Fic: This Could Be A Case For Mulder and Scully; 3/3
Title: This Could Be A Case For Mulder and Scully
Author: shootingstars88
Characters: Annie, Mitchell
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don't own Being Human, just playing with the shiny new fandom.
~
Author's Note: As promised here is the third and final part of the 'little oneshot' I originally intended to write. As with the other two parts, it's unbetaed and a bit rushed because of my impatience to get it up before the impending finale (EEP finale!). I realise this could continue to including more about getting to know George but since I'm an Annie/Mitchell person, this is going to end with this part instead.
Part Two
Part Three:
~
“Things aren’t exactly like the films,” he tells her simply.
Then he smiles at her and somehow, just like that, none of it matters. Because maybe he is a vampire, maybe the geeky twenty something still snoring upstairs is a werewolf, but they’re also funny and kind and right now, they’re all she’s got. And that’s more than enough.
“Fair point,” she concedes, feeling a tiny smile creep onto her face.
He smiles when she does, his whole face lighting up again like it did the first time he saw her, as though nothing pleases him more than seeing her happy. He’s so infectiously cheerful that she’s instantly at ease, quite forgetting to worry about what to say. He slides off the sofa onto the floor and stretches his long legs out in front of him, patting the bit of floor beside him.
“How long have you known I was here?” she asks, vanishing and reappearing beside him on the floor, her back resting on the sofa.
“Pretty much all day,” he admits, barely flinching this time at her disappearing act. He shifts slightly to face her and shrugs. “After a while you sort of get a sense for these things.”
“But why didn’t you tell the other guy - George?”
“Didn’t want to freak you out,” he answers honestly and then, as if afraid he might have offended her he amends, “I mean you were hiding and ... well I just thought maybe you’d want to approach us in your own time.”
The very idea that he even spared a thought about protecting her, that he’s actually afraid to upset her, makes her feel warm all over. She smiles and edges a little closer to him to let him know it’s all right, that it’s more than all right.
“I’ve gotta say, I didn’t think it’d take all day though,” he teases, now he’s sure she’s not annoyed.
“No-one’s ever been able to see me before - I was freaking out!” she protests. “I had a bloody panic attack when George saw me at the window this afternoon! And then when you buggered off to the pub and left me by myself-”
“I thought you might want some time on your own,” he explains, “y’know to freak out or just calm down for a bit.”
“Oh,” she says softly, taken aback again at the fact that he was actually being thoughtful. She’s been alone for so long, overlooking and ignored, that she’s quite forgotten kindness like this. “Thank you. Although for future reference, I’ve had just about enough alone time, thanks.”
“Point taken,” he says and then adds tentatively, “so you don’t mind us being here then?”
“Mind? Are you kidding?” She whips around to stare at him so quickly that her hair flicks into her eyes. She picks the stray strands out of the way and says, “You two can never, ever leave, you do realise that? I was going mad by myself!”
He sighs, obviously relieved and bumps his shoulder against hers affectionately. “Good.”
Annie freezes at the contact, every muscle in her body going completely rigid. Mitchell notices and he too tenses, glancing around wildly at the stairs to see if George has appeared. “What’s wrong?” he asks urgently, concern crinkling a dozen creases around his eyes.
For a long moment she doesn’t answer him. “You touched me,” she says eventually, still stunned. Every inch of her shoulder feels likes it’s on fire. “I felt that. Oh my god, you touched me.”
“Oh,” he says quietly, understanding.
Without another word he lays his hand on his thigh, palm up.
Her hand trembles as she reaches forward and lays it on his, skin to skin.
Slowly, carefully, he wraps his fingers around her hand and ducks his head to catch her eye, smiling. Every nerve ending in her body seems to have migrated to her fingertips and where his hand touches her there is a tingle, then a spark of warmth that spreads slowly, like water washing over her entire body until she feels warm and loved and real. “Thank you,” she says, giving his fingers a grateful squeeze.
“Anytime,” he offers.
For a moment they just sit there quietly, their intertwined hands resting on Mitchell’s leg.
For the first time in far too long, Annie forgets to be sad.
Mitchell turns his attention to the television again but he’s only half watching it. She sees him glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and the quiet peace of the moment seems to be affecting him as much as her. She wonders how long it’s been since someone held his hand too.
After a few minutes he breaks the silence, shifting slightly to look at her again but not releasing her hand. “So since we’re house-mates now and since you know loads of things about me-”
“I know hardly anything about you,” she disagrees quickly, thinking of all the questions left unanswered.
“You know my name’s Mitchell, you know that I’m a vampire and I live with a werewolf, you know -” he casts around, searching for something else and his eyes fall on the television, “- I like late night television, I’m fairly sure you’ve been in my room at some point today so you know that I’m messy-”
“Yeah,” she agrees, “ you didn’t unpack so much as dump your clothes on the floor.”
He shrugs, then gives her hand a squeeze and ducks his head to catch her eye. “And you also know I have a soft spot for pretty girls.”
She blushes at his words.
“See and all I know is that you blush when someone compliments you,” he continues, “and that you’re lonely.” The way his eyes fall into shadow tells her that he knows the feeling as well, if not better than her. “I don’t even know your name,” he points out.
She laughs a little at that, because he’s quite right. Here she is holding his hand in the middle of the night and she hasn’t even introduced herself. “I’m Annie,” she says finally. “Sorry, apparently not talking to anyone for months sort of makes you forget your manners.”
“Annie,” he repeats, smiling at her. “I like that.” She blushes again, which seems to please him.
“What else do you want to know?” she asks tentatively, “I should warn you, I’m not very interesting.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he tells her quickly, frowning as though he doesn’t like the way she just put herself down. “Tell me anything you like.”
And so she does. She tells him about her childhood and Owen and how she hates it when people fold down the pages of books instead of using a bookmark. She tells him that she had big plans for this house and that the worst thing in the world was wandering through it at her own funeral.
In turn, he tells her about his past, then about meeting George and working at the hospital. He seems embarrassed when he explains how they’re trying a little experiment in being human, renting this house and joining the world but she shakes her head and tells him it’s brilliant what they’re doing, just brilliant.
He fills her in on Neighbours and she tells him all the quirks and problems of the house, right down to the creaky floorboard in his bedroom. He admits that he didn’t like The Da Vinci Code and he never got what all the fuss was about. She pretends to be shocked and then laughs and says thank god because neither did she. When she says that George going all high pitched when he’s worried is the funniest thing she’s ever heard, he tells her that sometimes he says something on purpose just to make him do it.
When he finally goes to bed at around three, she’s not sorry there’s just him and George in her entire world now.
It’s been less than a day but he knows how to make her laugh and how to make her smile and when to just shut up and let her hold his hand. And that’s more than she ever dared hope for again.
~
In the morning he’s the first down, like he promised. He smiles when he sees her, then stops in his tracks and looks warily around the room.
“Did you ... unpack stuff? And tidy up?” he asks, incredulous.
“A bit,” she admits sheepishly. “Ok a lot,” she amends when he raises his eyes and gestures around the room.
“Didn’t you sleep?”
“Don’t know that I can,” she tells him honestly, “beside I was far too wired to sleep. I made you breakfast as well ... don’t get used to it mind you,” she warns, wagging a finger at him. “I just wanted to do something for you, to say ... well to say thanks I suppose. For yesterday.”
He looks at her for a long moment, like she’s something worth looking at. She smiles, still not used to meeting someone’s gaze and seeing anything but blank indifference there.
And so George finds them at the kitchen table, Mitchell eating toast and drinking coffee, while Annie warms her hands on a mug, unable to drink.
“Morning,” Mitchell says to him cheerily, with a sideways smile for Annie. “George, this is Annie, Annie, George.”
George blinks down at her, entirely confused.
“She’s a ghost. We’ll be living here with her.”
“What?”
Like Mitchell promised last night, George’s voice does the squeaky thing she loves so much and Annie can’t help but laugh. Mitchell laughs alongside her, before pulling up a chair for George and promising to fill him in.
Annie tunes out their conversation, turning her attention to the blue sky outside the kitchen window and thinking that if she was alive, she’d probably be bugging Owen to go somewhere nice for the day. Mitchell elbows her, bringing her attention back to them and for once she is perfectly happy to leave her daydreams.
~
Enjoy the finale everyone :)
Author: shootingstars88
Characters: Annie, Mitchell
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don't own Being Human, just playing with the shiny new fandom.
~
Author's Note: As promised here is the third and final part of the 'little oneshot' I originally intended to write. As with the other two parts, it's unbetaed and a bit rushed because of my impatience to get it up before the impending finale (EEP finale!). I realise this could continue to including more about getting to know George but since I'm an Annie/Mitchell person, this is going to end with this part instead.
Part Two
Part Three:
~
“Things aren’t exactly like the films,” he tells her simply.
Then he smiles at her and somehow, just like that, none of it matters. Because maybe he is a vampire, maybe the geeky twenty something still snoring upstairs is a werewolf, but they’re also funny and kind and right now, they’re all she’s got. And that’s more than enough.
“Fair point,” she concedes, feeling a tiny smile creep onto her face.
He smiles when she does, his whole face lighting up again like it did the first time he saw her, as though nothing pleases him more than seeing her happy. He’s so infectiously cheerful that she’s instantly at ease, quite forgetting to worry about what to say. He slides off the sofa onto the floor and stretches his long legs out in front of him, patting the bit of floor beside him.
“How long have you known I was here?” she asks, vanishing and reappearing beside him on the floor, her back resting on the sofa.
“Pretty much all day,” he admits, barely flinching this time at her disappearing act. He shifts slightly to face her and shrugs. “After a while you sort of get a sense for these things.”
“But why didn’t you tell the other guy - George?”
“Didn’t want to freak you out,” he answers honestly and then, as if afraid he might have offended her he amends, “I mean you were hiding and ... well I just thought maybe you’d want to approach us in your own time.”
The very idea that he even spared a thought about protecting her, that he’s actually afraid to upset her, makes her feel warm all over. She smiles and edges a little closer to him to let him know it’s all right, that it’s more than all right.
“I’ve gotta say, I didn’t think it’d take all day though,” he teases, now he’s sure she’s not annoyed.
“No-one’s ever been able to see me before - I was freaking out!” she protests. “I had a bloody panic attack when George saw me at the window this afternoon! And then when you buggered off to the pub and left me by myself-”
“I thought you might want some time on your own,” he explains, “y’know to freak out or just calm down for a bit.”
“Oh,” she says softly, taken aback again at the fact that he was actually being thoughtful. She’s been alone for so long, overlooking and ignored, that she’s quite forgotten kindness like this. “Thank you. Although for future reference, I’ve had just about enough alone time, thanks.”
“Point taken,” he says and then adds tentatively, “so you don’t mind us being here then?”
“Mind? Are you kidding?” She whips around to stare at him so quickly that her hair flicks into her eyes. She picks the stray strands out of the way and says, “You two can never, ever leave, you do realise that? I was going mad by myself!”
He sighs, obviously relieved and bumps his shoulder against hers affectionately. “Good.”
Annie freezes at the contact, every muscle in her body going completely rigid. Mitchell notices and he too tenses, glancing around wildly at the stairs to see if George has appeared. “What’s wrong?” he asks urgently, concern crinkling a dozen creases around his eyes.
For a long moment she doesn’t answer him. “You touched me,” she says eventually, still stunned. Every inch of her shoulder feels likes it’s on fire. “I felt that. Oh my god, you touched me.”
“Oh,” he says quietly, understanding.
Without another word he lays his hand on his thigh, palm up.
Her hand trembles as she reaches forward and lays it on his, skin to skin.
Slowly, carefully, he wraps his fingers around her hand and ducks his head to catch her eye, smiling. Every nerve ending in her body seems to have migrated to her fingertips and where his hand touches her there is a tingle, then a spark of warmth that spreads slowly, like water washing over her entire body until she feels warm and loved and real. “Thank you,” she says, giving his fingers a grateful squeeze.
“Anytime,” he offers.
For a moment they just sit there quietly, their intertwined hands resting on Mitchell’s leg.
For the first time in far too long, Annie forgets to be sad.
Mitchell turns his attention to the television again but he’s only half watching it. She sees him glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and the quiet peace of the moment seems to be affecting him as much as her. She wonders how long it’s been since someone held his hand too.
After a few minutes he breaks the silence, shifting slightly to look at her again but not releasing her hand. “So since we’re house-mates now and since you know loads of things about me-”
“I know hardly anything about you,” she disagrees quickly, thinking of all the questions left unanswered.
“You know my name’s Mitchell, you know that I’m a vampire and I live with a werewolf, you know -” he casts around, searching for something else and his eyes fall on the television, “- I like late night television, I’m fairly sure you’ve been in my room at some point today so you know that I’m messy-”
“Yeah,” she agrees, “ you didn’t unpack so much as dump your clothes on the floor.”
He shrugs, then gives her hand a squeeze and ducks his head to catch her eye. “And you also know I have a soft spot for pretty girls.”
She blushes at his words.
“See and all I know is that you blush when someone compliments you,” he continues, “and that you’re lonely.” The way his eyes fall into shadow tells her that he knows the feeling as well, if not better than her. “I don’t even know your name,” he points out.
She laughs a little at that, because he’s quite right. Here she is holding his hand in the middle of the night and she hasn’t even introduced herself. “I’m Annie,” she says finally. “Sorry, apparently not talking to anyone for months sort of makes you forget your manners.”
“Annie,” he repeats, smiling at her. “I like that.” She blushes again, which seems to please him.
“What else do you want to know?” she asks tentatively, “I should warn you, I’m not very interesting.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he tells her quickly, frowning as though he doesn’t like the way she just put herself down. “Tell me anything you like.”
And so she does. She tells him about her childhood and Owen and how she hates it when people fold down the pages of books instead of using a bookmark. She tells him that she had big plans for this house and that the worst thing in the world was wandering through it at her own funeral.
In turn, he tells her about his past, then about meeting George and working at the hospital. He seems embarrassed when he explains how they’re trying a little experiment in being human, renting this house and joining the world but she shakes her head and tells him it’s brilliant what they’re doing, just brilliant.
He fills her in on Neighbours and she tells him all the quirks and problems of the house, right down to the creaky floorboard in his bedroom. He admits that he didn’t like The Da Vinci Code and he never got what all the fuss was about. She pretends to be shocked and then laughs and says thank god because neither did she. When she says that George going all high pitched when he’s worried is the funniest thing she’s ever heard, he tells her that sometimes he says something on purpose just to make him do it.
When he finally goes to bed at around three, she’s not sorry there’s just him and George in her entire world now.
It’s been less than a day but he knows how to make her laugh and how to make her smile and when to just shut up and let her hold his hand. And that’s more than she ever dared hope for again.
~
In the morning he’s the first down, like he promised. He smiles when he sees her, then stops in his tracks and looks warily around the room.
“Did you ... unpack stuff? And tidy up?” he asks, incredulous.
“A bit,” she admits sheepishly. “Ok a lot,” she amends when he raises his eyes and gestures around the room.
“Didn’t you sleep?”
“Don’t know that I can,” she tells him honestly, “beside I was far too wired to sleep. I made you breakfast as well ... don’t get used to it mind you,” she warns, wagging a finger at him. “I just wanted to do something for you, to say ... well to say thanks I suppose. For yesterday.”
He looks at her for a long moment, like she’s something worth looking at. She smiles, still not used to meeting someone’s gaze and seeing anything but blank indifference there.
And so George finds them at the kitchen table, Mitchell eating toast and drinking coffee, while Annie warms her hands on a mug, unable to drink.
“Morning,” Mitchell says to him cheerily, with a sideways smile for Annie. “George, this is Annie, Annie, George.”
George blinks down at her, entirely confused.
“She’s a ghost. We’ll be living here with her.”
“What?”
Like Mitchell promised last night, George’s voice does the squeaky thing she loves so much and Annie can’t help but laugh. Mitchell laughs alongside her, before pulling up a chair for George and promising to fill him in.
Annie tunes out their conversation, turning her attention to the blue sky outside the kitchen window and thinking that if she was alive, she’d probably be bugging Owen to go somewhere nice for the day. Mitchell elbows her, bringing her attention back to them and for once she is perfectly happy to leave her daydreams.
~
Enjoy the finale everyone :)