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My Baz

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I didn't notice it at first. Or at least I didn't see when I first started saying it.

"Sweetheart," just slipped out so easily when talking to Baz.

Of all the places to notice it, I first realized it during lunch one day.

"Pass me the salt, Sweetheart,"

When the salt shaker didn't instantly appear in front of me, I looked up in time to see a slightly pink-cheeked Baz reaching for the salt. Without his magic.

Now, I'm not the smartest person in the room, so instead of jumping to conclusions, I test it again.

"Thanks, Sweetheart,"

And there it is. Baz freezes just for a second and then ducks his head, a soft blush spreading on his cheeks.

Huh. Interesting.

This needs further investigation.


Baz is sitting on the sofa, bathed in the dim light of the lamp. His eyes seem to be glowing a little as he reads his book in the practical dark with his vampire eyesight. His long hair frames his sharp features and makes him look like something out of a fairytale.

"Hello, Gorgeous," I say, the name rolling off my tongue naturally. He is, after all, one of the most gorgeous people I have ever laid eyes on.

Baz looks up, and even in the dim light, I can tell he's smiling widely.

"Why thank you, Snow," he says, pulling me close to him and laying us together on the sofa, "You're not so bad yourself,"


"Morning, Beautiful,"

And there it is again, that broad smile on his face. It makes him look like he just won the lottery.

"Good Morning to you too," he says, voice cheery, and his hug is a little tighter than most morning. Not that I mind. Hugging Baz is always fantastic.

It's especially wonderful when he's feeling giddy from being called physically appealing.

Who knew Baz liked that kind of thing.

I'll have to keep that in mind.


"Hey, babe," I tell him as I sit down in front of him for our coffee date

Baz instantly wrinkles his nose, "I'm not a baby, Snow,"

"Yeah, I know. It's just a nickname, Baz,"

"Well, I don't like it," He says, shrugging, "I already ordered your favourite by the way. It should be here soon,"

I open my mouth to say something, but Baz cuts me off.

"And yes," he says with his trademark smirk, "I ordered the sour cherry scones too,"

I smile at him, "Thanks, Sweetheart,"

Aaaand there's the blush again.

My boyfriend is adorable.


We're sitting on the couch in front of the TV. There's some romantic comedy playing, but neither of us is paying attention.

"Tell me how much you care for me,"

He doesn't use the word love. We're not there yet, but I can tell how much he needs this.

"You mean the world to me, Baz. Being in your arms feels like home, being close to you feels like flying and if it's up to me we'll be by each other's sides for a long, long time,"

I lean down and brush my lips over his, "You're my world Baz,"

He smiled up at me, and his eyes are a little wet, "Thank you, Snow,"

"Any time, My Heart,"

And oh, Baz melts. His eyes go soft, and he sinks further into my arms, letting loose a long breath.

"My Heart," I whisper again, and this time, he whines into my chest, cuddling closer.

I spend the rest of the evening whispering into his ear, about him much he means to me, ignoring the few sniffles he lets out.

Next time he's annoyed and stressed I wrap my arms around him call him 'My Heart,'

He melts again. All the tension drains out of him, and his face ends up in the crook of his neck.

'My Heart' becomes my favourite name for him.


"We're going to be late, Snow," Baz calls out, "Do you want a lecture from Fiona about punctuality?"

Yeah no. I don't

"Coming, Honey," I call back

"I'm not food, Snow,"

I grin, "It's just a pet name, cupcake,"

"I'm gonna throw something at you,"

"Snickerdoodle is out too, then?"

His jacket hits me in the back of my head.

"Shut up, Snow!"

"Sorry, Dearest,"

I'm rewarded with a chuckle and a kiss on the cheek.

When we're at dinner, I ask Baz, 'Please pass the vegetables, Dear,"

Daphne lets out a chuckle. Fiona full-on laughs and even Malcolm seems amused.

Baz looks like he's a second away from bursting into giggles, and I'm not sure what's so funny about the whole thing, but it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Afterwards, Malcolm makes a comment about 'the young old married couple,' and kinda get it.

It doesn't stop me from adding 'Dear' and 'Dearest' to my list of pet names for Baz.


"Dance with me, Snow,"

It's the Christmas Eve party at the Grimms' house. It's relatively small compared to their other ones. The couples, including Malcolm and Daphne, are swaying too some Christmas Jazz. The children are running around, and the atmosphere is comfy and homely.

So, I take Baz's hand and let him pull onto the dance floor.

"You look amazing, Darling," I tell him

His arm tightens around my waist, and he pulls me a little closer. Startled, I look up, right into Baz's darkened eyes.

I know that look. It's the look Baz gets right before he pulls me into the bedroom or before he goes on his knees in front of me or after I leave teeth marks on the inside of his thighs.

But right bow- It can't be because of...can it?

"Something wrong, Darling," This time, I let the 'r' roll on my tongue and make my smile small and secretive.

Sure enough, he bites his lips and his flow stutters just a little.

I spend the rest of the night torturing him.

Later, when he's spread underneath me, and his nails are digging into my back, I softly whisper 'darling' into his ear, making him arch up and beg for more.

'Darling' becomes my second favourite thing to call him. Right after 'my heart.'


Baz shifts and whimpers softly from where he's laying in my arms.

"Wake up, Baz," I say softly

He doesn't, and the whimpering only gets worse.

"Hush, Bazzy," I say, "It's okay. It's just a dream,"

It takes a few more minutes, but Baz finally wakes, shaking so badly that his teeth are chattering, and his hands can barely hold on to my shirt.

"I love you. I love you, Simon," he says hoarsely, "Please don't leave me. Please, Simon,"

My heart feels like its shattering into tiny pieces, cutting through my chest.

"Oh, sweetheart," I say, "It's okay. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever,"

"Promise?" he whispers, voice still broken and shattered

"Promise, My Love,"

He raises his head and winds his arms around me, looking at me like I just handed him everything.

"Say that again," he whispers

"My Love," I say, "My Love. My Love,"

Whenever I want to get Baz's attention, I call him 'Love' and he looks at me like I just gave him the world, like I am his world.

I let him know he's mine too.


Baz bites me, and it doesn't hurt, not really

I wake up hungry for something I can't identify, not until Baz puts the bag of blood in front of me.

Later, when we're curled up together, he asks if I regret it.

"Never, My Baz,"

Funny how, in the end, calling him "My Baz' is what makes him cry.