Claddagh Pub, Baltimore, Saturday Evening-ish

[chosehumanity]

"...So it wasn't until six months ago that I stopped calling my ex every time I got drunk," Becka shared, grinning wildly. It was their first real date, and by the looks of it she was internally congratulating herself on managing one - even if that meant the rest of her brain had slipped out of her pocket and made her tell really horrible stories.

So Mitchell winced for her. "Ooooh," he said, squinting his eyes shut theatratically.

"...Oh, god," Becka exclaimed, clasping her hands over her mouth. "I... probably shouldn't have said that."

Mitchell chuckled, shaking his head. So far, the night had been excellent for finally getting his mind off things - and finally getting him back on track. "Oh, no, no," he said, "It's sweet. It's... tenacious." He held up his hands placatingly. The grin wasn't departing his face any time soon.

Becka just snorted. "Sweet?" she said, "Me with vomit in my hair, going Daviiid," she said, making sure to pitch that last part right. She looked absolutely adorable-- edible, even. A shake tore its way through Mitchell's hand as that thought wired itself straight into his senses - thunk, thunk - and he snagged his beer to mask it.

"Oh, I meant to ask you," she continued, "How's the quitting smoking going?" So she had caught it after all.

Oh well.

Thunkthunk.

"Not great," he said, casually, setting his beer glass back down. His shoulder managed all of a quarter of a shrug, and his smile dimmed. "But I'm thinking--" Thunk thunk, thunkthunk, "--once a smoker, always a smoker." His shoulder came back down. "Where's the point in fighting it?"

thunkthunk thunkthunk thunkthunk thunkthunk thunkthunk.

She took a sip of her own drink. "So," she hazarded, switching up her smile a few notches, "Would you like to come back to my place? My roommate's out to see her parents, so..." She fidgeted with her fingers.

thunkthunk thunkthunk thunkthunk thunkthunk thunkthunk thunkthunk thunkth--.

"...Um, is that a friend of yours?"

	"Well, lookie here," said the brunette that paced determinedly into the bar. "Mind if I join you?" Without waiting for a reaction, she pulled up a chair. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" she asked Mitchell, raising her eyebrows. "...Oh, I should explain. Me and Mitchell dated. Once, really..." She paused, and gave Becka a smile. "It was... sort of a date." Her fingers threaded together as she leaned over on the table. "So, where are we up to? With me, he got to this whole thing about the ancient machinery of the world..."
	Oh, christ. This was just perfect. Mitchell turned his head away in embarrassment. "Please don't do this," he muttered, half under his breath.
	"Mmm." Lauren finished off half of Mitchell's drink, and set it back down. "At least he brought you out," she said, conspiratorally, "We had to make do with a bottle of wine from the supermarket and a packet of Doritos at my place." She grinned. "It was a real scream of a time, though--"
	Mitchell got up abruptly, curling his hand around Lauren's arm and yanking her out of her chair. "Get up."
	"No," Lauren said, her eyes still set straight on Becka, "I want to see if I can make her work it out!" She didn't stop looking even as Mitchell manhandled her towards the exit. "You know, you seem nice!" she called over her shoulder, "Maybe afterwards we can hang out sometime!"
	Mitchell shoved her out the door of the pub and into the alleyway behind it without another word. He was livid. At who or what, he wasn't quite sure, but the anger was there, inflaming his system.
	"So I, uh..." Lauren skipped once, in place, in an attempt to steady herself, "I met your furry friend." She stuck out her tongue. "Ew. I was actually going to feed from him, can you imagine?" She pulled a face. "I'd probably have to get jabs, or something..."
	"What do you want?" he snapped, before she could babble on any further. "Did Herrick send you?!" If so, he had to have a long, hard talk with the guy.
	"This isn't just about him," Lauren struck back, harshly.
	"Then what do you want?"
	"You left me!" All of the swagger was gone from Lauren's posture in an instant. She practically flew at him. "You brought me into this, and then you left me! I woke up surrounded by strangers. It should have been you there." She took a deep breath that sounded a bit like crying. "Ever since then, they've just passed me around, it's like I'm this orphan." With a violent shake of her head, she turned again, pacing back towards the wall she'd leaned against earlier.
	And like that, the anger left him, leaving only desperation in its wake. "I'm sorry," Mitchell rushed out. An answer. A solution. They needed something-- "Come away with me," he offered, without really thinking about it. "There's places where we can go, where we can be safe from them."
	"...They're not some dopey abusive boyfriend," Lauren said, staring at him. Close again, close enough to feel the breath neither of them needed. "There isn't anywhere safe from them."
	"They stay away from the smaller towns," Mitchell urged. This was starting to look like a better idea by the second. "Anywhere that's exposed!"
	"No, wait," Lauren said, and pulled herself out of his personal space. "Let me get this straight. You actually think I want saving." Her laughter rang through the alley.
	No, no, come on-- "No, listen, we can save each other," he started. "This is what I'm trying to--" He rubbed his face. "We can save each other, okay?"
	She pushed away from the wall. "You just don't get it, do you? I want to kill," she said, her head shaking, "Want to feel their blood dripping down my chin-- I want to see their faces when they realise--" Not-breathing Mitchell's air, again, but this time he had no idea where to look. "I wanna-- I wanna kill my parents," she whispered, frantically, "My lovers. I want them to know. Herrick's talking about offering this first?" Her eyes were wild. "Christ, let's just take it, take their world, tear the-- tear their children to shreds." Less than an inch away from Mitchell's lips. She was breathing hard.
	And suddenly, there was nothing but air there. "Thank you," Mitchell said, and turned for the door. The strains of the music pounded through it hard -- are we human, or are we dancer -- and he pulled the hair out of his face as he entered the pub.
	... Wait. This was not the plan. "You can't do this, Mitchell!" Lauren called after him. "You can't choose them over us, you'll lose everything!" It barely got her a glimmer of his attention. And then he was out of sight. "Whatever it takes!" she bellowed, "We will drag you back!"

As soon as he got back to his table, Mitchell yanked his coat off of the chair he'd been sitting in. He started to pull his arms through it. Stupid. He'd almost-- god, he'd almost fallen straight off the wagon again.

"...You all right?" Becka asked him, her face nonplussed. Of course she was confused. She was trying to play it off as nothing big, though-- "What was that all about, huh?"

He sighed. Sat down. Just to explain it. "Listen," he said, "I'm going to head home. I just... think it's for the best."

You could see the oh written cleanly across Becka's features. "Was it... that thing I said about my ex?" she tried, carefully. "Because that's not me anymore."

With a rueful shake of his head, Mitchell answered, "No, honest, this is about me, not you." Somewhere, Max would probably smack him for that comment, but it was God's own truth and he wouldn't know how else to phrase it.

"...I think that's the first time I've ever heard that one before a fuck," Becka muttered, toying with her own fingers over her wine glass. "Must be a record, even for me."

The only thing that was left now was to get her safely back home. So Mitchell sighed, and said, "I'm sorry," for what felt like the umpteenth time that night. "Can I walk you to the taxi rank--?"

She stood up rather quickly at that. "Oh, no," she said, "There's no need, trust me."

"Please," he said, "I just want to make sure you're safe."

That one also didn't go over very well; she was up on her feet now. "Oh, whatever," she snapped, "I need to go to the toilet." She stomped off in that general direction, leaving Mitchell to his thoughts, and the slight squeezing worry in his gut.

[[ NFB, NFI, ooc-okay! Taken and slightly tweaked from Being Human episode 1x01. mmm, vampires. concurrent with/shortly after this ]]