Title: The Real Hassle
Disclaimer: Being Human belongs to the BBC.
Author's Note: Someone online said that they loved the reaction between George and Mitchell when they found out The Real Hustle had been moved, and that they wondered how Tom and Hal would react. This is the idea that popped into my head then.


"It's late," Hal complained, tapping his fingers rhythmically as he tried to wait patiently for the Antiques Roadshow to come on. "Why are they running late?"

"Ah, mate, it were on yesterday," Tom said as he glanced through the TV listings in the magazine.

Hal stopped glowering at the TV screen long enough to raise his eyebrows at Tom. "What?!" he asked in shocked disbelief.

"Yeah, we missed it."

"Missed it? Missed it? How could we miss it?"

"Well they've only gone an' changed the times an', well, Ah didn' know, so––"

"It's part of my rota!"

"Aw Christ, no this again," groaned Alex at the bar, not that anyone was listening to her.

"Seven o'clock on Sunday," Hal continued, "we watch the Antiques Roadshow on BBC 2. Of course, sometimes it's just me who watches it, if you've decided you've got better things to do," he said snidely.

"Hal, it were a full moon last week - I couldn' help it! Or did ya want me to transform here an' trash the house?"

"No consideration for those of us with delicate conditions," Hal continued, not hearing him. "It was only three weeks ago you finally released me from that infernal chair - and not before time, I might add - and you don't seem to realise just how dangerous––"

"Hal," Tom cut him off mid-rant, "if you were gonna slaughter Barry, wouldn' yeh have done it by now?"

"Well, I— How— I mean—" Hal spluttered, caught off-guard by the question.

"And it's no' like Ah've been ignorin' ya - Ah've had Alex keep an eye on ya," Tom smiled smugly.

"She's been watching me? You've had that spook watching me? I'm not a baby you know – I don't need a babysitter."

"Couldae fooled me… And can you no call me a 'spook'?"

"Well I could always call you an apparition," Hal threatened darkly. "That makes it sound like you're only a hallucination, doesn't it? Like you're not really real, but rather a mere figment of my very cruel imagination. Maybe then you'll just disappear, like smoke on the breeze."

Alex faded slightly, and an evil glint shone in Hal's eye as he noticed that he could see through her. He smiled, and Tom walked over to Alex and gripped her hand tightly.

"Yer not gonna disappear," he told her resolutely. "And you," he turned to Hal, "are being rude. Maybe we need to stick you in the chair again, eh? Maybe yer detox isn' quite done yet?"

Hal's shoulders slumped slightly. "I'm sorry, Alex. I don't know what came over me. It's just my rota, you see, is so very important to my… sobriety," he said, as if the word tasted unpleasant. "It helps me manage my condition."

"Well we'll make sure yeh don' miss it next week, eh?" Tom reassured him.

"But what am I going to do now?" Hal protested. "Seven o'clock on––"

"…on Sunday, Antiques Roadshow on BBC 2 – we get it!" Alex all but shouted at him. "You could just watch it online, you know?"

Both men stared at her.

"Have you no heard o' catch-up TV?"

Tom continued to stare at her, while Hal shook his head slowly.

"Oh for fu—" She took a deep, unnecessary breath to calm herself slightly. "Next door's gone out to shag his no-so-secret bit on the side while his wife's at work - I'll pop over and borrow his laptop. You won't be able to sit on the couch, though – their wifi signal doesn't reach that far."

"Wifi?" Hal repeated in confusion.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Never mind. Be right back."

"Alex, no, wait – you can't just––"

But Alex had disappeared. A second later she reappeared, a laptop clasped to her chest and the charger dangling round her ankles.

"It wouldnae be the firs' time. What do you two think I do at night – lie in bed and count sheep until dawn?" She opened up the laptop and grinned gleefully at them. "And you should see his browsing history!"