST CALL—STOP SCREAMING—GIVE ME THE PHONE.” Baz finally managed to get the phone, immediately raising it up to his ear and putting on a fake, charming smile as he fought off teen me while I tried to take it from him again. 

“Mr. Wellbelove! A pleasure, as always. But I’m afraid you’ve rung at a poor time.” He gritted his teeth as Young-Me nearly grabbed his hair but continued with barely any audible sign of distress. 

“I apologize, I”m going to have to resume this lovely conversation at a later date if you wouldn’t mind.” He pressed his palm into my forehead, keeping me an arm's length away from him. I looked over at Young-Baz, who was watching the screen with a far-away expression.

What a mess.

“So sorry, have a lovely night.” He hung up, then shoved the phone right down his shirt and gave Young-Me the most tired yet infuriated look I’ve ever seen. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he reached out to strangle the kid. He looked like he really wanted to.

I rubbed my neck uncomfortably.

“I SWEAR ON MERLIN’S FUCKING BALLS YOU WERE BORN WITHOUT ANY BRAINCELLS.”

“Well that’s not very nice,” I muttered to myself. Baz turned to the computer, chest heaving as he raised a shaking hand towards the camera. 

“NOT. A WORD. OUT OF YOU.” 

“I’m just saying.” 

Young-Me saw this as a distraction and made a break for the door, but Baz had his wand in hand before he even crossed the room. 

“DOWN BOY. STAY.”

It was slightly comical—if not a little humiliating—to watch me drop to the floor like a puppet with cut strings. 

“Did—Did you just spell me to the floor?” Baz glared at the laptop, then at Young-Me, then back at the laptop. 

“You deserve it.” He straightened his back and smoothed out his clothes and hair before shaking his head and sitting on the bed, pulling the computer onto his lap. “Now, where were we?” 

“Little You is still rebooting.”

He hummed. “Don’t call him Little Me. Give me the phone.”

I laughed and angled the camera towards Young-Baz, who was still just staring into space as all of this went down. 

“Hey,” Baz snapped a few times at the camera, trying to get Young-Baz’s attention. “Hey you. Snap out of it.” Young-Baz blinked a few times, awareness slowly returning to his eyes. “Yeah, that’s right, there you go.” 

“Wh…” His voice seemed to cut out there. Baz sighed wearily, like he does before he says something he knows I’m going to tease him about, then looks directly into Young-Baz’s eyes. 

“Look at me.” Young-Baz sat up straighter, looking a lot more present, if not completely lost. “Listen, it’s not as hopeless as you think. Everything turns out so much better than we ever planned, okay?” 

Young-Baz appeared to have difficulties processing this. Meanwhile, I was busy giving the phone my best shit-eating smile. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’re married to Simon Snow, and he loves us back, and he’s just as sweet and idiotic as ever but now it’s domestic and fun instead of unattainable and obnoxious. One day, you’ll forget what pining even feels like.” 

Baz looked awkward and uncomfortable and I wanted nothing more than to go back to my time and kiss him. 

“Oh.” Young-Baz processed the words, the fogginess not quite returning, but definitely still impacting his ability to think clearly. “That sounds nice.”

Aw.

And now I’m regretting our Wizard of Oz couples costume from two years ago. He called dibs on Tin-Man because he was “heartless and made of steel.” 

(“And yes, Snow, I know he’s made of tin but it’s the aesthetic I’m talking about.”)

Of course, I chose scarecrow because I thought the costume would be fun, and Baz said it was ironic since I’m “a stupid little idiot without a single thought ever.” Not entirely wrong, but it still would have stung if it were anyone else.

(Shep convinced Penny to dress up, and they went as Dorothy and the Lion to match us. Adorable.)

But even someone without a brain could see the way Young-Baz’s face softened and filled with obvious hope as he looked at himself, probably taking in the genuine happiness on older-him’s face. 

Heartless my ass. 

“I don’t know whether or not to be flattered.”

Baz sniffed, avoiding looking at the camera. “Shut up, Snow.”

“No, no keep going. This is really cute.”

“This conversation is over.” I chose to ignore the finality in his voice. 

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.” And the warning tone. 

“Baaaaaaaaaaz.” 

“I will call Fiona.” Shit, abort.

“This conversation is over.”

He smirked. “Got you. Why are you even afraid of her? She loves you.”

I nodded eagerly. “Yeah, and it’s my greatest, most proud accomplishment to date. I’d like to stay in her good graces.” 

Baz raised an eyebrow. 

“You sacrificed your magic to defeat the Humdrum at 18 years old and that’s your greatest accomplishment?”

“Yes!” I leaned closer to the phone. 

“Fiona doesn’t love anybody, just mildly tolerates their personality on occasion.” 

Young-Baz and I both looked at each other. Unknowingly, we had said the exact same thing at the exact same time. 

“Woah. See that Baz? That’s some creepy shit.”

“Congrats, Snow. You officially have the mentality of me at the age of…” He paused, then turned to give Young-Him a scrutinizing look. “What would you say your odds are with Snow right now? Like, before the spell went wrong.”

“I’d have better luck catching feelings for Wellbelove.”

“Seventeen. You’ve reached seventeen by twenty seven. I hope you’re proud.” 

I gaped, looking between both of them. “How did you—”

“Seventeen was when I started plotting to marry Wellbelove and make her have children with some other man while I spent the rest of my life breaking the hearts of people who looked like you.”

I blinked, then leaned closer to the screen. “Excuse me?” 

He waved a hand in dismissal. “I’m disturbed, ask anyone. Anyways—”

“No, you don’t get to just breeze past that—”

A loud grunt sounded from behind the camera as Young-me tried to dislodge himself from Baz’s spell’s hold. Baz pulled out his wand with a bored expression and pointed it at me. Him. Whatever.

“Not a Word Out of You!” 

I snorted. “Did you just spell younger me quiet?”

“Yes.” He watched the younger me for a second before shaking his head, a barely noticeable smile pulling at his lips. “It’s quite funny, he just keeps screaming, silently.” 

I huffed, crossing my arms. 

“Okay. So how are we getting me back?” 

He hummed, tapping his chin with the tip of his wand. “Should we call Penelope?”

“Probably not. I don’t want a lecture.” I shivered, then jumped when Young-Penny smacked my shoulder.

“Hey!”

I rolled my eyes. “You know you would.”

“...Okay fine.”

“Let’s just. Think.” Baz frowned at the screen for a second. “Okay, I’m going to try to talk to him.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You sure?”

“You doubting me?”

“Never.”

He smiled, then looked past the screen to Young-Me. “Hey. I’m going to take the silencing spell off of you, and you’re going to listen. Got it?” I assumed Young-Me agreed, because Baz nodded. “Good.”

Then he immediately turned the computer around.

“Here, you talk to him.” 

Wow.

“I—Fine.” I blinked, then cleared my throat. “Uh. Hi, me. You. Us?”

“Snow.”

“Sorry.”

Young-Me frowned at the screen, squinting up to see better. 

Poor, stupid seventeen year old me, thinking everything was blurry as a result of my magic being a mess. Once we graduated, Baz had decided enough was enough and got me a pair of fancy glasses to help my fucked eyesight. 

I pushed them up now, hiding a smile when Young-Baz tracked the movement a little too closely. 

“What’s going on? Where am I?” 

I sighed. “You’re in our flat. That’s the future for you.” He frowned.

“Our?” 

“Me and Baz,” I clarified.

“Baz and I~” Baz sang from behind the laptop, making me huff.

“Shut up, close enough.”

Young-Me crossed his arms and glared past the screen to Baz. “We do not still live with Baz.” I smiled amusedly.

“We marry him, actually.”

His face dropped in horror. “No.” 

I laughed lightly, eyes trailing off to the side of the room where the rest of the class was watching in complete silence. 

“Yeah… It’s a whole thing. Give it a year.” Young-Me looked so confused, but he just shook his head. 

“What—Fine. How do I get back?”

Baz groaned dramatically. “Finally.” He clapped his hands together, then shifted on the bed. “Cast the spell you used to get here and it should bring you back.” 

Young-Me raised his eyebrows in suspicion. “That’s it?”

I shrugged. “Yep. But most of this will probably feel like a very distant dream, if you remember any of it at all. Magic’s weird like that.” Baz nodded.

“This, of course, applies to anyone who has taken part or overheard any part of this conversation besides the older Simon and I now, since we’ve already lived through it and have those memories confirmed to be true.” 

Penny frowned down at me, adjusting her glasses.

“Wait, so… Up until this point you believed this entire conversation was a dream?” 

“Yeah. I’ve been getting weird deja vu this whole time. It’s trippy, but you’ll understand that firsthand in ten years.”

Baz turned the camera back to himself as Penny rubbed her temples. “I’m getting a headache.”

“Tell me about it.”

I shared a fake look of excitement that was not at all reciprocated with Young-Me.

“Aww, they’re bonding!” 

“Shut up, Snow. You’re ruining it.” 

“I’m just a sentimental person.”

“I know, love.” 

“I can’t help but get emotional when the love of my life is getting along with my best friend.” 

“I know, love.”

“I feel like you’re just repeating yourself to get me to stop talking.”

“I know—”

“OKAY WE GET IT.” Penny groaned, glaring at me. “Crowley, is this my future?”

I waved a hand at her. “Nah, we move out after about three? Four years? Of sharing a flat.”

“Three.” Baz confirmed. I furrowed my eyebrows. 

“Only three? Feels longer.”

“I know. Longest three years of my life, and I didn’t even live there in the beginning.” Penny gasped and I quickly stepped in.

“Anywho, let’s get that spell done, yeah?  I have a cake to rebake.”

“Sorry about that,” Young-Me said, looking only a little apologetic. I shook my head. 

“It’s fine. I’m just being dramatic.”

“What else is new?” Baz muttered, making me scoff.

“Oh, like you can talk.”

He didn’t even bother giving me a response, just looked over to Young-Me with a bored wave. 

“Simon, cast the spell.”

“Mhm. That's what I thought.”

“The spell.” His face softened and I ached to be back home with him. A few seconds. 

“You can do it.”

“Okay. Uh… Back to the Future!” 

________

A bright flash made me shield my eyes with my arm. I stumbled a bit, suddenly dizzy, and fell into a pair of very familiar arms. 

“You all right, love?” 

I sighed contentedly, leaning into Baz’s chest. My forehead pressed against his collarbone and I hummed as his hand ran steady circles along my back.

“Perfect. Just give me a second.” I waited a few seconds until the floor stopped swaying under me before backing away. “Okay, I’m okay.”

“Lovely. Now you can go clean up your mess.” I whined, not wanting to even think about that ruined batter. 

“You’re so mean to me.”

“You ruined date night.” I glared at him for a solid seven seconds, barely managing to hold up against his disapproving stare even after all these years. His eyebrow slowly started to rise and I nearly instantly caved, growling and turning towards the kitchen.

“Touche.” I could practically feel his amused smile. 

“Get cleaning. I’ll pull up the movie.” 

I sighed again, rolling my shoulders as I put my now-empty bowl in the sink with a grimace.

“Sounds nice. I could use a little rewinding after all of this.” 

Even through the wall separating the kitchen from the living room, I could hear the smug tone in his voice. 

“Mop’s in the cupboard,” he called out. 

“Evil prat,” I shouted back, putting a whisk in with the bowl.

“Dumbass.” 

I laughed to myself, even as I got a towel out to wipe the batter off of the walls.

One day, those two teenagers are going to be so happy.

Chapter Text

We were curled up on the couch late into the night when Simon turned and lightly nudged his nose against my jaw to get my attention.

“Was I really that bad?” I scoffed, even as I leaned into his touch. 

“Yes. Absolutely.” 

He huffed out a laugh, giving me chills from his breath against my skin. 

“Tell me about it.” 

________

“Are you going to put the phone down and enjoy this movie—that you chose, mind you—or are we just going to pretend you haven’t been checking your texts every four seconds?”

Simon put his phone face-down on the counter with a sheepish smile, meeting my eyes across the kitchen. I leaned against the door frame with a fake pout, then smiled and walked forward, wrapping my arms around his waist. 

“Talk to me.” He sighed.

“Sorry, love. I know it’s stupid. It’s just—”

“—The first time you’ve let Kate close the bakery alone, I know. She’s going to do great, and she’ll call if she needs anything.” I reached behind him and plucked the phone from the counter, putting it in my back pocket. “Now finish this movie with me.” 

He laughed. “You’re right, sorry. It’ll be fine.” 

I took his hands, pulling him towards the living room. 

“It will.”

“The bakery is fine.”

“It is.”

I gently led him to the couch and pushed him down, then sat next to him and rested my head on his shoulder with a sigh.

He lasted all but seven minutes, until his phone buzzed in my pocket.

Before I even had a chance to blink, he had the phone in his hand. 

“Simon,” I groaned, exasperated. His head snapped up but his eyes didn’t leave his screen. I cleared my throat pointedly, then reached forward to tip the top of the screen down when he didn’t respond.

“Huh, what?” I shook my head with a small smile. He blinked a few times, then gave me a sheepish look. 

“Sorry.” 

“A little on edge?” I asked sardonically, smirking when he laughed nervously. 

“A little.” 

“Here,” I gently pressed against his back, a silent request for him to move forward. He scooted to the edge of the couch, letting me slide in behind him and scratch lightly through his shirt. 

“Hm,” he sighed, leaning into my touch. “Thanks.” I hummed, tipping my head forward to press a quick kiss to his neck. 

“Of course. Now, we are going to breathe, and power off, yes?” He gave a hum that sounded much less convincing than I think he meant and hugged his phone to his chest. 

“But what if something happens? Or she needs help? Or—”

“Or, you drive your very kind and generous and loving husband insane and he never has a relaxing night in with you again?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed, laughing lightly. “Or that. I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know why I’m freaking out so much.” 

“You worry about her.” 

And he did. Simon always has taken a liking to the strays, no doubt a result of growing up in the homes, and Kate was an unsuspecting victim of this phenomena when she applied for a job at his bakery.

“I do.” 

“You also care about the structurally intact-ness of the building.” 

He huffed out a laugh. “I definitely do.” 

“But nothing is going to happen, right?” He stayed silent, so I leaned around him, raising an eyebrow when I saw him staring at the phone with his lips pressed into a tight line.

“Right?” 

“...Right.”

“Love the confidence,” I deadpanned. He gave me a worried look. 

“What if she’s panicking right now, but doesn’t want to get in trouble and isn’t calling?” 

I groaned loudly, pressing my hands into his shoulders and pushing myself off of the couch, climbing around him. Then I dropped to my knees next to him on the floor, slowly reached up to where his hands were still pressing his phone to his chest, and took the device. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, biting a nail. I absently pulled his hand away from his mouth as I scrolled through his contacts, opening Kate’s and pressing the call button. 

I held the phone up to my ear and watched Simon’s eyes go wide in realization. 

“Baz,” he hissed, reaching for the phone. “Baz, no—”

“Kate, hi.” I gave Simon a sweet smile, leaning forward to press a very light kiss to his pouting lips. 

“Baz?” She sounded fine. 

“Yep, it’s me. How’s everything going at the bakery?” I took the time to put the phone on speaker, just in time for Simon to hear her response. 

“Oh, it’s great! Not too busy, considering the hour, but I got all of the cupcakes for that party order tomorrow done early and I just need to finish cleaning up. Why? How’s date night?” 

I gave Simon a sly smirk, especially when I saw his red cheeks. 

“Oh, it’s lovely. We were just about to start a movie and wanted to check in. But as long as everything is all right…?” 

“Oh, yeah! It’s all fine here! You two should have some fun. Simon works too hard and worries too much.” I smiled at him, flicking his nose. 

“I agree. I’ll let you get back to it, okay?”

“Yep! Have a nice night!” 

“You too.” 

I hung up, then dropped the phone in Simon’s lap. 

“See? Nothing to worry about.” He sighed, resting his chin in his hand as he looked down at me. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I smiled, taking his free hand and kissing his knuckles lightly. 

“Nothing to apologize for. I have a better idea, since I know there’s no way in hell you’re actually going to be completely relaxed until you know she’s locked up.” He gave me a questioning look but I just stood, walking to the bedroom to grab my laptop. 

“What’re you doing?” he called from the living room, eyebrows furrowed when I came back. I sat down next to him and opened up an assignment I was working on earlier that night. 

“Working.” I glanced over to see his incredulous and confused face. “The bakery gets locked up in thirty minutes. At that thirty minute mark when we get her text, we turn all devices off and finish the goddamn movie, got it?” 

Simon beamed, crawling over to me and clumsily kissing my cheek as he fell into my side. 

“I love you so much.” I gave him a wry smirk before going back to my work. 

“I know.” 

He hummed happily, opening his phone. He was working on an original recipe, which was why he had just spent two and a half hours trial-and-erroring his way through creating a batter that was edible for a wedding order in a few days. 

I finally managed to convince him to take a break, and he agreed since the batter apparently needed to settle. I tended to just nod and agree when he talked about baking. Not that I was completely inept in the kitchen, but compared to the literal bakery owner I married, it wasn’t much of a competition.

I lost myself in my latest project, only looking up once when Simon asked for my opinion on frosting colours. 

“Your phone’s about to die,” I told him after giving my answer. He pushed his glasses up and hummed.

(Oh, did I make the right choice convincing him to get those. Complete side-note, but he looks stunning, especially since I picked out a style that accented the best parts of his face.) (and he’s not squinting everywhere now, which is also good too I guess. He said the headaches were killer).

“I still have thirteen percent. I’ll be fine for now.” 

I gave him a skeptical look but left it alone, knowing he’d most likely ask for his charger when he got the ten percent notification. 

A few more minutes passed quietly before something flashed in my eyes, blinding me. 

“What the…” I gasped as the spots faded, revealing Simon. Not my Simon, but rather one about a decade too young. He leaped to his feet, spinning around and jerking back when he saw me staring at him. 

“BAZ!” He screamed, then his face dropped into a snarl. It was honestly sort of adorable. “What the hell did you do?” 

I put my hands up, slowly rising to my feet. 

“I didn’t do anything. You’re the one in my flat right now.” He blinked and looked around, like he didn’t even notice that he wasn’t at the school. 

“How? What’s going on? Where am I? Why am I not at Watford? Why are you older and more—” 

He cut himself off (shame, I wanted to hear that last one) and took a few steps away from me. 

“I’m stuck in a flat with an evil vampire in the future,” he muttered to himself as he glared at me. It took all of my self control to keep a relatively straight face. 

“Simon—”

He flinched, then squinted at me. “Why’d you call me that?” 

Oh, right. The name thing. 

“Because you’re my husband, and now we share a last name so it doesn’t make too much sense to call you Snow?” 

Let me tell you, that was not the right answer. 

“You’re lying,” he said, his face filled with absolute horror. “You’re lying. There’s—There’s no way I would—”

“Careful, you’ll hurt yourself.” I raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer. He took a few back, now almost in the kitchen. 

“STAY BACK! OR I’LL…” He looked around him, then grabbed a whisk from the bowl of batter on the kitchen counter, flinging the mixture around in his hurry.

“Whisk me into oblivion? I’m shaking in my socks.” He scowled, throwing the whisk back towards the bowl. 

It missed the lip, hitting it hard enough to send it flying towards the floor.

“No!” I screamed, rushing forward. Simon backed even further into the kitchen, probably thinking I was trying to come at him. 

Okay, not nearly as adorable and funny now. 

I held my hands out and tried to catch the bowl, but it had already hit the ground. Vampire speed is fucking useless when it comes to saving a bowl of batter (and your husband’s sanity, in association), apparently.

“God dammit.” I glared up at Simon from where I was kneeling on the ground by the bowl. He watched me with wary confusion, hands gripping the counter behind him. “You had to go for the one fucking thing in the kitchen we couldn’t just replace?” 

“What are you planning?” He asked, completely ignoring my own question. 

“I’m planning on getting you back to your own timeline and praying the older you doesn’t kill me for letting anything happen to his precious cake batter.”

“You’re making no sense.” I groaned, pulling at my hair in frustration. 

How the fuck did younger me actually fall in love with this idiot?

“I won’t fall for your mind games!” 

I rolled my eyes, ignoring him in favor of standing and pulling my phone out of my pocket. I pulled up my Simon’s contact, just to see if it would work since his phone wasn’t on the couch when this shitshow started.

It took a few moments for him to pick up, but the call surprisingly went through. 

“Hel—”

“Care to explain,” I started, glaring down at the upturned bowl, “why—AGH!” I flinched back and fully left the kitchen when the younger Simon swung a pan at my head, sending an entire batch of iced sugar cookies Simon finished earlier that night at the wall. 

“SIMON, I’M NOT TRYING TO FUCKING KILL YOU, PUT THE PAN DOWN–” I forced myself to take a deep breath, valiantly blocking out the crashing sounds coming from the kitchen, “what looks to be adolescent you is destroying our kitchen?”

________

“And you know the rest.” 

Simon was quiet for a second. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh” 

He yawned and started laughing quietly, then louder, tilting his head up to look at me. 

“Did I really try to hit you with a pan?” I slowly squinted at him dangerously.

“You did.” 

He pressed his lips together like he was trying not to laugh harder.

“Sorry, love.” 

“That’s funny, because I’m feeling very little remorse coming from you right now.” 

That somehow set him off, and he leaned heavily into my side as he cackled. I gave him my most deadpan stare and stood. He just rolled onto the couch where I vacated, still wheezing. 

“I’m going to bed and locking you out. You can sleep there tonight,” I said, crossing my arms and walking towards our room. He instantly stopped laughing and whined. 

“Nooooo, Baz. Please, love. Darling. Baby. Light of my life.” 

I peeked over my shoulder with a smirk and saw him reaching with grabby hands over the back of the couch. 

“Should have thought about that before attacking me with one of the most deadly kitchen appliances.”

“Oh come on, the pan didn’t even hit you!” 

“I was talking about the whisk.”

“That didn’t hit you either!” 

I laughed to myself as his frantic footsteps scrambled down the hall.

“Baz, please!” 

The door was left unlocked.