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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 5 years

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Chapter 10 of Can't Find My Way Home is posted!! The boys are getting closer to home. Read at Ao3.

Chapter 10

Simon

I’m not sure if it’s the pilot’s voice that wakes me or the subtle shifting of Baz’s position. Doesn’t matter. I blink my eyes a few times to clear the sleep and raise my head from his shoulder.

Fuck. I’ve drooled on Baz’s shirt.

Not a lot, mind you, but there’s still a small spot of it right below his collarbone.

He doesn’t seem to have noticed. Baz rolls his shoulders and rotates his neck to get the kinks out, and I’m completely mesmerized by the sight. He raises one eyebrow at me. “Do I have something on my face?”

I shake my head. My mouth is dry but I manage to mumble some words out. “No, I just can’t figure out how you can look so fucking perfect after sleeping on a plane.”

I like it when Baz smiles. I like everything about him, but I rarely saw him smile like this at Watford. Smirk or sneer, yes, but a genuine smile like the one he’s giving me now? Hardly.

I can’t help but grin back at him.

I poke at my drool stain on his shirt. “I seem to have mucked you up a bit, though.”

Baz glances down at it and then rolls his eyes at me. “Eternal mouth breather. Some things never change.”

I shake my head. “I must look a fright.”

He reaches out and pushes a curl off my forehead. “You are a mess, Simon. A glorious fucking catastrophe.” His smile is even wider and his cool fingertips trail down my face.

“And you like that?”

“I love it.”

“Why?”

Baz leans closer, hand cupping my face. “Because we match.”

His lips brush mine before I can respond. I’m distracted for the moment but when he pulls back I frown at him. “You’re the furthest thing from a mess, Baz. You’re bloody flawless. You always have been. Drove me stark raving mad, it did.”

It’s his turn to frown. “I’m not. Not in the slightest.”

“What, you expect me to believe it’s all been a front? No one’s that good at faking it, Baz.”

“Perhaps I am.”

His expression closes off and I’m kicking myself now. I know this about him. I know how he retreats when any sign of weakness is exposed. He just admitted something deeply personal to me, something important, and I fucked it up by answering that way.

I take his hand.

It takes a moment for his fingers to grip mine back. “Hey. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I sigh. I may as well keep going, now that I’ve put my foot in it. “You’ve just always been the epitome of perfection to me, Baz. I’m a walking disaster, always have been—you know that. But you . . . you made it all look so effortless—schoolwork, football, grace and refinement, brilliant banter, striking good looks. It made me . . . made me feel . . . well, quite stunningly inadequate, I suppose.”

His eyes blaze. The look Baz gives me is as fiery as any of our altercations at school. “No, Simon. You couldn’t be more wrong. You’re a brilliant cataclysm. A fucking supernova.” His fingers squeeze mine hard. I hold my breath at the intensity of his gaze. “You were the sun, and I was crashing into you. If I managed to get too close I’d be incinerated. But trying to stay out of your orbit left me so cold.” He’s so close I can see the blues and greens of his eyes clearly now. “I was always on the outside, looking in. Never good enough to be part of your inner circle. Never brave enough to be your friend.”

“But . . .” I falter. I have no idea what to say. It’s dislocating to hear him say such things. We’ve eased into this physical closeness in a matter of days but there is so much we don’t know, don’t understand, about each other.

I do understand one thing. And it’s not something he gets a say in. Because it’s how I feel, how I’ve always felt about him, even when he was a thorn in my side, an epic arsehole, my absolute nemesis.

My singular obsession.

“You’re fucking perfect to me, you twat. Always have been. You can think whatever stupid bloody thoughts you want, but you can’t change my mind on this.” My voice softens as I reach out to curl a wisp of his hair around my finger. “You could be a bloody train wreck, Baz Pitch, but you’d still leave me breathless.”

His gaze relaxes and he tilts his head. I let my fingers cup his jaw and he leans into my touch. “How do you do it, Simon? How do you always know exactly what to say that goes to the heart of me?”

I shrug. “I don’t think about it, I guess. I just say what I feel.”

His lips are on mine, and then he’s breathlessly snogging me into the seatback.

It takes a moment for him to come up for air. “I’m not as perfect as you think. But, Christ, what I’d give to live up to that ideal.”

I pull his face to mine. I want him to feel this kiss, this regard I have for him, the protective sense that overwhelms me when I hear him talk this way.

I don’t know this side of Baz. This uncertain, relentlessly negative, self-critical side. I don’t know what’s happened in the four years since we lived together. I don’t know if he’s always hidden this inside.

It hurts to think about it.

The pilot’s voice booms out again. We’re veering down for the landing. I pull away, briefly running my thumb along his cheek before I lean back in my seat. “We are not finished with this conversation.” I grip the armrest with my left hand and Baz’s hand with my right. “But I hate landings. And I can’t talk this through with you and keep calm about this bloody plane at the same time.”

A smile lights up his face. “I think I can help with that.” And then Baz leans over and starts to trace his lips up my neck.

It seems like no time before the wheels hit the tarmac and the plane taxis down the runway. I’ve had my eyes closed the whole time.

I open them to find Baz grinning at me. “Alright then, Simon?”

I swallow. “Pretty effective method you’ve got there.”

Baz

We’ve got a few hours to kill here in Reykjavik before our connection to London heads out. Simon may want to pick up that conversation where we left off but I’m a master of deflection and redirection.

It doesn’t work with this wanker though. He knows my tactics too well.

We’re seated in the First-Class Lounge again. Different airport, similar setup. Simon has demolished another shockingly large pile of food with a swiftness that is astonishing. It’s not as if the buffet is going to magically disappear any minute, but he’s been focused on shoveling the food down nonetheless. It’s been quite absorbing to watch.

But he’s finished eating now and fixing me with a penetrating stare. “Now, about that bollocks on the plane.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re referring to.”

“Yes, you do, you prat. You know exactly what I’m referring to. The hypercritical shite. That negativity.”

It is impossible to distract and divert a Sociology major who’s made a special study of this sort of thing. I’m internally cursing the discipline as a whole and Simon in specific. But he’s patient and he’s kind and I’m pathetically weak for him, so I find myself opening up far more than I ever intended.

It comes out. Bit by bit. My mother’s legacy. The way it’s loomed over me my whole life. The survivor’s guilt that eats at me. The fear of disappointing the one parent I have left. The numbing misery of day in, day out at a job that sucks the very life from me. The isolation I feel in New York.

The crippling self-doubt that I am never going to get it right. Not with work, not with my family, not with the life choices I make.

Not even with Simon. That bit I keep to myself.

He listens, taking it all in, encouraging me with a word or gesture, a touch that grounds me. He’s so fucking good at this. They definitely aren’t paying him enough at that care home.

I’m spent by the time I finish, certain that this, if nothing else, will cause him to write me off as a bad deal and disappear from my life as soon as we reach London.

Simon slides his arm around my waist instead and leans his head on my shoulder. “You were right. You’re as much of a fucking disaster as I am.”

I stiffen at his words but he only laughs. “Relax, you numpty. I happen to like disasters. They’re comforting and familiar. Especially brilliant ones, like you.”

I do relax against him. I don’t know when I’ve felt this at peace. Simon’s warm and comforting and nothing I’ve said has deterred him in the slightest.

This is all too fucking good to be true.

Simon

It’s heart-breaking to hear him. I’ll never let that on though. Baz’s got himself so tightly wound, trying to be everything for everyone, striving to reach expectations that are unrealistic, so much so that he’s ignoring the person who actually matters most—himself.

His father wouldn’t want him to put himself through this. I may not know his family well but his Aunt Fiona always doted on him—in a brusque, profanity-laden, bitterly sarcastic kind of way but you could see her heart was in the right place. Mostly.

They likely aren’t privy to any of this. There is no way they would let him burn himself out in New York like this, burden himself with an existence that stifles him so, if they knew.

I’m sure of it.

I just need to figure out how to get him to realize that and tell them when he’s home.

I’ve no idea how I’m going to manage that.

But I’m damn well going to try.

Baz

Our flight departs in less than an hour.

It’s a shorter one this time. We’ll be in London in just under three hours. I should be home in time for Christmas dinner.

I’ll be saying goodbye to Simon in three hours.

I don’t want to. Now that I’ve found him I don’t want to let him out of my sight. That’s mad, obviously. But I still can’t help wanting it.

I know I have his number in my mobile. I know I can call him, text him anytime. I can make plans to see him again before I go back to New York. I can Skype. There are a million things I can do to stay in touch and none of them seem enough at the moment.

There is one more thing I can do, something to put off saying goodbye for just a little bit longer. I’ve been thinking about it since before we left Ebb’s. I turned the idea around in my head the entire drive to Washington.

Simon’s alone for the holiday. He mentioned that the first night. All I have to do is ask him to come home with me for Christmas.

Thinking about it is the easy part. It’s the asking that’s a challenge.

I don’t quite know what I’ll do if he says no.

Simon

Baz is a stickler for punctuality. Always has been. Some things never change. We arrive at the gate early, no sign of a boarding queue yet. We could have stayed in the lounge a bit longer.

It’s nice, the lounge. This trip is likely the first and last time I’m going to travel in such luxury.

I spot a lavatory across from the gate. I bump Baz’s arm. “I’m going to the lav.”

“I’ll be expecting your cultural commentary on the local facilities on your return.” I know that sardonic tone but the grin that accompanies it is only now growing more familiar.

“Sod off.” I can hear Baz laughing as I walk away.

The lavatory actually looks like it came out of an IKEA catalog. I think IKEA’s Swedish actually but the effect is very much the same. Shiny white porcelain, posh looking fixtures. Each toilet’s got it’s own little counter and sink. It’s bigger than the entire bathroom in my current flat.

That’s not saying much. My flat’s tiny.

Fuck.

The toilet must have some electronic sensor thingy. It flushed as soon as I walked into the stall and I swear it’s flushed at least five times already. It’s unnerving, it is. I feel like I should apologize to someone for all the water it’s wasting.

The sink’s got this posh, artsy looking faucet. It looks like some modern minimalist sculpture of an aeroplane. That’s kind of cute for an airport. It must have electronic sensors too, because as soon as my hands get close to it a stream of warm water gushes out. Soap too.

Where the fuck are the hand towels? There’s nothing on the walls, no dispenser, no hand dryer. I flail about for a bit, even coming out of the stall to look at the main sink area. All the faucets there have the same design but I can’t for the life of me find anything to dry my hands.

I run them under the water one more time, to splash my face, thinking I’ll just have to wipe my hands on my jeans (points taken away for that inconvenience) when twin blasts of hot air shoot down from the side wings of the faucet.

Scares the fuck out of me, it does.

The sodding faucet has an integrated automated hand dryer. It would be cool if it didn’t take me so bloody long to figure it out.

And if it hadn’t made me jump. I’m glad I’m the only one in here. I must have looked like a complete knobhead. Thank the stars Baz didn’t come in with me. He’d be laughing his arse off.

He’s leaning against a pillar when I come out, tapping away at his mobile. “I can hold your satchel if you need to go.”

He tilts his head. “You’re not going to give me the rundown of the amenities then? Lavatories as windows into cultural norms and what not?”

I decide then and there I’m not telling him a thing about the toilets. Let him figure out the stealth hand dryer on his own.

“It’ll make more sense to discuss the cultural significance after you’ve used the lav. I’ll hold your bag.”

Baz hands over his satchel and saunters across the corridor. He’s just walking to an airport toilet and he still looks like he could be on the runway at fashion week, the tosser. So bloody poised and posh.

Baz

I broke down and texted Father while Simon was in the lav. Told him I might be bringing a friend home for Christmas dinner.

His response was alarmingly genial. Daphne texted me a moment later to let me know she was preparing the guest room down the hall from my room. They’re both far too excited at the thought of me bringing someone home. It’s not like I don’t have friends. I do.

Dev. Niall. I’m sure there are others I’m forgetting at the moment.

This is different. This is the first time I’m bringing someone I care about, in a romantic way, home with me. It’s daunting.

And exhilarating.

Of course, Father and Daphne don’t know that. That this is the boy I’ve been in love with for years.

They’re both quite accepting of my queerness. Daphne always asks if I’m seeing someone. She’s far more polite about it than Fiona, who usually just asks if I’m getting laid.

I’ve never dated anyone long enough to have the opportunity to bring them home, if I’d even wanted to in the first place. Home is private. It’s my safe place. I’ve not been in a relationship serious enough to warrant introducing the family.

Simon knows my family. Not well, of course. Our icy coexistence at school meant his introduction to my relations was perfunctory at best.

It won’t be now.

I’ve no concerns about them liking him. It’s practically impossible to dislike Simon. Trust me, I tried. My siblings will likely want to adopt him on sight and jettison me.

Not really. They love me, the little hellions. I love them too, even if they routinely pester me to distraction.

Simon though. He’s a natural with children. By our third year he was the one who would take on the first years—calmed their insecurities at the back to school picnic, distracted them with stories and games when they would get homesick, organized the inter-class snowball fights in winter.

I can’t tell you how many times I’d walk in, at the start of term, to find a small contingent of first-year boys huddled around a board game on the floor of our room, Simon benevolently beaming at the lot of them.

I’d never stay too long. Wouldn’t do to have them think I’d gone all soft. Didn’t matter that I’d do the same with Mordelia (and later my other siblings as well) when I’d come home for holiday breaks.

Couldn’t let the whole world know I had a heart.

I just need to summon up the nerve to ask Simon.

I’m so distracted thinking about it that when the invisible automated hand dryer built into the faucet blasts into existence it startles me so much that I literally recoil from the sink.

I’m glad I didn’t come in here with Simon. He’d never let me live that down.

I take comfort in the fact that it likely scared the devil out of him too.

Simon

The queue forms as I wait for Baz. I wonder if this flight has the same kind of first-class seats as the previous one. I’ll be damned if I spend my last three hours with him with a blasted armrest between us.

I know it’s not literally the last three hours I’ll ever spend with Baz, but at the moment the thought of separating from him at all, for who knows how long, makes my outlook on the whole situation bleak.

I don’t know what he has planned for his break. I don’t want to impose and ask. He’s only home for a week and I don’t want to intrude on plans with his family. I hope there’s a chance I’ll get to see him again before he goes back to New York.

It’s alright if I don’t. He’s got my number. I’ve got his. I’ll make do.

Even if I don’t particularly want to make do.

It’s so fucking inconvenient, now that I’ve finally sorted my feelings for him, that we’re doomed to be separated by a whole bloody ocean. I couldn’t have figured this out at some point during the years we roomed together? It would have been a sight more practical.

The perils of not letting myself think about things. That’s what Penny would say. She’s going to have kittens when I tell her about this. Of course, I’m going to tell her. Penny and I have a no-secrets pact.

She’s not going to let me hear the end of this. I just know it.

There’s a brush against my elbow. Baz is back. I hand him his satchel. “Queue up, shall we?”

“No need. We’re first-class. We’ll get to pre-board.” He arches an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve gone and traded in our seat assignments again.”

I shake my head. “I’ve not, but I damn well plan on it, if the seats are anything like the previous ones.”

Baz twines the fingers of his free hand with mine. “We’ll surprise some deserving pair in Economy, shall we?”

“The last pair wasn’t quite what I’d call deserving,” I mutter.

He huffs a laugh and pulls me closer. “I’m quite enjoying this possessive streak of yours.”

He may as well get used to it. It’s not going away anytime soon. I’ve already caught a few blokes giving him the eye here at the gate and I’m not above glaring at them. Not getting our fucking first-class seats, if I’ve got anything to say about it.

“I’m still anxiously awaiting your assessment of the facilities, Simon. What cultural tidbits have you acquired?”

I should have known he wouldn’t let this go, the wanker. “Obviously a society that prides itself on cleanliness, stark design features, modern amenities.” I give him a sidelong glance. “It looked like a fucking IKEA display in there.”

“Wrong culture. This is Iceland. IKEA’s Swedish.”

“Did you get blasted by the hidden hand dryer?” The startled look in his eyes gives it away. “You did!”

“I was momentarily distracted.”

“Bollocks. It got you too, you posh twat.” I’m literally crowing with satisfaction. It’s not often anything catches Baz unawares. That must have been a sight to see.

“Oh shut it, you nightmare. You’re the one assessing an entire nation by the state of their toilets.” “I told you. You learn a lot about a place from toilets.”

Baz

I’m literally dragging my feet towards the boarding area. Each step takes me one moment closer to the end of this adventure with Simon.

I need to figure out how to ask him to come home with me.

When should I ask? I’m tempted to ask him right now but it would make the flight tremendously awkward if he said no. He wouldn’t say no, would he?

Would he?

I don’t know. I’d like to think not. But then again, he’ll be tired and jet-lagged, likely craving the comfort of his flat, cramped though it may be, rather than enduring the company of strangers for the day.

I’ll ask him when we get to London.

Simon

I’m checking out the other passengers at the gate, seeking out likely candidates for the surprise upgrade to our first-class seats. There are a few likely candidates so far. A young couple, an elderly pair, a harried looking mom with a whiny toddler. Any of them would do. As long as they’re seated in a two-person section. I fully intend to snuggle up to Baz and take any and every opportunity to snog him. Preferably in the kind of privacy we had on the last leg of this trip.

As expected, the first-class seats are the same as before. I speak to the flight attendant and explain my request. He gives me the same odd look the woman on the last flight gave me but then something softens in his expression as he looks us over and takes in our still clasped hands.

“The armrest is a bit of a barrier, isn’t it?” He says it kindly, with an amused look in his eyes.

I nod, flushing a bit at his instant comprehension of the situation.

“Alright if I just pop through to Economy for a moment and check out a likely seat switch?”

He gestures to the curtain at the far end of our section.

It doesn’t take me a minute to find the seats I want. The mum with the toddler looks exhausted, worn out and near tears. They’re seated on the left, a window and aisle combo that mimics what we had before.

That’s it then.

I tell the flight attendant and he makes short work of the matter. The mother’s face is incredulous as he brings her to our seats. The little boy’s tears are still drying on his face, but he’s taking it all in silently now.

Baz and I wave away her words of gratitude and I tell her she’s the one doing us a favor. She’s got a sense of humour it seems, because she responds that she’s sure the rest of Economy feel we’re doing them a favour, by taking her cranky offspring out of their orbit. She leans in to whisper “I’m not sure this lot will be quite as happy to have us in their midst.” She nods at the dark-suited businessmen who surround us.

Baz winks at her. “I think it’s quite what they deserve.”

We’re in our seats shortly, the pilot’s voice already starting the pre-flight commentary as we buckle in.

It’s Baz who flips the armrest up this time, taking my hand and pulling me close. I drop my head on his shoulder. It feels like it belongs there.

I sense the brush of his lips in my hair. “We’re almost home, Simon.” There’s a wistfulness to his tone and I’m excessively gratified to hear it.

I think Baz wants this day to end as little as I do.

#carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #my writing #travel au #my fic

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247wcabs-blog · 4 years

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alsoyouremischievous · 5 years

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Sides Carry On

Summary: Roman Prince will do anything to protect the life he’s found through magic. This includes enduring lectures from his best friends Logan and Patton, overcoming his evil roommate Virgil, working for the Mage, and defeating the Insidious Humdrum. His life seems to be set out for him - but things can never be easy, can they?

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Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

Chapter Six

Roman

The door creaks open in the morning far too early for my taste. The bed is colder than it has any right to be which means that Logan got up and left at his usual ungodly hour. He’s probably back to pester me into joining him. “Go away,” I moan into my pillow, fully expecting to be reprimanded anyway. Logan has a special way of causing me to forget entirely that I ever missed him at all.

A throat clears.

I finally lift my head to see that it absolutely isn’t Logan. The Mage is standing near to the door, a quirk in his grin suggesting he finds the whole situation entertaining. His eyes aren’t quite as light as the rest of his demeanor though - and they never really are.

“Oh!” I flail, getting myself upright. “Sir, I’m so sorry.”

“No use apologizing Roman, I’m sure you just didn’t hear me knocking.”

“No, um… Should I get dressed?”

“Don’t bother,” He says, strutting across the room to the window. He takes care to avoid coming close to Virgil’s bed. Even he’s afraid of vampires. Of course, The Mage would use a much more palatable word like ‘cautious’ or ‘prudent’- never afraid.

“I wasn’t available to welcome you back yesterday, my apologies,” he says. “I trust your journey was fine?”

I leverage myself out from under the covers to sit with my legs over the side of the bed. I may be in my pajamas but I can still act like I have my dignity. “Yes,” I say, “although, fine might not be the best word. My taxi driver was a goblin.”

He sighs. “Another one?” he turns to face me again, clasping his hands behind his back. “They’re relentless. Alone, I imagine.”

There’s no question in his tone but I confirm anyway. “Yes, sir.”

He gives a jerk of his head, “They aren’t smart enough to consider pairing up. What spell did you use?”

Oh. I bite my lip. “I used my blade, sir.”

“Hmm.”

“And Into thin air to clean it up,” I rush to add.

His expression flickers, not really pleased but placated at least. “Splendid, Roman.” He looks me over, scrutinizing my pajamas and my bare feet.

He meets my eyes again, his stare hard. “And this summer? Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“I would’ve reported anything to you, sir.” Because I could contact him. If I really needed to, but only then. I have his number (and I know how to send a bird).

He gives a nod and then turns his gaze from me to focus on the window again as though he’s already managed to suss out everything he needs to observe about me. The light coming in catches his hair nicely and for a moment he appears all the more like a swashbuckler.

His uniform is… interesting. His leggings are an emerald canvas disappearing into tall leather boots and his tunic which has all sorts of pockets and straps. His sword hangs from his side, entirely visible unlike mine.

Professor Bunce, Logan’s mum, told us that previous mages wore ceremonial outfits consisting of a cowl and cape whereas other headmasters wore robes. The Mage created his own uniform, I guess. She calls it a costume.

I’m pretty sure that Professor Bunce detests the Mage almost as much as his actual enemies do. Logan’s dad is a quiet fellow, so the only times I’ve heard him speak were when his mum started on a tangent against the Mage. His voice is always soft and soothing when he say’s “Now, Mitali…” which is when she’ll take a deep breath and say “I’m sorry Roman, I know you’re his foster son.”

He isn’t my foster father though, not in the real way. He’s never put himself forward in that way. As my family. I’m treated more like an ally of his and I have been since the start. At eleven years old he’d sat me down in his office and told me every detail. The Insidious Humdrum, the missing magic, the holes in the atmosphere like dead spots. All while I was still trying to comprehend the existence of magic at all, he was telling me that there was something out there devouring it. And he told me I was the only one who could help.

“You are far too young to hear this, Roman. However, the Insidious Humdrum is a threat that doesn’t wait for maturity. He’s powerful and pervasive. Our resistance to him is futile.

“The fight is a necessary one nonetheless. We want to protect you, Roman, and I vow to do so with my life. But it is vital you learn, as soon as possible, how to keep yourself safe.

“He is our greatest threat. You are our greatest hope.”

I didn’t ask any questions that day. I was in shock. All I wanted was for the Mage to do something cool again, like when he’d opened a window with just his words.

The first year was spent convincing myself it wasn’t real, the next convincing myself that it was.

It was only after I’d been attacked by ogres, shattered a circle of standing stones, and grown five inches that I asked the important question.

Why me?

Why did it have to be me to fight the Humdrum?

I’ve received a litany of answers over the years. I was chosen. I was prophesied. The Humdrum won’t leave me alone.

None of which are actual answers. Trust Logan to be the only one who can give me a workable reason. He’s the one who told me, “Because you are capable, Roman, and someone must.”

The Mage is still staring intently out the window. I consider briefly offering him a seat but I’m honestly fairly sure that standing is his default state.

I clear my throat. “Sir?”

“Roman.”

He seems put out today.

“Did we find the Insidious Humdrum?” I ask despite my hesitation.

He shakes his head and crosses his arms, his movements sharp and quick. “There have been no new developments. In fact, I have had to attend to more pressing concerns as of late.”

My jaw drops.

“Concerns more important than the Insidious Humdrum?” I ask, incredulity drenching my words.

He doesn’t even blink. “Not more important, Roman, just needing more immediate attention. The old families are testing me. Financial support is ceasing and the Pitches are paying certain members to stay away from Coven meetings. Not to mention the multitude of skirmishes that have been popping up.”

Skirmishes? I haven’t heard anything about this before. “Sir?” I press.

“They’ll do anything to test me, Roman. Anything to chip away at my control so that they can work their way into power. Ruining everything I’ve accomplished as they go”

“And they really think that they’re capable of handling the Insidious Humdrum on their own?”

“They’re not thinking of the end game, simply the moves directly in front of them. Right now it isn’t their problem and so they don’t care.”

“Well forget the idiots then! If the Humdrum wins there won’t even be anything to fight over. He should be the one we’re focused on.” I say.

“And so we shall. At the right time,” He says, peering at me sternly. “When we’ve the knowledge to win. Until then my major concern is you.”

He pauses.

“Roman. I’ve talked it through with some trusted members of the Coven. So far, our attempts to keep you safe have failed. In spite of how well protected we are here the Humdrum seems to do the most damage to you when you are within Watford grounds. Like last June, when you were taken away with no one the wiser.”

I flush at this. He’s talking about himself and the protections on the castle but I’m the one who’s a failure. I’m meant to defeat the Humdrum but during my first direct confrontation with him the most I could manage was running away. Without Logan, I may have even failed at that.

The Mage continues, slowly. “We’ve decided that you would be safer somewhere other than Watford.”

That’s... “Sir?”

“A place has already been set up for you and an adequate tutor has been contacted. Of course, I can’t tell you the details but we’re leaving soon so you’ll get to see for yourself.”

Everything in me grinds to a halt. That or the world around me starts going too fast.

“You’re asking me to leave Watford?”

He bristles. “Yes. You needn’t pack too much, just your boots and your cloak. Anything you don’t want to lose.”

“Sir.” I pause, reeling. “I can’t leave Watford. Classes start this week.”

He sighs, “Roman, you aren’t a kid anymore. There’s nothing left for you to learn here anyway.”

He could be right, I’m a terrible student. This year won’t make much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. And yet… “I can’t leave. It’s my last year at Watford.”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Mage’s eyes narrow so harshly.

“It’s impossible,” I try again. I’m trying to think of reasons, an argument. All I come up with is no. I won’t leave. My whole life is Watford, the times I’m not here don’t even feel like living. Next year that will have to change but not yet. Not yet. “No. I can’t leave.”

“Roman,” His voice is sharp enough to cut. “Don’t pretend this is a suggestion. Your life is under threat. Considering the entire World of Mages is counting on you that is not something I’m willing to compromise.”

His last point feels like one I could argue. Virgil doesn’t count on me for anything, nor do any of the house of Pitch.

I try to swallow but my throat is too dry. My head whips back and forth.

The Mage scowls at me like I’m a tantrum throwing child. “You must realize Roman, that the Humdrum only attacks when you are here. At Watford.”

“Have you just realized this now?” I blurt out, tagging on a belated “Sir.”

“What has gotten into you?” he shouts, now looming over me. “You’ve never questioned me like this before.”

“Well, you’ve never asked me to leave before!” I shout back.

His face shutters. “When we are at war we all make sacrifices.”

“We’ve been at war as long as I’ve been coming to Watford. War doesn’t mean life just stops.”

“Doesn’t it?” he spits. He’s finally lost his temper. I’m all too aware of his hand which is resting on the hilt of his sword. “Where is my normal life, Roman? Do you see my wife and children anywhere? Have you ever known me to take holidays? No. I've focused entirely on the battle ahead. We don’t have the luxury of shirking our responsibilities because we’re bored with them.”

I jerk at the insinuation. “I’m not bored,” I mutter.

“Speak. Up.”

I lift my chin and meet his eyes. “I’m not bored, sir.”

His teeth grind for a moment. “Get dressed and start packing.”

I’m rooted to the spot. “No.”

It’s not happening. I’ve just arrived. I suffered through this summer because of the promise of Watford at the end but this was the worst one yet. I’ve nothing left in me. I don’t have what it takes to leave again right now. I wouldn’t survive it. And what about Logan and Patton?

I’m shaking my head again but the Mage’s gasp makes me look to him. Or look as best I can through the red haze that’s now between us.

Fuck. Fuck.

He staggers back, his wand out. “Roman, Stay cool!”

I grab for my own wand, chanting any spell that might work but it only draws my magic more to the surface, the redness thickening. I slam my eyes shut and think about disappearing like the taxi car and the fence and the road. Try and empty my brain out so there’s nothing to fuel my broken magic. I collapse back onto the bed, distantly noting my wand clattering to the floor.

When the world swims back into view the Mage is leaning over me, his hand pressed to my forehead. I smell smoke and realize the sheets must be charred.

“Sorry,” I slur, “M’sorry. I didn’t-”

“Of course not,” he says quickly. He’s still afraid though.

“Please, please don’t make me go,” I beg.

The Mage is looking straight through me right now with his piercing gaze. I can see his mind turning and I can see the moment he gives in.

“I’ll see what can be done, perhaps work out some more time…”

He focuses on me again. “Roman, we aren’t concerned for your safety alone, you must know.”

He’s still leaning over me. Only smoke is between us and I struggle to breathe.

He finally stands again, stepping away. “Do you need to see the nurse?”

“No, sir.”

The Mage whirls out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

I wince and then check to be sure the sheets aren’t actively burning before falling quickly back into a dead sleep.

Linda

And the fog is so thick.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logince #logicality #prinxiety #lamp/calm #my fic

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watford-herts-london · 2 years

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Bus-gate cameras to come into force in Watford High Street in April

Cameras have already been installed in High Street at the junction with King Street and will start operating from April 4. The cameras use automatic number plate recognition (ANPR) to enforce the new bus gate restrictions. Buses, taxis and pedal bikes can enter the High Street from King Street at all times and loading vehicles may enter to use designated bays, during the times loading is…

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#ANPR #High street #Motorists #news #parking #Shoppers #Watford Borough Council #Watford Town

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elevenhoursinfront-blog · 7 years

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10th August 2017

Mel had an alarm on for 0930 but I was up before that. I slept much better than I have done so far as I guess I'm slowly getting better. I still can't hear well out of my ears as they're still blocked. My throat isn't as bad but still sore. Mel and Sophie told me to put olive oil in my ear to make it better but I've never heard of that before so it sounds alien to me. Who puts cooking oil into their ear? Weird. We got up and went to have breakfast. Sophie was up at the same time so we all sat together. We sat next to a guy from Watford. Small world, eh? It's not unusual to bump into people from your home town, as an English person. The majority of backpackers are English, I'd say. A lot of people say we're like a rash and spread everywhere.

Mel had to check out and she managed to get her money back for tomorrow's stay which is good. Her bus will be leaving at 1530 today to Atherton. Nothing was really on the cards for today, it was cloudy and windy. We chilled out for a bit before going shopping. Mel needed a food shop for the farm she was going too and a new phone case. Sophie needed a bra and I didn't need anything whatsoever. Apart from a new toothbrush, maybe some foundation, and I'd like a new summer dress... We walked to the shopping centre and walked around a few shops. I knew I couldn't buy anything and if I did, I'd have to throw something out. Mel couldn't get a phone case anywhere because she's got a Samsung J5 new model. I think it's because it's from England so its a different shape overseas. She got a plastic screen cover which is better than nothing. Sophie got her bra from KMart which I was allowed into but under close observation by Steve. I got some face wipes for $1.50 as I will probably need them on the farm and that's an absolute bargain! Johnson’s wipes are $16 here. What a joke! We walked around Coles whilst Mel did her main food shop. I managed to get Steve and I new toothbrushes and deodorants for cheap prices which was good. Time to go back... Steve carried Mel's shopping bag for her like the good egg he is. We got back and had a bit to eat for lunch. Sophie had made 4 tubs of bolognese for the week but hadn't eaten them. She heated them all up and we shared them between us three. Mel had pesto pasta. It was 1430 by this point and it was time for Mel to get her bags and leave. We were all walking her to the bus stop to say goodbye. The terminal is behind the shopping centre we were in today so back we went. We got there at 1500 and waited for the bus to arrive. Mel looked really nervous but I told her that she didn't have to go if she didn't want too. She was determined to do something on her own so she went. Mel and I ended up crying a lot when we said goodbye which is weird for Mel - not me. Mel didn't even cry leaving her family before she came to Oz. I cry at adverts. I've been with Mel since March, though. Steve, Soph and I went for a walk to find our bus stop for Saturday morning. We were told by the lady on reception of our hostel that it was next to the Greyhound stop next to the lagoon and harbour. We walked the 20 minutes there to find it but couldn't... I checked the tickets which said 'pick up from Cairns Central Rail station' which is where Mel got her bus. We walked the whole way here for no reason! We went into a tourist information place to double check and it was where Mel went. Sophie asked where her tour was leaving from, too. We went into McDonald's and got a cold drink before walked back to Coles to grab bits for dinner. We had walked back and forth all day long. We decided on doing mixed veg with brown egg fried rice and soy sauce. We got to Coles and picked up broccoli, green beans, peppers and onions. Soph already had the rice. We walked back to the hostel again and went to our rooms for a bit. By 1745, my phone rang. It was Mel. She was crying down the phone panicking - she needed to leave now. The farm she had booked was not what she expected. The pictures had lied and it didn't look the way it was meant too. The lady she spoke too said there was free wifi which there wasn't (with no signal). The was a $200 bond which you wouldn't get back unless you stayed there for a month which wasn't what Mel was told. Mel spoke to a few of the backpackers there and they told her that there wasn't any work at all and they were all still waiting.

I told her not to worry and I would sort it. The lady was coming to check Mel in at 1830 and to take the $200 bond. I checked the bus timetable and the last one left at 1740. There were no trains in the area and the next bus was scheduled for 0630 the next day. I found a taxi number and sent that to Mel to get into the next town. The next town was Mareeba which is slightly more popular than Atherton. The taxi quoted her $12 which was better than nothing. I was checking numbers for everything. The bus garage was shut so I couldn't get through to anyone there. I tried to see if Australia had a non-emergency Police line to ask how she could get out of the area but I don't think they have one. I checked to see if an Uber would pick her up but they wouldn't. A taxi to us would cost $210. I then checked to see how much a hotel would be in Atherton and Mareeba, which was about $120. My next idea was a hire car. There was one open hire car place in the town Mel was in but they didn't do drop offs in different cities. I then looked at hire cars from where I was to pick Mel up and then come straight back... I was running out of ideas but I couldn't leave her stranded. Next in line would be to go round the hostel to find out if anyone had a car and pay them to get her. Mel rang me and said that the taxi driver took her to a hostel in Atherton which she could stay for $35. She would then get the next bus to Cairns in the morning. She's booked back into our hostel and our room which is great. The hostel isn't your average one - there aren't any backpackers there. It's more like a pub/hotel thing with rooms. The people there are weird and she's very scared. She's luckily in a room on her own but she's still going to sleep with the light on. She hasn't even gone outside for dinner. She doesn't want to leave her room. I've made her keep in contact with me regularly so I know she's safe. She isn't going to do farm work now. She's changed her plans to go down the east coast now with Jack and go home early. She really wanted to do loads more travelling but she doesn't have the money too. Which is why we're all doing farm work - you save heaps of money because you can't spend it in the middle of nowhere. Steve and I went downstairs after 1900 to make dinner with Soph. Dinner took about an hour thanks to the rice taking so long to cook, but my god it was worth it. I really, really enjoyed it and it's going to be my go-to dinner now. Even Steve enjoyed it and it was only vegetables really. We had tea and cookies whilst the rest of the hostel joined in on quiz night. We weren't that interested. Sophie went up to bed around 2100 as she's up early for her reef tour and Steve and I are knackered for no reason. Tasmania literally took every bit of energy out of us. 2230 and I was ready to sleep.

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megadarkbouquettidalwavethings · 6 years

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Premier League relegation: Who will go down?

Ten games left, 30 points to play for, three teams to go down. How will one of the tightest relegation fights in recent Premier League history pan out?

In the past five seasons three teams in the relegation zone at this stage of the season have survived, so all is not lost for West Brom, Stoke and Swansea.

On average, the number of points to guarantee survival in the previous 22 seasons is 36.6.

Taking 37 points as the safety mark, we look at the 13 teams below that mark and, with the help of super-computer SAM (Sports Analytics Machine) – created by @ProfIanMcHale at the University of Liverpool – predict the final Premier League table.

You can also predict your own final table at the bottom.

West Brom – 20th in table, 20 points

Consecutive seasons in the Premier League: 8; Highest Premier League finish: 8th (2012-13)

Who have they got left to play?

Watford (a), Leicester (h), Bournemouth (a), Burnley (h), Swansea (h), Manchester United (a), Liverpool (h), Newcastle (a), Tottenham (h), Crystal Palace (a)

Top scorers: Jay Rodriguez, Salomon Rondon (4)

Managers this season: Tony Pulis (10 points from 12 games), Gary Megson (caretaker, two points from two games), Alan Pardew (eight points from 14 games)

What do they need to reach 37 points?

A miracle? A haul of 17 points from their remaining 10 games is looking unlikely at best for Albion, who have won once since August. Where are at least five wins going to come from? File home games against Burnley and Swansea under ‘must-win.’

Why are they in trouble?

Where to start? Albion have won only three games all season, with the change in manager spectacularly failing to have the required effect. No team has had more 0-0 draws than their four, and only Swansea have scored fewer goals than West Brom’s 22.

To top it off, the chairman and chief executive were sacked last month, and then days later four senior players were interviewed by police after allegedly stealing a taxi outside a fast-food restaurant in Barcelona.

Why are they staying up?

They’re not.

OK, let’s try and stay positive. There are no more trips to Barcelona in the diary, only three of their remaining 10 games are against teams in the top six, and Albion did pull off the ‘Great Escape’ once before.

In 2005 West Brom were bottom at Christmas, and bottom of the table at kick-off on the final day. But they stayed up – despite winning only six games all season.

BBC commentator Jonathan Pearce: “The club is in disarray. Tony Pulis should not have been sacked. The board should have invested heavily last summer. I hope Alan Pardew can bring them back up straight away but that’ll be a massive task.”

SAM predicted finish: 20th with 32 points

Stoke – 19th in table, 26 points

Consecutive seasons in the Premier League: 10; Highest Premier League finish: 9th (2013-14, 2014-15, 2015-16)

Who have they got left to play?

Southampton (a), Manchester City (h), Everton (h), Arsenal (a), Tottenham (h), West Ham (a), Burnley (h), Liverpool (a), Crystal Palace (h), Swansea (a)

Top scorer: Xherdan Shaqiri (7)

Managers this season: Mark Hughes (20 points from 22 games), Eddie Niedzwiecki (caretaker, no points from one game), Paul Lambert (six points from five games)

What do they need to reach 37 points?

Four wins may not sound like a big ask for manager Paul Lambert, but Stoke have managed only six all season. Five have come at home, and the visits of Burnley, Crystal Palace and Everton will be highlighted in Lambert’s office. After that, a final-day showdown at Swansea?

Why are they in trouble?

The Potters have been a mess at the back. No team has conceded more goals (54) or kept fewer clean sheets (four) – and that’s despite Butland and Lee Grant making more saves (104) than goalkeepers of any other team. A league-worst haul of seven points on the road has also been decisive.

Why are they staying up?

In Xherdan Shaqiri, Jack Butland and Joe Allen, Stoke may possess a spine of enough experience and quality to see them over the line. Shaqiri scored a hat-trick at the last World Cup and could enter another for Switzerland in peak form – he has scored three goals and supplied an assist in Lambert’s five games.

BBC commentator Jonathan Pearce: “They are entering a tough run of six games. There aren’t enough young legs in the squad. Shaqiri can’t keep coming up with ‘worldies’. I can only see two more wins and, if they have to win at Swansea on the last day to stay up, they’ll be in the Championship.”

SAM predicted finish: 19th with 38 points.

Swansea – 18th in table, 27 points

Consecutive seasons in the Premier League: 7; Highest Premier League finish: 8th (2014-15)

Who have they got left to play?

West Ham (h), Huddersfield (a), Manchester United (a), West Brom (a), Everton (h), Manchester City (a), Chelsea (h), Bournemouth (a), Stoke (h)

Top scorer: Jordan Ayew (5)

Managers this season: Paul Clement (12 points from 18 games), Leon Britton (caretaker, one point from two games), Carlos Carvalhal (14 points from eight games)

What do they need to reach 37 points?

Another 10 points from their last 10 games. Sound doable? On current form, you’d have to fancy their chances, although trips to both Manchester clubs and the visit of Chelsea won’t help. That last-day clash with Stoke could be a huge one.

Why are they in trouble?

Don’t shoot, don’t score. Swansea have scored the fewest goals (21), had the fewest shots (238) and shots on target (64) all season. Can they suddenly find a way to be a threat? Maybe bad luck has played a part too. Jordan Ayew may be the Swans’ top scorer with five goals but he has also hit the woodwork four times. Only Kevin de Bruyne and Harry Kane can better that.

Why are they staying up?

Carvalhal was a left-field appointment to replace Clement, but credit where credit’s due – he has made a difference.

As well as the many food-related anecdotes he has served up, the Portuguese has steered the Swans to four wins in his opening eight games to give them a chance of extending their stay in the top flight.

If they stay up, perhaps Lukasz Fabianski should be due some thanks. He has made the most saves in the Premier League (101), but Swansea have only conceded the 12th most goals (41).

BBC commentator Jonathan Pearce: “The manager is bubbly. He has brought an upwardly mobile feel to the club. But for how long? A final-day win over Stoke should see them finally safe.”

SAM predicted finish: 18th with 38 points.

Crystal Palace – 17th in table, 27 points

Consecutive seasons in the Premier League: 5; Highest Premier League finish: 10th (2014-15)

Who have they got left to play?

Manchester United (h), Chelsea (a), Huddersfield (a), Liverpool (h), Bournemouth (a), Brighton (h), Watford (a), Leicester (h), Stoke (a), West Brom (h)

Top scorer: Luka Milivojevic (7)

Managers this season: Frank de Boer (no points from four games), Roy Hodgson (27 points from 24 games)

What do they need to reach 37 points?

Like Swansea, Palace need another 10 points for Roy Hodgson to complete his salvage operation. A tricky looking run of games won’t do them any favours, though, with home games against Brighton, Leicester and West Brom possibly holding the key.

Why are they in trouble?

A dreadful start under Frank de Boer left Palace playing catch-up, while striker Christian Benteke scoring only twice has not helped. Add in a bad recent run of no wins from five games and you can see why Palace have hit the skids.

Why are they staying up?

At the age of 70, Hodgson is well on his way to proving his critics wrong. Inheriting a team with no points and no goals, he has given the Eagles a fighting chance of survival going into the home straight. Wilfried Zaha has been crucial – his 167 dribbles put him top of the Premier League list – while Luka Milivojevic’s accuracy from the spot makes him an unlikely goal hero.

BBC senior football reporter Ian Dennis: “Considering Palace’s abysmal start – they were pointless and goalless after their opening seven games – Roy Hodgson has worked wonders to even give them a lifeline of Premier League survival.

“Hodgson has always maintained there is a hard work ahead. They may dip back into the bottom three but with their vociferous home support the best atmosphere in the top flight, they will bounce back out before May.”

BBC commentator Jonathan Pearce: “Too many injuries, especially to Wilfried Zaha, could kill their chances of staying up. Roy Hodgson did it with Fulham and he can do it again. A final-day win against old manager Alan Pardew might come in the nick of time but the fans deserve better than this.”

SAM predicted finish: 17th with 39 points.

Southampton – 16th in table, 27 points

Consecutive seasons in the Premier League: 6; Highest Premier League finish: 6th (2015-16)

Who have they got left to play?

Stoke (h), Newcastle (a), West Ham (a), Arsenal (a), Chelsea (h), Leicester (a), Bournemouth (h), Everton (a), Manchester City (h)

Top scorer: Charlie Austin (6)

Manager this season: Mauricio Pellegrino

What do they need to reach 37 points?

Another club 10 points away from the predicted safety mark. Three wins and a draw required, ideally before the final-day visit of the champions elect. Southampton’s home form has been terrible but this weekend’s visit of Stoke is already looking like a big game.

Why are they in trouble?

Was sacking Claude Puel a bad call? Southampton finished eighth last season and reached the League Cup final. Pellegrino has not really caught the imagination of Saints fans, who have seen only three home wins all season. Only West Brom have a worse home record.

Southampton lost defender Virgil van Dijk to Liverpool in January but it is at the other end where you can point the finger. Only the top six have created more chances than Saints’ 264, but they have scored only 29 goals. Top scorer Charlie Austin has started five league games.

Why are they staying up?

If your home form’s a mess you need to pick points up on the road, and Southampton have the 12th best away record in the division. Dusan Tadic has created more chances than David Silva this season but is another who can perhaps look at his strikeforce…

BBC commentator Jonathan Pearce: “If they lose all four of their coming away matches at Newcastle, West Ham, Arsenal and Leicester, they’ll go down. They might have to hope Manchester City have the Champions League final in mind when it comes to the last game at St Mary’s. There aren’t enough goals in the side.”

SAM predicted finish: 16th with 39 points.

Newcastle – 15th in table, 29 points

First season back in the Premier League.

Highest Premier League finish: 2nd (1995-96, 1996-97)

Who have they got left to play?

Liverpool (a), Southampton (h), Tottenham (a), Huddersfield (h), Leicester (a), Arsenal (h), Everton (a), West Brom (h), Watford (a), Chelsea (h)

Top scorer: Dwight Gayle (5)

Manager this season: Rafael Benitez

What do they need to reach 37 points?

Three more wins should do it for Newcastle, and home games against Southampton, Huddersfield and West Brom look like arguably their best hopes. The Magpies have scored only 12 goals at home all season, though.

Why are they in trouble?

Benitez guided Newcastle to the Championship title last season – and he has still got the same team. Eight of the XI who started the 2-2 draw against Bournemouth last weekend were key parts of the promotion-winning side. Continuity is good, but there’s been a definite lack of investment.

Like all teams in the mix, goals have been hard to find. 13 different players have scored in the league but Newcastle have managed only 27 goals in 28 games.

Why are they staying up?

If they stay up Rafael Benitez will get even more credit in the bank. Despite the club being up for sale and January loan signing Islam Slimani injured, Benitez has crafted a four-match unbeaten run at a key time.

BBC chief football correspondent John Murray: “It’s entirely possible we will look back on their home win against Manchester United this month and say that was the difference between staying up and going down. Staying up for Newcastle would be an achievement in itself after another season of uncertainty over the future direction and ownership of the club.”

SAM predicted finish: 14th with 41 points.

Huddersfield – 14th in table, 30 points

First season in the Premier League.

Who have they got left to play?

Tottenham (a), Swansea (h), Crystal Palace (h), Newcastle (a), Brighton (a), Watford (h), Chelsea (a), Everton (h), Manchester City (a), Arsenal (h)

Top scorer: Steve Mounie (6)

Manager this season: David Wagner

What do they need to reach 37 points?

Two wins and a draw will do it for Town and you would imagine their fans would have taken that at this stage of their first season in the top flight since 1972. Back-to-back home games against Swansea and Crystal Palace could all but secure safety by mid-March…

Why are they in trouble?

At times this season Town have stepped away from their high-energy high pressing game and offered little resistance in heavy defeats to Tottenham and Liverpool. Goals have been a problem, and only Everton and Swansea have created fewer chances from open play.

Why are they staying up?

David Wagner has to take a lot of credit in transforming the club’s fortunes since he took over in November 2015. Anyone who has been to a game in the past two seasons can testify to the passion and connection with the fans he has installed – and, in Aaron Mooy, Jonas Lossl and Steve Mounie, his big signings have largely delivered.

BBC chief football correspondent John Murray: “Huddersfield are the least likely of the three promoted sides to stave off relegation. After their memorable start, they have slipped into danger over the winter months. But I sense their response to that is they are prepared to give it a real go for ‘death or glory’ and it might just come off.”

BBC commentator Jonathan Pearce: “I can see them beating Arsenal at home amid dramatic final-day scenes to stay up. I’d like to see that. It would be a romantic story in a functional age. The John Smith’s roar can keep them up.”

SAM predicted finish: 15th with 40 points.

West Ham – 13th in table, 30 points

Consecutive seasons in the Premier League: 6; Highest Premier League finish: 5th (1998-99)

Who have they got left to play?

Swansea (a), Burnley (h), Southampton (h), Chelsea (a), Stoke (h), Arsenal (a), Manchester City (a), Leicester (a), Everton (h)

Top scorers: Marko Arnautovic, Javier Hernandez (7)

Managers this season: Slaven Bilic (nine points from 11 games), David Moyes (21 points from 17 games)

What do they need to reach 37 points?

Another side looking for two wins and a draw from their final 10 games, and David Moyes will fancy ticking those off in the next three games before facing Chelsea, Arsenal and Manchester City.

Why are they in trouble?

The Hammers have shipped 50 goals – only Stoke have let in more. Joe Hart lost his place in goal as a result, and surely a starting berth at the World Cup along with it.

Why are they staying up?

Appointing David Moyes looked cautious at best in November but, after a slow start the Hammers, have won five and lost three of the past 13 games. He has got the best out of Marko Arnautovic, even if the jury is out on his January transfer business. Scare stories about their home form are wide of the mark – the Hammers are 11th in the table at home.

SAM predicted finish: 13th with 42 points.

Brighton – 12th in table, 31 points

First season in the Premier League

Who have they got left to play?

Arsenal (h), Everton (a), Leicester (h), Huddersfield (h), Crystal Palace (a), Tottenham (h), Burnley (a), Manchester United (h), Manchester City (a), Liverpool (a)

Top scorer: Glenn Murray (10)

Manager this season: Chris Hughton

What do they need to reach 37 points?

Two wins will do it for Brighton – a fine effort in their first season at this level since 1983. They still have to face five of the top six in their run-in, though.

Why are they in trouble?

Facing Tottenham, Manchester City, Manchester United, Liverpool and Arsenal in their last 10 games means that it could be a tense finale to the season if they can’t pick up the points they need soon. They have an FA Cup quarter-final to fit in as well.

Why are they staying up?

Who would have thought that Glenn Murray would have the same number of Premier League goals as Alvaro Morata? The veteran has been a revelation, especially as his goals have come from only 37 shots – fewer than Jordon Ibe, Thomas Ince and Andros Townsend.

Summer signing Pascal Gross has also had an excellent campaign – he has created 63 chances and has seven assists. Only Kevin de Bruyne, Mesut Ozil, Christian Eriksen and Cesc Fabregas have created more chances.

To complete a trio of individual standouts, centre-back Lewis Dunk has a league-high 45 blocks. Let’s not mention a league-high four own goals.

BBC commentator Jonathan Pearce: “They’re on a good run. They’re the most solid-looking side down there and they have been boosted by the strikeforce they should be OK. Jurgen Locadia and Leonardo Ulloa were really astute signings. There’s a sting in the tail to come in the last four games but if they beat Leicester and Huddersfield at home they should have enough. The manager has done a brilliant job. No-one gave them a chance.”

SAM predicted finish: 12th with 43 points.

Bournemouth – 11th in table, 32 points

Consecutive seasons in the Premier League: 3; Highest Premier League finish: 9th (2016-17)

Who have they got left to play?

Leicester (a), Tottenham (h), West Brom (h), Watford (a), Crystal Palace (h), Liverpool (a), Manchester United (h), Southampton (a), Swansea (h), Burnley (a)

Top scorer: Callum Wilson (7)

Manager this season: Eddie Howe

What do they need to reach 37 points?

A win and two draws, or two wins, should see Howe’s side safe for another season.

Why are they in trouble?

They have kept only five clean sheets all season, with goalkeeper Asmir Begovic making four mistakes leading to goals – only Petr Cech has the same unwanted record.

Why are they staying up?

It was a bleak Christmas in Bournemouth after they were thrashed 4-0 by Manchester City to leave them in the relegation zone. Since then the Cherries have lost only once in the league – a season-saving run of form? They have been clinical when they needed to be, losing two of 14 matches against teams currently below them in the table.

SAM predicted finish: 11th with 43 points.

Watford – 10th in table, 33 points

Consecutive seasons in the Premier League: 3; Highest Premier League finish: 13th (2015-16)

Who have they got left to play?

West Brom (h), Arsenal (a), Liverpool (a), Bournemouth (h), Burnley (h), Huddersfield (a), Crystal Palace (h), Tottenham (a), Newcastle (h), Manchester United (a)

Top scorer: Abdoulaye Doucoure (7)

Managers this season: Marco Silva (26 points from 24 games), Javi Gracia (seven points from four games)

What do they need to reach 37 points?

A win and a draw in their last 10 games should be enough for the Hornets, and Javi Gracia will have marked his next three home games as ideal to steer his side over the line.

Why are they in trouble?

With trips to Arsenal, Liverpool, Tottenham and Manchester United to come, points on the road may well be scarce. But it would take some capitulation from here to go down.

Why are they staying up?

They appointed Marco Silva to much fanfare, then binned him to even more fanfare mid-season. Despite the disruption blamed on Everton’s courtship of Silva, it looks like being another season of consolidation and maybe even a highest league finish since 1987.

Abdoulaye Doucoure must be a shoo-in for player of the year at Vicarage Road. He has scored seven times from only 12 shots on target, and has played 1,699 passes – the 11th most in the league and the most by any player outside the top six teams.

SAM predicted finish: 10th with 45 points.

Everton – 9th in table, 34 points

Consecutive seasons in the Premier League: 26 (top flight since 1954-55); Highest Premier League finish: 4th (2004-05)

Who have they got left to play?

Burnley (a), Brighton (h), Stoke (a), Manchester City (h), Liverpool (h), Swansea (a), Newcastle (h), Huddersfield (a), Southampton (h), West Ham (a)

Top scorer: Wayne Rooney (10)

Managers this season: Ronald Koeman (eight points from nine games), David Unsworth (caretaker, seven points from five games), Sam Allardyce (19 points from 14 games).

What do they need to reach 37 points?

One more win should be enough for Everton to stay up – and in their current form that’s probably just as well. Sam Allardyce has won once away from home since taking charge and the Toffees were dreadful in losing at Watford last weekend.

Why are they in trouble?

They sold striker Romelu Lukaku to Manchester United for £75m and never really replaced him. Their recruitment drive looks muddled at best, with more than £175m being spent and some players already looking like misfits.

Davy Klaassen, Cenk Tosun and Sandro Ramirez have started eight league games between them without scoring. Allardyce has steadied the ship to a certain extent but is he the man for the long term?

Why are they staying up?

A seven-match unbeaten run either side of Christmas put any real relegation fears to bed at Everton. They have failed to reach 50 points only three times in the past 15 seasons – can they manage that?

Predicted finish: 9th with 48 points.

Leicester City – 8th in table, 36 points

Consecutive seasons in the Premier League: 4; Highest Premier League finish: Champions (2015-16)

Who have they got left to play?

Bournemouth (h), West Brom (a), Brighton (a), Newcastle (h), Burnley (a), Southampton (h), Crystal Palace (a), West Ham (h), Tottenham (a)

Top scorer: Jamie Vardy (13)

Managers this season: Craig Shakespeare (six points from eight games), Michael Appleton (caretaker, three points from one game), Claude Puel (27 points from 19 games)

What do they need to reach 37 points? A draw is likely to be enough for Claude Puel’s side and they will have their eyes set on at least a seventh-placed finish rather than a fight against the drop. Leicester were bottom at this stage of the season in 2015 but won a remarkable seven of their last 10 games to finish 14th.

SAM predicted finish: 7th with 50 points.

Professor Ian McHale and Dr Tarak Kharrat at the University of Liverpool created SAM, which predicts the outcome of football matches based on results, teams, players and every event in every match, and then simulates sequences of games.

Here’s SAM’s prediction for the Premier League bottom six.

BBC Sport asked super-computer SAM (Sports Analytics Machine) to predict the final Premier League table.

Have your say

You’ve read the stats and heard from the experts – but how do you think the table will end up?

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