Jack had been mostly joking about turning up on Mitchell's doorstep when he talked to Kate, but several days later he hadn't come up with a better idea. He'd finally conceded the following list of things:
1. He was not allowed to just "forget" to talk to Mitchell, let alone to George or Nina -- appealing as feeding his denial that way might be. 2. He could not explain it over the phone without sounding like he was joking or being intentionally cruel. 3. A letter would be an even worse idea. 4. Bristol in another universe was a perfectly reasonable side trip to take between Fandom and 1902 Moscow.
Then it turned out Mitchell wasn't in Bristol, and Jack was grateful he'd claimed his phone in time to get the text with his new address. He sent a reply --good to know, am back + was on way to see you -- and was at Mitchell's new front door within a few hours.
He drew a deep breath and knocked. He'd halfway expected the hairs on his neck to stand up or la bete to otherwise express alarm about this house -- but no, so far everything was
( ... )
"Mitchell?" Nina called. She was in the kitchen, starting on dinner, but naturally her two roommates were selectively deaf. "Someone's at the door! Stop messing about with the telly and get it!"
Mitchell dropped his hands away from the device in question. It hadn't shown him Annie again since this morning, and, okay. "Fine, I'll get it," he called, slipping into the hallway.
He paused briefly by the door. He was smelling something funny...
Either way, the door opened, and Mitchell looked briefly puzzled. "Hey, Jack."
"Hey," Jack echoed, and shuffled his feet a bit nervously. His nostrils flared for a moment; Mitchell didn't smell quite like Sebastien, but it was close enough that Jack figured this was vampire.
Kate was on a break in Denver when she had the time to check her phone.
And unsurprisingly, she also had the time to raise an eyebrow at the text she'd received, and to call back. Seemed like as good a time as any to check in, anyway.
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1. He was not allowed to just "forget" to talk to Mitchell, let alone to George or Nina -- appealing as feeding his denial that way might be.
2. He could not explain it over the phone without sounding like he was joking or being intentionally cruel.
3. A letter would be an even worse idea.
4. Bristol in another universe was a perfectly reasonable side trip to take between Fandom and 1902 Moscow.
Then it turned out Mitchell wasn't in Bristol, and Jack was grateful he'd claimed his phone in time to get the text with his new address. He sent a reply --good to know, am back + was on way to see you -- and was at Mitchell's new front door within a few hours.
He drew a deep breath and knocked. He'd halfway expected the hairs on his neck to stand up or la bete to otherwise express alarm about this house -- but no, so far everything was ( ... )
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Mitchell dropped his hands away from the device in question. It hadn't shown him Annie again since this morning, and, okay. "Fine, I'll get it," he called, slipping into the hallway.
He paused briefly by the door. He was smelling something funny...
Either way, the door opened, and Mitchell looked briefly puzzled. "Hey, Jack."
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Interesting.
"So, er ... you got a bigger place."
Small talk. He was brilliant.
"Can I come in?"
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Mitchell knew werewolf when he smelled it.
He had mixed feelings about this. To put it mildly.
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And unsurprisingly, she also had the time to raise an eyebrow at the text she'd received, and to call back. Seemed like as good a time as any to check in, anyway.
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Not that that was anything new.
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"Hey. It's me."
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