A Pink Corner House, Bristol, Wednesday
Apr. 28th, 2010 04:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chosehumanityMitchell looked up at the sound of the doorbell ringing. They'd ordered a pizza as a sort of late lunch, which had to be exactly who was at the door: pizza guy. He was just about to get up from his seat when Annie rushed past him and hurled herself at the door.
She yanked it open.
"Hello!" she chirped. Loudly.
The pizza delivery guy on the other end blinked at her. "Twelve inch Mess of Meats...?" he asked, but by the time the words were fully out of his mouth, Mitchell had already scooped up the pizza and handed him some money.
He ignored the increasingly cheerful-yet-confused conversation going on at the door so he could hurl the pizza at the table, flop down next to George on the sofa, and snag a slice. And shove one of the many cups of tea present out of his way - he'd found out the hard way that tea-soaked pizza wasn't very nice.
Annie didn't join them until a few minutes later.
"He could see me!" she said happily. Her smile grew large enough to light up every square inch of the room.
Mitchell grinned back at her. "He could so see you," he said.
"It’s happening all the time now. Not just people like you, or, or the students, but normal people. Yesterday I was putting out the recycling and this guy drove past in a van and shouted 'Slag!'"
She squealed with mirth.
Mitchell's grin went up a notch, and he nodded his head. What? That was progress. It was good. It was brilliant, actually.
"So who wants tea?" Annie rode that ray of sunshine hard.
George raised his hand. Then he lowered it. Mitchell gave him a funny look as he devoured the next slice of pizza like nobody's business. Carbohydrates, man. They were the best blood-substitute in the world.
"You keep making tea!"
Sudden and inexplicable explosion, thy name be George.
"Every surface is covered with mugs of tea and coffee! I go to make myself some tea and I can't! There's no mugs, there's no tea! It’s all been made! And you can't even drink it! You can't drink it but you keep making it!" He slammed down an empty tea cup so he could properly flail out, "It's driving me INSANE!"
Oh christ. It was going to be one of those nights.
Annie shrugged both of her shoulders, and turned around primly. "I like my routine," she said, "It makes me feel normal."
Next to him, George boggled visibly. "You're a ghost!" he screeched.
"Yeah," Annie said, giving him the ol' rolleyes, "All right. Are you finished with these?"
Mitchell would have sighed, and loudly at that, but he had a mouth full of pizza and he wasn't about to let them ruin it. In fact, he would take this opportunity to take another slice of pizza. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?"
A bit of spazzing and the act of George veering off the couch answered that question.
"You off, then?" Annie asked, wandering towards the kitchen.
Mitchell peered after her. "Yeah, he's got work, and then it's his time of the month," he called after her. A second later, she was - predictably - ducking back out of the kitchen to comment.
"Tell you what, I don’t miss all that. I’d have to sit on the sofa with a hot water bottle and Pride and Prejudice. If anyone said anything, I’d bite their head off!"
There was a long second as every single person in the room gave that one a second thought.
"...Though I guess in your case that’s actually a possibility," Annie rattled off, committing to some complex athletics to get her foot that far up her mouth.
"Right," George said, shooting her a look - Mitchell couldn't help but snigger pointlessly - "I'm off."
"Yeah," Annie said, and stepped out of the way. "Okay."
---
Three hours later, he was on his second... no, third pizza and enjoying it. There was some genuinely horrible show on the television, but he couldn't be arsed to change it. Pathetic little bastards.
"How can you still be hungry?" Annie's look was patently dubious. "You've eaten like half the stuff in the fridge already."
Somewhere in the background, there was the jostling of keys.
"Carbohydrates," Mitchell said, sagely. "They've become my anti-drug. Besides, I'm wiry. Every woman's nightmare--"
The door flung open so hard it actually hit the wall. It jarred Mitchell so badly his salami wound up on the floor and he nearly fell off the couch. "Woah!" he called, "Woah, George!"
"The isolation room I transform in, it’s full of people!" George panted. "We need to get somewhere, I’ve got about 40 minutes before I change!"
Mitchell shoved his pizza box aside, which was probably the best thing he could do if he didn't want marinara stains all over one of his favorite jackets. "Why don't you change in the house?" he suggested. "It's safe here."
He'd never known George could give people looks that were that disturbed. "I can't change in the house!" he squeaked, "It's-- It's seperate. Come on! We need to go down to the woods!"
Mitchell got up, snagged his keys, and ran for the door.
---
In theory, it was a good idea. The woods were out of the city, the woods were full of wildlife that could distract the wolf, and they wouldn't be too suspicious. And it was a wide territory with plenty of room for George to go roaming in, even if he'd probably wind up killing another deer.
In practice, the woods were full of tourists, campers, and at least one nighttime gay cruising spot. As well as many other creepers that were in every possible and frightening way, human.
George found this out the hard way.
Mitchell found it out a few minutes later, when the passenger side door was pulled open with remarkable force and George hurtled himself at the passenger spot.
"No, you're right," he said, sounding remarkably calm for a man who was hyperventilating, "Let's go back to the house."
What? Mitchell tilted his head slowly towards George, parsing the information.
"It's safer there."
Mitchell stared at him dumbly.
"So can we go?" George hissed, "Like, now?!?!"
Oh. Right!
He started the car again.
[[ and tbc! Real suspense. Unless you've seen Being Human episode 1x01, from which this was ripped and adapted for Her Pleasure. NFB, NFI, OOC-okay! ]]
She yanked it open.
"Hello!" she chirped. Loudly.
The pizza delivery guy on the other end blinked at her. "Twelve inch Mess of Meats...?" he asked, but by the time the words were fully out of his mouth, Mitchell had already scooped up the pizza and handed him some money.
He ignored the increasingly cheerful-yet-confused conversation going on at the door so he could hurl the pizza at the table, flop down next to George on the sofa, and snag a slice. And shove one of the many cups of tea present out of his way - he'd found out the hard way that tea-soaked pizza wasn't very nice.
Annie didn't join them until a few minutes later.
"He could see me!" she said happily. Her smile grew large enough to light up every square inch of the room.
Mitchell grinned back at her. "He could so see you," he said.
"It’s happening all the time now. Not just people like you, or, or the students, but normal people. Yesterday I was putting out the recycling and this guy drove past in a van and shouted 'Slag!'"
She squealed with mirth.
Mitchell's grin went up a notch, and he nodded his head. What? That was progress. It was good. It was brilliant, actually.
"So who wants tea?" Annie rode that ray of sunshine hard.
George raised his hand. Then he lowered it. Mitchell gave him a funny look as he devoured the next slice of pizza like nobody's business. Carbohydrates, man. They were the best blood-substitute in the world.
"You keep making tea!"
Sudden and inexplicable explosion, thy name be George.
"Every surface is covered with mugs of tea and coffee! I go to make myself some tea and I can't! There's no mugs, there's no tea! It’s all been made! And you can't even drink it! You can't drink it but you keep making it!" He slammed down an empty tea cup so he could properly flail out, "It's driving me INSANE!"
Oh christ. It was going to be one of those nights.
Annie shrugged both of her shoulders, and turned around primly. "I like my routine," she said, "It makes me feel normal."
Next to him, George boggled visibly. "You're a ghost!" he screeched.
"Yeah," Annie said, giving him the ol' rolleyes, "All right. Are you finished with these?"
Mitchell would have sighed, and loudly at that, but he had a mouth full of pizza and he wasn't about to let them ruin it. In fact, he would take this opportunity to take another slice of pizza. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?"
A bit of spazzing and the act of George veering off the couch answered that question.
"You off, then?" Annie asked, wandering towards the kitchen.
Mitchell peered after her. "Yeah, he's got work, and then it's his time of the month," he called after her. A second later, she was - predictably - ducking back out of the kitchen to comment.
"Tell you what, I don’t miss all that. I’d have to sit on the sofa with a hot water bottle and Pride and Prejudice. If anyone said anything, I’d bite their head off!"
There was a long second as every single person in the room gave that one a second thought.
"...Though I guess in your case that’s actually a possibility," Annie rattled off, committing to some complex athletics to get her foot that far up her mouth.
"Right," George said, shooting her a look - Mitchell couldn't help but snigger pointlessly - "I'm off."
"Yeah," Annie said, and stepped out of the way. "Okay."
---
Three hours later, he was on his second... no, third pizza and enjoying it. There was some genuinely horrible show on the television, but he couldn't be arsed to change it. Pathetic little bastards.
"How can you still be hungry?" Annie's look was patently dubious. "You've eaten like half the stuff in the fridge already."
Somewhere in the background, there was the jostling of keys.
"Carbohydrates," Mitchell said, sagely. "They've become my anti-drug. Besides, I'm wiry. Every woman's nightmare--"
The door flung open so hard it actually hit the wall. It jarred Mitchell so badly his salami wound up on the floor and he nearly fell off the couch. "Woah!" he called, "Woah, George!"
"The isolation room I transform in, it’s full of people!" George panted. "We need to get somewhere, I’ve got about 40 minutes before I change!"
Mitchell shoved his pizza box aside, which was probably the best thing he could do if he didn't want marinara stains all over one of his favorite jackets. "Why don't you change in the house?" he suggested. "It's safe here."
He'd never known George could give people looks that were that disturbed. "I can't change in the house!" he squeaked, "It's-- It's seperate. Come on! We need to go down to the woods!"
Mitchell got up, snagged his keys, and ran for the door.
---
In theory, it was a good idea. The woods were out of the city, the woods were full of wildlife that could distract the wolf, and they wouldn't be too suspicious. And it was a wide territory with plenty of room for George to go roaming in, even if he'd probably wind up killing another deer.
In practice, the woods were full of tourists, campers, and at least one nighttime gay cruising spot. As well as many other creepers that were in every possible and frightening way, human.
George found this out the hard way.
Mitchell found it out a few minutes later, when the passenger side door was pulled open with remarkable force and George hurtled himself at the passenger spot.
"No, you're right," he said, sounding remarkably calm for a man who was hyperventilating, "Let's go back to the house."
What? Mitchell tilted his head slowly towards George, parsing the information.
"It's safer there."
Mitchell stared at him dumbly.
"So can we go?" George hissed, "Like, now?!?!"
Oh. Right!
He started the car again.
[[ and tbc! Real suspense. Unless you've seen Being Human episode 1x01, from which this was ripped and adapted for Her Pleasure. NFB, NFI, OOC-okay! ]]
